#frantic pig
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marcmarcmomarc · 12 days ago
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Kingdom Hearts IV predictions: Zootopia (Zootopia)
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Takes place during the movie.
Is visited by Sora.
Starring the voices of:
Judy Hopps: Ginnifer Goodwin
Nick Wilde: Jason Bateman
Chief Bogo: Idris Elba
Dawn Bellwether: Jenny Slate
Benjamin Clawhauser: Nate Torrence
Bonnie Hopps: Bonnie Hunt
Stu Hopps: Don Lake
Yax: Tommy Chong
Theodore Lionheart: J.K. Simmons
Mrs. Otterton: Octavia Spencer
Duke Weaselton: Alan Tudyk
Gazelle: Shakira
Flash Slothmore: Raymond S. Persi
Mr. Big: Maurice LaMarche
Gideon Grey: Phil Johnston
Jerry Jumbeaux Jr.: John DiMaggio
Dr. Madge Honey Badger: Katie Lowes
Nangi: Gita Reddy
Mr. Manchas: Jesse Corti
Finnick: Kevin Michael Richardson
Frantic Pig: Josh Dallas
Fru Fru: Leah Latham
Doug: Rich Moore
Young Nick: Kath Soucie
Peter Moosebridge: Peter Mansbridge
Bucky Oryx-Antlerson: Byron Howard
Pronk Oryx-Antlerson: Jared Bush
Officer McHorn: Mark “Rhino” Smith
Mouse Foreman: John Lavelle
Priscilla Tripletoe: Kristen Bell
Junior Ranger Scout Bully: Jackson Stein
Larry: Rich Moore
Gary: David Thibodeau
Fabienne Growley: Fabienne Rawley
Jesse: John DiMaggio
Woolter: John DiMaggio
Muzzled Wolf: Zach King
Officer Francine: Cissy Jones
Officer Higgins: Raymond S. Persi
Jumbeaux Café Customer: Fabienne Rawley
Parking Ticket Moose: John DiMaggio
Parking Ticket Mouse: Melissa Goodwin Shepard
Parking Ticket Hippo Daughter: Madeleine Curry
Beaver Reporter: Brendan Blaber
Sheep Reporter: Kaiji Tang
Pig Reporter: John DiMaggio
Oryx Reporter: Bonnie Hunt
Rabbit Reporter: Selah Victor
Pig Peace Rally Protester: J. Michael Tatum
Leopard Peace Rally Protester: Jen Taylor
Carrot Customer: Tiana Camacho
Sheep Officer: John DiMaggio
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squeakadeeks · 1 year ago
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moodboard for this past week ❤️
#they should invent a grad school thats not fucking insane#i'm hanging in there but im the most unwell i've been in AWhile#this week was just horrible#there was already the freezer food incident but it also started off with a very severe pain episode thats putting me in constant woe#even mundane motion has been agonizing which is McAwesome bc we had a lab inspection which involved moving hundreds of pounds of equipment#during which we found a blackwidow and rats which we had to deal with and was a whole thing psychologically on top of the physical toll#the new class fiasco is still popping off and i had to respond to at this point over 400 emails in the fleeting moments outside of lab#AND A STUDENT TRIED TO FINANCIALLY BRIBE THEIR WAY INTO THE CLASS ? ?? ?? ?????#then the instructor wanted to use me as a guinea pig and i had to test new circuit boards but I wasnt given any time to do so properly#i had to test them plus get them operational and deal with my incoming students all in a frantic 10 minute window#im in charge of running our meetings too but the instructor was interrupting and having side conversations that made it really hard-#to train the other people on the new equipment in a smooth manner#which meant that a bunch of people had to keep me after to ask questions which made me late for my drs appointment#where i found out i cant get the new covid vaccine bc my heart and blood levels arnt stable enough#and joanns lost an expensive+critical fabric order of mine+i had to give a big presentation this week on my research that was stressful#and my inbox is still blowing up from being needed all over the place between teaching lab and classes and yall i am. so so tired.#im in so much pain and so stressed out#debating the ethics of turning into a pile of lint to escape my responsibilities and mortal frame
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iamtheshriekingguineapig · 1 year ago
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Don't pirate books! Go to the library! Unless they are textbooks then sure, screw it- but the library is free and there's even an app called Libby that can access the library database and you can get ebooks and audiobooks! For free! Even if you don't live near a library! Plus, libraries provide other invaluable resources to your communities beyond just lending out books- and checking out books helps libraries stay open! I don't care if you pirate from The Mouse or Netflix, but authors, both big time and self pub, are not your enemy, so please don't treat them like big corporations. They are people like you trying to make a living off of what they love. So if you cannot afford to buy books, that's fine! Please support your community by getting books from the library or its relevant apps. I have very few moral qualms with anyone pirating anything else on that list, but there is already a wonderful system in place that can get you free access to books and other resources, so let happy pirates use that first!
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feeblepeon · 12 days ago
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A message pig approaches your door displaying the message “we are under attack”, calmly followed by a second similar pig with a more frantic font which reads “send reinforcements”
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teaboot · 10 months ago
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As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD
It's the first time I've seen/heard it.
Could you share another one you like using?
Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!
Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')
Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')
Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')
Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)
I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)
Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)
Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)
I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)
Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)
Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)
Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)
Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)
Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)
Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)
Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)
Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)
The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)
Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)
What on God's green earth (What the fuck)
I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)
He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)
Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)
You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)
Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)
Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)
Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)
Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)
Gone belly-up. (Has died.)
We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)
Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)
I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)
Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)
Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)
Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)
He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)
They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)
He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)
Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)
I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)
Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)
I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)
He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)
He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)
Plant your ass. (Sit.)
Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)
He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)
He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)
One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)
I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)
I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)
Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)
Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now
EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite
52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)
Plus some more I forgot:
53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)
54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)
55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)
56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)
57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)
58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)
59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)
60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)
61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)
62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)
63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)
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pigswithwings · 1 year ago
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"wow this is some pretty old art i'm sure i can do better in my current style -" And Then I Did
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joy and love on the planet earth
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nommedtail · 2 years ago
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aggretsuko spoilers bc i read a review/recap thing?
haida and retsuko got married???? this is the opposite of what i wanted lmao
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screampotato · 21 days ago
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Our guinea pigs are very fat, so we had to stop feeding them treats and had to cut their biscuits down to minimal levels. But treats are a crucial part of a human/guinea pig relationship. So we started setting aside a small portion of their daily biscuit ration to be given as treats. You'd think they might be less interested because it's the same stuff they usually eat, but NO. They have learned whole new forms of begging for the Special Biscuits:
#1 the "If It Please your Lordship"
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#2 the Frantic Ferret.
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syddsatyrn · 11 months ago
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Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️
Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.
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⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff
⛧Words: 2.5k
⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.
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The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.
You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 
After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.
You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 
 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.
She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.
“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.
"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.
"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  
You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 
"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."
“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.
"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.
"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”
Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.
"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.
"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.
"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.
"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 
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indecisivecosplayer · 8 months ago
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Saw a post that said "I think Angel really loves when people are soft with Fat Nuggets" and it got me thinking.
What if Valentino used to threaten Angel's pet when he didn't do as he told. Imagine, after 20 hours of filming, Val holding up the squealing pig, just out of reach of Angel, and screaming at him that he would tear him apart and force Angel to eat the remains if he didn't go out there right this moment and put on a good show.
And then imagine in the hotel, one day Fat Nuggets wanders out of his room. And Angel is frantic, searching everywhere, halfway to tears. But he comes down to the bar and finds the pig snuggled up in Husk's lap, the Bartender talking quietly to him.
Husk: Maybe if you could breathe fire, it would be worth it, but I'm afraid nobody's gonna pay ya to sit around and eat little cubes of cheese off the counter all day. Not that I mind the company, of course...
He looks up and sees Angel.
Husk: You alright?
And Angel just bursts into tears.
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bee-wg · 5 months ago
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Year 3:
Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form. 
I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.
“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.
“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.
“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.
“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.
“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.
“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.
“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.
“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.
“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.
“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.
There might be an oversight of me quitting football.
It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.
How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?
“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.
Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.
My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.
Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.
No. Hard no.
Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.
Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.
Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
No? No, actually it might just work.
My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.
With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.
It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.
“Oh! First comment already.” I said.
“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”
3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.
The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.
I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.
“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.
“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”
“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.
“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.
“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said
“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.
“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 
“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.
“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.
Theo stares at us with wide eyes.
“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.
“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.
I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.
“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.
“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.
Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.
“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.
“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.
“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.
Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.
“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.
“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.
“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.
I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.
“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”
Huh?
Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.
I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?
So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.
With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.
The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.
It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.
On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 
My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.
I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.
***
Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.
It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.
I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.
Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.
Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.
I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.
“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.
After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.
"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.
“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.
Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.
“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.
His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.
“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.
“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.
“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.
I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.
He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.
“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.
“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 
He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.
“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.
I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.
Big mistake.
He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.
After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.
He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.
“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.
“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.
My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.
“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.
I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 
He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.
“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.
I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?
I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 
With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.
He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.
Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 
It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.
He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—
“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.
“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.
I must have been too loud and spooked him.
“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.
“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged
“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.
How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.
“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.
He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.
“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.
He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.
“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.
Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.
He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 
I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.
“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.
“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.
Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.
“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.
”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.
He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!
“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.
The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.
Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.
“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.
“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 
“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.
“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.
“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 
“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.
“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.
“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.
“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.
I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.
My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.
As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.
“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.
“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?
“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”
Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.
“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.
Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.
The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.
“Shit, I ran out here naked.”
When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.
When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.
***
Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 
The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 
With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.
Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.
Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.
***
“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” I asked
“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.
He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.
“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  
The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 
“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.
“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.
Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.
The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.
300-350-392-400-443
Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 
With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.
“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.
I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.
Theo stepped closer and read. 
“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.
“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.
The scale made a “Pop” noise.
“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.
“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.
“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.
Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.
“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 
After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.
Chapter 4 ->
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diejager · 1 year ago
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hiiiii! can i request a miguel x reader? miguel is a big shady business man (kinda like king pen) who owns a strip club and reader is one of the strippers who everyone knows not to mess with since she’s miguel’s girl. a guy starts sexually harassing reader and miguel kicks his ass and puts him in his place. if you’re cormfortable, i would like smut ❤️
Property Cw: smut, possessive behaviour, DUB-CON, worshipping, sex workers, strip club, pimp, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, marking, stripper/sex worker!reader, tell me if I missed any.
Despite the place being a strip club - one on the higher end of the city - there was one rule that it followed to a T without exception: do not touch the workers without consent, yet this pig decided to forgo this fundamental rule put in place in ever strip club and touched you when you’ve told him many times to back off. His sweaty and grabby hands moving across your skin left you shuddering, his hands leaving you feeling disgusted by his touch.
“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, moving between the bodies to get away from the man.
“C’mon babe!” He moved to try to grab you, insistent that he only wanted to share a drink and talk, “Please! One lap dance!”
Men like him just couldn’t take no, it frustrated you. That might’ve been what he said : one lap dance, but you knew his type, he would demand for more after you were done and become forceful if you didn’t comply. You tried to distance yourself from him, your heels thumping quietly on the velvet flooring, hurried and annoyed while the man followed you, his fingers grazing the naked skin of your shoulder. You wore a blue teddy, the darkest shade of navy strapped to your skin, the bust acting as a corset to push out your breasts and the thin fabric cupping the swell of your ass. It was almost sheer, the few ribbons and decorative texture hiding anything too intimate from the public and garter straps holding your sheer stockings up your thighs. Your attire seemed to be the source of his obsession and of his liking, even following you to the boss’s VIP corner.
“No!” You swung your arm back, hurrying to the bodyguards standing between the VIP and public area of the club, “I told you-”
In your frantic hiss, you walked into a wall, groaning softly. The wall was more so a wall of sculpted muscle than a plaster and drywall, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his protective embrace. A wide and firm palm gripped your stomach, kneading the soft flesh under the lingerie.
“When she says no, it means no, cabrón,” Miguel growled, his broad stature overshadowing the man that followed you. When you turned your head, Miguel had his wrist in hand, the man winced and whimpered at the tight hold, strength threatening to break his wrist, “You got that?”
He nodded, running away with his tail tucked between his legs, out of the club and as far as he could from the beast that held you gently. Turning you around, he led you up the stairs connected to his upstairs suite, a personal balcony that overlooked the proudest part of his kingdom.
“He’s done.”
He wouldn’t be coming back, once Miguel gave the order, the person wouldn't ever be allowed back into any of his establishments. He had rules that he wanted to be respected, towards his employees and especially you, his sweet girl that he picked up from the previous pimp in the area he now controlled with an iron fist towards the cruel and abusive.
His mezzanine was spacious, a soft, faux leather couch, a black able and a private bar area in a corner for him to indulge in his drunken pleasures with or without guests. You’ve always liked this place, a distance from the music and crowd on the ground floor, it was a solace in the busy club. He sat you on the table, the cool surface making you flinch while he faced you, the leather dipping with his weight. He tenderly cradled your cheeks, thumb running along the curve of your painted lips, his eyes roving down your coverage, smooth skin uncovered to his hungry eyes and calling for him.
“Oh, mi dulce Musa,” he cooed, his lips kissing a line down your neck, the dip of your collar, the smell of your breasts and the warmth of your cunt, wetness pooling over the fabric of the teddy he gifted you. “I’m happy you came to me first.”
He hooked a thigh over his shoulder, spreading you on your back as he slipped a finger under your lace, pulling it aside to look at your glistening folds. Sliding two fingers between your labia and collecting your slick on his calloused pads, spreading them open to admire your cunt, clenching around air —hungry for his thick digits. He bowed his head, pressing a kiss on your throbbing clit, pulsing and needy, circling the entrance of your drooling hole, feeling it clench. Wrapping his lips around your nub, he sucked on it as he plunged in, two fingers stretching your tight warmth, guiding his hand in and out.
You cried out, bucking your hips against his rugged face, grinding upwards with a slow mewl. You felt stretched wide, a finger of his counted two of yours, long and sturdy, pumping into you with a goal in mind, tapping your gummy, sweet spot and pulling you apart from the seams. You moaned, shuddering under him, body wracked with tremors when he pumped a third finger, untangling you from the seams of your salacious and confident image you built from your time as a sex worker. You were a wanton mess, back arching and legs quaking, painted nails curled around Miguel’s hair, pleasure coiled tightly in your core.
His pace was steady, hand driving in deeply, coaxing more slick out of you, curling against your warmth. You clung to him desperately, head thrown back and teary eyed as you balanced on the precipice of your climax, an agonising thrum of pleasure beating between your thighs. Sensing your end, he rolled your clit with the tip of his tongue, giving you a bit of solace before he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You wailed, jerking around as your pussy closed around his fingers, your heat squirting over his hand. It was a blinding fire, eyes rolling back into a white cloud, sightless after your earth-shattering orgasm.
He whispered sweet compliments, laving over the bloodied mark with the flat of his tongue, slowly pumping in and out of you until you rode off your release, legs still shaking and hands still curled around his head. He kissed his bite, red eyes drinking in your debauched figure with his mark, a sign of ownership over you, the red indentation of his teeth bleeding you.
“Mía. Mi dulce Musa,” he whispered, gazing at you lovingly, predatory eyes glowing bright red under his lashes and wild curls.
Taglist: @yas-v @elliewilliamsbae @rinieloliver
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crookedteethed · 1 month ago
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18+ - mdni
ᥫ᭡. kook! jj, who can't keep his dick to himself.
warning: toxic!jj, cheating, public sex (fingering), language
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You sighed, watching JJ flirt shamelessly with yet another woman at the Country Club bar. His pearly whites flashed as he leaned in close, whispering something that made her giggle. You rolled your eyes, sipping your martini.
A familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your gut, but you pushed it aside. This was nothing new. JJ had always been a player, even back when you first met him. You'd known exactly what you were getting into.
Still, you couldn't help but wonder why you stayed.
Maybe it was the way his khakis and Polo hugged his athletic frame, or how his cologne lingered tantalizingly whenever he brushed past. Or perhaps it was the thrill of being with someone so desired, knowing you were the one he came home to at the end of the night.
As if sensing your gaze, JJ glanced over and winked. Damn him and that roguish grin. Your anger melted away as he excused himself and sauntered back, sliding onto the barstool beside you.
With a sinister smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "Did you miss me, gorgeous?" His hand slid up your thigh with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite your anger, JJ's touch ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.
Your mind raced as he brushed the hem of your skirt, reminding you of all the times he had bought you gifts to win you over. But this time, his touch felt like a threat, like a possessive mark left on your body.
"This a cute piece," he taunted, pulling at the fabric possessively,
"Did I buy you this cute little number?"You could feel yourself weakening under his manipulative hold and hated yourself for still wanting him despite everything he had done.
You tried to push away the memories, but they flooded back as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.
"I can tell your side piece over there can't get enough of you," you growled, nodding towards the girl JJ had been cozying up to, who was now frantically scanning the room for him.
"She ain't missing me, she's just craving my dick. I've already had her once--" he says casually, as if it means nothing.
"When?" you interrupt, your jealousy fueling your words. But deep down, you already know the answer and it makes your stomach churn with disgust.
"I don't know." Jay shrugs. " A week or so ago? Two weeks ago, maybe." He casually said, as if it means nothing.
Your blood boils and you feel sick to your stomach.
"You're such a pig," you spit out, unable to contain your disgust any longer. With a heavy heart, you stand up and walk away, unable to bear being near JJ any longer. But of course, he follows behind you, trying to make excuses or apologies that fall on deaf ears.
"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Jay's voice echoes after you, his footsteps pounding against the linoleum floors as he rushes to catch up. "I was just being honest."
You spin around, seething with rage as you lock eyes with him. "Honest? You're supposed to be loyal to me, Jackson, but instead you're out here screwing other women behind my back?" Every word drips with venom as you advance towards him, ready to unleash your pent-up fury.
"Sweetheart, come on." JJ tries to smooth things over in his suave manner, glancing around the deserted hallway before pulling you closer by your hips. "You know I love you, right? You're my everything."
JJ's face may have been a replica of his mother's flawless beauty, but his father's manipulative nature runs through his veins like a toxic poison.
The mere thought of Groff's influence on him ignites a fierce rage within you, intensifying as you feel JJ's hand creeping up your skirt once again--this time his fingers exploring the delicate lace of your panties. You can sense his intent, and it sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to contain the boiling fury inside you.
"You know I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, baby." His words do little to calm the storm brewing inside you as he looks at you with those soft, doe-like eyes--damn him--just as his palm cups your throbbing sex.
A moan escapes your lips as his cool Signant Ring presses against your engorged clit.
"Jay, we can't do this here," you hiss, turning your head to scan for any onlookers.
"Who says we can't?" He counters, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
Your senses are heightened as your eyes dart around, searching for prying eyes or gossiping villagers. The thought of being caught only intensifies the thrill coursing through your veins.
"Jay, please," you mewl, feigning resistance, though your hips betray you by arching closer to his touch. His lips curve into a smirk, knowing how deeply his ministrations affect you. He uses this knowledge ruthlessly as he presses down on your sweet spot with just enough pressure to have your toes curling in your heels.
"No one's looking," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and velvety, just as his fingers slipped beneath the silk of your panties. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.
As JayJay's skilled fingers continued their exploration, your mind clouded over with desire. The combination the warmth of the room, and the knowledge that you could be discovered at any moment only served to heighten your arousal. You gripped the wall, desperate for support as sensation after sensation washed over you.
Suddenly, he slipped a single finger inside of you, and you couldn't help but moan louder this time, Smitten by lust, you didn't care. All that mattered was the delicious friction between your legs, the expert way his fingers moved in and out of you, plundering your depths with practiced ease.
As JayJay added a second finger, stretching you open even further, every ounce of resentment and jealousy you harbored vanished into thin air.
The smooth, probing digits hitting all the right spots within you, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire body. All that mattered in that moment was the exquisite sensations building up inside of you, demanding release.
That bitch at the bar, JJ's insufferable bragging about their sexual conquests—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming need to come on JayJay's fingers, right there in the dimly lit corridors, far away from prying eyes but close enough to tease with the risk of getting caught.
The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the wet sounds of arousal escaping as Jay fingers pumped faster into your cunt, his blue eyes never leaving your face.
JJ could feel the tight grip of your pulsing pussy around his fingers, a clear indication that you were on the brink of ecstasy. He knows that if he can make you gush and lose control, you will forget about everything else - him, the girl at the bar, and any other thoughts that may have been occupying your mind.
JayJay added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, his thumb circling your clit as he began a relentless assault on your most sensitive spots. The wall behind you felt like the only thing keeping you grounded as your senses swam with lust and need. His gaze bored into yours, his smirk widening as he witnessed the effect he had on you. You were open and vulnerable in more ways than one.
The corridor spun dizzyingly around you, but all you could focus on was the pleasure building up inside you, coiled tighter and tighter as JayJay continued his expert ministrations. Your moans became louder, more desperate, and you didn't care who heard or saw anymore. All that mattered was reaching the peak that was so close yet so far away.
"That's it, baby," he cooed. "Let it all out f'me."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. JayJay's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.
"J-JayJay," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close…"
He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Then come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart."
That was all it took. With a cry that echoed through the corridor, you came undone around his fingers. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as JayJay worked you through your orgasm. He held you steady, his free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright as you rode out the high.
Jay’s lips curled into that devilish smirk—a signature of his, one that both thrilled and infuriated you. His fingers, slick with evidence of your surrender, brushed against your thigh as he slowly retreated, deliberately leaving a trail of heat in their absence. His blue eyes bored into yours, darkened with triumph and something more primal, something that left your knees trembling.
And just like that, JJ had you again in his magnet tar pit trap.
As JJ removed his fingers from your panties and brought them to your lips, coating your mouth in your own juices, savoring the sweet, musky taste of arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a challenge dancing in their depths.
"Taste yourself," he said, his voice low and commanding. Your cheeks flushed red, but the arousal coursing through your veins overpowered any last shreds of modesty.
Slowly, you parted your lips and closed them around his fingers, lapping up every drop of your essence. Your heart pounded in your chest as your tongue swirled around his digits, a sultry dance of your submission and desire.
JJ had treated you like shit, you knew, your friends knew, even JJ himself knew, yet you couldn't help the craving that swelled within you for him—a craving to be claimed, to be marked, to be his in every way that mattered.
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as always, reblogs and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶🏾
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tj-crochets · 6 months ago
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I remembered this poison apple plushie pattern exists so I’m taking a brief quilting break to make the first Halloween plushie for the pile!
Most of them won’t be this time intensive but it’s far enough from Halloween I haven’t hit the “fifteen minute oblong shape monster plushies” stage yet lol
(this is not at all color-accurate my phone really dislikes bright green, apparently?)
Crafting forecast! - progress pride quilt (a little less than halfway done) - intersex pride plushie (probably a dog) - MTH auction fills (I really have to get working on these again) - a walrus (CholyKnight has a new pattern coming out soon) - the second snake (from when I traced some fabric the wrong way) - a whole bunch of mini monsters (for Halloween, like I did last year) - the taco dinosaur baby quilt - a small flannel quilt for my uncle's cat (I made my grandma's dog a flannel quilt and she loves it and my uncle's cat keeps trying to steal it) - probably some more Halloween-themed things I haven't thought of yet?
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skzdarlings · 2 years ago
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03. sharing a bed series ; skz ; changbin
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 3/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: changbin/reader content info: explicitly plus size reader. sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. lingerie. teasing. reading and watching porn. a bit of spanking. not so much choking but throat-holding. penetrative sex.
;)
-
Oh god, you think, staring at your suitcase full of lingerie, what the fuck do I do?
You like beautiful things and you love lingerie.  Your suitcase is brimming with pretty nighties and delicate babydolls, a luxury indulged for your own sake but completely inappropriate given the circumstances. 
You thought you would have your own hotel room this holiday, but after a few friends dropped out of the trip, there was some last minute shuffling, and now—
“Yah! Where’s my toothbrush?”     
Changbin is your hotel roommate for the weekend.  Just you, him, and a single king-sized bed. 
Oh, and your suitcase full of lingerie. 
You slam the luggage shut, spinning around to look at him as he emerges from the bathroom in a frantic state of his own. 
It takes a second to register his question, your eyes wide as you look him over from head to toe.  His dark hair is damp from a shower and he is wearing nothing but a bath towel.  He holds it shut at his hip, a sturdy thigh flashing when the towel parts.  His body is one mouth-watering slab of big, broad bulk, and you find yourself clutching your own ample chest as if that will stop your heart from stampeding out. 
“Ah, there,” Changbin says, strutting past you.  Absent-mindedly, he says, “I’m almost done, then you can shower.” 
The few minutes it will take him to brush his teeth will not be enough for you.  Your efforts to find suitable sleepwear are completely futile.  In the end, you settle on the simplest nightie with the fullest body, even if it is a bit transparent. 
You take your turn in the bathroom after him.   When it comes time to change, you slip into the nightie and stare agape at your own reflection. 
Oh god, you think.  This is a disaster. 
This is your most conversative piece and it is still wildly sexy.  You love your bigger body and you love dressing to accentuate its features, and this piece is no exception.  Full thighs and fuller breasts and full curves spill up and over the tighter places.  The little panties are swallowed up by your plushy ass and no matter how much you adjust the neck of the nightie, it continues to fall in the most suggestive way possible. 
You look hot.  If anyone else was waiting for you in that hotel bed, you would be fine.   But it’s Changbin.  Your close friend Changbin.  Your close, hot, loud, insane, sexy, confident, drool-worthy, muscle pig friend Changbin. 
You sigh, resigned to your fate.  There is nothing more you can do. 
You pop open the bathroom door and stick your head around the corner.  Changbin is lounging in bed, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, an arm thrown over his head as he watches something on his phone.   His hair has dried fluffy and he is smiling at whatever he’s watching.
“Changbin,” you say.  “Close your eyes.” 
He does the opposite, like the stupid hot dummy he is, looking up at you.  You get a swoop in your gut just from his curious glance, his messy hair, the comfort he radiates laying in your shared bed.   It really is unfair how he is a hundred different styles of sexy at once.  This is the same guy who was working out shirtless on the beach lawn just an hour ago, the same guy who showed up to dinner in designer glasses and a form-fitting jumpsuit, the same guy who was cuddling you in a hammock wearing a big hoodie and board shorts.  Surely he could try and have the decency to look bad at least once.    
“I said close!” you repeat. 
“Ah! What!”  He does it, even if he is confused, lowering his arm and covering his eyes.  “There!  Stop yelling at me!”
“You’re yelling, not me!”
“I’m not yelling!”
You are both yelling.  But his eyes are closed so you make a mad dash for your luggage, tossing your day clothes haphazardly with a little wince for the mistreatment of your pretty things.  But you need to be fast, shoving your clothes in your suitcase so you can dive under the covers before Changbin inevitably gets bored and—
“What are you wearing?” Changbin says. 
“Changbiiiin!”  You turn around with a furious scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.  “I told you to close your eyes!”
“What, forever?  I thought we were done!”
“Well, we’re not!  Close them!”
“But I already—”
“Close!”
He grumbles a curse to himself but closes his eyes, laying back with his arms stubbornly crossed.  You turn away to zip your luggage, shaking your head.  You also fight down a giggle, one bubbling up from the tiniest bit of delight caused by Changbin’s dropped jaw and wide eyes as he thoroughly drank in the sight of you.   
You turn around to find him peeking, one eye open.  He is one second too late closing it again. 
“I saw that,” you say.
“Saw what?” he says.  “I missed it.  My eyes are closed.”
“Uh-huh.”  You walk up to the bed and fold back the covers, eyes on him the whole time.  You put your hands on your hips when he cracks open one eye again.   “Pervert,” you say, with a snort of amusement.
“Me?”  He opens both eyes and gestures wildly.  “Look what you’re wearing!  How am I the pervert?” 
“You’re in boy lingerie so be quiet.”
“What!”   
“The grey sweatpants with the dick print.”  You point to his lap.  “Boy lingerie.”   
“Ahhh! Ah! Hey!  Have some principles.  That’s reverse sexism.  You should be ashamed of yourself.”  He wags a scolding finger you at you.  Then, for good measure, he grabs a pillow and puts it in his lap.  “Stop objectifying me.”   
You laugh in spite of yourself, climbing onto the bed.   You put a comforting hand on his shoulder.   
“I thought I was sleeping alone,” you say.  “I’m sorry.  If you have a big shirt I can sleep in, I don’t mind changing.” 
“You wearing that,” Changbin says, giving you a very thoughtful once-over that makes your whole body tingle, “or you wearing my shirt.”  He lifts the pillow and looks under it.  “What do you think?” he says, as if consulting his dick. 
“You’re so stupid!”  You hate how much you are laughing at this goofball.  You roll your eyes even while giggling.  “I’m going to sleep.  Have a fun conversation with your little friend.”
“Ah! He’s not little,” Changbin says, as if very offended.  “He’s average height and girthy, like me.”
“Nice try but you’re not average height and ew, oh my god, don’t say girthy.” 
“Girthy.”      
“I can’t hear you,” you say, sliding under the covers.  You pull them up to your chin and lay on your side with your back to him.  “I’m already sleeping,” you say. 
“How am I supposed to sleep now!” he says.   
“That’s not my problem!”
He grumbles some more while you snicker.  Eventually he turns off the light and gets under the covers too.  You both go on your phones, the little white lights illuminating the bed.  You glance over your shoulder to see him laying with his back to you, watching videos on mute.  You turn back to your phone and open your reading app, deciding you can squeeze in a chapter or two of your current romance. 
You are reading about the latest duke’s pulsating member and his lady’s quivering thighs when Changbin turns over.  You are too slow hiding your phone.   
“Are you reading porn?” he asks, reaching out and snatching your phone. 
“It’s not porn!”  You sit up to grab it back but he holds it away.  “It’s literature!”
“It’s porn,” he says, bursting into peels of giggles that should be ridiculous coming out of that buff body, but they only make you laugh too.
“Changbiiiin,” you whine through your own laughter, rolling half on top of him to try and grab your phone.  “Give it baaaack.  It’s not porn.” 
“He throbbed as pleasure conquered his senses and ERUPTED LIKE A FORCE OF VOLCANIC NATURE—!”       
“Stooooop!”
“That sounds painful,” Changbin muses. 
You finally snatch your phone back and promptly toss it off the bed.  It lands with a little thump.  
Changbin is laying on his back and giggling like a child, poorly stifled teeheehees that do not relent even when you lean over him with your most intimidating face.   
“That’s not fair,” you say.  “You have to show me yours now.” 
That gets him to look at you with surprise, tilting his head.  You do not miss when his eyes go to your chest, especially because it lingers there for a very long moment.  He touches his bottom lip, flicking his tongue over his thumb absently before finally meeting your gaze. 
“What?” he says.  “Did you say something?” 
“Show me your porn,” you say. 
“My—what!  Get down.”  He bats you away and crosses his arms.  “I will remind you I am a man of principle.  I have convictions.  Unlike you, I don’t keep demeaning pornographic content on hand at all times.  I have too much respect for the human form and the sanctity of intimacy and lovemaking.”  
You blink at him.
“Fine,” he says, and picks up his phone.  “Don’t blame me for any volcanic eruptions.” 
Once he has his bookmarks open, you take his phone and roll over, ignoring his protests.  You hold the phone out and click a link at random, even with him pressed right up against your back as he tries to steal it back.  You wriggle in his lap, making him squeak, either because your ass is pushing at his junk, or because of the video that opens. 
“Oh my,” you say.  
It’s a point-of-view video, a man’s hand sliding down a very soft, curvy body.  Your own body perks with interest when his thumb glides down her wet pussy, teasing her lips apart before sliding inside.  Changbin makes a strangled noise that you hardly register, staring as the man in the video slowly fingerfucks the woman, a woman not unlike you in proportion and general appearance. 
“I can explain—ah, hey! Why are you skipping?”  Changbin’s somewhat embarrassed tone shifts midsentence to indignation as you tap to fast forward.   
“I wanna get to the good part!”
“The good—?  Yah! You’re so impatient!” 
You ignore him, fast forwarding until you see a dick then letting it play. 
Changbin has given up on trying to get his phone back.  He makes a sound of miserable defeat and thunks his forehead against the back of your head.  You bite your bottom lip, flushed from head to toe, your thighs especially squirmy as need gathers between them.   You watch the woman in the video turn over until she is on all fours.  The man pushes inside her and you watch the way her body moves when he thrusts deeply.  His hand comes down in a sharp slap, making you twitch with wanting.
“I like that,” you say, aware of Changbin growing hard against your backside.   You feel him twitch at your comment.   When you skip ahead in the video again, he doesn’t speak.  You stop when the man wraps his hand around the woman’s throat and you smile.  “Like that too.”  
He is rock hard against your ass.  Either he thinks staying still means you can’t feel it or he wants you to feel it.  Testing, you grind slowly against him. 
He grabs your hip through the blankets. 
“Ah, you.”  He squeezes your hip.  “No teasing.” 
“No?” you ask, wriggling just a little more.  “None at all?” 
There is a brief pause, then he slides his hand under the covers to hold your waist directly.  It is a slow, questioning motion, leaving you time to refuse.   When you don’t, he slides his hand down to stroke your thigh. 
You put his phone aside, the screen going dark, its contents forgotten as you turn your head.   He slips one arm under you, his hand cupping a breast at the same time his other hand goes between your legs.  When he kisses you, you open your mouth to immediately deepen it.  He does, licking at you and sucking your bottom lip, grinding in a slow circle against you.   It makes you ache, squirming in his strong embrace, his fingers only just hovering where you need him. 
“Shh, it’s okay,” he says when you start bucking and whining into his kiss.  He kisses you too deeply for you to protest his teasing, but then he finally hooks his fingers in your panties to draw them to the side. 
You get dizzy, either from kissing more than breathing or just his overwhelming presence.  When he touches you and feels how wet you already are, he makes a low sound and curses. 
“Ch—Changbin,” you say, breathy and a little senseless already.  “Please.” 
He moves swiftly, manhandling you with ease and care.  You turn over and he pushes the blankets away to get up behind you.  You whimper into the sheets when he tugs you into a better position, then he is drawing your panties to the side again and stroking your whole pussy from clit to entrance and back again.  His fingers are soaked by the time he puts them inside you, strong arm finding a steady rhythm quickly.  Combined with a couple sharp smacks to your ass, you come apart with a cry, whole body shaking as you grind back on his hand. 
You sink into the bedsheets, eyes closed, panting.  You feel his hand wet hand cup your thigh, then his fingers spreading your pussy open.  You clench around nothing and hear him curse. 
You look over your shoulder at him.  Even though you were the one who came, he looks completely wrecked, his fluffy black hair a dishevelled mess and his jaw clenched, shoulders tense.  You look a little lower, staring at the thick bulge in his sweats. 
It’s him who speaks first, his voice rough when he says, “You look… do you have any idea…” 
“You’re not wearing underwear, are you,” is what you end up saying, giggling.  “Boy lingerie.  Told you.” 
He snorts, grinning, looking more cocky than chagrined.  That expression morphs to curiosity and hope when you reach for a make-up bag sitting on the head-table. 
“Yes,” he says, when you pull a string of condoms out of it.  For some reason, it’s the funniest response he could have given, and you giggle a little more.  Those giggles come to a stop when he pulls your panties down, then rolls down the band of his sweatpants down too.  
Your mouth falls open.  “Wow,” you say.  “You are—”
“Girthy?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.” 
He mimes zipping his lips shut before taking the condom. 
You accidentally untuck the bedspread when he finally gets inside you.  One corner comes undone, and the second one follows when he starts fucking you in earnest.  It’s a good, full stretch, and you moan into the messy bedspread as he grabs your hips to pull you into every thrust.  You swear you see stars when he slides one hand up and around your neck, lifting your head and holding you by the throat as he fucks into you.  He slows down a bit to rub at your clit, making you come and spasm around him, before he drives himself quickly to completion. 
You end up sprawled facedown on the undone bed, your nightie in a state of disarray and your panties god knows where.  He flops down beside you, breathing hard, still pretty much dressed.  Once he’s caught his breath, he looks at you, smiling when he reaches out to brush some hair out of your face. 
You smile back, rolling into his open arms.  You rest your head on his chest and exhale.
Then, knowing it’ll get a reaction because he’s Changbin, you say, “That wasn’t bad.”
“Not bad!” he says, predictably loud.  “What do you mean not bad?  That was amazing.  Come here.”  He’s laughing now, pulling you close when you laugh and try to roll away.  “Get back here.  I’ll show you not bad.” 
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berriblossom · 2 months ago
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->Modern AU, like organized crime Fatui Buisness AU, reader is considered amab, power dynamics, you are his "dog", sugar daddy pantalone, warning for gore, blood, violence, and slight mention of collars, Fatui is a crime syndicate and the Northland bank will always collect what is in fair exchange of debt. DNI: (this is written by masc NB, so don't fetishize this pls, minors pls dni)<-
The empty restaurant with dimmed lights set a "mood" for its guests. Most glamor at the amount of detail on the pantings that hang on the wall. The guests even ignorantly claimed the false portraits to be original. Like these fools have never seen a well organized dinner set either.
"Oh, is that a Doyung Orginal?"
"My look at the engraving on the plates!"
"My goodness the wine is to die for, has to be a Mondstat staple!"
Yes, the quality and attention to detail were incredible, even in the late hours for special guests to come by and have "chats" with the staff. With the owner, head chef, and hostess standing still for him.
For a specifically special guest, he was on his way for a special meeting with the staff. The court of Fontaine never failed to disappoint with the glamor, the fusion of fontainian and Liyuen food, who could have thought? No wonder such elite laywers, officers, prosecutors, senators, and opera house performers eat here to fill their hearts and stomachs till content.
Like filthy pigs.
It sickened him to his stomach.
Pantalone hated the stiffness in the dining hall. The tables were too close together, hence no privacy in the place for actual buisness to be held. No wonder some customers complain of the noise, but then again when cheap dandelion wine is served for all service cycles, you'd get noisy too.
The carpet was tacky, it was crisp crimson with intricate detail, even the most disgusting hardwood floors would've captured the feeling within the place better. His eyes moved around, the small perfectly sculpted gray hairs swept into the neat style of his hair.
His fingers collected in his lap as the pitifully looking waitress took his order. No one was here, all customers were gone. Vacant of even the tacky suites, outdated dresses, and excessive displays of nonexistent money. But when sitting in front of the real deal, who wouldn't get nervous.
The man who owns the Norhtland Bank, the wealthiest and most accredited bank in Teyvat. The man who was a well-decorated politician, salesman, diplomat, and sponsor to some of the biggest brands and stock names in the world. The richest person to have lived in Teyvat sits before the teenager and smiles at her with a carefully crafted smile. A fake one, no less.
But even before the slaughter, the wolf can be kind to any of the sheep for the sake of better taste of their meat.
He sighs as he sips the cool glass of what feels like stale water. The chef stares frantically outside the kitchen window into the dining area. The dusty chandelier looks way more dusty and apparent than usual. The chairs at table 5 look more crooked than normal. All the smallest imperfections seem to be shown right before the finale. Pantalone crosses his leg as he flickes an nonexistent speck of dirt off his perfectly pressed dress pant leg. His black and gray suite complimenting his features, the rounds of his glasses and his gloves.
"What a shame, isn't it?" He says with a small pitiful chuckle to the waitress, as she places the plate of ragu onto the table. The dish looking the cleanest it will ever be. But even from the looks of it, well polished to a uncultured eye. It looks old, the tomatoes aren't fresh, the salt is old snd possible too dry. The onions aren't soft enough and the chew of them could make anyone vomit. The goll to charge over a hundred mora for this is honestly more of a scam than a loan with 14% interest on it in a first year.
Pantalone watches the girl shake her head, then nod. In an almost confused way. "Ah, um..no-no, it is..sir..?" Almost like a test, she feels like its a multiple choice when its actually true or false in his mind.
Sigh, what a shame. This place is a dump, better a landfill than even another department to waste money on. The taxes in this neighborhood are ridiculous anyway. Too close to the Palais Mermonia.
Out of curiosity and just to get it over with, he was always playing the patient role within his organization, but in reality, he wanted to be over with this and now. Pantalone takes a bite of the ragu, and as he thought, too salty, not fresh, and the lettuce is welted. The saliva in his mouth pools, his teeth stick, the assault on his tongue makes him gag silently. He chews slowly and swallows. His mind was made. Screw with polite conversation and then the slaughter. Their best and finale dish said enough, and his mind was made up.
"Excuse me while I make a quick phone call. While I'm outside could you call your manager and the owner of this fine establishment? I'd love to have a conversation with them."
-
Your phone rang while you slept in the hotel Pantalone set up on the outskirts of the court, a decent way to lay low for any job he wanted done during his political tour of the place. Even with the House of the Heart here, sone jobs required more...brutal ways to ease the tensions within the nation of solem waters.
The Fatui despite the reputation they've built for years, as a banking, diplomatic, independent governing body to help local governments and offices to aquire the stystems and supplies needed. Money, political dirt, information, a means to kill, or just power. You want it, someone had it. So even if the harbingers held such, it was too much of a "risk" for they themselves to do all the work. Why not have someone else do it?
Even the most deranged harbingers follow this rule placed by their leaders. Even that popstar Tartaglia, despite him speaking about wanted to lick the blood off a knife after cutting his finger. So it wasn't crazy for you, someone who gets whats done for a notcible price, done to be favored by someone like Pantalone.
So when that call rang through the hotel, you picked it up lazily, tiredness from the stiff and insufferable plane ride beating on your body. Scarred with what many would hope to be the ghosts that haunt your dreams rather than the ghosts of anyones beloveds. But anytime that phone rings, its always the latter.
"Yes?" No need for anything conversation or formalities, despite Pantalone scowling at it. You could hear the night air of the busy street he was on. The sound of the wind, sea air flickering through the reciver. But the sound that makes you highly alert is that wicked chuckle. A small, kind-sounding chuckle. But it's actually a sign of how pissed he is. Doing this job for 7 years teaches you a lot, without a word you stand and get ready to head wherever he wants you to be with a tired sigh.
"So good for a vacation.." you mumble as Pantalone's exhuasted and crafted smile drops. "You're incredibly lucky your the most competent one I've had. So keep the tone in check. Dogs don't bark unless needed remember?"
The warning was in plain sight, even with rose-colored glasses it was a stark sight. Your roll your eyes as he complains about the stupid little dump of a restaurant and how piss poor the quality is. And something about a shitty ragu? You sigh and put on your boots as you finsh getting dressed, half the time you barely catch what hes upset about. But for now its better to pretend.
"Since i can tell you're not listening fully. Get over to this dump within the next 10 minutes. Wear your uniform and don't be late. Be a good dog."
Like always, you always are. So without a word you let him hang up and huff as you tighten the straps to the simple leather harness he had you wear. Gloves, check. Boots, check. And finally a token from Pantalone for his favorite dog...a beautiful reminder that your freedom is imminent.
-
When you arrive(3 minutes early), you stick to the shadows and watch from the corner of the restaurant front house as Pantalone grills the staff on the quality of food. When in reality he could not give a shit for it, but hey? What good is it for a show?
"But gentlemen it truly amazes me how incompetent you are. It's such a shame, that for what...11 years we have donated various amounts to see this place prosper when in reality, the Northland Bank has been wasting millions of mora on a shack like this? Such a deaperate shame."
As soon as his tone became pointed, the change in tone. It was time to move, so you waisted, arms crosses and head turned down as you waited.
"For the Tsarista's sake. You'd think I'd note the amount of money missing from...." it all drowned out for you, you knew how impatient he really was, and his body language hid it, but never the voice. You kick off the wall and walk into the dining area of the restaurant as the owner and manager argue with Pantalone in desperation about how its not a watse.
"No gentlemen, I really think it is. Not to add the amount of money you've embezzled with the small business loans we've given. 5.6 million mora missing from the original 12 million in 11 years? Over 100k a month in sales but yet so little profit made? You must think of my gratitude as useless?"
The owner, sweating like a pig on its way to the slaughter house, held his hands up in disagreement and a final wave to uphole peace. His stuttering pleas, even pitiful and frankly stomach- curling snotty tears all come to a halt when you stand behind him. The manager kneeling on the floor begging for forgiveness of his greed, looks up and sees the thing many who take money up with the Northland Bank fears most.
"Gentlemen, I see you've noticed my dear friend here. You see...-" Pantalone sits on the edge of the table, the staff of thr restaurant stand in the entryway of the kithcen and serving station in fear. Escape is useless, you liked hunting as a sport anways.
"You see, I despise, liars. I really do, and something that makes me just so...displeased is when my hard earned kindess is treated with lies and disrespect. I gave you the money, happy to support a in-need business. Like a basket case chairty...but to see the money, my money. My mora, used like....this?"
Your hand comes to the shoulder of the owner as Pantalones monolog comes to a fateful end. "So...well...theres no need for a second chance...not after your greedy showcase...but i will say....-" He stands and downs the rest of the water in a long and slow sip. "The Northland Bank will send some beautifully picked flowers for your services."
With a snap of his fingers, as he turned his back to the pleading staff and owners, he speaks lowly.
"Sick 'em."
As he leaves, the owner, an elder balding man scrambles to cling onto Pantalones leg, but as he reaches out, the hand on his shoulder, your hand grabs him by the chin, and with a small movement...
crack!
The mans head is shot upward, eyes glazed over and gray as his body is lifeless and limp, jaw clenched permanently as his spine is stilted. A pen kept on your person, stuck in the back of his head to keep it in place as blood drips like honey onto the crimson carpet. The the spray started, like the fountain of Lucine, except instead of a prayer for new life, it was one to cling onto. The pen was shoved until the clicker was sticking out. You let go of his head as his body lumped onto the ground. By the time Pantalone is out of the door, screams of terror, fear, and pure agony ring out as well as the stupid tacky chime of the entrance bell of this dump of a restaurant. With your nonchalant espression as he knows, his dog will handle it.
-
By the next hour when the noise died down, he returns with a expensive cigar, lightening it with a silver lighter. Pantalone enters and sees just the beautiful spread of color. As you packed up and chopped bodies like they were hog meat with the same dull knives used to make any shitty dish within this dump. Blood decorated even the onion colored wallpaper, soaking and staining. He looks down and sees the bodies all in bags, no bullets, meaning your must've used your hands.
When he entered the kitchen to see you chopping the arm of one of the waiters, he notes how uncaring your eyes were. Like this was just another Wednesday to you, your eyes glazed in concentration as you bang the butchers knife into the cutting board to hack the arm away. Veins and coagulted blood splays all around, but in his eyes, it was so beautiful....
And alluring.
He walked closer and tilted your chin to meet his gaze, bringing his nose to your cheek, he inhales the iron sting and copper twang painted on your skin, even if you scrubbed every micro-inch off he could still smell it. With the deep inhale, he smiles against your cheeck as you hold still, almost numb to the exchange. "Yes...good....such....goood...my good boy..." he waits for you to finish, like you were programed to.
"You're only good, boy, sir." You repeat like always back, even if its for money, his obsessed mind games, power, ego stroking, you will always repeat it back. Like a good dog.
He grins as he pressed his lips onto your cheek, almost tryung to dabb it away with a lick, he pulls away and notes. "The mess will be cleaned tomorrow, this place is going to be burned anways, now come, i need my dog for a walk."
-> teehe...can you tell i wrote this at 3 A.M?
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