#the glutton review

[girlfromthecrypt]

First book I finished in 2024

The Glutton by A K Blakemore is a historical fiction novel; a reimagining of the life of the real French soldier Tarare who was said to have an unfathomably large, at times inhuman appetite. This was the first book I finished in 2024, and I finished it in two days over two long sessions. I'm normally anything but a fast reader and I actually haven't finished any of the last three books I purchased before this. My attention is fleeting, hard to be captured and easily lost.

The Glutton captured and held my attention for the entirety of its length.

I had never read anything by A K Blakemore before, so I didn't know what I was in for, but I was immediately charmed by her style. I don't often enjoy flowery language and poetic prose, but somehow, it really worked for me here. The story of Tarare is a gritty, gloomy and at times disgusting one, but even the darkest parts of this book are told in a narrative voice so beautiful that it makes them seem idyllic. This deeply unsettling contrast had me absolutely engrossed until the end, and when I had turned the last page, I was genuinely sad that it was over. Which made for a weird mix of emotions, given how disturbing the subject material was at times.

And I have to underline that it was, indeed, disturbing.

I have consumed a lot of dark literature and am very desensitized. Most of the time, I don't enjoy horrific fiction because the elements contained within strike me as senseless, gratuitive and void of substance. I didn't have that feeling with The Glutton. There was a lot of grittiness, yes, but it was never just for “the effect”. Every time the writing made me feel uneasy, it directly related to the inner world of the protagonist and the circumstances of his life, the current time period and its hardships. And even if it didn't have any kind of meaning, it was still told in such stunning prose that it almost felt romantic. Again, none of the things that happen in this book are comforting or beautiful, but with the way they're being told, it almost deceives you into believing they are.

Another thing that I loved about this was that the prose never seemed overdone or pretentious. It was more like a steady ebb and flow perfectly tailored to any given point in the story. It never seemed out of place or ill-fitting while at the same time being VERY MUCH out of place and ill-fitting, but it was always intentional and highly effective.

After I finished this book, I felt genuinely empty, and I just knew I was going to miss it. Now, a week or so later, I do. I really feel like this book is something special, and I'm definitely going to pick up The Manningtree Witches (also by A K Blakemore) as soon as I get around to it. The Glutton was not only a huge joy (though joy might not be the best word for it) to read, it actually made me want to read more. That's also why I wrote this review in the first place. I hope more people check this out and like it as much as I did.

#historical fiction #book review #dark literature #bookblr #book recommendations #histfic #disturbing #books and novels #amazing book #a k blakemore #a. k. blakemore #the manningtree witches #the glutton #the glutton review #spoiler free

[five-star-reads-only]

Let me introduce you to my favorite read of November.

Oh, yes, I realize that November is far from over. It’s possible that something could top this or, at the very least, stand beside it. That’s just difficult for me to imagine right now, as I absolutely adored The Glutton.

The story is strange, evocative, brutal, disturbing, and lyrically composed. I could not ask for a more outstanding blend in a historical fiction novel.

There is a great deal of decadent symbolism, like a rich chocolate indulgence you must savor slowly. I was especially intrigued by the numerous occurrences of deep red imagery leading up to and in the midst of the French Revolution, but the novel is, in all ways, deliciously layered.

It’s impressive how Blakemore managed to paint Tarare into a sympathetic character; a monster not born, but made. As the novel began, I had not expected to feel anything beyond revulsion toward him. As readers, we eventually see how innocence is tainted and irrevocably changed by violence. I came to understand Tarare as a symbol of poverty, greed, war, and trauma, individually. He became the all consuming nature of each of these savageries. I felt saddened by his story, how he was never given the right to be his own person, and how he was used by many for personal gain. His hunger was not the only thing beyond his control.

Unlike Tarare’s appetite for food, my longing for an utterly absorbing novel has been satiated.. Make no mistake, though: This story is profoundly distressing. I, however, found its wealth of insight and gorgeous vocabulary worth every ache.

“‘You are telling me these stories so that I will pity you, so that I will think you hard done by, and I do not believe you. You are not a victim. You are a vile, unpleasant man.’

“He rolls his blue doleful eyes toward her. ‘Can I not,’ asks the Great Tarare, ‘be both?’”

#the glutton #book review #literary fiction #historical fiction #the glutton of Lyons #book thoughts #five star reads #good books

[strangemagicc]

Muse | Part One

masterlist | next>

pairings: modern!artist!Eddie x fem!Reader, classmates to lovers

summary: you laid there exposed, nipples perked and goose flesh blossoming on your skin. their eyes were watching you, studying the curve of your hips and the length of your legs but no gaze was as intense as his.

author’s note: this kinda got away from me but there’s just something about Eddie calling reader a good girl 🫠 I did my best to edit it so if there’s mistakes I apologize! Comments/reblogs are always so appreciated 🖤

w/c: 5.5k

warnings: smutty smut smut, p in v, oral (reader and Eddie receiving), creampie, slight dom!Eddie, uhh praise kink if you squint

The room was cold, the walls white, a little medicinal. Light cascaded through the windows, hues of tangerine and gold creating a warmth against the expanse of your exposed flesh. Your head rested against your shoulder, arms pressed into the wooden stage below you, legs posed to the side elongating your body. You could feel their eyes on you, pensive and concentrated but you focused your gaze on the wall behind them. Studied the cracks in the plaster and the splatters of paint from classes before. The minutes ticked by, slow and tedious. You shifted your gaze to the left, eyes meeting intense chestnut. He smiled at you, small and polite before looking back at his canvas. Lines formed on his forehead, eyebrows raised high as he captured the curve of your waist and the flare of your hips. He was handsome, conspicuously so. Curly auburn hair tied into a low bun, black t-shirt clinging to the muscle of his tattooed arms. A walking canvas, perfect lines and shadows. Heat rose to your chest, blossomed in your cheeks and your breathing became more shallow. Your eyes darted away from him, back to the wall behind him and you remained focused refusing to linger a moment longer on the curve of his jaw or the cluster of freckles on his nose. Worried that he’d noticed you noticing him. Because you had noticed him plenty of times. On campus and in class. Sitting in the back of your art history sketching in his journal as the professor droned on and the minutes ticked by slowly. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, give you a smirk or a small wave to let you know that weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought. Each time heat would rise to your cheeks, eyes darting away. And you would be embarrassed if you hadn’t caught him just as fixated, just as hypnotized.

A timer began to beep alerting the class that you were due for a break, that your pose would change once you returned. You pushed off your hands, stretched your shoulders, and rolled your wrists before grabbing for your robe. The plush fabric was a welcomed comfort, cotton soft against your skin. Students talked amongst themselves, reviewing each other’s work, their creations of you but no one spoke directly to you. Over the last few months, you began modeling for the figure art class to make a few extra bucks, to make your way through college, and to get your own art degree. At first, it was awkward, you were unsure of yourself and how to place your body. Uncomfortable having everyone’s eyes on you for an hour, studying the flesh of your stomach and the stretch marks on the curve of your ass. But it became easier, almost second nature to be bare in front of mostly strangers.

You continued stretching your neck as you walked towards your bag for a snack hidden in the depths of your purse. You needed something, your hunger nearly loud enough for those around you to notice. The granola bar was sweet against your lips, apple and cinnamon. A little stale from sitting in your cabinet too long. Still, you hummed as you devoured it, eyes closed and savoring each bite.

“That should be your next pose,” a deep voice stated from above you. You opened your eyes, chocolate brown looking back at you with a smirk. A whisper of a dimple on his cheek.

“What would you call it? Glutton?” You joked back, taking another bite to cover the way your breath hitched when you got a whiff of his cologne.

“Hmm, I was thinking ecstasy. Something about how your eyes roll whenever you take a bite seems fitting.” You chuckled at his words, heat blossoming in your chest at his sentiment. Ecstasy. He popped a grape into his mouth from the bag he was holding, thumb lingering on his lips as he eyed you. A mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he wiped his hand before reaching it out to shake yours, your eyebrows meeting with a crease at the gesture. Seemed a little formal after he’d already seen you naked. But still, you slipped your small hand into his much larger one, felt the calluses on his fingers and the ones against his palm as you introduced yourself. He smiled and repeated your name with a nod, your hand lingering in his as the two of you stared at each other in silence. You shook your head, a little dazed as though he had put a spell on you.

“Aren’t you in my art history class?” Eddie pushed a hand into his pocket and leaned back on his heels as he made small conversation.

“With Professor Blake?” You tilted your head watching as his eyes wandered down your frame and back again.

“Yeah, that guy. Always has a coffee stain somewhere.” You nodded along with his description, watched as he talked with his hands making gestures as he spoke mimicking Professor Blake’s mannerisms and the dribble of coffee he always had.

“That would be him,” you giggled again, wadding up the wrapper to your granola bar.

“How are you liking the class?”

“Something about art history makes me want to stab myself in the eye but otherwise it’s fine. Blubbering Blake makes it pretty entertaining, classmates are pretty cute,” he mused and kept his eyes trained on you. Your gaze fluttered, an abashed smile found a home on your lips. You cleared your throat as you tried to formulate a response.

“I think it would be more fun if we spent more time looking at the art while we listened to them drabble on. More than just slides y’know? I like to be immersed in it.” As though that weren’t obvious by your lack of clothes moments ago. Your nerves were ignited making you antsy, a little bit of a rambling mess.

“I feel the same way,” he gave you a thoughtful nod, “You can only see or understand so much from a lecture and it’s usually all from a PowerPoint anyways,” he shrugged, gaze lingering on yours. He was unabashed with his staring, the way his gaze wandered over the length of you.

“You know what I’m really excited to see?” He nodded for you to continue, crossing his arms as he listened. Your enthusiasm was evident, wide eyes and a huge smile.

“Yayoi Kusama, her exhibit is going to be in Philly.” His gaze changed, excitement building at your words.

“Seriously? Holy shit, I have to see that. I’ve been following her work for a while,”

“Well if you’re interested, I have an extra ticket for tomorrow. My friend bailed on me.” Your date had bailed but he didn’t need to know that. You shrugged your shoulder nonchalantly as if he wasn’t a stranger. As if this wasn’t your first conversation and you weren’t asking him to go out. As if you weren’t dying to end the night with him in your bed. 

“Fuck yeah, I’m interested,” he nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Great,” you beamed, “it starts at eight if you want to meet there?” Eddie shook his head.

“Absolutely not, I’m picking you up. We can get dinner after.”

“This is sounding a little like a date, Eddie.” You teased him to hide the nervous butterflies that were unraveling at your center.

“I hope so,” he smiled at you fully, one you couldn’t help but return. The alarm went off letting you know that your break was over, that it was time for your final pose.

“Dinner sounds great,” you whispered over your shoulder as you walked back towards the makeshift stage and dropped your robe. Eddie shot you a wink, dimpled grin on full display as his gave traveled over you.

You clawed through your closet for the better part of an hour, your bedroom littered with rejects as you examined your reflection in the mirror. The black fabric of the short corduroy dress you’d decided on hugged you, accentuating the curve of your hips and ass. Your cleavage pressed into the fabric, the top button hanging on for dear life. You paired it with sheer black tights, a leather blazer, mary jane pumps, and a daring red lip. A little pop of color. You shook out your hair, teasing it with your hands for a little volume before sliding on your gold necklace and matching hoops. You felt cute, a little hot even, and winked at yourself in the mirror laughing at your own cringe before checking your texts to see one from Eddie that said he was on his way. Excitement filled you, a motley crew of butterflies swarming your abdomen as you anticipated his arrival and thought over your conversation, exchanging numbers after the class had ended. You’d thought about it since the day before, going about your routine with a little hum, a small smile and now the moment was here.

Eddie knocked at the door softly and straightened out his appearance as he waited for you. You smoothed out the lines of your dress, fixed your cleavage, and looked at your reflection in the hall mirror one last time before answering. His eyes widened, jaw slack as he looked at you. You were equally off guard, admiring his simple black button-down paired with black jeans that accentuated the curve of his thighs. He wore rings on either hand, big and intimidating. His hair hung at his shoulders instead of the bun you saw him in yesterday, a small chain tucked into his shirt. Eddie smelled like bergamot and sage, a hint of cinnamon from the gum he had been chewing.

“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he finally looked into your eyes. You melted under his gaze, flattered was too small of a word to describe how you felt under the intensity of his regard.

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you complimented, slightly entranced by the smell of his cologne.

“Flattery will get you anything, sweetheart,” he chuckled, hiding the redness of his cheeks as the two of you walked out of your apartment building. His hand stayed at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of hallways, down the elevator, and out the front door.

The fall night was chilly, a gentle breeze biting at your skin and you tucked yourself further into your blazer.

“Are you okay taking my motorcycle? If not I can get us a Lyft. I didn’t realize until I was on my way that I hadn’t mentioned it when I insisted on picking you up.” He grimaced.

“Let’s take your bike,” you assured him with a smile as the two of you walked in step. His bike was parked near your building, matte black and sleek. You let out a low whistle and walked ahead to get a good look at it.

“It’s so fucking nice,” you enthused, secretly always wanting a bike but knowing you could barely walk on two feet let alone ride on just two wheels.

“Thanks, got her this summer. Took her to the coast and some beaches. Was a pretty kick-ass time.” Eddie grabbed his helmet, adjusted the strap, and turned to you offering it.

“I don’t have an extra, don’t usually ride with a passenger,” he shrugged, “hopefully this will fit you.” He handed you the black helmet, matte to match his bike.

“Are you trying to say that I have a big head?” You scoffed playfully. His eyebrows shot up, devious. Like he didn’t want to be the one to tell you the truth that you were carrying a globe on your neck. You swatted at his shoulders playfully, a small giggle escaping.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he pretended to wince, rubbing his shoulder like it still stung all the while smiling broadly back at you.

“It was so implied in those eyebrows,” you pointed at them, drawing a little circle in the air in case he forgot where they were.

“They have a mind of their own,” he raised his hands as if he didn’t have an explanation and watched as you tugged the helmet on. It was tight against you, cheeks squeezed on the sides like your uncle used to.

“You might actually be right,” you grimaced, thinking of how unflattering the whole thing looked.

“I promise that’s how it’s supposed to fit,” he chuckled reaching over and adjusting the chin strap. Eddie tapped your head slightly, shot you another wink that went straight between your thighs. He was suave, annoyingly confident but it had you hungry. Wanting. He slipped his legs over the bike, the fabric of his jeans bunching around his thighs and you eyed the swell of his ass. Eddie chuckled at the directon of your gaze as he held his hand out for you, helping you onto the bike and instructing you to use his shoulders to get situated. The muscle flexed under your touch, solid. You wanted to glide your fingers along them, skim the hard muscle of his arms into his back.

“How you feeling back there?” He peeked over his shoulder at you.

“G-good,” you stammered placing your hands gently at his sides.

“You might want to hold on a little tighter.” He pulled your hands around his waist, and patted them gently after you interlocked your fingers.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better,” you nodded even though he was no longer looking. He took off, motorcycle vibrating beneath you. You pressed your face into his back, arms tight around his stomach as the wind whipped against you.

Eddie walked you to your door, palm on the small of your back, your body buzzing with the two margaritas you had over dinner and the warmth radiating from his touch. You weren’t drunk, just a little less wound tight. Nerves melted into oblivion. Inhibitions near nonexistent. The date was good, great even. You had thought of this moment all night, how to invite him in and if you were being too forward. If you’d read into how his hand dipped from the small of your back to the swell of your ass. If you imagined the hunger in his gaze that was mirrored in yours.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you beamed, back pressed into the wood of your door as you looked up at him. A little flirty, eyes batting. His brown eyes searched your face, settled on your bottom lip and he swallowed hard.

“I had a lot of fun too, thanks for inviting me.” He leaned a little closer, bergamot and cinnamon filling the small space between the two of you. His eyes darted back and forth between your gaze and the pout of your lips. Debating. You leaned closer, back leaving the surface of the door, the swell of your breasts brushing against his chest as you did. He crowded your space, pushing you gently back against the wood, one hand resting above your head and the other playing with the hem of your dress. You tried to seem unphased but the way you swallowed had you giving away how his touch affected you. Eddie dipped his fingers under the hem of your dress tracing the line of your upper thigh to the cheek of your ass. Teasing. Eyes darkening when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear. Your hand moved up his chest, lightly scratching the exposed flesh until they were twined behind his neck, the sweet smell of your perfume making him hum. He wedged a leg between the two of yours, the sound of his boot heavy against the hallway floor, nose brushing yours as he leaned in watching your eyes flutter close. Eddie cupped your jaw, calloused thumb rubbing gently against your cheekbone, tracing a line to your bottom lip and pulling against it. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his other hand move further up your skirt, fingers digging into the doughy flesh. His breath was warm against your lips, a whisper above yours as he continued to tease you. You whined impatiently pulling him closer until his lips were pressed into yours. They were softer than you expected, plump against your own and you knotted your fingers into his curls. Pulling softly and eliciting a groan. He sucked your bottom lip, tongue sliding across asking for permission until you opened for him. Your tongues met in the middle, soft as they explored each other. Eddie’s hand cupped your jaw as the kiss deepened, his knee pressed between your thighs and you began to grind against him. Your clit rubbed against the rough material of his jeans making you shiver with the contact. You felt him twitch against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressed into you making you moan into his mouth. He pulled away from you, pupils blown, cheeks blushed crimson. He eyed your swollen lips, a question on the tip of his tongue but you beat him to it.

“We should go inside,” you stated between breathy sighs. Eddie nodded rapidly, swallowing roughly as he eyed your cleavage before you turned around and began digging for your keys, shuffling around your wallet and tubes of cherry lipgloss. He pressed kisses to the curve of your neck, tongue darting over the nipped flesh. Length hard against you, rutting into your ass. You were unable to concentrate, head tilting back as his palms created a path until they were cupping your breasts. Your hands stilled as he explored the heavy flesh.

“You better keep looking,” he instructed, teeth grazing your thrumming pulse. You nodded, chest heaving as you dug through your purse again, finally finding the keys. You pushed the door open with shaky hands, Eddie trailing behind you. You closed the heavy wood in a rush, breaths short as you kicked off your mary jane pumps. Your apartment was only illuminated by the light in your hallway, creating a shadow over Eddie’s strong jaw. You grazed a fingertip over the bone and he shuddered, eyes dark as he pushed you lightly against the door pressing rough kisses to your sternum. You reached for the buttons of Eddie’s shirt, fingernails grazing against the tattooed flesh as the material of the black button-up dangled open. He tilted your head back to get better access, kissing down your neck, your chest, and to the top of your breasts. Your skin was warm against his lips, flushed with the heat building between the two of you. He nipped at your cleavage, fingers starting to undo the buttons that lined the front of your dress, fumbling through them quickly until the material dropped open.

“Fuck,” he breathed a groan as he eyed you, fingers gliding over the flesh of your stomach and up your chest, pushing at the straps of your dress until it fell to the floor with a soft thud. You were nearly bare, standing in just your tights and your black lace bra. Goosebumps sprouted, a shuddered breath escaped your lips and he was on you. Rough kisses, all teeth and tongue. Hungry. Desperate. He groaned as he felt your perked nipples through your bra against his muscled chest, big hands finding purchase on the curve of your hips. He squeezed you firmly, flipping you around until your chest was pressed into the door. Eddie rubbed his hands over your ass, warmth radiating through the thin layer separating him from your bare skin.

“How attached to these tights are you?” He asked, voice gruff. He began sucking a sensitive spot behind your ear as he waited for your answer.

“N-not really,” you stammered, distracted. Needy. Eddie’s right hand cupped your breast wandering under the material of your bra. He squeezed at the nipple as his other hand left a blazing trail down your back and between your thighs. You were soaked, slick arousal making your tights stick to your folds. Eddie traced the outline of them with his finger, breath catching as he felt how wet you were.

“All of this because of me?” His voice was low, warm breath fanning your ear as he pressed into you. His cock twitched against your ass and you nodded at him, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as you began grinding against him, hips wiggling against his hard length. He stilled your hips, fingernails digging into your skin creating crescent moons.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?” You nodded again, trying to press harder against him. To feel him against your clit. The friction you so desperately needed. Eddie smacked your ass, your moan grew louder. Needier. Enjoying the sting as his hand rubbed the covered flesh.

“You like that, baby?” Both his hands rubbed over the dough over your ass, against the seam of your tights, fingers digging until you heard a rip from the nylon and felt the air against the slick between your legs. Eddie gently pushed against your feet spreading your legs further apart, fabric ripped in half until the tights were two separate halves. He grabbed the fat of your ass spreading you apart bending on his knees behind you.

“Jesus fuck,” he moaned, swiping against your folds.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, finger dipping close to your cunt. “Is this all for me?” You nodded but he couldn’t see, gaze trained on how you glistened in front of him.

“I need to hear you, sweetheart,” his hand stilled and you whimpered.

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Make you cum with my tongue?” You nodded again, this time earning another slap against your ass. Your nipples pebbled at the contact, cunt gripping around nothing as your moan filled the space.

“I need you to tell me, pretty girl,” Eddie instructed, spreading you apart again.

“Please, please make me cum Eddie.” Your nails scrapped against the wood door, clawing at nothing as he teased your cunt with his thick finger. Thumb playing with your bundle of nerves. You felt his warm breath against your wet arousal and shivered, forehead pressing into the door as you bit your lip in anticipation. You were a second away from begging when you felt his tongue swipe against your folds. He groaned at your taste, lapping up your dripping arousal like a man starved. Your toes curled as he pressed further into you, head twisted so he could work your clit, thick fingers teasing your entrance. You wiggled your ass against his face, a silent plead and Eddie slipped a finger inside stretching you until he was knuckle deep. His fingers curled inside, hitting a spot you had trouble reaching on your own. Your moans grew louder, reverberating off the walls of your apartment as you got closer to coming undone.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god,” your chest heaved, eyes squeezing tight as the rubber band inside you constricted. He added a second finger, tongue lapping at your juices as you began to constrict around him. You reached behind, fingers wrapping into his curls and holding his head to you. Your moans matching his pace. He sucked at your clit, your vision going white as the rubber band snapped and you came undone. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathy moans. Body shaking as the orgasm took over. His groans vibrated against your clit making you shudder and he savored every last drop, never slowing. Lapping at your juices. He slapped your ass again, your legs shaky as he left a trail of kisses up your spine and turned you around. You melted into his arms, looked at him with hooded eyes and saw the evidence of your climax coating his mouth. You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him deep and tasting your sweetness on his swollen lips.

“You taste so good baby, so sweet,” you bit at his bottom lip. Less shy, already hungry for more. To feel the delicious stretch of the hard length that had been pressing against you. You placed your hands on his chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. You pushed back gently, a silent command.

“It’s time for me to take care of you,” you guided him further into the apartment, gaze trained on his as you undid his belt and let it fall to the floor. Your hands worked the button of his jeans, nails brushing the hair that trailed into his pants and teasing the sensitive skin there. He looked at you with hooded eyes, stopping at the foot of your bed when you got down in front of him. Knees digging into the carpeted floor. You looked at him over your lashes, teeth biting into your lower lip as you took it slow. You pushed his jeans down his hips and he kicked them to the side watching as you grazed the ends of your nails against his legs, up the swell of his muscled thighs. Smiling when he shivered at the touch. You kissed his clothed length, hand massaging his balls, trailing kisses until you reached the tip. A patch on his boxers wet from pre-cum. You stroked him through the thin fabric, hand wrapping around his girthy cock as you dragged your palm from the base to his tip. He was big, bigger than you’d ever had, and you ached at the thought of stretching around him. You stood, hand still wrapped his length, and pushed him onto the bed. He spread his stance wide, brown eyes watching as you situated yourself between his legs, his chest rising and falling in short spurts. You palmed his thighs, finger grazing the spandex of his boxers and pulled them down watching as his cock sprang free. You bit your bottom lip as you eyed his length. He was thick, an angry vein lined the underside, pink head leaking with precum. You grabbed the base of him, tongue flat as you licked a line to his tip swirling over the top to collect the pearly liquid. You moaned at the taste of him, Eddie watching you with a hooded gaze and a shallow breath. You gathered spit, dribbling it down his tip until his head was slick and grazed your flat tongue against it.

“Oh fucking Christ,” his voice was ragged, fingers gripping your sheets as he felt you bob against his length, sucking his sensitive head with a loud pop as you eyed him. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head down his length, cock twitching as you attempted to take every inch. Mouth wide, saliva dripping on either side of your gaped mouth. Eddie tensed as he felt your throat constricting around him, swallowing. Taking him deep until you were gagging. He almost doubled over, veins in his hands at attention as he gripped your hair to try to maintain self-control.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long like this,” he admitted, head thrown back. A goner. You licked the underside of his cock one last time, giving his tip a little peck and crawled over his frame, nails scratching lightly across his chest. He looked at you with a heavy gaze, thumb wiping the saliva that dripped on your chin and back to your lips. You wrapped your plump lips around his thumb, tongue darting across it. A tease. His cock twitched underneath you as you wiggled on his lap. Needy. He removed his thumb, jaw agape as he watched. He leaned in, mouth connecting with yours and kissed you until neither of you could breathe. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, the kiss deepening as he swallowed your shaky gasps. Rubbing your arousal against his hard length. Sensitive clit throbbing with each swipe. You pulled away panting, eyes heavy with lust. Dazed.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped as he clung to you, his hands reaching up to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounced out and he kneaded the ample flesh, eyes fixated on your perked nipples.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed as he took one into his mouth, sucking. Nibbling. Watching as you keened at his touch. You reached beneath you and gripped him firmly, lining him up with your entrance and slowly began to sink down. He eased in easier but was still a stretch. You circled your hips pulling more of him in until your cunt was wrapped tightly around every inch of him. There was a dull ache where you were connected, stretching over his girth. Eddie wrapped his arms around your middle, eyebrows scrunched at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, fingers digging into your sides and likely to leave evidence of his touch. You adjusted to his length, breathless and stuffed full. Eddie pressed his nose to your neck as he held you, hissing as you lifted your hips off his lap. His cheeks were flushed pink, sweat beading on his chest. He moved his hands below your ass, kneading it and spreading you apart. You clenched around him as he spread you, both of you gasping at the sensation. Eddie helped ease you up, bringing you back down over his length. The sound of your flesh slapping together filling the room. His lips were back on yours and he swallowed your moans as you picked up the pace, hips creating circles whenever you reached his tip in a tease. He slapped your ass at every taunt of your hips, and you clenched with each contact of his hand against your butt cheek. He held you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your waist and began rutting into you. Balls slapping against you with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you screamed his name, rubber band threatening to snap inside you as he continued.

“Yeah, baby? Going to be a good girl and cum for me again?” You clenched at the nickname.

“Oh you like being called a good girl, don’t you sweetheart?” You nodded, unable to form a sentence or find the words. Only able to pant his name as he continued to stretch you.

“Make sure you ask me before you do,” he instructed, his hand reached between the two of you. His thumb found your clit and Eddie began rubbing it in mean circles. You jolted at the contact, your thighs a mess from your building release. Your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, scratching at the muscle as the pressure built.

“Please, Eddie, please let me cum?” You asked between heavy breaths, vision turning white as the climax built.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart, cum all over my cock like a good girl,” he hummed watching as your head tilted and your eyes rolled, pussy fluttering around his length as the rubber band snapped. You could feel the climax throughout your body, goosebumps forming on the skin of your arms as Eddie continued to pump into you. Overstimulated, tears brimming your eyes as your sensitive cunt was stretched.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to cum,” his hips sputtered as he bucked into you with one final thrust. His nails digging into the fat of your ass, his cock twitching as he came. He pumped you full, walls painted with his release. Eddie held you, hands less firm and rubbing soft circles where he dug into your skin. He pecked your bare chest, lips sliding over your breasts, up your sternum and to your neck. Softer. Sweeter. He found your lips and kissed you with a saccharine grin. Curly bangs sticking to his forehead. You looked at him closely, his face smeared with the red of your lipstick and you giggled at the mess. He raised a curious brow as you began to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess out of you,” you teased.

“I think I’m the one who should be apologizing,” and you could feel the mix of yours and his release running down your thighs. Your hearts were beating rapidly, your hands splayed on the muscle of his chest and something about his gaze made you suddenly shy. You hid in his chest, planting sweet kisses along his pecs. Eddie tilted your chin.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he lifted you gently, placing you beside him on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss before venturing down the hall to find the restroom. You listened as he grabbed a washcloth, the sound of the water running, and the soft pads of his feet as he returned. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over your sensitive cunt, cock twitching at your gasps. He tossed the damp cloth into the hamper and watched you, admired the outline of your frame.

“I want to draw you just like this,” he remarked, eyes tracing over your frame. Breathing beginning to return to normal, hitching every time you met his gaze. You covered your mouth as you giggled.

“Like one of your French girls, Jack?”

“If you’ll let me, Rose,” he leaned over, teeth grazing your lower lip and you gasped. Returning the affection with a dart of your tongue, sucking on his bottom lip. He groaned, the length of his cock hardening with each pass of your lips against his.

“Maybe another time,” you suggested between kisses, and he nodded already pushing you further up the bed.

-

tag list: @jjmaybankswifes-blog, @trixyvixx, @dream-a-little-bigger-x, @mmunson86, @bigolidiot, @starlitlakes, @welc0me-t0-hellfire, @womanipulatorr, @tlclick73, @ali-r3n

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Delaney wishes you good luck as you go. Your heart is fluttery with nerves. It’s been a while since you actually had an interview. These days, most send you a link where you record yourself answering generalised questions. You never do well at those. In fact, you’d only ever had one job.  

You worked at a cafe in high school and after you went and got your culinary schooling done, you were promoted. It held you through the first few years of your twenties until Delaney got sick and you had to move to the city for her treatment. Your squirreled away savings got you the apartment and her stipend helped, but you’re running dry on credit. 

You need this. Desperately. But you can’t show that if you want it. You have to play it cool. Be a professional. 

You catch a streetcar down to the main row and check your phone. You’re well ahead of time. Good. You’ve never been to this particular place. You don’t go out much if it isn’t to the grocery store or the pharmacy. Delaney stopped wanting to go outside a while back. You try to encourage her but you can tell it only makes her feel worse. 

You follow the map directions on the app and stop before the cafe windows. They’re slightly tinted with curling golden calligraphy painted across them; Golden Crust. The facade is brown and yellow brick and there are flower boxes just below the windows. Behind the glass, loaves of bread lines a shelf, on display to tempt passerbys. 

The door is wide and thick and painted red. You push inside and pause to look around. The long counter is made of dark wood with clear glass cases on top containing dozens of colourful and sugary desserts. Behind the counter, the walls are lined with shelves; some ingredients, some with unfolded boxes, and more bread and packaged biscuits to go. It’s all finely organized. 

Lights hang above with brass shades, lending a low hue to the shop. Several customers wait in queue as two employees work tills at opposite ends of the counter. You don’t know whether you should join the wait or go ahead and let them know that you’re there to see Thor for an interview. That was his name, right? 

You look at your phone again. You have time. You wouldn’t want to be rude. You adjust your bag and stand at the end of the line. The women ahead of you marvel at the pristine mini white chocolate cakes with dark candied cherries on top as another whispers about cheesecake being devilish. Your own eyes wander gluttonously to the assortment. 

You peel away your gaze and look down at yourself. You put together the best you could; a striped blouse, navy blue on white, and a pair of straight-legged pants. They’re a bit outdated but professional at a glance. You hope no one notices the scuff on your right toe. 

You get to the front of the line and step up. The young girl behind the till asks what you’d like. You give an apologetic smile, “um, actually, I’ve got an interview.” 

“Ah, yes, another one for Thor,” she chimes, “well, you just come with me.” 

She’s young. Still a teenager. Her and the other cashier look to be barely graduated if that. 

She walks toward the end of the counter and she beckons you over, “I’m Thrud,” she pulls back the short little door for you to step through, “that’s Nari,” she gestures to the dark-haired worker at the other till. He’s too busy taking orders to notice. 

You introduce yourself as she takes you around to a doorway, “I think he’s just doing these in the kitchen. Last one ended early so...” she talks brightly as she bounds ahead of you like a happy puppy, “dad?” She calls as she enters the large kitchen. “Dad? I’ve got the next appointment.” 

Your anxiety spikes. You’re not the first or the last. The competition deflates your hopes even further. 

“Eh?” A deep grunt comes as head pops up from the other side of the large marble island. The man is so large his head hits one of the pans dangling from the ceiling rack. He rubs his brow and hisses, “sorry, I was just looking for my pen.” 

Thrud laughs as she crosses her arms. You notice the golden pen tucked behind his ear. She raises a hand, keeping her other arm folded, as she taps her temple. His brows arch and he feels around his wave locks and fishes out the pen. 

“Right,” he gives a sheepish look and wiggles it in triumph. 

“Anyhoo,” Thrud trills, “this is her.” 

“Thank you, Thrud,” he drones back. 

“Mhmm,” she turns and smiles at you again before she goes. 

“Uh,” you hesitate, unsure how to begin, “er,” you introduce yourself, once more “I have a resume on hand--” 

“No need,” he waves you off, “come, I try to keep these things straight to the point.” 

You near him and rest your hand on your bag, chewing your lip. 

“Wash your hands,” he directs you towards the sink, “you may put your things there.” He points to the empty counter on the other side of the deep metal sink. You put your bag there and scour your hands deliberately, taking your time as you scrub nails, knuckles, palms, every bit. You dry off on the towel he offers as you face him. 

“Here,” he gives you and apron, “would want you to make a mess. 

You tie on the apron as he turns and grabs a tray. There are half a dozen cookies on the sheet, some empty piping bags, nozzles, a bowl of icing and small tubes of food dye. You look between him and the cookies. 

“You may choose the design. You will decorate and I will ask questions, does that work for you?” 

“Um, sure,” you answer. It’s unexpected. “All six?” 

“All six,” he confirms and crosses his arms, making himself even broader. He is not only tall, but wide, and his apron does little to conceal his indulgence in sweets that gathers around his middle. 

“Okay,” you accept the challenge meekly. 

You step up to the marble island and take a moment. You twiddle your fingers nervously as you think. You don’t know what to do. You don’t want to go to simple. 

“Take your time, I’ll ask some questions and you can begin whenever you’re ready,” he assures, “so, you’re availability, it is flexibly? Our open ours are eight to six, but you are available on weekends?” 

“Yes,” you say as you set an idea in your head and read for the icing. You stir it with the wooden spoon, testing its consistency. “I have open availability most days.” 

“Most days?” He echoes. 

“Um, yes, I may have an appointment now and again.” 

“Oh, appointment?” 

“For my sister,” you explain, “but it wouldn’t get in the way, I'm sure.” 

You cringe. You’re already making yourself feel bad. 

“And so, you’ve had one previous role, what was included in that?” he asks. 

Only one... that can’t be good on paper. 

“I worked at a cafe. I was a barista for the first two years, then I was promoted to baker, and ended as assistant manager at the branch,” you explain as you fill one of the piping pages and fit the appropriate tip, “but I completed by culinary diploma while I was there.” 

“And after? What did you do? I see you’ve been out of work.” 

You’re quite as you lean over the cookies and start on the first one. Your idea is simple in premise but not in execution. Delaney loves to do cross-stitches, so that’s what you’ll do. First, the white grid and the lacing along the edges, then you’ll fill in the squares with all different colours to make the illusion of stitches. 

“I’ve been a caretaker to my sister,” you say quietly, “we only just moved here last year so I haven’t found much.” 

“And you would be able to work fulltime?” He asks. 

“Yes, she’s... she’s doing better now. I can do it,” you assure him as you keep your eyes on your precise lines. 

He’s quiet. You’re sweating. You just concentrate on the work. Maybe your answers aren’t the best but you hope your work is. You finish the crosshatching and look up. You find him watching your hands intently. As you pause, his blue eyes meet yours. He gives a smile. 

“Ha,” he scoffs, “my hands are too big.” He shows his thick fingers, “I can’t quiet get my lines that tight.” 

You nod and bow your head again. You’re not even done the first cookie. You have six to prove yourself. Six cookies to seal your fate. 

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #series #mcu #marvel #avengers #whisked away

[ducktracy]

hey youse guys! just wanted to let ya know that i’m going to be taking a social media break for the next little bit :) i normally wouldn’t make a post like this BUT, given that my blog has largely been in the throes of Mel Blanc Screams, i just wanted it to be known that there won’t be any polls for the next little bit since i don’t have a backlog

just need to get closer to my passions and find my inspirations in a more clearheaded manner! i’m sick of getting annoyed at social media and sick of then getting annoyed at me getting annoyed. i’m also a glutton for punishment and so it’s taken me too long to realize that i can just… Not! do that! isn’t that crazy. BUT ANYHOO. i’ll hope to still be writing reviews and posting them on my Blogspot.

i don’t foresee this taking longer than a few weeks. so i’ll see you when i see you! thanks for all your constant support, watch some good cartoons and remember that each day is a new day full of unique and new opportunities—take it easy, but take it!

#spoiler alert kind of i’m using this as my chosen advertisement gif for whenever i review this cartoon in the next few months but i’m proud #of that loop okay!!

[animeyanderetalker]

So you finished enies lobby eh? How’s ur one piece journey so far, and do you have any brief thoughts on the straw hats (so far)?

I’m giving you my honest review here because as much as I like the series so far, I also have my fair share of stuff I don’t enjoy.

I adore the world in One Piece. I’ve been a big fan of Pirates of the Caribbean as a child and I have always wished back then that I would see Jack Sparrow exploring all mysterious islands and finding all treasures. I got that with One Piece but even better. Each island feels unique and whilst there are definitely pacing problems at times even this early for me, I do love the aspects of exploring each individual island and learning about the rules, the environment and the life of the people calling it their home. I know that the Skypiea Arc isn’t that beloved amongst Anime fans but I really loved the arc due to the unique and interesting setting the island in the sky had. From its past to the inventions to the way people live in the sky, everything has so much personality and that has been the case with every major island so far. The sense of adventure and curiosity I always get whilst getting to know a new island is really addictive and I love the foreshadowing. The fact that the end of the Going Merry had already been hinted during the Skypiea Arc but was only revealed during the Water 7 Arc is insane and from what I have heard, Oda is great in foreshadowing and I’m looking forward to that.

What I find myself struggling with, and I don’t know if the Anime is partially exaggerating this sometimes, are the characters itself at times and the, in my opinion, lukewarm comedy that gets very repetitive and boring after a while.

Luffy:

I am actively struggling with the main character at times. Luffy is quite carefree, impulsive and does whatever he wants and it is not even that this is what I dislike about him. He has such heartfelt moments such as giving Nami his straw hat during the Arlong Park Arc despite the hat being a treasure for him or him defending the pirate flag of Chopper during the Drum Island Arc. It’s just that he sometimes is portrayed as so amazingly incompetent and stupid that I am agonizing over it. How can you get stuck twice within the same arc in between two walls and then spend episodes there whilst your friends are trying to save Robin?? Him being a glutton is expected, older Shounen protagonists just seem to have a habit of having a black hole instead of a stomach. I also still don’t understand how he learnt Gear 2 and 3 in such a short time considering that I cannot recall a time where he had time to properly train.

Roronoa Zoro:

I have very little to criticize about Zoro. Luckily his character gag of always getting lost isn’t something that is thrown into my face every episode so I can tolerate it. He’s a man of honor and I like seeing him on screen, but I’m still waiting for that one moment of him where I go from liking him to loving him. I also feel like he suffered in the Enies Lobby Arc from being paired with uninteresting opponents to fight against (Kaku and Jabra).

Nami:

I love and hate Nami at the same time. But the reason why I hate her isn’t even her own fault. As a character I love how she isn’t someone who is actively fighting and has admittedly not the most interesting fights but without her literally nothing would work. As a navigator she is irreplaceable and without her skills the Straw Hats would go nowhere. Her backstory was also heartbreaking but Oda seems quite skillful when it comes to writing a good and tragic backstory. The reason why I hate her though is because she has become more and more a victim of sexualization the further the story has progressed and I just know that it’ll get even worse. I have seen the pictures of her after the timeskip and it is so infuriating because she didn’t look like this at the beginning of the story. The freaking scene in the Arabasta Arc where she was sexualized from a camel and a crab was a different low for me because it’s the first time I have seen animals thirsting over a female character.

Usopp:

Usopp is a character I also find myself struggling with. On the one hand his creativity and his craftsmanship are to be admired. This is a man who invented Nami’s Clima-Tact and was the shipwright before Franky joined. On the other hand his character gags of being the big coward can get a little bit tiring after a while for me. I really loved the Water 7 Arc because it showed him in a much more serious light which was a nice change for once. And I am going to be quite honest here with you, I did not enjoy the whole Sogeking sequence. I understand that he was too ashamed to face his friends after he had left the crew but it got a tad bit annoying to me after a while. I was also not surprised that Luffy and Chopper were the only ones who didn’t recognize him in his disguise.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

I actually really enjoyed Sanji’s character when he was first introduced. I admired his ideology of not letting anyone starve due to his own experience of being stranded on an island without much food and the relationship he had going on with Zeff and the other chefs was heartwarming. However, his simp character has significantly increased since then to the point where it has gotten frustrating and annoying. I remember that scene in the Skypiea Arc where the Going Merry was kidnapped with a few crew members still onboard. And the first thing that left Sanji’s mouth then was that he was disappointed that Nami wasn’t in bikini anymore. I think that is the moment where I started not liking his character as much anymore and from what I have heard, it’ll become a lot more worse. It’s really disappointing in my opinion because he could be such a cool character but around women he is always reduced to a simp with heart eyes.

Tony Tony Chopper:

Chopper is adorable and I love his versatile forms he can use with his Rumble Ball. But I just wish that the show would actually give him more recognition because the 50 Berries he has on his head as of now and the fact that he was called a pet on those wanted posters is saddening. Because not only can he actually fight because he took down one of the CP9 members but he is the doctor of the ship and fulfills such an important role because of it. He is more than just a cute little animal and I hope that will be more recognized.

Nico Robin:

Robin is as of now my favorite character and I have literally nothing I can criticize about her. She is intelligent, her backstory is my favorite as of now and I love how her character also shows that it isn’t only pure strength alone that can be dangerous in the eyes of others but also intelligence. She was wanted for simply knowing how to read Poneglyphs. I’m also happy that she hasn’t been sexualized in the Anime so far and I pray to god that she won’t get the Nami treatment later on. I also love her dark and blunt sense of humor.

Franky:

Franky is incredibly likable. He is as of now the newest member of the Straw Hats so I have not as much to say about him but he is also a well built character with a nice introduction. The relationship he had going on with Iceberg and his past with Tom were well written and despite his rowdy experience he has a heart made out of gold. The fact that he took all outsiders in Water 7 under his wings and gave them a new home and purpose says really all you need to know about him and I’m looking forward to seeing more of him.

#a talks #one piece #op #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #nami #usopp #vinsmoke sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky

[foryourencouragement]

Imagine a road trip, but your partner doesn’t know you’ve planned it to run through every fattening, irresistible fast food restaurant and drive through you could find, so they’re constantly eating in the passenger seat, maybe to the point that they have to lay down in the backseat!

I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months. After meticulous planning and convincing you to use two weeks of your paid vacation time, it’s finally time for our cross country trip. I’ve found us plenty of cute places to stay and enjoy together with lots of fun things to do!

Our first stop was a cute little bed in breakfast in the mountains. The views were stunning and the food! Oh the food. Every single review for this plan talked about the food. We spent the day going between the bed and the dining room. The buffet was included with our stay, which only made it all the more easy to convince you to over eat. “It’s all inclusive, go have another plate! You haven’t even tried the desserts yet.”

The next day was a long drive to our next hotel. However, on the way I read about a bar that offered an eating challenge. Eat 50 wings in 30 minutes and your dinner is free. When I mentioned it, you boasted about how easy that sounded. So of course when we stopped there for dinner, it was the first thing you asked the waiter about. He looked down at your belly and smiled before turning the the rest of the bar.

“Alright everyone, looks like we have a brave soul looking to try our challenge! Let’s all give him a warm welcome and lots of encouragement, huh?!” He announced to the bar.

You weren’t expecting the attention when everyone in the bar looked over as the wings arrived and cheered you on. Even though it was no problem for you, you were a touch bashful to know that all of these people saw the pig you made of yourself. The free dessert from the table next to us was the perfect end to your dinner. You couldn’t help but lay back for the rest of the ride that night.

The middle of the trip was a blur of watching you eat and enjoying the views we were taking in. It was hard to truly imagine how unimaginably sexy this trip would be when I planned it, but you did not disappoint. You started begging for snacks between stops and asking me to grab you snacks at every gas station.

Your most gluttonous moments however, were when it was your turn to drive. I never would have imagined just how much of an appetite you could have while focussing on the road. Yet here we were, a week and a half into our road trip and you were still eating like you hadn't seen food in weeks.

By the last night, you practically lived in the only pair of sweat pants you brought. You had started complaining about your jeans after the first week, but you always refused my offers to stop and make a quick detour for clothes shopping. Thankfully, I had planned ahead. The last major stop was both the most fattening and the most thoughtful stop.

I knew you wouldn't be able to help yourself, so I made sure our final stop was at an outlet mall. A few new clothes for your new girth would make all the vacation weight much more enjoyable once we returned to the day to day of the real world. And thankfully, within this outlet sat one of your favorite restaurants that reminded you of home.

The happiness on your face was mesmerizing as I watched you eat enough for almost three hungry people, while I barely finished my entree. Once the meal was done, you waddled your way to the car. "Do you mind if I nap for a while until it’s my turn to drive?” You ask, rubbing your swollen gut. “I do mind, in fact. It’s time to upgrade your wardrobe, big boy. Those sweatpants won’t last much longer at this rate.”

Your face turned bright red as I leaned over and kissed you. A quick drive to a different side of the Outlet Mall brought us to the big and tall store. “Are you sure? I can’t be that big yet, baby.” You were always so cute when you were unaware of just how much you’ve gained. Whether it was a true oversight or simply feigned ignorance with flirting, it always drives me fucking wild.

I hold your hand tightly as I lead you into the store. I work quickly to find someone to help us find your new size. After spending a few minutes picking out some new pieces, you waddle your way into the dressing room. I always love watching you put on a show for me, and seeing you in your new clothes and seeing the look on your face when you see how good you look in clothes that fit made me want to jump your bones then and there.

After just a few more hours, we were at our final hotel room. That night, I explored very new inch of fat on your gorgeous body and showed you all of the new places I have to play with. When we returned home the next day, reality began to sink in. “I had a lot of fun, you know. You made these past few weeks the most fun possible.” I leaned in, placing a hand on your belly as I spoke. As we fell asleep in each others arms, I couldn’t help but run my hand gently across your new softness, knowing my plans were all worth it.

#weight gain #encouragement #me #female feeder #belly #ffa #stuffed

[adobe-outdesign]

hey, how about a shoryu review? especially considering how loads of people thought they were a cyclops for a while

Shoyru are only one of four (4) different dragon-based Neopets. Out of the three, they’re probably the most mundane—neither gluttonous like Skeiths or as detailed and elegant as Draiks or Scorchios. They also probably have the least dragon-like designs of the group, having a fairly generic body shape with only their clawed wings really pointing to them being draconic.

Visually, the design is pretty simple. They’re mostly solid in color with a darker tip on their feet and the wings, which are slightly more detailed than the rest of them. I do wish the inside of the wings was the darker color of the feet tips, but that’s a minor detail that most people won’t even notice.

In terms of customization, I think the Shoyru benefited from it as a whole. It was in need of a redraw anyway due to its then-current art being pretty dated, and the redesign doesn’t change much. In fact, one thing it does change is giving them actual mitten-like hands instead of stubs, which I’d argue is an improvement. The head is also drawn with more perspective, making it clear that their eyes are just on the sides of their heads and they are not, in fact, cyclops like many people used to misinterpret them.

Favorite Colours:

Wraith: I’ll be honest, a lot of Shoyru colours don’t really stand out to me. I think its because many of their colours were done in the early days of Neopets, when things tended to be lower-effort. That said, I do really like the wraith Shoyru, which has a really lovely shape to its wings that almost feels like a tattoo, and a great expression to match.

Magma: While it’s nothing too fancy, I do like the magma Shoyru a lot, which feels like a formal apology for the underwhelming fire Shoyru. The red-orange wing undersides pop nicely and compliment the eye, while the exposed tail tip is a nice touch.

Faerie: While not the greatest faerie pet ever, I have to give this one a shoutout for the wings, which are basically a Shoyru’s regular wings but doubled up and turned on their side. It gives it a very neat and unique look compared to the standard butterfly wings. I do wish the body had more markings—maybe some speckles to match the wings—but it’s otherwise pretty solid. The converted version is also good, though I wish the wing membranes were just a little darker and the wings a bit bigger overall.

#neopets #neotag #shoyru #neopet reviews

[ecargmura]

Pokemon Horizons Episode 31 Review - The Ploy In The Fog

While this entire episode was primarily buildup to the reveal of the fourth of the Six Hero Pokemon, I did like the mystery building up around the Lapras. A cargo ship thought it was helping them escape a fog, when it reality, it looted their food. The Pokedex entry even mentions how it is a kind-hearted Pokemon. That means it should be a good Pokemon, right?

I really liked the buildup of the reveal of the Lapras. I initially thought it was helping out sailors, until clues about a more sinister motive start floating in like the empty cargo boxes with the same logo as the ones the sailors were hoarding back onto their boat. Once the Ambipom and Toedscruel came and stole the berries, I instantly knew that this was a ploy. It seems that the Hero Pokemon Lapras has been living a life of hardships to the point it created a band of pirates to steal food from ships. My question is: why? I guess it’ll be answered in the next episode. However, it really does make me wonder if it does this out pure malice or out of survival; I’m leaning towards the latter.

Also, seeing the Brave Asagi being used as a ship was amazing; I think it’s been the first instance the boat mode shown ever since it was an older fishing boat. Heck, I think this is also the first instance where Ludlow has more screen time than he usually does! That’s amazing in itself. Other than Ludlow, everyone on the Brave Asagi had their fair share of screen time too. They all helped out with Friede’s plans to find the mystery behind the stolen food by baiting them with food. It was nice to see Captain Pikachu use its Rising Volt Tackle again. 

Although Fuecoco is super adorable, it has been used as comic relief and the butt of some jokes in recent episodes. To see it finally have some relevance in showing the true intent of having people tail Lapras made me happy. Who knew being a glutton could actually be helpful at times? On the topic of Pokemon, the Poltergeist and Sinister from the previous episode makes an appearance in this episode as they give tea to Mollie and Orla. I’m glad that they’re adjusting well to their new life on the ship. I’m actually surprised to see another Ambipom since the last appearance of Dawn’s back in the DP era. This Ambipom is voiced by Nanase Nishino, who plays the main character in the Pokemon-themed live action drama Pack Your Pocket With Adventure. It’s also nice to see a Toedscruel too! It seems that the pirate Pokemon are from all different regions. Though, it does make me wonder where this particular episode takes place. Are they still in Galar? Did they leave Galar?

If you noticed, instead of Friede’s seminar, there’s a small short about Terapagos called The Brilliant Terapagos Expedition where the titular Pokemon does cute things. This segment is focusing on its relationship with Sprigatito. Given that there will be three of these, I’m assuming the last two will be focused on the other two Paldean Starters. I can’t wait to see what their interactions will be like.

I think I’ll end my review here since there isn’t really much more to talk about; it was a very straightforward episode. I’m actually digging the Lapras’s hardened appearance with the scars and damaged shell. What about you? What are your thoughts on Lapras and the episode in general?

#pokemon horizons #anipoke #liko #sprigatito #terapagos #roy #fuecoco #friede #captain pikachu #orla #mollie #murdock #diana #dot #quaxly #ludlow #review #anime #anime review #lapras #ambipom #toedscruel #ecargmura #arum journal

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: Napoleon

Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette married historical characters to contemporary pop music and behavior to present a Marie modern audiences could empathize with. The first scene in Ridley Scott’s Napoleon features her beheading, presented in gruesome spectacle in front of a bloodlust-filled crowd. It is indicative of the kind of movie Scott has made. Whereas Coppola was subtle, Scott will be extreme. It is, perhaps, the difference in a historical picture directed by a woman and one directed by a man. The important difference, though, is not gender but the fact that Scott does not pull it off. His touches of the modern day seem salacious rather than sympathetic, and his lead character never gets into our hearts.

Let us start by admitting that Joaquin Phoenix is one of the great actors of our time, and then let us further admit that he is miscast in this role. Scott and screenwriter David Scarpa, who also wrote for Scott another hidebound, powerful man in All The Money in the World, seem to want to focus on Bonaparte’s fraught relationship with his eventually-former Empress Josephine as much as, if not more than, his military victories. When battles begin, Phoenix is adequate. When he must court Josephine, or seem like a warm and loving husband, the script fails him and he fails the script. He finds some small strengths in Napoleon’s debaucheries. He is portrayed as a glutton and a poor-but-insistent lover, furiously humping an indifferent Josephine and indulging in food and drink on the premise that destiny meant him to enjoy the finer things. Outside of these moments his performance is cold and wooden.

Saving the movie from a character perspective is Vanessa Kirby. She portrays Josephine as a woman with intelligence, cunning and passions she must fulfill. Like Kirsten Dunst’s Marie, she is a powerful female personality trapped by an era that has little to do with strong women, or indeed any woman. Look at Kirby’s eyes when Josephine is freshly released from prison and meets Napoleon, her hair slashed into a spiky pixie cut that menaces with its sharpness and her every word a bullet. She has been some places and seen some things, a fact she insists the general accept if they are to wed. Pulling a Basic Instinct, she shows Napoleon exactly what she has to offer under the hood, and it’s clear she holds all the power here.

Eventually she is exiled from the court because she cannot produce an heir. In her gilded confinement, Kirby summons notes of wistfulness and melancholy that were not required in Josephine’s days of power. Witness her reception of Napoleon’s son by his new wife. She goes from icy to maternal and Kirby’s face slowly catches up. She can handle anything Scott demands of her, and in a just world the planned four-hour director’s cut will focus mostly on expanding her character.

The battle scenes are unafraid to spill blood, and it’s here that Scott’s movie finally comes alive. Whether it’s Napoleon ordering his troops to fire on unarmed loyalists or his final stand at Waterloo, early 19th century warfare was chaotic, personal and gory, and Dariusz Wolski’s camerawork paired with incredible special affects, props and what looks like hundreds of extras recreate this to such detail that at several points I gulped nervously at the carnage on display. Unlike other aspects of the movie, it never feels like Scott has gone too far. We need to know this feeling. Portraying these battles as glorious and honorable would have been all wrong. A battle on a frozen lake is one of the great setpieces in modern film history.

Indeed, these battles lead to the film’s biggest question: what does the director think of his subject? He portrays him as a buffoon who lucked and needled his way into power, and at the end of the film he takes special care to highlight the sheer number of people who died in Napoleon’s military campaigns. It is clear he has an opinion, but he keeps it at arm’s length, contributing further to a film that is already chilly and impersonal. That director’s cut may fix some of the issues present, such as the rushed story in which it is hard to connect any one event to any other. It is instead a series of isolated episodes, moving forward suddenly years at a time, skipping straight from conversation to carnage, leaving us little to hold onto.

Verdict: Average

Note: I don’t use star ratings. Here are my possible verdicts:

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid Like the Plague

#joaquin phoenix #vanessa kirby #movies #history #napoleon #france #england #russia

[kurnutus86]

"music" "review"

So I guess I'm a glutton for punishment and had a listen to the second Discharge album. Yeah, *that* one. No matter how open eyed and objective I try to be, this music sucks, no way around it. But at least it's hilarious to listen to. That ridiculously loud 80s snare sound, oh man. I saw someone described this album as 'enormous toilet lid slamming in the depths of hell', and I get it now.

[herrlindemann]

Zillo - November 1995

Thanks to Ramjohn for the scans!

Rammstein. A name like a tool. Rammstein. A place in Germany that attracted attention in the late 80s due to a plane crash. Both association points for violence, power and energy. Nouns that also apply to the six-piece Berlin formation Rammstein and their music.

'Herzeleid' is the debut album recently released by Motor Music and dubbed by Clawfinger producer. An album that will turn heads. Press reviews (ranging from 'bull's eye' to 'one-dimensional blood and soil illiterate') either glorifying or condemning ‘Herzeleid’ bear eloquent testimony to the balancing act.

Musically, Rammstein deliver the full threat. They call it 'dance metal' and open a new drawer in the large closet of styles. Massive drums, atmospheric synths and shrill metal guitars give birth to a new monster in the world of crossover. Deeply evil and armed with animal power, these brute sounds pounce on the eardrum and tear it apart like vultures tearing apart carrion. A creation, Rammsteiner Urgewaechs brand, which is unparalleled in the chronicles of music history. Technically perfectly performed, without reason to complain. However, this begins with the sound of the song. But more on that later.

The three band members present during the interview wish to remain anonymous: "Just write Rammstein. We don't do a personality cult. Although our personal opinions are very different, we try to represent a unified opinion to the outside world. “

Originally intended as a project alongside various bands, Rammstein quickly became a sure-fire success: “With this project we quickly realized that we couldn't get away from the kind of music we were making there. In addition, the fact that we had back then bonded us very strongly at that time.”

A song on 'Herzeleid' describes the plane crash in Rammstein, but was not decisive for the band's naming. “The name suits our music. The two Ms, that just sounds good: RaMMstein.”

Their words sound good too. If one dissects Rammstein's neologism according to its rhyme content, a high rhyme density quickly emerges. Are your lyrics based on the motto 'Rhyme you or I'll eat you'?

General laughter. Rammstein take refuge in gallows humor and quote their bitterest review: "Blood and peasant illiterates." If they were boxers, they would have taken a hard right now. But Rammstein can handle criticism: “It's good that opinions differ so much. You have to be able to live with that. We like the lyrics, we think they're really good and we work on them for a long time, we can't get them any better.”

One can certainly blame them for the fact that their texts, viewed superficially ('the head, I cut it off'), appear bold and glorify violence. And this at a time when the former Yugoslavia has been at war for years. Could they, with a clear conscience, recite their lyrics to an audience composed of people who escaped the turmoil of war?

“You are not only allowed to see individual quotes. Head off is violent, of course, but it depends on how you wrap it. We made the music that suits our current feelings. We're not at war, and I don't know how music affects people who are at war. It's like when a glutton guy throws a sandwich in the bin and another guy says you can send it to Africa. In the end he's right, but somehow he's not. We don't want to be heard and immediately forgotten. We want to make lyrics that you can't just ignore.”

The biggest sticking point in the otherwise quite promising overall concept is certainly the singing. Intoned in a deep, deep, deep voice in rap and loaded with plenty of nasty rumbling, rolling RRRRs, Rammstein quickly pushes the boundaries of embarrassment. In this respect, parallels to Laibach can quickly be drawn without wanting to associate Rammstein with the disreputable aura that surrounds Laibach.

“Certainly there are certain similarities,” affirm Rammstein. “But our singer can only sing deeply,” they deny any intention. “We want him to sing more tunes. But you can only do what is currently possible. Maybe the third record will be better.”

The revealing poses in the photos also seem a bit exaggerated. Are the Chippendales of music?

“We are the Heavy Metal Chippendales”, Rammstein show their humorous side. Nevertheless, macho allegations could arise. How do you see your male role?

“We are men. Many men have many difficulties with our kind of masculinity. Women who see us have fewer problems with it, they like it. We have a strong response from women. We're just trying to be natural, in a masculine sense, because we're men and not women.”

Rammstein — a band that will not only get the newspapers moving.

#Rammstein #Till Lindemann #Paul Landers #Flake #Christoph Schneider #Oliver Riedel #Richard Kruspe #1995 #*scans #intervie #translation #*

[longlivetheinquisition]

Fourth Wing review - spoiler free

I said I wasn't going to start this until the series finished but I fucked that one up. If the series ends at 3 or 5 or never, I'm not mad I started. I'm just mad I threw my Kindle at chapter 35.

For the record, I am a romantasy glutton. I've also had coworkers saying they knew I'd get obsessed with it and congrats you two, y'all were right.

I started this book on a friday and finished it saturday. I did absolutely nothing since picking this book up.

I only have a couple minor criticisms, but ultimately its expected gripes for me to have. Because of course, the FMC has to be super extra special on top of the immediately established special. I also hate to say I predicted a few of the bombs dropped in this book, but it clearly didn't take away from my experience.

Now onto screaming this book's praises, because I really loved this book. I haven't had a book keep me up that late since the Divine Rivals duology (which you should also be reading). The side characters in particular took my heart. Xaden and Violet are fine and all, but the side characters? *chefs kiss*

The spice is there, the story is fantastic, and I love the dragons so much. Dear god though, the fucking cliffhangers!

4.5/5

#fourth wing #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #basgiath war college #booklr #book review #book recommendations #romantasy

[scorchieart]

Lot of the Leopard | AO3

Genre: Comedy

Characters: Clavis Lelouch

Summary: Whatever you do, do NOT leave Clavis alone in the faction office. Especially on a boring summer day.

Word Count: ~2300

A/N: A request from @queengiuliettafirstlady for the prompt: a Belle who likes jokes and pranks as much as our favorite third prince. Thank you for fanning the flames for this fool, Julie!

Today is very boring. It is a very boring day. It is a day without joy. It is a day without play. It is a day without laughter in every which way.

Clavis sucked the tip of his quill for so long he was certain he’d rid the nib of decades-old dried ink. Though the gilded stones and metals of Chevalier’s cherished chair glinted opulently under the noonday sun, the wooden legs creaked disconcertedly as Clavis rocked back and forth in a lazy rhythm, his legs propped atop the grand desk in front of him. He padded the sweat building on his brow before flipping over the document in his free hand, barely digesting the proposal he was supposedly reviewing.

It is a day without the fox, off perusing the gray. It is a day without the bear, napping under hay. It is a day without the tiger, on duty far away. So the leopard is left alone, and someone must pay.

When he finally gave up making sense of the words, he chomped down on the quill neck to keep it in place and crumpled the page in his hands. Then he winded his arm and tossed the paper ball to the wastebasket on the far end of the room. The ball landed on the rim of the basket, teetered on the edge for a moment, then fell unceremoniously to the ground, joining the dozens of other discarded decrees and reports.

Sore from all that reading, Clavis rested his neck on the top of the chair and leaned his head backwards to look out the great windows towering behind him. The glittering summer sun mercilessly beat down on his face, but since he’d been cooped up in the office since dawn he welcomed the tingling sensation it offered. He could do without the perspiration though. Maybe if he could open the windows up more than the measly crack Chevalier allowed he could catch a whiff of a breeze. But alas, the threat of incoming arrows was a greater risk than heatstroke.

He locked the quill in his front teeth, bobbing it up and down as he contemplated all the things he would rather be doing than paperwork. And quite the long list it was. He would rather peel globs of honey out of a gluttonous Luke’s hair barehanded. He would rather listen to Jin present his thesis on the true merits of the female body with tape over his mouth. He would rather endure hours of Sariel’s lectures about decorum sitting on a bed of needles. He would rather refill every pitfall he ever dug in his life.

He would rather sift through the twins’ baby portraits and pick out who was who for thralls of overcurious doddering nobles. He would rather have Yves nag his ear off over what an embarrassment to the royal family he was. He would rather clean and organize Leon’s faction’s office top to bottom. He would rather hang out with Chevalier reading books in his library.…

The nib snapped as Clavis bit down hard in frustration. Okay, he wasn’t that bored. The heat and the solitude were just sending his mind to places it never ventures when sane.

Today is still boring. It’s still a very boring day. But his mind is running ahead to what his mouth would never say

He spit out the quill and examined the tip. As he suspected, the nib split in two vertically along the seam, like the perfect parting of a pear. He sniffed and ran the feathered end side-to-side under his nose, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction to brighten his mood. Maybe a giggle from a tickle? Or a sneeze to make him freeze? Nope, nothing but bits of dried snot sticking to soft plumage. Gross. He almost chucked the darn thing to join the paper balls when remembered it was a piece of Chevalier’s stationery collection. It wasn’t its fault; anything even remotely related to Chevalier was doomed to an insipid ho-hum existence.

Well, anything except Clavis, of course. Although you’d be forgiven if all you saw of him was from today.

He lowered his legs and tilted the chair back upright, then leaned over the desk to rest his chin on one arm while he listlessly tapped the uneven tip with the other. Ta-tap ta-tap ta-tap. The mangled beat offered some distraction from his perpetual ennui, but his bustling mind still sprinted planes ahead with longing for entertainment and intrigue. 

Truly, what he yearned for most was a break from his boredom. A bit of spice to sprinkle the stale. A jumpstart to jest. But with his fellow faction members all preoccupied for the day, the burden lay on Clavis to hold down the fort until whenever they decided to return. This wasn’t the first time he’d been left behind, but it certainly stung more than the others. Rhodolite now teetered on the precipice of collapse, and Clavis wanted nothing more than to stand atop the cliff and watch it fall.

Or balance itself up again. He wasn’t picky on the details, so long as he could claim he was a major player in the action and got a good laugh out of it by the end. But he’d get nary a chuckle trapped behind this accursed desk at this rate!

Clavis sighed, ceased his tapping, and picked another paper from the neverending pile beside him. There was still a full month for the Belle Selection to run its course, surely he’d find his golden opportunity another day. 

Buzz buzz buzz!

But today was not that day, it would seem. Just as it were, the windows could prevent an incoming human attack, but failed against the might of bug intrusion. 

He can confound the masses, solace quick to slay. He can survive the Brutal Beast, a quitter he is nay. He can wipe out an army, watch the bloodline spray. But a pesky whizzing fly? He cannot keep at bay.

Clavis whipped his head around and swatted his hands in every direction, not caring in the slightest whenever he accidentally smacked his face in the process. The fly persisted its pilot prancing, hopping from Clavis’s head to his elbow to skipping across the assorted materials and tchotchkes neatly lined up atop Chevalier’s enormous desk. Clavis retrieved the broken quill and proceeded to jab at wherever the pesky fly made its perch. 

Stab! A delicate tea set knocked over, smashed to hundreds of puny porcelain pieces.

Pierce! An ink bottle impaled, spilling black across the once-luxurious wood grain.

Thrust! The remaining pile of documents fluttered through the air, floating down like gigantic rectangular rose petals.

Squish!

…Uh-oh.

Oh… no no no…

Clavis slowly lifted the quill from where it skewered the poor fly. Beneath the splattered remains of goopy green innards a noticeable nick poked its head. He frantically rubbed away at the buggy gore, hoping it was just his mind playing tricks, but to no avail. A jagged chip the size of his fingernail jutted out from the center of the grand desk, and suddenly Clavis didn’t feel so warm anymore.

Today is very boring. It is a very boring day. But the leopard prayed it would remain boring anyway.

“Oh, bother,” he whispered to the fly carcass. What was left to make out of it, anyway. A battered wing and a couple of mangled legs. Or were those antennas? He shuddered and slumped back in the chair, shutting his eyes and pressing his temple in thought. Why, oh why did Chevalier always leave his belongings so vulnerable? He never left his room locked, present or otherwise. He left his office easy pickings for insipid invading insects. And he left Clavis alone to face off against boredom in an arena of at-risk artifacts.

Yes, that was the story he was going with. It was Chevalier’s fault, just like everything else. That’s the fate of the leader, isn’t it? To take the fall for his followers? To claim responsibility for the shortcomings of his lackeys? 

Oh, that wouldn’t do either. It made his skin crawl to ever suggest he was a mere lackey of Chevalier, even if he was stuck inside picking up his paperwork. Call him Paperwork Prince, the bane of sophisticated stationery and fancy furniture across the lands. How positively preposterous. He was the Third Prince of Rhodolite, the awe of children and adults alike. Scourge of the stuffy and savior of the spirited. The reason you checked twice you locked your door at night. The recipient of the sprightliest shrieks ever uttered by man. Not quite an Aaaaaah! of terror, nor a Gyooooh! of panic, but something perfectly in between. Something like—

“Aaagyouyeeeehhhh!!”

Yes, something like that.

…Wait.

“Prince Clavis, I will drown you in a vat of honey when I get my hands on you!”

“No! That would be such a waste!”

Clavis jumped off the chair and hurried to the window. On the cobblestone walkway leading to the grounds stood a now-awake Luke and a fuming Yves stamping his feet on the ground beneath a rose archway. But even under the scorching summer sun, Yves’s fair hair seemed to glow more brilliantly than usual. Sparkling, as though the honey-blondeness was enchanted.

“Stop that, Luke! You’ll pull my hair out!” screeched Yves, swatting Luke away.

“Well, we gotta salvage as much of it as we can before it’s all ruined. Stand still, will ya?” Luke hovered over Yves’s head, scooping globs of gold and shoveling what he could into his mouth. 

“Cut that out! This is highly undigni— Whaa!”

Backing up, Yves tripped and fell on the path, Luke tumbling down after him. Like a chain reaction, bunches of rose petals and feathers descended upon the pair, sticking to them like a flurry of multi-colored snowfall. 

“Oh, please try pulling them off,” Clavis begged from his perch, nose glued so firmly to the glass it started fogging up with his breath.

Yves desperately tried plucking the scraps away, but all that achieved was more of the flittering pieces sticking onto him. Luke sat up and tried to help, only to find himself unable to pry his fingers off Yves’s coat. Several guards finally began to take notice of the commotion and hurried over, only to slip and slide the moment they set foot off the grass and onto the stone path. Clavis counted thirteen unlucky soldiers meeting their doom before the others finally wisened up and backed off.

“Prince Clavis!” a new voice roared, and Clavis steered his gaze all around to locate the stodgy Sariel. He finally found him bounding up from the castle gate, whip crackling and head steaming. Clavis gulped a heap of air ready to call out to him, but deflated when he saw a second figure trailing behind the minister.

Clavis stepped back and quickly wiped the condensation off the window before pressing his cheek on the glass again. Just as he thought, it was Belle walking up beside Sariel, looking every bit as perfect and innocent as her title claimed. But Clavis made a living out of feigning appearances on this battleground, it was his life’s work, so there was no chance he’d miss the wayward petals and feathers that dusted off her dress. Nor the honey jar barely peeking out from her pocket. Nor the vials of slippery cleaning solution she surreptitiously stuffed into her sleeves.

He trained his eye for a while longer as she and Sariel approached the wreckage and called out to the distressed victims. Sariel stopped just before the slick stone path and warily contemplated his options. Taking her chance, Belle sneakily extended her foot and lightly kicked the back of Sariel’s knee, sending him tumbling face first onto the walkway and sliding up to join the other casualties. Those soldiers had just started to stand up again, and Sariel knocked them down as brilliantly as a bunch of bowling pins. The onlookers all looked bemused at Sariel’s blunder, all except Belle who daintily hid her laughing face behind a perfectly positioned palm.

And then Clavis was laughing too. He was wheezing. Hollering. Howling so freely the window scene fogged up again in an instant. He peeled his face off the glass and grabbed at his stomach, squeezing tighter and tighter for fear he’d vomit out of glee. When at last he could stand again without wobbling, he turned back to the desk, raised his leg, and in one clean motion swept it across the surface, sending all that remained flying down the floor. Then he picked up the broken quill and jabbed it straight into the table just beside the first hole. Then he did it again. And again. And again.

Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!

He kept stabbing and stabbing, digging out chunks of wood and splinters from the desk until he completed a full circle. Then he ripped open a drawer and extracted a second quill, this one still untarnished, and proceeded to stab some more, drilling two smaller circles side-by-side in the center of the first. 

Sta-stab! Sta-stab! Sta-stab!

When he was satisfied with the mini craters, he buried the nibs into both ends of the equator of the first circle and carved an inverted arcline that joined at the bottom. He straightened his back to admire his work, a deranged smiley face beaming back up at him for a job well done. Lastly, he gave a final jab just beneath the right end of the mouth. An adorable mole for the adorable masterpiece from the adorable little brother.

Clavis tossed the quills aside and trampled across the broken porcelain and papers toward the door, positively giddy with delight at the prospect of meeting Belle again. He gave one last look at the ransacked shambles of the office as he twisted the knob and let out a dreamy sigh. 

Truly, this was a boring day. But it was one he would not trade for the world.

Two weeks to go!

The premise of this fic was inspired by the poem "Today is Very Boring" by Jack Prelutsky. Give it a read if you have time, it's very short :)

Tagging: @atelieredux @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus (if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message)

Divider credits: @delishlydelightfuldividers

#ikemen prince #ikepri #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis #scorchie writes #comedy #countdown to clavis

[imaginemyreality03]

🐉⚡️The only way you win a fight is to know you’re going to be hit and survive⚡️🐉

🛑🙉SPOILERS AHEAD🙉🛑

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

Read: February 14 -> February 18, 2024

BRA Score: 98/100

Favorite Quote: “ ‘I can’t kill an unconscious man.’ ‘He would kill you if given the same chance.’ ‘That’s a statement of his character, not mine.’”- Violet & Tairn, Pg 167

~~~~~~~~

Book Gist: Violet is forced by her mother to join the most deadly speciality in Basgaith War College: Dragon Riding. For the sake of her general mother or her chronically ill body, almost every other rider wants her dead. She just wants to survive. So imagine when she bonds with not one but BOTH of the most powerful dragons in the year (and in the nation) which leaves her permanently tethered to the guy who should most want her dead.

Tags: Fantasy, Enemies to Lovers, Dragonriders, Smut, Violence 😏, Cliffhanger-ish.

~~~~~~~~

Overall review:

Plot:

Whores on dragons. Also, I had like, 98% accuracy for every major plot point, and knowing about Brennan (that I spoiled myself of when I was checking the page count before I started) didn’t inform any of it. Because, when is an insurrection just an insurrection?

Cast:

I feel very protective of the Marked Ones for many reasons but I wish they had someone who had the capacity to be emotional with them, because their “big siblings” have so much on their plate just trying to keep them alive, there isn’t much space for dealing with that stuff. This is probably also why I know Xaden was not capable of the things everyone else assumed of him. Also, for the same reason Dain brushed me the wrong way.

Basgiath really fucks these kids up, in every horrible way. In a brain-washing kind of way. This was always gonna be emotionally hard to read, but it really does read like the most complex 2010s-era dystopia and I am in fact a glutton for punishment.

And I do say my idea of Melgren being a venin still isn’t wrong because he’s protecting them, that’s what he’s doing, but doing nothing. That still counts for me.

Violet:

AND the key to this whole entire thing is actually hinging on the fact that Violet is a Scribe who became a rider. It’s the one thing that’s never happened before, the one thing that can challenge the power of the riders is the history that defines them, the proof of their corruption.

End Note:

Amended 3-27-24: I’ve read 70% of Iron Flame, but I am in a very precarious place of being somewhat content and not afraid of what happens next in the place I’ve paused, and I have a bad feeling that this book with end in a cliffhanger, and I need to be within 3 months of release of book 3 before I subject myself to torture. Seeing as being in a 3 month range of Onyx Storm won’t be until November, I will be over in the corner trying my fam nest to forget everything I know so that I’m no tempted to read more and hurt myself with 10 MONTHS OF WAITING LEFT!!!!! I don’t know how you publish the first two books with 6 months of each other, then wait 4 months to even confirm that a third book exists, and then wait 10 more months to release it.

Additional End Note: Bohdi is my baby love and I will kill for him and die for him, so we all best be sure he isn’t dead by the end of Onyx Storm or I’ll riot.

#fourth wing #rebecca yarros #book review #book rating #booklr #fantasy #enemies to lovers

[eggluttony]

Hi love ur stuff <3 what's ur fave fat fantasy w eggman

Thank you so much, I'm really happy you do 💜 Oh man hard to answer as I have thousands, I cycle through ones to fixate most. guess I'll share my current favorite fat/wg concept as the one I've been thinking about most lately

The thought of being with Eggman and always encouraging him to eat to his maximum capacity as often as possible. he always eats loads and such is obvious by the size of his belly, his intake is already huge. But prior to meeting him, it'd be much more occasional for him to really overeat even by his standards, to the point of being unable to eat another bite and having a tummy ache.

But now he's ending up laying back on the bed with a huge stuffed bulging full tummy nightly, panting for breaths and groaning as he cutely pleads for belly rubs, a deep blush in his cheeks for letting true greed take over again. He keeps accepting all food he's given between meals and his belly ends up two times bigger and more swollen going to sleep then when he wakes up.

Sometimes even when groaning about how much he overate in bed, I manage to feed him one last plate of cookies and milk, rubbing his poor gurgling overstuffed belly as we get the rest down there. he grumbles and I say "if you think it's too much, why are you still accepting and chewing hm?" and he gets so embarrassed for being so uncontrollably gluttonous that he steal keeps eating.

After that, he's huffing and breathlessly whimpering "If I keep eating like this, I'm going to get huge..." and with the way I look at him he's like "Ugh but you'd like that, wouldn't you, you bad influence..." and I just give him a sly smirk. I know I'm not the only one of the two of us. I just tell him it's time for his belly rubs and to get him to bed because he has another big day of eating to do tomorrow!

Fast forward to him being emperor of the world and he's absolutely enormous. like 600 lbs and counting, maybe more if we wanna go super extreme. He overate like that far too many times and once he'd succeeded in his goals and became ruler of everything, nobody could stop him and he went off the deep end and really let himself go and become the gluttonous blob he was meant to be.

Now that he no longer has to work to stop Sonic and take over the world, the only thing that was holding him back, he can just lounge around in luxury, be well pampered and just eat everything he wants, to his heart's content. All the food in the world belongs to him now and he absolutely engorges himself with huge feasts everyday and keeps growing and growing with no signs of stopping.

What looks like a huge swollen bulging tummy back when we first met looks so small compared to what he is now. A huge giant flabby doughy belly with tons of thick soft rolls, which spills out so wide and hangs low as much as it proceeds him. He has a pudgy round fattened face of multiple chins and pillowy arms and legs to match. He's so big and cozy, this is the bliss that an emperor should feel.

By now he's become very used to being overstuffed. If his stomach isn't bulging full to the limit, he doesn't consider himself full enough. A daily requirement met with huge feasts fit for the emperor he is. it's rare that he isn't seen eating, even when he does bring himself to come out and assess how things are in the empire and review new work and developments, he's eating all the while.

Though on some days he does manage to overdo it, even by his incredibly high standards now. And it takes a serious amount by now, considering how long it takes just to fill him up a normal amount daily now. But sometimes on an especially gluttonous, greedy, celebratory day, he may go even bigger with it. and he ends up lay back in his much bigger bed than back in the day

But he's still groaning about the immense overfullness, just like back then. It's cute thinking of how much smaller his belly was when he was complaining of an overstuffed stomach then. He's like five times bigger and more stuffed today. He doesn't often take conscious note of it but sometimes it does finally hit him and he says "Man, I got so fucking huge, what have I done to myself?"

Despite the way he words it, he clearly isn't very upset about it. Not with the way he moans and sighs with a big smile on his face and hidden under the piles of fat is his hard leaking cock when I rub his belly or grab the doughy rolls and shake them to jiggle his huge belly. He loves being a big pampered fattened up emperor, so cozy, spoiled, worshipped, and overfed well fed.

"See? We both love how huge you've gotten." I say, thinking back to what he said back then as he giggles while having his huge belly played with. He remembers and admits "Yeah, you're right, this is how it's meant to be." And I say "That's right, you were supposed to give in and become the greedy gluttonous fatty emperor you were born to be, it's the luxury you deserve~"

I always love feeding him in every way, giving him everything he wants. Helping him get as much as those huge feasts into his enormous belly as possible. It almost becomes my new main job as member of the empire and I'm certainly not complaining, I love helping to maintain or rather increase his perfect big fat emperor image. He can't fit on his throne anymore but he's still important!

I also like to try to push him to eat even more than he can handle even in this huge fattened state with his near limitless seeming capacity. But I find it and he's gasping and panting and groaning and how much of a fatty he's become really sets in with the big tummy ache deep under the rolls and layers of fat. He's whining "Ohh I'm so massive, how did I let myself get so huge?"

I love the sound of his moans when giving it rubs to soothe and comfort him and the way that even his massive soft jiggly belly feels firmer because he's so stuffed. He says "Do you think I went too far? Do you think I let myself get a little bit too fat? I mean you remember how I looked, an active strong egg shaped man. Now I'm just like... a massive pile of lard." He blushes so hard admitting it.

But looking at him with his cute fattened face of big round pudgy cheeks, fat heavy jiggly tits, a massive soft belly spilling out all around him, and his thick wobbly ass and knowing I helped too, I just think he's so cute and sexy. I say "No of course not, silly! You look so gorgeous and exactly how the big pampered emperor of the world should look! You're the best and most important so you need to eat and look like it too!"

"In fact, I think you need to look bigger to really help send the message." A robot rolls in a huge table of yet another huge feast, one for him to eat in bed like a real lazy spoiled fatty. I sent the secret order for a whole other meal as him saying that just made me want to feed him more. "Now stop worrying and eat up, you know you want to~" I say as I give him his next dish of many more that night.

At first he's alarmed and doesn't think he can handle another whole feast in this state! But it all smells so good and looks so tasty and if he doesn't eat up now, it will all be cold and they'll be too many leftovers and he can have his precious yummy food go to waste... So he opens his greedy mouth for more and allows himself to be fed even more despite moaning and feeling he might burst.

He allows himself to be stuffed with as much of a whole new huge feast as he can despite being so stuffed already, until he's so full it all weighs heavy in his firm swollen gut and he has to lay there and relax, waiting for digestion. He's the biggest fattest, and fullest he's felt in his life now, belching and moaning as I help him cum as a reward before he slips into a very content food coma 💕

And then of course everything else about what the life that living as a big fat emperor entails adds even more fun to the huge fat emperor fantasy, that I wrote about more in depth in this post. It keeps making me feel so weak thinking about it 💘

#asks #weight gain #modern #stuffing #extremely obese egg