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feeder86 · 18 hours ago

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Guy and a Gain...Again!

“Fancy doing this with me?” Guy asked his housemate, holding up an advertisement for a triathlon in the Spring.

Baz winced slightly. He was certainly a very fit man, but there was no point in trying to compare his athleticism with the likes of Guy. Guy was an absolute machine; his body a temple; a testament to years of tireless dedication and training. “Nah…” he replied with a sigh. “It’s right around the time of Lucy’s birthday. She’ll probably want to do something special.”

Guy nodded and resisted the urge to complain. Baz had been so much more fun before he got with Lucy. Soon it would be just like all the rest of his old friends: engagements, weddings and children. How boring! In Guy’s opinion, it was always far better to keep things casual and pursue your own interests in life, rather than getting tied down. He’d only fallen in love once, and that hadn’t exactly ended well. The only person he could ever truly rely on was himself.

“That’s fine,” Guy smiled. “I think they do another one later in June.”

Baz shook his head. “No thanks, Buddy.”

Guy sighed as he watched his housemate disappear into his bedroom. It wasn’t that Guy needed any help paying the mortgage on this condo; he’d sweet talked his way up to quite a level of seniority in his job and was always looking about for the next jump into something better. No, Guy had always had a housemate for the simple fact that he hated being there on his own. He craved interaction and the glory days, when he lived in the college dorms, with plenty of people about, at all times of the day.

Despite how messy and occasionally disorganised Guy had been in college, his apartment was a perfect utopia of minimalistic calm. He excitedly plumped up the sofa cushion and set some frozen pizzas to heat up in the oven as his buddies Christian and Harry were back in town for the night. He’d met them years ago, back when he was still seeing Mikey, his best friend in college. With Mikey’s interest in gaining weight, the pair of them had visited a few feedism events in their time; with Guy picking up more than a few friends that he still kept in touch with.

“Look at you!” Guy swooned, seeing Harry as he strolled in, belly first. He’d gone softer and jigglier, purposefully bouncing as he walked as if to emphasise it further.

“I’m up 45lbs since you last saw me,” he boasted, kissing Guy on his cheek. “I’m only fifteen away from the big four hundred!”

“Impressive!” Guy laughed. There was just something so joyful about the way guys like him shamelessly enjoyed their bodies. He didn’t care what anyone said - it was a definite turn-on.

Sloping in behind Harry was his feeder boyfriend, Christian. Usually stick thin and trendy, he appeared that day to be more than a little bloated. A thickness had begun to encircle his waist and his handsome face had puffed up with a doughiness that was surprisingly distracting.

“What happened to you?” Guy teased, patting Christian on his under-exercised butt and failing to find the tightness he was used to. “All the feeding finally got the better of you, huh?”

Giant Harry turned around, smirking. “His fast metabolism crashed,” he explained, failing to hold back a chuckle. “Ten pounds was all it took and his little dick was craving more and more blubber.”

Guy laughed and looked over his buddy, Christian. When he’d met him a few years ago, he’d been one of the kinkiest and least compromising feeders Guy had ever come across. He’d taken chubby Harry and poured gallons and gallons of fattening shakes down his throat until he’d swelled into the rounded blob that he was today. Yet, now look at him; his kinks turning inwards. “What is it about you feeders?” Guy asked, full of disbelief for what had become of Christian. “It’s like you all have some sort of expiration date before you start going all soft.”

Christian shrugged. “What can I say?” he smiled. “It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” he nodded, raising his t-shirt a little to reveal the swollen, pot bellied middle on him.

“Jeez!” Guy marvelled, having never imagined such a thing on the boy before. “Look at that!”

“That’s not all,” Harry grinned, stepping around Christian and pulling back his lover’s sweatpants to uncover the top half of his broad butt and lifting his shirt up from the back.

Guy couldn’t help but laugh when he saw what Harry was showing him. He reached out and stroked the skin where Christian had had a brand new tattoo of a small pig tale inked onto his body. “You boys are such kinky little fuckers!” he marveled, instantly getting an erection.

“I wanted something that would ensure there was no going back,” Christian explained, equally aroused to be leaning forward and showing this off to Guy.

“And how do you feel about this?” Guy asked Harry. He had always been the submissive one in the relationship, despite seeming to enjoy a slightly more empowered status at present.

“I love it!” Harry laughed, grabbing a full roll of blubber from Christian’s side and jiggling it. “I’m going to triple every pound he put on me, sending it straight back onto him!”

Guy grinned, his eyes dancing with delight. He simply loved the kinky talk between these two. He always had. They knew exactly who they were, and were proud to embrace it.

An hour later, the three boys were lying in Guy’s supersized bed. Sweat pouring off them, pizza and crumbs filled the bed sheets as Guy lay back with the two chubs resting their heads on his broad shoulders. It had been the first time Christain had wanted to be fucked by him and, although he had made a valiant effort, he’d found Guy’s size too challenging to take. Instead, Harry had stepped up, bending over beautifully whilst a horny Chritain gorged his chubby face on everything available as he watched.

“Do you ever hear from Mikey these days?” Harry asked.

Guy sighed at the mention of Mikey’s name, but it hurt a lot less than it used to. “Not for a few years now,” he answered. It had been his own fault. He had been the one to stop replying to messages and never picking up the phone. However, he’d needed to step away for his own mental health. It didn’t do to dwell on a lost love.

“You should see him now,” Harry laughed, handing over his cell phone with a clear picture of Mikey from his gainer socials: enormously fat, rounded and bursting with lard. “He’s well over five hundred pounds these days.”

Guy studied the picture with awe. There was the boy he had once adored, now consumed by his own hunger and lust for fat; his neck a distant memory, his arms giant sacks of blubber.

“Good for him!” Guy smiled fondly, remembering the skinny boy he had once fooled around with. “This is exactly the sort of shape he always wanted.”

“You should come with us to the gainer evening tomorrow,” Christian suggested just as Guy handed back the cell phone.

Guy chuckled at the idea. “I haven’t been to one of those in years.”

“You do like gainers though,” Harry smiled, noticing that Guy’s hardness had been resurrected after seeing Mikey’s picture.

“My dick likes a lot of stuff,” Guy simply replied. “Body confidence most of all.” But as the boys talked and talked, he was gradually persuaded, agreeing to meet them there the next evening after his date with a girl from his gym.

Upon arriving past midnight, Guy left his shirt with the bartender, setting about to flirt and enjoy the attention of all the fat men who were ogling him. The gainer scene had come a long way since he’d last been out. The pot-bellied boys had been replaced by extreme superchubs with at least one scrawny-looking feeder under their giant arms. Guy flirted and played with them all, happy to indulge their fat kinks. Yet, there was one younger man, standing to the side who kept catching his attention: tall, handsome, with strong, rounded shoulders and a slim waist. Throughout the early hours of the morning he stood alone, watching from the sidelines, nursing a beer and not getting involved.

Perhaps the gainer scene had become more insular and harder to break into as an outsider, Guy thought to himself. It wasn’t a problem that Guy had personally. Harry and Christian could both vouch for him, and his strapping body caught the attention of any he didn’t yet know. Guy, it could be said, had never been shy. Even as a non-drinker, he never failed to insert himself, front and center, into any social event.

“So, what brings you here?” Guy asked, heading over to the handsome boy and introducing himself, seeing as no one else seemed to be making an effort.

The man stood up a little straighter, as if on high alert. He shifted his feet and passed his beer from one hand to the other, looking as if he was unsure whether to give his real name or not. “Dillon,” he finally offered. “And… Oh… I don’t know…I was just curious,” he mumbled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to come and speak to him, let alone ask him why he was there.

Guy smiled, finding the awkwardness surprisingly cute. If the boy was here, at this gainer event, there was going to be something kinky about him; something just waiting to be unlocked. “Have you slept with many fat boys, Dillon?” he asked, knowing his forward question would continue to make the boy squirm with such amusing awkwardness.

Dillon shook his head. “No… I’ve… I’ve not long been out of a relationship.”

Guy nodded knowingly. “Ah, so now the shackles are off and you’re free to explore?” he laughed, feeling like he was getting somewhere at last.”Well, if you’re looking for a good fatty to fuck, I can highly recommend that one over there,” he pointed. “Just shy of three hundred pounds, growing fast and as kinky as they come. Want me to introduce you?”

Dillon shook his head quickly. “No, no… that’s okay,” he shot back shyly.

Again, Guy grinned, knowing that he still hadn’t quite hit upon the reason why such a conventionally good looking boy was there that evening. “Or… if you want…” he offered slowly and teasingly, “...I could introduce you to some good feeders,” he smiled, giving Dillon’s flat stomach a little pat.

Dillon stared back at him with wide, wondrous and almost childlike eyes. Bingo! There it was: the real reason Dillon had come along that night.

“So, how long have you wanted to be a porker?” Guy rolled on, deciding to take it all in his stride. Of all the arousing conversations he had had that night, nothing had turned him on like this. There was just something so exciting about finding genuinely fresh meat in this scene.

“What makes you think I want to get fat?” Dillon asked, giving Guy more eye contact than he had managed before.

“Hmm, let me see!” Guy smiled “The little bulge in your pants when I mentioned it. The slightly higher pitch of your voice just now,” he shot back at him, chuckling.

Dillon looked around the room and back to Guy. “Do you think anyone else knows?” he asked shyly.

Guy laughed once again and swept his large arm over Dillon’s shoulders. “Well, you just told the biggest blabbermouth in the room, so… yeah, pretty soon everyone is going to know that you want to be a little lardass too!” he teased. He looked at the boy up and down and smiled. “You’ve really never told anyone before, have you?”

Dillon shook his head once more. Then he followed without question as Guy led him out of the venue and into a cab, heading back to his apartment. His prize, secret catch for the evening.

Guy awoke the next morning with Dillon lying on his front next to him, still naked and splayed. As Guy had teased him about his gainer kinks, the boy had seemed to submit more and more; sucking him off with excellent skills and finally bending over and letting Guy fuck him without reservations.

“Morning, Sleepy Head!” Guy teased as the boy rolled over and realised he was waking up in a stranger’s bed.

Dillon looked at Guy, clearly piecing everything back together from the night before. “I can’t believe we did all that last night,” he chuckled.

“I can,” Guy smirked back. He’d inserted his dick so deeply into Dillon’s butt after making him down a protein shake, he almost panicked when the boy came; so intense and extreme was his moaning. “So…” he began playfully, leaning on his side and looking directly into Dillon’s eyes, “...Is today the start of a whole new era for you?”

“What do you mean?” Dillon replie/d.

“Well, you said last night you’d never even been with a guy before, let alone had your gainer kinks indulged like that.” He smirked, remembering just how hard he had gotten Dillon. His erection had been like concrete. “I know you can talk the talk when it comes to letting go and getting fat, but do you really have what it takes?”

Already, Dillon’s dick was starting to levitate and stiffen.”Oh, I have no worries there,” he nodded. “I love food. What turns me on is the idea of being able to eat whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“Genuine greed,” Guy smiled knowingly.

Dillon nodded once again. “I mean, being fed by someone to the point of being absolutely stuffed just doesn’t appeal to me as much as the idea of just…”

“Letting go,” Guy finished for him. The idea was appealing, especially for Guy who had never been much of a feeder himself. He’d tried several times in the past to pretend that forcing food down a gainer’s throat turned him on. However, the reality had always been that he didn’t have the patience for it. Fattening, for him, was something a gainer should do in their own time. He only wanted to enjoy the horniness that derived from the evolving transformation. Not that he had ever come across a gainer who felt that way.

Dillon had had to grab and tug at his hardness. “Letting go,” he repeated. “That’s exactly it!”

Guy smiled, watching the lust taking over the pretty boy. “You know your job as a gardener will have to go, don’t you?” he asked. “If you want to grow your ass, you’re going to need something where you can sit down on it throughout the day.”

“You think I should quit my job?” Dillon asked, turned on that Guy had even remembered how he earned his living.

“Of course I do,” Guy chuckled back, still just watching as Dillon’s fantastic arousal sent him to higher and higher levels of submission to his kink. “Trust me, as a guy who has fucked so many fatties in my time, letting go is more than just eating. It’s about letting that entire softening process take over your body. Laziness. Lethargy.”

Dillon was tugging at himself at a faster rate than ever as Guy spoke. “I’m going to hand in my notice first thing tomorrow morning,” he declared, seeming to get closer to climaxing as the words left his mouth. “I’m actually going to do this!”

“Good boy!” Guy grinned, watching the kink consuming Dillon and sending him into a frenzy of lust. He didn’t even flinch as Dillon squealed and ejaculated all over the bedsheets in every direction. How fucking sexy! That shy, quiet guy back in the club now making a great mess and freeing his secret desires. There was simply nothing better.

Guy could have kicked himself for not giving Dillon his real number when he left. At least, he certainly thought that’s what he had done. It was a force of habit. As the weeks went on, he often thought back to Dillon, wondering what had become of him. There was no doubt in Guy’s mind that his date that night wouldn’t have actually started gaining. He was too pretty and far too reserved outside of the bedroom to actually do that to himself. Still, his kinkiness for it had given Guy a boner more than once when he’d thought back to their night together.

Months had gone by before Guy saw Dillon again. He’d actually been on a date with a girl from his new gym when he’d spotted Dillon working behind the bar at the club he had taken her to. He’d recognised the handsome face right away, but his breath caught in his chest when he took in the boy’s body. The fattening had clearly started. Dressed in a smart white shirt, the cheap material clung to the emerging love handles that puffed themselves over the tight waistband of Dillon’s pants. An overall thickness had spread into his stomach and chest, whilst a slight padding appeared to have amassed itself under his chin. It was a decent forty pound gain if ever Guy had seen one; no added muscle, just clear laziness and overindulgence.

Guy sat his date at a table and headed straight over to the bar, losing all interest in anything else. As he approached, he witnessed Dillon at the bar, turning around to the ice bucket and observed the beauty of his swollen glutes, rounded and bulbous, without taking on the complete broadness that came with the obesity that could come later. Having not been with any other men since their night together, Guy’s mind was able to return to the memory their night with ease; picturing those small, tight little glutes as they had been. Now his dick felt more alive than it had all evening, and when Dillon turned to serve him, Guy only had one question: “What time do you finish tonight?”

Dillon laughed and raised an eyebrow. “What about your date over there?” he asked, pointing across the room. He’d clearly spotted Guy from the moment he’d entered the bar.

Guy looked back as well. His date was pretty and surprisingly intelligent, judging by their conversations that evening. But it wasn’t her he wanted to take home that night. He turned back to Dillon and simply repeated his question.

Dillon seemed to consider it for a second. “Midnight,” he simply replied, knowing that Guy would be waiting outside to pick him up as soon as the clock struck twelve.

Getting rid of Guy’s date had been easy. He’d simply dialled back to flirtation and acted as a gentleman, taking her home with only a sweet kiss on her doorstep. Making her wait for a second date for anything more would only guarantee that she would be more eager next time.

“Well, well, well…” Guy grinned, leaning against the roof of his sports car as he witnessed an almost chubby-looking Dillon strolling out of the bar later that night. “Look at you!”

Dillon smiled and rubbed at his torso, seeing that they were going to bypass all the usual pleasantries. “I’m getting there,” he nodded. “It’s all just very slow. I feel like I should be bigger than this by now.”

Guy rocked his head to the side, inviting Dillon to climb into his car. Then the pair of them set off.

“I need to stop for something to eat first,” Dillon pointed, highlighting a fast food place only a few yards down the street.

Guy resisted sighing. He’d been waiting to get his hands on that bigger butt for some time. Now he had to wait whilst Dillon did the typically boring gainer stuffing? Nonetheless, he dutifully pulled over and followed the guy inside. He noticed a couple of the guys nodding at each other with a smirk at the sight of Dillon, as if they knew him all too well as a fixture around here. Then one attendant went to the cash register, bracing himself against it, as if preparing for something quite extreme from Dillon.

“Good evening,” he smiled dutifully. “What’ll it be tonight?”

A greedy little tongue slipped very subtly out of Dillon’s mouth, moistening his lips and he swallowed at the smell of everything cooking behind the counter. He began listing off a great number of items with ease that made Guy realise just how long they were going to be stuck here.

“Anything for you, Sir?” the young worker asked, seeming to know that everything that had come before it would be consumed entirely by Dillon.

Guy declined. He never ate at these sorts of places, but dutifully paid with his card, much like he would do with any of his dates. A great mountain of food began piling up on the tray and the two men soon retreated to a quiet table in the corner so that Guy could wait for Dillon to gorge himself.

“I see you quit the gardening job,” Guy smiled, appreciating how handsome Dillon looked in a shirt.

Dillon nodded; his eyes only on his food as he began throwing fries and nuggets into his mouth. “You were right. It was the perfect first step. I needed to cut the excessive calorie expenditure, day-to-day.”

Although Guy had come across more than a few gainers in his time, none of them had set about eating in the way that Dillon did. The boy seemed genuinely hungry, attacking the food in a cold and almost calculating manner, as if to ensure it was consumed in the most rapid way possible. He didn’t care that his mouth was sometimes full as he replied to their conversation, and he didn’t whimper with submission or lust as he started the third and then fourth burger. Nothing about the scenario was in any way theatrical, making this, by anyone’s standards, an act of pure greed. A chubby boy who simply loved his food.

“So that’s how I came to work at the bar,” Dillon finished fifteen minutes later, wiping his mouth with a napkin and sighing with relief as his stomach bloated more than ever before. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked, not even pausing to burp or appreciate his immense gluttony.

Unpeeling Dillon from his tight clothes that night had been one of the most erotic things Guy had done in years. A plush layer of fat had spread across the boy’s body, but pooled especially well in his love handles, chest and stomach. Guy growled with lust as he saw those doughy glutes and the pair set to pleasuring each other as if they had an expertise on how to make the other moan with lust.

Falling asleep with a hand resting on Dillon’s hip, Guy had felt more content than he had in quite some time. However, he awoke a couple of hours later, noticing that his date had slipped out unnoticed. He got up, pulling his underwear back on, just in case his roommate was sleeping there that night, even though he doubted that would be the case. Then he strolled into the living space hearing the sound of crunching over by the counter and the hunched silhouette of Dillion, sitting at a bar stool. He’d helped himself to a large bowl of sugary cereal that definitely didn’t belong to Guy and was busy munching away.

“It’s three in the morning!” Guy whispered, coming up behind the chubby boy, slipping his hands around his torso and kissing him on the side of his neck. “What are you doing up?”

Dillon chewed and swallowed. “I always get hungry at night,” he explained. “When I was growing up, my parents taught me to just ignore it. They said it wasn’t good for me to eat in the middle of the night. Now I don’t need to worry about that.”

Guy chuckled, nuzzling into Dillon even more and rubbing his protruding stomach. The more stories like this he heard, the more he realised that Dillon hah always been a fat boy, trapped in the body of a thin person. Slouched as he was now, his stomach fat seemed even more developed than Guy had realised, with his buttery nipples beginning to balloon and sag every so slightly onto the shelf below.

“Has anyone played with your tits yet?” Guy asked, beginning to massage them as Dillon resumed his eating. He’d remembered gainers telling him in the past how sensitive the nipples became as boys fattened up; he’d made more than one fatty climax simply by playing with them in the same way he would stimulate all the girls he had slept with.

Dillon moaned a little and twitched with stimulation. Guy could tell he’d never experienced anything like it before; perhaps not even realised that he had been developing such an erogenous zone. “That feels really nice,” he sighed, leaning back into Guy’s muscular chest.

“You wait until I have even more fat to play with here,” Guy teased. “If you think this feels good now…”

Dillon sighed with contentment at the idea. One thing was for certain: there was no way he was leaving without Guy’s real number that time.

“I want you to meet, Dillon,” Guy smiled, moving out of the way so that he could push Dillon forward. It had been a good few months since the last gainer event where Dillon had failed to make an impression. It was the reason why Guy had cleared his diary to make sure he could take him to this next one; holding his hand as they walked in.

Like a piece of meat, the eyes of all the men went up and down Dillon’s body. Guy stood back with pride. The boy’s love handles and protrusive stomach were some of his greatest features, but his butt too had developed a mass to it that was anything but athletic. However, more than anything else, the ring of freshly shaved fat that was starting to wrap itself under Dillon’s chin was undoubtedly the finest achievement of all. This wasn’t just a chubby boy they were dealing with; this was a true fat-boy glutton.

They hadn’t believed Guy when he’d explained how quickly Dillon had packed on his now eighty pounds of excess blubber, but the angry looking stretch marks surrounding Dillon’s belly button had gone some way to convincing them that he hadn’t just made it all up. Although he and Dillon were not officially an item at this event, Guy stuck close to him, feeling oddly protective. Usually, at events like these, Guy would have pulled his shirt off and enjoyed as much attention for his strapping body as possible. However, that night was all about Dillon and getting him connected with as many in the scene as possible.

Guy looked around seeing how many of the gainers and admirers were checking Dillon out; his handsome face and doughy body that seemed to cry out that this was a recent and rapid weight gain. Guy wanted them to look and see for themselves,but then another emotion began creeping in as well. Dillon was his discovery. He was the one who had helped him unleash the gainer and the one with a dominant hand on that big, wide rear. Why should anyone else feel they had a chance with him?

“So, how was it?” Guy asked afterwards, leading the way back to his car and secretly glad to be getting out of there’ especially after Dillon had told him he wanted to leave and get some food instead.

“Pretty great,” Dillon smiled, hopping into the passenger seat. “There were some very tight clothes on show though.”

Guy nodded. Dillon wasn’t the type to advertise his weight gain with figure hugging t-shirts or pants. “Well, some guys just like to show off,” he explained diplomatically. “Wearing tight clothes makes them feel even bigger and fatter than they are.”

Dillon nodded, noting some appeal in it. “But it’s just a fact of life,” he shrugged. “You overeat and your clothes get too small. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, really?” Guy laughed. “Just a fact of life, huh? Maybe I’ll say that to you next time I notice your dick getting even shorter,” he teased, having witnessed Dillon squirting everywhere even at the mere mention of the groin fat that was starting to take off down there. He leaned in and kissed the fat boy, letting his large hand slide down the protrusive tummy and in-between his legs. There it was, the ever shrinking hardness, ready to go yet again.

“A point well made,” Dillon smirked back in surrender.

Guy smiled and started the engine. He’d stop off at a fast food place and buy a load of stuff for Dillon to gorge himself on as he drove home. It was one of the things Guy liked best about him; Dillon didn’t need or want him forcing the food down his throat. He was more than capable of feeding his ravenous appetite himself. All Guy needed to do was place a gentle, encouraging hand on his thigh every now and then as he drove. Then, once they made it home, Dillon would be more than stuffed and wound up like a tightly coiled spring, bursting with arousal and more than ready to head straight to the bedroom with him.

“Who are you messaging?” Guy asked a few months later as he came in with a tray of breakfast pastries for his lover.

“No one,” shrugged Dillon, hastily dropping his cell phone in favor of the food.

Guy felt a little uncomfortable. It was a new feeling to him, this gnawing sense of jealousy. He’d first noticed it at the last gainer event they went to, and it had plagued his mind ever since. It was a selfish impulse, he reasoned. He himself had certainly got around with multiple people since he had started seeing Dillon. They were in no way exclusive and neither of them had ever expressed an interest in being so. So why did Guy have to fight back an unreasonable urge to check Dillon’s phone as the chub trotted off to the bathroom?

“I love having you here,” Guy whispered into Dillon’s ear as the pair still lay in bed, even as lunchtime approached. He had his hand draped over Dillon’s chubby belly and he rocked it, full of admiration for how much the guy had transformed himself in the last eighteen months. “How about you stay here tonight as well? We could watch a movie, order in some pizzas….”

“I can’t,” Dillon replied straight away. “I’m meeting up with a friend.”

Guy nodded. “Nice!” he smiled, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to pry. He didn’t have the right to feel the strange jealousy that had swept over him. “Are you up to something fun?”

Dillon nodded. “He’s going to teach me how to boost my capacity with pizza,” he chuckled, patting his large, padded stomach.

Guy nodded and pulled his lips back into a false smile, as if this all didn’t bother him, especially seeing Dillon getting aroused by just the idea of what was to come. “You’ve got to eat like a five hundred pound fatty if you hope to become one!” he nodded, repeating one of Dillon’s favorite mantras back to him whilst rubbing the boy’s rounded stomach.

Although the opportunity to work in London had been something Guy had wanted ever since he had joined his company, the month-long placement couldn’t have come at a worse time in his eyes. As Dillon became more involved with other gainers, Guy felt like he was less important in the man’s life. He was also going to be away when Dillon finally started his new office job and disliked the thought of missing out on such an important step in his lover’s life.

The girls in London had a sexy, alluring sophistication about them. However, no matter how many of them he bedded, Guy’s mind kept thinking of Dillon. He felt utterly smitten, messaging him as much as he could, always eager for updates.

Guy had been a victim of his own success. The project he had started at work began to take on a life of its own, building incredible momentum. He remembered the bittersweet feeling when he realised he was going to be away far longer than the original month he had planned. However, by the end of the fourth month, Guy knew that the scheme was ready to be handed over; with plenty of scope for him to implement similar changes back home.

With a week off from work after getting back, Guy headed straight over to see Dillon. He carried with him a large bag filled with treats and presents from London and was excited to see how the fattening man was going to react to them all. He knocked on the apartment door, his breath catching in his throat with anticipation.

Suddenly, Dillon was standing there looking remarkably changed. The fat under his neck had swollen immensely, giving Dillon one of the largest double chins he’d seen on a gainer of his size in quite some time. His beautiful eyes had seemed smaller, as large, puffy cheeks dominated his face and his plump, kissable lips now looked like the gateway to a greedy, gluttonous mouth that would consume anything it came across.

The pair hugged and kissed; Guy’s hands roaming across all areas of the remarkably fatter and softer body. Lard had spilled into areas where Guy had never seen it before. Dillon spun around and posed for him, excited by his own remarkable transformation. With a desk job, the gainer’s glutes had seemed to shed all remaining muscle and bloat with pure blubber. He wanted it touched, handled and jiggled, directing an already aroused Guy on how best to experience the new softness. Three hundred and eighty pounds had never seemed so erotic when the person carrying it all loved it so much.

“I was half expecting you to have gained a few pounds after working so hard in London all those months,” Dillon chuckled, gazing upon the immortal physical perfection of Guy; unchanged.

Guy slipped off his underwear and delighted in taking the kinky boy into his bedroom for a session he would never forget.

Being intimate with Dillon had cemented the feelings Guy had had during their separation. He was in love with him; utterly and completely: the easy way they communicated, the confidence with which they both held their vastly contrasting bodies. Dillon was touched by the gifts and how much Guy had remembered about his tastes and interests. Guy held him sweetly as the both drifted off to sleep.

“I’ve been thinking,” Guy began, feeling decidedly nervous later that night. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“So do I…” Dillon smiled back, acting as if he knew exactly what Guy was going to say.

“I know you’re doing so well with your weight gain now,” Guy smiled, unable to resist rubbing the fattened gut in appreciation; marvelling at the sagging nipples that had bounced and jumped the entire time Guy had been fucking him. “Your next milestone is so close. But, how would you feel about hitting four hundred… in London?”

“In London?” Dillon parroted back in surprise.

“They made me quite the lucrative offer before I left. I don’t have to take it, of course, but… come on! Don’t you think it would be so exciting?” he cheered, smiling brightly. “You and me, living in London together? All those restaurants and famous landmarks? I thought of all the places I want to take you. You can grow enormous there. I can give you everything you want. You don’t even need to work, given how much they want to pay me.”

“Guy, this is...” Dillon mumbled, overwhelmed.

“I know, I know… this is huge! But these last four months without you…” he sighed, remembering how utterly miserable he’d been at times. He’d only felt this way about one other person in his life, and he had lost out because he had never managed to build up the courage to say how he felt. Not this time…

“Yeah, it was a long time,” Dillon agreed, unprepared for what Guy was about to say to him next.

“I’m in love with you!” Guy blurted, staring deeply into Dillon’s eyes and wrapping his large hands around his bloated face.

Dillon was stunned into silence. “Guy.. that’s amazing… that’s…” he stumbled.

“You don’t feel the same way…” Guy sighed in stark realisation.

“Well, it’s not as black and white as that…” Dillon mumbled on, clearly trying to catch his brain up with his mouth. “I think it could really work, us living together in London. I really do! But I have so much going on here now. I’m having so much fun supporting other gainers. You not being around gave me time to really lean in hard to all this. It’s the reason why I already broke my desk chair at work,” he chuckled, mentioning it for the third time since Guy had arrived.

“You didn’t miss me?” Guy shot back, feeling like his heart was about to be shattered.

“I did!” Dillon replied unconvincingly. “I was just…” he rambled, still figuring out what he wanted to say. He sighed deeply. “If I’m honest… I was just a little disappointed that you didn’t come back from London a little heavier than when you left.”

Guy looked down at his flat, chiselled stomach. “What?” he blasted.

“I’ve wanted you to gain weight for the longest time. I thought, the more we hung out together, the more likely it would be for my bad habits to rub off on you.”

Guy sat back a little, rethinking everything he thought he knew about Dillon.

“I’m not the only one,” Dillon marched on. “All the gainers we’ve met together say the same thing. We all can’t wait for you to give up the gym and start pushing out a gut.”

“Is that so?” Guy huffed back.

“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’d look so fucking hot! You’ve got the build for it. If we moved to London, I could make you huge!”

Guy stood up and started dressing, suddenly realising how badly he had misread his relationship with Dillon. “Gaining is your thing, not mine,” he explained calmly. “I like the way I look and I fell for you because I loved giving you the sort of confidence that I feel in my own skin.”

“But, trust me… when you start putting on your first few pounds…” Dillon retorted, like an all-knowing sage.

“It’s not me!” Guy shot back, cutting him short. “And you’d know that had you been paying any attention at all to me over the last couple of years.” He felt a sudden surge of annoyance. “Tell me… where did I grow up? What’s my middle name? When’s my birthday? Where did I go to college?”

Dillon looked blankly back. He really didn’t remember the answer to any of those questions. And so he watched as Dillon slipped his shirt on, then made his way out of the apartment for the last time.

“Jeff…” Guy said down the phone the moment he made it down the stairs. “I’m sorry to call when it’s so early in the morning there. I wanted to tell you that I’ve thought about your offer…” he explained.

Guy took a breath. This was a huge decision that would change everything.

“I accept,” he stated with absolute certainty. “How soon do you want me back in London?”

#gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainerfic #gayfeedee #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainer fic

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cursedhaglette · 21 hours ago

Note

Solavellan fic recs please I’m so hungry 🥺🥺

oh I'd love to provide! these have been my personal favorites so far (also fair warning, I am a solavellan fucked in DAI truther and that is reflected in my choices below so your mileage may vary)

Everything by niceasspavus - especially their fic Servitude which is an absolute masterwork. The prose is succinct but spectacular, the smut is excellent and never feels out of place (smut sometimes can with solavellan okay) and they dig into Solas' mind in a really beautiful way. They also started a modern AU fic and while that's not usually my trope at all, I've actually read what they have posted so far like three times because it's so good. Can't wait to see if they grace us with more.

Fellchaser by @rosieofcorona - Okay make that literally anything Darcy touches I recommend but Fellchaser is...I want to plaster my walls with it. The walls of my mind prison at least. The first time I read it, I literally read it five times back to back to back (I was admittedly very high but that's NOT THE POINT) because I was so taken with the prose and every detail. It is absolute perfection, seriously, the only thing wrong with it is that it isn't 100k words

What He Wouldn't Give by sugarhihello - a devastating take what happens immediately after the Crestwood scene we know and hate to love. I'm scared of writers who can make me want more of a scene like that and yet this fic gives me that

The Waiting by say_lene - solavellan thigh riding, need I say more?

Even Gods Need Miracles by callmebecks - A study of Solas' mindset from DAI to now include the DAV ending.

A Field as Wild as Your Heart by lillith_morgana - An exceptional take on the solavellan ending/post-DAV with gorgeous prose

Dreadful Recollections by @scaryanneee - if you know me from the bg3 era at all, you know Think of Me is a smut of all time so scaryanne joining us in solavellan hell has been SO FUN (for me personally at least eheheh) This little smut is so brilliant because it truly gave me so many ideas to play with for my own ship during this time period while also being so hot??? Also just read the tags on this and you know you're in for a great time

Handle With Care by feynite - I'm sure you've seen feynite if you've looked at solavellan fics because Looking Glass is the biggest one but I think this is just a really excellent little fic of theirs. Sad AND sexy - what every Solas fan is looking for I think

solavellan moots, please feel free to add on - I'm always looking for more and I'm sure others are too! anon - hope this gave you some tasty morsels and feel free to come back if you need more! xoxox

#fic recs #solavellan fic recs #solavellan hell #asks #solas x lavellan #solas dragon age #solas x inquisitor #solavellan #dragon age

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to-the-stars8 · 3 days ago

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The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Runaways

You didn’t know how to explain to Mr. Wayne that his two sons, Jason and Duke, snuck out of the house in search of you.

You had taken the day off to attend your friend’s wedding, which had been fun until your third drink. No sooner had you tipped the glass to your lips did a little old lady tap you on the shoulder saying that two young men were looking for you. Intrigued by the prospect of being sought out by handsome men, you followed her to an empty room. There, the boys were sitting and eating away at some cake.

It took you a few moments to realize that they were there all by themselves, and all at once shock mixed with panic rushed through you. Once the relief of finding them alright had passed, you scolded them to the point that both boys were in near tears. Between long lectures you would pull them into hugs, saying how glad you were that they were alright.

“Oh, what were you thinking!” You exclaimed when you let them go. “You could have gotten lost or kidnapped. Mr. Wayne would have my head—Mr. Wayne! The man is going to have a stroke.”

When you went to find a phone, Duke burst into tears as he mumbled that he didn’t want to get into trouble. Jason, as he tried to comfort his brother, had started to cry, too. By the time you returned, the pair could hardly string a sentence along together without hyperventilating. Even when you assured them that everything would be okay, they still refused to calm down. You had hoped that maybe seeing their father would help them, but he had made the situation worse. Mr. Wayne had come barreling through the doors already demanding to know what had crossed their minds to do such a thing.

“Don’t shout,” You snapped, stroking Jason’s hair and rubbing Duke’s back. “They already know they’re in trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason gasped out between heavy breaths as he reached out for his father. Bruce didn’t let his anger stop him from pulling the boy into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He pulled Duke from your arms toward him, mumbling to his boys that he was glad that they were safe.

“I—I’m sorry, Dad,” Duke cried. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You shushed him before suggesting to Mr. Wayne that the four of you go outside to the car lest curious guests look in. He seemed to quietly fight the idea at first, wanting an explanation no matter who watched but gave in at the sight of his poor boys. You carried Duke while Bruce carried Jason, who was looking over his father’s shoulder at you.

There was little hassle getting them buckled into the car since Bruce had threatened them with an even bigger punishment if they didn't behave from that moment on. You knew he wouldn’t, but the threat had sounded real enough for them to comply. As soon as you began closing the car door Duke kicked his foot to stop it.

Duke, weeping, said, “No! Stay!”

You had tried to explain that you couldn’t, that you needed to stay for the rest of your friend’s wedding, but they weren’t listening. Finally, you asked, “Why are you two acting this way? I was coming home later tonight!”

Jason, who was a bit more coherent, said, “Dick said you don’t love us, and you only spend time with us because you get paid.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you shot a look over at Mr. Wayne. “Do you wanna have that talk with Richard when you get home, or would you rather it be me?” Bruce only sighed before turning his back to you and the boys. Shaking your head, you said, “I get paid to watch you kids, yes, but that does not mean I don't love you.”

“Really?” Jason asked.

You kissed his forehead and said, “Really.” Tugging at the buckles of the car seats, you made sure they were secure. “Be good for your Dad. You guys gave him quite a scare.”

“Okay,” They said in unison.

Once the car door swung shut, you looked at Mr. Wayne with a coy smile. He only returned the light-hearted gesture by narrowing his eyes and frowning.

“Don’t lie to my kids like that. I don’t want you hurting their feelings,” He said as he rounded the car to the driver’s side.

“I wasn’t,” You tried to say, but he had already started the car. You didn’t know if it was the drink or your annoyance of his hot and cold temper towards you. It made you want to scream at him, to get him to stop shoving whatever feelings he had with having a nanny, and to say them to you outright. Instead of going to him, you decided to go back into the venue for another drink.

You told yourself you hadn’t meant to drink as much as you did, but you couldn’t help it when the wedding was getting to be so much fun. The drama had gotten heated, the bar was endless, and it only doomed you from there. By the end of it, you were sober enough to call a cab yet not to walk in a straight line or not slur your words. When you returned to Wayne Manor you tried to be quiet getting in, but that only resulted in you running into the entranceway table. After skillfully saving a vase from toppling over, you began to remove your coat.

“When did coats get to be so hard to take off,” You mumbled to yourself, trying to shrug off your jacket, but it had gotten caught on your purse.

“Are you okay,” A voice asked.

Jumping, you tried to whip around to see who it was but tripped on your own feet. Luckily, hands caught you before you could fall to the floor. Looking up, you noticed it was Mr. Wayne, and you loathed to see him.

“I’m fine,” You said, standing straight. “Thank you.”

“You’re drunk,” He pointed out like you didn’t already know. You rolled your eyes before trying to get your coat off again, but you only ended up stumbling right into Mr. Wayne’s chest. Mumbling an apology, you started to try again before he told you to stop. Mr. Wayne then slowly took off your purse and took your coat, throwing them on the table. “Come on.”

You hadn’t expected him to loop an arm around your waist and help you up the stairs. He was kind about it, too, which left you even more confused. “I love the kids, you know.”

“What?” Mr. Wayne asked, his tone mixed with genuine confusion and irritation.

You gulped. “Earlier you said not to lie about loving the kids, but I wasn’t lying.”

He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he would just leave it there. But, after you made it up to the first landing of the stairs, he said, “I know. It’s…I don’t want my kids getting hurt if things go bad. Do you understand?”

“I do,” You grumbled, swaying a bit. His grip tightened around your waist and he pulled you more into him. “You’re a good father. I’d like to have you as my dad.”

He managed a smile. “A lot of people would.”

You giggled before you hiccuped. When you looked back up at Mr. Wayne to see if he noticed, he was holding back a chuckle. You groaned, before saying, “I didn’t mean to come home this way.”

“Yes, you did,” He corrected and the two of you finally made it to the first floor. “But, don’t worry about it. You’re good at your job, and this isn’t an often occurrence.”

“Plus, it’s my day off,” You added.

He agreed with you that it was, indeed, your day off. When the two of you had made it to your bedroom door, there was a brief pause as Mr. Wayne considered whether or not it would be appropriate for him to enter your room. After you failed to open the door, he decided that no harm would be done. You fell onto the bed before kicking off your heels with a satisfied groan.

Bruce was going to leave you until you called out, “Mr. Wayne.” He stopped, kneeling over you as you spoke. Your eyes were closed and you were slurring through every word.“Are Duke and Jason okay?”

It was sweet that you still were concerned for them. “They were upset when they got their games taken away.”

“Jason will be fine. He never played games much.”

“That’s why I told him no new books for a month.” Bruce paused before adding, “I apologize for saying you didn’t love the kids.”

You opened your eyes and smiled. “Apology accepted, but just this once…We’re friends, you know? Even though you’re my boss. I won’t betray you. I pinky promise on my life. We’re in this together, old man.”

Bruce tried not to dwell too much on the old man part of your sentiment. “Thank you, Nan. I appreciate that.”

“Very good, Mr. Wayne,” You said. “Good night.”

He was going to take that as his cue to leave the conversation, but your drunken brain had other ideas. You were quick to lean up and peck him on the lips before he even had a chance to say goodnight. All at once he felt a range of emotions; confusion, surprise, and embarrassment. You were so nonchalant about the whole situation, probably not having realized it had happened, that you simply turned over to sleep. Quickly, Bruce used that as an excuse to not bring it up since you were more than likely not to remember it by the next morning.

Right as he was going to step out the door, you called him back. He poked his head into your room again and felt his heart flush when you asked, “Did I just kiss you?”

For his sake and yours, he answered, “No.”

You hummed before dropping your head back onto the pillow. Closing the door, Bruce reminded himself that the last thing he needed to be doing was thinking about an employee in such a romantic way.

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batfamily #romance #dick grayson #clark kent #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #batman #cassandra cain #slow burn #duke thomas #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #the nanny au

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novvabee · 1 day ago

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The Wrong Color

Summary: poly!jegulily x reader, Y/N and Lily wear the boys jerseys at the Gryffindor vs Slytherin game.

cw: suggestive

word count: 1.3k

The lovely Scottish morning light was always so peaceful when it glowed through the black lake and the Slytherin dorm room windows. The light fractured and bloomed along the green bed sheets you were tangled in. It would have been perfect, if only your boyfriend wasn’t running around the room looking for all his quidditch gear.

Regulus always gets like this before games, but especially games against your rival house, the house that your other boyfriend and girlfriend are a part of; Gryffindor. You love the other half of your relationship, but man, could they be annoying. You liked the rivalry, it made things fun, especially since it was two against two, you and Regulus, and Lily and James.

Regulus was worked up last night, meaning you two didn’t get much sleep, meaning you both woke up late and now he was rushing to get to breakfast before the match.

“You know this is your fault right?” he explained to you. “If you hadn’t stayed the night-”

“My fault?” you interrupted sounding amused. “If I’m remembering correctly, it was you begging ‘please please, I’ll do anything-”

It was his turn to interrupt you, this time with a kiss. He broke away and smiled down at you. He looked godly in this light.

“You'll be in the stands cheering for me today right?” he asked, the smile still lingering on his lips.

“Of course not! You know I can't play favorites,” you explained “Plus why would I? I hate you.” You said, joking of course.

He raised his brows and cocked his head to the side. “Oh really? Was that hatred last night?” he asked before kissing you again, laying you back on the bed and climbing on top of you.

You really wish you could stay like this, but you giggled and pushed him off, swatting at his arm saying “You’re already late! Go!”

He took your command and breezed out the door of his unshared dorm room, a perk of being a prefect.

Right, now it was your turn to get dressed, only you and Lily had been scheming. You were going to show up in James’s spare Gryffindor jersey, and Lily in Regulus’s. You had always just worn your own house colors or the correlating boy's extra jerseys, but you and Lily wanted to see their reactions.

You pulled on the red and gold, pairing it with some jeans and converse, a very casual, very James look. You looked at yourself in the mirror, it felt so unnatural, but that was the fun of it.

You met Lily outside your common room before heading to the stands to get a good seat.

Seeing her in the green and black jersey was odd, but she was striking, as always. The green brought out the colors in her eyes, making her red hair stand out even more. She was gorgeous.

“You look good in green.” you blushed as you told her.

She scoffed as she took you in. “You look good in red,” she said. “Come on, we should get going before all the front row seats are taken,” she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side and kissing your temple.

You two caught up with Marlene and Dorcas, both sporting their own house colors, Marlene in her own jersey, and looked at you and Lily in slight bewilderment.

“Uh, I think you two grabbed the wrong tops when dressing this morning.” Marlene examined, raising an eyebrow at the pair of you.

You looked at Lily, then back at your friends. “Huh, guess we were rushing.” you said, smirking. Lily nudged you with her hip, but the four of you continued on walking to the pitch.

Once there, you had gone right up to your usual spot, Peter had dutifully saved you all seats. You took yours, front and center, and waited for Lily to return from the concessions stand with the butterbeer you asked for.

You turned and made small conversations with Peter about the previous quidditch matches and yesterday's boring potions lecture.

“Oh, uh… by the way, what’s with the uh,” Peter said pointing to your choice of jersey.

“Just wanted to be supportive, that’s all,” you said with a fake tone of innocence.

He chuckled. “Yes but, on today of all days? They might just knock each other off their brooms.”

“Oh don’t worry, Pete,” you said, “Lily is in Regulus’s.”

All of your friends knew about your relationship, and were happy for you all. They never judged or misunderstood anything, something that your entire group of friends was known for, being accepting and understanding of all types of love.

They did, however, love to see the games the four of you played with each other. You four were known to prank and tease and provoke each other, but it was always in good fun and always stemming from the house rivalry. Other than that, the four of you didn’t play when it came to your relationship, you were wholly devout to each other, no matter what house you may belong to.

Lily came up the stands, promised butterbeer in hand, and sat herself right next to you. She had perfect timing, the boys were about to start playing.

James zoomed by on his broom, Regulus hot on his tail, warming up and having some fun teasing each other before the real game starts.

“Gyffindor has this in the bag.” Lily announced to all of your friends.

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure Slytherin has the better record this year.” you replied and shot her a devious smile.

“Remind me, who won the cup last year?” she questioned, giving you the same deviousness. You replied by playfully rolling your eyes, hitting her knee with your own.

The high pitched whistle sounded, signaling the start of the game. It was an intense, brutal rush of back and forth. Both teams playing hard, fighting for the win and the glory that comes along with it. The game turned dirty and aggressive almost immediately.

The match was tied, coming down to the final moments when you watched both your boyfriends diving and spinning toward the ground before pulling up at the last minute. They were no doubt chasing after the tiny golden snitch.

You leaped to your feet, tracking them both the whole way. James was reaching out his hand, the snitch almost within grasp when Regulus suddenly slammed into his side, knocking James away, putting himself closer to the snitch instead. James didn’t take this lightly, he zoomed back to Regulus’s side and the two shoved and shoved. You would have been more concerned, but this is exactly how each match ended, the two of them fighting for the golden ball.

The boys rerouted their course, heading straight over the section both you and Lily were sitting in. This must have been some sort of plan devised by Regulus, because this change made James’s gaze slip, fall to both Lily wearing Slytherin green and you in Gryffendor red with big yellow block letters spelling out ‘POTTER’.

This slight break in attention, the hesitation, allowed Regulus to capture the snitch while his opponent was distracted.

You cheered and hugged Dorcas, feeling prideful for your house’s big victory, Regulus taking a lap around the pitch. Lily cheered as well, not as much as you of course, not wanting to admit defeat, but still proud of her boy. You took her by the hand and pulled her along down to the field to meet your boys.

James met you first, flying down a bit disappointed, but obviously happy for Regulus. He spotted you and immediately hugged you. This sweet gesture was a guise, pulling you close to his body only to whisper “This is your fault you know,” into your ear.

You giggled. “Believe it or not, that is not the first time I have heard that sentence today.” you said, pulling away and looking up at him. He had that smirk, that look spread across his face, one that often came after he lost. Perhaps you wouldn’t get much sleep tonight either.

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pipsyy · 2 days ago

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detestable...

enemies to lovers dom!hamzah x f!reader

hi everyone! i have had the most absolutely terrible writer's block recently, which is why this fic has taken so long. but i hope you enjoy regardless! please send me reqs if you have them!

summary: y/n absolutely hates hamzah, detests him, actually. until one day, when that undeniable feeling of angers burns into an even hotter flame.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTING SMUT SMOT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

word count: 3066

You loved your life. Your home, your animals, your friends, your youtube channel, everything. There was nothing about your life that irked you. Except for one thing. Him. Hamzah. You had become friends with Mandy over two years ago, over similar interests and styles of youtube channels, and had met Hamzah about six months into your friendship with her. You had never met somebody like him before. You got along with everyone, even if they slightly pissed you off, you were able to stomach their presence and create minimal amounts of respectable small talk. But not with Hamzah. In fact, when you were first invited over to Mandy’s house for a party and heard he was going to be there, you were excited. You had seen his online presence and thought he was funny, charming, and kind, only to find out upon meeting him that the complete opposite was the truth. He was awkward, and weird, and nothing at all like you thought he would be. The two of you were unable to mesh a single comfortable conversation together and, since then, you had effectively avoided him like the plague.

The angry tension between the two of you finally exploded one Friday night. You had been invited to dinner at Mandy’s house, and you were ecstatic. You imagined your night playing out with the two of you cooking and baking delicious food, sharing some with Martin in his man-cave, then diving into the delicacies in front of a cozy fall movie. What you did not expect was Hamzah to be there.

“Hey, y/n!” Mandy said excitedly, as she opened the door and welcomed you into her home. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Oh my god,” you said, grasping her hands in yours. “You have no idea! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” You took your shoes off before following the brunette into the kitchen. The two of you were laughing and talking until you stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen, starting out towards the living room. Two male heads were positioned together on the couch, one with straight, almost black, locks and the other with luscious, dark curls. You would recognize those curls anywhere. Shit.

You grabbed Mandy by her forearm and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know he would be here.”

“Who?” she asked cluelessly, swiveling her head to where your wide-eyed gaze was fixated upon. “Oh, right…Hamzah. Martin and him filmed a video today and he’s not leaving until later. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really tried to get him out of the house, but he insisted on staying for dinner.” You knew that Hamzah liked to rile you up, he made it abundantly clear whenever the two of you would have a conversation.

“He just wants to piss me off,” you responded. “It’s okay. We can just ignore them and have fun.” Mandy smiled at you. The two of you began gathering items and ingredients from around the kitchen to make the dinner. You had decided on making fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken over text with pumpkin cream cheese cupcakes for dessert. The two of you labored over the pasta for almost an hour, laughing and giggling over every single thing. The boys mainly kept to themselves, occasionally laughing softly at the game they were playing on the TV. You paused from stirring the cheesy sauce, simmering softly in the pan.

“You can go ahead and combine this sauce with the pasta, Mandy,” you said, nudging the brunette girl with your elbow. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick.” You went to the bathroom down the hall and completed your business, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. As you exited the bathroom, you ran right into a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. You look up, an apology bubbling from your lips, until you meet a pair of wide, dark eyes: Hamzah. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Your lips curl into a sneer, the close proximity of him causing hot, red anger to flare in your chest. The two of you attempt to get around each other, moving in sync. This annoying act continued until Hamzah’s large hands grip your waist and practically lifted you up, moving you out of his way. He continued down the hallway to the guest room without looking back, leaving you stunned into silence in the middle of the hallway. Your waist tingled lightly where his hands had touched you. The way his large hands were able to almost completely engulf your waist, followed by how effortlessly he had lifted you, caused inappropriate, unwanted thoughts to flow through your mind. You shook your head, internally scolding yourself for your rash behavior. When you reunited with Mandy in the kitchen, she gave you a confused look.

“You okay?” she asked. No doubt your silent demeanor and red face giving away some of your internal embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, unconvincingly.

“You sure?” she pressed. “I saw Hamzah leave and I just thought–”

“Yes!” you snapped, cutting her off. “I am perfectly fine.” You ran a hand through your hair and Mandy laughed, shaking her head at your idiocy.

“If you say so, girl.” The night continued smoothly once you had calmed yourself down from your strained interaction with Hamzah. The pasta was cheesy and delicious, followed by the brownies which were sweet and rich with chocolate. Mandy shared the brownies with the two boys, Martin full of compliments and praise for the two of you, while Hamzah enjoyed his in silence, glancing at you every so often with a wide-eyed stare that made you feel both uncomfortable and anxious. Throughout the night, Martin and Mandy exchanged coy looks, giggling under their breath at something that seemed to you like an inside joke, but you were unsure. Finally, you reached your breaking point, and blurted out your confusion at the couple’s strange attitude.

“What the hell are you two plotting?” you asked. The couple exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other.

“Plotting?” Mandy repeated. “We’re not plotting anything.”

“I know you are,” you said.

To your utter surprise, Hamzah chimed in in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of brownie. “You’re both acting so weird. What’s going on?”

Mandy gave Martin another weird look, the two nodding at each other in joint agreement. “Well…” Mandy said. “There’s this movie that Martin and I have been dying to see and it comes out today. We’re going to leave to see it now.”

“And we know that the two of you have some unsettled differences,” Martin chimed in. “So while we go out to see this movie, the two of you are going to stay here and figure them out.”

“Are you serious, Mandy?” you said, exasperation at this situation obvious in your voice. You glanced at Hamzah who had undeniable shock plastered all over his face. “No…” you said, as the couple began to pack up their things and pull their shoes on in quick succession. “No, no, you’re not doing this.”

“We’ll just leave the house, Martin,” Hamzah said.

“We’re locking the two of you in,” the brunette replied. “You’re not getting out this easy. The way you two absolutely despise each other pisses us off. So, you’re both not leaving until you have established some sort of mutual camaraderie or something like it. Understand?” You and Hamzah stood up from the table in protest, but it was too late, Mandy and Martin left the house in sync, locking the door from the outside. The two of you were trapped, together and alone, for an uncomfortable, inestimable amount of hours. You let out a sigh of pure frustration, understanding that the following couple of hours were going to be the most uncomfortable and angry you had felt in a while.

“Well, shit,” Hamzah said, sitting back down and folding his arms across his broad chest.

You rolled your eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you said. “There’s no way I’m doing this.” You get up and pace the wooden floor, head lowered as you think of all the ways you could escape Hamzah and his brown-eyed gaze that you could feel following your every move.

“Oh, come on,” he said, standing up from his seat. He moved in front of you, blocking your path, looking down at you with a facetious smirk that boiled your blood. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, maneuvering around the larger man. “It can and it is.” Hamzah reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed your forearm. The slight touch sent undeniable shivers down your spine, which you hated. He turned you around to face him, the two of you inches from one another. You gazed down at his hand, still wrapped around your forearm.

“Am I really that detestable to you, y/n?” he asked, voice at a decibel so low you had to crane your ears to even hear him. The inches between the two of you began closing, his eyes—so brown they looked black—drawing you closer. Dark, seductive images flitted through your mind: Hamzah’s large hands gripping your waist, his lips on your neck, hands fisting your hair, gripping your throat, touching your cunt. Shocked, you wretch your forearm out of his grasp.

“Yes,” you breathed out, chest heaving, mind reeling from your stupid imagination and wandering mind. “You are that detestable.”

“Really?” Hamzah asked, voice no louder than a whisper. You realized as your back hit the wall that he had backed you into a both physical and mental corner. You gulped as he drew closer and closer. “Because—I think—you like to think of me as something more than just detestable.”

“I don’t like to think of you at all, Hamzah,” you said, skin burning as his dark eyes remained locked on yours, unyielding in their direct gaze.

“You don’t?” he said, scoffing. He leaned closer, lips practically brushing yours. His large hands maneuver to grip your waist, and you don’t even try to stop him. “Not at all, huh. Not even at night, when you’re alone in your bed.” His grip on your waist tightened and shockwaves of undeniable pleasure flash through your spine like needles. “Cause I do. All the fucking time.” You look up at him, eyes widened in shock. He curses, the grip on your waist tightening so hard you thought it would bruise. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough and gravely. “Don’t fucking look at me like that…or I’m going to do something we both will regret.”

You had never expected to feel this way about Hamzah. But seeing him—a man so stupid and narcissistic and haughty—reduced to this…reduced to a quivering mess of a man with needy desperation written all over him, you felt that you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered as your core tightened. Your back brushed the wall and Hamzah leaned impossibly closer, chest brushing against your own.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” You froze, the repeated words brushing your lips, bubbling up inside you. But you couldn’t lie. You couldn’t say them. For deep down inside you, in a place you had buried since you got to know him, lay the dirty, red-hot truth. You wanted him too, equally as bad. Your shaking hands, puppeteered not by your brain, but by that stupid feeling deep in your heart, reached up to intertwine behind Hamzah’s neck, grasping at the delicate curls at his nape. Hamzah’s eyes widened at the realization that you weren’t backing away.

“I can’t,” you confessed. Hamzah, lips quivering with desire, leaned closer, brushing your soft and plush mouth with his own. Unable to contain your palpitating desire, you tightened your grip on his curls and pulled him into you, pressing your lips violently together. Your lips locked together, a wet mess of tongue and spit as you desperately clung to each other. Hamzah’s hands ran up and down your body, unsure of what part of you he wanted to touch first, desperate for everything, all at once. He separated from your lips, and you let out a needy, unfiltered whine at the lack of contact. Hamzah began kissing down your neck, suckling on that sweet spot behind your ear that made you cry out in pleasure.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, in between open-mouthed kisses planted on your neck. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.” You whimpered at the blunt confession, hands yanking at his curls. His hands grabbed at your ass, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hamzah roughly pushed you up against the wall, lips connecting with your own again. You yanked at his t-shirt and he paused his motions, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. You came face-to-face with his body, ribbed and muscular from his time in the gym, while also maintaining enough tummy to make your thighs squeeze together. You mirror his movements, pulling your tanktop off and shucking your sweats down your legs, leaving you in your bra and underwear. Hamzah looks at you starstruck.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, reaching to grasp at your covered tits. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.” You giggled slightly, a gesture that never occurred to you would happen with Hamzah. Hamzah sunk down to his knees, leaving little kisses along your stomach and the underside of your tits. Kissing and biting your inner thighs, he dragged your underwear down your legs, mouth agape as you came face-to-face with your soaking cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and you felt your knees weaken. Hamzah grabbed one of your thighs after the other, wrapping your legs around his shoulders practically sitting on him, leaning against the wall. He continued to leave little kisses along your legs, suckling purple bruises onto your inner thighs.

“Hamzah–” you whine, tightening your grip in his curls.

“Use your words, y/n,” he said, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.

“I need you,” you say, your desperation overwhelming your embarrassment and confusion. Hamzah smirked up at you, before shoving his head deep between your thighs. He licked a long strip up your folds, holding eye contact with you, before circling his tongue around your clit. As his tongue connected with your sensitive bud, you let out a long moan, head tilting back against the wall. Hamzah ate you out like it was his last meal, licking, sucking, and slurping your juices in a constant state of desperation for more. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening his hair as his nose rubbed deep into your clit. You came with a cry, legs shaking around his head as you shuddered and convulsed, white spots bedazzling your vision.

Hamzah lifted you up, wrapping your legs back around his waist and kissed you, mouth stained with your juices. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the feel of his tongue poking its way into your mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea how bad I wanted you.”

“Hamzah—” you panted. “I need you inside of me.” He reached down into his pants, pulling out his hard member, stroking it a few times before rubbing it up and down your wet folds. He slid into you with a gasp, the two of you moaning at the feel of him sheathed inside of you. He began slowly thrusting in and out of you, the stretch of his thick cock inside your cunt drawing whimpers from deep in your throat. While your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, Hamzah never broke eye contact.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he said. “You hate me, huh?”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah, you hate me…but you’re still here, being fucked by this cock, huh?” You couldn’t respond, the only sound flowing from you being heady whines and high-pitched moans. You felt yourself inching closer towards another release, one of your hands reaching between your legs to rub your clit. One of Hamzah’s hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly, you realized with a jolt that he was holding you up with one hand. The fact that this man could hold you up and fuck you so good with just the strength of one arm made your core tighten.

“I–I’m gonna cum, Hamzah,” you manage to cry out, dangerously tipping on the precipice of release.

“Oh, yeah?” Hamzah responded breathlessly. “You gonna cum, baby? Shit. Cum for me, pretty girl.” You cum with a strangled yelp falling from your lips.

“Good girl,” Hamzah moaned out, hips beginning to stutter. “Good girl, so pretty, so fucking pretty for me.” Your hands grabbed onto his curls tightly, yanking as you came down from your high. The feel of his dark strands being pulled so tightly sent Hamzah over the edge. Hips stuttering as he came, head buried deep into your neck, he let out a flurry of whimpers and praises. The two of you sat there for a minute, Hamzah breathing heavily into your neck. Just then, you heard the jangle and clank of keys outside of the door. Hamzah’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and fear.

“Shit,” you say. Untangling your limbs, the two of you rushed to dress in five seconds flat. You threw yourselves onto the couch, sitting on opposite ends just as Mandy and Martin opened the door and returned.

“The cinema was closed, guys,” Martin announced as he took off his coat and boots, Mandy close behind him. “Did you at least make up though?”

“Yeah, we did,” Hamzah responded, voice still rough and breathless. The couple finally came into your view, cheeks and ears red from the outside wind. You knew that the two of you were a strange sight: clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something dirtier. You also knew that, ever the observer, it would be Mandy to notice.

“Oh my god!” she said, covering her shocked face with a hand. “OH MY GOD, MARTIN!” She yanked on his sleeve, jumping up and down.

“What?!” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

“They fucked, holy shit, they fucked,” she laughed and giggled, jumping up and down with glee. “You owe me a hundred dollars, Martin.”

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x reader smut #hamzah x y/n #hamzah x you #hamzahfic #hamzahimagines #hamzahthefantastic x reader #slushynoobz #youtube #pleaseineedhimsobadithurts

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i-may-be-an-emu · 1 day ago

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SFTH FAQ and Info Masterpost

This is kinda long so

sfth info:

General info

Sam and Tom’s last names being different sometimes

Shark Friend, Mr Wompa and Squidboi terms origins

the boys degrees

information about what you get with patreon

Just a note that many sfth videos are subtitled (a decent amount in other languages too!!!) and the subtitlers are amazing!!!! They are credited in the video descriptions.

If you see any fake sfth accounts on any platforms try to report them!!! Unfortunately there’s a multitude of them on tiktok >:( and tiktok doesn’t let people report them (there’s an issue for some when you try to) Try to not suppourt or watch these stolen videos! Sfth are verified now!!! (If that’s easier for people to tell which is the real them :))

Obviously there’s no rules on tumblr but as a general courtesy to the guys, consider keeping in mind:

Not sharing links to patreon content if you’re a patreon (which is probably actually a patreon rule but I’m just assuming that) and keeping clips of patreon things under 2 minutes. Screenshots and discussions are fine!! (As some people have been wondering) though maybe consider tagging the original post with a patreon tag (like #sfthpatreon) so people who aren’t patreons and don’t want to see patreon stuff can filter it out.

Not sharing screenshots/links/clips/ect of the guys when they were younger unless it’s still on their actual sfth account or their own personal accounts. They’ve stated before that they don’t really want these shared and have taken some older videos down.

[I’m only saying this so that people are aware and keep it in mind and be informed!!! Not telling people what they can and can’t do!]

links to stuff:

Fanfiction masterlist (list is mine, fics are of many different authors all credited through the ao3 links)

ao3 guide a relationships ao3 tagging guide and a revised ao3 tagging guide (specific for the sfth fandom) (all by the incredible @youling-the-ghost)

List of games that sfth have posted (by @letsbesharkfriends)

sfth fan wiki (by @youling-the-ghost, I have also contributed a little but it’s mostly him :))

tv tropes sfth page (by @friendofthesharks)

sfth map (by @goingroundincircles-ontrack)

kiss count, not up to date (mine, diagram by @leftenmost-window)

“who said it” and “which member are you” really fun sfth quizzes! (by @toddandersonwithtrustissues)

You can find amazing sfth gifs by @hellsquills (to find these search “shoot from the gif” within her blog)

search “#sfth asks” on my blog to find any asks about or relating to sfth- it’s not just questions, but there is a great deal of questions that you might find yours answered by :) I’m always happy to get asks and to help out with any questions!!! I’ve also started tagging “#sfth faq’s” recently

You should check out all the amazing fanart too under #sfth fanart!!! (also sneaky self promotion that I make fanart sometimes lol #emu draws is my art tag :))

feel free to @, dm me or send asks anytime if you have any sfth related questions or wanna obsess over it with me :)

Fandom tags:

(from memory and just the common ones I see)

(there’s no rules of course, just a little list so that people can search for and filter things easily :))

main tags:

#shoot from the hip #sfth #shootimpro #sfthposting #sfth screenshots

#sam russell #sfth sam #alexander jeremy #sfth aj #luke manning #sfth luke #tom mayo #sfth tom #sfth sam

fanwork tags:

#sfth fanart #sfth fanfic #sfth fanfiction #sfth edits #sfth headcanons

patreon tags:

#sfthpatreon #sfth patreon things #sfth patreon #the bitter sweethearts #sfth dnd #sfth livestreams #sfth livestreams #escape from the vault

if you want to join the sfth fan discord dm me and I can send you the link! (Just a note that it is a 14+ server.) Everyone is lovely and there’s no pressure to interact- but if you do the community is so welcoming!!!

sfth linktree (stuff about their upcoming shows and links to their things. you can also sign up for patreon here)

sfth website

sfth ko-fi

AJ ko-fi (for his film making)

Tom’s graphic novel @futurethecomic (insta)

Sam wrote an audiobook “Evergreen” and you can find it on Spotify

if you think of anything that should go on this post let me know! :)

#Making this post made my tumblr crash and I thought I lost it all for a sec 😭#But I didn’t #shoot from the hip #Sfth info #fandom resources #Sfth masterpost #This took me a while to make #Not physically but like just the time since deciding to make it and posting it #Really it was just a couple hours or so of actually making it but brain wouldn’t let me do it until now so #Anyway #:)#Sfth faq’s #Shootimpro #Long ish post #Sfthposting #sfth #If I’ve forgotten any lists or anything that people think should be on here let me know!!!#Anyway :)#👍

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pumpkinroll · 3 days ago

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a year ↪obey me! satan x gn! reader︱one shot ↪tags: sfw, fluff, nightbringer era, ~700 words ↪notes: satan finds you working on your scrapbook.

"What are you up to?"

Satan curiously glanced at the mess of brightly colored, multi-patterned paper scattered across the table in your room. Neon markers and various sheets of stickers, tape, and photographs surrounded you as you held a gluestick ready to glue your next paper victim ; he had only come to drop off a book he borrowed.

“Hm? Oh! It's the end of the month again, so I’m continuing the work on my scrapbook. Although, it looks like it's the last few pages for this year. Wanna take a look!?” With glitter and tape covered fingers, you waved him over to the seat next to you.

He hesitated for a moment but accepted the invitation and sat down, placing the borrowed book on the table.

“I only came by to return the book I borrowed, it was a…surprisingly wonderful read. I was not expecting such an ending but I did find it fitting.”

“Thanks, I knew you’d like it! But we can discuss it later, look at this!” You closed the scrapbook and held it up to him so he could read the front, A Year In The Devildom.

“So you've been working on that all year?”

“Yep! I start a new scrapbook every year. As much as I love living in the moment,” Satan watched as you delicately touch the cover, “I do appreciate capturing those moments and putting them somewhere special. It's therapeutic for me, I love reminiscing the good times. And this year is extra special…being in the Devildom has been life changing.”

You hug the book to your chest and then plop it down onto the table, flipping to the first page. A photo of a disastrous dinner gone wrong featuring all of the brothers fighting while you took a selfie among the chaos.

“I took that the first week I was here. I didn't know it'd be a reoccurring thing!” You laughed to yourself and continued flipping through the book.

All the pages were filled from top to bottom with vibrant colors, small drawings and stickers, and almost too many photos of the brothers, RAD, and the other exchange students. Little moments like Belphie snoozing at the table and Beel eating off his plate. Mammon getting tied up and hung as punishment. Satan smiling while petting a stray —

“When did you take that one!?” He asked in disbelief, embarrassed to have been caught at such a moment.

“Oh um…I was out with Simeon and Luke on an errand, you were having so much fun and I couldn't resist snapping a photo. Especially since you were so moody back then…” You trailed off and sheepishly looked away.

Satan furrowed his brows, “What do you mean?”

You quickly turned your head back towards him, “Well, when I first came here, you hated everyone and everything.”

You flipped to the next page, “You've changed a lot in the last year you know. Look.”

Satan watched as you continued to flip through the pages; many of the earlier photos showing either a scowl or bored look on his face. He never realized how he kept his distance from everyone in the photos, but as you kept turning the pages more and more towards the end of the book, he became more in focus, closer to everyone. Previous scowls turned to smiles and laughter. Especially in the ones that included you.

“Do you see it now?”

“Yeah.”

It was only until now that he realized how much you've changed him and he couldn't believe it took a scrapbook to see it. Or maybe he always knew deep down, he just couldn't face the fact that you changed him in such a short amount of time.

You flipped to the next page, half-finished.

“I was actually working on this page before you came in, do you want to help me?” You reach beside you and flip a photo over. A candid photo taken by Asmo, of you and Satan walking and chatting in the RAD courtyard; eyes shining bright and laughing.

Satan nodded with a gentle smile,

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

#writing.✩#obey me #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x you #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me oneshot #divider by saradika #sfw pumpkinroll

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jodjuya · 12 hours ago

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Abiezer Coppe is undoubtedly my favourite heretic!

To loosely paraphrase:

God made everything, including your body and everything it can do...

So therefore everything your body can do is Holy, actually!

Therefore Sin isn't real; that's just a fake category made up by the church to oppress us! It's all in your head!

Cursing and swearing? Not a sin!

Getting drunk? Not a sin!

Public nudity? Not a sin!

Masturbation? Not a sin!

Wife-swapping? Not! 👏🏻 a! 👏🏻 sin! 👏🏻

The only ACTUAL sin is being rich while your fellow man withers and dies in poverty! Not cool, assholes!! 😡

"Oh cool", you think,"Free-Love anarchism centred on opposing the stranglehold over public morality held by the Church? That sounds awesome! I wonder when this guy had his ideas? like in 1964 or something?"

So close!

You've got all the right numbers, just not in the right order!

It was 1649!

Three hundred and seventy-five years ago this guy was preaching naked in the streets of London and ranting against the rich with such bangers as:

"it's more moral to get dead drunk every single day and sleep with whores every single night than it is to tax some poor farmer to death just so you can go off to war and stab some other poor farmer to death over there"

And

"if you look the other way when it comes to the suffering of beggars and prisoners, then God will rip your eyes out and throw you headfirst into hell. If you don't bow before them and tell them they're free and that you'll serve them, then AT MINIMUM your eyes will be removed from your skull with a drill and you'll be carried off into captivity in a strange land."

And

"you rich cunts don't just have blood on your hands! It's all the way up to your fucking elbows!"

And his most famous quote—which I relay here verbatim despite not fully comprehending its greater context myself*:

"yet I can if it be my will, kiss and hug ladies, and love my neighbour's wife as myself, without sin."

(* because the fifth chapter of his second pamphlet—where this quote is taken from—is very heavy on the poetic licence, very heavy on the biblical analogy, and very heavy on the being written nearly 400 years ago (but my best guess interpretation of the gist of it is "the whole reason God put me on this earth to be a giant manwhore was to prove that you're not special just for being so uptight that you can't even look at your neighbour's wife, let alone blow her a kiss. Because even though partying with gypsies and grabbing their boobs is my favourite thing to do, I'm still not going to hell because *I* don't believe in sin so therefore it doesn't apply to me. But you do believe in it so therefore you're sending yourself to hell. So have fun with that I guess??" (Partying with gypsies was his opening anecdote, and he said (I think) he'd rather be doing that than sleeping around, but NOT because sleeping around is a sin, just that he wasn't in the mood (but even if he was then it still wouldn't be a sin (because he can't sin (because his body is literally God's temple))))))

Anyway, here's a URL. Go check out the heresy for yourself. (^_^)

What’s your favourite Christian heresy? I am doing some brainstorming.

#abiezer coppe #heresy #blogging

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duchi-nesten · 19 hours ago

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Five names...and Steve.

It's Ecto-Implosion time!!!! This year I actually did writing nO WAY!

I got to work with the amazing @toadstool32! Their art is absolutely wonderful! Go check it out!!

Tiny's Art!

---

Summary:

Danny's parents weren't very fond of the ghostly pet living in his console... or 5 times Danny's virtual pet got on his parents' nerves, and 1 time it didn't.

Wordcount: 6744 || AO3

---

A lot of things in the Fenton household were out of place.

At this point it was just a given that the Fenton parents would leave some ectoplasmic samples on the kitchen counter or end up testing their newest invention on some poor piece of furniture. Danny was very used to random burn marks on the walls, trying not to trip over ripped carpet or dodging whatever food in their fridge came to life this time. (Though usually it was only the ecto-hot-dogs, who’d pretty much taken over their fridge, and tended to dominate any other sentient meal.)

It’s also hard to forget that one time his parents somehow managed to make everything in the living room invisible. That was a fun afternoon.

The point was, weird stuff always happened in the Fenton household. That’s why Danny wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he stepped into the living room to find his old handheld console glowing green and floating right above the coffee table.

The coffee table, which was covered in a bunch of papers and spilled ectoplasmic samples. That gave him all the information he needed. His parents must have been working on an invention while watching the tv again and his poor console had fallen victim to this week’s case of ectoplasmic infusion.

Danny took a few careful steps towards his floating game. The icy cold breath escaping his throat fogged up his vision for a second, before he caught sight of a smiling little… thing coming from the screen of his console.

He tilted his head slightly to the right in confusion and was amazed when the console attempted to imitate him by tilting the screen the exact same way.

It was cute in a way. Danny couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Suddenly he felt the ghostly presence leave the console to do a little round around him. The spirit’s green light was warm against his skin, before it snuck back into the game.

Danny laughed a little.

“Well, you seem nice,” he said, not expecting the ghost to answer. To his surprise the game landed gently in his hands as he got a soft chirp in response. The black pixels on the screen moved up and down in the shape of a little blob with two antennae.

“Man, you kinda remind me of an old tamagotchi. But like… actually alive.” Danny laughed again. Just for the bit, he pressed some buttons on the console to check his theory and there it was. He could actually feed and take care of the ghostly pet thing!

He gave it some virtual food, grinning as the little creature consumed the pixels on the screen. Its satisfaction could be felt with the growing energy surrounding the console.

“Maybe I should keep you,” Danny said, and the ghost came out of the game again to happily fly one loop around the boy.

That definitely seemed like an agreement.

Hopefully, this wouldn’t blow up in Danny’s face. He always wanted a puppy and this… this was close enough. As long as his parents didn’t find out about this, it should all be fine. Which was totally easy. His parents were extremely unaware when it came to things like this.

Of course, that was the moment his parents decided to come into the living room unannounced.

If Jack Fenton’s deafening yell of “GHOST!” could count as unannounced.

“WHERE’S THE SPOOK?!” the man bellowed while bursting into the room, an ecto-gun ready to blast. He was followed by Danny’s mom, a beeping ghost detector and her own ecto-gun in each hand.

Both of his parents paused at the sight of Danny. He was about to hide the possessed console behind his back, but before he could, the little spirit came out of it to… hiss at his parents.

Danny noted how the ghost seemed to try shielding him from the guns before it got sucked back into the game after a few seconds. It couldn’t keep a physical form for too long. Interesting.

He didn’t get to ponder on it more as he felt the game being ripped out of his hands.

“Don’t worry Danny! We got this ghost!” his mother screamed, throwing the console to the ground.

“No ghost will slip into my house and try to attack my son!” his father added. Both of his parents pointed their weapons at the poor little ghost, ready to shoot it.

In a quick dash, Danny pushed between the two and jumped in front of them to shield the console with his body. “NO, WAIT!”

Full of confusion and not wanting to hurt their child, his parents lowered their guns slightly.

“Danno, get out of the way. We need to get rid of this ghost.”

“But! But! It’s in my game!” he tried.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll get it out of your game without destroying it,” his mother chimed in, putting a hand on his shoulder. She tried to gently move him out of the way, but he persisted.

“But it’s not IN my game!” Danny almost screamed, before trying to collect himself a bit and continuing in a quieter voice. “I think you made my game sentient, like the ecto-dogs.”

That made his parents lower their guns fully.

“Hm. That’s interesting,” his mom said. It was clear she was calculating something in her head. Turning to his dad, they shared a similar look of fascination. “I mean the hot dogs were a biological matter. How is it possible to make a game sentient?”

“We should pick it apart and study it!” his dad answered, voice full of excitement.

“What?” Danny asked, dumbfounded. He couldn’t let them do this. Whatever the creature was, it seemed to be friendly and most important of all, sentient. The sudden thought about his parents dissecting a sentient being caused a shiver to go down his spine. “You didn’t do it to the ecto-dogs! You didn’t even get rid of them; they’re still living in our fridge!”

“They have proved themselves, Danno,” his dad said proudly. “They’re now a part of this family.”

“Unfortunately,” his mom muttered. If it was up to her, those ecto-dogs wouldn’t be here either. “This is more intricate though. I didn’t know ectoplasm could fuse with technology in such a way. If we can figure out how it happened, maybe we can use it to our advantage.”

“Make fancy guns!” his dad excitedly added.

“You can’t do that!” Danny yelled again. In a quick spin, he picked up the console from the floor, carefully showing it off. “Look at it. It’s like a little pet, you can’t hurt it!”

His mother was clearly about to argue, but that’s exactly when Jazz decided to enter the room.

“What’s going on here?” she asked in confusion, eyes trailing from their parents, to Danny, then to the console now safely tucked in her brother's arms.

“Jazz, could you please explain to your brother that he can’t keep this ghostly thing as a pet?” their mom asked tiredly, covering her face with the palm of her hand.

“What?” Jazz asked, even more confused now.

“Mom and Dad left their experiments on the coffee table again, and some of it was infused into my console, so now it’s possessed by a virtual pet thing.” Danny explained, showing the console off to Jazz who came closer as he spoke. The little ghost on the screen blinked at his sister before hissing at her.

“Charming,” Jazz said unamused. She put her hands on her hips as she turned to address their parents. “It looks to me like whatever happened here is your fault. If you didn’t want this pet thing to exist you shouldn’t have left your highly toxic experiments laying around the family room.”

“But Jazzy-pants,” their dad started, however he was cut off by his sister.

“No buts,” she said sternly. “Danny already got attached to this thing. If you take it away now, he’s gonna be so sad and that will definitely reflect badly on his relationship with you two.”

“So what? Are we supposed to let him keep this thing?” their mother asked.

“Yes,” Jazz simply answered, giving their parents a look that clearly stated there was no more room for arguments. Their sour expressions didn’t disappear, but they sagged their shoulders in surrender.

“Alright. But if it gives us even one reason to believe it’s evil, we are getting rid of it,” their mom stated sternly. She was definitely not happy about the entire situation.

“Compared to the ecto-dogs, this thing is gonna be a saint,” Danny muttered under his breath.

Jazz only rolled her eyes with a small smile before addressing him. “So, what are you gonna name it?” she asked.

“Oh, uh. I don’t know?” he shrugged in response. “Steve or something?”

“Steve?” Jazz questioned.

“Steve?” their mother echoed.

“Come on, son. At least call it something cool. Like ecto-Steve.”

Everyone looked at his dad for a second with varying expressions of confusion.

“It’s just a placeholder name, I don’t know!” Danny defended. “I’ll come up with a better one eventually!”

Steve came out of the console and chirped happily at him.

“Awh, it is kind of cute. Why don’t you call it Chirp or something like that?” Jazz said, moving one finger in the direction of the ghost to touch him. She was immediately stopped, when ‘Steve’ turned to her and hissed angrily, making the girl move away quickly and putting her hands up. “Okay, okay, that’s a no I guess.”

“Hah, he clearly only likes me and the names I give him,” Danny smirked watching Steve go back to his console with another chirp.

“Probably only because he can feel you’re one of his kind,” Jazz said unamused. Danny quickly elbowed her and looked pointedly to their parents, who were still standing right there.

“What do you mean one of his kind?” his mom questioned. “Danny’s not a gh-”

“Gamer,” Danny quickly cut in, prompting everyone to look at him in confusion. “I am a Gamer. The pet is a Game. We’re like… so alike,” he continued spilling nonsense in hopes that it would sound believable enough.

His parents looked incredibly confused, but eventually started nodding their heads in thought.

“I guess,” his mom said. She still didn’t look fully convinced, but decided to drop it.

Both Danny and Jazz let out a breath in relief. Steve only chirped from inside the console again.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go now!” Danny said, quickly booking it out of the room with Steve in hand. As he scaled the stairs he could hear his dad whine about ‘still wanting to dissect that ghost’.

So Danny knew that as long as he kept the pet out of trouble, it would be fine.

Of course, Steve had different plans.

Danny didn’t have a choice, but to bring Steve with him anywhere he went. Even though his parents begrudgingly agreed to let the ghost stay, he didn’t really trust them to not try something if he left Steve at home unattended and the poor thing couldn’t really defend itself.

The only attack move Steve seemed to know was hissing. And he hissed at everyone and everything he considered a threat to Danny.

Danny was at the school showing off Steve to Sam and Tucker, who both loved the little guy, but hated the name Steve. Sam insisted that the pet’s name should be more androgynous as they didn’t know its gender, while Tucker kept suggesting some very bad “action-film-from-the-80s” kinda names.

That’s exactly when Danny’s ghost sense went off. He tried to leave Steve with his friends, but the pet kept hissing at them, so Danny had no choice, but to take the console with him.

Luckily for him, it only turned out to be the Box Ghost’s weekly storage room raiding time.

His ghostly enemy was incredibly proud of himself when it turned out Steve was absolutely terrified of his presence. At least for the first 10 seconds before Boxy opened his mouth and started going on and on about bringing boxed up doom upon everyone.

The fight was going by fast as usual, with only a few hiccups due to Danny having to carry not only the Fenton thermos, but also Steve’s console in his jumpsuit pocket. It definitely made the fighting more uncomfortable, yet the Box Ghost was not enough of a threat to make it an actual issue.

Finally, after a few minutes, Danny managed to suck the ghost into the thermos. Cupping the cylinder, he sighed, still a bit annoyed from all the incessant yelling he had just listened to. He was about to leave the storage room, when one of the walls exploded and in came his parents. His father already giving him a second dose of incessant yelling.

“FREEZE GHOSTS!” his dad shouted, shooting out an anti-ecto net that missed its mark by a good 10 feet if not more.

Danny was about to ignore his parents and leave when Steve decided to attack. The little ghost came out of its console and let out a loud hiss in the direction of the two adults. Danny barely got the time to react, covering his pet friend from his parents’ view.

If they ever saw Steve with Phantom, it would definitely be enough to call him evil and get rid of him.

Luckily Steve seemed to feel Danny’s distress and went back into the console. He stayed quietly in there, which left the two Fentons staring at the ghost boy in silence for a few seconds.

“Did you just… hiss at us?” his mom asked, confused.

It would’ve been incredibly funny if Danny wasn’t so stressed in the moment. The witty teenage ghost boy just seemingly hissed at the ghost hunters. Hilarious.

In an attempt to save his reputation, he uttered a simple “No,” before hastily turning invisible and booking it out of there.

“OH, COME ON,” Danny whined as he put down the card he pulled out of Steve’s hand. Not a literal hand of course, since Steve was incorporeal and couldn’t hold anything belonging to the material world.

It took him a while, but he managed to prop up Steve’s cards against some rocks they found in the park in a way that let the ghost see all of its options without Danny knowing what they were.

The only thing Steve had to do was flash a number on the console’s screen and Danny would pull out corresponding card counting from left to right. And this time it just so happened that the corresponding card was a draw +4.

“One day your luck will run out,” Danny threatened as he reached his gloved hand to draw new cards from the deck that was decorated with his father’s face. He often wondered how legal it was for his parents to make a custom FentonWorks Uno card deck.

His face suddenly split into an evil grin when he saw not one, not two, but THREE skip turn cards. (All of them showing Jack Fenton with his hand stretched forward in a halting motion on different colored backgrounds.)

“Looks like that day is coming soon.”

Five minutes and a powerful outplay by Steve later, Danny was grumbling to himself as he shuffled the deck. The word “LOSER” flashing at him from the console.

“It’s not fair, I almost had that one,” he complained, starting to deal the cards out again.

He didn’t get far, when their peaceful time was interrupted by a blast hitting the tree beside the bench they were sitting on. Danny turned to the tree to see one of the branches started burning in the place where it was hit.

“A wide shot,” he muttered. “That could only mean-”

“I’VE GOT YOU NOW, GHOST KID!”

“Of course.”

There was suddenly a huge ecto-blaster pointed right at his face. His father’s angry face staring at him from the other side.

“GIVE BACK MY FENTONWORKS BRANDED UNO CARDS, YOU GHOST PUNK! DO YOU KNOW HOW VALUABLE THEY ARE?! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THEM?!” his dad threatened, pointing to the deck of cards, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Steve laying on the bench beside them.

“What the-? MY SON’S PET GHOST! I KNEW YOU WERE EVIL! YOU STOLE THE CARDS!” his dad yelled, moving the gun to point it at Steve.

“Woah, woah. No, he didn’t!” Danny interjected, waving his hands up in an attempt to get the barrel of the gun directed back at him. Which worked out perfectly, when his dad turned to him.

“ARE YOU SAYING YOU BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE?! AGAIN?!”

“...No?”

Steve chose that moment to come out of the console to hiss at the elder Fenton. His dad only raised his weapon higher, now facing the little ghost again. Finger ready on the trigger.

Danny tried pushing Steve out of the way, surprised when it actually worked. Apparently his pet had no trouble coming in contact with other ghosts. Interesting.

He ignored the thought for now, as he leaned into his father’s shooting field.

“Look, da-I mean… Jack. We were just uhhh…” Danny looked around for a way out of this sticky situation. Seeing no polite solution, he quickly grabbed Steve’s console without any other words and ran away, tripping on the bench’s backside while trying to hop over it. He landed on his face, but quickly gathered himself and continued running.

He could hear his dad cursing and shooting after them. Every shot missing miserably.

It was later that day after Danny got back home that both of his parents interrogated him in the kitchen.

Steve’s console laid on the table in the middle of the room. Its inhabitant was currently out hissing at his dad, who was trying his best to strangle him, but Steve kept phasing through all the attempts as the ghost was incorporeal.

“Danny, your …pet is clearly up to something. Your father saw him casually hanging out with Phantom,” his mom stated, hands on her hips as she looked down at Danny.

“And he stole our FentonWorks branded uno cards!” his dad added, giving up on strangling Steve.

It took a while to calm down his parents and come up with barely passable excuses on why exactly Steve had the cards and was hanging out with his parents biggest enemy.

The elder Fentons finally gave up seeing as they could not convince their son to hand over the ghost. They were still not happy with him at all and were definitely suspicious of the whole thing, so Danny knew he just had to be more careful about what he was gonna be doing with Steve from now on.

The little ghost was still showing his displeasure by hissing at Danny’s parents. The boy sighed, petting Steve in hopes of calming him down enough to make him disappear into the console again, so he could take it to his room and far away from his parents.

He realized what a big mistake that was only once he saw his parents’ curious gazes follow the point where his hand was touching the ghost. The incorporeal ghost that could not be touched by fully material organisms.

Which Danny was not.

Because he had ectoplasm in his bloodstream.

Shit.

“How are you touching that thing?” his mom asked, her face a mix of surprise, concern and fascination.

Danny looked from one parent to the other. “Uh. He likes me?” he asked stupidly.

Before he could get an answer, he picked up Steve’s console running out of the kitchen. He tripped on one of the chairs in the process, falling face flat on the ground, before quickly gathering himself back up again and booking it out of there.

After that, Danny managed to keep Steve out of trouble for a few days. Unfortunately, the peace couldn’t last any longer as Technus finally got a wind of the new technology based ghost in town.

And just like Danny’s parents, he found him incredibly fascinating.

The fascination quickly turned into mischief, as Technus realized just how attached Danny was to the little creature. He managed to snatch the console, while the boy was trying to fight off various appliances from the electronics store Technus just raided.

One of said appliances was a microwave that now held poor Steve hostage. Which Technus threatened to turn on if Danny didn’t let him do his evil taking over the world deeds in peace.

“Let him go, Technus!” bargaining was all Danny had left. He couldn’t risk his friend perishing in a microwave explosion. “Steve didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Steve?” Technus questioned, his voice sounding very disgusted. “Is that the creature’s name? What an absolute lack of creativity.”

“It’s a placeholder name! I’ll come up with a better one eventually!”

“How about microwave food? Get it? ‘Cuz I’m gonna microwave it,” the ghost asked, smirking evilly. Danny’s eyes widened in terror as Technus reached out to the flying prison, which held his friend.

Before anything could happen, Technus was suddenly shot with a blast from the back. It broke his concentration enough to make the ecto energy surrounding the microwave dissipate. It started falling to the ground. Danny quickly took his chance and dived to save Steve.

Just as he was about to reach the falling microwave, the energy around it returned and moved the appliance right from under Danny’s nose.

“NO!” he screamed, turning his trajectory to follow the escaping microwave.

Another blast flew right past his ear and that’s when he finally noted that his parents had made it to the battlefield. Their shots were pointed at both him and Technus. He needed to stop them before they accidentally brought any harm to Steve.

“No, don’t shoot him!” he yelled to the Fentons. “He has a hostage!”

“You’ll be our hostage once I’m done with you ghost kid!” his dad yelled back, aiming his gun and shooting at Danny (absolutely missing in the process).

“Hun, hold on,” his mom, always the more rational one, put a hand on Jack’s arm to make him lower the gun, before addressing Danny. “What hostage?” she demanded in a strong voice.

Danny grimaced a little as he heard Technus laugh in the background, already choosing to rain chaos upon some other electronics store or whatever. “...Steve,” he said to his parents.

“Wha- Steve?” his mother questioned, clearly irritated. “Our son’s ghost pet Steve?”

“Yes.”

“So now that evil ghost is hanging out with other evil ghosts too!” his dad yelled, raising his gun and running off after Technus. “That’s enough, that little ghost scum is gonna regret his existence!”

“Wait no!” Danny screamed after his father. He was about to follow him, but his mother’s voice stopped him.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked accusingly, cocking her gun and getting ready to aim at Danny again.

“Well! Why don’t you care? Your son would be heartbroken if anything happened to his pet, right?” he shot back, eyes nervously trailing in the direction of Technus and his dad.

“Danny will get over it. It’s just a ghost.”

“UGH! Steve hasn’t done anything to make you believe he’s evil!” Danny was ready to rip his hair out in frustration. “It’s your own fault he’s even existing in the first place! Maybe you should take some responsibility instead of accidentally creating ecto abominations left and right!” he yelled before turning away and flying to stop his dad from making everything worse.

Maybe he did say a bit too much, but the irritation he felt took over him. Why couldn’t his parents just stop being so negative towards anything ghost related? Steve may have been a little bit hissy towards them, but that was literally the most threatening thing he could do. Other than that he’s been nothing, but cute and silly.

Danny shook his head, focusing on getting Steve back from the clutches of the actually evil ghost. Luckily it didn’t take long before he managed to retrieve his friend as Technus was being distracted by his father’s incessant screaming.

The ghost was quickly sucked into the thermos after that. Danny, still riding on worry, adrenaline and slight irritation, totally missed a pair of violet eyes curiously observing him while he coddled with Steve, glad the pet was finally safe in his arms.

Maddie was not happy about the ghostly creature that’s been living under her own roof for a few weeks now. She’s had enough of the ecto-dogs taking over their fridge, so she definitely didn’t need another intruder.

She was especially not happy about it being so close to her son though.

This ‘Steve’ was clearly only trouble. He kept aggressively hissing at everyone except her son, and continued getting into shenanigans. Yet for some reason Danny found him fun and endearing. It honestly bothered her how much Danny seemed to love this thing.

Even worse, how that little thing seemed to bond with her son.

But as much as she hated this ghostly nuisance, it fascinated her. If it was up to her, the little creature would be closed off in their lab and examined for any way that could help them improve their weaponry and inventions.

Sadly it seemed like Danny would never let that happen.

She sighed as she went up the stairs, readjusting her grip on the basket full of dirty hazmat suits and lab coats from their basement. They usually just kept a spare laundry basket down in the lab to save a trip upstairs if anything got stained with ectoplasm, which happened often.

Unfortunately that also meant the basket usually laid forgotten down there until it was so full nothing else would fit in it. It wasn’t fully packed yet, but it has been a while since the last wash. It was finally the time to get these clothes clean.

She reached the bathroom, putting the basket down on the floor in front of the washing machine. She started loading up the laundry starting off with the piece of clothing that made her decide to do the lab laundry in the first place.

Her blue jumpsuit was fully stained in ecto-goo. She and Jack had come back from a ghost battle only half an hour prior, the battle taking place only one block down from their house. She got hit by the goo when her husband, as usual, missed his mark while trying to shoot the ghost kid, who was fighting another ghost again.

She grimaced at the thought, squeezing the jumpsuit and stuffing it into the washing machine, suddenly feeling annoyed.

That was another thing that’s been weird recently. The ghost kid’s affiliation with Danny’s stupid pet.

With so many ghost attacks around the town, they quickly noticed that Steve wasn’t very fond of other ghosts. The only ghost he seemed to like for whatever reason was Phantom. Which definitely was a mutual thing, since the ghost kid was awfully protective of the little ghost.

Maddie still remembered his outburst from a while back. It seemed so…genuine. She didn’t understand why he cared so much and it bothered her. Something was definitely going on there, but it felt as if she was missing a big puzzle piece.

She let out another sigh. Her basket was now empty, but there was still some space left in the washing machine. She decided to go ask Danny if he’s got anything else to put in it, since Steve tended to …leak on things sometimes.

While still kind of stuck in her own thoughts, she made her way to Danny’s room. As she approached, she heard her son snickering through the door.

“Steve, come on. Homework can wait. What are you, my mom?”

Looked like her son was slacking on his homework by playing with the annoying thing. Without thinking to knock, she opened the door ready to catch him in the act and to scold him for it.

“He’s not, but I…am…” she stilled at the sight in front of her.

There, on her son’s bed, laid no one other than Phantom himself. Though laid wasn’t the right word. He hovered right above it. Steve’s console held in both of his hands as he stared right back at her, green eyes wide in shock.

Steve took a round around him, before going back into the console.

It was all they needed to snap out of their stupor.

Phantom, in panic, fell atop the bed, before raising himself on all fours and yelling “I CAN EXPLAIN!”

And god if the look on his face didn’t look familiar. It was exactly the kind of look Danny would give her when she caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. She probably wouldn’t have noted the similarity if it wasn’t for the familiar background of Danny’s bedroom and the assumption she already had of finding him in here instead.

A quick look around the room told her he was not present, so the person she heard had to be the ghost in front of her. But that was Danny’s voice for sure.

Have their voices always been so similar?

An unsettling theory was forming in her head, but she tried her best to push the thought aside.

Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and gave Phantom a condescending look. “Well then, explain.”

That seemed to take him by surprise. Maddie assumed he probably expected her to pull out an ecto-blaster and start shooting. To be fair, she probably would, but thanks to the mishap with her jumpsuit getting dirty, she didn’t have any weapon on her. (And the idea of shooting him now left a bitter taste in her mouth.)

Observing her carefully, he slowly stood up from the bed, putting his console down by the pillows. He tried to stutter something out, but it was cut off by a yelp when his legs tangled in the sheets and he fell off the bed.

Maddie cringed a little at his fall. She quickly realized it wasn’t the first time she saw something like this happen. Danny often did the exact same thing, whenever she came in to wake him up after his alarm didn’t seem to do its job.

Phantom quickly got up to his feet. “Well, uh. You see, I was just-” he paused, looking around the room. His eyes landed on Steve’s little face coming from the screen of his home. “Babysitting! Your, uh, your son had to go out, so I’m just… looking out for this little guy.”

And oh how she wanted to believe him, but the way he nervously smiled at her from across the room, rubbing his arm and shuffling his feet on the ground. It was probably the first time she got to properly look at him. No adrenaline from an ongoing battle or distortion of blurry video recordings.

Without thinking she took a few steps forward. Seeing her slowly advance, he took two steps back, but his legs quickly bumped into the nightstand. With no more space to back out he watched her come closer with fearful eyes, as he laughed nervously. “I know you’re probably mad, so let me just… leave-”

His talking ceased when she finally approached him. Without a word she gently reached out to swipe the bangs out of his eyes before her hand landed on his cheek.

She could feel him growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, as she gave him a long look-over. He even tried to talk again, but she just shushed him and continued scanning his features and everything.

She inhaled sharply when she finally saw it.

Before he could react, she pulled him into a hug, wrapping one arm around him while the other gently stroked his hair. “Oh, my baby…”

The boy immediately stiffened in her arms. “Wh-What?” He let out another nervous laugh as he tried to wiggle out of her embrace. “Uh. What are you talking about-hAH. Wha-” he stilled as he got a look at her face, probably noticing the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Danny.” Even though the name left her lips as a whisper, it still held a lot of intensity. The tears streamed down her face as she asked, her voice quiet and uncertain “What happened?”

It made absolutely no sense to her. Danny couldn’t be a ghost, Phantom’s been around for almost two years now and Danny’s has been here all this time. But even though she didn't know how or why, she knew it was her son standing in front of her.

A mother always recognises her child.

(Even though it took her an embarrassingly long time to do that.)

Was it some sort of disguising technique? Can some ghosts still pass as humans? It would definitely explain all the times their inventions seemed to go off around him or how he seemed to be the only human able to actually touch his ghostly pet.

It was because he wasn’t human. He was a ghost. Which meant he must’ve died and neither her or Jack even noticed. The thought brought her tears back full force. She almost choked on a sob as all the possibilities of her child’s death flashed in her head.

She already felt horrible for not noticing all this before now, but what if his death was also somehow her fault?

Instead of providing her with the answers she craved so badly, he just stared at her with an unreadable expression. It took him a while, but his gaze finally moved to the ground, before his entire face broke and he looked up to her again.

“I’m not dead I swear!” he said, voice full of desperation. As if this was the most important thing and he needed her to believe him.

So he was in denial. Maybe that’s what gave him the ability to pass as a human and not turn into an obsessive evil ghost. Holding onto the thought of still being alive, helped him keep his humanity.

Well, she wasn’t going to shatter that and risk him becoming malevolent.

“O-Of course not, honey,” she said, voice at the edge of breaking. She stroked his cheek gently again, feeling how icy cold he was and almost letting out another sob.

“No, I know what you’re thinking,” he said, gently pulling back from her hand, which hurt her only a little bit before she focused back on what he was saying. “You’re creating an entire theory about me being in denial or something!”

Well, he got her spot on.

Before she could respond, he continued in a softer voice.

“I’m still human too, I swear. Or more like… half human?” he offered, shrugging a bit at her. “Half-human, half-ghost?”

What.

She decided to voice her confusion.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really get it myself, but look!” As he said this a light blue ring appeared at his waist. Maddie took a step back as it split in two and traveled up and down his body.

And there was her Danny, black hair, blue eyes and everything. She already knew it was him, but having it confirmed like this, seeing just how much he always resembled Phantom and she didn’t notice was insane.

“See! Human. I’ve got a heartbeat and everything to prove it!”

She slowly leaned back in and placed her hand back on his cheek. It was warmer now, maybe still slightly colder than a normal temperature, but definitely not icy cold as it was just a minute prior.

He definitely felt two of her fingers slide down under his jaw to check for the mentioned heartbeat, but he didn’t say anything about it.

She sighed in relief when she found it.

“But… how is this possible?” she asked. It would be incredibly fascinating if she wasn’t so worried for her child.

“I don’t know. I kinda uh…” he looked away and shrugged. Maddie caught his gaze locking onto the console still laying on his bed. “I think it’s kinda like Steve? I got infused with ectoplasm or something.”

Well that… that was certainly a better option than him dying. But the comparison brought back the memory of his outburst during the technology ghost fight.

Suddenly she realized he might’ve not been talking only about Steve and the ecto-dogs as she initially assumed.

“Oh, Danny.” she covered her mouth as guilt washed over her. “It’s our fault isn’t it?”

He immediately perked up. “No! No. It’s my own fault, you didn’t do anything. I was just being stupid…” he sat down on his bed looking down at his shoes.

Maddie followed suit, putting a hand on his back and rubbing it softy. She needed to ask, she needed to know how it exactly happened. No matter how terrified she was of the answer. Before she could gather the courage though, he already opened his mouth and spoke so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m sorry.”

His sad tone broke her heart. She wrapped her arms around him again and pulled him into her side. “No, Danny. I’m so sorry we never noticed and then we went ahead and shot at you and said so many horrible things. Oh baby, I love you so much, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said back, reciprocating the hug. They stayed like this for a while, Maddie gently stroking his hair while mumbling out apologies. Danny kept mostly quiet, but he seemed content in her embrace.

They would’ve stayed like this longer if it wasn’t for the little ghostly presence appearing behind them. Maddie felt a shiver when Steve phrased through her arm in an attempt to get Danny’s attention.

She moved her hand away and turned to the creature. Surprisingly he didn’t hiss at her this time, even when Danny raised up from their hug to look at the little ghost.

“Yes, yes. You want attention, I hear you,” her son snickered and reached out to the console as Steve hid back inside it again.

Maddie watched as her son checked the needs of the creature on the screen before giving it some virtual food. Steve gladly consumed the little pixels and did something akin to a little happy dance.

She couldn’t help, but smile.

“I must admit,” she said, catching the attention of both her son and the ghost. “He is kind of cute when he’s not hissing at me all the time.”

Danny chuckled in response. “Yeah, Steve’s really nice, you just gotta get to know him better.”

“I should give him a chance then,” she smiled back.

Steve came out of the console and neared her face, almost as if studying her. After a second of staring he let out a chirp and did a little round around both her and Danny, which made her giggle a little.

“Guess you really aren’t as bad as we thought, Steve,” she said, before pausing a little. “Even though your name is a little silly.”

“It’s a placeholder!” Danny whined, dropping back on his bed. The console was now laying on his stomach as Steve made his way back in.

“Honey, it’s been a placeholder for weeks now. When are you gonna finally come up with a real name?”

“I don’t have any ideas! And everyone’s only criticizing, but their ideas aren’t any better! Like dad’s! Ecto-Steve? For real?”

“Hmm, that was a bit funny,” Maddie said, trying to hold back the laughter. “But maybe he was onto something there?”

“He definitely was not.”

“I mean, if you drop the Steve part and just call him Ecto. It would be fitting.” She looked to her son, catching his gaze. “He did come from ectoplasm after all.”

Danny raised up on his elbows while he contemplated that. “You know what? That’s not bad. I kinda like it,” he smiled and addressed the little ghost. “Ecto, huh? What do you think about that?”

The ghost gave a little chirp as it came out of the console to make a few happy zigzags in the air.

Maddie chuckled a bit. “Well, looks like he likes it.”

“Guess he does.” Danny slumped back onto the bed, a very content smile on his face.

There was a beat of silence before he opened his mouth again.

“I’m too used to Steve, I’m still gonna call him that.”

“I know, honey.”

#kad writes #ectoimplosion2024 #danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton

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rontra · 3 days ago

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tell me more about these OCs. What’s their deal. How’s life where they live. Do they have games on their phones

the 4 dipshits i drew yesterday are from one of the oldest oc settings ive got (they were minted from the forge of stupid fuckheads in the year of our lord 2011) (and i'm very mean to them<3)

so because it's so old a lot of my followers will recognize them or even be familiar with previous iterations of their story/lore... there's been like. 3 discreet incarnations of it by now. and 3.0 needs some serious aid so this might be 4.0 now. so basically things people know may or may not be canon anymore. i just go in there and sift thru the entrails like fnaf mangle when im bored its my toys

but basically they live in chess world. and they all hate it. and life is bad. because of the Forever War. we should put a stop to that. but the Powers That Be are very picky about the steps that need to be taken to End the Forever War so that part sucks too. also because its chess world everybody has a lil rank and title and has to go perish on the battlefield or whatever

yesterday''s posts,

these two assholes are flang (blonde) and kaitlin (has games on her phone). they're part of the group of 4 main characters with kaitlin serving as the "guy everyone gives exposition to" vehicle, because she just got here, because it's also an isekai (surprise!). so she owns a phone and has games on it but she can't use it anymore because there's no phone service in Chess World. sad!

her rank is king (she/her king W), which means she has a lot of responsibilities in a lot of areas--none of which she wants or really signed up for, but her fun new wife (the black queen) just kinda recruited her into it. in the setting, king/queen are primarily military titles, then government positions; it is not necessary to be royalty "by blood", hence these unruly (albeit rare since there can only be one of each at a time) pawn-to-queen and pawn-to-king promotions happening on the board. she also has a cursed sword that is surprisingly unrelated to all of that but it has magic powers

flang (they/she) is From chess world and has grown up in alabaster. her mother is a doctor so she is too. her rank is pawn. she has a lot of issues and almost all of them are because alabaster sucks ass to live in if you're even like 1% outside of what alabaster considers Proper. it's a "reasonably stable and reasonably safe" kingdom to live and work in, but that safety and stability is always conditional; it's only stable and safe if you're born 100% conforming to it or discard your existing self to assimilate into it. this has made flang a very precious kind of insane that hurts them and everybody around them all of the time. but it can be repaired by defecting from the country, scaring their family, getting a fun haircut, almost succumbing to a fever, and finally the tender touch of a lesbian who has games on her phone

the other two people in the Main 4 are aster (kaitlin's wife, queen) and erin (the other queen) and are NOT the people i drew yesterday (BDHJBGS)

this is aster and erin 👇

you can tell because they have the look of 2 people who have been ruining each other for like a decade now and arent gonna stop until they change or die

aster (she/they) is trying to kill the white king for Revenge Reasons and ending the forever war is just like a cool side effect for her. she's the one who got kaitlin into all of this mess which is complicated because on the one hand, she got kaitlin into all of this mess and is trying to strongarm her into doing things she absolutely doesn't want to do (like killing people). on the other hand though, being roped into all of this mess did pretty directly save kaitlin's life in the first place and somehow loops back around to improving her mental health in the long run. so who's to say whether big murder plots that only you like and want are bad to do or not

erin (she/her) is normal about that freak^ but is in a very bad position because aster getting kaitlin on the board and starting their big dumb plan is a very clear signal to erin that aster has already won, long before anyone else thinks that. erin doesn't really gaf about the white king but she has other things she cares about and is willing to die to protect. to erin, aster's victory means she's on borrowed time and it won't be long before aster will go Through Her to get what they want. there's a confrontation on the horizon where erin fully believes one of them will kill the other one. but also they're like in love. but also erin has way better gfs available. you understand

the two other bitches i drew yesterday are NOT in the main 4 theyre just some other freaks . this is zarni (short hair) and fal (blonde) 👇

faolan (she/her) is the white queen's bishop which means she's the piece closest to the queen--basically shes erin's right hand arm man. she's erin everything. her confidant. her best friend. her silly rabbit. (is that what erin calls her?) no.

fal WANTS to be all of those things and has a weird crush on the queen but erin never lets anybody in and that includes fal. but basically faolan is the bitch who's always in it for Rank And Power and has climbed as high as she can and is still vying for erin's personal approval and acknowledgement because nothing's ever enough for her. she sucks to hang out with and almost dies very badly but zarni has her back

zarni (she/her) isnt actually from either kingdom she's with the unrelated third party pirate faction that mostly keeps to itself and has its own squabbles and drama that doesn't really have anything to do with the Forever War. an outlaw... a GRIMINAL... she met faolan way back when fal was much lower rank than she is now. fal was escorting her to the capital to receive basically a slap on the wrist for doing crimes in alabaster territory and they kinda hit it off in a weird way. right now zarni is technically like. fal's hired muscle. her right hand arm man (henchman edition). but for zarni it mostly doubles as a convenient way to have free passage into and within alabaster, for her own sidequest reasons. she ends up saving fal's stupid life because unfortunately they care about each other now and it's embarrassing for everyone. but maybe it'll distract faolan from looking at erin just long enough for her to realize she needs a big strong woman to carry her off into the sunset and build her a cottage where she can fucking retire already. or something. one can dream

anyway that's the people i drew yesterday (and the 2 in the middle that i didnt even draw but i would feel neglectful if i didnt mention). ssorry for the long post i just love talking about my ocs and these ones are 13 years old so talking about them comes Very Easily To Me MDJBSBJGS

i skimped on details just to get thru the tl;dr basics but i hope it was at least entertaining (and if anyone has more questions after this i dont mind i know i skipped a lot HDHBJG)

to me this is an oc setting entirely populated by stupid assholes who are constantly ruining at least 1 other character's life in some way. and that's how they all save each other. and that's beautiful. godbless our beautiful gay chess soldiers

#my final message change the forever war goodbye #oc stuff

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seancekitsch · 3 days ago

Text

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Four

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My Sweet Unfamiliar,

Do not look for betrothal in other men. I will admit I was not looking for a wife in these letters, merely fun to distract from the banality of court, but a personality such as yours has me rethinking it all. If you were to have me, I would take you by horse or by wheelhouse or by ship to anywhere that would please you. However that means I must find you first. My list has gone from six to two in the past week; and I feel all the more confident that I shall find you soon.

At the tourney I swore I could see you, yet I was not sure if your eyes were on mine. I saw one lady sure and steadfast and utterly bored by the entire event until the final one, and I assumed it had to be you. Though, I am uncertain if my affectionate gaze carried to where you could notice. I do not find you too forward, Sweet Unfamiliar, as when I find you I will be difficult to restrain myself from kissing your lips bruised. I find myself besotted by you despite not knowing you, and I regret to inform you that I will be forever envious of the man who claimed your first kiss.

To read a work as forbidden as Wylde’s must mean that you are a lady of some pull at court, as that book is not so easily come upon. I too have read it, stolen away from my studies by the temptation of the restrictions placed on the text. We may have read two of the only copies that still exists. That is yet another clue you’ve given me to your identity. Though I must wonder, what did you learn from it? Did you enjoy what you read? Do I dare ask further? No, I shall not. It is unbecoming of a man of my stature, and unbecoming to ask you so plainly. Hence, though, it will be what I dream of.

Congratulations, My Unfamiliar, you have just convinced me to learn Jenny of Oldstones. You are correct, what a beautiful and haunting song. What a careful and remorseful tune. I will be sure to learn it well for you so that I may play and you may sing. Surely, I do not know your voice, though I am sure if I am taken by your personality your voice will do the same for me.

To answer your queries, I will say that I believe love can be both: fated and fleeting. Some people, I truly think, are meant to be together. Yet the world makes that a fleeting thing. To think how many great love stories are cut short by senseless tragedies, or circumstances keeping two apart? To think, My Unfamiliar, how easily we could have never known each other like this?

I would never wish for you to dance without music, and thought I will not be playing at the next feast, I will be requesting the song.

At the next feast, what will you wear? Will I be able to finally put a face to the lovely letters?

If you give me the word, I will use it, and use it often that night. I will even shout it if I must! But I do not wish to, instead I wish to whisper the word to you, in hopes that quietly, privately, we can discover each other. Then, and only then, will I claim that dance.

And if we are brave, I will claim that kiss.

Hopeful and waiting,

Your Unfamiliar

You sigh as you cross names off your list, half exasperated and half thrilled.

Your sentiments are returned, a faceless phantom of a man, wants to kiss you wants to take you traveling wants to play you music. This man seems genuine, sweet and caring; Yet also passionate, bold and forward with his affections. The idea pleases you, that someone in this big stagnant castle is forcing movement within you.

And more than anything, your affections are returned. This man, whoever he may be, finds your personality as attractive as you find his, and he wants to kiss the breath out of you. Admittedly, your first kiss was not one to commit to any history. It was a kiss with a lower lord from the north during the early days of your life at King’s Landing hastily done and even more hastily finished. For a fortnight after you had convinced yourself that kissing was worthless and betrothal even moreso.

You hope this one will be better. You hope it to be the soft lips and passionate embraces you’ve read about. A Caution for Young Girls as a read did nothing but excite you, with tales of adventure and travel and wild romance that feels so foreign from what you’ve been given so far. You want to experience at least the thrill of these things.

But that isn’t something you’ve ever voiced outside of these letters the past few weeks. Especially not to Alicent, who sits at the next table over and pours over a list of invitations. She has been revising them all afternoon, worry marring her beautiful features and making her look much older than she is.

“I cannot make any waves with this,” she mutters, not exactly to you, but also not to no one. She has been making excuses for over an hour now, though it falls on understanding and also inconsequential ears.

“You have invited everyone of honor,” you tell her, for the fifth time since lunch. You close your journal, confident in the names you had crossed out of your now list of potential suitors, and rise from your seat.

“Let me see that,” you ask her, and the corners of her lips rise as she hands you the parchment. Throughout the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the dropped formalities between the two of you to have a profound effect on Alicent Hightower. You realize that maybe you are the first person to address her as an equal since herself and the princess fell out. Granted, you are not her equal by a long shot, but she has allowed you to be free tongued almost as much as your Unfamiliar. And she seems healthier for it. Your eyes scan over the guest list for the feast, all of the lords and ladies of all of the great houses of Westeros besides Dorne, and even a few of the more notorious Pentoshi merchants and their wives. This included notable vassals and knights from each of the seven kingdoms, as well as the High Septon and his advisors.

“I cannot see anyone who would be missing,” you tell her “Unless you’d like to invite a Dothraki warlord, I think we are good to start penning these.”

She laughs, more than just a scoffing sigh. Not a full laugh, but still more than just a sigh. You give the list back to her, and she waves over two of her maids. They quickly take their supplies and get to work, writing out each invitation diligently, drying the ink and then rolling the parchment to be delivered by raven to every great house in the seven kingdoms. Alicent always gets jumpy at feasts, and you do not doubt that you will be sat next to her again at this one. You only hope that despite sitting with the royal family, you will be able to do your little investigation. With any luck, you will be able to get out onto the dance floor and converse with some of the men.

Alicent was right about these letters, and brilliantly so. Even you yourself, who while supporting her doubted you would enjoy them, now has her to thank for the reinvigoration of the court. You trace your thumb across the spine of your journal thoughtfully, as Alicent hovers over the girls writing.

“That will not make the invitations be sent out faster,” you tease the queen, your gaze still turned downwards, and from the corner of your eye you can see her spin on her heels.

“You are right,” she concedes, and comes over to you, “Perhaps we should find somewhere else to go and stop pestering these lovely girls?”

She asks, and you fumble with your purses, tucking away your journal and supplies.

“A wonderful idea, Your Grace,” you smile at her as you stand, and hold out your arm to her.

Alicent leads you to one of the balconies overlooking the training yards, a nice shady spot with a light crossbreeze and ample seating to lounge on and far enough away that you cannot actually hear what the knights are saying over the sounds of your own conversations. It is one of the more peaceful parts of this side of the castle, though it is not one you come to often. She has two serving girls bring fresh water and lemons and a spread of cheeses and you quickly situate yourself on the cushions of one of the settees on the balcony, pulling your skirts up as you kick your legs up onto the cushion next to you. You stretch your legs and point your toes before you finally sit back onto the cushions, lounging yourself as you reach for a piece of cheese and some bread. This is not the ideal spot she could have taken you. You would have rather gone to the gardens or even one of the sitting rooms where you could call in one of the musicians. You could be just as content pulling up your skirts and lounging there instead of just out of the reach of the sun’s rays. However, you suspect that there is more than one reason why she has chosen to come here: her brother, and the fact that often the maester’s bring her sons here after their lessons.

Soon Aegon and Aemond will come bounding into the training yard to hang from Ser Criston Cole’s arms and climb the man until he offers to put a training sword in their pale little hands. That, at least, is always entertaining and gives you a good laugh. The poor Kingsguard always looks so lost and desperate under the boys’ onslaught.

“A sea of blue down there,” Alicent remarks, tipping the cup of water to her lips, “Many men seemingly showing off their loyalty these days.”

She is indeed correct; many of the men training below- save for the Kingsguard- wear blue tabards or bits of cloth pushing the sweat off of their foreheads or other adornments worn to be flashy as if there is some favor they’ve been given.

“Perhaps Gwayne has shared the book he borrowed,” you joke, but your mouth runs dry when you realize he is among the men in blue. Instead of his normal Hightower Green, his tabard is a deep royal blue like that of a sapphire. By wearing this, he is showing to everyone he is loyal to a lady; and it’s not lost on you that the crown he placed upon your head was also blue. Does he mean to signal to all of court that he is loyal to you? That you and he are bound to one another? The thought brews an anger behind your gaze. He knows you are looking for your writing partner, and yet he pulls this stunt to obscure your availability. Now any man at court could come to some conclusion. The knights are probably already coming up with rumors of how Gwayne finally shut up the shrill companion of the queen. The ladies can probably already guess and assume the things you’ve done with him in hidden corridors and behind bookshelves. Gods, the entire idea of it has you feeling angry to the point of sickness.

You grab three more pieces of cheese, shoving them into your mouth hastily. Maybe, with enough aged cheeses, you can brighten your quickly souring mood.

“The book you showed him?” Alicent speaks, and you actively cringe as you swallow your bite.

“A Guide on Courtly Love,” you scoff, attempting what you can to not give away too much. For some reason, to tell Alicent all of what has gone on feels too intimate for her station. If you told her all of what’s transpired between you and her brother, all of your feelings, the letter’s contents.

“Gwayne asked you for that?” She asks, as if in disbelief.

“Yes?”

It is Alicent’s turn to scoff. She does it politely though, with her dainty hand over her mouth to disguise her obvious smile.

“He did not need that,” she explains, “Believe me, he is well versed in the acts of courtly love.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, and then wave over one of the serving girls to bring wine instead of water.

“As a boy, he was obsessed with becoming the best knight in all the realm. He studied the blade, clearly, but he also read every guide on chivalry and courtly love and every famous old story or fable about knights and their gentleness and goodness. I am certain he has read every single written word that exists on the topic.”

She delivers this news completely unaware of how it changes your view of the past few weeks interactions with her brother. All you can do is hum in response, and reach for the goblet of wine the serving girl brought over to your side table.

You sink into your wine and cheese quietly, a front of content in the afternoon to hide a churning mystery unraveling below.

Maybe it will not be the colors of your house that you wear, you think. Now the sight of deep blue almost making you nauseous. You could wear all black, as if in mourning, but you’d already promised to save your black dress for the masquerade the king wanted to old. Plus, this is the celebration of the birth of a prince. Black may be too much an omen. Green is out of the question, as is gold.

You look down to your goblet, ruby red wine sloshing around and dripping down the inner sides of the silver cup. Ruby red. Thats it! Rubies. Maybe a dress color isn’t what your Unfamiliar should be looking for, but a jewelry color. You’ll wear rubies, earrings and a big ring! Big enough for him to press his lips against before a dance with you

You’re shaken from your thoughts by a new voice.

“Was my performance at the tourney not enough to showcase my skill in honor of the crown?” Gwayne calls out, smiling as he ascends the staircase to the balcony.

“Brother! Of course it was, I simply wanted some fresh air,” she motions towards him to sit next to her, scooting herself over on her settee. She pats the cushion as she makes herself smaller, your eyes on her hands and on the fine upholstery instead of the man intruding on the quiet afternoon.

“And my Queen of Love and Beauty, how are we?” he asks, his voice loud and cheerful.

“Lovely, just lovely,” you sneer, tipping your goblet to your lips again, “Until you showed up.”

“Please do not start,” you hear Alice grumble, but neither of you listen. It is her turn to focus on the cheese rather than the situation at hand.

“Here I was thinking you’d finally fallen off your high horse,” he spits back, “Such poisonous lips yet whom do I catch ogling me like I am a piece of meat?”

“I do not ogle!” offense makes your voice rise an octave as you slam your goblet down onto the side table.

“Then what do you call it? Watching me with eyes that are not becoming of an unmarried lady? While my pious sister sits by?”

“Do not bring me into this game,” Alicent sighs, and Gwayne does indeed back off slightly, leaning back on the settee farther away from you. You push yourself to sit up, kicking your legs off your settee. Though, you do not miss the way that Gwayne’s eyes are glued to your legs, bare as your skirts flutter and reposition themselves. You shake your head, incredulous.

“And you say I am unseemly in my gaze? What of your eyes, Ser Gwayne?”

“I am simply looking at Love and Beauty.”

You set your jaw tightly, looking away from the Hightower siblings. Below, Aegon and Aemond are actively smacking Ser Criston Cole with their training swords, right on schedule.

“My Queen, may I retire to my chambers? I feel I’ve had enough of the sun today, it is heating my blood in a way I don’t find favorable,” you ask, sighing deeply as you reach for another piece of cheese.

“How many times must I remind you to call me Alicent?” she chuckles, exasperated by whatever it is going on in front of her, “But yes, you may. I’ll call upon you when Helaena wants to see you before bed.”

You nod, and rise to your feet.

“Thank you, Alicent.”

You give her a smile as you depart, but it fades the moment you turn away from her.

“Why must you push her?” you can hear Alicent’s voice the moment she believes you are out of earshot.

Unfortunately, you cannot hear Gwayne’s answer.

Hours later, you hastily pen another letter, after looking into your wardrobe and in fact finding a perfect dress for the feast. The annoyance from earlier leaves your system when you finally get to sit down at the writing desk by candlelight. Sweet solitude clearing your mind, so you can only focus on him.

My Hopefully Discovered Unfamiliar,

This letter will be brief. More brief than we are used to, but I feel confident we will not write much longer unless we truly want to. I feel we will find each other at this feast to celebrate the birth of the Prince Lucerys.

I will leave you, perhaps an answer that teases you, my findings upon the writings of Corinne Wilde: I have learned much. I know much. I enjoyed it.

I fear we were almost ghosts of a story, and I must praise our Queen Alicent for creating this letter system. I think I agree with your philosophy on love regarding Jenny of Oldstones.

I will not tell you the color of my dress, for in truth I have not picked it yet, but my jewelry will be rubies. Blood red rubies. You will know me by rubies.

Our word will be CLANDESTINE, and I want you to learn to dance an Almain, if you are able. If not, I am sure a man like you will catch on quickly.

Yours, hopefully unveiled,

Your Unfamiliar

You fold the paper thrice before sealing it into the envelope, heart fluttering in both panic and excitement.

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne x reader

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jesswritesthat · 2 days ago

Note

can i request a kuroo x reader where reader is bokuto’s sib? that would be so funny and how would he act towards them? and HOW BOKUTO WOULD REACT AT THIS😭😭 love yaa

A/N: omg I love this idea!!!

>>>>——————————>

Kuroo Dating Bokutos’ Sibling Headcanons:

• Ironically Bokuto was the one to introduce you to Kuroo, and he would never have shown you off so proudly if he could predict the future.

Alas - you walked into a busy Fukurōdani Group Training Camp during their second year equipped with a bento box and a string of curses.

“See how amazing my family is Rooster hair? My biggest fan brings me lunch!” Bokuto slings an arm around your shoulder beaming with grateful pride.

“Ugh, yeah yeah. I figured you’d need energy and I wanted to see Akaashi too…” You retort, looking for your fellow first year in the gym.

• Bokuto issued you an expression of feigned hurt, hand on his chest and putting you at arms length as he hunched over.

“You wound me!”

“If that’s all it takes, I need to take notes.” The Nekoma player commented, this leaving Bokuto barking back at him before returning to ‘normalcy’.

“Anyway, this is my wonderful sibling (Y/n) and this is Kuroo Tetsurō. A middle blocker for Nekoma.”

“Nice to meet you Kuroo.”

“Likewise.”

• It was meant to be left at that, and each of you involved in that situation would’ve agreed too. Except, you found that the way he matched your wit magnetic, and how he’d join you when teasing Bokuto became a highlight of your time spent at the camp.

• Akaashi had noticed it too, addressing it rather bluntly since he was the one you lingered around most often.

“You and Kuroo-san get along well.”

“I know, he’s kinda cool. I’m glad I got to met players from other teams, no wonder Kōtarō likes these training camps so much.”

“You’re right, they are fun.” He’d dismissed is as friendly acquaintances. For now.

• It wasn’t until the next practice match between Fukurōdani and Nekoma that you saw Kuroo again (and you’d ensured to come by the gym before the match to see them). This time warmly greeting each other like friends rather than strangers. A ritual that continued very time Nekoma were involved in Volleyball events.

• It’s near the end of second year that Bokuto finally started to notice, this wasn’t how ‘just friends’ acted. Your brother was oblivious to this stuff usually, which is why it had taken an interaction longer to catch on, but when it came to you he was more observant with such things.

• It’s written in the way Kuroo leans in to listen to you; how you refill his and Kenmas bottles; that you seem to be laughing together more often than not; and in the way you look at each other. It incurs a narrowed analytic gaze from the Fukurōdani Ace.

• When you felt hands clasp your shoulders and steeer you away with an intimidating undertone to his upbeat voice, you figured he was on to your little crush.

“I’m taking (Y/n) away rooster hair, my sibling and I have things to discuss. Don’t we?”

“Crap.”

“Oh yeah, you’re damn right.”

• Golden eyes boared into you intently as if expecting you to spill all your secrets, Akaashi also present to such painful tactics.

“This isn’t going to work Bokuto-san.”

“Give it time Akaashi! I‘ve been unbeatable since we were kids.” The Ace dismissed, not breaking stern eye contact with you.

“Kōtarō, you’re an idiot.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Oh nothing about Kuroo hm? That scheming bastard not charming enough huh?”

“Yes he— I mean no— argh this is so unfair!”

“HAHA! See, told you I’d get ‘em.” Bokuto smugly nudged Akaashi who looked far too tired for your sibling antics right now.

• Well at least you’ll only see each other at volleyball events, which aren’t too frequent to build on. Especially a long as Bokuto lives and breathes.

“I got his number.”

“YOU WHAT?!” He’s dramatically shaking your shoulders as of its going to realign your senses.

“He — gave — number — in touch.”

“I’ll spike his stupid face!”

“You’d do that anyway.”

“Not the point (N/n)! I’ll do it 100x harder now!” It was rather eccentric, but you’d like to think he would actually commit to such a thing ‘purposefully’.

• So your secrets out. Bokuto isn’t happy about it. And Akaashi is the embodiment of Switzerland but with more conspiracy.

Oh you want a moment to talk to Kuroo without Bokuto knowing? He’ll distract him. Bokuto can’t supervise all the time? Akaashi is monitoring Kuroos interactions.

• However you manage to meet up in Tokyo without the pretences of volleyball games or training camps. It’s purely to see one another and through this developing friendship, and with each outing creating a level of comfort, it was natural for the flirty banter to start.

• Such a tiptoe game preceded to their third year, and it became dangerously obvious that the pair of you had a thing for each other but neither of you had acted on it. At first Bokuto was relieved and eager to pettily drag you away whenever the opportunity arose. But now he’d kind of understood that the growing feelings were more genuine than he’d originally assumed.

• It’s still a surprise when Kuroo charismatically pulls him away to an empty gymnasium after training, only to take a more awkward and serious tone when the nerves set in.

“Bokuto, you know you’re one of my best friends right?”

“Yeah man, but I’m not into you that way.”

“Woah, you wish frosty tips.” Kuroo breathed out with a smirk, more at ease thanks to that remark. “I was gonna ask for you blessing as lame as that sounds.”

“Eh? What for?”

“To ask (Y/n) on a date…”

That’s when the humour tainting his expression fades, when the amber in his eyes burn, and the muscles of his crossed arms tense up.

“I see.”

• It takes you a moment to grasp the situation too, of Tetsurō actually asking you to hang out with him after the camp ends - with the specificity of it being a date this time. It doesn’t take long for you to accept, even if you did tease him a little.

“Has becoming Captain made you braver?”

“Oya, I asked before you did (Y/n). Let alone the fact you couldn’t resist my offer~”

• Kuroo finds the situation the easiest to deal with you think, he acts natural even if he is a bundle of nerves underneath it all. His existing relationship with Bokuto and teasing personality make it easier to adjust to. Although sometimes you’ll over hear conversations between the two.

“Thanks for asking rooster hair. Anyway… how’s (Y/n)?” Bokuto asks, slightly more apprehensive than their previous conversation about teams.

“Happy I hope, though I annoyed them the other day - ate the last snack from the packet.” Kuroo snickered, only for Kōtarō to cut in.

“Yeah? You should try taking a bunch of photos, that really gets to (Y/n).”

“Hey?! Don’t help him!” You shout down.

• It amused you in the beginning, one specific time when Kuroo came to your door to pick you up only to find an expectant Bokuto.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. I can’t possibly allow my beloved sibling—”

“I have fried chicken.” Kuroo held up a warm takeout bag, conniving smirk in place.

“Deal, take ‘em wherever you want.”

“Kōtarō?!” You explained, your brother accepting the food without a second thought and ushering you toward the door.

“Eh? You haven’t bribed me in a while, rooster hair is my favourite right now. Out you go, don’t keep the man waiting.”

• They also go shopping together whenever it’s a celebration that involves you. They gladly put yen together for a big gift, or give one another recommendations - yet act completely innocent about it when you call them out on it.

• Sometimes you even feel like you’re third wheeling if Tetsurō visits the Bokuto household, their bromance truly was one of a kind. Though you didn’t mind, grateful that your brother and boyfriend got along so well.

• Bokuto still had that big brother protectiveness though and Kuroo was a scheming bastard when exploiting it. He’d playfully kiss you or show affection in front him - Kōtarō immediately pulling you into him with a look of utter disgust.

“How dare you lay your hands on (Y/n)?”

“Kou, he’s my boyfrie—“

“He knows what he did!”

• Overall it’s a positive experience, and it feels like Kuroo is already apart of the family due to the connections you each already share. They both make the effort to ensure you are happy when they can, and keep in touch fairly often. To be honest your certain they let the other know if your in a bad mood… so much for loyalty y’know?

• However, one thing you haven’t discovered yet, is that when Kuroo asked for Bokutos’ blessing, he readily accepted.

“I see.”

A look of contemplation, and then a beaming smile.

“Finally man! Course you have my blessing bedhead, I can tell you care about (Y/n) and would protect them like I would. Plus I know they’d be happy.”

“Thanks Bokuto, I’ll give it my best if they accept.”

“You better. Else I’ll kill you.” This was sinister, it was that deranged look he got when lost in a match, the one before the most earsplitting spikes - suddenly replaced with his usual carefree grin.

“Whatcha waiting for huh? Get out there and ask (Y/n)!”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

#asks #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #anime x reader #anime imagine #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou headcanons

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rei-ismyname · 3 days ago

Text

UNCANNY X-MEN #5 From The Ashes

First of all, I should acknowledge that something I've been calling a missed opportunity has received an attempt on page - the X-Men killing in FotHox, specifically Kurt. It's a single line and doesn't make a lot of sense, trying to have cake and eat it too by nodding to it in issue 5 but not meaningfully engaging with the recent past. Kurt did NOT think he was a killer, ever. That's just a bad faith reading of the text. He was in a war against genocidal fascists, come on.

Cool new form for Calico, though.

Kurt putting his sword/s away doesn't quite cut it. Errol Flynn swashbuckling has been an influence on him since he was a child and he's been big on sword usage almost since the beginning of his publication history. It's his thing, and he badly needs personality in FTA. Also, he didn't kill anyone with a sword in Fall, he teleported them into space. Swords parry and block, they disarm and intimidate. They have use outside of combat. They look cool, and it's something Kurt is very good at. So yeah, the barest attempt was made, but it didn't land for me. There could have been space to set it up and sell it too, perhaps by toning down the Charles Xavier/Sarah flashbacks that were ultimately just a fakeout.

Speaking of things that were given lip service in issue 5 and could have benefited from more attention, Jubilee told us who she is - kinda. A panel or two of origin story that was established in the 90s, but nothing about why she's here or what she wants out of life. How she feels about the loss of Krakoa, where the hell her baby, Shogo, is. It fits in with Uncanny's overarching sense of unfocusedness and her role could have been performed by anyone - not a good look for the end of the flagship book's first arc.

We get the resolution to and defeat of Sarah Gaunt. 'She's crazy, always has been' is so unsatisfying. I can't think of any other description. It's nice that we don't have another sin to lay at Xavier's door, but attempted baby trap is not a frequently used trope for a reason. She acknowledges she was lying, but then blames him for the loss of her son years later in a different country - then transfers that hatred to all mutants? Comicsxf have criticised her characterisation as 'Monstrous Mother' and I agree. What was the point of giving it so much space, to the extent that we spent more time in the past than with most of our putative main characters? She beat the shit out of Logan and Rogue the last two issues, nearly killing them - only for Rogue to draw strength from deus ex dead kid and completely wipe her out. It's lovely that Rogue is able to summon empathy for her, it shows us why she's a hero, but taken as an arc she's rewarded with victory despite making bad decisions. Long time readers know Rogue can lead, but I think Gail Simone is going to have to do the work to convince new readers that she's right for this. It's well and good to have moral authority but leading your team to death isn't.

Harvey X was unexpected but felt unearned. Surprise is fun but internal and narrative consistency is better. I thought it was Charles moving people around, because it was signposted. Harvey X being the puppet master felt almost silly as he revealed previously unseen very powerful abilities. Why would he wait for Rogue and Logan to be nearly dead to act? Maybe that's the only time he can act, because he's dead? Idk, at least he didn't scream how hot Rogue is again. He speaks about a sacrifice he's making but what sacrifice is that? Is his power finite and burns him out, Proteus-style? It's not quite clear, and I guess we'll never see him again.

Precognition. Healing. Telepathy.

Gambit and the Eye of Agamotto was a Chekhov's Gun that mostly worked (and made me feel sah smart for calling it.) Remy prays (?) to it and then blows the possessed cultists away. I'm pretty sure Jubilee could make a bigger boom than that (I know she can) but rule of cool wins the day.

These are/were captured and possessed mutants. I hope we see them again, especially after Fawn's introduction in #1. They're not doing this willingly.

Rogue flies to meet Warden Ellis to give her Sarah back, further muddling Ellis' characterisation. I have no idea what she's about now. Nuance is good in antagonists, but for someone who wants to crush mutants with her government mandate she's awfully cooperative with them. No threats, no riddles, no ultimatum, just meekly accepting two threats? I want to give a fuck about the closest thing we have to an antagonist (for a crossover event right around the corner) but there's nothing there! This was an opportunity for something, anything. Gah! I don't understand this writing.

Rogue's threat is interesting, though I have to wonder what she and Scott are going to disagree about. It's implied Jubilee will get captured, and we know Beast already has been. 2/3 X-Men teams have their motivation to wreck Graymalkin I just struggle to see them coming to blows over it.

Rogue and her elocution lessons feel very out of character and came out of nowhere. If it was setup earlier and tied to insecurity or identity that would work, but being introduced and haphazardly paid off in issue 5 baffles me, frankly. Rogue's southern upbringing is never something she's been ashamed of, her angst has almost always been related to her powers. She's a confident woman. A story where she struggles with that could have legs, but that's not the story that's been told. She certainly doesn't need Gambit or Logan to tell her - I'd expect it to be the other way around.

I'm not sure what to make of the images we get from Harvey X's visions of the future. I'll write about them separately if I find an interesting hook.

So ends the first arc of Uncanny X-Men volume whatever. My main issue is that it doesn't meaningfully engage with what came before it, and it doesn't quite manage to establish its own identity either. What is its mission statement and what kind of book can we expect? I don't know, and I hope Gail Simone does. It's not the end of the world, mind you. Following Krakoa was always going to be tough, and the world was going to feel smaller, less connected. I can't help but wonder what it might have felt like without a lot of Charles Xavier flashbacks amounting to nothing. Maybe we'd know more about Kurt or Jubilee, even the Outliers. Ideally that'll be corrected. I don't do number ratings so I'll just say it was okay, higher if you are a Rogue stan.

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justevelynnnn · 3 days ago

Text

I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine angst #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #brothel #post ww1 #logan howlett angst #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut

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