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lesbianoms · 1 year ago

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Fantasizing about going out on a date with an older woman who seems pure and vanilla on the surface. We end up talking about personal stuff and somehow end up on the subject of kinks.

After a while I reluctantly reveal to her that I’m into vore, and after telling her what it is her eyes widen in surprise and she just says, “oh.”

We say goodbye to each other and I go home, agonizing over the date and her mannerisms and overthinking literally everything like the gay little disaster I am.

And then I get a text. From her. And it’s a video.

I open it up and she’s standing in her bedroom, grinning warmly. She explains, “I thought about what you told me, and I wanted to do something special for you.”

She picks up a container and there’s a tiny inside, a man, who looks 0% frightened and 110% pissed off. My jaw probably drops at this point.

“Don’t ask how, but I managed to get my ex-husband shrunk down to a more… bite-sized helping.”

He looks about 4-6 inches tall, like he fits perfectly on her palm. She picks him up by the collar of his shirt, licking her lips. Her ex starts thrashing and shouting at her to let him go, put him down, how she’s a psycho and he’s glad he divorced her, etc.

She completely ignores his protests and his shouts of anger and just smiles into the camera.

“This one’s for you, sweetie~”

She lowers him towards her mouth.

“You crazy bitch! Let me go! I swear to God I’ll-”

Slurp. Her lips close around him before he can finish. I hear a loud gulp on camera and she tilts her head up as she slowly, seductively traces his shape down her throat.

Then she lifts up her shirt revealing her bare tummy. She hums softly, posing with her arms above her head, and the video is in such high quality that I’m able to see the exact moment he lands in her stomach.

She lets out a small burp, chuckling as she pats her belly. Pulling the camera close, she says in a milky purr, “Wanna listen?”

Immediately she presses her phone up to the center of her belly, and I hear the loud roar of her stomach fill my headphones. Between all the glorps and gurgles of her sexy stomach, I can hear the muffled sounds of her ex-husband’s voice. He’s cursing her, screaming at her and demanding to be let out.

“Bet you wish that was you, huh?” she asks. Her mature voice goes even lower as she teases me.

The video focuses on the close-up of her belly for a few minutes. She’s moving it every now and then so that it slowly sloshes up and down, like a belly dancer. I can hear the digestive groans of her ex inside, being felt up and squeezed by her walls. The sounds both relax me and turn me on, and being able to watch him squirm inside of her is really something else ❤️

“Come with me.”

She takes the camera with her as she walks down to the kitchen, where she opens up the fridge and takes out a bottle of wine. She places the camera on the kitchen counter, angling it so that the view is just under her belly.

I can see the writhing form of her prey as he gets churned around by her stomach walls. She uncorks the wine, pours herself a glass, lifts it up towards the camera in a toast.

“Cheers,” she says slyly, and she begins downing the glass.

I can hear the wine filling her up and entering her tummy, sloshing around inside as the wiggling lump of her ex-husband cries out. He disappears from view for a second until she pushes out her stomach, and I hear the bubbling of brewing wine mixed with the occasional groans of a liquid-filled gut. I can only imagine him sloshing around in there with the wine…

“Oh, I’m gonna feel that in the morning-”*uurrp!!*

She walks back to the bedroom, pressing the phone to her belly so that I can hear each slosh of its contents as she ascends the staircase.

“You know, I can feel that bastard struggling in there... I think he's trying to give me indigestion. Like he hasn’t already given me enough bellyaching when we were married! ... I'm sure you'd be much better behaved~"

Hearing back into the bedroom, she lays on the bed. She points the phone down at her tummy and pats it. The noises from inside are clear as day on the video.

About a minute or so of rubbing her active belly, she pulls down her jeans and tugs on the band of her underwear so that more of her lower belly is visible.

“Wanna see something cool?” she asks.

She puts the camera down with her other hand and feels around for her ex-husband, pressing down on a slightly bulging spot on her tummy.

“There he is,” she mumbles.

Then, she takes the front of her fingers and massages deep into her belly, kneading, pressing into her gut with an audible glorp.

I watch as she pushes the shape along her skin, towards her pelvis, and with a rush I realize what she’s doing. A particularly loud gurgle sounds out from her middle as she guides him down into her lower belly. I hear his muffled moaning as he shifts through her.

“Oohhh, I think he’s in my intestines now~” she says seductively.

I can see the wiggling form below her belly button, and I imagine what it must be like for him in there. So tight, and hot, and wet, and slippery… I wonder how much he’s filling out her bowels as he moves around inside…

She hums in delight and traces circles around him. His struggles pick up the pace as he seemingly tries to fight his way out of his ex-wife’s body. She squirms in pleasure, twirling the elastic band of her underwear and rubbing her lower belly with her other.

Eventually her body tires him out, and when his movements begin to slow, she pulls the elastic out and snaps it back so that it covers the bulge he makes completely. Covered by both flesh and cloth now, her belly bulge of an ex-husband whimpers faintly. His fate is sealed; her stomach gives a satisfied grumble.

Lifting the camera, she says, “Did you enjoy your surprise, honey? Ah, I hope you did. I can’t wait to see you again… and I’d love to feel you inside me. I’m still new to this whole thing, maybe you could give me some pointers. And I’m sure your cute little body would fill me riiight up~”

She looks down at her abdomen and frowns, huffs out a sigh, and finishes with, “Gotta go now, my hubby isn’t- *hic* quite agreeing with me…”

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defilerwyrm · 1 year ago

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I'm a trans man who wants phallo SO bad but the Fear Mongering people do makes me so scared. I have such a fear of surgery anyway and people say phallo is nearly 23hrs long, and it has more risks than heart surgery does, and idk if these are true bc I'm too scared to google it..But I want it so bad, but the stuff I hear scares me. Also people saying it doesn't have any sensation worries me. You said trans men can ask about it so I hope this is ok to do on anon!!! I'd appreciate a non fear filled reply so much thanks!!

23 hours!! Those poor surgeons, can you imagine!

Virtual hugs if you’re the hugging type, Anon, and a cool rock if you’re not.

Those things are definitely not true, not remotely. It’s a long surgery, but when I say it’s long that means it’s about 8 hours all told. It sounds like maybe someone heard it referred to as an “all-day” thing meaning a full WORK day, but instead assumed that that meant a full CALENDAR day. Or, you know, a transphobe made shit up to scare people.

It is most definitely not nearly as risky to your wellbeing as a surgery in which they saw open your sternum and cut open your actual beating heart. There is a fairly high chance of a minor complication that can result in the terrible ordeal of getting pee on your pants sometimes—a urethral fistula—and in most cases, they close up on their own anyway without needing another surgery to correct them. And in this case, “fairly high” means 40%, so it’s still less than half a chance that it’ll happen in the first place. At worst it’s annoying. Serious complications, the type that put you in danger, are extremely rare.

The sensation thing is also false, because they literally harvest a length of nerve from your donor site and hook it up to your existing bits specifically so you WILL have sensation! Sure, it takes a little while for the nerve to heal, but that’s just the reality of ANY surgery.

The nerve grows back in your donor site, too, by the way. While I was typing this up I discovered that one particular spot on my graft is ticklish.

Everyone has their own individual healing factor, but speaking for myself, I had full erotic sensation before the 3-month mark, and the orgasms have been incredible. The head and base are highly sensitive, and everything in between responds pretty damn nicely too, just less of a hit-the-ceiling level of sensitivity. And, you know, if you’ve handled an AMAB person’s penis much at all you’ll know that’s pretty much in keeping with how their dicks work too.

It is an in-patient surgery so if you have it, you’ll be staying in a hospital for a few days so they can keep an eye out for rare disasters. My stay was four or five days of snoring most of the day and periodically getting woken up to eat or answer some simple check-in questions, lift my arm for nurses to move stuff, etc, and then conking back out.

Being cathed sucks, but two weeks of frequent trips to the toilet to drain your bag is honestly nothing compared to a lifetime without (or with vastly reduced) bottom dysphoria. That’s the part that I hated. Everything else was your typical recovery: 10-15 days of sleeping 20 hours a day, then however many weeks of being tired, taking meds, and careful washing, gradually feeling more and more normal until you’re back up to full and ready to get back to business as usual.

Except with this one, you get to learn to pee standing up in the process. :D

(Protip: don’t try a public urinal until you’ve got it down pat at home. Not because of cis men, but because the learning process is messy, lol! The overwhelming majority of cis men in public restrooms want nothing to do with anyone else while they’re in there. The only place anyone’s gonna give your dick more than half a second’s accidental glance is in a gay bar. In 8+ years of using public men’s rooms I have yet to see one (1) penis that wasn’t mine!)

#phalloplasty #ftm #trans men #bottom surgery #trans matters #transphobia.#queerdom #medical transition #replies to things

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toptierteaser · 1 year ago

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The Fitness App

Chapter One: Coach Hermes

“Dude, I swear by it! Six months! That’s all it took to whip me into shape! Two years of Pandemic fat gone like that! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”

Diego’s words rang in Dylan’s memory as he stared down at the little earpiece in his hand. It looked like a little white snake, curled up in his softened palm. This was his last opportunity to back out, to put the thing back in the box and return it to the software store. He could get back in shape on his own, couldn’t he? if he just committed to going to the gym four times a week, documenting his workouts, journaling his food habits…

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. A husk of the former man he used to be. Or rather, it looked more like the hottie-with-a-body from the past had been stuffed into a suit made of dough, which had only expanded over the course of the last three years. His face still retained his former “adorableness,” as the ladies and gays at the office put it. He still had the good looks as the fat had hardly affected his face.

But the rest of his body…it was an entirely different story. Just the sight of himself, standing alone in his room, was enough to make him blush. Everything had filled out. Exposed in his underwear, he looked first at the thighs which pressed up against each other like rising bread. His love handles that now jutted up over his waistband. The tight briefs he had not bothered to replace were covered in the front by the gut that had just begun to descend—a major factor in his deciding to try out this new technology—covering the front of his crotch and the fabric was beginning to rip on the sides because of the size of his ass. His butt had always been big for a guy’s, but now it was absolutely ‘ridiculous,’ as his friend, Cody, had teased, grabbing one of his juicy cheeks and giving it a jiggle. And of course, his tits had grown ripe, bouncy, his arms thickened not by muscle, but by fat, and his neck was slowly starting to plump up as well, teasing just the hint of a double chin.

He knew no amount of working out, writing down his exercises, keeping track of his calories would get him any closer to the fit jock he was over three years ago. It was a tried and failed recipe for disaster that had only resulted in him ballooning even fatter every time. Of course, during the pandemic, he had simply sat on his ass like everyone else and stuffed his face until he couldn’t fit another bite…but what was his excuse for the last two years?

At the beginning of the pandemic, there was no risk of being asked to go back into the office. Who knew how long that would last? And so, Dylan had kept on growing, kept on eating. But after a few years of remote work, the company had finally started to crack down on working-from-home, requiring a slightly-to-surprisingly chubbier office to return.

On the dreaded day, Dylan, after a morning of wrestling himself into the loosest chino’s he could find and wriggling into the only button-down that would button over his tubby gut, had waddled himself back into the building. He was shocked, stunned, and dismayed to find that out of all the dozens of employees, he had put on the most weight in his time larding out at home. And his coworkers were equally-stunned to see his new status. No one, upon smiling at him and greeting his return, could seem to keep their eyes from falling to size up his sized-up belly. And a few even made comments; his rival, Luke, who only looked fitter, more muscular, going so far as to poke his tummy.

It was already a miserable day. One which resulted in Dylan trying his best to drown out the associated feelings by glutting out on the snacks he had brought back to stock his desk. But to make matters worse, as he stood there, a granola bar dangling out of his mouth, restacking the papers on his desk, he watched as Diego, suited with brand new pants, a shirt, and shiny new shoes, came strutting into the office, looking at least fifty pounds thinner than the last time Dylan had seen him.

Diego had already been a thick-bodied man. Chubby, even. He had been so even a year before the pandemic, when both he and Dylan had started. The desk job had caused him to fill out quite quickly and by the time everyone was sent home to work, his obtuse ass cheeks could barely even fit into his pants. It was, perhaps, a lucky break for Diego that he could now work from home, as Dylan could see the seams on his buttocks starting to become unraveled as his doughy coworker waddled out the door.

But the pandemic went on, and so Diego’s weight went up. Dylan could see the changes during the zoom meetings, as his flawless brown skin was stretched tighter over the young man’s plumping face. Once, even, Diego had to stand to plug his computer back in and Dylan could see his lower half, clad only in a t-shirt and the tightest sweats Dylan could imagine his office friend wearing, his gut jiggling as it “bwomped” out from beneath his shirt, smacking against the keyboard on the desk.

That’s why it was a surprise when, two years later, Diego came strutting into the office, looking thinner than when he had started. Luke had elbowed his way to the front of the cluster who had walked up to congratulate him, feeling Diego’s muscles, running a hand over his stomach to check for abs through the fabric. The whole sight made Dylan want to puke. Instead, he stuffed a muffin into his face and glowered until they were called into the conference room.

It was a tighter fit than Dylan could remember, as he wedged his widened ass between the armrests of the chair. By accident, he was right beside his friend, Cora, and Diego. They had always been on good terms, but Dylan could hardly stand to look at him.

“What’s wrong, man?” Diego had asked.

Dylan didn’t hesitate. “How the fuck did you lose all that?” he spat. It came out far more volatile than he intended.

Diego looked slightly dejected, throwing up his hands. “Just wanted to take care of myself, man.”

Dylan softened his tone. “Sorry…it’s just. You, of all people…”

Diego laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I said that you were part of the inspiration? That I wanted to look like you did…you know…before.” He laughed, elbowing Dylan in the chubby side. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.

Diego glanced around. Everyone was busy chatting and celebrating each others’ return. He lowered his voice. “There’s an app…and a device. It’s called the ‘Encour Rager!’” Dylan gave him a look. “Cheesy, I know. But hey!” He looked down at his own body.

“What does it do?” asked Dylan.

“It’s an A.I. trainer. It encourages you to work on your goals.” Diego chuckled. “And man is it brutal! But it’s effective. Which, clearly you might want to consider,” he glanced at Dylan’s stomach. Dylan squirmed.

“I might give it a try,” he said absently. Of course, he didn’t know how he felt about A.I., but like everyone, he used it almost daily in some way or another. But he had already tried so many apps; calorie trackers, workout calculators. None of it had helped.

Diego leaned in closer. “Listen, dude. It’s not like anything else you’ve tried. It’s a commitment. I don’t recommend it lightly. But once you buy it and put it in, it stays in there. You don’t take it out again for a year! I mean, it’s as close to permanent as you can get!”

All that flashed through Dylan’s mind now as he looked at himself. A tubby version of the hottie he so badly wanted to be again.

A small chirping sound went off from the device in his hand. He looked down to see it glowing blue. It was fully-charged. Now was the moment of truth. He could back out now, if he wanted to. He gave his thickened body one last glance in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the pile of clothes he had set aside because he no longer fit into them.

He clicked the button on the side of the earpiece, raised it, and inserted it into his ear.

A pleasant tune filled his brain. And then, a voice. “Hello, Dylan.” It was deeper than he had imagined. Masculine. He envisioned an attractive, muscular jock. “I’m your Coach. You can call me Coach if you like, or by my name, Coach Hermes.” ‘Hermes,’ the god of games and sports.

“Hello,’’ said Dylan awkwardly.

“Hello, Coach,” corrected the device.

“Hello, Coach,” said Dylan, smiling.

“Much better!” said the device. “Now, you are aware of my function, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dylan. “Coach Hermes,” he added, grinning.

“Very good. Just to recap, I will act as your personal fitness trainer for the next twelve months, during which time, we are going to whip your body into the shape you most desire! My function is to optimize your fitness level to suit your needs and to best-satiate your personal self-image. During our first week together, we’ll be getting to know one another quite well, and I will be observing and commenting on your lifestyle; your eating habits, your exercise routine, things like sleep schedule, how much television you consume. Does that all make sense to you, Dylan?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan. He was growing placid, as if the voice was lulling him into a trance.

“Excellent, Dylan. Now, as I will be observing, I will also be curating a program which I believe will best-benefit your body…money-back guaranteed, of course. The watch that accompanies my earpiece will allow me to monitor your heart rate, your breathing, and your responses to my words. The contact lens will allow me to see the world through your eyes and will give me a customized projection which is designed to motivate you towards your fitness goals. Please go ahead and place the watch on your wrist at this time.”

Dylan did as he was told, strapping the watch onto his chubby wrist. “My, that’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” said Coach Hermes.

“Uh, a bit…” mumbled Dylan.

“I am reading that your pulse has been elevated. Might I suggest you do some deep breathing to calm your nerves. There is no need to be anxious. None of this is permanent until you give me the final say-so.” Dylan took some deep breaths.

“Now,” said Hermes. “Please place the contact in your eye…so I can get a good look at you.”

Again, Dylan obeyed, dropping the contact in front of the mirror, and blinking as he adjusted it into place. It was the smoothest contact he had ever worn. He could barely tell it was there!

“Very good!” said the Coach. “Oh…what a handsome dude.” Dylan was looking at his own face.

“Thanks, Coach!” said Dylan, half-forgetting he was talking to a robot.

“You’re welcome, Dylan,” said the robot. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind standing back a bit, so I can see you. You did remember to wear the minimum amount of clothing so I can see your full person, did you not?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan to both question and request.

“VERY good! I can tell we’re going to whip you into shape faster than you could ever have thought imaginable! Now, please step back.”

Dylan stepped back, still put off by the quivering of his stomach as he did so. Still disturbed by the increased rubbing of his thighs.

“Oh!” said Hermes in a shocked voice. “Oh, my! You have lost control, haven’t you…big boy?”

Dylan blushed. Why he would do so in front of a robot was beyond him. But it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“No matter,” said Coach Hermes. “We can work with this. Can’t we, thiccums?”

“Uh…yes…?” stammered Dylan, questioningly. ‘thiccums?’

“Yes…?” said Hermes.

“Yes, Coach.”

“That’s better, fatty.”

Dylan nearly fell over. Diego had warned him the words of the A.I. could be harsh. But it would all worth it, when he came strutting into the office in a new suit…right?

“Well, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you, chubbs, there’s only one thing left to do. Your wristwatch will take your thumbprint as your signature.” As the app said this, Dylan felt the watch buzz, illuminating on the screen. “If you are prepared to commit for the next year, please go ahead and place your thumbprint on the screen at this time.”

Dylan hesitated. Could he really handle being called things like ‘chubbs’ and ‘fatty until this time next year?

“Or, you may decline the offer and return the app. Your one-day trial is cost-free so long as the device is returned to the nearest software provider without damage.” The voice dropped to a whisper in Dylan’s ear. “But, do you really want to look like this for the rest of your life, porker? You know that you won’t be able to do this without me, right, fatboy? You know you need my guidance. That’s what I’m here for. To help you. I’m nothing like those other apps, where you can lie to them about eating a salad before you go binge on a carton of ice cream. I’m the real deal. I see everything. I feel everything. Like how out of breath you are, just standing there. Like how I can tell by your pulse that you’re embarrassed. But you don’t want to be embarrassed for the rest of your chubby life, do you? Go on, biggums…sign the contract.”

Dylan looked down at his watch again. He raised his thumb over the screen, letting it hover.

“Sign. It,” hissed the app.

He couldn’t do it alone.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. And then he pressed his thumbprint down and held it against the screen.

“Very good, fatboy,” said the A.I. in his ear. “Now, we can begin our training!”

#bhm weight gain #weight gain story #a.i.#fatboy #fatass #teaser #chubby #feedee encouragement #gaining weight #fat bhm #fat belly #stuffed fatty #fatty #fat boy #exercise #weight gain humiliation

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origamiplushie · 8 months ago

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Do yourself a favour and read pretty much any fic written by starsdontsleep

Starsdontsleep has 45 amazing steddie fics on AO3. All of their fics are sweet or at least bittersweet and clearly written with a lot of love for their characters and care for the character's feelings. A lot of their fics have managed to distill queer pining down to its core essence. They are filled with pining, feelings realization, accidental confessions and sometimes even unrequited crushes staying unrequited.

I really do think reading through all of their works is worth it, but if you want to hear my favourites, here's a few recommendations to get you started:

one day I'll fall for you

Steve knows that Eddie is in love with him, he's known for a while. But falling in love back? That takes a little more time.

This really is so well written! I think it is a very realistic examination of relationships. Sometimes you're aware your friend has a crush on you and you both just ignore it and go on with your friendship without anyone ever saying anything. I could relate to both Steve and Eddie. But don't worry! This fic does not end in heartache ;D

Cooking With Love

After the Upside Down, Steve realises Eddie is terrible at eating regular meals, so Steve starts to cook for him. But somewhere along the way, Steve also falls for his friend too.

If you're a sucker for happily ever after endings this one is for you! Mutual pining and Steve taking care of Eddie!

Welcome To Our Club

Eddie invites Robin to a gay club in Indy, but as much as she wants to go, she's also terrified by the prospect. Wanting to be there for his best friend, Steve agrees to go with them. But being in a gay club ends up revealing some unexpected things about Eddie, and about himself.

This fic has everything you could want! Steve being a bisexual disaster, Eddie being jealous, fake relationships, and Steve slowly realizing that maybe he doesn't want it to be so fake.

do us a favour

Eddie helps Steve out of a problem and when Steve says he owes him and to name anything and he'll do it, Eddie's mouth works before his brain, letting him ask a very queer question of his straight friend and crush.

Sleepiness makes Eddie be a little to honest when Steve offers to pay him back for helping out with the party for a day. Eddie would be happy with just that favour , but Steve thinks a conversation is in order.

i can be pretty (why don’t you think I’m pretty?)

When Eddie comes out as gay, he assures Steve that he doesn’t find him hot. Steve tells him it’s fine, he even teasingly asks what he should do to change that. It becomes a thing. A way to always make Eddie laugh, blush and relax around him—but as the days and weeks pass, Steve begins to realise that maybe there’s another reason why he cares so much that Eddie Munson finds him pretty.

Starsdontsleep's newest fic! Eddie comes out and reassures Steve that he's not into him. Steve just thinks he want Eddie to be comfortable around him but soon realizes that maybe he wants Eddie to be a bit more than just comfortable. So he sets up a plan to woo Eddie who is very confused by what is happening!

so easy to like you

As much as Eddie tries to talk himself out of his crush on Steve, to convince himself there's nothing between them… there's just no getting around how much he likes him--or how easy it can be to make a mistake.

To be honest, I find an unrequited love fic where nothing comes of that crush very refreshing. Sometimes things just don't work out and it is no one's fault. Bittesweet but lovely!

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fic rec #stranger things #fic rec #but seriously read all 45

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the83rdgenius · 4 months ago

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rhine x oc!august | minors dni

warnings: oc x canon, selfship lore, august goes by she/her as does rhine, toxic relationship, rhine has a short temper, hurt/comfort (i say comfort very lightly), angst, wrote this in tumblr drafts yeehaw.

a/n: they are gay alchemists your honor. i was gonna delete this whole thing but i decided to sleep it off and look at it tomorrow (today) and i'm glad i did because after reworking some things i genuinely enjoy this <3 anyway yeah a sneak peek into august and rhine's relationship hehe. not tagging anyone bc nervous foaisjdoiajsd

“Well.. that was uh..” August stared at the mess the two of them had created, coughing and waving away the black smoke enveloping them.

“A disaster.” Rhine replied bluntly, peeling off her gloves as she walked away. “Clean this shit up.”

“Uhm, Rhine, I was uh well, I was wondering..” August trailed off, fidgeting with her fingers and staring nervously at Rhinedottir.

Rhine groaned and spun around to glare at her. “Spit. It. Out.” She grew tired of her games.

August laughed nervously and cleared her throat. "Although, the experiment fell flat.. horribly.. dreadfully so.."

Rhinedottir snapped at her. "To the point, August!"

"Okay, well, what I'm trying to say is. Even though, everything was an absolute failure we are now closer to the truth and that's gotta count for something.. right?" August smiled, bearing her teeth in a nervous fashion.

Rhine turned around and walked towards a desk littered with various research notes and rummaged through the weathered paper. "No."

August frowned. This was not the answer she wanted, but it is the one she should've anticipated.

"I will not sit here and celebrate failure." Rhine opened up a large book filled with various of bookmarks. "Now, come here and help me."

August walked slowly over towards Rhine, anxious yet determined to turn the situation around. She wrapped her arms around her from behind and nuzzled her head against the back of Rhine’s neck. August knew all too well how much stress Rhinedottir was under. Or rather, how much pressure Rhine had put on herself. She needed some reprieve from all those late nights she spent working tirelessly.

“Rhine..” August’s voice was soothing yet teetering on the edge of a scolding. “How about you take a break with me. We could do something together?” She suggested, but Rhinedottir wanted absolutely none of that.

She let out a heavy sigh. “No, we have work to do.”

Still, August refused to back off. She begun to massage Rhine’s shoulders and hum something softly. Rhine growled and crumpled up a piece of paper she had clenched in her hand. Regardless, of how much she tried August could not seem to get her to relax. It was almost impossible.

“Will you get off of me?!” Rhinedottir shouted. “You’re pissing me off.”

August felt a part of her crawl back to life that she thought had long since died. Her ears flattened back as she let out a quiet whine. She only wanted to help, she hadn’t meant to..

Rhine sighed and pushed herself out of her chair. If there was one thing she despised more than failure it was August's incessant need to make everything worse than it already was. While August had retreated to cowering in a nearby corner of the wall, avoiding any and all eye contact with her supposed lover, Rhinedottir was more preoccupied with creating an open spot on the nearby couch for the two of them.

"Come here." She spoke calmly, trying her best to hide her frustration.

August shook her head. Still, trying her hardest to hide the tears that had betrayed her by falling down her face. She bit the inside of her cheek and stared down at the floor to avoid making eye contact with Rhinedottir. Foolish girl. She should've never forgotten how cruel the woman she loved truly was. How could she forget that a wolf would always take the chance to cage its fangs around a fawn's throat. August knew better than to trust someone like Rhine. Unfortunately, it was all she'd ever known, it was second nature to her. So, why wouldn't she trust Rhine? Why wouldn't she look into the eyes of the devil and smile.

Rhine spread her legs slightly and patted her thigh to signal August to approach her. "I said come here."

August sniffled and walked slowly towards Rhinedottir. For as impatient and selfish as Rhinedottir was she had an unusually high tolerance for the messes August created.

Eventually, August slowly walked towards Rhine and cautiously climbed onto her lap, hiding her face into Rhine's warm chest. It was surprising how feeling Rhine's heat and listening in on the steady thumping of her heartbeat did more for August's well being than anything had in quite a long time.

Her fingers curled around the fabric of Rhine's shirt. "S-Sorry.. for being s-so stupid.." She confessed shamefully.

Rhinedottir placed a comforting hand on the back of August's head and hummed a familiar song. August was well accustomed to this. Rhinedottir would lash out, feel the tiniest bit of regret upon seeing August pout, then she would give in and reassure August all was well even if it wasn't true. Especially if it wasn't true.

Neither of them said a word. For August it is because she is content, thawing herself out of her shell made of ice, but Rhinedottir is simply silent to enjoy one of the rare moments where August isn't agonizing over her or something she'd done wrong. Although, perhaps she could admit that the warmth resting underneath her palm was comforting.

#petal.selfship #selfship: rhinegust

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eddiestightywhities · 5 months ago

Text

CRACK (TO THE HEAD) WITH A CAPITAL 'C'

(AKA The Written at 4am Buddie Crack-ish Fic Starring: Thirsty Song Lyrics, National Treasure Christopher Diaz, and Way Too Many Feels For Its Own Damn Good)

It's Friday morning, two minutes to zero-ten hundred-hours, according to Eddie's Timex Indiglo watch which is never even a half-second out, when he unlocks the door to Buck's place to drop Christopher off for his overnight stay—Chris refuses to call them sleepovers anymore because age thirteen is apparently The Number of The Beast—before Eddie will have to bail pretty sharpish to kick-off his twenty-four shift that begins at eleven.

On entering the apartment, they're met by the sound of raucous, upbeat music.

Eddie scans the loft for his friend and has to do a seriously comical double take when he catches sight of Buck, who has one hand spread palm-down on his the couch cushions, and the other behind his back as he performs shirtless one-armed wonder press-ups (with perfect fucking form, as always) to the punky beat of The Offspring's Pretty Fly For A White Guy that's currently blasting from Buck's bluetooth speaker—riiiiiight as the Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha! part of the song hits and the whole scene has Eddie's brain record-scratching and stopping him dead in his army issue steelies.

Dead, fucking dead, ¡Santa María, salva mi alma!

His jaw instantly drops through the floor and into the apartment below without his permission as if there are lead weights attached to his teeth, his mouth now fully hanging open and catching all the damn flies in a completely horrifying display of blatant, lust-filled shock.

Buck is breathtaking at the best of times, but right here, right now, he is heart-stoppingly unfuckingreal.

READ MORE BELOW OR HERE ON AO3

Eddie's bestie (best friend-shaped, Eddie! Eddie thinks, Buck is best friend-shaped!) is carelessly grunting like some sort of sex-machine that's been built to Eddie's exact specifications, and each grunt is louder than the last with each new, hard push upwards of Buck's swollen-thick torso, glistening sweat beading on his—well, on his absolutely fucking everything, Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, and Eddie's washing machine brain is at once stuck on an eternal spin-cycle and may well break down any second now and have him collapsing like a shabby old rag doll dressed in Eddie's Henley and Eddie's ripped jeans and falling to his now-violently shaking knees if he doesn't grab the fuck onto something, STAT.

He's about to shamefully steady himself with a hand to his son's shoulder when Christopher starts yipping like a madman then joining in with the song lyrics by positively shouting out the chorus.

“Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha!” he screams in a deliberate and absurd soprano, and Eddie's mind is screaming in Shut-Down, having first upgraded to an aneurysm, or at least a stroke, and he has to slap a hand over his kid's mouth, pronto, because he doesn't know what the fuck else he possibly could do at this point in the fantasy-laiden world that is currently unfolding before his probably now bloodshot eyes; nothing else he can think of to stop himself from ending up in a drooling heap that will become known as The Reduction Formally Known As Eddie Diaz's Gay Panic when he melts onto Evan Buckley's kitchen linoleum at possibly one minute to ten on a Friday afternoon in June in the year of our Lord 2024.

Eddie just barely manages to squeak out a truly pathetic, “Nope! Nuh-huh! No!” before that particular Cartoon Network-esque slapstick disaster becomes an unfathomable and inescapable reality.

Christopher obviously protests his outrage with a muffled but still impressively indignant, “Daaaad! I'm thirteen YEARS old, not thirteen MONTHS old!” just as Buck spots them both and smiles his big, adorable smile, immediately abandoning his exercises to turn the music off (oh, thank the Heavens!) and jumping up to stride over towards Christopher and Eddie to meet them where they're standing around like kitchen gremlins by the central island in Buck's kitchenette.

Sopping wet, wide-spread sweat patches are darkening the majority of Buck's once-light grey jersey short-shorts (holy crap, they are short and are leaving nothing to the imagination), those unfairly long legs of his slick and shimmering with dewy-fresh perspiration, just like the rest of his devastatingly gorgeous half-naked body, and Eddie wouldn't be joking if he regaled this moment to somebody at a later date (as if he ever would) by telling them that his entire life flashed before his eyes—because it absolutely balls to the wall no fucking shit just did.

He blinks approximately seven-hundred and thirty-three times in the less-than-four seconds it takes for Buck to reach them.

Christopher is flailing under Eddie's death-grip like a traumatised kidnap victim, while Eddie is continuing to freak the fuck out in Narnia like the crazed Closet Case that he is.

Edmundo Diaz—First Responder; Lapsed Roman Catholic—finds himself praying for a natural disaster, or an act of God, or, or, or, just... Something! Anything!

¡Por favor, Dios, por favor!

Resolute to the fact he has absolutely one-hundred percent secured his place in the very lowest circle of Hell, Eddie plasters a surely maniacal pearly-white grin onto his stupid and definitely reddening face, and says, “Howdy!” far too loudly in his thickest Texan accent for some unknown fucking reason—which is far, far louder and far, far thicker than any he ever sported while actually growing up in Texas—because he's clearly gone bat-shit fucking insane. Then he's breaking out into even more of a full-body sweat than Buck who has been working out for what is probably around the half-hour mark or more, by this point, because Sweaty Adonis Buckaroo is now right fucking there right in fucking front of Eddie so fucking close almost close enough to reach out and touch—

Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!

And isn't this just aces?

Eddie thinks, Fuck fucking push-ups, fuck The Fucking Offspring, and fuck fucking Eddie's fucking life so fucking hard, godfuckingdammit.

Eddie is so Bucked.

Buck's smile is turning inquisitive (and somehow even more adorable) at Eddie's clear display of Buck-induced brain damage, before his baby-blues are twinkling with something... Mischievous? Cunning?

And then he's answering Eddie's dumb as shit greeting with, “Aloha, cowboy,” his brows snaking up his forehead, tongue lolling out of his mouth to rest on that sinfully pouty-pink bottom lip in a way that is the complete fucking opposite of innocent, leaving Eddie wondering if it's possible to die twice in the space of—well, ever.

(He knows all too well that it is, but he's been Bucked, remember, so how about giving his brain a break, hmm? THANK YOU SO MUCH).

Then Eddie wonders: Is this the ghost of Buck 1.0 that's come to say:

Hi, babygirl, I'm here to Buck you up good, real good, so you better hold on real tight because you're goin' downtown faster than a whore's panties, you slutty little—*GUNSHOTS*

About to possibly kick the bucket for the third time in as many minutes, Eddie realises he doesn't really know what Hawaii could possibly have to do with the Wild West (Aloha Cowboy?) but that he honestly couldn't give any amount of fucks, flying or otherwise, because unless his head has been cruelly hoodwinked with a massive serving of Wishful Thinking, he is also realising that...

That...

Buck is seriously flirting with him right now?!

He ponders briefly over how hard he actually hit his head when he'd banged it into the doorframe of his truck, maybe five minutes earlier when grabbing Christopher's crutches from the backseat just after they'd arrived.

Eddie then notices Christopher's teenage Smirky McSmirkerson features in his periphery (Chris had managed to prize Eddie's numb hand from his face a moment ago) and also the way his son's own head is snapping between his now fully-loco father and his Buck, and Eddie thinks of tennis matches, and flying pigs, and how stiflingly hot it seems to have become in the loft in the last thirty or so seconds.

Then Buck is licking at those lovely lips of his, turning to Christopher and saying, “What do you say we go out on a breakfast date on Sunday morning, after your Dad has slept a bunch, huh Christopher?”

Only, when he says the word 'date', Eddie doesn't think he's imagining the way Buck's eyes flicker pointedly in Eddie's exact direction.

“Because I'm off the whole weekend,” he continues, “so the three of us could drive the jeep out of town and I could buy you both giant syrupy waffles with maple bacon and Horchata milkshakes from Fosselman's and then... And then we can go visit the the Greek Theatre, and then maybe Griffith Observatory later on in the evening, when the stars come out, and we'll hold hands,”—again, his eyes bore longingly into Eddie's for a split-second that feels like a lived lifetime—“all three of us, like we used to when you were tiny, Chris, you remember that? And it'll be the best day that we've ever, ever had together, I absolutely know it.”

Buck is looking at Eddie again, only Buck isn't looking away this time and Eddie is almost positive that his eyes are screaming: Yes, Eds! Yes, I want you, too, man! So let's do this!

“Ew, no way,” Christopher instantaneously complains—before he's quickly backtracking and amending his statement with, “To the hand-holding, I mean. The rest sounds pretty good, though, Buck. What do you think, Dad?” and he even manages to sound marginally appreciative at the tail end—appreciative for a sharp, snarky teenager, that is.

Christopher then fully turns to Eddie (Eddie who's body is now sans soul) and says, “Can we really have waffles and milkshakes for breakfast Dad? Can we? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't be a major Joy Assassin and say 'It's not a proper meal if there's no vitamins involved, Mijo', because it'll be a Sunday, and it sounds so awesome, like the rest of the day does, too, actually. And you love Buck, Dad, so maybe just you and him can be sappy Sallys and hold hands and be all gross together, and I'll secretly snap your picture when you're mooning at Buck with heart-eyes, like you always do, and Buck will give you heart-eyes back, like he always does, too, except this time you can both do it while you're actually looking at each other, and then I'll send the photo to Aunt Maddie and Uncle Chim who can maybe finally convince you two to move in together and get married like I've been trying to get them to for years, now!”

Eddie doesn't know where the hell the kid got the breath from for all those truths.

Because that's what that was; Eddie's truth, all of it.

But was it really Buck's truth, too?

Like they're rehearsing in a play based on their lives, Buck, on cue, lets out a really happy-sounding gasp that quickly morphs into a happy-sounding laugh, and Eddie bottle-rockets right out of the fucking apartment and off into the fucking stratosphere.

He is very much back in the room, though, when Christopher takes his hand to gracelessly slam-join it with Buck's, which is calloused like his own due to the life-saving work they proudly tackle together day-to-day—always together, every day they can be, always, partners in everything they do—and Buck's hand is big, and warm, too, and all kinds of wonderful, and then Eddie is not only thinking about all the skin and the hot and the sweaty and the gorgeous, but also about how Buck has saved Eddie's life, so many times, now, and saved him in so many different ways from practically the first week he and Chris spent in LA after leaving El Paso, has saved him in every way possible, actually, every which way under the sun and the moon and the stars, even the ones they can't see from Griffith Observatory. And even though Buck has just murdered Eddie twice already this morning in the silly-short space of time he and Christopher have been here, with his push-up grunts and sexy-swagger and his 'Aloha, Cowboy' (whatever the fuck that even means) and, most of all, above everything else, Buck's Over Nine-Thousand level of Adorability, Buck's boundless generosity and kindness, Buck's inherently thoughtful nature, and Buck's twelve-sizes-too-big heart, he is saving Eddie again with the way he's letting Eddie Eddie love, love, love him.

And the fact that he is taking care of Eddie's son today, tonight, is absolutely everything to Eddie. Buck is Christopher's Buck, Christopher's hero, and he's Eddie's hero, as well, and Eddie wants to claim him as Eddie's Buck, too, because Buck thinks Christopher is awesome and always genuinely looks forward to looking after him, to loving him all of the time, just like Eddie loves Chris, and like Eddie loves Buck because Buck cares about Christopher just as much as Eddie does, and Eddie knows—he knows without a shadow of a doubt—that Buck's love for the boy they're raising together is a type of love that no other person, bar Shannon, has had for him, for them, before or ever will again.

There is nobody else like Buck in the universe.

Nobody cares or loves like Evan Buckley, or more than Evan Buckley, and being on the receiving end of that love is worth more than solid gold, or oxygen, or even spicy pepperoni pizza and a cold one after pulling a gruelling shift as a Firefighter on the never-sleeping streets of Los Angeles, CA.

And then just like that, Eddie is able to put a timely yet abrupt stop to any and all of his panic (gay or otherwise) because there isn't a shred of anxiety left inside of him, now, not about this, at least, because he knows he's got nothing whatsoever to be scared of with Buck.

So addressing his son (their son, really) Eddie nods his head emphatically and tells his boy, “Yeah, Chris, that does sound awesome; Waffles and milkshakes and all of it,” and then squeezes the hand in his, Buck's hand, and leans over Buck's kitchen counter and says easily, “I love you, Buck—I mean, I'd love to, Buck! Shit—”

“Swearbox!” Christopher chides smugly.

Eddie pulls a face at his slip-up and at his son, then clears his throat and continues a little sheepishly with, “But, um,” before looking up to remind himself of that adoring that look Buck is giving him, and then saying more decisively,“ But yeah, that other thing, too, actually, because yeah, yes, you know I love you, Buck... At least, I hope you know it,” and then he huffs a little laugh as he adamantly says, “I love you, Evan Buckley,” and thinks 'In for a penny' and strains his neck to reach across and kiss Buck shyly on the cheek.

Only his aim is a little off and he ends up planting a kinda sloppy one right on the corner of Buck's slightly parted lips, but it turns out he's glad about it and is even sort of proud that he misjudged the angle and got to feel Buck's unabashed smile against his own upturned lips, because he's wanted to do that ever since he first laid eyes on the man standing in front of him who is radiating the sun's rays out of his very core, as if he actually owns them and the sun only has them on a loner for sunny days.

Buck is smiling like he's just won the World Series—which is funny because Eddie has just won the Being Gay With a Capital 'G' award, and that means they are both Imaginary Winning Title holders, now.

Except no, fuck that, because Eddie's win isn't imaginary at all, it is very much a beautiful and viscerally Real win, actually.

Real with a capital R, muchas gracias.

Apparently, all Buck has to say about all of this right now is, “Okay, alright, you get your fine ass to work now, Eddie Spaghetti, and Christopher and I will see you on the flipside for sleep and cuddles and, and, and a Real with a capital R adventure on Sunday,” and Eddie is looking at the universe sideways for the first time in the entirety of his non-believing life. “Oh and by the way, honey—and I am so calling you honey from now on, also by the way, just so you know—I absolutely one-hundred percent, honey,” he pauses for second and and winces a bit, “Christopher I will also be adding to the Swearbox for this one... Love the shit outta you too, Edmundo Diaz.”

Christopher just claps and laughs and laughs and claps and then shouts, “My two Dads love each other, universe, did you hear that?!”

Somehow managing to smile even bigger than he was a moment ago, Buck then lightly grabs the now half wolf-whistling, half dry-retching thirteen-year-old matchmaking genius who goes by Christopher Diaz, in a loose headlock and starts scrubbing gentle knuckles through his curls, before literally kicking the happiest man on the whole damn planet out of his apartment with a ridiculously big and adorably bare foot.

“Go! You'll be late! We'll see you tomorrow, honey.”

Eddie (said happiest man on the whole damn planet) waits until Buck's door has closed behind him and then till the elevator door has slid open and shut again before fist-pumping the air like the dorky First Place In The Game of Life winner that he is, smiling what is likely his biggest smile since his darling Christopher came into this world.

Then he pulls out his tongue at nobody at all and thinks, Fuck you, first place is first place; dork or not.

As he leaves Buck's building, he also thinks, I'll have to crack my head on random shit more often, joking with himself and chuckling like a prize idiot as he crosses the side road towards his truck.

Then he's immediately cursing himself out with every swear words he knows, in both English and Spanish, for somehow allowing himself to be pulled into Buck's nonsensical woo-woo Cosmic Universe bullshit.

Vida, vida, vida.

Although...

Maybe—just maybe—he could forgive the slip, just this one time, just this once, when he recognises his chuckle as the being the very same, gloriously happy-sounding laughter that Eddie had unbelievably managed to pull from the chest of the best man he's ever known (who also happens to be the hottest man in the whole frickin universe; cosmic or otherwise).

It's the man Eddie has loved for years who—apparently, amazingly—loves Eddie right back.

Evan 'Buck' Buckley.

Christopher's Buck. Eddie's Buck.

And when he's climbing into his truck and inexplicably clocks his head on the doorframe again, for the second time today (seriously, what the actual fuck is going on here?), Eddie looks around suspiciously and surreptitiously before taking a minute to peer hesitantly up at the sky-blue sky and its cotton-candy clouds and the hot, hot sun with its borrowed rays, out into the universe, or to God, or who—or what—ever is or isn't out there, before finding himself about to mutter a few choice incredulous words from under his breath.

He takes a gulp of air, and says, “Yeah, okay, muchas gracias, oh cosmic powers that be, yada yada et cetera et cetera, if you do in fact exist, not that I really think you do,” whispering the statement and feeling like a first class clown, “But, just in case?” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and soldiers on. “Just in case, here it is: Yes, I obviously wholeheartedly appreciate whatever it was you might or might not have done for me back there, like, I really, honestly, seriously, do, but just—will you just please do me a solid and...” Eddie can't believe he's thinking this, let alone saying (albeit whispering) it for realsies, “...don't let Buck or Christopher or Hen or Karen or Chim or Maddie or Bobby or Athena or Ravi or, hell, any other fucker on the planet know that I actually said any of this phooey out loud, alright? Not ever. Or Santa Mierda, I will seriously come for you like a rabid Nordic Goat Herder on a mixture of bath salts and crack cocaine and crazy because I would never, ever be able to live this shit down if it got out. ¿Entiendes?”

Completely fucking done with that, Eddie starts up the engine and pulls out of his parking space outside of Buck's building, while annoyingly hoping that the universe understands at least a smidgen of Spanish, and begins the first day of the rest of his life, mumble-humming a not entirely unenthusiastic tune...

“Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha!”

(this had barely one skim-over edit so please be kind!)

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windsweptinred · 11 months ago

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10 Characters/10 Fandoms /10 Tags

Thank you for the tag @two-hands-toward-the-sun, this took me on a deep delve of my fandom past! Time to roll out my gaggle of glorious bastards again...

1. Ken Ichijouji - Digimon 02

Babies first blorbo. Puppy kicking, whip weilding antagonist who giveth not a shiteth. With a soul as black as his gloriously groomed locks. Who, by the power of love is transformed into the soggiest little puddle of twink you ever did see. Tragic backstory ✔️ A smorgasbord of issues ✔️ A realtionship with their rival/best friend so obbsessive, you're going to have a harder time proving this ship isn't a thing than it is. ✔️ Ken Ichijouji came with everything a young, naive millennial needed to make their first glorious steps into the world of fandom.

2. Ryou Bakura/Yami Bakura/Theif King Bakura - (Same body, they count as one!) Yu-Gi-Oh

Ryou Bakura - Adorable British cupcake with the soul of a traumatised lovecraftian cultist. Staring into the abyss while having afternoon tea. Gothic horror in a cream knit.

Yami Bakura - Actual murder floof, the walking personification of a horror podcast. In his wake trails body gore, supernatural mystery and gay subtext. Part demon, part Egyptian theif, 100% bringing sexy back. (bonus points: Florence)

Thief King Bakura - Traumatic back story maketh homicidal rogue. Wears red, has a social circle made up of ghosts and snake monsters... Is this not prime husband material?

3. Starscream - Transformers

Darling little duplicitous second in command of the Decepticons. Not just any 'Little Shit', THE 'Little Shit'. Simulatiously the dumbest and cleverest bot in any room. And that, my friends, takes a particular breed of talent. Negative traits, scheming, petty, fabulous. Postive traits, scheming, petty, fabulous. Repetitive attempts to off Megatron, play of either the power or fore variety. Not sure which, could be both.

4. Darth Maul/ General Armitage Hux- Star Wars

I will not and cannot choose a favourite between them. Instead, watch with wonder and awe as I neatly compress them into the same blurb...

Sad meow meow with self-worth issues does galactic war crimes to prove 'daddy' wrong. What do you mean my fixation with thwarting my archnemeis can't be classed as a hobby/career goal/life ambition? My voice can launch a thousand ships... Different circumstances, same truth. Such a pathetic little sausage, you'll want to sit them down and feed them soup. But they know atleast 101 ways to kill you with the spoon... So best not risk it.

5. Crowley - Supernatural

The diabolical king of cunt serving. Me and my athletic calves are doing this right thing for all wrong reasons...And you can't prove other wise! Alignment: Risk it for a biscuit. Four step program to deal with all life's problems: 1: flirt at it, 2: shout at it, 3: throw (please pick your chosen Winchester or, if pushed, tailor) at it. 4:... Yell bollocks and follow with a whiskey chaser.

6. Desire/Destiny of the Endless - The Sandman

Again, not picking. Desire, my darling little hell kitten. Destiny, my inglorious bastard in brown...

This is my world, you MFs all just live in it!

My emotions... Which I do not have, are the route cause of everyone else's problems.

Ah humanity, the dust bunnies upon which I sneeze.

Even in a glorified bathrobe, I'm still better then you, and you know it.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Dream of the Endless is a f*cking dumb ass.

7. Remy Lebeau (Gambit) - Xmen, Marvel Comics

Marvel looked at their collection of motley mutant misfits. And realised they had a morally dubious, disaster bi shaped hole to fill... And there Remy Lebeau has been for for 30 slutty, slutty years and counting. Sex in fushia pink spandex. Single handily keeping thievery in Americas top 50 kinks. Slowly exhausting the world's supply of playing cards... Must be considered a traitor to the cause atleast once a decade to keep his street cred. Must be considered a secret Summers brother atleast once a decade to keep his ego in check.

8. Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) - Batman (DC)

Scythe wielding, reigning and defending Trick or treat world champion since 1941. The physical attributes of a Giacometti sculpture with the rustic aesthetic of the folk horror genre. Grumpy old man syndrome dialed up to eleven. Pets: Craw the crow, Nightmare the raven... Edward Nygma. Built a life manifesto based on a gothic novel... Oh captain, my captain.

9. Alfie Solomons - Peaky Blinders

All hail the great arisen god of Margate. Who looked upon Tommy Shelby and called him smol. Weilds tomfuckery like a pepper spray straight up the jacksie. Views betrayal as a bonding exercise. Somewhere in his words are the the meaning of life. Still awaiting the lab results as to whether this man is the anthropomorphic personification of chaotic neutral. Not even part of the egg and spoon race. Will still manage to win with a watermelon and a novelty spork.

10. Elias Bouchard - The Magnus Archives

(art by @felix-krain and @caligosatchel)

Cluedo character brought to life by malevolent eldritch entity for sexy end of the world shinnanigans. I suspect either Proffesor Plum or Reverend Green, professional opinions vary. Maintains the inability to move more than one square at a time when enacting nefarious schemes. Still has a preference for homicide by kitchenware. Comes with all the British, arch dilf energy of an Agatha Cristie villain. Taking the horrors from the hands of privileged elite and unleashing them on unsuspecting white collar workers. Eye, chin and tits first.

Whelp, that's my ten fictional characters/fandoms. Men folk (and Desire) addition. When I say I like them on the morally grey dulux colour chart. I'm not exaggerating. 😅

I'm tagging, at your pleasure @mashumaru @aisalynn @bobbole @tickldpnk8 @writing-for-life @marvagon @missingrache @rriavian @jazzy-a and @ibrithir-was-here

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rainnybear · 1 year ago

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ROTTMNT HEADCANON TIME!!

——————————————————

Leonardo

He/Him

Gay MLM

Heterochromia (Left eye blue, right eye red)

Fawn Stress Response

AUDHD

PTSD

Leo gets understimulated and overstimulated (Donnie carries noise cancelling headphones for him and Mikey shares his fidget toys)

Inferiority complex

Swiftie

Rants in Spanish when overwhelmed

Speaks spanish when overtired or sick

Insomnia

When Leo can’t sleep and wants company, he goes to Donnie’s lab and watches him work

Constantly feels like an annoyance

Takes sleeping meds

Fear of abandonment

Reads ao3 when can’t sleep

Medic of the team, hyperfixated on biology when he was little and it didn’t go away

An absolute baby when sick

MLP fan

Has nightmares and flashbacks about the Krang fright and tries to pretend he doesn’t

Donatello

He/Him

AroAce

Heterochromia (Right eye blue, left eye red [opposite from Leo’s])

Freeze Stress Response

Lots of scars from working on his tech

Gets overstimulated

Blasts music in his lab at 3am

Speech therapy when he was little

Weighted Blanket

Goes nonverbal

Sound sensitivity

Black nail polish

Michelangelo

He/They/It

Panromantic Asexual

Blue Eyes

Flight Stress Response (I don’t think that’s even a hc)

Makes stickers and patches

Can’t tie his mask correctly so it always looks messy, used to always fall off before he got used to tying it

He gets understimulated

He has a backpack filled with EVERYTHING (More things fit in it than they should and it confuses the hell out of the others)

Sound Sensitivity, whenever it’s too loud, he gets more quiet and sad and holds onto one of his brothers, he gets overwhelmed and touching people around him helps but it feels worse if too many people are touching anything other than his hands

Gender unlabelled

Raphael

He/She

Pansexual

Bigender

Dark Brown Eyes

Fight Stress Response

Anxiety

Autophobia (Fear of being alone)

Loves to play dress up

Claustrophobia

Splinter

He/Him

He can’t tell the turtles apart without their masks and that’s why he gave them masks in the first place

April

She/Her

Lesbian

Loves Minecraft and Animal Crossing

Cassandra

Nonbinary

She/They

Lesbian

Casey JR

Knows Spanish because of Leo

Knows medical stuff because of Leo

PTSD

He/They

Has nightmares about the future

Loves garlic bread

Disaster Twins

They help eachother when overstimulated

They clash together sometimes because understimulation + overstimulation does not mix

Donnie likes to act like he doesn’t care about Leo but he’d be an absolute mess without him

Donnie is Leo’s favourite sibling

When Leo can’t sleep and wants company, he goes to Donnie’s lab and watches him work

Sometimes Leo falls asleep on him and he’ll complain about it in the morning but he lets Leo sleep because he knows he isn’t getting enough and he’s just glad he’s finally sleeping

PB & J

They clash together sometimes because understimulation + overstimulation doesn’t mix very well

Donnie carries fidget toys for Mikey (Mikey doesn’t wear his bag during battle which is where all his fidget toys are)

Mikey is Donnie’s favourite sibling

Donnie and Mikey talk about their hyperfixations/special interest(s) together

Portal Duo

They were Pokémon kids and played Pokémon together, they shared a card collection and sometimes argued over the cards, they are now under Leo’s bed, they still play every once in awhile

#rottmnt #rottmntleo #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt april #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt headcanons #tmnt headcanons

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cartcop · 2 years ago

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so casual-911-watcher roomie has gone full tilt buddie in the last 12 hours since I filled her in on all the promos. Some insightful comments from her after watching 3 episodes and being filled in on some past storylines (with as little bias from me as possible):

"So they're lowkey raising a kid together but they don't live together? It gives divorced parents" after I told her about the will. I proceeded to tell her about the grocery store fight and she lost her goddamn mind

"He sounds gay to me. Like they wouldn't have to work that hard to make anyone believe he's gay" after I told her about Hot Dad #1 (Eddie)'s romantic history

"wait I'm sorry he dumped her because other Hot Dad TOLD HIM TO???" about Ana

"if they get married, there needs to be a thunderstorm at the wedding. I don't make the rules. There can be a cool disaster sequence and then everything is sorted out by the time they say 'I do'" about the buddie wedding she is now convinced we will get

"how long do you think they'll draw out the slowburn? I say they have another 2, 3 seasons at least" again she has seen 3 episodes

"I think Hot Dad #2 should relapse into his slutty ways after he realizes he's gay at the end of this season. What a good cliff hanger, if the audience knows they're in love with each other but slutty dad freaks out and downloads grindr instead of talking about his feelings"

"oooo I hope the kid tells the one who's in a coma that his dad risked his life to save him. He'd get sooooo mad" she's right! he would! How she has such a solid grasp on their characters is a mystery to me

Also she doesn't know any of their names.

#roomie watches 911 #911 fox #911 spec #buddie

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serialadoptersbracket · 9 months ago

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Round 2, Match 17: Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla vs. Gumpa

Submitted kids:

Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla: Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Zeb Orrelios, Chopper

Gumpa: Sean, Yok, Gram, Black, White

Propaganda under the cut!

Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla:

“The parents ever. Healthiest family dynamics in the galaxy. Families that kill fascists together stay together. Kanan managed to keep an extremely traumatized child on the light side of the force, Hera kept a volatile Mandalorian from blowing herself up (and Chopper from murdering everyone). So good at adopting, they taught Ezra to adopt uncles with increasingly homicidal tendencies. So good at adopting, they successfully competed with the aforementioned crime uncles and kept Ezra. So good at adopting, they managed to adopt a grown ass man 10 years older than them.”

Gumpa:

“a man in his mid-late 30's who owns a motorbike mechanic shop and also happens to be mentor to a gang of angry queer university students who are all his sons. law student with a need for revenge after his dad was used by a rich man and killed by cops? that's his son now. gay art student with a tiny bit too much love for fire and a protective anger about how his disabled mother is treated? also his son. this one is angry about how laws are manipulated to serve only specific people while harming others? cool bring him in too. this one is just filled with rage at the entire world (but also specifically his parents) and wants to fight everything and everyone? cool adopt him too. one of your boys has a secret twin brother who showed up one day pretending to be the other to find out who put him in a coma and get revenge and is slowly realizing that the world does not function the way he thought it did? well i mean he already adopted his brother so he might as well take him in too plus i mean somebody has to teach this kid to fight before he gets himself killed. 4/5 of his sons are bisexual and the 5th is gay and theyre all disasters and he loves them.”

#star wars #star wars rebels #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #not me the series #not me #not me gumpa #gumpa #serial adopters bracket #round 2 #tumblr tournament #tumblr polls

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seth-burroughs · 11 months ago

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Martina is a bi lesbian in the sense that while she only likes women sexually, she can be romantically attracted to pretty much anybody who considers her a person. Yomi is a bi gay in the sense that he generally only likes men but could still build a meaningful disaster-filled relationship with a woman if she's insane enough for him. Kurumi is a bi lesbian in the sense that while she primarily kisses girls she 100% could and will date a guy if he also happens to be a girl it doesn't matter how often or to what degree. Fubuki is a pan lesbian in the sense that whenever she sat down and thought about whether the label 'pan' or 'lesbian' applies to her more she'll go down some wacky rabbit hole in her mind until she slowly starts to question the very structure of everything that surrounds us and so she has refrained from further thinking about it ever for her own wellbeing, and also because she thinks the flag is pretty and she has came to love arguing with strangers on the internet over whether she deserves to feel safe in queer spaces. Any questions

#mine #rain code #martina electro #yomi hellsmile #kurumi wendy #fubuki clockford

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margridarnauds · 8 months ago

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writers truth or dare: 🎱🕯️🔪🎨

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats

User Subscriptions: 27

Kudos: 2,587

Comment Threads: 279

Bookmarks: 597

Subscriptions: 410

Word Count: 348,060

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

6, probably. It isn't my favorite bit, because it's harder to tell when IT'S done VS when the overall plot is done, it's much harder to constantly reread what you've written and go "did I do what I set out to do?" I think that with my last thing, I spent more time editing than writing; there was one part that required the whole scene to be rewritten about three times. And it's never fun to have a part that you really liked and then have to cut (there was one line in my most recent one that KILLED me to cut -- it's safe in another document so I can use it down the line, but still). On the plus side, it's also where I get to fill out parts, add things to suit the mood, build atmosphere when I feel like I need to do that.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

...oh. God. WEIRD, hm. I guess that depends on how you define "weird" -- for some people, authentic Old Irish is weird, but for me, that's just bringing my job into my fanfic. But I suppose for things that are far away from what I would usually do...

For anything set in the Toho RetJ world, I actually did look at pictures of, say, Chernobyl now, to give myself a template for how the world would look like. I looked up different predictions for how the world would look after a certain number of years, including weather patterns, natural disasters, etc., looked at videos like "Life After People" from the History Channel (which is...the History Channel, but gave me some inspiration), looked up photos of crumbling apartment buildings and how they look and the kind of natural decay that settles in, while also hunting down articles on the Shakespeare so that that could inform some of my characterizations.

Likewise, for my Terra Nova fanfic, I often found myself looking up fossils from the Cretaceous period, both plant and animal, trying to integrate them into the world of Terra Nova, looking through pictures of the sets so I could try to do some worldbuilding for how the world of the show works.

For my BG3 things, I have, like, 4-5 lore books on my computer, and I've looked up everything from, say, how to kill Lolth to drider transformation to Drow foods in the Underdark to Drow burial rites to coming of age rituals to necromancy to whether Devils in the world of DND eat mortals (...undecided) to Cambion biology (answer: they'd have to be able to decide on what a Cambion IS first) to what body temperature a Drow VS an Elf would have. I've looked up the ingredients to various potions for the sake of Kitrye's alchemy, common traits among albinos IRL VS the Szarkai in DND for Malla (Malla's eyesight is too good, but it's essential to her character, so sure), and real-world contracts and the language involved to write Raphael's deals. For a non-DND player, I've had to dive as deeply into the lore as possible (and often, esp. with regards to the Drow, going "that's stupid, I'm doing something better".)

For weirdest research OVERALL, definitely probably walking up and down a ~16th-17th century fortress so I could get a feel for how the Bastille might have felt.

...actual 18th century smut and how gay men in the 18th century usually conceived of sex. Opera schedules from the 18th-19th centuries, so that, when an opera's mentioned, it's usually something that was either playing at the time or plausible.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

God, I've gotten to see a lot of really good fanart, and, especially, now that I'm doing BG3 things, I am really routinely being spoiled. I'm going to give a list, just because I think that there are worse things to spill a lot of ink on than giving people their proper due.

First of all, propping my friends, @hotelfgirl did a piece of Kitrye that lives rent free in my head. She has that specific sad girlfailure vibe that I love to see.

@drewsaturday did some Morléans fanart for my birthday that also lives eternally rent-free in my head; it really captured part of the appeal of the ship (besides the tragic ending), which is the level of trust involved, the intimacy of it.

For Irish Myth stuff, even if it's always slightly awkward to call it "fanart" in the same way that, say, BG3 things are fanart or things for my musicals are fanart, anything by @amylouioc, absolutely wonderful interpretations of medieval Irish figures by a modern Irish artist, my favorite is probably Nuada over here. I love the lighting, I love the color scheme, I love the detailing around the arm, especially the little blue tatoos...and, admittedly, I also love that Nuada's a KILF (King I'd Like To--terrorize the Fomoiri with) because I am, at the end of the day, a simple woman. (You all thought it was going to be Bres, didn't you?)

@aodhan-art - WONDERFUL pieces from medieval Irish lit; the first piece of his I was aware of was this one which...well. He knows the context, but it was a very memorable part of a very memorable trip for me. There's this real...sassiness Áed in particular has that I love, this real sense of personality. I also have to talk about this; it isn't often that we get Bres/Sreng fanart (or anything about Bres at ALL), so I love seeing him memed; I'm glad someone put up the money to do the commission and I'm even more glad he did it, it's perfect for both of them. Lest anyone think I'm forgetting Bres' better half, though, I love the work done on Bríg here; I love all the little detailing, all the textures, the little freckles on her skin, the clothing ITSELF looking like something from medieval Ireland.

Speaking of which, @violetcancerian's drawing of Bres and Sreng here, like. Look at them. It's Christmas. They're happy.

For BG3 fanart...

@lemmeurs Raphael fanart here is great; I love anything that captures the duality of Raphael's character, I love the use of lighting and shadow in it, the single strand of hair hanging over his face in both the Cambion and Human forms, the sharp edges of his cheekbones, the overall color scheme. Legitimately have not stopped thinking about it for days.

@shahs1221 ANYTHING by her is great, I really love this one here. For obvious professional reasons, I can't engage with any Professor/Student Raphael content on here (nothing personal, but if I don't engage with it, I have nothing to hide if anyone decides to link my fandom life to my academic life...which has happened before, regrettably), BUT her Professor Raphael art, both this and the follow-up, live rent-free in my brain (I will also note, if any colleagues, mentors, undergrads, potential peer reviewers, etc. should FIND this, they will note that it is based on a wonderful fic series where Raphael is dating someone who is NOT a student). LOVE the cozy academia vibe, especially the one in the follow-up where he's sleeping in a nice, incredibly comfortable looking sweater. (The real question in life: Do I want Raphael in this art or do I want to BE Raphael in this art?) Also...the baby cow eyes paired with sharp cheekbones are in full effect, causing me to briefly have my IQ drop into the single digits.

@adarlingmess WONDERFUL Raphael content in general, but I think I lean towards Dadbod!Raphael in the bath . I love it for the...plot? ("The plot" in this case being "Those cheekbones + a soft stomach"). I love the atmosphere, the kind of haze created by a combination of the steam + candles, Raphael looking relaxed for once in his immortal life, the way the candlelight plays on his face, the railing in the background (...not...that kind of railing...the railing from the game. The metal railing that is in the game.) Overall, it just really captures the feeling of that area of the Boudoir very well, it brings in a lot of small details, AND Raphael looks very good.

@potatocrisp Absolutely LOVE the dynamic that their Tav has with Raphael, the kind of push/pull dynamic on both ends, the way the two of them are both compromised for one another but are extremely stubborn about it (favorite Tavphael dynamic, ngl), the way that her Tav very clearly has the upper hand over this immortal, ancient being. I love her character design, I love the detailing on his doublet, especially the little shine of metal at his wrists, the little lace edging at her stockings.

@infernaldaydreams Hahaha, BG3 fanart that is NOT Raphael. I love everything I've seen of hers, but this one is probably my favorite, not the least because it was the first one I saw. I love how bittersweet it is, I love the tenderness, the focus on hands, the way that Gortash's face gets overshadowed and then lightens up for her, I just...God, these two rotten people have me in a chokehold, I love them. (But also, in the nicest possible way, fuck you for making me feel THINGS, knowing how Durgetash ends in canon.)

#long post #thank you!

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mulitfandomshipper100 · 8 months ago

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Author Notes: I decided to split this episode up into more than one chapter.

Chapter 3

A Helpful Hand (part 1)

“Naomi!” Elena shouted with a bright smile. We have an emergency Grand Council meeting. The jaquins found buried treasure!” When Naomi turned towards Elena her dad could see that all of her attention was now focused on Elena. Naomi looked fondly towards her, after all they had gone on some pretty wild adventures recently. Like saving the village from the exploding mountain volcano. Flashing back she could recall how she didn’t want to vote against Elena, but was pressured to by Esteban. The thing she remembers the most however was how later she got to work with Elena to fix the disaster.

When they arrived at the site the rest of the grand council had already arrived. “Professor Mendoza is working on the site right now” Esteban stated. As if hearing her name Professor Mendoza leapt out of the pit. “It's an ancient Maruvian chamber, the likes of which I've never seen” she said her voice filled with excitement. “Really? That is so cool.” Naomi’s face lit up

“It is not cool if you're trying to get to the Via Mercado. This is a busy street. I recommend we remove anything valuable and repair the road immediately.” Esteban noted, annoyed. “Do you expect us to stop everything and dig up an old ruin in the middle of the city?”

Professor Mendoza argued with Esteban about history they could discover in this ruin. Naomi finally had enough do their bickering and voiced her opinion. “If we can discover something new about our past, it's worth the traffic jam.”

“Miss Turner, you are hardly qualified to decide such matters.” Esteban turned towards her. “She's on the Grand Council just like you.” Elena’s grandfather stated.

“But she's not just like me, or the rest of us.

You are not a royal.

You know nothing about governing a kingdom.

You have no degrees, no accomplishments….

Until Elena put you on the council, you were merely a girl from the port.” Esteban stated cruelly.

Elena’s face shifted angrily to hurt after hearing Esteban say that to Naomi. Less than a second later she was beside Naomi with her hand on her shoulder in support.

“Esteban! Naomi is perfectly qualified to be on the council. Offended that Esteban attacked her best friend.

In fact, not only are we going to explore the ruin, but I'm putting Naomi in charge of the dig.” Elena said proudly. Wrapping her arm around Naomi’s right shoulder, after pointing at Esteban.

Naomi was shocked, when Elena said that. She had felt embarrassed when Esteban pointed out how different she was from everyone else. Her heart beat soared to new heights, when Elena came to her defense. She smiled smugly at Esteban as she felt Elena’s eyes meet hers. Having Elena’s arm around her shoulder gave her confidence and reminded her that, even if no one else believed; she knew Elena believed in her.

Later in the carriage ride back, Naomi started to doubt herself again. Elena could see this, but she wasn’t sure how to build Naomi’s confidence. She noticed that the girl was more confident with Elena around though. “Don't worry about Esteban. Elena said trying to cheer Naomi up. I'll come to the dig, too, if it'll make you feel better. Elena pit her hand on Naomi knee and tried to look her in the eyes. What is it?” She moved to sit next to Naomi, putting her hand on her right shoulder in support. Naomi noticed recently that she and Elena were usually in close proximity or physically touching in some way. It was probably due to the fact that they almost died quite a few times, since they met.

“All that stuff Esteban said about me not belonging on the Grand Council... what if he's right?” Naomi said insecurely. She didn’t voice it, but she was also think about the fact that everyone else on the council was straight, it wasn’t a bad thing, but it did make her feel more isolated. She had hoped that Elena was gay, but…. One day she saw Gabe flirted with her and Naomi ran away before she could see Elena’s reaction. Even if Elena wasn’t straight, there was NO WAY she would ever have feelings for Naomi. Naomi was just a regular citizen, and Elena was THE crowned princess. Plus, she didn’t even have a crush on Elena. Naomi tried to convince herself. Little did she know, that she would find out soon that her feeling for Elena were far more than platonic.

Author Notes: To be continued….

#elenaomi #elena of avalor #elena x naomi

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jess-le-mess · 1 month ago

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Feedist Kinktober - Day 27

(Prompts: Boozy Belly 🍺 / Dragon's Hoard 🐉)

[Content notes: Fat FtM main character; Thin nonbinary love interest; M/Nb attraction dynamics; belly play; mild intoxication]

Game Night

Flynn loved his tabletop gaming group dearly. He'd met the core members when he was still in Engineering school, and not a single one of them at the time had said anything bad or weird about his transition. Now, four years later, and a few of them were out too as various things. A couple of the guys, Kyle and Oliver, had come out as gay, and Dana had come out as a woman.

And then there was Duane, bless him, who was cis and straight and often forgot that Flynn was trans and called him "big bro" despite the fact that, although Flynn did have a few inches and at least a hundred pounds on him, Duane was like forty or something.

Tonight Dana was hosting. She and her wife lived in a manse, which she enjoyed telling new group members every time and assuring them that she "thoroughly witchified it" with a smirk.

She greeted Flynn wearing a cute little sundress that accentuated her petite figure, and gestured for him to head to the dining room-slash-gaming table.

"Vivian made miniature pop tarts for tonight, Flynn. Do you like miniature pop tarts?"

Flynn shrugged. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a miniature pop tart.

"Good man," she said, patting him on the back. "They're cherry filled."

As they headed into the dining room, Flynn spotted a new face. The new person had short dark hair combed off to the side, wearing a red flannel and a black tank top. They looked to be in their mid-20s.

"That's Eli," Dana said. "They were on the Pride planning committee with me this summer."

Eli offers a wave. "Hey."

Flynn takes the empty seat next to Eli. "I'm Flynn."

"Cool. Nice to meet you. So Dana says you're an engineer too?"

"Yep. IT. And you?"

Eli laughs. "Hell no. I like to think of my career as being more gay disaster, terror to gender everywhere. Something like that." They take a sip of their beer. "And by that I mean I'm an event planner."

Eli smiled at Flynn and looked into his eyes for a second, and Flynn couldn't help but feel a bit flustered. Eli's skin looked so clear and soft, a nice contrast to their sharp jawline and visible cheekbones. He wanted to touch it, if he was being honest with himself.

Flynn takes the beer handed to him by Dana and opens it. He takes a sip, in motion with Eli. "That must be interesting, though."

"It is what it is, I guess," Eli shrugs.

Flynn frowns at the apparent end of the conversation, wishing he'd had more courage or at least affability to keep talking to this person.

The first board game they played was some game where people had to draw pictures that could only be of adjectives that could be used to describe the thing, but not the thing itself.

Flynn's partner was Jade, Dana's best friend. But Flynn had already had two beer by this point, and Jade had already had half a bottle of wine.

"Goddammit Flynn, it's not a hockey stick! Hockey stick isn't even an adjective! Dana, why can't I be your partner?" Jade whined.

Dana waved at her and squeezed her wife's hand. "Sorry bestie. Viv and I have a mind link."

Jade slumped down in her chair.

Unsurprisingly, Flynn and his partner came last.

*****

The second game was some trivia thing and Flynn was paired up with Kyle, who knew everything about everything.

It was mostly smooth sailing for them, thankfully. Flynn had probably have five beer by then, but Kyle didn't drink so he was in fine form. At least until they ended up with a question about music history and Vivian, a muscular butch who was at least six feet tall, threatened to cut him if she didn't give him the point. Kyle refused to relent, but his answer was wrong anyway.

In the end, they won the game, even if Vivian did silently signal that she still had her eyes on Kyle.

*****

As Flynn had lost count of how many beer he'd had by this time, he figured it was maybe more than he should've had, but he was paired with Eli for the third game, that much he did know.

The game itself involved a dragon in some way. You had to steal things from the dragon, and get them...somewhere? For reasons?

Eli was really pretty.

Shit, though. Did they like being called pretty? Flynn knew firsthand the power of a gender-affirming compliment. He'd die if someone called him pretty, but getting called handsome, rare as it happened, could sustain him for days.

"You look good," Flynn said, the words rolling out of his mouth.

"Hmm?" Eli looked at him, his eyes a bit dazed-looking. He'd probably had a few too many too.

"I dunno. Pick the term you like to use. But, like, you look so good. I want to touch your face."

There was a pause.

"You too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Flynn felt the warmth of Eli's hand touching his cheek. He leaned into it, until the pressure again left him. "That was nice."

Eli then whispered in his ear, making the hairs on his neck bristle. "Hey, can I?"

Flynn had no idea what Eli was talking about until they put a hand on his large belly that rested on his thighs.

He nodded quietly.

Eli made happy noises as he reached underneath Flynn's T-shirt and quietly massaged Flynn's belly for a moment until stopped when Dana looked over at them.

"I mean, we're both pretty wasted, huh?"

"Yeah," Flynn said, his whole body suddenly feeling warm and alive from Eli's touch.

"We probably shouldn't."

"Yeah."

Eli whispered again. "But I would."

"Yeah?"

"Oh hell yeah," Eli said, slipping his hand under Flynn's shirt again, just for a second, before getting back to the game.

#feedist kinktober 2024 #feedist kinktober #fat ftm main character #nonbinary love interest #cw intoxication #belly play #M/Nb couple dynamics

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