#masculine burping

[gassydumbjocks]

Its Good To Be A Man

Tyler close the door and throw himself to the sofa, exhausted after a day of work thanking it was finally over. He worked at a pretty good company, but being the only gay guy in his department and having to deal with homophobes and sexist co-workers was sometimes too much for him, so he thought about watching a movie or a tv show maybe to relax and sleep.

He started to look up in his VHS Cassettes' box and soon noticed that strangely, a new one was there, it didn't got any cover or stuff, and just had written "Its good to be a man" as the only title on it, he found it weird, but then supposed perhaps that his dumb jock of a roommie got it and put it with his stuff "I've told him not to touch my things like a million times, when is that brute gotta learn"

He had to admit the curiousity was hitting him, it was probably a home made video recorded by Connor and his gross buddies, but boy... after all, he was gay, and all of Connor's friends were toned ripped jocks from the gym (with a brain of a peanut size, but hot after all)

Thinking "maybe its just their excersizes routines... guess it wouldn't hurt to see" feeling a bit of a lust mood running in his body "ok, just a couple minutes...but i swear, if its just them having a belch off, im burning this" he said.

Putting the tape in the tv player, he clicked to put the video, and all of a sudden, the typical static sound shows, then a simple white screen, making Tyler raise an eyebrow, before what seemed to be a variety show intro plays, a smiling man in a suit which he supposed was the host, along a bunch athletic shirtless men with dumb expressions who followed next to him appeared in screen.

"Good to see ya again my brothers!" The host announces "this is your program where you learn how to be real MEN", as if it was a cue, the stud-bodied-like guys all grunted and beated their chests, like they were gorillas making a chanting "Uh!, Uh!, Uh!" and flexed their arms, making the audience laugh loudly, with those cocky grins Tyler knew so well, he rolled his eyes.

Making the host laugh aswell, he patted one of them in the back "That's what i talk about" he joked "Alright folks, tonight we'll indulge into an intense session of what it means to be a man, these guys here will serve as examples in showing you all stuff boys MUST do to become the alpha macho men they truly are" he adds, then, smirking, he takes a small device from his suit pocket.

"This little thing here made sure to leave them empty headed and obey any manly command given to them, just as it'll make sure to do the same for you, ma boy" he suddenly announces.

"...The hell?" Tyler said, arching his look again as he watched them "is this some bullshit hypnosis crap or?..." he asked

"That's right, dudes! Lets begin" the host shouted. "It's time to show off around what you're made of! We'll do something primal, no pun intented" he joked "We'll now do the first category: BURPING!, so, let's hear those nice bassy burps!" he says, turning to the group of jocks, as he pressed a button of that device.

Immediatly, they started to release loud and deep monsters of burps, at unison, as if they were in trance, still with those dumb expressions, and Tyler could swear he saw how one of them got his eyes crossed with a complete fool face.

Even worse, Tyler felt a strange urge to burp himself too. He tried to resist, but the feeling was overwhelming, he rubbed his gut hoping to calm it down, but he just letted out a loud, embarrassing belch, blushing immediatly

"Wha-BOOOOUUURRP?- Is happening?!" he said between belches, a little ashamed.

"Excellent!" the host cheered. "This is what i call a manly symphony!, but we also know there is another way to do that, right?" He asks the public with a mischevous grin "FARTING is a big part in the bonding among men, so, we just have to, let it rip right?" He asked again, as he pressed that little button.

Some of the guys turned around to show their butts, other simply proceed to lift their legs, but they all did the same, at the command of "letting rip" they instantly started a worthy orchestra of simultaneous farts, each sounding grosser and deepest than the last one

Tyler was grossed out and sick, he wanted it to stop, but as he bend over a bit over to approach the tv, his butt felt the need to drop a massive, and nasty monster of a deep fart, the loudest he've ever letted out, he could feel his butt vibrating at that one, sitting normally again, horrified and trying to cover his butt with his hands.

"This-BOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRPP!" He belched "Is a nightmare!..."

PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRTTTT!!!

That last fart seemed to do something on Tyler, he kept one second silent before, turning his head to the tv again, now with a dumb and foolish grin adorning his face "hahaha, dudee, i need to quit the bean dip next timee" he said in a lower, more manly voice.

"Whew! Guys! Ok ok its enough! Hahaha" The always happy host said, as he waved his hand to make the smell go away, as the dumb bunch of men kept blasting bombs out of their butts "Geez, dont anybody here think on turning on a lighter" he said bursting in laughing, making Tyler laugh too at the stupid joke.

"But for now, this is all we got for today's emmision, bros, we're glad that you could come with us in this, stinky, foul and manly lessons that every man needs to apply in his everyday, till the next program! Boys? Would you like to wave goodbay?" he asked with a grin.

The camera showed each of them, now it was sure they all had that same cross-eyed look and dumb smiles, like Tyler did, the staff offered a can of a kind of soda to one of them, which he drank in a single gulp, before removing it from his lips "GOOOD BYEEEEAAAAUUURRRRRP!" A massive belch came out, as he succesfully burp-talked, gaining again the laughs and applause from all the people in the set.

Meanwhile with Tyler, at the same time he also relaxed his muscles, and lifted a leg as he felt some pressure in his lower abdomen, he knew very well what that meant "Bombs away!" he said proudly, before the smelly, big and long fart made its way out of his crack.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!

"Hahah!" he chuckled "i think i just ruined my undies"

[maleburps]

Alpha man roars with stinky burps

[bigwishes]

Matching the Inside

"did I ask about side effects?" "no, but I still think you should hear me out"

Aden sat down to get on Nick's level.

"Listen here lil guy, you are the geeky smart guy, I'm the big guy, I asked you to whip me up something to make me the biggest guy and you said you could, now could you or are you fucking stupid and small?"

"Aden I understand but I still think you want to hear about th-"

"DONT CARE! JUST HAND IT OVER"

Nick sighed and handed over the small vial of green fluid over to Aden.

"Is this all?" Aden grunted.

Aden quickly downed the entire vial and flexed his muscles

"So when does this shit make me bigger?"

"s-soon Aden, just gotta wait a few ho-"

"WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF PIPSQUEAK!, if this shit fails I swear to god I'll be the fuck outta you then get my cash back"

Nick quickly left Aden to his own devices, he wasn't the best guy to get along with at the best of times and he didn't want to see how toxic Aden was going to become after an hour or so, but it was on him for not wanting to listen to the warnings...

-----

An hour of hard work had gone by and Aden had barely felt anything, sure he had a nasty pump and his skin felt like it was stretching by the second but nothing more than an unusually good day at the gym, however he did find one thing strange.

Aden was no stranger to sweat, but not normally this much, he was used to seeing his ass imprint when he stood up from the bench but not feeling it running down his body, not feeling it squelch in his shoes as he walked.

One of the gym attendants even asked him to please change his shoes as it was leaving huge sweaty imprints as he walked.

Aden sat down on a bench to catch his breath when he smelt something unbearable, it had to be a gym towel that had fallen behind a piece of equipment and left to reek for god knows how long. As Aden looked around for the source he couldn't find anything but when he lifted his arm he was hit by a wave of warm air that made him turn his nose up

the potent order was coming from him, and boy did he fucking reek.

Aden almost gagged on the stench of his own pits and stood up to grab his stuff to head home.

As he stood up his stomach let out a loud gurgling noise. It set in again, this time stronger and painful. Aden grabbed his stomach with both his hands and moaned and his gut continued to complain.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden let out a loud belch that rung out through the entire gym.

"wow, eat too much before the gym big guy haha"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Aden couldn't control it, before he could even respond he had let rip and belched in the guys face.

Multiple people started to call him a gross pig, and he was in too much discomfort to argue, he could barely get a word in before he burped or belched like a stupid brute.

On his way out he stopped at the mirror, his shoulders looked wider, his biceps fuller, his pecs were stretching out his tank like it was nothing, he couldn't help but admire himself, but the admiration quickly faded when his body automatically cocked open his jaw and forcefully rumbled out another masculine belch.

---

Aden had raced home, doing his best to deal with the horrible stench flowing from his body he imminently got in the shower, scrubbing himself for over and hour until there was no trace of BO left on him,

getting out of the shower he constantly sniffed his pits to make sure he smelt clean and fresh, the stench had seemed to vanish and the odd bloating all but gone, now it was time to see if the formula did anything or if he was going to crush Nick's spine with his own hands.

Aden slipped on his favourite pair of underwear and stood in front of his mirror, to his surprise he did actually look bigger, although barely, he had maybe gained a pound or two of muscle, but something looked wrong....

As Aden glanced down his incredible body he noticed his underwear was much flatter than usual, he tried to adjust himself but it felt like there was barely anything to adjust. As he pulled back the waist band he was horrified to see that his incredibly 10inch manhood and shrunken down into a pitiful 3 inches

"w-WHAT THE FUCK" Aden began to panic, his heart racing

Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and run down his face. As Aden paced around his room he didnt notice all the sweat forming all over his body, that was until the smell set in, when he finally saw himself in the mirror again he was slick from head to toe, droplets of sweat running down him and he stuck, a stench like he had just spent a month working out non stop.

His gut began to grumble once more as the pain set it, this time more intense, like his stomach was being inflated from the inside. Aden moaned and gritted his teeth in pain.

"w..w...what is...happening..tOO MEEE AAGGGHHHUUUUUUU"

Aden watched as his abs turned red and began to expand outwards.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden couldn't help but belch, but it granted him no relief, he watched helplessly as his reflection expanded and grew, sweat dripping off him flooding his floor with a pool of musk and belches escaping him every time he opened his mouth to moan or complain.

-----

A week had gone by since Aden's strange and powerful growth but a lot had changed since then.

In a week he had been banned from almost every gym in town, banned from every restaurant, his car seats had changed colour from the sweat along with every piece of fabric or furniture he owned, on top of which most had broken in some way shape or form.

He couldn't even go to any out door cafe's as he was asked to leave because his terrible BO and constant belches upset the other customers.

Aden had all but ruined his life for muscle and size, still he couldnt help but feel mostly joy when he looked in the mirror, the way his shoulders and traps swallowed his neck, how he couldn't see past his pecs. How only after a week his powerful muscled feet would tear through his shoes. He loved being huge, but he didn't love the side effects.

The belching and stench he had gotten used to but the biggest shock to his system was the hardon he got for guys now, he used to be such a ladies man but now he felt nothing towards women and almost instantly came whenever he saw another bodybuilder flex, but even that he was willing to embrace so long as he could stay this big.

Aden stood in front of his mirror and watched as grey tank slowly turn black as it soaked up his sweat. He picked up a blender from the belch filled with his freshly made shake, he began to guzzle it down like he hadn't eaten in days, the shake spilled out from the sides of his lips, dripped through his beard and onto his tank were it quickly formed prominent stains and marks.

Aden dropped the blender panting for air.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the sweating monster in the mirror. He couldn't help but notice the freak he had become,

grown too big, stretch marks all over his body, sweat and protein staining his clothes, BO so bad he could see it, and one hand pressed on his abs trying to force out another belch.

He finally matched what was on the inside

A total fuckin slob

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

How the Killers from DBD would react to you slapping their ass.

Hey guys! Welcome to my silly DBD headcanons, this was just for fun, worked with a great buddy of mine @despacitobandito! <3 They helped me and we overall had a great time making this together so I hope you all get a good laugh out of this. Also! Apparently more killers have come out since Unknown’s release that I didn’t write down during the making of this, sorry for missing any new killers! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 390

CW: Crack headcanons, nothing graphic, some reactions you’d expect from a slasher, contains killers up to Unknown!

Evan MacMillan - Trapper

• Insulted that you would ever touch his fine juicy ass.

Philip Ojomo - Wraith

• “Oh..!” You both are really awkward afterwards. Like just awkwardly staring at each other in silence.

Max Thompson Jr. - Hillbilly

• He’s genuinely startled by you slapping his ass, a little flattered probably.

Sally Smithson - Nurse

• Your hand phases through her and she slashes the shit out of you.

Michael Myers - Shape

• The thousand yard stare before he’d stab you in the face.

Lisa Sherwood - Hag

• *Minecraft skeleton noises.*

Herman Carter - Doctor

• *Farts electricity and electrocutes you.*

Anna - Huntress

• Stops humming. Run. Dude just run.

Bubba Sawyer - Cannibal

• Squeals and cries, you touched his no-no square.

Freddy Krueger - Nightmare

• Turns into literal dust because that’s what he deserves.

Amanda Young - Pig

• Instant bear trap, you don’t even get to find the key, as soon as it’s on, it snaps.

Jeffery Hawk - Clown

• Burp and fart combo.

Rin Yamaoka - Spirit

• You cut your hand since she has a glass shard sticking out of her ass cheek.

Frank, Julie, Susie and Joey - Legion

• They all gang up on you and kick you on the ground, JoJo style.

Adiris - Plague

• She pukes on you, like a baby.

Danny Johnson - Ghostface

• He liked it so much that he hunts you down for you to do it again.

Kazan Yamaoka - Oni

• Feels his masculinity being threatened and he hunts you every game to beat you violently.

Caleb Quinn - Deathslinger

• You traumatized the old man.

Pyramid Head - Executioner

• Execution via guillotine.

Talbot Grimes - Blight

• Immediately tries to vore you but he can’t as he doesn’t have movement in his lower jaw.

Charlotte Deshayes - Twins

• Victor shoots out of her chest and mauls you.

Ji-Woon Hak - Trickster

• Promoted to side hoe and discord kitten that manages his social media; you’re forced to listen to his music on loop on Spotify. There is no escape.

Nemesis

• “S.T.A.R.S.” *blows you up.*

Elliot Spencer - Cenobite

• “I came.”

Carmina Mora - Artist

• Screeches and crows swarm you.

Albert Wesker - Mastermind

• Look of pure disappointment before he hooks you. “Look but don’t touch.”

Tarhos Kovács - Knight

• “Oh good heavens!” *His and him gang mori you.*

Adriana Imai - Skull Merchant

• She cyberstalks you and cancels you on Twitter/X.

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky - Good Guy

• Punted across the whole damn map.

Unknown

• Snap, crackle, pop.

[hugebellyhoglover]

The Brotherhood of Girth

In a hidden corner of the old industrial district, behind an unassuming door marked only by the faintest engraving of a bear and a beer stein, stood a place known to only a select few. This was the Brotherhood of Girth—a private club, a sanctuary where men could gather in absolute freedom and comfort, without fear of judgment. Each member of the club was over fifty, bald, bearded, and as ruggedly masculine as they come. But the true bond that connected them ran far deeper, bound by a passion not often spoken of openly, at least not outside these walls.

Inside, a thick haze of smoke and the low rumble of laughter filled the air. The clink of steins, the frothy heads of dark ales, and the earthy scent of aged leather created an atmosphere unlike any other. These men weren’t here to discuss business or sports or politics. They were here for one reason: to indulge their love of immense, powerful, and beautifully round bellies—the kind that took years to cultivate and an unabashed appetite to maintain.

This was no ordinary club, and these were no ordinary men. They took pride in their appearance, each presenting himself like a monument of masculinity: broad, thick-shouldered, bearded, and proudly bald, embodying a rugged virility that seemed timeless. And yet, it wasn’t their imposing frames or fierce beards that brought them together. Their passion, their fascination, lay in the beauty of large, perfectly rounded guts—the bigger, the better. It was a shared joy, one that they celebrated with a camaraderie that was as open as it was intimate.

Every Thursday, they gathered, relishing the ritual as much as the act itself. As the evening progressed, they would settle into one of the club’s specially designed rooms, cozy but with plenty of space to accommodate their grand builds. Here, the men shared stories, ribbed each other good-naturedly, and toasted to the beauty of belly.

The evening would often begin with a few hearty burps, released freely as each man loosened his belt and leaned back, showing off the fruits of his labor. There were no airs to keep up, no need to stifle the sounds of satisfaction that came naturally after a hearty meal or a round of beer. In fact, these bodily exclamations were part of the charm, part of what made the place feel like home.

As the night settled in, the men began their ritual of sharing more than just drinks and stories. They took to displaying, admiring, and enjoying each other’s bellies with unrestrained enthusiasm. The warm amber glow of the club’s lamps cast a flattering light on their vast midsections, each one swollen and grand in its own unique way. Some bellies were taut and firm, others soft and inviting, but all were equally adored by the men who gathered to celebrate them.

In one corner, Big Jim reclined on a leather armchair, his expansive belly stretching out like a proud monument to his years of indulgence. His stein rested comfortably on the curve of his gut, which rose and fell with each hearty laugh. Next to him, Walt, known for the impressive girth he’d cultivated over the decades, placed a reverent hand on Jim’s belly, giving it a firm, friendly pat. A glint of admiration sparked in his eyes as he ran his hand over the tautness of Jim’s midsection.

“Jim, you’ve outdone yourself. That gut of yours has grown even more impressive since last week!” Walt said, his voice thick with genuine appreciation.

Jim grinned, lifting his stein in a toast. “Nothing but dedication to the craft, my friend,” he replied, letting out a deep burp that echoed around the room, met with a round of cheers and a few more burps in return.

Others gathered around, each man taking his turn to admire and even embrace Jim’s belly. There was no shame here, only a brotherly affection and a shared reverence for the hard work and dedication it took to grow such magnificent girths. Kneeling down, one of the newer members, Dave, gently pressed his hands to Jim’s belly, feeling its warmth and weight, his face alight with admiration. Dave, who had only recently achieved his own impressive gut, was thrilled to be a part of the tradition.

“You’re an inspiration to us all, Jim,” he murmured, his hands still pressed to Jim’s stomach.

Jim gave a hearty chuckle, reaching out to tousle Dave’s hair in a gesture both playful and affectionate. “Stick with it, kid. You’ve got potential.”

Meanwhile, in another corner, a circle had formed around Carl, whose belly had reached such a size that he’d become something of a club legend. The men gathered around him in awe, raising their mugs in salute to the sheer scale of his girth. Carl, always eager to put on a show, leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on his gut, and gave it a series of gentle pats that reverberated like a drum. He closed his eyes in contentment as hands reached out to stroke and admire, each man lost in appreciation.

There was something profoundly comforting about these gestures—this worship of the belly as both a symbol of pride and pleasure. For each man, his belly was a reminder of a life well-lived, a sign of indulgence, enjoyment, and the simple pleasures of food, drink, and camaraderie.

The night grew warmer as the men’s laughter and joy filled the room, their voices blending in a low, rolling melody that was as comforting as it was vibrant. At times, they would burst into hearty cheers, clinking their steins and downing their drinks, relishing the way each mouthful added just a bit more to the fullness of their guts. Some of the men enjoyed feeling the immediate bloat, the sense of their bellies expanding as they drank deeply, grinning at one another as their shirts grew tighter and their belts strained to accommodate the swell.

Those who had achieved the most impressive girths often became the focus of attention, their friends eager to touch, rub, and admire the results of years of dedication. Each embrace, each pat, each gentle rub was a testament to the mutual appreciation they shared. They were each, in their own way, sculptors of the human form, dedicated to the art of growing and glorifying the belly.

As the night wore on, they would gather in smaller groups, some kneeling in front of their friends to get a closer look at the curves and contours of each gut. There was something almost reverent in the way they treated each other’s bodies, like ancient artists admiring a sculpture. They would run their hands along the vast expanse of each belly, patting and rubbing, letting their admiration flow freely.

The room echoed with compliments and cheers, a round of laughter often punctuated by the sound of someone loosening their belt, or the sudden, unapologetic rumble of a burp or a fart. There were no pretenses here—just men who had found joy in the simple pleasures of life and weren’t afraid to show it.

Occasionally, they would share stories, each man recounting the meals, beers, and indulgences that had helped him grow his belly to its current glory. These tales were often told with a sense of pride, each man reliving the moments that had brought him closer to his goal. They spoke of rich feasts, late-night snacks, and the joy of sharing a drink with friends, each story painting a picture of a life spent in celebration of good company and good food.

And while they indulged in this ritual of admiration and affection, there was an undeniable sense of brotherhood that filled the room. They were more than just men with a shared interest—they were a family, bound by a love for life’s simplest pleasures and a commitment to living it to the fullest.

As dawn approached, the men gathered for one final toast. The air was thick with the smell of beer and the warmth of camaraderie, their bellies full and their spirits high. Raising their steins, they cheered to another night well spent, to the joys of brotherhood, and to the beauty of the belly.

“To the Brotherhood of Girth!”

[totallylala]

pick a pile: Your current Feminine energy

How to properly pick a pile: take a deep breath, in through the nose, out through your mouth, slowly. Say your name, 3 times to call your energy back to you. Say out loud, the title of the PAC, then close your eyes. Out loud, say Pile one, and wait. Pile 2, and wait. Pile 3, and wait. With your eyes closed, your Soul will guide you to the pile you need to hear from through signs from your body. See when you yawn, or burp? That's the pile for you.

This is a collective reading. It addresses a large crowd throughout time and space. Not every single thing can resonate with you. It is not a personal reading. So, only receive what aligns with your Heart and leave what doesn't.

Triggers: My readings can be triggering as per the depths I connect to. If you feel violently upset about the reading, breathe and check in with your Heart. You always have a choice to accept the truth, or reject it. Everything is a choice.

Pile One: I choose to focus on the good.

There is a lot of avoidance energy in this pile; Feminines who consciously choose to ignore certain part of the Feminine collective and focus solely on the parts that bring them what they want, on the part that fit their own narratives.

I’m seeing that, here, Feminine energy is used for a purpose only, on its own you see no use to the Feminine energy. You have a very limited vision of it. Your vision of the Feminine very much the one the toxic Masculine has. It is similar to the vision of the Feminine Patriarchy holds: a Feminine that has a very specific use and should therefore be used for that purpose and nothing else.

It is a vision that traps Feminine energy into a role, behind a golden cage, which closes you off from amazing opportunities. 

You seek the Feminine energy as weak and unable to take you where you desire, protect you, provide for you.

'Let your creativity pay you.' I hear. But you also have a distorted view of creative energy.

Your Jupiter suffers greatly. Because you have this amazing planet of expansion and abundance which desires to bring you opportunities for growth, for wisdom, for knowledge and for prosperity, but you reject them all constantly.

The energy of this pile as a Feminine is one of a Dog: loyal to the Masculine that has trained them into fearing change, fearing their own power and fear of standing in your own power. You’ve been trained into servitude and obedience to a master that….is that Masculine master treating you well, Feminine?

You feel like you have no choice but obey and stick to the Masculine’s side regardless how wrong and detestable their views are against everything that you are, want to be, and need, because you were made to believe that this is all you can aspire to. I am sensing some of you Pile one are stuck in a moral battle following the US elections.

I am feeling so many Feminines in this piles resenting Feminism and thinking it is the source of their struggles. They don’t want to work, they don’t want to hustle and suffer…. Who said you had to?

Feminism is the movement that fought for women to have the right to educate themselves and read books. It is the moment that gave you the right to no longer be property but a person, as such you no longer belong, by law to the male of your house (father or elder brother or uncle, etc) first, and then your husband. You are a person in your own right. Feminism gave you the right to vote in the society you live in. Feminism is the mouvement that gave you the right to choose whether you want to have children or not. It is the moment that brought to light the sexual violence women, married or not, faced at the hands of men. Being forced into pregnancy by non consensual sex. The moment fought for the end of slavery so all women could be free and not belong to any man. It gave you the right to travel on your own, and be outside of your house without a chaperone.

Educate yourself before resenting the freedom you enjoy. The hard life you resent is the result of capitalism and patriarchy. Greed of the riches impovering those who have less than them, and resentment at women seeking to build a life of their own and no longer being propriety for men to violate led to measures to push women back into unions that not only dimmed their light, but also completely stole it from them. It is an entirely different thing.

Understand that as a Feminine being, you are a creator. Once you reconnect to the energy of fertility and creation, you will be able to create the life you desire as you desire to.

Your joy is the ultimate creator. Your joy and your pleasure. 

Can you say with honesty that you feel complete joy at your life and the person that you are? Can you say that your body lights up at the thought of going through with your day? Do you smile randomly throughout your day knowing you are exactly who you dream of being at the bottom of your heart and you made your dream come true for yourself? 

Can you look into the mirror and tell yourself you love yourself with your whole heart?

Pile 1, the card ‘Answer the call’ came for you.

It seems you have felt disconnected from your Feminine energy, from your life or even your Heart lately. I feel a singing that has stopped. A heart that used to be buzzing with so much energy that now no longer vibrates on this frequency, the buzzing can no longer be heard.

You are called from the depths of your own being, to find yourself again. Before you are lost to the shame, the guilt, and the darkness that has slowly been consuming you, before you become this person that lives on auto pilote and moves through the motion of life without truly being there, forever. It is not too late. All it takes is the courage to put a step in front of the others towards another door.

I am being shown a situation where it is not safe for a Feminine to be who they want to be, because of their family, the people they live with and depend on.

I am shown to start the inner work, as you reclaim thee lost pieces of your own self, you will gain strength and be able to receive more opportunities. These opportunities will align you with your freedom. It’ll be a slow but steady journey into reclamation of your Feminine and reclamation of your joy and life.

You have to look at this whole situation, and who you are in a different light. First, you have to be honest with yourself. I feel like you refuse to face the truth because deep down, you hate yourself. You hate that you cannot be this Feminine goddess who rests, loves, makes loves to a counterpart that loves you gently. You dream of softness and beauty and art and you hate who you’ve settled to become instead. You have told yourself your dreams cannot come true, it’s unrealistic and you hate on women and Feminine beings who experience the love, the ease, the flow and joy you crave. I am seeing you send so much evil eye and negative energy towards other women. There is also for some of you a racism angle to this: you particularly hate on Black women who have what you don’t. You were told you were better than Black women, that they were the bottom of the food chain, and so you don’t understand nor can accept when a Black woman is being loved as you desire to be love (but aren’t, earning lots of money, being successful and living the life you aspire to but haven’t achieve.

I feel this wound of envy, hatred and anger in my left side, on the middle back. It is so sharp it hinders my breathing. 

Until you admit to yourself the envy and hatred you hold in your heart and why, it’ll continue not only to eat you alive, but hinder you from actually healing, and creating the life of your dreams. You cannot free yourself and step into your Divine Feminine self from a place of hatred towards the Divine Feminine.

Pile Two: I choose Joy, I surrender.

Exhaustion is the first word that resonated into my space as I felt this pile.

You are at the end of a long road, Pile 2. You have stopped pretending. I am seeing this is no longer something you’re willing to do. The energies of Sekhmet and Lilith came forward so strongly, like a powerful whoosh. A gust of wind that filled the space.

You put your foot down, pile 2. You decided to stop pretending, playing princess and actually become a fucking Queen.

You decided the Feminine you aspire to become was worth the destruction of the person you currently were, and the life you led along with it.

And the Dark Feminine is showing up to support your transformation journey. Destruction is what leads to creation. Only by destroying what no longer has a place in your life can you have the space to create what you truly desire.

I am seeing so much red and crimson and a deep burgundy. I am seeing light coming from a fire so pure. You are in the process of reconnecting to your Dark Feminine by unleashing your rage. It is giving you the strength necessary to set the world ablaze.

“As long as you choose Love, you choose you,” Sekhmet says. “It takes strength to choose Love, no matter what. It is a lonely road and not many have the courage to walk a path by their own selves.”

Validate yourself. 

Have pride in your choice, knowing not many have the courage to make the same one.

This transformation cycle of yours will be extremely busy. It’ll bring so many feelings up to the surfaces that you will need to discuss with the Feminines around you. I see a lot of discussions and receptivity as well. Friendsips will end as you no longer ar e willing to compromise on your Heart, your principles and it is important to let them go. You will receive connections that don’t demand you to betray your Heart, and will allow you to be your fullest and truest self.

Be gentle with yourself along this process, understand it is a journey. You will slip up; You will hesitate. It’s okay to fear loosing it all. It’s okay to need a minute. Just keep asking your Heart, feeling your rage, and having the courage to demand more. From the world and from yourself.

It is not a time for you to mindlessly argue though, Spirit is showing me to not bother with communication with those whom you feel just want to argue. If you sense they are not connecting to your Heart but instead wants your attention, your time… let them go and rest your voice.

In a time of transformation, your Mind cannot be the compass, you must learn to trust your Heart. This is where your Dark Feminine lies, where your power lies. In times of transformation, chaos surrounds you and you cannot see clearly through it. Your Heart can as it your Soul. Trust that. Even if none of the steps it guides you to take make sense. Trust your Self.

Pile Three: I was born to be free, I choose to be free.

When you look in the mirror, what do you see Pile 3?

I see a swan and beautiful pink roses, blooming incessantly. I see an elegant dive to the depths of the lake. I see a graceful glide over the unperturbed waters. I see ease. I see flow.

But you don’t see that. You feel as if you’re not there yet. You feel like you haven’t connected to your Feminine energy, as if you’re not doing the right things. Feminine energy isn’t doing, it is an embodiment. Masculine energy is in our actions; Feminine energy is in our embodiment, our stillness. Consciousness and Matter.

I see you longing for a home not realising that you embody it. You seek to uncover the secrets of the Moon and dance with Venus, not feeling their intimate whispers in your ears. Venus is in your dedication to your Feminine and your respect. The Moon flows with you in the way you navigate life and all these little inconveniences.

You’ve learned to navigate your emotions, to accept your emotional self, your sensitivity. You have stopped telling yourself you feel too much, are too much, and cry too much. You now love and respect your sensitive heart, and you hold space for it.

You’ve done well, Pile 3.

All that is left to do now, is for you to let go of the shadow of your past self, the one that didn’t love and respect your sensitive Heart. It is time for you to see yourself, who you have become and embody, and let go of the past self you still believe you are.

Let go of them, so you can finally move forward at great speed.

I feel so much restrictions and frustrations in your energy and even in your life. These are the product of you operating from the past self and not fully embodying this loving Feminine. Your curent iteration wants to have fun, and would have an easier time manifesting shit if they were’t held back but the shadow of your past self, gritting their teeth in anger and frustration.

They don’t understand why you allow yourself to be happy and ‘so damn emotional’. These words had a male voice when spoken into my mind, so I’m sensing there were men around you throughout your life, who repeatedly told you that your sensitivity was too much, and a burden, and something to get rid of.

As you are currently still holding onto these men and the love you have for them, the fear you have of them and because they have a strong hold on you, you haven’t been able to get rid of your past self.

A cord cutting would enable you to let go of that past self, but also to free yourself from the negative hold these men have on you. Once you let go, let it all go, you’ll be able to move forward in life with much more ease. Your cup will start filling top and your ability to trust and receive will be the only things left to work on. 

The cord cutting you will do will need to address the Head space (Crown energetic center, Mind center and the limiting beliefs they filled your head with). 

You’re doing great, Pile 3!

I hope this reading brought the healing you needed to receive at this time 🌻✨.

With love, Lala 🌸

[octuscle]

Bowling Night

"Bowling? Really?" Francis was fuming with rage. His friend was finally back home after two weeks away on business. He had dressed up. He had been looking forward to a romantic evening. And now his friend was taking him to a shabby bowling center full of fat rednecks. "Darling, please! I had five-course dinners every night for two weeks, had to make small talk in a suit every night. I was looking forward to seeing you so much. But I want to do something really simple tonight. I don't know how I came across bowling myself, but I passed this place on my way from the airport. And somehow I really felt like it now." Konstantin took his friend tenderly in his arms and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Francis tapped his pink sneakers on the floor. Konstantin knew his friend only too well. He knew he couldn't stay angry for long. He gently pulled Francis out of the parking lot and towards the bowling center. Maybe it was going to be a nice and relaxed evening after all. He had always loved going bowling as a child. He had loved celebrating his childhood birthday at the bowling alley. But it must have been…. "YUCK!" Francis cried out. "I'm not wearing those shoes in my life. They're disgusting. What brand is that anyway?" The young man at the counter rolled his eyes. Konstantin tried to calm everything down. Francis struggled to calm down. Konstantin had promised him a glass of sparkling wine. He could usually always calm Francis down with that. And it seemed to be working now too. Konstantin took Francis in his arms and they walked to their train together. Francis continued to grumble quietly to himself. "And when is my champagne coming now?" he asked. "Yo, two brewskis for two browskis?" Francis looked at the young man like an insect to be squashed

"I've already got a beer, you can have that. I'll get a second one for you, buddy." The young man pressed an ice-cold bottle into Francis' hand. He smelled of sweat and Axe. Francis almost had to hold his nose. But then he looked the waiter in the eye. Beautiful blue eyes. Damn, what a face. Features as if chiseled from granite. And even though he didn't know what was coming over him, he gave the waiter a fist bump and said, "Thanks buddy, you're such a lifesaver!" And to Konstantin he said "Come on then, let's throw some bowling balls." Shit, for supposedly still bowling, he was good. Damn good, Konstantin thought to himself. And how did Francis know the waitress? The two of them seemed so familiar, as if they'd known each other since kindergarten? A burp from Francis snapped Konstantin out of his thoughts. "Bro, like seriously? Wake up, it's totally your go!" Konstantin's eyes were almost watering from the stench of nachos, beer and cigarettes that Francis had belched out. They didn't have any nachos. And Francis didn't smoke. "Yo, Chuck! We're all thirsting for another round of brewskis, and hey, you got any cancer sticks on deck?" Francis called out to the waiter. The legs of his sweatpants were tucked into white socks that were no longer quite clean. And what had he done to his hair? Konstantin threw his ball. Strike! He turned around. And saw Francis openly grabbing the crotch of the waiter, who had just returned with beer and cigarettes, and sticking his tongue down his throat. Francis registered Konstantin's horrified look with a grin. "Yo fam, Chuck is gonna roll up later on. I'm thinking a triple threat situation would be straight fire to cap off this lit night, amirite?" Francis stood up, took Konstantin's head and pulled him towards him. And then he gave Konstantin a deep, long French kiss. Konstantin felt dizzy. Francis stank. No, he smelled male. Very masculine. And he tasted masculine. And he felt masculine. Konstantin wanted to run Francis through his curls. But there were no more curls. There was only cropped hair. Francis pressed his crotch against Konstantin's. Both their cocks were hard as steel. "We gonna have that lit threesome later, but right now, I need you, like ASAP, like yesterday! Hurry up, babe!" Francis whispered in Konstantin's ear. And pulled him towards the toilet.

Always when Stan rolled back from a away gig, Frank went total cray-cray like a hyped-up rabbit. Those two went at it like wild animals in the john. Chuck totally saw that coming, no more bowling for them today, duh. When Frank and Stan finally strolled back, Chuck was there waiting with three brewskis like a boss. "Yo, chill out outside while I dim the lights. Hope you've got some juice left for me!" Stan and Frank just grinned and nodded. They sauntered out to the lot, Stan sparking up a ciggie. The night was just getting started, y'all! 🍻💥✨

[theleomarspt2]

Twt: @/massivefeetboy

[cardierreh15]

The Lady in Black

🖤☺️ eek

***i do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Dub-Con , Cursing , Smut , Cheating , Use of Restraints , Tentacles??? , Choking , Violence , Blood & Gore , Oral (Male Receiving) Pain Play , Doggy Style , Facial Shot , Licking/Swallowing of Bodily Fluids (Blood & Semen)

Pairings: Kal-El x Black!Female Venom 🖤

Description: When the subject of time and space has been disrupted once more, Superman and Lady Venom, have their first interesting meeting.

Word Count: 4.2K

Song: Demons by Doja Cat , One of Your Girls by Troye Sivan 🖤

Side Note: I wanna thank @milknhonies , Tokio and my amazing husband for beta reading and helping me basically bring this idea to life 🖤 I truly adore you guys.

Clark studied the area that was garnished with the limbs of unfortunate victims. He came to the quick conclusion that no human could’ve done something like this. He folded his large arms across his chest as he gently descended to the dewey grass. His face curled up in a grimace as he pondered on his next move. He felt terrible that he wasn’t able to make it here to save them, but sometimes these things happen.

Brushing that guilt aside, he carefully examined the area once more. Being mindful with each step, he wouldn’t know how to explain to the chief of police why the ankles and wrists of these folks were flattened.

With the scent of iron and blood filling his senses, he was about ready to go. He wasn’t usually the type to have a weak stomach but with the lack of sleep he was receiving work and being Superman, anything would alter one’s brain chemistry.

Suddenly, a silver light twinkled into view. He’d approached it and lifted the blood stained metal out of the dirt. Running his thumb over the medallion to clear the face clean of blood and dirt, he read the words etched in it.

‘Life Foundation.’ It was unfamiliar to him so he flipped it over to read the contents on the back. ‘Stewart L. Mendoza. 0741670…’ Then he flipped it back over to study the etching once more.

His thick brows tugged into one as he tried to piece together some things but he just drew a blank. So, he just dropped the medallion and walked over to empty space where he’d landed. But before he could take off, he heard a burp.

Snapping his head over his shoulder, he waited patiently for the perpetrator to reveal themselves. But then, a twig snapped.

‘Show yourself!’ Clark exclaimed as he blinked once, activating his x-ray vision. But he failed to detect anything.

‘KAL-EL.’

A voice rang through the air, a feminine tone but was masked with something inhuman and unnatural.

Clark turned around swiftly to see the white eyes of a creature standing on a branch. The rest of her body was hidden within the shadows of the setting sun.

‘What have you done with these people?’

‘They attacked me, I fought back… some of them are finding a home within my digestive system and the rest of them are amongst you.’ She said before she let out a gleeful snicker.

The glare of disgust and disapproval was written all over his masculine features. ‘Come down here so we can talk about what happened further.’

‘Hmm.’ The creature purred as she carefully stepped forward into the golden sunset. She was covered in slick blackness from the top of her head to her toes. She had big white intimidating eyes, and a monstrous smile with more than enough teeth to make a statement and a slinky yet alluring tongue.

She was nothing like Clark had ever seen before and he had seen the most oddities of things. He allowed his eyes to study her once more.

She had a curvy frame; large breasts that would even spill over within his grasp. Her hips were delectable and wide that matched her thick, doughy thighs. They looked soft to the touch, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they were padded with muscles by how toned her legs were.

‘Oh I don’t think so…See, I heard you Kryptonians could be a little… entitled.’ She let out a litter of teasing giggles as she plopped down on the strong branch and began to look at her sharp claws.

‘What do you know of my people?!’ Kal hissed, his heat vision blinding his own view.

‘Oh please, put those away before you hurt yourself!’ She fell back, hanging herself upside down on the branch, ‘I was only teasing.’

Kal’s eyes slowly faded back to their regular cobalt blue before he let out a gentle sigh. ‘Could you tell me what happened?’

The woman looked over at him with a blank stare, ‘Why? You’re gonna hurt me?’

‘Unless you give me a reason to.’

She sneered, ‘Hurt me. Tehehe, you’re cute.’ She mewed out seductively. ‘But I’m afraid I ain’t too much like the other bad men you play around with.’

Heat in his cheeks bloomed before traveling to his neck where he grew a little warmer than before. The way she spoke to him, she had so much sas! Usually, Kal knew what to do in situations like this but it was obvious he’d never dealt with someone— something like this.

‘Alright.’ He swallowed his spit and placed one hand on his hip, ‘Can you tell me where you’re from? And who were these guys? What is Life Foundation?’

‘Ugh!’ The being had finally swung herself off of the tree and landed on her toes as if she were a cat. ‘You’re nosey too? Sheesh.’ She folded her arms, popping her hip out as she admired him from where he stood. He was such a fine specimen. Good enough to eat… good enough to fuck.

The Kryptonian grew impatient with her antics, ‘Answer me or I’ll just have to force it out of you!’ His voice darkened.

‘Awwww you promise?’ She clasped her claws together in a begging manner while a big dreadful grin curled up on her face.

Playtime was over and his patience had run out, ‘This is my final warning!’

‘Oh boy. Someone’s a lil ang-wy! Careful now Kryptonian, I don’t take nicely to threats.’

‘Perhaps it’s not a threat.’

She rolled her eyes, ‘OK enough!’ Hissing before she ran towards him, faster than the speed of light and head butted him so hard, he flew through the trees. ‘Sheesh, you’re cute but you just talk too damn much!’ She snarled, her long tongue grazing over her pretty white canine teeth.

Kal had crashed into a large oak tree, ‘UGH!’ He exclaimed before he’d collapsed to his knees and then to his hands. ‘Aah!’

She’d already made it to him, hiding high up in a tree like a Leopard ready to pounce on her prey.

‘When will you learn that there are things bigger than you, Kal-El? … Stronger than you?’

Her words echoed loudly in the woods. So damn haunting but he was so blinded by rage, they sounded muffled over the piercing ringing in his ears.

Without warning, Kal’s head snapped up and he released his heat vision, burning and cutting through all the branches and trees before him.

Returning to normal, his eyes began to scan the area for her before his anger got to him, ‘WHERE ARE YOU?!’

She’d slowly began to scale down the tree, quiet as a hungry lioness. This was as intense as a nature documentary. The very fine line between what made predators the top of the food chain, and what made prey so dangerous when trying to fight for their life. She knew who she was dealing with, and if she planned this wrong, he could snap her in half all the same.

Hell, it may teach her some manners.

Once she planted her feet on the ground, she kicked Kal on the back of his knee causing him to drop to the ground once again.

‘Ugh!’ He exclaimed, ‘I’m trying to take it easy on you.’ He whimpered, he looked up at her as she stood before him in all her villainy glory.

‘Are you?’ She grabbed his jaw in her claws and lifted him up off of his knees and slammed him against the tree. Long thick tentacles began to arise from her backside and began to slowly journey up his intricate body. She could feel him this way too. Every tentacle had it’s very own series of nerve endings. She could feel his muscles tense and cringe with each touch.

‘Mmph!’ He grunted out, turning his head away as her tongue began to explore the side of his cheek. Her touch, stranger and more foreign than anything he’s fought, made his skin crawl.

‘Oh what’s the matter baby?’ She cooed out, giving him a big toothy grin as her extra limbs wrapped around his thighs and arms, ‘Afraid of a little BDSM?’ She cackled as a final tentacle wrapped around his neck.

Kal did his best trying to tear away from these extra limbs but the inhuman strength they had on him had him questioning his own.

‘Who…are… you?!’ He gritted through his teeth.

‘I’m the best you’ve ever had!’ She said softly as her dainty claws draped from his jaw to his abdomen where she pressed her claw into his flesh.

Kal erupted a loud grunt as his head fell back against the tree. Tears brimmed his eyes for a second at the sudden pain of being stabbed. He hadn’t felt anything like that since… well you know.

‘The best villain. The best teacher… the best— lover.’ She moaned softly before her tongue thrashed once more on the side of his face, tasting his salty sweat.

She slowly pulled her finger out of his abdomen and placed his blood on her tongue. The taste of iron and sweetness danced on her tongue. It had awakened something more salacious inside of her.

‘Mm, and you taste good…let’s see.’ she purred out as she placed her hands on his hips and slowly began to descend to her knees. Her tongue licked at his wound once more, causing Kal to whimper at the tender pain.

‘What are you doing?’ He breathed out as his head hung forward.

‘I hear… you have a woman.. Kal-El.’

Kal jerked as hard as he could against the tentacles but they held him nice and tight, ‘You don’t know anything about me!’

She smirked, looking up at him as she slowly rose to her feet, ‘Oh but I do, my sweet— sweet boy. More than you can imagine.’ A claw scraped down his cheek, cutting his flesh once more as he shut his eyes and gritted his teeth together.

Another taste.

‘I know that… humans… aren’t built to satisfy you. Not like you want to be. I know that you’re also having trouble receiving pleasure because you can’t explore and fulfill your full… potential… ain’t that right, Clark Kent?’

Kal’s head popped up to look at her in her eyes. ‘How do you know that name?’ He gritted through his teeth.

‘I told you sweet pea… I know everything… just like I know—‘ she reached down between them and palmed the semi-hard on that was in his bottoms. He felt massive in her palm.

Kal shut his eyes in defeat as his head fell forward once again.

‘Oh, you don’t have to be ashamed sweetie… it’s natural.’ She cooed as she clawed at the hips of his suit. ‘Just allow me to help you finally conquer your wildest dreams.’ She allowed her tongue to explore him one more time. And this time he didn’t fight, he let out a low sigh as she gently tugged his bottoms down below his hips.

With his member standing at full attention, he was everything she thought he’d be. Veiny and girthy with the length of a well hung porn star and big heavy balls to match.

He was literally perfect.

She dropped to her knees as the symbiote revealed her brown busty breasts. Then, she opened her mouth nice and wide for him as her freakishly long tongue began to tease and caress at the tenderness of his manhood.

Kal’s knees instantly buckled as he watched her tongue flick and lick at his dick before she finally wrapped her warm lips around him and began to suck him off. As she did so, she fondled and toyed with her tits.

Muffled moans escaped his lips as she went to work on him as if she were tryna get paid for it. It felt so damn good but he couldn’t let her know she was doing a good job. Plus, he was cheating on Lois! Was this cheating? He didn’t really want this… did he?

Trembling and flexing thighs were doing just enough telling. But it only encouraged her to snatch his soul from within him. Reaching beneath him, she squeezed his balls gently in her palm as she forced him down her throat.

And my, were they heavy.

‘Oh! —please. Please. Uh!’ He begged as his head lulled back against the tree, eyes crossing inward as he’d seem to lose control of his body. ‘Mm— don’t..‘ he couldn’t even form the words! His mind was so damn jumbled up with a little bit of lust and something else he’s never felt before.

She pulled away, teasingly stroking his member as a thick string of saliva snapped between them. Bubbles and sticky saliva dribbled down her chin to the valley of her pretty brown tits. ‘That’s enough of that.’ She bounced up gently before grabbing his face, forcing him to bring those disgraced eyes to her face.

Her monstrous grill had peeled back and revealed some full, supple lips with pretty white teeth behind them. Lips that just seem so familiar to him. ‘If it’ll make you feel better… I can give you the human body parts… two sets of pretty, soft lips.’ She drug the tip of her tongue against his trembling lips, ‘I’m not gonna hurt you baby. I only wanna make you feel good.’ She said before embracing his cool lips in her warm wet ones.

She slithered her tongue between his teeth, as he finally opened his mouth a little more to let her explore and evade. They both fought for dominance in each other’s mouths. For once, Kal didn’t feel like he needed to take it slow or be careful. He finally felt… free.

When she’d broken the kiss, she turned her backside against him and pushed her hips back against his throbbing cock where she began grinding her ass against him.

Kal’s head fell forward, licking at his lips as he watched her voluptuous ass hug and grind against him desperately. His bright blue eyes dilated with drool falling free from his lips.

Suddenly, the symbiote began to slowly peel away down her spine, exposing her gorgeous tawny brown skin. As she bent over a little, the thick, black sticky flesh peeled back more, revealing her two cute little back dimples before showing off her ass that reminded him of two globes.

Kal began to pant like a thirsty hound, as he writhed a little beneath the symbiote’s grip. Not to get away this time but to fuel his desires and needs. He had never felt such a powerful feeling like this! It was like he was going into heat! It clouded his judgment; making it literally impossible for him to choose between good and bad. An animalistic trait.

Perhaps this was good for him. He needed this release.

But he wasn’t thinking about those he’d hurt in the process… Lois. Or maybe he just didn’t give a shit at that moment.

She’d pressed her backside against him further, feeling the familiar warmth of desire brewing within her womb. Her core of her womanhood became sticky with the thought of his cock stretching her out as she sought to make him fit in every crevice within.

Hymns of purrs and moans escaped her lips as her own teasing began to drive herself nuts. She looked back over her shoulder at Clark who was gone with sexual hunger. She licked at her fingers slowly before descending them down to her pussy.

So turned on by the way he looked at her, she began to rub at her erected numb, collecting some of her sticky nectar and rubbing it out once more.

‘Mmm, you ready to stretch me out?’

Kal tried pulling from the tentacles again, he was practically foaming at the mouth! He gave her a hard nod before he murmured out, ‘Y-yes.’

A licentious grin curled on her lips as she took ahold of his member and caressed that sweet spot where the tip and his shaft intersected. She gave it a gentle squeeze, feeling the stiff muscle throb with mercy in her soft palm.

Kal let out a silent curse, as he balled up his fists.

Standing on her tipping toes, she guided the tip of his cock towards her core before she pushed her hips up against him, forcibly sinking him into herself.

She let out a raspy cry as his member delved and nestled deep against her walls, invading and creating its home within her.

Kal let out an animalistic groan as the symbiote’s hold on him grew tighter as if it wanted them closer together. ‘Uhhhh!’ He moaned as his cheeks burned with a fervidus fever. ‘God!’

‘Nuh uh baby…’ She shuddered out, feeling the numbness from her toes creep and kneaded it’s way into her belly with shocks and tremors of pleasure tingling at her chocolate kisses nipples.

‘Just me.’ She added before she began to slowly throw her ass back against him.

It was at that moment where Kal had completely forgotten about everything and now his main focus was on her. No worries of the world. Not having to worry about his responsibilities as Superman. Not having to worry about simply breaking or killing her because she wasn’t human. He felt like he could truly release the hold that stricken him for the past 40 years.

He deserved this. Or that’s what he was telling himself.

As she and the symbiote worked as one; pushing and pulling her body against him, they both let out a series of moans. She was having a damn good time taking advantage. But Kal on the other hand was becoming too needy and desperate. He wanted to touch her.

‘Release…me…please.’ He begged through his moans, ‘I want… feel. Ugh fuck.’

She muddled and twisted her hips in an arrhythmic dance. And it was driving both of them insane.

‘Uhhh! Please!’ His bright eyes flashed open, looking down at her.

She peered back at him before carefully pulling her hips away. ‘You’re begging… I found you attractive before but now… baby you look so miserable.’ She giggled as she gave the tip of his cock a thump. ‘Sexy as fuck.’

Kal flinched at the addictive pain and moaned. ‘I promise…’ he huffed out, ‘I promise I’ll make it worth your while just… let me.’

She stared at him for a long moment, ‘I suppose.’ She said before waving her hand, ordering the symbiote to release him from the hold. It slowly unwrapped from around his thighs and legs, then his waist and then his arms. He’d collapsed to his hands and knees before her.

She turned around and got on her hands and knees; ass up in the air as she arched her back, like a sleepy feline.

Kal stood up on his knees, grinning with eyes as crazed like a mad man who had just struck gold. He’d placed his large warm hands against her thick thighs and gave them a desperate squeeze. Just as he’d thought, soft like marshmallows.

He pulled her back closer to him before taking a hold of his uncut cock and kissed her slit with the tip of it. She was so sticky, so creamy and messy. He adored it! He wasted no more time before he rammed it into her tight abyss once again.

‘Aaah!’ She moaned out in a harsh gasp.

He began to thrust his hips forward, slowly and teasingly only to get payback.

‘Stop. Being. Oof! A. Teeease and fuck me!’ She moaned out ruggedly.

The symbiote began to wrap itself around him once again. Around his throat and down below at the hilt of his balls.

At the sensitive touch, it only fueled his desires further. All he wanted to do was unleash his full potential and he was going to do that and so much more. So, he began to thrust his hips a little faster and a little harder.

Her wails and cries echoed throughout the woods along with their flesh just crashing into one another like a neutron star collision. There was so much force, so much power… they could terraform this area within the hour!

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck! Kal! Aah! Don’t fucking stop, yes!’ She moaned out as her claws dug within the moist soil beneath them. She could feel him beating down her walls at every angle.

His thumb pads were pressed firmly within her back dimples as he held on to her tightly. ‘Fuck this feels so good!’ His brows tugged into one as he relished in this newfound pleasure. If he ever said sex with Lois was mind blowing like this… boy he was wrong.

He’d just never had his taste at alien pussy before and he knew he couldn’t go back to humans after this. They merely weren’t enough to handle him. Hell, she barely could!

Desperate grunts and howls flowed from Kal’s chest in a string of melodies as he continued to dig his hips into her, pining closer and closer to his release.

That was until he lost his grasp and she tried to crawl away. Trying to take her dominance back. But he merely snatched her back towards him.

‘Where are you going?!’ His tone was dark and filled with bane.

‘Aah!’ She exclaimed as her body began to heat up. ‘KAL-EL! Have mercy!’ She whined out as she reached between her legs and kneaded at her clit.

There was no way she was really asking him for mercy… after her evil ways.

‘No!’ He barked as he pounded harder.

A sick, carnal groan rumbled in her chest as she blissfully took this punishment from him. Sultry and sexy giggles left her lips as they took each other on a wild trip of ecstasy. Fueling each other’s salacious and dark fantasies. Now this was her idea of fun.

After a while, Kal’s groaning had become even more constant with his thrusts becoming staggering with lack of rhythm. He was close.

She began to twerk her ass against him, completely taking over in the final moments. The symbiote began to tighten around his neck and balls, causing a smile of pleasure to curl on his lips.

‘Fuck!’ He cried out as his blue eyes began to roll back. ‘I’m— I’m gonna—‘ he stuttered.

Quickly shifting positions at his announcement, she turned around to face him and wrapped her luscious lips around his member and sucked him clean. She then pulled away allowing her tongue to flick and tease at his tip.

His hips jerked forward as he began to leak on her tongue. ‘Hooo.. that’s it baby.’ As he reached down to cup her jaw before she began to suck him off again.

She throated him one good time before pulling away and jerking him off. Letting out a loud, ‘FUCK!’ His body tensed up as he began to unload thick ropes of cum all over her face. ‘God—mmph!’ He whimpered out as his body trembled from the after shock of the intense orgasm. Tears brimmed at his eyes as he watched her long tongue wipe her face clean of his nut before swallowing all of it whole.

Amazing.

With her claws covered in his semen, she sucked and licked them clean too. He fell to his hands… defeated. There was no way Kal would be okay after this.

Standing to her feet, her symbiote began to close up and fill in the open parts of her, fully becoming whole again.

‘You did well.. son of Krypton.’

He looked up at her with wanderous, adoring eyes. ‘How do you know so much about me?’

‘A girl never tells…’ Then, she heard the sound of shouting and shuffling. ‘I must go.’ She turned around, walking away.

‘Wait!’ Kal exclaimed, reaching out towards her.

She turned halfway, ‘Yes?’

‘What is your name? Will I see you again?’

She walked back towards him and squat down before him. The symbiote began to peel away at her once more, revealing her face. And what Kal caused his heart to stop in his chest.

A woman, beautiful dark curly hair with eyes as brown as honey and thick dark lashes. With a smile that had enchanted him on many occasions. His coworker, Aya.

‘Well you see me all the time, silly.’ She shot him a wink and gave his cheek a pinch. Her voice sounded a little more familiar, but still layered with its voice.

Aya Lionheart. They worked closely together on a couple of projects at the Daily Planet.

Kal couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d always found her to be such an attractive and beautiful person. But he never thought he’d get to sleep with her…not this way— not ever…

And to find out that she was as different as he was. ‘Aya?’

‘In the flesh.’ She stood back up and looked over her shoulder as the men began to gain chase. ‘I’ve got to go… behave… Mr. Kent.’ And she leapt off of the ground and into the trees where she’d disappeared into the forest void.

He felt like his breath was snatched out of his lungs for a moment before he slowly stood to his feet. It was then when he’d realized that his suit was basically torn to shreds. Between her claws and the symbiote ripping at it, he was gonna have to call his mother. But not tonight. He was exhausted. She took it all from him.

‘Hey! Over there!’ Someone shouted.

Kal snapped his head up at the group of people who held weapons up at him. And instead of being diplomatic and trying to investigate, he fled the scene, flying back into the city.

.

Just a Few Tags: @itsrubberbisquit @critfailroll @headcannonxgalore @ellethespaceunicorn @deandoesthingstome @milknhonies @mayloma @kurokrisps @elfqueen006 @gummydummy19 @ylva-syverson @peternoonewantsthat

[maleburps]

Just a couple of boys blowing burps in each others face …wish I knew what their relationship is ;)

[pedge-page]

Joel Miller x f!Reader - piss kink 2

can be read along with piss kink 1 or read alone

Fuck it: here's another one for you depraved souls. (mine included 😖)

Summary: you get carried away with your new kink thanks to Joel, and he's got no problem stopping you, no matter how embarrassing it is for him.

Warnings: Piss Kink, Joel pisses his pants, water tummy bulge, water sports, assisted m masturbation, forced water drinking (?), praise, slight submissive Joel, dry (lol) humping.

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel doesn’t exactly consider himself “submissive.” He's usually the one making choices or ordering you around, and that includes any sexual content the two of you engage in. But when you started taking charge of your newfound kink, one that surprises him every day since the whim of trying it out on you, he wasn’t complaining either. 

He was currently being eyed like a hawk by you as he makes a big show of gulping the gallon of water you’d “assigned” to him today. His throat flexed with each chug of water, downing the whole thing over his head and side eying you.

He took a deep breath when the container was empty, suppressing a burp. You clasped your hands together, suddenly happy with his new hydration routine.

It had nothing to do with being hydrated for his health.

His knees crack as he sits his ass down on the kitchen floor. You waste no time crawling over to him, straddling one of his masculine thighs. You bring another carton of water for him, and he almost wants to say no, the bulge in his stomach pleading for air. But your eyes are soooooooo full of want that he can’t help but take it and tilt the lid over his lips, swallowing more as it spills down his chin.

“That’s a good boy,” you whisper, rubbing his water-logged belly. His extra tight jeans that you'd made him wear today were bursting at the seems with how much liquid was filling his stomach, ready to puke a tsunami. But your sweet words only made him chug harder, groaning when you pressed harder against his full stomach.

“Fuck, m so’full,” he gasped, tossing the now empty container aside as it skidded along the white floor. He gripped your waist as you continued to rub his mid-section, the two of you staring down at the growth in his pants. It didn’t take much of your touching to get him going.

“Good boy, good boy, love seeing you fill up like this. Can you get nice and hard for me? Want you to look so pretty when you make a mess of yourself,” you coo, gliding your hand over his hardening bulge, hand fisting it the best you could as you pumped his shaft. The length of it was tightly confined against the cloth, shooting upward to curve under his enormous tummy.

His legs began to shake, unable to close the gap between his thighs due to your knee pressing against his crotch. You had locked him out of the bathrooms, and he’d been holding his need to piss all morning. Now with the hefty contents of his stomach baring down on his bladder, and your touch adding to the craze in his pants, he couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his month as he struggled to hold it his release.

Something you were precisely aiming to make him let go of.

You kissed him, palm now grinding in to the soft space below his naval, between his pelvis, and his hips bucked. “Oh god—fuck—oh fuck yeah, baby its coming, I’m—I’m gonna—“

He doesn’t finish his thought when the flood gates open, a warm burst of piss shoots from the slit of his cock, pulsing copious amounts of hot yellow liquid. The first few strong spurts shot straight up, passing through the thread of denim and staining his lower shirt. His pants quickly darkened as it filtered down through his clothes, cock contracting with each jet. “ohh fuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkkk.” HIs Head slammed back against the cabinet as he relieved himself. He felt like he was on cloud nine. 

“Yesyes! That’s it, that it. So hot, Joel, oh my god! Keep going!” You praised, pressing harder on his lower stomach. He couldn't stop himself if he tried, the release finally feeling so freeing, so good and very much not unlike an orgasm. You nudged his cock with your knee, turning it so the flood of his hot urine shot further down between his thighs, his jeans getting soaked darker He was sitting in a growing puddle of his own piss, something he had never thought would happen again since the last time he wet his pants—in kindergarten. Yet here he was, doing it intentionally for his nutty, kinky, filthy as fuck girl.  

After what felt like forever, his dick would limply trickle little drops when he was finished, but your hands were quick to work him over again, smearing his wetness all over his thighs, hips, lower tummy. You're jiggling his bulge like a remote that wasn’t working properly. Hissing at you in sensitivity, his teeth gritted against one another as he felt his cock twitch again before shooting yet another stream of golden showers. Your firm little pats against his crotch made his piss splash through his clothes, earning a whimper from deep in his throat, brows burrowed in a mix of bliss and concentration.

He was very conflicted, not sure if it was your hands and sexy voice keeping him hard, or the act of pissing himself, ruining his clothes and making an obscenely inappropriate mess for someone his age on the floor.

Joel planted his hands firmly on the tile below him, rocking his hips into your wet hand, moaning at his constant release. Your sweatpants from the knees down were drenched in his puddle, only making you grind on his piss heavy, jean-clad thigh more. 

By the time he was done, he’d urinated almost every drop of water you had forced down his throat the past two days. Your hands soothingly rubbed his softer stomach, licking and biting his cheek and neck with soft words of love. His pants were absolutely drenched from the top down to his calves, like he’d just walked a mile in a lake, the bit of warmth still lingering from his defilement. 

As his breathing slowed, he nuzzled his scruffy cheek into yours.

You kissed his forehead. "Guess what?" You said softly.

"Hmm?"

"It's your week to mop the floors."

- - - -

Next

[suigetsusunny]

Temporary whispers of the heart ⊹₊⟡⋆ | Sosuke Aizen X Reader

Chapter 5 | Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“What are you doing…” Aizen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you downed another small ceramic glass of saké .

“You brought me here to drink, so I'll drink. I’ve wanted to try and get voraciously drunk though I never have, and I might as well after whatever today was...“ You chuckled, smiling as the glass pressed against your lips once more. The booze began to slam against you like a truck, your head dizzying and rocking slightly back. 

“You did your best and that is admirable of you… ” Aizen huffed as he sipped on his own glass, circling the rim with his fingers.

“It was pitiful. How could I have been caught at such a weak moment? How was I supposed to kill that hollow, knowing that I watched it morph from a fellow Shinigami right before my eyes?”

“There are some things that extend beyond your usual duties, I guess.”

You felt a sharpness in your chest, the image of the dire soul reaper that you had once been acquainted with bubbling into a rabid and fierce hollow forever replaying in your mind. That sharpness began to cause throat contractions, as you suddenly felt the urgent need to empty your insides. You stumbled as you immediately rose off the tatami floor, rushing to Aizen’s bathroom and relieving yourself.

Soft hands caressed your tresses and massaged your head as it all came spilling out, alongside your sobs. Yet you hid that from him, another form of weakness you were not willing to show. After all, this was what you had signed up for.

“Do not punish yourself for feeling that way. Embrace your humanity.”

You sighed after you puked, nodding off at the feeling of Aizen’s hands running gently through your hair and the sight of him kneeled next to you so tenderly. 

“I know I have a duty to uphold… How can I embrace my humanity when all I get for it is shame. Shame on my family… Shame on my sister… Oh, what am I saying.” 

Aizen exhaled at your comment, taking a damp towel and softly patting your face with it. The feeling of his tender and warm hands cupping your face sent you into a frenzy of emotions, his gentle hazel eyes embracing your own causing your head to dizzy.

“You are a strange one. Yet I see no wrong in that.”

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You played with the rim of your champagne glass, chuckling now and then at the drinking games that Ikkaku and Hisagi played, their eyes fiercely battling one another and bright shades of red accompanying their cheeks as they refused to let mere shots of vodka break their masculinity. Shunsui took a seat opposite you, aside Rangiku and Soi Fon, the man oddly late.

“And how are we all on this fine evening?”

The two drunkards halted their movements, nodding their heads forth in an abysmal bow and mumbling out a polite greeting. You laughed at Ikkaku's belch that echoed through the room, the whole table erupting into a cacophony of laughter as Hisagi followed suit and let out a considerably gnarly one alongside him. “...Good, and you sir?” 

Shunsui snorted as he nodded, giving a brief and hesitant mumble. “Eh, alright. Assigned myself to give a word of thanks today to all, getting jitters but I'll be fine.”

“Still feels so strange saying general commander instead of captain now.” You chuckled, leaning back in your seat as you sipped your glass.

“So… Why did you invite that thing?” 

Soi Fon queried abruptly, burping from her mass intake of saké as she leaned atop her palm, her elbow resting on the white tablecloth. You snickered in response, though leaning in forward more to listen…

“Where else can he stay, a place guarded with all the ranked officials in the soul society is a perfect place rather than dumping him alone to terrorise random people, no?” 

You both sighed in unison, unable to disagree. As you swirled around the last drop of champagne in your glass, you felt a sense of dejection, you needed something to rid yourself of the gruelling feeling sitting in your stomach. Patting Shunsui’s shoulder, you stood up and waved to a very intoxicated Rangiku laughing at Toshiro as you began to depart towards the bar. “I’m getting a refill.” 

The drunkards gave you flimsy goodbyes before you approached the bar, eyeing the menu hung on the wall. You took a seat alone, the other members of the society fairly intoxicated and… even occupying the dance floor tonight. It was an amusing sight, watching Hiyori grab Hirako's wrist and making him dance with her. You chuckled to yourself, before looking to the bartender to place an order. A martini, you thought..?

A couple novice Shinigami’s caught your peripheral abruptly, the smattering of women displaying minimal fear as they interacted jovially with the special threat across from you. Your jaw hung slightly low as you perceived them blush and laugh, an eyebrow raised at their naivety. Your eyes then drifted towards the bottle of vodka placed atop the shelves towards the back of the bar, feeling a certain craving in your throat begging to be satiated. 

The cool liquid seared through your throat, the sting on your tongue only increasing as you shoved one after the other down. You huffed, rubbing your eyes in defeat at your immature drinking urges. What naïve girls… Do they not know who he is? They’re talking to the epitome of terror, disgraceful, ignorant, ugly-

“Is that… Six shots? What the…”

You felt ants crawl under your skin as you heard Hirako behind you, his grotesque voice alongside his filthy blazer making the muscles in your throat begin to gag. “Can I ever catch a break from you? I think I’m going to throw up all over your radioactive blazer if you don’t remove yourself from my sight.”

Shinji rose his hands up in surrender, chuckling at you, only serving to exacerbate your mood. “You’re the one who called me in desperation today, hey.”

“Though even if I puked on you nobody would even notice it, how devastating…”

��Maybe you’ve got to lay off the drinks, woman .” 

You shot an infuriated glare at him, scoffing at his discourtesy.

“ Woman? What did you say?” 

“Okay, calm down, I didn’t mean-“

Abruptly, you felt a bubbling within your stomach and you began to gag. You forced your rough throat muscle contractions to halt as you gripped your mouth, stumbling while you rushed to the bathroom, a stunned Shinji left alone at the bar table.

You slammed the door open, shutting it and unbothered to lock it as you kneeled over the toilet to let your insides pour out of your mouth. Your head and throat throbbed as you coughed up liquid and chunks of grotesque colours, you knew your alcohol management was horrific yet… You weren’t expecting it to be this bad.

You wiped your mouth, your eyes teary as you sniffled and coughed before the door suddenly creaked open. Amazing timing as it seemed, as Sosuke’s complacent gaze latched onto yours. One that had pierced your soul so vigorously that you ended up being snatched back to the past, to a past you had long forgotten. Or at least desperately tried to.

Aizen gently shut the door back after seeing you, making you feel like slamming your head against the ceramic toilet bowl. Such an indecorous, disgusting, hideous scene you were in… Leaned over the toilet, coughing and sputtering as your face went crimson and your eyes tainted with tears. 

Just as your throat muscles contracted and forced you to crouch over and release your insides once more, the door quietly creaked open again. You could hardly care who was there anymore, you had already felt humiliated enough having to be seen in this condition by that man.

A gentle yet sharp cologne rose throughout your nostrils as you emptied the remaining contents of your stomach, a hand gently bringing back the hair hanging above your face and holding it behind you.

“Your alcohol management is still so direly weak…”

Aizen’s familiar sultry voice unwelcomed you, his mocking voice causing a tear to embarrassingly fall from your eye. You sputtered once more before you wiped your face, reluctantly looking him in the eye with your own watery ones.

“I don’t want your words of pity.” You swiftly stood up, stumbling slightly as you shut the toilet lid and flushed it. Sosuke's grip latched onto your wrist as you stumbled, steadying you.

“I’m not pitying you. I’m just surprised you haven't grown any stronger.” 

“I don’t require your opinion. Let me return back.” 

“To where? Hirako? I presume you’d puke again at the sight of that thing.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, snorting at the fact that he was probably right. A satisfied grin plastered itself on Sosuke’s face as he watched you let out a breathless laugh, a forgotten melody that had not touched his ears in far too long.

“That’s true…”

You look towards him, suddenly aware of his polished appearance as opposed to your.. unruly mess.

“I’ll be right, just let me fix myself up, I seem like a disheveled creature…” You chuckled, running the tap under your palms and rinsing your mouth.

“If a disheveled creature causes people to turn their heads and do a double take at them, then I too wish to be one.” He huffed, shaking his head as he smirked bitterly. You scoffed at his sarcasm, wishing you could wipe the blush not only from being drunk off of your cheeks. 

“Serenade me with your humour some more, I relish in it. It’s so funny. Ha ha.” Sosuke's smirk only grew wider as he chuckled at your comment. “Sure. You look elegant like that, regardless of your convoluted hair.”

You felt your eyes widen and your throat close, surprised by the sudden compliment before you exhaled in exasperation. “Aren’t you an interesting one… Using the same manipulative tactics decades later.”

A slightly drunken Aizen grinned at you, chuckling softly at your annoyed reaction. You rolled your eyes at him, setting your hair and softening your lips with gloss in the mirror before heading to strut out of the bathroom, however a voice stopped you just as you latched your fingers around the handle of the door.

“Maybe this time I just want to know why you thought seven shots of vodka would please your system.” 

You paused, groaning at his query as you looked back at him. “Are we even acquainted enough for you to be speaking to me, Mr. Aizen?”

“No. Yet I can acknowledge that we once were and drive off that fact.”

“That doesn’t count.” “The look in your eyes tells me otherwise.”

Two drunkards stared eye to eye, the hate ignited in their irises morphing passionately with one another. 

“… I need some fresh air.”

You huffed after letting your drunk mouth run wild, snatching the door open and heading to strut up the stairs. You glanced at your table gleefully chatting with one another, smiling at the melancholic sight. All you required was some fresh air, you thought. You couldn’t stand being in the enigmas manipulative presence any longer.

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As you gazed out into the evening sky, you felt a rush of irritation and solemnity overwhelm you unpleasantly. You muttered under your breath, snatching a cigarette from your purse and lighting it on a whim. 

Puffing out into the horizon, you hoped to get whatever feeling was pooling in your stomach to rid itself as you distracted your thoughts.

“What’re you doing up here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” A poisonous voice cursed your ears, one you had desperately been trying to avoid, successfully up until now. 

“Nothing, just need a breath of fresh air.” You scrambled to hide the cigarette, yet Yoruichi’s hand had already clasped it in hers.

“Seriously? Smoking? I thought you quit.”

“I did, I just…”

You huffed seeing her familiar appearance, envious of how her gorgeous dark red dress hugged her curves so well. 

“You know what? What do you know about me? You don’t know if I quit or not. What do you care?” You snapped, unable to keep your mouth from running any longer. You felt in your stomach you were going to regret this, yet your mind didn’t care.

“I do care. Not just as a sister, but as a friend.”

Yoruichi tucked a plum lock behind her ear, reaching out to squeeze your hand. Yet you flinched in response, swatting it away. “We are neither of those.” “I understand your frustration, but that was many decades ago and we’re still family-” “I am not your sister! I forgave that role the moment you left me in the dust, Yoruichi.”

“I know… But through everything, I realised we are still family and I care for you.”

You felt rage boil, raising your voice and pointing a finger at her as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“You care for me? Don’t humour me. I haven’t seen Yuuchika in decades because of you!

“I-”

“I never even got to see him grow up! Did you ever think about how that would’ve felt?”

“Please, Y/N…” “Maybe you used to be my sister.”

You looked at her with an icy glare, devoid of emotion.

“Now you’re just some bitch who threw me out to suck up to her parents.” 

Yoruichi sighed in defeat as you stormed off, turning to go downstairs. However, you were quickly stopped by a pale blonde walking up the stairs and reaching the top, a confused look tainting his face as he saw your teary eyes.

“You can’t just call your sister that.” Urahara’s eyebrows furrowed in agitation, towering over you as you stepped back.

“This doesn’t involve you.” You grunted, glaring at him.

“It does when you’re not listening to my partner trying to fix things with you-” “After what, decades upon decades? Years of wondering what I did to deserve any of that? Not even an apology?”

“You can’t avoid her forever and just cling onto the past.” Kisuke's viridescent eyes pierced your own, his unusually stern glare cutting through you as he crossed his arms. “I was kicked out of my own home and my own sister who I loved-”

Yoruichi cut through once more, fretting at the fact you and him were beginning to get heated too. “Just let me explain to her… You’re clearly drunk.” Her golden eyes glared at a flushed Urahara, signaling for him to back down through her hunter stare. The naïve man disobeyed her anyway, the alcohol and pent up frustration clearly getting to his head.

“You don't understand, Y/N. You’re being immature.” 

“Shut up! You aren’t my father.” You snapped back at him, appalled that he was trying to get involved in what was between you and Yoruichi. “Well clearly you didn’t have one!”

…

You paused as Urahara snapped, his hand immediately rushing to cover his mouth as his eyes widened and regret filled his body. You looked at him with an emotionless stare, your face placid, sighing indifferently as you walked past him.

“I’m so sorr-” 

You ignored his voice calling out to you alongside Yoruichi’s, drowning them out as you stepped slowly and solemnly down the stairs. And if everything couldn’t get any worse, it seemed another visitor decided to observe the commotion.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Sosuke, his gaze complacent yet a slight interest piqued in them. You fervently hated the fact that your body was conditioned to consider him a sight for sore eyes, feeling somehow comforted by his hazel eyes meeting yours. The enigma decided to just give a nod of acknowledgement and walk right past you, causing you to exhale in relief as you continued your descent down the stairs. 

You take a seat back next to Rangiku, sighing as you rested your head on her shoulder. Matsumoto glanced towards you, noticing your tear stained cheeks and immediately cupping your face in her hands. “Oh bubba, are you okay?!”

You felt like melting into a puddle, unable to process any of the many feelings coursing through your head right now. She squeezed your hand, caressing it whilst she asked what was wrong. Just as you opened your mouth to dismiss her worries, the music halted to let Shunsui stand up and give his speech. You mustered a smile at Rangiku before turning to watch the raven haired man tapping on the mic, clearing his throat before he spoke.

“Good evening all, I hope you’ve all had a pleasant night and enjoyed yourselves thoroughly. Though please, lay off the drinks… It smells putrid in here.” Shunsui sighed, chuckling under his breath whilst everyone else followed suit. 

“I just wanted to give my thanks to all of you and your unwavered efforts, you know I’m not the kind of man to stand up here and give praise but… You all deserve it. You’ve all worked so hard, the soul society would crumble without each of your efforts. And for that, I say thank you.”

Boisterous clapping ensued his speech, you even chuckled a bit at the sight of him acting so sincerely… It was a rare sight.

“And thank you to Urahara Kisuke, a man I once vehemently hated standing beside me today, for hosting all of this.” He chortled as he signalled for the host of the night to greet him on the empty space on the floor. 

Kisuke walked on stage, and your eyes widened in surprise. The man was clearly dishevelled yet still smiling as he graciously shook both of Shunsui’s hands. His hair seemed scruffed and you swore a light bruise could be seen on the side of his face. You sighed and looked to your feet as he straightened himself up before speaking into the mic. 

Well clearly you didn’t have one!

“I would like to give my thanks as well, although I’m not as good with my words as you are, Commander…”

“We know!”

Hiyori yelled from the crowd, causing everyone to burst into laughter. You yourself snicker, grinning at her comment. It felt nourishing, as if you were living your revenge through the girl. 

Despite your dire attempts of masking your emotion, Matsumoto seemed to look straight through you.

“Come on, let's go outside.”

Her pale palm tenderly held your wrist as everyone began to chat once more, and you solemnly followed. You talked with her outside whilst you both sat on a curb adjacent to the road, explaining everything that had just happened whilst you lied on her shoulder.

“Geez… What a rough night. I’m sorry.” Rangiku frowned, sighing as she squeezed your hand. You shook your head, adamantly dismissing her apology.  “Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

You suddenly perceive Hisagi and Aizen in the corner of your eye, Shuuhei’s grip on his wrist seeming quite harsh and ragged. You lifted a hand to wave to the both of them, mustering out a polite smile.  “Leaving so soon?” Hisagi frowned at your query, looking to the side whilst he mumbled an answer.

“I guess.”

Sosuke just gave a placid smirk, lifting his free arm to acknowledge your dismissal. You give a solemn goodbye to both, noticing the new scratch on Aizen’s neck, perplexed however too caught up in your thoughts to think too fervently about it.

The amount of time your eyes locked for felt far too long, yet somehow far too short at the same time, as you were unable to take your eyes off of him and the new wound present on his neck.

 ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“I see your temper management is as substandard as ever.” The chestnut haired man chuckled, sliding his hands into his pant pockets as he sauntered up the stairs and paused beside a culpable Urahara.

A fire ignited in the solemn man's soul suddenly once more, Kisuke turning sharply to face him.

“I could banish you from every world right now if it were my will, I would choose my words carefully.” “Had you learned to not run your mouth like that and instead used your wit to do something beneficial for this world I would have perhaps been bothered to choose my words carefully.” Sosuke chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in amusement as he brought forth a cigarette from his pocket and began to walk off.

“Are you involved in this?” Kisuke turned to look at him, causing him to pause as Urahara approached him menacingly. 

“The real question is, are you?” Sosuke turned his head to the side to look at Kisuke, giving a placid yet cunning stare in levity through the single strand spilled unto his sharp features.

Abruptly, the blonde stormed up to Sosuke, snatching his collar and turning it towards him.

“You think you’re so much better than everyone? I’ll remind you to stay in your place.” Urahara’s nails aggressively scratched Aizen’s throat as he pulled him forward, looking him in the eye. 

“I think you’re the one who needs a reminder to stay in their place, Kisuke.” Aizen grinned, yet his one eyed glare was murderous as he retaliated by grabbing his face and squeezing it tight, ensuring his leer was locked onto Urahara intimidatingly. 

“What the hell guys, come on.” Yoruichi sighed, rubbing her face as she shoved the two apart. She snatched Sosuke’s wrists and latched them behind his back, enhancing his Reiatsu cuffs and weakening him.

“What do you want from my sister?”

Aizen paused, turning to the side to look at Yoruichi through the bronze lock that hooked onto his face once more. “Nothing. I’m just an amused observer. And I don’t think the title of ‘her sister’ pertains to you.”

Her grip tightened further in vexation, appalled at his snarky comment. “Don’t test me. You’re on thin ice.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

a/n

guys pleasee give me criticisms for this chapter ! idk how i feel about it. let me know ur thoughts !!

happy reading <3

sumi

[citadelsanchez]

Greetings, our dearest and best writer in the entire history of ever, could I interest you in a little scenario where Rick takes y/n and Morty on a little adventure and leaves y/n alone for a moment to meet up with a "contact" only to come back to y/n being surrounded by people and HEAVILY flirted with? I'd just love to imagine the look on Rick's face when y/n spots him with this helpless puppy look as they try to fend off suitors,,,

Hi. Been a minute since I've posted. Holidays and all that, plus I'm in the process of moving states so I apologize! I promise that I will still be slowly working on these. <3 anyways,, hope you enjoy.

((Gender neutral reader))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Um.. I dunno, Jerry," you muttered uncomfortably. You were currently sat between Morty and Jerry on the Smiths' couch, and got caught in the middle of the two boys having a debate over Interdimensional Cable. Jerry insisted that he was best friends with Keanu Reeves and Dwayne Johnson in his alternate reality. Morty claimed that even in a different reality he'd never be cool enough for that to be true.

"Well it's nice to be reminded just how much of a loser my own son thinks I am. Y/N, what's your opinion on this?" Jerry asked.

You awkwardly shrugged as you checked your phone and hoped they would just stop talking altogether.

"Hey dipshits, is there some valid reason that you didn't come to the garAAGe when I called your names?"

You turned your head to see none other than Rick entering the living room to stand over you and Morty with his arms crossed.

"W-we never heard you call us," Morty spoke.

Rick scoffed. "Well you just heard me. Get to moving" he said, keeping stern eye contact with you before stalking back towards the garage.

You and Morty glance at each other before hesitantly getting up to obey his command, you're both used to his formidable attitude and being too overcome with curiosity to argue.

When you make it to the garage, Rick is already in his ship ready to depart.

"Get in, come the fuck on" he calls out harshly.

Morty stumbles in and you take your place in the back, wedging your legs between the middle of the floor between their seats.

"So what are we doing, specifically?" You ask, watching as Rick expressionlessly drives the ship. Adventures didn't phase you at all anymore; it had been about a full year now since you've started going on them with your esteemed older mentor and his grandson. The scenery never really made a difference anymore but the objective behind the adventures did.

"Just- it's just a compound I need for a project, that's all."

"That wasn't what I'd call specific" you frown, staring at his side profile.

"It's perfectly specific in being all the information that I care to give out," Rick retorts, throwing you an annoyed look.

"Geeez Rick," Morty adds.

You roll your eyes and decide not to further press the issue. You're no stranger to Rick's many moods and abusive jabs, but usually you were able to pinpoint reasons for them, even if small. Sometimes, though, it seemed deeper than what you could read into and you knew to just leave it be. It wasn't like he would relay his true emotions to anyone.

The ship whirred to a halt as you looked outside of the windows to see a lively city filled with people entering and exiting eccentric shops. Most of the inhabitants seemed to have a masculine appearance, some taking on hybrid human and alien features. Some were strange creatures altogether, and some looked to be completely human.

The three of you climb out of the ship as Rick starts talking. "Alright, so I've got to tend to my business. You two stay here and don't die."

He looks between you and Morty, a sense of guilt almost marking his face before the typical scowl replaces it. "I-If you can't manage that, use this to let me know." Rick shoves a device with a giant blue button in your hands now.

"Good luuUUCk" He burps before walking off into the crowd of humanoids and disappearing from sight.

"Wow, he's really on it today, huh Y/N?" Morty says, puzzled.

"Something's off, I can tell. I need to find out what it is," You respond. "Rick has obviously left us in the dark before but this just doesn't feel right."

Just as you're about to take stride to follow Rick, several warlock resemblant men surround you, blocking your path. Their curious inquiries spill out all at once.

"Look at this specimen, Norpel. Definitely not from around here."

"What's your name, gorgeous?"

"I was told not to touch the aliens that visit but I almost can't resist."

You take a step back and sigh in frustration. Damn you, Rick.

"And you're dead set on using this formula and enduring it's possible side effects, Rick?"

Rick frowned, irked by the fact that his colleague wouldn't just provide him with what he asked for without a 20 questions game.

"Yes, Shabablurb, I'm completely positive."

The mysterious man turned to face the older scientist. "I just have to make sure. I'll go get it then."

Rick tapped his foot as he waited and his mind wanders back to you once again. Your gentle eyes of compassion, your sometimes rare but always bright smile, your soft hair. The inside jokes you two came to have, the gentle touches you give him when he's not being an asshole, the way his entire family cherishes your presence. How he feels about you- he knows the feeling and knows it well. Which is why he needs to get rid of it.

Shabablurb re-enters the room with a vial. "Okay, one and done. I'm not here to judge any of your decisions but just remember Rick, that once you take this, you won't be able to remember an-"

"I got it. Thanks. I'm out."

Rick snatched the compound from the man's hand and began making his way back to Morty and Y/N.

He was starting to wonder if you two had went to a bar or club somewhere when he heard your voice, wavering and meek. Unusually out of character for you.

"Hey stop, don't, back up- don't touch me please."

Rick narrowed his eyes at the crowd he was walking through, pushing past everyone to reach the sound of your voice.

Many feet away, Morty was nowhere in sight but he caught a glimpse of your face, flush with panic and anxiety, as the strange men continued to prod you and several attempting to grab a part of you- your clothes or body.

Your eyes meet Rick's and he can clearly see the plea for help in them as one creature grabs hold of your shirt and begins yanking it.

Rick feels his anger start to surge. He removes his laser gun from his coat and fires it at the crowd, freezing some suitors in place and burning holes in others. Once you're no longer engulfed in bodies, he finds the job satisfactory.

"R-Rick, thank you," you murmur while he walks over, embarrassed by the scene that just played out. You gently brush your fingers over his hand after he puts his gun away and he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

"Rick?"

"Uh yeah, sorry. Glad I could save the day. They w-would've had a feast with you."

Your cheeks flush although you're not sure in what context Rick was even referring to.

In honesty, neither was he. All that was consuming his mind were second guesses. Guilt and pain that clutched his chest with a deathly grip. And a single question ringing in his head.

How could he make himself forget about you?

[bigfuckingdudes]

Jet's Been Cursed!

Have you met Jet? He's the ugly guy in the corner, with the mop. You probably used to know him.

Jet was handsome. It was his whole thing and always had been, that he was gorgeous, conventionally speaking. He had golden hair and blue eyes, perfect skin, toned muscles and a bizarrely glorious dusting of facial stubble, just enough to look rugged and masculine. And so he was a model and an actor and a spokesperson and all that hot, rich guy shit he's now totally unable to do.

If you looked like he used to, wouldn't you be a model too? Unfortunately, Jet was also a bit of a rude fucker, always yapping away gossiping even in front of the targets of his disdain, always treating his support staff like actual servants, and always showing up late to set. His looks carried him throughout life as if upon an enchanted breeze and he loved both said looks and said life.

One Friday, his coffee order was late. The air conditioning wasn't broken, but it wasn't exactly working either. And the photographer didn't smile at Jet when he walked onto set! Jet was FURIOUS. He stormed back to his dressing room and fumed like a little kid, whining to nobody, texting on his phone to anyone who might reply about how awful his life was.

A PA came to grab him for the last shot of the day, and Jet SNARLED like a villain from a cheap movie at her, making her cry immediately. He sat in his steaming rage for another hour or so and eventually went back to set, having made everyone stay late without pay. Everyone, unsurprisingly, had lost interest in his beauty and just hated the guy.

When Jet eventually went home, he of course didn't notice the hex bag affixed to the bottom of his car. No one would. He was so exhausted from being a brat that he crashed into bed immediately, into a dark and dreamless sleep.

The next morning, he woke up, belched like a trooper and then paused. He didn't burp. He didn't even drink sparkling water, for god's sake. So he was surprised when he let out a rancid fart too. Clearly yesterday's shitty coffee disagreed with him? Maybe they'd used oat milk instead of his requested fresh macadamia. He stumbled out of his silken bed and went over to the mirror, itching his face slightly. He felt oddly heavy, really drunk on sleep or hungover with it.

Ew!

There was a stubborn...beard appearing all over his face and his neck! What the fuck?! It was hideous and he felt like throwing up just seeing the unkempt mess spreading across his face, obscuring his features. Jesus! And he... He... His tan had faded into pale, spotty looking skin. He looked at the blotchy pockmarks of his face and felt deep fear. He looked both ten years older and ten years younger all at once. He let out another fart, this one a faint squeak of panic. He looked like some fucking nerdy creep, not like the hunk he'd been the night before, the hunk he'd been for his entire life.

And, dear god, he was hungry. He ran downstairs, oddly aware that his gait wasn't quite right, and, feeling out of breath, he ate an entire packet of "health" cereal. It tasted like dirt. It wasn't enough. He finished everything in his cupboards and literally listened to his stomach gurgle like an animal. It still wasn't enough. He needed to get out. He pulled on a coat over his t-shirt and underwear and stormed out of his apartment and across the street, where a neon sign announced "DINER". He'd never really noticed the place before.

He stumbled into the diner, breathing heavily, feeling yet more hair burst from his chest, his face, even his toes. It was like a forest was emerging from his body, and with the hair came sweat and a thick scent of body stench. He was like a hog under the hot sun. People waiting, queuing for a table, dodged out of his way, given him a clear path to a booth which he slammed down into, feeling himself itch and moan uncontrollably. He howled like a wolf upon seeing nearby food, scratching his now incredibly hairy genitals.

"BURGERS!" He roared, like an animal, literally feeling drool pool at the edges of his mouth and drip down into the table in front of him, forcing the approaching waiter to back up and give him a look halfway between pity and fear. "MILKSHAKE," he screamed. Shortly, a plate of burgers appeared in front of him accompanied by the world's largest milkshake which was really more of an ice cream sundae on steroids. And boy, did Jet go to town on all of it, making a real mess, shoving it down him, burping and crying slightly as he did so, dribbling meat juice and ice cream down his shirt. His shirt...which was...bubbling and pushing outwards, as his belly and chest started to swell to mammoth proportions, spurred on by some foul magic and his new appetite's demands. By the time he finished his meal -- and the other meals he then ordered -- he was vast.

He had almost womanly breasts bursting from the sides of his shirt, only recognisably male due to their hideous hair. He had love handles which had their own gravitational pull. He had a hugely fat gut itching to expand even more. He could feel padding of flesh on his ass and thighs and hips. He felt vast and he needed to escape, run back home to his old life, to bed, to his regular dreaming sleep immediately.

But he was so big he was sorta trapped in the booth! It took a real struggle for him to break free and by that point the entire diner was gazing at him. He stumbled back to his apartment, unsteady on his fattened feet. But when he got there, things seemed... different.

His flashy gadgets were gone. The apartment was grubby. His expensive artworks had been somehow replaced by flaking movie posters. And the photos from his modeling career were just pictures of other hot men, clearly ripped out of magazines. And his phone suddenly was a worse model -- with a cracked screen! What was happening to him?

When he stumbled to work, wearing the largest clothes he could find, belly hanging fleshily and whale-like from a t shirt's bottom, he found he was not the talent as he insisted, but the building's... janitor. He was handed a broom and a mop and a uniform that barely contained him, and told to get to work in the background while a new model strolled in, all sweetness and light, treating everyone well. Jet burped and started to cry.

It was almost like he'd been cursed?

Since the curse hit, Jet's been a lot more polite, but the world doesn't care. It treats him just as he used to treat like: like shit. He's a fat slob and he's treated like one.

Does he deserve it? Jury's out, but he's gotten really good at sucking cock since his transformation, and he's discovered he loves pleasuring guys who are particularly cruel to him -- do you wanna give it a go? Go on, call him a gross fatty and see what happens.

[imeverywoman420]

sugaring is basically a scam from the mans side not the womans side tbh…. Whos really in control. This man has all the power all the money he can show up to their little dates wearing stained clothes looking a hot mess farting and burping and she’d sit and take it if she thought he might throw her some of his pocket change. If she breathes in a way that makes him question his masculinity, if he doesnt like how she looks without makeup, hes going for another naive 20 something that sheraseven and the other Hypergamy women groomed for him.

[octuscle]

I’m so bored of trying to stand out and pursue my own career in art. I’d rather be a cog in the machine at this point. Maybe not explicitly a drone but can I just be any like any other worker? I can’t be bothered to stand out anymore. I’m a twunk in my mid 20s

I'm so tired of trying to stand out and pursue my own art career. Right now, I'd rather be a cog in the machine. Maybe not explicitly a drone, but can't I just be a worker like everyone else? I don't feel like standing out anymore. I'm a twat in my mid-20s

You really can't believe this is your life. That you wanted to make art. That you wanted to talk to collectors, curators and investors at art openings. Licking saliva in the hope that someone would buy a painting from you. Today it's the vernissage of a very distant acquaintance from the art academy. If there were no such events, you would starve. You basically live on champagne and canapés. And apart from black wool pants and black turtlenecks, you don't own a single item of clothing.

You are standing in front of a large painting. Predominantly monochrome pink. With a thin black grid over it. Shit, that's good. It's better than anything you've produced so far. "So, what do you think?" someone asks you. You know the guy. Art critic at the Washington Post. "Nothing I couldn't do with uh paint roller n uh ruler," you reply. You take a big sip of the champagne. Burp!!!!! "Hey, does anyone here have uh beer?" The critic looks at you in horror and a little disgusted. Your curls start to get a little greasy. And then your hair gets shorter. Shorter and shorter. Until there's nothing left but short stubble that feels like sandpaper. Instead, your smooth boyish cheeks are covered with the same hard stubble. And your cheekbones become more angular. Twunk? Not really anymore…

You scratch at your hairy six-pack under your washed-out T-shirt. You shout in the direction of the slimy guy you think is the boss here. "Hey boss, I gotta grab this sick sculpture." The gallery owner rolls his eyes. Where would the normal art logistician be? "Yo boss, me and my squad are totally slaying at this gig. But hey, if you're down, we can totally give it another shot, no biggie.."

Transporting art is a lucrative business. And it's wonderful to snub the narrow-minded busybodies with real masculinity. Okay, you have no idea what "lucrative", "bigoted" and "snubbing" mean. Shit, you love scratching your balls through the pockets of your overalls. And then carrying million-dollar works of art with your greasy hands full of precum. And then going to the pub with the boys. You wouldn't swap places with the idiots in the gallery for any money in the world…