#the urge to develop a bit more is real

[nocturnalazure]

Random Line WIP

Share a random line of text from your current WIP or a line or two of dialogue from one of your characters. Do not give any explanation or context, and see what your followers think. Then, tag a few friends to keep the randomness going.

"Bye, love."

Tagging @kimmiessimmies, @bool-prop, @wannabecatwriter, @greenplumbboblover, @gaiahypothesims and @unsimspirational

#tagged #sims 3 stories #random #random wip line #i know this is terribly short #but those two words are incredibly meaningful #the urge to develop a bit more is real #i'll abide by the rules and shut my mouth

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: small penis humiliation

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

"Do you… Do you have any weird kinks? That you haven't told me about?"

Han Jisung. What a way to pique my interest, you thought. You put your book down on the bed beside you, looking over at him with intrigue. He was avoiding your gaze, hands fidgeting. Oh, he had something to confess.

"I'm not sure, Sungie. Nothing major, nothing that you don't already know about, at least." You were very open with him about your desires, and he knew this.

"Oh," he murmured, with a nod. "Okay."

So, he would take a bit more prompting. "Why do you ask? Do you have anything?" You waited for a moment, but he remained silent. You prodded him in the side, urging him to answer. "Is it something embarrassing?"

"No!" he blurted. "Well, kinda."

You shifted closer to him, leaning into his side. "You know I'm not gonna judge you. C'mon, tell me."

He sighed, covering his face with his hands. "Have you ever heard of, like… small dick humiliation?"

Now this was an interesting development.

Obviously, Jisung's dick was far from small. It was always enough to satisfy you, and he had plenty of enthusiasm with how he used it too. But you were more than willing to pretend, for his gratification.

"You're into that?" you asked, brain whirring as you thought of all the possibilities. "You want me to berate you for having a small dick?"

Jisung peered up at you, nodding slowly. He looked so vulnerable, after sharing this with you. He was putting all of his trust in you, to hold this information and degrade him while still respecting him.

You let out a sigh, relaxing your shoulders. "I'm so glad you told me about that, Sungie, that's actually such a relief. This whole time I've been pretending that your little dick actually gets me off, and now I don't have to pretend any more."

Jisung stared at you, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise. His eyes scoured your expression, trying to figure out how genuine this was. "Are you just saying this to get me off? Or are you being for real?"

You frowned at him. "Take a look in your pants, babe. Does that look big enough to satisfy anyone?"

He lifted his waistband, looking down. "I d-don't know," he stammered.

"Do you want to find out?" You patted his cheek gently. "Fuck me, and I won't fake it this time."

Already, he was hanging on your every word. His eyes had gotten that sparkly, glossed-over look that you loved so much, the one that made him look so fucked-out before you'd even touched him.

"I'll fuck you - I-I can fuck you, I'll do a good job, I'll show you-" He was pulling off his clothes as he spoke, tearing off his shirt before tugging down his trousers.

You fought hard not to smile when you saw his dick - it was your honest reaction, every time. You loved your man, and you loved his dick. Long, thick, veiny, hairy, everything you'd want in a cock. His dick was what you dreamed about at night, it was your medicine at the end of a long day. This was really going to test your acting abilities.

You kneeled on the floor before him, in between his legs. "Is it even hard?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked down at his dick, twitching and hardening more by the second. "I can't really tell, it's still so small."

"No, it's not hard all the way yet! It can get bigger, I swear!" he insisted, stroking his shaft with fervour, as though desperately trying to get it harder. He didn't have to try very hard, of course; just a tiny sprinkling of humiliation was enough to make him rock hard within seconds.

"That's it?" you asked, putting on a disgusted expression. "It's hard now?"

Jisung nodded silently, cheeks bright red.

You tutted. "I bet Minho's dick is bigger than this. I look at the bulge in his trousers sometimes, just to imagine what it's like to be fucked by a real man."

"I'm a real man!" Jisung yelled out immediately, spurred on by the comparison to one of his best friends. "I can fuck you like a man, p-promise I can!"

You climbed onto the bed, laying back and stripping your shorts from your body. "C'mon then, let's get this over with. Just fuck me, I don't need any prep. Not for that tiny thing."

Not that you were going to tell him, but the reason you needed no prep was because the startled, submissive look on his face was more than enough to make you wet.

He positioned himself between your legs. You grimaced as you stared at his cock, the tip bumping against your pussy. You scoffed."It's barely a clitoris! I bet I could fuck you with my clit and it'd feel better than this."

It was comical, really - his dick was so clearly massive, and it was so obviously going to stretch your hole like crazy. Yet when you looked into his eyes and insulted his size, he looked back at you completely overwhelmed with arousal.

Jisung whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your hole. "Please, please, I know I'm pathetic, but please can I fuck you?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "Go ahead, I don't care - I'm not gonna feel anything anyways."

He let out a groan, sliding his cock into you right away, babbling, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

His eyes slipped shut, and it was a good job, as he would've witnessed the expression of pure bliss on your face as he filled you up.

Jisung never took it slow, and tonight was no exception. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he fucked you, hard and fast. You had to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from squealing; with every harsh thrust, he was sending shocks throughout your system, making butterflies erupt in the pit of your abdomen, making you want to cry out in ecstasy.

He was whimpering against your skin. "I'm sorry… 'm sorry I've got such a useless little dick."

"Aww, Sungie," you cooed. "It's not your fault you're so pa- pathetic-"

Your voice was broken, hoarse. Jisung was thankfully too horny to notice any cracks appearing in your facade.

"Are you enjoying this, Jisung?" you asked him.

"Yeah, yes, fuck! So much!" he cried out.

"I'm glad someone is. I can barely feel anything."

He moaned at your words, and the noise was like music to your ears. He sounded so worked up, so desperate.

"Let me see your face, baby," you urged him. "Wanna see how needy you are."

He lifted his head from your neck bravely, propping himself up on his arms while he fucked you. His eyes were wet with tears, a tiny bit of spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, hon, this is pitiful," you said, your tone condescending.

You reached your hands between your bodies, fingers locating his nipples. You squeezed them, not very gently, and he yelped, his reaction a mixture of pleasure and pain. They grew harder beneath your touch as you played with them.

"Look, even your nipples are bigger than this thing you call a dick. How sad is that?"

"So sad," he whined, nodding along with your words. "I'm gonna cum - I'm gonna cum, baby, I can't hold back!"

You laughed at him. "It's barely been five minutes, Jisung! Are you serious?"

He nodded, letting out a strangled groan. "Can I?"

"Sure, cum inside me. We don't need to worry about you getting me pregnant anyways, not with a dick like that-"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jisung moaned in time with his thrusts, before burying his dick deep inside you and collapsing against you, panting heavily. "Baby!"

You stroked his hair gently. "And I'm nowhere near finishing. See, I told you you can't get me off with that shrimp." This was a blatant lie - with just a few more minutes, and maybe some stimulation of your clit, you would've come for sure.

Jisung lifted his head quickly. "I can get you off - I can, I can!" He leapt up, throwing himself down the bed and landing between your legs. He lowered his face into your pussy, and licked a very gentle, tentative line from your hole up to your clit. He was looking up at you with wide eyes, as if waiting for approval.

You nodded at him. "It's a good job you're good at oral, baby. Otherwise I'd have no reason to keep you around, would I?"

In true Jisung fashion, he went from 0 to 100 within an instant, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. He swirled his tongue across it, back and forth, back and forth. There was no way you could hold back your moans, not when he was overstimulating you like this.

"That's good, baby," you praised him, before demeaning him a little more. "Feels way better than your dick did."

He hummed, sending vibrations through your core. He didn't hesitate even for a second, proving his abilities to you with all his might.

He inserted two fingers deep inside you, curling them upwards to meet your g-spot, just the way you'd taught him.

"Oh, baby, those fingers are so much bigger than your dick, that's so nice."

Jisung began to whimper, whining as he licked and sucked everywhere. The desperate noises were your undoing; you felt your climax burst outwards from your core, your legs shaking as they wrapped around Jisung's frame. You could barely see, could barely hear, couldn't feel anything apart from your orgasm.

"Fuck," you hissed. "That was good."

He collapsed against your chest, nuzzling into you. "Was I good?"

"So good, baby," you confirmed, catching your breath. You kissed the top of his head, and he gave a contended hum. The two of you lay together quietly, recovering.

Jisung spoke up again after a few moments, his voice quiet. "My… my dick… it's okay, right?"

"Of course, Sungie, it's more than okay! I love your dick just as much as I love you. It's perfect."

He giggled. "Okay, good. Just wanted to check."

"It gives me everything I need, baby, don't worry about that."

Jisung beamed up at you. "Thank you for doing this for me."

"You're welcome, baby," you smiled back. "I love you."

Jisung picked himself up, nuzzling his nose against yours. "I love you too."

#hyunsvngbinitober ! #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz fic #han jisung smut #han jisung x you #han jisung fic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #han jisung scenarios

[fredwkong]

I was doing some some chores last night and found a dildo in my stepdad's laundry basket. I felt an electric shock when I touched it. On closer inspection it says "Daddy Annihilator" along the side of the shaft. Since then I've had the urge to huff the seat of my stepdad's tight boxer-briefs and slutty compression shorts when I do his laundry. My cock has been getting fatter and longer and I've been developing a strong musk. My horniness is reaching a feral level and I'm starting to worry. I need to stick my greasy, slimy pole in something and breed. What's happening to me?

Sounds like your stepdad messed up a bit. He’s been experimenting with his interest in assplay and subbing, but didn’t realise the effect his favourite toy has on any non-daddies who come in contact with it.

It started with you sniffing his underwear, but that phase only lasts a short time. You’ve already realised that wearing tight boxer-briefs and compression gear makes your dad a subby slut, not a real man. Your simple briefs and jockstraps are a real man’s clothes. Did you always wear those underwear? Doesn’t matter, since they're all you remember wearing.

You’re stretching out the pouch of whatever you wear now with that fat, leaking cock, the exact same size and shape as your stepdad’s Daddy Annihilator. Hair, muscle, and fat quickly spread across your body from your crotch, letting off a thick musk as you sweat through your chores. Before long, any trace of your stepdad’s scent in the house is totally overpowered. After all, he's just a slut for your fat cock.

By the time your stepdad gets home tonight, you’ll have long given up on doing any chores. Real men leave chores to their submissive daddies. You’ll be sitting in his bedroom, airing out your musky feet. When he walks in, all you’ll have to do is grunt at your new sub and daddy will be happy to fuck himself into oblivion on your real life Daddy Annihilator.

If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

#male transformation #mental change #answered ask #muscle tf #male tf #reality change #musk tf #daddy tf #dadson #dom tf #all fwkong

[frantic-fiction]

Frantic-Fiction's Masterlist

Pic: lovelybluebirdie

This is up to date with all my current fics.

Reoccurring Nightmares (GN!Reader, Good!durge)

Summary: A night reveals that maybe the past is not left behind, and maybe old urges have begun again. As people always say healing is never linear.

Happy Birthday (GN!Reader? reader wears a dress)

Prompt: The gang throwing Spawn Astarion and Redeemed Durge a joint birthday party

Secluded Evening 18+ (F!Reader)

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion'sfirst time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Shatter Glass 18+(F!Reader) Pt. 2 of Secluded evening but can be a standalone

Summary: Astarion finally makes do on a promise.

I'll Find My Way Back to You (GN!Reader)

Summary: A century after Tav passes Astarion comes across an artist who is oddly familiar and paints moments that seemed to be pulled straight from Astarion's life.

Reunions (GN!Reader) Pt. 2 of I'll Find My Way Back to You

Summary: A few months after reconnecting to your past life as Tav, a party is set to meet the rest of the group. You're nervous, worried about not living up to who you once were. Will you be enough?

Tease 18+ (F!Reader)

Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.

More Than (gn!reader, curly/long-hair reader)

Summary: In the midst of battle a stray fireball hits you causing damage to your hair. Your hair is part of your identity, losing it seem unimaginable. But it's just hair right?

Payback18+ (F!Reader)

Summary: Astarion goes too far and embarrasses Tav in front of the party. She decides she wants a bit of revenge.

Unexpected (GN!Reader)

Summary: A night of seduction takes an unexpected turn, leaving Astarion to realize just how deep his feelings for Tav have developed.

Lose Yourself 18+ (F!Reader)

Summary: During a feeding Astarion gets worked up and a bit too excited. He's embarrassed, but it turns out Tav finds it incredibly hot.

Hey you (GN!Reader, GN!Tav)

Summary: Young Arabella comes to stay at the camp during the trip through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Her curious questions affect Astarion more than it should.

Tension 18+ (F!Reader)

Summary: During a solo mission, Astarion takes the opportunity to indulge in some "depraved carnal lust".

Request Fic: Jealous (GN!Reader)

Summary: Someone from Astarion's past makes an appearance. She a bit too flirty and the Reader doesn't like it at all.

Request Fic: I Want 18+ (F!Reader)

Summary: While flipping through a book about Vampires Astarion comes across a passage about Dhampirs. It stirs something in him and now that's all he can think about. Now the question is, do you want this just as bad as him?

Requests are open so feel free to send in any ideas if you want.

#astarion x reader #reader insert #bg3 #fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #fanfiction #astarion smut #smut #masterlist #frantic-fiction

[davenporttf]

Bear Trap

Jake was a total dick and he was fine admitting it. He had the body to compensate for his short temper and overall unlikeable personality. He liked to think of himself as a real tradie through and through. He didn't care what the other guys thought of him because he knew he could do the job of three men by himself. When it came to the ladies, he was fine cutting things off after they started getting feelings. "Who hurt you?" the last one said when he broke it off. He smiled and replied "That'd be you for having to listen to you."

The crew had been working on a new apartment complex for a few weeks. The days were long and the middle of summer brought some very hot afternoons. Jake was working on installing a new water pipeline to the complex and removing the debris from all the jackhammering. They had been going at it since 7am and with the sun now beaming over him, he was feeling dehydrated. He forgot to bring his own water and was starting to regret it. He signaled over to the other guys that he was going to take a quick 15, and started walking towards the next door apartments.

Typically the neighbors next to their projects hated seeing them because of all the noise. He would see the dirty looks from the balconies but he would just wave at them to piss them off. Today he was going to play nice though, and beg for some water with a smile and an arm flex.

He went up to the first door and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a loveable bear named Greg answered the door. He filled the door with his sturdy frame, and smiled at Jake. "Can I help you?"

"Hey man, sorry to bother you but I forgot my water today. Could I trouble you for some?" Jake said with the most charming smile he could manage.

"Yeah, of course! Why don't you come in and cool off and I'll grab you some water. I have the AC on." Greg offered kindly.

Jake was not about to pass up some free AC despite his reservations. "Yeah sure. Thanks, man." He entered the studio apartment looking around at Greg's very tidy apartment. "Have a seat on the couch, I'll grab you something to drink" Greg said as he walked to his kitchen.

Jake continued to look around and noticed some of the pride flags posted around the living room. "Awe fuck, a fag. Just great." he thought to himself as he took a seat on the sofa. He didn't like how all the gay guys looked him up and down. He worked hard to look good for the ladies, and felt uncomfortable when men shot glances his way. He had the urge to leave but the AC was feeling great against his skin, so he shoved his disdain to the side.

Greg could sense the hatred from Jake, and his overall douchebag demeanor. He had seen him for a few days now arguing with his coworkers and catcalling the women walking by. He didn't like the ripped guys, and tended to go for bears like himself. He had been living alone for a few years and with the rent about to go up due to the complex being built nextdoor, he was struggling. He didn't have an extra room to split with a roommate, and he wasn't having much luck in the boyfriend department. In the kitchen, Greg came up with an idea to fix his problem. He pulled out a bottle of water from the back of the fridge that he bought from a specialty store he frequented.

Greg walked back into the room and handed Jake the bottle of water. "Here ya go! Feel free to enjoy the air for a bit. You guys really seem to be working hard out there." Jake didn't waste a moment, and started chugging the water. The water tickled going down his throat and the water tasted so refreshing. He continued to chug the water as a bubbly feeling developed in his abdomen. Gurgles began to become audible as his stomach started to expand outward. Jake could feel his waistline pushing out against his jeans becoming more uncomfortable by the second. The water was too refreshing to stop so with his other hand he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to make room. Jake's pecs softened and inflated, losing definition. His arms became heavier with his biceps growing more doughy. His face rounded and lost it's definition with his chinstrap widening to a full beard.

With one hand on his belly rubbing it for comfort, Jake finished the bottle and looked around at his new form. He wanted to be disgusted with himself but his grip on his prior life was slipping away. He was liking the way he felt more powerful by his size and ran his hands all over. He looked around at the apartment feeling more at home.

"You look good handsome." Greg complimented as Jake looked up at him. Jake could feel himself growing attracted to Greg, especially his handsome features. Memories of them meeting out by the construction yard surfaced. He was always on the heavier side and the crew loved how strong he was moving around the debris. Greg had walked by one day and he couldn't help but catcall him. Luckily, Greg was flattered and found Jake extremely attractive sweating in the hot sun. Moving in together was the greatest thing to happen to him, and it helped that they could split the rent.

Jake started to paw at the bulge in his briefs, thinking of how sexy his boyfriend was. "What's say we cool off more in the shower?" Jake said devilishly. He got up and walked over to Greg adjusting to his newfound size. He took Greg by the hand and lead him into the bathroom for some much needed fun.

#gay tf #mental change #straight to gay #gay bear #male transformation #daddy bear #tradie #blue collar #construction worker #belly gainer #gay gainer

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you have any recommendations for games in the western genre? Or western fantasy/sci-fi? Absolutely can’t get enough of the combination of cowboys and six shooters, steampunk, and magic fantasy. I’m considering writing my own setting for DnD5E that combines these elements.

Theme: Fantastic Westerns

Friend, I think I've collected a real tight bunch of winners here, so I'm confident you'll find something that really scratches that itch you've got!

Wicked West, by Finch Edmund.

Wicked West is a PbtA game by Finch Edmund (they/them) about paranormal cowboys. It combines classic monsters with the backdrop of the old west and is meant to be played with at least two players with one player taking the role of Game Master. Wicked West is made to tell stories similar to the westerns of the 1940s-1960s about small towns and the struggles of life with a horror twist.

If you like combining monsters with your westerns, this is the game for you. It looks like you combine a couple of different options to make your character playbook, which is something I’m personally pretty jazzed about when it comes to creating characters. One interesting thing about Wicked West is the relationship your cowboy has with their horse: a vampire might feed off of their steed, while a witch can cast spells on their horse to run faster. If you don't mind a bit of a horror flavor to your Western, this might be the game for you.

Wizards of the Wild West, by ckellyrpg.

Wizards of the Wild West is an action-oriented TTRPG that combines fantasy magic with classic Wild West themes. It is powered by the LUMEN system, and takes heavy inspiration from looter-shooter games such as Destiny.

LUMEN is still a game that I’m excited to try out, so seeing it tagged onto a western game about wizards made me take a second look. This is a game for a raucous good time; you’ll be pulling off sweet character combos, with easy-to-understand breakdowns of each character class. Right now the game is still in development, but it’s still considered playable, so if you get it now it might have more content for you down the road!

We Deal in Lead, by Odin’s Beard.

You look to those closest to you, fellow gunslingers of the Order of the King. The arduous trek across the bleached desert is over and now you stand before a slip door. Though tested, the fellowship of your Order stands true.

You grasp the worn sandalwood grip of your artefact gun and twist open the door. You gasp as the sharp sea air hits your lungs. Gulls caw and the foam sprays your face like a baptism. You step through to another reality.

After all, there are other worlds than these.

We Deal In Lead comes highly recommended to me by folks who like the OSR scene. It’s based off of Cairn, a well-beloved fantasy system, and if you got the TTRPGs for Trans Rights in Florida bundle, you already have a copy!

The setting is meant to be somewhat post-apocalyptic, but the barriers between your world and others are thin, causing threats (and allies) from other dimension to have a chance to enter your world. The game focuses on combat, exploration and survival, and it’s almost completely compatible with anything released for Cairn.

If you like what you see so far with this game, you might also want to check out Omega City, a weird west city setting, still in ashcan form.

Vampire Cowboys, by Maddy Searle.

You are a gang of outlaws in the Wild West. You have a lot to contend with: enemy gangs, law enforcement, wild animals, and… did I mention? You’re also vampires. You must figure out how to survive in this harsh land, where “justice” is often swift and violent. Will you blend in with the crowd, and hide your vampiric side in an attempt to live as a gun-toting cowboy? Or will you give in to your monstrous urges and use your supernatural powers, making yourself known as a vampire? It’s entirely up to you. 

This game premise is simple and easy to describe: you are vampires who are also cowboys. You live in a world where everything wants you dead, and you’re constantly fighting the parts of you that make you monstrous. The mechanics are very familiar if you’ve every come across a Lasers & Feelings game: a couple pages to read and you’re off to the races, ready to play.

Reboot Hill, by Groovy Dad Games.

REBOOT HILL is a sci-fi Western TTRPG set in the "Future West" of the far flung Hill-Ceballos System. When a war back on Earth results in a cyber-attack that frees all of the bots in the Hill-Ceballos, things go bad for the humans right quick. In the aftermath, bots have got to rely on their shooting irons and their processors to make their way in this new, post-human frontier. 

REBOOT HILL is a card-driven tabletop role-playing game in which players portray "Aces"--bots with advanced AI that find themselves on the right or wrong side of the law. 

Finally, a space western! Here’s a card-based game with a plethora of character options, including mechanical upgrades, as well as weapons and vehicles. You’re mainly going to be bounty hunters, chasing after varmints and villains so that you can scrape together a living. If you want a game whose game mechanics make you feel liked you’re sitting at a poker table, you should check out Reboot Hill.

Clink, by Technical Grimoire.

Clink is a tabletop RPG about drifters, the creeds that bring them together, and the history that drives them apart. This game uses coins to tell a story inspired by spaghetti westerns, ronin tales, and shows like Firefly or Supernatural.

Characters begin as rough sketches of the shifty sort you’d see in an old Western or Noir film. They all start as blank slates, their histories unknown. Tell stories about their past and create your character as you play.

I’m a big fan of Technical Grimoire, especially their expertly-designed Troika setting, Bones Deep. Clink isn’t Troika - it uses coins as a storytelling mechanic - but it’s very setting-flexible, as seen in the variety of the starting scenarios provided.

The game is also non-linear: throughout play your characters will experience flashbacks, which will help flesh out who they are as you play, and tell us something about who they used to be. You’ll start the game with two coins, which you can spend to gain a flashback, but you can also flip them to try and succeed at various tasks. As you play, you’ll also gain coins using a mechanic called a Trigger - bad habits that get them into trouble.

If you want a fresh set of rules to play around with in a flexible setting that stays true to the woes of outlaws and other Western tropes, I heavily recommend Clink.

Boondock Cartomancy, by Hookline & Sinker.

The consequences of westward expansion rear their head. Desolate, inhospitable, and unpredictable - the Outbacks are a ravaged desert, a wild tundra, an ancient tomb. Host to a plethora of unknown variables and formed from the corpses of failure, it’s a hotbed for the lawless, the corrupt, and the lost. Conditions for growing a corporate empire couldn’t be more ideal.

BOONDOCK CARTOMANCY is a tabletop roleplaying game about personal growth in a cruel and inhospitable wasteland, backlit with Western cowboys wielding powerful and unpredictable magic. It’s a game about reflecting upon the world and systems of exploitation we live in, and using ancient spells to blow up a caravan of criminals in a climactic shootout. It’s a game about interfacing with the human condition, and feeling cool as shit while doing it.

This game looks so cool! You are brokers, going on dangerous jobs in a hostile frontier, giving your characters objectives to complete while also exploring the way colonialism forces so many folks to act as simply cogs in a larger, uncaring machine. The game also gives you a fantasy to explore, by granting your characters card-based magic skills, and replacing their hit points with a luck meter. The game itself also has a really clever layout, presenting itself like an old-fashioned newspaper, with pieces of advertisements sprinkled throughout to give you bits of lore about the world. All in all, definitely worth checking out.

Former Rec Posts to Check Out

Rootin’, Tootin’ and Shootin.

Space Westerns.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #western games

[nartothelar]

I was seeing the comic of Emmets self destructing behavior even after he and Ingo reunited and wow… that implication it’s not the first time…

How many times must have this happened? How many times until Ingo knew snapping him out by a gentle hand on his shoulder? What bad habits did Emmet develop while being on his own? With "Ingo" encouraging him to be more healthy? Just so deliciously dark! I love it?

On the other hand how much strain Ingo's body going through when he has his moments he sees "the man in white" his body switches to "life-or-death-mode" receiving a little bruise could cause him to fall into full panic mode and try to treat it like a lethal wound if not for Emmet snapping him out of it and calming him down again.

While both have their moments of seeing their subconscious guardian angel both react differently.

Emmet is apathetic towards "Ingo" dismissing him since he’s not even there. He reacts mentally.

Ingo’s whole body could react to small bruises and injuries like they could kill him and depending on his support to get through it. He reacts with his whole body.

Also when Ingo’s aware he’s probably insecure about all the scars he’s got on him now. How many times he almost died… he doesn’t want the real Emmet to know. It’s bad enough that "the man in white knows"…

YES YES!!! This analysis is so perfect!!! If you'd allow me to ramble a bit...

Emmet's self destructive tendencies have been going on for a while since Ingo's disappearance. He has his Elesa and his depot agents to support him/remind him to not truly forget about himself (Elesa trying to take more time off from her job to check on Emmet/invite him out to lunch to make sure he eats, the veteran depot agents frequently checking up on him during the day/encouraging him take more breaks/interrupting his smoke breaks "accidentally", ect) but it's been hard to say the least. It will take some time for these habits to truly go away even with Ingo back, especially on his bad days.

BUT ALSO YEAH! Ingo! If Emmet appears at the corner of his eye suddenly or he sees him from a distance (any sort of blurred visage - as the man in white always appeared as) he might have a knee jerk response - a sudden urge to run or seek safety - but ultimately it won't be too serious.

His body reacts the most drastically when he is already in a state of injury and Emmet is within eyesight. Elevated heart rate, shortness of breathe, blurred vision, body tremors: his adrenaline levels will spike to an unnatural level causing a ton of stress on the body, since his mind is basically telling his body that he's on the brink of death. The quickest way to calm him down if it were to get this bad would be to have Emmet out of his sight until he can calm down...Not very ideal when the source of one's panic works the same job as you, in a work environment where slight injuries aren't too uncommon

#emmet would try to calm him down if he were to have an episode and it might even work since emmet is pretty good at reorienting him and #helping him focus on where he is and that he is safe but he might also make it worse and cause him to panic harder! :D #and ok this answer is already super long but lastl i think ingo would try to hide his scars once he sees how worried emmet is about him #when he returns like emmet is already worrying about the fact he was sent back in time where pokemon actively try to attack you. he doesnt #want to make him worry about the injuries he's already gotten too #physical or mental #i already hc that out of the two ingo is usually the one to dress more conservatively #like long sleeves and long pants or skirts but after hisui even more so #tho i would think his fashion would also factor in maneuverability and motility now more than ever #BUT YEAH IM RAMBLING NOW LMAO #subconscious guardian angel au #long post #ask #angst

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

Hii there! If you have the time, can I please request hcs or scenario of Knockout and reader being absolute chaotic bff's. Like they may both be a total pain in everyone's aft but KO and reader are also surprisingly efficient when together so it's hard to get mad at them (I hope my rambling is easy to understand 😅)

((Do I have to say "Spoilers for Predicons Rising" in 2023? Probably now but i'm nothing if not paranoid, lol.))

Being chaotic besties with Knock Out would include...

- Megatron finally recruits another medic and- OH SWEET PRIMUS THERE'S TWO OF THEM OH NO

- Seriously, you get along like a house on fire and might one day actually set a house on fire. The leader of the Decepticons realizes he made a mistake the moment you actually giggle at one of Knock Out's snarky comments... but what can he do? It's not like he has a long list of medics he can just call up and have come all the way to Earth. He was lucky to run across another medic at all, so the resists the daily temptation to (literally) throw one of you off the Nemesis.

- Starscream is also absolutely devastated by this development. Now he has two idiots trying to suggest he upgrade his weapons, his look, his face... at this point, he's pretty sure both you and Knock Out are resisting the urge to just gesture to all of him when he comes in for a checkup.

- Of course, you can't be friends with Knock Out and not also be friends with Breakdown (who is very much alive and nothing bad will ever happen to him shut up). He also likes you immediately, if only because you clearly drive Starscream up the wall just by existing, and another medic means more of his friends, the Vehicons, are getting patched up in short order.

- (Okay but real talk, in some crazy AU where Breakdown gets horribly murdered, which totally did not happen in canon, having someone supportive who treats him with genuine friendship and respect by his side might have made him finally question his allegiance just a bit sooner? It's amazing what happens when a seeker who screams at you constantly is not your only source of companionship on a proverbially sinking ship. Whether it's sooner or not, you follow him to the autobots, and now your chaotic dynamic is their problem. Ratchet will never emotionally recover from this.)

#knock out x reader #tfp x reader #platonic #kobd #knock out #transformers x reader #cybertronian reader #maccadam #gender neutral reader

[another-lost-mc]

Fairy Tales and Paw Prints

You're selected for the Devildom exchange program, but you're not alone.

SATAN x gn!Reader 3.5k Words | SFW | Fluff, Developing Relationship, Misunderstandings/Jealousy A/N: MC's cat isn't named but referred to as he/him. Obey Me! Masterlist

Satan is irritated when Lucifer calls all of his brothers to the library for a family meeting a couple days after your arrival in the Devildom. He feigns disinterest when Lucifer announces your feline pet from the human world has been brought to the House of Lamentation as well.

He watches Lucifer’s exasperated expression with amusement when Asmo complains loudly about cat fur getting all over his expensive clothes, and Levi pipes up that the animal might damage some of his rare collectibles. Mammon makes the mistake of wondering out loud whether human pets are worth anything to Devildom collectors, and Beel has the decency to look the slightest bit ashamed when he clarifies the cat is not for eating.

Lucifer silences them all with a frosty glare, and he emphasizes with a tone that will hear no argument that you’ve accepted responsibility for the animal and any upkeep it requires. He stomps from the room, clearly fed up with the discussion, and Satan and the rest of his brothers leave too - some of them still grumbling about the hassle of having a new pet around.

For all the fuss your pet created at first, Satan notices that your cat hardly makes an appearance in the days since. He doesn’t see the cat when you pass by the kitchen to grab a snack on the way to RAD, and you keep your door closed when you join the brothers for dinner. He thinks he can hear you talking to your pet in the evenings, and he knows he’s heard little chirps and meows that verify the animal’s existence.

Satan doesn’t care. And he’s definitely not disappointed.

He’s reading in the library one night after dinner when you slip in quietly and walk past him, oblivious to his presence, and stop in front of a bookcase nearby. You don't realize you’re looking in the section written exclusively in ancient demonic tongues - you slide books off the shelves, flip through the first couple pages, and then put them back just as quickly. 

He’s never going to finish this chapter with that sort of distraction. “It’s hard to read when you’re making a mess of my shelving system,” he says when you reject the sixth book you pick up. He sets his book aside and stands up from the sofa he was reclining on. The surprised little noise you make is not cute in the slightest.

“I’m having trouble finding something that’s not - whatever this language is,” you explain bashfully. You seem to wither under his gaze, and you look away. “I wasn’t able to bring any books with me.” 

Satan takes pity on you, but he’s not prepared to console crying humans today. “Come with me,” he says a bit more firmly than he intends to. He doesn’t look back but he doesn’t have to; you hesitate only for a moment before following him dutifully from the library towards his room.

He stops in front of his door and you look at him curiously when he meets your gaze over his shoulder. “Everything in my room is carefully organized. Do not touch anything. Do you understand?” When you gulp and nod your acceptance of his terms, he finally opens the door, walking inside.

You stop in the doorway and stare with blatant shock at the state of his room. Carefully organized? Your eyes scan the wobbly towers of books that fill the space and make it feel uncomfortably cramped. You can barely see a clear path on the floor to walk on. You take a tentative step forward, nearly tripping over a stack of books just inside the door. You flail around trying to find balance, resisting the very real urge to turn around and run for your life.

This room is a death trap.

“What kind of books do you like?” comes his slightly muffled voice. You think you can see a blonde tuft of hair peeking out from behind one of the many bookcases scattered around the room but you can’t be certain. The curtains are drawn and the room is poorly lit.

“I’m not picky,” you say hurriedly. “Anything is fine.” Anything that will get me out of here sooner.

When he appears a minute or two later, he’s holding a leather bound book. He offers it to you, but he doesn’t let go when you try to pull it from his grasp. “Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I hope you remember that no matter what you read in its pages, I promise the Devildom can be far more dangerous to humans like yourself.” He releases the book and you pull it to your chest protectively. “Do not mark the pages or fold the corners. When you’re finished, I expect you to return it. That’s a rare edition.”

You nod quickly, thanking him with one last fleeting glance before you spin around and leave before you accidentally knock anything over. When you make it back to your bedroom door, you open it carefully and slip inside, closing it tightly behind you. You look down when you hear a small rumbling purr at your feet.

“Well, I got something to read,” you say to your feline friend when you crouch down and scratch under his chin. He tilts his head back in bliss, completely unaware how close he came to becoming orphaned because of an avalanche of books.

When you lay in bed that night, the borrowed book in your lap and a cat sleeping peacefully on your legs, you allow yourself to finally relax. You’ve had trouble sleeping since your arrival in the Devildom and you hope that reading will help tire you out. You skim through the stories that don’t interest you but find yourself growing drowsy with each fairy tale you complete. When you don’t think you can stay awake any longer, you turn off your bedside lamp and roll over. Your cat makes a disgruntled noise but makes his way up the bed to you, curling against your chest. You fall asleep with his warm fur tickling your chin.

The next evening after dinner, you plan to return Satan’s book. If you can stay in the safety of the library, or the hallway, anywhere that isn’t the book-laden minefield of his bedroom, you figure you’ll ask him for more recommendations. Maybe you overlooked the bookshelves in the library with things you can understand, or maybe he has some more human world books hidden in one of his book piles. It’s worth a shot! 

He doesn’t make you wait long when you knock quietly on his door. He peers at you through a gap before swinging it wide open. You think he’s almost impressed you’ve returned so soon, but you blink and the look is gone.

You hold the book out to him, and he spares it a cursory once-over for damage before he nods with satisfaction. It feels like you’ve passed some sort of test and you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Thank you, this isn’t normally my type of book but it was still interesting…”

You trail off when you notice his gaze flickering away from you and towards something down the hall. You hear an excited chirp and see a blur of fluff zoom past you even as you bend down to try and catch your escaped cat. Satan doesn’t fare much better, his fingers barely grazing the animal who darts between his legs and into his bedroom.

“I am so sorry, I guess I didn’t close my door properly,” you explain, feeling more panicked now than that moment you first arrived in the Devildom. You hear soft meows growing quieter as your cat seems to explore deeper into Satan’s room. You’re clicking your tongue to try and draw him back to you, but it’s a lost cause.

Satan pulls something out of his pocket and starts shaking it. You hear a faint, interested chirp deep within the room.

“Why do you have cat treats?” you blurt out curiously, noticing the slight pink blush creeping across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“There are strays that come to the gardens sometimes,” he explains like it’s absolutely normal. “I give them treats when they visit.” He nearly mentions that he’s been hoping to meet your cat one day too but decides against it.

You nearly sag against the doorframe with relief when your cat comes prancing towards you, eyes focused on the bag dangling from Satan’s fingers. You both watch your cat pounce on the treats he shakes out onto the floor. You lean down and stroke his fur, glad to see he hasn’t gotten himself hurt somehow - you don’t know if books are the only things Satan hoards in his room.

“You can pet him if you like,” you offer, noticing the way Satan’s watching you and your pet like he’s not sure what to do next. He crouches beside you, and you both take turns running your fingers through the cat’s soft fur.

“He’s bigger than I thought he would be,” Satan says quietly. “Siamese?”

“Tonkinese,” you correct him. “He’s friendly and likes to talk, but I didn’t want him to bother anyone else. I’ve been trying to keep him in my room.” You’re surprised with how gentle Satan is being, petting him softly and keeping his voice low to avoid spooking him. You tell Satan your cat’s name, and he repeats it with a small smile.

The spell between you is broken when Satan stands up. You pick up your cat to keep him from darting back into Satan’s room, but he seems content to accept the small head scritches Satan offers before he backs away.

“I’ll text you later to see if I have anything in my library that might suit your reading preferences,” Satan says. He looks at you, then at your cat, and he looks away. “I don’t mind if you want to bring him again. It might be easier than trying to keep him locked up.”

You bid him goodnight and head back to your room, quietly scolding your cat who's certainly going to be on the hunt for more treats now that he’s had a taste of freedom. You don’t notice that Satan watches you until you turn the corner and disappear from view.

Over the next couple weeks, you and Satan fall into a sort of pattern. You visit him in his room - to borrow a book, or to read, or to enjoy his quiet company - with your cat in tow. He gives your cat treats and cuddles while you learn to navigate the tall stacks of books in his room, asking questions about the different Devildom authors he seems to like and offering human world recommendations of your own.

You find a part-time job near RAD to help cover the expenses of bringing your pet to the Devildom. Lucifer already provides you with a monthly stipend, but you want to make sure you can afford both your necessities on your own if necessary. You’re trying not to be a burden, and Lucifer has no issues with you choosing to work; he secretly admires your determination to be self-sufficient. He hopes your good behaviour makes an impression on his troublesome siblings.

You and Satan still find time to spend together despite your busy schedule. He offers to meet you when your shift is over so you don’t have to walk home alone. Sometimes he goes to your room and plays with your cat, sneaking him treats to tide him over until you can give him his dinner upon your return. Satan helps you make purchases using Levi’s Akuzon account which gives you a nice discount, and he helps carry any of the packages that arrive for you that are too bulky or heavy for you to carry on your own.

It surprises everyone else in the House of Lamentation that you and Satan are becoming fast friends. They assumed his unpredictable anger and no-nonsense attitude would scare you off. You’ve seen his temper flare since you arrived, but it’s normally directed towards one of his brothers which makes you feel a bit relieved. Even in his temperamental moods, he makes an effort not to shut you out or turn you away. It’s not a conscious realization, and he wouldn’t admit it to a soul if it were, but your presence relaxes him. Your quiet brand of kindness and consideration for his feelings is a rarity in the Devildom, and he seeks you out when he feels himself slipping back into bouts of fury and violence.

When you grow closer to his siblings, Satan watches from the sidelines like an outsider. His brothers are chaos and trouble, prone to dragging you into their messes. He tells himself that it makes sense you’re getting closer with them too, since you all live together - they should look out for your well-being as much as he does. That sort of connection is bound to lead to friendships, and while your pacts with Mammon and Levi are a surprise to him at first, he understands in theory why they’re beneficial to you.

If he seems a bit harsher with his older brothers after, it’s just a coincidence.

The obvious drawback to your growing collection of demon friends is that his brothers seek you out more often. They’ve forgotten their previous complaints about your cat as they coo over him when he follows you in the hallways. They’ve even said they don’t mind if you feed him in the dining room like he’s part of the family. Sometimes one of the brothers will show up at your door with a surprise for you: some new feather toy for the cat to play with, or a container of dried Devildom herbs that is similar to catnip you buy in the human world.

When you knock on Satan’s door in the evenings, he knows you’re avoiding your room for a reason. His brothers can be selfish at times, and it can be difficult to relax when they’re hovering in your room or the nearby kitchen, constantly seeking your attention and using your cat as an excuse to intrude on your privacy. Sometimes you grab a random book and plunk down in his armchair to read. Other times you join him on his bed, your cat laying across both your laps while you lean lightly against him. 

The pacts with you have changed his brothers. Sometimes he thinks about being in a pact with you too - but he dismisses the notion as nothing more than jealousy, something his brother Levi might sulk about. He is absolutely not sulking. He pretends this tug-of-war with his brothers for your friendship doesn’t bother him and for a time, he convinces himself that’s true.

Bottling up his emotions never worked well for Satan in the past, so it shouldn’t surprise him when the annoyance simmering within him boils to a rage.

While you’re at work after school one evening, he browses Akuzon for some new books and some imported human world movies to buy. Eventually he ends up browsing the pet section, because of course he does. He adds a bag of cat food to the cart and decides he’ll forget to ask you to repay him later.

He checks the new arrivals page and a cat tree catches his attention. Your cat’s on his way to being a senior, and Satan’s noticed the way he struggles with jumping on and off some of the furniture in the house. The cat tree has steps he can climb, and wide, tall perches so he can stretch out easily. Satan sees a pet ramp that he adds to the cart too - that might help your cat get on and off your bed more easily. He adds an extra ramp to the cart for his own room - just in case.

Satan approaches your door with his tablet in hand. He would’ve already purchased the cat tree for you (like he intends to), but he wants to make sure there’s enough space for it in your room. He knows you should be home by now; Lucifer was staying late at RAD and offered to walk you home tonight.

Satan pauses outside your room but the excitement drains from him when he hears familiar voices within. He knocks on the door before letting himself inside. You’re sitting at your desk with your homework spread out in front of you. Mammon is teasing your cat with a laser pointer while Asmo films on his DDD and giggles at the way your cat sprints around the room, pouncing on the red dot to no avail. 

For someone who complained so much about not wanting a cat before, Asmo doesn’t seem to care that his black leggings are covered in fur.

Mammon laughs and runs the laser across the floor and up Satan’s leg. Your cat pauses at his feet and when he recognizes who the leg belongs to, he chirps and rubs against his leg instead. 

The cat’s affection isn’t enough to soften the bitter anger swirling in the pit of his stomach. He spins on his heel and marches away, slamming your door behind him. He hears you call to him, but he keeps walking until he’s back in his room, surrounded by his favourite books and comfortable silence.

He doesn’t know why, but in that moment he despises all of it.

He throws his tablet aside, hearing it hit the wall before it drops to the floor. He slouches on the edge of his bed, grabbing his hair in fistfuls and trying to calm himself down before he destroys everything in arm’s reach.

He’s not sure how much time has passed, but eventually he hears your footsteps pause outside his door. You knock quietly and he hopes you’ll just go away. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. But you persist, and then a soft mew trills outside the door too, and he realizes you’re not going to leave until he gives you what you want.

He opens the door and blinks at the steaming cup in your hands, your worried eyes gazing at him hopefully. Your cat is walking between both your legs, oblivious to the tension.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you say. You’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for, but something in his pained expression as he stormed from your room earlier has bothered you since.

Satan tells you he doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t even know what it is. All he knows is that he’s not prepared to try and untangle the complicated feelings that make him feel like he’s walking a very thin line over a dark chasm. The tiniest push could set him off, make him fall - and he’s scared about what that might mean for him. And for you.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I thought you might like something warm to help you feel better.” You hold the cup out for him to take, and he recognizes the familiar scent of coffee. He’s never seen you drink coffee in the Devildom, usually preferring tea that Barbatos or the angels offer you at RAD or Purgatory Hall.

He accepts the gesture for what it is - a peace offering, a temporary truce while he sorts out whatever’s going on in his head - and he takes a sip. Your pleased smile falls from your face when he chokes on the drink, and he coughs into the sleeve of his shirt.

Your eyes are panicked and you try to take the cup back from him. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Is it too hot?”

He shakes his head, clearing his throat. “No, it’s fine. It’s just awfully –” he stops himself, his surprise turning into realization. “You used hell coffee beans to make this?”

You shrug, turning away. You still seem embarrassed by his reaction, assuming you made the drink wrong. “You like to drink it when we’re reading together,” you explain, biting your lip nervously. “If you don’t want it, I can take it back and get you something else.”

He gives you the most reassuring smile he can manage despite his turbulent mood. “No, you’re right. It is my favourite. And you made it well. Thank you.”

You take a few steps back. “Well, I should probably finish my homework. I kicked the others out of my room for the night. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” You start to walk away, cat at your heel, but turn over your shoulder to look at him one more time. “I don’t have to work tomorrow night. We can hang out after dinner if you want?”

You beam at him happily when he nods, and Satan watches you walk away with a bit more bounce to your step. He shuts the door and chuckles quietly while he stares into the cup you gave him. He’s certain you’re not aware of hell coffee’s other properties, the reason why the cup you made specially for him is more bitter than anything he’s ever tasted.

He sits in his chair, sipping from his cup with a smile on his face, and lets the warmth of your brewed affection soothe him.

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

#obey me satan #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me satan x reader #satan x reader #obey me fluff #omswd fluff #satan fluff #obey me satan x mc #satan x mc #obey me satan x you #satan x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #gn!reader

[p3achysuki]

A/N: hello! This will be my first Baldur’s gate 3 writing and I’m a huge Gortash simp so obviously I needed to write something for Gortash and dark urge.

summary: before the tadpoles you were Bhaal’s favorite child, you worshipped him the way he wished his sired children did. You offered him lords, ladies even champions. Yet Bhaal would feel you slip away from his grasps because of a certain tyrant proposing you an alliance.

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, angst.

Til death do us part

The first time you killed someone you didn’t have much memories about it, you remembered your dominant hand feeling sore and the warmth on your skin and the smell, most people would find it disgusting yet you found it.. comforting.

When you came back to your senses you felt the bile your stomach turn into knots, “m’lady” you heard a voice behind you say and when you turned around you saw sceleritas for the first time. You desperately tried to explain to him it wasn’t you who did it, but he laughed it off “of course it was you m’lady! Such fine work you did of them, father would be very proud of you.”

After that Sceleritas said he would lead you back home, to your real family every night you thought about that day. It wasn’t until your father fueled the urge for you to kill that you would forget about the people you murdered, the more killings you did for your father the less you started to think about them your victims.

Worshippers at the temple praised you for your work even while you weren’t the main speaker for your father yet, so many people named you the prophet who would set the world on fire for Bhaal. You didn’t realize that your kin was envious of this, Orin thought all of your sacrifices to Bhaal was a disgrace. She deserved every bit of praises that the cultist would shower you in, she’s the only one who’s a pure blood of Bhaal not you.

Orin knew about the plan you had in mind, using the chosen of Bane and Myrkul to gain control of Baldur’s gate to sacrifice all the lives that the mind flyers would take control of. You were an embarrassment to father, no spawn of Bhaal ever needed an alliance with other gods. She desperately wanted to push her knife deep in your skull to show you a lesson, but she knew father wouldn’t allow it. Father only has his eyes on you, he’s favorite child, his prophet.

The first time Orin accompanied you to moonrise towers, she saw the way the tyrant’s eyes never left you, she saw the way his eyes would scan over your figure a smirk resting on his lips when your eyes would meet his. Afterwards when you were meant to go home with her back to Baldur’s gate you would tell her you had something to do, she already knew you were spending time with that little lordling.

She tried getting information out of Ketheric, but he would always deny it. Why did they favor you so much?! You tried hiding the affection you had for Gortash, the first night you spent with him you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Yet when Gortash runs his thumb against your lower lip calling you his favorite assassin, you can’t help but melt into his touch.

Gortash wasn’t quiet about his admiration for you, even in front of Ketheric he would wrap his arm around your waist “what does my favorite assassin say hm?”

Ketheric either didn’t care about the relationship you two developed or personally wasn’t against it, he would just sigh rubbing his temple before explaining more about his plan.

After a month an unexpected event happened, you haven’t had your period for a full moon cycle. You thought it was the stress from having to commit fear among the streets of Baldur’s gate until later a cleric confirmed it for you, “our lord will be delighted at this news m’lady” no he wouldn’t, he would lash against you for letting it happen, for letting the tyrant seduce you so easily.

Orin overheard what happened and thought father would finally see the truth that you were not deserving of his blessing, but instead he allowed it “while I did not command you to procreate, any offspring you produce will have my blood running in their veins I will make them of use in the future to come” Orin was livid at this, she showed her frustration to her own butler cutting and slicing him every time he would come back.

You told Gortash about the pregnancy, for the first time you were actually worried what he was going to say to you. Instead he pulls you in his arms pressing his forehead against yours, “I’m surprised your father didn’t lash against you for this” he was worried for you, so every night he tried convincing you to stay with him. He knew Orin despised you, anytime he would get near you he would see the way her eyes glared daggers into you. It was only a matter of time before she would break away from her leash and kill you, and he was worried he wouldn’t be there to protect you or his child.

As the months passed by Gortash saw that you struggled to put on your armorer as your belly started to show more, he suggested you wear something more comfortable but you scoffed and denied him each time “what kind of chosen do I look like if I’m wearing something frail?” He rolled his eyes, hells if he thought you were stubborn before you’re even more stubborn now.

Yet nobody disrespected you even while you were carrying his babe, even Ketheric would assign guards to be with you “I’m not worried about you, this child could be a successor for all of us in the future” Gortash saw through his lies though it was obvious he was worried for you, he still remembers when Ketheric sent him a letter and a gift about a metal contraption he found at moonrise.

As your due date was approaching closer you kept traveling to moonrise towers without him, he would get angry telling you that it wasn’t safe to travel “my father demands me of seeing everything at moonrise towers Gortash I can’t just disobey him”

He knew you weren’t wrong, “and what about the babe? will you keep them safe?”

“With my life Gortash, if they’re meant to be a successor for my father then I will not let anyone harm them”

Gortash regretted that day not going with you, but his lord demanded he stay behind at Baldur’s gate to attend a few party gatherings.

“I’ll be safe Gortash Orin will be with me.”

He should’ve told you that he didn’t trust Orin with you, that he would see the hate in her eyes growing each day, each passing month.

A meeting was called for Ketheric and him, and when they arrived they expected to see you and not Orin grinning in pride. “From this fourth I will be the speaker for Bhaal’s temple” Gortash felt Ketheric’s eyes drift over to him almost to see what reaction he had of this, but Gortash couldn’t speak he felt his mouth go dry as he struggled to think about what to say.

“Orin-“

“What is it lordling” she grinned again, she knew she was getting under his skin.

“The babe-“

“At Bhaal’s temple lordling, he’s not yours to keep” with that Orin left leaving only a red dust behind.

Ketheric could see Gortash digging his nails into his palms, “we must continue our plan” was all Ketheric said before leaving Gortash to be alone in his thoughts.

You both had a baby boy, but you two would never get to see him now.

(Not sure if I want to make this into a mini series or not, but I hope you guys enjoyed!)

#bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 writing #gortash x durge #gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x durge #bg3 angst #enver Gortash angst #tw: pregnancy #tw: murder #gortash x reader #enver gortash x reader #enver Gortash x you

[delimeful]

be unbroken or be brave again (3)

warnings: threats, fear, arguing, cliffhanger

-

The first obstacle to their little road trip was convincing Roman to dress appropriately for the journey.

The armor itself wasn’t all that stand-out. Patton had seen plenty of well-funded mercenaries out there who could afford an enchantment or two for their greaves. The coat of arms stamped on everything, on the other hand…

In all fairness, they had kidnapped the guy. He’d already been uncertain about, well, just about everything in the situation so far, and now he was being told that he couldn’t even wear his favorite accessories.

Patton would have had a little bit more sympathy if the accessories in question weren’t all emblazoned with the decorative sigil of Faerin, a kingdom that had personally victimized his best friend, as well as frequently seeming to make trouble whenever and wherever it pleased.

Plus, the other thing was—

“If you walk into town with that on, we’re all gonna get jumped,” Virgil said bluntly, waggling the blade of Roman’s dagger at the coat of arms brightly emblazoned on multiple pieces of the knight’s armor. “Seriously, ditch it.”

Roman huffed, holding a scandalized hand up to his chest as though Virgil had told him to strip down to his trousers and jump into a briar patch. “We will not get attacked! Faerin isn’t currently at war with any of the nearby territories.”

“Wow, real gracious of them,” Virgil replied flatly, and Patton jumped in to prevent the tensions from rising any further.

“Roman, kiddo, it’s not really about the war,” he explained, holding his hands up peaceably. “It’s more about all the taxes. People really don’t like the kingdom’s policies, so as soon as you get clear of the enforced territories, well. Folks out here tend to atax first, ask questions second when it comes to Faerin.”

Virgil snorted, leaning back against the wall and twirling the blade in his hand smoothly. He had flatly refused to give the dagger back to Roman even when Patton asked him in private, which was how he knew this little venture was really putting his friend on edge.

It wasn’t fair of him to ask Virgil to do this, not really, but he couldn’t help but ask anyhow. To meet another survivor of one of the worst days of his life and find that they’d developed a hatred of the very one who’d saved him that day… it was too sad to bear, so Patton was going to fix it! Or, he was going to try really hard to, at least.

The fixing process would have gone much smoother if the pair of them would stop jumping like startled cats every time one or the other did anything, but Patton had no say in that. Virgil was twitchy by nature, and Roman had proven rather reactive himself.

“These could have perfectly useful applications as well, you know!” Roman huffed, running his fingers over the embroidered underlayer he’d been about to put on. “Imagine if we run into a fellow Faerin knight out there? My kingdom’s symbol could grant us an ally, as simply as that, giving us more protection from malignant forces!”

Patton resisted the urge to grimace at the very idea.

Less restrained, Virgil reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment, and then huffed out a disbelieving exhale, sheathing the dagger. “Okay, sure, let’s imagine that. After you get done exchanging obnoxiously overdramatic greetings with this imaginary knight who somehow survived out there without getting robbed, what then? What do you think your fellow knight will have to say when you let it slip that I’m a dragonwitch, infamously the number one enemy of your kingdom?”

Roman immediately descended into sputtering, his shoulders hunching at Virgil’s sharp critiques. “We— Obviously I would inform them of the specifics of the situation, and let them know that despite what it may look like, there’s no reason to worry and nothing to fear, for I have everything well in hand!”

At the words, Virgil went still for a moment, a sudden edge of danger seeping into his rigid posture. Pushing off the wall, he stalked closer to where Roman stood, gaze flinty and mouth slanted. For every step closer he got, Roman’s shoulders bunched up further with tension, his hand dropping to his hip as though to draw a blade that was no longer sheathed there.

Patton thought about getting involved, and then decided that he couldn’t step in every time the two of them started bickering. He had to let them do some olive branching of their own! Virgil wasn’t the best gardener, but anyone could wield a spade if they tried hard enough! It would probably be fine.

… Emphasis on probably.

For his part, Virgil leaned forward slowly until he was practically looming over Roman, and let his leathery wings slowly rise like the mantle of a bird of prey, the early morning light reflecting off his scales like oil gleaming in a lantern’s glow. He tilted his head with a menacing, narrow-eyed smile, sharp teeth on full display. “Do you have everything well in hand, Princey?”

Roman swallowed, lifting his chin to meet Virgil’s gaze head-on. “As far as anyone needs to know, yes.”

Despite his bravado, his hands were clenched into shaking fists at his sides. Virgil’s malicious smile eased into something harder to read, and he rolled his eyes before backing off.

“Just get rid of the sigils. We don’t need the trouble.”

Roman’s brow furrowed for a moment, his expression hard to read, but this time, he didn’t protest.

—

The second obstacle to their road trip was convincing Roman to actually get on the road.

Or, rather, on the dragon.

“There is absolutely no way I am literally placing my life in the claws of a dragon,” Roman stated plainly, expression dour. He was trying to look aloof, but the effect was ruined by the way his gaze kept roaming back to rest on the large footprints Virgil had left in the dirt when they’d first arrived back home, unconscious knight in hand.

“That’s probably the smartest thing he’s said all day,” Virgil added unhelpfully, picking dirt out from beneath aforementioned claws with his pilfered blade. “Give the guy a prize.”

“Virgil,” Patton said, exasperated, before turning to Roman. “There’s no need to worry, Virgil is a very safe flier. Plus, you’ve already done this once before, remember?”

“You know, I actually don’t recall! How strange,” Roman retorted, re-adjusting his pauldron in short, jerky motions. “It’s almost as though someone clubbed me over the head with a big rock or something. Imagine that!”

Patton’s cheeks went a little hot, and he cleared his throat pointedly. “Well, I was there, and he was very careful to make sure neither of us got hurt! To be honest, I was pretty darn nervous being that high up, too. Really, heights like that aren’t always fall they’re cracked up to be!”

“Don’t add pun-based insult to my injury, I beseech you,” Roman replied, grimacing. “And I’m not afraid of heights themselves, I’m afraid of being dropped from them!”

Virgil snorted, finally sticking the sheathed dagger in his boot and ambling away from them. “If you want to avoid assassination attempts, maybe stop giving out free ideas, Princey. Not that it matters. If I was going to kill you, I’d do it human-shaped. More fun that way.”

Ignoring Patton’s exasperated look and Roman’s squawk of offense alike, Virgil walked over to the middle of the clearing, taking care to circle around the daffodils Patton had planted as he went. He stopped once he had a wide stretch of space between him and any potential obstacles, glancing back over briefly with his lips pressed tightly together.

Patton gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, mostly to encourage and support him, and a little bit to remind him that no matter what happened with Roman, Patton would always be there at his best friend’s side.

Virgil offered him a slight upturn of the lips, more grimace than smile, but he seemed a bit more relaxed when he closed his eyes and turned away from them, hand lifting to press against the little purple stone set between his collarbones.

“Wait, he’s not actually going to—,” Roman started, only to be cut off by Patton flapping his hands at him in a shushing gesture, eyes still locked on his friend.

Virgil rolled his shoulders, drew his wings close around himself, and then began to stretch the leathery appendages out, wider and wider. There was a thick crackling noise, like bones snapping or lightning running through an old tree, and with a twist, Virgil shifted into his largest form.

It only took a few moments, the air around him warping strangely, and then, there he stood, tail brushing the ground as he shook himself like a very, very oversized dog after a bath. The dust stirred around them from the intensity of it.

Roman had yelped and skipped back a fair few steps, but Patton didn’t bother even shuffling out of the way. Sure enough, none of those huge claws even got close enough to think about grazing him.

He knew his friend, and so he knew that Virgil was a worrier like no other. Frankly, Virgil’s pinky finger probably held more caution in it than a grown man or three had in their whole bodies. His human pinky, not the dragon one, to boot.

Patton was probably the safest he’d ever been, standing in the shadow of Virgil’s wings. He sure felt that way, at least.

“Hey, kiddo!”

Virgil perked up at the call, shuffling around a bit to lower his big scaly head into closer range. He was rumbling low in his chest, not necessarily loudly, but still definitely big enough that Patton could feel the noise in his bones.

He reached out and embraced the surprisingly soft snout as Virgil nudged it lightly against him, huffing lightly and waiting patiently for Patton to get his fill of impromptu dragon cuddles.

Patton smiled to himself. This was a far better sight to see than the nervous, flinching way that Virgil had acted that first time he’d shifted, when he kept sneaking glances at Patton like he was waiting for him to realize what he was and run screaming for the hills.

When he finally pulled back and turned to grab their bags, he found Roman standing only a few meters away, looking more strung out than a ball of yarn rolled down a hill. His hand was once again hovering near his side as though seeking a weapon to draw, a nervous tell.

“Is he still… He’s kept his mind?” Roman asked, eyes flickering down to Patton for the briefest moment before returning to the intense stare he was directing at Virgil.

Patton reminded himself that in Roman’s eyes, the only reason a dragonwitch would take this form would be to wreak havoc, and managed to keep himself from frowning too overtly at the knight.

“Virgil is Virgil, no matter which form he’s in,” he replied, forcing some pep into his step as he scooped up the first of their bags. “He’s just a little more… caught up in his instincts, when he’s in this form.”

That was how Virgil had explained all the happy rumbling and gentle nudges the first time, at least. Patton had made the merciful decision not to tease him about the purring.

“Oh, so murder is still on the table, then,” Roman muttered, finally breaking the stare-off to avert his gaze as Patton sent him a pointed look. “Joking! Just a joke, much like the one our reptilian associate made mere moments ago!”

“Mhmm,” Patton hummed dubiously as he turned back to Virgil. “Well, Mister Jokester, it’s time to get moving! We wouldn’t want the daylight hours to drag-on without us!”

Apparently feeling more confident now that he was the size of a house, Virgil yawned loudly— the sight of which made Roman go a bit grey— and then settled into a resting position to allow Patton to clamber up onto his back.

It only took a handful of minutes for Patton to successfully haul up and tie down their bags, with Virgil’s ears carefully flicking back to listen to his humming as he made sure everything was tightly secured to the spikes along his dragonic friend’s spine.

It took more than twice that time for Roman to stop staring dumbfoundedly at Virgil and actually begin to approach.

Of course, the moment he got within a few meters range, Virgil’s large slitted pupil flicked over to watch the knight, making him freeze mid-step like a deer before a mountain lion.

Patton resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he slid down to stand at Virgil’s side. At this rate, they wouldn’t even get off the ground until noon.

“That’s Roman, remember?” he reminded Virgil, reaching up to pat his shoulder in the hopes of helping him refocus on the task at hand. “You looked after him while he was sick, and now he’s traveling with us for a bit.”

Virgil blinked, his gaze still following Roman’s every move, with far less irritation than Patton would have expected. His pupils had even rounded out slightly, making him look far more friendly in Patton’s opinion.

For some reason, this didn’t seem to reassure Roman.

“C’mon!” Patton gestured for Roman to approach, and Roman shook his head vehemently, as though Patton was insane for even asking.

As though prompted by the exchange, Virgil rumbled and shuffled around a bit in place, his paws creeping forward and head dipping lower in a pose that Patton didn’t recognize until he noticed the dragon’s tail swishing back and forth behind him.

Roman picked up on what was about to happen much quicker, going by the way he went pale and immediately attempted to scramble away.

“Virgil, wait—,” Patton attempted, and then sighed as his friend lunged forward like a cat pouncing, eliciting a terrified shriek from the knight they were supposed to be befriending.

Well. At least none of the bags had been jarred loose by the motion.

The screaming was a little concerning, but Patton was sure that Virgil wasn’t going to murder the guy or anything, so he didn’t bother rushing as he circled around to see what was going on.

What was going on was that Virgil had neatly pinned Roman down with one clawed paw, and was now snuffling at him intently.

Huh. That was a lot less aggressive posturing than Patton had expected, honestly. The more he watched, the more it looked like Virgil was checking Roman over the same way he had inspected Patton for injuries earlier, all gentle nudges and enquiring chuffs.

Not that one would have guessed listening to them. Roman yowled like he was being murdered for at least a solid half a minute after it became clear that there was no mauling going on. Patton pursed his lips, trying not to look too amused at the knight’s expense.

“He’s just checking on you,” he took the opportunity to say once Roman’s shouts had wound down to bewildered, rapid breathing. “He did the same to me, remember?”

Roman shot him a panicked, disbelieving glance from under his impromptu dragon-paw prison. “Yours was far less intensive than— than this!”

Patton shrugged. “Maybe he was just more worried because you were so sick for a while there?”

It made sense, when he thought about it. Virgil had always been a real mother hen whenever Patton so much as got the sniffles, and that was with a much smaller fraction of a dragon’s instinctual possessive worry. Patton had always endured his best friend’s neuroses about illness with as much patience as he could manage, but Roman hadn’t been willing to let Virgil do so much as a checkup once he’d woken up properly. Virgil’s pride wouldn’t let him insist on looking after the slayer after he was conscious enough to be kind of a jerk again, but not knowing the condition of someone he’d been responsible for had to be driving his friend crazy.

“Worried wasn’t really the impression I was getting from Virgil,” Roman gasped out, the tension in his frame slowly leaking away the longer he remained unharmed.

“Really?” Patton asked, a little surprised despite knowing his friend wasn’t exactly the open type. “Well, there’s your first lesson: Virgil’s always worried.”

The dragon in question glanced over at Patton a little sourly, and whuffled at Roman one last time before withdrawing, apparently entirely unapologetic for nearly scaring the soul out of their guest.

Roman lay on the ground for a moment longer, looking a little like he’d been struck by a runaway carriage. He sat up and patted himself down as though checking that he was still all in one piece.

He was, of course. Virgil sent him a slanted, disdainful look for thinking otherwise.

“Are you ready to give this a proper try, now?” Patton asked with an encouraging grin, reaching out to offer him a hand up.

Roman cleared his throat extensively, looking a little red around the ears, but ultimately accepted the help without much protest. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

This time, when he turned to survey Virgil’s draconic form, it was with more wary determination than outright fear.

“Very well,” he said, stepping forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

—

The third obstacle to their road trip was finding a place to stop for the night.

Not, as one might assume, because of a lack of safe or viable options on the ground below. No, it was convincing his companions to land at all that was proving to be the issue.

As it turned out, Roman’s fear of the flight had lasted for about as long as it took for Virgil to do his first midair spin, at which point he’d whooped with astounded delight so loudly that even folks on the next continent over had probably heard him.

“Gods above, you’re fast!” he’d gasped, clinging to Virgil’s leg as the land flashed by distantly below them. “There’s no way you could do that from higher up, though.”

It seemed Virgil was easier to goad than ever in this form, because he’d immediately taken a sharp incline, earning him yelps from his passengers. Between the two of them, the bulk of their flight was spent doing gravity-defying tricks and thrilling dives to just barely skim the mountains below.

Patton was glad they’d found something in common at last. He would have preferred they bond over a hobby that wasn’t so terribly dangerous and liable to make him so dizzy he upchucked, but beggars couldn’t be choosers!

He really was begging to reach land soon, though. Best friend or no, there was only so much strain a guy’s poor heart could take.

Plus, he’d plotted out their course with a little detour, and if they kept racing on like this, they might overshoot it completely. They were traveling all this way, it would be a downright shame if they couldn’t at least stop by and say hello to one of Virgil’s other buddies!

—

The fourth obstacle in their road trip was that Patton had forgotten just what kinds of acquaintances a Dragonwitch might have.

Or more importantly— what these acquaintances might think of the company Virgil was currently keeping.

This particular obstacle arrived at their camp that night in the form of an arm suddenly wrapping around Patton’s neck from behind, tugging him into a barely bearable chokehold as Virgil bolted to his feet and growled out a vicious warning.

Across from him, Roman was in a similar situation, but with a wicked-looking serrated blade pressed right up against his jugular, and a pair of unearthly yellow eyes visible over his shoulder.

“My, my,” a smooth voice broke the silence, making Virgil twitch. “I wonder what business a Faerin knight and his tagalongs have in my stretch of the woods?”

Uh oh. It looked like maybe their little detour would take longer than he’d expected…

#buobba #sanders sides fic #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #be unbroken or be brave again #my writing #writing #if i am missing tags. sory.

[feeder86]

Shame

Greg had been desperately in love with Bill. It was a head over heels, all encompassing, world-absorbing sort of love for him after they had met at a bear bar downtown one year ago. Bill had been older; quite a bit older in fact. However, that hadn’t been the quality that had raised the most eyebrows. Bill’s size, his enormous, giant belly and overall spherical shape had made people question what a good-looking twenty-one year old like Greg had seen in him. Sure, Bill was grumpy and not especially interested in many of the things that Greg was into, but he was good looking and beautifully fat. At almost four hundred pounds, Greg felt proud that Bill was usually larger than most other guys they met. He loved rubbing the enormous gut and admiring the hefty, thick butt on his man.

A ‘chubby chaser’; that was the phrase Bill always used to describe Greg and, for the most part, he was happy to go along with it. How else was a guy in his late forties going to score a sexy young guy like Greg unless he embraced the part of him that his lover found so unrelentingly appealing?

Greg was starting off on his career after college and, for the first time in his life, he actually had some real money in his bank account. He’d gone about dispersing it like there was no tomorrow, spending, spending, spending as much as he could to show Bill how special he was to him. No cute oversized shirt was bypassed when he went shopping and Bill often found himself returning home to find the refrigerator stocked with plenty of delicious snacks for him to eat.

In those days, Greg had been living in a small, tired-looking house at the edge of town. He managed to buy it outright, using an inheritance he’d had some time before, when he’d lost both of his parents in a car accident, back when he was first away at college. That had been tough. But, despite the circumstances, Greg knew he was lucky to have a place of his own at such a young age. Although, the joys of property maintenance were soon to find him. Within a couple of months of moving in, it was clear that the house was goign to need a lot of money spending on it. Greg knew nothing about DIY and his four hundred pound boyfriend was even less interested in helping him out. 

Jeff’s add in the local paper had caught Greg’s attention, mainly because of the cheap hourly rate he was offering. When he arrived at the door, Greg could definitely see why. Jeff was barely nineteen years old and trying to make a living in construction and as a general handyman. He had the look of a guy who had been a fair athlete in school; tall, broad-chested and with tight little glutes that pressed temptingly against the fabric of his cute work shorts. Like a dirty old man, Bill had been fast to point out how attractive he thought Greg’s new hired worker was. He sat on Greg’s couch, admiring the handsome boy’s physique as he strutted in and out of the house, back and forth to his van for more tools.

Trying to fight the urge to feel jealous and inadequate, Greg did his best to laugh along and go with it. After all, what harm could his boyfriend’s innocent crush on a nineteen year old straight guy really do? Plus, he had to admit, he’d developed quite the soft spot for Jeff himself, despite being quite some way off his usual ‘type’. Perhaps it was that handsome face, deep voice, pleasant manner and overall skill that he had in working with his hands. Whatever it was, as the time went on and Jeff spent more and more time at the house, Greg couldn’t deny that he’d been thinking about his handyman, rather than his actual boyfriend when they’d had sex on occasion. 

Things hadn’t lasted with Bill. For that, Greg blamed himself entirely. Bill had been quite clear when he said that he was fine with his size, but that he didn’t want to get any bigger. However, Greg simply hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d pampered and overcatered for his larger boyfriend until the inevitable pounds came piling on, bloating Bill to almost 450lbs before he finally had enough of Greg and ended things when he got offered the chance for a big career move.

To say that Greg had been heartbroken would have been the greatest of understatements. He remembered not being able to eat, not wanting to go outside and certainly not imagining any sort of future for himself. But time didn’t stop for a broken heart. Those desolate weeks of despair rolled on, turning to months and then years. Greg built his career and was soon thinking about moving from that poky little house he had once loved so much.

Choosing a new place that needed a little work didn’t phase Greg in the slightest. Knowing how well Jeff had worked last time, he hadn’t hesitated giving him a call the moment his offer had been accepted. Sure, the guy’s day-rate had gone up somewhat, given his experience and the demand for him around town, but there was no way that Greg could imagine anyone else doing it. When he turned up, that familiar, breathless attraction that Greg had felt a few years before came fluttering back. It seemed like the physical work had agreed with Jeff immensely. He had bulked up into a more muscular frame. His tight, glutes had morphed into a large, muscular butt and his enormous chest had become defined with bulging pecs and festooned by strapping shoulders. Greg’s eyes flared with interest when he caught sight of the large biceps Jeff had acquired, that pretty face only growing more handsome with age. 

Jeff was now well known around town and it was clear that Greg was unlikely to be the only homeowner with a crush on him. When they spoke, Jeff had been sad to learn that Greg and Bill hadn’t lasted long and seemed to remember the days of working on Greg’s first house with some fondness.

“I thought you two were very well suited,” the handsome guy smiled.

“Well, you were the only one then,” Greg chuckled. 

“You absolutely worshipped the ground he walked on,” Jeff continued, sympathetically.

“I think that was sort of the problem,” Greg sighed, remembering how frustrated Bill had become towards the end with Greg’s endless fussing and overfeeding of him.

“His loss,” Jeff smiled, giving Greg a quick, friendly slap on his back. “One day, I’m sure he’ll look back and realise how good he actually had it with you.”

Greg smiled too, remembering how his chats with Jeff had always made him feel better about himself. Jeff didn’t say things just to make others like him. As a foster kid, he seemed to relate to Greg better than most, given how they were both lacking in families as adults. Without a comforting safety net of a loving nest to return to when needed, they’d both had to develop that drive and independence that they each admired about the other. They both knew that life was only ever going to be what they themselves made of it.

Jeff had married about two years later. It had been a small affair, although Greg had seen a few pictures of the day online. His new wife had looked stunning, as had Jeff, dressed immaculately in a sharp suit that perfectly displayed his even more strapping and muscular physique. They could have both just strolled off a catwalk, and no doubt that others thought the same. Perhaps that was part of the reason why what happened next was such a shock.

Greg had known for some time that he wanted to get into the rental market. Owning somewhere he could let out just made so much financial sense, so of course he was on the phone to Jeff as soon as the deal was going through on a two-bedroom place downtown. From the moment the handsome guy climbed out of his truck, it was obvious that there had been some rather telling changes to the man’s lifestyle. From out of nowhere, Jeff was suddenly looking very husky indeed. His clothes, the work shorts and t-shirt, were obviously too small for him. The material across his chest showed how ruggedly strong and capable he was, yet it clung, rather unflatteringly, to a meatier middle where a six pack clearly hadn’t been for some time. As for his shorts, well they looked downright uncomfortable, pinching him at the hips and pressing so far in that they gave him lovehandles; actual lovehandles on a guy like Jeff! All the attraction Greg had ever had for Jeff suddenly paled in comparison to the burning lust that he felt now. Only in his mid twenties and already this superb, strong and overfed dadbod had kicked in!

They surveyed the house together, Greg happy to let Jeff lead the way so that he could stare at the enlarged, softer looking glutes; so much different to how they had been when Greg had first met the man. When Jeff bent down, Greg got an eyeful of his buttcrack too. Every item of clothing on his body seemed to be crying out in misery, unable to cope with the most likely thirty to forty pounds of fat that Jeff had gained since getting married.

“So, how is married life treating you?” Greg asked at long last, after all the boring rough costs were drawn up.

Jeff scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Greg frowned. “You sure?” he asked, sensing from Jeff’s sudden awkwardness that something wasn’t quite right.

“I’m just not used to being part of a couple,” Jeff began. “The wedding, getting married; it was all a bit of a whirlwind. As an adult, I’m not used to someone putting restrictions on what I can and can’t do. I’m used to being my own man.”

“Are you saying you find her a little bossy?” Greg asked.

“Not bossy so much…” Jeff replied, obviously still trying to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I’ve always been a bit of a lone rider. It was how I kept sane as a kid, going from foster home to foster home. She wants me to go to the gym with her all the time and she tries to keep tabs on what I’m eating. I just… I don’t like it. When I get home these days, I just want to crash on the couch and have a few beers; like most guys do.”

Greg nodded. “That seems fair enough.” Suddenly, Jeff's thicker, meatier stomach was starting to all make sense.

“I don’t know,” Jeff shrugged at last. “I know I’m pretty lazy around the house. I’m sure I must be hard to live with too.”

“You’ll work it out, I’m sure,” Greg offered consolingly.

Jeff nodded slowly, but the look on his face was strange; as if he didn’t really care; as if, after only a couple of years, the guy was already taking a step out the door of his marriage.

Having Jeff work on a place that wasn’t Greg’s home was a new experience for him. Jeff had kindly set aside six weeks and Greg planned to pop in each afternoon during a break from work, just to check on progress. He’d learned ways to keep Jeff happy during their previous projects and he arrived each time with Jeff’s favourite creamy latte. He kept a cookie jar in the house and was surprised to see that Jeff was easily going through an entire pack each day, leaving only crumbs in the bottom. No wonder the guy had been piling on the pounds, Greg thought to himself, trying to keep his attraction to Jeff under some sort of control. Having a crush on a straight guy was never going to lead anywhere, Greg knew. But the lust and the affection he’d developed for Jeff over the years was seeming to boil over into a monstrous adoration of him.

It was happening again. Greg’s crush was driving him to the same sticky place that he’d been to with his ex. He’d bought a refrigerator and filled it with sodas so that Jeff would always have something if he was thirsty. An old microwave was taken there and easy meals stuffed into the freezer, along with anything tasty the besotted Greg imagined the handy guy might like. He was being overbearing; he knew he was. But, for whatever reason, Greg just felt like he couldn’t help it. Then, whenever he popped over and saw so many of the supplies had been used up, he felt reinforced somehow; heading over to the store to pick up even more to restock it all.

By the end of the project, Greg noticed that Jeff’s face had seemed to change slightly. His cheeks were puffier and his jawline softer. It seemed like fat was actually spreading into his neck. He’d put on weight, no doubt about it.

“Well, I’m sure whoever rents this place off you is going to love living here,” Jeff stated, looking around the kitchen one final time and giving Greg a good look at his obviously thicker butt and fuller love handles. “This is exactly the sort of place I would have rented before I got married. Somewhere nice and quiet.”

Greg smiled, sensing that Jeff was still longing for that feeling of freedom and independence that he felt he had somehow lost. Perhaps, if Greg hadn’t already found someone to rent it, he may have quietly offered it to Jeff himself. But then again, maybe he would only have been sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

It was about eighteen months until Greg and Jeff spoke next. The guy’s name popped up on Greg’s cell phone as it rang, making his heart flutter with the lust that never seemed to leave him. Jeff had spotted another house downtown that he thought Greg might have been interested in as another rental; offering to meet him there to show him the place.

Like a lovesick puppy, Greg had jumped at the chance, feeling the blood pumping to his penis the entire time he was driving down there. Then, suddenly, Jeff was standing outside the property, waiting for him.

Safely inside his car, Greg growled in lustful appreciation. Jeff now looked even hotter than ever. Although not an extreme amount, it was obvious that Jeff was still continuing to put on weight. His little meaty stomach had seemed to solidify and push itself out more, forming a genuine little gut under his handsome pecs. The protrusion of it was quite clear, especially from the side, where the overall width of Jeff could be fully appreciated alongside the more developed ass on him. It was clear that he hadn’t been on a treadmill in quite some time.

Jeff had been right, the house had been undervalued, but even the rough quotes he was coming up with to do the place up seemed too good to be true. “But, this is at least three months’ work!” Greg gasped when he saw the ridiculously low amount Jeff was asking for to do it all.

“Well, truth is, I’m a little hard up at the moment. I need the work,” Jeff finally shrugged. “Never get married,” he sighed. “The divorce is unbelievably expensive!”

Greg offered his sympathies, although he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. However, it was exactly these types of cases where Greg also excelled, and he was soon launching into a pep talk to Jeff, explaining that he shouldn’t sell himself short just because he was a little strapped for cash. “I bet there are loads of ways we could make your business more profitable,” he went on, getting carried away. That old need to help Jeff wherever he could was always there. Now, as an accountant and business consultant, he really could offer something to the man that most people couldn’t.

“I can’t afford to hire someone else!” Jeff scoffed as he and Greg looked over his books a few nights later. 

“You’ll get jobs done faster and it means you can take on bigger projects,” Greg pressed on, having researched, in some detail, the business model he felt would work best for Jeff. “Find someone young and cheap. Someone just getting started. Then you can train them up and give them the sort of opportunity that you would have wanted, back in the day.”

Jeff hadn’t been convinced, but by the end of their second rental project together, another young guy, called Sam, had joined Jeff’s new team. Young, lanky and fresh-faced, the eighteen year old Sam had been surprisingly keen and dedicated to the opportunity he had been given. During that last week, the two of them had worked with incredible speed to get the house finished in time for a new tennant to take the place. That was even with the sweltering summer heat that boiled the rooms like an oven. 

Greg, who had been getting twitchy about the looming completion date, had been there every day, restocking the guys’ supplies and checking on progress. Overcome with the heat, a sweaty Jeff had been strutting around without a shirt for most of the week, sipping on the bottomless supplies of soda Greg provided. That firm, ball-like gut on the guy had come such a long way since Greg had first met the man eight years ago. His belly button had some real depth to it; a ripple of fat rolling through his love handles as he plodded lethargically about. It was clear that whatever Greg had assumed to be pecs hadn’t been so for quite some time. In reality, Jeff’s chest was surprisingly coated in fat; his nipples just about to beome more pointed and supple. In this state of undress, it was obvious how the fat was starting to wrap itself around Jeff’s body, spreading itself all over and softening the once athletic physique. Then there was that sweaty sheen all over his skin, the musky lure of an overfed man, hard at work. In other words, Greg had never been more aroused in his entire life.

By taking on Jeff’s financial work, Greg and Jeff were now in regular contact. Despite having so much knowledge on all things to do with building and repair work, Jeff had been missing out on so many opportunities to reduce his annual tax bill by simply just not knowing what he was entitled to. Jeff had been so grateful when his tax return came back in that he’d offered to take on a couple of days repair work at one of Greg’s properties, free of charge.

“I didn’t know you were hiring someone new?” Greg asked, stopping by to pick up some papers from Jeff as they worked on a project in the next town. He tried not to be distracted, watching Jeff eating his enormous sandwich as they returned to his truck for a second. The sight of Jeff eating had always done it for him; those enormous mouthfuls, the way he ripped into things and swallowed it all down with such speed. Back when he was so strapping and lean, it had seemed manly and purposeful. Now, however, it had been unmasked as pure, beautful greed.

“Well, things are going pretty well,” Jeff nodded. He’d developed a stoutness to him and a way of carrying himself that clearly identified him as the boss. His boyishness had gone entirely and the spherical bulge in his stomach seemed to be marching ever onwards. “Sam and I can’t handle all the work we’ve got coming in. Plus, Sam’s not quite as agile as he used to be.” With that, he nodded over at the worker, busily shoveling sand into the mixer. It was obvious what Jeff was referring to; the flabby looking love handles that were sneaking out of Sam’s tight t-shirt and the sweaty butt crack that was coming into view.

“I’m guessing you’ve not had a healthy influence on him then?” Greg joked.

“It seems not,” Jeff agreed, shaking his head with slight disapproval at the wider butt on his employee. “That’s exactly what his mom says as well. I mean, I know I overeat,” he admitted, rubbing his large stomach and ripping into even more of his sandwich. “I have a taste for pretty much everything that’s not good for me. But I was still pretty fit when I was his age,” he grumbled. “Anyway, the new guy seems to be working out well. He’s Sam’s younger brother, so I sort of know what I’m getting.”

Greg nodded, slipping his hand into his pocket to hold down the boner that he knew could potentially press itself against the crotch of his pants. He took the papers he needed and headed back to his car, trying to distract his mind, factoring in the new costs for Jeff’s growing business.

It was amazing how many people seemed to actively try to make Greg feel like a failure for reaching his early thirties and remaining single. He’d stayed fit and toned, so there was certainly no reason why people thought he should still be on his own. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but he had never been captured or overcome with love by any of the men he had dated. In fact, it was only ever Jeff who seemed to celebrate being a bachelor, and his enthusiasm for not being tied down in life was almost infectious. Everything he did seemed to be a celebration of being divorced: the way he ate what he wanted on site all day and how he didn’t care how scruffy he looked. He grinned, telling Greg that he was heading home to drink his beer, order take-out and sit on his ass all night watching football; as if he was living the dream.

At some point, Jeff had crossed the point from which he had been simply stout and overweight, to becoming something much more. Perhaps it was the sheer size of his stomach that had changed things; the way he carried the fat around his neck, or the total absence of the muscle that had once dominated his body. Maybe it was the way he walked now, or the constant presence of something tasty in his hands. It could have been the awkward fit of his clothes, or the width of his under exercised butt. But, whatever it was, it seemed like Jeff had become a very large man indeed. No matter the time of year, he wore sweat shorts that showed off his large calf muscles, well used to carrying around his hefty bulk. The lower sections of his belly frequently crept into view when he worked, along with his deep, always sweaty butt crack.

Jeff’s team had grown, in more ways than one. With Greg’s business advice and investment, the big man now hired a team of four other guys. Sam, who had been with him the longest, had become remarkably flabby and soft-looking, as had his younger brother. The two other guys hired by Jeff were both older and with more skills to bring to the business. They were both married and in their early thirties. When Greg had met them initially, he had been surprised by how much their athletic bodies contrasted and highlighted how large and obese their boss had become. Now, however, even they seemed to be getting rather thick around their middles; as if simply working with greedy Jeff led to an inevitable weight gain.

“These books are looking very healthy!” Greg smiled, seeing how much money Jeff’s blossoming business was taking in; even with the very generous wages he paid his workers. 

Jeff nodded, chewing on his third doughnut from the box that Greg would always remember to bring with him whenever he met up with Jeff each month. He knew full well that there would not be a single one left within ten minutes, and that he would probably have to hide his crotch as a result. The big man had arrived, showing off his enormous new truck which he hadn’t yet littered with take-out cartons and boxes, nor dirtied with mud and dust.

“So where do we go next?” Jeff asked, mumbling with his mouth full. “All I seem to do these days is price up quotes for people. It’s insane how much work is coming in.”

“Well, that’s exactly what we want,” Greg smiled keenly. “The business needs to evolve like this now. We’re hiring more guys, so it’s time for you to become more of the overseer of things. And, maybe in a few months, we could even hire someone to take over the admin around these quotes for you.”

“Jeez!” Jeff chuckled. “I already take home more money than I ever anticipated each month and now it sounds like I’m going to be able to sit on my fat ass full time!”

“Well, that’s my plan!” Greg smiled, delighted with how far he had helped Jeff take his business in the seven years since he had worked as the business manager. “We want to make sure this company gives you a solid income for years to come and allow you some time to enjoy yourself a little more.”

Jeff paused for a moment. “You know, no one has ever done more for me than you have,” he stated. Greg had been the first person he’d asked to invest in his business and their fifty/fifty shared ownership had been nothing but harmonious. “Your house was the first major project I took on when I was nineteen. I never imagined that we would still be working together after all these years. You’ve really looked after me.”

Greg smiled at the sentiment. “We look after each other,” he offered in return. “You’ve trusted me every step of the way. There’s no way I would have all this,” he explained, looking around the plush office space he occupied, “without all the business clients you sent my way over the years.”

Jeff seemed to consider Greg’s comments. “Yeah, I guess you could say that we have each other’s backs,” he nodded in agreement. Then he smiled at Greg; his friend and best adviser. It was an affection that neither of them had ever before encountered in their work lives.

Having spent the majority of his adult life alone, Greg knew that the time had come for him to settle down with someone. As much as he listened to Jeff going on and on about how delighted he was to be living the single life, the reality for Greg was… loneliness. He felt like Ebenezer Scrooge, counting up his money and coming home to a cold, empty house every evening. For the first time ever, he accepted a work acquaintance’s offer to set him up on a blind date and, when that went well, he suddenly found himself slowly rolling into a real relationship for the first time since he was in his early twenties. 

On paper, Steve was the perfect guy for him, sharing all of his interests and sense of humour. He was attractive, athletic, being of a similar age, in his mid thirties, and very much financially stable. Everyone in Greg’s life found him to be delightful. They commented on how well suited they both were, how Greg had seemed to come to life whenever Steve was around. And, for the most part, Greg absolutely agreed, even though he knew that spark hadn’t been there for him initially. In fact, within Greg’s entire circle, there was only one person who didn’t seem to approve of Steve…

“That fat asshole tried to call over and see you before,” Steve grumbled, putting away some of the things Greg had brought back from the supermarket. “Something about how he’s sorted the new digger,” he went on. “Why he couldn’t just message you, I have no idea.”

“He drives by here on the way home,” Greg explained. “He finds it easier to just call in and let me know things like that. I hope you were polite?” he asked, warningly.

“I was… courteous,” Steve considered. “It’s hard though. As soon as he saw it was me answering the door he pulled this face and rolled his eyes. I’ve never come across someone so fucking rude in my entire life!” “He wouldn’t have meant to be rude,” Greg tried. “He was probably just tired.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was tired,” Steve agreed. “I think anyone would be exhausted lugging that massive gut of his around all day.” He shuddered in disgust. “It was even hanging out a little from the bottom of his t-shirt today. Like… does the guy never look in a mirror? Still, at least he was wearing a shirt today, I guess,” he mumbled, pretending to suppress the urge to gag.

Greg grumbled inside. Steve was so great in many different ways, however he seemed to have a strange, zero-tolerance towards those he considered to be not looking after themselves. “Maybe this is why Jeff isn’t very fond of you,” Greg replied, deciding not to be upset that two of the most important guys in his life looked set to clash for the rest of their lives.

“How’s the jerk?” Jeff asked, leaning back against the kitchen cupboard of an empty house he had brought Greg over to see as a potential new acquisition for their shared property rental empire. “You haven’t asked him to move in yet, have you? You know that’s just a slippery slope?”

Greg sighed. He was sick of feeling like the go-between. “We’re not moving in together,” he stated reassuringly for Jeff. He listened a little longer as Jeff explained how rude Steve had been to him the last time they had to be in the room together. It was the complete opposite of the story as told by Steve, but Greg had long since given up trying to work out which of them was lying; deciding that they both exaggerated and stretched the truth. “Look, I know you don’t like Steve and that’s not going to change. But… isn’t it enough for you that I love him?”

Jeff’s face filled with an unexpected smile. “I would be totally on-board if I believed that you loved him. Believe me, I’d be backing you one hundred percent if I thought that was the case.”

“But I do love him,” Greg shot back. “We’ve been together almost a year.”

Jeff shook his head in complete refusal. “No… I’ve seen you in love. I remember how you were when I first met you. You were besotted with Bill in a way that I’ve never seen with anyone else before.”

“I was a naive twenty-one year old!” Greg chuckled back. “Of course I was head over heels in love with the guy.”

“So, what? Now we’re older we don’t get to have those feelings anymore? Now you just have to settle for Mr Generic?”

“He’s not generic!” Greg sighed, sick of hearing Jeff using that word to describe his boyfriend.

“I remember thinking what a lucky guy Bill was. The way you looked at him like he was the centre of your universe. Even when I saw Bill getting fatter and fatter, you were still all over him. You didn’t care about any of his faults, you just loved him for who he was; completely. I thought that I would get that when I got married. But, no, I just got nagged to death and put on one insane diet after another. You never would have done that with Bill.”

“No, but… all couples have different priorities,” Greg tried to reason. “I really don’t think you should use that one experience as a reason to be on your own for the rest of your life.”

“I’m fat, super-greedy and extemely lazy,” Jeff stated bluntly, rubbing his giant stomach at the same time. “When I was younger, I used to think the gym was the best place on Earth. Now I order take-out at least five times a week, I can eat an entire cheesecake to myself in one sitting, currently weigh over 420lbs and dislike most forms of exercise. Who is going to look at me and not want to change any of those things?”

Greg stood silent for a moment. Perhaps it was his weariness at the whole situation that made his inhibitions retreat, but after eighteen years of lusting after Jeff, perhaps it was no surprise. Jeff was right. He didn’t love Steve. Not in the way he had loved Jeff for all these years. “I wouldn’t,” he whispered.”I’d love you no matter what.”

Jeff held Greg’s stare, seeming to appreciate the momentousness of what had been said. He inhaled, then sighed, shaking his head. “I think we’re both just tired,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought Steve up. Let’s just check in tomorrow to make a decision about this place,” he rambled, already starting to walk away; the shoddy floorboards creaking under his massive bulk.

Greg looked down, feeling more dejected than he had even been in his entire life.

“Let’s have a working lunch and thrash out how we want to approach the house purchase,” a surprisingly upbeat Jeff announced, coming into Greg’s office the next day. It was clear from his appearance that he wasn’t working with the other guys that morning, dressed as he was in an overly tight shirt that he clearly hadn’t had the opportunity to wear in the last fifty pounds or so. “Come on. What do you say? I am your most important business partner after all.”

Greg smiled, relieved that Jeff was putting in an effort to make him feel at ease after his confession the evening before. Jeff didn’t need to ask him to cancel his other appointments; Greg would have done anything to settle their awkwardness; absolutely anything.

“I love this place,” Jeff smiled, inhaling the grease in the air and looking around at the dated decor as they sat beside each other at the main counter. “I come here all the time. It’s the best food going.”

Greg couldn’t exactly see the appeal as he looked around the haggard looking restaurant and felt the greasy countertop under his fingertips. “If you love it, I love it,” he smiled, pleased to see Jeff looking so in his element.

“What do you think I should order?” the big man asked Greg, passing over the large laminated menu; the drinks section partially obscured by dried tomato sauce.

As soon as Greg started reading, he could see why Jeff loved it so much here. He started listing off the things he knew Jeff loved and found the fat man’s enthusiasm starting to rub off on him. He poured through the side orders and had suddenly constructed a large combination of dishes that he believed Jeff would enjoy that lunchtime.

“You really think I can eat all that?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

Greg scoffed. “Who are you kidding?” he chuckled. “That’s a light snack for you!”

At that, Jeff smiled too. A large, broad and genuine smile that filled his fattened, rounded face. “This is Greg, my business manager,” he explained later to an older waitress who came over to collect their order. It seemed that she knew Jeff extremely well from his many visits here, and she showed a genuine interest in meeting Greg. “Marla’s been here for years,” Jeff went on, smiling with affection towards the older lady, as if she had become a long lost mother figure for him.

“Jeff is my favourite customer,” the lady smiled back, putting her thin arm over Jeff’s broad back and rubbing it briefly. She didn’t bat an eyelid at the amount of food he was ordering and seemed to know exactly how the obese glutton would want it all cooked. 

“Marla’s great!” Jeff went on after the lady had disappeared into the kitchens. “I used to come here after the gym, even before I got married.”

“Wow, she really has known you a long time!” Greg agreed.

“After I got married, I used to come here a lot more of course, just to get out of the house.”

“That sounds stressful.”

Jeff nodded. “That was when I first started putting on weight. My wife used to hate that. She would point it out all the time to me; try to embarrass me in front of her friends. In the end, I stopped caring. I ate what I wanted just to piss her off. Fuck the six pack and the jawline! What’s the point in making yourself miserable in denying yourself the things that you enjoy?”

“I quite agree,” Gred nodded. He had always found Jeff’s enormous appetite and attitude towards eating whatever he liked to be such an attractive quality.

“It’s quite thrilling you know,” Jeff continued, even as Greg expected him to change the conversation. “Putting on so much fat after training so hard in the gym; losing all that definition… It was quite a change for me.”

“Yeah, I remember…” Greg agreed, remembering how much more attracted he had felt to Jeff once the weight had started to pile on and transform him.

“You can spend months in the gym just trying to pack on just a tiny bit of muscle. But you can gain fat and find your pants don’t fit in just a matter of weeks. I’ve seen it time and time again with all the guys I’ve hired over the years.”

Greg chuckled and nodded in agreement. He’d certainly witnessed that first hand as well.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is… I kinda like being this way,” Jeff admitted, rubbing his large gut tenderly. “And… if I was to ever be with someone again, I would, sort of, want them to enjoy me being this way too.”

A natural pause came in the conversation when some of Jeff’s dishes already started arriving. Greg simply adored the way the fat man’s face lit up when surrounded by food, and he chuckled with admiration.

“Have you ever told Steve how big your ex-boyfriend used to be?” Jeff asked next.

“That was… over fifteen years ago!” Greg mumbled in reply.

“So… that’s a ‘no’ then,” Jeff shot back, sounding disappointed as he threw in another forkful of food.

“I don’t think Steve would… understand,” Greg went on, suddenly feeling very awkward indeed.

“That’s because he’s an asshole,” Jeff stated frankly, pulling no punches. “He’s a sizist. He looks at me like I’m a piece of shit.” He exhaled, grumpily, seemingly cross with Greg. “You should have told him about Bill; about how you like bigger guys. It pisses me off so much that you’re even with a guy like that!”

“Why? What does all that even matter to you?” Greg asked, perplexed and feeling as if he had suddenly been cornered.

“Because you told me last night that if you and I were together, you wouldn’t try to change me!” he roared, sounding as if this had been pressing against his very large chest for a long, long time. “You told me that you would let me be exactly who I am. Yet, there you are, living with a boring guy who you’re not even attracted to and letting him get away with his snide little comments about fat guys like me. You haven’t told him that you’re attracted to larger men because you think it’s weird; because you know he will judge you for it. But I need someone who is all in on this one,” he finished, grabbing a wedge of his belly fat and jiggling it. “Being fat is who I am now.”

Greg exhaled, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his whole life. He felt hurt, confused and deeply misunderstood. “You’re only saying all this because I never told you what actually happened between Bill and I. You seem to be under the impression that I had some sort of epic love affair with him.” He sighed, deciding it was time to say it out loud at long last. “Bill left me all those years ago because I used to overfeed him,” he began to explain. “I tried to convince myself that I couldn’t help it; that I was just spoiling him and loving him too much. But, the truth was, I was enjoying seeing him getting fatter. I liked witnessing his belly growing and being responsible for it. I remember, I even used to put cream in his coffee and butter-up everything I cooked for him. I was… a selfish dick. I was a monser!” he sighed. “And it came back to bite me in the ass. In the end, Bill knew he had to get away from me. That’s why I’ve stayed single all these years. I was ashamed. You’re the only one who has ever brought it out in me since. I only allowed myself to spoil you when you were first getting fat. I made sure you were pumped full of soda and snacks whenever you worked for me. I’ve tried my best to keep a lid on it all this for years. That’s why I have never told Steve about what I did. That’s why I’m even settling for a guy like him.”

Jeff shrugged, heaving a great sigh and lowering his voice, becoming calm and relaxed. “But that’s just it. I don’t want someone who keeps a lid on things.” He turned slightly on the stool and put his large hand on Greg’s thigh. “I want you to be completely yourself with me; like you were with Bill. And, when I get fatter - which I will do,” he smirked. “I want us both to enjoy that.”

Greg smiled and rested his hand on top of Jeff’s, delighted that the man did not recoil, but grabbed it and held it lovingly. “You mean that?” he asked, overwhelmed with the turn of events.

Jeff nodded. Greg suddenly realised that the look of respect and admiration in Jeff’s eyes was actually love. Unbeieveably, Jeff wanted this as much as he did.

“May I touch your belly?” Greg asked, suddenly overcome with lust for the situation and opportunity he found himself in.

Jeff smiled and leaned back; looking around to check if anyone could see them in the incredibly quiet restaurant. Then he lifted his shirt a few inches, grabbed Greg’s hand and made it pinch the blubber that had flowed over the waistband of his pants.

Greg moaned. He couldn’t help himself, and Jeff chuckled, looking around; grinning like they were both naughty school children. “Want to make it bigger?” he asked playfully, seeing Marla approaching them with another of Jeff’s dishes.

Greg nodded and instinctively knew what he was to do. “Can we get some more cheesy fries and another chocolate fudge milkshake for Jeff?” he asked Marla. “Oh, and some more chicken wings.”

Marla took the order and trotted away. Jeff’s eyes were dancing with delight, his smile wider than Greg had ever seen it. As much as the guy had protested about loving the single life, it was clear in that moment that he had actually been waiting a very long time for someone to embrace this hidden side of him.

“Did I do okay?” Greg asked playfully.

“I think you’ll do just nicely,” Jeff agreed, leaning in for their very first kiss.

[yanderes-galore]

May I request a yandere scarecrow concept?

Please and thank you!

You requested no specific version of Scarecrow so I kept it general. So this takes from no specific comic, series, movie, or game. Defaulted to romantic to make things easier. This feels a bit lame but I struggled to figure out where to take this without repeating myself.

This one certainly dips into more sadistic horror territory... perfect for Halloween, lol.

However, I did use this lore video.

General Yandere! Scarecrow Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Sadism, Manipulation, Violence/Canon-typical violence, Drugging, Forced affection under the influence mention, Kidnapping, Psychological torture, Forced relationship (?)

The most basic understanding of Jonathan Crane is he's a man that takes sadistic pleasure in the fear of others.

He uses his fear toxin to manipulate those who inhale it, making them see nightmares.

All hallucinations for the most part, but in mass quantities it can be deadly.

Since this is no specific version, I can't find a specific plot for this concept to take place.

However, maybe you were a patient of his at some point or some poor hero he decided to target.

Crane seems like he'd be very manipulative of you due to his toxin.

How he feels towards you, no matter how you meet, is he sees you as another victim.

Another person to manipulate and leech off of with his fear toxin.

Yet over time, as his obsession takes place, he starts to see the beauty of your fear.

What Crane usually does is drug others up on his toxin before torturing them for his own pleasure.

With you, it's different.

When it comes to you Crane just wants to observe you scramble about in complete hysteria.

The sight fills him with a new craving.

He likes that you seem so helpless and at his mercy.

It satiates yet another sadistic desire in him.

He may even interpret as you needing him to rely on.

After all, he's the only one who can make the drugs stop!

I feel the core behavior of a Yandere! Scarecrow would be him making you compliant with his fear toxin.

You have no idea where you are or what's real and the fear that's radiating off you is delicious to him.

Crane shows up as you own personal devil.

That or some sort of comfort in your nightmares, depending on how he feels.

The end goal is certainly to manipulate you into needing him for one reason or another.

Messing with your mind enough may just achieve that goal.

Really the only one that can save you from this situation is Batman himself.

Crane would get distracted by Batman due to him being the only one that scares him.

Which means Batman can scoop your disoriented body up and flush the toxin out of you once you're safe and out of Crane's reach.

Your first meeting would be through this way no doubt.

Crane decides to pick you to play around with, only to be interrupted by Batman ruining the fun.

Crane ends up developing a need to find you.

He finds your fear appealing, you look so cute in your fearful state.

To watch you scampering for help is joyful to him.

When he pretends to play your savior through your nightmares is funny to him as you stare at him with dazed eyes.

It's a shame Batman ruined such a new feeling.

Oh well... he'll find you again at some point.

Well... he does!

Many times, actually.

This is what develops his obsession.

This urge... this need to manipulate you into needing him drives him.

He wants to drag you into a never-ending pit of fear.

Yet he also wants to cage you in his arms and never let go, like a monster digging its claws into its prey.

Crane's obsession appears like it would be primarily sadistic in nature.

At least... that's how I see him based on what I've seen.

In a way he begins to care for you but overall finds you more appealing under his toxin.

The more he gets his hands on you, the more he finds sadistic pleasure in you pleading for him to help you.

He falls in love with the way you turn to him.

He can't help but reach out and hold you as you shiver, cry, and scream due to the toxin.

It's all a melody he loves, he almost wants to lean in and kiss you while you struggle.

He may just do it.

Crane is one who grows more attracted to you when you're afraid.

Call it a... kink of sorts I suppose.

The idea of restraining you comes to mind.

He alters doses of the toxin to make sure you don't hurt yourself.

If he wanted to hurt people, he can choose others.

When it comes to you he just likes to watch you scared.

In his eyes he plans to become close to you... close enough to be a lover in his eyes.

I say in his eyes as to you... he's your captor and torturer.

He hunts you down specifically.

To the point he's just chosen to lock you away to inhale toxins all day.

You're terrified in general... but even more of him.

While you suffer hallucinations and your mind betraying you, Crane sees you as a partner.

The man has a sick interest in you, occasionally kissing and holding you while you hallucinate.

Maybe there's times he relents and lowers your dosage... but for the most part, he's in it for the fear.

Maybe he'll even grow to love you without the toxin in your system.

For the most part, Crane's obsession involved indulging in his fear filled fantasies with you.

It's unknown if he's fallen for you... or your fear.

It's hard to see him as caring yet he cares about you to some degree.

For one reason or another... the Scarecrow has fallen for you...

Once he finds you... he doesn't plan on letting you breathe another breath of fresh air if it means he'll see your beautiful fear all of the time... for as long as he wishes.

#yandere dc #yandere dc comics #yandere dc villains #yandere jonathan crane #yandere scarecrow

[artsyhamster]

Part 3!

And oh boy, this one definitely needs explanation, so see you down in the ramblings.

(1) THE FOOL / THE MAGICIAN / THE HIGH PRIESTESS  | (2) THE EMPRESS / THE EMPEROR / THE HIEROPHANT | (3) THE LOVERS / THE CHARIOT / STRENGTH | (4) THE HERMIT / WHEEL OF FORTUNE / JUSTICE | (5) THE HANGED MAND | DEATH | TEMPERANCE | (6) THE DEVIL / THE TOWER / THE STAR | (7) THE MOON / THE SUN / JUDGMENT / THE WORLD         

I gotta be real, this is my least favorite set so far. I was very unsure about the characters I chose for these and it also shows in the compositions. I might redo them at some point but I want to finish the major arcana as a whole first, before I lose myself in revisions. Maybe I shouldn’t be too harsh on myself anyway, because this is just a fun project but, ah, perfectionism.

Anyway, citations from here, as always.

THE LOVERS - Actually means that the protag feels sexual urge or need for relationship. Harry basically flirts with everyone and is still hung up on his broken relationship, that he doesn’t even remember, so the meaning here is pretty warped. So I just chose some lover figures. But who to choose? Klaasje and Lely? Well their relationship gets known pretty late, and didn’t end very nicely. Also I do not know how Lely looks like as not-a-corpse so-- Klaasje and Ruby? Seemed to me more like a fling, and didn’t interest Harry much except for some lecherous line he dropped. So I chose Sylvie and Garte, because Harry actively gets involved in their business. He can help them get together or ultimately break their relationship before it could ever bloom (Shoutout to the cock carousel) so I chose them because Harry is the most involved here.

THE CHARIOT - I’m just gonna quote for a bit “The Chariot represents the vigorous ego that is the Fool's crowning achievement so far. (...) we see a proud, commanding figure riding victoriously through his world. He is in visible control of himself and all he surveys.” Not many people with horses around there in Martinaise, only people driving cars. None of the lorry drivers fir the description for me though. The chariot is also described as commandeering and rigid, and René fit the description for me the most. He is definitely a proud person, commandeering and strict, and also surveying the world around him from his booth up at the harbour. Otherwise, yeah I got nothing. This one was just hard lol

STRENGTH - “[The fool] is pressed to develop his courage and resolve and find the heart to keep going despite setbacks.” was a line that made me very desperately want to choose Kim here, but I had other plans for him already. Strength is part of the Virtues trio, and spoiler spoiler, Kim will get his place as one of the three Virtues, but this one goes to Cuno, because I feel he is also very influential on Harry. Another quote for the card is “The Fool also discovers the quiet attributes of patience and tolerance.“ which I think fits Cuno quiet well. Because boy do you need a lot of patience and tolerance with him to make him trust and help you. But ultimately he is also there in the end if you need him (and Kim is unfortunately not present) All in all, what could make you want to get your shit together more than escaping the mocking words of a potty-mouthed kid. Horrifying lol

I tried really hard okay. I’m sure there are other interpretations but that’s the best I could come up with.Meanwhile I also bought an art book of a really pretty tarot set I saw at the last convention I was at, and there were so many lovely compositions that almost made me question what I am doing here. But again, I’m doing these for fun [*self prep talk*]. Still, take a look at this magnificient tarot deck (Instagram Link) I’m so sad they were sold out, but at least I got the art book.

Uhhh anyway enjoy. Next set will be better I promise. I like the upcoming one a lot : )

#Disco elysium #disco elysium fanart #tarot #uhhhh i dont feel like tagging them all

[adainesfroggieboggy]

siobhan thompson appreciation post because her characters just make me so happy and they're so. good. she's so good at characters! spoilers for every intrepid heroes season of d20. i could do a whole other post about her sidequest characters bc they're so good.

Adaine Abernant. The Elven Oracle. She's always been one of my absolute favorite characters ever. Her anxiety representation in the first season makes me feel more seen, understood, and represented than any other character ever. She's literally so cool! She starts freshman year as an awkward nerd and becomes a cool nerd! Her anxiety never goes away, but the medication makes it manageable. She hates her parents because they're awful! Just the rep of having awful parents and hating them and that's okay because they suck! You should hate your parents if they suck as bad as the Abernants! Not everyone gets a redemption arc. If they suck, they suck.

Misty/Rowan. Misty is the perfect representation of an old lady who gives no fucks. She flirts so hard with that guy at the pixie wedding. She openly admits to having been friends with John Wilkes Booth. But at the same time? Will not give her age. A lady never tells. She's absolutely ancient and doesn't fucking care, but she also has this undertone of absolute existential panic because she needs adoration to survive! She stays relevant because she has to! Don't get me started on Rowan. I have a crush on Rowan Berry. She's reborn and immediately starts flirting with Pete, which is iconic in its own right. She's a bard who gives bardic inspiration by either flirting or complimenting, and sometimes the lines blur just a little bit. Absolute queen shit. She defeats the queen of Faerie and has no desire to go back until the Fae court tells her hey. You left us with no leader. And then brings democracy to Faerie! President Rowan!

Ruby Rocks! She starts the season as a kid who loves her sister just so much. That's the most integral part of her character. She's a princess and a rogue, and she loves her sister. She has a lot of development over the season! She ends as a woman who fights for her family and her country. She hates Saccharina when they first meet, a new sister on the tails of the loss of the most important person she's ever had. After Jet's death, she's overcome with grief and takes a level of shadow sorcerer because of it! Her development is amazing, a truly wonderful arc.

Iga Lizowski! Oh. My. God. She's the first pc that is a mom in d20, or at least in the Intrepid Heroes. Her relationship with her kids is so fun to watch, from urging Jessica to engage with the chest to bringing her into another part of the Unsleeping City. Then Nick, who she hadn't pressed at all to take responsibility for the chest, decides to become another defender of his family's magic! Not only is she an amazing mother, she's a fortune teller by trade! She knows full well that everything she does has merit, and that magic is real, but makes it all seem like a lie to cater to her clientele. It's not her intention to become a part of the Dream Team, but when her family is threatened, she fights like hell. Also she has a pseudodragon that's just a magical chihuahua and that's so old ladycore it's such a perfect choice.

Riva. They're just on their gallivant, honestly. They decorate their psychodrone with magnets. They're trying to sell pleasure putty. They make their own hours, but they don't know how. Riva is sweet and fun and naive. They love their friends and they love the outside world and they're having a great ass time on their gallivant.

Rosamund. Du. Prix. Quick little shoutout to Siobhan's princess voice because no joke she did my favorite accent. It borders on transatlantic (my favorite accent) but is very Disney princess. She starts as a Disney princess, too! To have a character looking for her true love wake up, search for him, and ultimately sacrifice her chance at having him is *mwah* beautiful. True love isn't real! She directly confronts this, and a member of her party is living proof of it. She has to see the prince who came to save her, and upon meeting him, she realizes how fucked the idea is. He kisses her once and that's all? She doesn't know him, she doesn't love him. How can she live happily ever after with him? Her story is about having things happen to her, but she wrenches the pen from the authors' hands and writes her fucking own! Once upon a time, there was a princess who tried speed dating!

#fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #the unsleeping city #the unsleeping city spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #a crown of candy spoilers #a crown of candy #a starstruck odyssey #dimension 20 neverafter #neverafter #neverafter spoilers #adaine abernant #rowan berry #misty moore #ruby rocks #iga lisowski #riva #rosamund du prix

[seafoamreadings]

week of november 26th, 2023

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: it is a relationships week for you, friend. if you're in a long distance situation it may move closer somehow, or vice versa. it echoes old fears and joys. make the conscious choice about which patterns to keep and which to discard.

taurus: your vibe of the week is soul mate stuff, including but not limited to romantic soul mates and big twin flame vibes. try to keep your wits about you as you enjoy the heady cocktail of venusian nodal activity; some bad habits might be tempted to arise. only follow them if you really really want to.

gemini: the first half of your week is vibrantly influenced by a full moon, focused on your relatlionships between yourself and others. it may be fun and sociable or chaotic and disruptive but by the end of the week you have a clearer picture of where you are, what you want, and how great the chasm between. or are you already over there?

cancerians: the full moon at the start of the week would have you in a gym or making a healthy meal, with the equipment or the kitchen as a holy temple. by the end of the week you're engaged in a serious, hopefully not too heavy conversation with a partner or potential one.

leo: spend a while this week getting your schedule and finances in order. take concrete steps to pay down debt if you have it, or if you have debts owed to you it's good to be generous about them at this time.

virgo: monastic life beckoning as it sometimes does to you? just infuse a little bit, a small dosage, into your life. resist the urge to run off and join a convent or a strange magical order. mundane life really does need you.

libra: some weeks are sparklier than others. this one is more of a radioactive glow, which is probably less your speed. very "pretty but deadly" vibes which you *can* embody to your benefit, but don't let them otherwise be used against you, as you're also susceptible at this time to such charms.

scorpio: your powers are subtle this week. you have a penetrating gaze. it makes people uncomfortable. but if you look away, you're letting people off the hook. sometimes that's what you want! if it's not, then make all the eye contact you want. they won't be able to quite place why they seem to have fallen under your spell.

sagittarius: mercury at the critical degree at the end of your sign and moving into early capricorn involves some aspects that can really bring down your mood overall this week. a full moon may or may not help. shift things in a helpful direction by really taking good care of yourself, like you were a sweet little baby who needs the fuss.

capricorn: early this week a full moon inspires you to put real effort into yourself, a bodily and spiritual glow up if you will. mercury then moves into your sign making you charming and eloquent. you are the magician of the tarot this week.

aquarius: while it's decidedly a not-very-aquarian week at the moment the air vibes all around can still certainly be leveraged to your advantage. you have good fortune in love, romance, creativity, philosophy, and academic progress.

pisces: highly mutable vibes normally don't shake you but this week is so mutable as to almost knock you off your feet. or it would, if you weren't already floating off in the ether somewhere. when you look back down you may suddenly develop a fear of heights. but it's okay, you always land gracefully.

#astrology #horoscopes #weekly horoscopes #horoscope #weekly horoscope #signs #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces