#160 is a normal day

[rintoki]

genuinely wondering why some players play genshin if not for fun… like it’s literally a game it’s not that serious….

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[hydrodragons]

sparkle making my dan heng hit almost 300k in moc of all places that's NUTS

[peapod20001]

I wonder how many times I’ve googled whether I’m having a panic attack or an anxiety attack...

[neil-gaiman]

I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.

According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.

What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.

The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.

I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.

The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.

So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.

Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.

But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.

I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.

Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.

Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...

[tareqayad]

💔 The Daily Struggle of Survival in Gaza 🍉

With prices skyrocketing up to 20 times their normal rates, life in Gaza has become an unbearable challenge for families like mine. Our family of 13, including 4 children and my brother’s wife, who is 6 months pregnant, is fighting every day to cover the basic costs of survival.

Providing healthy and nutritious food has become nearly impossible in these circumstances. The rising costs of essentials like bread, milk, and vegetables mean that every meal is a struggle. We are doing everything we can, but it’s simply not enough.

🌟 Your support can make a difference. Sharing our story and spreading awareness is a step toward giving families like ours hope for a better tomorrow.

📢 Please share this post to let the world know about the daily hardships of life in Gaza. Together, we can bring attention to those who need it most.

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Note :✏️

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[babushkatty]

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 1

-> Part 2

Your isekai trip (or descension, as others called it) into Teyvat was as abrupt as it was underwhelming.

There were no midnight showers of gold and purple, reminescent of the wishing screen you would religiously open every hour or so, hoping to miraculously have 160 primogems to make another pull. No sudden change in weather as Teyvat welcomed you with the eagerness of a golden lab puppy. No sudden meetings of significant and powerful people (vision holders, archons, adepti or otherwise) that would either scorn you or worship you with the zeal of a fanatic either.

No, it was a very quiet and peaceful affair.

You went to sleep in your bed after another mundane day that was more a blur than a memory, only to wake up in the ruins of Old Mondstadt, on the back of a peacefully sleeping Dvalin -- feeling well rested for what seemed like the first time in years, free of the pain poor sleeping positions and even worse body posture developed into.

Old Mondstadt is so much more beautiful than you remember it being in the game, but it was understandable -- it wasn't a game anymore.

The wind sings the haunting melody of Stormterror's Lair as you simply sit on Dvalin's back for hours, at peace with the world and yourself. You forget entirely about the stress of assignments, of deadlines, of examinations stacked unto one another like a house of cards, of trying to fit expectations of your friends and family that you were never made to fit and simply let yourself be.

You breathe.

It was nice.

"All-Mother." Dvalin rumbles from underneath you and it breaks the blissfull trance. He turns his head to look at you, seemingly not minding you being completely sprawled out on his back like roadkill.

"I'm sorry, Dvalin, I think you mistook me for someone." You smile sheppishly.

He huffs, but instead of sounding annoyed he just seemed... Indulgent. It was a good sign to you, who were pretty much at his mercy -- if he wanted to, he could use you as his personal toothpick and you wouldn't be able to do anything against it at all, so it's for the best that the situation doesn't escalate like that.

Then again, Venti did say Dvalin was a gentle child. You didn't see any blood clot crystals on his neck or back, so you were probably in the clear. Worst case scenario, he'd dump you on the ground and you'd have a bruised tailbone.

He made a damn good bed though, you wouldn't mind lounging on him some more if he allowed it.

"You are the All-Mother, there is no mistake. But it is only natural to deny, you do not remember."

He brings his head back and nuzzles you. You quietly melt into a puddle of happiness as he purrs and rubs against you like an overgrown cat.

He was so soft it was criminal. It was like the 'if evil why hot' trend all over again, except this time it was 'if scary why soft' instead.

"Teyvat will remember for you, even when you do not. Your kindness, your warmth, your care - all shall be paid back in full and more, for you are the All-Mother and like any mother, mortal or otherwise, you deserve to be taken care of by your children."

You don't argue, if only because dragons are known for being stubborn. The atmosphere was too nice to waste on a petty argument.

"Do you know how I got here?" you ask instead.

You don't ask about the way back quite yet. You're not sure you ever would, if you were being honest. It just... Felt right to be here, in Teyvat, instead of back home.

In the back of your mind, you quietly wonder if you should feel guilty about not being attached to your old world, to your friends and family, all that much, but you dismiss the notion quickly. Feeling different than what you were taught was normal wasn't wrong, people were different from one another and trying to hold yourself to an impossible standard just because it was the average would only make you miserable.

Your world was slowly growing more accepting towards differences, perhaps in a few decades your emotional stance would be validated as well.

"Teyvat brough you here, that is all I know."

Dvalin huffs against you and you chuckle, a little ticklish.

You both fall silent after that and simple enjoy each other's presence and the ambience of Old Mondstadt.

Dvalin's willingness to simply be, without chatter or interaction, only made your resolve to stay stronger. No one back home understood your need to simply be in a room with another presence, both people doing their own things, everyone called you odd for it.

It was really nice.

"Call me (Name)."

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

I'm bad at naming things and I'm bad at tumblr - perfect combination!

It's a gender-neutral post/series (if I write more), I promise! (Or at least I'm trying my best to write it as gender-neutral, you have full permission to yell at me if I slip up so that I can fix it!)

The term "All-Morher" is not meant to assign a gender, it's meant to compare the Creator of Teyvat to a mother (as I tried to clarify with Dvalin), because mothers bring life into the world and the Creator brought life to Teyvat.

You know, like a mother.

Besides, gods are above something as silly as gender or race *gesturing wildly to Loki giving birth to an 8-legged horse*

I am aiming for a very soft and gentle AU, the terms Creator or Your Grace didn't fit into it at all! Teyvat knows its' All-Mother is an utter softie that doesn't care for religious worship and would rather chill, so its' adjusting to fulfill those preferences -- hence, no grand entrance, no throwing its' All-Mother into the deep end by parking their ass in front of Mondstadt gates and no scrambling to survive.

Just a nice, quiet day chilling with Dvalin.

Fun fact, I have never done the Sumeru Quest and I don't have the space for Fontaine, so that's gonna remain a thing for a long, long while yet.

I don't read the manga either.

We D'ballin, ✨who needs lore accuracy anyways✨

That being said, I am slowly going insane because of the windows in-between subjects at Uni. Who made that a thing? I just want to talk, I promise.

Yell at my bad english, I'm an english major so all yelling is appreciated.

[weirdo09]

estas bien, mami?(gn)

a miles g/prowler! miles x reader

requested by anonymous

warnings:

teasing to the point of short term periods of not eating

slight eating disorder

possibly sensitive topics

tooth rotting fluff

annoying brothers

any of these seems uninteresting to you, don’t read.

you know how your younger brother can say stupid shit at times but you really didn’t think it affected you until that day. every now and then, you’d get little comments from your brother like “oh, she’s eatin’ again? fattie.” or “why do you eat up all the food?” it didn’t really effect you, all it did was annoy you but as it persisted, the more you started to wonder if he was actually right.

the first time he ever said anything was at a cookout with your extended family in georgia. you were on your second plate of food when you heard him and your boy cousins snicker bout how much you were eating. “look, watch out! y/n’s gonna leave us hungry with the way she’s eatin’!” they said, you just rolled your eyes and went to sit with your other cousins. it was nothing but a harmless joke at the time.

the second time was when you and him were at the dinner table. “you sure you wanna eat all that? i mean, you look pretty big already.” he whispered past you, getting his fill on mac n cheese and chicken. you huffed and put up the finger, your momma scolded you and sent you upstairs to finish your dinner. “estúpido.” you said under your breathe, that you learned from miles. (y’all aren’t dating officially yet) that night, you didn’t eat as much as you normally did but it wasn’t like anyone would notice, right?

the third time was when you two were over a friend’s house, your momma forced you to bring your brother over for ‘quality time’ or some shit. as you left downstairs to eat, he popped up, snickering with your friend’s brother. “look at the hippo!” they squealed, unfortunately your friend and her mom barely heard so your mood was officially ruined for the rest of the night. you eat a moderate size amount of food and you would soon suffer the consequences for your stomach growled most of the time there.

the fourth and final time before the ‘day’, was the day after getting back from your friend’s house. you didn’t even bother getting breakfast not like your family cared, apparently. you went down for lunch and got a apple while your brother was staring at you.

“all for today, hippo?” he asked, you nodded and ran up the stairs. you walked over to the bathroom, you decided to weigh yourself just out of curiosity. surprisingly, you lost 20-25 pounds in the last week. the last time you weighted yourself, you were 199 lbs. you thought about going lower, maybe then he would stop picking on you. so you decided you go down to 160, losing 39 pounds was easy.

as the weeks passed, you were getting slimmer and slimmer. you smiled at the console of getting skinny, you weren’t an ideal type for boys. maybe then they’d start to notice you. your mom also made quick remarks about your unknown weight loss and about how she was so proud that you stopped eating as much. you weighted yourself and saw that you slimmed down to 146.

‘yes!’ you thought, you were finally perfect. or should you go lower? ‘do it, y/n.. you know you want to..’ a voice said creepily, you shivered. you got off the scale and made way to your room. that was a strange thought but you managed to look past it. you thought about it for hours, it was slowly eating away at you. 1-2 weeks later, you were down 130. you felt tired but happy.

after that, you were getting more and more exhausted. simple tasks began to take a toll on you. one day, ‘the day’, you went on the scale and passed out. you woke up, laying on the bathroom floor. you tried to get up but you were too tired. then you thought about calling miles, ‘he wouldn’t want to see you… not when you look so ugly, so disgusting… you should be ashamed..’ the voice said again.

going against it, you rang up miles. “què pasa, mami?” he asked, you sighed deeply. “nothin, could y-y-you come over? i wanna see you.” you said, gasping for air. “alrigh’, ma, hang on tight.” he said, hanging up. you passed out again.

“hey, mrs. [last name], you do know where y/n is?” miles asked, the lady shook her head. “maybe try in her room?” she suggested, he thanked her. he walked up the stairs and made way to your bedroom before he saw the bathroom door open with you lying on the floor. miles stared in concern and walked towards you. “mami? puedes oírme?” miles asked, shaking your body for a response. “nnghhh…” you groaned, “stop shaking me!” you said in annoyance, miles pulled you into a hug.

“ma, estás viva!” miles exclaimed, holding you close and smiling down at you. “yeah? i’m fine, miles.” you said, staying in his hold a little longer before attempting to get up. you fell before miles caught you. “estas bien, mami?” miles asked, worried. you looked down at your body and began to tear up, “no, miles, no, i’m not ok..” you whispered, miles picked you bridal style and walked downstairs.

gladly, there was no one there to stop him from taking you to his house because best believe he would fight if he had to. you hid in his chest most of the way there. once you got there, miles made way to his room and closed the door with his foot. he placed you down on his bed.

“mind tellin me why i found you on the floor passed out?” he asked, staring into your eyes. “i just tryna ‘ose a few pounds, ‘s all..” you mumbled, miles frowned. “mila, mi vida,” he began to say, getting down on his knees to hold your hands. “eres tan hermosa, mi niña bonita.” he finished, kissing up your arms to your lips. it was short and sweet.

you started to tear up again, miles frowned deeply. “ah, mami, no lloles, pol favol, odio verte molesto…” he said, rocking you in his arms. the two of you ended up cuddling, miles hummed a song softly to you while tracing your face. you lied against him, content. “who said that you needed to lose weight?” miles asked, his demeanor changing slightly though he still traced your face with his finger.

“uhm, no one-.” you began to say when miles shot you a “tell me the truth or i’ll fight a random nigga” look. you sighed, “my brother..” you spat out, miles stopped tracing your face to look at you properly. “and my mom, a bit.” you confessed, miles’ usual warm hazel eyes turned cold. “you’re with me for a few days, mami, ok?” he said, though it sounded more of a command. you nodded, rio’s cooking was amazing. “good..” miles whispered, kissing your cheek. you cheesed softly. “estás a salvo conmigo, niña..” he whispered in your ear, him speaking spanish always made you fall head over heels.

translations-

què pasa, mami? - what’s up, mommy?

mami? puedes oírme? - mommy? can you hear me?

ma, estás vivas! - ma, you’re alive!

estás bien, mami? - are you ok, mommy?

mira, mi vida - look, my life

eres tan hermosa, mi niña bonita - you are so beautiful, my pretty girl

ah, mami, no llores, por favor, odio verte molesto.. - ah, mommy, please don’t cry, i hate to see you upset..

estás a salvo conmigo, niña.. - you’re safe with me, baby girl

[strawberymilkshake]

🍰 A bit about myself 🍓

To be honest with you all i was 220lbs back in 2019 and lost all of it by ⭐️ing myself all day (sometimes multiple days) and my lowest weight was 145 but im back up to 160 ever since i got into a relationship :( im trying to be back to at least 145 but my ultimate goal is 135 without gaining it back and hoping to maybe even try to go back to eating normally and healthy (slowly ofc so i dont gain it again 😶) after i lose it. I like to go to the gym and have also been trying to tone myself up a bit. When I’m not at the gym I’m usually watching tv, reading, sleeping, playing video games, or playing with my recent gsd puppy ❤️. Im looking to slim down some excess fat a little bit everywhere and hopefully maintain at least some of the muscle ive gotten over the past few months. It finally hit me how much weight I’ve gained back since my Lw once i hit 160 and decided i need to change. Doing it the right way never worked for me because no matter what i did i wouldn’t lose the weight quick enough and it was nearly impossible due to my past with 4na. Im hoping to be back to about 145 by the end of the year.

Stats:

Cw:160lb

Hw:220lb

Lw:145lb

Ugw:135lb

Ht:5’8

I hope to look into other peoples thoughts here, get inspiration, and possibly get some mutuals :) ❤️

[allfryam]

weight gain drive story

Shane had always coasted through life on his good looks. He was a popular football player in high school, and he somehow avoided the freshman 15 in college. His life was perfect until his girlfriend of 3 years, Ashley, broke up with him out of nowhere. It broke Shane. He didn’t come out of his room for a week, and he spent most of his days crying in bed.

but Shane quickly recovered and hopped back into his normal life. He wasn’t one to just leave a relationship though. He had to make Ashley jealous. He started going to the gym every single day. He always thought he was a little skinny and wished he was bigger. He was talking about it on the phone with one of his buddies when a strange man overheard him. “You tryna get big?” The strange man said. “Uhhh… yeah?” Shane replied. “Take this. You’ll be bigger in no time.” He tossed a small bottle to Shane and walked away. Shane examined the bottle. “GET BIGGER EVERY DAY!” Shane was skeptical, but he reluctantly drank the liquid and tossed the bottle.

Shane took note of his starting weight. 155 pounds. He looked at himself in the mirror. “Hopefully this junk works.” He said to himself. the next morning, Shane rushed to the bathroom to weigh himself. 156 pounds. That shit only made him gain a pound. What a waste. He went about his week like normal until 4 days later. He checked his weight to see 160 pounds. Huh. A pound a day? That was a lot faster that he normally gained weight. He looked at himself in the mirror to see his midsection growing ever so slightly. There was just a thin layer of softness that was beginning to cover his abs. Shane didn’t notice however. He saw his arms getting slightly wider and he was ecstatic. He was finally starting to gain some real muscle.

a week had passed, and Shane was still gaining exactly one pound a day. He was up 13 pounds from his starting weight, and his friends started to notice. “Yo. Lay off the ice cream, tubby” his friend mark commented. Shane looked down to see that his gym shirt didn’t quite cover his belly all the way. There was a small but noticeable layer of pudge peeking out of his shirt. His face got red and he tugged his shirt down. “Maybe I should stick to the weight im at now.” He thought to himself. But the weight kept coming. Exactly one pound a day. 169. 170. 171. 172. It kept climbing. Shane was starting to get worried. How long would this spell last? Would he continue to gain weight forever? Shane was frightened, but looking in the mirror, he had never looked stronger.

after the first month, Shane was up 30 pounds. He hit 185 in no time. Sweatpants were all that fit over his round butt, and he wore hoodies to try and conceal his growing belly. That didn’t really help though. Mark was constantly making fun of his friend’s weight gain and poking Shane’s belly. Shane would even try to stop eating for a day, but the weight still climbed. Shane was ready to give up. What’s the point of eating healthy if you’re going to gain weight anyway? Shane decided to treat himself by eating whatever he wanted from now on.

after two months, Shane was ahead of schedule. He was supposed to be up 60 pounds, but when he stepped on the scale, he was up 70! He was still gaining a pound a day, but all of the pizza and ice cream he was eating was also making him even fatter. Shane almost didn’t recognize himself anymore. He had a double chin, his pecs began to melt and get saggy, his toned arms grew larger and softer. But his stomach was the worst of all. It was like having a beach ball under your shirt at all times. Not even his baggiest hoodies could contain the mass of his gut.

after 100 days, Shane was up 139 pounds. He almost hit 300! He was at 294. The spell seemed like it finally wore off, but what had Shane done to himself. His belly was huge! It hung over his tight pants and bursted through the buttons on his shirts. Shane’s entire body jiggled with each step, and he was constantly out of breath. But his arms were huge. He looked like he could lift a truck with his pinky. Shane decided the belly was a sacrifice he was willing to make to keep these bear arms.

thank you to everyone who participated in the weight gain drive! I had a lot of fun making it and I hope you have fun reading it. I may do more like this in the future so stay tuned. I hope everyone has a merry Christmas!

[mr2swap]

A long Thanksgiving Day with grandpa

Fuuck! How long until the end of the damn day? I hate Thanksgiving, I always knew I was too good for this family, They all always laughed when I said I wanted a DNA test for Christmas because there was no way I could have the same type of blood running through my veins as those pigs that are eating as if the world was going to end tomorrow everyone laughed… except for grandfather it seemed that out of everyone in the family he was the only one who understood what I wanted to say.

When he came of age I ran out of the house I couldn't bear to be with them another day We lived in a small apartment in the poor part of the city I was an only child But even so I had to share a room with Grandpa John, a bald man of more than 100 kilos, his cheeks were swollen from all the extra fat, but he hid his double chin with that mustache and that almost white beard over the years, that old man lived like a parasite of our family since I was born, maybe if he moved his ass and got a job my parents would have bought me better clothes or the latest iPhone, the only time he would move his ass off the couch was at Christmas to be mall Santa.

My room The smell of my room was disgusting in a mixture of the old man's scent and my sweaty gym clothes, But what made him the worst roommate in the world was his pajamas his old yellow underpants that were once white On top of that he wouldn't let me sleep because of his grotesque snores that could only be heard in my room And my parents will be a happy couple, My mother was a housewife and used to cook the greasiest and most delicious meals in the whole neighborhood and my father was a boring accountant addict to the smell of the cigarette just like the grandfather.

I was the complete opposite of my family, I was much taller, much more handsome, and of course athletic. I would do anything to get out of my house and get away from my obese family, even joining a gym when I was 12 years old to spend 3 hours a day exercising Over time I began to notice results in my appearance Over the years I became a Fitness influencer, I got a couple of tattoos, bought a red sports car, and got the hell out of my house the first chance I got.

For some years I was living my life as far away from my family as possible, I stopped calling home even when my mother did not stop calling me for a single day, I only returned home for a month for these dates, the rest of the year I used to have hot tub parties with gorgeous supermodels, but now…I'm stuck here again, only this time my chains aren't my age…well sort of.

I was sick of this I was sick of pretending everything is normal But I had to get on with this if I wanted my body back, it hasn't even been 24 hours since I woke up this morning to my grandpa's obese old body next to my bed I thought I was dreaming when the first thing I saw when I looked down was a substantial misshapen hairy belly instead of a huge morning boner between my legs, everything in the distance was blurry, but I could clearly see my 2 huge tits full of fat.

Furthermore, I panicked and with my fat and old hands, I sat on the bed and looked around for an explanation of why I was now in my grandfather's body of 80 years and 160 kilos, with my calloused hands I caressed my hairy belly trying to calm down. Feeling like screaming, I looked around to see if this was my room. But before I had a heart attack trying to stand up, Grandpa John walked into the room in my body.

He put my glasses on and for the first time I saw that face from a more humble perspective, We were silent for a couple of minutes, and we both looked at each other from top to bottom, His look was intimidating, and his body was incredibly hot, years in the gym they were in that body, I built that body since I was a chubby teenager and now… I felt uncomfortable around it.

I used to have all of that, perfect curls, those huge, arrogantly flaunting biceps that I dyed in ink on a night out with my friends, he was just too perfect, handsome, and young... or maybe now my self-esteem was in the ground now that I was in the grandfather's body

He was the first to speak, and surprisingly he had completely dominated my way of speaking, moving, and even how to flirt, with his strong and melodious voice he explained to me what a horrible grandson and horrible son I am to the whole family so he decided to punish me, Now I'll have to live like a fucking old man until next year!

-Grand-... Jackson, Mama is calling you, it's time for dinner- I still had to get used to my new harsh voice and having to walk carrying Grandpa's huge belly.

-Tell him I'm coming... I hope there's something I can eat, don't worry Jackson I'm not going to ruin your body eating all that garbage that you should love now, you have something very good here, but surely you're hungry right? old man- He never stopped smiling while we talked, showing those white teeth that one of my sponsors had paid for.

He was right, I was hungry, the smell of Thanksgiving dinner had been driving me crazy since morning, and I'd had to content myself with a big packet of chips and a couple of cans of beer while watching football with my Father…maybe if I am part of this family, but I would have more than a month to find out.

Hey! Happy TG! if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

[xieliansbignaturals]

PSA: It's normal for fics to only/mostly get comments when they're first posted! I've been posting fics on AO3 for several years, and the pattern is consistent: a bunch of kudos and some comments over the first few days, and then it slows down to a trickle of kudos and rarely any comments at all.

Let's look at one of my fics on an old account. It has close to 2,000 kudos as of today, and every comment is positive. Obviously, lots of people think this fic is great! Now, let's look at how the kudos/comment ratio plays out over time.

Over the first 2 days after posting this fic, I received about 200 kudos on it. I also received 8 comments. That is about 25 kudos per comment.

Over the next 9 days after that, I received about 200 more kudos. I also received 5 more comments. That is about 40 kudos per comment.

Over the next 4 years after that (there's no easy way to break it up further), I received about 1,600 more kudos. I also received 10 more comments. That is about 160 kudos per comment.

As you can see, people were about six times as likely to leave a comment with their kudos in the first two days after this fic was posted, versus leaving a comment once the fic was "old". This is just one example, but I've posted many fics over the years and it's very consistent: people might comment if they see a fic when you first post it, but if they see it later, they mostly just stick to the kudos button. It's obvious that they're reading the fic and enjoying it enough to let you know they appreciate it... but for whatever reason, they avoid the comment box.

Now, is this how it should be? No!! If you're reading this, please take this as your encouragement to leave comments regardless of the age of the fic. AO3 is not Instagram. Authors love getting comments, and if for some reason someone doesn't, AO3 gives us lots of ways to deal with that, including completely turning off the comment section. If the comment box is there, please take that as an request to leave a nice comment, no matter how old the fic is (yes, even if it's THAT old). Here is a great post that can help guide you.

But if you as an author are not getting comments anymore on your old fics, you're not doing anything wrong. That's just how it goes.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

The Static Between Us~

RadioApple + Static 🍃Voyerism 🍃Omega!Alastor /Alpha!Lucifer

🍃Explicit🍃Vox Cucking ~ 4.8k

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! Thanks for 160 follows, 2.5k likes on Tumblr...and holy shit 27k reads on Ao3!!! Have some crack/smut to celebrate with me XD

🍃🍃🍃

The sleek drone hummed almost imperceptibly as Vox guided it through Hell's smog-choked skies.

His screen flickered with anticipation, cyan teeth bared in a grin as the newly remodeled Hazbin Hotel came into view.

"Let's see what you're up to, old pal," Vox purred, his clawed fingers dancing across the controls.

The drone glided silently over the hotel's new rooftop gardens, a stark contrast of lush greenery against Hell's desolate landscape.

Vox's pupils contracted as he spotted his targets.

Alastor and Lucifer were strolling among the foliage.

Alastor's crimson hair gleamed in the hellish light, his ever-present smile a mask of amusement as he kept his hands folded neatly at the small of his back.

Beside him, Lucifer's smaller frame radiated power—as much as it echoed frustration with every gesture of his blackened hands. .

“What do we have here?" Vox mused, zooming in on the pair. "A lover's quarrel?"

He strained to hear their conversation, cursing the limitations of even his most advanced technology. He reached for a dial, tunning away.

"Just wait," Vox muttered, his screen crackling. "One of these days, I'll catch you slipping, Alastor. And when I do…" He trailed off, lost in visions of finally besting his rival.

Alastor's body language spoke volumes, however—the tilt of his antlers, the sharp gestures of his gloved hands. Classic Radio Demon needling.

"I'm telling you, the color scheme is fine!" Lucifer's shrill voice carried through the audio feed. "The pink would be perfectly fine if you weren’t always covering it in blood splatters!"

Alastor's static-laced chuckle grated on Vox's nerves.

"My dear, I believe you're overthinking this. The sinners won't care about aesthetics when they're being tortured."

“Alastor,” Lucifer huffed, rubbing at his temples with the long fingers of his right hand. “They’re not being tormented, they’re being redeemed.”

“I fail to see the distinction.” The Radio Demon said brightly.

Alastor’s permanent grin was etched onto his face as always, but his usually relaxed posture was now tense. His ears flicking constantly with irritation.

Next to him, Lucifer's normally suave demeanor was replaced with an obvious groan of frustration.

They were a pressure cooker about to pop.

As he watched, a pang of something uncomfortably close to jealousy twisted in Vox's gut. He pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the potential for chaos unfolding before him.

Vox's screen flickered with desire and disdain as he manipulated the drone's camera, panning slowly down Alastor's lithe form.

Even fully clothed from neck to wrist to ankle, the Radio Demon's silhouette was maddeningly seductive. The crimson pinstripe suit hugged Alastor's slim waist, flaring slightly at his hips before tapering down long legs.

Hiding the soft curves of an omega’s body beneath sharp angles and layers of fine fabric.

"Damn you," Vox muttered, his teeth gritting in frustration. "Why do you have to look so good?"

He zoomed in, capturing the subtle sway of Alastor's hips as he walked.

The Radio Demon's backside was pert, perfectly small in his mind. He imagined gripping those hips, claiming that body, making the omega writhe—until his circuits buzzed with want.

The TV demon's fingers twitched and Vox refocused on the conversation unfolding before him.

"And the plumbing is atrocious," Alastor's voice crackled through the feed. "Really, sire, one would think the King of Hell could conjure better pipes."

Lucifer's face tinged gold with a flush. "Don't push me, Alastor. You’ve treading on thin ice."

Vox leaned closer. What was that supposed to mean?

“Treading?” Alastor's grin widened. "My dear, I’ve been tap-dancing on it." He leaned down to the angel’s level. “You’ve simply failed to crack, yet.”

"Last warning," Lucifer growled. "Red light. Quit while you’re behind."

Red light? What kind of threat was that?

On screen, Alastor's ear twitched, his head tilting in a coquettish manner that Vox had never seen before.

There was something in Lucifer's posture, a coiled tension that spoke of barely restrained power.

Alastor's laugh rang out, sharp and challenging. "Make me, your majesty.”

“You asked for it!”

Lucifer's hands shot out, grasping Alastor by the lapels of his precious coat and slamming him against the gnarled trunk of a nearby tree. The impact sent a shower of crimson leaves cascading around them.

"Oh my," Alastor purred, his voice crackling with static. "How terrifying, I’m simply shaking in my boots."

Vox's screen glimmered with excitement, his grin stretching wider than should be possible on his digital face. "Come on, old man," he urged. "Put that pompous asshole in his place."

Lucifer's grip tightened, his knuckles like ash against the deep red of Alastor's coat. "You never know when to stop pushing, do you?" the fallen angel growled, his face inches from Alastor's perpetual, petulant smile.

"Where would be the fun in that?" the omega replied, his tone light and teasing despite his precarious position. "Besides, I do so enjoy seeing your feathers all…ruffled."

Vox's brow furrowed in confusion. He had expected Alastor to fight back, to summon his shadows or at least attempt to break free.

Instead, the Radio Demon seemed almost…relieved?

As he was being tossed around by the devil himself.

On the screen, Lucifer leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that Vox had to strain to hear. "Are you sure you're prepared for the consequences, Bambi?"

Alastor's eyes glinted with mischief, his grin widening impossibly. "Oh, I'm counting on them."

Lucifer yanked Alastor down by his lapels, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss. The action was so sudden and shocking that Vox's digital eyes widening in disbelief.

"What the actual hell?" the TV demon sputtered, his voice glitching as he processed the scene before him.

The kiss was rough, brutal, and anything but loving. Lucifer's hand snaked up to grip Alastor's hair, tugging it sharply as he deepened the kiss. For a moment, the omega seemed to melt into it, his usual rigid posture softening.

But then, just as quickly, Alastor's hands flew up to Lucifer's chest, shoving hard against the angel.

It was like pushing against a stone wall—Lucifer didn't budge an inch, but he did pull back, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Is that all?" Alastor taunted, his voice husky and slightly breathless. "I expected more from the mighty King."

Lucifer's eyes flashed lethally, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, you want more?"

The angel gripped Alastor's shoulders and forced him down. Until the Radio Demon's knees hit the ground with a dull thud.

Vox's excitement intensified, a thrill running through his circuits. "Now that's more like it," he chuckled darkly. "Look at the high and mighty Radio Demon now, on his knees where he belongs."

He watched the devil grab for the demon’s hands in one of his. Lucifer's grip tightened on Alastor's wrists, pinning them roughly against the gnarled bark of the tree.

The fallen angel leaned in, capturing Alastor's lips in another searing kiss. Alastor's eyes widened momentarily before fluttering shut, a soft hum emanating from his throat.

Vox's screen flared in disbelief.

"Since when do you put up with so much mouth to mouth?" he muttered, his voice tinged.

With one hand still restraining Alastor's arms, Lucifer's other hand deftly popped open the buttons of the demon’s shirt collar. "Such a needy little omega," Lucifer purred, his breath hot against Alastor's ear.

"Needy? Al? " Vox scoffed, rolling his digital eyes. “As if.”

Lucifer's lips curled into a smirk. "If you need attention so badly, Bambi, you could just ask."

Alastor's permanent grin widened, an impish glint in his eyes.

"Now where," he drawled, "would be the fun in that?"

Lucifer's hand shot up, gripping one of the Radio Demon’s antlers and yanking his head back. The deer let out a startled gasp, exposing the pallid column of his throat.

Lucifer's gaze fixed on the spot where Alastor's mating gland lay hidden beneath his skin.

"Is he going to…?" Vox leaned forward, his circuits humming with anticipation, half-expecting Lucifer to tear into Alastor's throat for his insolence.

Lucifer's mouth descended on Alastor's exposed neck, lips latching onto the sensitive mating gland.

Vox watched intently, still expecting gore, when suddenly Alastor's ears drooped and a sound escaped him that the TV demon had never heard before—a deep, throaty sigh.

"What the hell?" Vox muttered.

Alastor's eyes fluttered closed, his usual sharp grin melting into an expression of blissful surrender. Another moan vibrated through the air, sending a jolt of surprise through Vox's circuits.

Vox's digital jaw dropped.

He had never, in all their encounters, heard Alastor make a sound like that.

Nights spent tangled in silk sheets, Alastor's lithe body beneath him, cool and unresponsive. The Radio Demon's smile fixed in place, eyes half-lidded with boredom rather than interest. Vox had always assumed Alastor was simply cold, uninterested in physical intimacy beyond using it as a tool for manipulation.

But this... this was different. Alastor's usual rigid control was crumbling, his body arching into Lucifer's touch.

Another moan escaped him, lower this time, almost a purr.

"Since when do you make noises like that, you smug bastard?" Vox muttered, his voice glitching.

He zoomed in closer, drinking in every detail.

Alastor's chest heaved with each ragged breath, a flush creeping up his neck to stain his greyish cheeks. His ears, usually perked and alert, were drooped in capitulation.

And his eyes…Vox had never seen them so dark, pupils blown wide with unmistakable desire.

Lucifer's hand slid lower, teasing at the waistband of Alastor's trousers. The Radio Demon's hips bucked forward, seeking more contact.

A whimper—an actual fucking whimper—fell from Alastor's lips.

Vox's circuits buzzed with arousal and indignation. He remembered countless nights of trying to coax even the slightest reaction from Alastor.

The Radio Demon had always lay there, occasionally offering a sarcastic quip or rolling his eyes.

At best, he'd been a pillow princess. At worst, a corpse in bed.

Vox's gaze snapped back to the screen, drawn by another breathy sound from Alastor. He cursed under his breath, realizing he'd missed a crucial moment while lost in his own thoughts.

"Thank Satan for recording," he muttered, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. Wincing when he realized he was thanking one of the men on the screen.

Vox shook the idea off.

The Radio Demon’s usual sharp tongue seemed to have deserted him, replaced by breathy gasps and needy whines. When Lucifer nipped at his collarbone, Alastor threw his head back with a keening cry that sent shockwaves through Vox's system.

It was so fucking over the top that—the tv demon seized on the realization with both clawed hand hands.

Alastor…had to be acting. Overacting.

He was the manipulative little dandy from Vox’s bed—it must be Lucifer’s ego that needed all this porn star shit.

"You little minx," Vox snarled. "You were holding out on me all this time?"

He watched, transfixed, as Lucifer's hand dipped lower, disappearing between Alastor's legs.

The Radio Demon's reaction was immediate and intense. His back arched off the tree. His antlers scraped against the bark, leaving gouges in the wood.

Lucifer had Alastor pinned against the tree, the Radio Demon's coat and shirt pulled open to reveal a torso marred with a myriad of scars.

Vox's receivers flickered, desire and resentment coursing through him at the sight.

"Not as untouchable as you pretended to be," Vox sneered, watching Lucifer's hand disappear beneath the waistband of Alastor's slacks.

Vox scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Good luck with that, sire. Our prudish deer boy never—"

His words died in his throat as Alastor's head fell back against the tree, a low, staticky moan escaping him.

Vox's circuits nearly short-circuited at the sight.

"He always smacked my hand away if I even tried to get him off!"

Realization dawned on Vox as he watched the way the devil’s wrist moved. He wasn’t stroking at the omega’s cock—he was shoving those fingers inside Alastor.

"Good luck getting him wet, old man," Vox scoffed, his voice laced with bitterness. "Our dear Radio Demon's about as responsive as a dead battery."

Alastor's voice, dripping with disdain, echoed in his mind. "Such an unpleasant chore. But if it'll shut you up for five minutes…”

"Just another performance to stroke a more powerful ego, eh, Alastor?” Vox's grip tightened on the control panel.

The deer demon always seemed to prefer the fighting over the fucking—before and after.

On the screen, Lucifer slowly withdrew his hand from between Alastor's legs.

Vox leaned forward, anticipating the look of bored arrogance on the Radio Demon's face.

Only to see the glisten of omega slick on the fallen angel’s fingers.

Alastor's ears flattened against his head, a rare display of embarrassment that sent a jolt through Vox's system. He watched, transfixed, as Lucifer brought those fingers to his mouth, cleaning them with slow, deliberate swipes of his forked tongue.

Alastor's voice crackled through the drone's speakers, impatient and breathy. "Enough teasing, you insufferable alpha. Hurry up and fuck me already."

Vox's screen quivered violently, a chaotic swirl of jealousy, anger, and a perverse fascination he couldn't ever shake when it came to Alastor.

"Hurry up and get it over with," he mimicked in a mocking tone. "At least that’s familiar."

Lucifer's hands moved to Alastor's trousers, fingers deftly working at the fastenings.

In a sudden flourish, the fallen angel's magnificent white wings unfurled, their span impressive even through the drone's limited view. The feathers, tipped with crimson, created a shimmering curtain around the couple.

"Oh, come on!" Vox groaned to the sky at being denied his peep show.

To his surprise—and Lucifer's—Alastor's voice rang out, clear and commanding despite its underlying breathiness.

"Put those away, would you?" Alastor purred, his grin sharp and hungry. "I want to get my legs around you properly, darling."

Vox's screen crackled with static, his own shocked expression reflected back at him. Since when did Alastor ask for anything in bed?

Lucifer hesitated, confusion evident in the tilt of his head. "But I thought you'd prefer some privacy, my wicked little doe."

Alastor's laugh was dark and rich, sending an involuntary shiver down Vox's non-existent spine. "Privacy? In Hell? How delightfully naïve."

His clawed hands traced down Lucifer's chest. "Now, be a good alpha and do as you're told."

“You’re gonna pay for that one, too, Bambi.” Lucifer's eyes glowed as his own horns extending from his disheveled blonde hair.

“With interest, Darling.” Alastor purred, his voice a static-laced croon.

With a bemused smile, Lucifer complied, his wings folding back and disappearing from view.

Vox found himself leaning even closer to his monitors, arousal and bitter envy coursing through his circuitry.

The rough bark of the ancient tree scraped against Alastor's back, his shirt just hanging off his shoulders, as Lucifer pressed him firmly against its trunk. The radio demon's fingers dug into the wood, leaving deep gouges as his long legs parted, wrapping around Lucifer's smaller frame.

His hooves brushed the ground, but the archangel's supernatural strength kept him effortlessly pinned.

A sharp gasp escaped Alastor as Lucifer snapped his hips forward—the alpha obviously burying his cock inside the omega.

The warbly moan that followed sent ripples of interference across Vox's screens.

"Fuck," Alastor managed, his smile taking on a strained quality. "I suppose that's one way to compensate for your stature."

Lucifer stilled immediately, his brow furrowing. "Are you alright, Al? We can stop if—"

Alastor's laugh crackled through the air. "Don't you dare, you infuriating cherub. I was merely making an observation."

Vox seethed silently, the barbed compliment stinging more than he cared to admit. He'd never elicited such…enthusiasm from the Radio Demon.

"An observation, hmm?" Lucifer's voice was low, dangerous. "Perhaps I should give you more to pay attention to."

Alastor's grin widened impossibly, his head tilting at an unnatural angle as he met Lucifer's blazing gaze.

To Vox's utter astonishment, a sound unlike any he'd ever heard from the Radio Demon escaped those sharp-toothed jaws—a cloying, submissive omega croon.

"Alpha," Alastor purred, his voice dripping with honeyed venom. "Don't keep me waiting. Show me what that divine strength can do."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, a wicked grin spreading across his angelic features. "As you wish."

With a growl that shook the very foundations of Hell, Lucifer began to move.

The ancient tree groaned in protest as he slammed Alastor against it, setting a brutal, punishing pace that had the Radio Demon gasping and clawing at the bark.

Vox writhed in his control room. His screen flickered wildly as he watched, certain that at any moment Alastor would start his usual routine—taunting, teasing, urging the alpha to hurry up and finish.

But the cutting remarks never came.

Alastor remained uncharacteristically hushed, not silent, save for the tuneless gasps and moans that escaped him with each thrust.

"This can't be real," Vox muttered, his voice tinged with static. "He's faking it. He has to be."

Vox's screen crackled with incredulity as he devoured Alastor's reactions.

The Radio Demon's perpetual smirk had vanished, replaced by open-mouthed gasps of pleasure.

Each thrust from Lucifer was met with unbridled enthusiasm, Alastor's lithe body bowing to meet the smaller alpha's powerful movements.

"Inconceivable," Vox hissed, his digital eyes narrowing. "Since when does the great Radio Demon submit and simper like a common whore?"

But the evidence was undeniable.

Alastor's crimson eyes were half-lidded, his antlers scraping against the tree bark as he threw his head back in abandon.

Lucifer's hand snaked between their bodies, his fingers curling around Alastor’s hard prick.

Vox leaned forward, a cruel chuckle escaping him. "Good luck with that, old man. The prude never wants to—"

His words died as Alastor not only allowed Lucifer's touch but seemed to revel in it. The omega's arms draped around Lucifer's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"That's it, darling," Alastor purred, his voice rough with need. "Don't stop."

Vox's screen flashed violently.

Alastor's composure crumbled entirely, his usual theatrical flair replaced by raw, primal need. His claws dug into Lucifer's back, slicing the fabric of the vest the devil wore.

"Alpha," Alastor implored, his voice crackling with static.

Lucifer growled, a sound that sent shivers through both Alastor and the watching Vox.

He captured Alastor's lips in a bruising kiss, hips snapping. Blood red leaves began falling from the tree with every tremble.

Vox's screen wavered erratically, mirroring his inner turmoil.

"This can't be real," he muttered. "It's another one of his tricks. It has to be."

As Lucifer and Alastor's coupling intensified, the air around them crackled with demonic energy.

The fallen leaves at their feet began to smolder, wisps of smoke curling upward.

Alastor's usual composure shattered completely, his carefully cultivated image crumbling under the onslaught.

"Alpha, please."

Lucifer's eyes glowed with hellfire as he growled, "Such a needy little doe. Is this what you wanted all along?"

He punctuated his words with particularly brutal thrusts, each one drawing a keening whine from the Radio Demon. Alastor's legs tightened around Lucifer's waist, trembling down to his red hooves.

Alastor's ears flattened against his head, a whimper escaping him.

"Alpha, please," he chanted, the words dripping with submission. "My alpha."

Lucifer captured Alastor's lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the Radio Demon's moans.

His hand moved faster on Alastor's cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive head with each stroke. Alastor's hips bucked wildly, caught between the dual sensations of Lucifer's hand and his relentless cock.

The tree behind them groaned, its trunk beginning to splinter under the force of their fucking. Cracks spread through the bark, mirroring the fractures in Alastor's usual mask of control.

His radio dials eyes spun wildly, tuning in and out of different frequencies as pleasure overwhelmed his senses.

"Lucifer," Alastor gasped, his voice breaking.

"Come for me, Bambi," Lucifer commanded, his voice resonating with unearthly power. "Show me how good I make you feel."

With a final, brutal thrust, Lucifer buried himself to the hilt inside Alastor.

The Radio Demon threw his head back as a cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure tore from his throat.

Lucifer stilled against him, grabbing the splintered tree trunk as his hips stuttered and finally stilled.

Vox's screen dimmed, a hollow ache spreading through him.

In all their time together, he had never seen Alastor so…content to surrender. And so satisfied with having done so.

They clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure.

Vox watched, transfixed, as Lucifer peppered Alastor's face with gentle kisses.

Soft laughter broke the silence, the tangled lovers falling to the soft grass and leaves at the base of the tree, arms still wrapped around each other.

Alastor's smile, for once, reached his eyes. “You will not hear the end of it if you ruined my coat.”

"You're incorrigible," Lucifer murmured, nuzzling the omega’s cheek.

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

The omega shifted, a small frown crossing his features.

"Well, this is a predicament," he mused, his radio-static voice tinged with amusement.

Lucifer chuckled, his golden hair falling across his forehead, until the Radio Demon’s hands started to right it.

“Hope you don’t need to be anywhere else, Bambi.” The angel chuckled, settling Alastor more comfortably into his lap. “Cause we’re gonna be stuck for a while.”

The realization hit Vox like a surge of electricity.

Alastor had allowed Lucifer to knot him.

The same Alastor who had always used his shadow powers to escape being tied down to Vox.

Resentment, hot and searing, mingled with a deep-seated anger that made his screen crackle—a painful truth began to crystallize.

"He never…not once…" Vox muttered, his voice distorting.

Alastor's fingers intertwined with Lucifer's. His gaze drifted to a fallen magnolia blossom near his hooved feet. With an elegant motion, he plucked it from the ground, his perpetual grin fixed in place, even as the delicate petals withered and browned at his touch.

Melancholy just flashed over that smile, but both alphas caught it.

Lucifer's eyes softened, sliding his other hand into Alastor's.

A warm, golden glow emanated from their joined fingers, enveloping the wilted flower.

Alastor watched, fascinated, as life surged back into the blossom.

Its petals unfurled, pristine and luminous, more vibrant than before.

"How curious," he mused, his radio-tinged voice barely above a whisper. "Your touch brings life, while mine—"

"Dont," Lucifer interrupted gently, tucking the rejuvenated flower into the lapel of Alastor’s coat. "We balance each out."

A genuine smile, softer than his usual manic grin, tugged at Alastor's lips. "I suppose we do, don't we?"

Suddenly, Alastor's head snapped towards the stealthy drone, his radio-dial eyes locking onto the camera.

His lips didn’t move, but that unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers around Vox.

"Enjoying the show, old friend?"

Vox sputtered. "How did you—"

On the screens, Alastor’s grin sharpened, turning wicked as his pupils began to spin.

Vox's face blue-screened with panic.

The air crackled with electromagnetic energy as Alastor's power surged.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you? It's rude to spy."

Vox's meticulously crafted surveillance network disintegrated in an instant, leaving only snow and static in its wake.

"No, no, no!" he snarled, his voice distorting with digital feedback. His fingers flew across the console, desperately trying to salvage the feed. "You smug, Bambi, bastard!"

The screens before him erupted in a cacophony of pixelated chaos.

The footage was gone, corrupted, irretrievable for blackmail. Or Vox’s private collection.

He slammed his fists on the console. "Damn you, Alastor!" His scream reverberated off the metal walls.

Back in the garden, Alastor's smirk widened, a mix of triumph and mischief dancing in his eyes. He savored the moment of Vox's frustration cast across the radio waves.

Then, the omega nestled closer to Lucifer.

His ex could have a tantalizing little show, but the afterglow…that was just for his alpha, and himself.

Alastor turned his attention back to Lucifer, a contented sigh escaping him as he settled more comfortably in the fallen angel's lap.

The knot tying them together pulsed gently, sending pleasant aftershocks through both their bodies.

"Now then," Alastor purred, his voice a low, staticky rumble. "Where were we?"

Lucifer's arms tightened around the Radio Demon, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Alastor's head. His fingers threaded through the soft red hair, careful to avoid the sensitive bases of Alastor's antlers.

"Right about here, I believe," Lucifer murmured, drawing Alastor into a slow, languid kiss.

Gone was the fire of before, replaced by sweetness and affection.

Alastor's lips parted with a soft sigh, allowing Lucifer's forked tongue to slip inside. The fallen angel tasted of brimstone and honey, an intoxicating combination that had Alastor melting further into his embrace.

When they finally broke apart, a dazed smile playing on Alastor’s lips.

Lucifer chuckled, pressing a series of feather-light kisses along the demon’s jaw.

"You're beautiful like this," Lucifer murmured against Alastor's skin. "

A faint blush colored Alastor's cheeks. "Flattery will get you everywhere, darling," he quipped, but there was no real bite to his words.

A faint buzzing filled the air as the drone, now useless, plummeted from the sky. It crashed behind the hotel with a satisfying crunch.

Lucifer, still knotted deeply inside Alastor, jerked around. "What was that?"

Alastor's grin never faltered. "Oh, nothing to worry about, darling," he purred, his voice a silky blend of amusement and innocence. "Just another one of those pesky flying cameras being zapped by your magnificent barrier."

Alastor shifted slightly on the fallen angel’s lap, drawing Lucifer’s attention back to him.

The garden around them was a vibrant tapestry of hellish flora, the air thick with the heady scent of sulfur and sweet blossoms. Alastor's ears twitched, picking up the faint rustle of leaves and distant screams of the damned.

"Now then," Alastor purred, his voice carrying the crackle of radio static, "I believe it's time for a little…privacy, don't you think?" His crimson eyes glinted with mischief as he gazed at Lucifer. "You can bring out those magnificent wings of yours, darling."

Lucifer's lips curled into a smirk, a mixture of amusement and affection dancing in his eyes.

"Oh? And here I thought you enjoyed putting on a show, scandolizing the plants and all."

Despite his teasing words, he unfurled his six majestic archangel wings, their pearlescent feathers catching the eerie light of Hell.

Then, they were wrapping around them both in a cocoon of soft white feathers. The air grew warmer, filled with the scent of alpha contentment and omega bliss.

“Now, why would I ever want to share you?” Alastor hummed, cupping Lucifer’s face close to him.

As the wings enveloped them both, creating a cocoon of ethereal beauty, Alastor felt a rare moment of true contentment wash over him.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in this intimate sanctuary.

Lucifer's voice, low and rich, broke the silence. "You know, Alastor, if you're needing attention, you can simply ask for it. No need for all this…taunting and provoking."

Alastor chuckled, the sound a mix of static and genuine mirth.

"Oh, but my dear Lucifer," he responded, his grin widening impossibly, "where would be the fun in that?"

That was the thrill of their little game, the push and pull that made their relationship so deliciously unpredictable.

"Besides," Alastor thought to himself, tracing a finger along Lucifer's jawline, "half the enjoyment is in the chase, isn't it?"

Alastor shifted, a mischievous glint in his radio-dial eyes. He rolled his hips experimentally, relishing the sensation of Lucifer's knot still buried deep inside his ass. An unmelodic moan escaped his lips, mixing with the ambient sounds of the garden.

Lucifer's hand shot out, gripping Alastor's hip where fawn spots adorned his skin.

"Easy there," he warned, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. "If you're aiming for another round in our room, you might want to pace yourself."

The Radio Demon's permanent grin widened. "Why would I take it easy on someone with infernal stamina?" he purred, leaning in close. "After all, aren't you the one who boasted about your…endurance?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes. “ I thought you might be, done, for the night."

"Oh, mon cher," Alastor chuckled, his voice dipping into a lower register. "I just needed to break the seal, so to speak." He closed the distance between them, capturing Lucifer's lips in a searing kiss. As they parted, Alastor's expression softened ever so slightly. " When we return to our room…well, I might be persuaded to show a sweeter side."

Lucifer's eyes widened a fraction, recognizing the rarity of Alastor's offer.

The Radio Demon leaned in, his breath ghosting over Lucifer's ear as he whispered, "That side of me is just for you, after all."

[zewik7]

Whats your fat story? like waht made you want to get so big and fat?

Okay buckle up because it’s REALLY effed up as a story.

BE WARNED!! THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST!!

I was JUST 4 years old when, in the solitude of my little bedroom, i played pretend within myself in my toddler crib: i was a little piggy and was destined to be fattened up.

Flash forward: i was 7, i was playing pretend still with that setting, and weighed myself before drinking as much water i could, and weighing myself after that too. I enjoyed seeing the little numbers on the scale go up so fast.

Flash forward: it was early 2000 years, i was 10 and a bit chubby, and the social fashion and new norm was being thin, too thin, so thin you could see ribs. I was regularly called fat, lardass, fatass, even tho i was of normal corporature. I was always angry about this, i didn’t felt fat!

Flash forward: i was 12 and EVERYONE called me fat because i developed early and already had big tits. The rest of my body was thin, i could feel the inter-ribs space with my fingers, but for the culture fo the time i was FAT. I started doing A LOT of sports, like swimming half week and karate the other half week, and that made me bulky, not thin at all. Fat-related bullying intensified at the point that at 13 years old i requested to my mother if i could go to a nutritionist for becoming thinner. She complied, but i got so stressed from the bullying, too much sport and trying on the top of this to be the best in my class, that i actually gained weight… the “wrong” kind of weight. The FAT weight.

I was 14 when i put my fingers on the minimal curve of my belly, the littlest pouch of fat i had when i was like 7 and never again, and pushed and squeezed it. And i loved it. I searched on google, in my mother tongue (italian): “what does it means if i like being fat?”. And it found a single 100ish people forum on BHM and BBW in italian, and i spent a week reading it, watching the SFW photos, i even requested access by registration to the forum.

And THERE. THERE i asked the fundamental question: “everyone i know wants to be thin… but i like being fat. I’d like to be fatter, even. I am wrong? Am i a bad person for feeling like this?”.

And response, gentle and welcoming and kind, was immediately: “no, you’re not a bad person for wanting to decide for your own body in your own way. You’re little for now, but one day you’ll get to choose for yourself what to do about it”.

But i was 14. And any 14yo ever existed believes they know everything in the world.

So i started using my allowance. Normally i’d store it in a box under my bed until i really wanted something (at the time i already spent like 200€ for an ipod touch, but i still had a decent sum remaining), but now i planned and invested my money in my fattening.

I started buying food on the way from home to school and returning, every place selling food knew me by name for the end of the school year. And i packed kgs like my body was so thirsty for them!!

In just two years (2!!) i went from 14 yo per 55 kg (155 cm height) to 16 yo per 115 kg (160 cm height).

I bumped into things with my body because i wasn’t used to being so large! And i was so effing soft!!! I loved it!!!

It was… interesting, from an external point of view, for sure.

My parents couldn’t wrap their minds around HOW i doubled in weight in just two years, for example.

And of course they had to stop me.

They stopped giving me allowance, reprised making me do sports (this time, swimming and modern dance), put me on a strict diet… but I LONGED for that freedom, that big quantities of food and sugary carbonated drinks, even the fatigue and short breath from running briefly… but more than anything… i hated i was losing my physical softness.

In other two years, from 16 to 18, i went from 115 kg to 75 kg.

Then my mother died and she left me some money, so i could go away from home (never loved that other parent too much) in 2015 and start my TRUE gaining.

Since then, I gained more than 125 kg (280 lbs).

[beggars-opera]

Just a normal day in the national park giving a civil war hero a grave 160 years later

[octuscle]

im a skinny 18 year old nerd from nyc. i was skinny & about 5 foot 1 inches tall with an iq 160 who have to spend the summer on a farm in Kansas with my uncle & cousins who are twins the same age as me. my uncle drove me back to his farm when we got there i saw my cousins who look like normal corn fed Kansas farm boys both are at least 6 feet 3 inches tall in height and is broad-shouldered and muscular in build they both play football however they both have an iq of 160 , when they took off their shirts i saw they both have 6 pack abs , substantial pecs and arms. they told me all the guys our age in town even the nerds in this small Kansas town has a 6 pack, substantial pecs and arms& are also broad-shouldered cause even the nerds work on farms & have to join the football team so they could get into college. they took me to the spare bedroom told me soon i will be a corn fed Kansas farm boy like them then they inject me with something as they soon did i fell onto the spare bedroom's large oak-framed bed with a mattress smelling strongly of sweat and faintly of dirt, my plop onto it showed a plume of dust through the filtered mid-afternoon sunlight coming in through the only break in the sky-blue walls : a rickety old window with heavily dusty, half-closed shutters. If i hadn't been injected with something, i might have had second thoughts about sleeping in this bedroom for how stereotypically country it was. With my head cradled by the handmade quilts and pillowcases, i very quickly drifted off to sleep, my cousins took off my nerdy clothes& briefs & put a jockstrap & boxers on. my mind filled with stranger dreams than ever, things including trucks and beer to mud and boots. All the while, my body was losing a battle against invading testosterone which turned from my inferior nerdy DNA into my cousins 's better nerd jock hybrid DNA which means im no longer cousins with my cousins im now brothers with them we are now identical triplets . , which would result in a rude awakening in the morning. i woke up the next morning a changed MAN. Still reeling from the odd dreams, i stepped over to the mirror. And i screamed! my body had changed overnight from the injection i now look like a corn fed Kansas farm boy like my now brother threw open my closet, only to find that my nerdy outfits were gone. They were replaced with boot cut wrangler jeans, stained tee shirts, baseball caps, and musty cowboy boots! Ugh! And instead of underwear there were boxers and jock straps! After breakfast, we all went and worked out. Then we headed to work. i drove a tractor and plowed the field. After lunch we saddled up the horses and rode through the ranch. . After that we went to the football game, and i was the new linebacker. my & my brothers were both nerd & jocks & also farmboy with genius iqs all 3 of us got into Harvard on a football scholarship

Buddy, this is not a question in the strict sense of the word… Great story… But no question… What should I answer?

Whatever: the corn was good to ya. Ya're a freakin' muscle stud! 'n aah don't reckon harvard is fo-wah ya. Aah see ya more own the west coast. UCSB or Stanford… but that's your choice. Best wishes to your hot brothers 'n have a great day!