#reclining pigs

[hogwash-deli]

Indoor versus outdoor Pigs

Hard Outdoor Hogs

Spoiled Indoor Pigs

[littlefireball]

ʏꜱ|ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴇ, ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ, ꜰɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ (ᴍ)

ɢᴏᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ ꜱᴀᴠᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ (ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴏᴅ (?) ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ)|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx|ᴄʟɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘ|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴋ*ʟʟɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4ᴋ

Other members: ATEEZ as Fake Gods, Seonghwa

Masterlist

Rumors abound in the city about the miraculous powers of the holy water in the temple, believed to bestow fertility upon barren women. Little do they know, the so-called holy water is actually a disguise for the gods themselves. Concealed within the temple, the deity assumes the form of a male priest, carefully selecting his chosen women. His divine 'touch' brings forth new life for those he deems worthy, while others are left untouched by his favor.

And as usual, he was entrenched in the temple, looking for his favorite "prey".

You were compelled into a marriage with that pig in the urban center due to your family's financial ruin, or should I say that oily old man who was as corpulent as a pig. His conduct exuded disdain towards women, and his utterances lacked any semblance of decency. He demanded you to have children for him, but who would consent to such a disgusting request.

Whenever he attempted to forcefully have sex with you, you resorted to narcotics or simply delivered a blow to render him unconscious. Of course, it was not a long term solution. He brought you to the temple, despite your unwillingness.

"You better get pregnant or I'll just throw you to the brothel," The old man warned, gripping your wrist hard enough to leave a clear red mark. "Get off me! You fucking old man!" "How dare you talk like this to your husband?!" As he was about to slap you, a sudden deep voice stopped him. "Quiet!"

Yeosang walked out from behind the statue with a serious look on his face. "This is a holy land, how can you be allowed to cause trouble?"

"I apologize. My wife is trying to hurt me so I…" "Is it true? Why do I perceive a desire in you to strike her?" Yeosang maintained a stern face as he advanced, radiating an aura of authority that left the elderly man faltering. "No, no, my lord, you have misunderstood. I simply intended to catch her, not harm her."

"Catch her?" Yeosang tilted his head, gazing at the man with impatience and anger. "What a good husband?" Yeosang forcefully released the man's grip on your wrist and pushed his hand away with determination. The oily man's wrists bore the marks of yeosang's strength, as his fingers left visible bruises on the old man's skin. Despite the pig's cries, Yeosang remained resolute and refused to release his hold.

"Ah, say something to help me, explain it! Y/N!!" That fat pig bellowed in desperation, beseeching you to come to his aid. But how could you do this? Your delight in witnessing his suffering is beyond comprehension, as he was left in a state worse than death. "He is trying to hurt me, my lord." "You bitch─!!!" Without allowing the oily man to utter another word, Yeosang flung him to the ground like a piece of refuse.

"Leave. Before I changed my mind." The old man struggled to stand up and ran away without looking back. "You stay here, Y/N."

"Me?Stay here?" Yeosang nodded as he slowly walked back to his throne-like sofa. The sophisticated man reclined against the opulent throne, his demeanor exuding an air of refinement. "Come here," he beckoned, his voice laced with an unprecedented softness. You obediently knelt before him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at the sight of his striking features.

"Tell me, my dear, do you desire to conceive?" Gently cupping your face, his thumb grazed your lips, applying a slight pressure. "I…" You found yourself captivated by his presence, rendered speechless. "Never, right?" He echoed your unspoken thoughts, causing you to flinch. "But what if the child is mine?" "What?"

"Don't worry, that man won't pester you anymore." He grabbed your chin to press his lips on yours. "It'll be good, I promise."

It was the first time your lips met. That fat pig had never shown you the same kindness as Yeosang. To him, you were nothing more than a fertility tool. There was no hint of aggression or intrusion in the kiss, only warmth and tenderness. A pulsating sensation coursed through both of your bodies, and you felt the heat spreading throughout your entire being.

"Are you feeling hot?" Yeosang inquired in between kisses, to which you shyly nodded. "Then you need to cool off." His hand slipped down your back, unzipping and slipping inside. You gasped at the chilly touch of his fingers, causing him to smirk.

He drew you nearer, settling you on his lap, encircling your legs around his waist as he trailed his kisses along your jawline and neck. Tilting your head back to grant him better entry, he nestled himself in the curve of your neck, exploring with his mouth everywhere he could reach. With a swift movement from Yeosang, your top slipped down, and after unfastening your bra and tossing it aside, he gently guided you down onto the plush sofa.

"Have you had sex before?" You shook your head as you trailed off. "I never let my…that old man touched me."

"Do you want me to touch you?" He hovered you, his tone tingled with a hint of desire. "Please…" "Say it again, Y/N." His thumb brushed your bottom lips, then sliding down to hold your chin. "Please, I want you to touch me." Yeosang smiled as his ego grew at your answer. "Do you know my name?" You shook your head. "It's Yeosang. No one knows but only you."

"Because you are special." His words ignited a blush on your cheeks, evoking feelings of tenderness and timidity. You sensed a new emotion blossoming within your heart. Could it be the sensation of falling in love? Oh, the irony of it all! How amusing to think that mere sweet words could stir such emotions. Despite your rational mind attempting to awaken you, the yearning within your being refused to be silenced.

You watched him leave a trail of kisses from your chest to the tummy. "That old man doesn't deserve you." Yeosang sat up straight to tear apart your dress, making you gasp at shock. He cupped your clit and moved up and down, giving a little hard press to make you moan at sudden touch.

"Gosh…" "You're so warm, honey." This was your first time to feel such pleasure. All the heat rushed to your clit and something flowed out, wetting your underwear. Feeling his fingertip went deep into your cunt, you arched your back as he gently caressed it. "It was your first time and I don't want to hurt you. Gotta prepare you well."

Yeosang buried his face between your thighs, sucking your fold slightly. "Yeo…Yeosang!" You arched your back and moaned at pleasure. Even though there was a fabric, you could still feel his tongue every move. The wet muscle shifted from the bottom to the top as he ate you out like a starved man. Gripping his hair lightly, you pulled him closer to your core as you wanted more.

Yeosang pushed your thighs to either side as he got your signal. "Hold it." You obeyed his words and grabbed your calves, feeling a cold touch on your clit followed by a hot, wet sensation as he pulled the hem of your panties aside. His tongue was tapping your fold at a quick pace, making you let out a choppy moan.

But it was not enough. You wanted, no, needed something more exciting.

"Yeosang…" "Be patient, doll. I know what you want but you have to wait." Dropping a kiss on your clit, he sat up straight again and took off all his clothes. You felt worried as you gazed on his big, long cock, not knowing if it fit you. "You can take it, don't worry. Let's adjust it first, okay?"

He guided his member to rub against your clit. Everything was slow and gentle. Each time his hard tip brushed your fold, you couldn't help but pant heavily as the numbness took over you. "How does it feel?" "It…it feels good." Covering your mouth to suppress the moaning, Yeosang rubbed faster and harder that made you wetter.

"Want me to thrust in? Words, honey." Yeosang asked, leaning closer to make a fast friction.

"Yes,yes, please, my lord." You cried. "Oh fuck!!" He plugged in with a smooth motion after finding your entrance, reaching the sensitive spot.

"Ah~yeosang~oh my god~" The alluring moan caused a flush of embarrassment to spread across your cheeks, yet it also further inflamed Yeosang's desire. He folded you up as a mating press, penetrating even deeper. His powerful thrusting resembled an unstoppable force of nature. Every penetration delved as deeply as could be, forcefully meeting your tender flesh. The combination of pain and arousal left you gasping for breath, your exhilaration expressed through high-pitched cries.

You enveloped him in your embrace, drawing him near to feel the warmth of your body against his. With each thrusting, the friction of your bodies created a thrilling sensation, igniting a new level of excitement. His cock nestled so deep in your cunt as if breaking through your limit.

Your nails dug into his back as he battered your sweet spot again and again. The numbness from thrusting made you reel and moan messily. "Gonna fill your pussy with my seed, it must be good." He huffed, trying to catch his breath. "Keep squeezing my cock to make me cum?How thirsty you are." Well, Yeosang totally forgot he was supposed to be elegant, gentle but not rough and dirty. Maybe his possessiveness was stirred up when he saw how that fat pig forced you to bear his child. No, he couldn't accept this.

Yeosang turned you over harshly, making you bounce on the sofa and shout in surprise. Aiming at your hole again, he entered you in one go and fucked you at an inhuman speed. "Fuck!!Fuck!!Fuck!!" He propped himself with both hands on your lower back, hitting your ass with his ball, causing a loud skin slapping filled the temple.

"Oh my god, fuck it." Yeosang's thrusting went faster and faster as if there was no limitation. He needed to cum, to fill your pussy with his hot seed. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let's breed. Carry my child." He drew back his hips until only his tip inside your cunt and bumped into you. As a high-pitched moan left your tongue, you came before the hot liquid creamed your wall.

Yeosang took a moment to catch his breath before thrusting forward twice and then pulling away. "Are you alright?" he asked, turning you around and giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine," you reassured him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss you. Despite feeling conflicted, Yeosang couldn't resist the urge to show you care. Normally, he would simply bid farewell to his prey and erase their memories. Hence, they would never know the truth and he could breed again and again.

This time, however, he discovered a desire to cherish your memories, to hold you close by his side. He believed he was never alone, surrounded by those who sought his attention, yet they were never truly his. You, unlike the rest, were forsaken, seen as a mere instrument, left in solitude. Two souls adrift in loneliness made for the most exquisite partnership.

"Stay with me, Y/N." He whispered against your lips, leaving a kiss on it. "But I'm not divorced yet and the engagement…" "It's fine. Everything is fine." He pecked at you again. "What you need to do is just stay here and let me deal with it."

—---

"Where is my wife?!" As Yeosang expected, that oily man came back to the temple with a team of villagers the following morning. He cast a disdainful glance at the door from the corner of his eyes, but his gaze softened as he tenderly caressed your face. "Sleep well, honey." After tucking you in with the quilt, he made his way to the door.

"Everyone can see clearly that he is the one who kidnapped my wife!He is no clergyman, but a mere charlatan! You see, I was injured by him yesterday while trying to save my beloved wife."

Yeosang rolled his eyes, regretting that he forgot to eliminate the man's memories. But never mind, everything would be solved soon and he could go back to cuddle with you.

"Are you done talking nonsense?" Yeosang cut him off with impatience.

"Give me back my wife."

"Who?"

"I said Y/N! I know you are here! Come out you bastard!!" Yeosang immediately saw red as he heard how this disgusting man called you. Waved his hand, and the unknown force knocked everyone away.

"It seems that you have no idea who I am, human." Yeosang gracefully lowered himself to seize the man's chin, compelling him to meet his gaze. His power surpassed that of mere mortals; indeed, he was mightier than any being on Earth. As bones cracked, the man's mouth filled with blood, yet he was unable to expel it.

"How dare you to be impolite in front of a God?" He exerted his power, causing the man's facial muscles to constrict. "If you dare, kill me and take her back. Can you?" He said provocatively, his eyes shining a red, gold light because of anger. And the others dared not to save the man and just ran away.

"See? They leave you." Yeosang twisted the man's neck, resulting in an unintended fracture. "Oops. Gosh." He waved his hand in revulsion, as though he had come into contact with something unsavory.

"Yeosang?" As your voice rang in his ears, he immediately looked up and rushed to your side. "Did I wake you up? Are you tired? Want to sleep more?" You shook your head and nestled yourself in his embrace. "Just…a little bit horny." Smirked, he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Then let me help you, my wife." Oh yes, he forgot, again, this was the aftereffect of having sex with him. Who called him the God of breeding?

[honeylullaby]

“Miss Baddingham, you are bad news.” PT1

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / You, Lord Baddingham’s daughter, encounter Mr Declan O’Hara on your first day at Corinium… 💋

18+ FANFIC / SMUT. Medium length? Reader character aged at 21.

Alone in your father’s office at Corinium, you take the opportunity to snoop around his personal belongings. As a father, he was much less than devoted, but your mother had somehow managed to persuade him to let you uptake a small office job — faxing documents, organising fathers diary but most importantly, shadowing Declan O’Hara for journalistic experience. “What are you doing?” Tony Baddingham asked, tightly suited and lips pressed together in common anger. “Sorry, Dad. Just… having a look.” You sigh, taking a seat at the other side of his desk. Tony reclined in his seat ahead of you, leather brogues resting in front of your face and arms clasped behind his head. “So… no fuck ups today. Don’t speak to Declan unless you’re spoken to, don’t fax anything that you’re not told to, don’t leave until I’ve told you to.” Your father instructs you, and keeps a close eye on you, rolling your eyes. “Yes, Dad.” You drone, rising from your seat and taking a step towards the door. “I mean it. I’ll be watching.” He ominously informs you once again. Exasperated with his tedious words, you swing open his office door and slam it shut.

“That’s about the right reaction for leaving his office.” Declan chimes as he hurriedly sped past the office, clicking his fingers at you to follow him. How brilliant — a whole day with two chauvinistic pigs instead of one. “You shouldn’t click at me. I would’ve followed you anyway.” You tut, slouching after him to his personal office. Declan didn’t respond, but pushed his office door open for you to sit down. “Right, much to do today. Did ya’ check the notes ‘ya dad gave to ‘ya?” He grunts, lighting a cigarette and taking a seat in front of you. Avoiding eye contact the best you could, you exhaled and lit a cigarette of your own. “I don’t read anything that Dad tells me to. Cunt.” You spit, rolling your eyes. Declan couldn’t help but laugh — there wasn’t a truer sentence said, in his opinion.

“Ya’ not too keen on him then?” He asks, glancing up at you from his mounds of paperwork. “No. He’s a pig, rude, and cheats on my mum all the time with this Cameron girl.” You utter, eyes scanning the windows of the office, willing the universe to allow a glimpse of the woman that ruined your parents marriage. “I think we’re going to get along,” Declan begins, before clearing his throat, “Cameron’s good at what she does, but I don’t see why Tony’s so interested. She’s twenty years younger than him, fa’ fucks sake.” His words feel like a twisting knife in your stomach. It took a lot to come to terms with your fathers infidelity — your mum handled it so well, but seeing her sitting alone in the lounge every night was simply too much for you to bare.

“Are you married?” You question the Irishman through an elongated puff of your cigarette. He visibly takes a moment to carefully consider his response, placing his paperwork back down on the desk and looking up at you. “I was. Not really anymore.” He states. Furrowing your brow, you can’t help but speak with an upturned nose. “Not really? How can you not really be married?” You ask.

“The same way ya’ father is not really married anymore.” Declan snaps, his harsh tone unwavering. Ouch. But, being the self-assured Baddingham that you are, you continue to probe him. “So you’re a cheat?” You snidely remark. “Not me.” He replies, tapping ash from his cigarette and maintaining intense eye contact with you. For once, you were left speechless. If there was one thing you had inherited from your father, it was most definitely your self-important, highly confident personality. Lifting your foot up underneath the desk, you raised it up Declan’s leg, stroking down the length of it gently.

•

“What are ya’ doing?” He quizzes, fighting the urge to smirk at your boldness. “I’ve watched your show. I love the way you pick apart your guests. It’s always been a dream of mine to have you bend me over that chair and fuck me senseless.” You wink, simpering at your own comment. Coughing in a flurry of both sheer shock and exhilaration, Declan’s gaze widened. “Listen, Miss Baddingham, you are bad news.” He mutters softly. In all honestly, there was nothing more than Declan would love to do than your suggestion. But the hypocrisy of being intimate with you after chastising Tony so heavily for sleeping with Cameron was too much for him to swallow.

Scraping your chair across the floor, you clambered onto your knees and crawled under Declan’s desk. Screwing up his face in confusion, Declan kept a close eye on the happenings outside his office. Briskly unzipping his trousers and pulling his erect cock from his boxers, you awaited for his gruff moan as you swirled your tongue around the reddening tip. “Fuck, ya’ such a naughty girl.” He grunts, scrambling for a pen from his drawer in order to feign busyness. Desperate to draw out this pleasurable experience for him, you sucked at the tip for a few moments, smirking through a full mouth as you watched his squirming legs from the corner of your eye.

Placing a gentle hand on your head, Declan stroked his brutish fingers through your hazelnut hair, his spine shivering from intimacy. Taking a deep inhale, you take as much of his 9 inch girth into your mouth as possible, saliva escaping from your lips as your head bobs slowly. Glancing up at him with sparkling eyes, Declan allowed himself a profound moan — the risk of it all heightening his senses. Chronically in need of Declan’s release, you maintain your tempo, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

“Look at me whilst I’m in your throat.” He orders, pushing your chin up with his finger and moaning as he gets to see your wide, pure eyes. Raising your hands up to grab a hold of his thighs, you pushed your limits even deeper, speeding up and keeping him towards the back of your throat. “Fuckin’ hell. If ya’ keep going like that, ya’ gonna make me cum.” He spat out, but his words only spurred you on even further. Eyes watering and nose sniffling, you continued your passionate assault on his cock — lust taking ahold of common sense. Your incessant deepthroating became all too much for Declan, and his thighs seized furiously as he shot his sweet load down the back of your throat, coating the soft palate of your mouth. Swallowing it without a second thought, you scooted yourself out from under the desk as Declan hurried to zip his trousers up. Staring at him longingly as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, you winked at him with fluttering eyelashes. “I can’t believe we just did that. Ya’ fuckin’ minx.” Declan beamed with pride.

The door of Declan’s office was prized open, and it took Declan a few moments to fully grasp the mischievousness of the situation he found himself in this afternoon. Tony Baddingham, eyes ablaze with fury, bellowed as deafeningly as his lungs could manage, “What the fuck is going on?” Truly, it baffled you for a moment how someone would be in the know of your sexual escapade. That was until you turned to your side, and three quarters of the office looked on, twiddling their thumbs and pretending in futile that they hadn’t witnessed you on your knees for Declan O’Hara. It’s very possible that you may both be in a slight bit of trouble.

[mrshigurumasshop]

Falling For Ya! | K. Bakugo ~ the one where you test if he can catch you

─➭ pairing: pro!hero bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

─➭ mentions of: lovey-dovey fluff

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You do this stupid thing all the time. It gets on Katsuki’s nerves so damn much. But you think it’s funny and cute to see your boyfriend’s overdramatic reactions.

You like to trust fall when he’s around.

You do it out of pure entertainment and enjoyment. At first you did it just to see if he’ll catch you last minute. You wanted to put his hero instincts to the test. The poor man was just trying to relax from a long day of patrol only to have his wacko, (his words) girlfriend test him like a guinea pig.

He was sitting on the recliner chair in the living room when you randomly walked beside him with a shit eating grin on your face. Katsuki knew right away you were up to no good and there you went, you literally flung yourself towards the hardwood floor.

“JESUS FUCK, WOMAN!”

Katsuki yelled as he practically shot himself out of the comfort of his seat to catch you. With just one hand wrapped around your waist saved you from falling straight on your back. “Why the fuck would you do that,” he aggressively sighed as he pulled your laughing self on his lap as he sat back on his seat.

“Just wanted to see how fast you could catch me, ‘suki,” you laughed as he poked your sides.

“Of course I’d catch you, dumbass. Just don’t do that shit again.”

And you did it again two days later. And again and again after that. To be honest it never dawned on you to stop because it was just so fun to do it.

You did it anywhere and everywhere. Stores, dates, his parents house, and even in the middle of the sidewalk. You’d stretch your arms straight out and fall. And he was always there to catch you.

“Fuck! Quit doin’ that!”

“Jesus christ!”

“I’m gonna murder you!”

Ah, they were good memories to make with him because not only did you get under his skin which you love to do but it brought some cute sappy moments between you too.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he says as he gracefully catches you in his arms without a sweat. You guys were in the middle of the pier for date night when he saw you do a little twirl for him to show off your outfit, only for you to fall straight to the ground.

“I know,” you giggle as he uses his other hand to pick up your legs in bridle style, “But you always catch me!”

“Yeah, one day I won’t and your gonna turn into a baby because you got hurt,” he grumbles as he pulls you closer to his chest feeling your arms wrap around his neck.

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Ha? What makes you think so?”

“Because you love me,” you say before kissing his cheek then you cup his jaw to make him face you, “And you would be the meanest boyfriend ever, if you did.”

“Ah,” he muses with a smirk as he leans down just barely brushing his lips against yours, “Now I can’t have that happenin’, huh?”

“Nope!” you empathize with a sweet smile he loves so much.

“Well pretty girl, you better keep falling for me,” he whispers before softly but eagerly kisses your soft lips. You both pull away with soft smiles and slightly out of breath. “Just hold back from givin’ me an early heart attack, yeah?”

“Yeah okay,” you nod.

Then you’re annoying ass falls again not even 20 minutes later.

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[spyder-junkie]

Hi could I request Hobie x fem reader where reader tells Hobie she pregnant with his child 🤭 like how would Hobie react and help her through her pregnancy? 😳

Love you bestie 😍😘

HOBIE BROWN x pregnant! reader

Hobie knows hes young, he knows youre young too, but when you tell him, he cant help but be incredibly excited.

“Im pregnant, Hobes.” You said nonchalantly, reclining back on the couch next to him. There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you watched the gears turn in his head, still processing what you told him and void of the previous conversation the two of you were having.

“Youre joking?” He asked, turning to you, the corner of his lips already turning up.

“Im not.” You smile, still relaxed.

“Fucking hell!” He chuckles, sitting up next to you. His hands are under your shirt and all over your stomach in an instant, and you laugh at his expression.

“Youre not going to be able to feel it yet.” You laugh, giggling as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Doesnt matter, I know hes in there.” Hobie says.

“He?”

“He.”

Hobie is very patient with you through the entire pregnancy. And you’re understanding with him when it comes to his Spiderman duties.

He’ll swing past your favorite fast food restaurant on the way home from patrol, or massage your back and feet when you feel fatigued.

He does whatever you ask him to, just overjoyed that you love him enough to carry his child.

When you go into labor he refuses to leave your side. he gets lightheaded while watching the baby come out so he chooses to stand closer to your face.

You two didnt want to know the gender until the baby was born

It doesnt matter what it is anyway, he’ll love the child all the same, but he will be pretty smug if it is in fact a boy.

“I toldya’ didnt I? I got quite a knack for these typa’ things.”

Definitely asks Peter B for father advice, but he does it nonchalantly, he doesnt want to be too uncool.

Petter is happy to teach him little tips and tricks he wish he knew when Mayday was born.

If the baby is a spider, Hobie makes specially fit web slingers for their wrists once they’re able to walk.

And as soon as the baby is talking, he’s teaching them.

(Have you guys seen that tiktok of the guy reading to the baby and he says “the cow goes mooo! the butterfly dont say nofim’ and the pig says ‘you have the right to remain silent’ “ Well that’s exactly the kind of things hobie says to the baby.)

Overall hes just a young father trying his best.

And some nights once hes finished with patrol, he’ll crawl in through the window, taking off his mask with a fond smile was he notices you and the baby fast asleep. He’ll strip, then crawl into bed and hold you two in his arms.

He has a real sense of family.

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 11

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: the aftermath of Jared's... lovely... reappearance in your life.

WC: ~2.4k

Ellie is all too excited as she eats her breakfast, wiggling with glee, as she tells you about how good she was for your girlfriend during church and how she was so surprised to see her father with you at the coffee shop.

You do your best to remain present with everything that your daughter is saying, but that’s proving to be hard when the ten minutes that Melissa requested for were up and she wasn’t knocking at your door. She was almost never late when she told you she would be to your apartment in a given amount of time. It’s also particularly hard to keep your focus on your daughter when your abdomen is absolutely on fire. You choose your eyes are a particularly bad cramp tears its way through your body, and when you open them Ellie is watching you curiously.

“Are you okay, Momma?”

You nod and smile at her with as much sincerity as you can muster up at this given time. “I’m okay, baby. Just bad cramps. You know how sometimes they like to sneak up on me.”

Your little girl nods in understanding, and you quietly pray that she isn’t also cursed with terrible PMS like you are. “Should I get Miss Mel?”

“It’s okay, hun,” you chuckle. “Momma can handle herself.”

“Cuddles will help?” Ellie suggests.

You roll your eyes at her suggestion. “Of course they will. Ellie girl cuddles always fix everything.”

“I know, Momma!” Your daughter’s eyes light up and she beams at you as though she had just figured out how to make pigs fly. She pulls you to the couch and forces you to recline back before she curls into your hold.

“Oh wait!” she pops back up and heads into the back hallway for a few seconds before you see her coming back out with your heating pad. She hands it to you with a shy smile.

You kiss her head softly, eyes welling with tears at her thoughtful consideration. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

You plug it in and press it to your stomach before she settles herself next to you again.

“I love you, Momma,” she whispers.

“I love you too, little girl,” you tell her. “I will always love you, no matter what. My sweet, strong girl.”

She grins at you toothily. “I know I telled Daddy Mel was my favoritest person in the world… but I think I lied.”

“Oh?” you look down at her.

“It’s you,” she says softly as she snuggles into your side before reaching for the remote and turning on the television.

“You’re my favoritest person in the whole world too, my little love bug,” you promise her with a kiss to her beautifully braided hair (thanks to Melissa).

Only once you’ve relaxed just a bit with the warmth from both the heating pad and your daughter does your body’s fight or flight response quit and you realize just how much it took out of you to confront your ex-husband. After only a few minutes of watching the Disney movie Ellie chose to watch, you end up dozing.

Dozing is a phrase to be used lightly, because when you wake up again, your little girl is no longer in your embrace, the heating pad has been switched out for a hot water bottle, and an entirely different Disney movie plays on your television than the one you had fallen asleep to.

You blearily open your eyes, and you can smell something on the stovetop that can only be a product of your girlfriend. Groaning as you stand and keeping the hot water bottle in your clutch, you make your way to the kitchen where Melissa has Ellie on her hip as she stirs whatever contents are in the pot.

You watch the two of them with soft and loving eyes for a few seconds before pulling out one of the barstools and making your presence known.

The redhead turns around at the sound. “Hey. When I came in you were asleep, and I knew El would be getting hungry soon.”

“I’m helping Mel make chicken noodle soup!” your daughter squeals from your girlfriend’s hip.

“You are,” Melissa kisses Ellie’s cheek before setting her down. “Why don’t you go grab the celery from my apartment, little miss?”

The little girl nods excitedly before racing off. 

The woman shakes out her arm and cracks her hip. “I think I need to pull up a chair for her next time… she’s getting a little too big for me to cook and hold her at the same time.”

You chuckle softly at her. “Yeah. She’s growing up before my eyes.”

“How’re you feeling?” the redhead asks as she makes her way over to you.

“Like I’m being stabbed repeatedly in the uterus,” you tell her. “Thank you for the hot water bottle, by the way.”

She frowns. “You felt okay enough to go meet your husband though.”

“Ex-husband,” you correct.

“You still met him,” your girlfriend reminds you.

You sigh. “I did.”

“You lied to me,” she says dully, and you can hear the way that she’s trying to hide her hurt feelings.

“I didn’t lie to you, Mel,” you tell her. “I really don’t feel great.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you decided to respond? That you were meeting with him?” she asks, and you can tell she’s trying to keep her temper at bay.

You bite your lip. “Because I knew you would get all protective, and I can handle myself when it comes to him. Besides, I didn’t think that he would be such an ass… I was kind of hoping he would just hand me a check for the child support he owes me and we would go our separate ways.”

“Did he?”

You huff. “No. I told him that if I didn’t have the money in hand by the end of the month that I would get a lawyer. I was going to storm out when I ran into you two.”

Melissa just nods thoughtfully before Ellie comes running back into your apartment with the requested vegetable in hand. “Thank you, sweetheart,” your girlfriend smiles. “Great job. I think I have it from here because it’s just chopping up the celery and letting everything simmer, so why don’t you go play in your room while I take care of your momma?”

Your daughter beams at the praise and nods before raising her arms. Of course, your girlfriend obliges and lifts her onto her hip. Ellie presses a quick kiss to the redhead’s cheek and squeezes her gently before wiggling to get down again. She then comes to you and carefully winds her arms around you. And then she’s off giggling to herself about whatever make-believe game she was planning on playing.

Melissa chops and dices the celery quietly and deep in thought before throwing it into the pot.

You finally break the tension. “Mel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

She turns to you at that. She just shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Honey,” you sigh as you shuffle off of the barstool. You stumble slightly.

“Hey,” she catches you quickly. “Take it easy.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wrap an arm around her waist. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t mean to make you so angry at me that you needed time to yourself to calm down after we got home.”

She takes a deep breath as she guides you back to your chair. “Hun, I’m not gonna lie… I wasn’t pleased to see you out and about, especially with him.”

“I know,” you mumble.

“But I get why you did what you did,” Melissa tells you gently. “And I ain’t mad… not anymore.”

You sigh a breath of relief.

“I told you I needed ten minutes, and that ten turned into twenty while I found the ingredients to make you soup,” she lets you know. “I still came over, I’m still taking care of you because it’s clear you really aren’t feeling well… don’t think I didn’t miss the way you nearly doubled over in pain at the shop.”

You smile at her gently. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses you softly. Then she tells you, “If you need a lawyer to get the child support, I know a guy. Just let me know, babe.”

The next time Jared messages you, you tell Melissa immediately. You tell her so immediately in fact, that you accidentally interrupt her science lesson with the kids.

“Miss Y/N?” she raises a brow. “I am in the middle of teaching.”

“I know, I know,” you apologize. “But just…” you hand her your phone.

She glances at it before closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ll deal with this later, okay?”

You nod. “Sorry. Continue on with your lesson.”

At lunch, you settle down in the staff room while she heats up your lunches.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I guess take Ellie to the park today?” you shrug. “But come with me?”

She taps at her phone before groaning. “I have a meeting with Tyrone’s parents, but I’ll meet you there after?”

You end up walking down to the park with your daughter as she tells you all about the different things she had done today in first grade.

“I’m so glad you’re loving first grade, baby,” you smile down at her as she swings your hand with hers.

“I do,” she nods seriously. “But I do miss Mrs. Howard.”

“You still see Mrs. Howard all the time when she hangs out with Mel.”

‘Sn’t the same,” Ellie shrugs. And then when the two of you approach the park, she breaks out into the biggest grin at the sight of Jared.

“Daddy!” She drops your hand and runs for him. He lifts her up immediately with that sparkling smiles of his, and you catch up a few seconds later. 

“Thanks for letting me have this one, babe,” he smirks at you.

You glare at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah,” Ellie pipes up. “Only Mel gets to call Momma that now.”

Jared looks to your daughter. “Oh?”

“Well, they are dating,” your daughter shrugs. Then she focuses her attention on the swings. “Push me on the swings?”

He takes her over immediately and gives her a big push on the playground equipment. Ellie giggles with glee the entire time. Then she runs off to go play with a few of the other kids that have made their way to the park after school, and you and your ex-husband find a bench to sit on while you watch her.

“So,” he looks you up and down.

You huff. “Screw off. I’m only doing this for my daughter.”

“Ours,” he corrects.

You fire out, “I’m still waiting for my child support check.”

“About that,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Jared, I wasn’t kidding when I told you that if I didn’t have the money in hand by the end of the month I would sue your sorry ass.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, damn. Where was this fire when we were married? It makes you way hotter.”

“Oh, eat my shit.” You turn your attention to where your daughter is running around playing tag. You can tell she’s tiring herself out- at least she’ll sleep well tonight. 

You don’t bother to speak to Jared again until Ellie comes running over to you. She immediately climbs into your lap and snuggles up against you.

“Momma, I’m hungry.”

“Okay, baby,” you brush a few of the flyaways away from her face. “We’ll start heading home so Momma can cook dinner then.”

“Can Daddy come?”

As much as you want to tell your little girl that he is not welcome in your new living space, the hopeful look that she’s giving you is too much. “If he wants to come, he can.”

Ellie grins up at you tiredly, and you stand with her in your arms. You start to make the trek back to your apartment complex with as much gusto as you can, but your daughter is getting heavy, and the Midol you took earlier in the day is starting to wear off. The severity of your cramps are getting stronger again, and you have to fight to keep the pain out of your face.

“Here,” Jared says softly. “Let me take her.” He lifts Ellie off of you and continues to carry her the rest of the way to your apartment. 

During your walk, you text Melissa that your time at the park got cut short because Ellie was hungry and to just meet you at your apartment- that Jared would be there, and you expect her to play nice.

She of course texts you back that she just got out of her meeting, that she makes no promises, and asks if he handed you the child support money yet. You reply with a thumbs down, and she tells you that she’ll get into contact with her guy on the way home.

You unlock your door and have him set a now sleeping Ellie on the couch before making your way into the kitchen to start dinner. Instinctively, he picks up a knife and helps you to start cutting up the vegetables you’ll need to make dinner.

It takes you back to when the two of you were married and cooking dinner together was considered your sacred time together. You wipe a tear away as you finish cutting up the tomato.

“Hey, are you really in that much pain right now?” Jared asks you, softly… tenderly.

You just nod. He doesn’t need to know that you’re in just as much emotional pain right now as you are in physical pain.

Your ex-husband takes you by the shoulder and guides you to one of the chairs at the table. He grabs the heating pad that you had left on the counter earlier that day and plugs it in before pressing it to your abdomen.

Just as he’s going to pull away, you hear the front door open again. You know it’s Melissa. And as she rounds the corner, Jared kisses you for her to see. 

Tags (and lemme know if you wanna be included in this!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[tanuki-voice]

Your body ballooned when you gave in to eating junk. There was nothing like the feeling of being stuffed, feeling the sugars and saturated fats crawling through your veins. You loved it, were given over to it, totally addicted. In the end, the thing that broke down your inhibitions wasn't their relentless advertising, or even the clever marketing. It was the coupons.

It began simply: you would come home from work tired and hungry, and order fast food. To expedite the process, you'd downloaded all the value apps for the places in your area. The promises of free stuff and quicker ordering was too good to pass up. However, you'd forgotten to turn off notifications.

Every so often, your phone would ding with a new deal, a temptation, a siren's call to get you to order in exchange for deep discounts. In the beginning, these were free fries, an upgrade to a larger soda, a cheaper sandwich. All the same, on those late nights, it sounded good. Why not treat yourself once in a while?

Of course, soon, "once in a while" turned into "every few days", then "every other day", until you found yourself becoming slowly dependent on the offers, a bit of elation from every little perk. The more you ordered, the more their algorithm could read you, serving you exactly what you desired, calling you each day at the proper time. As if trained, you would feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and your mouth would begin to water. It was time to order.

The algorithm, of course, was not entirely in tune with your identity. It was a being designed to generate profit. By ordering so much, so often, you had managed to convince it you were a large household, and it reacted accordingly. The deals changed to suit this belief, family size meals, multi-packs, pastries by the dozen. You ordered them all, gorging yourself without end to fuel your ravenous appetite.

What began as a dinner routine extended to other meals, and soon after that you'd even find yourself going through the drive-thru for a quick snack between meals. To live in such gluttony, messily pigging out without end, shoveling food into your mouth day after day, brought you such pleasure. You found yourself going back, again and again, every day, consumed by the desire for more. Tonight was no different.

Reclined into your sofa, you awoke from a potent carb nap. Your lunch, two large pizzas, half a dozen donuts, an order of chicken wings, and a 40oz soda, had truly taken it out of you. Your enormous belly strained your comfy pajama pants, barely covered by an extra large t-shirt. Your hands comfortably rested on its pillowy softness. Through the mountains of squishy fat, you felt it rumble. It was time for dinner. And right on schedule, your phone buzzed.

With potent glee you snatched it up. Today, if you ordered in the next hour, you could get a meal for four, burgers, onion rings and milkshakes. The kicker: order now and get two more burgers free. Your payment details had never danced across the screen faster, and thirty minutes later three greasy bags full of food were dropped off judgement-free at your door.

You brought them back to the sofa and began to chow down. It had become tradition for you to eat without a shirt on by now; your meals had long since become too indecent to go without dirtying your clothes. Your tummy bared to the world, you picked up a burger in one hand and a fistful of onion rings in the other, and devoured. Like an animal you ate primally, as if starved, not knowing when your next meal may come. There was no one to tell you you couldn't, only you demanding that you would. Each mouthful was calorie rich, and each was washed down with more food, more milkshake, more trash.

You spared one of your grease covered hands to rub your stretch mark covered stomach. As you teased gassy burps and wind breaks from your middle, it growled, pleased, yet still expectant. Rarely was it ever satisfied. No matter how much you stuffed into it, it wanted more. It commanded you to fill yourself, to bring yourself to the brink, feeling as if you would pop. Your appetite controlled you, but under its warm, pleasant, hazy influence, you were happy to be its willing pawn.

The joy of feeding took priority over anything else. You felt like you could eat forever. Your body would adapt to the gluttonous demon you had become, one whose mind lived in its stomach. To eat was so simple, so thoughtless, mindless. You just let your belly think for you as you ordered, and let it bring you to pleasurable, mind-clearing bliss. Your body, particularly your ample midsection, was a temple, a testament to the food gods you worshipped. You loved to see it grow, to see it flow over you, to see it bulge, swell and fill your chairs and mattresses.

A loud belch stirred you from your enraptured state for just a moment to see that you'd gone through a majority of your offerings. There was a slight sting as you realized your feeding was nearing its end. Suddenly, without thinking, your hand reached for your phone again. Your stomach rumbled. It wouldn't be satisfied with just this, but would you really go over that line? Ordering even more, without thinking? Was this who you had become?

A notification dinged. If you ordered in the next thirty minutes, you could get a dozen eclairs for half price. Your bloated belly purred. Maybe it was who you'd become, and maybe you weren't ashamed of it. You had been, at one point, but that reluctance had faded. This was who you were, an insatiably hungry animal given over to your muses, and you loved every second of it. Dessert wouldn't hurt. And perhaps, maybe, even a little after that. You smiled and confirmed your delivery. You had a long, gluttonous night ahead of you, and you were raring to get started.

[sweetheartsaku]

(BHNA) REAL MAN.

𝜗𝜚 TOUYA TODOROKI: 𝓑LOOD SAGE.

a/n: [fem!reader] touya meet not-so-cute 🤍 for @seneon the only touyalvr ever and @katsukistofu's fav fire hazard 😔✊!!

a cold wisp floods the concrete path, tickling your ankles through your thick boots. deafening music mixes with distant police sirens and train blares, loud synthesisers muffle between agape windows and violent yet causal chatter. bustling, late-night city life pulsates through your ears.

you aloofly roam past unique, ominous quirks with boomboxes and strobe lights, knives and blades as if it’s purely a walk in the park. instead of cute dogs they were rabid, probably radioactive creatures. instead of lush trees, there were blinding neon lights. there was probably cursed chemicals concocted in the air too, but if it didn’t kill you, who cares? did everyone just come to forget how easy villain life can be, if you just— made it look easy?

the concrete beneath you is damp, puddles of water in every dent and crease of the ground, water trickling off stall roofs and rain runs down your cheek. the cold winter breeze makes it difficult for a nearby crook to light his cigarette, causing him to throw it on the ground, mercilessly crushing the warm cigarette butt with his heel.

you watch as the rando does his work, slowly proceeding to walk along. you find yourself a couple buildings away from the man, looking up at the flickering, slanted sign that read: “SIX TO MIDNIGHT.” the light on all the vowels faded out.

“watch it, doll.”

you turn around and your eyes meet a pair of vibrant turquoise ones. —what’d he just call me?

the mysterious ravenette chuckles before he sees your fists slightly clench, but facial expression remain the same.

“woah. touched a nerve there.” to then gently shoving you out of the doorway, palms heating up; leaving ash on your shoulder before slipping through. you lose him in the crowd within the classy bar, the scent of alcohol with strong cologne filling your senses and gag reflex at the tip of your tongue.

get the money, get out.

your client is one of the most successful and most popular in the area, but at what cost? payment pickup at the worst, most crowed bar, only available at the peak number of drinkers and villains, at the smack-bang very centre of the bar. being one of the best assassins had its perks, and this definitely wasn't one of them.

can’t believe i beat ass just for a little gain in a pig's den.

you never felt the need to grab a beverage while your inside though. you just feel the need to get in and out as fast as possible every time, so how could this time be any different?

his turquoise eyes haven’t left you. that's what.

his piercing yet agile gaze remains on your figure. he didn’t stand out in height, nor costume. but what slightly piqued your interest was his burnt flesh stuck together with staples and oh don’t forget his undeniably enchanting, teal eyes.

you decide to ignore it, but why can't you bring yourself to take the last step out the door? the money is in your hand, the bar’s atmosphere is still lingering with alcohol, and your first impression didn't seem close to a fairytale.

was this that stupid gut feeling of danger heroes have when their sixth sense ignites? oh please, forgive me for thinking it's a fleeting romance.

a dim purple light shades an area in a nearby corner, instantly attracting your on-edge figure. naturally pivoting to the nearest empty seat, the unsettling feeling seeps in as you manspread, taking as much space as you could crossing your legs. your gloved arms reclined on the backrest behind you, sighing as this funny feeling echoes through your head. the leg beneath the one you crossed it over begins to bounce by habit. you brush loose droplets of rain off your shoulder. your mind runs to places. your hands tightly grip th-

"our first encounter was pretty abrupt, huh, doll? slow dance it out on the floor?"

you quickly react to the same mysterious man who once had his eyes glued on you, now in front of you. you cockily smirk before retorting,

"no one ever taught you to be a real man, huh, handsome?"

he chuckles as he extends his hand, brushing the end of his coat as it drifts behind him. your gloved hand that once tightly gripped the backboard of the seat instinctually clasps his. he promptly pulls you up, finding yourself with one hand on his shoulder and the other lightly laced with his. his other hand finds its respectable spot on your waist, fingers sprawled against your plush side.

"what should i call you, hm?" she stares at his lips before her glare moves up to his eyes.

their bodies were so close and nearing to pressing each other. this was not a good rep for a prestigious assassin like you. the proximity clicks your senses back on finer than before, his sage cologne fusing with the scent of blood and smoke.

"touya. you?"

"pretty name, touya. couldn't keep your eyes off me before?"

"you're a peculiar one, aren't you?" he snickers.

"interesting. not peculiar." you correct.

you continue. "gonna answer my question?"

his grin cocks up as he watches your smirk form with stitched eyebrows. your hand slowly moves from his shoulder to behind his neck, fingers brushing the hairs on his nape. your grip on his intertwined hands become tighter.

"getting eager, are we?"

locked eyes, tight proximity and brash yet romantic words have got to be one of the worst combinations known to man right now. a rosy blush warmly spreads across your face, (hopefully) hardly visible under the dim cold lights.

would you hold it down and take it if I gave you a chance?

he feels every inch of you, from the hand slightly grazing the back of his neck to the soft skin underneath thick material of your gear. heat arises from every place, the warm, tender tension stirring within both of you.

need the reassurance, baby,

not a silly romance.

[l-1-z-a]

A lot of reused objects in E3 2003 trailer from The Sims 1

Reference #1: Guinea Pig Painting

Reference #2: Recliner, hula lamp, stereo system, blue sofa, moderate TV.

Reference #3: Cafe sofa and chair (recolored), end table and coffee table.

Reference #4: Coffee table (upside down).

Reference #5: Coffee table, red flowers, wedding flowers.

Reference #6: Blue vase.

From The Sims 2 Beta Discord Server:

[theceaselesshunger]

Amalgam Prince Chapter 1: Drifter Busy Eating Burgies

Decided to post the WF fic here while I wait for my AO3 invitation. Here's a lil doodle to go with it!

January 8, 1999

Arthur stepped into the mostly-barren mall, the squelches of his effervon soaked feet reverberating through the enclosed space. They were accompanied by pops of electricity from derelict appliances and water dripping from at least a dozen leaks in the skylight.

Home sweet home. He punctuated the thought by bursting a balloon under foot as he approached the security office he had made into his command center. The worn office chair that occupied it welcomed him, calling him into its arms. He obliged, throwing himself into its mesh embrace. Three breaths. That’s how much time he’d give himself to relax before he resumed his vigil.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…………… exhale.

Arthur’s hand found its way to a walkie-talkie. With the press of a button and a static screech, it came alive. “Status report.”

Aoi’s voice came through first. “Me and Amir are still checking over the wiring in the basement. Uhg, it’s a miracle the techrot hasn’t gotten into the mall’s power supply yet.”

Amir chimed in from the background. “It’s sure getting into everything else, though! Ever seen a security cam bloom? Reminds me of that movie by Tom Carpenter- look alive! We got a crawler!” The sounds of miasmite screeching crackled through the speaker before cutting out.

“Well, hope they ain’t dead,” responded Quincy. “All’s easy sailing on my end, Maj. Not an acid-huffin’ pig in sight.”

“Igual, same old same old at the ‘infirmary.’” Lettie’s scoff came through, followed by panicked shuffling. “Ay mierda, Anita get away from those gauze!”

Arthur smirked to himself.  Same old same old indeed.

And yet it never really gets old, does it?

A feminine voice slipped into his mind. It felt less intrusive with every conversation, but Arthur remained unsure if he’d ever get used to it.

How’re you, Eleanor?

Oh, just resting. You know how close this couch and I are…

Arthur imagined the dramatic gesture she likely performed with that statement, lovingly caressing the upholstery or stretching provocatively upon it. He reclined back into his own seating, seemingly satisfied with the state of things. The Hex had been in dire need of normalcy (at least by their standards) after the New Years that never was. They… hadn’t really discussed it much, and he wasn’t going to rock that boat today. Perhaps he’d allow himself a moment to nod off. His eyes began to droop, the hum of a dozen CRT screens setting his nerves at ease. But just as sleep was about to embrace him, a thought held it at bay. He realized he had forgotten someone. 

Oh, right. Eleanor, any idea what our guest is up to?

Our resident time-traveler? Give me a moment… Ah, food court. You know, you should really just give him his own radio so you don’t have to use me like a glorified GPS.

Yeah, yeah. Arthur sent his sister a feeling of gratitude as he rolled his chair along, trying to get an angle on said food court. He could just barely make out the time-traveler in question; the figure hunched over in one of the stalls. Was he eating? And vigorously at that, if the man’s shimmying was any indication. Arthur hadn’t felt comfortable sharing the location of their rations with the stranger just yet, but then what was he going to town on? The hobby chef in him had to admit he was quite curious to see what the people of the future considered a meal.

He pocketed the walkie-talkie and willed himself back onto his feet. He stepped gingerly towards the stalls, as if the new arrival might scurry off with their snack like one of Lettie’s rats. Moans and other sounds of satisfaction filled the air the closer he came. Marty was really enjoying whatever he got his hands on. Upon reaching the stall, Arthur bent ever so slightly to peer over the other man’s shoulder, only to see…

An Argon Burger™ Kids’ Meal?

“Seriously?” he questioned incredulously.

The Drifter sputtered and jumped, startled from his reverie. He cupped his hands around his mouth, ensuring none of its contents accidentally fell out. The look in his eyes was absolutely piercing as he turned towards the lieutenant. Arthur still found himself taken aback by their intense golden light.

“Dahn’t yoo know eet’s”- the Drifter swallowed- “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on someone while they’re eating?”

“Er, sorry. Just didn’t expect you to be eating, uh, stuff like that,” Arthur said while waving his hand towards the spread.

“As opposed to?” The Drifter took a sip of a cola that looked comically small in his hand. His lips curled into a tiny smile as he savored the sweetness.

“I don’t know. Space food? Venusian noodles or Martian omelettes or… something,” he said with an exaggerated shrug. “Something fancier than the bloody Höllar menu.”

The Drifter spoke in-between mouthfuls of fries. “First of all, I didn’t exactly have the option to bring food with me through the Helminth. Second, ‘Venusians’ don’t eat and Martians are long gone. And third-” another gulp- “I don’t know what a Höllar menu is.”

Arthur smirked at that. “Right… Where did you get that anyways? Most of the burger joints in this city have been closed for months.”

“A Scaldra locker. Was hoping to find some supplies, but can’t say I’m mad about this.” The Drifter messily shoved what remained of the child-sized hamburger into his mouth. His face was sheer bliss as he proceeded to suck his fingers one by one, not wanting to waste even a crumb of greasy goodness.

Arthur winced at the display, multiple questions running through his mind. One being why were Scaldra soldiers eating kids’ meals, but he went with a more pertinent one. “Wait, you just… took it from some bloke’s locker?”

The Drifter gave him a puzzled look. “Yeah? Why?”

“Scavenging supplies is one thing, but stealing a guy’s lunch is… Well, odd if I’m being honest. No bites already taken I hope.”

The other man averted his gaze as he reached for a napkin.

“Oh c’mon…”

“Look, look! The Tenno are honorable warriors but we have two rules: Don’t waste valuable resources. Such as food…” he added under his breath. “And if someone points their gun at you, whatever’s in their locker is your’s…” He smeared the napkin across his half-stubbled, half-metallic jaw, catching any stray sesame seeds or spots of ketchup. “... Cause they’re not going to need it for much longer.”

Right. Arthur grimaced as he watched the Drifter casually stuff the refuse of his meal back into its smiling container. The juxtaposition between the time-traveler’s quirks and the ease in which he dealt death made even the veteran soldier’s skin crawl. But maybe death felt cheap to those who could slug it off like a bad hangover. He didn’t understand it. Much as he tried not to dwell on it, his own had been haunting him for the past week. He could barely use the microwave without recalling the dry sting of the radiation burns.

He found himself scratching at his skin before a warbling sound and a flash of light snapped him out of it. In place of the Drifter stood a hulking creature of gilded steel and pulsating energy, a full head taller than Arthur. It looked down at him with impassive, rectangular eyes. Caliban, he believed the Drifter called it. A fully realized version of whatever the Hex had become.

“I’m going back out. Anything we need in particular?”

Arthur shook his head, shoving off the eerie sensation of hearing the Drifter’s voice coming from such an alien being’s… face? “We’re fine for now. Just see if you can find anything of use. No half-eaten burgers, please.” 

The warframe shot him a thumbs-up as it turned towards the garage. Arthur was about to make his own exit until the weight in his pocket reminded him of his dear sister’s request.  

“Wait! Take this with you. Eleanor’s been hounding me about it.”

He pulled out the walkie-talkie and tossed it to the Drifter, who snatched it mid-air like it was a toy. He regarded it for a moment, turning it around in his frame’s clawed hand. Arthur couldn’t quite tell, but the Tenno almost seemed amused.

“Thanks… But uh, how do I use it?”

“Sol help us…”

[honeylullaby]

“Well, I am a member of the Clitory party.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Whilst eating his favourite meal, Rupert is rudely interrupted…

18+ FANFIC / Smut from the off. Mentions of our Lizzie 🥰 Short Work. Reader character aged at 21.

You hated Rupert Campbell-Black, you made no bones about it. Having been brought onto the Venturer team some months ago for your tremendous contributions to historic programming at the Beeb, you had been thrust into the bosom of a village of misogynistic, leering pigs — perhaps with the exception of Freddie Jones. But, the worst of them all, there was Rupert. With his venereal comments & suggestive glances, you made a conscious effort to stay firmly out of his way. The only person you could bare to speak to in the village of Rutshire was Mrs Lizzie Vereker — tawny-haired with a companionable charm, and who tried to placate your hatred of Mr Campbell-Black with passing comments of how he’s ‘not that bad.’

-

Swirling his tongue ravenously across your swollen clit, you grasped desperately at your empty bottle of whiskey on the mahogany table, eager to find something for stability. “Oh, Rupert!” You groaned, reclining on your dining chair, sodden cunt pulsating in ecstasy. He feasted at your pussy like it was the most delectable meal he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. Sliding your willowy hand underneath the table, you rake your hand through his jet black locks of hair, tightening your grip. His animalistic grunts sent carnal reverberations through your body, making your back arch as you approached your orgasm.

You were both so wonderfully loud, that you didn’t hear the front door click shut, and Lizzie Vereker’s soft voice calling out “Only me!” Rupert brought his finger to your hole, sliding it inside you and smirking to himself at your deep groans. There was nothing he adored more than seeing you squirm under his touch. Unbeknownst to you both, Lizzie had kicked off her suede boots at the door, and was pottering down the hallway, clutching a wicker basket laden with sandwiches, bantam eggs and champagne.

“Oh my God!” She howled in shocked stupor, throwing her hands across her eyes, mortified at the scene that was laid out in front of her. Unfortunately for her, she had witnessed Rupert sat under the dining table, lapping at your cunt, and you, affixed in a dazed jumble in the chair in front of him. It took a few painfully slow moments for you to register Lizzie’s presence. “Jesus, Lizzie!” You yelped, straightening yourself out and pushing away Rupert’s head. As expected, Rupert is as blissfully unfazed by it all. He slowly retreated from the table, standing up and lighting a cigarette.

“What on Earth are you doing? How has this happened?” She squawked, refusing to make eye contact with either of you. Never before had Lizzie’s face blushed such a crimson shade of red. “Well, I am a member of the Clitory party.” Rupert tittered, an infuriatingly smug smirk plastered across his face that earnt a swift smack on the arm from you. “But I thought you-you hated each other! Some of the things you said!” Lizzie flapped, motioning her hands towards you. Her admonishment felt more like embarrassment for herself than anything else. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. I know this must be… something of a shock for you. But we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” You mumble under your breath, complexion mutating to the most terrific shade of mauve. Lizzie was so taken aback, she could’ve fainted. Rupert, however, slid his hand beside you and gave you a firm pinch on the bottom. All this sneaking around turned him on tremendously.

“In the quiet, my heart only speaks your name.”

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac # 46 : Monkey date

The monkeys goes on a date and the pilgrims are on babysitting duty

Wukong was leaning over the cubs’ crib, playing with the pups. Savage was looking up at him with excitement, pawing at his huge fingers in glee. Rumble was clutching his Wukong doll tighter, sometimes leaning in the soft touches of his Pa, rubbing against the pad of his fingers to have more pets.

“Come on, buds. Repeat after me, Pa.” Cooed Wukong, trying to coax his babies. It was his new pastime. He wanted more than anything to hear his pups’ first words.

“Aaaa.” Babled Savage.

“Pa.” Corrected Wukong as he booped his lil firecracker.

“Aaa!” She repeated with a lil blep.

“Pa, busy bee, Paaaaaa.”

“Aaaaaa.” Giggled Savage as she began to chew on his finger. Wukong sighed in fondness and let her do as she pleased. He then turned towards Rumble. It was always more difficult to make him blabber. He usually stuck to his mrrps langage. But the great sage learned that if he drowned his son in pets and snuggles the lil guy would be more willing to indulge him.

“Come on, puss-pouts, do it for me, say Pa.” Cooed Wukong as he petted the lil guy. Rumble slowly blinked up at him, he yawned, still drowsy from his nap.

“Aa.” Muttered Rumble.

“Pa.” Repeated Wukong.

“Wa.” Chirped Rumble, he then buried himself in his doll. Tired after so much effort.

“You're still trying to make them talk?” Chuckled Macaque. He was not far from the crib, crushing leaves to replenish his vials in different powder and medicine.

“It's a lost cause.” Snorted Bajie, he was reclining on the grass, arms crossed behind his head. Wukong huffed, he threw a glare at the pig demon.

“Well, I believe in them.” Replied the great sage as he got back to his cooing.

“We'll resume the journey tomorrow morning.” Informed Sanzang, he was dutifully polishing his staff with a wet cloth.

“I'll take the first watch tonight.” Hummed Wukong, he was not feeling very sleepy anyway.

“Actually, why don't you go out with Macaque for the evening? You guys are new mates and you don't have much time alone together.” Proposed Wujing. Bajie, Sanzang and Ao Lie perked up at the proposition. Both monkeys had been very… insistent in their courting as of late and it was becoming bothersome, for the lack of other terms.

Bajie still remembered the time Wukong brought back an outrageous amount of fruits only to impress his mate. It was hell to cook.

Wujing remembered when he got slapped by a demon's weapon because Wukong wasn't paying attention to the fight going on, instead looking back at Macaque every minute.

Ao Lie remembered when Macaque messed up the braid he was weaving in his hair because he was distracted by Wukong cooing at the cubs.

Sanzang remembered the night he stayed awake because of the two monkeys giggling and whispering sweet nothing to the other, believing no other heard them.

Gods, if those two could calm down their courting after one date, it would be great.

“What about the cubs?” Asked Wukong. He wasn't against spending time with Macaque but leaving the cubs didn't seem right.

“We'll babysit!” Replied Sanzang.

“You're sure?” Asked Macaque, he knew how tiresome his babies could be, especially Savage.

“We've never been surer.” Assured Ao Lie. Wukong considered the proposition. If he was honest, spending alone time with Macaque sounded great. Not that he didn't like his pups or his brothers. But… it would be great to have some quality time with his new mate.

“W-well, we could if you want to?” Tentatively asked Wukong as he glanced at the black-furred monkey. Macaque stopped grinding his leaves and nervously scratched his neck.

“Why not?” Replied Macaque. Wukong's tail wagged without his consent, the sage cursed and tied the unruly limb to his hips. Macaque snorted, he found it cute.

The great sage summoned his cloud with a flick of wrist, Macaque climbed on it and settled comfortably. Both monkeys left following the winds.

“Now we gotta be careful with the cubs. Especially Savage, she's slippery.” Warned Sanzang, he knew this from experience.

“How hard is it gonna be to babysit two brats?” Scoffed Bajie.

Ao Lie leaned over the cribs and winced. “There is only one in there.” All the pilgrims turned towards the crib and face-palmed. Rumble looked up at them innocently, as if his sister wasn't missing.

“This is gonna be a long night.” Sighed Wujing.

Meanwhile, both monkeys were admiring the starry sky. Macaque was sprawled on Wukong's chest, nibbling on the fruits the sage passed along to him. Perhaps it wasn't as romantic as it could be, but it was nice. They talked about silly things. Indulging in their more cheesy side now that they were alone.

“You know, your eyes are like rubies.” Mumbled Macaque as he looked up at the sage. Wukong snorted.

“You always become more cheesy when no-one is watching.”

“It's not my fault. You should stop being so cheesy-worthy.” Playfully huffed Macaque.

“Oh it's my fault now?” Smiled the golden monkey.

“It's always your fault.” Teased Macaque as he stuck his tongue out.

“You lil gremlin!” Chuckled Wukong, he took Macaque in his hands and began to tickle him. Macaque shrieked with laughter. Trying to wiggle out of Wukong's fingers in vain.

Wukong took pity on Macaque after a few minutes and stopped tickling him, instead he patted him on the head. Macaque smirked and kissed the tip of Wukong's fingers. The great sage flushed and glared at his mate. “You-” Grumbled the sage but he stopped himself. He got a devilish idea. The golden monkey brought Macaque closer to his face and smooched his head.

Macaque yelped and fluffed up, caught off guard by the affectionate gesture. “That was foul play.” Grumbled Macaque.

“Everything is fair in love and war.” Hummed Wukong.

They spend the rest of the night playing and talking. Basking in the other presence. When they got back to the camp, they found the pilgrims in a pitiful state. Sanzang was covered in mud, Wujing was removing twigs stuck in Ao Lie's hair and Bajie was on the floor, dead to the world around him.

Savage and Rumble were in their crib, peacefully sleeping, looking like angels.

“I don't think I even want to know.” Snorted Wukong.

+ cut scenes

Bajie *when Savage disappeared* : Where is she!? How is she so fast? 😧

Savage *hiding in the dark. Preparing to jump on one of them* : 😂🤭🤭

Sanzang : I didn't think baby monkey laughter could sound so ominous, but here we are. 😅

Ao Lie : ack! She jumped on me! 😣

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[hughiecampbelle]

Pig (Lukas Matsson × Roy!Sibling)

Characters: Lukas

Word Count: 1,368

A/N: Do I love, love, love Roman for going off on him? Yes he is my baby boy!!! I don't really know what this is, I just know he'd be v creepy to the Baby Roy sibling and it would definitely get backlash from the older siblings 💞 Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLISTS/TAG LIST 

You are like your father. He speaks in a way that is thoughtful, though not kind. Forward, as if he were scared to waste a second of time on frail pleasantries. He is frank, honest, his humor bordering on indistinguishable. And yet, there is something about it you cannot resist. Cold, calloused, and cruel? You ask lightly, staring down your drink. He laughs with his whole chest. Its a strange thing to hear from him, a man like him, who uses his humor not in a defensive way, but an offensive way. It drives your brothers mad, and your sister can’t stand the look of him, but there is something about him you can’t quite piece together. A puzzle you can’t solve. The fact that you don’t know him makes him all the more intense, more of an unknown. He knew your father though, and that in itself is enough of a red flag. He trusted men made of barbed wire without morals. He had a type. Unpredictable, he offers, but intelligent. You both see the whole picture. What kind of picture were you looking at now? Matsson reclined in his chair, drinking carefully. You stood opposite to him, leaning against the back of the chair, swirling your drink, too aware that you were only people in the room. Too aware of the silence between you was thick, obtuse, that there were the muted sounds of your parties mingling just outside the door. You didn’t want to claw your way back to them, making small talk while they talked poorly of you in their mother tongue. You weren’t eager to see your own kind either. Equally as indigestible, they questioned why you were even here. Couldn’t even wait for the body to be in the ground. You said without thinking, watching your drink spin. He doesn’t look at all surprised. Do you think that makes me barbaric? From anyone else, it would have come off egocentric, feigning worry, fear. The way his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, he seemed genuinely concerned. Had he never thought about it? Really? Something in him must’ve known the timing, the demands, they were off. Thoughtless. You let the question linger in the air for a moment, watching, waiting for his expression to change. It never falters. Who are you? What kind of game are you playing? We all do what we have to, you shrugged finally. That’s the truth. In this life, this game, there is never a right moment, only the correct move. He nods, his eyes moving from you to the floor. The lulls in conversation are natural. Never awkward or painful. The ice in your glass clinks together. It’s all you can do with your hands. Behind him, the night, the mountains, everything sleeps soundly under the dark blanket of the night sky. 

Can I ask, what are you doing here? Here, where? Here in Norway? Here in his room? Or, here in existence? You couldn’t do it, be left behind. Take care of the funeral arrangements. Connor was there, but he kept calling you, Rome. You didn’t have the heart to pick up, to deal with him, with any of this. When you found out they were going, you packed a bag. They didn’t say no outright, but they didn’t say yes either. Too bad. It wasn’t rainy enough on New York. The corners of his lip turn up for a few seconds. Funny, you can practically see the thought form in his mind. Funny, yes. No, no I mean what are you doing here, now. Your eyes meet his. Because you found me wandering alone, trying to get away from the collegiate mayhem, and you invited yourself in. You shut the door. You locked us in. You poured us drinks without asking, assuming, getting comfortable on the couch. Was it deeper than that? Trapped with a man who wanted your company, your everything, to take from your brothers and sister in the comfort of his own land. Sort of. Almost his land. A hell of a way from home, that’s for sure. 

You’re nothing like them, you know. He says this so seriously, so matter-of-factly, it makes you want to laugh. How so? Clearly, he’s seeing someone you aren’t, a fictitious replacement of the person standing before him. You’re exactly like them. All of them. Connor, Kendall, Siobhan, Roman. All of you responsible for your own faults, your own misgivings, equally fucked up by your father one way or another. You figured he was smarter than this, at least you would have hoped so. Pick up on the things others didn’t. Notice you weren’t sitting across from him, not wanting to get too comfortable. Swirling your glass, never taking a sip. You wouldn’t dare get sloppy in his company. Or how about the facial expressions you make when his party speaks, matching theirs. Förstår du detta, motherfucker? You weren’t an idiot, far from it actually. He seemed to be though. You just are, in a good way of course. Was this going to get you take your clothes off? This “sweet talk”? He had to be better than this. Has anyone ever told you you’re a complete fool when you open your mouth or are you too busy surrounding yourself with yes men? You bite your tongue. The thought lingers than you’d like. Why are you talking to me? You ask instead, your glass sweating, the alcohol becoming watery, runny. I have no stakes in this company, not really. My brothers and sister are in charge. They make the deals, agree upon the numbers. I’m here on vacation. You go on, the words falling from your mouth before you can catch them. Of all of us, it should be Ken in here, making small talk, trying to figure you out. Not me. His grin made your skin crawl..

I like you the most. If you had been drinking, you would have spat it out, though the shock of that didn’t read in your expression. If I could, I’d make all my deals with you. Only you. He didn’t even know you. You could count the handful of times you’d ever interacted. It was always full of snarky comments on your part, the kind your siblings had to come in and rescue you from, though you preferred them not to. You take a step back, needing space, air. Please, sit. He pats the space next to him. No way would you get any closer than this. You got the sense that if you got too close, he might try to bite you. Stick his hand between your legs. Worse. You can only shake your head in response. No thank you, your father would correct. He wasn’t here to do so, though. Still, this deal is a big one. You had to be respectful, right? You’re just saying that to be nice. I’m sure you would rather talk with Ken or Rome, they know a lot more than I do. I wouldn't even know where to start. You laugh, hoping this is the end of the conversation. Hoping someone could come in and rescue you. No one ever did. Shadows passed beneath the door, but there was no knock, no clearing of the throat, no one to notice you were gone. That he was gone, too. Those airheads? He chuckled. You slammed down your glass. This was your out. Truthfully, your brothers could be idiots. They were idiots. Together they shared a single coherent thought once every blue moon. Still, he didn’t have to know this. Your ticket out. Your anger was beautiful, your disgust just perfect. He stood quickly, trying to self-correct. Y/n, I didn’t- that wasn’t meant to- what I mean. . . Too late. You moved to the door before he hand the chance to block you, jiggling the handle, fiddling with the lock until it opened. Outside, you could finally breathe in something that wasn’t his cologne. You needed a shower. You needed to talk to Ken, Rome, Shiv, whoever. Let them know who they were really dealing with. Jävla kryp. You hissed loud enough for him to hear before slamming the door shut. Fucking creep.

[gluttonygirls]

"Ah, welcome. May we cater to your taste?"

The Yakumo Niterie is a business that's seemingly popped up overnight. The building has one entrance, leading to a lobby that splits off to two sides, each totally different.

On one, you'd find a 1960's American diner. With booths with excessively padded upholstery, sectioned off with high backed seats and looming corners, it gives the illusion of being a proper business even if the seating arrangements offer more privacy than a real one would.

Fatty foods grace the menu, greasy burgers paired with galloon sized milkshakes. All delivered by cheerful waitresses more than happy to serve, dressed in skimpy shorts and tight tops. Though, they're just as enthusiastic to slip into the booth and stuff their face right next to you, bloating up bigger. Strangely, despite it all, they never seem to keep the weight after closing hours. For those that want to see cute girls pig out, it's the perfect place.

On the other hand, some want a more romantic, high class experience. The second half of the building is far more luxurious, low lighting casting odd shadows through the flickering of candlelight. Pillows and sofa are set below hanging silk sheets, incense wafting through the room. Alcoves offer the privacy, allowing one to indulge on fine food and good company without worry.

Reclining on this rooms, languishing in the dimness, are beauties clad in silk. Beautiful dresses and ornate jewelry accentuate their voluminous forms, inviting you in to lay with them. While food is abundant, the women here are just as apt at conversation as they are are at eating, and can use their wit as much as their appetites.

Whatever taste you prefer, Yukari is happy to serve.

[gascon-en-exil]

A Primer on Actual (SFW-ish) Male Fanservice

Has this ever happened to you? You're making a social media post or video or whatever about Fire Emblem Heroes, and you point out that a primary feature of the game is its unrelenting torrent of horny-just-verging-on-explicit female character designs: the physics-defying bras, the impossibly-contorted boobs-and-butt poses, upskirts and camel toes galore, strategically-placed rips in damaged art, the odd foot focus here and there, etc.

You're making a good case - not that it's hard, IS is not subtle about any of this - but then someone comes along and leaves a comment to the effect of "but the summer banners have shirtless men! Checkmate, loser."

This post aims to counter that, to demonstrate that genuine male fanservice on par with what FEH does with its female characters looks very, very different and amounts to much more than just muscular guys with their shirts off. To do so, I'm going to have to pull example art from pretty much the only video game subgenre that can be relied upon to deliver here: sexually explicit gay dating sims. We're going to be looking at how these games frame the male body, and what sexualized (partial) male nudity really looks like outside of the aspirational power fantasy lens adopted by most mainstream, straight-male directed media including FEH.

Of course, I'm gay myself, and I can anticipate the rebuttal to this rebuttal - that women, allegedly, do not eroticize the body in the same way as men...unless they're dirty fujoshi in which case their opinions can be immediately discarded. I leave it to any women reading this to have fun unpacking that nonsense.

(It must be noted that, while the games I'm pulling these images from are all explicit, I've gone out of my way to select art that would theoretically fall within what seem to be the content guidelines of FEH: no exposed genitals or bare butts. I'm labeling this post SFW-ish all the same though, so use your discretion when viewing.)

Let's start with something simple and softcore from Coming Out on Top.

This is a variant on a popular mild fanservice image: a guy lifts his shirt, exposing his belly (and possibly stomach hair). In context this is also intended to convey vulnerability, as the character is drunk and struggling to undress. Also noteworthy is that the framing here is explicit with the MC in the shot.

Continuing with the softer stuff, here's one from clicker game Blush Blush.

This game has a bunch of technically SFW options to choose from, but I went with this for two reasons. One, it's an example of how shirtless men can be eroticized without being excessively muscular; two, it's a goofy holiday pic that teases with the strategically-placed candy cane and the allusion to the "Dick in a Box" Saturday Night Live song. The NSFW variation of this image goes full throttle with that idea.

From All Men Are Pigs:

I really wanted to include something from this game as its art style stands out quite a bit in contrast to many of the others here, although unfortunately some of the best examples break the rule. Here in a rare (for these games) non-sexual action pose, the character is performing a ballet routine on a stripper pole in a gay bar: a campy concept that works fairly well in context and that explicitly calls attention to the character as an eroticized object. He is, however, consenting to the in-universe ogling, and as he's elsewhere revealed to have experience with sex work it's understood that he knows the value of showing off his body. Call that something you'd never hear a character express in FEH...except someone like Camilla, perhaps?

Let's get a little spicier with a pair from Full Service.

This may be the tamest of the swimwear outfits seen in the game's beach episode, but I wanted something that would compare to the summer banner designs of FEH's male characters. Even so, note the pose: reclining, legs slightly open, displaying a single nipple. This guy is the biggest bottom in the game's cast and is framed as such, even with the relatively conservative outfit and the sunglasses obscuring his face (which symbolically tie into his internalized biphobia and anxiety about publicly expressing his attraction to men). Further, because this character is a model it may be assumed that the posing is intended to be read as deliberate.

This one comes from the game's costume night set piece, which includes several designs that wouldn't be out of place in some of the more random seasonal banners. I chose this one as a counterpoint to what FEH does with its shirtless men. There's the cocky expression, the crotch bulge with nothing underneath, and the angling which makes it look like he's standing over you. To contrast the beach image, this guy is the total top of the cast, so the musclebound partial nudity is less about being aspirational for the presumed viewer and more about erotic dominance.

For something more fantastical, here's one from the sci-fi title The Symbiant: Re:Union.

This game's main claim to fame is alien tentacle porn, but this scene is intended as a moment of genuine, human(oid) vulnerability for the character, on the night when he reunites with his ex (the MC and viewer here) for the first time in two years. The camera pans up over his entire body, ending on this view in profile with a very large nip slip and the cigarette calling attention to his hand and mouth. As with several others, this image is also deliberate enticement, conveying both the languor of casual hookups and the weight of the characters' history together. (Obviously a mobile gacha doesn't have the space to grant such narrative or thematic significance to its eroticism...but that is part of the point.)

Moving along, here's one from Camp Buddy: Scoutmaster Season. Get ready for the just-shy-of-X-rated.

This one's a character portrait, unlike all the others here which are CGs, so debatably it's more in line with what you'd see in FEH. And...yep. It's a sexy bull costume. "Crotch bulge" doesn't begin to cover it, there's the pubic hair, the pierced nipples, and assorted other bits like the bell and the saddle and the tailed butt plug. Some time ago I showed off a different horny character design from this game and got an anon calling it stupid, so let's talk about that. Is this design technically something someone could wear in real life? Yes; parts of it resemble bondage gear, and the character displays his interest in leather in another scene. Is it impractical and stupid? Quite possibly. Does the subsequent sex scene take full advantage of the costume for some Dom/sub barnyard roleplay? Also yes. This continues my point about designing beefy (heh) muscular guys, and how there's a world of difference between this and, like, Hawkeye or summer Ephraim/Dimitri/whoever.

Incidentally, this character also has an oversized dick to the point of straining disbelief and the MC's insides. If you're looking for the male equivalent of breasts so enormous they can barely be held in by barely-there tops, that would be giant dicks - and there's no way in hell that we'll ever see those in FEH, even in technically SFW bulge form.

Continuing with BLits's games, here's one from the upcoming Jock Studio.

It's a male boobs-and-butt pose, one that doesn't require the character to dislocate his spine! I chose this image because the pose and outfit choice is remarkably similar to that of the notorious Tharja Summer Scramble DLC pic that got censored outside of Japan. Jock Studio actually has a better instance of the same pose with a different character, one where the MC's horny dialogue even calls attention to the ampleness of those two elements; unfortunately, the character has his underwear off there so it's too horny for this post. Much like Tharja with Anna in the DLC, here the character is being surprised by someone walking in while they're changing and making comically lewd remarks about their body. The contextual difference is that, rather than being forced into a swimsuit, the character here is disrobing to film a pornographic scene, and is only surprised by the MC only just now learning that their club makes porn. Hilarity ensues in both cases, but JS's setup is ironically less voyeuristic despite the game's premise.

Finally, let's close things out with one last image from Coming Out on Top. Very borderline, but I've got a distinct point to make with this one.

Like a lot of media, gay dating sims often struggle with eroticized depictions of various types of men, among them fat, hairy, and middle-aged (or older). I believe the oldest human character with a stated age in this post is the bull guy, and he's merely in his 40s. But back to the image above, it takes full advantage of the size and age of the character on the right relative to the MC. His bulk takes up much of the frame, but it's clearly an intimate, protective embrace you'd expect of a bear daddy character. I point this out because larger and/or older male characters are often disregarded outright in FEH, or like Fargus recently they're paradoxically given more fanservice-y designs (Visible nipples and chest hair! In FEH!) presumably because the developers think that no one would look at them that way.

I think that's enough for now. The important thing to remember here is that sexual fanservice is more than simply degrees of nudity. It's about framing, angling, which body parts are emphasized, and when possible the surrounding circumstances and how they inform the character's eroticism. Is it deliberate, is it accidental...

...or is it just there to get you to gamble for your favorites?

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

Friendship Prompt: You're sad and the guys are there for you

Warnings: none. gender neutral reader. guys are 17-20. some self-loathing and insecurity

You have had enough. How dare your boss/teacher bite your head off over one minor mistake? All you did was hand in an assignment/proposal with a minor spelling mistake, and boom! You're now the worst person to have ever existed.

The entire ordeal really set something off inside of you. You felt angry, you felt hurt, but you actually felt bad about yourself the most. You felt like you just couldn't do anything right anymore. Every little thing you did and suddenly it was like you murdered a bunch of puppies.

This hadn't been the first time this week you got your head chewed off. Your friend got mad at you for asking if you could borrow a top after you spilled something on yours. Suddenly you were needy and took advantage of people. Then you kept messing up while doing (favorite hobby) and now your boss/teacher yelled at you. Everything has just boiled over.

You just wanted to be alone and not see anyone. Normally you'd go to the lair to hang out with the guys but today you just wanted to be by yourself. You were scared that you were going to make one of the guys mad or do something that would cause a disturbance on accident. It was best in your opinion to just go home.

You unlocked your apartment door and walked in. The TV was playing and there was talking from the kitchen. You slowly closed the door and took off your shoes, setting your bag down. You walked in and saw the Knicks were playing on the TV. Mikey was sitting on the ground in front. Donnie was standing at your island with a bag of cheese puffs in his hand, making comments about the latest play. Raph was on the recliner, an orange crush in his hand and what appeared to be a bowl of popcorn on his knee. Leo was quietly sitting at the island, munching on some doritos.

The sight wasn't unusual, in fact it was quite the opposite. The guys often came over for the Knicks game because, well they never gave a reason, but they were often in your space watching the game. They'd bring over a ton of snacks cause they have big apetites and just pig out and yell at the TV. You found it homey.

They also wondered to your apartment sometimes after patrol on the weekends and you'd find them the next morning. You'd make them breakfast and help them clean up. They'd spend the entire day with you, lounging and watching movies.

"Hey Y/N." Donnie greeted you, wiping his mouth on a napkin then walking over to you, leaning down and kissing the crown of your head. "Game just started."

"Yay Y/N's here!" Mikey cheered, jumping up and coming over to you, hugging you. "I haven't seen you in so long, babe!"

You let out a breathy chuckle, patting his shell. "You saw me yesterday."

"That was soooooo long ago." He whined, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"Yeah yeah, back up." Raph grumbled, pushing Mikey away from you before planting a kiss on your other cheek. "How ya doin?"

"I'm okay." You replied, a small smile coming on to your face from all the affection. "Long day, I'd rather just not talk about it."

Raph patted your head before heading back to his spot on the recliner. Mikey kissed your cheek one more time before going back over to his spot.

"Here! Allow me to make you an ice cream sundae that's scientifically proven to boost morale." Donnie offered, opening your freezer.

You appreciated that about Donnie. He didn't pry but he would try in small ways to cheer you up. He always used the "scientifically proven" excuse whenever he suggested anything/offered to do something to make you feel better. You knew, he knew, that it wasn't scientifically proven, but it was a cute way of saying "let me cheer you up."

You didn't protest, instead you pulled out the chair next to Leo and sat down. You noticed he had made tea, you could smell the jasmine coming from his empty cup that sat next to him.

Leo wiped his mouth with a napkin before leaning over and planting a kiss to your forehead. "That bad, huh?"

Donnie reached over and handed you a big bowl of ice cream with sprinkles, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and gunmy bears on top.

"Bonn Appétite!" Donnie cheered, patting your head and returning back to his bag of cheese puffs.

"Thanks." You told him, taking the bowl and looking at Leo. "I just feel like I keep doing everything wrong like all the time."

"Says who?"

"Everyone."

You took a bite of ice cream and sighed. You couldn't help but to feel this way. Everytime you felt like things were going right and falling in to place, it just all falls apart. You were at the point in your life where you wanted to just enjoy where you were. You wanted to not have to second guess yourself or walk on egg shells. You were tired.

The energy in the room had shifted and the air became dense. You could feel the weight of your bad week just coming down on your shoulders. You felt worse than you did on the way home.

"Why are ya crying?" Raph's voice rang through the living room.

You reached your hand up and felt your face. You were crying and didn't even notice it.

"I-I am?" You asked, hurriedly wiping your face with your free hand, feeling your cheeks wet. "I'm sorry."

"Awww c'mere my little angel puff." Mikey cooed, coming to your side and setting your ice cream on the island before hugging you.

Mikey's hugs were either wild and tight, or warm and comfy. This was one of those warm and comfy hugs were you feel nothing but love and security. You felt shielded, protected, safe. He just knew when the right hug was needed, it was his sixth sense.

"It's..It's just been a hard week." You whispered, sniffling lightly, nuzzling into Mikey's plastron.

"Aw Y/N, we all have hard weeks. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's okay." Donnie said from behind the island.

"C'mon kid, no need ta cry. In fact, I'll tell ya what." Raph said, you could hear him get up. "Tell me who it is and they won't eva do it again."

"You can't beat up my boss/teacher, Raph." You mumbled, pulling away from Mikey. You felt Mikey still rubbing your back. You wiped your eyes.

"Why? They a girl?"

"Raph." Leo snapped, hitting his brother in the shoulder.

"Hey," Raph put his hands up, "I wouldn't hit'er, I'd just make'er cry a little."

Raph was ever the protector. Fiercly loyal and always ready to have your back. You recalled one time where an ex-friend had called you and was giving you a hard time. Raph over heard and practically ripped the phone from you and gave them an ass chewing. You never did hear from them again.

"You wanna talk about it?" Leo asked, his blue eyes filled with concern. You shook your head. "We're all ears when you're ready." He gently patted your shoulder.

Leo didn't pry and he didn't push. Instead he offered small gestures of comfort. Not a man of many words but his eyes held his vulnerable emotions. He was precise and intentional with his actions. You appreciated how soft and kind he could be and how he knew when it was appropriate.

Mikey lifted you up and grabbed your ice cream bowl, handing it to you. "I say cuddles from Michaelangelo is the perfect medicine."

"Leave some Y/N for the rest of us." Donnie complained, a mouth full of cheese puffs.

"Now we ain't ever gonna get'em back." Raph grumbled, his lips turning in to a small pout.

"It was my turn." Leo mumbled, you could hear the pout in his voice.

You chuckled as Mikey carried you to the middle couch and sat with you in his lap. His arms were securely around your waist and his chin was on your shoulder.

Maybe this is exactly what you needed, not to be alone.

"You're so cuddly, Y/N." He whispered, a smile on his face.

Suddenly you didn't feel bad anymore.