#be fat or don't i don't care don't involve me (but i personally think you should just let yourself be the size you are when you're living

[sigilmint]

at a level of being fat where other people unsolicited will strike up a conversation about their ~weight loss journeys~ and all I have to say in response is "yeah I've actually been working really hard on unlearning all that harmful stuff" and then out come all the excuses for why they 'actually need to' lose weight and the whole time I know that nothing I say is gonna make a dent for them and apparently just existing (eating lunch on my short lunch break, headphones in) is all the free pass they need to include me in their self flagellation. ugh.

[sidechrevans]

shower

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!),smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation kink (he calls us whores, like three times??) shower sex, wall sex (?), age gap, and more..

important: English is not my first language so there will probably be a lot of mistakes but there is nothing to be done, and it is my first time writing smur so don't attack me!!!

characters: dbf!steve rogers x fem!reader

I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! kisses

Steve Rogers was never as obsessed with a person as he was with you. He vividly remembers the first time he saw you, in that red dress begging to be fuckedYou were like a hurricane, bringing chaos and desire to every breath he took. He knew it was wrong, that you were taking him down a dangerous path, because you were his best friend's daughter, but he couldn't resist. With a penetrating gaze and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. You involved him in your games, in your dark fantasies that scared and excited him at the same time.And that's how you ended up in this current situation, being fucked in the shower by your father's best friend.

Your parents had gone on a trip to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage, and even though you were 20 and completely capable of taking care of yourself, your father asked Steve to keep an eye on you.

“I've been dying to fuck you ever since I saw you in that tiny red dress, you were practically begging, weren't you whore? That's it, isn't it? You just needed a big fat dick in that cherry.”

His hands tried to hold onto the stall in a failed attempt as Steve frantically thrust into you, you could feel his balls hitting yours against your clit as he pushed harder and harder into you…

your breasts jiggled as you were thrust into you. Steve moaned hoarsely, you felt every vein, every tiny vein inside you, the complete sense, his hands held your waist while the hot water ran between the two of you, giving him more access to fuck you hard... you look over your shoulder with some difficulty and then you see him, his hair was messy, some strands stuck together, his mouth was being pressed because he was biting his lips heavily and at the same time making a face.

“FUCK” he moans loudly, starting to move quickly and forcefully, not giving you time to breathe properly... the butterflies were playing with you, his trembling hand even went towards your clitoris when he started to rub it quickly, giving you spasmsHis mouth opened in a wordless moan. The glans hit the depths of his intimacy, making his lower belly burn. You had no idea how many times you had cumHer body shook violently and Steve watched her cum on his dick.

“Tell me, whose little whore are you?” His hoarse voice echoed through the bathroom along with a loud slap, you just swallowed soundlessly when he started moving again.“Stevee” you moaned when he hit that spot, you were already sore“So it’s here? Hmm?" he asked and you moaned in response.

He growled in his ear before pushing his body onto the bed and starting to thrust making you scream in pleasure “Whaaat? Do not handle it? Weren’t you the one thirsty for cock?” laughed while you whimperedYou moaned in a sob when the older man pushed everything in, squeezing your neck with one hand and making you orgasm again in such a short time.Steve withdraws his member and you let out a sly moan.

He soon bends down watching the abused entrance dripping all his cum.Her swollen clitoris pulsed, her breathing was heavy, her legs were wobbly. When you thought it was finally over, he smiles and then goes back into the hot grip in a brutal way, hearing your surprised scream.

[rwac96]

Pyrrha & Shallot # 3: Double Date

Pyrrha: *lowering her Scroll* "Oh, dear."

Shallot: *pummeling a sand bag* "What? Pumpkin Pete finally dropping you?"

Pyrrha: *annoyed, exhaled* "Ren canceled because Nora got arrested for ramping over getting waffles instead of pancakes."

Shallot: *stops his training* "The fuck? Crashing out over waffles sounds like rat behavior."

Pyrrha: *blinks at the Saiyan* "Um...me and Jaune still need another couple to complete the double date."

Shallot: "And you're asking me--Unnf!" *gets hit with a dress shirt & pants*

Pyrrha: "You and Weiss are going in their place."

Shallot: "Um, no."

Pyrrha: "Yes. Weiss and Jaune already agreed."

Shallot: *groans* "Is there gonna be good food where we're going?"

Pyrrha: "Yes--" *serious* "--and it means you don't eat up all the food."

Shallot: *annoyed* "Dammit!"

---

*At the diner, The Arkos couple sat next to the Ancient Snow pairing; Shalot fiddling with his necktie*

Shallot: *grumpy* "I hate wearing shit like this!"

Weiss: "Shallot, it's a way to look presentable. Even Jaune knows this!"

Pyrrha: *unamused* "And this date is already going to Hell."

Jaune: "Guys, please calm down."

Shallot: *folds his arms* "C'mon! I ain't gonna crash out."

Pyrrha: "Crash out?"

Weiss: *rolled her eyes* "Please tell me you didn't pick up brainrot slang from Trunks."

Shallot: "Huh, he's right. Weiss, shawty, you tripping--."

SMACK!

Weiss: *slaps Shallot* "Stop it! None of that drivel!"

Pyrrha: "Honestly, maybe don't pick up slang from a child who watches things from a Scroll Pad."

Jaune: *turns to the approaching waitress* "Look! Our food's here!"

*The waitress sets the food down, the extra plates being for Shallot*

Shallot: *grabbing silverware* "Thanks!" *proceeds to dig in...getting crumbs everywhere*

Weiss: *huffs, wiping crumbs from her grey-bleu dress* "Don't get crumbs everywhere!"

Shallot: *muffled* "Mhmmf?" *continues eating*

Pyrrha: "Don't eat with your mouthful."

Jaune: *cutting into his steak* "I don't think he cares now."

Shallot: *chewing on a chicken drumstick, then swallowing* "Lotta talk from a guy who ate out Fat Ass at a Movie Theater."

Jaune: *blushes, nearly choking on his food* "KAFF! KAFF-KAFF!!" *pounds his own chest*

Weiss: *shocked* "Shallot, uncalled for!" *turns to Pyrrha* "Pyrrha, tell me that's not true!"

Pyrrha: *blushing, death glaring at Shallot* "We agreed never to speak about that."

Weiss: *horrified* "Pyrrha Jen Nikos!! You let Jaune perform cunnilingus on you in public?!"

Jaune: *gasps, then turns to Weiss* "Not so loud!"

Paparazzi "Journalist": "Heya, Helen Hale from XWC, did I just hear that THE Pyrrha Nikos let this nobody eat her out in a movie theater?"

*Pyrrha looks petrified, Jaune covers his hands in embarrassment, and Weiss gulped, realizing her mistake*

Shallot: *smiles, oblivious to the vibe* "Yup."

Helen: *gasps, raises a camera, and begins taking pictures* "Holy Hell! This is big news! Pyrrha Nikos, Champ in the ring, freak in the sheets!"

*This results in more paparazzi arriving, crowding around the quartet and assaulting them with flash photography*

Shallot: *angry* "Hey! Hey!! HEY FUCK OFF!!"

Weiss: "Shallot, darling, don't make this worse--."

Helen: *turns to Weiss* "Hold on! Weiss Schnee, Atlas Songbird, and SDC Heiress? You called him darling. You two dating?"

Shallot: "HEY! Don't ask my matefriend personal shit like that!!"

*Weiss facepalms, as the response causes more paparazzi to arrive at their table*

---

*The quartet is in Jaune's car, the swordsman driving with an ashamed look on his face, while Weiss and Pyrrha death glare at Shallot*

Shallot: "Well...that went downhill. That went bad--."

Pyrrha: *livid* "Because it was your damned fault!"

Shallot: "Oh, shut it, Fat Ass!

Weiss: "Shallot, you opened your big mouth, which doesn't involve eating!"

Pyrrha: "Thanks to you, our business went on XWC and all over social media!"

Shallot: *rolls his eyes* "Nyeh! Nyeh! Nyeh! It's not like our friends found out--."

*Weiss pulls out her Scroll, the contact number: RED DOLT*

Ruby: *On the Scroll* "Pyrrha! Jaune! That's so nasty!!"

Shallot: *wide-eyed* "Um, news...travels fast--."

Pyrrha: *twitches* "Shut. Up! Shut your imbecilic, ignorant, oblivious shit hole up!!"

Shallot: *blinks* "...Meatmuncher--."

*Pyrrha let out a murderous yell, tackling Shallot, and began pummeling his face in*

Pyrrha: *beating Shallot black & blue* "You! Impulsive! Dumb Ass! Idiot! Moronic! SHIT!!"

Jaune: *blinks, his eyes focused on the road* "You gonna stop Pyr from hurting your man?"

Weiss: *exhales* "No, he deserved it." *blinks* "You're not gonna stop your paramour from committing aggravated assault?"

Jaune: *shrugs* "Just like ya said, the dumb ass deserves it."

[brw]

It baffles the mind to me how people will insist Ben Percy's Beast is right and correct and is the natural end version of Hank and that since day one he was always going to end up like that, not just because it implies absolutely nobody has actually read Hank in any pre-Bendis comic ever, but also because Evil Hank as Percy writes him makes everyone look massively incompetent, and I'm not even talking about just X-Force, I mean the entire larger X-Men community.

Emma Frost. World class telepath. Repeatedly is shown to not have that many qualms about digging into people's minds if they're hiding something from her. Confronts Hank at least once directly, and yet did not actually care enough to do anything other than act huffy when confronted with his actions. At most, she was pissed at him ruining her party. You can torture whoever you want, old buddy, but causing an inconvenience at my party? Now I'm mad.

Jean Grey. Even greater telepath. Was on X-Force herself, even, and also does not have many holdups about tearing down people's walls if the needs be. We even see her do just that, but her problem is him keeping things from her, and not the actual content of most of his actions. And after she leaves, she just seems to plug her fingers in her ears and go lalalala? The stuff at the Hellfire Gala, keeping Wolverine as clones, she doesn't care, she's too busy X-Mening.

Wolverine. Epic cool warrior guy who is supposed to be the best there is, whose talents Hank clearly admires enough to clone repeatedly to do his bidding, who is simultaneously a lone wolf and also the guy everyone wants to have on their team, who is the only guy who can see through Hank or whatever. Not competent enough to kill one big blue furry man who has spent the last 5 years at a desk job. That completely alludes him.

Domino has luck based powers that are supposed to help her in any situation, but I guess getting rid of evil blue man is too much to ask. Couldn't even get a bucket propped up under an open door. "He was always like this, he was always evil" she insists, but after learning he's controlling a small nation with plant people at the Hellfire Gala she still busts out the Cha Cha Slide with him on the dance floor.

I guess neither Jean nor Logan bothered to tell Scott his old friend was committing war crimes, because he doesn't seem to know or to give a fuck.

Kitty and Kurt know enough to joke about it, but do they actually confront him? Does anyone care enough to actually try to put a stop to it directly, if they're all seemingly convinced he's beyond help and fundamentally evil? No, they've got other shit going on. No time to care about Hank making a future where he is God-King, we gotta stop Sinister doing that same thing, but I guess when Hank does it, who gives a shit.

Quinten Quire is an omega level telepath who apparently nobody thought to say "hey man, can you use those Phoenix-level abilities to get Beast to stop killing people?". He was too busy giving himself a bigger dick in resurrection protocols, I guess.

I could go on, but point is, I genuinely don't know how you insist that era made so much sense and was the perfect version of Hank and everyone was simply too naive to see that this was who he always was, because it makes everyone look like an incompetent moron! They can't kill one fat blue furry man??? He hasn't done field work in years! And yet that's too much to ask! The only reason he died was because he was in gay love with some fuckass actor from New Jersey. It's deeply embarrassing for everyone involved if that's the reality of things, and I have no idea why you want all of your favourite characters to be incompetent dipshits who think "Wow, isn't Hank evil?" and then refuse to actually do anything about it.

And all this could have been averted if Hank was, you know, Hank. Hank isn't charming and cultured and well-read and funny and polite because he's a good person, those are his innate traits, and as we see with Dark Beast, they can twist in the opposite direction. That would literally be all it would take. I mean a lot of things would still suck, but at the very least, it would make everyone's inability to do anything a little more understandable, and allow things to feel tragic, like that Hank becoming increasingly evil and separated from his ethics is a loss and one we all mourn, instead of the insistence that he was always going to turn out that way.

Emma walks in to try and set things right with Hank, but gets distracted by good conversation and jokes and the same man who treated her as a member of the X-Men when she first joined and not as a heartless monster, who built her piece by piece back together when people were joking that finding out her murderer would be too much work, because everyone wanted her dead. It's hard to connect the evil actions she's heard Hank doing with the kind and charming and personable man in front of her, who matches her intellectually and well and truly respects her, and so she accepts that things are either exaggerated or that Hank will ultimately come back into himself, and that she can trust him not to disrupt her party.

Just a few little moments like that would have gone so far. An evil Hank McCoy is ultimately still Hank, and should still be funny and dropping Aristotle quotes and Shakespeare and being a good friend, because those are not traits exclusively to moral people, and it would make everyone's seeming incompetence a little easier to swallow. It's harder to see the evil actions that Hank is doing for what they are, when he's making you laugh so hard your belly aches or pondering intellectual questions with you, rather than just repeatedly saying "I'M THE BASTARD YOU NEED" before making a torture station in outer space.

There's so many ways this entire arc could have, at the very least, had some intrigue and actual character work to explore, the ways Hank has always used a larger than life persona to deflect and hide, and how that could become increasingly warped if you're dead set on having him be evil, and make the whole thing feel less like a character assassination and more of a tragedy. Hank McCoy becoming evil should hurt. It should feel like a great loss that someone who had been so kind and empathetic and nurturing became increasingly amoral and evil and even sadistic, and all the characters involved should feel that loss, and that even could be why they struggle to actually do anything for so long; they're so loyal to the Hank that once was, they can't see the Hank that is.

But all that is lost when the only character suggesting that something else might be to blame is Colossus, who immediately gets shut down as being ridiculous and silly, and everyone else stands and nods that Hank is really evil now, and isn't that a shame, and maybe he was always like this, but are we actually gonna do anything about it? Nah, we got a party to throw, we gotta get our fancy dresses on.

The entire thing is so unbelievably infuriating, because all it would have taken for someone to actually not even like Hank, but just want to be consistent with prior characterisation and have him be fun. A villainous Hank should ultimately be fun. That's probably the main reason why Dark Beast has endured for so long; he is fun to see and be around. He's a fun character to see on your page. That's what Hank needed. But I guess Sinister was taking that place so instead we got blue Kissinger and it is genuinely such a travesty that this dogshit is celebrated by comic fans who throw up in their mouths if you suggest reading an Avengers comic to broaden their horizons.

[quiet-admirer]

Attraction to fat people is not a fetish

AND IT'S OKAY TO HAVE A FAT FETISH

Age regression and ageplay aren't just kinks, for a lot of people it's just comforting or healing from trauma

AND IT'S OKAY TO HAVE AN AGE REGRESSION KINK

Not all domination involves sadism or degradation, a lot of Doms prefer soft, caretaking, loving domination

AND IT'S OKAY TO BE A SADISTIC DOM INTO DEGRADATION AND OTHER 'HARD KINKS'

Not all fat fetishists and feedists are thin people into degrading fat people

AND IT'S OKAY TO BE A THIN PERSON INTO CONSENSUAL DEGRADATION PLAY WITH FAT PEOPLE

Kinks that play with themes resembling real-life oppression and power dynamics aren't inherently abusive; some people like them because it's healing from the trauma and oppression they've experienced in real life

AND IT'S OKAY TO BE INTO AN OPPRESSION PLAY-BASED KINK IF IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOUR TRAUMA OR WITHOUT HAVING GONE THROUGH TRAUMA AND OPPRESSION YOURSELF

Trying to justify a fetish based on how some aspects of it are actually socially acceptable or not as taboo as the mainstream thinks it is will always be an assimilationist attempt at sanitizing sexuality. The second half of the message cannot go unsaid.

And I absolutely do not mean "normalize taboo and misunderstood fetishes." I don't care if it's normal. I don't want to be normal. Let perverts be perverts. Just simply decide not to create your own uninformed opinions about people and mind your own business about their sexuality. You don't have to get it. Resist the urge to say "pick me! I'm not bad though!" in the face of mainstream condemnation of non-normative sexualities.

Let perverts be perverts!

[galaxyedging]

For @prolix-yuy and her Bangaton 2024

I got Phoenix Playing in a Red Cave

'A person lies on their back, pulling their extended legs to their chest via their ankles. Their partner kneels with the person between their thighs.'

I thought LJ might like something with my Dieter and his Wardrobe love.

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

WC: 3k

Warnings: sex, drugs, and two idiots-in-love hoes.

Summary: Dieter isn't big into celebrating his birthday. Using some of his favourite things against him, you think you can change his mind.

The Bravo

Birthdays were always a big thing for you. Experiencing the loss of a loved one at a young age has given you the outlook that each birthday was a precious gift. It marked a year of life that you had been lucky enough to have when others weren't so fortunate. As with a lot of things, Dieter had a different outlook.

“It's just another nail in the coffin of my career. Even with an Oscar under my belt and being called Daddy by half the internet, I'm still surviving on shitty roles like this. Ageing just reduces my chances of getting good roles.” He sighs backlight by the early morning light making his Greek god-like profile even more pronounced.

“Some people just get better looking with age. You are definitely some people.” Your finger absently trails down his profile and across the greys sparkling in the stubble of his cheeks.

Moments like this were funny. One of you would say something so full of love and care that those three little words could so easily follow. Instead they hang in between you like an oddly comfortable silence. Neither of you break it, you just let the moment shroud you in all the unspoken words and the possibilities they bring with them. All the love that could be shared and grown between you. All the happiness that you could give each other until…Dieter's cell starts blaring the first line of Guiding Star by Cast. ‘Get up, get up, get up, get upppp!’

“I better get ready.” He switches his alarm off and turns back to face you. “It's only a short reshoot today. Will you wait here? Like this?” He makes it very clear what ‘like this’ means by throwing off the covers and leaving hot, wet kisses over your naked breasts.

“Di, you have to go. You can't be shooting horny.” You make a feeble attempt to push him away from sucking on your right nipple as it sends waves of electric pleasure to your already needy pussy.

The smirk you feel against your skin prepares you for Dieter's signature dad-wit. “That's my secret, Cap, I'm always horny.”

Years of dodging hits from disgruntled lovers or their furious partners had given Dieter the honed reflexes to dodge the pillow you throw at him with ease as he ducks into the en suite.

The nervous energy had kept you on your feet the last ten minutes. Dieter was definitely on his way back. Internally, you flip flopped between being excited about your idea to worrying if he would hate that you went against his view on birthdays. Of course you could always get away with it just being another fun sexual adventure between the two of you. Absolutely nothing to do with his milestone. Although part of you wanted him to share your view that birthdays should be celebrated. Your inner discourse is halted by Dieter opening the door.

“Happy Birthday!” You singsong as you throw your homemade confetti at him.

“What's all this?” The smile that blooms on his face eases your nerves.

“I know you don't like birthdays but I do and I…like you so I thought we could meet in the middle...”

“...our middle’s definitely should meet.” Dieter pulls you close, his hands easily finding your bare ass underneath his favourite t-shirt. His already growing erection grinds against you.

“Di! Let me finish!”

“Oh, I will. On my face, on my fat cock…”

“Let me finish telling you about your birthday surprise.”

“Does in involve fucking? Because that’s not a surprise.”

“Fine, I won't tell you.”

“I'm sorry. Go ahead. I'll pretend to be surprised when we fuck.”

“Well. I know you've been respectful of me with regards to your ‘habits’ but I thought you might like to indulge.” With Dieter now practically glued to your back and his hands pawing at your tits you shuffle further into the room.

At the side of the bed you had a room service cart all set up. On it were several cloches hiding his gifts. Lifting the first one, you revealed the drugs that you were okay with him indulging in.

“Who rolled that joint?!”

“What? A girl can't have a past?”

“Fuck. I don't think we'll be needing those.” He gestured to the other drug on the platter, two little blue pills.

“You never need them, but I like how you get super whiney when you struggle to finish.”

“Oh you do, huh?”

“Mmmhuh.”

“What else do you like?”

“No! No distraction. Birthday surprises!”

On lifting the next cloche it's over piled contents spilled out everywhere.

“Kitkats!” They were actually able to draw his attention away from your neck that he'd been moving his talented lips across.

“I may have acquired the last of the supply.”

“They are my second favourite snack here.” his fingers go straight to indicating his first favourite.

“Di, let me finish.”

“OK.” his fingers pick up speed.

“Oh! No, stop it. One present left.”

Underneath the last cloche was a pair of printed off, homemade sex dice.

“I thought we could try some new positions. Maybe even some that are new to you. If that's possible.”

Dieter brow furrows as he tries to work out how slim that chance is.

“In fact I know it's completely possible as I have invented The Bravo.”

“Oh yeah. How does that go?” The smirk on Dieter's face would be thoroughly wiped off by The Bravo.

“Oh, fuck!” Dieter groans deeply into the pillow bunched up in his fists.

It was your thought too as his groans made the slick on your inner thighs grow. After Dieter had let you finish on his face as promised you decided to get further out of your comfort zone and offer to eat him out. The light behind his eyes betrayed his words of concern. After a quick shower he positioned himself on the bed, face in the pillow, ass in the air and one hand clasping yours at his thigh to reassure you. Any first time worries you had were expelled along with Dieter's first deep sigh. After what felt like no time at all his was a leaking mess with a sloppy, spit soaked hole, perfect for the next part of The Bravo.

The first little black toy slipped easily into Dieter's greedy hole. The noises he made while he was spread on all fours for you would make for amazing audio porn. His legs trembled when the toy found its final destination.

“Di? You OK?”

“Shit, yes.”

“Turn over for me?”

“Anything for you.”

With your heart beating fast for a different reason, you waited for Dieter to arrange himself. The loop from the first toy fit snugly over his balls. It was joined by a second one as you fitted the additional toy in place.

“My turn to get into position.” You help Dieter up to take his place. “Close your eyes.”

“What, like I have seen it all before?”

“Actually, you haven't. The Bravo is a brand new original.”

Even though he laughs, he obeys and closes his eyes while you reach for a few things. Before you put everything in place you get Dieter into position. Your legs roll up so your thighs are resting on your stomach. The pillow under your hips tilts you up to give Dieter better access. His cock has no trouble brushing against your g-spot, the difficulty lies in trying to get the dildo in your other hole while Dieter is getting lost in your pussy.

“Di! Let me get the other toy in.”

“Sorry. I guess I got love tunnel vision.”

“Ew. Just get it…ohhhh.”

With both toys situated and Dieter firmly inside you, it was time for the last additions to The Bravo. Thankfully, with your legs pulled so close they were relatively easy to add.

“Open your eyes!”

“What?!” The rumble of full body laughter ruts the dildo deeper.

Dieter couldn't believe his eyes. The gorgeous woman below him, almost bent in two to take his cock and allow him to take her ass with one of his favourite toys, also had a joint in between the toes of one of her feet and fingers of Kitkat wedged between the toes of her other foot.

“The Bravo is the best.” He finally got his laughter under control. “You are the best. Thank you.”

“So maybe birthdays are worth celebrating?” You press.

Dieter takes a long puff on his joint, the ash falls into the overturned cloche you hold underneath. Then he turns to suck on your toe before taking a bite of Kitkat.

“Maybe.” he looks so handsome when he smiles. Another moment settles between you as you wonder if anyone has ever gotten to see the sides of him that you do. “This is all great, Babe, but we'll have to move some of it because I really need to fuck you so hard that you can't walk for a week.”

The joint and Kitkats are quickly put away in favour of Dieter thrusting so deep that your previously occupied toes curl.

“Switch them on. I want you even wetter so I can give you my cock even easier.” Following Dieter's instructions you turn on the vibrations.

The two of you cling to each other as the toys force the two of you to come almost immediately. The dildo and the cock ring against your clit perfectly compliment the pressure of being filed with Dieter's huge cock. The vibration against his prostate pushes Dieter over the edge and gets the easy one out of the way.

“Fuck. I love The Bravo. Can you feel me still hard, deep in that cunt? Huh? I'm going fuck my cum deeper then fill you again.”

“Please.”

“Please what? Tell me.”

“I want it.”

“Want what? Use your words or are you too cock dumb?”

It took a lot of effort to form words with the buzz in your veins and in your ass and Dieters thick load warming your insides around his cock. “Fuck me. Hard, Di. I can take it. Cum deeper in me….than any….man has.”

Dieter didn't need telling twice. His eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to pull out with your pussy still clamped tightly around him. He only gets half way before deciding to thrust back inside. Before he stood at the side of the bed leaning into you, now he has one knee on the bed to push deeper inside of you. There's another moment between you when he is fully sheathed inside you. The movement brings him face to face with you. Staring into each other's eyes brings a new level of intimacy. Dieter lowers his lips to yours. For a moment, he stops just shy of kissing you, his trembling breath mixes with your. When his lips descend on yours, it's a soft brush before an even softer kiss. Not what you would expect with him being balls deep in you. There's no rushed clashing of lips, no tongue desperately seeking sanctuary in the warmth of your mouth.

“As much as I'm loving The Bravo. I think I have another position I'd like to try.” With that he pulls out.

Standing by the bed, he eases the toys off his engorged cock and out of his hole. Holding his hand out he guides you up off the bed to rearrange the pillows. There are a couple at the top of the bed for your head and a few to prop up your hips. Once you are in position, Dieter climbs up to take his place between your legs. Slowly, he enters you again, filling every inch of you. It takes your breath away all over again. His hands find yours, his fingers interlace with yours before pressing them into the pillow above your head. His pace is achingly slow as he begins to move. His usual deep, well placed thrusts are abandoned in favour of a slow grind. The light dusting of public hair above his cock adds to the sensation as he rubs against your clit. There's no doubt in your mind that he will still make you come like this. Your body is getting everything that it needs. As for your mind, Dieter is holding eye contact with you while being completely open about the pleasure you are giving him. As he grinds deep, he whines against your lips. The only time those beautiful brown orbs leave yours is when Dieter ventures away to kiss the sensitive skin of your neck or trail his tongue through the combined sweat dappling your breasts or when he loses himself and screws his eyes shut. That might be your favourite one, it highlights those adorable laughter lines around his eyes. Even though your orgasm is being built at a torturously slow pace, every moment is filled with pleasure, it's filled with him. Those three little words are on the tip of your tongue when you push it past Dieter's lips to silence yourself during your orgasm. Dieter stays inside you long after the aftershocks have stopped. He simply enjoys every inch of your skin available to him while you wallow in your bliss. The skimming of his lips and fingertips leaves goosebumps in their wake.

After what feels like aeons, you're able to speak. “That was….” you laugh at your lack of words.

“I know.” There's no ego in his words, just and honest agreement. “Do you think you could help me finish or….?”

His eyelashes flutter as he shows concern for what must be a thoroughly worn out cunt.

“Definitely. I have to hear you whimper, remember?”

“Just for that, I'm not going to.”

“Yes you are. You'll whimper and whine and do that dirty self talk that you do.”

“I...? I do that out loud?”

“Yep. Don't worry it's hot.”

With your pussy reluctant to let him leave Dieter stays in while he pulls you into his lap. “Can you bounce on it for me?”

The first couple of movements of your hips are very uncoordinated due to your body still being on a higher plain. Soon you have it back together and Dieter is a moaning mess below you.

“Fuck. Love having you like this. Those tits bouncing in my face. I can see your cunt taking my cock. You get to use me just how you like. So fucking hot. If it wasn't for those little blue pills, I would've pumped my load into you already.” Dieter starts to become desperate for his release.

Two large hands grip your ass as Dieter helps lift you off of his cock only to slam you back down on it. “That's it. You feel so good around my cock. That tight little thing loves sucking my fat head in deeper. I can come so deep that I'll leak out of you for days.” His movements quicken and become rougher as he uses you for his own release. “Oh, shit. Gonna fill that hole. Gonna give you a big creamy load. Gonna own you. Fuck. I love this pussy. Love this body. I love….” There it is, the whimper you've been dying to hear this time it's with Dieter's release. You can't help but bring your fingers down to your clit and join him. He whimpers, whines and shudders through his long climax as short bursts of cum keep filling you as your own climax milks him until he all but collapses against you, taking you down on the bed with him.

The two of you lie there too overwhelmed and tangled up in each other to move. There will need to be showers and clean up but that can wait. All that matters now is the synchronised beating of your hearts as they regulate, the warmth of each other's skin and the unspoken words hanging in the air along with the smell of sex.

“Maybe we should call that The Bravo instead because, fucking bravo. Fuck your pussy just gets better and better.”

“Well, The Bravo is already taken. I was thinking The Dieter.”

“Why?”

“Because the sexiest part of that was just…you.”

For a man who lays himself bare in his performances, Dieter can get awfully embarrassed when people actually see him. So to save him any further blushes you move on.

Pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek you simply add “Happy Birthday, Dieter.”

[kamimarroco]

Basically, a fanfic where Ren loves a MILF

Not very explicit, in my opinion, but yeah, manipulation, kidnapping, mommy kink and horny

🦊💘

It's strange, and even funny. You really didn't plan this.

Lying on the couch, scratching your captor's furry, fluffy ears above you. He purred, like a cat does when its owner pets it. Except this situation is the opposite.

He's so small, and his fluffy tail makes you want to stay a little longer, even if your stomach is growling.

Right, your stomach. You haven't eaten since you left the bar, or since you woke up in this weird house. Even though Ren offered you food, you had the strange intuition that you shouldn't eat anything he offered you. It could be anything, poison, drugs, or something else.

“Are you sure you don't want to eat something?" His voice, sweet, lively, energetic, resonates through your ears, through your mind. He is being kind, generous. A mercy for you to take.

“Do not worry about me" A lie, you just don't want to get involved further. You would rather starve than accept your defeat. 

He snorts, clearly annoyed, his claws tracing lines across your chest. His tail begins to move methodically.

“You should stop being stubborn. You know you can't escape from here"

You must NOT accept this fate. It's wrong, clearly wrong. You have a family to take care of at the end of the day, and he shall not keep you forever.

You're sure they'll start looking for you soon.

He rolls his eyes, adjusting his position to sit on your lap, hands glued to your belly, caressing, massaging.

“They won't miss you. In fact, they'll be glad you're gone" His sweet words enter your ears once again. “They don't deserve you, none of them. They don't see you the same way I do”

Manipulation, distortion of reality. He wants to make you think that they don't want you, that you have no value to them. He wants you to stay here, forever, and ever, and ever.

A person, or something close to it. A pet, someone for him to care for and love. An object, easy to discard if he gets tired of you.

Bullshit, nothing he says makes sense. Your children love you, your husband adores you, you have the job of your dreams, a nice house to live in, parents and–

And…

They won't look for you... right?

Why would they do that, after all? You are disposable, a woman at the mercy of society. You are nothing, nothing at all.

Ren runs his hands under your shirt, sharp claws being (not very) careful not to hurt you. You ended up gaining a few pounds after your last pregnancy.

“Don't worry, I'll take great care of you" His toothy smile tries to comfort you, but fails. You can see the excitement in his eyes. 

“Why me?" You ask, a single tear running down your left cheek. You don't deserve this, you need to go home.

“Your body... is perfect" Ren takes a deep breath at the sight of your exposed belly, his erection trapped in his pants, screaming to be freed. When did he…?

This is a first. You never felt the same after giving birth three times, you never felt desired by any man. Which is good, because you are a married woman, and should be devoted to your only husband.

“Ren... stop” You ask shyly, your hands taking his to make him stop touching you. “I'm not going to do this”

He is taken by surprise, but his expression is replaced by a bizarre smile. He won't stop just because you want him to.

“Honey, I'm just doing you a favor. How long has it been since you got fucked the way you want?”

Dirty words trying to deceive you. He wants you to stop fighting, to stop resisting the repressed desire so much.

Why don't you give up already? Won't he make you feel good?

You loosen your grip on his hands, allowing him to touch your belly again. And he smiles, staring hungrily at the abundant meat there.

These eyes, you never saw them again. Eyes of desire, eyes of hunger, eyes of lust. Does he really have no problem with your extra fat?

If it were another man, he would certainly have discarded you by now. 

You feel dizzy, the heat consuming your entire body, making you feel weak. Weak from hunger, too weak to fight back. 

Your cheeks are burning.

Ren moves one of his hands to your thigh, making circular movements while looking directly at your horny face. He starts to pant, starts to feel like he's going to explode at any moment.

But he can't, he shouldn't. Not with a woman as pure as you. 

You are a mother, after all. And mothers are precious, sensitive, warm and their bodies are the most beautiful thing there is.

It must be some kind of fetish of his. Older woman, experienced mother, calm and sweet because that's how you should be. This is how society sees you and only sees you.

“It's beautiful..." Ren speaks as he begins to slowly take off your shirt, exposing your large, voluminous breasts. Ready to give milk, ready to be sucked.

He gently picks them up with both hands, making gentle movements, testing their softness. 

They are so soft, so soft. The thought crosses your mind, and fills you with joy. 

He licks them, both of them, his teeth being careful not to hurt you. You must be sensitive to being touched like this after so long.

“Precious, just precious" He whispers to you, praising you, applauding you for the natural beauty of your body. Kind, careful, sweet.

Not that your husband isn't like that, but... it's different when it's another man telling you that. It's invigorating, pleasurable, comforting. It makes you think you're still beautiful after all these years.

“What a good mother you are, so calm, so obedient" He purrs, his tail moving from side to side. “Good mothers deserve a break, don't you think?” Ren asks rhetorically, already aware of your answer. “So please, just relax. I'll make you feel really, really good”

[spwarkledogz]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!

ABOUT ME

my name is miles/ellie/mimi! i'm 20 yrs old! this is my therian/otherkin/fictionkin specific sideblog!

i used to be @silly-catpup but i deactivated! i'm starting over here :3 i figured out a lot more things about my identity anyway, so!!

more in depth about me and boundaries under the cut to avoid a long post ..

im very queer and very not quiet about it. i'm a transmasc bigender lesbian girlboy. no, you do not need an explanation of my identity (unless you are really nice about it, of course!)

im a polytherian shapeshifter! my theriotypes are; sparkledog, snow leopard, and cat.

i am a physical therian! if that bothers you, block me forever. we are real and we are not going anywhere!!

me being a sparkledog really has nothing to do with a personal aesthetic that i have. im not necessarily a "scene kid" at all, im just a really colorful dog that looks like 2008 threw up all over it.

my theriotypes are mainly anthropomorphic, but don't always have to be.

i'll probably make a rentry relating to my fictotypes someday but today is not that day

i am low-med support autistic, physically disabled, and an AAC and mobility aid user!

BOUNDARIES

i dont tolerate bigotry of any kind. this includes people who are hateful to queer identities that they personally don't understand.

fatphobia dni, seriously!!!!! i am fat, and while i am happy with my body, that doesn't mean fatphobia cant hurt me. im extremely sensitive to the topic. eating is also a very VERY sensitive topic and i will not be making posts about my eating habits nor will i engage in convos about it (unless its a silly question like my favorite snack!)

mean and judgmental therians do NOT touch my blog im serious! i dont care that you find 12 year old tiktok therians annoying or that you think physical alterhumanity is fake! stay the fuck off my blog or i'll bite you!

minors are free to follow and interact with my posts but please stay out of my dms thanky!!!! (i also will not be mutuals w you or follow back)

shit i dont interact with because i do not care: syscourse, shipping discourse (pro vs anti shit), or any variants of those things!! keep that shit off my blog because i literally dont care about either of them (and dont consider me "neutral" on either of them because of that, either. im not neutral im just not involved.)

TAG SYSTEM

#✩🌈🐶 YAPPER ONLINE - regular posts, talking, etc

#✩🌈🐶 CRAFTS - stuff ive made

#✩🌈🐶 FOAMING - rant, vent, etc

#✩🌈🐶 MAIL - answering asks

#✩🌈🐶 NONNIE - anonymous asks

#✩🌈🐶 REDOG - reblogs

[iwahajii]

That Certain Shade of Green

You, Iwaizumi and Oikawa's cat. How chaotic and romantic will that be?

You see, I'm not the type of person who likes confrontations or arguments. In fact, I do my best to avoid such situations unless necessary. Why? Because they're exhausting. I must also admit that I'm not a saint. I can run out of patience, scream in frustration, and do many others that meant visibly expressing my emotions. I cry, as in my tear ducts producing tears by processing my bodily fluids into salty, fat tears. Just that I don't cry too often, and if I do, I make sure it's worth it by waiting until I reach the last strand of my sanity before crying, or on special occasions, from grave frustration. Contrary to popular belief, I do have emotions. I'm human, not a robot or an android, much to my friends' amusement and frustration.

I also believe that I'm rational. I think things through, over and over in my head, before doing whatever it is. I do my best not to act on impulse, and I do my best to remain respectful regardless of whoever I was dealing with.

It must be a wonder why I'm saying all this... Let's just say it all boils down to me reaching my maximum boiling point and doing something unexpected it started derailing my life until all hell broke loose.

Because there's a reason why I'm currently banging on the door of my neighbor at 1 a.m. on a Saturday morning, holding a cat between my arms, with mascara and tears streaming down my face.

There's a reason why I'm still wearing yesterday's clothes, why my legs ache from standing for hours, why my head is pounding from overuse and lack of sleep.

There's a thousand more reasons I could name why I'm doing something borderline crazy, like slam my fist on someone's door in the middle of the night, but at the moment, I didn't care whether I'd get the cops called on me.

Screw this cat. Screw this neighbor. Screw this fucking life because I am so fucking done.

I must have looked fresh from the deepest pits of hell because when the door swung open, the man on the other side jumped away, eyes wide in surprise.

Opening my mouth to speak, I find the string of disrespectful words clawing at my throat two seconds ago vanishing to thin air, leaving me opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. Even my tears stopped the second I caught sight of the person on the other side, as though my brain stopped everything that's not involved with sight.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, with the two of us locked in a stare-down, though technically, I wasn't... really looking at his eyes...

But honestly, who could blame me?

When I decided to storm up to my neighbor after seeing the crime scene in my apartment, I never really expected to find a half-naked greek god glaring down at me for interrupting his sleep. I mean, If I did, I wouldn't really do it with mascara-stained face or with clothes still from yesterday's. I could've cleaned up a little, at the very least.

Or whatever.

I balled my hands into fists to stop my train of thoughts.

Embarassed, warmth slowly crept up my cheeks as I sneaked a glance at the washboard abs seemingly gleaming even under the poor lighting from the nearest post.

"Shut up," I growled under my breath, but Mr. Greek God seemed to have heard, and he blinked himself awake, frowning at me.

"Excuse me?" he asked, confusion etched on his face as he continued to frown. When his eyes drifted down my arms, recognition seemed to finally dawn on him. "Why do you have Mr. Cuddles?" he asked, voice deep and gruff.

The snort came swift. Mr. Cuddles? Seriously?

"Oh, him?" you quipped, flashing the greek god a bright smile before giving the cat a back rub, "Mr. Cuddles, huh? Well, Mr.-" you paused, leaning to your right to glance at the nameplate, "-Iwaizumi, I would like to inform you that Mr. Cuddles has broken into my home and destroyed my apartment."

It took him ten seconds to react to my words. Ten seconds. I counted it in my head.

He froze, hand still holding the knob, before he visibly sagged and brought his hands up to wipe down his face. He groaned into his hands, the sound so deep the vibrations reverberated.

My eyes inavertedly shifted to his arms, strong and thick and sinewy as he raises one to run down his hair in visible frustration. The force of his glare was so potent that when he turned to look at me, my body flinched on impulse.

He'll kill me for waking him up was the first thought that ran through my head.

He frowned, silently watching me squirm under his heavy glare. Suddenly, he sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "Sorry," he grumbled. "It's not you I'm pissed at."

Is that why his hair's so spiky? It's short, too, so maybe it's the reason why it's sticking up. Too much running through it.

"Oh," I replied, surprised by his admission. "That's... good, I guess."

It took a good full minute of silence before any of us spoke, somehow focused on staring at anything besides the other.

"I'm just gonna go-"

"Wait here a sec-"

I stopped, motioning for him to go ahead.

"Go on," he replies, nodding his head at me.

"I-I'm just-" I began, cheeks reddening from embarassment when I stuttered. Good grief, why the hell am I stuttering? This was embarassing enough. Clearing my throat, I tried again.

"I'm gonna go. It's late," I tell him, jabbing a thumb towards my unit. As though he needed the information when he had been sleeping peacefully before you decided to disturb him, the cheeky devil in me snickered. Bowing slightly, I continued, "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

Without looking back up at him, I pivoted on my heels to go back to my apartment, but was pulled to a stop. Frozen in place, I turned to the hand on my arm, following it through a toned arm and up to a handsome face.

I knew he looked good, based from what I could make out from the dim lighting the nearby post provided, but out here, with more light illuminating his features, it truly made me wish the concrete would somehow open up and swallow me whole from sheer mortification.

Here I was, grimy, stressed and exhausted, with mascara and tears staining my face, while this man looks like he walked straight out of an Abercrombie billboard. He had dark locks of hair, spiky and cropped, a prominent nose that's a little crooked, probably broken once or twice, a strong jaw, and his eyes- they were green, but not much, more like a mix of brown and green- and they were beautiful. He is beautiful.

I could feel my breath get caught in my chest, at the same time my heart began thudding loudly. It physically hurt to look at this beautiful person, even in the poor light of a street lamp. I must've stared a little too long because he was frowning again, eyebrows scrunching together. "Y-yes?" I squeaked.

"The cat," he said, looking at my arms still crossed on my chest.

"The cat?" I repeated, following his gaze. I was met with a pair of blue eyes gleaming in the dark. I jumped, effectively pulling my arm out of his grasp. "Right! The cat!" I exclaimed, my nerves making me laugh.

"Sorry about that," I tell him as I shifted my hold on the cat, ready to pass it to his waiting arms.

All of a sudden, the cat hissed, quickly followed by a shout of pain as the cat jumped out of reach and ran straight back to my apartment. Before I could fully process what happened, Mr. Iwaizumi was hot on his tail, bolting down the hall towards my apartment.

"Wait!" I called after him, catching up as quickly as I could while he stood frozen by my doorstep.

Stopping at his side, I watched as his eyes slowly took in the state of my apartment, his expression getting dimmer and dimmer the longer he looked around.

To simply call it a mess was an understatement. From the scattered shoes, scratched sofa and pillows, ripped curtains, broken stems and shattered pots, you'd think this was a crime scene, with paw prints on soil as evidence.

You!" he barked, jolting me out of my reverie from the mess I call my apartment. I followed his line of sight, stopping at the slimy little bastard who caused this disaster.

We all froze, me, him and the cat, locked in a staredown before the cheeky demon, seemingly smirking at us from his high throne, thrust a paw at the sole survivor of his havoc, my domino cactus perched on my countertop, pushing it on its side. As the pot rolled side to side, Mr. Cuddles skipped away from view, leaving me and Mr. Iwaizumi holding our breath as the pot continued its motion.

"No!" I screamed when the pot started to teeter over the edge, slapping my hands over my eyes to save me from the heart-wrenching sight.

The sound of ceramic breaking didn't reach my ears. Instead, a loud groan echoed through the apartment, followed by a string of curses that filled the deafening silence of the night. It took me seconds before gaining the courage to sneak a peek. What I saw made my breath and my heart to stutter, feeling electrified by some current that made me feel all jittery inside.

Mr. Iwaizumi was lying down on the messy floor, hand outstretched and holding the plant safely in his hand.

Wait, the plant?

I watched as he used his free hand to push himself to a sitting position, groaning with the effort. Once seated, he took the pot with his other hand, hissing in pain as his palm is freed from the sharp thorns of the cactus.

"Shit," he cursed out loud, groaning as he flexed his right hand, assessing the damage the plant has done.

"Shit," I echoed.

-

I am back from the dungeons of life with this ancient draft I have on my notes. I know I still have works in progress but this one wanted to come out sooner than later. Thanks for stopping by!

[scribbyizhere]

"Goodness, you are a force!"

-my culinary teacher, loudly, in front of the whole class during a study hall as I was drawing twinks.

MY FANFIC (read abt it at the bottom euhg):

♡BG INFO & DNI♡

she/her, bisexual aro(I'm on the spectrum but not too sure what yet), minor

the dni list for my safety and happiness:

THIS IS A 13+ BLOG, fat phobic, NSFW only blog, homophobic, pedo, TERF, ableist, pro/comship, racist, zoo

Sometimes I post/reblog isopods(I will tag these w 'isopod', 'isoposting' or 'tw bugs'/'tw bug mention'), space stuff, spider-man, metal/rock music stuff, and punk culture. If any of this bugs you please either block those tags, simply ignore them, or even unfollow me. I won't be bothered!

alt blog w spiderman content: @spider-plush

dca/au centered blog(much more organized): @timestillstands

if you find that I start making media that isn't what you like or joined for, or even I say smth that goes against ur morals, feel free to unfollow or stop interacting! no hard feelings, as long as you don't attack me for anything

☆ASKS☆

Send me asks !!! I love them !!! Js no NSFW, nothing that goes along the dni, nothing abt my personal life(btw that's like smth abt where I live, names, age, etc etc. if I want to talk abt that I will.), and no explicit injury(particularly dismemberment, but anyways, don't send me any sort of injury, I will block you)

Not too strict, should be common knowledge for my kinda blog, soo yea. Stay safe, hugs and loves <333

◇TAGGING◇

This has the same rules as the asks, tag me in anything you think I would like, it can be super random or super specific, I don't really care lol.

my rule on tagging me in controversial stuff is that I will choose whether or not I want to get involved.

•DMS•

unless ur a moot pls don't dm me and I also don't have notifs on for anything, so uh yuh

I'm not really an internet talker lol

I'M MAKING A FIC !!! :DD

Your roommate suggested it. Saw a sign asking for help. You needed a job, they needed techs. Problem settled. Right?

Well, yes. New problem: You did not sign up to be the personal daycare technician, which, mind you, was filled with children. You can't do children.

It doesn't seem like the Daycare Attendant likes you either. Which is a problem, because you like it better when the robotic coworkers aren't... Rude? Creepy? Passive aggressive? Not delightful

[acanth3]

追憶＊マリオネットの糸の先 / Reminiscence＊End of the Marionette's Strings

EPISODE 5

Garden Terrace

Mika: Nnnh…I haven’t been to the garden terrace much.

Normally, students are allowed to come during class time, right? I'm nervous cuz if I get caught, my teacher will get angry..?

Arashi: Ufufu. While it’s not allowed…it’s not like it’s prohibited.

It’s all loose~ because in this academy, idol’s are like gods.

I’m so cute, I’ll be allowed to skip class just to eat cake. There are alot of idiots who play pranks.

There are also people who just make you feel sick, you’ll see in just a little bit. Put your head up because you're an idol, be bossy!

It’s not enough…the feeling of gratitude.

It’s fine…but my freedom is being violated, it’s troublesome…

My ‘King’ doesn’t seem to be able to stand within such situations, so he’s held by a string day by day.

Mika: “The King”?

Arashi: Oh, it’s the name of the senior who’s care I’m under. His name is Leo.

The name he goes by from his fans is something like ‘Leo-sama~’...?

I wonder if ‘Leo-sama’ is from an accent or it shrank to ‘Osama’? I don't know, well~

Mika: Hnn, what’s the king? who is it? I’m thinkin’ somethin’ like that.

My Oshi-san is also apart of ‘The 5 Eccentrics’ or he’s also called ‘Emperor’

Arashi: My leader doesn’t seem to enjoy being called ‘King’ also even whenever I say it.

Mika: He sounds like a very sharp person, after all he is Naru-chan’s acquaintance.

I feel I’m not as close with you because I’m scared…Naru-chan is so kind.

What was it, ‘Othello’? Nnn, the name was changed to somethin’ like ‘Chess’?

Arashi: Hmm, I don’t know well but the name did change, those people are a little passionate.

Shinsengumi is on a rampage, it’s really just filled with never-ending troubles. It’s dangerous.

I don’t want to really get involved in the whole mess, and I haven’t officially joined nor participated in group activities, Well, as courtesy greetings sometimes.

I don’t like being dragged in by others and it’s a troublesome situation as well…i’m gonna stay outside of the mosquitos net until it’s over.

A temporary club of some sorts..

I’m still a little indebted to you as a model, because as a senior I have a duty…

Even If I'm thinking of just registering, I wonder if I’ll participate later after the current situation cools down.

Mika: Nnnn..tell me if yer havin’ any troubles, I might not be able to do nothin’ but Naru-chan we are friends ♪

Arashi: Thank you, ufufu~ I feel better when I talk to Mika-chan wa~ ♪

Mika: Did ya get the cake you ordered? If you eat this you’ll feel better~♪

Arashi: Oh, just me? Mika-chan you didn’t order anything?

Mika: Nnnn…I'm hungry when I eat proper sweets, I’ll destroy my appetite…

Also I like candy. Look, I’ll lick the candy, so I can refrain from eating the cake~ ♪

Arashi: You really are a strange child, aren’t you…?

If you dont eat properly, you won’t get any meat, Mika-chan is so skinny so I’m worried~ Eventually you’ll faint, right?

If I eat something, I just eat it. I’ll probably just get fat or grow taller and I should be careful i'm on a diet.

But I want to eat sweets~ Annoying, isn’t it?

Mika: Nnnn…when I was little I didn’t eat much.

I wonder if that’s why I barely grew but I’ve gained more weight now than I have in the past, right?

Recently, Oshi-san always makes rice/lunch for me~ ♪

So if I swell my belly with sweets and unnecessary foods, Oshi-san will get angry

Arashi: I wonder if that’s what you also call ‘love’...I mean, are you currently living with that ‘Oshi-san’ person?

No~ that sounds so immoral ♪

Mika: Nah I’m just a freeloader~ No different from a pet or a pot of plants. I’ve got my parents' house over in Kansai.

I live a great distance from Yumenosaki, it’s hard to go back and forth from my parent’s house every single time, it also cost’s money.

I asked Oshi-san to let me sleep over.

I’m usin’ the money I earn from idol activities towards Oshi-san’s house and sendin’ over money to my parent’s house.

Arashi: Well, if you’re having a hard time and any problems, please talk to me~

I feel like an average person while you're poorer…

Mika: In Valkyrie we have another senior named Nazuna-nii.

It’s his birthday soon so I made clothes as a present ♪

M’ gonna have to do my best hand-sewing~

I’m still not the best because I’m learning from Oshi-san. The cost of materials and so on is another reason, i’m short on money as usual.

Nazuna-nii’s birthday is some time away so it’s not that urgent.

Arashi: That’s why you were sewing earlier too…

Okay! If you’ve got such a problem, tell me! I feel like I got in the way of your work, right?

Mika: Yeah, I’m not sewin’ alot and I enjoy what I do.

It calms me down when I get to talk to Naru-chan, so why don’t I just relax?

Valkyrie, I mean Oshi-san is quite a perfectionist…

I don't get to relax while doin’ idol activities, sometimes I just wanna relax ♪

Arashi: That’s right, no wonder your performances are the best

You always look/feel tense. It makes me feel nervous when I see you.

Mika: Yeah kinda like just draggin’ my feet around.

Nazuna-nii is perfect! He moves around perfectly just as Oshi-San instructs.

I’ve respected Nazuna-nii for a long time that’s why I wanna make him happy on his birthday, Nazuna-nii always has a dark look on his face..

It would be nice if he showed me his smile~♪

a/n i made this at 1am sorry if it doesn’t make sense💔

[bluebudgie]

hi <3 question for the newest blonde long-haired prettyboy. how did he end up with justiciar deathmetal himself in his head? was he just born like that?

Hello hi! <3

Beware: unfinished character thoughts incoming.

So, no he wasn't born like that (though I find the idea hilarious), he's just a revenant.

How did it come to that? Well personally I'm a fan of the good old "get knocked out so hard your spirit takes a temporary trip to the mists".

The most obvious solution on how to knock out a white mantle member particularly hard for a prolongued amount of time would probably be this:

(Big fat bloodstone explosion.)

But after thinking about that for a while I realized this isn't really it considering I want him to be actively involved with the LS3 shenanigans. Which isn't really possible if you're out cold right at the start of it.

He's meant to go with the split group of white mantle that follow Caudecus, witness the attack on DR and later is among the few leftover mantle that chill/hide in the minister's Confessor's manor.

My initial plan was the "random background trash mob (aka my guy) gets overrun by the Commander and their party" but upon replaying the episode I was presented with two different options:

Option A)

The feared Commander's foot key.

I noticed there is a small group of white mantle directly behind the door the Commander uses their foot key on. And I mean. Come on. The joke writes itself at this point. Commander -> foot key -> door slam -> white mantle head. It was a powerful kick you see. Gets left in the rubble of the inevitable manor trashing that happens afterwards.

Option B)

There is a small group of white mantle chilling in the manor's library (or at least it's a room with many bookshelves). You don't really fight them until after the big Caudecus fight is done. The commander would still be the incapacitating force in that solution but I guess it's slightly less comical. In this option I like the idea of that group just sitting there in that room going "what the hell is all that noise on the corridor" lol.

At some point I'll decide on one of these. Or combine them into "guy gets hit by the door slam and withdraws to chill in the library with a massive headache until the Commander arrives" lol. We'll see.

So much about the getting knocked into the mists part, now for the why Justiciar Power Metal Thommis?

To be honest I don't know beyond "they're both white mantle" and "me the player stans Justiciar Thommis". Why DO you channel the mist legend you channel? I did actually consider distant family ties, but not sure I have the balls to commit to writing a canon character (that literally noone knows and noone cares about) into OC family. It would make for hilariously epic scolding from Thommis though. "Look at you! This is what our glorious bloodline has become! Face the foe with dignity you wet sponge of a warrior!" ....mh. Or something along those lines. That sounded funnier in my head.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed this incomprehensible rambling lol. Thanks for the ask <3

[sterekchub]

Spoiled Brat Stiles who the sheriff has allowed to get away with anything, he’s untouchable and always gets his way. Literally never been told no, throws a tantrum if he has to wait too long, etc… and new deputy Derek who is his glorified babysitter.

He eventually works out the best way to shut stiles up and keep him out of trouble is to stuff him so full that he can’t think… cut to a few years later and he’s a barely mobile blob who hasn’t had a thought beyond the pain in his stuffed stomach for a long long time.

"Barely mobile blob" and "Stiles" is the perfect pairing. When Claudia dies, the Sheriff for sure overcompensates. Isn't home a lot, Stiles mostly is babysat by whatever game system he wants or neighbors who help the Sheriff out. And all the deputies feel bad like "he lost his mom...the Sheriff is always working...it's tough." Which - gets him out of being dumb in high school because no one wants to pull over the Sheriff's kid and they all let him off with a warning and tell themselves "he's a good kid, he just acts out a little." And he hasn't done any major rule breaking so - he gets away with plenty. After high school says he's taking a "Gap year" which means sleeping in until 12 and ignoring the Sheriff's pleas to get a job. No one gives the newest member of the station the memo about the jeep or the Sheriff's bratty son. So Deputy Hale pulls over Stiles, ignores the "seriously, dude? You can't give me a ticket." Derek doesn't realize he's a Stilinski until he's got his license in hand, but he still doesn't care. Stiles gets a ticket, Derek is back at the station hours later, not thinking much of it as he fills out his paperwork for the day, until Stiles comes storming in asking about the "hot deputy who wrote him the ticket." The Sheriff grimaces a bit as he tells Derek that his son is..... "smart but a bit stubborn" and "maybe I've given into him too often." Then asks Derek as personal favor if he could just...keep on eye on Stiles when he's out on patrol, to keep him out of any major trouble. Which is how Derek ends up force feeding Stiles pizza and beer and finding out one way to keep him from being a brat.... *** He gets called to break up a party at the preserve. Flashes the lights and most kids go scrambling out of the abandoned house. Stiles is one of the few who didn't run.

"Don't be a fucking cockblock, dude. It was just a party." Derek kicks everyone else out with a stern yell and then tells Stiles "You can't be drinking underage." "I'm 4 months away from being 21. Who cares?" "Fine. Might as well drink the rest then!"

Derek loses his temper and starts stalks over to Stiles, holding his hair tightly in his grasp and tilting his head back as he cracks another beer open and starts pouring it down Stiles throat. "You can't do gurgle do this!" "Yeah? I found you drunk at a party. No one's gonna believe anything differently. Drink." "You can' Burp do th-hic.."

"Pizza is next..." Stiles is too drunk and bloated to complain to the Sheriff when he gets home, just staggers and leans heavily on Derek as they walk to the front door, hiccupping and burping. Even burps and slurs out an apology to his dad when Derek tells him what happened. It definitely gives Derek ideas for the future. It takes Stiles a few times (including Derek arresting him for a day and feeding him donuts in the holding cell) before they come to a good arrangement- mostly involving him eating everything Derek gives him...and in exchange Derek brings home more food and promises to fuck him after.... The Sheriff watches his son balloon and is actually relieved....no more speeding if he's too fat to fit behind the wheel of the jeep!

[vanillablankcanvas]

I was wondering, what made Floyd and Cabaret ultimately incompatible as a couple aside from the fact that Cabaret dumped Floyd for telling Cabaret's manager about his relapse?

I'm loving these in depth questions. I eat them up like candy. 😘💖💓

Okay so let me explain Cab a bit more.

Entitled - Cab is that person at auditions who 100% believes he will get the role even before he auditions. He tries to get into the competition's heads and freak them out so that they'll leave.

Judgemental/Loud/Opinionated - All kinda smooshed into one. Cab will tell you that your pants make you look fat. He thinks everything is a conspiracy and thinks everyone is jealous of him.

Demanding - He threatens to sue... a lot. He threatens the rehab because they don't have the facilities to care for Trolls. Size discrimination, racism, anything he can think of so that they cater to his needs.

He's basically like a Queen Bee in a Disney Movie. 😆

When they met, Floyd was grey and felt nothing. He was an addict and he needed help. He was lucky he had the strength left, to seek out the help he needed.

So at the time, Floyd NEEDED someone with Cab's personality to fight on his behalf.

Cab was his voice. ♥️

Cab loved it, he's never had anyone need him like this before. He became very territorial of Floyd. Cab's bed at rehab was more like a birds nest. It was a paper mache bowl filled with pillows and blankets and trinkets. They eventually shared the nest.

Then Floyd started to get better, feel a little more, colours looking a little brighter, playing music again. Cab started getting a bit insecure. Floyd didn't need him as much anymore.

Cab now had a literal and metaphorical empty nest. 🪹

They both left rehab together. Cab probably shouldn't have left at all. His insecurities got the best of him and he relapsed.

He tried to get Floyd to do it with him.

Some insecure part of him wanted Floyd to need him that way again but Floyd didn't want to be that way anymore.

Floyd tried to help Cab overcome it and stay clean but it didn't work. As much as he wanted to help, this was beyond Floyd's capabilities.

That's when he got Cab's manager involved.

So yeah, their personalities are really opposite ends of the spectrum. They had fun together but it really wouldn't last long term.

[dumbdomb]

26.a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

as if i don't constantly talk about it around here like a broken record? haha, ok... 🩷

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. You do not have my consent to "Like" this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

hanging out with a friend and doing some normal stuff, like movies or gaming. something that involves us being physically close but not in a sexual way. and yet it always leads to us being more affectionate, or maybe play wrestling, or just a little more touchy-feely with each other... in an absolutely platonic way, of course.

i don't usually think about hooking up with strangers or acquaintances. i like having a solid connection with people i'm intimate with, so it's not uncommon for me to fantasize about situations with "friends," which doesn't necessarily mean any of my actual friends. it's about a partner you have trust and a strong established bond with, someone you know well enough to really understand your emotions and expressions - like, how you are and how you process information, etc... they know you...

when i think about having a friend get closer to me, i feel safe with them (and i know they they feel safe with me, too). we're friends! so, of course, we know what each other's intimate desires are - we're best friends!! it makes total sense that they'd want to feel how much of my fat titty they could fit in their hand...

is it really so wrong to want the most trusted person in your life to care about you too much... as if you were always more than just a friend to them? a "real friend" would never betray your trust like this, but a true "partner" would never let you feel unwanted. the old classic slow burn, friends to lovers, with an emphasis on some cnc nipple play because i'm a complete slut for it!

i think about something like this almost every time i touch myself. the special relationship between two idiots who are in love with each other, but they don't know it bc they keep everything within this blurry lane between 'friend' and 'partner'. i've just always been smitten with the idea. it resonates with me. i may have watched too many hallmark movies, but i think this is a really great concept and totally will happen to me one of these days. i'm so sure of it, i mean... why else would i even have these big tits if not to be caressed and fondled by my most favourite person in the world?. 🥺

NO: lurkers, likes only, inactive, empty, or blank blogs. DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT. DNI. ♥️

[oldguardleatherdog]

Today's Wall O' Text: Our lives are at stake. Fat-shaming Trump is more than OK - it's necessary.

I've been taking hits for my blog entry in response to a Facebook post by a cyber friend taking the LGBTQ+ community to task for making fun of Trump's weight after he lied during his arrest in Atlanta yesterday that he weighed 215 pounds. I posted a blistering screed here earlier today as a reaction to seeing some Facebook friends make a post shaming the community for calling Trump out on yet another lie that his credulous followers will gladly swallow whole and think it tastes like chicken.

It boggles my mind that we're indulging in self-loathing admonitions to play nice and treat Trump with human kindness while he and his tens of millions of proxies are carrying out genocide against transgender Americans and passing legislation openly designed to remove LGBTQ+ people from civil society.

I've deleted my original post and follow-up and am restating it here with settings that limit the replies and reblogs, all of which were filled with vile personal insults and invective aimed at me for committing the SJW's canon unforgivable sin of making fun of someone's appearance - even though that "someone" is directing a campaign of forced detransitioning, enforced separation, erasure of us from history and culture, and is directing efforts that have the stated intent to immiserate and end our lives.

I've been a gay activist fighting for our right to exist for nearly four decades, and I don't care if I lose goodwill or karma points or cyberfriends over this stance. That stuff is wonderful and means a great deal, I don't take it lightly, and I know this might mean thee end of the goodwill coming my way and could mess up my ability to be here and help in other ways...

but the danger we're in is greater than my concern for my gig, ego, or status, and I'll give it all up in order to give this battle everything I've got. This is my last stand after nearly 40 years of activism, marching with ACT/UP and Queer Nation in the 90s fighting against the same forces, when I'd just gone HIV positive, when my friends and loved ones were dying of cat and bird diseases, down to 80 pounds in an oxygen tent, covered with lesions, tongues eaten away by candida...

They never got the chance to marry, to see 40, to find real love, to finish their art - and some made me promise that I would go on in their name and with their spirit, to finish the art and the work and the life they weren't going to get the chance to finish (I know the trolls will say I'm lying and they can F off all the way to Hell and stay there, the nerve of them to shit on their souls and our memories of them).

I may lose a lot of cyber friends, and that's unfortunate, but I have to sleep at night.

Here's what I wrote:

To those who are telling me we shouldn't make fun of Trump's weight:

I wholeheartedly dissent.

Trump, like Reagan, is our murderer.

The current and ongoing trans genocide is his fault.

Drag bans, the continuing LGBTQ+ rights rollback, the systematic erasure of us from libraries and history and culture, the "groomerpedo" slur bombardment, pushing us into exile from our home states, legislation pending that will prohibit us from public spaces, the explicit goal of removing us from public view and civil society, Florida doctors who can refuse to treat us, forced detransition of all trans people in Florida and soon elsewhere, armed Proud Boys at drag shows, the Colorado Springs slaughter, and worse: all of this is directly Trump's doing.

And still, we're deluded enough to go high when they go low!

Attempts from within the community to muzzle ourselves in the name of some ridiculous woo-woo SJW directive, this insidious assimilationist garbage, plays right into their hands and renders us weak and impotent.

No one is going to rescue us. If you're not involved in hardcore activism RIGHT NOW, you are complicit in their efforts to kill us.

I dare you to challenge me. Make fun of the fatass bastard with gleeful abandon.

Get with the Goddamn program before it's too late.

***

I've restricted replies and additions to the main post. Feel free to sound off in the notes and reblogs, but this is where I stand on the most important issue we're contending with as a community, and I won't allow my words to be conditioned or their impact diluted.

I know my beloved mutuals will be dismayed, and I'm truly sorry because I do value you and your own well-reasoned and strong opinions and this could reasonably be regarded as an attempt to diminish or trivialize you politically, philosophically, and personally; please know that's not my intent.

As an LGBTQ+ activist for more than 37 years, who marched with ACT/UP and Queer Nation during a time that was in many ways worse than the climate of today, I have a duty and an obligation to say things clearly, bluntly, fully, with unambiguous conviction:

OUR LIVES ARE AT STAKE. PEOPLE ARE SUFFERING. WE'RE BEING DRIVEN OUT OF OUR HOMES.

THEY ARE FORCING TRANS PEOPLE TO REVERT TO THEIR ASSIGNED GENDER AT BIRTH SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY WITH BRUTAL SADISTIC GLEE, MAKING THEM WATCH THEIR BODIES DYSMORPH AND REGRESS HOUR BY HOUR.

THEY HAVE CLEARLY, PUBLICLY, AND REPEATEDLY STATED THEIR INTENT TO REMOVE US FROM SIGHT AND CIVIL SOCIETY AND THEY ARE DOING IT TO US RIGHT NOW, TODAY, AS YOU READ THIS -

- and you have the sheer unmitigated temerity, the nerve, the gall to tell me I'm wrong to encourage fat-shaming of that man, that loathsome pustulent festering open wound on our nation and our world, whose God is his belly, whose proxies and minions and TENS OF MILLIONS OF FOLLOWERS AND WORSHIPPERS IN THIS COUNTRY are in lockstep with his intent -

- you tell me I'm wrong, shamelessly and mindlessly and in open denial of what you see in front of your naive and deluded eyes, and when you do this YOU ARE TELLING ME YOU DON'T CARE, YOU THINK I'M LYING TO YOU, YOU WON'T HELP SAVE US, YOU ARE UNWILLING TO SAVE YOURSELF, and YOU ARE MAKING THE CHOICE TO JOIN HIM AND AID HIS EFFORTS TO WIPE US OUT.

Join me, or get the hell out of my sight, my life, and my community. We need you like we need AIDS - and I've had AIDS for 33 years and I tell you: you are worse than AIDS, because AIDS is a mindless and brainless and soulless and consciousless killer, a virus, but you are killing us knowing full well what you are doing.

That is all that I am going to say to you.