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flamingpudding · 3 months

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Cassiopea and Orion #3

#1 #2

A/N: Finally got some time to continue working on this... to be honest this was pieced together through a bunch of different lunch break writings... sorry if that shows. Also @kizzer55555 totally love your addition on #2! Honestly I squealed when I read it! You were nearly spot on on what I had in mind to where I wanted to go with this story line. Tho I hope you don't mind that I took a bit of inspiration from you while writing some parts of this.

A/N2: Also you guys *sigh of fondness for the dpxdc fandom* originally I wasn't going to tag it just yet but I guess I will now, even if I have no experience writing it and only tried to sort of hint at it a bit for readers interpretations: Spirit Halloween 👻

Ellie frowned watching these people, still sitting on her spot on the railing. Once their initial excitement quieted down and the seriousness of the situation took over, she was left with nothing more to do than to watch the situation unfold before her. A part of her was surprised about the amount of information the big bad bee had on Danny. Some of which she thought was information that previously only Tucker, Sam and Jazz had. But apparently Ellie had been wrong.

Massively wrong by the amount of information she was seeing here. How long had Danny truly been in contact with this guy? There had to have been more than just the occasional phone calls she had caught him on. Did that mean this guy also knew about Dan? About the GIW? About the Infinite Realms? If he knew about all this why, why didn't he help sooner? Why hadn't Danny made contact with this guy sooner either? She did notice him pausing at certain points before continuing like nothing was happening. It didn't look like the onlookers minded, but to Ellie it was an indicator that big bad bee knew more.

She stayed silent the entire time, only muttering a correction ever now on then when she did note that the guy's information was outdated. Still something bothered her the entire time. Ellie didn't know what it was exactly, but the grim faces of the onlookers and the stoic nearly cold sounding explanation of big bad bee rubbed her wrong.

It was only at the end of it that she realize what it was exactly that had bothered her so much.

"What about family? Does she have anyone else left?" One of the onlookers asked and Ellie's head snapped up towards them. That sounded like... no, they weren't...

"According to her, Phantom lost his haunt. Including the code she gave to Robin, we can assume that there is no other safe place left. Unless..." Armored furry turned towards her, and Ellie stiffened only slightly as it appeared that they were finally going to address her again. "What is the status of Plasimus."

"You know about him too huh..." She muttered, not looking at any of them. "Castle is gone, whereabouts unknown, Mom was worried that he was one of the first after the first one of no contact, but that's not confirmed. Nothing turned up to indicate that."

Ellie didn't look up to see the reaction in regards to this information she shared but her head did snap up at the next words she heard. "And your brother?"

Wide eyed she stared at the man that had moved and was now before her, hands carefully placed on her shoulders as he bended down slightly to be on her eye level. Her mind was racing. He knew! This man knew about Dan. Distantly she heard one of the onlookers complain that in all the Infromation Bee had given them he had not mentioned about Ellie having a brother. She didn't react on that, instead searching that man's face despite it being half covered by a bat shaped cowl.

She wasn't sure what she was searching for but she wasn't finding it. Now she wished she had paid more attention to Grandma Pandoras lessons on Aura reading. Dan was in Far Frozen, put into stasis and protected and cared for by Frostbite and his tribe. The other ghosts were looking out for him too, they would do the same for her if she had a way into the Ghost Zone but both portals were gone and Danny, Wulf and Cujo were the only ones currently able to open portals. She wasn't even sure if they knew what Danny had done to protect her.

As her mind wandered Ellie did not realise that the people around her took her silence as some kind of answer. She did not realise how those she doubted onlookers shared grim and saddened looks. Nor how the man before her squeezed her shoulders ever so slightly as if afraid that she would brake any moment.

"Do not worry. You will be safe here with us." The armorer furry reassured her, drawing her attention back to the current moment. Suddenly her earlier suspicion came back to hit her in the face as her eyes once more widened.

"What do you mean?"

"We will take you in and you will be safe and won't have to fear them with us."

She was sure that was meant to sound reassuring but it wasn't. It made her stomach sink. With a moments use of intangibility she pushed away from the man floating backwards and putting more distance between her and these people. Danny gave her the code, told her to use it in a dire situation. That she would get help with that code. That they would help! This didn't sound like the help she wanted. She hadn't even gotten to explain the situation from her side. All they did was apparently assuming something all because of that stupid code Danny, her mom, gave her.

"What about mom?!" She didn't scream but by the faces she might as well could have. "The code was to get help! Mom needs to be rescued! Why are you acting like you won't! Danny promised I would get help when I use it!"

"Danielle." She halted and froze. That tone was stern and it was missing the gravel she had previously heard in that man's voice, it sounded the same way Danny or Auntie Jazz sounded when they needed for her to listen.

"Wait B! I don't think-"

"The code Danny gave you. It's his last resort code, personalised to you. It is one of our many codes we both came up with for our children. One only for situations we did not believe to come back from alive."

"W-what?"

"Aquila, Apus, Phoenix, Cygnus, Columba, Grus, Pavo and Corvus. Each of them has one specific Code personalised for the exact same situation you are in. I am sure Danny has mentioned them to you at least once." Ellie blinked finding a familiarity with these words but also frowned with the realisation that set in with that. Her eyes unintentionally wandered over to the onlookers, no birds, these codes belonged to. She couldn't really tell which belonged to who but she knew Danny must have come up with them as some sort of inside joke.

"B! You can't just-"

"But Mom..." Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

"I am sorry. But you will be save with us. I promised Danny that years ago."

She knew that her de-aged body was probably influencing her emotional state as she slowly floated back into reach. Before she could sit back onto the rail like she had done the entire time before she felt herself getting dragged to the side and suddenly warm arms encircled her. Ellie blinked confused until her brain caught up. The bird in blue was hugging her. The warmth felt comforting, just like when Danny, Jazz, Val or Sam hugged her and for a moment she let herself enjoy it. Dropping her guard just for a little bit to draw comfort from this warmth.

While Nightwing distracted the little girl in his arms, he made distinctive eye contact over her head with his siblings, before indicating his head towards Batman. Red Robin and Signal nodded before moving towards the man, Robin trailing behind them after he shared one more glance with him. His eyes turned towards Red Hood. The other wasn't even looking at any of them as he was already on his way stomping right out the cave, ignoring everyone around him. Nightwing was going to make sure to send any additional information they would get from Danielle his way later too. Black Bat and Spoiler stayed close to him.

It was moments like these that Nightwing really appreciated the silent understanding he and his siblings had among each other and if Batman was to much into his own head with these stupid codes and apparently already grieving. Then they would step up and if they could give the little girl in his arms the kind of help she had clearly hoped to get from them. It wasn't a promise of safety that the Danielle was looking for or even needed, rather she was hoping for people willing to help her rescue Phantom, her parental figure, her mother, her family, when she had no one else left.

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deepestuniversallove · 3 months

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Hey I literally logged in just to give you support. Don't listen to these idiots telling you that you're gross for loving Mewtwo.

Because if loving Mewtwo is gross then the entire monster-fucking community should also be shamed but they aren't hmmmmmm I wonder why.

The degenerates in this fandom are perfectly fine with Ash fucking Latias, and men fucking Gardevoir, Vaporeon, or whatever slutty monster girl bitch of the week, but nooo you self shipping with Mewtwo is apparently cONcERnING or whatever.

(I love how no one calls the Hatsune Miku guy names lol, do I smell double standards? )

But this doesn't surprise me because the Pokemon community is full of hypocrites and these are the same no - life losers who shit their pants because Ash isn't in the anime anymore, their parents truly failed in raising them.

Lord knows I faced enough trouble for loving Steven and that too, from an Eevee fucker.

Monika, sweetie you are doing nothing wrong, your love for Mewtwo is so innocent, sweet and pure. I think it's beautiful how helped you with depression and escape your narcissistic mother.

People on this site love to preach mental health support but the very minute you do something different yet harmless suddenly it's

"OH NO YOU DARE TO LOVE A "FICTIONAL CHARACTER"

Keep on giving them rectal bleeding and draw more of you and Mewtwo ;) I love to see it.

AHH thank you so much for this message!! 🥹 That is so sweet of you!

Yeah, I dunno why it has always been like this. Even 10 or even 20 years ago, I often got messages chastising me for selfshipping with Mewtwo, calling it "nasty" and "degenerate", when really, i am not doing it to specifically be a degenerate, but because I honestly love Mewtwo. In his story, he too had to fight against a narcissistic "parent" (Giovanni), just like I had to against my own. How can it be seen as a crime to want to believe? Or has it been wrong to say "Mewtwo, please teach me to be brave like you" in my mind during the hard times, especially back when I was a lonely child?

Haha, I doubt anyone could ever shame the monster fucker community out of what they are doing. Or the furry community for that matter. 🤣

There always seems to be some sort of underlying misogyny happening. Women are expected to get an IRL husband/boyfriend to serve as soon as possible, so seeing a woman openly rather selfship with a fictional character is threatening to them, because how dare a woman not be in the kitchen and make sandwiches for a man? How dare a woman prefer to be single when there is a "male crisis of loneliness" happening?

Then again, I don't think I owe society anything. Where was society when I was abused? Where was the help or the community when I needed them most? I was left to my own devices. When a fictional character like Mewtwo brings someone like me more hope than any IRL human, that's how I know we failed as a society. Even sicker is that other more destructive forms of coping mechanisms are more encouraged. Somehow selfshipping is seen as more evil by the "moral police" than dying from a drug overdose on the streets or having alcoholism.

Anyone who ever complains to me about "ruining Mewtwo" or whatever - no, you aren't "concerned", you are just using that word to camouflage that what you really want is control over me and what I put out there. And i can tell you it is futile. I haven't survived so far just for some snotty brats to tell me what i can or cannot do in MY online space. Don't like what I post? Tough titties, use the block button. No one is forcing you to look at my "cringe". My cringy stuff brings me joy and makes me happy, and I feel I deserve some happiness in this shitty world of ours. You do too, so just..go and have some fun yourself. Don't waste your only life on policing others.

So yeah, you are right, dagdasgoddess. I will keep giving people "rectal bleeding". 🤣 No one can stop me from loving Mewtwo, my guardian angel that even visits me in my dreams at night, and loves me even when I absolutely despise myself. He will always be a bastion of love for me, a symbol that life is worth living regardless of hardships.

#mewtwo #selfshipping #answered asks

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nabtime · 10 months

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Our Empty Graves IV

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 4: sing to me (cause i can't hear myself)

Chapter Summary: Red Hood and Danny have a talk over soup

Chapter Notes: title from Sing to Me by MISSIO Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

What the hell had he gotten himself into now?

Danny hadn’t laid on a couch in what felt like years. Graveyard benches, tree branches, and mausoleum roofs were very poor substitutes for cushions or mattresses. The couch was rank and decrepit and leaking stuffing all over the place and it felt heavenly. There was also a weirdly abundant supply of ectoplasm just floating around the place. Ancients he hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it meant. He better not have invaded another ghost’s Haunt. He did not want to deal with a territorial asshole trying to fight him off when he needed to heal. He was not leaving this couch for anything.

Warily he gathered up the ectoplasm telekinetically and wrapped it all around himself like a faintly glowing blanket, soaking it in with a small contented churr from his core. He still thought it was weird-all the animal like noises he could make. Noises that were instinctual and part of Core Speak, which was a lesser form of Ghost Speak. Ghost Speak itself was less about words and more about emotions and the vague intention of thoughts. Like when sounds and colors could convey a certain feeling or impression. He’d used a bit of it to talk to Red Hood even though Ghost Speak was something humans couldn’t understand or even perceive. It was an unconscious habit- Ghost Speak was the only way he could communicate with the other ghosts (not that they cared much for what he had to say most of the time) and he couldn’t even try to talk to anyone else usually.

It was nice that Red Hood still seemed to be able to understand him, it felt good to ‘talk’ with someone willing to play charades.

But, Ancients, what an embarrassing conversation. He’d been so delirious from being punch drunk and having blood loss. He was lucky he couldn’t talk because he couldn’t imagine what kind of filth he would’ve been spewing, waxing poetic about Red Hood’s juicy ass or something, if he could’ve. Just because it really was a juicy ass didn’t mean Red Hood had to know. Although, he probably already knew that. Man couldn’t walk around with that much cake and not know it. So, Red Hood didn’t have to know that Danny knew about and appreciated his ass. And thighs. And arms. And tits. Aaaand- he really needed to think about something else.

Red Hood being surprisingly hilarious? He called him Ghostbuster Reject and he didn’t even know Danny was a ghost. Not to mention all the names for Batman like Goth Furry Man and Mr. Dark and Stormy Night. He could tell that Red Hood was keeping back more of them too. He’d take any silly nickname Red wanted to give him if it meant he didn’t have to go by the stupid name he’d given himself.

Fetcher the Fetch. Red was right, it made him sound like Moon Moon. It would have to do though. He couldn’t spread the name Phantom around, couldn’t risk the GIW or his parents trying to find him in Gotham. The city had enough of its own problems without the property damage and disregard for by-standers that came with either group.

He felt bad that he’d only given Red Hood the partial truth. He was a Fetch, but that wasn’t exactly a term well used outside of ghosts and the Realms. Fetch- the apparition of a being yet still alive. The ghost of a living person. Both alive and dead. Half ghost and half human. Not that Danny felt all that like a human anymore. He hadn’t changed in a long time and the only reason he knew he still had a side of himself still alive was the faint heart-beat that thumped just under his core.

He still felt a tad guilty about hiding the whole “dead guy” she-bang from Red, but he didn’t need some weirdly nice Gotham Rogue knowing his entire being was against the law. That he could be turned over to the government for a hefty bounty. Didn’t matter that the guy had saved his skin, he’d been betrayed more than once and he wouldn’t risk it with a stranger. He also didn’t want to cause trouble. Red Hood looked like a guy that could handle himself but also someone who would protect his own to the last. He didn’t need anyone getting shot on either side because of him. The GIW didn’t care about collateral damage and they really wouldn’t care about hurting people they thought didn’t matter and destroying homes already falling apart. It was unfair and maddening, but it was how they worked. Ruthless and unforgiving.

Was it sad that the ghosts he used to fight to protect the town were now the least of his problems? Most of them had been scared off by the GIW after they’d gotten more competent and started experimenting. After the Anti-Ecto Acts got passed, most of the regular ghosts had made themselves scarce. Only the more powerful guys had dared to step foot into Amity, and then they became Danny’s problem. And then the whole mess with Pariah had happened and then none of the ghosts wanted to go top side. No, Danny’s post in Amity, stuck as it was in the zone, had become more about preventing humans from entering the Zone than the other way around. He had to stop the occasional reckless spirit, but for the most part they stayed scarce.

He hoped the Realms would be okay while he was gone. Who knows what his parents or the GIW could get up to in his absence.

He dozed on and off for a good bit, sleep light as it always was in ghost form. He could avoid eating when he was Phantom by absorbing ectoplasm, and he could get by with much less sleep in this form as well. But when he was injured, especially as injured as he was now, he needed to rest to get better. Needed to conserve energy and soak. Like a nice bath. A ghostly hibernation.

He started to feel better each time he blearily woke before going back down.

One of the times he could hear clanging and shuffling, like someone making food in a kitchen. He figured Red Hood would have gotten take-out. Was he making food? Maybe he was just dreaming. Dreaming of a better time in a more familiar kitchen…

It was all vague sensations and feelings. Just the warm light of the sun streaming in through the kitchen window. Just the suggestion of a fresh breeze blowing through and stirring up the scent of spices permeating the cramped space. The susurration of curtains in the wind. Just the faintest sound of humming and soft laughter. Like he’d fallen asleep in the kitchen and he was hearing everything through a drowsy fog.

It was warm. The oven was on. There was something giving off steam on the stove. He could hear pots clanging and utensils clinking. He could hear murmuring and rustling. There was the sensation of closeness and a sort of comfort and togetherness he rarely felt. It felt like contentment. It felt like love.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mom said, voice soft and dulcet. He could feel a warm hand rubbing his back. “It’s time for dinner now, sleepy-head.”

He said something in reply but he couldn’t hear it. He felt dizzy, like the room was spinning and everything he’d felt started to distort and spiral. His mother said something again but her voice came out cold and distorted and angry.

“What did you do with my son?”

“Hey,” a gruff voice, still staticky from being filtered, spoke as he was shaken awake. He blinked as the dream he’d been having floated away from his mind, forgotten as he rose from Nocturn’s hold into the realm of the wakeful.

“Black-white-and-green-all-over,” the voice said again, a hint of amusement lacing the words, “time to wake up and smell the bacon.”

“Food’s ready,” Red Hood said, straightening from where he’d been hovering over Danny to wake him.

Mrrp?

His core let out a little sound, much like a cat just being woken. Cats and ghosts had a lot in common, sounds wise, and he was discovering new sounds he could make all the time. Most ghosts could just talk and Core Speak was considered something more intimate, to be used with close friends, lovers, and allies. But for him, it was the only way he could communicate until he could find a way to learn sign. His core seemed particularly talkative around Red Hood, too. Strange. Maybe because Red was the first person he’d encountered in ages that didn’t want to immediately kill him?

“Hohmy-god.”

He blinked, stretching and tilting his head in question. What was that about?

“You’re adorable, kid,” Red answered, teasing.

Red Hood had his hands on his hips, arms bare in all their glory without his jacket, and was wearing an apron. A red apron with frills and a cute little skull printed on it. Who was this man to call Danny the adorable one?! Clearly he hadn’t seen himself in a mirror. It didn’t matter at all that Danny couldn’t see his face- the personalized apron was more than enough. Did he make that? Did someone else make it for him? He had so many questions he couldn’t ask.

Danny chose to just flip him off instead.

Red shook his head and headed back into the kitchen. “Get your ass in here and eat this soup already. You look like you’ve healed enough.”

If Danny could groan, he would. The thought of moving was not appealing. He had already told himself that he wasn’t moving from the couch for anything and that included whatever soup ‘The Red Hood’ decided to shovel into him.

Could Red even cook? He had a whole apron thing going on, but that didn’t really mean anything. Maybe it was a gag gift because of how bad he was at cooking. He shuddered. Well, no one could be worse than his parents. He’s pretty sure sentient food beats out burnt to a crisp any day. There wasn’t any smoke or sign of fire so that was encouraging at least.

He was mostly healed at this point, scrapes gone and bleeding stopped. He could move his arm again and he didn’t need to channel all his ectoplasm into healing alone. His thigh and his shoulder were still throbbing from the shitty Bat-a-rangs but they were on the mend. Honestly, for how bad off he’d been he was healing pretty well and pretty quickly. The benefits of being a dead guy. And landing in a city rich with the stuff that helped him. He had enough he could probably go invisible and freak out Red, but he’d refrain for now.

Still, he flopped over the cushions, debating on whether it was worth it to move or not. He didn’t need to eat and its not like his senses were the same in ghost form as they were in human form. He didn’t smell the same way and while he’d never tested it, he probably couldn’t taste the same way either. So what did it even matter-

And suddenly there was a mass of looming Red just hovering over him and then- still very suddenly, he was being lifted up from the couch. Cradled in very warm, very nice arms.

“H-up we go-,” Red Hood mumbled, very very close to Danny’s ear and making him shiver. He was carried princess style into the kitchen and plopped down into a rickety wooden seat. He stared dumbly down at the, frankly, delicious looking bowl of chicken noodle soup as he tried to process what the hell just happened. Everything was tingly and his mind was blank. He had phantom (haha) sensations of warmth where Red had held him. When was the last time he’d been touched without being hurt?

“Like a handful of grapes,” he heard Red mutter as he settled into the seat across from Danny. Wow, rude.

Red picked up a spoon and used it to point at Danny’s bowl. “Eat.”

He huffed and slid down in the chair a bit but picked up the spoon anyway. If he could grumble he would. He made sure to look as petulant as he could as he dipped his spoon into the broth. He stared dumbly again as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to eat.

He heard a mechanical click and looked up to see that Red had retracted part of his mask somehow, leaving the bottom half of his face bare. A cupid’s bow. Hm. A cupid’s bow turned up into a smirk. Red pointed again.

“Eat.”

His voice was odd without the modulator, smooth and deep. And very clearly amused. And Danny really, really needed to think about other things. He had enough to worry about than to be distracted by a nice voice. One guy treats you like you’re not a monster and suddenly you go ga-ga for him. The thought made him sag further down into the chair, piercing the night with a shrill squeak. Fucking hopeless.

Danny sighed internally and went back to trying to figure out how to eat. Well, if he was healed enough to go invisible he was healed enough to go intangible. Partially.

He made the mask intangible but still visible, so to someone else it didn’t look any different from before. Then he brought the spoon up and let it pass through the mask unhindered. Oh Ancients. Chicken noodle soup. Good chicken noodle soup. He couldn’t smell it before but he could now, and it smelled divine and tasted even better. He would die a second time for this soup. Hell, he might kill someone for this soup. Red Hood wanted someone gone? He would do it. He’d do it for soup. He kind of wanted to cry about it. How long had it been since he’d had something to eat? Let alone something this good. And even less something that was home-made and this good. Yeah, if he kept thinking about it he would definitely cry.

He took another eager bite, willing to sink into the flavor- rich with things he’d almost forgotten about like garlic and onion and carrots and celery. Spices he couldn’t name giving it a taste like nothing else. He felt a deep warmth spread through his body and his core purred with contentment.

He blinked open his eyes that he hadn’t even realized he’d closed to find Red Hood staring at him.

“How the fuck are you doing that?” he asked, incredulous.

Danny tilted his head in feigned innocence. He had no idea what Red was talking about, no sirree.

“Don’t give me that, you know what you’re doing,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger towards him. “How the fuck are you doing it?”

Danny rolled his eyes and dropped his spoon . He held up his hand and then phased it through the table, waving his fingers in a little ta-da motion afterwards.

“Alright. Density-shifting,” he said, sounding just a bit exasperated. “Okay. That’s just a thing you can do, then.”

He didn’t know what density shifting was but figured it was close enough to intangibility that he nodded. He picked up his spoon but before he could eat the most delicious meal of his life, Red had another question.

“Anything else you can do that I should worry about?”

He paused (a tragedy, really) . It’s not like he could actually give a list. He could write it, yeah, but where was the fun in that. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember half of his powers on a good day. They were instinctual. Like a muscle he didn’t know the name of that he could flex . He could move the muscle but its not like he was aware of it. What it was called or how it worked.

He shrugged and continued eating.

“You know, glow-stick, there’s gonna come a point where I need answers,” Red said, voice wry. “I’ve let you get away with a lot already. Don’t think I’ll be lenient again,” he spoke with finality.

Danny regarded him seriously. Red Hood had let him move on without explaining things multiple times now. He was grateful for it honestly. He didn’t know how he would even start to untangle all that he was to this stranger. He couldn’t even do that with people he knew and trusted. And he didn’t want to go through being interrogated within an inch of his half-live again either. At least Red was being civil about everything.

He put his spoon down again (mournfully) and gave Red Hood a solemn nod. There wasn’t much else he could do to convey his thanks and his seriousness, but Red seemed to get the message.

“Good. Don’t cause trouble and it won’t be an issue.”

He wanted to laugh at that. Like he could ever stay out of trouble.

Red must have sensed his amusement because he made a motion with his head like he was rolling his eyes. Danny could tell even though he couldn’t see them behind the helmet. Looks like they were both able to communicate with body language pretty well, probably why Red was so good at reading him.

They ate in silence for a bit, the distant sound of sirens and gunfire lulling to a background noise he wouldn’t have thought he’d get used to so easily. But it was still somehow familiar, like a song he knew played on an instrument he’d never heard of. Police sirens instead of ghost attack sirens and gunfire instead of the odd electric crackle of ecto-blasts.

Danny melted into his chair as he finished his last bite, the warmth of the soup turning him into a puddle of goo. His belly felt full in a way it hadn’t in years. The last meal Jazz had made for him had been when he was what? Sixteen? Before she left. Before he left.

“So,” Red started, voice firm. Danny wanted to groan again. He didn’t want to have serious discussions, not now. All he wanted to do right now was become one with the table and savor his beautiful, beautiful soup. But Red Hood was relentless. Merciless.

“You said you fell from a portal?”

He nodded. Miserably.

“You got any way to get back through said portal?”

He stilled. No, he didn’t. He really didn’t.

He thought about what would happen next. Would he go back to his Haunt? Could he? He’d found his way topside and the only stable portal connecting the two halves was in the ruins of the place that Amity used to occupy. Both his parents’ portal and Vlad’s had been victims to the shift into the Zone, both weirdly inverting on themselves, collapsing and reforming- twisting reality in ways it should never have twisted.

Vlad’s portal never stabilized, shrinking down and imploding in on itself- condensing like a dying star becoming a black hole but bursting out in radioactive shock-waves instead. It took out half of Elmerton in the explosion as well. Thankfully the neighboring town had been evacuated the moment Amity disappeared so there weren’t any casualties. But it had definitely been a close call. His parent’s portal survived on a miracle, creating an exit for the townspeople when everyone realized that the city was stuck and there was no going back. Nobody died but- there wasn’t a single citizen who hadn’t lost everything. There was only so much that could be transported through the portal after all. It was the only time anyone ever let him near enough to help, if only to use his strength to carry the boxes of meager belongings through to the other side. Boxy knew better than to mess with them when he was around.

The truth was that he didn’t have anywhere to go. Anything to do. If he weren’t only half-ghost then the loss of his Haunt and Obsession could have Ended him, but as it were it just made him sad. Restless. Core-tearingly despondent. He’d already just been listlessly haunting the cemetery, fighting ghosts when they wanted to pick a fight with him. Skulker was really the only one that tried anymore.

The most he could hope for was a natural portal popping up that he could sneak into, and that was only if it didn’t spit him back out somewhere completely different instead of the Zone. While Gotham seemed to have an abundance of ectoplasm, that didn’t mean it had an abundance of portals.

Would he build a new place for himself here? Haunt a new graveyard? He could never be human again. He’d left that life far and long behind. Maybe he’d find a house to haunt, be a proper ghost and scare some people.

The thought left a bad taste in his mouth, but he elected to ignore it. He’d only just felt a little like a human again. A mistake.

He’d stalled long enough. He shook his head and waited for Red Hood’s reaction.

“ Anyplace to go?” he questioned, tone flat. Danny couldn’t begin to tell what he was thinking, he kept his cards close to his chest. But maybe there was a hint of concern there? Or maybe he was being too optimistic.

He shrugged, truthfully not knowing how to answer that. He could try to get back to Amity, but that was a long, long while to walk and a major fight with the GIW and his parents that he didn’t want to pick. Or he could settle back into the cemetery he’d been chased from. Visit his old zombie pal, Jason and dodge Batman again. It’s not like he needed human accommodations. Nothing an old mausoleum wouldn’t do.

Danny could see the black eye-cover of Red’s helmet narrow (and wasn’t that a trip). He could feel the other man’s stare, intense and analytic. He waited.

Red Hood sighed. “Well, for now, you’re staying here until you’re healed completely . Then we’ll figure it out as we go.” He pressed a button on his helmet that made it drop back down and recover his face, then stood up and picked up the empty soup bowls. “Don’t need Bold and the Bleakness trying to kill you over something stupid again.”

Danny nodded. He could agree to that. He’d stay until the Bat-a-rang wounds and his broken arm fully healed and then drift back to the cemetery. No need to bother Red Hood any further than he already had. He didn’t deserve as much kindness as he’d already gotten. The man might seem to be a crime lord, but he cared about his people and had a surprising amount of warmth. A man like that didn’t need to worry about a thing like Danny.

He would fade out when Red Hood left and go back to where he belonged. Some dusty old mausoleum he could guard. And then he would wait out the rest of his existence there, protecting bones no one cared about anymore for as long as he continued to walk this plane. Maybe someday he’d fully die and make his way back to the empty streets of Amity, maybe by then the ghosts of his neighbors would have repopulated the town. Maybe he’d see his friends again. Maybe, someday, he could rest.

It was as good a plan as any.

“Alright, kid, rest up for now,” Red said, rinsing out the bowls and setting them to dry on a rack by the sink. Danny just watched the man move about the kitchen, enjoying the view. Red ducked out of the apron and folded it up until it was as small of a bundle as it could go and stuffed it in a side pocket on his utility belt. Well, huh. So he just carried that around with him then. Fascinating.

He turned back to Danny and pointed a stern finger in his direction. “I don’t wanna see you anywhere but that couch until you’re fully healed.”

Danny rolled his eyes and nodded. He’d be fine. Red Hood wouldn’t see him anywhere but the couch, not once he went invisible.

Red pulled his gloves on, Danny watching with rapt attention. Maybe a little too much attention when he pulled his jacket back on and his arms flexed with the movement. Hmm.

“You need help back to the couch, glow-stick?”

Danny felt himself flush, face probably turning green under the mask as he scrambled out of the chair and stumbled back to the couch, shaking his head along the way. He plopped down onto the cushions and melted a little into the blood-stained fabric with a bit of intangibility.

Red Hood huffed and shook his head, making his way toward the window and throwing a leg out and straddling the sill.

“Rest up and I’ll see you in the morning, Fetcher,” he called, giving Danny a wave.

Danny gave a wave back, a little sad that this would be the last time he saw Red Hood. He’d be gone in an hour or two, ready to haunt one of the smaller cemeteries of Gotham into perpetuity. For now, however, he’d take another nap and rest like a human just one last time.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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talesofbirbal · 2 years

Text

The Taming of the Bear

"Get out there, big boy," rasped 24 year old Jake in his sexy, American accent, slapping Keith's mountainous butt cheeks with a loud thwack, then cheekily thrusting his finger deep into his hole, before playfully shoving the hairy behemoth onto set, bare ass naked, to perform his next scene, cock springing spontaneously into erection, all glorious 13 inches of it.

There was a pause as Bobby, the scrawny director of Sunny Hill Adult Studios and boyfriend of Keith, his prime performer, the four twinky porn actors, the cameramen and other assembled onlookers gawped in amazement at Jake's cockiness, expecting Bobby to tear into him any moment.

But there was nothing. Only silence. Jake, the studio's dazzling new star, smirking smugly to himself, taking in every inch of Keith's tall, middle-aged, muscular-but-going-to-seed, furry ball-gutted body.

"Cut," barked Bobby. "Erection is too soon, start again as soon as we can,"

Keith blushed and looked shyly at Bobby, who bore a huffy scowl on his face.

In order to appreciate how the scene described above came about, it is necessary to go back four months, to when Jake was still in America, before he came to the UK to join Sunny Hill Adult Studios. Jake's small living room, one quiet evening, when he was entertaining Scott, his best friend, one-time boyfriend and fellow performer in the adult entertainment industry.

"Do you remember that Keith Starr guy I talked about?" asked Jake.

Scott burst into giggles. "Yeah, I remember, that fat old dude you're so crazy about!"

"Well, something interesting has come up," cut in Scott. "Bobby Woodward, the director of Sunny Hill, has offered me a shitload - and I mean an absolute shitload - of money to go to the UK and produce material with them."

Scott's mouth gaped. He knew Sunny Hill paid big, but he also knew why as well.

"I know you worked for them at one time," Jake continued. "I was hoping you could give me the low-down, share some gossip, y'know."

Scott put on his serious face.

"It's not like that, is it?" asked Jake, concerned.

"That place, Keith Starr and Bobby Woodward, especially Bobby Woodward really - they've got a certain notoriety."

"Maybe I like me some notoriety," crooned Jake, perking up.

"Not this, you wouldn't," said Scott. "They're... well to be fair they're not gropey or rapey, never seen or heard anything like that..."

"Can't be so bad then," said Jake. "You know what some of the people in the industry in the US are like..."

"But they are...rough."

"Rough?"

"Bobby gets off on seeing Keith fuck guys less than half his age and size senseless, brutally, blood gushing out of their anuses sort-of-stuff... I've seen it, and it's horrible. Keith's the 100 percent alpha male, never kisses a guy, never sucks a guy, never bottoms - all he does, literally ever, is fuck asses and faces. Now, I'm not saying those lads don't know what they're getting themselves into, but at the same time, having seen it, having it done to me once in fact...it's just not right. They know they have to perform or Bobby, who is the biggest asshole I've ever known, will chuck them out. So it's pressure, you see?"

"I heard Bobby is a skinny runty little bastard, and I got that impression on the phone as well. But they're not doing anything wrong or illegal are they?"

"Well, not illegal, but it's... it's carnage. You're a piece of meat there."

"What's Keith like?"

Scott pulled a disgusted face.

"Well?"

"I find the man repulsive, the way he behaves both on set and around the studio."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not natural, his libido. It's legendary. He can literally provide an erection on command. Whenever there's a fucking scene, and the guy is losing it, is not able to perform...Bobby just calls out to Keith to finish off the shoot, just to literally provide the shot of the big cock fucking some poor guy's face or ass."

"Wow. He never can't hold an erection? Never?"

"Never, ever. God knows how. That man has been in porn since he was 20, and he's what, 51 now?" said Scott, who did a quick Google search on his mobile phone and confirmed. "Yup, 51 years old now and still going."

"You've got to admire that," said Jake, leaning back, fantasising about the big hairy bear daddy he wanked over so much.

"What I can't understand is why he's still in the business and so popular, a star performer. I mean, have you actually seen what he looks like?"

Jake smiled lasciviously. "6 foot 4 inches and 290 pounds of daddy meat," he announced in a thrilled whisper.

"I mean, he's fat, he's old, he's covered in all that hair, and I'm sorry, he's disgusting, just disgusting."

Scott laughed.

"When I was over there, I saw the amount he eats, and the way he eats, and it's just untrue. That man, I swear, as he gets older, his appetite for food and his appetite for sex are getting bigger and bigger and bigger. That's what they all told me there, people who'd known him years. And I saw it. You know how I told you about how they bring him on set just to do the cock shots when one of the other guys is flagging? Seriously, I've seen him on the set, fucking a guy whilst he's shoveling a hoagie or a kebab down his face, getting it all over his beard and chest hair. The camera won't show that, because it's only focusing lower down, but that's what's happening."

Scott burst into laughter.

"That man is a pig, he's fucking gruesome! I can't understand how you're sitting there, thinking it's all so funny. Can you imagine actually having to work around all of this?"

"Well, he's a success," said Jake, recovering from his laughter. "You can't doubt that, everyone knows him."

"I refuse to call him a success," said Scott, "but he is... a phenomenon, yes, he is that. I don't know why. There is the bear niche, the chub niche, the daddy niche, whatever we call all of that, but Keith Starr's audience is way beyond that."

"What do you reckon?"

"Honestly? Having this guy in the films makes the losers who pay the subscriptions think that if a hideous fat, hairy, over-sexed middle-aged ogre like Keith Starr can get to fuck all these sexy twinks, then maybe they stand a chance too."

"You really think that's all there is to it, man?" Jake asked.

"I don't pretend to know what it is and frankly I don't want to know, I don't want to get into the mindset of a person who gets off to Keith Starr," he said, jabbing his finger at Jake, causing Jake to explode with laughter again, "but that's my best guess."

After his guffawing had stopped, Jake became serious. "I've accepted the offer to work at Sunny Hill."

"You what?"

"Last night. Bobby Woodward practically begged me. He knows I'm the next big thing, and he needs to get me before someone else does. He offered me anything I want."

"You're making a mistake, Jake. I've been there. You'll hate it."

"In fact," said Jake coolly, twirling his finger round and round. "I obtained a special understanding from Bobby, before I agreed to come."

"What?"

"Full creative control over scenes I am in," he whispered, "and Keith Starr has to be at my entire command, to serve me in any way I demand."

"Before we start again, run us through just one more time what you want, Jake," said Bobby, while Keith poured a bottle of water over his gargantuan cock, trying to calm his erection.

"Very straightforward, should be easy enough for everyone," Jake cheerily replied. "All I want is for Keith to do what I saw him do yesterday, and what I hear he does all the time here. Pound four guys, one after the other, while eating that chicken cheesesteak hoagie," he said. "Which I see he's already starting on," he added with a grin, noticing Keith with the hoagie almost touching his mouth, and everybody laughed.

"Don't eat it all yet, that's got to last you the full scene," barked Bobby, and there was more laughter.

"The only difference," continued Jake, "is this time I want the camera to focus on the fucking and the eating, not just the fucking like you guys usually do."

The cameraman gave Jake a thumbs up of acknowledgement. Jake then gave Keith his sweetest smile, which to Keith's embarrassment, sent his cock shooting upwards again.

"Oh for Chris-sake!" complained Bobby, clearly in a bad mood, as usual.

"It's okay," said Jake, placatingly, he's fine as he is, let's go."

"Well, it's your scene," grumbled Bobby, remembering he had agreed to give Jake creative control over some of his scenes and some of Keith's too. He was not keen on starting like this, as he feared his viewers would be disappointed if they missed the sight of Keith's member evolving from limp to fully erect, but if this was how Jake wanted things, so be it.

The scene played out perfectly, just as Jake had hoped. Keith fucked four different twinks while eating his chicken cheesesteak hoagie, and after that going through several pizzas slices and chocolate cupcakes which Jake thoughtfully provided, before blowing his load in glory into the fourth twink's ass. Jake stood mesmerised throughout the whole scene, which lasted longer than an hour, amazed by how huge Keith was, how horny he was, how long he could last, how much food he could cram into his gut, and most of all, by his round, bloated, utterly stuffed belly, which he could not resist stroking with his fingers when Keith lumbered off stage.

"Want me to do you next?" Keith shyly asked Jake, not used to having his belly touched like that, but longing to get his hands on Jake, who he felt hotter for than any other performer he could remember.

Jake planted his lips softly on Keith's, and plucked some pizza out of his beard. "Come to mine at 7pm," he said in a quiet voice. "I'm going to be giving you your orders."

Keith felt a tremor of electricity going right through him. He had never been spoken to like that before. Jake, he knew already, was something else, something outside all of his experience. And he felt so excited, he could hardly wait for 7pm to arrive.

Jake answered the door wearing just his shorts, his sensual, athletic body glimmering in the sunlight. Keith was in tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt which was huge, but getting small for his gut, his belly straining at the fabric and threatening to peek out at the bottom any moment, manboobs bulging out too, and his bellyhole marking out a big round indent as well.

"I've been so looking forward to you coming," said Jake, tapping Keith's navel, taking him softly by the hand and leading him inside. Jake noticed, as he led Keith inside and saw him take his seat, how shy, almost embarrassed he was, very different to how he was on set, where he seemed a quiet but unmistakably forceful presence.

"I'm going to ask you something," said Jake sweetly. "And I know you and Bobby agreed I could ask anything of you and all that, but I want you to know you're allowed to say no to this, it will be okay, I won't cut out of the deal or anything, if it makes you uncomfortable, because it's a bit weird..."

"Ask away," said Keith, managing a goofy smile, sitting awkwardly. This guy is so unimaginably adorable, thought Jake. I don't think he can have been on a date or a real social meeting or anything in forever. Such a big, gorgeous guy, but so unsure of himself, God I'm finding him so sexy.

"I'd find it really, really sexy, and I think also extremely interesting from an artistic point of view, if you could get a bit fatter for me," said Jake, allowing himself to blush a little.

Keith suddenly laughed, and his face and body relaxed. "Do you know, I was terrified you were going to ask me to lose weight? Bobby has been on to me about that for ages, especially since we learned you were coming, he told me it was sure to be the first thing you'd insist on."

"Really?" said Jake, amused by the irony. But I suppose that's not so surprising, he thought on reflection.

"He never shuts up about it, always telling me it will be the end of my career," said Keith.

"I want to tell you something, Keith," said Jake. "I've had the biggest crush on you for the longest time, especially since you've gained this weight. I've never jacked off about anyone as much as I do you."

"You're joking, right?"

"You're the only one I want."

"I thought you and Xander had a thing going," Keith said, referring to one of the other performers who Jake had done a scene with on set.

"Xander has a crush on me, although I think he also wants to ingratiate himself with me to get more scenes with me, to advance his career," said Jake. "But he does nothing for me, not like you do. I'm only doing some scenes with Xander and a few others to keep Bobby happy, to give him the material he wants. The thing I really want, though, Keith, is you, it's always been you. Remember the understanding I got before I even agreed to come here: it's not Xander I want to be all mine, it's you."

Jake leaned across Keith's big belly and started to kiss him, but as his tongue went in, Keith started to look a bit uncomfortable, so Jake softly backed off.

"So what's your weight now?" Jake asked. "The website said 290 pounds."

"Umm, it might be more than that now..."

"Oh really?," said Jake with a smile. "Mind if I weigh you?"

"So long as you don't tell Bobby the reading."

"Oh, that man has no taste at all!"

Jake scurried off to fetch the scales from the bathroom, then returned with them and placed them on the floor. Keith stepped up to stand on them, but Jake held out his hand.

"Naked please," said Jake. "Just so we're, uh, being absolutely professional and consistent with our weigh-ins."

An awkward expression formed briefly on Keith's face, but he obliged, and started to undress. This poor guy, he is so shy doing this, thought Jake. But why is he so unselfconscious on set, but embarrassed here? Is it that the set is his natural habit, where he can function naked all the time, but elsewhere is different? Is it that I've spooked him by telling him I adore his body and want him fatter...?

"303 pounds," announced Jake, reading the scale. "Very good. Very good indeed. Seems like you started on your mission before I even got here."

"My weight seems to be going up all the time anyway," said Keith. "I don't think gaining more will be any effort."

Jake stood back, taking in all of Keith's bare naked body, wishing he could devour every inch of him there and then.

"Oh man, Keith, you are so beautiful," said Jake, adding in a quieter voice "it was worth coming here just for you, not for the money or career or anything else, just for you," and he approached Keith, hugging him, holding him. Keith relaxed, his face melted, and he wrapped his thick arms around Jake, his paws stroking up and down Jake's sides.

A few tears rolled down Keith's eyes.

"Hey, big guy," said Jake, holding Keith tighter and stroking his beard. "Tell me what's up? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Nobody's ever liked me before until this. Not for the longest time anyway."

"Oh, come on, I can't believe that," comforted Jake.

"All the performers make comments about me, behind my back and sometimes right in front of me. They all find me gross, I know it. They hate doing anything with me."

Jake thought back guiltily to the conversation he had with Scott before he flew over. Scott had found him gross, and yes, Jake admitted to himself, I found it funny, found it a turn on even, to think about how awful Scott and all the others found their experiences around Keith. Yet this was, this is, a real human being, with feelings, this real guy in my arms, crying right in front of me.

"Keith," said Jake, "I've never met anyone as amazing, as gorgeous as you are."

"Really?"

Jake gestured with his eyes towards the raging hard-on bulging in his shorts, and Keith smiled.

"I know we adult entertainers have to get hard dicks all the time, but this is real, Keith, this is really for you," Jake said. "And this - and all those folks who pay subscriptions for your films - proves you're not gross, you're a sexy, sexy, sexy man."

"I don't feel it."

"Why not?"

"Bobby never touches me any more, never wants me to touch him. There's been nothing there for a long, long time. I'm just one of his performers now, not something special, like what I thought I was before...Now I think about it, though, I don't think I was special to him even then."

Everybody knows Bobby is one of the biggest bastards in the industry, thought Jake. Hasn't anyone told Keith that?

"He goes with other guys instead," said Keith. "Like Xander... I think that's how he got those scenes with you."

"You know Xander can't do for me what you do for me."

"But Xander and the others know stuff, can do stuff I don't know how to do."

"How do you mean?"

"The way I've always been with Bobby... I have to act like I'm a straight guy having gay sex basically, and that was always both on set, and in my private life too. I've never been allowed to properly kiss a guy, with tongues, you know. Or do other stuff, like suck a guy, or be the bottom. All I'm allowed to do is fuck. I'm a fuck monster basically, that's what he calls me, his fuck monster."

Jake took some moments to take all of this in. This was strange, twisted, he thought. Before I came here I would never have believed Keith could be so vulnerable, or so absolutely under the thumb of another guy, but he is, he really is.

"That's okay, Keith," said Jake. "You don't have to do any of those things to make me happy."

An expression formed on Keith's face. Was it disappointment or confusion, wondered Jake.

"But I would love, I mean really love, to teach you," Jake added.

Keith broke into a smile, and for the rest of the evening, he and Jake were snuggled up on the sofa, Jake teaching Keith how to kiss, and the two of them touching each other all over their bodies. Then, later on, Jake plied Keith with beers, and ordered four extra large pizzas, cajoling Keith to guzzle up slice after slice with belly rubs and cock play, until they both crashed out together in bed, Jake's head resting on Keith's stuffed, gluttonous belly. It was the happiest night either of them could remember.

Back on set, Keith sat sprawled naked across a giant bean bag, stuffing his face with a kebab, and periodically partaking of the scrumptious bacon rolls Jake had lovingly made for him, assembled on a plate resting on a small coffee table within easy reach. As he munched away, four twinks devoted themselves to his pleasure, one each sucking on each tit, and the others licking and sucking his hefty balls and inner thighs. Jake smiled, enjoying the fantasy he was seeing enacted on set, whilst Bobby looked askance at the cameraman, silently communicating how awful he thought this whole scene was. Bobby was not used to not being able to call the shots, and he did not like one moment of it. "This will never sell," he muttered quietly to Xander, the performer he got on best with at the moment. Xander though, he knew, was not the star here, at least not yet. The stars, Bobby well knew, were that ageing lardball he pretended to call a boyfriend, and Jake.

After some while, with Keith dripping with sweat and belly and cock swelling obscenely, Jake dove in between Keith's legs and took the honours for himself, worshipping Keith's great round gut with his fingers, lips and tongue, licking out his deep bellyhole, then taking his big cock expertly into his mouth, swallowing the full length deep into his throat, driving Keith into a wailing frenzy which took Bobby and the other staff aback. Keith was not meant to make much noise; that was against his established image. He was meant to be a few masculine grunts and that was it, not howling like a whore like most of the other performers did. When will this all be over, thought Bobby to himself.

"Jump on the scales for me, big boy," said Jake, leading Keith by the hand to his weighing scales.

"335," reported Keith. He did not feel the least self-conscious or awkward being naked at Jake's place now. He knew how much Jake adored him, and it just felt so natural.

Jake's hands wandered all over Keith's big belly, feeling up every curve and bulge, squeezing every newly-forming lovehandle. Keith squeezed Jake close to him, and Jake melted, then thrust his tongue deeply and passionately into Keith's mouth, unable to get enough.

"You know I find you so damned handsome," Jake said when he finally came out for air. "Your body drives me wild, you know that, but I am crazy for your face, you are the most handsome guy I ever met," he said, running his fingers around Keith's chubby jowls and stroking his sexy black-flecked-with-grey beard.

Keith had never felt so physically, sexually wanted, needed before. Sure, he'd done porn shot after porn shot, all through his adult life, but never anything so real, so passionate, emotional as this. "Tell me what I can do to make you feel good," Keith pleaded. "Nothing, nothing turns me on more than seeing you excited over me."

"You know you're not ugly, don't you," continued Jake. "I don't want you to ever think you are ugly again, no matter what those jerks on set say. You are the most gorgeous man in the world."

Keith raised his eyebrows.

"Say you are the most beautiful man in the world," pressed Jake.

"I don't know about that," said Keith, "but I know I am the most beautiful man in the world to you, and that makes me the happiest man in the world, and that's very happy."

That was all the excuse Jake needed to guide the big man to his bedroom and throw himself on top of him on the bed, making out with him passionately.

"Your face is so goddamned sexy," Jake hissed, "I really want to fuck it, if that would be okay?"

Keith nodded obligingly. He had always been unsure about sucking dick, but had been fantasising about doing this with Jake for some while now, and this, his first such experience, did not disappoint for either of them.

"You have no idea how cute you look right now," said Jake, snapping a photo of Keith's hairy cum-splattered face with his mobile phone.

"You've gotta show that to Bobby. He'll never believe it, he'd be so shocked!"

For their next session on set, Jake took his fantasies one step further, directing that Keith get down on his knees and eat and lick four donuts off his long, thick, hard cock.

"I won't say I'm keen," protested Bobby. "This goes against Keith's image, which we've built up for three decades. He doesn't give oral, he only receives."

Jake flashed Bobby the photo on his mobile phone, and Bobby grimaced. "Been having fun, you two, eh?"

"Well, we did agree," said Keith, reminding Bobby of the understanding they reached when Jake came to work for the studio.

"I'll do some more scenes with Xander, if that makes you feel better about this," offered Jake, remembering how eager Bobby was to pair him and Xander together. Xander's face could not conceal his delight.

Bobby nodded. Keith can't have long left for his career anyway, he thought.

"Good, then," said Jake, walking onto set, stroking his big dick until it was at full mast, then skewering the four donuts onto it, one after the other. Bobby's eyes rolled upwards, and Jake winked at Keith, who clambered onto the set too, and got down to business. As Keith tenderly consumed the donuts, Jake gazed into the screen, enjoying the perfect angle of seeing Keith on all fours, belly hanging down, huge round ass taking up a quarter of the image. I want that so badly, thought Jake, thrusting his dick deeper into Keith's mouth, delicious thoughts going through his mind about how much it would turn him on to introduce his sexy big boy to the exquisite delights of bottoming. You have no idea how hard and how many times I am going to fuck you, big boy, he thought, plowing more donut and dick into Keith's mouth, and you have no idea how much you are going to beg me for more and more.

"I saw the way you were looking at my ass in the screen," said Keith.

"You never?" said Jake.

"From one of the mirrors at the other side of the set. C'mon, I know you want to fuck me so bad, don't you."

Jake's face beamed.

"We can try, if you want..."

"I want to so much, but first I have some games to play and toys to play with..."

With that, Jake took Keith by the hand and led him gracefully but assertively to the bedroom, then lowered Keith's pants, produced a chastity device as if from nowhere and clamped it onto Keith's big dick.

"You know what this is?"

"What the fuck?"

"You not seen one of these before?"

Keith lifted up his dick and tried to examine the device, but could not get a proper look because his great fat belly was in the way.

"Come here," said Jake, grinning, leading Keith by the hand towards his wardrobe mirror.

"I've not seen anything like this before. What is it?"

For someone who had worked in the porn industry for over 30 years, Keith was remarkably innocent, Jake thought. He was not surprised, though, because he had already seen a lot of what Keith was like in this respect.

"I'm gonna be keeping you all horned up, not able to wank, not able to get hard," whispered Jake. "I'm gonna make you so desperate."

Keith, blessed with an unusually high sex drive and used to frequent hard-ons and orgasms, trembled at the prospect of being locked up like this. It was so cruel, so frustrating. But also, he had to admit, so fucking hot. Yes, he was being locked up, but he was being locked up by and for Jake, and there could be nothing more tantalising than that.

"Good job we've got no filming for a week," said Keith.

"I have some other toys to play with," said Jake, producing a small dildo.

For the next six days, Jake teased and taunted Keith mercilessly about his predicament, doing sexy dances and stripteases for him to make his blood hot, but never releasing him from the device. He continued to ply Keith with beer and food as well, finding, to his delight, that the lack of access to sexual arousal increased Keith's appetite tenfold. Most excitingly for Keith, though, Jake introduced him to dildos, small ones at first, then slightly bigger ones, then ones that were even bigger. He had never experienced anything like this before, this pleasure in his anus, more intense than anything he could have imagined. It was unbelievable, he thought, that at the age of 51, he was discovering and re-learning sex in such a thrilling new way.

"I'm gonna give you some real dick now," hissed Jake on the seventh day, putting aside the dildo, dropping his pants, and finally giving Keith what he had been begging for all week.

"Oh yes, yes, yes!" squealed Keith, on all fours, thrusting his fat ass as hard as he could into Jake's crotch, as Jake entered him for the first time.

"Take my dick, baby, it's all yours, big boy," said Jake, unlocking the chastity device and pounding him as vigorously as he could. Keith's pent-up, newly-unleashed cock became engorged in moments to massive proportions, bigger than Jake had ever seen it before, gyrating back and forth and side to side, along with his obese gargantuan jiggling belly and tits and humongous fat round ass as Jake gave him the time of his life. Neither of them could last long, both blowing their loads and collapsing in a heap together, Jake on top of Keith, both panting and sweating. It was not the longest fuck, but both would agree, years later, that it was the best either could remember.

"Run me through the plan for this scene," said Bobby.

"Kinky policeman and the shoplifter," said Jake, looking dashing in the police uniform he was dressed up in.

"Ah yes, interesting..." said Bobby, exchanging a cynical glance with Xander, who was stood nearby, getting frustrated at being kept hanging around so long and wondering when he would get another scene with Jake.

"Up you get, big man," teased Jake, handcuffing Keith and slapping his ample ass, gesturing for him to come onto the set. The scene began.

"Stand straight, stop slouching fatboy," snapped Jake from behind his desk, looking every inch the handsome, authoritative, son-of-a-bitch policeman.

Keith, dressed in shorts and a vest that was way too small, shuffled nervously and stood straight.

"You are here in my office because you were caught stealing chocolate eclairs from Mrs Greaves' shop in town. What have you to say for yourself?"

"I am sorry, sir, I was hungry and didn't have any money."

"You were hungry? You are pleading hunger as your excuse, your motive, for this gratuitous act of theft?"

"I know it is not an excuse sir," mumbled Keith, staring at the floor.

Jake got up and started prodding and poking Keith in the belly.

"Do you consider yourself underfed, boy?"

"No sir."

"Then what is this you are telling me about hungry?"

"I don't know, sir, I wanted something to eat."

"I wanted something to eat," taunted Jake, mimicking Keith's voice. "Well I would say you've done more than your share of eating, wouldn't you?" he roared, grabbing hold of a mound of Keith's belly flab and squeezing hard. Keith yelped.

"Yes, sir," said Keith, terrified.

"Do you have any children or family who are starving?"

"No sir."

"Well," continued Jake, considering. "If you had a starving family back home, I might have gone soft on you, though even then I'd have suggested you stop chowing so much and give everyone else a chance to eat," he said, punching Keith softly in the gut. "But as it is...nah, man, I think I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson." Keith lifted his nightstick from its sheath.

"Please sir, not that, not that sir..."

"Please sir, not that, not that sir..." taunted Jake, mimicking Keith's voice again. "Well, if we're not gonna do that, we could do another way..."

"Anything sir."

"Do you wanna see what I do to greedy fatboys who steal donuts from law-abiding business people trying to make a decent honest living?" snarled Jake, walking behind Keith.

Keith trembled, and Jake took in every moment of his fat ass, thicc thighs and legs going wobbly.

"Let me show you, fatboy," barked Jake, and pulled down Keith's shorts, thrust him forward chest down onto his desk and proceeded to fuck him.

"Eat those donuts, fatboy."

Keith grasped one of the donuts he had stolen, sitting in a cardboard box on the desk, and started to eat it.

"Faster, fatboy," snapped Jake, smacking Keith's rear as hard as he could.

"Owwwww!"

"Faster!"

Keith consumed donut after donut, his chest facing down over the desk, his legs splayed open wide, the merciless, horny, kinky policeman taking his pleasure from behind. On and on, this scene continued, until Jake blew his load. But he wasn't going to wait for Keith to cum too.

"Johnson," barked Keith, pulling up his trousers.

One of the twink performers, also dressed as a police officer, came in the door.

"Lock this fat fuck up in the cell," said Jake, manhandling Keith, with impressive strength, up off the desk and into the arms of the other officer, who led Keith away, panting and sweating profusely, dick still straining and engorging like crazy.

"It's that time again, sexy boy," said Jake, pulling out the scales. Keith hopped on, bare ass naked as usual.

Jake whistled. "378," he announced. "Fuck you're getting so fucking big," he added, and crept up behind Keith, running his hands all over his big round furry body. "You are one big fat sexy daddy bear."

Jake and Keith's sexual relationship had been getting more and more intense and kinky and imaginative, both on and off the set. Their personal relationship had deepened too, and Keith had come to trust and be relaxed with Jake a lot more, but there were still some things, some areas, where it was difficult for Jake to get much out of Keith. One of these was about the exact relationship between Bobby and Keith and the financial aspects involved. So far as Jake could see, they called each other boyfriends, but the relationship was in name only, and Bobby clearly did not care a fig about Keith, was never interested if he had a problem or was feeling unwell or whatever. Plus, to Jake's amazement, despite the fact Keith never went out and had no spending extravagances other than food, and was bringing in shedloads of money for the studio, Keith showed no obvious signs of wealth. To the contrary, Jake got the impression Keith was hard up, as he always made excuses not to go out with Jake, saying he had no money and refusing Jake's offers to pay for him.

"This has been really bugging me, and I know it's personal, and it's sensitive..." Jake said, "but please, you've got to tell me, what does Bobby actually give you for all the work you do for him? What's your contract?"

"He lets me stay at his place," said Keith. That is true enough, thought Jake, yes, Bobby gives Keith a room, but that can't be worth so much in financial terms. With the career he has had, Keith ought to have a nice big house of his own by now.

"What does he pay you, though?"

"I don't like talking about it."

On and on the discussion went on, Jake pressing, Keith resisting, until finally, with great patience, Jake succeeded in getting Keith to tell him the actual details. And boy, did it make Jake angry. Keith was being taken to the cleaners by Bobby, seriously exploited, not just recently but for more than three decades. I should be really shocked right now, thought Jake, but he was not, because he had long sensed something was odd between Keith and Bobby.

"You realise, if you told this to anyone else in the industry, or anyone else anywhere, they would tell you Bobby is screwing you?"

"I don't know, it's just how it's always been."

Keith is so simple, thought Jake. But I knew this already, why am I surprised? I've got to help him get him out of this.

"Keith, I want to take you away from all of this. After we've finished the current round of filming, the stuff we've both agreed we'll do, I want us to go somewhere else, just you and me."

"But I've never been anywhere, done anything else..."

"We can do it, Keith, you and me."

The final day of Keith and Jake's shooting came. They knew this, of course; Bobby did not know, expecting them to sign up to a renewal of their contracts.

"So one scene for you, and one for me, we're agreed?" Bobby asked Jake. He was impatient with having to give so much filming over to Jake, for all this stuff he did not feel was commercial enough, some of which undermined Keith's long-established industry image.

"Agreed," said Jake. "And I want to do a face-sitting scene. These are becoming more popular, y'know, they're not such a niche thing anymore, this is in everybody's fantasies today."

Oh Christ, thought Bobby, not more of this nonsense...

"Where is Adrian," asked Jake. Adrian was nowhere to be seen. Adrian had been lined up for a face-sitting scene with Keith, but by surreptitious arrangement with Jake, had agreed to go AWOL.

"He's not here," grumbled Bobby. "Look, we've limited time and I want to get around to the scene I want to do. Can't you do this scene in Adrian's place?"

Jake scratched his chin. "Hmmm... I would...but do you know what? I don't think I'm right for this. It's not that I'm unwilling to do it or anything, it's just I don't have the vibes for this particular thing, y'know...?"

"So what do we do then?"

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I actually think you would be perfect for this, absolutely perfect. You've got this thing that I don't have...and that I don't think Xander has either, all due respect to him..."

Xander breathed a sigh of relief at avoiding getting conscripted into having Keith's fat ass sat on his face.

"I suppose I can do it," said Bobby, flattered by Jake's honeyed words and eager to rush through the shooting.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, Jake had spent the whole day up to now wheedling Keith into eating like an elephant and consuming gallons of beer and fizzy drink.

Bobby rarely took part in shoots himself these days, but he did occasionally, and he now got up to play his role, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, laid out on the floor. Then Keith strolled onto the set, fully naked, and plonked his behind over Bobby's face, as gently as he could, trying not to crush him too much.

"Relax more, Keith," said Jake. "You've gotta relax more if we're to make this work, don't worry, your ass is in the exact right position over his face, he can support you..."

Keith relaxed more, and Bobby felt the excruciating pain and indignity of his face being crushed deeper into Keith's ass.

"Drink some cola, Keith," ordered Jake, and Keith began drinking the cola, as the camera started to roll.

Before long, Keith felt the bubbles beginning to rise up in his stomach. Oh fuck, he thought, holding in his fart as much as he could.

"Keep drinking that cola, Keith," Jake instructed, knowing exactly what he was doing. "And relax, come on, don't worry, be relaxed, we're all professionals here, doesn't matter if you've got a little wind or whatever." Bobby grimaced, under the weight of Keith's ass, unable to move or say anything.

Keith finished off the rest of the cola, and at Jake's instruction, someone handed him another one. I can't hold this in much longer, thought Keith.

A rippling went through Keith's insides. Oh fuck, oh fuck, he thought.

"Don't look pained, just relax, smile," Jake coaxed Keith.

And then it happened, and it was reverberatingly loud, lasting a good 10 seconds.

Then a pause.

Then another one, much louder, but shorter.

Jake smiled at Keith, gesturing to him to be calm, to let it all out.

Then another one, quieter, but lasting much longer, maybe a good 30 seconds.

"Excellent, boys," whispered Jake, "just a little more to go."

Keith felt an urgent rumbling of pressure in his stomach, his anus twitching and clenching like crazy, trying to hold it in...

A mumbling emerged from Keith's ass, but this time it was not Keith, it was Bobby, his arms now starting to flail, signalling his desperation to escape.

"And just hold a bit longer, we're almost there..." said Jake.

Keith could hold in no more, his insides deflated, and a massive, thunderous fart thundered and gurgled around the studio, sounding more loathsome than the most nauseous of toilet noises, causing even the cameraman - no stranger to most things - to contort his face in repugnance.

Xander, loyal to his master, rushed onto the set, grabbed Keith's hands and helped drag him up, relieving the pressure on Bobby.

"Are you okay, Bobby?" asked Xander, holding Bobby by his queasy-looking face.

"Water," mumbled Bobby.

Xander went off to fetch water, but by the time he had returned, Bobby had staggered to his feet, and everybody but Bobby noticed one thing: a tiny brown smear above the left side of Bobby's right nostril.

Several hours later, Bobby called the whole team back to the set, to film his last scene for the current series.

"This should be very straightforward, we've done it so many times before," Bobby said. "I want one more scene using the winning formula, that thing we know the fans pay to see again and again and again - Keith the fuck monster."

They all knew what that meant. Keith ferociously, pulverisingly fucking guy after guy.

"Xander, you're first, then Brian, then Joe, then Kieran, then Jake for the final cumshot."

Xander and Keith both got up onto the set, but they all saw something was wrong, something unusual that had never happened before. Keith's dick was limp. Normally, the problem was sometimes the other way round, with Keith being too hard before he got on set, but this was something different.

"Cut," growled Bobby. "Xander, give him some prep."

Xander played around with Keith's member, trying to arouse it, but nothing would happen. Then Jake stepped in, started sucking on Keith's nipples, one after the other, then started to kiss him. Hey presto, Keith was on form again

"Rolling," ordered Bobby, and Xander kneeled into position, but within a short amount of time, Keith was floppy again.

"Okay, we'll try again in 15 minutes," announced Bobby.

When they started the next time, Bobby told Keith and Kieran to start things off, but although Keith had his erection at the beginning, it quickly faded.

"I'm sorry," said Keith, "I don't think I can do these kind of scenes anymore. They don't mean anything to me, they don't do anything for me, at all, not now."

"Keith," scolded Bobby, growing impatient, "you're a professional, you've got to perform, it's your job."

"Maybe I could do it if we changed the script, some kissing and hugging for instance, and me getting to please the other guy as well."

Bobby frowned. "That's not how this works, Keith. You know your image, what the fans love you for. All that gay stuff is fine for the others but not for you."

"Then I can't do it."

"Don't say that, Keith. Look, this happens to every performer some day, not being able to get it up. It's a nuisance, but so what? Look, give it an hour, then we'll try again, and if it still doesn't work, we try again tomorrow."

"No," said Keith, discovering a strength of resolution he did not realise he had. "I'm not doing that sort of scene again, the senseless, aggressive fucking, with no love or gentleness in it, the guys walking off set in pain all the time. That's not who I am any more."

"Keith you're over-reacting."

"No I'm not, this is about me and who I am and what I'm willing to do and not willing to do."

Bobby finally lost his temper. "For fuck's sake, Keith!"

"I don't know what else to say to you."

"Well I know what to say to you: you're fired! And evicted too. You've got 24 hours to clear your stuff out of my house."

With that, Bobby stormed off, and everybody looked at Jake, practically the unofficial deputy director, wondering what he would say.

"Let's do a scene just me and Keith," Jake said.

Keith was initially not keen on this proposal, feeling in a sour mood, but he could not resist Jake, and Jake's powers of persuasion were strong.

"Just lay back," he whispered to Keith, straddling him, fondling his big dick, expertly guiding it into his ass, lowering and raising himself, clenching and unclenching, in a slow rhythm, then faster, fingers encircling Keith's enormous belly, then leaning forward as far as he could, kissing Keith passionately with his mouth whilst fucking his cock with his ass, completely in control, loving every moment of it, seeing his lover's great belly heaving up and down, perspiration leaking from his skin, breath panting from his mouth, until, with exquisite skill, he brought both himself and Keith to climax, and they collapsed in a heap. Everybody was impressed. Even Xander congratulated them both afterwards, saying he was sure Bobby would recover his cool once he saw how hot the footage they filmed was.

But Jake did not want to hang around to listen to all the gushing praise which everyone wanted to shower on him; now, this business all done, he wanted to be with Keith alone. Jake sensed this moment had been coming for some while, and he wished it had happened earlier, but he knew he could not rush it, that this was something Keith needed to work through himself, in his own time and his own way.

"Keith, I know this is hard for you, but this had to happen. That guy has taken advantage of you so much, financially, emotionally, everything. But it's okay now. It's you and me together, you and me against the world. From now on, we do things our own way, me and you."

And with that, Jake started the car and they drove off, never to return to Sunny Hill Adult Studios again.

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainer story #gay gainer #male weight gain

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feline-evil · 5 months

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I really hate how much online spaces and accepted majority thought processes have been tainted by SWERF and TERF propaganda and demonisation to the point that you have people who will call literally any queer person who says anything sexual, makes a sexual joke, has fetishes/kinks, is open about having and liking sex or just dares to enjoy porn as a "sex addict" or "porn addict" with little regard for A) how fucking ableist they are being by furthering the negative stigma around addictions and B) how much they are helping push harmful right wing negative feelings around sex that are being used to demonise queer people and push them put of society for being "sexual deviants"

You do not have to like sex nor sex jokes, you do not have to want to engage with anything sexual, but you can keep your mouth fucking shut about people who do. There is nothing wrong about sex, there is nothing wrong about being open about sex or making sexual jokes, there isn't anything wrong with kinky fetish sex you think is 'cringe', your brain is just fucking poisoned by right wing TERF and SWERF propaganda and you have some fucking severe growing and learning to do before you're someone queer people and addicts should ever consider feeling safe around.

Sick and tired of seeing this, i see it a lot in furry spaces, someone will make a harmless joke about something looking like a werewolf cock or about hearing the word "knot" and all of a sudden a dozen quote retweets will be swarming to go "ONLY A SEX ADDICT COULD THINK THIS" "COOMER PORN ADDICT ALERT" and these aren't self proclaimed right wing bigots these are fellow queer people who seem to think they are the good guys. I watched a hoard descend on one person who DARED to have sexual art up in their own private home that they censored and covered up when people came around and the vitriolic hatred and claims of porn and sex addiction they got hit with was VILE.

You should be fucking ashamed of yourself if you act like this, be better, stop helping harmful propaganda demonise both sexuality and addiction.

I'm sick of no queer person being able to be sexual without a million people crying SEX ADDICT or FETISHIZATION. Fucking grow up, some people enjoy sex. Sick and tired of the sheer lack of sex positivity we have in online queer communities, i cannot stress enough you do not have to like or want sex. You can even be sex repulsed and do what you need to do to avoid it. Don't fucking act like this about people who DO like sex though. You are playing into bigots hands. You ARE being a bigot, why should i draw a distinction between you and the next guy who wants me dead for loving another man? If you're yelling the same shit at me i am not going to. Be better.

#jay talkin #just ranting abt bullshit i see online

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seventeenplug · 1 year

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You won't even look at me nowadays (Min Yoongi X reader)

Pairing: Min Yoongi X gender neutral. partner

Warning: Mentions and slight description of an abusive childhood. His father left him and his siblings. Mother abused him. Reader being angry for being ignored. His hacker name is Seven, because I'm not original and just used the Mystic Messenger name lol.

Genre: Angst + fluff at the end

Summary: You met Yoongi at a pet shop, you were looking for a cat and coincidentally you two liked the same furry friend and argued about it until you decided to make visits. It became easier once you two became a couple. However, it also became harder when you realized that he worked as a hacker with the government.

Word Count:

It isn't as if he chose to ignore you as you laid on his couch, eyeing as he worked hard on what he was doing on his computer. You knew he had to. This was the life he had chosen, and this was the man you chose for yourself, despite all the risks and concerns surrounding his work.

It would never be easy, ever since the truth about him and his 6 brothers being the discarded children of a wealthy man came out, work became harder and their identities became at risk of exposure which made their stance at the workplace difficult and Yoongi struggled to not lose his only source of income.

Nonetheless, you were tired. He had hardly paid you any attention these past few days. You couldn't make yourself seen for longer than 2 seconds which was when he thanked you for the food you brought him or for bidding you goodnight once you became tired at night whilst waiting for him.

"Yoongi..." you called out, your eyes watching his figure typing rapidly. He hums in response to your voice, but nevertheless doesn't turn around making you sigh. "What is it? Do you have something you want to say?" He asks confused, he knew you had been bottling something up, seeing as you never kept quiet and usually spoke your mind if something bothered you. But this time, you were quiet, and he wondered why that seemed to be. "Nothing, forget it. Just carry on with your work" you huff, standing up from his wine colored couch and making your way to the entrance of his home.

Upon hearing your steps he turned to look at you, standing up from his chair startled. He just couldn't seem to understand what had provoked you in such a way that you wouldn't tell him what was wrong and just choose to leave his house like that.

"Wait. Wait! Where are you going?" he rushed to you, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you back from the entrance. "I'm leaving. Just let me go, Seven. I'm tired" you mumble, face turned away from him, his eyes that searched yours in hopes of an answer stared at you softly.

"You... you can sleep here. You have my bedroom. I- I can change the sheets. Or the pillows. Whatever it is, I can do it for you" he hurriedly says, his hands working to trap both of yours in his without your notice. You scoff, finally looking at him in anger. He looks at you, eyes widened waiting for your words. "What, so I sleep while you work? And wake up alone again? I'd rather sleep in my own apartment then. At least I have the cat's company" you raise your voice.

"You know I'm working. This is important!" He counterbacks. "So I'm not?!" You question, venom dripping from your tone. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N - " "Save it, Seven. I've been here for days now. I took care of you, I fed you. Not only that, but I made sure you slept. I did all of that and for what?! A "thank-you"? You won't even look at me for longer than a second!" you yelled. He stared at you in shock. Never had you yelled at him, nor had you ever raised your tone in the 2 years that you two had been together. Inside he was reminded of his mother...

Her words hitting him in the back of his mind, the constant screaming, the way she would slap him for not hearing her, he slightly flinches as if he could still feel the leather strap hit his back, but he swallowed down the feeling. Trying his best to focus on your words and how you spoke them. You were tired... of him... his being.

"I'm sorry" was the only thing he mustered up to say to you. "Save it. I'm leaving, Seven" you repeated turning your back to him once more, but he places himself in between you and the door. "Wait, please... Don't do this" he pleads you. "You never call me Seven. Please, don't leave angry either. You promised. I-I will finish this one thing. It will take me 3 minutes, maximum. Please, just wait for me. I will spend the whole day with you. Please, don't leave" he begs you, eyes soft trying his best to convince you.

With a sigh, you nod. Your eyes locking on his computer for a second before you look back at him. "3 minutes, that's it. I'll have the clock running. If you pass it by a second, i'm out."

Yoongi almost fell trying to run to his computer, and you had to hold in your laugh, walking behind until you stood directly behind him watching him type even faster than before, something you thought was impossible, his hands moving miles as he typed fast trying to make the work good in the short time he had.

Already tired, you placed your arms over his shoulders, connecting your hands over his chest as you laid your head on you of his shoulder, closing your eyes. "Darling, I love you, but if you want me to finish this in 3 minutes you cannot distract me like this. And your hands and face are rather distracting" he whispered, his breath shaking along with his fastened heart beat which you could feel under your palm.

You removed yourself from him with a chuckle, deciding to just stand back and watch him work, and just as the chronometer beeped he finished, shutting it off as he stood up. "Done. Let's go" he smiles, grabbing onto your hand.

"Where?" You ask him raising an eyebrow confused. "Bedroom, to take a nap like you wanted to" he smiles at you, you retaliate grabbing onto his arm and almost dragging him into his bedroom, jumping into his bed and getting under the warm sheets cozying up next to him. A smile made its way onto your face as you finally managed to face your boyfriend, dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

Your hands move on their own, touching at his dyed dark brown hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. He sighs into your touch, eyes closing to enjoy in full bliss. "You know I love you, right? Always. Even when I'm busy. I'm just trying to make money so that I can give you the best" he mumbles quietly into your palm. "I know... But sometimes, I just want my boyfriend to watch me instead of a screen. Even if that means he becomes poor" you joke, combing his hair with your hands. He peeks at you through an eye, snickering before closing it again and pulling you closer, tugging you below his chin.

With a kiss to your forehead he leans his head on yours, breathing falling into a steady pace as he falls asleep, finally letting his tiredness carry him into dreamland. Not long after, you follow him, happy to once more find yourself in his embrace.

Published the 9th of December 2022 Sorry for not publishing earlier, but had a lot to study for ;-; I will try to publish on the weekend so hope you wait for those and hope you enjoyed this one :)

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alligatorjesie · 1 year

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For those of you who don’t know Bunny, she is commonly called a ‘bunny ear cactus’.

But don’t let the name fool you there is nothing fucking cute about this asshole.

She’s covered in nearly microscopic spines called glochids that can’t be pulled out with your fingers. No, this little shit’s glochids are so tiny you’ll have to use tweezers and a back light to even see them well enough to remove them. And if any part of the glochid is left in the skin which is likely because they regularly break with the frailty of my childhood dreams to become a real dinosaur, don’t fret, it’ll painfully remind you it’s there until you remove it entirely by itching and burning.

I put her in the pot I carved a spider on because I want everyone who sees her to instantly revolt enough to not touch.

Not to say Orb Weavers are revolting, I think they’re quite cute, just most people don’t like giant spiders. And what better way to telegraph ‘Do Not Touch’ then with a giant spider?

But this plant has taught me one thing and that’s how to be ‘the whole problem’.

So today I’m going to take her advice and be

The Problem.

@rjalker

No I don’t.

It’s really fucking weird how I’ve been in the reylo fandom for over 7 years and don’t remember this exchange. Or know anyone in the fandom who holds this belief.

You wouldn’t have any proof would you?

I’ll wait.

@machoestofmen

People who ship a canon ship from a very popular sci fi movie don’t deserve human rights?

The fuck?

No, no, What the fuck? Explain yourself.

A group of people don’t deserve human right because of a Fucking Ship?

I don’t fucking shit on you for enjoying Steven Universe porn, so who the flying fuck do you think you are to shame other people in fandom for enjoying a fictional fucking ship?

Fuck You.

@shadowmaat

You know I do agree with you about that whole ‘don’t send death threats’ thing. It’s a rule I follow religiously. I’m a furry you see, well before I was ever a reylo, and I’ve been told I should go die since I pretty much started using the internet back when I was a child.

It feels bad man.

But my God’s name in Christ have I met some Anti-Reylos who do not feel that telling someone to die is wrong in the slightest.

And these are just some of mine, not to mention the ones send to other reylos, which please allow me:

While I unfortunately with no doubt could go on, I don’t want to.

Getting told by an Anti I should have my dead body raped by a nail covered dildo for enjoying a ship once is once enough in a lifetime but alas, I gotten over 900 of them for being in the reylo fandom alone, not to mention the countless ones over a lifetime being a furry.

Don't recommend it.

0 out of 10.

This is a lot of harassment towards a fandom that isn't fucking racist but every time we try to point this fact out people like you jump to complete and total assfucks like @rootbeergoddess 's defense for some honestly pretty fucking false accusations.

I do stop and regularly think about why people think reylos are racist but struggle pretty hard because it’s not coming from inside this fandom that's for fucking sure.

In my experience, and who would have more here since I’m an active member of the reylo fandom since The Force Awakens came out back in 2015, the reylos have been quite good about pushing bad actors out of their fandom spaces. On par or surpassing even the furry fandom’s response to nazis in their fandom.

And furries take kicking nazis Very Seriously.

The assholes very happily reveal themselves and the fandom as a whole pushes them out like a splinter. Feel free to show me a post where a reylo was being racist and I'll show you that person's dead account because the reylo fandom did it's due diligence.

Most of the instances that antis give me as ‘proof’ has been easily debunked in a few minutes with Google only to reveal the user in question is no longer an active member of the reylo community because they’ve been asked to fucking leave and the offending account is no longer active.

I have examples if you'd like to see them:

Like this one where the OP posted a tweet from an account that just liked to cause shit and had long ago been banned.

This one from a user who went silent back in early 2021 after some intense fallout in the fandom.

This one, a DM sent to the OP in another language and looking through a bad translation was a rather heartfelt plea which OP somehow misinterpreted as a death threat because they couldn’t fathom why a reylo would send such a thing to such a account after dealing with their harassment on top of the entire shit show that was 2020.

Or this one, which they caption as a reylo post but since they removed the unsername and I did legitimately struggle to find the original post we can only fucking guess if it is or isn’t actually a reylo. Then managed to repost finnrey artwork from another user without asking and couldn't be fucked to spend 5 minutes with Google to figure out who it was.

I had to do extra work because this user really liked to block out the usernames from the people who said this shit.

Paradoxically protecting the people they’ve set out to shame.

Mind you this user is also a hardcore finnrey shipper who thinks the reylos are racist for shipping Rey with Ben and are somehow responsible for Disney not pairing him with Rey even though he has 3 other love interests that don't involve pairing him with the white girl. They have multiple accounts dedicated to harassing reylos.

So this is just a thing they like to do.

Listen. I get it you don’t like reylos because maybe you saw a 5 year old tweet where a long ago shunned user who hasn't been active in the reylo fandom for at least 3 years now said some pretty gnarly shit or you decided long ago you don’t like some aspect of the ship because you feel in your giblets something was sus about it then treated the people in the fandom like shit but just can’t ever figure out why they’re always to rude to you or you don’t like Ben because you think he’s a nazi even though every time we try to show you the perfectly fine Hux who literally did this in the very first movie you just close your eyes and thumb up your ears, whatever the fucking reason.

I want you to understand one very important thing:

There are in fact real nazis Star Wars fandom

Really real racists

Who make being in this fandom day after day a fucking gantlet.

but my guy,

my dude,

my tumblr affiliate,

The reylos are not those people.

I do however regularly see Antis calling reylos racist but then the proof they have is wild shit like a photo edit made by a 15 year old back in 2016 and someone just took the fact they had to remove Finn to put Ben in there as ‘proof of racism’.

Like,

Ya’ll,

It’s a fan edit made by a teenager. It ain’t that fucking nefarious.

Not when you consider we get this almost exact shot in the movies nearly 7 years later.

Almost like this was the natural progression of this character in these movies.

And that this ship was very obvious from the start of this trilogy.

And that maybe harassing a group of women who simply had the wherewithal to notice the son of 2 OG characters was probably gonna be redeemed and suffering 7 years of harassment over A Romantic Ship So Obvious And Telegraphed They Had Actors Auditioning for Kylo Ren Read Lines From 'Pride and Prejudice' was maybe unjustified.

Re-fucking-gardless of the ship and how canon it is or isn't.

I got fanfiction. I got fanart. I don’t need official Star Wars to care about reylo. We still care about reylo and make reylo content and for most people in this fandom that is more than enough. This is a very active fandom and content is being created for it daily, years after the last absolute disappointment of a movie that was ep9 came out.

Disney ain't going to stop me from drawing smut of the characters I love. Anti-reylos ain't going to change the fact reylos have wrote a better episode 9 a thousand times over on AO3, and their versions have some great fucking sex scenes in them. Disney would fucking never give me that much although The Last Jedi did have a lot of metaphorically literal pussies in it and I got to say I appreciate that Rian.

In fact I don't know a single reylo who would tell anyone from any other fandom not to pursue the ship they enjoy. If you're a Finnrey and you hate reylo so much you do nothing else but write fanfiction where Finn and Rey spend 20 chapters brutally beating Kylo Ren within and inch of his life and end ever chapter by having graphic sex in front of his bloodied and beaten body, a little fucking psychotic of you and maybe you should talk to a doctor about all this misdirected anger but I can tell you one fucking thing right now:

The Reylos wont stop you.

I don't know of a single reylo who has ever told someone from another fandom they can't ship what they like but god fucking damnit if I ain't seen page upon page of anti-reylos telling us we can't ship reylo because of X, Y, and Z reasons.

I don’t think I’m crazy. I’ve been in this fandom too long to not notice this trend and it’s an alarmingly common one. The first group of people most likely to attack reylos are alt-right nazis on twitter and reddit, and the second group is anti-reylo finnreys who are upset because a few Reylos asked John Boyega to maybe not talk about the Married Woman he calls his friend like she's a trophy to be fucked to one up those same alt-right nazis on fucking Twitter.

Fun fact you probably didn't know;

The tweet that John originally responded to with the 'lay pipe' tweet was in fact an alt-right sock puppet account who's sole purpose was to stir shit.

It's an awful but painfully enlightening read if you wish to check out the full article.

Isn’t something about all that a little fucking weird to you?

Why is it this way?

And don’t tell me ‘the racism’ because if you bothered to read a single thing above this sentence you’d know it most fucking certainty is not.

I don’t want to hate anyone in this or any other fandom. I would absolutely adore a world where any fan of any ship can stroll through reddit or twitter or tumblr proclaiming to all the world the thing they love and never see one negative comment about it because ultimately at the end of the day it's all fiction and this doesn't hurt you personally.

Don’t you wanna live in that world? The world where you can post your Finnrey smut and I can post my furry reylo smut and the kylux shippers can post their BDSM artwork and the guys who are still shipping Luke and Leia can go do whatever the fuck they’re doing in their corner, what the fuck ever man they’re consenting adults who ain't hurting anyone at this point and I got not skin in that game, and we can all just get the fuck along.

Ship what you.

I ain't your fucking mother.

But I am a motherfucker.

@blackfilmmakers

Allow me to extend an incredibly rare olive branch as I’m not known in this fandom for being calm and collected but I feel somewhere along the way you and the reylo fandom got off on the wrong foot. I feel as if with very minimal heartfelt conversation with one you will find we’re not the horrible racist fandom you should be hating on and are actually very similarly treated as people of color are by the Star Wars fandom as a whole.

The Star Wars fandom historically does not like women just as much as they don’t like people of color.

And a large portion of reylos are women.

I will happily hold your hand and walk you through the issues you have with this fandom and the very not real fictional characters in it. I will do it personally and if you ask Very Nicely I won’t even say the word ‘Fuck’ if that pleases you.

All I ask is when I show you my consideration that maybe those Reylos who were racist to you once are no longer in the fandom and if you give me just a moment of your time I can prove it to you. All I ask is that you put your bias aside momentarily and hear me out.

After all who would know about the reylo fandom more than an active reylo?

I get it. Some people in the Star Wars fandom were mean to people of color. But won't you be just absolutely shocked to hear that those assholes were mean to the reylos too?

The reylos who are overwhelmingly not white by the way, 68% white is an unheard statistic when the furry fandom is a comical 83% white.

For years, even after The Last Jedi came out, Reylos were regularly banned from Star Wars communities. Posts users made about the subject would get locked and the user banned.

There are numerous areas of reddit that are still incredibly hostile to reylos and people of color in the Star Wars fandom.

Go on meow.

Make a positive post at reddit’s r/saltierthancrait about a black character in Star Wars and then make another post speaking positively about reylo and watch as they both get down voted into oblivion.

We’ve both been going through the same hate in this fandom so you have to understand why I’m so completely fucking baffled that you’ve taken all this anger and hatred you’ve received from the Star Wars fandom as a whole and directed it at the one group of fans who have been treated just as poorly by the overarching Star Wars fandom.

Who in the reylo fandom has recently harassed you? Who in the reylo fandom was being openly racist to you? In the last few days? Months? Years? Tell me who the fuck they are and I will personally chew them a new asshole and tell them to get the fuck out of the fandom, as I’ve made it quite clear I’m more than capable of doing it.

I don’t want racist fuckwads in my community anyways.

I don’t accept them in the furry fandom, and I don’t accept them in the reylo fandom.

I’m spending my time here and now on this because you’re giving the spotlight to someone who is making some pretty fucking harsh and out-fucking-right lies about a fandom I’m an active member in that I love very much. I've spent nearly 8 years now building a worldwide community that stretches to every corner of the planet so it feels really shitty when someone who made a post Straight Out Lying about that fandom gains undeserved traction.

Let's dissect @rootbeergoddess's post down a little shall we?

I know it’s been a while since I ranted about Reylo but I find so funny is how the Reylos killed their own fandom and now they have nothing.

Nothing? The reylos have nothing? We don't have over 30 published books that were once reylo fanfictions?

We don't have a thriving active communities on tumblr and twitter?

There were over 18 new posts to the #reylo tag Just Last Night and at least 3 of them were brand new pieces of artwork. At least 8 of those were fanfic related.

And that's just on tumblr.

Right out the fucking gate and they're full of shit.

And to be honest, I don’t think I would have hated Reylo so much had the fans had been decent people. Like if you’re going to ship something problematic, just admit that it is and don’t be surprised if some people don’t like it.

It's called 'enemies to lovers' not 'friends to besties' you daffy fuck. It's safe to fucking say the characters start out as enemies since there's a fucking war going on in the movies.

You sure seem to like Five Nights a Freddie's an awful lot even though the characters in the game literally kill people, but I'll be goddamned it no one ever tells you you can't woobify them and draw porn of them or whatever the fuck your blog is filled to the brim with.

If Darth Fucking Vader can get a goddamn redemption after a lifetime of murdering I think we as fans can forgive Ben for a few reasons because:

It's fucking fake. Ben Solo/Rey/reylo isn't real and they can't hurt you.

If reylo has hurt you it's because you let it hurt you.

I'm not holding a goddamn gun to your head and telling you to ship reylo. No one in this fucking fandom is doing that. If it ain't your jam then leave it the fuck in the fridge and go about your day.

I'm not going to admit my ship is problematic because A: It's a pretty fucking vanilla enemies-to-lovers ship and B: even if it fucking was what fucks should you give?

No one in any fandom is fucking demanding you ship something.

But Reylos had to be extra. They had to be racist as hell as well as annoying. They were so annoying that various people who work for Lucasfilm went private. They spammed Tumblr tags constantly! Also, on Twitter they went around, commenting on any and all Star Wars tweets with #SaveBenSolo.

Hey guys is posting in our own fucking tag spamming? Asking for a friend.

See, I've been in this fandom for a really long time and I recall many positive engagement with reylos since Daisy kept liking and reposting reylo artwork and Kelly also showed an interest in the ship.

I don't recall the reylos being the reason Daisy Ridley or Kelly Marie Tran felt the need to leave the fucking internet. Reylos actually like those characters and actors.

But users like rootbeergoddess sure knows a thing or 2 about harassing people for enjoying a ship.

And now they don’t have anything. There is no way in hell Disney is going to make another movie related to the new trilogy and I doubt they’ll make any other media related to it either. All that work at being the worst part of the Star Wars fandom and they nothing.

Disney could fucking explode tomorrow but I will continue to draw reylo porn. The active members of this fandom will not be fucking stopped either. It has been 3 years since The Rise of Skywalker came out and even still this fandom is nonplussed by the shit ending they gave us. We just made new endings.

Disney has no fucking power over me or anyone else in this fandom.

This isn't the dig you think it is.

I could not give a single fuck if Disney never touches the sequel trilogy again.

Unlike rootbeergoddess who seems real upsetty the MCU is a fucking thing and seems to let a lot of things bother them.

Now that we got that out of the way let's take a quick look at what I mean by 'Rootbeergoddess seems to let a lot of things bother them' and take a stroll though their fucking dense 'anti' tags.

The user you choose to reblog this post from has a long history of harassing members of the reylo fandom.

They have a long and concerning history of harassing A Lot of fandoms.

@rootbeergoddess has a fucking problem and needs to talk to someone about it instead of spending 200+ posts since 20cocksucking17 dedicated to shitting on a fandom that consists of mostly young women of a wide assortment of races who just want to see two characters bang.

This level of harassment isn't any fucking different than the people who harassed Kelly Marie Tran and Daisy Ridley off the internet by doing shit just like this.

I understand that the point of this blog is to uplift black voices and good on you, I’m glad you’re doing that and I wish you 100 more happy years doing it, but yo, you're not helping Anyone if the voice you choose to lift has just as many empty incorrect hurtful accusations as the

very real

very hateful racist

already known to be in this fandom.

Aww shit I gotta level all this snark out with some positivity uhh let's see here fandom positive fandom posit- Ahh! Here we go!

Some Untitled Goose/Porg Game fanart I made.

I would play the shit out of that game.

#Anti Talk #reylo

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girlsexbattle2 · 2 years

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I spent like a good hour writting this shit in a reblog but i want to know if it is shit or not so here we go

was going to wright this in the tags but its annoying sp ill write it here <3 (i also havent watched jimmy/scott 3rd life so Sorry)

the prickel of the abyss surrounds you. not that you can really *tell" bc of the whole, yknow.. dead thing. you desperately try to focus on the past, the serve in horay! You died first! The most consistent disappointmemt of them all, not to think about how fucking furious your other is- should! be. You ruined it. again. always first out, and now not alone! (Not alone? like in hobbit homes or the scent of poppies or the god forbidden joy of being choosen despite all your flaws. someone made the decision to put up-) And youre thinking about it again. I told you not to did i not? For the love of god dont look *that* misserable. Arent you used to this feeling by now? and its not like your soulmate ever got that mad at *you*. however, for your credit its kinda hard to run from memories, here (?) if you call this a here. the feeling of this void is uncomfortable. not enough to ever be upset about but enough to unnerve. Something about the utter emptiness outside of you envokes inner emptiness. Anyways you were looking for him right? What do you mean no, what else would you look for? Everyone else gave up on you in the end, gotta let him have his moment too. Its difficult to 'move. its like space in a way! but it some what works. You wave your arms frantically or kick off the smoke and you go somewhere! in a direction probably. i mean i dont know why im telling you this. you are quite familiar with death arent you? oh cheer up you get front row seats you should be happy. Dont ignore me. You say ons Wrong- wait you whats that.

The smell (you can smel!! yay!) of nether smoke and gasolinehits you. youve never been happier to know an argument is near by. You take a deep breath and try your best to follow, adventually slamming into something smooth. after some re adjustment you are set for walking. Moon walking that is, with the whole lack of gravity. But that wont deter you. for some damned reason you are hell set on finding a man quite literally smoking with furry but your own double death, or would ot be quadruple? you cant run from me jimmy im in your head! well you are still running towards fire. A glow in the distance. A shinmer of hope that atleast you wont be alone in this. But instead of a furious wall you find a crumpled spark. "Look Tango buddy, Im sorry. You deserved a better ending than that." The flame is still. you take another breath of smoke and try again.

"I messed up, and even if you never talk to me again just know ill always be glad to be a rancher with you! Again!" You both just stay still for a while. there is no sound for anywhere to 30 seconds to years but adventually you hear a small sob.

"Tango!"

"Oh youre still here?" his voice sounds devoid of life. Before you can get a single thought out (dont worry we know its difficult for you)

"Go home..." You have nothing to add. Your thoughts are anything but blank (for once) but not a single one can coherently conjure in your mouth. You only see home. There is no coW shit feet away from you bed, ashes neV

A/ashing out of the floorThere is no cow shit feet away from you bed, ashes never washing out of the floor,.. or the grass,... or the walls. Its clovers tied lovingly in your hair, mountain air, the promise of no matter what you were loved (and how it shattered), even the bickering! But you cant let him down. Its not that you dont love him! its just you know better now. "Go"

Well its definitely NOT a question. But you know bickering quite well.

"My home isnt *there* anymore..." The flame shoots up a bit. Not a reaction you were going for but you can come back from this! Team rancher #1 baybe!! "But i dont want to be alone forever. Tango, I dragged you down in the curse, we were doomed from the beginning because of ME. Im not asking for forgiveness i just want.. dont know. just! dont know man! have no idea." There is another space. You hope it is consideration. Maybe... Maybe.

oakyyy hopefully that makes any since in the narrative and its not just how i read it! welp see ya

#team rancher #double life smp #mcyt fic

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plotbunnsies · 1 year

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Can I Save Them All

Part 3/?

Previous / next

Louis looked around the abandoned apartment, pondering.

He looked the place up and turns out it's for sale. The whole building actually is, and for a low price, which is suspicious, and Louis can’t figure out why?

Louis has been here for a month now, and there’s nothing wrong with this apartment. He’s inspected this apartment 4 times, and after seeing the building’s price, he thoroughly inspected it again, and came out blank! He’s even done a day’s worth of research in case a quirk affected the building or something, but all he came up with was that it’s on the bad side of Musutafu (Which is bullshit. No one has bothered Louis until now and there are no heroes patrolling here. If anything, this is probably the safest part of Musutafu, just a bit dirty)

So, Louis decided he wants to buy the building, and after a bit of searching, he found a job that will help him get the money needed.

It’s at a cat café. He’s very excited. He’s never come near a cat before, and he’s very curious(a lot of people call them “Backstabbing” creatures, and yet people love them? To the point of people calling them their boss? interesting)

He’s filled up an application, got accepted, and now he only needs to go to the café so they know he’s a real person and not a liar.

But before he closed his laptop, something caught his eye. A question.

A quirk question, on a forum he was browsing for any signs of a character that he knows the age of (he’s still hesitant to hack with Nezu around). Louis knows next to nothing about quirks (he really needs to research more) but

He knows biology. He knows about human, animal, and insect biology and he knows physics and chemistry and he knows too much for an eighteen-year-old (he had personas he needed to perfect)

And Louis was curious (he’s been curious) He wanted to know whether this knowledge could help him or will it be of no use. If he’s literally going to have to relearn everything. And this question seemed harmless enough. Just asking if there's a way to control a hearing-enhancing quirk (they sounded desperate) The answer won't harm anyone

So Louis wrote a "quick" reply (it was three pages long) and ran out of the door. He had an interview? To nail.

Louis loves cats.

They're small and agile and light to pick up and furry and meows and purrs when you scratch them just right and-

Louis loves cats.

The owner of the cat café was pleased by that (he wasn't sure about Louis’s "I'm not sure" when the application asked him about his opinion of cats) but he still needed to ask Louis some questions.

"And it says here that you've worked in a café before?" The man, with greying hair and a kind face and the softest smile ever directed at Louis, asked.

"Yes"

"..do you have a manager's number? An owner I could ask about you?"

"No, that was when I lived in Europe"

"Ah, well how about you try making a drink? This is a café, after all. You'll need more than a love for cats to work here"

And that's how Louis got his job. He made a regular cappuccino with a caramel pump and drew a cat on top (oh my lord this looks adorable!) And the owner hired me (kid you were made for this) he said, which Louis laughed off. He was very much not made for this.

So he left the café, after giving every cat a treat, and promised the owner (just call me Komi, kid!) To come to work at 6 am. And so, Louis was on his way to the apartment.

But soon, someone started tailing him. Louis walked three blocks, took two turns and the guy was still behind him.

This caused Louis to panic (what did he do? He's only hacked once into the government database and that's only to add his identity. Nothing else! He didn't even steal that much, only going out to steal twice a week) so quietly, Louis whispered to himself.

"Two miles" he felt more than heard a confirming beeb, and just like that all cameras within a two-mile radius were disabled. Louis took a turn into an alleyway and quickly scaled the building, and is currently standing on a fire escape, calmly waiting for his stalker to come.

Soon, a guy entered the alleyway, looking around impatiently. He didn't call anyone upon not seeing Louis, instead kicking the wall angrily and then moving to get out of the alley.

No, Louis thought as he jumped down behind the man and held a knife to his neck.

"Why did you follow me" He asked, inching the knife ever so slowly into his neck.

"I-I didn't, I just wanted some money, man!"

Maybe the people complaining about this place were right. Perhaps it is a dangerous place.

Louis knocked him unconscious and continued his walk home.

"Disable two miles," he said absentmindedly. This is the first time he went anywhere without knowing everything about it. Sure he's not here for a reason, he just ended up here, but he does need to research this place more.

He just needs to find a way to do it without getting anyone's attention.

Well, Louis was not ready for this. (He's not been ready for a lot of things since getting here)

Fourteen people, fourteen different individuals, were in his DMs and were asking for help using their quirks. Five of them were willing to pay for his advice.

Louis is not ready for this.

But the promise of money keeps him from deleting his account (what part of staying unnoticed did he not understand?!) so stared at his laptop. He stared for 20 seconds, then he closed the laptop, put it in his backpack, and headed to the nearest bank.

He’s gonna need an account if he’s going to work online, after all.

It was four in the morning. Louis was researching how exactly touch-based quirks work when he heard something.

Footsteps. Light, quiet footsteps climb the stairs of the building to the last floor.

The floor Louis was in.

Louis got up, and crept to the front door, waiting.

The footsteps came closer, Louis took out his knife.

Knob started to move, Louis took a deep breath

The door was pushed open, and Louis lunged his knife at the intruder’s neck. Sharp brown eyes met startled blue eyes, and Louis froze.

He was holding a knife at Dabi’s neck.

He slowly lowered the knife, watching Dabi for any signs of aggression, and laughed nervously.

“Sorry, bad habit”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I knowww that Quirk analysis is what Midoryia usually do in bnha fanfics, but i also want louis to do it and it's good technically legal source of money! Louis cant go around befriending good people if he's doing very illegal things. gotta start kinda small and when you cement yourself into the friend group you start showing your more messed up side! anyway for anyone who's reading this hope you enjoy! Previous / next

#bnha fanfiction #bnha oc #bnha dabi #bnha #boku no hero acedamia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction

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missmeikakuna · 2 years

Text

No One Loves Like Gaston Ch 6- Gaston/Beast fanfic

Rated: K+ (The plus is due to canon-compliant beer and violence. Other than that, I made it as family-friendly as I could.)

Fandom: Beauty and the Beast

Pairing Type: M/M

Pairings: Gaston/The Beast, Lumiere/Cogsworth

Potential content warnings: References to beer and light references to homophobia.

Description: Ah yes, a man falling for a male furry creature, a tale as old as time. Wait, what? In an alternate timeline, Gaston spots Maurice's horse before Belle does and decides to save Maurice to earn Belle's affection. He is so excited to do this that he forgets to bring weapons and, unable to win a fight against the Beast, he takes Maurice's place as the castle's prisoner.

The last thing he expected was for the Beast to have a kind and gentle side. After all, how could someone ever learn to love a beast, especially a man as intent on shielding his genuine emotions as Gaston?

Lumiere and Cogsworth bicker over the possibility of a relationship between Gaston and the Beast, becoming closer in the process. However, Lumiere keeps flirting with the feather duster, and Cogsworth is adamant that no relationship between two men could work.

Chapter 6: You can ask any Lefou or Billy

The toasty glow of the lamps made the beer look even more golden. Clinks of metal steins mingled with laughter and chatter. Now that Gaston had remained unseen since that afternoon, one of the blonde dames who usually followed him was now sitting next to Lefou. Usually, this would make Lefou smile. In fact, the atmosphere of the bar would usually make him smile.

This time the bar had a decidedly muscular silhouette cut out of it.

Lefou slammed his stein on the wooden table. The girl immediately receded, raising her arms to the level of her chest with her fingers curled in fear. After a second, she inched forward to prevent herself from falling off her stool, causing it to sway.

‘What’s wrong, Lefou?’ she asked.

If only Lefou knew.

Ever since he had led Gaston to the perfect hunting spot a year ago, he had long asked himself what was wrong with him. Gaston had rewarded him with a pat on the head and a glowing smile that silently said thank you. Lefou was always drawn to the man’s confidence and self-focus. Yet there was something special about him doing something out of his usual character in a way that still fit him perfectly, something magical about his love of life painted on his face.

The night following the end of that hunt, Lefou had considered drinking his sudden, inexplicable emotions away. What, was he destined to like men now? Was that his new calling? He had shifted his gaze to the women sitting next to Gaston and was entranced by their beauty. His eyes went back and forth between Gaston and his fangirls, confusion welling in his heart.

He had opted to drink nothing out of fear of revealing his new secret. Naturally, Gaston hadn’t noticed.

Now it was Lefou’s turn to ignore someone, the girl beside him whose beauty had faded not in appearance but in Lefou’s eye. Just as he lifted his stein to his lips, Maurice pushed through the doors.

‘Gaston’s been captured!’

Lefou’s ears perked up at that. Of all people, Gaston?

‘Who did it?’ a man asked. Billy was a tall (not as tall as Gaston, of course) and scraggly man with an equally scraggly beard. He had two steins of beer on his table.

Maurice, already panting from running, sped up his breathing. ‘A fearsome beast! He has the horns of a buffalo, the claws of a bear and the jaws of a wolf! He let me go in exchange for Gaston.’

A feeling of intense hatred sparked within Lefou’s soul for a tiny moment. Maurice let Gaston be captured? Lefou’s precious Gaston? He took a sip and calmed his nerves.

‘Ha, as if Gaston couldn’t have taken him on!’ Billy retorted, pulling up his pants to reveal a bite mark on his ankle.

‘Yeah!’ shouted multiple people in an out-of-sync chorus.

Maurice’s entire body trembled. ‘No, he was a terrifying, dangerous beast! No one could-’

‘Let me guess, crazy old Maurice!’ Lefou responded, putting on his best Gaston impression. He slammed his stein again and crawled onto the top of the table. ‘He could fly and shoot fire from his mouth!’ He leapt off the table like he was about to fly himself. Befitting his name, his decision to do this resulted in his bulbous nose crashing into the floor. He rubbed it, stood up and brushed off the dust on his clothes like it was nothing.

He was about to continue mocking Maurice when a memory whizzed through his brain. Gaston was riding on Maurice’s horse with no weapons at hand. After that, Lefou had taken all the weapons Gaston had left behind to his own house, glad to have pieces of the other man in his possession.

Once the memory disappeared, Lefou shook his head. Couldn’t Gaston have used his fists? Still, the memory bugged him.

Everyone laughed Maurice out of the bar and Lefou returned to his seat. He looked down at the beer still left in his stein, spotting his reflection. His chin was much weaker than Gaston’s. He angled his head towards his arm and saw how flabby and frail it was.

If Gaston really was captured, Lefou would be able to do nothing. He grit his teeth, hopped off his chair and stormed out of the bar. He headed into the forest, stopping by a boulder around his size. He reached around it and put all his effort into picking it up. It didn’t budge an inch.

Lefou slipped out of his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and picked up two less heavy but still weighty rocks the size of his palms. As he flexed his arms, their pain did little to dissuade the corners of his mouth from lifting to his cheeks.

#Disney #Beauty and the Beast #pride month #Gaston x The Beast #fanfiction #lgbt #romance #writing #lgbt romance #drama #fiction #gay romance #fanfic #slash fic #gay #No One Loves Like Gaston

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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

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bewitchingivy · 2 years

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Pick A Card: Messages From Your Lost Pet

Hello, everyone! I'm Ivy. In this PAC, we'll be reading what things your deceased furry or scaly friend wants you to know. I've been thinking to do this for the past few days, but I was somehow skeptical about it. But now I just want to do this as a tribute to my familiar who passed away almost a year ago, and to my three beautiful cats who recently passed away last month.

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I'm against of calling our animal companions as ‘pets.’ I'm the kind of person who personally respects and believes that animals are our equals, they have rights and choices, and they're living creatures just as we are. Therefore in the readings below, you'll notice that I'd refer to them as friends or companions rather than ‘pets.’

Please choose from one to three piles. I pray that your intuition will lead you to the messages that's meant for you to hear. Keep in mind that this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't! If one pile doesn't resonate with you at all, then you're welcome to choose again.

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purpose only. Do not take this reading as a professional or medical advise. Photos used are not mine, they belong to their respective owners.

from left to right: 1, 2, 3.

Pile One

six of spirals (reversed), green man / the emperor (reversed), five of stones, change of direction.

Hello, there! If you chose the first pile, then listen up. “Rest.” and “Be in tune to your emotions.” Those are the words that I've been hearing while I was shuffling your cards. You must be very drained these days and/or you may not feel so well—you have all these conflicting feelings. So your little friend here must've want you to just take a break. Breathe and just be still, even for a moment. Okay?

Also, your furry (or scaly) friend wants to remind you that you're not a failure. Okay, I kinda get the feeling that you're somehow not in good terms with one of your parents. Particularly the father figure. And your friend has sensed this in their time when they were with you. Perhaps this parent have said some nasty things about you, but you know you are neither what they said, and yet it still wounded you to feel insecure and inadequate. But your animal friend wants to remind you of your worth. You are loveable. You are amazing. You deserve all the good things in life. Someone or yourself must have been telling you that you're a failure—but let's stop there, shall we? You are not that. You are worthy and you are a champion. Don't listen to others who tell you otherwise.

I feel like you're being called to work on your self concept, fam. Also, a change is coming or is actually going on right now in your life. It may be confusing right now, but it's a blessing. You're protected and guided, so there is simply no need to worry. Just go where you are most happy and feel loved (even by just yourself), nothing is ever wrong if you choose to do everything with love as your intention.

channeled song: Here With Me by Elina

additional channeled messages: Stop masking your feelings. Breathe in and out. Smile. When the time is right. You are beautiful. I'm always with you. Choose love and leave any malice.

Much love <3 — Ivy

Pile Two

three of scrolls, eight of stones (reversed), the illusionist / knight of stones, reward yourself.

Hi, fam! So let's start with your reading. This animal friend of yours must have passed away just recently, and I'm very sorry to hear this, I know how it feels like to lose them. In the Three of Scrolls card, the illustration is of a crying fox. So for most of you, your friend must have been a canine fella. But here's what they want you to know: they know that since they passed on, you've been mourning their passing. Okay, I'm sorry to be blunt here, but I have to. They want you to stop. Please just stop being sad or blaming yourself for what has happened, they want to remind you that. There will be time for mourning, but just not right now. (Omg, I also got reminded by my long lost bunny, they could be a rabbit too.) Anyways, they want you to stop shedding tears for a moment. And look around you. If you do it right now, you'll miss a lot of opportunities.

I'm gonna be honest with you. There are good things happening around you right now, and they don't want you to miss all of that. It's the time when some doors are opening, and if you don't act any time soon, they'll be closed and you might not open them again. So drop your things and just go for it! Also, you might not be able to think well or straightly if your mind is too muddled up right now. So it's highly suggestible for you to take breaks and reward yourself. Take meditation too. And just breathe.

One more message: they are very thankful for what you have done and given to them. Like literally. They love you so much and are very thankful to have you as a part of their life. ‘Thank you for always being there with me,’ is what I'm hearing.

channeled song: In The Woods Somewhere by Hozier

additional channeled messages: You are enough. I have always been there, and will always be here. You are the best. My only friend. You're the one I love the most. Thank you.

Much love <3 — Ivy

Pile Three

bella rosa / the devil (reversed), nine of stones (reversed), gaia / the empress (reversed), release and surrender.

Hello, for the people who have chosen the third pile! So let me first start off that your adorable friend is proud of you. They're proud of you that you've done your best shedding your old skin and leaving your past behind. They're proud of you that you're trying to better yourself. And even trying is enough. They want you to know that your efforts have not gone unnoticed and that you will be blessed by the things you have done. It seemed like they were part of aiding you in your journey—they could have been your familiar—and they couldn't be even more proud of you for making it this far! It's like... this sense of relief that, yep, they've done their job well.

And since that you'll be facing this road alone for now, they want to remind you that you're going to be okay. OKAY?! Okay. Really, guys. Just chill. I get the feeling that you have been overly stressed out due to your manifestations lately, maybe you've been like worried about something that it's taking so long to arrive, but you see the only thing that's stopping you from getting it is you. So listen. All they want you to get inside your brain is just: R E L A X , H O O M A N . For some of you this could be a feline friend of yours, 'cause I've been subconsciously picturing a whitish or greyish cat who's just so chill and poker-faced in front of their anxious and panicky human, lmao.

So just release and surrender your desires to the Universe, babes. Let go and let God, that's what I've been hearing. Just let your guides, God, the universe to do the job. And you just sit back and relax. I mean, just go on with your life, lol.

channeled song: Going Home by Ásgeir

Additional channeled messages: You are so dumb. (omg what, they're such a meanie but they love you sm it could literally translate as: I love you lmfao). Please clean your space. You have done well. I'll see you again soon. Don't go on doing stupid things. I miss your touch.

Much love <3 — Ivy

#bewitchingivy #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #divination #intuitive reading #pac #tarot community #tarot cards #witchblr #witch community #Spotify #animals #pets

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andysbubba · 3 years

Text

home to me

↳ andy let you go once, he doesn't wanna lose you again

a/n: a little series? this one's probably gonna have another chapter or two hehe <3

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

---

Andy's stomach churned when he sees you. In a very good way. It's been a good two years since the break up and he can barely believe that he's seeing you right then and there— in the corner of the cafe that Andy knows you love going to. Your voice made his heart flip. It's so goddamn beautiful and Andy misses it so damn much.

He doesn't even know why he's so stunned at the sight of you. It's the only reason why he's there— why he's always going there almost every weekend, hoping to get a glimpse of you sometime. You're in the fuzzy, furry jacket that you're always wearing on chilly days, your hair pulled up with a claw clip and your laptop right in front of you with a cup of coffee right by the side.

He tried to get over you, he really did. But even after all the women he met after you, no one made him feel the same way you did. The butterflies in his stomach he gets just talking to you like some teenager, or how his heart just flutters when you smiled at him with that beautiful grin.

Andy couldn't help but look at you every two minutes, while he's waiting in the queue for his turn. He's thinking of what to say if he even has the guts to walk up to you and say hi.

The break up wasn't necessarily bad... it was mutual. Kinda. You were in the middle of your studies and you just wanted to focus on doing well and getting your masters. It's not that Andy was a distraction— really, he actually helped a lot. But between studying and trying to make sure you don't abandon Andy, you realised that taking a break would be good for the both of you.

You were young, only 24 while Andy was 14 years older than you are. He's so mature and wise that you just felt that you just wanted to grow as your own person before you and Andy took it any further and got more serious. You thought that you'd work on yourself, fixing up your flaws and make yourself just grow into a better version of yourself. And as much as Andy disagreed, he didn't want to force you to keep being with him. He thought that maybe, you both could just grow as time passes, and that you can change right next to him.

But he just agreed with you, because he definitely does not want to pressure you into being in a relationship with him no matter how much he actually wants you to stay with him. So technically, it was a mutual break-up to you. But he didn't really feel the same.

And unsurprisingly, Andy simply cannot get over you. Two years passed, and he just wishes that you're by his side again.

"Hi! What can I get for you?"

Andy snaps out of his trance, stepping towards the cashier and ordering his coffee to-go with a bagel as well. He takes a quick glance at you before he decides to change his mind. "Actually— I'll just have those here."

Wait— you recognise that voice.

You instantly glance up from the screen of your laptop, watching the familiar back and broad shoulders standing at the cashier. Holy fuck- Andy?

Your gaze turns back down to your laptop, your mind trying to decide between approaching him or just letting him go... again... like you did 2 years ago. He still fits into those polo tees like a glove, the jeans barely doing his ass justice but it really accentuates his goddamn thighs.

Fuck. Two damn years and you still have it bad for him.

"Can I join?" Andy glances down at some blueprint or floor-plan thing you have on your laptop. "Unless I'm interrupting— you look busy."

"Andy—" You turned to him and back to the opened floor-plan on the screen. "No, no. Hey-" You lowered the screen and put it aside, leaving some space for Andy. You gestured at him to join you in the booth.

Andy takes up the offer, setting the cup in his hand and the bagel right in front of you before he slides in. "Hey,"

You let out a breathy laugh as you look at him, fidgeting with your fingers underneath the table. "Been a long time."

"Yeah," He nods, offering you one of his adorable smiles as he rests his forearms on the table. "I stopped seeing you around, thought you moved away."

"I thought you did— till I heard the news talking about one of your cases." You retort, lips curling into a soft smile. "How've you been, Andy?"

"Same old, y'know. Long hours at the office and takeout nights. Nothing really changed." Andy grins, "How's everything goin' for ya?"

Oh— and he definitely isn't wrong when he said 'nothing really changed'. For this 40-year-old man to still look like the Andrew Stephen Barber you met like 4 years ago? Phew.

"Uhm- pretty good! I'm uh- I just signed a contract with Perkins and Will."

Andy's lips curled into a wide grin. "You did it!"

He remembers?

Your head tilts as you look at him. "You remember?"

"Of course, hon. That's your dream firm." He reaches over table and pats your hand. "I'm happy for you, Y/n."

"Thank you, Andy," You brush a hand through your hair, eyeing Andy in his whole polo tee and jeans glory. "I'm surprised you aren't working on a Saturday morning,"

Andy lets out a laugh at your words, "Yeah- I just thought, y'know. Uh- I'm old enough to stop being such a workaholic."

You raised a brow at that, "Andy, you aren't old." You give him a suggestive glance as your eyes trace his whole figure. "Definitely don't look like it."

"I'll say the same thing for ya, Y/n." Andy didn't bother hiding his gaze either, eyes trailing down your body till it's back up to your face. "Two damn years and you still look as gorgeous as ever, sweetheart."

A breathy laugh leaves your lips. "Always as flattering as ever, Mr Barber."

"You know I'm an honest person, sweetheart." Andy winks before he takes a sip of his coffee.

You hum as you run your finger on the edge of your own cup. "I remember you telling me that all lawyers are really good liars."

You love how familiar this feels. It's like nothing has changed and both of you are back in 2019. Good, good days. Letting Andy go was a dumb move on your side, you realised that pretty soon after the break-up. You should've known that you and Andy would've made it work someway, somehow.

"C'mon, honey. Y'know I can never lie to you." The wide smile he has on his lips is as charming as ever and god if it doesn't just make you fall in love again- as if you ever fell out of love with him in the first place. Andy clears his throat, a hand inching to the back of his neck and softly rubbing the spot. You instantly realised that he's a little nervous. "You dating anyone?"

You let out an almost silent snort, scoffing at his question. "Ya think? I just called you hot five minutes ago, handsome."

Andy takes a bite of his bagel, looking up at you through those goddamn long eyelashes as his mouth moves to chew the food and those fucking pink lips making you stare at him like a horny teenager.

"You've got to stop staring at me like that, sweetheart." He warns, but the glint in his eyes is telling you that he really doesn't mind you staring him up like that.

Your brows raised immediately in defence. "Like what?"

You tried your best to fight the grin fighting its way to form on your lips. But Andy is a goddamn lawyer, after all. He knows his shit and he knows that you're just being a tease.

He huffs, brow arched as he looks at you. "Like you wanna eat me." He replies shortly, lips curling into a smirk. "Cause I was planning to take this slow after 2 whole years. And you aren't helping."

You hum, picking your cup up and taking a sip from it, hiding the grin forming on your lips behind the cup. "You can still wine and dine me if you wanna." You set the cup down and lean forward, head tilted to one side with your head resting in your palm. "But y'know, I'm pretty impatient."

Andy laughs, backing away from you and resting back against his seat. "Guess it's good that I've got enough patience for both of us, huh?"

You laugh at his words. "We'll see, Mr Barber."

He takes your words as an invite to ask you out. "Dinner tonight? My place."

You playfully rolls your eyes, ignoring the little flutter in your heart. "Who's impatient now?"

"It's a yes or no question, sweetheart."

"Still that cute little loft?"

"I'll text you my new address later."

You couldn't fight the grin forming on your lips. "It's a date."

---

He was at the grocery store when he pulled out his phone and goes to your contact to shoot you a text. It has always been there, saved and never deleted. He didn't want to get rid of the hope that he might have you back.

Andy: 242 Warren St [sent 3.24pm]

Andy: See you tonight, sweetheart. [sent 3.25pm]

You didn't reply so Andy just assumed that you read it. He's looking forward to seeing you again tonight and he's excited.

---

It wasn't till you got home that you realised that Andy doesn't have your new number.

LOL I LOVE CLIFFHANGERS.

thanks for reading and uhm come join my taglist if you liked this little chapter? I'm definitely looking forward to writing this one.

do tell me what you think about this, lovelies! i'm kinda excited to see where this goes

-haney

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal scandal 4

Modern royalty au

Image from Instagram

cowritten with @lizzygal

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia, talks of virginity.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7.8k

Story masterlist

Valkyrie, or simply Val, watched the entire thing unfold before her eyes and was helpless to stop any of it. All of it. All she could do was watch. Much like one would watch a train accident happen before their very eyes.

She had tried. In truth she had.

However, Sarah was the Queen Mother and Val was a member of the Royal Guard.

There was little she could do.

“Your Majesty,” she purred one last time, in one last attempt to save a situation that she knew deep in her heart was not going to go well at all. “Perhaps you would prefer to go inside and I’ll bring them into the reception area?”

Everything was wrong. So very wrong.

Outside the palace was normally empty.

As it was located in the center of the capital. An old historic building from imperial days that covered numerous city blocks, was where the government was run and where King Steven resided. Press knew better than to hang around outside the imposing palace gates as the king never left out them and was uninterested in opportunities to have his picture taken. As did the Queen Mother.

And yet, that morning, a whole gaggle of photographers were lined up and waiting for the visiting royals. Or so they had shared with Val.

Her Grace, Hope van Dyne, never went anywhere without getting her picture taken. In Val’s opinion, she probably had the phone number to every tabloid office in the world.

Sarah’s voice was kind. Soft. Gentle. It made Val want to wrap her queen up in a blanket and make her go inside so she could deal with their unwelcome guests. She stood beside Val at the top of the steps of the palace, provided with a great view of the black sedan that had pulled in through the gates. The flashiest possible way to enter the palace instead of through the underground garage like everyone else.

“Oh no. That’s hardly necessary. They wanted a scene. Let us give them one.”

Not liking the sounds of that at all, her brown eyes flickered over to look at the slim woman with a head of artfully styled strawberry blonde curls, a button nose and rose petal lips. She was every bit as regal as her title, even if she had not a drop of royal blood in her body.

“You can’t think that they actually called the press to say that the Duchess Hope was the woman with His Majesty on the video from the royal banya?”

Sarah’s cool blue gaze flickered to her royal bodyguard before returning back to the sedan so she could observe her former friend climb out, followed by her raven-haired daughter who waved to the photographers on the other side of the iron gates.

That was exactly what Sarah suspected the second she’d seen it in the morning paper. Though she doubted she would ever find out who had started that rumor.

“Have you found out why they’re here?”

Grimacing, Valkyrie shook her head, unhappy to not have an answer for her queen beneath the cloudy chilly winter day. “Not yet Your Majesty. We have reached out to the Maharaja’s Staff and are waiting to hear back. Soon though we suspect.”

Any second now Val hoped her phone would ring so she could tell the queen.

Which led to Sarah turning her head to look away from her guests as they climbed the stairs. She looked away from the large fountain that the sleek luxury car was parked beside and gave her last true smile for what she suspected would be till lunch. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Valkyrie’s wrist. One of her preferred bodyguards. She’d been loyal and had on two occasions nearly given her life in service of her country. “I trust you will find out and inform me as soon as possible. Do not fret. I doubt they will be leaving anytime in the near future.”

Only a lifetime of service kept Val from cracking a smile.

Instead, her dark eyes watched the silver haired Queen of the Netherlands climb the steps towards them. Smiling. Dressed expensively with a heavy coat made from numerous small furry animals.

Queen Janet van Dyne approached as if it hadn’t been years. She came to stand beside Sarah and greet her in such a way that would make for a perfect picture. Or so Sarah noticed. She greeted her as if they were still friends who spoke frequently on the phone and still sent one another gifts. As if their children had married and everything was fine.

“Sarah! How wonderful to see you, you have not aged a day.”

Janet reached out with gloved hands trimmed in mink, leaned forward to place a polite kiss on Sarah’s cheek in greeting and was more than a little surprised when Sarah stepped away. Her own hands remaining clasped in front of her and out of Janet’s. Greeting or otherwise.

“Janet,” was all that came from Sarah’s mouth. A look went from Janet’s coat down to her dress and then shoes, pausing there before coming back up. “Is that the dress you wore to Lizzie’s grandson’s wedding?”

Surprised by the greeting, or lack thereof, Janet paused and then smiled brightly, knowing that though the cameras could not hear them they could capture this image on film. “Yes. We’re focusing on becoming sustainable out in the west. Going green isn’t merely a project meant as royal busywork.”

Sarah could actually feel Valkyrie stiffen beside her at mention of the Green Initiative that Steve had tasked her with and had been far from busywork. It was something that Sarah could go on and on about, one of her many efforts that she busied herself with and yet, she found she didn’t want to expend that much energy on her once friend.

Hands still in front of her, fingers laced together where she could feel her wedding band. Sarah tilted her head slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t know. We remain a governing monarchy here.”

Janet blanched. Her lips formed a straight line, nearly as straight as the way her spine stiffened.

Though Sarah was unable to enjoy it as she turned her attention to the daughter. Hope van Dyne. Formerly Princess Hope but now Duchess Hope, after having been stripped of her title and recently reinstated to a lesser one, in Sarah’s opinion anyway.

Hope looked lovely as ever.

Tanned. Dressed exceptionally well. Smiling exuberantly.

It almost warmed Sarah’s icy heart.

“Sarah! How are you? You look wonderful!” Exclaimed Hope, sounding genuinely thrilled to see the woman who might have been her mother-in-law had things gone differently. She stepped on up with outstretched arms and was greeted with a serene face that looked at her in confusion.

Sarah said nothing. Not a word. Sarah maintained eye contact and looked at Hope as if waiting for the younger woman to say or do something.

Thus leading to Hope blinking in confusion and lowering her arms, looking to her mother for assistance as this clearly was not the welcome she expected.

“Is something wrong,” Hope asked a bit nervously as a winter breeze ruffled the fur on her mother’s coat. Sneaking under the cashmere of her own, as she hadn’t had time to properly shop for winter here. This was her mother’s idea. It was her last hope. Her father had refused to hear her and not even her mother could plead her case this time. This was it.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

Val watched Hope’s confusion and fought hard to not say anything at all, and it was becoming painful to watch in her opinion. Her gaze veered over to all the photographers that were watching more than taking pictures. Even they seemed to realize this visit was not starting off smoothly.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

Val risked a look over at her queen. Her queen who was peering at the young woman who had referred to Val’s people as ‘war criminals’ or ‘superstitious backwoods fools.’

Unable to take another moment of it, Valkyrie cleared her throat.

Finally making Sarah take mercy on Hope who really should have known better in her opinion. “In civilized societies, a duchess would curtsey to a queen. Perhaps things are different for those who are merely ceremonial in purpose.”

***

Someone called your name and for a second, you were terrified that Wanda had come for your ass.

Not that you could blame the best friend you’d had since high school.

Upon heading into the offices of the royal palace that morning, you had intentionally avoided her , secure in the knowledge that she was pissed at you and you really did not want to have the fight you knew was coming someplace public like the office.

So, you’d been groveling via text and promising to go out with her that night for a girls night, swearing on your honor that you would tell her everything! Because Wanda was no fool.

Wanda saw the new dress you had on. Wanda saw your new shoes. Wanda noticed your perfect makeup and styled hair. Wanda also brought up the facts that you’d not been home that night or early morning, as well as the crucial one regarding your flatiron that was still in the bathroom the two of you shared.

Needless to say, you had a lot of explaining to do.

There was no getting around it. You were going to have to tell her about Steve. Sure, you’d swear her to secrecy until everything came out. The palace had made its announcement this morning about King Steven being in a relationship that he would make public soon. A second public statement had come from the Palace PR Guru, Maria Hill, stating that without a doubt, the king was not involved with Duchess Hope after a few rumors had burnt their way through the palace and news cycles.

Besides, Wanda should know. Wanda deserved to know. You and Wanda had come on this adventure post university together. Wanda had to know before it came out in the form of an official palace announcement, or else Wanda might very well skin you alive.

Hearing your name on a female tongue had you snapping up, your attention diverted away from the emails you were checking.

Wanda?

No.

It was not Wanda.

It was an Indian woman in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her dark hair was swept up in a chignon. Her lips a shade of red that had you lowkey thinking about asking for the name and shade of said lipstick. Her dark eyes bore right through you. As if spearing you from your chair and to the wall of your office.

“You are the King’s Chief of Staff?”

While your natural first instinct was to report that was what it said on your door. Professional-you put the kibosh on that right away. Inner you was somewhat intimidated by this powerful woman who looked as if she knew your every last secret.

Head held high this woman so informed you in a tone that let you know she was here for nothing less. “The Maharaja has sent us. Duchess Hope of the Netherlands has stolen from us and is here with the intention of pleading political asylum. While the Maharaja would like nothing more than to have her brought back for trial of the theft of our priceless treasures. I will settle for what was taken and no less.”

Ok. Well. Maybe you thought too soon.

Maybe Wanda was preferrable over this person.

“Oh…goody…” came from your lips with a frown.

“General Odinson sent me here. He told me that you would be able to help resolve this issue for me post haste.”

Oh of course General Fucking Thor Odinson would send this person your way so he didn’t have to deal with this international nightmare of an incident.

Letting out a deep breath, you held up a finger. “Let me just send this out real quick…what’s your name?” And you typed as quickly as humanly possible on your encrypted laptop.

“Ekta. I am with the Maharaja’s Royal Guard.”

Because of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t Hope have stolen from the Maharaja and bounced? Though you’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, you’d heard more than your share about the infamous Duchess, then Princess, Hope.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

“You’ve got any pictures or detailed descriptions of what the items stolen look like? I’m sure His Majesty will be very curious. And, you know, the more information of what we’re looking for the better.”

And done.

With a tap on your laptop, you’d sent out an email to the Finance Minister. Then up you stood.

“Of course,” Ekta answered coolly.

Not that you blamed her. If you were in her shoes, you would have been super pissed off too. Being robbed was never fun.

“Let’s go see if we can track down His Majesty. If not, we’ll make an appointment with his secretary and then go see who is in the office of our Royal Guard. Someone is always in there and I know that Carol, she’s Captain of the Guard, is working right now.” You explained, as if you felt that telling this unhappy woman all these things could somehow make everything right. Probably not. But you still had to try. It was in your nature to fix problems and you most definitely wanted to fix this problem.

Ekta said nothing.

She merely followed you out of your office and into the hallway which was lined with doors and walls of tasteful and probably expensive original art.

You looked to the left.

Then to the right and nearly died then and there at your luck.

How had you gotten so lucky?

There, mere feet away and closing, was not just Carol but His Majesty, deep in discussion about something that was irritating them both.

You had an inkling that you knew what was at the heart of their discussion.

The sight of you made them stop talking and pause in their tracks, which told you that you had been the one that they were seeking.

Before anything could be done, you bowed. “Your Majesty, just the person I was hoping to find.” Up you flourished your hand to gesture at Ekta, who you could feel was beside you, practically putting off rays of righteousness. “We have a visitor from the Maharaja’s Royal Guard. This is Ekta. She is here because of something that concerns the Duchess Hope.”

The reaction that came was almost immediate from both Steve and Carol.

A look as if Steve had suddenly smelled a dead animal came over his face. Carol however cocked her hip to the side, lifted her chin in a dark blue pantsuit, almost demanding in a knowing sort of way. “What’d she steal from you guys? Art or jewelry?”

For the first time ever, you noted a moment of Ekta’s veneer breaking. Like she was taken off balance. “The duchess stole from you too?” Then, almost as an afterthought came, “Your Majesty?”

And this was news to you too.

You had no idea that Hope had taken souvenirs with her that weren’t free to take when she fled the Royal Palace for India all those years ago.

When Steve spoke, his teeth were clearly clenched together. “Yes. Both. She raided my mother’s room as well as the halls for art and pieces that are priceless. Sacred treasures from my countries history that can never be replaced. She filled her suitcase with on her way out.”

“Every now and then an item will appear on the black market. We can only assume that she is selling them when she is in need of money.” Carol helpfully added.

Beside you, you could practically feel Ekta tremble. Shake out of control one could say.

“Is the Duchess Hope here?”

For that you had no answer.

Carol however had one. “Yes. Her Majesty is taking tea out in the gardens with the Duchess Hope and her own mother.”

After being brought abreast of that development, you had a statement to make. One you thought was obvious. But none-the-less, out it came. Maybe none of them knew? “It’s snowing outside.”

Thus leading Steve to turn his attention on you. Finally. And when he did so, he looked at you as if you were only his Chief of Staff. He looked at you kindly without the heat in his eyes from earlier that morning, when he’d woken you up by pushing himself deep into your body until the both of you reached a climax that made your eyes cross and left an impression of his teeth broken into your shoulder.

“Yes. Mother wanted to be sure that the Duchess Hope did not steal anything else from within the palace walls whilst they are here.”

Well then.

Even you had to admit. The Queen Mother could be downright frosty when the occasion called for it. Pun intended.

“She’s having tea with Queen Janet and Duchess Hope outside? In the frigid temperatures?”

You couldn’t quite make yourself believe it. You blinked. You looked from Steve who appeared casual after his statement, like he just told you the winters here were cold. Over to Carol who was pulling out her phone from her pocket. Acting like you hadn’t said anything out of the normal.

“Your Majesty, I’ll take care of Ekta and deal with this issue. If anything arrives concerning this issue. I will contact you. Nakia will come fill my place today.”

If Steve was greatly upset by any of his, he made no outward indication of it other than a nod of his head that he both heard and understood and accepted what Carol had told him. His attention was instead focused on you.

“I have a meeting concerning the Switzerland trip about the proposed embassy. Go get your notes. You’ll be joining me.”

***

Her Grace, the Duchess Hope van Dyne, had finally made it in the palace after that psycho, the Queen Mother Sarah, had the audacity to serve tea in the garden as flakes of snow drifted down. And if that weren’t barbaric enough, afterwards, she then led them around the winter garden as if Hope gave a damn.

Hope had problems and Queen Sarah was not very receptive to any of her attempts to thaw the ice that had formed around Sarah’s heart. Nor did her mother, Janet, have much luck.

When did Sarah turn into such a bitch?

Sarah should have been ecstatic that Hope would even return to this shithole. Sarah’s son was still single, he needed a queen and his backwoods hovel wanted a queen and Hope had royal blood. What more did Sarah need? Did she need it written down?

When did Sarah turn into such a horrible host?

Hope remembered a distinctively different Sarah. When she had lived in this palace, Steve’s mother had coddled her, practically waited on her hand and foot to be sure that Hope was happy and settling in so far from civilization. Where was that Sarah now?

Somehow, Hope had managed to break away, pleading a need to use the powder room around the time her toes and fingers went numb. As she hadn’t had the time to properly shop for clothes to wear in this frigid shithole. India had been so gloriously warm. She’d loved India. Hope would have loved to stay there but things had gone south.

Eventually, like everything else, it’d blow over.

Until then though, she needed someplace safe to stay. She needed to stay somewhere that the Maharaja couldn’t get her. What she needed was diplomatic immunity. However, that wasn’t going to happen since her father refused to even see her, so she’d just have to settle for sovereign immunity. Granted, Hope hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to see Steven and tell him that she was ready to get married now. For crying out loud, he should have been groveling at her feet for her to come back to him. Especially after that sex tape which had been burning up the internet and royal circles. If there was anything that Hope could do, it was bounce back from a scandal.

This was just ridiculous.

The Queen Mother should have been inviting them to this lunch with her son, instead of practically throwing Hope and Janet out. Which was exactly why Hope was wandering the halls in the search for Steven’s office. Toes tingling in her fashionable pumps. Her fingers burning from the warm air in the administrative offices.

Hope would need a whole new wardrobe once she got Steven onboard with her plan. As his current plan of ignoring the sex tape was absurd. These things needed to be tackled head on. With her as his queen by his side, Hope could handle all of it.

Ah, she found herself pleased at the sight of the royal seal over a doorway marking it as the king’s office.

Valkyrie followed her closely. That bitch.

As soon as Hope was queen, she’d be one of the first on the firing block. Following her around like some manner of commoner who might fill their pockets with royal gold. It was absurd. Hope was born a princess and one day she would become one again.

Hope remembered Valkyrie from when she was a young member of the guard and now, she was a Captain and just as irreprehensible as Carol, who Hope also despised. Both of them had to go. Reaching out with a hand that held a ring belonging to the sister of the Maharaja, Hope opened the door and marched right into the office of Steven’s secretary. Who was apparently gone for lunch.

Not that the room was empty.

Nakia, who had been seated on a couch in the office, stood. Dressed in a dark blue suit that all the royal guard wore. Her face stony at the sight of Hope and then darkened further in disgust. She stood tall. Regally. Holding her head high when she spoke down to the former princess. “The king is busy.”

Not that Hope would settle for anything less than seeing Steven in person immediately. She stepped forward. “The king is having lunch with his mother in fifteen minutes. I know for a fact he’s not doing anything of importance. Get out of my way, or I’ll have you selling souvenirs from a cart outside the palace when I am queen.”

At such a statement, Nakia found herself wanting to both laugh and spit in the face of this western woman. One who had referred to her people and country as little more than a backwoods hellhole full of illiterate stone pounders.

How often Nakia had dreamt of being so close to the Duchess Hope, how she thought of ripping out this woman’s forked tongue.

“Let her in,” came Valkyrie’s voice in their native tongue from the eastern regions of the land.

Sending Nakia’s dark eyes past Hope. A knowing expression claimed her features. “His Majesty is in there waiting for our queen.”

A shrug came from the senior guardswoman.

Nakia would be the first to admit, she had not been hopeful when the crown prince had been coronated as a teenager. No one in the country had been particularly hopeful but now, nearly everyone supported their king. His Majesty was a good king who served them all as much as they served him.

Nakia was protective of her king. She wanted her king to marry his Chief of Staff yesterday. Her land was in need of a queen, a woman’s touch one could say.

Knowing what was at stake with the coming lunch that her king would attend with his mother and lover, a visit from the Duchess Hope would not put him in the best of moods. The Queen Mother always grew quiet when King Steven was in such a mood. Why would Nakia allow such a thing to happen?

“Perhaps if he tells her she isn’t wanted here she’ll leave sooner? Let her in. That is an order.”

Pursing her lips unhappily, Nakia stepped back.

She wasn’t about to open the door to His Majesty’s office for this interloper. However, she would no longer stand in the way. Nakia even made sure to send a look that screamed impending homicidal violence. Spurring Hope quickly through the door without another syllable directed at Nakia.

Which was fine with Hope.

Hope couldn’t get away from Nakia quick enough.

Wanting distance sent Hope into the king’s large office without much thought. Looking as if it belonged in an old Victorian estate with dark wood, so many books, old art and thick dark Turkish Rugs.

What Hope did not expect was how much the prince had grown.

No longer a gangly young man whose mother had to have padding sewn into the robes that he was coronated in. This man sitting at his desk was big in every way. Exuding power in a manner that most could only dream and for a second, seeing Steven look at her with shocking blue eyes and stubble darkening his face, she was rendered speechless.

“What do you want Hope,” came Steven’s voice, more than a little annoyed. Far more emotion than she’d ever seen from the young man. Who was now very obviously a man.

This was not the Steven she remembered.

Before her was not the young man she remembered at all. Every last bit of him was very much a king and Hope suddenly, possibly for the first time in her life, found herself regretting many of the past choices she made. It seemed her mother was right. She’d been far too hasty in her youth. Her mother had told her that the prince would mature like a fine wine. Hope had written that off as nonsense meant to trap her into an arranged marriage like so many women before her.

Now?

Now she was looking at a tall powerful man close a very modern looking laptop and turn his attention on her in such a way that made her gut coil. What would it have been like to be the woman in the video? And where the hell did that thought come from? She had been wrong. So so very wrong.

Finally, gathering herself, Hope peered around the office and fussed at the pearl buttons on her coat. “I saw the video…” A noise came from Steven that she’d never heard before, yet, she went on. “…and since we’re still technically engaged, I thought I would return to help you put out the fires of this scandal.”

Another noise came from the king, a derisive snort.

“Wow. That’s cute. Highly amusing coming from you.” Though there was no hint of heat or passion in his words that had been so evident on that video. In her opinion, he didn’t even sound bored. Worse. Steven then leaned back in his seat, peered around her and asked, “Who let you in here?”

Those words, those uncaring words as if she were little more than the two guards outside his office made her burn, bristle.

Which had Hope clearing her throat, bristling one could say. “Actually, it’s more than cute. If you recall, I come from a distinguished royal house. Our engagement is a legally binding agreement.”

For the reaction she got, she might as well have told him it was showing outside.

As she was prone to when there was silence that needed to be filled, Hope pushed the waves of dark hair over her shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other and watched Steven lean back in his chair.

Finally, as if sensing that she wasn’t going to leave, Steve offered her a shrug. Finding the mere sight of her numbing. He could have cared less what she did one way or the other. So long as she stayed out of his room. He had valuable things in there that he was fond of. “I’m not marrying you. Do with that as you will, you’ll find no sanctuary here.”

This was most certainly not the Steven that she had left all those years ago. It took Hope a second to collect herself, to steel herself. No one had spoken to her in such a way in quite a while. Her brain screamed at her that damage control needed to be done but she was not sure how. In what way? What did she say?

Hope’s brain screamed at her that the plan was failing, everything was going wrong. This was not supposed to happen this way and now she was failing horrendously. What did she do? How could she fix this?

Pricks of pain came from her fists as her nails dug into her palms. Telling Hope that when she unclenched her fists, she would see blood. “You have to marry me!”

Oh this was bad.

This was really really bad.

Across the expanse of his desk, Steve remained calm. Almost to the point of uncaring and such demeanor was reflected in his words. In the way his broad shoulders shrugged and how he rubbed his rough cheek, as if that were more interesting.

“I do not need or want your assistance for anything, forget that video. There is no reason for me to be ashamed of it.”

“Steven! Listen!”

He could see the desperation on her face, hear it in her voice and after so long, he wished he could say that it was rewarding. He wished that he could say it made him feel better after everything that had happened.

It didn’t.

There was just nothing. Little more than cold numbness. Steve felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing was there anymore.

When he looked at Hope there was nothingness.

It reminded him of his father. He hated when he felt that way, when he thought of his father. There was no one on this earth that Steve loathed more. It was his very purpose for being, to not be his father. To end that cycle. To let it die with him.

Most irritably, he shifted in his seat. His eyes found the picture of you both on his desk from a trip to Scotland.

Hints of his father swirled with every syllable only furthering his inner revulsion with himself, his genes and heritage.

“When you left, I did not officially break our engagement as a common courtesy to your father. No more no less. I am a king. You cannot compel me to do anything.”

Pools of blue found Hope again though. A little bit of serene malice hovered between them.

“If you continue to be an annoyance, I will. I am a king now. I have a country to govern. I do not have time for the childish games and pursuits that occupy the western families.”

“Steven this is serious! I could go to prison! In India!”

May his ancestors help him, his first initial response would have been to remind her of her place, remind her of how he should be addressed.

His Majesty.

Exactly as his father would, he swore he heard his father’s voice in his ear.

“You have to help me out! I’m begging you! I don’t care about that other woman. You can have all the mistresses you want!”

A peek down at his watch told Steve that he had minutes to wrap this up and go collect you. Minutes. He had minutes to regain his sanity before he saw his mother.

Minutes.

“Steven!”

Standing from his chair, he shook his head. Doing his best to silence the sound of his father telling him he was not good enough, was not worthy, was not fit to rule. His voice was soft because Steve would not yell like that man. “No Hope. I’m sorry, but no. You remind me of my father. You make me feel like him. You bring him back to life and I cannot live with his ghost. So no. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions like the rest of us.”

Her eyes went wild.

Steve could see it and was glad he wasn’t within reach of her. He watched her grab a Fabergé Egg from the end of his desk.

Colorful glass accented in gold with rubies around the middle. It fit in her hand but only just, being the size of an ostrich egg and then it went soaring through the air where it smashed loudly into a wall. Denting the dark wood and shattering. Smashing into dozens and dozens of colorful pieces that fell to the floor.

Having felt the very loss of hope itself, she turned to set her storm on him. “You’ll regret this, Your Majesty.” Before turning and leaving, slamming his office door behind her as hard as possible. Leaving Steve with the sound of his father telling him that he wasn’t worthy.

***

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

It was a question for the ages.

A swipe or two of lipstick always gave you the courage you needed in any occasion. But then again, this was not merely any occasion. This was lunch with your boyfriends mother to officially meet her and get to know her, because you were in a serious committed relationship with her son. Because you loved her son.

Oh, and her son was the king, so there were expectations on that already plus with her being the Queen Mother, that was sorta already an expectation of its own.

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

You wanted to look your best because the Queen Mother always looked immaculate. But you also didn’t want to risk getting lipstick on your teeth. Leading you to peer once more into the bathroom mirror.

No. No lipstick. If you put on lipstick you’d be thinking about your lipstick and you needed to focus on making a good impression.

Otherwise, your makeup looked fabulous. Really. Five stars. Two thumbs up.

This had you stuffing your makeup back into your purse and kinda sorta looking up when the bathroom door opened, shut and was locked. Because really. Why would the door be locking?

In the art deco styled bathroom, Steve’s form was very clear and your eyebrows shot up.

Luckily, you were alone, considering how beyond pissed off he looked. One hundred and ten percent not fit to have lunch with his mother. Not with him in this condition.

You had no idea what happened, but something had happened.

He crossed the red and white marble tiled floor. Walked past the gilded edged stalls and stained-glass doors to where you stood at one of four sinks with bronze fixtures and ornately framed mirrors.

To be honest, it was your favorite bathroom of all time. Your Instagram was full of pictures of this bathroom, selfies in this bathroom, up-close pictures of the stained glass.

“Are you ok?”

Beneath his smoothly shaven face, his jaw twitched. “Fine. Are you ready?”

He was tense enough you wouldn’t have been shocked if his joints started to pop, or his teeth cracked from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Seeing him like this was a no go for Queen Sarah. Everyone knew that she hated to see her son like this and at first you never knew why, not until someone had told you that her husband had the same mannerisms. Steve’s father done the same thing when he had been angry.

While it was common knowledge that Steve was not his father, Steve would never hit his mother.

Some memories could just never be wiped clean.

Having Steve like this was not how you wanted this first lunch with his mother to go. Not one bit. Both of them needed to be on cloud fucking nine. Meaning you were going to have to do something.

“Almost,” was what you told him. A plan already set into motion as you grabbed a few paper towels from the bronze dish that held them between sinks.

One last peek at your hair and you were set. Purse in hand. You stepped on over to press your lips to the flat firm line that was Steve’s mouth. “Could you hold this for me?”

Steve never questioned you or thought twice.

Whether it was from love or trust, or he was too angry over whatever? No one would ever know.

But you seized the moment! Pounced on the opportunity.

You acted as if you were going to check your pumps and instead, set down the paper towels so you could kneel at his feet. Before Steve even had a second to think about it, you had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down around his knees. Knowing that the king went commando that morning worked seamlessly into your plan.

His dick hung softly between his muscular creamy thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my purse with both hands, Your Majesty.”

Though soft, his size was still above average. His penis was solid. Thick. A pink tip peeked out beneath foreskin that was stretched over his member. Soft as velvet, you kissed his slit as you pushed his foreskin up to reveal his shaft.

“Remember the first time I ever saw your dick?”

You sank down on his soft flesh after, sucking him in till nearly all of him fit in your mouth. It rarely happened. Only when he wasn’t erect. When Steve was erect, it wasn’t physically possible unless you unhinged your jaw and didn’t have a gag reflex.

“Oh god…” he gasped out at the warm and wet sensation of your mouth closing around him. Cold air on his ass cheeks. Exposed. Vulnerable. His sac hanging heavy and you down on your knees, taking nearly all of him in your mouth.

Steve clung to your purse like a lifeline.

Thinking back, you hummed out thoughtfully, knowing how fantastic the vibrations felt on him. Knowing that the warm softness that was his dick would soon harden. Until then, you enjoyed how you could take him like this. You relished the smell of him, musky and male. Savored how smooth his skin was on your tongue. Reached up and cupped his testicles that hung down for you.

It’d been at a fundraiser.

A black-tie affair for something or another, who could remember?

The two of you had stolen away towards the end, snuck off when everyone was mingling together and socializing. Slightly tipsy or buzzed from the open bar.

Not the two of you.

No.

Both of you had barely drank. Focused instead on getting away so you could steal some moments together. Moments like these. Moments where your hands were all over one another, your mouths hungry for one another. Frantic for that connection between your bodies that nature demanded and you both were trying so hard to make happen.

Tonight was the night though.

You were determined.

Sucking him deep. Swirling your tongue around him. You could feel Steve starting to thicken up which had you popping off his mouth and surveying the sight of his dick taking on a pinkish hue as blood filled it.

“Are you thinking about it, Your Majesty? About how fucking big your cock is? About how it shocked me? Remember?”

Based alone on the sound that came from Steve, you could deduce that he remembered. Possibly even vividly.

“I remember,” you cooed, licking his pink head and suckling on the end of his dick. Flicking against the hole with your tongue. Massaging his balls. Taking his hardening shaft in your other hand. Needing him to feel only you. Needing him to be here with you. “It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life.”

”You don’t have to.” He had whispered to you in a dark corner of the atrium. Hidden by plants and furniture.

Not that you’d cared.

By that point he had gone down on your countless times and you’d never seen it. Only feeling it through his pants when you’d made-out or groped him, when your bodies rubbed against one another in a frantic urge for completion.

“Jesus Christ Steve! You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his dick sucked.”

“It’s not that…” he came back with, pausing and finally giving in, allowing you to unzip the black pants of his tux and yank them down. Pull them down and out it popped.

Erect.

Hard. So hard.

Foreskin drawn back to reveal an angry red head smeared with pre-cum.

It was massive, a beast, the hugest dick you’d ever laid eyes on and from on your knees, in a ballgown, made up to feel like a princess. You gasped. You straight up gasped like you were a teenage girl seeing your very first penis. Albeit, the one that was so full of blood it bobbed eye level with you, pointing upwards, was considerably more impressive and probably five inches longer than that first ever dick, easy. As you didn’t exactly have a tape measure on you for comparison.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, well aware that your eyes were wide and mouth was very likely a perfect O. “It’s so big! It’s like the biggest I’ve ever seen! Steve your dick is huge! What do you feed it?”

His voice was a bit concerned. Embarrassed even?

Was he embarrassed about this behemoth in his pants?

“I’m sorry, I know. It can be uncomfortable to give me oral sex. You really don’t have to. I don’t expect.”

But you had cut him off with grabby hands wrapping around his erection, pushing up his foreskin and licking the salty jizz that was starting to ooze out. “Shut up, Your Majesty. Tell me how you want it.” In your ministrations you had lifted up his generous manhood and set eyes upon the heavy balls that hung down between his thighs. “Holy Canada! You have a set of balls to match. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have fitting those in my mouth.”

When you finally ripped your eyes away from his sexual organ, you shook your head and admonished him severely. “I cannot believe you’d keep this from me!”

Exactly how you knew Steve liked, you sucked on his head and played with the tip of your tongue on his hole. You took him as deep as you could as his erection grew harder and harder in your mouth. Tracing your tongue along the sides and pumping him with your hand until his girth grew so wide, you were unable to touch your fingertips around him.

Up and down you sank on his cock. Till he was rigid beneath your lips and you drug your teeth along at times to heighten the sensation.

Slurping. Squeezing his balls. Hollowing out your cheeks and swallowing any salty release that began to dribble out. You savored the sight of his fingers clenching your purse tightly and his eyes screwed shut.

Between languid trips up and down his length, you pulled off to lick his blunt tip with the flat of your tongue.

“What are you thinking about, My King?”

At first, you didn’t think he would or could answer, which was fine. Your attention was on the round edge of his organ. Licking it. Flicking it with your tongue. Playing with it till you sank back down.

After a few seconds.

After a deep breath from Steve.

After that, he managed to get out.

“Thinking about that night. The night I took your maidenhead.”

Your maidenhead?

Well, that was a trip to past. It sent your eyes up and your mouth back off him so you could speak without a mouth full of dick. “Mmm. Thinking about how you went crazy? How you went all feral and popped my cherry?”

In your hand his penis twitched.

It was too perfect an opportunity to not pounce upon it.

If you couldn’t make him come from saying these filthy disgusting true things to him, did you really deserve to marry this man? “Your Majesty? Does it turn you on to think about my having been a virgin? About how you’re the only man to ever be in my body? Do you remember how tight I was? How hard you had to push to break my hymen?”

Little motions came from Steve. Whether he knew it or not. He was making small thrusts into your mouth that you hummed around, sucked on.

Something hit the floor.

Hands were on your head, fingers were in your hair. A wicked smile curled over your lips and Steve was methodically pumping into your mouth.

He sounded strained. He sounded like he was in pain.

“Felt so good. You’re so good to me. My angel. You were so tight.” He declared, announced, would have shouted to the heavens if he was capable. Each word came out in cadence. Almost in a chant. “Felt so good. Feels so good still. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” On top of feeling you sucking him deep. Paired with your fingers holding his testicles tight. Mixed with your fist wrapped around his base. It was a glorious storm coming together to make him shatter.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come like right now.

It sent his thoughts spiraling along with his words.

“Love you. Love your body. Love being in you. So warm and tight and mine. All mine. All of you is mine. Want you. Want to fill you. Want want want.”

Gasping out. His breath gone. All air left his lungs when Steve climaxed into your mouth. A pitched noise did come that was followed with his fingers pulling your face against him, his pelvis pushing into you. A moan that made him weak in the knees followed that told him you were pleased with him. You were happy.

If he died in the next moment, he would have been a happy man.

All Steve could feel was pleasure. It consumed him body. It whited out his mind. It made his balls empty into the warmth of your mouth, till he was certain that nothing remained.

Even then you weren’t done.

Helpless. Awestruck.

Hopelessly devoted, Steve watched you drag your tongue around him to clean him up. Catching the last few spurts of ejaculate on your tongue before you showed him, then swallowed his seed.

Rendering him panting and sweaty.

He dropped down onto his knees and he kissed you. Mindless. Unable to think about anything else other than your mouth and being lucky enough to have convinced you to be his woman. Steve kissed you deeply, uncaring about the fact he could taste himself, unconcerned when his tongue curled around yours that he might have gotten some of his own ejaculate. His Majesty didn’t care.

Nor was he overly concerned about his knees being on the cold marble tile when he groaned against your mouth. “Love you. Love you so much. Love you to the moon and back.”

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