#but bearly visible

[jollycryptid]

Redaar's Wonderful Time In The Lowland Shore. He loves it there :)

[absoluteloser64]

james sunderlands leg kink??

when I'm going to bed at night I think of these scenarios and write them the next day within 1 hour, don't expect good quality porn lmao NOT PROOFREAD content warning: somnophillia :p

she was crying her eyes out next to him, the girl he found in the fog. both of them covered in the gore from the monsters outside.

her wooly jumper having being nervously picked at was coming loose at the threads, her nails stained red from biting them so hard. eyes all red and puffy, she was the definition of helpless.

clinging onto his arm, as her sobs never seemed to cease. and although he pitied her, and wanted to save her from this hellscape she found herself in. he couldn't tear his eyes away from her legs.

those gorgeous legs were laid flat, quivering against the rotten floorboards, slender and clean. untouched from blood that had dried itself on them. a miracle considering that short skirt she was wearing.

he didn't even know her name, she was frightened, and needed his protection. but he could bearly tear his eyes away or his mind from these thoughts, these godawful lust filled thoughts.

he squeezed his eyes shut, licking his dry lips and reminded himself of why he was here in Silent Hill, for the love of his life. squeezing his picture of her that laid in his jacket pocket. thinking of how sweetly she will call his name when they meet again.

feeling calmer and realising how quiet the dark room they were hiding in had become, he slowly opened his eyes, seeing her asleep on his shoulder with her legs curled up towards her, and closer to him.

she must know. how can she not? this temptation felt biblical...

he listened to her breathing pattern, even and calm, she felt safe around him.. but she shouldn't of. he grit his teeth in disgust at himself, however he couldn't help but timidly place his large hand against her thigh.

and god did that slight touch send a bolt of pleasure right through him, he let out a quiet sigh of relief, keeping his hand still. admiring the soft suppleness..how his palm covers more than the width of her upper leg, he could just break it..

he squeezes the flesh without a second thought, but hearing a hitch in her breathing causes his hand to fly back in fear that he had been caught. yet she still slept ever so soundly.

the print of his hand blemished her skin beautifully and he almost drooled at how easily she marked. feeling his pants become tight at the sight.

'like a peach' he thought in his lust clouded mind, two fingers leaving his clenched fist to lightly brush against her leg. stroking from her kneecap, all around down towards his handprint, tracing the large mark with his fingernail, wishing to dig it into her plush muscle to leave a permanent reminder of him.

he quietly moaned aloud at the thought, yet she was still in her deep slumber. his desperate mind justified his actions as he proceeded to unbutton his jeans, freeing his bulge from it's tight cage.

his thick cock was pointed, red raw and needy. It had been so long since he had last seen himself so erect. it had felt impossible after Mary's....passing.

he shoved those feelings to the back of his mind as he brushed the precum off and onto her thigh admiring how it glistened in the little amount of moonlight they were granted in the room.

he began stroking his penis in tandem with his other hand, featherlight on her leg, rough and hard on his dick, his hand turning white at the pressure.

thrusting upwards into his hand he could just imagine fucking those legs, in between her plump thighs, covering them in his cum over and over again.

he let out a loud growl as he released all over her legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head as it spurted out incessantly. thick and gloopy, visibly showing how long it had been since he last came.

regret filled him immediately as he stared at his mess and her. how could he have done this to her..he thought as his penis began to twitch at the sight of her marked thighs, craving another go while this could last.

he sighed, and rubbed his cum around her soft skin, swirling it around, thanking the lord she was still asleep..

so helpless, he smiled.

[superums]

why do i cry — 42! miles prt 2.

spidey!reader. angst with happy ending. for general audiences. (cannon) character death. no y/n. childhood friends to crush to enemies to lovers. no official confession but a official confession. part 2 of this fic. somewhat of a accidental confession trope

color coded text: miles. you/spidey.

inspired by: why do i cry - margo guryan

"miles?" you felt like throwing up all over again, looking at the boy you've loved for almost all your life talking down to you. you were almost living the worst day of your life all over again.

you closed your eyes, expecting another barrage of punches only to be met with a hand grabbing your mask. you grabbed his arm but you were too weak to stop him.

in a instant your face was met with the cold snowflakes falling from the sky. readjusting your eyes you saw him standing over you. time stood still—what was a few seconds felt like years, decades.

your body loved faster then your mind did, snatching your mask, you put it back on before leaving him in your wake.

that entire week you genuinely felt sick with heart break. your mother tried to get you out of bed many times but she each time she came your face was wet with fresh tears.

you couldn't tell her why, you didn't want anyone else thinking less of you. instead you told her "i just need time.. please."

she gave you space, cooking your favorite meal every single day until you felt better and each time you did think you were getting better, the image of miles standing over you would come back making you feel sick all over again.

in the four weeks it was almost like you stopped existing from anyplace but your bedroom and in your absence crime started to pick up again, and so did the complaints from the media.

"some hero spidey is huh? kingpin robs bank after bank and that useless web-head is nowhere to be found?! new york this just shows we can't trust that sorry excuse of a hero for anything!"

jonah jameson yelled into his camera—he wasn't alone. from all over new york, anchors were throwing every professional name they could think of at you, miles felt like he was the blame.

in the weeks you've been gone his mind has yet to calm. he was about to kill you, if he didn't take off your mask theres no telling what he would've done.

he's been trying to stay away from you, but now crime is risen and theres been several threats that someone is going to attack the brooklyn bridge he knew he had to find you.

now he's standing in your bedroom. he almost stopped breathing as he stopped your still frame. walking closer, he sat next to your feet gently as he could. it took him forever before he opened his mouth.

"i..." he looked at his gauntlet. "i'm sorry for what i did... what i said." the lack of light of your room hid his the sick look on his face. your eyes were wide open and watering slightly as you saw his dark figure from the moonlight outside.

"i did believe what they said about you—how you killed my father... how you're a murderer... a cowardly killer. maybe since it was....maybe since it was him, it was easier for me to believe." you almost felt sick as you saw him wiping his face and sniffling; he was trying not to cry.

you listened as miles talked to himself out loud; he says that he didn't know how to handle jeffs death and that uncle aaron was the only person he felt like he could turn to.

that he worried his mom because he's out so late and bearly talks to anyone anymore but he has to provide for her now that his dads gone.

it takes him a while to stop talking and after that he sits in your room in silence almost like he was going to say something else, instead he heads to your window.

your open eyes stared into the darkness corners of your room as you contemplated stopping him. you wanted to let him go, you wanted to hate him but your heart wouldn't allow it—grabbing his hand you stopped him in his tracks.

whipping his head to face you, you stood on your knees in your bed, you were visibly disheveled, even shaking as you held his hqnd. "miles, i....." you were fighting back vomit and tears as you looked at the boy you love.

it didn't seem appropriate, he just confessed he wanted to kill you because of the news and that he wanted to make you pay—but you can't hold this in any longer. for as long as you could remember you've wanted to confess to him, now this might be the last time you see him ever you have to get it off your chest.

"miles...i like you—no i love you... even after what you said to me on that roof top." it felt like the world stopped for both you and him, his heart fastened as he stared at you. you closed your eyes, expecting him to leave, to say he had a girlfriend even laugh again you but instead you were met with a hug.

his gloved hand rubbed your back and his head burring itself into your shoulder. "i don't know what i'd do if you didn't..." you two cradled each other for a while before separating to look each other in the eyes. "i didnt mean to hurt you." he says after a moment.

holding your hand, he walked you to your window before opening it again. you squeezed his tighter as you saw him get ready to leave. kissing your cheek, he began to climb out of it. "i'll come see you after school... make sure you're dressed, imma take you somewhere." "y-yeah okay."

your legs felt like jelly as you watched him leave. heading back to your bed, you layed on your back for a moment before turning on your stomach and kicking your feet. "i better hurry up and get to bed.. i have a date tomorrow."

taglist: @lunagalaa @awow-2 @coffeeandtealol

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (24/∞) ♛

↬ Queen Irene's Louts Tiara

Most of the tiaras in Sunderland's royal vault have decades-long histories that are, in most cases, carefully documented. However, some tiaras are more elusive. Queen Irene's lotus tiara remains one of the most mysterious in the royal vault. The tiara first made its public debut during the 1994 New Year’s Gala. When Queen Irene stepped out to view the annual fireworks display her tiara was bearly visible. The delicate platinum tiara with pearl toppers was partially obscured by Irene's mound of blond hair and the tumultuous January snowstorm made getting a clear shot of the tiara even more difficult. Over the following years, jewels hard time identifying the tiaras's origin and providence. Most likely, the tiara was gifted to Irene following her 1968 wedding to the Prince of Danforth, but this has yet to be confirmed by any official sources. Irene only ever wore this mystery tiara once and following its 1994 appearance, it disappeared for decades, with some claiming it had been dismantled. However, in 2020 the tiara made a second sudden appearance, this time being worn by the Queen's daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Sherbourne. Rumours that the tiara had been dismantled proved to be false, in fact, the tiara looked nearly identical to its 1994 setting with one key difference — the queen's original pearl toppers had been replaced by emeralds, widely speculated to be Illriyan emeralds from the Queen's personal jewelry box. Shelby, said to be the king's favourite daughter-in-law, has kept the lotus tiara in steady rotation along with her wedding tiara and another emerald tiara. Over the years, Shelby has gotten creative, routinely swapping the tiara's toppers (or removing the toppers altogether to wear the piece as a bandeau!) with different gemstones including turquoise in 2024, pink topaz in 2026, and peridot in 2027. The tiara's past still remains ambiguous, but the Duchess has ensured that it won't be easily forgotten.

Queen Irene wears her lotus tiara during the 1994 New Year's Gala,, in the background Princess Jacqueline can also be seen wearing the Wynn meander tiara

The Duchess of Sherbourne wears the tiara with emerald toppers in 2022

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

hiya :D

i love ur headcannons they always make me laugh reading them!

do u think u could do some on what subjects u think the mercs would teach if they were teachers?

What Subjects Would The TF2 Mercs Teach?

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Awe, thank you, Anon, that's so sweet 💖 I can definitely write this, it seems like a lot of fun! UH going to just assume that these guys are teaching at a college, so they get specialized fields to teach!

This is probably going to be very similar to "What Jobs Would The TF2 Mercs Have If They Weren't Mercenaries" post, so I'll probably keep this shorter so I don't end up repeating myself, uh I also added how the classes would like them as a teacher!

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Demo would teach chemistry, trying very hard not to dabble with anything too illegal in his classroom. He loves the way science almost works like magic when it comes to chemistry. Loves the bearly visible bridge between a perfect result and utter chaos. His students are both deeply terrified and greatly inspired by Demo. He's a genius when it comes to science, and it shows through the times he's deeply concentrated while teaching. May or may not have "accidentally" shown the class how to make explosives. Oops.

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Engie is a fan of biomedical engineering regardless of if it's his job or just something he'd be asked to teach to people who were curious about it. He has such a passion for the mix of two things he loves, helping people and making things. He will go on for hours, showing examples of how important biomedical engineering is, how impactful even one person in the field can be. His students would love the passion he speaks on the subject with and how willing he is to make sure everyone in his class understands the material.

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Heavy would teach Russian literature after being inspired by his teachers. The passion they showed in their teachings and how willing they were to prioritize helping students evoked feelings in him that he never known. He does everything for his students, making sure that everyone is supported. He tries his hardest to give his all to make these students feel the same passion he has for it. His students love him, and his class is one of the most popular, has made large impacts on every student that's came into his class.

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Medic teaches, shock of all shocks, medical classes! I know, I know, but what can I say? He lives for the medical field. Keeps his class ethical enough, stating multiple times that as doctors, their job is to heal and save lives. However, some of his students who share the same, uh, curious shine in their eyes are more than welcome to attend a class that dips into the unethical side of medical practices. He's a good teacher, and his students are fond of him for his unsettling aura and passion.

(Can you tell I know jack all about medicine and how it's taught lmao)

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Scout is a teacher in sports journalism, and his class both loves and loathes him as a teacher. He loves sports, so writing about them is super easy! He has a lot of fun teaching other people the best way to describe things and how to put their feelings on the page, but he's also horrendous at spelling and writing in general. His class understands his struggles but gets rather annoyed when Scout pulls up an article he wrote and can't understand any of it. He's trying his best, and he makes a half decent teacher.

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Sniper is a photography teacher, and honestly? His class isn't for everyone. In Snipers mind through every picture he takes he's expressing a deep feeling or trying to invoke an emotion in the viewer, which he succeeds in most of the time, but it's hard for other people to replicate that when you, don't. Talk. To. Them. Some people just pick up photography and understand exactly how to do what Sniper expects without guidance, others can't understand at all. Basically, not a teacher, teacher.

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Spy is teaching political science, hoping he can somehow subtly influence a few students into using the knowledge he provided to find a profession in espionage. He's definitely a teacher who would make you nervous, kind of a mean teacher, but he never let's a student fall behind. Subtly offering help or an extension to make sure his students succeed. Claiming he doesn't do it out of love for his students, just so he isn't known for having any failures in his class.

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Soldier is the worlds best american history teacher, hands down. You want to talk about passion? He loves American history and will go on the longest rants and makes all of them entertaining. His class is never dull or boring. He's another prime example of a teacher who will do anything for his students and make sure they understand everything going on. No man left behind and all that. His students love him :)

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Pyro is a teacher of fire science (I didn't even know that was a thing, but apparently it is, who knew?) Pyro, being obsessed with lighting fires, knows quite a bit about all types of fire is more than happy to share their knowledge about flames. While their students can barely understand them, they don't call Pyro out on it as their passion for the subject transcends words. Pyro's class is less of a class than a period of entertainment, but somehow everyone comes away from the class knowing everything they needed, and even somethings they didn't.

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Short and sweet little headcanons, how fun! Sorry if it's actually too short! Thank you again for the ask anon, super fun to write :)

I'm just now realizing that there's a chance that this won't make sense because I'm a little tired while writing this, so I hope it turned out well. Sorry if it didn't, Anon 😭

[thenatallie]

Control part II

Written for @infinitememory12345

Lady Margot is pregnant with Na-Baron Feyd. What she should do from now on?

Explicit smut, long foreplay, Feyd masturbating, 18+, NSFW.

Feyd asked himself what it took Margot so long! It has been the fifth day since they passionate encounter. How could she not come earlier? However, she is coming definitely in two days by evening. Well, he can be patient, although he bearly can wait... Her body and words promissed she would come back.

Feyd is used to get everything he wanted. Sex is everywhere, waiting for him. But this woman... He can't get her out of his mind. He lost interest in all his concubines, having fantasies about Margot instead. He can't remember if that happened to him before...

He was more than pleasantly surprised by her arival at dusk that same day. Exactly as he told the guards, two of them escorted her directly to his room. When the door closed, they looked at each other for a couple of seconds, without a word. Margot knew she would have an intense reaction to his sex appeal, but was struck by desire stronger than she could imagine. Damn... She felt butterflies in her stomach... Those very things complicated situation for her even more.

It seems that Feyd could tell how she feels, his face proud. Then he starts to gaze at her lips, involuntarily biting his own. Then there is a sudden change of his mood. Frowning at her, crossing arms around his chest, he broke the silence: "What took you so long?" Now she needs to be very carefull... She decides to be a damsel in distress, which is not so far away from truth. Approaching step by step toward him, she said quietly: "Feyd... I am in a big problem and I need your help." Then she stopped, holding her stomach. "I am pregnant with your child."

Feyd, gazing at her, slowly parted his lips, as if he wanted to ask something, but for some time he remained speechless. Frowning again, he finally asked: "Isn't it too early to know that?" "I know, I am the Bene Gesserit. Right after I woke up next to you that day, I knew it." "Is it something you planned from the start? That is why the box test!", he snapped. "No, who do you take me for?!", she snapped back, but quickly bit her tongue. Fighting with Feyd could be very slippery terrain. "What is important here..." she started crying, "I am having your child and nobody must know that! I can not even imagine consequences of this, you need to help me, please!" Feyd fell for her tears, her vunerability caused some, to him strange, gentle feelings. Then he felt a sudden burst of rage: "You are to divorce from Hasimir, or I'll torture him until death! He shall not raise my child!" She was shocked at first. Then started crying again: "No Feyd, please! I don't want bloodshed over me! And, try to understand, I don't want to humiliate the Count. I don't love him, but I respect him. I mean... used to respect him until that night with you..." That night with him... Feyd instantly knew that he must control his temper. Otherwise he could lose this indepenent woman, his precious lover. He approached and gently wiped tears from her cheeks. Even now, he could not control his lustful gaze at her beautiful lips. "I can give you some time. I guess I do not have to kill him." Margot's eyes now full of hope: "Thank you! I will sort things about divorce my way, I have a few months left until my belly becomes visible." He slowly started to stroke her bare shoulders. His face serious. "As well, I don't want Bene Gesserit to raise our child... It should be us." Margot could not believe what she has just hearted. Us! She finally felt safer. He was still concerned. "Do Bene Gesserit already know about this?" Now Margot, while caressing his shoulders, neck and cheeks, replied softly: "I am Bene Gesserit and a very good negotiator. There is no need that others control life of our child." "Hmmm... If you raise our child that way, what would be an outcome?", Feyd was puzzled this time. "It could be incredibly powerful person", she smiled at him and felt that she convinced him. Feyd's eyes glistened. "Oh? I'll also give you some time to explain that", and playfully winked at her. A second later they both realized how close they are to each other, fondling...

His pouty, already redened and so wanting lips are getting closer and closer to hers. He closes his eyes slowly, she too. Their lips gently touch for a few seconds, as they are both mesmerized by their hot heavy breaths. Her knees become weak as they are now exchanging tender, slow and so intimate, intense kisses. She feels enormous desire for him rising from her burning core and lower stomach like a storm. And again those butterflies in her stomach, so she wondered if he is capable of feelings like that... Feelings?! "Surprising and too early", she reminds herself. Soon desire overtakes her completely and she is already indulging in Feyd's hungry lips. They are adding toungue from time to time. She starts to shiver as his palms move gently from her shoulders to her spine, getting lower, and beneath her dress... Feyd realizes that he has developed a soft spot for Margot. Her warm skin is like silk. Feyd feels like they are kissing for the first time. He is dazed because of overwhelming feels she gives him, devours her hungrily but slowly, roughly moaning into her mouth. He becomes mad of desire and takes a few deep breaths to control himself before things go too harsh for her delicate state. So much patience, like with no other woman before, waiting for her next move. Her soft hands on his shoulders, feeling his masculine body and warmth of it under his robes. While still kissing, she slowly starts to unbutton him.

Feyd looks at her, his gaze is so darkly seductive and full of anticipation for what's coming next. Gently, he pulls Margot to himself, so she can feel how stone-hard is his dick, even beneath so many layers of their clothes. It is even harder for him to maintain control of his lust when he feels his crotch against hers. He hissed, as he had to imagine that he bends her over any furniture part in the room and fucks her brutally hard from behind, pulling her hair... But he remains in control. Instead, he gently starts to unzip back of her dress. Trailing his fingers up over her spine to the neck, he removes her scarf and takes off her dress, as his warm wet kisses travel from her neck to bare shoulders. She has managed to unbutton his whole tunic and he put it away. Feyd takes a moment to look at Margot in disbelief how beautiful she is in royal blue silk and lace undergarments. Margot stands in front of him, amazed by his beautiful gothic appearance, and the way he reacts to her. Feyd remained only in the elegant long black skirt with leather belt on his hips. His face is just - beautiful and strong warrior body like carved from white stone. Her cheeks are red and pupils so enlarged that her eyes appear as very dark. Feyd could not endure much longer. He carried Margot to his bed with black silk sheets, put her in a half sitting position, her back resting on luxurious pillows. Then he kneels on the bed in front of her, making sure she takes a good look at him. Margot takes a long deep breath while closes her eyes, opening them again to stare at him, whispering: "You are absolutely gorgeous, Feyd..." - "You are perfect", he replied quietly, "and... I have been waiting for you for so long." "I have missed you, Feyd." "How much?", he asked quietly, almost in disbelief. "You can't imagine... " Playfully and seductively he asked: "And what were you doing when you missed me most?" "I won't tell you that!", she giggled. She became playful, too: "And what were you doing while waiting for me, if I may ask?" Feyd's face now daring, gaze lustful: "Let me show you." He unfastens his belt quickly and the skirt falls down. Licking his lips perversely, he starts to stoke his huge cock with skin soft as silk. A droplet of his nectar is on the top of it, lubing it while he slowly moves his strong hand up and down, caressing his aching manhood. Margot's eyes are wide in amazement. She had felt the first time that he is very gifted, but now she has the chance to see it... She knows now that he turns her on like no other man did before. And Feyd can tell that. He finally comes to a realization that he had previously hid from himself: he wants to please her...

To be continued...

[dashing-through-ecto]

Crown of Horns AU (a funky AU from the discord server)

The Crown Of Fire chose Danny after his victory over Pariha Dark. As the crown burrowed itself deep inside of Danny's core and formed an unbreakable bond with him, it felt that Danny didn't want to be ruler of the infinite realms.

The crown knew that Danny could not refuse the throne so it grew horns of bone and blood all the way to Danny's head as a mark of royalty for the young ruler.

Danny despised the horns. They were growing fast, were sensitive to even his own touch and they were constantly visible, even in his human form.

Danny has tried countless times to rid himself of the horns. Cut them of with a saw, break them off with a hammer, scrape them down to the skin. The pain was agonizing and blood was flowing freely from the broken horns.

But as soon as he was done, they would start to grow back. Not only that, but they grew back longer, sturdier and with more jagged edges then before.

Danny, in his desperation, seeked out Frostbite and his unending knowledge about all things ghostly. The gentle giant was ecstatic! The great one has been judged by the Crown Of Fire and chosen as new king of the infinite realms!

Danny couldn't utter a singel word as Frostbite told him all about the horns.

They are a mark of rulership that was bestowed upon a newly appointed king or queen who feels themselves unfit or unprepared for their duty. The crown itselve lays dormant inside his very core untill Danny excepts the title of king and the throne of the infinite realms.

As long as Danny rejects his rightful fate, he will never be rid of the horns.

Lost for words and utterly hopeless, Danny fleas the Far Frozen. Seeking out the time keeper that is his second most trusted mentor, he makes his way to Clockworks tower.

The ancient ghost was already waiting for him, as he usually does. Gripping his horns in a fearful panic, Danny stumbels over his words. He's begging the time lord to let him go back and fix this.

He couldn't be king! He's only a child! Bearly even a teenager! He couldn't rule a whole nother dimension! He couldn't even keep his room clean! Someone else had to take the crown! Just let him go back and give it to someone else! Please!

But Clockwork has seen it all. Danny is to be king and nothing could change it anymore. They were in the correct timestream and he could not interfere anymore.

It cracked Clockworks core to deny the young ghost boy his last hope. The old ghost knew what would likely happen next and his concern for what it could so to young Daniel was immense. But all was as it's supposed to be. His hands were tied.

Danny couldn't believe it. Even clockwork, in his eternal wisdom, wouldn't see reason.

With his strongest allies turning their backs on him Danny feared there was only one person potentially capable of removing the horns for good.

It was time to visit Vlad.

Danny would get rid of those hellish things growing from his head. He'd have to.

[morbidlychubese]

Resubmitting this ask just in case it was the one Tumblr ate. If its not then I guess you can ignore it like the last one. Either way I hope you have a wonderful day.

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Fedee splitting open your wedding dress??? I fucking love it.

I can imagine you, Just bearly able to waddle down the isle. Having to use a walker or cane or something, being completely exhausted and out of breath by the time you make it to the alter, where I'm waiting for you. Absolutely no one expects your massive Fatass to stand, so there's a reinforced stool for you to sit on.

Your dress looks Painfully tight on your poor fat Fecund Blubber Gut. Yes Fecund, I decided 11 months ago that I wanted my bride to waddle down the isle with a belly full of my squiming brood. Its not my fault that due to scheduling issues our ceremony  had to be postponed and you had to hold them in an extra 2 months.

Anyway, Our lovechildren aren't the only thing that are bloating out your Blubber Gut today. You think you're soo cleaver. You think that you've stuffed your fat face as much as you possibly could before waddling down the isle and that No One would be able to tell under your vail. I can see through it, hell I can smell it on you. You fat fucking piglet, your mouth is covered in food from your gorging yourself.

Fortunately for you, my sole response to your shameless, disgusting, debased, glutinous, debauchery is Beaming Pride and animalistic lust.

However Pride cometh before the fall, and juuust when you thought you made it to the alter, and are gonna sit down on the stool, thats when it happens.

Your packed full stomach is working hard on your latest meal, as well as your stuffed full Guts are working on the massive meal you had this morning. All this squeezing into too small wedding dresses, and waddling down isles isn't very good for the digestion, so you overworked guts start fighting for more space. Unfortunately for you this wakes up the kids and they start fighting for space as well.

And thats when your pretty little dress loses the war.

⛔ 👗 ⛔

Your dress explodes and while your milk bloated blubber tits are still contained, but from the bust down your dress is naught but tattered ribbons.

The kids take this newfound freedom as an invitation to start playing hackey sack with your prostate, again 🙄. As usual, this makes you involuntarily cum buckets all over the church floor.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen all scramble to cobble together something from the ribbon scraps to cover you with. They eventually peace together a makeshift loincloth to cover you. The front of wich is soon complete drenched by your nonstop emissions.

Our children continue their relentless Assault on your prostate throughout the ceremony. Your bloated belly visibly writhing with their movements. Their all out attack forces you to shoot rope after rope after rope of ejaculate endlessly as the ceremony progresses. Soon the small puddle grows into a larger pool that all the bridesmaids and groomsmen are forced to stand in.

Only the preist, due to the pulpit is spared the 'rising waters'. A lone island of dry land surrounded by the still growing sea of your emissions.

Your thoughts?

It was this one! Thank you!!

I think this is my dream wedding. So utterly embarrassing to be so blissfully indulgent in front of so many people. I'm already round and gravid from you, and I'd have stuffed myself until I reeked like fast food. That's definitely a part of why I explode hehe. That, and being to fat to walk, but being made to waddle anyway. Using my tree trunk thighs for the very last time in front of everyone who thought they knew me. So fucking wonderful.

Also, I would totally read this if it were a kink short story

[luvly-writer]

“But oh..cara mia”

Ch. 2: The Engineer of hearts

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Dick Grayson x Latina! Reader

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Damian alone is a warning in itself

Author’s note: Chapter two! The last chapters of “You are my sunshine” will be posted soon so worry not!  Enjoy!

Taglist: @lorosette @prettyacademia00 @nanas-teatime

Series Masterlist:

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A few weeks passed, and Yn’s role in the family was easy to determine. She was the one that designed the majority of their weapons and suits and she would help Alfred with tending to their injuries and wounds. Her presence truly intrigued him. There was a section of the Batcave that was closed off when he got here, yet now it was open and he would see that it was a huge lab. Her lab. She would spend most days tinkering there, checking on the training simulations and equipment, checking everyone’s suits, conducting check-ups on everyone’s health, testing the weapons and tinkering on them, making sure their suits were in optimal condition, and writing all of her observations on her iPad. She was truly intelligent, Damian had deduced and deemed her a little respectable. He hadn’t seen her fight yet, so that’s why it was only a little. She was comforting to be around, making it easy to forget his mission sometimes. He would see the others constantly joke around with her and mess around whenever they were free. Even Todd had started to come more frequently to the manor because of her. And don’t get him started on his father, there were times were any of her smart-ass comments together with the antics of the group would create a small, bearly visible smile on his face. She was always nice to him but never allowed him to step over her. She would gladly put him back in his place if he ever stepped out of line and it was strangely comforting. Unlike the others, even though she recognized he was a child, she would treat him as an equal when it came to Robin, patroling, and anything related to vigilantism. He almost got carried away a few times, but then, he’d see the change both Grayson and her would have any time they were together and he was reminded of what he wanted to do. It was weird between them. He’d notice that her eyes would always search for Grayson first after they came from patrol, almost as if she needed to make sure he came back alive. As for Grayson, sometimes he would go directly toward her so that she would fix his wounds, neither of them speaking. Damian noticed how Grayson’s eyes would soften every time he saw the girl. But what Damian noticed the most was that they never. stopped. bickering. When it began, he noticed the others let out a sigh, of relief, annoyance, and amusement painted on their faces. They would argue over everything and Damian had to admit, it was kind of funny seeing someone actually get on Grayson’s nerves in a way no one else could. Like the rest, sometimes he would revel in their arguments, finding enjoyment, but other times, it was plain annoying. He would hear Brown and Todd make bets on when the next argument would starts and Gordon call them an old married couple. Then, they would go back to absolute coldness and harshness towards the other. Their relationship exasperated Damian to no end. He NEEDED to get to the bottom of this. It was hot and cold, inconsistent at best, and Damian had had it. He began the first phase of his plan, the files. Damian needed access to the personal files at the Batcomputer and he wanted to be alone. No one could know what he was doing because they would tease him mercilessly. The problem was that the Batcave always had someone. Thankfully, one night, after a nasty injury, Yn had recommended Bruce to have Damian benched for a few days. Following her advice, something that surprised Damian seeing as Bruce was as stubborn as a mule when it came to decisions, Bruce benched him. At first he was furious but seeing as he would have the cave to himself he reluctantly agreed. He said he would manage comns for the night and managed to convince everyone. Now, he found himself sitting in front of the Batcomputer, alone in the cave, aside from Yn who was in her lab evaluating her notes with her headphones on. Alfred had gone to the kitchens to prepare something so that they could eat after patrol. He clicked on the files and searched for her name. Soon, he was presented with her entire file and so the search began. 

Full name: Yn Mn LN

Age: 25

Parents:

Full name: F/n Ln

Race:

-Puerto Rican

Status: Deceased

-Died in an accident

Full name: M/n L/n

Race:

-Amazon

Status: Deceased

-Died in a car crash. 

Legal Guardian (s): Diana Prince

Place of residency:

Puerto Rico, until age 9

New York: Ages 9- 18

Gotham: Ages 9 - present

Education: 

Gotham Academy:

elementary to high school

Gotham Univerisity:

Bachelor: Biotechnological Egineering

Masters: Medical Engineer

Vigilante:

-Calvary

Trained under Bruce Wayne alias Batman and Diana Prince Alias Wonder Woman

Common alias: wonderbat

Status: Retired

“Done investigating me?” said Yn, as she walked towards Damian, making him close the tab and turn around. Promising to get back to it later. Damian glared at her and she raised her eyebrow at him and smirked. “You could have asked, Demon brat, I would have answered, you know?” ok, maybe he won’t have to go back to the tab now that he can interrogate her. “How many questions am I allowed?” he said, eyes narrowed at her and she shrugged and gestured for him to follow her to her lab. He got up and followed her as she answered, “As many as you like until I get tired of answering”. She sat on her usual stool and gestured toward the one in front of her. Damian took it and looked at her, she was smirking knowingly at him.

 “You don’t seem uncomfortable or surprised that I was looking at your file, why is that?” 

“Cause I was already expecting it”

  “How so?”

“You are part of this insane paranoid family, a new person means research has to be done in order to trust,” she said leaning forward. Damian nodded. She smiled at the kid, his existence was amusing to her. “Have you checked my file?” he asked and she laughed, “Of course! The very same night I met you, had a DNA check-up as well.” Damian nodded, so she was prepared. 

“You are an orphan?” he asked, starting the interrogation, 

“Yes, my parents died on a car crash when I was nine and I was sent to live with my godmother” 

“Diana Prince”

“Yes”

“It says you had lived both in New York and Gotham simultaneously, how so?”

“Diana, at the time, wanted to explore the city and lived there for a while, therefore I stayed with her. But she enrolled me in Gotham Academy. Bruce suggested it, seeing as they offer a good education, I’d be with Barbara and Richard, two kids close to my age that could kind of understand my life, and I would be under his protection as well, she agreed to it. So, I spent a good amount of time exchanging between the two cities via Zeta tubes. Would arrive on the mornings then leave after Alfred would pick us up.”

Damian nodded and asked his next question, “It said you were trained by both Father and Diana, is it true?”

The girl nodded and answered, “Yes. I would train with Bruce when I was in Gotham. Diana trained me, seeing as she would alternate between taking me to see my family from my father’s side in Puerto Rico and going to Themyscira during the summer. The Amazons trained me as one of their own.”

Knowing that she was just as capable of fighting and defending herself as the rest made Damian respect her fully. He asks again, “You were a vigilante?”

To which the girl nodded again, smiling softly remembering her days as a vigilante. “Yes, my name was Calvary. Now, I mostly help behind the scenes, unless it’s an extreme situation where all hands on deck are needed.”

Damian nodded again, interesting. “Why did you quit?” At that, the girl tensed up and her smile softened, eyes looking a little sad

“Um...wow” she breathed out, “various reasons, kid. Next question,” she said and Damian made a mental note of investigating that furthermore. He asks again, “What is your job then?”

She smiled at him and answered, “Well, I do many things.” she laughed. “I started designing the weapons and suits after I retired, which was by the time I was 19, I also design the training areas and simulations many of you use. I make notes and constantly upgrade them so that we stay in optimal condition and shape. Speaking of, I also make sure to check up on all of you, so that your health is at 100%. Which is why you see me making you guys pass by my lab once a week for scanning, I help with injuries and mostly everything medical. I am trying to get you guys on therapy and I will succeed one of these days aaaaaand finally, I am in charge of creating new technological advances so that your lives are easier. That’s about it. Like I said, behind the scenes.”

(Yn is basically Shuri from Black Panther)

 Damian nods, understanding that her position is truly admirable and essential. Finally, he asks the question that has been bothering him the most, “I have one last question,” Yn nods “What is your relationship with Grayson?”

[journalrants]

Can't EMPHASIZE enough how much I grieve childhood that I could have had. Like, people won't allow me to ever talk about it because... I could have had it worse, or from some stories it seems solid or some stories make folks so damn uncomfortable they just brush it off with a socially acceptable equivalent of "That's rough buddy."

Back to the point, I haven't heard enough discussions about how many things in childhood... simply aren't possible in adulthood. I hate how my parents were always telling me to work hard as a child so that I can have a better life as an adult (+ plenty of unnecessary rules and punishments to set me 'straight')

As a child I could have done some silly things in school and could have had moments of iconic cheekiness, for example, my classmates would sometimes pick a theme for their friend group(+others who would wish to participate) to have as a B theme in every english(+other languages) assignments, usually something random like a singer's name or whatever but sometimes they would go a step further and choose something kinda taboo for school, and it was hilarious when the teachers had to rank assignments and there was this random name or a phrase or a word in almost EVERY SINGLE one of them.

And I just wasn't allowed to have that or my parents would verbally or/and physically punish me(depending on the severity of the taboo theme). I hate how my friends could just stay after school for SO long, meanwhile I had to get back pretty soon to help out at home or ELSE.

I hate how when we would have presentations my classmates would insert memes into them and spark enjoyment in an otherwise boring setting, I had to make mine as formal and professional as possible(or with the subtle bearly visible memes, sometimes). I hate how they could vandalize the old damaged property and I couldn't simply because I was afraid if my parents found out.

There are so many more examples. All of the above was pretty harmless even within the school itself, but my parents were THAT obsessed over their image that they wouldn't let me do any of it regardless and made such a big deal out of every little thing I tried. Like, I was either stressing if my parents would find out or low key hating myself for ruining our classes' union.

And for all of my hard work... can't say I got anything out of it aside from the obvious benefits of consistent studying, which other B+ students had as well as fun childhoods.

The worst part is... that now as an adult, being formal and professional is actually a necessity in terms of having a job, so yeah, guess I just missed out on lots of fun is all. (*breaks down crying*)

[goldenempyrean]

I love your writing! Could you do one where it’s just Wanda and Nat no reader where Wanda’s really sick and out of it and has really bad fever dreams and Nats comforts her please.

Holding Her Through The Night

〚 Notes - Hey, I hope you don’t mind but since these requests are kinda similar I decided to put them together. Hopefully you like it! 〛

〚 Summary - Wanda’s having bad nightmares, Nat’s there to comfort her 〛

〚 Wordcount - 815 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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It was late into the night when Natasha felt a sharp jab in her stomach. Pulled from her sleep, she groggily looked down to see Wanda tossing and turning in a display of obvious distress.

The two women had been spooning as they slept, unfortunately Wanda had been sick for a couple of days now, for the most part her symptoms weren’t too awful but she just wasn’t able to shake her fever and it seems the poor dear really wasn’t getting a good night sleep either as it wasn’t long before her body was tossing again, her arm jabbing Nat in the side.

“Wanda, baby?” She speaks with a tenderness born of years of partnership and intimacy, her voice laden with obvious concern but Nat didn’t receive a reply, Wanda only continued to fidget restlessly. Her girlfriend really was the very image of a feverish mess, and quite frankly, it was worrying.

Natasha shifts closer, rubbing her thumb against the back of her girlfriend's neck and whispering soothingly, "It's okay... it's okay." The heat that radiates from Wanda's body is enough to raise her own temperature to discomfort's edge.

Natasha continued to whisper sweet nothings into Wanda’s ear until she finally woke up, her body bolting upright as she began to shake.

“Na-“ Wanda could bearly choke out her girlfriend’s name before she began sobbing, throwing herself into the arms of the redheaded-assassin. Both girls had seen the others in the throws of a nightmare, but never once had Nat seen Wanda so visibly shaken by one.

The warmth in Natasha's voice was the only thing keeping Wanda from breaking down in full-on panic. Her chest tightened with fear. What had she dreamed? She didn't even remember. It was just the feeling left behind, something horrible she was sure, even if she couldn't properly recognise it.

She's been reduced to a quaking puddle, no more than a shivering, whimpering mess. "N-Nat, I..." she stammers, her whole body vibrating from the effort. "I t-th-thought... I was-" Her voice cracking with the strain of so much emotional vulnerability and another sob chokes her.

“Its okay, you’re okay. You’re safe, we’re both safe. Nothing’s ever going to hurt you sweetie, I promise, I wont let anything bad happen to you.” Natasha soothed her quietly, reaching over to grab a tissue before dabbing at the tears streaming down Wanda’s cheeks.

Natasha continued to sooth her girlfriend, continuing to whisper her words of comfort until the soft whimpers eventually slowed.

Wanda blinks twice, a few stray tears lingering in the corners of her eyes, but her expression is noticeably more relaxed than it had been before. She leans against Natasha, resting her head on her shoulder and sniffling quietly. "I... thank you."

Natasha hums, resting a hand on Wanda's head. "Do you remember the dream at all?"

"I... yes... I was..." Wanda squeezes her eyes shut until her forehead wrinkles, her expression turning sour. "I was... so scared, and, and," She sniffles again. "I don't want to talk about it."

“Thats okay, you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want too. But you should try and go back to sleep baby, you need to get some more rest.” Nat sighed as she gently slid her thumb beneath Wanda’s eye, wiping away the last of her tears.

Only Wanda shook her head, the thought of going back to sleep clearly wasn’t one that appealed to her, even with the fatigue of her fever hanging over her.

“Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have another nightmare?” Natasha almost whispered the question as she ran her fingers down Wanda’s exposed arm.

Wanda nods her head in the affirmative, her lips curling away from her teeth and her jaw tightening. It's obvious she won't be willing to relax any time soon, too afraid to allow her mind to wander again.

Nat places her free hand beneath Wanda's face and gently lifts it, their eyes locking and their skin pressed against one another, “Wanda, I promise you, even if you have another nightmare, I’m going to be here for you, I’ll hold you the whole time, okay, baby? I wont let anything happen to you.”

"Okay..." Wanda whispers, swallowing as she meets Natasha's tender gaze. The soft press of their skin makes all of the lingering aches and fears seem smaller, less important than the woman right here, right now in this moment. Her lips begin to loosen into a smile. "...I love you."

Natasha smiles back and kisses the top of her forehead. "I love you too, sweetheart. Just sleep now, okay? It's gonna be alright. Nothing can hurt you when I'm right here."

Receiving a final kiss from her girlfriend, Wanda finally closed her eyes, allowing herself to slip back to sleep. Nat too kept her promise, she held her the whole time.

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson

[hirik0]

Jealosy part 3

part 1 | part 2

09Soap/Ghost

It's been 3 weeks since he and Roach are back from there stack out and Ghost is losing his fucking mind. Something in his brain had to be broken. Captain fucking MacTavish is haunting every corner of his mind. He is so desperate that he's now asking Price if there is a solo mission for him in the planning. "I'm sorry Simon, but they are still try to get analyse what littel intel you and Roach brought back." "There are surely other mission I could help out, Sir." "Is everything okey? You usually bitch about fixing other idiots mistakes if they send you to a solo mission." "I guess wasting so much time at the border for nearly nothing got me more frustrated then fixing other idiots mistakes." Ghost lies knowing that Price likely sees right throw him. "So this has nothing to do with you hiding from Soap?" No mask could cover up how Ghost is visible tensing up to the question. "No, Sir." "Simon. If this is going on I will start asking even worse questions, can't whatever is going on between you and Soap interfere with the missions." "There is nothing going on" Ghost answers remembering the times when he was in the principles office back when he was 12 after beating up a boy that bullied Tommy. The and that's the problem he keeps for himself. "I can put you on recruit shootung training with Archer if that helps." It will not help but it's better then him having to hide at the most forgotten spots on base to not see Soap. "Yes, Sir." If Archer gets to much in his face he can break his nose. Price is watching him before he holds out a folder and tells him to bring it to Soap. Ghost is cursing internally he haven't entered Soaps office since that day in the bar. "Of course." He answers before leaving. Maybe he's lucky and Soap is not in his office and he can just drop it on the desk and leave. But of course he's not lucky. Soap is sitting at his desk looking like the paper work has insulted his mother. "Ah Ghost" Soap is greating him looking less pissted. "Price wants you to have this." Ghost answers clipped giving Soap the folder. "So where your hiding all the time Lieutenant?" Ghost is bitting the inside of his cheek to not grown at the question. "Well just making sure people rember why they call me Ghost, Captain. Also can't tell you all my good hiding spots would make them less effective." "How so?" Soap ask while raising one of his eyebrows in amusement. Ghost feels himself blush under the intense stare of Soap and a train of panic fucks is echoing in his head. "Imagin the base gets compromised and I have to use them to hide form the enemies. Can't have them know if they torture the information out of you, can we?" Ghost answers smooth even if his brain is slowly fixating on the fucking desk. Maybe he can break in here in the middle of the night and set in on fire.

"Imagin the base get compromised and I have to use them to hide from the enemies. Can't have them know if they torture the information out of you, can we?" Ghost answer is setting Soaps brain on fire. What's that even suppose to mean. "What if I need to know to hide myself?" He hears Ghost bearly audible laughter. "You would not fit in them Captain " Ghost says clearly amused. Brat the thought pops up out of nowhere and what the fuck are you thinking Soap. "Is that so?" "Yes Sir." Ghost answers in a smug voice. "I think I would fit perfectly in your littel hiding spots." Soap sees the hint of a smile under the mask. "You're not flexible enough to fit in." Soap is cursing about Ghost wearing his stupid sunglasses right now, he's good at reading Ghost mods but this is total new territory and seeing at least a littel bit of his face would help a great deal. Because what the fuck is Ghost meaning with that. "I'm very flexible. I can show you if you want." Soap conters. God what the fuck it that even supposed to mean. Ghost seams to think the same because his mouth is clearly open but no noise is leaving it. "I.. I have to go. I'm helping Archer with the recruits. See you around." If Soap wasn't himself so stunned about what the fuck he just sayed he would make a comment about Ghost fleeing his office. "God, what the fuck MacTavish" He says to himself while is face is blushing in a light pink.

Soap looks through the folder Ghost gave him. The report says a a hole lot of nothing. Frustrated he put it down, he hoped it would help him not trying to analyse his interaction with Ghost. He's putting his face in his hands growning frustrated. He is sure that Ghost is hiding from him, this was there first interaction in 3 weeks and he's pretty sure he blow it. I'm very flexible. I can show you if you want. "God what that's even suppose to mean?" He ask himself. He's probably lucky that Ghsot did not punsh him for what he said. Out of the two of them Ghost is properly the one that is more flexible. No, no, no, no Soap trys to stop himself from think harder about how flexible Ghost maybe and if that would be handy in the bedroom. He puts his face on the desk, great really great MacTavish, having inappropriate thoughts about your subordinate. Ghost probably could hold some of the positions former partners of his struggled with, maybe even be able to do some of the postions he wants to try. God, just go back to your paperwork, Soap pleads with himself.

Ghost is on the way to the shooting range Soaps last sentence still echoing in his mind. Was it a offer? God damm it. His face is burning, so hot he thinks about lifting his mask for some time. He's so in thought that he runs in Price. "Ah Ghost good to see you, I just got a mission for you." "I thought I'm grounded till you analysed the shit intel?" "Just follow me." The move yo the base kennels and Ghost is not so sure why he is here. "Well I gues it's a solo mission if your the only human we are sending." Price says while opening the door to. "I need a dog for the mission?" Price just nods while a sergeant isleading them to a sertain kennel. "Lieutenant Riley meet Riley the dog", Price sounds very amused about this littel detail. Riley is a maybe 2 year old German shepard looking at the three humans from his dog bed. "What exactly is this mission Price?" "Equador looking for a hidden drug lab and well Riley here will be a great help to find it." Ghost just nods while the sergeants is opening the door. Riley slowly walks up to his new human handler smelling him with curiosity tail wagging. While Ghost is petting the dog all he can think about how perfect this is because Soap don't like dogs and now he don't have to hide anymore just saying he makes Riley fit for the mission.

[euphoric-juice]

Postin the drawing im currently working on. Part 1

Ok so im a bit of a novice artist, I've only been drawing for like 2 years. This is only the base sketch, i mainly concentrated on the hands as the are the easiest part, they aren't perfect (obviously) but it's a good start. Later I will be working mainly on Makimas body. (Tips/criticism are appreciated) (i know that the sketch is bearly visible but I have an old phone, not much I can do about it)

[serenaisavillain]

Bye-Bye Birdie

The Tipsy Bison. The bar had been the place of Joel's solace for the past week. Tommy had convinced him to stay, and re-equip before He and Ellie put themselves in harm's way again. It was nice, for a couple days... It was slower, more domestic. An actual bed, hot showers, and toilet paper. But Joel couldn't hide from his demons. He spent nights gripping at his sheets or blinking at the ceiling. His mind roaring. All he had lost. Frank and Bill... Ellie? His palm tightened around his glass. He was about four whiskey neats in and he still felt everything; every excruciating thought, every cruel fear.

Then she sauntered over.

He heard the old wooden door creak open to reveal a bearly visible face behind a thick head of locs. Joel had never seen that much hair before.

Her upper half was wrapped in a burgundy sweater that had seen better days, and her bottom half was zipped up in some dark wash denim that looked painted on.

He glanced down at his drink.

"Evening Seth, you got any more of that Sangria?" she asked in a honeyed tone. Her voice was breathy and soft. She had a southern drawl, it wasn't quite Texas, maybe Georgia?

The man nodded.

"Of course Birdie," He mumbled.

Birdie.

She hummed into her glass, delicate fingers wrapping intently around the stem.

"You're Tommy's brother, right?" She gracefully turned towards the man, her legs crossed over one another.

Joel nearly choked. He simply nodded in response.

"I've uh, seen you around but haven't had the pleasure of meeting you until now," the woman said, her dark eyes never leaving Joel's stoic face.

The man exhaled sharply. He wasn't one for small talk, but he could tell that she was.

He started filling in the blanks of who she was and what she wasn't.

She wasn't rough around the edges like him; she was... warm and soft.

Probably grew up with two parents in a big house, but not too big. No siblings, no, she was an only child, maybe a pet to keep her company.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" she laughed.

It was melodic and contagious. The man couldn't help the quirking up of his lips.

He didn't like this.

"Not one for small talk," he grumbled.

She hummed in response biting her lip.

The two sat in comfortable silence listening to the sounds of glasses clinking and counters being wiped.

When the woman was about three drinks in, she rose to her feet and sauntered over to the ancient karaoke machine, her boots clicking against the wooden floor.

"He... left no time to regret... kept his dick wet... with his same old safe bet..." she serenaded.

Her eyes fluttered close, and the music traveled down her spine.

"Me... with my head high... and my tears dry..."

Joel could tell she was three sheets to the wind when she stumbled back to her stool.

"Whoa..." he cautioned, moving to catch her.

"You must think I'm a total lush," she slurred.

The man chuckled.

"It doesn't matter what I think; I'm just a stranger, Birdie", He breathed, getting her on her feet.

The woman scoffed playfully.

"My name's Y/N. Birdie's just somethin' Seth calls me, because I sing when I'm all pie-eyed," she slurred.

"You are definitely pie-eyed..." He mumbled, realizing just how close she was and how good she smelled.

Her skin smelled of patchouli and tonka bean, her hair smelled of vanilla and shea.

"You alright there, Joel?" she asked with a smirk.

The man hummed in response.

"Sorry, you smell nice," the man cringed when he heard the words tumble from his lips.

Those whiskey neats had done him in.

"Sorry..." he grumbled.

Birdie felt her face get hot and her pie eyes open wider.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Joel's eyes shifted to the dart board behind her.

"Oh, don't get all shy on me now," Birdie practically purred.

Joel's eyes darted to the floor, his mouth opening slightly.

Birdie only smiled and sent a wink over to Seth.

"See you around Miller."

[softsweetsuffering]

A deep and well practiced laugh quietly echoed over the roof tops in the still night air. The hero was crumpled at his feet, bearly propped up by the roof top entrance bricks. Their chest heaving as they struggled breathing through brusied ribs.

They raised their head, eyes still shining with that ever bright defiance, despite the clouds of fear creeping on the edges. They were powerless, at risk. Yet they dared open their mouth.

"H-how, did you?"

"Work it out?" The villain stole the words from thom. A grin splitting across his face. His smile one of the only few features visible.

He swayed slightly, giddy at the state of things. Basking in all the time they had now that pesky punches weren't being thrown. Practically sauntering over to grab the hero's chin, making them fidget and try to grab his hand off their face.

"Did you already forget why you came to fight me tonight?" He purred.

The eyes before him widened in sudden rememberance and they chuckled lowly.

"You know it really wasn't hard to get the words out of the poor thing.." As he monologued he let the hero's chin go, shoving slightly as he walked behind the very thing the hero was resting against.

With a pained groan the side kick was dragged from where he had been hidden, and slumped before the hero on their knees.

"He was screaming for you. I'm only shocked he didn't say your true name.. I suppose he was loyal to some degree."

The sidekick was barely able to remain upright, tears twinkling in the small amount of city light. Their breaths coming out choked and tight. Hero wasn't sure if it was a trick of the wind or if a quiet mantra of apology and guilt was rolling off their lips.

For a moment the hero's masked expression dropped. A mingle of horror and guilt twisting their features and their stomach.

The villan stepped over, fingers lacing in the sidekicks hair with a touch almost sickeningly sweet. Causing the sidekick to shudder as his head was tilted up.

"Pity really. He would've made a far better henchmen."

The hero didn't know what was going to occur next, but that didn't stop them from pouncing forward with a cry.

"No!"

The body hit the floor like a brick. The only thing the hero could hear was their own heartbeat and the villans ugly laugh. A blade dropping to the floor as they walked towards the roofs ledge. The sidekick making a quiet whimper as they shuddered against the cold floor. Hands helplessly trying to protect their throat.

The hero was torn. The chase, or the sidekick, and in the last moment found themselves cradding their partner to their chest.

The sidekicks voice was so soft and broken. Apologies tumbling from their lips as they choked on each word and breath.

Heros hand swept gently over their forehead, brushing hair from their face. Shaking their head loosely.

"It wasn't your fault,"

They tried to apply pressure to the gash, seeping blood was pooling on the sidekicks chest, and coating the hero's hand. The sidekick wincing as they did. A sinking feeling growing between them. The gash too big. The bleed to much.

"You did so well."

Was all they could think to say as they clutched the fragile body closer. Unable to help, unable to heal. Their powers rendered useless in that moment. In a time of need. Tears burning to be shed but they dared not. Not now.

"You were the best. The best a hero could have."

They watched as they small light in their sidekicks eyes briefly spark. That fresh, young feeling hope, kindled just one last time. The hero smiled just for them. A sad, but loving warmth across their face.

"I-i- di-d?"

"The best sidekick. The best."

The sidekicks eyes were shimmering, the colour draining from their features. Another ugly splutter passing their lips and then suddenly their body was silent.

--

Limp in the hero's arms. They pulled them ever closer. Uncaring of how drenched in blood and tears and sweat they were.

They came to late.

Acted too little.

A hole was opening in the heart, in their chest. A pain unlike any punch or kick. Something else inside felt fractured and it wasn't their ribs.

They slowly lowered the sidekicks body, and took a wavering breath as they stared at the ledge. For a moment they thought they could hold it all in. Hold it together. Just they thought they should.

Instead of an anguished cry, despite their wants to let one out. Nothing but silent, broken tears fell upon the abandoned rooftop. Then just before the sun dared to even begin it's rising. A broken, limping hero carried themselves off the awful scene.

A final goodbye whispered in an tierd breath.

Sidekick had deserved better.

They should've been better.

The weight and burden of loss hanging heavy on their consciousness.

[k00299471]

Reflection on using latex with knots made from thread and wool.

I found once the material and latex had dried I could easily put it from the plastic sheet.

The latex stuck to the other latex, making it difficult to pull apart.

The combined material was very flexible and I felt I would try another material that might dry more solid.

I wanted the knots to stand a bit more up right and feel I might try another material to achieve thid

On process this. I decided I wanted to use the negative space around the knots ,

I wanted the knots to show but I also wanted the negative space to show separately.

I fell if I could achieve this ,it might show move of a feeling of movement in a spin type way.

The knots and the latex did show, but I felt it was too flexible for how I wanted to show negative space.

I love creating a new material or sculpture from combined materials.

I now name the above piece...

Rubber Knots.

( maybe I'll patent it )

Next I sourced a washing machine drum

I played around with knots i made earlier and wondered how I might be able to express movement with knots and spins.

Bu putting the knots into the drum tied with chicken wire i could maluipate them in the space within the drum.

I wanted to exaggerate a negative space .

I decided to use expanding foam.

I want to control the expand foam and the shape it make so I can manipulate the shape around the knots

I used plastic bags, that I'm hoping will pull away once the foam dries

The expanding foam didn't work.

I think the gas had gone from the tin.

I'll source more and try again

After a buying a second tin, I realised that this was the way the foam came out for the tin, slowly and very sticky and almost liquid. I continued with my plan of making form from the foam.

This proved difficult and slow as I realised I had to think of another way to make my shapes to put into the drum.

I source some scraps of cardboard that were in cylinder shapes , I tore these to make the shapes. The irregular ripped cardboard will help to make my shape more organic, which I will place in between the knots and the wire. I feel the contrast between the wire ( being harsh and geometric) foam being soft and organic and the knots being a close curve in space, will show a new sculpture of movement originating from the spin of washing machine. I feel the different types of material express the flow of swish,mechanical and spin showing movement.

The expanding foam with the knots didn't have the desired effect I was hoping for.

I thought it would explain to a larger size and the knots would be bearly visible .I did this as I thought the expanding foam might give the feeling of movement in the drum as it happens it looked unconnected from the knots and the concept.