#HIS BEARD AND HIS HAIR AND HIS EYELINER................................

[saltpepperbeard]

giggling kicking my legs twirling my hair blushing etc etc [x]

[orderforbrian]

and the winner for most fucking DECIMATING burn in the entire history of magnus pod goes to alice

[Start ID: Three panel comic from The Magnus Protocol. First panel is in full color, the rest in black and white. First panel: Alice sits with a hand on her chin, smirking and says "Whiny little toad". She is a half black woman with curly, dark orange hair down to her shoulders, brown eyes, freckles, and a gap tooth. She has red/purple eyeshadow and thick eyeliner on, as well as a gold nose ring. She wears a dark green collared shirt with stripes and golden star and moon designs on the collar and center of the shirt. Second panel: Martin looks up in absolute offended shock, his mouth hung open. He is a fat mixed Polish/Korean man with short hair, browline glasses and a beauty mark under his lip. He wears a simple sweater. Jon stands behind him with his arms crossed and does a terrible job to hide a snort of laughter. He is a thin Persian man with long curly hair pulled back into a half knot, a beard and mustache, and wears a simple cardigan with a turtleneck. Third panel: Martin shoots Jon an utterly fuming, rageful glare for laughing at the comment. Jon is turned away with one hand leaned up against an imaginary wall and the other on his hip, and starts whistling nonchalantly like he did no such thing. End ID.]

[thegainingdesk]

Two Night Stand

Just as Howard had guessed, the young man was loitering in the changing rooms when he entered. He'd seen the slim man watching him his entire set, changing from treadmill to elliptical to standing bike to keep a clear eyeline to Howard at all times.

Howard wasn't surprised, exactly. He'd found that he attracted more than a fair few men as he'd put on weight these past few years, and the gym was the perfect place to show off his developing figure. He couldn't exactly boast a powerlifter build, per se, but he had enough muscle underneath all the fat that he could show off how much weight he could lift, and enough to keep most of his fat in a firm, round gut at his center with comparatively less flab elsewhere on his body. Coupled with a thick dark beard and a thick pelt of coarse body hair, he often had twinks lining up for the opportunity to call him ‘daddy’; not something he was thrilled about at the grand age of thirty-four, but also not something he was in a rush to correct anyone wanting to fuck him over.

Howard made a show of getting changed and faced out into the changing rooms towards the young man, giving him a clear view of the spectacle. He lifted his shirt up slowly, allowing the hem to drag itself up over the curve of his gut, revealing the dark swirls of hair covering the mound of fat and his deep belly button. Once the shirt slid off his gut and Howard pulled it over his head, he looked over to see the man looking directly at him. He winked and the man hurriedly looked away; Howard made sure to maintain eye-contact, making sure to catch him each time he gave another quick glance. Howard reached down and hefted his gut a few times before reaching down further and giving his package a squeeze; that caught the man's attention alright, and this time he held his gaze, staring intently at Howard's gut.

“Not getting changed yourself then?” Howard called across the changing room.

The young man swallowed hard, before lifting up his shirt to reveal a tight, thin torso, with the faint outline of a six pack and a fine dusting of hair. He was about Howard's height, just slightly shorter than average, but more wiry than Howard had ever been, with prominent ribs and collar bones, and a prominent Adam's apple. Despite his short height, he was so thin he almost looked lanky. He was handsome, Howard thought; dark blond hair, a crooked smile and a nose that looked like it had been broken and not set properly at some point. “Just catching my breath,” the man replied.

Howard smirked and bent to pull down his shorts. He tried to make it sexy, but honestly, these days it was a struggle just to bend down around his gut and his shorts caught on his thick thighs, making him shimmy them down unceremoniously. By the time he stood back up, panting softly, the young man’s long erection was tenting his own shorts obviously.

Howard reached down and adjusted his balls in his boxers, partly for show, partly genuinely for comfort. “Fancy joining me in the showers?” he said casually. “I’m finding I've been getting really sweaty recently.” He felt himself growing hard. He knew he'd lost a few inches to his expanding fat pad, and he'd not been able to see his own cock under his gut for years, but he knew he still boasted an impressive manhood.

“I uhh… okay.” The man's voice came out high-pitched and strained. He coughed and tried again, deeper this time. “Yes, I mean. I'd like that.”

“I'm Howard,” Howard introduced himself as he walked past the man and around the corner to the showers.

“Guy,” the man answered. Howard could hear him follow behind him obediently.

“Nice to meet you Guy,” Howard said, turning on one of the shower heads and pulling his pants off. He handed them to Guy, who held them, dumbstruck for a moment, before lifting them up to his face and sniffing deeply. “You like this gut, Guy?”

Guy nodded, not taking Howard's boxers away from his face. His eyes were trained downwards; Howard knew that from this angle, his gut covered his crotch almost entirely, so he must be staring at his fat.

Howard stepped back into the stream of water, and rivulets began to flow over his tits, round his gut, down his rounded thighs and calves. “Would you like to touch this gut, Guy?”

Guy hurried to throw down Howard's boxers and pull his own shorts and underwear down; he was so hard and the motion so fast that his dick slapped up and hit his abs with a soft thwack. He stepped forward and ran his hands across Howard's love handles, squeezing them and using his fingers to dapple the soft skin and the fat underneath. He slipped his fingers beneath, into the crease above Howard's hips, and leant down to place one of Howard's nipples in his mouth, sucking for a few moments.

He pulled away. “You're so…” he began. He leant back in, kissing Howard's neck, his shoulders, his chin. Each kiss was paired with a small poke from Guy's fingers; Howard realised he was searching for pockets of fat around his body.

“Big?” Howard whispered. “Heavy? Wide? Manly?”

“Fat,” Guy finished. “You're so fat.”

Howard chuckled. “And you like that, do you? You like how fat I am?” Guy nodded. “Why don't you show me how much you like it then?” Howard nodded past his gut, down towards his crotch. Guy looked around nervously. “Now you're nervous?” Howard asked. “Don’t worry, most people rush straight off after the gym at this time. Besides, everyone knows this is the gay hookup gym, no-one would bat an eyelash.”

Guy swallowed hard and Howard licked his lips at the sight of his large Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his wiry neck. He looked around once more, nodded nervously, and sunk to his knees. Howard grew even harder as he felt Guy push his fat pad back to reveal more of his length, something he’d only realised men had started doing since he’d hit twenty stone or so. He shuddered slightly as he felt Guy’s warm mouth envelop his hardness for a few seconds, before pulling back and pushing Howard’s soft underbelly away and readjusting his position, trying to find a way to suck Howard off around all of the fat in the way.

Howard leant his head back and moaned. While Guy seemed to be taken by surprise with the practicalities of sucking off a fat man, he clearly had a few tricks up his sleeve, and enough enthusiasm to make up for it. Within a few minutes he was near climax and began to thrust himself into Guy’s mouth, who made some satisfying grunts of discomfort in response.

Just as Howard began to cum, pumping his load down Guy’s pretty throat, someone walked into the shower and the younger man jumped back so that the rest of Howard's cum sprayed across his chest and dribbled down his chin. Guy flushed red and turned away towards the wall, frantically wiping away the splatters of semen.

“Don't mind me,” Charlton, one of the gym's regulars, said as he stepped under the shower head on the other side of Howard. “I'd join you, but my husband says I've got to stop fucking people at the gym.” He leant around Howard's mass to peer at Guy’s arse. “How do you get all the cute ones Howie?”

Howard moved over to Guy and cupped his arse, bending down to his knees himself. “How about it?” he asked. “Fancy an audience?”

Guy gave a small shake of his head and continued to scrub at himself. Howard stood back up, bracing against his knees and straining as he did so. He stepped away from Guy and began to wash himself, taking the signal that the younger man had lost interest, for now.

“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Guy said quietly after a while. Howard looked over and grinned as Charlton laughed.

“Just like me to ruin the fun!” Charlton said. He waved his dick over at the two of them. “Howie, you've got my number, let me know if you'd like a third later.”

Howard grabbed Guy’s wrist and led him out the shower. He nudged the small pile of their wet shorts and underwear with his toe. “Grab those,” he told Guy. “We can go to my flat, it's not far.”

Guy struggled to keep his hands off Howard on the short drive and in the lift up to Howard's floor. As he unlocked the door, Guy was already pulling Howard’s t-shirt up and undoing his belt for him, kissing his neck as he did so. Howard pulled him through to the bedroom and pushed him towards the bed, and Guy dutifully began stripping.

Howard kicked his trousers off and pulled a condom out of the drawer by his bedside table. “You're going to have to put it on me,” he told Guy. “Awkward with this thing in the way.” He thumped his gut a few times to illustrate his point. “Unless you want to top?”

Guys tongue practically fell out of his mouth at this, and he hurriedly pulled the condom out of the packet. “No, I'm happy to, you know, or whatever.” He sunk down to his knees and stared up at Howard over the crest of his gut. “It's so hot that you can't put this on yourself.”

“I mean I can,” Howard grumbled. “It's just easier to get someone else to do it.” He felt Guy roll the condom over his shaft and smooth out some air bubbles.

“How do you want me?” Guy asked. He turned towards Howard and stood waiting, his hard-on pulsing slightly.

Howard nodded towards the bed. “On the edge. However’s most comfortable for you.”

Guy climbed onto the bed, stretching his thighs wide to present his hole to Howard. Howard squirted some lube onto his fingers and ran them over Guy’s crack, before slipping a couple of fingers in and massaging for a moment or two. Guy arched his back and sighed.

Howard lined himself up with Guy as best he could, and pushed himself forward. His cock missed the mark and instead bounced painfully off of one of his cheeks. Howard winced. “Sorry,” he said. “Difficult to aim with this thing in the way.” He patted his gut.

“God that's hot,” Guy sighed.

“Glad someone thinks so,” Howard grumbled to himself. Maybe he did need to lose a little weight.

“We could try a different position?” Guy suggested. “Cowboy style, maybe, or it might help if we both lie on our sides?”

“No!” Howard snapped. “No, I can, I can do it,” he said, more calmly. He'd be damned if he’d gotten too fat to top someone properly. He fished under his gut and grabbed his equipment, using his hands to guide himself in. He found his mark and slid in slowly, as Guy moaned softly and pushed back against Howard's crotch.

The two men began to rock in sync, building up a rhythm. Howard's gut slapped into Guy's back, the claps ringing like a metronome. The two began to pick up pace, as Guy arched his back and Howard tried to reach around to grab the smaller man's cock; with his gut in the way, he just couldn't reach. Instead, he gripped Guy’s slender shoulders and put his effort into pumping. He could feel the fat on his arse, his tits, his gut shaking and vibrating and his heart fluttered in his chest as he breathed heavily. He pumped harder and gripped his own fat with one hand, inserting one finger deep into his own bellybutton. He thought about how fat he'd gotten, how much fatter he was sure to get, he thought about the man below him and how much smaller he was than him. His breath caught as he came, and he felt the condom fill up around his pole. Shaking, he rolled off of Guy and onto the bed.

“Did you..?” Howard asked.

Guy shook his head. “It's fine,” he said, panting and smiling. He placed a hand on Howard's gut and shook it. “Plenty of time for that later.”

“What does it feel like?” Guy asked afterwards, with his angular torso pressed into Howard’s broad, soft back and one arm draped across him, a hand slowly caressing his gut.

Howard laughed. “Topping? You never done it before?”

Howard felt Guy shake his head from behind. “No, I've- I mean not very often, but I have, you know- No, I mean, you know,” his hand gripped Howard's gut and shook it a little. “What does this feel like? Being fat?”

Howard laughed again. “You like that, do you?” He slapped his gut a few times, enjoying the feeling of his body rippling. “It's a bloody nuisance, I'll tell you that much.”

“Yeah?” Guy prompted. “How?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, you saw earlier, it's getting difficult to fuck guys in some positions without it getting in the way, difficult to put on condoms easily. You even struggled a bit when you were giving me a blowjob, right?” Guy nodded enthusiastically. “It's even getting difficult to piss standing up.” Howard could feel Guy’s cock hardening against his back.

“Really? Because you can't reach it you mean?” Excitement mounted in Guy’s voice.

“Reaching it's easy enough, it's being able to see that's an issue. Can't aim,” Howard explained.

“What else?” Guy urged Howard on.

“Fuck me, loads. Having to fight against my own body to tie my shoes, getting winded climbing the stairs, clothes not fitting right, not being able to join my mates when they play footy, getting the piss taken out of me by everyone who thinks they're a bloody comedian,” Howard said. By this point, Guy was grinding his hard dick against Howard's leg.

“But you love it?” Guy asked, his voice catching.

“Fuck yes,” Howard replied. “There's something about being big, you know?” Guy gave a small whimper in reply. “In basically any situation, at work, with mates, at the gym, I'm always the biggest one there. Sure, a lot of it's fat, but men always respect the big guy, you know? Like it's primal.”

“How much do you weigh?” Guy asked. He moved to straddle Howard, his hand stroking his cock.

“A little over three hundred pounds,” Howard lied. He was close, but had never actually broken the big three-oh-oh. He'd met enough of these chaser types to know that 300 was the magical number though, and was happy to fudge the numbers to make a twink’s fantasy come true.

“Christ,” Guy gasped. “You're over double my weight.” Within thirty seconds, he tensed up and yelled out as thick hot cum sprayed over Howard's gut, pooling in his belly button and dribbling down its curve onto the sheets.

Guy fell down onto Howard and kissed him, hard jawline bumping into soft. “You're incredible,” he panted. “I could order some pizzas maybe?”

A couple of hours later, three boxes sat on Howard's coffee table, while Howard stretched out on his sofa with one hand down his boxers and one hand cradling his stretched gut. He'd done his best to show off for Guy, and had eaten almost two whole pizzas in quick succession. “Go on,” he told Guy. “Eat up.”

Guy groaned, clutching his flat stomach. He'd just finished a whole pizza by himself - clearly not a feat he was used to. “They're your slices,” he said feebly, nudging the two final slices of Howard's second pizza back to the larger man.

“I want you to have them,” Howard said, pushing them back. “And I think you want to have them too.” Guy shook his head. “You're telling me,” Howard grabbed Guy’s hand and placed it on his gut. “That you don't want one of these of your own?” Guy moaned a little. “That you just want to fuck fat guys? No. You want this for yourself. Eat.”

Guy closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply, and sat forward, grabbing both slices and stacking them together before taking a large bite out of both. “That's it,” Howard whispered. “Good boy. Eat them quick, before your body has a chance to register. Good boy, there we go.”

It took fifteen minutes, and by the end Guy was clearly uncomfortable, rubbing his stomach and suppressing sickly hiccups, but eventually the slices disappeared. He sat quietly, moaning and cradling the invisible curve of his stomach. Once it became clear that he wasn't in a position for conversation, Howard put the TV on and left him to it.

“I should go,” Guy said quietly after two episodes of Doctor Who. He stood and began to pull his t-shirt back on.

“You don't have to,” Howard said, making no move to stop him. “You could stay the night, if you wanted.”

“No, it's late,” Guy said. “I was supposed to meet up with some friends.” He winced as he buttoned his jeans. “Maybe we could do this again sometime though?”

Howard sighed. He never really did ‘again’. “Maybe,” he said. “I uh, I'm only in Portsmouth for a few months for a work thing, I probably won't be uhh…”

“No, it's fine, I get it,” Guy said with a thin smile. “It's fine if this is just a one-time thing. Thanks for umm,” he looked over Howard's body, still laid out across the sofa, his gut overlapping his too-tight pants. “You've helped me figure some stuff out. Thank you.”

Howard heaved himself to his feet and stuck his hand out. “Always happy to figure some stuff out with someone,” he said. Guy took Howard's offered hand and shook it. “All the best Guy.”

“You too.”

The door closed and Howard collapsed back down onto the sofa. 

-

Howard groaned as he lowered himself into the seat, grateful for the easing of the pressure on his feet. He closed his eyes and just sat for a moment, breathing just a little too heavily for his liking. Ever since he'd crossed the 300 pound mark almost a decade ago, he'd been eagerly eyeing up 350, but he was starting to worry that it might have been just a little too much weight for him. He was just so big these days, and at more than a little ways past forty, he was starting to think that the big leagues, weight-wise, were a young man's game.

He opened his eyes slowly and reached towards the menu. No need to go hungry, anyway, whether or not he wanted to get much bigger, especially with his company footing the bill. A couple of starters, he thought, a big main, maybe one of those steaks, and then some big heavy dessert. That should just about hit the spot. He squeezed his overhang just a touch and sighed. Sitting down, with the dull ache in his feet fading away and his breathing going back to its usual light wheeze, rather than a heavy pant, he started to forget his earlier apprehension, just a few moments before. Being big felt fucking great, didn't it? What difference would another ten or fifteen pounds make, really?

His thoughts were interrupted by a shadow falling across his menu, and he looked up, expecting to see the waiter. What he saw instead was a wall of flesh - a man stood in front of him, outweighing Howard by, god, who knew how much? At least a hundred pounds, maybe even one-fifty. The man's soft gut hung down, almost touching the table, and his arms sat awkwardly at his sides, visibly pushed away from the man's huge, soft torso by gut and tit and roll. He looked like something out of one of Howard's fantasies, a scale he'd fervently imagined himself at, but never really aspired to.

"Howard?" the man asked. "It is Howard isn't it?"

Howard was stumped. He'd remember this man if they'd met, surely? Fantasised about him for weeks afterwards presumably, wistfully thinking back to that human barge he'd met in some business meeting or other?

"I'm so sorry," he said after a while. "I'm really trying to remember…"

"It's Guy," the man - Guy - said. "We met about eleven or twelve years ago." When Howard's face didn't lose its confused stupor he added - "In Portsmouth? I, uhh, look a little different I suppose." He punctuated this last bit by laying his hand on top of his gut.

Howard thought back, he'd not spent long in Portsmouth after all, six months maybe. Had he met a Guy? He looked up at the round face in front of him, subtracted ten years, a couple of chins, tried to imagine cheek bones beneath those jowls, noticed the bent nose that looked like it had been set badly, years before…

"Jesus fuck, Guy, " Howard said softly, his eyes widening. "Twink Guy?" he asked, his voice high. This whale in front of him couldn't have ever been that small fry, could he?

Guy laughed. "Twink Guy, I like that!" he said. "Can't say there's been much call for a nickname like that for a while now though." He smiled at Howard. "Are you waiting for someone? Maybe I could join you?"

Howard made a blustering noise that could be interpreted as a positive, and gestured at the seat opposite him. Guy pulled the chair back, far away from the table edge, and slowly, carefully, deliberately lowered himself down into it. Howard marveled at the practiced routine of it all - how far back the chair needed to go, the care with which the sturdy oak chair needed handling, the way that every movement was slow and deliberate and carefully considered to avoid bumping into anything, everything, around him. Most of all he marveled at how Guy barely seemed to register that any of this was out of the ordinary.

"God, it's good to get off your feet, isn't it," Guy sighed.

Howard studied Guy, trying to remember the rail thin twenty-something year old underneath the blubber. His face was huge, round cheeks bulging over sagging jowls around squinting eyes. His body was enormously broad - tits sloped down a mountainous gut down into his elbows. Even his fingers were fat - stubby little sausages attached to pillow palms.

Guy reached over his belly and picked up the menu, resting it on the shelf of his gut. “Shall we just get one of each of the starters and sides and share?” he asked after a while.

Howard’s eyebrows rose. He looked back at the menu - there was at least ten starters and the same amount of sides. How much was this man planning on eating?

“I'll foot the bill, don't worry” Guy said, misinterpreting Howard's reaction. “The least I can do.” He slapped the top of his gut, setting it swaying. “After all, I've got you to thank for this.”

Howard’s mouth closed and opened a few times. “Sorry, I'm not sure I… You've got me to thank?”

“Oh absolutely!” Guy said, nodding. His double chin shook with the motion.

At that point the waiter arrived, interrupting Guy. They both ordered a pint of ale, Guy ordered all the starters and sides, as he'd said, and Howard ordered the steak.

“God, that sounds good actually. Two of those. Medium-rare, yeah. And we’ll want the dessert menu after. Perfect, yeah, thanks.” Guy turned back to Howard. “Where were we? Yes! Thanking you, that was it.” He leant back, and Howard could see his shirt pulling out of his waistband to reveal a slab of pale flesh hanging out even while sitting. “After we, you know, after that night anyway, I just sort of knew I guess.”

“Knew what?” Howard asked.

“That I wanted to be fat!” Guy said loudly. Howard sank down in his seat as people at other tables looked over. “I mean, I knew before then, I guess, but it was all, I don't know, wanking over YouTube videos and those stupid stories about people getting paid to fatten themselves up or something. I never, god, I never imagined I could really do something like that.”

Their drinks arrived and the two were quiet for a while as they took their first large gulps. “And then you met me,” Howard offered.

“And then I met you!” Guy repeated. “God, the number of fat guys I must have stared at before you.” He laughed. “I thought I was being so subtle, but clearly you noticed pretty quick.”

Howard laughed as well. “Yeah, subtle didn't really come to mind,” he said. “I thought you were cruising, honestly. You were actually doing that to any fat guy you saw? Just, down the street?”

“Christ yes,” Guy laughed. “They must have all thought I was a creep.”

At that point, the first of the starters arrived. Guy fell quiet as he focussed on eating. Howard could see how he's gotten so large - eating was clearly serious business to this man. Each bite was relished, with time taken to enjoy the flavours, but no time was wasted - as soon as one bite was swallowed, more food would immediately be brought to his lips.

After the starters and while they waited for their mains, Guy spoke. “You know, I always imagined how much weight you were putting on,” he told Howard. “And I always sort of, I don't know, compared myself to the image of you I had in my head. Especially once I reached three hundred pounds, and I was so much softer than I remember you being, and then when I hit three-hundred and fifty, four hundred, and I thought, god, when did he hit these weights? How much bigger did he get? And I started to imagine, you know, we'd meet at some point and I'd have managed to get, I don't know, ten, twenty pounds bigger. And it'd be, god this is so stupid saying it out loud, like you'd passed the torch on or something. Honestly, it's a big reason I've been pushing myself to still get bigger and bigger.”

“Sorry to be a disappointment,” Howard said, rubbing his gut. He'd done his best to eat half of the food on the table, and while not full, he could feel himself slowing down; in comparison, Guy seemed to be impatiently waiting for more food. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so small.

“God, no!” Guy said. “I don’t mean, no, I'm not disappointed or anything. I do know, you know, that I've kind of taken this whole gaining thing further than most people are into. I never really, honestly I mean, thought I'd meet you again or whatever. It was always just something knocking around in the back of my head. I didn't even really know that you were a gainer, you might have lost it all for all I- fuck, sorry, I don't even- are you even a gainer? I just assumed.”

Howard waved his hand. “Don't worry, yeah, I… well. I mean, fifty pounds in ten years, it's hardly the kind of weight you've been putting on. But yeah, I'm on all the sites and stuff.”

“Hey, anyone else would be pulling their hair out over fifty pounds,” Guy said. “Us guys just have a skewed perspective about this stuff.”

Howard shrugged. “I guess. Sometimes I feel like I'm not making progress and sometimes I really look at myself and see just how big I am.”

“How big are you, if you don't mind me asking?” Guy asked.

“Three-sixty-something these days,” Howard said. “Probably a little more - lots of business trips. And you?”

“Just hit five hundred a couple of weeks ago,” Guy replied proudly. “Hit a bit of a plateau since, but it's great finally getting there, you know?”

Howard gave a low whistle. “That's a big boy number right there.” Guy laughed. “You're going for those kinds of weights then? Five-hundred plus?”

Guy grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically. “It's all I think about,” he said. “The more weight I put on, the more I want to put on. It's like, okay, when we first met that time, right? I got all excited and I decided I could put on, I don't know, twenty pounds, see how that felt. And it was nothing. So I thought, okay, fifty pounds, and then I'd put on fifty pounds and I was starting to feel chubby but…”

“It wasn't as big as you'd thought it would be?” Howard asked.

“God, not nearly anything like it,” Guy agreed. “Like, fifty pounds you know? That's a lot of weight! And it just didn't look like it. So I went up to two-hundred and fifty, and that wasn't enough, then three hundred, and I thought, surely, surely three hundred’s where you start to feel big. And that's how big you were! I fucked other big guys, don't get me wrong, but you were the first - I built you up into a bit of myth in my head I think.”

“I'm flattered,” Howard said.

“Well, I got to three-hundred pounds, as big as Howard, and it still wasn't big enough,” Guy continued. “So I added another fifty, and that wasn't enough, and another, and four-hundred still didn't feel big enough.” He sighed. “You never feel like that?”

Howard spread his hands on the table and studied them for a while. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Not often. I do feel big, most of the time. Big enough. But every so often I catch a glimpse of myself and I just think… is this really twenty-five stone? Surely I should be huge by now? When I was younger I couldn't imagine how big that must be and now…”

“Now it's just the size you are,” Guy finished. “It's normal.”

Howard nodded as their mains got brought over. Howard tried to hide his nervousness at the size of the portion; chips were piled high next to a steak as big as his face and over an inch thick. Guy licked his lips and started eating immediately, stopping only when the sides got brought over.

It took nearly two hours for Howard to get through his steak, sides and the selection of desserts Guy had ordered. Guy watched him, having finished long before, occasionally offering words of encouragement, but generally just filling Howard in on his life; the company he'd started, the relationships with increasingly larger men who were just never big enough, the years and years of gluttony and sloth that had built him into the man Howard saw before him.

Howard leant back and drummed his fingers on his gut. It has been a while since he'd felt it so taut, and the sensation left him rock hard. He opened one eye and watched Guy for a while.

“I've got a room upstairs,” Howard said after a while. “If you wanted to…?”

Guy smiled. “I thought you said you were married now.”

“We’re open,” Howard reassured him. “I spend a lot of time away with work and we both know that we’ll be better off if we get to relieve some tension every so often.”

“Well then,” Guy said with raised eyebrows. “Shall we?”

They both stood, Howard feeling particularly spritely for the first time in a while; he found himself waiting for Guy to haul himself to his feet. The two made their way slowly to the elevator, which sunk noticeably as the two men entered.

As the doors closed, Guy reached over and put a hand on Howard's love handle and squeezed. “Just like I remember,” he said with a smile.

“Hopefully a little bigger?” Howard said.

“Don't worry,” Guy said. “I can see all the progress you've made. But it's that same solid ball gut I've been having wet dreams about for the past decade.” He slapped it a few times, resulting in a dull thump. He slid a finger through a gap between the buttons in Howard’s shirt and stroked the furry skin around his belly button.

The elevator door opened, and the two made their way to Howard's hotel room. Howard let them in and Guy made his slow way over to the bed and gingerly sat down. Howard stood in front of him and let his gut bump into Guy's face, who reached up and began to unbutton Howard's shirt for him.

“Oh yes,” Guy said. “I've missed this a lot.” He ran his fingers through the hair on Howard's gut and up onto his soft chest as Howard pulled off his jacket and shirt and threw them to the side. Guy leant forward and nuzzled his nose into Howard's belly button, before replacing it with his tongue as he worked his fingers under Howard's overhang to undo his belt and pull his trousers down.

Guy lifted Howard's gut slightly, and deftly pushed the fat back slightly to reveal more of his hardening cock. “This is bigger than I remember,” he said.

“My cock?” Howard asked. “Really?”

Guy laughed. “Sorry, no. I meant your fat pad.”

“Ah,” Howard said. “Suppose that would be a bit too much to ask for.”

“I personally have come to enjoy the effects of fat on a man's cock,” Guy said.

“Not one I'm particularly thrilled with myself,” Howard grumbled.

“Well maybe I can make it up to you,” Guy said, before slipping his mouth over Howard's dick.

Howard's breath caught. The key to giving a good blowjob, Howard had learnt over the years, is to really, truly, genuinely want that dick in your mouth, and Guy was clearly hungry for it. No opportunity was missed to taste or lick or suck on any and all exposed skin. His balls, his shaft, his head, his taint, all of it was lovingly cared for in turn. It wasn't long before Howard was shooting down Guy's throat.

Guy sat back and smiled as he swallowed. Howard thought back to how prominent his Adam’s apple used to be - it was now barely visible in his lardy neck.

Howard sank down to his knees, and lifted Guy’s gut to gain access to his belt buckle. As he undid his trousers, Guy pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing soft, undulating flesh. Together, the two slowly managed to peel Guy’s clothes off of his body until he was sat in only his socks.

Howard once more lifted Guy’s gut and pushed back at the soft fat filling his crotch, unveiling the nub of his cock. He leant forward to lick the exposed head, but quickly had to pull back as his face became enveloped with fat from above.

“You don't have to,” Guy said. “I know that it's not easy to-”

“Lean back,” Howard said, pushing back on Guy’s torso. “And hold your belly.”

Guy obeyed, laying down on the bed so that his flab cascaded back towards his face. Howard pushed down on his fat pad, revealing another inch or so of cock. As Howard took it into his mouth, licking its meager length and the small scrotum, he thought back to the long cock Guy had the last time they'd met, now swallowed on thick fat.

Howard inhaled deeply, taking in the sour musk of Guy’s crotch and continued to lap at the small length available to him. He began to pump the fat surrounding his cock, using it to jerk the length he couldn't see. The wall of fat above him began to shake and quiver, until sticky cum spurted out. Howard noted how sweet it tasted, and wondered if his own cum had gotten sweeter as he'd gotten fatter.

“That was great,” Guy said.

“Glad to be of service,” Howard replied.

Guy shuffled his weight back up the bed, setting the frame creaking and groaning. He patted the bed next to him. “I think I was big spoon last time.”

“I think you might have been,” Howard said. From this angle, Guy looked almost impossibly wide. His gut spilled out, pulled down and to the sides by gravity, so that he resembled a large pillow. Howard settled down next to him, teetering on the edge of the bed, and curled up to the large mass. “I don't think these beds are really built for men our size.”

“Not two of us, anyway,” Guy said. “I can go, if that's easier?”

Howard shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We can stay a while.”

The two lay quietly for a while. Their heavy breathing filled the room.

“It's been a while,” Guy said after a while.

“What has?” Howard asked.

“Since I've been with anyone,” Guy clarified. “Once you reach a certain size, the mechanics all get a bit awkward.”

“How so?” Howard asked.

Guy sighed. “I can barely even reach my cock these days,” he admitted. “Bit of a faff for someone else to reach it, too. Generally guys just feed me these days, then deal with themselves.”

“You okay with that?” Howard asked.

“Oh yeah,” Guy insisted. “Don't worry about me. Not much difference these days between eating and sex for me. But this was… this was nice.”

“You still like it then?” Howard asked. “Being big? Getting bigger?”

“God yes,” Guy beamed. “There's nothing like it. I can't imagine stopping. How about you? Happy to stop where you are?”

“You know, I might well be open to packing a little more on,” Howard said.

“You let me know if you're ever up to getting fed then, eh?” Guy said. “I saw you struggling with those kiddy portions. You’re going to need pushing if you want to get really big.”

“Is that so?” Howard asked, laughing. 

Guy struggled to sit up. “Absolutely,” he said. “I distinctly remember you pushing me to eat two extra slices of pizza beyond what I thought I could. That lesson stuck with me. It's time you learnt it too.” He hauled himself to the side of the bed and panted for a moment or two. “I'll leave you be. Can't have you hanging off the bed all night.”

“Leave your number?” Howard said.

Guy smiled. “Definitely,” he said. He looked down at the clothes strewn about on the floor. “I uh… don't suppose you'd pick up my clothes for me? Bending down’s a bit of an ordeal these days.”

Howard chuckled and helped Guy collect his clothes and put them on. “Let's make sure it's not another decade, eh?”

Guy smiled. “Of course,” he said and patted Howard's gut. “We've got to make sure to put some meat on these bones.”

The door closed and Howard collapsed back down onto the bed. 

[drieddpetals]

modern things the crows would love

(based of the reference of them being in the victorian era)

(also, i've seen a couple people do this so full credit to them for inspiring this)

kaz:

* (secretly) card shuffling asmr/those asmr videos where they teach you card games, even tho he knows how to play them already

* (when he was a kid) those diaries where you have to have a code to get in with a speaker to record messages in

* ^^ also diaries with locks on them

* combination locks

* hard swing jazz

* mean girls (movie & musical)

* "dark acadamia" literature

* making sure everyone in a fifteen mile radius of him knows that frankenstein was the DOCTOR and the monster was frankenstein's MONSTER

* making up conlangs/ciphers for fun

* ^^ getting the crows to memorize them so they can communicate secretly

* gloves with pads on the fingers that let you use screens

inej:

* tumblr aesthetic moodboards

* taking hyperspecific uquiz personality quizzes

* crystal jewelry

* competitive gymnastics & tumbling

* claw clips & french pins

* colored eyeliner & mascara

* midi skirts

* making boards on pinterest—sharing those boards with jesper & wylan

* ^^ having massive joint pinterest boards with all the crows

* leg warmers

* ballet & "ballet aesthetic"

* any movie with natalie portman

* birkenstocks but specifically the ones with a holder for your big toe (idk if this makes sense)

* phantom of the opera

* oil diffusers

* american girl dolls

jesper:

* laser tag

* rollerskating & roller derby

* plato's closet

* tourist jewelry

* volleyball

* colored & funky shaped sunglasses

* just dance 2

* bruno mars

* fall out boy

* cargo shorts

* hamilton

* finding obscure fashion inspo on pinterest

* showing everyone how he can run barefoot on gravel

* gyaru fashion

* sour candy

* mt. dew

* saying, "i'm just joshing you" ironically

* sneezing extremely loud on purpose when it's dead silent

wylan:

* papa louie arcade games

* laufey

* asmr

* flute beatboxing

* green and brown colored converse

* tumblr aesthetic moodboards

* magnetic puzzle tiles

* percy jackson

* moisturizer with sunscreen in it

* the great comet of 1812

* dr. pepper

* accidentally dropping really traumatizing memories bc he genuinely thinks they're just funny stories from his childhood

* watercolor pencils

* shazam & the google "hum a tune" feature

nina:

* forever 21

* lush

* those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe

* french tip manicures but in any other color but white

* ^^ also charms on nails

* gel manicures

* megan thee stallion

* lip gloss

* juicy couture

* the met gala

* amy winehouse

* duolingo/memrise/babbel

* panara bread

matthias:

* ^^ also, those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe

* volunteering at animal shelters

* carhaart & patagonia

* those massage chairs at malls

* apple watches

* buying those massive bottles of ibuprofen at costco

* ^^ buying bulk protein powder from costco

* ^^^ generally he just likes costco & buying things in bulk

* colored fairy lights (HATES LED light strips)

* those big tubs of aquaphor

* vera bradley blankets

* gallon water bottles with the motivational time checkpoints

* at home gyms

* the classic white boy flannel over hoodie combo

* jacuzzis

* massage guns

* steel toe boots

* yawning and sneezing like a dad

* hair and beard oil

[valeriianz]

I am imagining a Bi-curious Dream. Human AU. Inspired by this post. (but not at all horny or much explicit). this got a lot softer than i intended.

----------------

Dream, who goes by Morpheus, has such a stick up his ass. And he’s always only dated women, and he’s always the one getting dumped. And after this last failed relationship, where Morpheus thought for sure he’d found The One (after a record breaking 5 months), Johanna takes him out to a bar to find him a hookup. A rebound. Morpheus grumbles that he doesn’t need a rebound but goes along with it all the same.

Johanna knows of Morpheus’ bi tendencies. Though Morpheus has only mentioned it in passing that he wouldn’t mind dating a guy “if the right one came along.” They went to undergrad together, where they met and how Jo knows Morpheus has certainly kissed a lot of guys, but the idea of ever actually dating one, let alone sleeping with a man, turns Morpheus all shy and unsure. She’s teased him enough about actually stepping out of his comfort zone and actually exploring his attraction, and figures now is the best time to put that curiosity to the test.

A few drinks in and Johanna spots Hob, an old co-worker and invites him over, much to Morpheus’ chagrin. They yell and get excited seeing one another, couple of extroverts that they are, and quickly exchange pleasantries, catching up. Morpheus is seemingly ignored, and he's making it his life’s mission to drown himself in gin and juice and become one with the sticky bartop.

Dream glares at Hob out of the corner of his eyes, sizing him up, hiding behind his drink. Then Hob turns to face him as Jo introduces him and the smile he throws at Dream nearly knocks him off the stool. Morpheus sits up quickly and has an annoying concern for how his hair and eyeliner look.

“Hello, Morpheus.” And Hob extends a hand and Morpheus takes it awkwardly, an unexpected buzz shooting up his arm from Hob’s tight grip on his cold fingers.

Morpheus nods in greeting, afraid if he opens his mouth his tongue might fall out. He’s always been passively attracted to men, found some cute or handsome, but figured it was a superficial thing, or something like envy. He’d never given conscious thought to what it might be like to share… intimacies with another man. His unconscious mind, however…

Hob looked like someone peeled right out of Morpheus’ darkest, lewdess, most shameful dreams. A man with bushy brows and scruffy beard, an easy smile, and kind, chocolate brown eyes.

Okay, maybe not the most erotic image to grace Morpheus’ vision. But the glint behind Hob’s eyes, the smile that was slowly sharpening to a smirk, and the way his fingers dragged along Morpheus’ skin as their hands finally dropped, filled Morpheus with a sudden urgency to drag this man to the nearest dark corner and let Hob have his way with him.

And later that night, fueled by liquid courage and a very confident Hob leading the way, Morpheus allows himself to be pulled against a warm, broad chest and kissed senseless against the wall of a house he’s never been in before.

Hob licks into Morpheus’ mouth like he’s a man starved and Morpheus is a 5-course meal, moaning loud enough to make Morpheus’ skull vibrate. And all Morpheus can do is try to keep up, working his jaw and swallowing down little whines that he can feel bubbling up. Hob is so vocal and handsy, his fingers trailing up Morpheus’ jaw, carding through his hair, gripping the nape of his neck with a teasing bite to his lip that makes Morpheus’ knees wobble, before one hand moves down to his waist, teasing the edge of his shirt and touching pale skin.

Morpheus, for his part, has his eyes squeezed shut and is almost fighting against the urge to give in. Wondering why this is so hard for him. He’s never been kissed like this before, never been held like a precious thing before, and– he knows he’s getting into his own head. Morpheus feels himself break away with a loud, wet gasp, turning his head and mumbling a half-hearted, 

“Wait…”

And, incredibly, Hob does wait. He stands in front of Morpheus and gives him a moment to breathe. To calm down from his own insecurities and nerves. Morpheus feels like Hob is the type of guy to go all the way. The way he’d been flirting with Morpheus at the bar gave him the implication that this wasn’t Hob’s first rodeo. He didn’t boast about experience or prowess, but it was in the way he carried himself, the way he couldn’t stop staring at Morpheus, smiling like he knew he’d end up following Hob home. 

And sure enough, as soon as they’d stepped through the threshold of Hob’s home, he’d turned and pinned Morpheus against the nearest surface and kissed him without warning.

“Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” And Hob kisses the corners of Morpheus’ eyes, rubs soothing circles along his pointy hip bones, and murmurs sweetness in a quiet, calm voice. A voice that slowly makes Morpheus unravel, relaxing in Hob’s hold and tentatively bringing his own arms around Hob’s shoulders and kisses him back, properly. Eagerly.

It’s slow now, lips-only and so sweet Morpheus’ lips part on their own accord and a rush of heat crawls up his neck as he makes a desperate, needy noise. He slips his tongue past Hob’s lips to distract himself from that moment of vulnerability, feeling Hob’s grin, tasting his muffled laughter.

It’s so sensual and soft, it makes Morpheus’ head spin. And then Hob presses his body flush to Morpheus’ and they both realize they’re hard.

Morpheus surprises himself by canting his hips forward, curious to feel how Hob is hard, for him. And smiling his own, self-satisfied smile as Hob sucks in a breath and groans, trailing his lips up Morpheus’ jaw and nosing along the underside of his ear. He grinds his own hips with a little more force and it rips a whine from Morpheus’ throat, his head falling back against the wall with a dull thud and he’s squeezing his eyes shut again.

They rut back and forth for a while, Hob’s hot breath hitting Morpheus’ ear with punctuated groans of pleasure and praise that tumbles from his lips. He bites Morpheus’ throat, gentle enough to not leave a mark but hard enough to make Morpheus jolt, getting a hand in Hob’s hair and encouraging him to continue, which he does with chuckling enthusiasm.

Eventually they slow down, only for Hob to come around, take Morpheus by the chin, and wait for him to open his eyes again. Something in them makes Hob growl, leaning in like he can’t help it and biting Morpheus’ lip.

“We don’t have to go all the way, if you don’t want to,” Hob says, breathless and barely holding himself back. “But I’m dying to suck your cock.”

Morpheus flushes again, grateful for the dim lighting in Hob’s living room and nods eagerly.

The next morning, Morpheus is awoken to the smell of coffee and Hob in his kitchen, preparing breakfast. Morpheus walks in with bare feet, bare chest, flannel pajamas that are hanging off his hips for dear life, and is suddenly hungry.

He sneaks up behind Hob, slotting his pelvis against Hob’s ass and winding his arms around his waist like he belongs there. Like they do this all the time and this isn’t a one-night-stand gone awry. Hob chuckles in surprise, dropping what he’s doing to turn around in Morpheus’ hold and be kissed sloppily.

Morpheus came to the bar with Johanna looking for a rebound, just some meaningless sex to help him forget his ex. But the next morning, he had a boyfriend.

[myabsurddreamjournal]

Fate (part 5)

Soldier boy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.

....

it was their first week here, the cheap motel room they booked with her money.

the walls were gray and a bit dirty, there was two beds and a small tv, and microwave. It was maybe one of the worst motel rooms in the city but felt like heaven for her after 2 years spent in lab.

For Ben, well he didn't say much, She realized shortly after coming here. Well there were times, where he speaked and even joked, asking her questions or answering her questions. But it was limited. whenever she asked something about his past, or he remembered something, He would suddenly stop talking and stare at wall without blinking, deep in thought. Afraid of triggering his PTSD, she kept her mouth shut even she wanted to listen and talk to him about it.

He was outside in the first day, coming back with his bag looking heavier at evening, saying he paid a visit to old friend. She didnt asked what was in the bag, thinking he would show it sooner or later.

At night they laid side by side in the beds. Almost 1 meter between them. She would think that he will be vanished in the morning, that he was a dream.

but he was there everytime. Looking at her sometimes. Sometimes asleep. She evem felt him adjulsting her blanket one night, Covering her feet. She felt no fear, which was so weird for her, not being afraid of someone who would explode at any second. And it confused her,

somethings about her confused Soldier Boy too.

......

She was applying makeup, a cheap eyeliner and lipstick, that she bought from a store today, after seeing her reflection on the mirror for the first time, she felt a bit self concious around Ben. Her skin were dull from bad diet and lack of sunlight for years. Unlike Ben, who looked perfect even with that hair and beard, or being there for 40 years.

well, he was Soldier Boy after all.

With this thoughts in her mind She applied lipstick on her cheeks too, and liked the effect.

putting down the lipstick, she looked at her hair, It looked lifeless like her skin and grew too long for her taste. She was thinking about cutting it for the last 2 or 3 days.

She decided to do it. picking up the scissor from counter. And started.

.......

After about half and hour, While she was cleaning the sink Soldier Boy knocked the door firmly.

she opened the door:

"-oh, im sorry do you need to use bathroom?" she said looking at him, he was wearing giants t shirt and sweatpants she bought for him from thriftshop, Homelander drink can in his hand. He looked almost normal,

Instead of answering he looked at her face.

Her hair was shorter now, (He never liked on women, thinking it made them look like man.) Her cheeks and lips pink. Eyes brighter.

But it was okay on her, beautiful even. He found himself thinking this often in last days.

But this wasnt like anything he felt before, and it made him so confused, he had affairs with countless women, they literally threw themselves on him. And he was attracted to them. Loved their curves, long hair And their femininity. The way his heart beated fast when they were close to him.

But she...

she was another story.

He didnt really give shit about anyone before, Never felt bad about things he said or did. But he found himself holding back last days. Whenever he was angry around her,

Because he hated the way she jumped in her chair when he raised his voice, angry at news about attacks on the tv.

He never wanted to see her like this.

He wanted to protect her.

He wanted to be close to her (in a different way).

Hide her in his arms from the world that she was so afraid of.

Lost in his thoughts he didnt realize he was staring at her face, and not answering.

-"Ben? are you alright?"

-"Yes doll, i was wondering what were you doing there hiding?"

-"I wasnt hiding, i was cutting my hair."

-"It looks nice"

-"Thank you." she said. Looking at floor.

the silence was awkward, so she smiled at him and got back the cleaning,

After watching her for a while he asked suddenly;

-"You can cut my hair too?"

He wanted her to cut his hair?!, Her heartbeat quickened.

Hearing it, Soldier Boy smiled softly. She blushed harder when she remembered that he was hearing it.

-"y-yes sure i used to cut my brothers hair all the time. You want me to cut it now?"

-"Yes doll."

-"Okay, you need to sit here." she pointed the old chair.

He walked towards it, her heartbeat was getting quicker.

-"calm down doll im not gonna eat you."

-"s-sorry i just still cant believe you are awake."

-"you sure this is the reason?", he winked.

-"yy-eah."

she picked up the towel from counter quickly, wrapping it around his shoulders.

He took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing, this was one of the weird things about her too, Making him calm whenever she touched him.

When she started to brush his hair with her fingers, He couldnt help the sigh that left his lips, Closing eyes. This felt good.

After few seconds, he tried to stiffen his posture, not letting his guard down, but it was impossible.

-"Where is your brother now?" he asked suddenly, eyes still closed.

-"he is gone." she said. He could see sadness taking over her face even his eyes closed.

well he felt like shit now.

-"back there, i felt this." he said then, trying to change the subject. He needed to wipe that sadness off her face

-"felt what Ben?"

-"Your hands, touching my face"

-"I-it was for checking your body temperature y-you know, i-its the easiest wa.-"

-"sure thing doll" he said, winking again, smiling at her who looked like a tomato.

-"im sorry if it made you uncomfortable Ben,"

-"It, didnt."

it was far from uncomfortable actually, like being touched by an angel, made him feel warm even for a few seconds.

but he didnt tell her that.

....

20 mins later their hair was mixed on the floor, dark brown and light brown together.

-"You like it?" she asked, taking off the towel from his shoulders

-"Yes doll," he said patting her head. "You will be the only one to cut my hair from now on" he said, smirking.

She smiled at him, looking at the floor again.

-"O-oh i almost forgot, i bought razors for you, your beard i mean, if you want to shave it of course." She told him as he was about the leave the bathroom

-"how you like it? do you think i should shave it?"

-"y-you look good both ways."

-"you too", he said looking at her hair.

taglist: @deans-spinster-witch@mfnqueen1@ponypickle@butchers-girl@verypostcrown @angelbabyyy99 @6asm0ne @uncle-eggy

notes: Next part too will be about their days in motel (they will get closer!) then we will see butcher and hughie :)

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  when broken is easily fixed

SUMMARY : priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader (implied Latina)

CHARACTERS : tish (mentioned)

WARNINGS/TAGS : jealousy, breakups, fluff, tiny angst, innuendos, obliviousness x2

WORD COUNT : 2.7k

A/N : SURPRISE YALL, I’m back, heheheh. title from silverstein’s song. this fills the square “I’m having what you’d call a rough day” on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, this was nice to jump back into writing. I secretly like teaching y’all physics. 

You remember the day Priestly showed up at the market in a disappointingly normal state. 

No piercings, no colourful hair, no beard, no eyeliner. Just plain old California clothes, nearly looking Christian with his neat hair, and composed manners.

The only things that reassured you that Priestly was still Priestly after all, were the tattoos that peeked from outside the collar of a white dress shirt and the tiny holes in his skin where his piercings once belonged.

It was confusing at first, but he looked happy. Brighter.

You thought his parents were in town. Or that he became religious after all. Or that he joined a cult. 

You teased him at first. He’d just give you this dreamy look and never said anything to ease your curiosity about his current state. He’d be out the door in a hurry, with a tiny bit of that Priestly swagger that told you he was definitely not brainwashed by a cult.

But the reason for the sudden change in him soon became clear. 

One day, he walked into the store to buy groceries and other necessities with Tish. Hand in hand, the two of them. All giggles and shoves and smiles. The honeymoon phase. She’d kiss him on his cheeks, take his chin in her hand and press herself against him in an unnecessary manner to tell him something, and he’d look stupid, like he couldn’t believe she was there giving him affection. 

Your stomach dropped at the sight of them. 

You’d never felt the way you did before. 

Yeah, there was a cringey-ness and aversion you always had  for PDA and romance that you’d noticed in yourself for years, but it never bothered you like it did now. From watching Priestly and Tish be a couple.

But it also didn’t take you long to realise why it bothered you so much more. Why it was so much harder to ignore than if it were any other couple doing it. Why you felt rejected became clear.

You had feelings for Priestly.

What a dumb way to find that out. 

Excuse the fuck out of yourself if you were too focused on your university courses and your job and your future and your personal life… to realise that you really actually liked him. Romantically.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t care at all when you were alone. You weren’t  going to lie to yourself about the sting you felt. Or push away the feelings of jealousy and push down how upset you were and the other, million emotions you felt as you watched them go about their lives as a couple for months. 

You never wanted to quit more badly than you did then, just to avoid having to see them get closer, clingier, more affectionate, serious. But it was the only way you could afford living in your dorm, to have enough to pay your classes, and afford your supplies and books... 

You sucked it up and pretended that nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t even care about him. Like you never did. 

It never really got easier, the only thing that became easy was pretending. 

You blamed yourself for waiting too long. That’s what haunted you. If you’d just been braver. If you’d been more honest with yourself and him. If you’d had the courage to say what you felt. If… if…

It was torture.

The high California-in-the-summertime temperatures made you think that you were in Hell, but time passed and you accepted that your chance with him had passed. You told yourself to move on and be happy. For the most part, as long as you ignored them, it was easy to be happy again, to live your life and do whatever your wildest friend was doing to enjoy her summer. 

But that happiness you’d seen in Priestly was gone by the time the fall semester came around. It took six long, horrible months for that happiness in him to fade away. 

It didn’t last. Just like the spring and the summer.

Until one day you didn’t see her with him. And the next day he was alone again. And the next week; alone. And the week after that, too. 

No Tish. 

Just mopey, wet-eyed Priestley. 

His stubble grew, his eyeliner returned—slightly smeared from tears. 

No more Banana Republic, Tommy Hillfigure, or Calvin Klein. Just those ridiculous shirts that always made you smile.

He entered the store today again after a week. 

The shop's bell rang and you looked up out of habit, and watched him with his gorgeous green eyes cast downward to the slightly dusty floor you were trying to sweep. God, you’d guess it was more of a depressing, someone’s-dead type of chime than a merry one—from the state of him.

His hair was a mess and slightly longer, it was not brushed or styled neatly. Like he woke up from a nap after breakfast and decided to go to the store because he remembered something he forgot before his nap. 

You felt bad… at first. 

His cheeks were pink and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from tears. He had darkened bags under his eyes. But as he moped around and you avoided being noticed by him out of awkwardness, you caught a glimpse of his shirt, which amused you: Hang in there, it gets worse, with a little thumbs up, too. 

He came completely in black, too. 

It was unavoidably funny. But you stifled your snort as you continued to sweep quietly, until eventually, you got lost in thought again. Your head filled with your to-do list before entering your final semester. 

But you eventually found yourself in the same aisle as him. You swept the trash up into the dustpan as you watched him try to hold bread, bananas, napkins, and toilet paper in one arm while trying to take out a gallon of milk from the fridge.

You saw what would happen from a mile away and quickly released the broom and left the dustpan where it was to help him. Before you could actually get to him, the napkins toppled out of his hold and he mistakenly released the milk to grab it which caused the gallon to burst open when it fell to the floor like a ripe melon in the sun. 

You gasped when the milk splattered on you, but you didn’t actually mind at all. Priestly, on the other hand, sighed heavily again, completely giving up. 

He finally looked at you when you reached for the napkins he dropped and you smiled warily at him, hoping it appeared more reassuring than pitiful. You handed him the napkins and he murmured an apology, taking them from you. 

“They say when you drop your food, it's because someone craved it,” you tried to make light of the situation but he didn’t even notice. He gently placed everything down on top of the shelf behind him with a deep sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned at the large white puddle, “I’m having what you’d call a rough day.” You huffed a soft laugh which made him raise a brow at you. 

“Day? You’ve been mopey and pathetic for weeks,” you teased playfully, but he remained quiet. You figured you’d offended him or hurt his feelings because he sniffled and looked down at his hands. 

Your face softened.

“I’ll pay for that.” He pointed to the spilt milk and broken gallon.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “Let me clean this up. I’ll help you when I finish.” You turned around to pick up some napkins you kept behind the counter and he made a sound of protest. 

He followed you, you heard him walking behind you quickly. “I made this mess. I should clean it. Besides, it’s almost your lunch break,” he tried to stop you. You laughed softly and shook your head as you laid yourself over the counter to grab the napkins from underneath the counter, your feet dangled embarrassingly above the floor.

“Hey, it’s no trouble,” you dismissed, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you got up with the napkins. “Go be a customer and bring your stuff… take two trips this time. There’s no one else here.” You snatched the napkins away from him when he tried to take them from you. 

He smiled a little. 

It made you smile more earnestly. 

“Okay… Fine…” he gave in hesitantly and followed you as you walked towards the mess he made. He picked up the stuff he left on the shelf and watched you squat down and lay some napkins over the puddle. The paper soaked the milk up and he slowly walked to the counter then returned as you finished up. 

He stood there awkwardly at first. Still just watching you clean up and then you got up and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back at you gently and your heart sped up the way it always did when he looked at you. Your stomach clenched happily, but you frowned and quickly stepped away from him to throw the wet paper towels away along with the gallon that had contained the milk. 

“I’m really sorry,” he apologised again when you returned. 

“Priestly, it’s fine, accidents happen,” you chuckled to convince him and eyed the new gallon of milk. “You ready?” You wiped your hands on your jeans despite still feeling icky. 

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, then looked around at the unusually empty store. “You want me to finish sweeping for you? Or maybe… Do you wanna wash your hands? You look uncomfortable. I can wait,” he rambled.

You laughed at him, this was all too much for you so “early” in the morning. He instantly shut up and became flustered. His free hand flew up to the back of his neck and he laughed awkwardly. 

“Well, if it matters so much to you, put the Closed sign on while I throw the stuff in the dustpan away and wash my hands. I’ll meet you at the counter in five.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically. 

You rolled your eyes at the name, but walked away wordlessly to finish up. You actually were pretty hungry.

When you returned, Preistly had his hands in his trouser’s pockets, he was chewing on his lip, and his cheeks were red from embarrassment. 

“What’s that thing you said earlier about dropping food?” He asked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that hung in the air around the two of you. You smiled as you scanned the items he needed. 

“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, “just a saying.” 

He was quiet for a moment and then you looked up at him. He was already looking at you and your face instantly started to get warm again. You looked away as casually as you could to finish scanning the remaining items and neatly placing them inside a plastic bag. 

“It was funny.”

“Ha, I guess…” you shrugged awkwardly and told him the price of his groceries. 

“Right…” he took out random, balled up dollar bills from his back pocket despite having a wallet with enough space. You smiled curiously and took the money from him. 

God, hurry and leave, you prayed internally as you placed his money in the cash register and took out his change. You dropped three quarters and a nickel into his hand when you began hearing the soft sound of rain hitting the windows and the concrete outside, and the delightful aroma of petrichor sneaking through the vents into the store.

“Fuck,” Priestly muttered, his fingertips grazed your palm and your body lit up like the second the temperature of the universe hit one billion Kelvin after the Big Bang, finally allowing neutrons and protons to form atomic nuclei as they hit and stuck to each other. “The worst day ever.”

You snapped out of your daze, disappointed, but not surprised at his obliviousness. 

“I could give you a ride,” you offered with a shrug, taking your bag from inside the bottom drawer as he took his bag of groceries.

“I keep wasting your time…” he trailed off, but he did not decline your offer. 

“That’s fine. Where do you live?” You made your way around the counter and walked past him to stand at the door and watch the rain slowly come heavier.

“You’re a stranger,” he joked, and you turned to roll your eyes at him. “What? You could secretly be a Mankiller.” You opened the door with a sarcastic laugh and squirmed as rain hit your face.

“Please, look at me,” you scoffed playfully, locking the door to the store once Priestly stepped outside with you. 

“I am,” he said gently. 

You looked up at him with your brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever. My car’s over here,” you brushed him off and quickly led him to your car.

You both sighed once you were safely inside the freshly cleaned car. He laughed to himself as he looked around inquisitively, but you didn't question him. You turned your car on instead to pull out of the driveway and asked him again where he lived as a Britney Spears song played on the radio. This time he finally answered your question seriously.

The conversation was light and you kept asking him about the sandwich shop he worked at and about his friends to avoid talking about yourself or his break up. It was basically small talk, bleh. The conversation was superficial because you didn’t want to get close to him, not now, not when he was freshly broken up and still clearly hurting. 

He ran his hand through his hair once you parked outside his house, somehow he managed to make it look tame. He looked at the time and you waited patiently for him to get out so you could leg it and cry to your friend over the phone about how you were so not over him. 

“Stay,” he proposed suddenly when he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can make you a sandwich, I’m really good at that.” You shook your head at first and racked your brain for some excuse to get away. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it for you, I’ve even got some soda in the fridge. Please, I feel really bad.” You chuckled softly at him and the pleading eyes he gave you. They looked much wider and greener. 

“Fine,” you gave in, “I’m really hungry, so… I guess I could stay for a bit.” He lit up slightly and started to get out of the car before you managed to turn it off. But you caught up with him as he kicked the welcome mat to the side to retrieve his house’s key. 

“You want a sub?” He asked, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a joke out of that and nodded as you entered his messy house. Oh well, he’s been going through a breakup. 

“Oh, God, I forgot it’s a mess,” he apologised when he looked at the star of everything around him. “Close your eyes, pretend you don’t see it,” he pleaded jokingly. 

“As long as I don’t step in something squishy, we’re all good,” you reassured him with a small laugh. You followed him to the kitchen and figured he must be going through the not-eating breakup rather than the eating-my-feelings breakup.

“How big do you want it?” He asked you, setting the bag down on the counter and going to wash his hands.

“How much do you think I can take?” You asked before you could actually filter it out of your mind. He quickly looked at you, amused and intrigued while he dried his hands with a clean towel from inside his cabinet. “Kidding, how big is it?” He laughed loudly at your question which made you get more flustered, but he still gave you a measurement with his hands. “Half of that,” you tried to ignore his face and sat down before your knees gave out from embarrassment. 

“If you can only take half of that, I don’t think you could handle me.” 

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you stopped breathing for a few moments when your heart stuttered and your stomach lurched at the thought.  

This time, you blinked at him in surprise, but your eyes stayed wide, and you felt yourself turn hotter before you both bursted out laughing. 

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[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Clandestine.

You and Stewy know it’s wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?

Part Two. Part Three.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x female Roy reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - in honour of stewy's beautiful appearance in episode 2, please enjoy this!! hoping and praying we get to see a hell of a lot more of him this season <3

Series Masterlist.

Masterlist. Requests.

You’re bored.

To the outside eye, life as a Roy is a dream. Money, cars, designer clothes, big fancy galas filled to the brim with millionaires. It sounds ideal.

It isn’t. Between family drama, backstabbing and betrayal, and directionless small talk, being the youngest Roy sibling is a stifling job. But someone has to do it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Tonight, you find yourself at another Waystar Royco charity gala. The ballroom downtown sparkles with diamonds, champagne flowing and expensive perfume overwhelming. It’s another mandatory job on your list. Attend, smile, wave, make polite conversation, rinse rich men for their money and leave. Simple.

Or so you thought.

You arrived with Roman and Kendall, the both of them immediately separating and making their way to friends and business partners, leaving you stood alone. Fingertips brush the skin of your back that’s exposed by your dress, sending a shiver down your spine.

You smell him before he enters your eyeline. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells expensive. Not the faux, gawdy expensive like most men in the room, but genuinely luxurious. His cologne makes you dizzy. You reach out and hold onto the edge of the table in front of you before you lose your balance.

You feel him before you turn around. He’s warm, and broad, and the crisp white material of his dress shirt is pressing into you. You gasp quietly at his boldness, praying that no one sees the youngest Roy so close to a sworn enemy.

Stewy Hosseini.

Kendall’s third oldest friend. Both a rival and an asset to your family. One of the biggest assholes in New York City.

The man you’re hopelessly in love with.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You honestly hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

Originally, it was sex. Brilliant, mind blowing, earth shattering sex.

Until it wasn’t.

Now, it’s late night phone calls and clandestine meetings and holding hands and apartment hunting and kisses on the forehead. Now, it’s real. It’s become something undeniable.

They’d kill you if they knew.

They’d murder you both. You’d be shunned. Stewy would be dropped and cut from Waystar Royco like he never meant anything in the first place. Your inheritance would be taken away, all Roy privileges revoked.

Basically, it’d be hell. So why do you keep finding yourself considering it?

You’ve never been loved like this. So total, so complete, so all consuming. So unconditional. It’s no secret that the Roy siblings are strangers to love. But not anymore.

Now, you know love. You wake up to love and kiss him on the small patch of skin on his cheek where his beard won’t grow. You dance with love in the kitchen, allowing him to spin you around in your socks, catching you when you slip. You see love across the boardroom, communicating with him silently, having full conversations with just your eyes.

They can deny it all they want, but you know the truth. This is what love is supposed to be. They’re scared of it because it’s unfamiliar. It isn’t material. They’re terrified of love because they can’t touch it, or mould it, or manipulate it. They’re petrified.

You ran into love headfirst, unwittingly. Would you have slept with Stewy that night, well over a year ago, if you’d have known this is how it’d turn out? You’re not sure, honestly. But all you know is that no matter what they say when they inevitably find out, none of it matters. Love is real. And it is astounding.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You with me, sweetheart?” he murmurs into your ear, warm breath raising the hairs on your neck.

“Yeah, baby,” you mutter back, attempting to keep a neutral expression on your face. “I’m here.”

“Where did you go, huh?”

His fingers journey down, brushing over your ass. He gives it a squeeze before stroking it up your hip, resting his hand on your waist.

“Just daydreaming,” you reply.

“About what?” he asks teasingly, caressing your skin in gentle motions. Back, forth. Back, forth. He’s making it hard to concentrate.

“You,” you whisper quietly. He hears you loud and clear. “Always you.”

He wants to kiss you. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to grab your face and smash his lips to yours, consequences be damned. He wants to pick you up and twirl you around and scream “look at the woman I love!”.

Instead, his fingers tighten on your waist. He looks around carefully before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your ear. Then, he moves to stand in front of you. To anyone else, it looks like two old friends having a conversation.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful in that dress,” he tells you, his voice laced with sincerity and admiration. His eyes are raking up and down your frame. The heat of his gaze is making you warm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Hosseini,” you tease. That’s an understatement. His suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to all of his curves. It’s all crisp edges and careful lines. He’s wearing the cufflinks you got him for his birthday, the ones engraved with the both of your initials. The letters are small, tucked away on the underside. No one knows they’re there – your little secret.

Stewy winks at you and goes to take a step forward, but a hand on his arm stops him. A gorgeous woman with flowing brown hair and a silk gown appears at his side, smiling at you politely before turning to him.

“There’s a couple of guys over there asking where you are. They want to talk about the Williams deal.”

He gives you a look drenched in apology before allowing himself to be dragged away. He takes all of the warmth with him, leaving you stood in the ballroom, cold and alone.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You knew he was bringing a date. It’d been a point of discussion the night before.

“We have to keep up appearances, Stewy. It makes sense. I know it doesn’t mean anything, okay. I’m not worried,” you reassure him, carding your hands through his hair. He’s lying with his head in your lap on his couch, eyes closed and brows scrunched. You smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead, before kissing the spot gently.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he sighs defeatedly. The idea of having some random supermodel on his arm at the gala is killing him. What he wouldn’t do for it to be you.

“It’s only one night, baby,” you soothe gently. “I’ll come back here afterwards. It’ll be a couple of hours at most. You know people are going to talk if Stewy Hosseini, the most eligible bachelor of New York, turns up without a date.”

He chuckles heartily, and the vibrations settle in your bones.

“One night,” he agrees. “Just one night.”

With that, he sits up, cradling your face in his hands. He kisses you softly, carefully. He’s so tender with you. No one else in the world gets to see him like this. No one else gets to see him vulnerable. He likes it that way. You do too.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

There’s a pull between you and Stewy. It’s like a magnetic force, dragging you together no matter where you are, or what you’re doing. You feel it in the monotonous board meetings. You feel it at the family events he’s reluctantly invited to by Kendall. You feel it now, as you float around the ballroom, praying for the night to be over.

You allow your mind to drift away, dreaming of what awaits you later tonight. You can picture it perfectly. You and Stewy, curled up in bed, his penthouse bedroom illuminated by candlelight. Glasses of wine discarded on the night stand, sheets thrown across the mattress, legs tangled together. Skin pressed to skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Gentle melodies filling the room, the man underneath you humming softly into your ear. This is heaven, you’ll think. Bury us like this, please.

You can feel when his eyes are on you. Heat prickles over your skin, goosebumps rising. It’s become like a sixth sense, this silent communication between you. You catch his gaze and wink, and you swear you see him blush slightly. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and nods in the direction of the door. You get the hint, and follow him, trailingly behind subtly.

You reach the hallway and look around, but Stewy is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, you feel a warm grip grab your hips, pressing you into the wall.

“Been waiting to get my hands on you all night,” he murmurs into your ear lowly.

He’s trailing his fingers up and down your sides. You can feel him, hot and hard behind you, groaning as he bites at your throat. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, and then your cheek. It’s forbidden and it’s sexy and it’s so gentle it makes your knees wobble.

“Come home with me,” he begs. “Let’s blow this off and get out of here.”

The offer is tempting. So, so tempting. But you know people would put the pieces together. Stewy leaves, you leave… suspicions arise. As easy as it would be to just say fuck it and tell everyone, you want to keep this a secret for a little longer. You want to stay in this little bubble of warmth and love and trust a little longer. You want to stay happy a little longer.

“We can’t,” you whine. “They’ll notice.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replies. “You shouldn’t either.”

You want to disagree, but the way he’s moved his hand to sit at your throat while pressing himself into you is making it hard to think.

“Live a little, baby,” he teases, nipping at your ear.

“Fine! Fuck, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He grabs your hand, giddy smile etched on his face. He’s practically running with you to his car, dress flowing in the breeze behind you, heels clacking against the marble floors. You tumble into the backseats, his lips pressed to yours as you make your way home. Home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. You’re resting comfortably on Stewy’s chest, both of his strong arms wrapped around you. You yawn sleepily, wondering what’s awoken you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You nudge Stewy carefully, waking him.

“There’s someone banging on your door,” you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He throws on a pair of boxers, and moves to investigate the source of the knocking. You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Stewy’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

“Ken?” Stewy questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey, man. Where the fuck is my sister?”

[jawspinner96]

Arthur morgan x fem reader smut

This is very lazily written, I was struck with inspiration and wrote this in one night, so no nitpicking!!! Pls ignore any typos or sentences that sound a little off. This is also my first time posing smut so !!!

*******

You had an easy job, it wasn't fun but the money was pretty good. All you had to do was offer "Deluxe baths" to strangers. It wasn't the career you drempt of as a child, but a couple months ago you were desperate for work and the hotel owner was nice enough to give you this job, not only is it good pay but you also got a free room out of it.

You've encountered your fair share of creeps during your time here, but the hotel owner proved to be good backup.

"Just hollar if you need my help ma'am,"

And he was always there to save you if need be. However, it wasn't often people accepted so a lot of your job was spent lazing about or cleaning.

This day was like any other, business was slow and you were sat in the lobby of the hotel, reading. The door swung open and the bell rung out which caught your attention. You looked up from your book and fixed your eyes on a tall, rugged man, around six foot-ish. His features were hidden behind a weathered had and short untidy beard.

"Ma'am." The man nodded your way and walked up to the front desk.

"Sir." You nodded back and Continued reading, peaking over the pages to look at the man's figure from behind. His unbuttoned shirt paired with a leather vest accentuated his waist and drew your eyes to his large arms. You felt your face grow warmer the longer you stared.

"Let me get a bath, and a room for the night." His voice was deep and husky, yet it flowed smoothly and sounded like music to your ears.

"Alright sir, I've got someone heating the bath up for you right now. That'll be a dollar fifty"

You watched the man make his way upstairs towards the bathroom before closing your book and heading to your own room to prepare. You applied lipstick, cleaned up your eyeliner and sorted your hair.

"Want some company mister ?" You knocked lightly on the door and waited for his response. You weren't expecting him to accept your proposal so you were shocked to hear him accept. You became rather nervous and unsure as to why you were suddenly so scared. You had done this many times before but something about this man was intimidating.

Slowly, you opened the door and made your way in. A faint smell of lavender filled the humid room and hot steam, highlighted by the rays of sun peeking through the foggy window, danced freely throughout the air.

He had his arms resting on each side of the tub, and his eyes closed, which made you feel slightly more at ease. You sat on a stool next to the bath, by his head and began to talk.

"You look like you've had a long day," you purposely kept your voice hushed and soft.

"You have no idea." He smiled contently as you wet your hands and began to scrub his scalp tenderly.

"Well... nothin a hot bath can't fix." His hair was rough in your palms and you could feel the weeks of dirt clinging to each strand. Despite this, the man didn't smell at all, Infact a rather pleasant, musky aroma emitted from his body.

You began to let your hands wander, settling on his shoulders. You palmed his skin attempting to soothe the spots you thought might be most sore. He leaned his head back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. You could feel him becoming less tense from your touch and smiled a little to yourself, proud of your work.

"Damn, that feels good," He muttered under his breath as you began to massage his arms. You marvled at the feeling of his large biceps under your fingers. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do out there?"

He opened and eye and looked right at you. For a moment you were nervous, did you ask something offensive? However, you were far too flustered by his heavy eye contact to care.

"That's something I prefer to keep to myself ma'am." You apologised and Continued to wash the stranger.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached further into the water to scrub his abdomen, then his legs. You looked up from the water for a second, you almost had a heart attack as your eyes met with his. He watched intently, as you massaged his calves and rinsed the bubbles from his leg. Both of your faces were flushed from the heat, and the tension that filled the air.

"I reckon that's clean enough ma'am," He lightly grabbed your hand and held it in between his own, "Thank you very much."

His eyes stared right through your own and you felt your cheeks burning up, though you couldnt really read his expression.

"You're very welcome Mr...."

"Morgan, Arthur morgan."

You beamed a smile "Well, you're very welcome Mr Morgan."

Swiftly, you exited the room with your heart thumping in your chest and butterflies swirling in your stomach.

As you headed back to your room you couldn't shake the image of his face from your mind. His tired, squinting eyes, soft lips. His brows were bushy and unkempt along with his beard, however the scruffy and tired appearance only added to his charm. You weren't sure you'd ever seen someone so handsome before. His nose was crooked but fit so harmoniously on his face along with all his other features.

You recalled what his skin felt like against yours as you sat on your window sil and day dreamed of his muscular frame and chestnut hair.

*******

"Can I interest you in some tea?" Another part of your job was to ensure the happiness of paying customers and to provide the best service you could.

This meant going round and offering tea to those who were staying the night, sometimes you provided them with dinner if you were feeling generous enough to cook a big batch of food that day.

"Sure, come in." Instantly, you recognised the voice coming from the other side of the door. You heart picked up it's pace as you fumbled with the door knob, all while keeping an eye on your tray of tea.

You entered the room to see Arthur sat on the bed, the setting sun resting perfectly on his face. His hat from before was no where to be seen allowing you to see all his features. Messy strands of hair lay perfectly on his face, framing his eyes and Chisled jaw. You couldn't help but admire the sight, a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

"Here ya'are Mr Morgan," You placed a cup of tea on the side table and put the now empty tray under your arm.

"Call me Arthur." He smiled at you as he took a sip of the hot beverage, "I was hopin I'd see you again ma'am."

"Is that right?" A smirk creeped upon your face and you felt those Butterflies from before beginning to awake in your stomach. You playfully responded, "Well i'm glad you enjoyed My services so much Mr Mo- Arthur."

A laugh escaped his nose and he looked down to take another sip of tea.

"Well, I'll be on my way now. Hollar at me if you need anythin'." Nervously, You turned on your heel and made your way to the door before Arthur spoke up again.

"Wait," you stopped in your tracks and turned to face Arthur who was now making his way towards you. The speed of your heart rate picked you thought it'd jump out of your chest and ran away if it could.

Arthur stopped, just meer centimetres away. He towered over you causing a confusing mixture of emotions, your head was spinning.

His eyes scanned your face, your quivering lips and eyes, which darted frantically around the room, avoiding any sort of eye contact. You swallowed as his eyes wandered to your lips. His mouth parted slightly and his breath grew heavier before he began to speak again.

"Am i scaring you, miss?" His voice seemed sweet, filled with concern though you couldn't help but notice sinister undertone in the way he spoke.

You plucked up the courage to look him in his eye before responding, "No.."

You were unsure of your own answer amd he could tell. He smiled slightly at that, hesitantly rasing a hand to your chin, "Would you mind if I.."

His lips parted further as they searched for your own, your eyes fluttering shut as you both made contact. His free hand snaked around your waist as you reached up around his neck, causing you to drop the tea tray on the floor.

He pulled away for a second, gazing into your eyes as his hand held the side of your cheek. Your heart pounded, and you longed to kiss him again. How was this stranger making you feel this way?

You brought him back in for another kiss, this time you were hungry for it and he was too. You moved together rhythmically and passionately. Your bodies backed up aggressively against the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

A gasp left your mouth, as he removed your hands from his neck and pinned them both at either side of your head against the door. The sudden movement made you knees grow weeker and you felt yourself buckling underneath him.

He was strong, you couldn't escape his grip if you tried, not that you wanted to. He raised both your arms above your head and held your wrists in place with one hand.

His free hand began to explore your body, cupping a breast through your blouse. You could feel the smirk on his lips as a slight moan left your mouth.

His hand travelled further down, to your skirt, and he began to lift up the fabric to reach your thigh from underneath.

You could already feel yourself becoming increasingly wetter, and the sensation of his rough palms groping your skin made you only more aroused. His fingers moved further up to your panties and he began to tease your clit through your soaked underwear, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips.

"Damn girl," He laughed a husky laugh mockingly "I've bearly touched you."

Your cunt ached as you squeezed your legs together while he continued to play with your clit, using his thumb to rub painfully slow circles around it.

"F-fuck..." You found yourself unable to say anything in response only growing weaker to his touch.

His fingers hooked against your underwear and slowly he began to pull them down your legs, while he brought your mouth to his for another kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours.

His hand palmed your pussy while the other continued to hold you in place. You squirmed as he slid two fingers into your cunt and began to slowly pump them in and out of you.

Lewd noises filled the room as he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. Eventually, he let go of your wrists, causing you to collapse against his chest while he continued to play with your cunt. He rested his free hand On the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

You moans grew louder as you found yourself closer to climax. He stopped moving abruptly, which made you cry out a little. He chuckled slightly as you began to grind against his fingers, desperately needing to cum.

"Easy girl..." You buried your head in his chest as he once again began to move his fingers in that same rhythm that had brought you so close to orgasm before.

You eyes rolled back and you squeezed your hands into fists against his body, unsure of what to do with yourself as he continued to pump in and out of you mercilessly.

Eventually the coil in your stomach snapped and you found yourself spasming around his fingers. Your legs shook as you came into the palm of his hand, your vision went white and all comprehansive thoughts in your head had vanished. You moaned his name, loudly, sqeezing your eyes shut as he guided you through your orgasm. He removed his hand from under you skirt and let go of you, causing you you to collapse on the ground.

"Damn, your pathetic," He laughed at your feeble position and you had never felt so vulnerable, humiliated or turned on. "Don't worry girl, we ain't finished."

You panted on the floor as he stood over you. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Arthur had seemed so sweet before, but now it seemed he was getting off on your neediness.

You looked up and watched as he began to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. The size made you a little nervous but you could already feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You rose on your knees and looked up at Arthur. With both hands you grabbed the base of his dick and parted your lips. Your tongue swirled around the tip and you could already taste the precum dripping from him.

"Atta girl," arthur praised your eagerness as you began to move your hands rhythmically up and down his shaft, your tongue focusing on the most sensitive areas.

A satisfied groan left Arthur's mouth as you took him deeper into your mouth. You could feel the veins that ran along his length as your tongue glided along his skin.

You looked up at his face, watching it contort in pleasure. You watched as his mouth hung open, heavy breaths and cuss words escaping from his lips. His brows furrowed when he grew impatient and his hands found their way to the back of your head, gripping strands of hair and shoving his cock deeper down your throat, making you gag.

Quickly, and uncaring of how you felt, Arthur continued to use your throat as a his personal fuck toy. His dick twitched as you choked on his size and struggled to cope with his harsh thrusts.

"Fuck.." Arthur let a low growl as thrusted himself deeply in your mouth one last time. Thick spurts of semen dripped down your throat and from the corners of your mouth. He removed his cock from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. With one hand he wiped the cum from your lips and with the other he pulled back you head, forcing you to look at him. "How'd that taste girl?"

You found yourself unable to respond, you weren't to sure what you were even supposed to say. Arthur zipped up his trousers and crouched to your level, taking your chin in-between his index and thumb. You marvled at his reddend cheeks and the sweat that glistend on his forehead, unable to think clearly.

Your lips remained parted as you stared at him. Your cunt ached for him, begging to be filled.

"You look so desperate," he teased. You swallowed your shame and averted your gaze from his.

You could feel yourself becoming wetter just from his words and began leaning in closer, a desperate attempt to beg for more all while your lips were sealed.

"Guess that's too bad," He let go of you abruptly and stood up leading you to awkwardly do the same.

"W-wait.." all you could muster up was a weak stutter. You were honestly offended but weren't sure if you could be. You didnt know this man and he didnt know you. Something that should be intimate wasn't intimate at all. Sure, you'd given him a bath but that was paid for and professional. This? This was no where near the same thing. "I-is that it?"

Arthur laughed. "What? You ain't had enough yet?"

The disappointment was more that noticable on your face. Arthur didn't say anything else, just laughed. He leaned close and reached behind you, opening the door to the hallway.

"Sorry girl, don't wanna overstay your welcome."

And as quickly as you entered, you had been shooed out. Without your tea tray. Your mind was running and you couldn't think, all you could do was make your way back to your room in a daze.

Your hair was a mess and your skin was reddened; still glistening with sweat. you lay on your bed, frustrated. Why didn't you go back and demand him to get the fuck out? Or at least ask for your tray back? Why did you even let him use your body like that in the first place?

Shame washed over you, you were unable to sleep that night. You couldn't help but wonder if he had gone all the way with you, you wouldn't be as pissed off as you were. A small part of you wanted to see him again.

[meerkat-sims]

Willupette County property developer Johannes van Rossum and his neglected young trophy wife Maëlle

@muckleberryjam-inspired lookbooks below the cut:

Genetics: Default skin and overlay by @nesurii, eyes by @squea, nose overlay by Samantha Gump at @sims4nexus, eyebrows by @twisted-cat, lips by @pictureamoebae, eyelashes by @kijiko-sims, cleavage overlay by @pralinesims, body hair by @luumia and recategorised by @javitrulovesims, hairline by @rheallsim, wrinkles by @nolan-sims. Johannes' beard is by @golyhawhaw and all three of Maëlle's hairs are by @laeska. Johannes' hair is from Growing Together.

Maëlle's makeup (I always just use the same items and change the swatches): eyeshadow by @akalukery x Farfetch cosmetics, eyeliner by @obscurus-sims, blush by @kumikya, lipstick by @stretchskeleton and nails by @joliebean.

Now onto the outfits!

EVERYDAY👕 

Turtle-y Flawless: suit (TSR) by @pixelette-cc, shoes from Seasons.

Desperate Housewife: dress by @sentate, jewellery by @joliebean, tights and shoes by @serenity-cc.

FORMAL👔

Double-Breast To Impress: suit by @ice-creamforbreakfast, shoes from Vintage Glamour.

Crown Jewel In The Collection: dress and jewellery by @sentate, flowers by @laeska, gloves by @joliebean.

ATHLETIC⚽

Don't Look Down: jacket from Seasons, shorts by @ice-creamforbreakfast, socks from Outdoor Living, shoes from Incheon Arrivals.

With Poise 'n' Grace: ensemble by @caio-cc, tights same as Everyday.

SLEEP🌝

Cold Nights Pour Homme: outfit by @ice-creamforbreakfast

Cold Nights Pour Femme: outfit by @serenity-cc

PARTY🎉

Host With The Most: sweater by @ice-creamforbreakfast, trousers by @quiddity-jones, loafers from Cats and Dogs (I may have gotten the type of trousers wrong, but Quiddity did make them!)

Mom's Spaghetti (Straps): dress and jewellery by @ice-creamforbreakfast, shoes same as Everyday

SWIMWEAR👙

Tip-Top In Teal: ensemble by @ice-creamforbreakfast

Halterneck Heartache: swimsuit by @serenity-cc

HOT WEATHER🌞

Because I Got High (Waist): glasses from Incheon Arrivals (I think?) outfit by @ice-creamforbreakfast, loafers from Cats and Dogs

Fresh Lady May: sunglasses from Seasons, everything else from this set by @serenity-cc

COLD WEATHER☃️

January The Old: cap from Cottage Living, coat by @nucrests, gloves from Horse Ranch, trousers same as Party, shoes from My Wedding Stories

Warm Within: coat by @joliebean, gloves by @sentate, earrings same as Party, tights same as Everyday and Athletic, boots by @serenity-cc

[dragons-and-pandas]

Hi my name is Blackbeard and I have a long black beard (that’s how I got my name) with long black and grey hair and black smudges around my eyes that look like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like The Kraken (AN: if you don’t know who that is then get da hell out of here!). I’m a pirate but my teeth are straight and white. I have brown skin and loads of tattoos. I am on a ship called The Revenge. I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. For example today I was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a black t shirt with black leather pants and black leather gloves and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick and black eyeliner and eyeshadow. I was walking around on deck and it was raining and there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of the ex-members of Stede Bonnet’s crew stared at me. I put my middle finger up at them.

[shefightslikeagirl]

Hobby Drama: Emilie Autumn's Asylum [Part 1]

u/pillowcase-of-eels posted a link to their fandom-and-EA-history write up to the r/EmilieAutumn Reddit, and I thought it would be a fun project to share! 2 out of 7 parts have been posted to r/HobbyDrama so far.

Picture this: it's the early 2010s, somewhere in the western world. Instagram is a novelty, Harvey Weinstein runs Hollywood, almost no one on Earth leans one way or the other about RNA vaccines, and Donald Trump is that one real estate guy you vaguely remember from Home Alone 2. New player Lady Gaga is the most interesting thing to have happened to pop since Madonna, and the whole industry is attempting to catch up; Miley Cyrus is the chick who used to be on Hannah Montana; Melanie Martinez hasn't hatched yet. The time of Oddball Concept Divas is dawning just below the horizon.

You're a Bowie-loving student who skipped goth night at the club to tag along with your art school friends for a very special evening. You're a giddy sixteen-year old rocking cat ears, purple Wet 'n Wild eyeliner, a polyester petticoat, and a coffin-shaped backpack. You're an effete theater kid who sewed his own waistcoat for the occasion, but won't dare wear it to school the next day. You're a buff, bearded dude in a Venom shirt who's trying not to look too excited, since your girlfriend supposedly had to drag you here. You're a slightly bemused parent leaning against the back wall of the venue, sipping a warm half-pint, wondering if this isn't all a bit dark for a tween. ("It's called 'Victoriandustrial', mom," you've been told in the car, "and it's not dark, it's art.")

On stage is a pink-haired woman, with red porcelain-doll lips and a heart painted on her cheek. Among a set of antique consoles, twee tchotchkes, teacups and plastic rats, she pounces and twirls in glittery platform boots, tattered striped stockings, and a tightly laced crystal-studded corset that looks like it's splattered in blood. This is ostensibly a concert, but there is no live band. Where one would expect a drum kit or a bass, three bedazzled burlesque vixens act as back-up singers and dancers, with the occasional vaudeville act a fire-twirling number, a fan dance, throwing pastries and spitting tea into the audience. Lots of wholesome girl-on-girl kissing, too. The music on the backing track is a genre-bender of clanging beats and beeps, lofty orchestral strings, and the frantic hammering of a MIDI harpsichord, as the pink-haired frontlady sings of heartache and betrayal and drowning. Think if the Brontë sisters had invented industrial rock.

The audience gasps in excitement when the lady whips out a vamped-out wireless electric violin. With rockstar cool and virtuoso poise, she leans into the instrument, touches the bow to the strings, and tears out a single plaintive, impeccably distorted high note. Then her fingers go wild, and for a few seconds, everything is perfect suspended animation. Uncannily perfect, almost. Just behind you, you hear someone whisper: "Wait, is she miming it?"

[lostfirefly]

Baby, baby when you're looking deep in my eyes, I know you're seeing past my make-up

I know everyone has a story like this, but I decided to write my version too. I also have the same theme planned for my OC, but it will be a completely different tone. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Buggy asks you to help him apply makeup.

Words: 2524

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “All That I Got (The Make Up Song)” by Fergie.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Captain Buggy, the love of my life, I was on deck now and one of your freaks handed over some kind of box.” You entered your shared cabin and froze at the doorway. 

“Nine, ten. And a couple more for luck.” Buggy was wearing only pajama pants and doing push-ups with his fists. “Eleven. Twelve. Four times twelve, I'm still pretty good.” 

“Geeez! You should've warned me about this. I walk into the cabin, and there’s such a sexy picture. You’re half naked and doing push-ups.” You smiled and raised your eyebrows.

 “Like what you see, huh?” He chuckled. 

“I don’t just like it, I’m delighted! My love, the box.” You shook the package slightly.

“Wait. I'll do three more push-ups. One. Two. Three.” Buggy stood up from the floor. “The seduction program is completed, right, pumpkin?” He kissed you on the forehead. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I love you, bastard! How did it happen that you took me to your ship? I remember my mother was screaming, “Y/N, he's a clown, stop, what are you doing”, while you grabbed the essentials from my closet and then carried me up the stairs on your shoulder.” You kissed Buggy on his cheek.

“See? I liked you.” Buggy wrapped one arm around your waist, and lightly poked your nose with his other arm’s finger. “I came.” Poked again. “And got you.” Poked again. “It's simple.”  

“Yes, just like a real pirate!” You giggled. 

“Hey, I’m a real pirate! We are on my ship, Y/N. I have my own flag and the crew.” 

“Oh, I'm sorry, my love!” You rolled your eyes theatrically. “How could I forget? The scariest crew in the whole world! And you are the most formidable of all the pirates! And you will definitely become the king of the pirates, and you will be feared in all parts of the world. But until that happens, look at the package. The new boy with grey hair who joined your crew a few days ago gave it to me. Said it was sent by some bearded guy.”

“Oh, this is my new set of cosmetics.” Buggy grabbed the box from your hands. “Listen, no one has seen or knows that I’m without... well... without makeup.” 

“No, I made sure no one saw.” You pecked him on his nose. “You know, this is even great. Can you imagine that I’m the only person in the world who sees you without makeup in the morning? I’m the happiest girl. Open up!” You clapped your hands. “I want to see what's there!”

Buggy plopped down on the bed and opened the box. You sat on his lap, began stroking his back and kissed his temple. 

“What's here? Shadows, powder, eyeliners. Lord, why do you need 50 lipsticks?” Your eyes rounded.

“We won’t be able to moor in the near future. I need supplies.” Buggy was taking cosmetics out of a box. 

“But not fifty lipsticks, Buggy!”

“I need this, because one cute pumpkin uses my cosmetics too.” He took one of the tubes out of the box. “Look! New mascara! Waterproof! So if I fall into the water, I'll at least partially remain handsome!” 

“I won’t let you fall into the water! I still need you in this life.” You took the mascara and twirled in your hands. 

“Okay, I need to go out on deck and go check on the fucking crew. But first I need to do my makeup.” Buggy looked at you and winked. “Can you help me, pumpkin?”

“With great pleasure, my love!” You kissed him on his lips. “I’m the luckiest girl. And you made me this, remember that.” 

Buggy stood up from the bed, holding you in his arms, and carried you to the dressing table. It was a huge wooden table with a large mirror and several bright lamps located around the perimeter of the table.

“I love doing this, to be honest!” You said happily. “Watching my Buggy turn into Buggy the Clown, but even under a layer of makeup I see the real you!” 

You stood up from his lap, took his makeup bag, placed it on the table and rubbed your hands. “Let's start! First the white powder.” You took a round black box and a large fluffy sponge. “Close your eyes!”

Buggy widened his eyes. “How should I look at you? No, pumpkin! It doesn’t work like that!” 

“Holy moly!” You rolled your eyes and threw up your hands. “It's starting again! Close your eyes, I'll try to make it faster.” 

“Okay! But I hope that when I open them, you'll be naked.” Buggy smiled widely. 

You dipped the sponge into the powder and began to gently apply it to his face. “Ouch, Buggy! Stop pinching my butt!”

“Sorry, Y/N, I couldn't resist. You're seducing me with your clothes.” He moved his hands to your tailbone.

“I can't seduce you! I'm wearing jeans overalls, Buggy! And I look like a garden gnome.” You said, continued applying the powder. 

“Have you seen yourself? This is one hell of a jumpsuit. Your ass looks fucking amazing in it!” Buggy clicked his tongue. 

“Asshole! Don't distract me!” You bit your tongue and tried to stay focused, running the sponge over his face. “And there you go... Done! Now for the eyeliner.” 

You picked up the black tube, unscrewed the cap, and carefully looked at the brush. You examined Buggy’s face from all sides, choosing the best angle of the light. “Oh, there! Don't open your eyes!”

“Have you undressed yet, baby?” 

“God, you're unbearable sometimes. Don't move!” You started to run the brush along his lash line when your hand twitched. “Stop pinching my butt! Otherwise, I'll poke you in the eye one day.” 

“Oh, if you will be naked at the same time, I’m not against such sacrifices.” Buggy smirked and opened his eyes. 

“Close your eyes! You saw me naked at night, calm down!” You squinted and drew a thin black line with eyeliner. 

“It was a long time ago, Y/N. I’ve already forgotten everything.” Buggy exhaled sadly and stretched his back a little.

“That was two hours ago, Buggy! Sit still!” You ran the eyeliner over his other eye and carefully examined the result of the work. “It turns out beautifully! Why is that all? Because I have a handsome canvas.” You pecked him on the lips, and he visibly blushed. “My Captain got embarrassed.” You giggled. “What's next? Bones or eye shadow? Let's draw bones.” 

You picked up a pencil, white paint and a sponge, and sat on his lap. “It will be more convenient.” You wrinkled your forehead and nose slightly. 

“This is too much, Y/N! Why are you doing this?” Buggy opened his eyes and placed his hands on your waist.  

“I do nothing.” You bit your bottom lip and began to trace the outline of the bones. "I'm just drawing." 

"You're sitting on me, biting your lips. It's kind of a turn on." 

“What's wrong with you today? You can't calm down.” You gently ran the brush down to his eyebrows. “Eyes, Buggy.”

“I'm a dirty pirate, pumpkin!” Buggy closed his eyes and began to lower his hands to your hips. “I never calm down.” 

“Yes, I noticed. Sit still, please!” You slowly began to move the brush from his eyebrows to below. “You have wrinkles. I like it.” You dipped the brush into the jar and felt Buggy’s hands begin to stroke your thighs. “If you don’t stop doing this now, I will tear off your hands and put them in the chest. Sit still, otherwise everything will be crooked. I can’t allow the captain to come on deck with crooked makeup. The ocean is calm and we can’t blame the storm.” You slapped his hands and continued drawing. “Hah, a little more and I will be able to do all this with my eyes closed.”

You grabbed his chin with one hand and turned his head in different directions. “Looks good. Look.”

Buggy opened his eyes and made a displeased face. 

“What's happened?” You asked, looking from his face to the mirror. 

“Not what I wanted. The bones should be bigger, Y/N. What is this? It looks more like the bones of a fucking dead quail than part of a Jolly Roger.” Buggy looked at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Oh, my God. How much more?” You rolled your eyes. “Should I draw something all over your face? I did bones as usual.” 

“No, not as usual. It’s different.” Buggy made a sad face. 

“Okay. Now I'll redo it a little.” You growled, erased the ends of the bones, and began drawing again. “Buggy! Stop it!”

“I do nothing!” He shrugged, answering calmly. 

“You're stroking my neck. Don't distract me, asshole.” You drew an outline for a larger drawing.

“It’s not me. It’s you sitting beautifully on me.” 

“You are unbearable.” You ran the brush a little more and squinted. “Look now, capricious boy. Are you happy now?” 

Buggy looked in the mirror for a long time, tilting his head now to the right, now to the left. “Now it is better.” 

“Hurray for me! Now I’ll cover them up for you and start working on the shadows.”  You dipped the sponge into the white paint and began to paint over the bones, humming softly. “It’s getting better and better. If you hadn't been fidgeting and pawing me, the whole process wouldn't have taken so long. Little mischievous boy.” You kissed his nose. 

“I'm not a little boy. Little boys don't do what we did this morning.” Buggy giggled idiotically and placed his hands on your waist. “That was so-o-o good! I like hearing your voice screaming my name loudly.” 

“Shit, I hope no one on the crew heard me.” You carefully ran the sponge over the white layer of paint again. 

“Fuck them! Let them hear. I’m the captain, and even if anyone says anything bad about you, I’ll throw him overboard.” Buggy wrapped his arms around your waist and looked at your concentrated face. 

“Thank you, my formidable protector.” You pecked him on the lips. “I love you!” You looked at his forehead again. “Okay, I'm done with the bones. Now for the shadows. ” You took a box of blue shadows and a brush. “Oh, I remember how at the beginning of our relationship, you were dying of jealousy when I helped your entire crew with makeup.”

“I wasn't dying of jealousy. I just didn't like it.” Buggy slowly rubbed your back. 

“Close your eyes. I'll draw you your blue things.” You looked down at him and saw him shaking his head negatively. “You don't want to close your pretty eyes? But you have to, Buggy. I promise, when you open them, I’ll be here.” 

Buggy exhaled sadly, closed his eyes and raised his head a little.

“Up, down. Wider here, narrower here. Blue here and here” You lowered the brush into the shadows and continued applying them to his face. “The perfect combination with the color of your eyes and hair. What are your plans for the evening? If you won't be too tired, maybe we will sit on the deck with wine and will look at the stars? I love it when we spend our evenings like this.” 

“Sounds great.” He slightly nodded. “Moreover, I bought you some bottles of wine when we landed on the island.” 

“Thank you, my love!” You pecked his lips again. “Done! So. Look. Do you like it?” 

Buggy squinted and looked at himself in the mirror for a long time. “Not bad.” He exhaled.

“You don't like it, right?”  You stroked his hair. 

“Well, Y/N.. You know, it all needs to be brighter.” 

“But it's still so bright, Buggy.” You looked in the mirror and then at his face.

“Not bright enough, pumpkin.” Buggy shrugged.

You glanced at his upset face. “Okay. I'll fix it now.” You stood up from his lap and began rummaging through his makeup bag. “Where is the glitter? I can't find it.”

“I moved it to the second drawer from the bottom yesterday.” He pointed to the drawer.

“Ok.” You leaned over, heard a giggle from behind you, and glanced at him. “Did you do this on purpose, clown? Did you purposely move the jars down so I could bend over, and you could look at my ass?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded contentedly, without a trace of regret on his face. 

“Idiot!” You laughed and shook your head. 

“What? You have a nice ass, Y/N and I like looking at it.”

You found the glitter and sat back on his lap. “You're lucky we're far out to sea and I can't escape from you.” 

“So that’s why I took you far out to sea so that you couldn’t escape from me.” Buggy hugged you and kissed you on the lips. “It was a strategic move, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes and dipped your brush into the glitter. “Now I will make my bright and handsome clown even brighter and more handsome. One. Two. Three. Look. What do you think?”

“Perfect, Y/N.” He snapped his fingers.

“And now, mascara.” You took the mascara in your hands, unscrewed the cap and looked carefully at the brush. You carefully placed your fingers on his cheekbones, pursed your lips and swiped mascara over his eyelashes several times. “Now your beautiful eyes look more expressive. Okay, we only have lips left.” You took his makeup bag and took out lipstick from there. You unscrewed the cap and unscrewed the lipstick spout. “Put your sweet lips closer to me.” 

“I heard something similar this morning from myself.” Buggy chuckled again. 

“Shut up, idiot.” You swiped the lipstick over his lips a few time. You set it aside and running your fingers across his lips, beginning to smear it around his mouth. “Damn, I think I overdid with lipstick today. See?” You showed him your red hand, which was smeared with a thick layer. 

“Oh, I know a way to deal with this!” Buggy hugged you tighter and pressed his lips to yours. You just squeaked something through the kiss, lightly patted him on the shoulder, but realizing that he wouldn’t stop, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yes, that's much better.” You answered quietly, wiping your lips. 

Buggy looked at you, exhaled heavily and buried the top of his head into your chest. 

“What's wrong, my love?” You stroked his head. 

“Nothing, Y/N. I’m gathering strength for the day. I don’t want to go anywhere, but...” He muttered under his breath. 

“Captain’s affairs won’t take care of themselves.” You said quietly. 

Buggy nodded silently. You got up from his lap, watched him get dressed, periodically glancing at you. 

You helped him with the bandana and kissed him before leaving. “If you feel sad in the middle of the day, just find me. I’ll hug you, and you’ll feel better, agreed?” 

Buggy nodded and kissed the top of your head. 

“Have a nice day, my Captain Buggy. I love you!” You stroked his shoulders. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[kcuf-ad]

I have an idea in which, the girls from Yugioh are waiting for the guys to finish preparing.

Like, it has been an hour, and they are fully prepared, but the guys are taking forever and Tea is listening to music, Alexis and Akiza are dueling, Tori is watching the clock, Zuzu is looking over her New cards and Skye is looking up news while the guys?

Yugi is using eyeliner, Jaden using a hairbrush, Yusei is shaving his nonexisting beard, Yuma is filling the air with hair spray, Yuya is using a hair straightner and Yusaku is putting too much gel in his hair.

[not-a-matopoeia]

HEAD CANNON HILLS I PERSONALLY CHOOSE TO DIE ON:

Fight me (lol)

Bruce Wayne

Gray Hairs are mostly in and around his temples and beard- also he won’t dye it

Asexual but not sex repulsed (it just feels right)

Definitely experienced with makeup, sure to cover bruises and stuff but also he definitely had a phase where he wore eyeliner cause why not

Autistic

Dick Grayson

Crooked nose

Speaks some Roma still but has forgotten most of it, which makes him upset

People deffo thought he was gay all through school, and they weren’t wrong…or right (he’s some form of queer)

Gymnastics teacher as a side job

ADHD

Oldest Daughter SyndromeTM

Jason Todd

I think that Jason runs a book club with a bunch of middle aged women, and they talk about classic lit

Theater Kid (gay)

Good with kids, reluctantly

Has freckles

Hair is caused by Marie Antoinette syndrome

Struggled with body dysmorphia after being revived

Keeps all his receipts (they’re in a box in the kitchen) and is stingy with money

Tim Drake

Wears a Medical Identification bracelet for the spleen thing (it’s recommended guys I looked it up cause I’m normal)

Has acne

Chased Batman and Robin around with that damn camera (I fucking love this)

Has anxiety

Bisexual (not a HC but I thought I’d mention it)

Would eat the coffee grounds

Listens to video game osts

(Bring the skateboard back)

Damian

Strong nose

Just very strong features generally

Giggles, or full on cackles but there’s no In between

I think it’s be cute if he became an art therapist or a vet

Autistic

Cass

Cuts her own bangs, they look horrible<3

Lesbian

Tired to dye her hair once (with Steph and Babs)never again

Steph

Grew up in crime ally (idk where she lived so I choose to believe this- this could also be the truth, again I cannot remember rn)

Freckles

Butterfly Clips

Bisexual

Curly hair

Alfred

Had chased multiple people off of Wayne Manors premises with his shotgun ‘

Got second place in a chili cook off one time and still hasn’t recovered

Extra:

Dick and Jason are big into Taylor Swift, Jason because I think he’d like ballads/the lyrics in songs and Dick because he’s Dick

Selina Kyle actually likes the Robins, and her and Steph got along well

Jason and Steph have really thick Gotham accents, which I like to think is like a Jersey accent, Jason’s shows up more when he’s upset in any capacity, Steph’s is always there and was never trained out of her

Dick has this weird accent where it’s very clearly not anything American, but it’s not not American, and it’s because he moved so much and was around people woth so many different accents that his voice never settled on one

Damian talks to himself in Arabic- Jason knows a bit of it

Cass is a messy eater (this isn’t cannon is it?)

I think it’s be funny to imagine Tim, Cass and Steph going to High School together

Steph was that one girl in the Cookie Monster pjs in high school, and Tim was like this weird goth/skater kid

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hii, I was the anon from the makeup request, the one with the bachelors

I love it! thanks for your answer, but now that I read my ask I realized I wrote it all wrong 🤡

What I wanted to ask is what you think would be their reaction if the farmer asked to put make up on them. Like, it may be something basic or some of that "turning my bf into a kpop idol" type of makeup

I hope you don't mind me asking again 😅

Ooooh, you mean that.

Of course, I don't mind writing about this scenario at all! Let's consider it a continuation of that headcanon. Thanks for the question 💕🫰

Stardew Valley:

Alex:

"Hon, why don't you ask someone else? Haley, for example?"

Alex isn't particularly happy about the very idea of make-up, thinking it's a 'girly things'.

"Honey, you sat with a face mask for two hours yesterday." "That's different!"

Still agreeing to Farmer's request.

Alex didn't like the make-up. No, Farmer did it all right, it's just the sheer feel of make-up... The athlete wants to wash it all off.

"Sorry, love, not for me."

Shane:

"Sure, why not."

Shane had already tried make-up on himself when he was in Emily's clothes therapy, so this wasn't new to him.

True, he'll grumble if the make-up takes longer than an hour.

But the results! Shane looks like a cool metal star!

The Farmer is happy with his work. Shane is happy as well.

Elliott:

Elliott sure spends a lot of time and money caring for his gorgeous hair.

Face cosmetics, on the other hand....

Sure, scrubs and face masks are in his kit too, but he's not really a fan of foundation and eyeliner.

"My soul, I just try to look naturally beautiful!" ("Nothing against the make-up itself, though.")

If Farmer wants the most minimal make-up, however, the writer will go along with it.

Sam:

"Sure, baby! Make me a rock star!"

Easier said than done, because Sam keeps fidgeting as Farmer tries to apply his rock band make-up.

"That tickles!" "Sam, don't move!"

Very pleased with his cool make-up.

Sam will take a hundred selfies of himself and Farmer and brag about how talented his partner is and how cool he is.

Will wear make-up all the time (until Jodi makes him wash it off).

Sebastian:

As I said earlier, Sebastian uses eyeliner (I'll fight with everyone for that headcanon).

So he'll always be happy to have Farmer help him.

Sebby hasn't really tried the other facial cosmetics, but he won't refuse Farmer when they ask.

Stands as steadfast as a statue.

Super ultra emo make-up done! Everyone's happy.

Harvey:

"Oh, no, darling. I shouldn't."

In fact, Harvey had once considered it to disguise skin imperfections on his face.

However, the finicky doctor would take a long time to go through the cosmetics.

"How, in the Yoba's name, do they even sell these things? They're bad for the skin. And this foundation has been the cause of allergies in many of my patients!"

To be honest, Harvey would be more against make-up than for it. His skin health is more important to him.

Stardew Valley Expanded:

Magnus Rasmodius:

Heh. Good luck to them, with his thick beard....

"Should I shave it off-" "No."

Magnus finds it unnecessary, so he politely declines the idea.

"Then how do you know the instant make-up spell?" "A talented wizard is talented at everything."

Farmer can try to do his make-up in his sleep, but if he wakes up, Farmer will levitate the rest of the night.

Victor:

On the one hand, Victor does not consider make-up as something important for him.

On the other hand, the Farmer looks at him with puppy eyes...

"Well, okay..." A rather strange feeling for him. But the result amazed him.

Victor looks quite fresh now, and yet the make-up is unnoticeable. It's like it's not even there!

"Okay, I take it back, honey. It was a good idea."

Lance:

Oh, Lance does care about his appearance, that's undeniable. But he devotes more time to his hair and scrubs than to his facial cosmetics.

The adventurer will politely decline heavy makeup. Especially - in this heat on Ginger Island.

However, if it's something as inconspicuous and light as possible, he'll let the Farmer work on his face.

"Why do you need a makeup spell then?" "A talented wizard is talented at everything, my love."

We've heard that somewhere before...