#Fat Girl Begone!

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[tma-entity-song-poll]

Battle of the Fear Bands!

B4R3: The Extinction

Made in America:

“Quite literally about how consumerism & capitalism has paved the way for a eldritch god to enter their world”

Wasteland, Baby!:

“That's just wasteland, baby”

Lyrics below the line!

Made in America:

You thought that you could outsmart The very thing that runs the blood of your kind? You're sick with greed and a lust For that, you will give up your will and your pride

You're hoping you will be saved No matter what you have raised Behold the depths of depravity and decay It's happened on your watch Your time is running out before worlds collide

You went and opened the box And then it came in a slick little package That drove you insane 'Cause your thirst for stuff Is never slaked

And now the end is nigh, the apocalypse here In a package that's not what it appears

You may ask why the doll, well that's all it takes

When you're made in America In a valley of silicon Welcome to Wiggly's shop Your America assembly line We've got toys and trucks and big fat butts That'll help you pass the time

Hey kids, you know that you grow up With all the crap you want Just sprinkle it with dust And a gob of fuckin' lust And you wave your world goodbye

Wiggly, wiggly Wiggle, wiggly Wiggly, wig-

Wa-wiggle, wiggle Wiggly, wiggly (wiggle wiggle, wiggle wiggle, wiggle wiggle) Wiggle, wiggly (wiggle wiggle, wiggle wiggle, wiggle wiggle) Wiggly, wiggly, wig-

Hello, Mr. Presy-wes. Welcome to Drowsy-Town

It's you!

Don't be frightened, you're my bestest buddy-wud

No! I've come to tell you to leave us alone!

Leave? Just before Christmas? It's going to be my birthday, you know? I wouldn't want to miss out on opening all my presents I think I'll start with you. I'm going to cut open your belly-well and deck the halls with your gutsy-wutsies!

Enough!

John!

You!

Your minions may do me no harm, Wiggly, for I cut through them with a blade of truth. Begone!

I'm sorry, John, I fucked it up!

Don't worry Mr. President, we'll get you out of here

It's too late, John! Wiggly's prophet has been chosen, and as soon as she has a doll, she will bring about his birth

You opened the box A doll came out And he'll touch down soon To erase any doubt That is all you need To fill your heart

Now the end is nigh, the apocalypse here

In a package that preys on the worst of your fears The gambit is done A work of art

That was made in America In a valley of silicon

We're all made in America In a valley of silicon

Wasteland, Baby!:

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl Happens great, happens sweet Happily, I'm unfazed here too

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass Like the bonfire that burns that all words in the fight fell to

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you And I love too, that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's just wasteland, baby

And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you'll have on And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you And I love too, that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's wasteland, baby

When the stench of the sea and the absence of green Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen Are the end, but the start of all things that are left to do

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

That's it

[bite-sized-devil]

Alright, babydoll, sign me up for the match up!

Star Sign: Taurus Sun, Gemini Moon, Pisces Rising

Age: 25

Height: 5'4" / 163.2cm

Identity: Bisexual with a preference to masculine features

Occupation: Student/Student Doctor

Favorite things: My makeup, food, my bed, learning new things, singing/music, shopping, chocolate

Hobbies/What I do in my spare time: writing and drawing for my horny little sinners. Learning a new language. Studying. Shopping.

Fav Obey Me Character: Girl, you already know, but Diavolo, clearly

What I look for in a partner: attentive. Trustworthy/honest [lying to me is a good way to die]. Kind to others as well as me. Good sexual chemistry. Enjoys good food and taking me out to get food or have food made because I get hangry. Conversationalist because I like talking but also someone who can talk when I dont feel like it. But also a good listener. Curious/looking to learn new things. Stability is a requirement, financially, and in other ways. I can't do flaky people.

About Me (visually): You already have my socials lmao but I can describe maybe what isn't as clear in photos. I'm actually short [see my height] and very curvy/stalky. I have an hourglass shape, but I hide it because I have a lot of sand in mine [read: I'm fat/plus size]. I love my makeup and being put together, with full outfits, coordinating hair, makeup, and shoes, the whole shebang. But otherwise, you can just look at what I've posted. (Please don't include any photos of me in the reply)

Thank you again, and congratulations! You deserve it!

-The Royal SK

🌻 500 Followers Bite Sized Event 🌻

SK, My Queen, my pink cult sister, my demon fucker darling. I'm so glad we're friends! I'm more than happy to be the third wheel in yours and delphi friendship 💕 I feel like I bring a certain uncertainty to your pairing and I quite like that! 😂😚☺️

NSFW in parts so minors begone! 18+ MDNI

Match up:

Diavolo Prince of the Devildom

There really was no other choice for you, I will admit I thought about Barb, but I just kept coming back to his highness. He knows just how to treat you, he's like putty in your hands, he'll give you everything you want and more... If he knows whats good for him! Baby boy would take such good care of you, he'll take you out to eat and listen to you for hours. He's goddamn obsessed. Can you blame a guy though?

Head canons for you both:

SFW:

I know you're a swiftie so imma put this out there. That song enchanted to meet you... That's literally the both of you. Except there is no wondeing who you both love. It's clearly each other.

Ok but when you first got together there was a lot of sneaking around! Escaping the castle together (as if barb doesn't know 😂 he thinks it's cute so he lets it slide for now), slipping out of HOL unnoticed is a fucking chore but you do it! Playing hooky at rad. Pulling the "Diavolo would like to see the exchange student in his office" Once you guys left the intercom on and the entire school heard you both giggling and kissing and.... Other things!

He loves to show you off, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman that has ever existed or that will ever exist. So as long as he can keep you, he'll have you by his side.

Sleep overs at the castle? Check! Sleep overs at HOL? Keep it to a minimum. The boys are jealous enough! What with you giving your heart to the prince, now he wants to encroach on family time? Nu-huh! No way! Get fucked! Fuck off! (Sorry had to put my aussie rock band reference in there.)

Does his angel face want a gift? Yeah! Great he's gonna spoil you rotten and then some. You will be completely taken care of! You don't even need to ask, he just wants to give you everything you need!

He loves to kiss you. Soft forehead kisses, cute cheek kisses, teasing neck kisses, lingering kisses on your sweet lips. He can't get enough of them. The way your body softens in his hold.

He's all about pet names for you! He called you princess, baby, chicken, honey, my love, my life, sweetheart, pretty thing, good girl.

NSFW:

Baby girl I hope you like big cock because ya boy's packing! Are you going to take it like a good girl? "S'too biig! Pleeeeaase!" "Sorry princess... Think you can take just the tip, yeah? Fuuuck you feel so good... s'tiiiight. Little more, yeah? Being so good for me. You can take it, I know you can." Yeah you're gonna take a lot more than just the tip. Don't worry, he's the king of prep. He'll make you cum on his tongue before he stretches you out on his fingers first. He only needs to force it a little bit by the time he's done.

You ever been fucked on a throne? Would you like to? That's what you whisper to him before you push him down on the thing. Well, when he lets you push him down onto the thing, good luck trying if he doesn't want to. Daddy Dia is B I G. He actually hadn't believe it or not, but I think he's going to want to make it a regular thing. He likes the way you ride him slow, he likes it even more when you're tired and he can take control. Holding you by your hips, dragging your pussy up and down his cock. Using you how he wants too.

You know how I said he likes kissing your on your lips? Yeah I meant your downstairs lips 😂 jk. But kinda serious. There is something about your taste he can't get enough of. He'll eat you out anytime anywhere so be warned. It's breakfast time, he's hungry but not for the breakfast that Barbatos has prepared. Oops you're no longer in your chair, suddenly you're lying on your back on the table with your skirt lifted and your panties being ripped off. Protesting until his mouth latches around your clit and suddenly you can't remember why you're saying no???

If you'll allow it he'll mark you anyway he can. Especially in cheeky places that are slightly visible. Places you would really have to look to notice. Like just below your ear. The back of your shoulder. Your bicep, your hips, your tummy. He also likes cumming on your face. You just look so pretty covered in his cum, eyes all wide. Mouth open, tongue out hoping to get a taste of him.

I hope you like my little head canons for you and dia, princess! Thank you so much for requesting ☺️ I love you, you're pretty perfect, did you know? 💕💕🌻

[raspbeppie]

♥ info ♥

about me: hi, im rasp! im a lesbian that uses any pronouns :} im a feeder and i've always been a big fan of bigger women, and i finally want to show it. i'm 20, and i'd rather minors begone from this blog due to its adult nature. i plan to reblog both other people's art that i enjoy, and also post my own art as well! i don't really want this blog to have much of a reach, as it is mostly for... personal use. but if you do wish to see some large ladies, go ahead and follow!

EDIT: i do not intend to engage with anyone via dm, as i am apprehensive about talking to strangers directly online, especially in sexual contexts. if you wish to ask about preferences, or chat in general about feedism, sending an ask would be preferred! if an ask doesnt get answered, i either haven't checked my inbox, or i didnt feel comfortable responding. thank you for your understanding!

tag key:

#wg this post is a part of a weight gain sequence. whether it be just one part of the sequence, or a collection of all of the parts of a sequence, you'll find em all in this tag!

#chubby this post is on the lowest end of the weight spectrum. girls that have a bit of a tummy go here!

#plump this post is second lowest on the weight spectrum. girls that might have a lot of trouble getting old clothes on go here!

#fat this post is the lower midrange on the weight spectrum. girls that have trouble fitting in aisles, doorways, and driver's seats go here!

#big this post is the higher midrange on the weight spectrum. girls that have trouble getting around go here!

#unreal this post is the beginning of the highrange of the weight spectrum. girls that can barely stand, hardly reach their mouth to feed themself, and get wiped out just trying to roll over go here!

#bus this post is the second highest in the highrange of the weight spectrum. girls that are the size of buses or bigger go here!

#sun this post is the highest in the weight spectrum. girls that are around the size of the sun go here!

#mobile this post contains a girl that can move on her own. girls that can make it to the fridge go here!

#immobile this post contains a girl that can't move on her own. girls that need assistance getting places, or getting things, go here!

#irl this post has a real girl in it. girls that take beautiful photos of themselves go here!

#text this post is text only. imagines, appreciation posts, and others' fiction about big girls go here!

#<3 this post is a personal favorite of mine! girls who pop buttons, spill out of jeans or bras, or just can't help themself go here!

#intox this post contains a lady unwinding with a substance before a big meal. girls that smoke or drink go here!

#alch this post contains a lady who is drinking or is drunk. girls that have a few beers before dinner go here!

#dandelion this post contains a lady who is smoking weed or is stoned. girls who get munchies go here!

#raspberryink this post contains my artwork. girls that i love to doodle go here!

#raspywriting this post contains my writing. girls that i love to drabble go here!

#info this post contains information either relevant to me or the blog itself. girls don't tend to go here! unless you count me!

(DISCLAIMER:)

i do tend to enjoy mobile ladies a bit more, but its not uncommon for me to enjoy a lady at an unreasonable size. this aside, i do not enjoy works with hospital equipment hooked up to a girl, as anything above the #unreal stage is pure fantasy for me. i'd prefer to keep it lighthearted and heavybodied, so works with that tone of seriousness won't be featured.

on a similar note, posts that feature intoxication (or intox for short) will tend more towards the light side, and often will be more towards weed rather than alcohol, mostly out of personal preference.

posts that feature bimbofication, or the act of dumbing down a feedee, will be incredibly sparse as well. i lean more towards a lucid lady, and situations where she may not be in the most control because of difficulty thinking all the time tends to rub me the wrong way.

#irl posts will be infrequent, since i don't wish to be disrespectful to any of the beautiful women who post themselves. weight spectrum catagorization will not apply to these posts either for the same reasons. remember that real women have their own thoughts and feelings as a person, this may be a fetish blog, but their comfort always comes first.

ai art of any kind will not be featured on this blog! bbw-draw or otherwise won't be posted, i would much rather appreciate the artists who kindly create and share with people like us.

thanks so much for reading! now, let's get to those big beautiful women!

[pinklocksoflove]

Hatelsia’s Tavern Brawl: Part One

Drabble word count: 1329

Ludwig Herzsprung pushed the struggling barmaid from his knee. In her attempts to resist his unwelcomed kiss she had inadvertently smudged his high velvet collar with the rouge from her cheeks

“Begone, tramp!” He told her in his most imperious voice. Filled with all the undeserving self-confidence the young noble’s son could muster. The blonde girl stared at him angrily, face flushed under the somewhat inexpertly applied rouge and powder, annoyance distorted this woman’s pretty face.

“My name is Ingrid” She huffed “Call me by my name”

“I’ll call you whatever I like, slattern. My father owns this tavern, and if you would keep the job, you only so recently acquired, you’ll keep your tone and your words civil”

She bit back at a retort that she so desperately wanted to scathe this arrogant rat of a man with but cut her losses and retreated out of his reach.

Ludwig knew she would be back. They always come back. Father’s gold saw to that. He brushed the rouge off of his clothing with a well-manicured hand. Then he studied his bearded aquiline features in his small silver hand mirror, checking to make sure none of the girl’s makeup marred his pale skin he so loved. He ignored the titters of his sycophants and the amused looks of the lads who clearly were bullies as boys and never grew out of it, his bodyguards. He could afford to hire them, by virtue of his father’s wealth. He was the undisputed leader of this clique of fashionable fops that liked to parade themselves around in the poorer districts of town so they can flaunt their wealth to those they consider below their status.

From the corner of his eye Ludwig could see the tavernkeeper, Gunther, scolding the girl. The man knew he could not afford to offend the owner’s son and heir, as much as he wanted to. He saw the girl bite back a rejoinder and began to come back to Ludwig.

“I’m sorry for marking your clothes, sir.” She said in a soft voice “Please accept my humblest apology.”

“Of course,” Ludwig replied in an overall haughty tone “Since your clumsiness is exceeded only by your stupidity, and your stupidity is exceeded by your plainness, I must take pity on you. Your apology is accepted. I shall ask that Gunther deduct the cost of this jerkin so I may replace this one you ruined, out of your pay”

The girl’s mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but she held it back for fear of further trouble. Ludwig knew that the jerkin cost more than the girl would make in a month, including tips. She desperately wanted to argue but knew it was futile. Gunther would side with Ludwig, even if he hated the smug bastard. Her shoulders slumped and he noticed the way her low-cut bodice revealed her bosom and a thought came across his mind

“Unless of course, you would care to repay your debt to me in some other way? Perhaps.... visiting my chambers later this evening around midnight?”

At first, he thought she would refuse. She was young and fresh from the country and still held quaint ideas of virtue. She was born of a peasant, lowest of the low in his mind. She had fled here to town hoping to escape servitude but unfortunately found herself wrapped up in just the same. Losing her job here would surely result in her starving or returning home to face the wrath of the vassal lord she once served under. If she lost her position, Ludwig would see to it she would not be able to get another one elsewhere. The realization of her situation sank and in and her head sunk forward, and she nodded once.

“Then get out of my sight.” Ludwig commanded. The girl fled through the gauntlet of Ludwig’s mass of hangers-on. Tears ran down her face and she hid herself in the back room of the tavern.

Ludwig let off a satisfied sigh then downed another goblet of wine. The sweet clove scented liquid burned down his throat and filled his gut with warmth. He stared towards one of his lackeys, a fat pock-faced young noble son himself, stopped stuffing his face and gave an ingratiating grin

“Nicely done, Ludwig! Afore this night is out you’ll have introduced young Ingrid to the mysteries of you ‘secret lord’ Might I join in later? Take my turn?”

Ludwig sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing fully that regardless this lackey was going to attempt to take his turn with her whether or not he agreed.

“Maybe. Well, that’s tonight’s amusement, but what shall we do till then to while away at the tedious hours in this dull, dull place?” He could see no one worth tormenting, most of the other patrons were of similar status to himself, with their own bodyguards, not much real fun to be had there. A wizened old man in a blue robe sat alone by the fire, had the look of a wizard about him, certainly not a good target. Really wasn’t any entertainment now. Torches flickered in the draught as the outer door opened

“Well perhaps our entertainment has just arrived”

Certainly, an odd arrival, a tall beautiful blonde woman with crystal blue eyes in Dwarvish attire entered, runic patterns tattooed in a ring around her upper arms. She carried with her a runed war axe on her belt, such a beauty would never lower herself to actually fight, would she? Thought Ludwig. Well, oddities of attire and markings aside she was quite the looker.

The blonde moved to the bar and ordered the strongest beer on tap. The tavern had gone quiet, anticipating what Ludwig and his cronies would say. Ludwig knew that they had seen him bait newcomers. He sighed; he had a reputation to be upheld

“Well, well, I didn’t know angels came down dressed as dwarves” It wasn’t the best line but everyone has already had a few drinks and seemed impressed by this admittedly cheesy line

“HA! That’s a new one!” The blonde laughed in her thick Dwarvish accent.

“Ya can’t be serious lad, aside tha fact I ain’t interested, that line was shite” she sipped her beer and turned away chuckling to herself

No one had ever so casually rejected Ludwig before, and this infuriated him to no end. “I find you surly and rude, if you do not apologize, I shall have my men give you a lesson in proper manners”

The newcomer just laughed and slapped her knee.

“Ohhh I’m sorry, did I hurt ya feelins’ Go cry tae ya mum. I ain’t interested in men.” The further spurning only fueled Ludwig’s fury.

“Otto, Herman, Werner, I can no longer bear the sight of this tramp who thinks she’s a dwarf, if you would kindly eject her from the tavern.”  Herman loomed over Ludwig and rubbed one knobbly knuckled fist through his unkempt beard.

“I don’t know if this wise, lord. She looks tough.” He whispered, rubbing his shaven head as he gazed over at the blonde woman knocking back yet another tankard of beer. 

“The way she carries herself, she moves like an experienced fighter of many battles.” 

“So do you” Replied Ludwig, “Otto, I don’t pay you for your wit and charm, deal with her!” Ludwig watched as Otto slipped something hard and metallic over his fist. He leaned back in his chair to enjoy the show.

The blonde looks towards the bodyguards and smirks. “Ya really want tae try this don’tcha? Can’t we just have a pint?” The blonde seems completely unfazed by the trio of bodyguards

“Orders are orders.” Otto replied and swung. To Ludwig’s surprise the stranger easily blocks the attack with her forearm and then doubled the large man over with a single, swift strike to his ample paunch with the wind knocked out of him.

“Really want tae do this do ya?”

End of Part One

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), MILD SPOILERS, also this is a sequel, the first work is here. (I promise it’s good, the formatting of the origi post is just a little plain cause I hadn’t figured out what I liked yet). There’s some… stuff in this, idk, its nothing much but check the description or ao3 tags if you’re not sure of how you feel about dads who are Assholes, lots of angst because yours truly is a masochist :)

Description:

Levi returns from the war with a broken body only to have his heart broken as well when he finds (Y/N) has gone away from her father’s farm never to return or so much as remember his name- or so her father says. (Y/N), recently returned from a medical emergency in a neighboring village, is informed of her lover’s death, and the ensuing grief is almost too much to bear.

Months later, (Y/N) finds herself trapped in her father’s house, and Levi finds a very interesting ad in the personals column of the newspaper. Letter-writing shenanigans ensue, and Gabi and Falco get ideas.

Ao3 link here

“I don’t like you, island devil.”

Levi closed his eyes. Falco quickly scolded Gabi, but the damage had been done. Levi didn’t have to look to know that (Y/N) was quietly leaning back in her chair and setting her fork down to study Gabi more closely. What would happen next, Levi couldn’t be sure, and he almost didn’t want to know.

They were halfway through an awkward breakfast with (Y/N) sitting across from him and Gabi and Falco on either side of her. When (Y/N) and Levi first woke and (Y/N)’s stomach had made her hunger known, Levi had insisted on making French toast— Falco’s favorite— and (Y/N) had put on a pot of coffee and set the table. It was like a normal morning between two normal people, if a little quiet, but the moment Gabi and Falco had trudged into the kitchen, that silence had become weighted and uncomfortable. At first, Levi thought he would rather be waterboarded, but that was until Gabi just happened to open her fat trap. Now he realized he’d rather fight a titan again than have this conversation.

Oh God, he had to fix this before (Y/N) decided to. He really didn’t want a second international war to start at his own kitchen table

“You will not speak to her like that under this roof,” Levi said, opening his eyes, glaring daggers at Gabi. “You don’t know the first thing— ”

“Levi.”

(Y/N)’s voice was soft, but final, and Levi turned to look at her.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she told him, her eyes shining in the morning light, “But I’ve got this one.”

So saying, she turned to Gabi, and Levi held his breath.

“I appreciate your honesty.” (Y/N)’s voice did not raise in volume, nor did it change in tone. Hearing her speak was like floating on the surface of running water— buoyant and moving, but with the illusion of remaining stationary. “You look to be a smart girl, a confident young woman. It’s likely that you think that you’re untouchable. I certainly did at your age, and I didn’t fight in a war.”

Gabi opened her mouth to protest, but (Y/N) didn’t give her a chance.

“But I’ve been watching you this morning, child, and you have very obvious failings to the trained eye.” (Y/N)’s face was impassive, but her eyes were hard as stone. “I tell you this not to tease or insult you, but to make you understand the move you just made and why it’s premature. Listen well, and you may yet learn something.”

“I doubt I could learn anything from a gold-digging, back-stabbing hussy like you,” Gabi retorted, defiant, but before Levi could intervene, (Y/N) raised a hand to him.

“I’ve got this,” her eyes repeated, but Levi was more uncomfortable than he’d ever been in his life.

“You see, Gabi Braun, you know nothing about me,” (Y/N) told her. “And as much as you think you may know Levi, you don’t know him well either, or you would have realized your mistake before you made it. Understand this— there is a certain power women hold over men that is as real as it is effective, and as you grow older, you’ll understand more and more of what I mean. Nevertheless, regardless of your understanding of it, that power exists, and you just challenged it with no weapon, no shield, and certainly no strategy. Because you think you know me, you seek to frighten me from this table with your spite; because you think you know Levi, you think he will choose you, a faithful companion, over a woman who shares his bed. If I were a lesser woman, maybe that would have worked.”

(Y/N) paused, and Levi reminded himself that yes, breathing was good, very good, necessary , even.

“But I am no lesser woman,” she said, and Gabi rolled her eyes. “I’m strong, intelligent, and educated, and I love Levi more than anything else in this world. Titans, spies, terrorists, villains of any and every sort will— none of those things will ever be enough to frighten me away from him. Your little outburst at best would have turned Levi against either one or both of us had it proved effective, and even then, he would have resented being forced to choose between us— but I won’t allow that.”

(Y/N) reached across the table to grasp Levi’s hand— the right one, the one missing two fingers— and she smiled softly at him before speaking one final time.

“You’re free to dislike me as much as you wish,” she said, looking directly at Levi, “But I will never leave his side willingly, nor let you do so and hurt him in the process. You don’t have to like me— you don’t even have to speak to me— but you will not cause Levi any more pain than he’s already been through. I advise you this: collect a bit more data before you start hurling insults across the table and expect a favorable outcome. If you want to play games with the grownups, prepare to act like one instead of a petulant brat.”

The table was silent. Falco twitched nervously, and Levi was still in his mental happy place, decapitating Zeke again. Gabi stared at (Y/N), and (Y/N) stared at Levi, and no one said or did anything until Levi decided to take a sip of his coffee.

“Well,” he said, “If that’s all, I’m going to get a refill. Anyone else want more coffee?”

No one said anything, and Levi sighed, knowing what he had to do.

When he sat back down, fresh coffee in front of him, he said, “Great. So, which one of you is going first?”

(Y/N) and Gabi both turned to him with a funny expression, and Falco stuffed another piece of French toast in his mouth to keep from talking.

“You two are gonna tell your stories,” he elaborated, leaning back so he could cross his legs. “If you recall, this most recent international conflict and several generations of hate have happened because no one talked to each other— if we have to, we’ll sit here until someone shits their pants, but I refuse to live in a house with two spiteful women at each other’s throats. I’m too old to be caught in the crossfire.”

At that, (Y/N) let out a tiny giggle, and the corners of Gabi’s mouth twitched upward.

“My story’s better,” Gabi proclaimed, crossing her arms.

“Oh yeah?” (Y/N) challenged. “Bring it on.”

Good, Levi thought. Anything’s better than silence.

***

By the time the sun set, (Y/N) and Gabi had moved outside with their conversation, and they talked until they were both hoarse.

Levi was right— all they needed to do was talk. Gabi had been surprisingly forthcoming with stories about her homeland, then stories about the war, and the stories about Levi and how life here had been. Though all appearances had been to the contrary, Gabi was a real human with real human feelings like regret, and some of her stories broke (Y/N)’s heart. Likewise, Gabi seemed affected by (Y/N)’s own stories— ones of her childhood, then med school, and then how she met Levi— and a healthy respect formed between the two of them as they began to understand one another.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Gabi asked, nodding to Levi, who was fishing out by the stream.

“More than anything,” (Y/N) replied, thinking back to the days when they first met. “He’s a celebrity, you know— I always felt like he was prince charming in a fairy tale that I somehow stumbled into. If someone had told me when I was younger if I’d have someone like him, I’d have laughed in their face.”

A curse rang out as Levi accidentally dropped a fish back into the stream, and Gabi and (Y/N) both laughed.

“But you love him for more than that, right?” asked Gabi once they’d sobered. “Sure, he’s humanity’s strongest and all that rot, but—”

“Levi is more than just that,” (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, I know.”

Gabi paused, then asked, “How did you know you loved him, though?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I can’t pinpoint the day, the minute, or the hour, but… it had to be around the time he brought me an injured bird to one of our more clandestine rendezvous, and instead of proceeding with a sneaky date, we worked on fixing that poor broken wing. He was so gentle, so concerned— his face was all seriousness, but his eyes said everything I needed to know.”

Gabi rolled her eyes. “Simp.”

(Y/N) frowned. “Simp?”

“You’re too old, I can’t explain it to someone past their prime.”

“Past my— you brat!” (Y/N) laughed, digging her elbow into Gabi’s arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

Ignoring that, Gabi said, “I’m getting bored— tell me more Levi stories!”

(Y/N) hummed, thinking for a moment.

“Did I tell you he showed up drunk at my door, trying to confess his feelings?”

“What? No way!”

“Yes way,” (Y/N) laughed. “It went a little something like this… ”

***

“My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began;

So is it now I am a man;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The Child is father of the Man;

And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.”

~William Wordsworth (The Rainbow)

[friendlyneighborhoodamara]

Holy shit.

So when Sokka said "My first girlfriend to the moon," Zuko didn't realize what he meant. He, as one unfamiliar with the mythology of the Northern Water Tribe, assumed that Sokka's first girlfriend became a most bulbous (meaning plump, rotund, fat) individual. HOWEVER, as a feminist, Zuko is against any form of fatphobia, especially against women, yet is aware of the existence of fatphobia. Therefore, he assumed that Sokka had dumped his first girlfriend due to her gaining weight.

Clearly, his "That's rough buddy" was therefore an attack on Sokka himself.

In those four syllables, Zuko destroyed Sokka's apparent fatphobia and ACTUALLY said this: "It sucks that you're such a pathetic, invertebrate person who would dump a beautiful young girl for her weight, thus showing that you have succumbed to the fatphobia of our society. Forgive my impudence, but it is glad that your mother died, so she wouldn't see the man you have become. Begone, foul fat-shaming beast!" It's the only thing that makes sense

[makerkenzie]

Golden Crowns and Golden Shrouds

As you know, I’ve been working on a critique of the Martells’ plan to punish the Lannisters and restore the Targaryens, so as I was reading the Dorne chapters in AFFC, I came back to Myrcella. 

Book version, she has a misadventure with Arianne which gets her maimed and nearly killed. She loses an ear and gets a fat chunk sliced off her face. She’s still alive! But someone who was supposed on be on their side tried to kill her. It was a split-second’s unexpected movement by her horse that made the difference between her ear and her life. 

Because she’s survived a near-miss and lost a body part, I started thinking: if not for Maggy’s prophecy, I might think book-version Myrcella won’t die young after all.

It’s 2020 and life is short, so I’m gonna show you my new crackpot theory! 

Let’s take another look at Maggy’s prophecy:

“Three questions may you ask,” the crone said, once she’d had her drink. “You will not like my answers. Ask, or begone with you.”

Go, the dreaming queen thought, hold your tongue, and flee. But the girl did not have sense enough to be afraid. “When will I wed the prince?” she asked.

“Never. You will wed the king.”

Beneath her golden curls, the girl’s face wrinkled up in puzzlement. For years after, she took those words to mean that she would not marry Rhaegar until after his father Aerys had died. “I will be queen, though?” asked the younger her.

“Aye.” Malice gleamed in Maggy’s yellow eyes. “Queen you shall be … until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.”

Anger flashed across the child’s face. “If she tries I will have my brother kill her.” Even then she would not stop, willful child as she was. She still had one more question due her, one more glimpse into her life to come. “Will the king and I have children?” she asked.

“Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you.”

That made no sense to Cersei. Her thumb was throbbing where she’d cut it, and her blood was dripping on the carpet. How could that be? she wanted to ask, but she was done with her questions.

The old woman was not done with her, however. “Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds,” she said. “And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.”

“What is a valonqar? Some monster?” The golden girl did not like that foretelling. “You’re a liar and a warty frog and a smelly old savage, and I don’t believe a word of what you say. Come away, Melara. She is not worth hearing.”

“I get three questions too,” her friend insisted. And when Cersei tugged upon her arm, she wriggled free and turned back to the crone. “Will I marry Jaime?” she blurted out.

You stupid girl, the queen thought, angry even now. Jaime does not even know you are alive. Back then her brother lived only for swords and dogs and horses … and for her, his twin.

“Not Jaime, nor any other man,” said Maggy. “Worms will have your maidenhead. Your death is here tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close.”

“The only breath we smell is yours,” said Cersei. There was a jar of some thick potion by her elbow, sitting on a table. She snatched it up and threw it into the old woman’s eyes. In life the crone had screamed at them in some queer foreign tongue, and cursed them as they fled her tent. But in the dream her face dissolved, melting away into ribbons of grey mist until all that remained were two squinting yellow eyes, the eyes of death.

Maggy tells Cersei too little and too much. She doesn’t exactly lie but her answers are deliberately deceptive. She knows Cersei will think she means something else and doesn’t bother to elaborate. 

There’s some debate about some parts of the prophecy. Which is fine! If you’ve been following my blog for more than a few months, you probably know I seem to be in the minority in those debates. So I feel like: well, in for a star, in for a dragon! Hold my shade-of-the-evening and have a seat, babe. 

Let’s go through the prophecy line by line.

“When will I wed the prince?” she asked.

“Never. You will wed the king.”

Cersei assumes that means she’ll wed Rhaegar after he becomes king. Turns out she weds King Robert after he’s killed Rhaegar.

“I will be queen, though?” asked the younger her.

“Aye.” Malice gleamed in Maggy’s yellow eyes. “Queen you shall be … until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.”

Cersei thinks this means another queen, and at this stage in the story she thinks that younger queen in Margaery. But see: Maggy never actually says queen. She just says there comes another. Just...another person. For all we know the YMB could be Jon. Seriously, though! The YMB doesn’t need to be a literal queen. For a long time I liked the idea of the YMB being multiple women. Right now I’m leaning towards Brienne as the sole YMB. Because that means Cersei is also deceiving herself about the meaning of “more beautiful,” and Brienne is ironically called the Beauty. But also because of this:

Anger flashed across the child’s face. “If she tries I will have my brother kill her.”

Wouldn’t it be the most delicious irony if that doesn’t work out because the YMB has already taken Jaime away from her? We don’t really know what form “cast you down and take all you hold dear” will take, and there’s plenty of room there for interpretation. Taking Jaime’s attention from her is definitely something in that area.

“Will the king and I have children?” she asked.

“Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you.”

If Maggy were answering honestly, she would say you’ll have children, sure, but they won’t be conceived with the king. Instead she just lets the little girl sit there with her confusion.

“Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds,” she said. “And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.”

Every word in the sentences above is controversial. I’m gonna make it worse.

We’ve long assumed “gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds” means Cersei’s children will all be crowned monarchs, and they’ll all die young. Cersei seems to think it means that.

But what if...she actually doesn’t mean that? What if this is Maggy’s way of telling Cersei her children will not be the king’s children? What if “crowns” does not refer to literal crowns, but to her children’s blond hair? 

And gold, their shrouds: okay, so, when each child dies, they’ll be wrapped in a golden shroud. 

Does the prophecy say anything about when the children die?

“When your tears have drowned you” ----> This could mean a lot of things. Does it mean Cersei’s lost all three of her children? She thinks so. 

However: Myrcella has her cousin Rosamund Lannister of Lannisport with her as a handmaid and occasional stunt double. They go into a lot of detail about how much Rosamund looks like her and how they’ve used her to conceal Myrcella’s whereabouts.

Up close, Cersei would never mistake Rosamund for Myrcella. At a distance...someone might mistake her corpse for Myrcella’s and report it to the queen. 

I don’t want Rosamund to die. And maybe she’ll be fine! But I also suspect we haven’t yet seen how much Rosamund does for Myrcella. Just saying: a little girl of similar age and size and similar coloring is available. If Cersei thinks her children have all died, she may be mistaken.

As I was quoting: “When your tears have drowned you, the valonqar will wrap his hands around your pale white throat and choke the life from you.”

This is one of those debates I mentioned earlier. Cersei asked Maggy what valonqar means and Maggy ignored the question. Septa Saranella told her it’s High Valyrian for “little brother” so Cersei thinks it’s Tyrion. 

Most people think it’s Jaime because he’s technically younger than Cersei. I’ve looked up the High Valyrian vocab, and it does mean younger brother, or a younger male cousin via the father’s father, but I don’t think Maggy’s using it to mean Cersei’s literal brother. 

If Maggy were actually saying that Cersei’s brother would wrap his hands around her throat (and there’s another snag: Jaime doesn’t have plural hands to wrap around anything), then she would induce the same confusion in Cersei by saying to her, “your little brother will wrap his hands around your pale white throat and choke the life from you.” She’d be thinking Jaime, who’s only younger by minutes, and of course Cersei would think she meant Tyrion. 

But Maggy doesn’t say that, does she? Maggy, who speaks the Common Tongue well enough to turn phrases like “cast you down and take all you hold dear,” suddenly needs to use Valyrian to mention a younger brother? Really? Some of my restaurant co-workers called me mami and that doesn’t mean I’m their mother. 

What’s more likely: that Maggy suddenly forgot how to say “younger brother” in the Common Tongue, or that she’s using the Valyrian because she means something that doesn’t translate? And Cersei hasn’t stopped to consider that because Cersei doesn’t speak other languages?

I think it it means something else. Maggy lets her think it means little brother, and like everything else Maggy tells her, it’s not that simple. 

ANYWAY I WAS TALKING ABOUT MYRCELLA.

Golden crowns and golden shrouds, she says. Joffrey’s worn a golden crown and Tommen’s now wearing a golden crown. Someone’s already tried to put a crown on Myrcella and it didn’t work out. Golden crown can also be a flowery way to describe a head of pretty blond curls. Given Cersei’s marriage to a king from a consistently black-haired family, her children having blond hair is more newsworthy than their wearing literal crowns made of literal gold.

Gold their crowns and gold, their shrouds. When Maggy brings up shrouds, that probably pertains to their deaths. “Shroud” can refer to whatever the corpse is wearing at the funeral. Lord Tywin’s gold armor, for example. It could be a gown made of cloth-of-gold? Anyway! The image of Cersei’s children shrouded in gold suggests that when they die, they will be entombed as Lannisters, not as Baratheons. Doesn’t say anything about the circumstances or timing of their deaths. 

Book-version, Myrcella has survived a near-death experience with a disfigured face. Someone tried to crown her; didn’t work. Someone tried to kill her; she lost an ear. For Myrcella to come that close to dying, and lose an ear in the process, only to die in some other mishap while she’s still a kid? Feels sloppy. 

Uncle Tyrion survived a near-death experience and lost his nose. Uncle-Dad Jaime lost his sword hand and found a way to keep going. Lady Brienne nearly died in the fight with Biter and got a big hole chewed in her face. Now Myrcella’s survived a murder attempt while losing an ear and part of her cheek. Seems like she’ll be in good company with House Lannister. The golden shroud can come later; much later. Decades later. 

[phantomoftheparadise0002]

Something very racist happend in a bookstore here in belgium today 😠. A asian girl was shopping with her boyfriend from afghanistan when suddenly a woman in the store screamed very racist things at them like: 'you two are belgian? I don't think so! Go back to your own damn country. Leave us belgian alone, mind your own business.' The girl and her boyfriend stayed calm. But the racist lady kept screaming. The shop owner tried to cool the lady down. She risks to go to jail for a year but now the woman claims she has some physical problems... Bullshit. She is just a big fat racist. Stop being racist!! 😠

Here's the video:

[zoe-oneesama]

I wish the show isn't so focused on the love square and spotlight more on Marinette and Adrien as themselves. It seems as if all their major issues are related to their love life, especially when it comes to Marinette and it bugs me so much. She is such a passionate girl and yet they only focus on that aspect of her life. Growing up is so much more than finding love, and you can also find happiness in other things.

I was fine with at first but now that we’re two (THREE!) seasons in and there’s been no progress, I am over it. 

And you’re right that if it’s not having to do with Adrien or Chat, a lot of Marinette’s issues aren’t given any time or appreciation. She’s expected to move on from it in one or two lines of dialogue. Her moving to New York being the most egregious example of this, but basically any episode featuring Marinette Has to be Better Than Her Bullies So Who Cares About Her and Her Feelings.

More Marinette the Designer, More Marinette the Baker’s Daughter, More Marinette the Class President! And Less Marinette Being Jerked Around by a Boy That Doesn’t See Her That Way!!

And I can say the same for Adrien. If Adrien’s on screen it’s dedicated to restating the fucking obvious that his dad super sucks or it has something to do with his Love of Ladybug. Him going out to see his Mom’s movie was the only bit of character expansion I can think of, but like, what do we know about Adrien besides his home life sux a fat one and that he’s Woe Begone by his Love of Ladybug?

Does Adrien like any of his extra curricular activities and which ones does he hate? What other video games does he like? What do him and Nino do when they actually hang out? Or him and Chloe? WHO EVEN IS ADRIEN?!

Marinette is the MC of this show so obviously if they did any kind of “outside romance, let’s expand character [x]” I want it to go to her first and foremost but I also wouldn’t mind if they devoted some of that screen time they’re wasting on Adrien to actually tell us something new about him.

Edit: It’s also insulting to insinuate if you’re not in a relationship you won’t be happy. I was fine with Marinette and Adrien being sad that their love isn’t returned, it’s just annoying they have to come to this conclusion at the same time that the writers give them backup lovers. I’ve said before that Adrien needs to learn to be a better friend before he jumps into a relationship with ANYone and I think Marinette would need a cool down period to relove herself if not just for her sake but for her next relationship’s sake. I feel like the person Marinette is she would constantly be feeling guilty for treating someone like a rebound (and I definitely want better for Luka than for him to be a pity date)

[planet-neun]

Pretty

Rating: M? R? It’s smut. Children begone.

Word Count: 2830

Summary: Jeanette appreciates Ace in a dress like we all wish we could

The premise for the party wasn’t out of the ordinary. Paul would be celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday, the idea readily agreed to by all, with Bill commandeering the venue's kitchen to throw a cake together. While the makeup was easy enough to scrounge up via girlfriends and Sean’s personal collection, wrangling dresses for all of them in two hours that were half-way flattering proved to be a bigger challenge. Jeanette had been a godsend; while the rest of the guys ran around downtown Lincoln looking for suitable options, she’d brought a few along on the off-chance she felt like a particularly glamorous night out. And Ace, upon holding the garments up, appeared just skinny enough to squeeze into at least a couple of them.

That was how Jeanette found herself sitting on a plush couch, watching her husband fling open the dressing room curtain and step out, hands poised at his waist, hip cocked and grinning like mad. “So?” He asked, popping a leg and sweeping his arm along it before tossing his head back and striking a pose. “Whatcha think?” He asks, gesturing to the long purple nightgown. She cocked a brow at him.

“Those are my pajamas, Paul. You’re not ruining my pajamas with beer and cake. I need them.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say you need them,”

She stares blankly at him.

“No.”

He laughs and smiles. “Alright, no jammies,” He retreats back behind the curtain. After a lot of rustling, a thump, and a grunt, he comes back out.

“How ‘bout this?”

She stifles a groan even as she smiles. “You can’t close the zipper. And it’s way too short for you. Pass.”

He grumbles something about a ‘party-pooper’, even as he shuffles back out of sight. He comes back out in half the time as the last one, looking just a little bit nervous.

“This one?”

The dress itself wasn't one of her favourites; the fabric on the wrong side of too light for the number of layers it had, high-maintenance on a windy day, the soft cream against her skin and hair washed her out. It was comfortable though, loose and long enough to keep from worrying about updrafts without sacrificing ease of movement. She certainly appreciated it now. The cut allowed room for his shoulders, pulling flat at the chest and masking the fact it was made for someone with breasts in mind. The bell sleeves fell about an inch below his elbows, and the longest skirt to the crook of his knee. When she wears it, she feels matronly and just a tad off-kilter. On him, it's boxy in a way that makes him soft and delicate, and he looks good.

Really good.

She doesn't feel like thinking too hard about how that makes her insides flutter.

“Come here often, doll?” She asks instead, crossing her legs and leaning forward, propping her chin up on her hand. He laughs then, softens his voice and drawls. “Oh, heavens no, Ah came here lookin’ for somethin’ nice for a party, just seem to be a lil lost now, y’hear?” She grins, lets her eyes rake over him, approving. “Well if you don’t mind me sayin’, you look mighty fine in that number there,” He bats his eyelashes at her and clasps his hands behind his back. “Ah bet you say that to all the gal's, y'old sweet talker you,”

“Sweet as icing, darlin’. Now I reckon it's high time you come on over here an’ see if we can't make somethin’ nice outta your sugar.” Ace gasps, presses a hand to his chest in mock offence.

“Sah, Ah'll have you know Ah’m married,”

There's a large part of her that preens at that, pleased as punch while the rest if her struggles to stay in character.

“Well, can't say I'm surprised t'hear that, a pretty thing like you. Whoever got your hand must know a thinger two about somethin',”

There's a shift in the air then, as he cocks his head, and she swears she watches his pupils blow wide. He lowers his hand, smooths both of them down the sides of the dress, slowing as he reaches his hips, brushing imaginary dirt off the garment before he struts towards her. He stops when their knees touch, her nose about level with his thigh. He watches for a moment as the hemline flutters under her breaths and takes her hands in his, pulling them apart before shifting to sit on her lap. It's easy enough spreading her legs to make room for his. He settles across them and drapes his arms around her shoulders, props one foot up on the cushion while the other hangs, toes brushing the floor, letting her body take his full weight. He's warm, still bony, but softer now in his stomach and thighs - a feat she hadn't thought possible even a year ago.

He's been tall and gangly, like a sapling, since she met him- gotten his roots in just right and anchored himself to her. She'd nourished him in kind, seen into his cracks and urged him to be better to and for himself. Seeing their efforts paying off makes something good squeeze in her chest, she can’t help herself as she presses her lips firm against his, smiles into it when he lets out a happy sigh against her cheek.

She brushes back his curtain of hair, tucking it behind his ear while she continues to press kisses to his lips, his jaw, below his ear, down to his throat. She plants a long, sucking kiss there as she skims her fingers over his ankle, up to his calf and around his shin, slips under the hem and up along his thigh, squeezing softly before finding her goal, stroking the bare flesh of his shaft. The lack of underthings aren’t a surprise. It’s the image of him walking around like that flitting through her head that has her sucking in a breath, giving him a firm pump and burying her face in the crook of his neck. She peppers kisses there, as many as she can- grazes her teeth along his pulse as she continues to stroke, drinking in his soft groans. She glances at his face to find him staring heavy-lidded into his lap. Following his gaze, she lets out a groan at the sight. The dress is draped over his proud cock, shifting as she works him and doing nothing to obscure the slide of her hand, nor the bob of her prize.

She curls one hand around the underside of his jaw and gently pulls his head down to the couch, squeezing his shaft in approval as he goes without a fight, back arching. She slides her hand to his spine and traces it to the small of his back where she presses up. He gets the memo and raises his hips for her. She curls down, presses her lips to his stomach before moving to do the same to his tip. The fabric is soft and slightly cool under her lips, warming with Ace’s growing body heat. She feels his cock twitch against her lips and smiles, straightening back up and stroking his cheek.

“You’re being so good,” she sighs out. Ace groans and his hips buck up; Jeanette grins.

“Yeah? You like it? Like being a good girl for me?” He groans again and nods hard, rolls his hips up into her hand. She licks over her palm, then slips it back under the dress to close around his cockhead, squeeze and slide all the way down, rubbing at his perineum with her thumb. He bucks and cries out, clings to her arm like a lifeline.

She lets go of his shaft, lifts his hips off her lap so she can perch over him, splay him on the couch proper. “That’s it, keep your skirts down for me honey.” She croons, petting his thigh. “Good, that's good,” She kisses his cheek, then kisses him full on when he moans, slow and easy. She kisses him till she's lightheaded, breaks off and presses her forehead to his, delights in his expressions. Her love for him blooms hot seeing his eyelashes flutter, how he's gripping his skirts for dear life as he tries to keep from pushing up to meet her; his cock pushing up against the fabric making it clear it's got other plans.

She's aching in her core, watching him fall apart so easily for her. She seals her lips to his for an instant and pulls back. “I’ve got an idea,” She grins. “You game?” His head lolls to better catch her eyes. He gives her a slow, dopey smile and nods “Uh-huh” .

She shucks off her pants and underwear and settles back between his thighs. She throws a leg over one of Ace's, hikes his other over her hip, and presses her folds to his shaft. He sighs out at the contact, rubbing his cheek against the couch as he tries and fails to keep his hips still, grabbing at the back of her knee instead. She groans in kind, unrestrained as she rolls herself against his arousal. There’s no illusion that it's anything other than his cock- fat and hard and hot against her. She bites her lip, sound catching in her throat as she trembles and begins to rut in earnest, bracing herself with the hand at his hip and using the other to press his thigh up till it's flush with his chest, groaning when his mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut. A thrill runs down her spine seeing him like this, seeing him sprawled under her, his hair a dark halo around his face, damp ends curling at his cheeks.

“Paulie, Paulie you look so good, you're so beautiful” She curls down to him, panting as she mouths at his collarbone, trails kisses up to just under his ear and sucks a mark into the flesh there. “You’re so pretty like this,” She pants into his skin. “So pretty, and I don't have to share you with anyone,”

The last part is false; a blatant lie and they both know it, but it's worth the momentary unease for the way Ace's cock twitches, the way he moans and squeezes her thigh. He's still got his one hand fisted in his skirts and the sight is so endearing she can't help but kiss him breathless.

She presses her mouth to his again and again, kissing him deep and feeling him melt beneath her. His thigh quivers in her grasp, the one under her jerking every now and then; he's close.  She flattens herself against him, presses her breasts to his chest and kisses him for all she's worth. He abandons his skirts in favour of wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight as he comes with a cry, head lolled and eyes closed, heaving. Jeanette watches him come down, pressing kisses to his cheek and jaw, still idly rubbing herself on him. He blinks his eyes open and looks up at her “Not yet?” She smiles and shakes her head.

Ace is immediately hauling her up to sit on his face, burying his nose in her curls and breathing deep, pressing a kiss to the crease of her thigh before going to town. She lets her head fall back and moans loud, carding her hands through his hair as she grinds down against his tongue. Ace wraps his arms around her, fingers sinking into the meat of her thighs as he keeps her sex flush with his lips, warm and slippery with her own arousal.

Ace doesn't need to stick his tongue out at any opportunity to prove he knows how to use it; she knows, but appreciates the reminder anyways. He's got that hot little bundle of nerves of hers under delicious pressure, the soft lip and flat of his tongue loving on it while he rubs the end of the muscle over the sensitive stretch of skin below her entrance.

He slips one hand to her ass, squeezes and urges her to rock, to use him as she likes. She moans out her approval at that, sinking her fingers deeper into his locks and tugging , scratches her nails against his scalp for good measure. He keens, straining up like he can fuse them together if he just tries hard enough, slurping loudly as he sucks on her folds. She's dripping wet and aching, spit and slick smearing down her thighs from Ace's efforts -a messy eater on the best days-, pushing his tongue up into her, curling it and dragging more out of her like a man dying of thirst.  The obscene noises would have her in stitches if she could focus on anything other than the stimulation making her breath hitch and her thighs tremble.

It's too much now, far too much, her hand flies to one of Ace’s still gripping her thigh and  locks their fingers together, uses the other to keep Ace’s head still so she can press that little bit closer. Her head tips back, and with an “Oh, Paul”, she comes.

She stays there for a moment, basks in the thrumming in her limbs, the loose and happy warmth rolling through her in waves and tries to catch her breath. She sighs, lifts up and  leans back to look at Ace’s face. He's starry eyed and panting, lips and cheeks and chin glistening with her love. He holds her gaze as he licks it from the corner of his mouth. She cups his face and kisses him hard, groans at the easy slide of their lips, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs and rubs her slick into his skin. She pulls back and Ace closes his eyes, lets out a happy sigh as he smiles.

She eventually shimmies down off Ace's shoulders to sit on his stomach instead, sprawling herself over him as much as she can on the narrow couch. Propping herself up on her elbow, she brushes his sweaty hair away from his forehead, watching him watch her as he catches his breath. She presses her lips to the underside of his jaw. “That was really good.” She murmurs into his skin, reveling in the way his pulse jumps. “Would you be up for that again?” He nods, post-orgasm lethargy draping his arms heavy across her back and holding her there even as his hips twitch up against her. “You know I have panties that go with this,” She tugs at the fabric at his waist for good measure. “You wanna wear them as well?”

Ace's arms stiffen slightly at that. She glances up and snorts at the conflicted look on his face. She stretches up to smack a kiss to his cheek and smile at him. “It won't be for long,” The conflict morphs to pain, nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling as he frowns up at her, blinks. She kisses his cheek again, still smiling, and rolls her hips against his stomach to prove her point. “I promise,”

The gears turn away in his head for a few seconds, lips pursing before a grin splits his face and he hugs her closer, kissing her in turn and squeezing her hip. “Mmmyeah. Okay,” She grins back at him, shifts to slot their lips together again and stops short at the lukewarm squelch between their bodies. Upon inspection she finds Ace's partially congealed spunk clinging to the dress and, now, smeared on her stomach. She's aware of the grimace on her face when Ace cracks up under her, jostling them both and failing to get himself under control. She scoots herself over, keeping balance on her forearms as she assesses the damage to the fabric. It needs a wash before it’s able to face the general public again; it won't be ready to use for the party. She doesn't consider that a loss - the heat in her gut at being the sole spectator to the ordeal dictates the opposite to be true. Instead she hauls herself upright, takes another long look at her husband, sated and sweaty and disheveled in one of her dresses, commits it to memory before turning to locate her pants. She pulls them on, smiling to herself when Ace groans behind her. She picks up her discarded panties, hooking a finger through one leg hole and turning to face him again.

“C'mon,” she says as she lines her arm up with Ace's chest, pulling the waistband taut and letting go abruptly. She snorts at his indignant squawk as they thwap over his eyes. “We still need to find you a dress,” He lifts the delicate garment from his face, slips his fingers through both legs and holds them up. She watches the gears turn in his brain before something seems to click.

“Hey,” he says, bouncing the elastic between his hands, grinning and looking over to her.

“Have you got the blue one?”

[gluttonygirls]

Fat gay-mer

“I like gamer girls, but E-thots can begone.”

[beyondforks]

Tour: A Review & Excerpt of Fat Girl Begone! by D.E. Haggerty

Fat Girl Begone! by D.E. Haggerty Genre: Adult (Contemporary Romance) Date Published: May 1, 2017 Publisher: Self

I’m a total mess. My boyfriend dumped me – get this – because I diet too much. Not because I’m fat, mind you. Of course, this spurs me into the diet-fitness-revenge-plan of the century, which leads me to the gym and a scorching hot personal trainer. I even manage to make some cool new friends, including a millionaire if you can believe it. Things are looking up! Naturally, that’s the moment my ex decides he wants me back, the personal trainer asks me out, and my millionaire male buddy decides to throw his hat in the ring. But that’s not enough drama. No, not for me. Because I’ve also lost my job and decided to start my own business. Just call me Ms. Drama. 

Warning: Bad language, bumpy roads, and embarrassing moments ahead. But there’s also more than a bit of romance and even, if we’re lucky, love. Fingers crossed.

Not endorsed by or affiliated with any brand of tequila. 

Fat Girl Begone by D.E. Haggerty was a cute and funny story about a woman who has so many things going for her, but doesn't have the self esteem to back it up. Everly has allowed her long time boyfriend to let her feel worthless for far too long, but she doesn't even realize it yet. So, when he dumps her, she feels like the world has ended. Fortunately, she has kept her sense of humor through it all. I thought Everly was from England at first, because there were a few British slang words thrown, but the story seemed to take place in America, so I'm not sure where it actually took place. No biggie though. I think the words are fun, so I didn't mind. I enjoyed Everly's adventures and misadventures as she found herself with the help of friends and working out. My biggest gripe was, the dialog didn't always feel natural. The characters all had these words that they'd continuously use, and it got distracting. For example, one of Everly's friends addressed people as "Bitches" all the time. I mean ALL the time. Another, addressed people as "Chica" every time she spoke as well. There were more. It was like each character had their own word they used to address others, and they used it pretty much every time they spoke. This felt awkward, because people don't naturally talk like that in every single conversation. But, back to the story. It was definitely entertaining, and I enjoyed watching Everly's confidence in herself grow. She's quirky and fun, and I love that. It was also empowering, as she is a character that most woman can relate to in many ways.

Fat Girl Begone! by D.E. Haggerty was kindly provided to me by Reading Addiction Book Tours for review. The opinions are my own.

“You should totally jump that, chica.” It’s Monday, and I’ve just survived another Zumba class. I only hit Tara once. Okay, twice, but who’s counting? I’m still trying to catch my breath and stop my heart from jumping out of my ribcage. None of which stops me from panting after my personal trainer. Before I get a chance to respond to her comment or tear my eyes away from Gabe’s epic ass, the rest of the gang joins Tara and me. “What are you bitches yapping about?” Oh great, Charise didn’t just say that at maximum volume or anything. “Everly taking her personal trainer for a ride.” Oh my god. Please tell me no one else heard Tara announce that I’m lusting after Gabe. I hear giggles and murmurs of agreement from the other exercisers exiting the group exercise room. Of course, everyone heard. Charise, Tara, Naomi, and Jessie have one volume – embarrassingly loud. I ignore them and head to the locker rooms with my head down. Of course, I can’t help but sneak another glance at Gabe. He’s doing squats for God’s sake! I defy any woman – or man for that matter – to not look. I keep my eyes glued to those glutes as I walk in the opposite direction. My foot hits something and before I know it I’m going down. I end up sprawled on the floor of the gym. I look down at my outfit and sigh in relief. Good. No rolls of fat are showing. Thankfully, I had put a long sweatshirt on over the loose tank I was wearing during class. A hand appears in front of my face. “Let me help you up, babe.” I look up to see yet another example of male perfection. Does this gym have a portal to Mount Olympus for the Greek Gods to come and go as they please? Because damn. This is one fine specimen of manhood in front of me. “Babe?” His voice startles me out of my perusal of his perfection. I reach out and he grabs my hand to pull me up. Only he doesn’t stop there. He pulls me flush to his body and then leans down to whisper in my ear. “It’s okay, babe. Happens all the time when girls look at me.” And crash. There goes my adulation of the man. I knew there was a reason no one believes in the Greek Gods anymore. Vanity is not attractive. I pull on my hand until he releases me. “Thanks.” “You okay, sweetheart?” As if I couldn’t be embarrassed enough, now Gabe’s here. “I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see the former Greek God puff out his chest as if I had paid him a compliment. I can’t help it. My eyes narrow at him, and I attempt to engage my eye lasers. Just like the two gazillion other times I’ve tried to use those lasers, they malfunction. Gabe ignores the entire episode. “You here to do your exercise class?” “Nope.” I shake my head. “I just put on some workout clothes and then ducked my head under the faucet to get my face and hair wet.” My personal trainer laughs and grabs my shoulder to give it a squeeze. Why is he squeezing my shoulder? “You’re funny, sweetheart.” I wasn’t going for funny but whatever. Someone shouts ‘Gabe’ from the other side of the gym. I look over to see the blond bimbo he was training staring daggers at me. Gabe squeezes my shoulder again. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need to get back to work. I’ll see you Wednesday, right?” I nod, and he winks before walking off. “Looks like I’m not needed here.” I forgot Mr. Vanity was still standing here. I don’t bother responding to his obvious pout. I shake my head and walk to the locker rooms.

I grew-up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom's Harlequin romances, to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn't flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before deciding to follow the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book. Fat girl Begone! is my eleventh book. To learn more about D.E. Haggerty and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, Instagram, Google+, Pinterest, and Twitter.

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[wendyandcharles]

Fat Girl Begone!

Brayton's Briefs

So, this morning, I’m not surprised when the guest author shows up at my doorstep. Yes, this time she was expected. I’m all ready to whisk her away to destination unknown (her choice) and conduct an interview, but instead, she shows my her guest blog.

“But, I had an interview all ready for you. We’ll sit on the beach or at a bistro or on top of a tall mountain-”

“Please!” she drawls. “I’m am not going up any mountain, least not today.”

“But-”

And, you know what happens next. Yep, I’m nudged aside and she sits at my new laptop and, well, no mountain top for me today.

________________________________________________

Readers, reviewers, family members – let’s just say pretty much everyone – assumes that writers use the people they know as characters in their novels. Friends and acquaintances will spend hours debating which character was them. The discussions can get…

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Filed under: independent authors from Fat Girl Begone!

[joylee56]

With this Broom I Thee Wed

for fluffapalooza 2018, Happy Belated Rumbelleversary,

This takes place in the universe of myBonnie Wee Librarian story. You don’t need to have read that story though. Only know that here, Belle escaped from Regina after her capture in “The Outsider” and made it back to the Dark Castle to Rumple’s welcoming arms.

“It is true, young lady,”  The magistrate of Glome informed the chestnut haired woman seated in front of him condescendingly, “I am empowered to officiate at marriages.  However, decent folk opt for religious services.  I suggest you, or far better your father or fiance apply to the clerics or to the fairies.”

Smiling the lady told him,  “Both my fiance and I have cause not to trust either the clerics or the fairies, Magistrate.  Which is why we are inquiring about a civil ceremony.”

The Magistrate snorted. ��“Better you should repent your ways and make peace with the clerics before you marry, girl.  I’m sure your father would tell you the same.”

“I’m sure he would, but since my father’s subservience to the clerics is in large part the reason I distrust them, I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon.”  She rose.  Fingers toying with a gold colored woolen thread tied around her left wrist.  “It distresses me that a civil servant of King Midas is refusing to perform the duties of his office.  I will feel obliged to mention this to Princess Abigail the next time I write her.”

The magistrate finally took in the rich brocade of her cloak and the fineness of the walking dress she wore under it.  He spoke more hesitantly now.  “And how comes a woman at odds with the clerics to communicate with Princess Abigail?”

“Before the ogres attacked the Marchlands the Princess would come to study with my mother, Lady Colette.”  The woman smiled sadly.  “Our library was renown.  Sadly what the ogres started the clerics finished and it is no more.  I would be ‘at odds’ with them for that alone even if they had not filled my father’s ears with malice toward my fiance.”

“You’re, you’re… “  the magistrate shoved back from his desk so fast his chair overturned.  “Lady Belle, the Dark One’s whore!  Begone! Guards!  Guard!”

Belle sighed and did not wait for the guards to make it through the door.  Breaking the thread tied around her wrist, a cloud of red smoke surrounded her as she vanished.

To appear in the great hall of the Dark Castle.  Rumplestiltskin was just finishing preparing her a cup of tea.  He held it out to her.  “No luck I take it?”

“No.”  She signed and took the tea.  “I got a lecture on how a proper young woman would apply, or rather have her father apply for her, to the clerics to be wed.”

Sometimes it was wise to heavily edit her reports to Rumple.  Telling him about the fellow calling her a whore might well result in King Midas having to have the Magistrate’s chambers redecorated to get the blood stains out of the carpets before he replaced him.  Besides she could deal with that on her own.  “I shall write to Abigail today and let her know the sort of sexist misanthrope she has serving her in Glome. She would not stand for it if she was aware of it.”

“True, Princess Abigail is quite a competent administrator.”  Rumple sipped his own tea.  “Rare thing among royals.

“Present company excepted.”  He smiled at her.

“I’m not a royal, Rumple.”  She reminded him.  “Merely the daughter of a merchant knight who married into a Barony.”

“Your mother’s bloodline is older than any of the royals in the kingdoms, my dear. By their own rules you outrank the lot of them”

Despite several lifetimes of dealing with Kings and Princes, Rumple’s peasant origins still showed in the way he found the distinctions of rank that royals and members of the aristocracy lived for ridiculous. “Power is what matters, Dearie.  Not whatever silly titles they string after their names.”  He had told her early on, when she had rebuked him for letting the Emperor of Agatean wait on the stoop in a snowstorm.  

But those were not the pressing issues at hand.  

Belle set down her teacup in front of Rumple and herself on his lap, putting her legs across the armrest of his chair.  Rumple hummed happily and put the arm not holding his cup around her waist to hold her tight against his chest.  Nuzzling her hair.

This had become a favorite position since her return to the Dark Castle.  It brought them close without the risk of an accidental kiss if their snuggling got out of hand.

Something Belle was becoming more and more desirous of.  From the way Rumple’s hands were more frequently coming to wander to places her governess had severely warned her against allowing, he apparently felt the same.

Today he merely set down his tea and started to undo her boot.  Leaning back with a sigh as he removed the first, she suggested.  “Perhaps we need to go farther afield to find an officiant.  Someplace where you haven’t had dealings?”

“I had thought of that.”  Rumple sounded contrite.  “I even went through my atlases.  Unfortunately even the places where I haven’t dealt have almost all been er… visited by at least one of my predecessors.  The repute of the Dark One is nearly universal.”

“Nearly?”  That sounded promising.

“Somehow we’ve overlooked the Pearl Islands.”  He told her.  “Mostly because, despite the name, the islands have nothing to recommend them except fat pigs and a porridge they eat that is described as tasting like library paste.

“Not to mention they’re polygamous.  We’d need to round up at couple more people to be wed there.”

“No.  That won’t do.”  Belle agreed.  “Do we have to have a wedding?  Could not something else work as well?”

Rumple sighed.  Her second boot joined the first and he began to rub her feet.  Rumple gave wonderful foot massages, but she was not going to let him distract her that easily.

“In theory, no.” He admitted.  “The ‘work around’ I’ve developed to keep True Love’s Kiss from breaking my curse basically channels off the power behind True Love and holds it in abeyance until such time as we want to let it loose.

“But there is a tremendous amount of power to channel.  So we need to ground it to a symbolic act that is both comparable with True Love and meaningful enough in its own right to have the strength to sustain it.”  He shrugged.  “A wedding is the obvious course.  I’d no realized that the ceremony itself would be the sticking point.”

Not to mention Belle suspected that Rumple’s peasant Frontlands background made him reluctant to bed her without offering her honorable marriage.  The Frontlands was a prudish place from what she had read.  

Rumple retreated to his workroom to see if he could ‘tweek’, as he put it, his work around.  From the frowns he wore as he emerged for meals and periodic sessions at his wheel it was not going well.

In three days he emerged from his tower, accompanied by a dark and foul smelling cloud of smoke, to ask her,  “Be a dear and run done to town and see if the midwife has any dried raspberry leaf.  I need at least four ounces.”

As she neared the town that had grown up on the lands that made up the Dark Castle’s estate, it occurred to her that they had been overlooking a rather obvious spot in their search.  

The midwife, as usual, was happy to exchange a large bag of dried herbs for Rumple’s gold.  “Will He be needing more?  I’ll harvest some and set them drying just in case.”

The townsfolk always showed Rumple a wary deference, but at the same time paid their, comparatively low and paid in the form of goods and services rather than coin, taxes to the castle without complaint.  They also gladly sold Belle any goods she was sent to collect.

“His gold spends as well as any other.”  The Head of the Town Council had told Belle on one of her early trips to town.  “And as long as you’re no stupid enough to cross Him, He leaves us mostly to ourselves.  True He can kill with a gesture, but so can any other lord.  At least here we’re free govern ourselves as we will.  Having to marvel when He shows off one of His tricks is a small price to pay for being safe from outlaws and not having to send our children off to war.”

Leaving the midwife with her purchase, Belle went in search of the town Notary.  Who immediately put down her pen and rose to bob a rough curtsey.  “Lady Belle, I was hoping to catch you.  Please let Him know that the new potter and his family are settling in nicely.  Already have their kiln built and firing.  They’ve done up an absolutely beautiful tiered serving tray to thank Him for letting them settle here.”

The Notary leaned in lowered her voice,  “King George was going to draft both of their girls into his army.  Can you imagine?  Why the younger ones only sixteen.”  

Belle nodded.  “We were drafting boys that young to fight the ogres by the end of the war in my father’s barony.  In the Marchlands they don’t take women as soldiers.”

“From what I hear, King George’s army doesn’t take the girls as soldiers either.”  The Notary said with disapproval.  “We’ve all told them that they’ve nothing to worry about on that front here, but I think they’ll be more assured after they meet you.  And you can take the serving tray back with you.”

“Certainly.” The townsfolk had assumed from the beginning that Belle’s principal duties had been warming Rumple’s bed.  Instead of treating her like a fallen woman though, they had shown her as much respect as if she were the lady of the castle rather than it’s ‘caretaker’.

To the point of defending her honor with their fists whenever outsiders referred to her as the Dark One’s whore.  “Well, we’re no stupid.”  The Notary had told her bluntly when Belle had the courage to raise the issue with the plain spoken woman.

“You’ve got His ear.  And there’s never been another woman either up at the castle or here in town that He’s shown an interest in as far back as anyone can remember.  So it stands to reason He’s right taken with you.  Getting on your bad side would be a quick way to end up squashed under His boot.”

“Beside,”  the Notary had continued,  “It reflects well on the town to have a fine lady as ‘caretaker’ up at the castle.  The Seneschal’s wife over in Entestadt is illiterate and bucktoothed to boot.”

Entestadt was the nearest large town on the other side of the river which marked the boundary of Queen Regina’s lands.  It was the townsfolk's arch rival, not just for trade but in the odd game played in this part of the world where a ball was kicked about a large field.  Rumple had sent Belle off to act as his representative for the last match with Entestadt.  Even after he explained the rules to her, she still did not understand it, but had dutifully applauded whenever the town team had managed to kick the ball between the two posts at Entestadt’s end of the field.  And toasted the players’ victory with the same sort of speech she used to give to the winners of jousting competitions in the Marchlands.

“But before I meet the potter and his family, I have a question.  How do people here in town get married?”  Belle asked.  “There’s no cleric or magistrate to officiate.”

“Depends.”  The Notary’s eyes dropped to Belle’s waist and hurriedly looked up again.  “Those that want a religious ceremony go down river to Beaver Creek.  There’s a cleric closer, but the one there only insists you go through two hours of ‘purification’, before being sufficiently cleansed to be allowed to enter the Sacred Grove. Course he charges twice as much if you live on the lands belonging to the Dark Castle.”

“And if you don’t need a religious ceremony?”

“Well, legally all you need to do is sign the Book of Records and pay the recording fee. For an extra silver I do up a nice certificate you can hang on the wall or send home to the parents to prove you really are married.” The Notary told her.  “Those that can afford it and want to have a party, will jump the broom in the town square after they sign the Book.  For a few silvers Big and Little Jock will get out their fiddles, round up a drummer who can keep time and play dance tunes. Generally the couple or their families will set out some sort of food and a cask of ale for those who turn out.”

“How long do you suppose it would take to pull something like that together?”  Belle asked.  “Assuming the groom arranged for the feast.”

“Full moon’s in five days.”  The Notary shrugged.  “That’s always a good night for a party.”

Five days later just before dusk Belle and Rumplestiltskin stood before the Notary.  He in a beautifully cut suit of wool in the darkest burgundy, heavily embroidered with his own gold thread.  She in a much less constricting, but still form fitting version of the gold gown she was wearing when she first met him.

They signed their names on a clean page in the record book with suitable flourishes. Rumplestiltskin handed over a bag of gold that would not only pay the Notary’s stipend for the entire year, but probably fund the attached school as well.

They exited the Notary’s office to find the broom laid out in front of the door and the entire town gathered around the square.  “Told you they would turn out if we offered them a free meal.”  Rumple muttered in her ear.

The ‘free meal’ was in fact a feast.  Trestle tables were pushed up against the buildings on one side of the square covered in platters of meats, cheeses, bread, fruit, and a mutton, oatmeal and onion pudding that Rumple swore was required for wedding feasts in the Frontlands. There was so much food that the pastries and sweets that were served at Marchlands weddings had to have an entire separate table as did the casks of wine and ale.  

“I think they just want to wish us well.”  Belle whispered back.  “Although I’ll grant you the curiosity factor is probably high.  The wedding of their liege lord is a once in a lifetime affair after all.”

She reached out to take his hand.  “Best to not disappoint them.”

“Indeed not.” Louder, so that the crowd could hear he intoned.  “If you will have me, Belle, I take you to be my wife and vow to be your faithful and loving husband.”

The crowd around them fell away in Belle’s eyes and she saw only her beloved Rumple. “I will most certainly have you, Rumplestiltskin, forever as my husband and I vow to be your faithful and loving wife.”

His hand tighten on hers.  “Shall we then?”  He gestured at the broom.  The townsfolk had wrapped it in the same flowers that bedecked the tables.  Turning it from a household implement into a thing of beauty.

She gathered up her skirts so they would not interfere with the jump.  “We shall.”

They jumped as one. Landing easily on the other side of the broom.  The townsfolk let up a cheer.  Belle giggled as Rumple hugged her.  “Just one last thing.”  

Producing his flask he pour a generous measure into two crystal goblets and offered her one.  “The binding potion.  I used some Marchlands cognac for the base.”

Marchlands cognac did not as a rule bubble and definitely was not lavender, but Belle took a glass and then intertwined their arms.  As they drank she felt a rush of warmth.  The bubbles seemed to flow from her lips through her whole body.  They passed off just as quickly leaving her feeling slightly giddy.  Although that could be the thrill of marrying Rumple.

Or possibly the cognac.

Rumple was smiling down at her with an equally whimsical expression.  From someone in the nearby crowd she heard a comment.  “… heard him say something about the Marchlands.  Must be a custom of Lady Belle’s people.”

Another voice responded.  “’Tis a lovely custom.  I think our Isla should do it when she marries her Ben this fall.”

From the other side of the square a young male voice called out,  “Kiss her already!”

This appeared to be a popular sentiment as other voices took up a chant of “Kiss, her! Kiss, her!”

The Head of the Town Council was standing close enough so that Belle could see the poor man looking like he expected Rumple to turn the lot of them into snails.  It made her giggle

Definitely the cognac.

“Do you think it’s safe to kiss?”  She asked Rumple.

“Only one way to find out.”  He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

Grinning he told her.  “Appears to be.  Though I think more experimentation is called for to be sure.”

“Oh, yes!” Standing on tiptoe she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him properly.

Leaving poor Rumple with no choice but to encircle her waist with his arms to keep from being knocked over.  He did not appear to mind.

They did not break off until the applause sounded.  When they looked up, they found the townsfolk were filling various drinking containers with the wine and ale.  The Notary had the presence of mind to refill their goblets from a pitcher of wine she was taking round.

She raised her glass and toasted,  “A thousand welcomes to you with your marriage.  May you be blessed with long life and peace and may you grow old with goodness, and with riches.”

“Thank you.” Belle told her.  

The Notary glanced over at the Head of the Town Council and frowned.  Clearly the man was supposed to step in at this point.  But he was still a bit pale from the ‘kiss her’ chanting.  A couple of the Council members were chivying him forward.  

Taking up the slack the blacksmith raised his glass.  “M’ father gave me the best advise I ever got on m’ weddin’ day.  He said, son, let her know right from the beginnin’ who’s boss.  Look her right in the eye and say, ‘you’re the boss’.”  

He bowed at the laughter that got and then said,  “May your love be like the misty rain, gentle coming in but flooding the river.”

By now the Head of the Town Council appeared calmer.  He cleared his throat and began, “Sir and Lady Belle, honored we are to witness your wedding.  We hope you will permit us to wish you all the best in your married life.”

From the pause at the end of his remarks the speech was clearly supposed to be longer. One of the Council members, jumped in with,  “A toast to the bride and groom.  May they live happily ever after.”

That was a popular toast.  After that the entire crowd looked directly at them.  Belle nudged Rumple.  Who blinked and then realized he was suppose to respond.  “Yes, right.  Thank you good people for your well wishes. On behalf of myself and Lady Belle, my bride...”  This idea appeared to make him loose his train of thought as he looked down at her with a grin.

“We thank you for your kind wishes, and for joining with us to celebrate our happy day.”  Belle finished up for him.  “Please partake of the food and drink.  And didn’t someone say there would be dancing?”

“There will indeed.”  The Notary took up hint.  “Jocks, are you ready?”

“Let’s get this party going.”  A small man with a fiddle called out.  “First a waltz for the bride and groom.”

It turned out the Rumple was a very good dancer.  Leading her easily around the floor and even putting her through a few turns and lifts when he realized she could follow him.  He stole another kiss when the dance ended.  

Several other couple came out onto the floor for the next dance.  A lively jig that Belle had never danced before, but the steps were easy and her skirts hid all her mistakes.  At the end of it she was rather breathless.  “I need a break.  Shall we eat?”

“We could.” Rumple agreed.  “But it occurs to me that we have food and drink back at the castle.  And far more privacy.”

“I like the way you think, husband.”  

“In that case, wife.”  A quick gesture had red smoke surrounded them and they disappeared.  Leaving the townsfolk glancing at each other knowingly.

“Well the foods still here.”  The Notary commented.  “Might as well enjoy ourselves.  Clearly They’re going to.”

[stefandesofia]

Stories from the Unliving Ch 4

“So you’re the girl, huh? I have to say, quite a looker. I was really expecting worse, knowing the guy there, but hey, glad to be proven wrong!”

“I would really appreciate you not insulting me, thank you for that” said the young man. “She’s real intelligent and was very curious about meeting you”

“I bet! I’m not your run of the mill, pond-dwelling skeleton, that you meet in most other lakes. No, I also have some pretty fat fish too!”

“No need to be aggressive like that, she just wants to talk to you”

“Fine, fine, sorry. What did you want to talk about? ...... Hello?”

“She actually can’t speak, and uses her little writing board to communicate”

“Ah, sorry, my bad. But yeah, just write your messages and I’ll just work with that. ...... Ah yeah, I don’t know my name, don’t remember it any more. I already explained this to your friend here, but I’ve been alive for over 30.000 years, so a lot of the early stuff is gone. Stuff like who I was, family, friends, but after meeting soooo very many people, doing soooo many things, nothing gets left. It’s like, the more I learn, and experience, the closer the cutoff gets. The first thing I remember, at this point is when my flesh had just started to decay”

“He speaks the truth, but even still, he remembers so many others! He is a veritable academy’s worth of knowledge.”

“Sure, why not. ...... I mean, I live here, it’s my home, I don’t need to breathe or eat, or whatever, so I’ve made my home at the bottom of the pond here. I moved in here about 7000-8000 years ago, I had a house, actually, right over there, but decided that the upkeep on that is way more than I can be bothered with, so instead, I carved some stone furniture, and pushed it in the water, the house just degraded over time, and by now, the only thing you can see left of it, is that stone over there. That was my fireplace. Never even used the thing, it was just for aesthetics”

“I never realised you had a house here. I had assumed you’ve always lived in the pond itself. What made you go under the water?”

“Folk like you, actually. Or, I guess, how you were. Swords and armor, and ‘begone foul beast’ while I was just chilling on my porch. ...... I mean, I can’t die, so why would I fight back? Furthermore, I’m a pacifist, and I really try to be non-confrontational, sort of, you don’t mess with me and I don’t mess with you. And honestly, even if you do mess with me, as long as you don’t go too far, I won’t be doing much.”

“But what about your honor? Do you not feel the need to defend what you stand for? Why, if someone were to attack my home, I would pick up a sword and punish the person myself!”

“I’m sure you will. But again, non-confrontational, and I just don’t care too much. Obviously, you try messing with my fish, I will mess you up. I have stuff that you primitives can only dream of, and even then. ...... No offence, it’s just very high technological level. Even I only get the general idea of how it works. Something about deionizing your atoms, doesn’t ‘cut’ in the traditional sense, but more like, takes you apart when getting close to the edge. ...... Nah, haven’t used it in a long time. Last I did was for carving the stone furniture down at the bottom. It works on almost everything that the blade approaches.”

“It sounds like a mighty weapon! If that got into the wrong hands, it could mean disaster for maybe a whole kingdom!”

“I mean, yeah, but they have to actually come here, go through me, dive to the bottom of my pond, which isn’t very shallow, I’ll have you know, get the blade, and then still fight their way through to using it. ...... Nah, I don’t think I will, it’s perfectly safe where it is. I mean, only the two of you know about it, so if someone else was to find out, I’ll know who to blame.”

“I would never betray your trust like that!”

“It’s happened before, it will happen again. It’s human nature. But it doesn’t bother me too much. Always expect the worst and you can never be disappointed, I always say. ...... You’re dark! I’m a realist! And besides, I have my fish, and yeah, technically they mostly just are here for the food and the great environment I’ve created for them here, but they can’t betray you, since, you know. They’re fish. Yes, you Pete Liv! ...... Oh, this is Pete Liv. Say ‘Hi’ Pete Liv. ...... His called Pete, but he is the 54th Pete that I’ve had, so Roman numerals, that’s LIV.”

“What’s a Roman?”

“Errr, they used to be this real big empire thing a looooong time ago. I really don’t remember the details any more. I think someone stabbed someone else? Maybe the other way around? Who cares? Think it might have been over the throne.”

“Any good kingdom would never follow someone who took the throne by stabbing the previous leader! It’s just undignified and downright evil! The people will never trust a person who relies on violence to lead them!”

“Congratulations, you just discovered the basis for democracy. ...... That’s a way of governing people where basically, anyone eligible puts their name down on a list and the people get to choose who they like most. Supposedly it isn’t rigged, but there’s always someone paying for votes. ...... Well, if you’re the previous president, you’d want to keep being that, since you get quite a lot of benefits from it, and the pay’s nothing to shake a stick at. So, with your vast amounts of money that you have from, well, being you, you just invest a very small portion, and pay out enough people to tip the scales in your favor, so you keep staying in power, and you keep getting all the benefits and money, and whatever.”

“I am getting confused now. Is this system a good thing or not?”

“It’s complicated. You’ll get to it eventually, but from what I can tell you’re still pretty early in the development, so monarchy it is! ...... Well, I’m still alive, but I get your question. Don’t remember, to be honest with you. I’d guess we went through a bunch of different options. There was likely a monarchy, democracy, tyranny. Dunno, maybe some others. I’ve seen quite a few governments after that, that had all sorts of varied styles. I told your friend here about that time I was an evil overlord, and put forth an age of prosperity for all involved. Until I got bored, anyways.”

“It’s true, It was an amazing tale to behold!”

“There was just so much infighting, and the previous ruling class, hoo boy, they weren’t happy I overthrew them all and made them all potato farmers. Apart from me, literally, everybody else was equal. Everybody got an equal amount of food for free, everybody got an equal living space for free, equal pay, equal everything. Took a while to tear everything down, and the people with the big houses, they really didn’t like me. But you get used to conformity. It’s easy to have everything provided for you.”

“The way you put it, that reminds me a little of the tyranny that you mentioned.”

“It wasn’t like anybody was suffering, I had knowledge of past ages, of more advanced medicine, that I implemented, so everyone was unnatural healthy for the age that they were in. I remember, one time they brought in a guy that was bitten by an animal. Foaming at the mouth, super excitable, trying to break free, clearly rabies. And the people were basically asking me if they should let him in the woods so he can die without causing trouble for anyone else. I just laughed, took a syringe with the vaccine and injected him. Within a few hours he had calmed down, and within a few days, he was back to farming potatoes, or whatever it is he was doing”

“That was a very good thing to do, helping a man. We have this same illness in our time too, but we call it Mad Eyes, because of the look people get when they catch it. It’s amazing that you can heal it! You would be able to save so many people, if you wanted to!”

“Nah, not in the superhero business any more. I had that phase for a while, but got over it pretty quickly. Did you know everyone just expects heroes to do their heroing just because? And without any form of compensation? I didn’t really mind, since I didn’t need to eat or had the need for money, other than just fixing what was broken from my equipment, but someone that needed to eat, pay rent? They couldn’t keep a regular job because of all the time from it they’d had to miss. So that whole thing was short lived.”

“But you had the opportunity to save people, and do the ultimate good! Why would you give that up?”

“Ultimate good doesn’t buy toys! I didn’t just sit in some cave staring at the bats on the ceiling until I would hear someone calling. I had hobbies, and did things. And volunteer work doesn’t pay for a new graphics card. ...... Old technology, but somehow always gets inventent. Guess it’s real perfect in the way it works. I’m sure in, oh, I’d say, 7-800 years, you lot will also have those. too. But when I said ‘always gets invented’ that reminded me, did you know crabs have evolved over 15 times, completely separately from each other. It’s like nature really wants those things around. I just imagine Mother Nature being like this breen nerdy chick in an oversized turtleneck sweater, and she’s totally obsessed with this cute little crab picture with shiny eyes and everything, so she just keeps making them, just having crabs everywhere. ...... You don’t know what a crab is?”

“We’ve never heard of such an animal! What manner of mighty beast is it?”

“Ha, I wouldn’t exactly call them beasts, but picture these 2 large blacksmith tongs on its forelegs, and another 6 legs that look like spikes, 3 on each side, with a squat little body, and everything is covered in this real hard armor. You really never heard of them?”

“They sound terrifying, why, even I might be taken aback by such a foe!”

“Less of a foe, and more of a dinner, to tell you the truth. They were pretty good, as far as I remember, though I haven’t exactly tasted them in a very long time, so who knows. You know, I haven’t exactly seen any around either, so they might have gone extinct in the time I’ve spent here. Imagine Mother Nature grew bored of the things after some time, ha! But I’m speaking too much, you guys tell me something, how did you meet?”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful tale! I had just arrived into town, armor shined, and chin high. You know, this is my first real adventure, as I have only trained before.”

“That would explain you actually talking to me. All the old grizzled veterans really just went to kill me usually with a yell that is supposed to be scary, but honestly, it’s just stupid, flailing about like madmen.”

“Of course, noone benefits from a shout in combat and you would only distract yourself by doing so, it is the basics of armed combat.”

“I personally prefer the completely silent approach, where I just wipe the floor with the opponent, without so much as saying a single word. That way the victory is sweeter! ...... Ah yeah, sorry, you were saying?”

“Ahem, yes, and I was looking for work. At first, everyone would walk past me, not looking at me. Even in the tavern, I would only get single word responses from the owner. It was likely how young I look, and noone trusted in my skills.”

“I have to say, you do have quite the baby face”

“Well, I was getting desperate, and it was soon becoming night time. I had just stuffed my pack under my head and trying to go to sleep on a bench in the town center, when she walked by! She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen! Her hair - perfectly styled, the dress - waving behind her, her eyes - reflecting the street lights. My mouth was agape! Then I saw a shadow following her. It was a hooded figure, but it was clearly a man. I decided I would follow. The figure was just staying out of sight for her, and me - out of sight for him. Eventually, she was about to go home, when I saw the man rush towards her, taking out a dagger. I acted before I could think, drawing my blade and throwing it at the man, who got pierced, let out a loud yell, alerting everyone of his presence, and most importantly, alerting her. ...... Aw, think nothing of it, I would have done it for anyone, but for you, it gave me great joy to be able save you, as I did. But she was quite terrified, so she rushed inside.”

“And you just kinda, killed a guy, and happy end?”

“Not exactly. While I was cleaning my sword, some city watch arrived, and questioned me about what had happened. Apparently, the man was a well known tanner, and he was doing a good job at what he did, and I was just a stranger that had walked into town and had killed a person. Well, things were starting to get fiery, when she came out, and defended me! Using her little board, she explained to the guards what had happened, and how I saved her. They let it go, and took the body away, while she invited me over for dinner and she let me stay the night, in front of her fireplace, so I don’t freeze outside.”

“Well, that was sweet of you. He was a stranger to you, a guy with a bloody sword, essentially, yet you defended him. Not many people would do something like that... ...... No no, Just thinking out loud. Do you guys have any plans for the evening?”

“Yes, we will be having dinner in this eatery hall in town - The Black Goose. I’ve heard that they have this special type of roast, where they first boil the whole cleaned goose in lard and herbs for 4 hours, and then roast it on an open flame so it gets this well roasted outside, and I have just been anticipating going there.”

“What do you think? ...... Yeah, it does sound a little heavy, but maybe they have some vegetables they made in the lard. Good luck on your date!”

“I am not familiar with that word, but we will make sure to enjoy our outing, won’t we?”

“You do that! And tell me how the duck is tomorrow!”

“We’ll bring some back for you.”

“You do realise I can’t actually eat it, right? Like, I have no mouth”

“It matters not, as I like to say, what truly matters is that the people close to you, paid you mind.”

“A little clunky and long, don’t you think? Wouldn’t ‘It’s the thought that counts’ work better? Same meaning, just a little shorter”

“Hmm, I do prefer my version better, but I thank you for your input. I truly do value it! Well, we’re off! We’ll see you later!”