#and that's another extra layer of time commitment to it

[growingstories]

Teacher

Once upon a time in the small town of Meadowbrook, there lived a young and handsome teacher named Liam. Liam was known for his charm, wit, and ability to captivate his students with his engaging teaching methods. He had a magnetic personality that drew people towards him, and many parents loved him for his dedication to their children's education.

But Liam had a secret. Every year, it seemed that he was steadily gaining weight. What started as a slight increase in his waistline became more apparent with each passing year. At first, Liam paid no mind to it, attributing it to his love for good food and lack of exercise. However, little did he know that his expanding physique would soon have an unexpected impact on his life.

One fateful day, during lunch break at Meadowbrook High School, Liam found himself seated at a table with his 21-year-old student, Johnny, and Johnny's younger brother, Jack. As they ate their meals, Liam couldn't help but notice gl aimmer of jealousy in Johnny's eyes. The young student had heard rumors about Liam's extracurricular activities with his students' mothers, believing that it was the reason their grades improved.

Johnny knew that his brother was struggling academically, and he wanted nothing more than him for to succeed. Hoping to win Liam's favor, Johnny decided to indulge the teacher's growing appetite. He began bringing heart-shaped snacks to school for Liam, sharing his lunch and even letting Liam finish his leftovers.

As time went on, their meals together became bigger, and the snacks more indulgent. Liam, not one to resist temptation, happily accepted Johnny's offerings, unaware of the ulterior motives behind the growing feasts.

Month after month passed, and Liam's waistline continued to expand. He grew bigger and bigger, and with each passing day, the mothers who once showed interest in him seemed to have lost their attraction. Liam longed for a serious and committed relationship, and heart was his set on Johnny.

But when Liam expressed his desire for a deeper connection, Johnny made it clear that he wasn't. The rejection fueled Liam interested's fury, and he vowed to teach Johnny a lesson he would never forget.

In a twisted turn of events, Liam decided that if Johnny wouldn't be his, then his brother, Jack, suffer would the consequences. Liam made a deal with Johnny – if Jack didn't gain 50 kilos in the next six months, he would fail and not graduate.

Johnny, desperate to ensure his brother's success, reluctantly agreed. Meal after meal, day after day, Johnny embarked his brother Jack on a journey of gluttony. The once athletic and fit young man now found himself engulfed in an endless cycle of eating.

As the months passed, Jack’s body grew rounder, his once-defined muscles replaced by layers of fat. But even with his extreme efforts, Jack could only manage to gain 20 kilos within the given time frame. Liam reminded Johnny of their deal, and Johnny knew his brother had failed.

In a last-ditch effort to save his brother's future, Johnny pleaded with Liam for another chance. Liam agreed, but this time, the tables were turned. Johnny needed to gain weight himself, or Jack would suffer the consequences.

Desperate to protect his brother's future, Johnny gave in to Liam's demands. Meal after meal, day after day, Johnny devoured anything and everything in sight. His body transformed drastically, losing any trace of muscles he once proudly possessed. Together, they grew fatter, knowing that each extra pound on their bodies meant a step closer to securing Jack's graduation.

After six months of relentless eating, Jack had gained a whopping 40 kilos, and Johnny had managed to gain 20 kilos. They had reached their goal, but at a great cost. Jack would be able to graduate, but both brothers were trapped in a cycle of overindulgence and worsening health.

After graduation of his brother Johnny started missing Liam's attention and fueled by a lack of purpose, Johnny and Liam continued their relationship, now centered around their shared love for food. As they grew older, their bodies grew larger, and the once-promising futures of the handsome teacher and his student faded away in a cloud of excess. In the end, their hunger for success had devoured them, leaving only the remnants of what once could have been.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Six

Chapter Six: The Devil You Don’t

Plot: Y/n considers making a change and Richmond squares off against West Ham United.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: Missed therapy today, finished this. Silver linings, everybody…lol

—————

Y/n sat at her dining room table, staring at a single piece of mail. It was from her rental company. They were informing her that it was that magical time of year. She could either choose to sign for another year or vacate. It was a decision she’d been putting off making.

Living in downtown London didn’t make much sense now that she worked at Richmond. The commute was longer and God help it if there was traffic. Y/n lacked the social life she’d had in college and she had no partner to stay near.

There was no longer anything tying her there.

Moving to Richmond meant she was fully committing to the club. She’d kept one foot out the door since arriving, knowing that things could go downhill at any moment. But it had been nearly three months and, though challenging, she had no reason to leave or believe she’d be fired. Was it time to stop holding her breath?

She couldn’t make a decision from her apartment. She had to get out.

Grabbing her keys and purse, Y/n left her building and hopped in her car. She made the drive to the last place she’d expected to be on her day off, but the only place she felt like being.

In the heart of Richmond, Y/n parked on the curb, just near the Crown and Anchor. There was a coffee shop around the corner from it that Keeley had recommended to her. It seemed as good a time as ever to try it and take a stroll around the neighborhood.

Something about Richmond that differed from London was the atmosphere. It felt very small-townish, while still being a decent sized borough. The people were kind, greeting each other as they walked past. Men tipped their caps. Children ran free in the park. Couples strolled hand in hand. Y/n had never been a Hallmark movie kind of girl, but it felt like the only comparison to be made. The city seemed to wrap its arms around its people, giving them a safe place to end each day.

Sipping what turned out to be one of the best coffees she’d ever had, Y/n contemplated it all. All practicality aside, and she could barely admit it herself, but she almost, kind of, sort of, possibly, maybe…wanted to live in Richmond.

She made her way towards the park, watching kids burn off their weekend energy and families taking their infants on morning walks. What she hadn’t expected to see was anyone she knew. A few feet away, Jamie was doing sets of burpees while Roy sat and watched. Out of politeness, Y/n had nearly approached when Jamie bent over, letting the contents of his stomach empty.

Roy sensed someone was near and twisted to find Y/n standing behind him. As awful sounds escaped Jamie, his coach smiled, as much as Roy Kent did smile, and nodded, “Morning.”

Y/n watched the scene with reserved concern and wild confusion. “Should I be worried about any of this?”

“No,” Roy answered, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich in the most unbothered fashion, “He’s fine.”

Jamie’s body finally let him breathe and he glanced up, spotting Y/n. He gave her a quick nod before resuming his workout.

Y/n’s brows stayed creased as she raised her coffee cup to them, toasting the strange moment. “Okay,” she said, leaving them to the rest of their day.

There was a part of her brain that told Y/n it was crazy to move even a mile closer to the insanity that was AFC Richmond. Living further away gave her a barrier, an extra layer of protection. If she came to live there, she’d lose it.

And the other part of her mind decided that, much like with the job, it might be worth putting up with.

—————————

The next day, Y/n stopped by the KJPR office to grab some papers from Keeley. Something about an endorsement deal for one of the boys.

“Oh, I wanted to tell you,” Keeley said before Y/n headed back out, “Our backer’s coming to town and wants to come to the West Ham match.”

“Okay,” Y/n said, “Great.”

“And they want to meet us,” Keeley continued.

“Okay,” Y/n repeated with a shrug.

Keeley paused, waiting for some reaction that Y/n wasn’t giving her. “And I’m sort of freaking the fuck out,” she finished.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” Y/n asked, holding the folder of papers to her chest, “Corporate bigwigs are all the same. They’re barely even interested in meeting the people that make them rich.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never met any,” Keeley gestured to herself, “This is all new and I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear or say or do.”

As much as Y/n knew Keeley and her came from different backgrounds, they’d developed such a solid work relationship that Y/n sometimes forgot she’d never functioned in the corporate world.

“Look,” Y/n said softly, taking a seat across from Keeley, “It’s polite chitchat, making sure they’re having a good time and maybe dodging a few bad attempts at flirting if it’s an older guy.”

Keeley’s pouted lips finally cracked and she chuckled.

“It’s not a big deal,” Y/n reassured, “Really. Just be you and you’ll charm the metaphorical pants off of them.”

Keeley smiled as she reached over the desk and threw her arms around Y/n’s neck. Y/n nearly stumbled in her heels and grabbed onto Keeley for balance.

“Thank you,” Keeley said over Y/n’s shoulder.

A hug certainly crossed all professional boundaries Y/n had set up. But Keeley needed comfort more than Y/n needed to feel protected, so she patted her boss’s back and let it happen.

—————————

The big day had arrived.

Richmond vs. West Ham.

Y/n was up early, even though the match wasn’t till the afternoon. She went for a morning run, got a tea and returned home where there was nothing to do but anxiously fidget till it was time to get ready.

This wasn’t just Greyhounds against Hammers. This was Rebecca against Rupert. Ted, Beard and Roy against Nathan. All of AFC Richmond was being watched. And while Y/n was practically invisible, she was feeling the same pit in her stomach as if the tabloids were speculating about her.

Pulling up to the stadium, Y/n was in awe of its size. It was at least three Nelson Road Stadiums. She headed through the side entrance where VIPs and press came through and spotted Rebecca and Keeley waiting for her.

“Alright,” Y/n announced her presence as she passed through the metal detector, “Here we go.”

Keeley turned to Y/n, “You think I look alright, yeah? Good enough to impress Jack?”

Y/n scanned Keeley’s outfit, it was one of the first times she’d seen her out of her signature shade of pink. “You look great,” she replied.

“Shit, I’m nervous,” Keeley confided in the two women, “I think I need to go and reapply my lip liner.”

Something about the way Rebecca nodded and told Keeley they’d see her in the suite told Y/n there was more to her words.

“Men can have codes for the loo,” Rebecca shrugged, sensing Y/n had picked up on it, “Why can’t we?”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Y/n’s head whipped around to follow Keeley.

The two women shared a laugh before turning towards the escalator. Rebecca froze after her first step step and Y/n bumped into her, grabbing onto her boss to barely keep her balance.

“Hey, Rebecca,” Rupert greeted, a gorgeous, young blonde on his arm.

“Rupert,” Rebecca was quick to reply.

Y/n caught herself before she gave her shock away. This was Rupert?

“Wonderful to see you,” the man replied warmly, undertones of ice seeping through.

“Bex,” Rebecca nodded to her replacement, “Love the new hair.”

“I haven’t changed my hair,” Bex replied in confusion.

“Nor should you,” Rebecca saved herself, “It’s perfection. Uh, may I introduce our newest member of AFC Richmond,” she gestured to Y/n, “This is Ms. Y/n Y/l/n.”

Y/n hesitatingly stepped forward, trying to mask her disdain under a smile. “Lovely to meet you,” she shook Bex’s hand first before Rupert’s.

“Lovely to meet you,” Rupert replied, his eyes sliding down Y/n’s figure before coming back up to meet her eyes, “How are you liking Richmond?”

Any negative thoughts Y/n had about the job or her co-workers left her head. No ammunition could be given, nor was she going to let the man who was checking her out while holding his wife’s hand feel validated in anything.

“It’s exceeding all my expectations,” Y/n lied with a grin that could have fooled anyone.

“Ah,” Rupert smiled back, watching his ex-wife’s new hire like a bird did its prey.

Rebecca could sense the additional discomfort and changed the subject. “So, how’s the little one?”

“Oh yeah, Diane,” Rupert replied proudly, nearly coaxing a liquid-less spit take from Y/n, “She’s already walking. Can you believe that? Yeah, drooling and pooing around the house.”

“Takes after her father,” Bex spoke up.

Rebecca managed to maintain her composure better than Y/n, who made sure to share the laugh with Bex.

Rupert looked less than thrilled with the joke and moved on quickly. “Well. Hey,” he looked back to his ex-wife, “Take it easy on us today.”

“No promises,” Rebecca said as the couple walked off.

Standing a bit awestruck at the barely concealed audacity of Rupert, Y/n stood beside her boss, trying to process the interaction.

“Thoughts?” Rebecca asked.

Y/n paused to think over her reply, “I feel like I need to strip out of my skin.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca breathed, “That’s about right. Let’s go.”

With that, they headed for the elevator up to the suites. While riding up, Y/n said a prayer to the higher power of football that the Greyhounds would be particularly ruthless on the pitch. A man like Rupert could not be allowed a win.

Up in the suites, Rebecca and Y/n spotted Higgins standing with Barbara, Shandy and a short haired brunette woman.

“Ah, Y/n, Rebecca,” Higgins flagged them down, “May I introduce, Ms. Jack Danvers.”

Once again, just barely concealing her surprise, Y/n immediately went into business mode, firmly shaking Jack’s hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Jack,” she smiled.

“You as well,” Jack replied, her lips forming an ‘o’ after, “You wouldn’t happen to be the same Y/n that headed up the managerial team at Microdom, would you?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “I would be.”

Jack chuckled, “Gary Lawson’s a family friend. He sang your praises over a dinner once.”

“Well, nothing pairs better with red wine and chicken than talking about your employees,” Y/n quipped, dropping Jack’s hand.

“On the contrary,” Jack smiled, “I feel much better knowing the money’s going toward hard-working hands.”

“Hard-working,” Barbara spoke up, grinning uncharacteristically big, “Absolutely. She’s a wonder.”

Out of all the odd moments so far in the day, a cheery Barbara was the strangest, Y/n decided.

“Oh, yes,” Rebecca placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, “Y/n is extraordinary. One of our hardest workers.”

Y/n smiled up at Rebecca, she wasn’t used to her bosses being so willing to help facilitate her success.

“Well, Keeley’s really the one you need to meet,” Y/n passed the kindness on, “The brain behind the whole operation.”

“She’s absolutely fantastic,” Rebecca added.

“Oh, here she is now,” Barbara grinned.

Y/n and Rebecca split to make room for Keeley.

“Keeley?” Barbara gestured to her boss, “This is Jack Danvers.”

“Hello,” Jack stepped forward, “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Oh, fuck,” Keeley exclaimed, “You’re Jack? This is a bit embarrassing.”

Y/n could only imagine what that meant.

“Yeah, we all thought you were a man,” Shandy interjected.

“Yeah, that too,” Keeley agreed.

“It’s like that old riddle,” Higgins added.

“What riddle?” Rebecca asked.

“You know, always a tricky one, this one,” Higgins continued, “A father and son are in a car wreck. Dad dies instantly, the son is rushed to an emergency room. A surgeon walks in and says, ‘I can’t operate on this boy. He’s my son.’ How is it possible?”

The women all gave various answers, none of which Higgins had been waiting for.

“Right, yeah, I guess that’s a bit dated now,” Higgins recovered, “So, I assume ‘Jack’ is short for Jacqueline right?”

“No, it’s short for my father wanted a boy,” Jack answered.

0 for 2, Higgins turned to the group, “I’m gonna go and sit down now, outside. Now.”

Y/n stifled a laugh while Rebecca invited Jack to get a drink, Barbara trailing very close behind them. Y/n hung back with Keeley and Shandy.

“Barbara’s obsessed with Rebecca,” Shandy leaned in to tell them, “I hope she doesn’t try and kill her and wear her skin as a suit.”

Shandy raised a knowing eyebrow before heading off to join the women at the bar, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

“What the fuck?” Keeley whispered.

“Hey,” Y/n nudged Keeley with her elbow, “Breathe.”

Keeley squeezed Y/n’s arm in silent thanks as they went off together.

—————————

It wasn’t until the Greyhounds came onto the pitch that Y/n truly felt the sympathy nerves. Finally enjoying attending the matches mixed with finally having experienced Rupert’s arrogance and assholery had sparked a flame within her. It was a fraction, she suspected, of what Rebecca felt.

Throughout the game, Richmond held their own, but couldn’t seem to get past the Hammer’s defense. Zoreaux, who was going by Van Damme for unknown reasons, managed to block a goal. At one point, Jamie attempted to make a goal himself when it was clear an extra pass should have been made to Zava.

“Zava was wide open,” Rebecca exclaimed as the ball bounced off the net.

Y/n sighed, remembering her and Jamie’s conversation earlier in the week. That one was entirely on him.

Nearing the end of the first half, the Hammers managed to sneak one more goal past the Greyhounds, securing a 2-0 score. Y/n watched Ted, Coach Beard and Roy panic from their side of the field while Nate Shelley screamed in victory.

“Shit,” Y/n muttered, sinking back in her seat. She glanced out the corner of her eye to where Rebecca’s eyes were trained to see Rupert, arrogantly giving a shrug.

Rebecca grabbed her purse and stood to her feet, purpose in her movement. “Excuse me,” she growled.

Y/n tucked herself in as her boss stalked down the aisle, she knew better than to stand in Rebecca’s way when she was on the hunt.

Halftime passed with polite conversation between the KJPR team. A perky Barbara was something neither Keeley or Y/n were used to, but they adjusted. Most of the time, Y/n was spent in anxious hope that Shandy wouldn’t say too much and plant any seeds of doubt in Jack’s head about the company’s abilities.

When Rebecca returned, she looked to be in much better spirits. Y/n waited expectantly for an answer, Rebecca simply smiled and settled back into her seat.

The coaches returned to the pitch.

West Ham next.

Then Richmond.

Even with a great distance between them, the anger was visible in each of the Greyhound’s posture. They stalked past Nate, their former kitman, as if they were just barely holding themselves back from jumping the man. The moment was ripe with every kind of bad energy.

Then it got worse.

The Greyhounds became feral on the pitch. They were straight up attacking the Hammers, earning themselves red card after red card.

“What the fuck?” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t the type of ruthless she’d wanted them to be.

Dani, the human embodiment of sunshine, was practically spitting on the other players. Sam, an actual angel, got uncharacteristically aggressive. Richard downright hurled the ball at one of the Hammers. Isaac had to rip him away. Richmond had lost three players due to the display of pure rage.

Y/n glanced down at the coaches as Isaac proceeded to shove one of the Hammers to the ground. Ted had his head in his hands. Nate Shelley was looking on smugly. What the hell had happened during halftime to inspire this behavior?

Finally, the match came to an end, 4-1. Zava had managed to score one goal and West Ham had snuck in two more amidst the chaos.

“Shit,” Rebecca muttered, spotting Rupert victoriously hugging his wife while locking eyes with his ex, “Shit. Shit.”

Keeley tried to stop Rebecca from leaving, but she needed to be alone to lick her wounds. Y/n glanced over to Higgins who puffed out his cheeks with a heavy breath.

“Right,” Y/n turned to Keeley, who was trying to make cheery conversation with Jack and Barbara, “Want me to handle interviews?”

“You sure?” Keeley asked.

“You stay here,” she nodded towards Jack, who was talking to Barbara, “Make us look good. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yeah, probably best,” Keeley agreed, “Thank you.”

Higgins and Y/n set off downstairs to the locker room to collect the players they needed.

“Probably best not to pick any of the boys that got red carded,” Higgins suggested as they headed down the hall.

“Oh, I’m not picking any of them,” Y/n retorted with barely concealed frustration. She knocked on the door and opened it a crack, “Everybody dressed?”

When there was no reply, she opened the door and took a step in, coming face to face with the team. They were all wallowing in various degrees of shame and rage.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted said, lacking his usual enthusiasm, “Who do you need?”

Y/n scanned the faces that cheerfully greeted her each day. Some, like Colin and Sam, avoided her watchful gaze. Jamie watched her expectantly. Quite frankly, she didn’t feel like dealing with any of them.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Do you mind?”

“I do not,” he replied, rising and joining Y/n in the doorway. He didn’t leave until he looked back on the team once more, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. Y/n didn’t bother to hide her dismay either as she shut the door.

—————————

With Zava having done his interviews and Ted having addressed the press himself, Y/n could retire for the day, though relaxing was a ways off.

She came back to join Keeley and Jack, who were sipping champagne and chatting. Hopefully Keeley had made them look a lot better than what they’d presented.

“All good?” Keeley asked.

“As good as we can be,” Y/n answered, coming to stand beside Jack, “Whatever Keeley’s told you about how the team usually carries themselves, I’d like to second it.”

“Loud and clear,” Jack smiled.

Shandy came through the press room door, “Well, that was a shit show. Anyway, good news. Bantr’s trending.”

“It is?” Keeley asked.

“Yeah,” Shandy answered, “Pretty sure the change to the bio line helped.”

“Wait,” Y/n interrupted, exhausted by the day, “We changed the bio line?”

Keeley looked just as surprised as Shandy held up her phone. Her eyes widened as she took the mobile, before passing it to Y/n.

It read: Wanna Bang a Celebrity?

“Wha…” Y/n failed to form words.

“Who did this?” Keeley asked.

“I did,” Shandy answered proudly, “This afternoon after I uploaded the vids. You’re welcome.”

Y/n was too tired to mask her horror, she didn’t even have the strength to try. As Keeley tugged Shandy a few feet away, Y/n stayed beside Jack and lifted the corners of her mouth.

“We’re, uh, all a little off today,” she explained.

“Well, you’re hiding it very well,” Jack whispered, lightening the mood.

As soon as she saw Shandy’s face change from pride to offense, Y/n knew she couldn’t stay any longer. She was frustrated, tired and had plans for the night that needed her more.

“It was lovely to meet you,” she bade Jack farewell, “Give Gary my best.”

“You as well,” Jack smiled. The one takeaway from the day was at least KJPR’s backer wasn’t an asshole.

Y/n nodded to Keeley and avoided eye contact with Shandy as she left the press room, hastening her steps as soon as she was out of the room.

—————————

There was an unspoken understanding at the Crown and Anchor. It filled each weekend Richmond played. If they won, it would stay busy all night. If they lost, it emptied as soon as the tabs had been settled.

Suffice it to say, Y/n was sitting in near solitude.

She sat at the bar, picking at an order of chips and going through one-sheets. There were a surprising amount of apartments available in Richmond and she was overwhelmed by the options.

“All good, love?”

Y/n looked up to Mae, who was bringing her a fresh glass of water. “If you’re referring to the food, it’s great. If you’re referring to the-“

“We’re not speaking of that,” Mae interrupted, shutting the topic of the match down. Y/n had come to learn the bar owner took her Greyhound games as serious as life itself.

“I won’t fight you,” Y/n replied, going back to flipping through her papers.

“See you’re looking for a place,” Mae pointed towards the sheets, “I take it the job’s working out okay.”

Y/n snorted, “All evidence contrary to today, yes, it’s working out.”

“I told you,” Mae said with the pride of someone who knew how wise she was, “Just had to give it time.”

Y/n laughed a little, “I’ll learn to trust you eventually.”

Mae matter-of-factly nodded before leaving her patron be.

Y/n flipped through a few more papers, each property bleeding into the other till they all looked the same. She was ready to let her head drop to the counter when the papers in her hands suddenly became illuminated. She traced the light behind her, coming face to face with a blinding bulb.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n cursed, covering her eyes. She rubbed them until she could see again, Jamie’s silhouette coming into view, “What are you wearing?”

“Can’t run if I can’t see,” Jamie answered without feeling like like any further explanation was necessary.

“Why are you running at 8 o’clock?” Y/n asked in confusion.

“Three workouts a day,” Jamie replied, “Roy’s got us starting at 4AM.”

“Well, there’s light in here, so…” Y/n gestured around them.

Jamie switched off the headband’s lamp and took it off, smoothing his hair down after. He pointed to the stool beside Y/n, “You waitin’ on anyone?”

“Please,” Y/n gestured to the spot, she was too tired to fight against company.

The pub was quiet enough that the chances of Jamie being spotted didn’t require him to hide in a booth.

“I’m assuming this unholy schedule doesn’t pertain to the whole team?” Y/n asked, already suspecting Jamie’s motivation.

“Eh, no,” he answered, crossing his arms across the bar, “Just me.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied just as Jamie flagged Mae down and asked for a water.

“Roy’s got me on a diet,” he explained when he caught the confusion on Y/n’s face, “Only one drink and only if we win a match.”

The five letter word had them finally meeting one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to address the benched elephant in the room.

“Right,” Y/n let the sheets in her hand fall on the counter, “What the fuck happened today?”

Jamie exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face. There was so much history behind the events of the match, he wasn’t sure where to start.

“You know that sign in the locker room?” Jamie gestured to the space above them, “Above the coach’s office?”

“The ‘Believe’ one?” Y/n replied.

“Yeah,” Jamie folded his arms again, “So…it’s a whole thing but, it means a lot. And when Nate left,” he inhaled to go over that bit of the past, but Y/n stopped him.

“I know who Nate is,” she said. His smug smile was still burned into her brain from earlier in the day.

“Right, so,” Jamie sighed, his tongue poking at his cheek in frustration, “We won last season, Nate stormed out and quit. But Roy and Beard put on this video for us during halftime of him…tearin’ up the sign.”

Y/n rested her head on her hand, listening intently.

“And…” Jamie grasped at the air, “It’s a big deal. To us. To the team. And I think we all just feel…” he paused, “Fuckin’ betrayed or somethin’. That he turned on us. But that sign…” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’….”

During her various trips to the locker room, Y/n had noticed the yellow and blue paper. She hadn’t thought anything of it, just another motivational decoration. She hadn’t realized that it held such a deep meaning to the team.

“So the solution was to get…” Y/n shrugged, “What was it, four red cards?”

“Hey,” Jamie pressed three fingers to his chest, “None of ‘em were me.”

Y/n chuckled, Jamie had managed to stay on the field the entire time. She suspected that might not have been the case a few years prior.

“I get it,” Y/n nodded, “Team loyalty. I mean, I think we’d all have preferred you channeled your anger a little more productively, but…”

Jamie bobbed his head, shame over how they’d dealt with their feelings had begun to set in over the last few hours. But he still couldn’t say he regretted it. Not fully.

“Well, Sky Sports is going to have a field day with you all,” Y/n sighed as she fished through her chips.

“All they’ll be talkin’ about is Zava,” Jamie made his voice more nasally when he uttered the name, “Since he’s the only one of us you wanted today.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow at him, “Well, I was slightly worried that Isaac might dropkick the camera man or Dani might bite a journalist or something.”

Jamie twisted his lips, half-smiling. He couldn’t fault her that.

“Let’s just categorize this day in the ‘suck’ column and move on,” Y/n said, slipping a one-sheet to the back of her pile.

“I’ll second that,” Jamie agreed, stretching his neck to look at the papers, “What’re you looking for a place?”

“Yeah, figured since I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Y/n tried to organize the pile somewhat, “Might as well cut down on the commute.”

Jamie held out his hand for the paper in Y/n’s. He examined the square footage, but mostly the street name.

“Oh, this is a shit area,” he commented, reaching for the Sharpie Y/n had laying nearby.

“I don’t think there are shit areas of Richmond,” Y/n shot back, watching as Jamie made a large ‘x’ across the picture of the apartment, “Wait, what-“

“I’m saving you from overpaying for a crap flat,” Jamie capped the marker and gestured for the other sheets, “Lemme see the others.”

Y/n looked between him and the pile, confused as to what was happening.

“C’mon,” Jamie wiggled his fingers.

She slid half the stack across the bar to him, keeping the other half for herself.

Jamie began to read the details of the first listing over. “This one’s on the other side of town,” he stated.

“I don’t care about that,” Y/n replied, “So long as it’s in town. Plus, it’s got a balcony.”

Jamie held up the next paper and compared the two. “This one’s shit too,” he reached for the marker again, predicting Y/n’s reaction, “Just trust me.”

The two of them sat at the bar, scooting their stools together until the pile had been thinned out and the day had ended more pleasantly than it began.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 19th

Uniform, Phantom x Cardinal Reader

Masterlist ⛧ The Cardinal Masterlist

Words: 6.3k

Warnings: Uniform; sub!Phantom; Cardinal!Reader; dom!Reader; male masturbation; brat!Phantom; power play; abuse of power; praise kink; degradation kink; cock stepping; heel kink; begging; edging; ruined orgasm; worship; hand job; unprotected sex; piv sex; dacrophilia; cunnilingus; cum eating; marking/hickeys; this basically feels like torture porn; I was in a man-eating mood and Phantom was the victim, I would apologise but I enjoyed this too much;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost

This is another favourite... I had so much fun writing this.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

You had always been a dedicated and hardworking member of the Satanic Church, from the time you arrived in your early teens to now. For years, you had toiled tirelessly, demonstrating your commitment to your job and your faith. And though some days it felt like it did, your efforts had not gone unnoticed, and upon the ascension of the previous Cardinal Copia to Papacy, you too, were lifted from your previous life and placed in a position of higher standing. They were, of course, in need of a new Cardinal now that Copia was no longer filling the position.

Your robes were majestic to say the least - designed specifically to you: your body, your youth, the image you wanted to portray when wearing the uniform. The only non-negotiables were: it had to be black or red, you must wear the Grucifix at all times, you had to wear a zucchetto, and you had to adorn the traditional Cardinal make up when in public. The cut of your robes and everything else to do with it was down to your tastes and preferences. You chose something that made you feel like you wielded the power you were given.

Your robes were split into two parts and made of a beautiful, rich, red, satin material combined with accents of white lace in three places: the bottom of the sleeves, the tip of the bodice, and the top of the neck. The dress itself was designed in a fishtail style, with thick straps at the shoulders to keep everything in place - and the bodice being boned and laced like a corset to keep you secured inside. Those straps were hidden underneath a bolero made of matching material, with added drama.

The sleeves were bell-style, with extra material to give a lap-over effect at the elbows. The sleeves’ openings were long enough to reach your knees when you had clasped your hands together at your waist and were pointed at the end. Your forearms, however, were encased in a beautiful white lace that was clasped together with the red satin making it an optional feature. Square shoulders gave you a more formal look, while the bolero’s collar added an extra layer of extravagance. It was in a turtleneck shape with white lace at the top and an ascot-like finish at the bottom, which could be clasped into the bodice of your dress as it reached that far down. When the collar was in its correct place, the red front resembled the Gothic archways of the Ministry’s architecture, while the sharp, pointed features made you look much more intimidating than you anticipated, but very much enjoyed.

The whole ensemble was bookended by a red zuchetto (Copia’s zuchetto which he gifted to you along with the Grucifix you wore upon your ascension) and a pair of Cesare Paciotti dagger heels that you asked a dear Sibling over in the tailoring wing to recreate for you given that you couldn’t afford genuine ones.

As is customary for a Cardinal, you were given two new members of your team - an assistant (a newly ordained Sibling of Sin), and a Ghoul in training. Your Ghoul wouldn’t be a permanent fixture, sadly, given that when Papa needed a new one he would graduate them from their training and take them from a Cardinal now that they were completely experienced. After putting in a special request, you’d asked for your dear friend, Phantom, to work alongside you, knowing that you’d be much happier with him by your side for as long as possible.

When he saw you for the first time, his jaw dropped. His eyes widened beneath his silver metallic, Venetian-inspired trainee mask. Because the trainee mask arched at the base, the tip of his nose and his mouth were completely exposed to you, though painted black, allowing you to see his full reaction. He had arrived at the tailor’s wing to come and escort you to your new office, and was in awe of what he was seeing.

“What do you think?” You asked him pulling at your dress a little like a teenage girl showing her date her prom dress for the first time. Your two-toned lips were curved upwards into a little smile, evidently enthralled at your new uniform and the magic the tailor Sibling had conjured with their own two hands.

“You look incredible, Sister!” Phantom said quickly, a little too loud for even his own liking.

You stood up straight and clasped your hands together at your stomach. You lifted your chin proudly and said, “I’m not sister anymore, Ghoul. I’m Cardinal now, and you shall address me as such.” Your smile was now playful and mischievous, and you were putting on more airs and graces than you usually would just because it was fun. It was fun to remind him of your new title, it was fun to hear people refer to you as Cardinal now.

Phantom gave a nod and a nervous gulp before reciprocating your smile, clearly somewhere deep inside his own head. Once he had grounded himself, he gave you a deep bow, like a commoner would to a princess, playing along with your little game. “My apologies, Cardinal. As your Ghoul, I am to escort you to your new office and chambers.”

You nodded. “Very good, Ghoul. Lead on.”

He stood and opened the door to the tailor’s shop for you to step out and lingered behind you as you walked down the corridors towards the Cardinal’s wing. Usually Phantom would walk beside you, given that you both were friends, but even as Cardinal and Ghoul, he would still be beside you as an equal. Despite the Ministry having a clear heirarchy, none were treated as lesser than. Papa and his Ghouls and assistants walked side-by-side as did everyone else. It was strange walking in silence down a long corridor with your best friend and not have him beside you.

You turned your head to look over your shoulder to see what the matter was. Phantom was, indeed, still behind you. He was now carrying a suitcase full of your extra uniforms, but instead of looking ahead of him, he was looking at you, focussing extra hard on you. You had seen enough men do that to know exactly what it was he was looking at. His eyes were laser focussed on your backside. The cut of the dress meant that all of your lumps, bumps and curves were accentuated flawlessly, certainly giving you a sexier appearance than your old Sibling habit did, and though you felt good and looked good in it, nothing compared to your new Cardinal robes. And apparently, Phantom agreed.

He’d never looked at you before like he was looking at you now. He’d never been in total awe of your overall appearance, or even been speechless in your presence. And he’d certainly never purposefully hung back to walk behind you so he could perv on you. He’d seen your body numerous times before, given that this is the Satanic church that enjoys a good orgy here and there that you both have partaken in. Hell, he’d even been inside you once or twice before. But the way he was looking at you now was different. Like he was seeing you, truly seeing you for the first time.

“How are you supposed to guide me to my new rooms when you’re behind me, Phantom?”

His eyes sharply rose from your backside to your face, and a flicker of shame darted in them. It was barely there, but you caught it. “Right, shit! Sorry!” He ran to catch up with you, and from there on out made sure he was only one step ahead.

The coming weeks were nightmarish for Phantom, truly. You were simply regal in your new uniform, and it had affected your personality too. You were never not confident, but the Cardinal robes had amplified what you already had to now you being damn near untouchable. He noticed that people would move out of the way for you when you walked down the endless Ministry hallways, with him and your Sibling assistant trailing behind you. When you walked into the room, conversations would dwindle and all eyes would be on you. People didn’t fear you quite as much as they were a little intimidated by you, but you were just simply impressive. And the confidence you exuded made you ten times more attractive than you ever had been.

You were also no stranger and no enemy to giving orders and jobs to people when they needed it. Organising events, overseeing renovations, initiating newcomers - whatever your schedule looked like you were on it and had no qualms taking charge, and doing so in your Cardinal robes? Phantom could barely cope. He would set himself on fire if you were cold and he’d thank you for it. He’d worship the ground you walked on like you were Lucifer himself if given half the chance. And the things he thought about when he was alone in his room? When darkness cloaked him and all he could think about was sinning with you, being defiled by you. He would submit to you willingly; do anything you asked him to with a “yes, Cardinal” and “right away, Cardinal”, “anything for you, Cardinal”.

With his hand around his cock, he thought about what it would be like to grip onto your hips with you straddling his lap. He thought about burying his face in your cleavage and kissing at the exposed flesh below the red, Gothic arches you wore. He envisioned you hiking up that dress so you could straddle his face and he could pleasure you, the way his makeup would be stained and smeared all over your thighs and pussy. How your juices would gather in the engravings on his mask while he held you down on his face and worshipped you as you deserved. Or even how your breasts would bounce under the bodice of your dress as he railed you, as he speared you on his cock and fucked into you relentlessly. He remembered how good your cries were the last time he fucked you - and he hated himself for not savouring the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around his aching cock. Every night after work, he would throw himself onto his bed and stroke himself to orgasm. Orgasm after orgasm until it got to the point he was surprised he had anything left to give. He wanted you so fucking badly, but he had no idea if he was even allowed to have you anymore.

Every day you would do something, or act in a certain way that made life a little more difficult for him. And the worst part about all of it was you didn’t even know - because in reality, you weren’t doing anything wrong. He was just becoming so painfully attracted to you that it was hurting him, and he didn’t know what to do.

You started noticing the little slip ups three weeks into your job. The way the small things would always go wrong, the way he’d relay the wrong messages to people, the way he’d do something and not do it correctly. But you realised something needed to be done about it when one of Papa’s Ghouls, Swiss, came to you with a very angry note from Papa letting you know that Phantom had colossally fucked up, and he’d relayed the wrong message and because of that the Ministry’s power was down for an hour while the maintenance guys tried to find the problem that didn’t actually exist. Papa couldn’t rehearse with his Ghouls which meant he was even more stressed about the upcoming tour.

You found Phantom in the kitchens nursing a tub of Häagen-Dazs strawberry ice cream and the rest of the kitchen staff moving around him frustratedly while they were trying to prepare for the dinner rush.

“Good evening, Cardinal ___.”

The rest of the Siblings echoed the greeting and you responded with a polite bow of your head. That was when Phantom looked up at you and sighed. He grabbed the tub and went to stand, making an attempt to run away, but you were too fast and stopped him from disappearing. “Please just let me wallow.” He said, his voice filled with irritation.

“No. We’re going to talk about this and we’re going to figure out a solution.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care. We have to.”

“Um, Cardinal,” your attention was drawn to a middle-aged Sibling who was looking more and more exasperated by the second, “with all due respect we need this space to be free for the staff.”

“Of course, we’re just leaving. Thank you for being patient.”

The walk back to your office was long and silent; incredibly awkward. Phantom was trudging along behind you, still very clearly troubled and in fact, now he was much more anxious. Reaching your office was no better either, because trying to get the problem out of him was like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. He sat there in silence for a while, as if you were a cop trying to get information out of him. There was a brief moment when you thought he’d ask to call his lawyer.

“Phantom,” you pleaded for what felt like the eighteenth time, “I can’t help you unless you tell me what the problem is.”

“What if I don’t want help?” He said, petulantly.

“That’s tough shit, unfortunately. You caused a big stink today. You’re going to have help whether you like it or not. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“No.”

“Phantom.” Your voice became deep and warning. It made him falter, but he didn’t budge.

“No!”

“Satan’s taint, Phantom! The way you’re acting I have half a mind to take you over my knee and spank you until you behave yourself.” His eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed. That caught your attention. “Unless you want that.”

“Of course I don’t.”

You stood up and walked to the other side of your desk, leaning against it. As Phantom was sat down still, you towered over him. As you walked, your dagger heels clunked on the wooden floor below you. The atmosphere had shifted, and what had become a friend trying to help another had quickly turned into a game of power where your closest friend was on the verge of submitting to you. “I think you do.”

“You’re wrong.” Phantom was always a little shit, that was why you loved having him around. The man was the very definition of cheeky - naughty but was so cute he could get away with it, especially with you. You’d had to reign him in before, but you didn’t realise this would be how you’d have to do it for the foreseeable future.

“You’ve been harbouring some feelings towards someone, haven’t you?” Phantom didn’t want to reply at first, which told you everything you needed to know. He continued looking at the ground and avoiding eye contact, and this just wouldn’t do. You placed your index finger and thumb on his chin and moved his head, forcing him to look at you. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

You hummed. “That someone is me, yes?” He nodded but of course that wasn’t good enough for your ego. “Ah, ah. Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.”

Phantom released a sharp breath at the praise, shaky with the nerves he was feeling.

“Tell me about it.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can, my little prince. Tell me everything and I’ll give you a reward.”

He began recounting everything to you, the words spilling out of him with no end in sight. He poured his entire brain on the floor for you to rifle through at your leisure, sparing none of the more intricate or delicate parts of his torment. He detailed how he touched himself at the thought of you, how he spilled onto his stomach at the very idea that you would give him a scrap of attention, and how the whole thing had been eating away at him. All the while, you maintained eye contact with him, jerking his head back towards you every time his shame made him look away. When he finished, he breathed a sigh of relief, though he was still just as nervous as he was when he started talking.

“Such a good boy for me. Obedience deserves a reward, doesn’t it. What shall it be?” Your eyes glanced down at his growing bulge. “Do you want me to touch you?”

There was no hesitation. “Yes, Cardinal.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Cardinal? Oh. He conveniently left out your promotion in his story. That changed things a bit. Oh yes, this could be very fun. That same hand that was holding his head in place began moving downwards, across the clothed expanse of his chest, down passed his tummy, until eventually your fingers danced over his clothed (now very hard) cock. You didn’t immediately grab him, instead opting to just run light fingers over the material and watch his eyes turn from wanting to pleading.

“Although, you have been holding out on me for weeks. And Papa is very displeased. You’re my responsibility now. You got me into a lot of trouble with Papa.” You groped his whole cock now and released a low chuckle when he gasped.

“I’m s-sorry.”

“You will be.” You cut all physical contact with him and stepped back, leaning up against your desk again. “Kneel on the floor.” You told him.

He obeyed immediately, getting on his knees and looking up at you with wide, expectant eyes. But when you moved, he became distracted by it. You lifted your dress just enough for your heels and ankles to be revealed and raised your dominant foot to rest on his thick thigh. You let the toes of your pumps slide up his jeans towards his crotch, and watched as his breathing became heavier and heavier in anticipation for what was to come. At any point, he could have stopped you. Your previous sexual exploits have already established bedroom rules which allowed you both to just plough ahead and wait for the withdrawal of consent - which never came. What did come, however, was Phantom’s gasp when the red sole of your pump arrived at his cock, and applied just a little pressure. Enough to make his hands rush up to your bare calf and grip hold of the flesh. He let out a groan.

“Papa sent one of his very angry Ghouls earlier today to tell me about your fuck up.” You began. You moved your sole up and down a little, teasing him more as his mind became increasingly more and more blank. “I have to report to him later on this afternoon and tell him what happened and what I plan on doing with you. What do you think I should tell him? Should I tell him that my Ghoul was too horny to function? Should I tell him that my Ghoul is now dry humping my stilettos in desperation like a dog?”

Phantom didn’t even realise his hips were moving until you brought it up. His eyes had been shut tight at the feel of you, and how every so often, your heel would scrape against his clothed testicles.

You continued chastising him. “I should have recorded that for Papa to see. Show him what I’m dealing with.” You started rubbing his length in a rhythmic motion, mostly putting pressure on him and releasing it again.

Phantom let go of his inhibitions for just a second and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling, eyes closed and hips rocking against you, meeting your own movements perfectly. All the while, desperate whimpers were falling from his lips, strained little grunts that filled the room exquisitely. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop the noises that stumbled out of him. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this; he knew that this was supposed to be his punishment. But it just felt so good. He couldn’t help himself.

“Are you enjoying this, my little prince?” You asked him, a condescending tone decorating your low voice, looking down at him desperately humping your heel. He truly looked pathetic.

“F-feels good.”

“Oh, does it? Is my needy little prince enjoying his punishment a little too much?”

“I’m sorry…” His voice was tight, like he was about to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It feels so good. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so needy. I’m sorry I’m enjoying this. I’m sorry!” Everything that tumbled from his lips happened in the span of one breath. His hand moved from your calf down to the top of your foot, pushing you down onto him so he could gain more pleasure from your body without permission.

“My once good boy is acting like a bit of a slut, huh?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Let me hear you say it. What are you?”

“A slut! I’m a slut. I’m such a little slut.”

“Whose slut?”

“Your slut! I’m your slut. I’m a slut for my Cardinal. I’m gonna cum.”

“No, you’re not. Not without permission.”

“Can I cum, please?”

“No.”

“Please, please, please, Cardinal, please! I need to cum. I need to cum so badly. Please, Cardinal! I’m begging you, please let me cum, please!”

By the quickness of his hips you could tell that he was close. You hung on a little more before you pulled your foot away from him. His eyes widened in terror as the orgasm he was on the precipice of having began ebbing away from him, and fading back into nothingness being replaced by his painful hardness of his cock. “No!” He screamed. The noise itself was primal and full of devastation, like he’d just watched something he love get destroyed. This wasn’t the cool, calm and collected Phantom you knew. This wasn’t the mischievous little devil you had the pleasure of being friends with for all these years. This was a desperate, wounded animal on the floor begging for mercy.

You dropped your dress back onto the floor and began to walk away from him, your hand on the door handle. “I’ll go and tell Papa you’ve been adequately punished for your actions.” You had no intention of opening the door, but you did jiggle the handle to get his reaction.

He dove forward, landing on his stomach and resting his head on the floor, fully bowing to you like a worshipper would their deity. “Please forgive me! Please don’t leave me like this. Please let me cum! Please, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything, please! I’ll be a good boy, I promise!”

“Yeah? You’ll be a good boy?”

“Yes, Cardinal!”

“You’ll start listening to your Cardinal when she gives instructions?”

“Yes, Cardinal!”

“And you’ll start behaving yourself and you’ll come to your Cardinal when you have a problem?”

“Yes, Cardinal!”

You walked back to your desk and sat on it this time. “On your feet, precious boy.” Phantom stood immediately. You dragged your dress up over your knees, revealing your thighs to him and then eventually your panties. After shuffling around a little, you pulled them off revealing your slick-soaked cunt to his hungry eyes. He wanted to dive straight in, to lap up everything he could see, and he moved forward as if he were going to. But you placed your heel on his stomach and held him at a distance. “No. I have other plans.” You removed your foot again. “Strip. I want no item of clothing left on you… except that mask.”

The mask stripped away his identity. He wasn’t even supposed to have a name, but he’d chose it for the other Ghouls to use. You planned on using him tonight, as he apparently wanted, and the mask would strip him of his humanity. Make him just a toy to play with and nothing more.

He fought with his clothes, his clouded brain struggling to perform the basic task he usually did daily. But eventually he stood there, completely naked, his cock red, swollen and painfully hard, standing fully to attention and waiting for your next touch. You beckoned him closer with your index finger and as soon as he was in reach, you spat on and then wrapped your hand around his cock and began to stroke.

You wanted to torture him a little more, dragging more pained whimpers out of him but there was something so delectable about the whimpers that came out of him when you overstimulated him. How when you stroked him and focussed on his sensitive head, he did everything he could to squirm out of your grasp, but failed every time. “Oh fuck!” He screamed, white knuckling the desk below you as your hand worked him. “Please, please, please. I’m so desperate.”

“You are?”

“Yes!”

“Oh poor baby. Just wants to cum doesn’t he?”

“Please! I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you. Please.” Your hand tightened around the head of his cock. “Cardinal, it’s too much! It’s too much. Wait. Fuck! It’s way too sensitive. Please, please, please, please.” You watched his chest rise and fall erratically as he struggled to breathe through the stimulation. Drool had begun to form at the corner of his mouth the faster you moved. “N-not on the tip, please! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Your brain decided to do something even crueller. You let go of him one more time but this time you spread your legs wider allowing him to get closer to your core. “Really!?” He asked, his eyes wide and ready to bury himself inside.

“Of course, baby boy.”

He lined himself up and entered you, but he moaned in despair when he felt your hands on his abdomen stopping him from burying himself in further. You only allowed his tip to enter you, and that was as far as he could go. “Cardinal, no! Please! Please don’t do this! Please let me go all the way in, please!”

“It’s this or nothing, my prince. What do you want?”

Weighing up his options he began shallowly thrusting into you, his eyes roaming over your entire body and taking in your collected appearance. He was a sweaty, red mess underneath his mask and paints. But you, not a single hair was out of place. Your robes were still pristine and perfect, no sweat staining the satin. He protested and complained but even if it was just the tip inside you, he still felt incredible. He watched as his movements barely made you blink.

You moved one of your hands up to play with one of his nipples, causing him to cry out and thrust a little further in than he intended. But this one little movement made him - “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum! Can I please cum? Please, please, please, Cardinal, please! Please I’m begging you let me cum please.”

“Pull out.”

“No please! Please don’t make me.”

You reached round to the back of his head and pulled on his hair. “Pull out.”

Reluctantly he did as you asked and took the smallest step back, the head of his cock touching your clit still needing to be touched. You wrapped your hand around him again and began stroking, focussing on the tip again and earning a whine from him. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“I didn’t say you could cum yet.”

“Please can I cum? Please, please, please!” You could see his eyes were welling up with tears threatening to spill out at a moments notice.

“Aw, look at you. Whining and rutting into my hand like a pathetic little slut. Does the little slut need to cum, hm?”

“Yes!”

“Does he wanna cum so hard for his Cardinal?”

“Yes, Cardinal.”

“Cum for me.”

It didn’t take much more than that for him to thrust one more time to near completion. “Thank you! Thank you, Cardinal! This little slut’s cumming! I’m cumming for you. I’m cu- No!” Just as white began to spill out of him, you released him from your grip and held tightly onto both of his wrists, preventing him from stimulating himself as he came. The orgasm that was building to be one of the most powerful he’d had in a while was now nothing more than a tiny tingle while his cum oozed out of him and gathered on your bare cunt. Tears spilled out of his eyes finally after all the time he’d kept them contained for as long as he possibly could. You watched with evil delight as they ran down his filigree embossed mask, dripping down and around the engravings. He whimpered, both from the emotion and from the sensitivity of his dick.

His cum pooled on the desk below you as it oozed off your folds and slopped onto the wood. “You’ve got me all dirty now.” You told him. Your tone was just as condescending as it had been before, but this time exuded a hint of anger. Fake, of course, it was all just for show after all. But even so, you were having too much fun with this. “Be a good boy and clean it up.”

“Yes, Cardinal.”

You looked down your nose at him, observing as he dropped so his knees. His gentle, yet calloused hands gripped onto your knees and spread them apart to give him better access to his filth. His tongue darted out in anticipation of touching your folds and once your hands tangled in his hair and pushed him forward, he got the message, diving in immediately. His tongue gathered as much of himself off the desk as he possibly could, swallowing himself down as if it were some kind of drug before turning his attention to your waiting and dripping cunt. His black lips, though now some pink was peeking through from the amount of lip biting and sweating he’d done during this whole ordeal, suctioned against your clit and sucked, tongue coming to play as he worked to bring you to orgasm as quickly as you could.

Your back arched as he sucked particularly hard, making your hole clench around nothing desperately. His brown hair was becoming messier and messier the harder you tugged, keeping him there to stop him from ruining your own oncoming orgasm - because you knew that was something that had crossed his mind. He was a little shit after all.

“Is this making you feel better, hm?” You asked, head thrown back and voice strangled. “Knowing that you’re being useful today after everything you did?” You gripped hold of one of his hands with your free one and put it on your thigh, extending both of your legs so they rested on his shoulders. You dug your stiletto into his back just a little - enough to cause a pleasurable pain that had him grunting. “Answer me!”

His response was a simple grunt.

You watched his hips move, humping the air and begging to release more of the tension that had built in the time it took him to eat you out. His anguish was palpable enough to drive him to his animalistic preset. Humans don’t hump the air in search of pleasure, humans don’t whimper profusely into their meal, humans don’t allow themselves to be driven mad by arousal. He was still the wounded animal that was begging you earlier to make him cum. “Is the little slut hard again?”

Another grunt in confirmation.

“Well, if you do a good job and make your Cardinal cum, I’ll let you fuck me properly.”

He sucked on your cunt more fervently than before, his neediness for your approval, and by extension, your cunt urging him to work even harder to get you off. He needed your orgasm just as much as you did. The sadistic voice in your head was reeling at this, getting off on his patheticness and the little whimpers and noises he was making below you. The sound of his mouth and saliva working over your insanely wet core, not to mention the tiny moans. His fingers were grabbing onto your thigh tightly as he pressed his face deeper. You were sure he was struggling to breathe but it wouldn’t last long - you were driving head first into an earth-shattering orgasm within moments of announcing your intentions.

You kept him against you, riding his face and bucking your hips, using his tongue to finish. When your breath came back to you, you released him from your grip and sighed. “Come on then, little prince. A promise is a promise.”

He wasted no time, standing immediately and lining himself up but not pushing in. He looked at you, wide, teary eyes begging you silently to grant him permission to enter you again… this time fully. “Take your pleasure, sweetheart.”

He bottomed out right away, the pleasure overwhelming him instantly and manifesting in the sob of a broken man, now burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Th-thank you!” He grunted in between sobs and now needy thrusts as he took what he could from you, as quickly as he could, before you changed your mind and told him to stop. He didn’t know that this was it, that you’d let him cum inside you when he was ready, and this made him savour every feeling of his cock dragging against your salacious walls, every time his tip kissed your cervix roughly. “Thank you. Thank you! Thank you!”

“Does it feel good?”

“It feels so good, Cardinal. Thank you! You’re so tight. I can’t breathe. I - fuck!”

His mouth needed to do something as he let your cunt whip him into a frenzy. His lips began kissing every part of exposed flesh he could touch, the cold metal of his mask biting against your skin and adding a layer of pleasure to your sensitive spots. You felt him hone in one the exposed skin of your chest between the Gothic arches of your uniform, licking and sucking the spot there to help him expel some of that overwhelming emotion he was feeling, tears still falling from his eyes. One of his hands clutched onto your robes, holding you as tightly as he possibly could as if you were going to walk away from him and not let him cum. When he lifted his head to look at you, a string of saliva snapped from between your bodies and you saw the purple bruise he left behind… so very obvious to the rest of the Ministry what your most recent activity had been. You wanted to be mad at him, but the idea that everyone would know what you’d been up to had you tightening around his pistoning cock and pulling another groan from him.

“Cum- cumming! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“I got you, baby. Cum inside me. That’s it. That’s a good boy.”

He couldn’t wait for your permission. Both of his hands gripped your hips to desperately prevent you from wriggling away and he buried himself as deep as he could, hitting your cervix and completely emptying his load into you.

You continued your praise all while you hand came back to his hair and stroked him comfortingly. “So fucking good for me. Give me everything you have. There we go. Good job, baby boy.”

His toes curled, his fingers dug into your flesh, and he screamed at the sensation, that once powerful orgasm that was ruined now coming back threefold . His tears stopped for a mere moment while he fought to regain his breath, but once his orgasm subsided, he collapsed onto you, leaning against the desk and burying his head in your neck again. He wept, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this moment of overwhelm, and still clutching onto you. Sub-drop didn’t usually hit immediately, but it did with him, especially given the mood he was in before this all began.

You didn’t urge him to pull out, or move anywhere, instead you wrapped him up in your arms and let him cry as he needed to. “It’s okay, Phantom. I got you. You’re safe. I got you.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

You hushed him. “Listen to me, you have nothing to apologise for, okay? I should be the one saying sorry. I didn’t let you feel like you could come to me. I made you suffer for so long. Today included. I’m so sorry.” You reached up and undid the clasps around his head holding his mask in place, and softly removed it. He kept his face hidden for a while, not for anonymity or because it was expected of a Ghoul to completely hide their identity, but because he couldn’t bear to let you see his red, blotchy, tear-stained face - not right away at least.

When he had calmed down significantly, you felt him stand and let him, though you still kept your arms around him in a hug. You wiped the tears from his eyes, and peppered soft kisses around his face. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble with Papa.”

“You didn’t… well, you did but he’ll get over it. He was just lashing out at Swiss because he’s stressed, who then lashed out at me also because he’s stressed. In reality it had nothing to do with you.” For the first time, perhaps ever, you leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, trying to help him calm down. “Are you okay?”

He nodded.

“Promise me something: promise me you won’t keep anything bottled up anymore. Promise me that no matter how awkward it is, you’ll come and talk to me.”

He nodded again.

“No, baby, I need to hear you say it. Promise me.”

“I p-promise.” He said, tears beginning to fall again.

You held him in your arms for as long as he needed you, and spent the rest of the day comforting and loving him as much as he wanted. You made sure you cancelled any meetings to give him your attention, and kept him as top priority. This sweet, soft and sensitive boy eventually came back to life, turning into his insufferably cheeky self by the end of the day… except this time he was much clingier and hornier than before. Especially for you.

Kinktober: Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

The Cardinal:

Masterlist ⛧ The Cardinal Masterlist

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

#mel writes #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghost kinktober #the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul x reader #nameless ghoul x reader smut #nameless ghoul smut #nameless ghoul #the nameless ghouls #phantom #phantom ghoul #phantom ghost #phantom x reader #phantom x reader smut #phantom smut #smut #ghost fan fiction #ghost fanfic #ghost fandom #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction

[ama0310]

Interruptions

Character: Tom Blyth

Requested: No

Type: Fluff

Summary: Tom Blythe’s girlfriend, Amelia Burkhart joins the cast of The Ballad of the Songbirds and Snakes as Sejanus Plinth’s girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia never thought she would have the pleasure of working with her boyfriend, but after many years in the industry she finally has the chance to say she has. 

Working in a franchise as big as The Hunger Games was such a surreal experience , and the fact that she gets to share it with the person she loves most adds an extra layer of perfection. 

Her connection with Tom, sparked through a mutual friend, has consistently radiated fireworks. Now, after two amazing years together, they find themselves side by side, working on the anticipated Hunger Games prequel. 

The funny thing about that was that she plays Anastasia Clemence, the love interest of Sejanus Plinth, while Tom, cast as Coriolanus Snow, found himself entangled with Lucy Gray, portrayed by Rachel Zegler, who happens to be Josh Rivera’s girlfriend who is playing Sejanus Plinth.

It was like an episode of girlfriend swap everyday on set. A humorous acknowledgment among the actors. 

In a pivotal scene, Josh and Amelia engage in a passionate exchange, transitioning seamlessly from a heated argument to an intense make-out session. And for some reason both Tom and Rachel decided to watch it.

“Are you serious Sej? You’re working with the dam rebels. Do you not even want to go back home?” Amelia slipped into Anastasia's shoes the moment the cameras started filming. Amelia, as Anastasia, confronts Josh’s Sejanus, discovering his involvement with the rebels.

Josh ran a hand through his hair looking at the girl in front of him, “I need to do something with my life Stasia, I need you to understand that.” He responded, expressing Sejanus’ commitment “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. It’s not fair to them.” 

As emotions surged, Amelia, teary-eyed, pleaded with him before pushing at his chest, “It’s not fair to me that you are putting yourself at risk, Sejanus. This isn’t just about you. This is about our future, our life, and you’re throwing it all away and for what? You can get hurt Sej, or worse, you can get killed.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears grabbing onto his face, “you can’t leave me. You just can’t. I-I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” 

He sighs leaning his forehead against hers,”It’s all going to be okay Stasia, I promise. I need you to trust me. Coryo has a plan. He’ll get us out of here.” He presses his lips to her forehead mumbling, “I won’t ever leave you . I promise.” 

The atmosphere hung in suspense before a sudden surge of passion seized through Amelia. She grabbed the back of his neck, pressing her lips to his, arms immediately wrapping around her waist, with an urgency that transformed them into Anastasia and Sejanus. 

He effortlessly lifts her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and slams her against the wall. Their tongues intertwined, teeth colliding in a chaotic dance that defined their unique connection–a beautiful mess that belonged solely to them. His hands ran through her hair, gently tugging, evoking a soft moan from her.

The scene took an unexpected turn as her boyfriend’s voice disrupted the intimacy.“DO IT AGAIN SHE LIKES IT ROUGH,” he proclaimed, shattering the moment. Amelia couldn’t help but burst into laughter, followed by Josh, who carefully placed her back on the ground.

"Tom, we've been through this before – you can't just shout out like that." The director sighed, chuckling slightly. "You're a bit weird, you know? You might be the first actor I've come across who enjoys watching their girlfriend kiss another actor. Let's take a 5-minute break, and then we'll give it another shot." He gestured toward Tom and Rachel. "…But this time, without either of you here."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "I didn't even do anything; it was all him." She accused Tom, pointing at the man who pretended to be shocked. The director rolled his eyes playfully as he headed out the door. She lightly smacked Tom's arm. "See what you did? You just got us kicked out of the scene."

Amelia and Josh approached the other duo. Amelia gave Tom a light shove. "You knew that was going to be a perfect take. Now we have to do it all over again."

Tom smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't help myself. This..." He motioned to the four of them. "...always makes me laugh."

Josh draped his arm around his girl. "You don't catch either of us making a scene during your performances. We're the epitome of well-behaved." He and Amelia exchanged a high five. 

Tom glanced at Amelia, the girl nestled in his arms, and grinned. "Alright, I'll behave next time. And you," he pointed at Josh, "better keep that tongue of yours in check."

Amelia's eyes widened in horror at Tom's comment, while Rachel and Josh erupted in laughter before making their way towards the snacks. 

Amelia wrapped her arms around Tom's neck, shaking her head. "You're terrible. But Tim's right; I never thought you'd be up for watching me kiss another guy in real life. On screen, it's different, but showing up to these shoots is just crazy."

Tom gave her a light kiss. "It's Josh. We both swap kisses with each other's girlfriends." He shrugged playfully. "I trust you. I know the role you're playing, and I know you'll give it your all." Leaning in, he hovered over her lips. "Plus, after his untimely death, Anastasia has no other choice but to run into the arms of his best friend." He kissed her slowly, making her melt. "And then it'll be you and me in these scenes. No interruptions."

#president snow #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tbosbas #sejanus plinth #thg #Tom Blyth x OC

[gaybatmanenthusiast]

PARTNERS IN CRIME (oneshot)

(LEON S. KENNEDY X MALE READER)

⋆★ word count : 548

⋆★ warnings : n/a

⋆★ summary : (m/n) is new to the force and him and detective leon clash !

⋆★ extra : RAAAHHHHHH on that stardew grind rn icl

Detective (M/N), renowned for his meticulous attention to detail and methodical investigative skills, joined the same police department as the charismatic and impulsive Detective Leon. Right from the start, their conflicting approaches to solving cases clashed like oil and water.

(M/N) preferred to gather evidence systematically, following a carefully crafted plan. On the other hand, Leon relied on his intuition and instincts, often diving headfirst into situations without a second thought. Their clashes created tension between them, making their partnership difficult in the beginning.

—

As fate would have it, (M/N) and Leon were paired together to work on a challenging murder case. Initially, each was skeptical of the other's methods, but as they started pooling their strengths, they realized that their differences were a blessing in disguise. (M/N)'s analytical mind spotted crucial details that Leon would have missed, while Leon's spur-of-the-moment decisions broke open new leads that (M/N) would have never considered.

Slowly, respect began to blossom between them. They admired each other's unique skills and learned to trust each other's judgment. Their once-opposing styles merged, and they became an unstoppable team, earning a reputation for solving the toughest cases.

Together, (M/N) and Leon faced countless challenges, cracking cases that seemed unsolvable to others. Their colleagues and superiors noticed their remarkable success rate, and their partnership became legendary within the department. They were entrusted with the most high-profile cases, taking on criminals that others deemed unbeatable.

But amidst the intensity of their work, something unexpected blossomed between them. The deep respect and friendship they had developed over time started to evolve into something more romantic. Their hearts beat faster in each other's presence, and their gazes held more meaning than mere camaraderie.

Working closely together, their shared victories and shared experiences deepened their connection. (M/N) began to appreciate Leon's passion and spontaneity, while Leon admired (M/N)'s intelligence and dedication. It was during a particularly challenging case that their emotions finally came bubbling to the surface.

In a moment of vulnerability, (M/N) confessed his growing feelings for Leon, uncertain how the impulsive detective would react. But Leon's eyes sparkled with the same emotions, and in that instant, they knew their partnership would forever transcend the boundaries of friendship.

Their partnership evolved into a beautiful romance, adding an extra layer of depth and emotion to their crime-solving adventures. They navigated the complexities of balancing personal and professional life, supporting and lifting each other through the highs and lows of their demanding profession.

Together, (M/N) and Leon faced danger head-on, solved mysteries that perplexed others, and made a lasting difference in the world. Their love story became the foundation that fueled their determination to bring justice to the victims and protect the innocent.

—

(M/N) and Leon's partnership flourished, their love becoming the driving force behind their crime-solving endeavors. Their bond only grew stronger as they faced countless challenges together, with their colleagues and superiors in awe of their unwavering commitment.

As they held hands, ready to tackle another case, they knew that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, their love for each other would guide them through. With (M/N)'s analytical mind and Leon's intuitive instincts, they became an indestructible force, forever united in their pursuit of truth and justice.

#male reader #writers on tumblr #x male reader #x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

So we all love slightly overprotective Big Brother Jason, but do you know what's also amazing?

More than slightly overprotective Big Brother Tim.

Like yeah, he knows that Damian is a capable fighter and has tried to kill him several times, but also baby? Is baby? Protect baby! Besides, what's a little attempted murder between siblings? Jason tried to kill Tim, and now they have movie nights every other Wednesday. It's fine.

When they have a patrol together Tim takes them out to get water ice as a treat once they're done. He makes sure to ask about Damian's art and how he's doing in his classes. He keeps an eye out for all of Damian's triggers and is ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. He keeps any and all contingency plans for his siblings under lock and key but keeps Damian's behind seven extra layers of protection.

One time some lady at a gala said "Damian's going to get a lot of attention when he's eighteen, if you know what I mean" and by the end of the night Tim had dug up every dirty secret on her and gave it to Jason and Babs to do with it what they would.

Damian acts like it's infantilizing and unnecessary, but they both know he apprentices the care and attention. It helps him feel like they've moved on from the rocky start of their relationship into being actual brothers.

Love it. Would Jason end up being jealous mildly put out that Tim’s beating him to overprotectivateing (no I’d didn’t just make that work up shush) Damian? Because that could also be hilarious.

Also I feel like Damian would do it right back to Tim in some way or another. Maybe while being as irritating as possible because 10-13 year olds are just Like That sometimes.

Okay so (now that this idea is committing nuclear fission in my brain) what if Jason sees Tim and Damian being overprotective of each other and they keep beating him to the (occasionally literal) punch, and so he goes, “why am I even here.”

He tries to turn his overprotective mother-henning tendencies towards someone else. Cass tells him no. Steph can’t stop laughing but does accept all good offerings. Dick is not-so-secretly thrilled. But that ruins it for Jason because eww Dick is just accepting this with heartfelt thank yous and hugs and hasn’t even tried to stab Jason or break into his safe house once.

And then Jason runs across this little kid that turns out to be a member of the justice league with no parental figure in sight and this is perfect.

Jason shows up to Gotham with Billy Batson in tow and it takes Tim and Damian all of four seconds to go protective big-brother on him. (“I’m older than you!” “Irrelevant.”)

Tim and Damian take Billy to a shooting range. Cue Jason complaining to a mildly amused and very entertained (yet unsympathetic) Steph. “That’s my thing. That is literally my thing.”

#sorry this ran away #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #batfam #batkids #dick grayson #stephanie brown #billy batson my baby #cassandra cain

[murciafire]

Fallen Angels

Pairing: Jason Todd x f! reader

Summary: You had never expected to see him again, not when life had pulled you both apart. But there he was, and there were you—the past and the future all at once.  

Warnings: sexual assault; abuse.

Notes: Part 1 of We’ll Never Be Those Kids Again

Words: ~2.4K

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:

Jason felt it then, the pull.

He hadn’t felt it in years, and he hadn’t expected to feel it here, of all places, where the smoke of cigars suffocated the room, the music thrummed his body to life, and where adrenaline met danger in a shattering burst of guilty pleasure—the Iceberg Lounge. He, of course, wasn’t here for the front that the club was, but rather for the bartering of illegal information of Gotham City’s underworld. He was there for a mission, one he thought he wouldn’t stray from—knew he wouldn’t deviate from, as he was looking for a corrupted cop that had information on human trafficking. Easy in, easy out—maybe a few bloody knuckles, but those barely counted as anything (except maybe as extra points in his satisfaction meter at seeing another sick bastard go down), but then again, nothing was ever easy when emotions—fickle, terrible, distracting things—got involved.

He lifted his eyes from the drink he cradled in his hand and sought the room, his eyes taking in every detail of the club, scanning meaningless faces until he found the one that he was looking for.

You.

He hadn’t seen you since you were kids, when nothing else mattered except how the both of you were going to survive, but more importantly, when nothing mattered more than each other.  Jason certainly hadn’t forgotten his life in Crime Alley, not when it was so etched into his mind and engraved into his soul that made his being, and perhaps, he thought, the same could be said about you. He had never forgotten you, not when you were so prominent in his mind—in his heart too, if you knew where to look under the layers of grief and torment, because there, in the hollowed space of his heart he had carved out and protected, there had always been a place for that girl that made him feel loved. And he carried that with him everywhere he went.  

But it wasn’t just life in the Crime Alley, it was life before and after Bruce too. When he was Robin, and he was looking for ways to get you out. When he was Red Hood, and the only thing that kept him truly alive was you. You had been there for all his life, the good, the bad, the downright ugliness of it. Even if you weren’t there physically, he always felt like you were—carrying a piece of you in his heart that he would never let go of.

And it was odd, so extremely unnerving for him to see you, because you hadn’t changed but at the same time, you had. Your eyes, he couldn’t ever forget them, not when he had stared so unabashedly into them when he was younger, because to him, your eyes had pulled him into the earth and grounded him so steadily he felt like he could change the world—even for a second. Where he felt like he could make the world a better place for you and him.

But it was a wish he had made on a star that was dead and it had never come true, and he had never felt that be more utterly true than when he saw you in your provocative little dress, flirting with men who didn’t give two shits about you. You had always been beautiful to him—an angel, a saving grace. But now you looked like a sin he would commit for the rest of his life—and every atom in him pulled him towards you. Fuck, were you made for him.

Jason clenched his jaw, watching you as you made your rounds with a tray of drinks, letting the men graze their wandering hands on you as if you were only there for their pleasure; a body without a soul—but what had made it more sickening was that you let them. He felt his blood boil as you made your way around the Iceberg Lounge, flirting with every god damn man you walked past. Millions of questions ran through his mind, and his thoughts raced as he wondered where the hell he should even start with you.

He got up from where he sat at the bar and weaved through the bodies, feeling the pull become stronger as he neared you. You were just about to do another round when you felt a hand gently place itself on your shoulder—warm, steady, kind. Your heart stumbled as it started because no one had been this tender with you in a long time.

You turned to the man to flash him a smile, one that you knew made every man bend to your will, as you forced back your confusion at the soft touch. But when your eyes met his, you were suddenly drowning in pools of teal flecked with gold, and you felt the world gave way and your breath vanish.

���Jason?” you said, your eyes searching his urgently as emotions flitted across your face. Jason had just kept staring at you, his face void of emotion as if he was reconciling with himself that this was, in fact, his childhood best friend—and maybe you were still there, somewhere, underneath that skin-tight dress and fake smile.

“I . . .” you trailed off, stunned. You shook your head, furrowing your brows. There was too much to say, too little time. So, you opted for the most obvious question. “What are you doing here?”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “What am I doing here?” he asked in disbelief and frustration. “How about you answer my damn question, y/n. What the hell are you doing in the Iceberg Lounge?”

“Jason—” you started but was cut off as a customer shouted for you. Anger built up inside you, and it wasn’t directed at Jason, it was because of the shame that you felt because this was where you had ended up. And you thought—hoped—that Jason would never see you become the person you both hated. You had never expected to see him again, not when life had pulled you both apart. But there he was, and there were you—the past and the future all at once.  “You don’t get to do this,” you said frustratedly, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You don’t just get to walk in here and start this.”

You turned away to walk towards the customer, but Jason grabbed your arm. “I get to ask whatever the hell I want right now, y/n, ’cause you don’t get to play innocent here.”

He spun you around, so you faced him, his eyes burning as they stared into yours. “What exactly are you doing in the Iceberg Lounge?”

You tried to get out of his grip, but he held onto you tightly—as if you were the only thing he could hold onto to stay alive.

“I work here,” you spat.

“So, you decided to just throw your life away and strip?” Jason said lividly. It was beyond his belief that you could just decide to throw your life away like this.

 “This isn’t you, y/n,” he continued. “This isn’t the girl who I grew up with and spent every waking second with. What the hell happened to you over the years? Because it sure as hell wasn’t something good.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Let go,” you hissed, feeling customers around you begin to look at your dispute. “People are staring.”

Jason didn’t need to look around to feel the eyes on them, and he couldn’t care less. He was completely pissed off. “Let them stare, stripper,” he snapped back, anger dripping off his words, projecting the hurt he felt. “They’ve already seen everything about you anyways.”

You flinched at his words, not expecting them to sting, but they did regardless.

“Is this how you want to play?” you asked darkly, yanking your arm out of his grasp. You watched as his expression grew colder as he clenched his hands.

“It was great seeing you too, Jay,” you said sarcastically, walking away from him. You thought you could just walk away after what you had done? Absolutely not. Jason grabbed your hand again, pulling you into his chest.

“So, you’re just gonna walk away like nothing happened?” he growled. “Like I wouldn’t notice you dancing around in a slut’s dress in the Iceberg Lounge? You can’t hide your face, y/n. Not from me.”

You bit back harsher words. “I don’t know what you expect from me here, Jason,” you said frustratedly and at a loss.

“I expect you to be the y/n that I grew up with. Not some slut working in the Iceberg Lounge,” Jason snapped, not afraid to say what was on his mind. “I expected better from you, y/n. So much better.”

You kept you mouth shut, letting the seconds tick by as anger fueled by hurt burned between you. After a few moments you both used it to catch breaths, chests heaving, you glowered.

“Guess we’re both disappointed,” you said, voice low.

Jason glared at you as he kept his hold on you. You were pissing him off immensely. You were nothing like the soft-spoken and kind girl he had known growing up. You were tougher, harder, colder and he didn’t want to admit it, but you had grown to be like him.

“Is that the sort of witty comment you picked up during your night shifts?” he asked sarcastically. “Or are you really just that quick on your feet?”

You stepped closer to him, looking up to search his eyes. “Wanna find out?”

Jason felt a smirk pull at his lips. Whatever version he had of you, it was gone, and it was replaced with someone else. As much as that was disappointing, he was intrigued to see this new side of you. “Yes,” he said under his breath.

You frowned, looking for any tells if he was lying—but you found none, and perhaps that was even more frustrating. That he still wanted to be with you—in any form, even when you were like this. “I’m busy this week. Maybe you can book me for some other time?” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice dropping, eyes growing darker. “What are your rates?”

“Expensive,” you said, voice hard but tinged with subtle want. “Think you can handle me, Jay?”

Jason’s smirk widened into a devilish grin. “I can handle anything you give me. Can you handle me, sweetheart?”

You kept your mouth shut, trying to figure out what he was playing. Seeing your hesitation, he lowered his head and put his mouth to your ear. “Friday, 9pm.”

You blinked in surprise, looking at Jason’s smug face as he pulled back. “You’re booking me? Actually?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, smiling that same smile that made you want to punch it off his face and kiss him at the same time. He was still Jason, your Jason. “I’m assuming you’re the most popular girl in the club.”

“Bold of you to assume that,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“So, am I correct?” he asked, pressing his body into yours. The air was tense between you, thick with the promise of something more. Jason didn’t know what that something was, exactly. But his heart was telling him that he wanted to find out.

“I don’t remember you ever caring to ask if you were,” you said, narrowing your eyes, challenging him.

“Careful now,” Jason said, leaning down to bring his face closer to yours. “You’re going to start something with comments like that.”

Jason enjoyed this banter—he had missed it so much. He loved teasing you, knowing you would bite back every single time. He hadn’t felt so alive in a long time—and perhaps because it was game, a dangerous one. And who was he to deny himself of a little danger? You were a loaded gun, and he knew how to pull a trigger.

“Me? Careful?” you said, looking into his eyes as you leaned closer to him—his lips. “Maybe you shouldn’t have provoked me.”

“That comment right there,” he said with a smirk, “is exactly why I need more time with you, y/n.”

He let go of your hand and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. “I missed this side of you sweetheart,” he breathed, his eyes glancing down into your eyes—lips.

You searched his eyes, letting the moment simmer, letting the club disappear until it was only the two of you. “I missed you,” you whispered.

Jason caressed your sides with his thumbs in slow comforting circles, as he thought of another million things he wanted to do to you, right here, right now. None of it was holy, none of it was what you would do to your childhood best friend. But you were so goddamn tempting. He licked his lips, his gaze never wavering from yours. But he didn’t want to rush this, for god sakes he just saw you for the first time in fucking years—but there was something that still hasn’t changed for him. You were still his home.

Jason opened his mouth to say something but was caught off as someone called out for you again breaking the moment. You stepped away from him, the trance forgotten.

“I’ve got to go back to work,” you said apologetically.

Jason narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to you again, crossing that space. “You’re just going to leave me like that?”

He leaned down again, his head lowering to the crook of your neck. “What kind of woman does something like that, y/n?”

You smirked as you stepped back again, creating that push-and-pull dynamic that drove Jason foolish. “A woman who keeps you wanting more,” you smirked, as you turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

Jason watched you leave, sticking his hands in his pockets. You were still an angel to him no matter how far you’ve fallen and no matter how many more times you will. He was going to get you out of this hell because angels didn’t belong here. He was going to save you this time because you had saved him every day of his damned life.

#jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x f!reader #red hood x f!reader #angst #light angst #oneshot #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd fanfiction #batman #dc batman #dc comics #batboys #batfamily #childhood friends #friends to lovers #Spotify

[thebreakfastgenie]

The Burma Shave Signs

In order to understand the significance of the Burma Shave signs, we need to understand Hawkeye's emotional state when he returns to the 4077th. The jeep driver is chatty, and Hawkeye basically ignores him. He tells Sidney he's uneasy about going back, which makes perfect sense; who would want to go back to a MASH unit close to the front? Besides, we know he's anxious about performing surgery again. But Hawkeye has another reason, too.

He's anxious about not being accepted back by his friends and colleagues. This, too, is a perfectly reasonable fear; the contact he's had with them since being hospitalized has been awkward and uncomfortable at best. Potter, Mulcahy, Margaret, and BJ were all more or less disastrous on the phone, and even Klinger, who handled it better than the rest, didn't get a joyful reaction out of Hawkeye. Then BJ visited him in person, and that went even worse. Hawkeye is very understandably afraid that everyone is going to look at him differently, a fear that's proven largely correct. It's uncomfortable knowing the people you're close to have seen you at your worst, and that happened to him very recently. His breakdown and involuntary hospitalization were very public.

There is also the nature of his breakdown to consider. He made a scene in O.R. and very nearly harmed a patient, then drove a vehicle through a building. People at the 4077th who witnessed that might be afraid of him now. They might be angry with him, too, because he destroyed the Officers' Club, which was one of the few places they had to socialize and relax.

So all of this is going through Hawkeye's mind while this enlisted man who doesn't particularly seem to care is trying to make small talk. And then he sees the message:

HAWK WAS GONE NOW HE'S HERE DANCE 'TIL DAWN AND GIVE A CHEER Burma Shave

The driver reads them and clearly thinks they're nice. And Hawkeye, Hawkeye smiles.

This is one of the first times we see him smile in this entire episode, apart from the flashbacks. He smiles when he thinks he's going home, and then here. This one is different. It's soft and understated--not a manic grin--and very genuine.

He smiles because for all his fear and worry and anxiety about going back, he's just been given a welcome back. Not just any welcome, either, it's personalized. It rhymes. It's a pop culture reference. It's joyful. It's thoroughly Hawkeye. I think the red paint is most likely a reference to the color scheme on classic Burma Shave signs, but if you want to add an extra layer, you can consider it a callback to the red party. It's a nice touch, too, that there is no reference to them later, so we never find out who was responsible for them. It emphasizes, as the goodbye dinner scene does, that the entire camp is close, not just the characters we usually focus on.

The message here is We're glad you're back. We missed you. We love you. There is no promise it won't be awkward, but there is a clear, unwavering acceptance, which is exactly what Hawkeye needs.

And then this happens:

Of course Hawkeye can't have nice things, but it's more than that. As I've just established, the signs are a symbol of the love Hawkeye's friends have for him. We know what the bus symbolizes. It's all throughout the first hour. "A bus, huh?" "Again with the bus? Why don't you subscribe to Arizona Highways and leave me alone?"

The bus is what happened. The bus is the trauma. The bus is the horrors of war. The bus is why Hawkeye had an ugly public breakdown and was committed to a hospital in the first place. The bus comes up from behind.

In this scene, his friends' love for him is flattened by his trauma, which has followed him all the way back to the 4077th.

I've never quite been able to figure out if it is indeed the same bus that Hawkeye finally boards after that shot where he hesitates and looks about a million years old, but this bus was approaching the 4077th for triage.

Potter says "Why don't you start on the bus?" the same thing Sidney asked him to do. He can't escape the bus. It follows him; he gets back on it. Because the war still isn't over.

The message on the Burma Shave signs still matters. He still got to read it. He still knows how they feel. And we him socialize among them and be loved and accepted, even as we also see him hanging back. The bus doesn't permanently destroy all hope, it just shocks him by barging in on a happier moment. We see throughout the second hour that though he's been released from the hospital, Hawkeye is still recovering, and the bus is a reminder of that. It's just an absolute gut punch of a moment to see it destroy those welcome signs.

Maybe it's not just about Hawkeye, either. If the bus is the war, maybe it's a reminder that any moment of joy or niceness will be interrupted by the war reasserting its iron grip on everyone's attention. Like all the way back in Bulletin Board, or the end of Movie Tonight, or Dear Sis. You can have nice things in a war, but only for a moment. But unlike in those other episodes, by the end of this one the war is actually over.

#i need everyone to be as insane about these as i am #this is nothing i haven't said before but i made it nicer #mash #m*a*s*h #hawkeye pierce #mashposting #original mash content

[poorlydrawndirk]

We're on air.

More precisely, I was on air when I recorded this, but the details are largely irrelevant. Because I don't really feel like covering fuckin' introductory quantum mechanics and telling you exactly how the influence of the Skaian universe, when applied at the quark level and taken alongside the probabilistic effect of quantum behavior, superposes via particle states and results in the formation of what you might refer to as "overlapping timelines". And that's already getting real abecedarian about this shit.

Yeah, sue me. Try boning up on basic physics while you're at it.

So. I'm sure you'd love to hear about how I managed to rig this sick as hell channel-cum-blog up and get it to straddle the space-time continuum like an antediluvian Olympic gymnast doing mad splits over baby's first toy pony, but that ain't the point of this little exercise. Posting what's effectively a vlog is enough of an onanistic venture without adding Skaian Principles For Dummies: Electric Boogaloo to the schedule.

Where was I?

(Rhetorical question. Don't answer, if it needed to be said.)

The name's Dirk.

Strider. Yeah, that Strider.

I'd be more worried about internet safety, but seeing as there are only up to two people alive around here no matter how far you pull my timeline back, and I'm one of 'em, it doesn't exactly compute. Face it, brosephine: you aren't getting to year 24xx post-hilarocaust, and you sure aren't getting past that. Wasn't shat out of a lab yet when you were committing identity theft and scamming doddering old ladies out of their sadsack pensions.

(If you manage to get pizza delivered out here, I'll tip extra.)

Besides, you already knew my name, didn't you?

Maybe your next question's going to be:

"Why are you calling this a vlog when it's obviously just a blog?"

Or maybe,

"Why is your URL poorlydrawndirk when it's totally malapropos?"

Buckle in, kids. Strap yourself into that convertible toddler-safe harness and keep your ass glued tight to all the prime polyester-lined foam, because this ride's about to pull into the station and vehicular standards are some passé 21st century horseshit.

The first thing you have to understand is that even peering upon the brink of these echelons of irony is a skill that you'll never grasp in your life. But that's fine. I'm around. And if it puts your mind at ease,

I'll be the one pulling the strings here.

(There's the tired callback. It's not wrong, but it's tired. Worn out enough for it to be begging you to take it out back behind the shed and put it out of its misery.)

(I'll leave it at that for now, because self-referencing is one thing, but if I get any more meta, I'll have to start narrating in twelve-point Times New Roman.)

Anyway, I'll be breaking it down, just this once. Magnanimous as hell, I know. I could wax poetic and in doing so obfuscate the actual meaning once more from obtuse minds, thereby adding another strata to irony so layered that it's settled past sedimentary and is ready to unearth some fossil formations, but let's be real. That shit would fly over your head so far it'd be trying to dial ground control at Houston.

Here we go.

Vlogs aren't cool; making one ironically is.

Putting in this much effort into making a multiversal vlog makes it cooler, ironically.

Putting in this much effort to make a multiversal vlog when the doomed timelines are all inherently fuckin' doomed, as the name implies, and therefore functionally useless to communicate with, makes it more ironic.

I have Heart powers and am able to achieve my ultimate self through my alpha timeline. Therefore, not only is this pimped-out vlog functionally useless, but I actually don't need it at all.

Which means this wasn't too hard to set up to begin with. Ironic, considering the complex presupposed conditions necessary for bridging that 'verse gap.

And despite framing this as a vlog, this is obviously a blog.

Even though it's just a blog, all these drawings I've made had you convinced that I really thought I was posting a vlog.

And in a way, I'm still making one. It ain't the traditional format, but the almost videographic mannerisms I've been laying on you more than compensate for the fact that the video part of "vlog" doesn't exist.

Except it does, for me.

And because it does, none of these pictures are drawn to begin with. They're all film stills. Screenshots, if you prefer.

Which makes the qualifier of "poorly drawn" untrue.

But it's also almost true, because you can call them poorly drawn by virtue of them not even being drawn. Ride that definition of "poorly" down the one-way rail and you're here, selfie central, population two, me and you.

Of course, that means we have to cover the quandary of truth itself. What constitutes the truth? Titillate that thought for a second.

If I consider the attached files to be selfies, but you consider them to be illustrations, which is it actually?

An analysis of the "truth" means that we have to start delineating how much of this is subjective, tying us in bed with the concept of knowledge. The Socratic take calls for dialectical conversation and inquiry via questioning; therefore, if I just bequeath my knowledge to you on a pretty little metaphorical platter, it won't mean fuckall. So we have to keep digging. Get your pickaxe ready, 'cause we ain't hitting any diamonds of wisdom any time soon.

In fact, maybe that ain't the right direction. Flip it turnways. We gotta climb a li'l higher for what we need.

Maybe we gotta head to the roof.

now. brought cal.

where making this HAPEN.

Haha.

Just fuckin' with you.

Welcome to my blog, dude.

Want water? Imagine I got you a nice, chilled glass.

Let's get this parasocial relationship pumping.

Questions? Concerns? Misguided pseudo-parental queries about whether or not it's safe for your pipsqueak to be exposed to a full dose of radically Stridered bullshit?

Cool.

Make it all three and drop it in the asks, yeah?

#Dirk Strider #Homestuck #Homestuck Fanart #Bro Strider #Ask Blog #(( #No set timeline! primarily dirk but occasionally other splinters. yeah that includes scratch because why not. it sounds funny. #not a kinnie not a fictive! just a guy with a little bit of time and some bad ideas. #please note that it took dirk approximately five hours in the video to get ready. thank you. #yes the intro is one very lengthy quasi-shitpost. I was going to cover sincerity and the socratic dialogues even more #except it was already really long. lol. anyway I don't have 3 hours to write a more detailed explanation of all the layers of irony but #'trust me bro' #this is a regular askblog despite being named like one of the 'badlydrawn' ones. #im not gonna write long ass monologues at everything i just thought it'd be funny here #i'll spice up the actual blog layout later. for now - hope you enjoyed! #Also - runs not daily prob closer to weekly))

[moongothic]

Obligatory "This was a DIY-blog before a fandom blog and so if I wanna post my projects on here THEN I WILL AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME"-disclaimer

New blanket who dis

Another project that started out as an attempt for me to clear out yarn from my mom's stash, this time being some black Tynn Line from Sadnesgarn. There was a decent amount of it, and I didn't know what to do with it. Didn't want to work in just black, so I bought some of the orange yarn (while also doublechecking this was in fact Tynn Line like I suspected, because I wasn't 100% sure)

And I mindlessly started crocheting some basic granny squares.

Originally I figured I could maybe make a granny square cardigan, but once I got going I soon realized I probably had far more yarn than a cardigan would need (this was in fact a false estimate on my part because I am stupid), and I figured, if I had the yarn for it, then why not just make a blanket for myself instead

Now we all know and love the Blanket of Darkness I shared like a year ago, and let me tell you, I love that thing to death, it's a fantastic blanket and it has kept me so warm this whole winter. That said, while that blanket is fantastic in the middle of the winter, I did find myself kind of struggling during the fall and spring, when like. It's just slightly cold enough that I wanted an extra layer, but the thick, pure wool of that blanket was actually a bit too warm.

So when I realized I could make myself a thinner blanket, like, yeah, I wanted to take that. The Tynn Line is 53% cotton, 33 viskoce and 14% linen, and it's a thinner yarn, I used a 3 mm hook for the project. A perfect yarn for me to use for a fall/spring blanket.

And so I ended up committing to it, got more yarn so I'd have enough for a small blanket, and got to work. I think I started working on this around November 2023? Maybe December? Can't remember, foolishly I did not write down when I started working on it.

Now originally I was going to make this a striped blanket, but as I was going along, making those squares I started to rethink that plan a little

I also considdered attaching the smaller squares together to make bigger squares, but after asking friends for a second opinion we all agreed the middle design would actually look the coolest

Not that it mattered too much, I had to first finish the granny squares before I'd actually start putting the blanket together

But eventually I finished the squares. Each square is a little over 8x8 cm so the 10x18 square blanket needed 180 squares.

Now I have my personal preferred way to attaching granny squares, which is zigzagging down from one corner of the blanket to the opposite corner. But I wanted the blanket to look somewhat seamless, and I knew I wouldn't be able to do that if I just started attaching them one by one. So I decided to start by attaching all the squares into 1x3 square strips (as seen on the chart), and once the strips were done, do my usual corner-to-corner zigzag with the strips. This way I was able to attach the orange squares together with the orange yarn so the orange strips looked more solid, while the rest I could do with the black yarn.

Also I found out I had made four granny squares too many, lmao

But it was fine, actually. Because I did then proceed to finish the blanket, only to realize... It just felt too small. I just wasn't happy with the size. Like the blanket was fine if I wanted to wear it on my lap when sitting or something, but I wanted to throw this thing onto my bed to keep me warm, and the coverage wasn't going to be enough for that.

So as much as it pained me. I ordered four more balls of yarn. And made 68 more squares (those four spare orange squares did not go to waste lmao)

So the total went up to 252 granny squares as I extended the side by two rows and the lenght by one pattern repeat.

But yeah. Made those granny squares. Weaved in the tails as I went along and turned the granny squares into strips too while I was at it. And once done, finally added the extension to the blanket. Finished it off by adding a single row of double crochet around the edge. Badabing badaboom we got a blanket.

Now the blanket does have two sides to it, a good and a bad, because I was lazy and chose to crochet the squares together instead of sewing them with a needle. Had I done it with a needle it would've looked better without a doubt, but god damn, I did not have the patience, not this time.

So the backside looks better than the actual front, and that's fine by me

In anycase, I'm glad I finished this project, it turned out super cute, and now I have a perfect blanket to keep me slightly warmer as the weather changes ✌️✨

#Moon posting #Yarncraft Diary #Crochet #Crochetblr #Yarnblr #Oh and at the end I have like 15 grams of both the orange and black yarns (each ball was 50 grams) #And this took like 7 balls of the orange #Since I used the scraps from my mom I don't know how much black yarn I actually used/needed but definitely more #Since I used it to put the whole thing together in the end #But yeah. I'm so happy with how this blanket turned out. Even my cat had to give it a test ride the second I threw it onto my bed completed

[entering--hyperspace]

Bg3 Tav: Págos

(Com by SandPontiff on twit)

Pagos is a relic of a history long forgotten, the sacrifice he made afflicted him with a curse: to be frozen in time as the world marched on around him. After being unearthed by an Illithid ship, and cast into the sword coast, the parasite burrowed in his head threatens any chance of him recovering who or what he is... now wrestles with both an unfamiliar world, and the memories he lost...

Ill give the spark notes vers of him:

Name: Págos

Age:??? (300)

Race: White Dragon (Shapechanged: Dragonborn)

Gender: Male (He/him)

Class: Oathbreaker Paladin

Origin: Icewind Dale (-3,348 DR)

A long, long time ago, Págos was born Faestir, a white dragon loyal to his mother, Ayrthik and the clans that served under her. By the time of his hatching, however, Ayrthik had grown resentful of the mortal races and their continued settlement across Faerûn, and begun territorial battles to conquer settlements and cities further south of the artic north.

Faestir fought in her wars, loyal to her cause hoping to curry favor, even going so far as to take up the magic-binding oath alongside her prized commanders to prove his commitment. As the centuries passed, however, the constant death of the clans around him, the razing of villages, and blind loyalty slowly chipped away at him. On the eve of a most decisive battle, Págos broke his oath, and turned her army away from the city they were prepared to overtake. In doing so, however, woke the curse she had sealed on all those who swore their lives to her. If they would not fight for her, neither would they stand against her. They were to be left out, frozen by her ice, burried under snow and mountains.

This was his reality for a while, and when he was bumped into by the illithid ship and taken in, he was kinda...unthawed. He doesnt remember too much from his past, but rather a slideshow of details. He had often taken the shape of a dragonborn to make interactions with the clans easier, and it is the form he was in the moment he broke his oath. Because of this, he just assumes thats all he is because he cannot remember otherwise.

Personality/ Insight:

Págos, as a soldier and the son to Ayrthik was held to a high standard. He was not allowed, to be deterred by the emotions that plagued the mortal races, nor was he allowed to show mercy. Ayrthik believed dragons to be above everyone else, so too must he.

If págos knows anything, it is survival. He acts quickly and responds well to authority, be it his own or another's. He values facts and holds such confidence in his beliefs he chooses to judge individuals based on action than history.

Continuing this, both due to the fact he is a dragon and lived his life as a soldier, he sees the world in harsh white and black, but not based on morality, rather, was simply HE deems to make sense. Arrogant in a way, but what dragons arent just a bit.

Speaking of, págos may not remember he's a dragom but it does not stop him from being one. It defines his relationships it defines the subtle, strange movements, the way he interprets emotion and relationships. But it adds an extra layer to him not remembering this fact about himself that causes to feel uneasy and out of place without the knowledge to understand why.

Anyway

Now, after escaping his fate and thrust into a different world, págos is stumbling blind. He is essentially learning what it means to be a person. For his entire life he was a toy soldier, static and unwavering, cold and detached, and while some of that still remains, its the ability to grant mercy, to show and recieve kindness that makes up his new experiences. He comes off as a little off-putting in a strangely detached way, but the more time he spends around the companions the more he adjusts, hes a bit emotionally repressed so it takes time for him to process some of the interactions, but still retains this kind of patience of a saint attitude about him that resonates with some of them (like shadowheart, who warms up to him rather quickly despite him being a little odd.)

But he tries, and he leans towards being this sort of gentle guiding figure, because so much of him is trying to figure out who he wants to be, which also causes him to be a rock for those around him. What he is sure of he holds on to, and, at least now, when given the choice in this new life of his, he chooses to be kind, he chooses to be understanding, he chooses to be something he wasnt allowed to be.

I have a lot of different things I could talk about and answer buuuuut for now heres just the base lore. Ik hes a lil lame but I like him, he eventually does learn hes a dragon and has an entire Thing about that (late act 3) and ends up forming very interesting dynamics with a few of the perty members.....ngl ill probably be dropping my literal fucking essay about him and the emperor bc thats an Entire Thing.

#bg3 tav #pagos

[mortiskiller]

First Time, but Not The Last Time

A short story about the first time a feedist couple tries funnel feeding. Proofread and approved by @ihatemakingusernames.

I could feel the energy in the room—it was a mix of nervous lust and heart-pounding fear. My heart was racing, tight in my chest; I could only imagine yours was as well. My legs bounced slightly, and my ass wiggled back and forth as I heard you whistling in the kitchen. You told me to sit down and wait until you came back. In those minutes, I heard bags opening, jugs cracking open, and liquid pouring, and it all made me so aroused. Tonight, we took the next step in our relationship. Tonight, you said we are going past the point of no return; after this, we would be closer than ever. Tonight, you were going to funnel-feed me.

As I sat there, my body exposed and vulnerable, I couldn't help but admire how massive I had become. Naked on the couch, with my enormous stomach protruding out in front of me, I could barely fit on it anymore. My belly was so large it hung between my legs like a giant boulder, weighing down on me with its sheer size. Every inch of me was soft and jiggly from all the excess fat that had accumulated over the years. My stretch marks spanned across my flesh like a roadmap, a testament to the journey that brought me to this point. Behind me, my ass overflowed the cushions, bouncing up and down as I jiggled. Whenever I moved, it felt like a small earthquake had just struck, all my excess fat quivering with the movement. I looked down at my body and felt in awe of how it had changed over the years. It was almost a miracle, how my ass and chest had become so enormous, and I couldn't help but be filled with love for the person that transformed me into this.

As I waited for you to come back, the nerves and energy were building up inside me. It felt like a caged animal kicking and screaming to be set free. Finally, I heard you coming back from the kitchen and craned my neck to see. Voluptuous as ever, you padded across the hardwood, a gallon pitcher of light brown shake in one hand and a funnel mask dangling from the other. I knew you enjoyed this part—the way you threw your hips out more than usual, your eyes smoldering with deep lust as you saw all 500 pounds of me relaxed on the couch. We had no need for words; our relationship was well past that. You placed the pitcher down on the coffee table and proceeded to strap the mask to my face.

The funnel mask went around my head like a soft blanket, wrapping itself around each of my cheeks and encircling the back of my neck. The rubber mouthpiece was cool against my lips as it was carefully secured in its place. I could feel the straps pulling tight against my face, but not uncomfortably so. With each movement I made, the mask would follow, like an extra layer of skin protecting me from anything that may come. Despite the anticipation and trepidation that had built up inside me, I felt surprisingly calm and safe with this extra layer around me now. It felt like a protective cocoon that nothing could penetrate, no matter how hard I tried. In the darkness behind the funnel's frame, I saw your eyes staring at me, and I knew that you were as committed to this process as I was. Your hand traced a line down my cheeks, growing chest, bulging heavy belly, and ended with a firm grip on my thigh. We decided since I could not speak with the mask on, our safe word would be gripping your thigh.I felt your hand relax on my thigh, and I followed your hand as it grabbed the pitcher. Every second of movement was in slow motion; it was happening—I was going to be funnel-fed like a massive lardass.

Your arm strained slightly holding the pitcher as it reached the rim of the funnel. You waited. My eyes were locked on the lip as it hovered just a millimeter away from dumping thousands of calories down my throat. A smile crossed your face, gentle and glowing, savoring this moment—another milestone in our relationship as feedists, piggies first taste of how you plan to grow them past 600, past 700. With one quick motion, you tipped the pitcher, and I watched as the thick creamy shake cascaded down the funnel.

The first few gulps were a struggle until I matched your pace and opened my throat. I barely needed to swallow as the pressure of the liquid poured down my throat. Rich chocolate coated my mouth as the thick and heavy shake streamed down my stomach. My stomach roared at me, stretching and screaming to push any food back out before it had a chance to settle in. I took quick breaths in between the gulps to make sure I had enough wind to continue. The thick shake was filling me up quickly and stretching my stomach to its limits; I could feel every inch of me expand painfully as every mouthful was stuffed inside of me. I could feel my body give in, the fatigue and heaviness set in as I struggled to gulp down the shake. Every swallow felt like a battle inside my stomach, but fuck that, I needed to consume it all—my pure sexual desire to be as full as possible and grow for you helped me push past any discomfort. I could feel it pooling in my belly, stretching it out, making it even larger.

After all 500 lbs of me had been funneled, for several minutes, I just sat there motionless, all of me growing and stretching with the shake. I heard you walk over and heard the sink turn on, the sound of you washing the pitcher and funnel out. I could feel the cool air rush down my throat. My head was reeling from the thick shake, but I felt the pressure in my stomach decrease as I felt your hand trace down my leg. My head was now spinning; I had never been this full of food before. My skin was tingling from the soft tug of gravity pulling me further and further into myself. My mind was foggy, but I could still feel your hand rubbing my thigh and digging under my gut. I could feel your arms strain to lift my gut as I moaned and burped. Your hands reached the fat-padded mass that was my genitals, and we both sighed as you gently massaged it.

My breathing was heavy and labored, but in that moment, I felt nothing but ecstasy. The combination of fullness, pleasure, and being accepted for who I am transformed me into a new person. My body was still growing and expanding with the food inside me; it felt like the shake was settling and filling every crack in my stomach. Your hands moved back up to my chest, tracing circles around my belly button before curling around the back of my neck and pulling yourself into me. There we stayed motionless for what seemed like hours until finally, your lips touched mine, signaling that it was time to break out of our trance and begin our journey together as feedists.

#fat #feedist audio #male feedee #female feeder #female feedee #male feeder #ffa #fa #weight gain #feederism kink #belly play #fat belly #hi babe #choclate or strawberry base for your funnel feeding?

[skull001]

Some interactions I'd love to see more of with Amy:

1.- Amy and Knuckles. I like how it breaks stereotypes by having the strongest and manliest member of the team feeling comfortable enough to talk and share with Amy about the things he would never with the likes of Sonic or Rouge.

Knuckles displaying his more vulnerable side in the confidence and safety that only Amy provides adds an extra layer of dimension that humanizes his character, and further emphasizes Amy's role as the heart of the team and how she can be Knuckle's best and closest friend, giving both characters a dynamic of their own that is interesting to see and which could give Sonic and Tails a run for their money, especially with how charming it is to see Amy, the girl many assume would be the one in need of being protected, actually being the one who fiercely defends Knuckles against anyone who tries to take advantage of his noble disposition and honest character.

2.- Amy and Blaze. The thing that appeals to me with these two girls is how their personalities both contrast and complement each other's: Amy's the bubbly, easy-going and optimist, while Blaze is serious, no-nonsense and realist. Yet despite this, both share common ground in their desire to protect those they care for the most in their own unique ways. Amy is warm, almost motherly while Blaze (ironically, given her fire powers) can be cold and blunt, like the snow that covers the grass in winter, protecting it from the harsh wind outside. Amy can admire Blaze and learn from her to become a stronger heroine, while Blaze learns from Amy how to be more in touch with her own heart, as well as to enjoy the small things that makes life enjoyable. If Amy ever needed a big sister figure, Blaze would be the ideal choice. (Rouge is more like that crazy aunt who commits crimes, lol)

3.- Amy and Metal Sonic. These two have a history so to speak, as both debuted at the same time and how without Metal's kidnapping, Sonic would had never rescued Amy and in doing do, steal her heart.

The thing here is that, Metal Sonic is evil to the core of his programming and never once has done anything that resembles a spark of goodness in him for Amy to latch onto... However, there is yet another way for Amy to become invested in Metal Sonic: have her find him utterly defeated and in a very pathetic state. This was done by Tyson Hesse in the 6th episode of Sonic Mania Adventures, where Amy felt sorry for the abandoned robot. I would very much would like to see a similar premise, but expanded and developed further by having Metal Sonic start to question the nature of his actions after being a victim of Amy's kindness, becoming curious about what motivates this girl who is his enemy, help him... and in doing so, he starts to learn from Amy a sense of not only morality, but also freedom. That he is what he is because he was never given a choice.

4.- Amy and Shadow. I always thought there is something sad about how quickly the ball was dropped with these two, given that Amy played a very big and important part in Shadow not only remembering the true purpose for which he was created, but also how Amy's words made him UNDERSTAND Maria's wish and why no one has the right to deny humanity it's existance and why it was worth believing in people who despite their flaws, try their best to do the right thing.

I think Amy has the maturity and tact to approach Shadow, understanding that unlike the others, he still is very reluctant to open up to bonding with people whom he knows he is destined to outlive. She would give him his space, while also reminding him that he is not alone, and that even if he will continue to live after sll of thrm had their time in the world, he shouldn't close his heart, because the connections and bonds one makes in their lifetime are the things that make the world worth of not only protecting, but also of living.

#Amy Rose #Knuckles the Echidna #Blaze the cat #Metal Sonic #Shadow the Hedgehog

[minquiec]

A character analysis of a character that doesn't even actually exist besides the boundaries of my own brain

Another essay in which I go completely unhealthily insane about my own character. Once again unchecked, unproofreaded, un-everythinged

Jia is a character who I tried to put layers into, or as much as I have really tried because my brain is far too smooth to come up with well written complex characters. Seeing as I've never actually introduced her personality or lore, I'll occasionally give overviews to give certain contexts. While she still isn't fully fleshed out, I'll just be regurgitating things I've pulled from my brain because it's one am and I need to release this pent up energy somehow.

A core theme of Jia's character is uncertainty. This ranges from parts of her personality to her backstory and her journey as 'Spider Girl'.

backstory

Let's discuss her backstory first briefly. Jia was born outside of China and grew up in various places. As a child, her family was constantly on the move for mostly work reasons from her parents. Her parents themselves weren't bad parents but weren't the kind of people that were meant for raising children. Both of her parents worked as scientists that travelled often for research purposes and while they loved Jia, their love for their work was far greater. Their dreams were far greater than Jia. Being raised in such instability both in terms of location and emotional connection, would inevitably lead to her developing issues with her communication on an emotional level which would then prove to be a problem that contributes to her uncertainty as 'Spider Girl' and her 'not so canon event'.

personality + attitude

The uncertainty within Jia's personality is buried underneath her other qualities. Not in the sense where she's creating a fake personality but she has just pushed it aside to quite literally not think about it. The most literal example of this is her split soul concept. Her dwelling uncertainty of her role and her future as 'Spider Girl' has literally brought a manifestation and caused a split within herself. Unconsciously, Jia had developed a fear for uncertainty which led her habit of often just not thinking about it instead. The uncertainty of her future was increased tenfold when she became 'Spider Girl' which was what caused her to become so hesitant to wholeheartedly accept her role and responsibility. As far as Jia is aware, she only knows she doesn't feel the will to fully commit to her duties as a hero but doesn't know what the cause of this reluctance is leading to guilt because she's aware that 'with power comes responsibility'. This inner turmoil was the main drive of her soul splitting as she very reluctantly took her role as 'Spider Girl' without addressing her issues with it.

Her hesitancy with her duties is subconsciously reflected in her actions and attitudes. For example her 'title' is Spider Girl, whereas most others have deviated from the name spiderman or spidergirl she half heartedly just went with whatever was practical. While the title is technically what she is, it doesn't really reflect her as a person. It was just something to fill in the gaps with no thought attached to it. Another example is her mask. Jia often prefers to have her mask off, primarily because there is this running joke of others calling her an orange because of her suit design. Another reason she insists is that it's suffocating underneath the mask both in a literal sense and a figurative sense as she wears the mask to be someone she doesn't want.

Majority of the time, Jia would be portrayed as this somewhat unserious but easy going character to others. She's relatively friendly and gets along well with most. What she keeps beneath her other qualities is her pessimistic leaning and 'realistic' outlook. Jia tends to take extra contexts and factors into perspective and would take the most realistic approach to things because that's the safest course of action, no matter how much it doesn't sit well with her heart.

Even Jia's location has links to uncertainty. Like I had said earlier, Jia was not born in China and since her parents had always been busy her connection with her nationality has always been a little strained. Being suddenly dumped to live with your grandma in a land you hardly know is bound to lead to uncertainty and ironically she ends up feeling disconnected to the very place she's supposed to protect.

extra

In a way, Jia's character is a metaphor for growing up. Her story can almost be interpreted as a coming of age plot where she, a 19 year old girl, is put through the motions of life while she's left to deal with the uncertainty of the future. Suddenly she must carry a responsibility that she doesn't know how to handle and is unable to let anyone else know, both in a 'This is my secret identity' way and in a 'I'm emotionally constipated because I don't know how to communicate' way. Instead of healthily regulating her thoughts and emotions on the matter, she mentally blocks it away to focus on the much nicer things in life. In this sense, she could almost be seen as selfish or childish as she tries to almost cling onto the last remaining time of having a '-teen' in her age. This is reflected in her hairstyle choice, seeing that hair like hers are often associated with younger children, albeit she does this unintentionally/subconsciously.

Despite all, Jia still persists. Despite her being so uncertain on just about everything, she wholeheartedly believes that the city she lives in is something worth protecting. Despite her disconnectedness to her homeland, she loves it all the same within the two years of living there. There is still that 'spiderman' goodness within her that drives her to do what's right to protect her city as much as it drives her nuts, basing off the logic of "if I don't do it, then who will?".

why jia fell for hobie

In a sense, Hobie saves her. To Jia, Hobie is someone who she never knew she would interact with, nevermind become attached to. They are different in so many ways that she never would've guessed they could even talk. However this perspective was only because she grew up in the typical society of norms and labelling of who's who. His views are so drastically different to what she is used to but she feels almost an affinity for the values behind them. Through their time of being together, his way of doing things influences her in many ways. His own commitment to his beliefs essentially acted as a foundation for her to begin solidifying her own decisiveness on her actions both as a person and being a spiderperson. More importantly, it's the way he's against rules and systems. While Jia isn't a stickler for rules, her outlook on life is realistic like I said before. Jia knows that they are from different universes and that realistically, they can never have their ending together. However, for obvious reasons, he doesn't give a damn for what is or isn't possible. His 'organized chaos' brings almost a solace in Jia as she can rely on him to stay true to himself.

their relationship in more detail

Jia is romantically constipated as hell. That's pretty much her in a nutshell. Growing up with semi absent parents will make it hard for you to ask or communicate. Miraculously, platonic friendships are totally fine for her but every becomes awkward for her on a romantic scale. During their friendship arc, Jia found herself finding much comfort in his presence because he was always so easy to talk to. She knew at one point that she liked him but nearly cast it aside because she knew she could never have the courage to do anything about it. In fact just thinking about how she would have to probably ask him out officially and confess made her shrivel at the idea. Or that's what the 'normal' way of asking out was. Luckily for her, he doesn't follow. He never made it a special occasion or anything and it was completely on an ordinary hangout between themselves where he just dropped a 'I like you' which made her brain explode but she appreciated it so much afterwards that he never made a big deal out of it all.

If she was in a relationship with anyone else, her s/o most likely would've become highly frustrated with Jia as she's not one to initiate dates, affection, gifts or any of the traditional romantic gestures because she's just so out of touch with what to do. Hobie has no expectations for such and much prefers spending time together without it needing a special reason. The affections and actions are much more mundane between them to a point where it's not meant to show others but more towards simply being comfortable with each other. It's the simple things that matter more for them like the feeling of warm skin to remind themselves that they are alive after a bad patrol or quick kiss pressed to the cheek for no reason other than the emotion threatening to spill in their chest when they look at the other.

why he ended up liking her

This is all mostly based on my own headcanon of him where he has a preference for simplicity because of the chaos in his universe. Jia is a simple girl. She's the kind of person who really enjoys the simple things in life as a way to forget about her uncertainty. If she was a colour she'd be a pale light yellow, someone who's vaguely joyful and bright but not in a straining way. Besides the bare minimums of being a good person, Jia is a really good listener. While he doesn't essentially force his views on anyone (literally defeats his purpose), he does offer his opinion on a lot of things in a straightforward manner. Jia always listens wholeheartedly and engages actively instead of just brushing him off. While she doesn't completely turn her life upside down to follow him in his ideals because y'know it's hard to change a lifestyle you've lived all your life, she does take small things into consideration in her life after hearing him talk or tagging along for things that he believes is important. It's something he appreciates about her for. He finds himself at ease around Jia and even more so in private where he sticks so, so close to her. I wholeheartedly believe he is a gentle guy but not the traditional sense where he's all smiles or something you usually associate with that but in a way where affections are nearly always soft and meaningful. Prior to Jia, his lifestyle never exactly allowed this kind of mundane comfort that she brings. The warmth of someone else's skin in his hands is something he seriously loves and often grounds his loud brain. Love languages between them is prominently quality time, physical touch and acts of service. He shows care through actions rather than proclamations. Although soft moments are only reserved for behind doors and mostly occasional as 98% of the time he's this annoyingly infuriating loveable bastard rat of a man.

Why they cannot end up together (until the very end)

While it's not established within the relationship, as the creator I see a 'power' dynamic between them. While Hobie saves Jia, she doesn't save him in the way he does. From the creator's perspective, Jia needs him far more than he needs her in a sense which creates an imbalance. This is why the modern au is their true happy ending where Jia doesn't have to face the heavy burden of her uncertainty and both don't need to bear the responsibility of the world upon their shoulders. In a world where instead of night patrols, nights could be spent for spontaneous midnight snack runs or a world where instead of worrying about how to protect their city and loved ones for another day, all they needed to worry about was grocery lists and folding laundry.

#jipunk #lorerambles

[daddysfangirls-dc]

UnTamed Ch. 1

Next

Gotham is cold. The city was usually cold in the winter, but thanks to Mister Freeze, it was abnormally cold, dangerously cold. Fortunately, the frozen villain had been caught and returned to his personal cell in Arkham. The Gotham Police were working alongside Wayne Enterprise to provide shelter, supplies, and support to those who needed it. The good thing about the cold is that fewer people were out and about to commit crimes. The bad thing is that for those who couldn't find shelter or warmth in time would no doubt be dead by sunrise.

With their thick and heated suit, Robin and Batman were safe from the consequences of this weather. And with that safety paired with the current low crime rate, the Dynamic duo split up. The main priority for tonight was to get as many people off the streets and out of this treacherous weather as fast as possible. 

-

She had been racing all over lower and downtown Gotham for the past few days now. She and her friends had been warned of The Iceman's escape days prior and prepared accordingly. Talking to all her people, the word was spread, and most of her people were off the streets before Elisa's episode, but of course, there were a few who didn't make it, didn't hear, or thought better of themselves. 

Idiots.

Now she was looking about for those people to get them to heated shelters. On the streets, behind dumpsters, in abandoned deplorable buildings. She looked in every cold crack, corner, hole, and barrow Gotham had to offer to ensure no one was lost or left behind. So far, she's directed a few people to the shelters and accompanied more home. She was tired, but the night was still cold, and people were still in need of help.

However, she was tired, so she decided to take a moment and rest, only a moment. Swooping down into an alley, she shifts from a snow owl to a black cat, finding a spot she curled up in the snow. Just a few minutes. Just a few. A little rest. Just a little. Her eyes closed slowly, and her mind faded into another place, just for a little while.

-

The night was coming to an end, and so was patrol. Robin was doing one final round, checking the streets and alleys for anyone they might have missed before he left for the warmth of the manor. He used the feature in his Domino mask to follow heat signatures. Fortunately, the streets were cold and clear. He was about to leave when he found a small heat signature in an alley. Fearing it to be a child, Robin grapled over to the alley. Getting closer, he realized the heat signature was too small to belong to a small human, but he still went to look. A precaution.

Dropping into the alley, Robin found the heat signature to be covered by several layers of snow, leaving a lump. Wiping away the snow, he finds black fur pulling the creature out of the cold. It was a black cat, and it was still alive. 

"Robin, your Position." Robin gave Batman his position. Using his cape, he covered up the feline as the Batmobile pulled up. He hid the cat as he got into the car. Seats preheated. 

"The GCPD will continue patrolling the streets for people and running the shelters. There is nothing else for us to do," Batman said as he took off for the cave. 

-

Returning, Damian managed to sneak his new feline friend into the manor and up to his room without his father noticing. However, Alfred knew judging by the way he looked at him and the fact he brought extra towels and a small bowl of warm milk later on. Nothing got past Alfred. Especially a creature in need.

Damian found out that his new feline friend was female she had yet to wake up yet. Using a towel, he dried her fur he used another to wrap her up snugly and put her in the center of the bed to let her continue sleeping. She hadn't woken up through the whole process. It left Damian a little worried, but he blamed the cold for now. He'd take her to the vet in the morning. 

For now, she slept. 

And he sat down, unable to sleep. He grabbed a sketch pad and pencil, deciding that her fur was beautiful and dark. It needed to be captured and saved. 

-

Waking up warm and dry might have been once to others, but not this kitten. She didn't panic, though this wasn't the first time someone picked her up off the streets. Some meant well, others not so much. She wasn't going to stick around to find out.

Peaking out of the pile of towels she found herself in, she saw herself in a bedroom, a large bedroom. This meant someone with money picked her up, and she had a long way back to Crime Alley. Rolling out of the towels, she looked around it appeared like a normal room with a desk, drawers, a mirror, and a TV completely normal. If one ignores the wall of sharp weapons. She decided she wasn't going to stick around to meet whoever this person was at all. Did not want to know if those were for decoration or not. 

Hopping off of the bed, she quickly made her way to the window. Jumping onto the ledge, thankfully, the window was cracked open. Just as she half squeezed through the window. She was being pulled right back in. And then she was met with the infamous glare of Damian Wayne. 

Damian Wayne, Son of Bruce Wayne, New Prince of Gotham, and Heir to Wayne Enterprise. Gotham's newest rich snob. She began to hiss, wiggle, and scratch; the boy would not let up until they reached the bed again. 

"I mean you no harm," The young boy said, raising his hands in the universal surrender sign. 

She kept hissing and swiping at him, and he resolved to close the window. It shouldn't have been open in this weather anyway. 

"It's too cold to be outside. You'll be safe here," Damian said as he put the bowl of milk on the floor. He stepped back, sitting at his desk as he watched her.

It felt like hours before she crossed the room to the bowl and more before she actually drank from it. By the time she made it, the sun had begun to rise. The two spent all night in a standoff over a bowl of lukewarm milk. Damian commended the little lady on her spirit, staying up all night with him. But she was starting to nod off. The Two hours of sleep she got between the alley and the manor weren't enough to recover from two nights of no sleep. Eventually, she could do it no more and let sleep consume her.

Once again, she woke up in his bed, but this time, she had a collar, and she was covered in soft blankets instead of towels. Oeaking her head out of the blankets, she finds the room empty. Just like last time. She listened for a moment before deciding it was clear. Slowly, she crawls out of the blankets, taking very cautious steps. The sun was low, revealing that she had been out for several hours, and it was now sunset, almost night. She had no idea when the little Prince left or when he'd be back. She had to be quick, and she had to lay low and be cautious. She couldn't get caught.

She had made it onto the desk chair when she heard it. A soft creek that made her ear twitch. Slowly turning her head, she saw Damian Wayne standing at the door with a small bowel in hand. They both froze, staring each other down, each waiting for the other to make a movement.

Silence.

Then she moved. Jumping on the desk, then across to the window, she hits the glass. She forgot that he had closed the window the night before. In a bit of panic, she began to claw at the glass. 

"So you're not as intelligent as I thought," Damian said as he picked her up she scratched him, but he didn't flinch, just held her at arm's length as she scratched and kicked. " You're feisty." he dropped her on the bed once again. 

The sun was gone now, leaving them in the dark aside from the hall light. Damian turned his lamp light on. He moved the small bowl on the floor, milk again. Instead of watching her like the last time he sat at his desk, he pulled out a sketchpad. He ignored her and went about drawing and sketching. She, however, did not ignore him she continued sitting on the bed and watching him.

This only lasted an hour before he got up putting away his sketchpad, he came to the bed. She jumped off the bed as he pulled the sheets back and got into bed she thought it was a bit early but wasn't trying to judge and was going to take the opportunity. She waited until he appeared to be sleeping to make a move.

With him asleep, she changes to a human, her original self. Tip-toeing across the room to the windows, her fingertips barely touching the window seal before something whizzed past her head. She continued to dodge and duck as something else came at her head. She continued to dodge and duck, moving further into the room., It wasn't until her back was to the wall that she noticed that the things being thrown at her were the previous wall decoration, aka his knife collection. 

Holy hell, he was trying to kill her?!

Another whizzed past her head, and with a clank, the lights were turned on, revealing her in the nude, crouched in front of the wall while he stood across from her with his sword in hand. 

 Damian was prepared to cut down this intruder until he saw the collar around her neck. Damian did not appear as shocked as she thought he would be. There was a stunned moment, but he recovered quickly, putting his sword down and throwing a towel at her. She swiped it away. Still crouched, she pulled at the collar. Damian raised his hands in surrender as she lifted her head, giving him permission. As soon as it was unbuckled, she kicked his chest in and leaped at the window. On his back, upside down, Damian watched as she opened the window and jumped out, but instead of falling down, she changed and flew into the night as a bird. 

#dc comics #dc universe #robin #fanfiction #fanfic #damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne fanfic #batman #untamed #robin fanfic #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne x oc

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Battle Headcanon for when Kakazu and Kaashi fought to the death!

I had another thought, and realized if Gai is still born on New years, maybe mortals are not the only ones to celebrate the holiday and Gods have their own banquet where they meet up and party hardy. Sure they all have their own responsibilities to get to, but if they're finished up or caught up on what they need to do, almost everyone drops in for a visit. Maybe this only happens every 100 years though, instead of once a year (since they're immortal).

Anyway with all the gods here, Kakazu took the opportunity to act on an idea he has had for a while now. He overheard Gai would be born soon, and took the time to find the family, and would you know it, the human was born on the same day every god would be busy partying. He's decided to take Gai for himself for some reason. Spiting Kakashi, selling him for profit, trying to invoke his transformation into a dragon, or turning him into a follower and influencing to chage the world so they appreciate him more, as he noticed Gai's lives tend to invoke large scale change every time he shows his face, and maybe he could use that so it benefits him.

Whatever the case, it will piss off Kakashi so that will at least make this entire thing worth it. So he ends up killing the parents and going to the nursery to take the baby. With the gods distracted no one will stop him.

Only, Kakashi had went to the party for a bit and ended up talking to Obito, who told him about Gai's successful reincarnation and his assurance that he was looking forward to another happy and peaceful life, just like the teacher one last time. In fact being born on new years, at the start of a new century, would probably make him super lucky! Kakashi gets a weird gut feeling though. Maybe its because he didn't see Kakazu skulking around for money or picking a fight with him, maybe its just been a while since he saw Gai as a baby (last time he saw him that small was probably Prince Gai!) and he's feeling nostalgic. He probably misses Gai deeper this time because last time they were in a committed relationship for 60+ years. And he'd like to just check on the family to make sure its as good as Obito says and to wish him happy birthday.

Whatever the case he goes down. Immediately sees a problem, and zaps himself into the nursery. He sees Kakazu about to do something and manages to speed his way between him and Gai, and grab the baby before Kakazu could. (Probably cut off his hand for good measure), demanding what he's doing here.

After a very brief verbal smack down, Kakashi realizes that with all the gods busy partying, there will be no back up. He also knows that with a baby Gai in his arms, he can't go ham on the electric attacks like he usually does. He can't also josel him too much due to being a baby. His best bet is to get in the sky, away from the mortals. And then use long distance attacks on Kakazu.

Kakazu also realizes this and knows he has to end the fight quickly and quietly, he has to keep Kakashi low to the ground so he can't get help. Also with Gai in Kakashi's arms, he knows a majority of Kakashi's attacks amd agility are suddenly off limit. He also won't be as mobile as usual so he has to keep the fight close and to use his wires/ extra heart beasts, to surround Kakashi and to keep him from escaping to the sky.

(And if Kakazu accidentally kills the infant, it would suck for his plans. But he knows it would devastate Kakashi. And seeing that pain on spread on Kakashi's face would make this whole trip worth it.)

Whatever the case, Kakashi is PISSED. But he is more than lightning. He wraps Gai up in an outer layer of his Yukata to keep him safe/ bundled up close, and uses a sword/ water and rain to manuver around Kakazu. Eventually he finds an opening and uses the wind to get to the sky, where he can summon his lightning blasts. But Kakazu is after him. At one point Kakazu hits Kakashi through a storm cloud and the bundle that looks like Gai is dropped. And Kakazu ends up grabbing it. Thinking he's won-

Only, Kakashi used cloud cover and lighting attacks to summoned his dogs to the fight. He swapped Gai for Pakkun, and gave the real baby Gai to Bull to take down to SOMEONE safe. And now he has both arms free- and with Gai so far away, and out of the sky, he can FINALLY go all out with his most powerful techniques.

Kakazu ends up getting bitten/ shocked by Pakkun, and the dogs join the fray attacking his heart beasts. But he's fought Kakashi before and he also is pissed. And sends out his wires/ hearts all at Kakashi. When Kakashi hits him with lightning, Kakazu ends up impaling Kakashi near the same time as Kakashi and his dogs destory the last of his hearts. By this time, the rest of the gods realized all the racket, but they were too late to stop it.

They're just in time to see the two gods kill each other with their most powerful blows, and Kakashi ends up turning into a bolt of lightning himself, lighting up the sky and crashing into the earth, where his soul enters the closest vessel. Kakazu ends up probably breaking into pieces as well and being blown by the wind half way around the world, before entering his own human vessel.

And that's how I see the two killing each other.

Bull ended up delivering Gai to his grandmother/ grandfather, before he tried to turn around and join the fight again. Only by the time he got there, Kakashi and Kakazu were about to kill each other on their attacks. The dogs are heart broken and lightning ended up flashing around on a global scale, before it and all the rain, just suddenly ended.

So was I right about any of that (and are you okay with me sending these long battle inspired asks?)

So a few things i would change are just tiny.

Kakuzu has to make his hit on Kakashi when he’s distracted/unable to really fight back fully. So Kakashi is fighting already knowing he’s going to die because Kakuzu got a hit in while he was still holding Gai.

I say this because based off canon skill wise, Kakuzu does not match up to Kakashi. Now obv this isn’t cannon but i like to be respectful and the biggest challenge of Kakuzu isn’t his skill it’s his endless lives

And Kakuzu has that

Even woth his hands full with Gai Kakashi managed to destroy one of those lives he stole from mortals loyal to him, or perhaps a smaller god or mythical creature (oerhaps he thinks Dragon gai could even give him another life)

Kakashi (just like in Canon) isn’t killing one Kakuzu. He’s killing five. Those beasts are still Kakuzu’s hearts and Kakashi has to destroy all of them to win.

In the process, Kakauzu hits Kakashi with a fatal blow. He thinks he has won

But Kakashi’s determined. He refuses to fall until he knows Gai is safe, so even though he is very obviously dying (and the hounds can see that) he is fighting.

He destroys a second heart with the help of the hounds (sort of like how his work with shikamaru’s plan took out Kakuzu’s second heart in canon). The third and fourth hearts are actually destroyed in a huge release of electrical power that cone from Kakashi and all the hounds. The fact Kakuzu, with his final heart, managed to escape that attack is a damn mirical

But he doesn’t get away

As he thinks he has won and Kakashi is finally just going to die, Kakashi shows up behind him and charges all of the lightning he has left into one final, much smaller attack aimed directly at Kakuzu’s final heart

Kakashi and Kakuzu both die staring each other down. Likr you said Kakashi falls to the earth as a bolt of lightning before going to his new body (which is the miracle child of his mortal parents and they genuinly think he’s actually a gift from the god of storms)

Kakuzu would have ended up in the same village, since a child nearby would be available, but when the other gods see him starting to crumble away Temari picks up the winds and sends him flying to another village

A sort of punishment for what he did, but also a chance for the two gods to be separate for the first time ever.

#gos au #God of Storms au