#because live feeders LOVE him

[feeder86]

The Neighbor's Boy

“So, do you want to tell us what the fuck is going on?” laughed Martin as Nick’s new boyfriend headed away to the bathroom.

Nick smirked and sat back in the chair, filling his broad, muscular chest with air and looking around at all the chubby boys’ expressions. “What?” he teased, pretending not to know what they were all so surprised about. “Duncan’s a nice guy.”

“But you don’t date nice guys,” Martin countered. “In order to date nice guys, you need to be a nice guy yourself.”

“Ouch!” Nick chuckled, enjoying his bad boy status with the guys. Despite his kind eyes and pretty face, Nick was never without an ulterior motive. “That hurt!” he lied, looking around and seeing even the guy behind the bar checking him out. “I’ll have you know that lots of people think I’m a very ‘nice’ person!”

“That’s because they don’t know you like we do,” Ben contributed, looking around at all of the other chubs in their circle. “And I bet sweet little Duncan doesn’t even know you’re a feeder, does he?”

Nick raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Of course he doesn’t.”

The chubs all looked at each other disapprovingly, despite the kinky thrill they secretly felt. Each one of them owed a good few pounds of their own blubbery physiques to Nick and his incredible ability to arouse them whilst they ate for him; the best and most skilled feeder they had ever come across. “You’re not going to fatten up him are you?” Martin asked. “Not without him knowing?”

“I’ve already started,” Nick laughed. “I got seven thousand calories in him the other day and he barely even noticed.”

“Nick!” Ben sighed. “That’s not cool!”

“I am what I am!” Nick sniggered unapologetically. “I see a little skinny shit like Duncan and my dick tells me I’ve got to feed him until he’s got some decent tits and a proper double chin on him!”

“Why him, though?” Ian asked. “He seems so sweet and innocent.”

Nick shrugged. “My parents were trying to set me up, saying they were sick of all the ‘mysterious guys’ I seemed to date,” he laughed. “Duncan’s family lived on my parents’ street and he’s just come back from college. I remember him as the little gay kid that used to stare out of the window whenever I was mowing my parents’ lawn shirtless at the end of high school,” he smirked, having been the focus on many sexual fantasies for several years now. “I didn’t have much to do with Duncan back then. He’s a couple of years younger than me. But Duncan’s dad was the fattest guy on our street, so of course I had a crush on him growing up. Now his mom is quite friendly with my mom and they’re trying their best to get us together.” he laughed at the idea. These fat boys knew him best in the whole world. Anyone with a real sense of who Nick really was would keep their handsome sons far away from him. “I thought dating Duncan would be a great opportunity to show my parents that they need to keep their noses out of my love life.”

“So, you’re dating him and secretly fattening him up to teach your parents a lesson about interfering?” Martin asked, exasperated.

“Pretty much,” Nick nodded. “Once they see the boy sprouting a little gut, they’ll soon realise the mistake they’ve made. It won’t take any of them long to work out who was responsible. I am a feeder after all…,” he whispered, spotting Duncan making his way back from the bathroom and sitting back up again. “That sounds incredible!” Nick lamented, as if they had been discussing something completely different the entire time.

“What does?” Duncan asked curiously, assuming that the boys were in the middle of a riveting conversation.

“Martin was just saying about this amazing donut place we need to try out later,” Nick lied. 

“Oh, yeah?” Duncan smiled over at Martin. “Sounds good. I love donuts.”

The boys all looked at each other guiltily, none of them willing to sound the alarm bells to Nick’s new lover; now all equally complicit in the whole wicked business.

“Your friends are so great,” Duncan smiled, getting into the back of the cab whilst holding the large box of donuts Nick had bought him.

“And they really liked you,” Nick smiled, taking the box from him and ripping it open for Duncan to try one. 

“They’re not at all how I imagined,” Duncan replied, nibbling on one without a second thought. “I remember you always hung out with the jock crowd in high school.”

Nick smirked to himself. Clearly Duncan hadn’t even recognised Martin as being one of those high school jocks he used to hang out with; now a full one hundred and sixty pounds fatter than in those days, thanks to him. “I choose my friends based upon how fun they are, rather than how they look,” he lied innocently, already picking up and handling Duncan’s next donut.

“I really like that about you,” Duncan smiled. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, before the pair kissed gently.

Nick stroked his lover’s hair as the third and fourth donuts mindlessly disappeared down Duncan’s throat during their short journey back to his place. Duncan was the son of a fatty alright. That greed was inside there, waiting to be enabled. “Perhaps…” he teased, closing the lid on the donut box, “you could eat the rest of these off my dick when we get back?”

Duncan nodded keenly. Nick had started introducing food into their foreplay last week and it had gone down well ever since. It was so obvious that Dunan had been fantasising about being with Nick since he was a teenager and first realised he was gay. It was almost pathetically simple to make him climax and he’d slipped into a more submissive role in the bedroom with ease. 

The naive boy kissed his manipulative lover, not even realising that the guy was adding up all his calories and hoping that today could be a new record.

Over the next few weeks, Duncan became a sucker for the romance: the hand holding, Nick sitting him on his knee and holding him prtotectively around the waist. The guy’s friends thought that Nick was the sweetest man on Earth; his mother made up that Duncan had found someone so openly affectionate. It all helped to mask the gradual softening that was happening all over Duncan’s body; the glutes swelling just a little more each time Nick ploughed his dick between them.

“You got your protein shake?” Nick asked as the pair of them headed off to the gym, where Duncan would spend the majority of his time spotting Nick on the weights and lifting the bare minimum himself. Yet, he would still flush down Nick’s bespoke shake, filled with creams, oils and powders for a truly staggering daily calorie overdose.

Duncan nodded. He’d never been in such a thrilling relationship as this; never experienced a kinky fuck in the cubicles after a workout at the gym, nor been lavished with such open affection in any of his previous romances. The love, the pampering, the endless sex acting as the perfect smoke screen for what was actually happening beneath the surface. Duncan simply threw the shake into his gym bag and then followed his lover out without a second thought.

Dating Duncan was having its advantages. Having parents who were quietly very comfortable had always given Nick a fair amount of entitlement. However, despite never going without as he was growing up, his parents had given him a large dose of tough love once he left college. The easy line of credit had been cut off and Nick’s parents had decided he needed to make it on his own in order to learn the true value of things. Now their hard approach seemed to be easing, given how pleased they were to see him dating someone they approved of so much. In the last month alone, they had thrown a whole heap of cash at repairs for the sports car they had bought Nick for his twenty-first, as well as transferring plenty of money to pay for a romantic getaway in the mountains. The purse strings were well and truly opened again.

“Do you think I’ve put on weight?” Dunan asked, rubbing his stomach in the mirror one evening as he got up to get a glass of water.

Nick managed to keep a straight face. The answer was more than obvious from the direction he was looking: doughy glutes, swollen thighs and budding love-handles; Duncan was well and truly morphing into a chub. “Of course,” Nick replied. “Your shoulders look much bigger after all those workouts,” he lied.

“No, not that,” Duncan shot back, studying his stomach and pinching a little. “Do you think I’m getting fat?”

Nick got up and slipped off his underwear. He’d been considering how best to answer this question for some time. “Why don’t I take a look?” he smiled teasingly, letting his hardness press between Duncan’s butt cheeks; its second home. “Mmm, yes!” he moaned. “There’s definitely an improvement back here,” he whispered.

“An improvement?” Duncan asked in surprise.

“Of course!” Nick whispered. “You like getting fucked, right?” 

Duncan nodded; his own dick starting to stiffen as his muscular boyfriend started to slap lubricant between his cheeks.

“Well, guys like me always prefer to fuck a guy with a little more meat back here.” He pressed himself inside and moaned with appreciation and he swayed his hips into action. “Mmm, fuck!” he sighed, watching as Duncan’s arousal grew even as he had just admitted to him that he was indeed starting to get chubby.

“You really like it?” Duncan whispered back just as Nick’s lubricated hand slipped onto his dick at the same time. “You’re not just saying that?”

Nick continued thrusting as if his lust prevented him from doing anything else. “You want me to enjoy fucking you, right? Can’t you feel how extra hard my dick is today?” he breathed into Duncan’s ear.

Duncan moaned in arousal.

“I’m going to finish so fast…” Nick added next, holding his boyfriend’s hardness at the same time and sensing that he had absolute control of the situation. “Keep spreading those big, delicious butt cheeks for me!”

Duncan leaned forward and pressed himself into Nick’s groin, submitting himself more than he knew..

“Well, boys… what do you think?” Nick asked after sending Duncan off to buy some cotton candy as the rest of them meandered around the funfair.

Nick’s chubby friends all looked at each other, then back at Duncan’s enlarged rear as he queued up by the stall. “I can’t believe he hasn’t even noticed yet,” Ben replied.

Nick sighed in frustration. These fatties really didn’t understand anything. “Of course he’s noticed, you idiot!” he growled. “You can’t gain thirty-five pounds and not notice! Not when you’re as skinny as Duncan used to be!”

“Thirty-five pounds?” Martin asked. “Is it really that much?”

“Easily,” Nick chuckled. He could estimate a guy’s weight better than anyone else he had ever met. “And not an ounce of it has been muscle!” he smirked. “Just take a look at those love handles if you don’t believe me.”

“How the fuck are you still getting away with this?” Ian asked, bewildered as he saw Duncan scratching his stomach in the queue for cotton candy.

“Easy,” Nick shrugged. “Bombard a simple boy with pure pleasure, then sit back and watch. It’s really not rocket science. All boys are pigs if you know what you’re doing. And, you know me, I’ve never struggled to put weight on anyone before; as I’m sure your blubbery thighs can attest to,” he winked at Martin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Adam jumped in. “How much longer until he works out what you’re really up to and dumps you?”

Nick looked over at Duncan in the queue and waved sweetly. “I’d say I’ve got at least another fifty pounds or so before that happens,” he chuckled to the boys. “The greedy little fucker is hardly the brightest I’ve ever come across.”

Without even realising it, the other guys were a great help to increase Duncan’s calories that day. Collectively, they gorged and snacked the entire time as Nick sat back and watched. It was what he loved best about feeding. It wasn’t just about stuffing someone until they nearly puked; it was about the long term training and habit-forming he had programmed into all of them, ensuring that they ate, almost mindlessly, the entire time.

“I’ve got such a boner after watching you eating that hot dog…” Nick whispered to Duncan later that evening, adjusting his pants. “You were practically deep throating it,” he teased.

Duncan grinned. ”Well, you know how good I am at taking something long and thick into my mouth…” he teased back, thinking he knew the game that his lover was playing. He believed he was being playful and seductive, yet he was so far off the mark, it was laughable.

“Here,” Nick smiled, slipping Duncan a note. “Go get yourself another… I want to watch your mouth work and imagine what you’re going to do to me later,” he lied, patting Duncan on his doughy little rear. “Then, when we get home, I’m going to pull out the whipped cream and make you lick it all off me!”

Duncan raised his eyebrows and smiled with excitement. Then, off he went to do as he was told, nursing his own semi at the same time.

It was only in the pictures from that day that Nick really noticed how well Duncan’s double chin was starting to come in. Duncan had never exactly been on a par with him, looks-wise. But with the arrival of the chin and the bloated middle, at last Nick felt like he was dating a real chub once more, sending his arousal into overdrive. He found more and more cunning ways to ensure Duncan continued to overeat and, as the holidays arrived, Duncan had let himself go even more than Nick had ever expected. Suddenly, all those sweatpants Nick had quietly been adding to Duncan’s wardrobe began paying off; the larger shirts and cute underwear that would have been far too big for the guy back when they first got together.

“I’m thinking of asking Duncan to move in with me,” Nick explained to his parents one evening. This wasn’t the sort of life decision he usually made with his parents, but considering how much they were into this relationship, their support was bound to come with a nice big cheque for something or other.

Nick’s mother breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful news!” she beamed. “I thought you were going to tell us something else then!” she laughed, looking across at Nick’s dad.

“Like what?” Nick asked, curious.

“I thought you were about to tell us that it was all over between you both!” she chuckled, still looking nothing but relieved. “We noticed that Duncan’s put on a few pounds recently and we thought… Uh oh! Nick’s not going to be happy about that.”

“You thought I would finish with Duncan just because he’s gained a few pounds?” Nick asked, realising just how little his parents actually understood him. How many of his chubby boyfriends had they met in the past? “You really think I’m that shallow?” he asked, pretending to feel hurt. That was, until his parents finally offered to consider buying one of the new condos by the river for Nick and Duncan to live in together; so much more convenient than the poky little apartment Nick was in right now.

The chubs were shocked when Nick told them his plans. Adam, in particular, thought he was taking things too far. Sure, Nick had some fun fattening up his boyfriend when they were dating, but moving in with Duncanwould be entirely different. Now he would be able to manipulate everything that Duncan ate all day and all night long. And, from the horny way that Nick spoke about it, it was clear that he was going to take advantage of every opportunity that came his way.

“You really sneak all this stuff into his food?” Adam asked, gazing at the hidden supplies in the cupboard.

“Pretty much,” Nick nodded, smiling as he looked around his new kitchen. “Have you seen these?” he asked, picking up a pair of Ducan’s freshly washed work pants from the laundry basket. “Thirty eight inch waist already!”

“I’m guessing these are his as well?” Martin asked, picking up a jock strap.

“Absolutely!” Nick laughed. “You should see the way they cut into the little pig’s love handles! It never fails to make me explode!”

“Jeez! Look at all this shit!” Ben cried as he opened the refrigerator.

Nick’s face lit up again and his eyes twinkled with devilment as Ben pulled out one fattening product and ingredient after another. “Fat boy is living the dream, right?” he smiled. “And check out this!” he blasted, opening the freezer drawer and extracting a giant tub of ice cream. “Liquid gold, this stuff!” he joked. “The pig can’t resist it and it puts weight on him like nothing else. You wait until you see him. He’s like you, Adam. A similar sort of shape when you started getting fat; a tight, stout little belly. And his face! Oh my goodness! It’s just suddenly started looking chubby as fuck! Do you remember when it happened to you, Martin? Your face and cheeks seemed to just blow up? In less than a week you looked totally different. It’s exactly the same with Duncan right now.”

The chubs all looked at each other. Nick had been there during each one of their initial forays into gaining, and he was the reason why each of them continued to relish putting on more and more weight, even now.

“So this is where the magic happens?” Ian asked, as he was led into Nick and Duncan’s new bedroom.

Nick shook his head and laughed. “The magic happens wherever I want it to happen,” he boasted. “We may have only been here four weeks, but there’s no room or flat surface I haven’t fucked my little piggy on.”

The chubs all pulled a face, pretending to be repulsed by Nick’s crudeness, despite the arousal that they actually felt. Each one of them had been fucked and fed by him during their time. That was, before Duncan came along.

By the time Duncan arrived home from work, there was a wealth of take out on offer in the lounge, with Nick standing up brightly to greet his lover whilst the four chubby guys were draped over the sofas like bloated seals. After hugging him, Nick stood back and allowed the eyes of the chubs to check Duncan out. He could see their eyes wandering to exactly where he wanted: Duncan’s chubby chin, his pot belly and broader butt. How exciting it was to show him off like this! Nick fussed about him, fetching him a plate and a cool beer whilst he settled down with the other boys.

Grazing was one of Duncan’s weaknesses. A large buffet dinner like this always resulted in him eating more than usual. Even as the pizzas and chicken pieces went cool, the boy was still nibbling away as he chatted. He slipped off his tie and supped on the beer until a little opening formed between the buttons on his shirt, a tight bloat starting to take hold of his portly stomach.

“I’m hoping I can pull a few strings and get Duncan a new job with one of my friends,” Nick commented next, as Duncan began complaining about his boss. “He works so hard and just gets more and more responsibilities piled on top of him without any extra pay. It’s not fair.”

“I’ve got my fingers crossed,” Duncan nodded in agreement. “A new job would be so handy right now. As much as I like being able to walk to work, I think I’m ready for a change.”

The chubs all eyed Nick knowingly. Was this yet another cunning way to ensure that Duncan got the least amount of exercise possible? Back in the early days, Nick had manipulated all their lifestyles in a similar fashion, and their waistlines had rapidly paid the price. It burned the question in all their minds: Just how much further could Nick take this gain?

“You’ve been to the gym already?” Duncan asked a couple of weeks later as he groggily rubbed his eyes one Saturday morning.

“Of course I have,” Nick smiled, pumping his bicep. “It was chest day. You know that’s my favorite!” he winked, ripping off his compression shirt and throwing his muscular body down onto the bed with his now easily 240lb boyfriend. He kissed him keenly until he could feel Duncan really getting into it. That was the moment he pulled out. “I’m going to make you some breakfast,” he teased,” reaching his hand onto the boy’s wider rear, “then I’m going to fuck you silly…” he growled.

“Does it have to be in that specific order?” Duncan smiled back, throwing his leg over and spreading his naked butt so temptingly, as if he didn’t understand how, these days, his oversized, wobbly glutes would have put most guys off. Duncan was not the cute little thing he used to be.

Nick growled in lust, sliding his hand onto the boy’s butt and slapped it playfully, watching the fresh blubber ripple. “Breakfast first,” he smiled, resisting temptation, jumping back up energetically to start frying things up for his underexercised lover.

A few weeks later, Nick’s buddy, Martin, had met him in town for lunch. Ever since the pair had dated in high school, the guy had slowly been swelling up fatter and fatter. After understanding their shared attraction to weight gain, Nick had been the one to draw it out of him, with those initial sixty pounds being down to his own hard work and dedication to the cause. It was where Nick had learned his craft as a feeder; utilising the knowledge he had acwuired with the many, many gainers he had fattened up since.

Despite Martin’s athletic beginnings on the football team, there was not a trace of it left any longer. The guy was surprisingly pear shaped and soft all over; with every part of him coated in blubber. Martin had hit three hundred and fifty pounds last year and was still continuing to balloon up with the help of several other feeders Nick had sent his way. As usual, he was wearing clothes that appeared far too tight; his drooping stomach starting to show itself underneath his too-short t-shirt. Nick enjoyed standing back and watching the looks his friend got as they walked around together; his very favourite hobby.

“You know, I almost forgot how much I LOVE a giant fat ass on a guy,” Nick rambled as the pair of them walked to a free bench at the park. “Duncan had almost no ass at all when I asked him out. Then it started getting nice and peachy, and I thought I was so turned on by it; like my dick was never going to be flaccid ever again! But now…” he swooned, turned on just to be saying these things aloud. “...Now it’s properly FAT! Like two doughy mounds of lard! You should see the way it jiggles and moves; how wide it’s getting and how it’s spreading out! Fuck, man!”

“Hence the doughnuts,” Martin chuckled, motioning to the little bag of premium treats Nick had just picked up to take home with him later. “You do realise there are a lot more calories in the regular ones Duncan eats?” he reminded his friend.

Nick shrugged. “Duncan tends to prefer these ones. I know they’re a lot more expensive, but my little fat ass is definitely worth it,” he laughed.

“So it’s finally happened then!” Martin smirked, breathing a sigh of relief as they made it to the bench. “I never got expensive treats like those when we dated. You’re so fucked now, you know that, right?”

Nick turned in surprise. “Fucked?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Because I spent extra money on donuts?”

“I’ve seen this coming for months. The way you are around Duncan; finishing his sentences and fussing after him. You’ve properly fallen in love, haven’t you? Nick Bowlins: the feeder with a heart of stone, has actually fallen for one of his fatties!”

Nick shook his head. “No. It’s not like that at all!” he shot back, surprisingly offended by the idea. “I know this isn’t a long-term thing. I’ve been secretly fattening him for months waiting until he finally realises and dumps me. I headed into this with realistic expectations.”

“And that’s what makes this all the more tragic,” Martin laughed. “You’ve schemed yourself into a corner. You even pulled all those strings to make sure your friend got him that new job. You’ve played your games and ensured he piles on the weight, but you know he’ll never forgive you once he figures it all out. And when that happens, he’s going to break your little heart.”

“I’m not discussing this,” Nick stated, standing up and checking his watch for the time.

“Ouch! I’ve touched a nerve!” Martin sang with delight. “This is pure karma you realise? Secretly fatten up your boyfriend’s ass and you’re going to end up getting bitten on yours!”

Nick rolled his eyes and started walking off. He hated how jealous Martin was these days, now that they didn’t casually fuck like they used to. Although Nick hadn’t entered into a relationship with Duncan with the intention of staying monogamous, that was exactly what had happened. He just hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else. So, how would he feel when all this was over? Because Martin was right about one thing: this whole relationship was definitely heading for an inevitable conclusion. Maybe Nick would be the one who came off worse.

“You know I love you, right?” Nick asked, cuddling Duncan extra tight as he spooned him in bed the next morning.

Duncan chuckled softly and rubbed Nick’s strong arms that held him so firmly. “I know,” he replied, smiling happily. “I love you too.”

Despite the raging hard-on Nick had, pressed up against Duncan’s soft glutes, he tried his best to resist heading straight to sex and just enjoyed the moment. Who knew how many more mornings like this they had together?

“I’m heading for a shower if you want to join?” Duncan asked, slipping out from under the covers and standing there naked. His blubbery body was so intoxicating. Nick hadn’t been able to resist spoiling him with take-out last night and, as a result, the guy’s nipples finally looked like they were ready to start the eventual droop onto that rounded little gut that was swelling out of him. Was the guy really so oblivious that he didn’t realise how overweight he was getting? Did he really not know that, to the average person, his lardy physique was never going to entice anyone the way he was now trying to entice Nick to follow him into the shower. Bounce, bounce, bounce went those overfilled glutes as he strutted out, confident that Nick would follow; the jiggle of fat in his love handles surprisingly out of sync with the rest of his body. But Nick was so hard; his devious brain having already concocted several ways he could ensure Duncan was gorged on calories all day long. He simply wouldn’t be able to stop himself, even if he tried.

“Wait for me!” he called out, throwing the covers off and following the little piglet into the bathroom.

Many of the strategies Nick had employed to increase Duncan’s weight in the early days were now thoroughly ingrained and trained into him. Nick sat back and watched the naive boy guzzle down his breakfast and then mindlessly wander around the kitchen cupboards for snacks. The boy’s life had been so ridiculously food focused for months now, he initiated his own conversations about where they should go for lunch and talked excitedly about the little bakeries and food places they could stop at along the way. Nick almost wished that he would stop; his dick swelling with blood each and every time Duncan’s well developed greed reared its ugly head in their conversations.

“You’re starting to look like your father!” Duncan’s mother grumbled as they called in one afternoon; her son’s stomach surprisingly rounded and bloated after the sushi lunch he had insisted upon.

Right before Duncan’s dad had taken up with another woman and moved to New York about seven years ago, an eighteen year old Nick had developed the biggest crush on him: the fattest man in their neighborhood. Since then, Duncan’s mother had bitterly sworn off men and neither she, nor Duncan, had had any contact with him since. But the comparison with Duncan’s father now made Nick’s heart race as he took in just how justified it was. Ducan did indeed carry all the weight in the same way; his stomach and butt pushing outwards in completely the opposite directions. 

Duncan rolled his eyes, shielded from all the criticism by the many false and exaggerated compliments Nick had filled his head with for almost eighteen months now. “Did you notice that tiny little portion mom gave me?” he complained as they both got back into the car after staying for dinner. “I think she’s trying to put me on a diet herself!”

The pair of them laughed and waved as they pulled out of the driveway.

“You don’t think I’ve gotten too fat do you?” Duncan asked, clearly second guessing himself after the visit.

“I think you’re gorgeous,” Nick growled, swerving the question and pulling Duncan’s hand onto his erection, as if providing evidence to that effect. He’d planned for them both to stop at his own folks’ place before heading home, but his arousal had got the better of him. He felt an ache in his balls and needed to get his fat boy back as soon as possible.

“Can we order Mexican tonight?” Duncan asked; his greedy mind still hijacked by thoughts of food.

“We’ll get you whatever you want,” Nick smiled back, taking one hand from the wheel to rub his lover’s chubby thigh. Oh, how he loved this boy!

Over the following months, Nick’s usual compliments started sounding more and more ironic. He still lamented about Duncan’s butt, calling it ‘cute’ and ‘pert’ like he always had, despite the monstrous width and shape it had developed. He referred to Duncan as his ‘pretty boy’ even though the chubby cheeks had enveloped many of his old facial features and the double chin had robbed him of a jawline for quite some time. Time and time again, he made note of Duncan’s strength and manly physique, even as the pounds and pounds of blubber encased his upper arms and surged into his nipples, making them bounce as he walked. It was almost amusing that Duncan still believed each and every one of them. Then again, was it a lie when Nick really meant what he said? Big and bloated as it was, Duncan’s butt was still the cutest thing Nick had ever seen. Sure, the boy’s face was round and plump, but did that mean he wasn’t pretty anymore? Definitely not!

“I can’t believe you’re still getting away with this shit!” laughed Adam as they all met up for a meal at a fancy buffet restaurant closer to the holidays. Duncan’s gut had swollen significantly since many of the boys had seen him last summer; all of them gazing at the boy from the table as he greedily trotted around the dishes on offer. “I have to hand it to you. I never thought you would get this far with him.”

Nick nodded and smiled, but didn’t feel the need to comment.

“What is he now?” Ben asked, inspecting Duncan’s broad rear as he turned around. “Two-eighty?”

“No way! That’s a three hundred pounder if ever I’ve seen one!” Ian jumped in, laughing when Duncan’s shirt came untucked as he hungrily reached over to pick up some garlic bread.

Nick nodded once again, silently wishing for Duncan to hurry back to the table and end this speculation. All it would take would be for one of them to say something too loudly and Duncan would overhear. Then the entire house of cards would come crashing down.

The chubs all seemed to notice Nick’s silence and they looked at each other in confusion. Where had that wicked, boastful feeder they all knew so well gone?

“Leave him be, boys,” Martin whispered to the others. He probably knew, just as well as the rest did, that this was likely Nick and Duncan’s last holiday season together. 

The chair squeaked as Duncan sat himself down again. His plate was piled high; the food glistening with grease and butter. He reached for his knife and fork. Since when had his hands become so chubby and full; his fingers swelling like short little sausages.

“Nick wants to take me away on a cruise next year,” Duncan told the boys later on as the conversation progressed. “Somewhere warm so that we can just lie by the pool and enjoy some drinks in the sun.” “How lovely!” Adam grinned. “All those fantastic restaurants to visit throughout the day; all that delicious food…” he smirked, looking over in Nick’s direction. “What a thoughtful boyfriend you have!”

Nick felt more uncomfortable than ever, wriggling in his seat. In truth, he’d drifted away from the boys for just this reason, knowing that these subtle little comments about his feeder intentions were one day going to land in Duncan’s mind. Then, everything would unravel. “I just thought it would be nice,” he replied softly, rubbing his lover’s bulging thigh under the table.

“That’s what everyone always says about you,” Ben agreed sarcastically. “Nick Bowlins: a real ‘nice’ guy!” he winked.

Nick swallowed hard and forcefully steered the conversation in an entirely new direction. He felt so grateful as the evening ended and it was just him and Duncan back in the car, heading back home.

“I think I’ve still got some of that nice ice cream left in the freezer,” Duncan pondered, despite how much he had consumed that evening. “I’ll have it when I get home.”

Once again, Nick’s erection sprang to life, despite the guilt he felt. For the first time, he wished that his brain wasn’t wired the way it was. Why did he have to get off on how greedy and well trained his boyfriend had become to eat everything he provided? Why couldn’t he just be normal, like everyone else? Why did this secret have to loom over them like a dark, angry cloud?

The rain was falling hard as they made it back to the apartment block that evening, both of them running from the parking lot to the front entrance. A large man stood outside, looking drenched and miserable as he tried in vain to get a response on the intercom to one of the apartments upstairs.

“Can I help you?” Nick asked, letting the man come into the main hallway and out of the downpour.

The man lowered his hood and breathed out, rubbing his fat face and beard,soaked from the rain. Nick recognised him immediately and he could tell from the way that Duncan took a step back that he had just had the shock of his life. There, standing before them both was Duncan’s long estranged father.

“Your aunt said it was a nice apartment you have,” the big man beamed as he followed them both upstairs a few minutes later. “I have to say, she was absolutely right! This was all just wasteland when I was last in town.”

Nicked fetched the man a towel and took his jacket off. Although it had been many years since he had seen Duncan’s father, Eddie, he was surprised at how impressively large the man had become in that time, easily close to being five hundred pounds, if not more.

“What do you want?” Duncan asked, sitting himself down on the couch. “Why show up here after all this time? Is Michelle not with you?”

“Michelle’s at home in New York,” Eddie replied, referring to the woman he had left Duncan’s mother to be with. “I always miss you more around the holidays. Now you’ve moved out of your mom’s place, I thought maybe I could finally summon up the courage to come and see you.” The man looked over at his son and smiled. It had been years since he had seen him. Duncan had been nothing more than a scrawny teenager the last time they had been in the same room together. “You look well,” he nodded. “I always thought you’d end up looking more like me than your mother,” he smiled, patting his own large belly.

An awkward silence fell upon the room. After over seven years of estrangement, was Duncan’s dad really calling him fat within the first five minutes? Tact was clearly not his specialty.

“Your aunt tells me you two have been together for over two years now?” he asked next. “You must be very happy.”

Again, the silence was deafening. Nick began to feel sorry for the man as Duncan’s hostility endured.

“Why did you have to move to New York?” Duncan finally asked; blocking whatever path his father was trying to steer the conversation.

Eddie nodded his head, accepting that the question was a good one. “Because I fell in love,” he answered. “Michelle and I… we’re just made for each other. Sure, it’s not a conventional pairing… A bit like you two,” he pointed at them both, appearing to be gesturing towards their two contrasting bodies. “But we’re very happy together.”

The cogs in Nick’s brain began to turn. 

“Your mom was always getting at me for my weight,” Eddie went on. “We were never happy. That was all just an act for your sake. But I think you knew that, didn’t you?” he smiled sweetly at Duncan. “I tried to explain to your mom that this is who I am,” he nodded, grabbing a handful of the fat that encircled his waist. “But she wouldn’t have it. She made my life hell. Then I met Michelle online and… well, as you know. Everything changed.”

Nick had a thousand questions burning in his head. He fought back the urge to jump in and ask them all at once, merely rubbing Duncan’s back supportively from behind the couch.

“Your mom threatened to tell you everything unless I stayed away. She’d hired a private investigator and had endless messages, pictures and transcripts between me and Michelle. I didn’t want you to see any of that. Your mom made it clear that she thought the things Michelle and I were into were just perverted. She didn’t understand the eating and the weight gain and how intrinsic it all is to my happiness.”

Nick tried not to react. Was Duncan’s father really coming out as a… a gainer?

“I thought, maybe now that you’re in your own similar relationship, that you might understand,” Eddie finished, looking at them both.

Nick’s eyes bulged and he stood up straighter; his heart pounding. He’d imagined many scenarios where he would be outed as a feeder, but being called out by Duncan’s absentee father had not been one of them. “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he mumbled shakily.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, come on… it’s obvious!” he motioned again at their extreme size difference. “Duncan’s aunt told me all about you two. You’re the one who fattened up Pete and Shirley’s boy, Martin, back when you were in high school together,” Eddie stated directly to Nick. “I heard he’s a real porker these days! ‘As fat as butter’ my sister said!”

Duncan turned his head to look at Nick, standing behind him, his eyebrows lowered in confusion. Nick was utterly speechless.

“Now, I’m not sure there are many fathers who would approve of their son dating a feeder,” Eddie nodded. “But, in this case, I’ve got to say… I know you two will be really happy together.”

Duncan and Nick both looked across at Eddie. The man was still blissfully unaware of the wrecking ball he had just taken to their relationship.

“I’m staying at the Palace Hotel,” Eddie stated as he grunted and got up from his seat. “Perhaps we could all meet up for some lunch tomorrow?”

Again, silence was the only response. He pulled out a contact card and dropped it on the coffee table.

“It really is good to see you again,” he smiled at Duncan as Nick followed him to the door and closed it behind him.

“Duncan…” Nick began, the moment they were alone again. “That was… I’m not sure your dad has all the facts about… I’m not really…” he mumbled, starting and restarting his sentences again and again. “Are you alright?” he finally offered sweetly.

Duncan inhaled and seemed to pull himself out of his stunned silence. “Well, I guess everything makes a lot more sense now,” he nodded pragmatically. “With dad… With you.”

Nick’s heart was racing. He thought of several things he could say in response, all of them lies and excuses. No. The game was up.

“So I guess that’s the reason why I’m like this,” Duncan sighed, raising his arms up to his chest and looking down at his fattened body, as if for the first time. “I just thought I was going mad. Two hundred and ninety six pounds. That’s what I was when I weighed myself the other day. Can you believe that?”

“I never meant for things to go this far,” Nick replied honestly.

“Nor did I,” Duncan agreed, rubbing his stout belly sadly.

“You don’t have to be this way,” Nick shot back. “We can put you on a diet. I’d love you however you looked. Just give me a chance and let me prove it!”

“I think it’s too late for that, don’t you?” Duncan grumbled, still holding his enlarged stomach. “My dad’s right. I’ve always been more like him than my mom.”

“How do you mean?” Nick asked, wondering just how long it would be until Duncan kicked him out. Where the hell was he going to sleep tonight?

“I love food. I love eating. I love this…” he emphasised, leaning a little forwards and grabbing his gut with both hands, shaking it. “I just didn’t understand why.”

Nick’s heart skipped a beat. “You seriously don’t mind?” he asked in astonishment.

“I thought you were so sweet for not nagging me about my weight when I first started getting chubby. But I guess I understand now. It all makes sense.”

Nick cringed. He felt that things still rested on a knife edge. He didn’t want to open his mouth and say the wrong thing; simultaneously destroying everything. 

“So, this is your thing, huh?” Duncan asked, lifting his shirt and patting the large belly he had developed over the last two years. “I suppose I always was a prime target for a feeder, knowing how large my dad is. I guess weight gain is just in the genes. You must have known that.”

“That wasn’t why I started dating you,” Nick replied quickly. “And your weight isn’t the reason why I fell in love with you either.”

“Well, you’re a better man than me then,” Duncan chuckled. “Because the way you used to cook and overfeed me definitely played a part in the reason why I fell for you so badly!”

The pair looked at each other with very small smiles threatening to invade from the furthest corners of their mouths.

“I guess we’re both just a couple of freaks,” Duncan finally laughed. He patted the space next to him on the couch and Nick finally came to sit next to him. The most honest conversation of their lives was about to begin.

“Surprise!” shouted the crowds of people as Duncan and Nick walked into the restaurant a few months later. Everyone was there: the chubs, the two families, Duncan’s father and Michelle; all stood underneath a banner congratulating them on their engagement. The pair of them laughed, pretending that they hadn’t already worked out what was happening, strolling in to greet them all.

“So you’re finally going to make an honest fatty out of this one?” Martin joked quietly as he came up to the pair of them later that evening.

Nick nodded, his hand resting sweetly on Duncan’s large butt as the boy stood, eating his third plateful from the buffet. He rubbed and patted gently, knowing that Duncan always ate better when his size was being admired. The boy had been fattening faster than ever since the pair of them had been open and honest about things. With such an enormous double chin, Duncan even looked larger than Martin himself.

“How was the cruise?” Martin askes next, not having seen the pair of them since they made it home, freshly engaged last weekend.

Duncan and Nick giggled to each other, remembering all the kinky things they had got up to together. “It was very good, thanks,” Nick finally replied, rubbing Duncan’s giant stomach as if to show that the pair of them had stuffed Duncan’s gut for the entire two weeks. They’d even had to buy a new shirt especially for the party that evening.

“Yeah, it was great,” Duncan mumbled through a mouthful of food. “Now we’re just looking forward to the wedding.”

A surge of excitement spread through Nick as he thought about the wedding. His large hand couldn’t resist squeezing Duncan’s blubbery glute as he pictured how much fatter his fiance would be by then.

“Well, it’s unconventional, but it clearly works for you two,” Martin smiled, looking on at his very good friends who clearly only had eyes for each other. Sure, the world had lost one of its most devilish and enterprising feeders, but look at how happy he was with his fat boy. Look at how happy they both were! 

The whispers behind their backs could continue, the justified comparisons between Nick and Eddie’s feeder wife could go on and on. Duncan’s mother could regret the day she’d ever agreed to let her friend coax her into setting up Duncan with her son. But none of them could deny that this was something very special indeed. The glasses were raised, the toasts were made and the sentiment was real. A long and happy marriage was wished upon them both. Nick and Duncan, forever more.

[cheriladycl01]

None of my Achievements are my Own - Lando Norris x Verstappen! Reader

Plot: Being the little sister of Max Verstappen, Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris current girlfriend nothing that you do, seems to reflect on you, it’s always one of the men in your life getting the credit.

Coming from a family with the last name Verstappen, made anything you did as a child not good enough.

You won a medal in your swimming class, Max had won 3.

You raised €600 euro selling baked cakes across your village for the local environment agency. Max had raised €2000 for his local karting track to get new tires around the edges for protection and have the track relayed.

They were silly little things but as a kid, you never felt appreciated by your family and it wasn’t just your dad, it seemed to be your mum too. Max and Victoria also never took notice of your feelings on the matter.

As you got older, being cast out and almost ignored by your family caused you to develop Anxiety and stayed in the house for most of your teen years.

You only really left when forced to go to Max’s races as he started progressing his way through the FIA feeder series to get to F1.

“Dad I really don’t want to be here today” you sighed rubbing your shoulder as you kept your headphones half on half off.

“It’s good for you to support your brother, especially as he’s becoming an accomplished young man. I can’t say the same for you” he frowns watching as Max passes you guys on track.

That race shortly ended. You saw Max getting a little heated just after the podium, and you ran over to your older brother to try calm him down.

If there was one thing you were good at it was calming his bad temper down. Not that you ever got the recognition.

“Max, Maxie what’s going on?” You ask running up to him, and seeing the guilty looking boy next to him.

“Next time maybe fucking look” Max seethes at the boy.

“Max calm down. What happened” you ask taking a hold of his arm, but he swats your hand off.

“He nearly made me loose that race from his careless driving” he points at the boy before storming of to your father, no doubt to have him critique the hell out of his race.

“I’m so sorry about him” you admit to the boy bashfully. He was still stood there looking rather awkward.

“It’s fine, he was right. You’re his sister right?” he sighs.

“Yeah- how’d you know?” You ask.

“You always seem to be here with Max and your dad. I don’t think he’d talk to you the way he does if you weren’t his family. I’m Charles by the way” the boy says and that was the start of something really beautiful.

You started dating Charles just as he was announced for F2 in 2016. But when that got into the media, of course it was because of Max that you’d managed to get into a relationship with a future F1 driver.

You thought finally having some independence from your brother would mean you could put a foot out in this world.

But once you left home to move in with Charles, it only seemed like as he progressed to Formula One in 2018, your further achievements were still not your own.

“Max, I’m leaving” you’d told you brother. You’d already had this conversation with your father who had refused at the idea at first, thinking it preposterous of you to leave.

“What do you mean?” He’d asked cocking his head to the side.

“I’m going to live with Charles, I think it’s going to be better for me” you said, looking down, and playing with your fingers.

“What do you mean, better for you” he asks with a frown on his face. Despite what the fans, or media stated Max loved you with his whole heart, and it was a huge heart he loved you with, he however was ignorant to your feelings on independence. But that was also partly your fault for hiding it so well.

“I just want to go do something for me, you know where it’s my name tied to it and I think somewhere new away from everything here is exactly what I need” you explained.

“Your name?” He asks with even more of a frown.

“None of my achievements are my own, or are acknowledged because I’m the sister of Max Verstappen but maybe I just want to be Y/N for a little bit? I want people to notice me for me, and what I’ve done in life. Not just because my last name is Verstappen” you smiled and hoped that day your new life with Charles would be different.

It wasn’t, If anything … it was worse.

You got into University to study engineering, but that was only because you were dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc otherwise you would have gotten into University the minute you turned 18 in 2017. Rather than delaying it till 2019 once Charles had a secure seat in Ferrari.

And when you became an advocate for APM Monaco, it was only because Charles was asked first.

Or once you got a job within McLaren in 2019 it was only because you had a brother driving for RedBull and a boyfriend driving for Ferrari. Not because of your ambition and hard work in your first year of University.

And when Charles proposed to you, you were quick to say yes.

You were ready to get rid of the dreadful Verstappen name, and Y/N Leclerc had a nice ring to it, and maybe once you just became Charles fiancé you’d have some independence.

But that fantasy was of course short lived.

“Charles baby?” You asked coming home from a day at university. You’d come home because a lecturer had failed to turn up so you thought you’d surprise your boyfriend with his favourite meal and some flowers.

You heard some movement in the bedroom making you go up and see a sight that broke your heart.

Your boyfriend of 4 years, fiancé for 1 year in bed with another woman. You couldn’t bare the sight.

“Y/N my love. I - what” he gasps as you’d entered the bedroom.

“H-how long?” You’d asked, it was your first question. We’re you not good enough?

“Ma Cherie, please forgive me I’m so so sorry” he begs getting on his knees and the other girl takes her leave.

And the worst thing of all, you were so hopelessly in love with him, that you nearly did forgive him with that look.

“Nothing I’ve ever done in my life, has ever been because of me. I’ve never got the credit for anything, so this one time… I’m taking the credit for breaking up with you. And you are going to tell everyone how you broke my heart … because I will not have you take this from me” you’d said to him with tears in your eyes, a sense of deja vu from you conversation three years prior with Max.

You broke up with him on the spot not wishing to ever see him again.

After some time of self reflecting and improvement you and Lando, who had joined McLaren at the same time as you and became your close friend decided it was time to be more than friends.

Lando had always kind of held a school boy crush on you since you both started in 2019, but he knew you were untouchable thanks to both your brother and your boyfriend at the time. Being the same age made you guys really close.

Once you’d broken up with Charles, he could see the change in you, there wasn’t that sparkle in your eyes, you always looked pretty vacant when he looked at you when you thought nobody was looking.

He’d watch the way your eyes lit up with fake happiness when someone approached you to talk.

You and Lando started dating at the end of the 2022 season. However when he said he wanted to keep it under wraps for a while you were so excited. It meant you had Landos love and affection but you were free to be you right?

WRONG

Whatever you’d did you were still seen as Max Verstappen’s Sister and the Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc.

However as you and Lando grew as a couple you noticed he was one of the only to acknowledge your achievements even if the fans didn’t.

When you graduated from your masters in 2023 he was there with a bunch of flowers and watched as you walked across the stage being the loudest person cheering you on, well the only person really cheering you on. Your parents and brother didn’t manage to come.

When you started running a charity on the side to help creatures in the ocean stop ingesting so much plastic being thrown into the ocean. He was there at the press conference where you’d announced your invention and how it would help clear up the oceans.

All of the little side quests he did with you, he made sure to promote them as yours as yours alone and he was only tagging alone to watch and support.

Of course there were still haters, thought you were only a product of your birth name and who you’d dated and that’s why you’d been given all these opportunity’s and that you hadn’t worked hard for anything in your life.

Which was beyond false.

“Lando?” You asked one day, you both lying in bed after a stressful race weekend.

“Yes baby?” He asks looking away from his phone and his eyes fully trained on you showing he was paying full attention to you.

“I - I really love you and appreciate you, I just wanted to let you know” you say looking over at him, and he moves back in shock a little, trying not to show it.

“W-what? Where has this come from. I know you love me silly” he laughs looking over you to try determine if there was anything else going on.

“I know I know, I just - my whole life whatever I’ve done was never mine … not until I met you. And I just want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you see … well me” you breathe and as ge listens he looks like he could cry from the things you are saying to him.

He knew your relationship with your brother was strained at best, he saw that from the very start. And he knew you and Charles didn’t exactly end on a happy note but he didn’t realise just how much you’d been not only discredited for but out right stolen off.

“Baby - why did you never tell me” he asks pulling you into him and hugging you while toying with your hair gently.

“I guess I never felt like I had a voice until I met you, because nothing was my own. But I have that with you!” You smile tears brimming your own eyes with how much you love this man in front of you.

“Marry me” he whispers not looking at you, and you think you didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?”

“Marry me. I never want you to feel like that ever again, and I love you more than anything on this planet. I want to show you just how much of a voice you have for the rest of our lives” he offers and you can’t help but just stare at his eyes.

“Yes - Yes” you cry and cling to him like a koala.

You’d finally found your voice and your purpose and that was in Lando Norris.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[delphi-shield]

OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs

the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.

Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 

It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 

He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 

Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.

Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.

”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”

At least you get movie dates out of it.

Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.

I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.

Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.

Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.

Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.

Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?

Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.

He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'

Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.

Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.

She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.

Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.

And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.

If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.

Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.

Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.

Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.

Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.

Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.

Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)

Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.

Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?

Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.

Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 

Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”

Unironically sent you a minion meme once.

It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.

If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!

If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.

Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.

[faeflowerz]

Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

[jilixthinker]

sweet taster

=͟͟͞♡ minho × fem!reader

word count: 1.6K

content warning: smut, established relationship, sub!minho, cock play, kinda chubby (but not really) minho, a little bit of feederism if you squint, it's all very loving and sweet

a/c: i feel things about minho's imaginary soft tummy, that's it.

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

"That was definitively too much."

Your home smells like savory and sweet, the nice scent lingering in your living room like a warm blanket, and Minho groans in delight as he plops on the couch with his eyes closed, stress from the work beginning to melt away. He loves when he comes home to the smell of one of your cooking, it makes him feel spoiled and pampered.

The portion of bibimbap was more than generous, but what truly tested his stomach capacity were the three big slices of apple pie he gobbled down while you watched him with adoring eyes, fingers softly caressing his plush tighs.

Minho has a sweet tooth and you love cooking and baking for him, that is always been your love language. In addition to that, in the last year of your relationship you started to experiment in the kitchen with lots of different baking recipies, and your loving boyfriend has been your official taster since that.

You cook, he eats, and you look fondly at him while he savors your baked goods, making a series of cute tiny sounds of pleasure that leaves you cooing and pinching at his soft cheeks. That is how you would describe happiness.

"Are you full?" you ask, sitting next to him and immediately nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck.

Minho smiles and his arm circles your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. You nose at his sweater and he smells like candy, smells sweet and intrinsecally like home and Minho. “So full,” he chuckles, placing a wet kiss on the top of your head.

"I guess you don't have space for one last treat then..." you smile against his skin as your hand drops to his belly. It feels tensed and a little swollen because of all the food he ate, and you start to massage it slowly.

"Treat?" Minho's eyes get all round and you hear him sniffing at the air in search of a distinct odor that will make him understand what are you referring to.

"I tried baking some cream eclairs." you smile at him, pinching the soft pudge below his belly button between your thumb and pointer. It's so soft that you wanna eat him whole.

"Well, I guess I can make some space, then".

You sit up again just in time to catch a glimpse of Minho's tongue lapping at the corner of his mouth, pre-savoring the dessert, and you feel a familar warmth spreading through your body. He is just too cute, too precious, too sweet to be yours.

"Let me get it for you. Wanna feed you." You smile as you stand up and head to the kitchen, the platter of creamy sweets ready in the oven.

When you come back, Minho is waiting for you with big pleading eyes, eager to taste the product of your baking. You place the plate on a cushion next to him, but instead of sitting down on the couch, you find your place on his lap, straddling his soft yet muscular thighs.

"Open wide." you say, taking one eclair in your hand and bringing it to Minho's mouth. You tap him under his chin and his mouth falls open easily.

Keeping eye contact, Minho leans forward to take a big bite, chewing slowly to let the flavor really envelop his senses. The lemon cream is sweet and warm, and it melts in his mouth.

You stare at him, pushing the eclair back to his lips when Minho is done chewing, inviting him to take another bite. With a loud gulp, Minho opens up again, and his tongue swirls against your thumb.

"How does it taste?" you ask while you brush a few crumbs from his lips.

Minho swallows the last bit of the eclair and the tip of his tongue laps at his plump lips once again. "Tastes amazing." he puffs out, his breath smells exactly like the cream.

"Want another?" you ask, taking the second one on your hand without even waiting for his answer.

"I am very full, baby." he mumbles, arm falling down to rest on the top of his stretched tummy. "I don't know if I can fit another one. But they taste like heaven."

"Just one more." you murmur as you leave a small peck on the corner of Minho's mouth, licking a bit of sugar away. "You look so cute when you eat. Please, just one more."

Minho sighs, his tummy is stretched and slighly uncomfortable, but saliva begins to pool inside his mouth as a pavlovian response to the thought of the sweet taste. "Just one more." he conceeds.

You hum and bring the pastry in front of his mouth. Minho diligently parts his lips once again and accepts the eclair. Crumbs are all over his shirt and pants, and there are cream smudges all around his pretty red mouth, even stuck between his teeth.

"So gorgeous for me." you whisper as your hips buck involuntarily against Minho's groin. And then you notice that you are not the only one enjoying this.

"You're hard, uh?" you ask with a chuckle, lowering your hand to cup him through his sweats and squeezing him lightly. Minho hisses and you rub his protruding stomach, feeling the soft skin under the fabric.

Minho finishes swallowing and breathes a sigh of relief as he hears you lowering the band of his sweats. “Yeah. It was sweet,” he huffs. "You are sweet. Got me all hard."

You take the opportunity to remove his pants completely to gain easy access to fondle him through his briefs in the process. Minho's breath is is soft and tender, and he smells amazing, all sugary and pretty for you.

"Wanna touch you. Can I, baby?" you ask, finding a comfortable position on the floor, between his parted legs.

The room is warm, but Minho's legs are tensed and his thin hair are fluffy. You caress them and massage the muscles underneath, and you see his fattened cock twitching against his groin. You see a few pearls of precum glistening on the chubby tip, and you wonder if his release would taste like cream if you fed him enough sweets. The thought is enough to rub your legs together, your panties are already sticking to your folds. But this is for Minho, you think.

"You can do anything you want to me." he murmurs, eyes almost closing and head resting on the cushions behind him.

You smile and you scoot forward to wrap one hand around his cock, squeezing it. His swollen cock immediately chubs up even more and wets the fabric of the sweatshirt. The cockhead looks all sensitive, and you tentatively circle the palm of your other hand around it, coaxing a sweet moan out of Minho's lips.

"My sweet, sweet boy." you coo, starting a lazy rhythm of stroking and circling, stopping just to stimulate his spongy head every once in a while. "You are so sweet that I wanna eat you up."

Minho's chuckles breathily and lets out a soft sob as his thighs begin to shake.

"Am I your dessert?" he asks, looking down at you with big eyes and still a few crumbs of eclair on the corner of his mouth. He mindlessly licks them off.

"You so are, pretty. You are my candy, my cake, my chocolate milk." you answer, sliding your thumb against his slit and making him whine slowly. "And I really need to eat you. I am serious."

You lower your head past his leaky cock to brush your cheek against the soft pudge under Minho's belly button. And then you bite him.

The tender flesh is warm and squishy, and the taste of Minho's skin, together with the cream scent still lingering in the air makes you moan against him.

"F-fuck, baby." he mutters, and you feel his cock throbbing in your fist.

With the tip of your tongue you lick at the velvety scar across his lower stomach and then you twirl it inside of his belly button, mimicking the way he usually fucks himself into you. He whines at the movement and his body twitches again.

"Love you." you whisper, keeping your grip steady on him. "Love how soft you get for me. How sweet. Love when you eat well and you look like this. You are so delicious, Mimo."

You keep biting softly at the fluffy fat of his pudge, savoring its taste and jerking him slowly, letting the schlick sound of his wet cock resonate through the room. Minho is pliant under your touch and his eyes are glassy.

"Uhm – I am. I-I am cumming, baby. Sorry." he moans when your finger dips a little into his slit.

"Don't be sorry, honey. You wanna cum?" you ask with a loving tone while your hand slides smoothly on his aching muscle. "Wanna cream on me like the sweet pastry you are? You can, pretty baby. Let it all go for me."

And Minho obeys, as he always does. With one last pump he begins to shoot thick ropes of creamy cum all over your hand and his round belly, covering his pale skin with glossy spurts that accumulate on the curve just above his ribcage.

When he is done, you lap at some of his release and it actually tastes sweet. It could be your imagination or just the fact that you are aroused, but you swear you can taste some of the cream on his orgasm.

"Wow." he puffs, hand covering his eyes in a shy attempt to hide himself. "That was... something."

You chuckle and kiss his tummy one last time before looking up to his face. "Then you will not be surprised when I'll tell you I baked more, right?"

Minho's face blushes to an adorable shade of pink. "Maybe... m-maybe I can eat one more".

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[beenbaanbuun]

ateez as sharks pt.2

too many sharks to choose from, to few members to assign them to. oh well! guess it just means i get to make a part two 👀

park seonghwa - epaulette shark

epaulette sharks are STUNNING!!! they are the epitome of sleek and genderless in shark form and i know seonghwa would adore them

epaulette sharks are incredibly unique (they can walk on land!!) and use that to their survival advantage. obviously seonghwa doesn’t use his beautiful uniqueness for survival, but it makes him stand out so beautifully just like the epaulette shark

kim hongjoong - portjackson shark

another cunty little shark for our cunty little guy. these guys are so gorgeous and cool and honestly remind me of hongjoong more than i care to admit

they’re known for being rather small, most of them not even growing to be one metre, and while they’re not particularly ferocious, they do have a generous spine protruding from their secondary dorsal fin. it’s like how hongjoong doesn’t look necessarily intimidating at first glance, but get him on stage and holy moly…

jeong yunho - bonnethead shark

i cant stop assigning silly looking sharks to jeong yunho and i will NOT apologise for that!! mr silly himself deserves to be represented by an animal just as silly as he is!!

they’re known to be pretty social sharks, often swimming in groups rather than by themselves. they’re not selfish or individualistic like a lot of other shark species and i think that represents yunho perfectly. he loves his team to death and you can clearly see that

kang yeosang - leopard shark

another cute little guy that i think represents yeosang so perfectly. whilst not as silly looking or as colourful as zebra sharks, they’re still sweet little guys with not a single bad bone in their body (well… cartilage i suppose)

they’re actually seen to display little to no fear of humans and are often viewed as being docile in nature. this doesn’t apply to their prey though since they’re pretty good hunters! it just reminds me of how yeosang is also seen as being ‘docile’ but behind it all there is an amazingly talented performer who isn’t afraid to be a little aggressive on stage when he needs to be

choi san - basking shark

now personally i hate basking sharks (which does NOT reflect on my views of choi san, i love that man so much!!) but i do have to say they’re the perfect choice for san…

they’re another species of shark that are viewed as being ‘gentle giants’, growing up to 8 metres in length yet only being filter feeders. i personally am afraid of them because of how scary they look despite just being big slow guys living their life peacefully; a sentiment i see reflected with san a lot (despite the fact that i don’t know how anyone can be scared of that big ball of fluff)

song mingi - hammerhead shark

listen guys, in the same way that saw sharks are just silly little men that are absolutely adorable, hammerhead sharks are also just fucked up little guys that most people agree are very sweet

these guys are literally physically incapable of hurting people, partly because of their sweet nature but also partly because of their tiny mouths. now i’m not saying mingi has a small mouth because that would be a lie, but i am saying that i don’t think that man could every intentionally hurt someone without feeling terrible for 4-5 business days

jung wooyoung - lemon shark

THIS IS THE COMPARISON IM MOST ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT GUYS!!! lemon sharks are so sweet and also very pretty (just like wooyoung)

due to their large brains, lemon sharks are incredibly social animals and often crave the attention of divers, swimming up to them and letting the divers touch and interact with them. they’re also known to express negative emotions (similar to jealousy) when divers are giving other sharks more attention. i just think with how sociable and sweet wooyoung is, this is the perfect shark

choi jongho - blue shark

am i sorry for continuing to give jongho the sharks that look like they’ve never had a thought in their life? absolutely not! he has those big beautiful boba eyes, he has to face the consequences

these little guys are incredibly versatile. they’ll live almost anywhere in temperate or tropical water, they’ll eat pretty much anything (even krill, despite them not being filter feeders), and whilst not necessarily being dangerous to people, have been known to take a nibble every now and then. maybe it’s just me but whenever i think versatile i think of jongho, and this shark looking a little silly just makes it even better

[narafeedee]

Do you think you could talk more about what happened during those five weeks where you gained 50 lbs? I can only imagine that it was a mixture of amazing and annoying to grow so rapidly, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!!

sure!

before i start i have to preface with some warnings; this gets pretty detailed and graphic regarding some of the health issues i had at the time. do not read if you are not okay with that please.

i was in a weird spot at the time; my husband had left me a couple months before all of this and i was exploring myself and who i was now that my marriage was over. a large contributing factor to that separation was feedism; my sexual needs just were not met with someone who wasn’t into it.

it started early in the week of Thanksgiving, Tuesday 11/20/18. i met a feeder online four years prior who had gotten me from just above 200lbs to 300lbs slowly but steadily. to this day the best feeder i’ve ever met, sincerely considerate and never once crossed any boundaries.

he came to me with a proposition the weekend prior; gain from 300lb to 350lb by the end of the year and i will fund it.

say less.

that Tuesday was the first time i ever video called with another feedist; it wasn’t the feeder that proposed and funded this challenge, instead it was a guy that pushed me to eat until i threw it all back up because he’s really into emetophilia, i didn’t really know the limits of my stomach so i let him.

however, that evening launched me into the most insane five weeks of my life.

when i woke up Wednesday morning i was somehow starving; despite not keeping anything down the night prior my stomach had still stretched out considerably. that on top of how insanely horny i was at the thought of packing on 50lbs by new years i spent the entire day shoveling in as much food as humanly possible. i didn’t count calories that day, just pushed myself to the absolute limit.

when i woke up Thursday i was impossibly hungry and ready to do it all again. i did the same thing as before, just as much food as humanly possible all day; i distinctly remember dinner being a large pizza, garlic knots, specialty chicken, lava cakes, and a 2 liter of soda from Domino’s.

when i woke up Friday i had a goal; 10,000 calories a day until the ball drops.

and that is exactly what i did.

every morning i would wake up and drink a pint of heavy cream for an easy 1600 calories to start the day right. i would swing by McDonald’s on my way to work and get two McGriddles and a large iced coffee. i’d get to work and have a blender bottle on my desk also full of heavy cream and sometimes condensed milk, i would either drink straight from it or add it to cups of coffee from the break room.

at lunch i would always order with my coworkers to have something delivered… but i would also leave on my lunch break and go back to McDonald’s for 4 McChickens and a large diet coke. then come back to the office and eat the lunch i had ordered with my coworkers.

after work i would swing through another drive thru, often McDonald’s once again. I’d get a couple sandwiches but nothing crazy, just a light snack to hold me over til dinner.

i would order massive feasts for delivery from Domino’s or I’d go back out after dark and order enough food for a family of 4. you guessed it, usually from McDonald’s.

to finish my night, i would drink another pint of heavy cream. totaling 3200 calories of straight fat every single day.

the weight piled on rapidly; new stretchmarks were appearing daily.

this is where i should put a disclaimer. this is all 100% true, every single detail is lived experience. i know it sounds insane. it was. i have literal scars to prove it. one feedist saw me do it live and in person, in the flesh, i believe he follows me on here so if you’re reading this G, please corroborate.

i gained 10lbs a week through the end of the year. i was cumming harder than i ever had before. my entire life was consumed by food and gaining.

i did not have a bed to sleep in at the time; there were some other issues i was dealing with that made it so i had to sleep in a recliner in my living room.

because i was gaining so rapidly and sleeping with my legs below my heart, i developed extremely bad edema. my legs were so swollen they started to weep a clear liquid; i would put on a pair of leggings and they would be soaked from the knee down before i even left the house. my shoes were soaked. i developed ulcers on my shins that just would not heal, the skin almost looked necrotic but they would just weep all day every day with no relief and stick to anything i tried to wear.

mid-December i was bursting out of my clothes. most of the weight i gained went straight to my belly. i went on a little shopping spree at Torrid and had to buy all 5’s and 6’s for the first time.

my mobility suffered at this point as well. i couldn’t do much of anything without getting red-faced and winded within a minute of moving. i had a step tracker at the time and was only walking about 200 steps a day, literally the bare minimum for me to go to work and come home.

i had no time for my body to adjust to the weight so i developed a heavy waddle. my back absolutely killed me.

i swear some days i woke up actually feeling fatter and looking fatter. it was the absolute hottest thing i have ever done and probably ever will do. i started at about 303lbs and landed at 357lb on New Year’s day. my gains didn’t actually slow down til i was in the mid 360s despite my efforts to pump the brakes.

would i do it again? absolutely not. i was in excruciating pain and the ulcers on my legs did not stop for an entire year (after i gained another 50lbs in an 8 week period but we ain’t talking about that [even tho i still have all the content i made from that gain lol])

but if i went back in time i would not change a thing except better leg elevation and compression. i do not regret it for a second; it’s what shaped me as a feedist and i’m grateful i was able to do it, i don’t have pics from when it was really bad but the scars i have today are still evident.

so yeah! that’s the story! sorry it’s super rambling, i sincerely hope it was coherent, now i gotta go clean my toys so i can take care of myself cause lord 🥵 thems some intense memories, my only regret is i deleted 99% of the pics and videos i took at that time.

here’s a couple more pics; one is my cart at the grocery in early December, the other is a screenshot of the weight gain calculator i used from the same week when i realized i didn’t have to eat 10k a day, i could make it happen with 7k a day but the former sounded much better (read: hotter) to me

[sister-lucifer]

READ THE FIRST PART HERE 

READ PART THREE HERE

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty but has a happy ending, not explicitly romantic

Summary: It’s been raining all day, and the gloomy weather has you thinking about what could’ve been, and especially what never will be.

Content/Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death/suicide, it’s a little sad, I guess? But that’s it. Reader just speculates on how life would’ve been if the Operator hadn’t fucked them over and gets down about it, but theres a happy ending. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

It’s raining again. Not that that’s new. Springtime out here sees its fair share of storms. Normally you’d observe the rain from inside, but today something inside was gnawing at you for some fresh air. 

The old rocking chair creaks beneath your weight, moving to and fro softly as you watch the rain. It comes down in sheets off the sides of the cover, splattering to the muddy ground and making a shallow moat around the patio. It lands loudly on the old tin roof, rattling and groaning in a manner that is far too dramatic. It obscures anything beyond the perimeter of the cabin and hides everything in a misty haze. 

It’s going to be foggy tomorrow, you think. It usually is when it rains like this. It’ll be cold for the next few days, too, and the ground will be soggy for weeks. Miserable weather, that is. Not that that’s new. 

It’s a good day to wonder, that’s all. You’ve been doing plenty of that lately. A bit too much, maybe, but there’s no helping that. 

You’ve been living out here with Tim for…shit. How long has it been? Almost a year, you think, but your perception of time is unreliable at best. It’s just one of the many things you lost when your world turned upside down.

That’s what it’s really about. The loss. Tim doesn’t like to talk about it, but you know you both feel it, him even more so than you. He was going to go to college, get a degree, and he’d be damn good at it, too. He was going to find a place of his own, maybe adopt a dog, a big old Saint Bernard like he had when he was a boy, the only type of housemate that wouldn’t annoy him. That’s what he’s told you, anyways. Not sober, of course, not even close; he’d never tell you anything that personal without at least a bit of alcohol in his system. He’s been drinking less since you showed up, though. You noticed he was cutting back a couple months after you moved in. You wonder if you’ll ever get him to open up like that again.

But those were Tim’s plans. He was already in his mid twenties when things really went south, you were barely out of high school when everything started. You didn’t really have plans. So…what are you mourning, exactly? 

You don’t really have an answer to that. 

You didn’t really have a set path for yourself. Your plan barely existed, and it’s feeble skeleton was little more than an intention to simply float around until something caught your eye. You’d find your way eventually, there was no need to worry. At least, that’s what you used to think. 

Now where do you go?

You didn’t have any real plans, no, and you can’t mourn something that never existed, but it there’s this heavy feeling that comes with knowing you’ll never be able to choose. 

That’s what it comes down to, you realize. Choice. 

No, you didn’t have any plans, but that was because you had all the options you could ever want. Now, you don’t have any plans because you’ve only got one. 

Tim does everything he can to keep you entertained out here. Hell, he risks his life every time he walks down the path to his truck to go to town for you, or when he just steps off the porch to refill the bird feeder he knows you love to watch. Nothing outside of these walls in these woods is safe. If it weren’t raining so hard, he’d tear you a new one for even sitting on the porch. 

It’s a miserable existence, but it’s so nice to have someone to be miserable with, even if he can’t change anything. 

You just wish that was enough to push away that yearning for more, that subtle thrumming ache that only wells up in your stomach late at night, that want that urges you to just take the truck and leave, to forget this cabin and Tim and everything in these godforsaken woods. 

But you can’t. 

You’d die. And even if you didn’t, the guilt of stranding Tim would eat you alive, especially knowing he’d kill himself before letting that thing get him. 

You don’t want to think about that. You push the thoughts away before they can take root in your mind. It’s better to just not consider that possibility at all. 

You jump when you hear the front door open. You look back to see Tim standing there, one hand buried in his pocket and the other still on the door handle. 

“The hell are you doin’ out here?” He huffs, “I been yellin’ for ya, thought you up and ran off.” 

You give him a weak smile, but you can’t keep it up for very long. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, curling up as if trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You mumble an apology, but don’t look at him. 

He pauses, then, and you can imagining his expression changing to confusion and then concern before he covers it up again. His footsteps come up behind you, the wooden porch creaking beneath him. His hand grabs the back of the rocking chair and forces it to still before he pulls it backward to get a look at you.

“…What’s up with you, kid?” 

You shrug. It’s an easier response than an explanation, but it doesn’t satisfy him at all. 

“C’mon, we both know that’s bullshit,” He says with a dry chuckle, and he’s entirely correct. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sigh, thinking for a moment about your answer. 

“…It’s just…I dunno. Do you ever, like…think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…you know…”

It’s a stammering, stumbling attempt at explaining yourself, but he understands. He nods, crossing his arms and leaning back against the house. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replies, scratching at his stubble, “But if I’m bein’ honest, it ain’t gonna do you any good. That sorta thing only gets ya down.”

He’s right about that, too. If only it were that easy to just stop. It’s just so hard not to wonder at least every once in a while, it’s human nature. You just wish you knew when to stop. You just wish you were able to ignore the ‘what if’s that piled up in the back of your mind until they couldn’t stand anymore and toppled over into a pathetic mess of rubble. They’ll crush you one day if you aren’t careful, but such an idea seems almost inevitable. 

“Do you think—“ You start, but stop short before you can get any further. Tim quirks a brow, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that skeptical face. 

“…Do I think what?” He asks. 

You hesitate to answer. Is this really a question you want to ask? If this starts an argument you won’t be able to take back, will it ruin the comfort you and Tim have finally managed to establish with each other? You can’t just not tell him now, though, or you’ll just piss him off more. He doesn’t care for secrets, but he can’t stand when someone wusses out of a conversation at the last second. 

“…Do you think if you had the chance you would…like, go back in time? If you could make it to where none of this ever happened, would you?”

You feel stupid asking that, and it doesn’t help that Tim is silent for far too long before he answers. You’re already regretting this. 

Tim finally opens his mouth, and he stammers for a few moments before his sounds turn into words.

“…I don’t really think I can answer that, kid. That’s a tough one.” 

He sounds monotone, almost uncaring, but you can tell he’s doing it on purpose

to conceal whatever he doesn’t want you to know he’s feeling. You finally turn to look at him with a look that says ‘Can you please try?’ 

His eyes widen for a moment, his shoulders tensing in that subtle way they only do when he’s scared. His lips part slowly, and it sounds like he’s forcing his next words out. 

“I don’t know. Maybe? I…”

He trails off, and you turn away again. Then there’s silence for another few moments. 

Then he’s beside your chair, slowly lowering himself to sit down and doing that annoyed groan he does anytime he has to strain his back. He takes a moment to get comfortable, and you see him reach for his pocket to grab a cigarette only to sigh in disappointment when he realizes he left them inside. You feel bad for smiling, but at least he won’t be able to hide behind his smoke the way he likes to when a conversation makes him uncomfortable. 

He accepts his fate, leaning back on his hands and staring out into the rain with you. 

“I might,” He finally says, “But it wouldn’t be an easy choice.” 

“Why not?” You ask, and for some reason he chuckles at that. 

“Good question. This isn’t how I expected things to end up, no one does, but…I couldn’t just up and leave this.” 

‘This’ he says. ‘This?’ That hardly answers your question. You quirk a brow at him, and he begrudgingly continues. 

“You know, I just…I’ve gotten attached to all this—“ 

“What’s this, exactly?” You interrupt, and he winces like he was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “I can’t imagine there being anything here worth sticking around for.”

“…There wasn’t. Not for a long time,” He says, and now it’s your turn to pause. 

“…What did you say?” 

“There wasn’t,” He repeats, “Not until…not when I was alone. But now…” 

‘You,’ you realize that’s what he’s trying to say, ‘You are the only thing worth staying for.’ 

For some reason, that hurts. Maybe you feel guilty that you ever thought about leaving him, or maybe you feel bad that you of all people are his only friend. The bar for happiness is really low around here. 

You slowly unfurl from your spot on the chair, letting your feet rest on the porch as you slump down a bit. 

“So…you’re saying you wouldn’t?”

You expected an immediate answer. Stupid of you, really. He’s hesitating again. You’d thought you’d get a quick yes or no. You’re not sure if this is better or worse. 

“I’m not…saying anything,” Tim assures you, “I’m just saying that…I’d at least have to think about it.” 

“Yeah, but you have to make a choice,” You say with an eye roll, and the words coming out more forceful than you intended. Fortunately, his stoney exterior deflects any vitriol you could spew at him. 

The silence that settles over you this time is heavy. It makes you slump even further down in your chair. You hate the silence that always follows when you say something that turned out far too mean. 

You don’t breathe until Tim speaks again.

“Okay, yeah…I would.” 

You don’t know how you feel about that answer, but you don’t have much time to think before he continues. 

“But only because I’d know where to find you this time.” 

That surprises you. You sit back up in your chair, looking down at him with an unmistakably confused look. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, and your cheeks warm a bit when he chuckles at your noise of bewilderment.

“I’d do it, yeah, but I couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself,” He explains, “I’d do it, but I wouldn’t abandon you. Now I know who you are, what you liked to do, where you’d hang out, all those things from before shit hit the fan. I just don’t want you to think I’d, ya know…forget about you like that. I’d come find you, that’s all. I think we’d find each other anyways, though.”

Something in your chest aches as he speaks, and it makes you want to curl up again, but you can’t move. You stare at him for a long few moments, and you’re lucky he doesn’t look up at you because you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. You can’t even blink. 

“I told you kid,” He adds, “I care about you. I always have.”

What do you say to that? 

You don’t know, so you stay silent. You want to say something, to return the monument of emotion he’s just offered to you, to somehow express reciprocity, but you don’t know how. You’re silent. 

You don’t move as Tim stands back up, cracking his back and stretching his legs. He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. 

“I gotta go start dinner,” He says curtly, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don’t spend too long out here. If you get sick, Imma say I told you so.” 

You nod, but give no further response. He pulls his hand away, and you think that’s the end of it, but just as you realize you haven’t heard him go to leave you feel him leaning over you. 

You tense. You’re not sure why, but you do. 

You feel him press a brief kiss to the top of your head before he pulls away again. It wasn’t even a kiss, really, he just pushed his lips against your head for a moment, but for that moment it was like everything you’d ever worried about up until that point was arbitrary. It doesn’t last long, but it lingers in the air like the smoke from Tim’s cigarettes as he pulls away and walks back into the house. 

You’re alone again.

Now what? 

You weigh your options for a moment, but once Tim’s footsteps disappear into the house it feels far too quiet out here, even with the rain beating down on the roof above you. 

You wait for only a few moments more to make sure you won’t seem too eager to follow him before you get up, lazily making your way back inside. 

You find yourself wondering again, this time about what Tim is making for dinner tonight, and you take a second to appreciate the pleasure in such simple problems. 

There are things that will never be now, and there’s no changing that.

But for tonight, this is pretty damn nice. 

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[cowboycannibalism]

Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Smashing Pumpkins// Saw 2004// Caged Rat, Soul Asylum// The Jig Is Up, Ice Nine Kills// Rats!Rats!Rats!, Deftones// Hatchet, Movements

I know there's heavy association of Adam with the dog motif (which I love) but I swear I've heard Bullet with Butterfly Wings on the radio way too many times during the last month while thinking about Saw for it to be a coincidence

Rats symbolize impoverishment, disease, the lowest of low.

"He's not a cop. He's a bottom feeder, just like you."

Jigsaw calls him angry and apathetic, and we'll be honest here, he is on the surface. He calls his apartment a shithole, he knows his job is shitty but it keeps him fed, and he's just dragging himself through life because he's pretty much already convinced himself this is as good as its going to get.

But here's the other thing about rats: they will do anything to try to survive. Sometimes, that means just doing what they've been conditioned to do by the world around them.

Have you ever seen a rat backed into a corner? or stuck in a trap? they will scream and thrash violently to try and free themselves.

From the moment he wakes up in the tub, Adam is moving. Throughout the movie, he has a hard time staying still, trying to escape, trying to survive. He is loud and frantic. Even though he is pessimistic about life, he wants to live.

also, to swing back around to the Smashing Pumpkins lyrics in particular, I thought a lot about how Adam mentions his ex, thinking he was "too angry." If you've dug into that song a little, it's interpreted in a lot of ways but a common one is oppression and being stuck in a situation/world where you're aware of escape but incapable of it. Adam knows he should appreciate life more, but what's the point when he lives the way that he does and nothing seems to ever get better? Anger feels like the only option and honestly sometimes it is.

(not to get too political or whatever, but if we never get angry enough to do anything, nothing will ever change. Don't let anyone tell you that emotions don't belong in politics/social issues because that's a fucking stupid take.)

[contlis12]

Male Feedee and Genderless Feeder dark feederism short story

Cole groggily came to feelings his feeder lifting his legs with the straps they had installed in the bedroom after Cole had passed the 550 pound mark and changing and cleaning was becoming more of an issue. Pushing the massive parachute sized white underwear half way up his thighs ready to squeeze them past his sagging hips when they finally got him standing. As his feeder was slipping on his bariatric soft socks over his plump feet Cole asked almost nervously “why are you dressing me already? I haven’t even had my first feeding yet” his feeder just chuckled sweetly. “Oh we are going to do your breakfast out on the couch today, you are going to need the energy you’ll be busy today” they said rubbing lotion into the crevasses of Coles fat struggling to keep him from getting any bed rash or chub rub spending so long in bed and being so unhealthy and massively fat. Coles walk or more accurately waddle to the living room couch was eventful to say the least at one point Cole had broken down in tears begging to go to back to bed and that he couldn’t make it to the couch and had to be taken in his bariatric wheel chair the rest of the way to the couch. “There piggy I know this was hard and you are really cranky from being hungry so I’m going to make sure your belly is aching after this feast and you feel all better baby” and they weren’t exaggerating. Giant bowls heaped to the top with gravy and biscuits, greasy hashbrowns swimming in ketchup, even glazed doughnuts with slices of American cheese melted on the top of them. Coles feeder loved listening to him retch in pain so full his stomach is screaming to expel the food to make room and then greedily scarfing down the next bite making guttural gulping and snorts as he loses control plunging his mouth into the greasy low quality slop he’s been conditioned to love. After what seemed like hours Coles feeder had considered it satisfactory and let the pig stop eating and left in a messy ketchup and gravy covered mess. Grinning they came over and softly rubbed the sagging slab of fat that Coles gut had grown into a huge stretch mark covered waterfall of fat going nearly to his knees. “That’s such a good job piggy, I’m glad you ate plenty so you have the energy to entertain your friends tonight”. 

Coles already thudding heart started racing even faster as his food fogged brain started to realize what his feeder had just said. “Whu-what do you mean?” Cole stammered looking down at his feeder now with their head resting on his stomach looking  sweetly up at him. “Oh I invited your friends out to finally visit with you again, they all missed you so much so I kept up with them for you and set up a surprise visit honey” Coles mouth dropped open as he seen the glint in his feeders eyes as they drank in the absolute shock on his face. “I’m tired of you not giving me my due recognition Cole, you lay in my house pigging out all day eating up my money and you’ve never once told anybody how proud you were to be my piggy and grow for me. You try and hide that body I’ve grown and I’m due some respect and you to be a little more grateful” Cole began to let the words tumble out of his still open mouth “I-I-uh” his feeder puts a finger up to his lips. “Don’t speak because I don’t care, you need to learn how to give in this relationship and you are going to start by letting all your friends see what I’ve grown you into and how happy you are that I was kind enough to pick you for all this affection and time”. Cole hoped this was another role play scenario his feeder, there’s no way that this could be real. “They are going to be here in about 15 minutes or less. They texted me they were close to town towards the end of your breakfast. I was hoping to have you better dressed but there’s no way we could even get you into the bathroom that fast much less cleaned up and I need to welcome everyone in since you can’t open the door or really do anything but sit there and eat ofcourse” Coles eyes widened as he looked down and seen his massive exposed food stained body. His underwear were almost completely swallowed by his cascading waterfall of fat his body had turned into, if you didn’t look close you’d assume him nude. “Please you can’t do this to me! I can’t face people I used to know in this state!” Cole wailed eyes streaming tears that mixed with the ketchup staining his bloated fat puffy cheeks. “Oh I can’t? Okay Cole go walk to the bedroom and get yourself dressed” his feeder said coldly armed crossed smiling. “I can’t! You know I can’t!” His feeder walked over looming over him sitting on the couch “exactly so stop telling me what we are going to do piggy! You are going to learn your place, you are out of control princess!” They said grinning ear to ear at this point. “Now beg me, ask me like a pathetic hog since you’ve ate your manners away with your self control”. “Please I’m sorry can I get cleaned up and clothes” he said angry and totally mentally drained at this point knowing this wasn’t going to stop. “No” his feeder immediately replied “you are going to learn to respect me piggy, but I’ll let you have a shirt”.

Coles three closets friends all pilled out of the van they’d rode in from the airport in. “I can’t believe Coles partner paid for all our tickets here and everything! I mean seriously that guy is lucky to have a partner with those kind of expenses.” Mike said to Kayla “Yeah nice house too, must have been an old couples or something before. There aren’t even steps just a wheel chair ramp”. “I’m just glad to see the guy again, it’s been over two years since he moved out here with them and he barely kept touch. Honestly kind of annoying” Danny said following them up the ramp. “Oh stop Danny, you know how life can be. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, at least the old gang is back for a few days!” Kayla said as she rung the door bell on the large oversized double door that seemed way too big for a suburban single level home. Coles feeder answered the door “Hey guys! Hope the flight wasn’t too bad” as they helped them bring everyones bags in. “No not at all, so where’s Cole? I can’t wait to see him!” Kayla said looking at the kitchen that’s as near the entrance to the home. Where those funnels on the wall? Surprising that they are still doing beer bongs at this point but who is Kayla to judge, they all used to party with Cole alot. Coles feeder smiles “oh he’s in the living room watching tv” as she points to the next room. Kayla is the first to walk into the living room and Danny walls face first into her back as she completely stops in her tracks “what the hell Kayla?” He starts to say as he hears Kayla say “Cole? Cole?” And I raspy breathy voice responds “yea hi Kayla” Danny peers around her shoulders to see Cole and nearly drops his jaw on the floor as he accidentally lets a “oh my god” without even realizing he had said it out loud. Looking at what he is told is his old friend he can’t believe it. He wasn’t even sure if the thing melting into that couch was male. Coles huge stretch mark stomach hung obscenely out of the too small shirt his feeder had pulled over his torso that barley even covered his belly button. “Yeah I kind of gained a lot of weight” Cole said staring down at the floor to embarrassed to even meet his friends eyes “uhh yeah you’ve gained some weight” Mike said finally after standing silently behind the other two “are you doing okay buddy?” He said walking towards the pile of fat that spilled off the sagging couch. “Yeah I just have a- I have an eating disorder I think” he said nervously. His feeder stepped into the room behind them “Cole has had some issues in the past we are trying to work on and even spoke about this morning but let’s not worry about that now. You guys are old friends! Sit down please you guys need to catch up!” Coles feeder said putting a hand on Mikes shoulder “he always talked about you guys so much”. The three friends looked at each other concerned before Mike spoke up “ofcourse no need to dwell on this negative stuff I’m just happy we are all together. It’s always good to see old friends”.

The evening had gone well until the pizza Coles feeder had ordered had arrived. His feeder had came in the room with a tv tray and a few boxes of pizza as they started laying slice after slice of pizza in a large dinner bowl. “I got you the extreme pepperoni lovers with extra extra cheese you like honey, I know you are starving. Let me get your ranch” coming in the room with a huge bottle of ranch Coles friends stare in amazement as Coles feeder starts squirting messy cup fulls of ranch all over the pizza that was messily thrown into the bowl

“Now eat fast because you have a lot more to finish babe” they say as they give Coles belly a hard open palmed smack after filling the bowl to the max. “Do you really think he should be eating that?” Mike says as Coles feeder starts walking back to the kitchen. “Excuse me?” Coles feeder says still holding the massive bottle of ranch. “I said do you think he should eat all of that?” Mike said pointing at Cole. “I mean seriously what was that? Look at that pile of cheese and ranch! You are killing him!” Mike says raising his voice.  Kayla puts a hand on his arm “Mike” as he pulls away. “No Kayla it isn’t right! They are killing him and enabling him with this weird fucking fetish! Look at him!”. Danny stands up beside Mike “He’s right Kayla, it’s obvious this is some weird feeder kink thing and they are enabling Cole. This is just as bad as somebody handing an alcoholic beer Kayla.” Coles feeder puts their hands on their hips and surveys them all. “Do you think he doesn’t want this? Coles happier than he has ever been being my feedee” they walk over squirting an even more obscene amounts of ranch on his pizza as they grin at Coles friends “Do you want more piggy?” Coles feeder coos pinching Coles double chin “or maybe your friends are right maybe we should put you on a diet” Cole weakly clutches at his feeders shirt “please feed me I’m so hungry piggy wants more” Coles feeder picks up a messy handful of the ranch covered pizza and holds it up to his nose. In a moment Cole is digging his face into the messy pizza slop making obscene oinking and gasps “feed me please I’m a good piggy grow my belly!” Feeling his feeders fingers push the pizza over his tongue.

Mike huffs in disgust “fine, I’m not being a part of this weird fetish bullshit. Have fun eating yourself to death Cole. I really hope you get some help but I think you are too far gone” as he walks into the entryway grabbing his bag and walking to the street “I’m calling an Uber”. Danny stands without saying anything besides “Bye Cole” and following Mike out to the porch. Kayla walks over absolutely disgusted about what is happening before her “Cole please, we can get you help. You aren’t going to live like this. You aren’t happy, you can’t be” Coles feeder pulls the slop away from his face “what do you think honey ready to leave me and get help?”. Coles eyes roll as he looks at Kayla’s distraught and disgusted face “Piggy needs feeding tube, so hungry” is all Cole moans in response. Coles feeder grins at Kayla “want to help”. Kayla looks at Cole one last time “Fuck you” she says to Coles feeder before looking down at Cole “bye Cole, good luck” before walking out of the front double door to join her friends waiting for their Uber as she wonders if Cole will even be able to fit out of them by the next year.

[machveil]

König headcanon

okay, so I’ve read some stuff about how König would have a very minimalist apartment/house - and I agree wholeheartedly. But let me raise you this:

König, who’s living bare to the bones, adopting a little, fluffy cat

just the smallest, cutest little thing. always giving him gentle little purrs and follows him around everywhere

at first he just has the essentials - litter box, a cute little cat bed doesn’t even use it, sleeps in his bed, food and water bowls, a couple fun toys

he’s a sucker for his little kitty though, and seeing her gently headbutt against his ankle for attention melts his heart

suddenly he’s buying her different collars (and matching leashes because he is definitely taking her on walks with him)

he bought a cat tree for her… and then upgraded to a whole cat highway throughout his home

she needs to be able to explore everything, might as well let her race around the walls, right?

his little kitty is a massive sunbather, she adores the warm sunlight

but when it’s cloudy and dreary outside he’s buying her two heating pads - one for the couch and one is his room

suddenly König’s home is covered in cat toys and fluffy items for her to snuggle up to

his couch that had nothing on it before? Fluffy blanket draped over it, a couple soft pillows, and a heating pad

his kitchen that was getting no love? Jars of cat treats that are never empty and an automatic feeder with a little placemat under it. He’s suddenly buying new cooking equipment so he can make his little cat homemade treats.

his prison looking bedroom is suddenly full of life - his brick of a mattress is replaced with a softer one so she’s more inclined to cuddle up to him, there’s a massive quilt suddenly thrown on the bed, his pillows double so she can lay about on them. There’s little mice toys all over the place, her old cat tree set next to his window so she can sit on top of it and look outside

so yeah, minimalist König is always top tier, but König making his home the most cat friendly place ever is just a little better in my opinion.

he definitely changes his at-home wardrobe to be more comfy so his kitty is snuggly with him

[brucewaynehater101]

They are so big and so cute! And if Huggin and Munnin are well above the average size of ravens they could be nearly the size of Tim's torso. Certainly bigger than his head. Plus they are so, so smart. Some of the smartest birds in the world. Imagine Tim getting in kidnapped as a civilian and Huggin simply grabs the key for him while Munnin acts as a look out. Tim escapes without ever being seen.

Tim also has special "bird doors" in his Nest so the whole place is filled with his many birds. Sure not all of them live there because he set up dozens of safe places around the city that are basically just Reall Big Pigeon Roosts with bird feeders in them that all types of birds are allowed in. Also the bird doors are much to small for any human to fit through, much like dog and cat doors are, and they do have actual sliding metal doors on them that are opened and unlocked by proximity of the little cameras he put on some of his birds. Roughly 4 owls, 8 pigeons, 3 Bluejays, 2 hawks, 17 crows, 9 grackles, and 20 ravens have access to his Nest. Are those a lot of keys just flying around the city? Yes. But no one knows the birds are his, Tim is constantly trying to make smaller and smaller cameras for them so that they will never be spotted, and who the fuck is gunna point to a random bird and go "that bitch has the key to Red Robin's house." And be believed by anyone who would help them catch a fucking pigeon that's just minding their own buisness?business??

The only beings who notice the cameras are other birds and the strange sparkly spot on his birds chest? It only gives his birds more Rizz. There was a study about how Zebra Finches actually preferred to mate with those who had on red tracking tags over other colors so what if this is similar? This would also mean that every spring Tim has an exponentially larger amount of birds.

Also the funniest way for the family to find out. It's one of the very rare sunny days in summer where it's Actually Hot in Gothem so the family decides it's the perfect day to use the pool in the back yard of Wayne Manor. Everyone is having an amazing time and eventually Tim gets tired so he sits down on one of the reclining pool chairs for a rest and snack, which is his chocolate free trail mix. He has a large bowl of it and ends up falling asleep with it in his lap. Just as the siblings are giggling and deciding what prank to play, a crow lands next to Tim and sqwacks a few times. Tim mumbles in his sleep but doesn't move so the bird hops up onto Tim's chair and starts to eat out of his bowl. Since it doesn't get shooed away, soon others are joining it. The family watches in amazement as Tim gets *covered* in birds that are casually eating from his bowl. There's even a pair of hawks that are perched above his head. When the bowl is empty, one of the crows bites Tim on the nose, startling him awake and he glares at the feathery fiend and very gently taps it on the beak as he scolds, "Monroe, I told you to stop biting my nose. Wait- you guys ate all my trail mix!" He has forgotten that his siblings are there because it's usually the birds or siblings, never both.

Oh, and when they eventually ask why he hid the birds, Tim simply says, "last time anyone found out, Janet called an exterminator."

I love this so much. Him building little nests all over the city for them is adorable and great. It would be cool if he started that before his Robin years as he was out and about in Gotham. He just built small little safe places for the birds, and it rapidly expanded as Tim got more experience, more resources, and more birds to look after.

Your logic with the keys is fantastic! When the batfam finds out, I bet birds pop by Tim's place while whatever family member is just chilling. Like maybe they are watching a movie and said bat gets distracted by the coming and goings of various birds (the birds probably also mess a bit with Tim or his space as fond pestering before leaving again). Maybe a few are just staring at the family member without blinking or taking a nap.

I wonder if Damian would start to make excuses to go over to Tim's Nest as much as possible. He states he needs to "ensure Timothy is maintaining adequate nesting conditions for the various species of birds" or that he will "test the Nest's security" by dropping by unannounced and breaking in.

Perhaps some of the birds watch over his various family members for Tim? Especially Duke because nobody else works the day shift with him, and birds are more common during the day (and thus less suspicious).

[bryanchal]

for me, lestappen comes down to this:

this is just my ramblings to one of my friend who i write fics with and it turned insanely poetic so here you go

there's a boy. this boy with the horrible haircut and sea green eyes and pretty smile keeps beating me and anytime he doesn't beat me he's angry even though i always beat the other kids and they don't care but this boy with the pretty brown hair and pretty green eyes hisses and bites and growls and pushes me off the track into a puddle and the next thing i know he's had a glorious season in a feeder series i skipped and then he's a tester and he's in the paddock smiling at me and then he's in formula 1.

and then he's in a prestigious team with rosso corsa all over living out the dream he once told me when we were kids before a karting race when he was still angry at me and then i push him off in austria and that anger is back and his eyes are still that same green but just a little darker and he scowls at me in the plane we're sharing back home and he's unfollowed me on instagram.

and then i win my first championship and he's nowhere to be found and it hurts but i find him across the yacht in my party and im so drunk i shout at him and he shouts back and he hits his head and i don't know what's happening to me.

then the next year he wins the first race with his teammate behind him and i can't even finish it. and then the next race we fight like madmen, like the predestined rivals they called us so long ago and still do today. then the next race he wins again and i can't finish again. but then i start winning and he's still there at the top but it's not him that's failing its his team and he's so perfect and i see the way he's angry after imola and monaco and i just want him to be there with me. then austria comes and we laugh and smile at each other and it doesn't matter that i lost because of my tyres because he's so happy and there's no feeling better than being beaten by him.

and then i win my second, and my third and now he's laughing and smiling and talking back. sometimes i still can't find him but other times he's right next to me on the front row and i just know if he got the chance he would make it every weekend. at some random, cold high exposure city in america he's on pole and im right behind him and i push him off in the first turn because i lost grip and i hate this track but it doesn't matter he fights back and he only loses because of a safety car. i get out of the car and apologise to him and it's so so warm and i love this track i love the feeling of him spraying champagne on my face giggling. then the final race he's fighting like he never has for his team to gain one more position in the constructors and he's so mad it doesn't work but he's still second on the podium and i look down at him and i vow i want to fight him forever.

[rockingrobin69]

Wildly

“I have this—dream,” Harry started, mouth so dry he had to stop, swallow a little helplessly. Draco’s grey eyes, expectant: “Never mind.”

“What? Come on, spit it out.”

“Nothing. It’s silly.”

A shove to his shoulder. “You’re silly. And it’s your turn, so, you have to tell me anyway.”

With a lopsided grin and his chest all fluttering, “You’ll laugh.”

“I never laugh. It’s one of the core Malfoy Values: no speaking while chewing, always pace instead of run, and under no circumstances, do not laugh.”

Harry rolled his eyes, feeling lightheaded with it. Draco’s feet tucked under his thigh, leaning against the arm of Harry’s sofa like he belongs there, like there’s no place else he could be. Happiness was a warm trickle running in his belly, this soft thing he was scared to move for fear of disturbing.

Still, breathed in, felt his chest go wide. Made himself open his mouth. “It’s—when we’re older. And we’ve been, erm, together, for a while. Your hair’s gone all white,” (“excuse you!”), “all silver, I mean, and we’re, y’know, old. And we have this garden.”

Braved a look up. Draco’s face was alight, something so tender it robbed Harry of words, of air. Taking his hand, overcome.

“A garden,” Draco said, not a whisper but something close. “That sounds lovely.”

“And we—let it grow wild. With trees and weeds and flowers. And every morning, if the weather’s nice, we go outside and have our tea there.”

Draco’s fingers squeezed his. “We could have a porch with a roof. So we’re not entirely weather-dependant.”

Not saying, there are charms to repel the rain, or, we live in Britain, for crying out loud. Serious, so seriously looking into Harry’s eyes, like he could see it too, like he wanted this.

“And—I don’t know. Maybe a bird feeder or a pond. And we sit very quietly in the mornings and wait for the animals, birds or frogs or squirrels or foxes. And we’re old, and, happy? That’s… it’s silly.”

“You’re silly,” Draco said again, shaking his head with his eyebrows arched and fond. “The silliest creature of all. Harry, this isn’t a dream. We’ll have all this.”

“How—” swallowing, swallowing, “how can you say that. We’ve only been… we’re so new at this. And life can, we know it can.”

Draco shook his head, brought Harry’s hand up for a kiss. “I know,” he said, “because I’ll do whatever it fucking takes, Potter, to give you exactly this. The garden and the birds and the foxes. The life you want, all of it, exactly it. Do you have any idea how rotten I’ll spoil you?”

“Stop—” shoulders up, trying to scramble away from his kisses, but the Draco-attack was relentless and dauntless and climbing all over him on the sofa, nibbling his cheek, the edge of his nose, his eyebrow, “Draco, ha, fuck, stop!”

“Never,” with a tone so certain and so deep Harry believed it immediately, started laughing, wiping his face. “Harry, I will never stop. Get that in your gorgeous little head right now: I will never, ever stop, and I’ll make sure that you’re happy, that you’re so happy, that you’re well and bloody delirious till the end of time, do you hear me?”

“Okay!” yelling, helpless, “okay, okay, I hear you. Now get off, you menace, you’re crushing me and it’s far too hot and.” Taking Draco’s face in his hands, steadying it through the blurriness. “You ridiculous creature,” with so much affection it was battering his insides, it was painful.

“I’m the ridiculous one,” Draco huffed. “You’re sitting here thinking I’ll let you go without a single dream you can name. Harry…”

“Okay,” laughing, still helpless. “I got it. You’ll take care of me.”

“Now he bloody gets it.”

His thumb traced Draco’s jawline, rested against his pink bottom lip. “You’ll give me my garden,” he said carefully.

“With the birdfeeder and the pond.”

“And the tea, and the porch.” And forever, Harry didn’t say.

And forever, Draco smiled. “All of it.”

“Fine. You… fine. I guess I’ll just have to take it and be happy.”

“Now, that sounds like a plan,” Draco smirked, leaning into his palm. “Can we kiss already, or are you still hell-bent on being a sap?”

“I’m the—you perfect, ridiculous creature,” crushing their faces together and shaking with it. “If I recall correctly, now it’s your turn, and I won’t let you try and skip it with slyness and trickery.”

“Trickery,” Draco’s eyes rolled, so close it was only the one grey blob.

Harry couldn’t breathe. “Shut up. Shut up and tell me. You think you’re the only one who… if you’ll make me happy I’ll make you bloody—ecstatic.”

“Always a competition with that man,” but he sighed, a soft thing, and leaned his forehead against Harry’s. “You want to know? You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” Blinked, the movement a gentle tap on Harry’s cheeks. “I have this dream. When we’re older. And we have a garden, and we drink a lot of tea, and you’re so, so, so happy.”

“Come—here,” weakly, “with your fucking, ugh, just kiss me, please,��� and Draco did, fire-wild, roasting hot and just as bright.

Harry didn’t know how to tell him he was, already. Happy. So he kissed him, and kissed him, and hoped it was enough.

(Flufftober day 7. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[laracrofted]

baby, i'm high octane (epilogue)

synopsis: on her 29th birthday, nora wakes up in her new home.

pairings: jake seresin x nora rogers (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, swearing, smut (brief oral sex and shower sex), bradley is an idiot (affectionate), nora and jake are happy and domestic and in love. (wc: 4.4K)

note: i'm saving my sappy note for the end, but if you'd like all of the vibes, listen to daylight before or while reading 🩵

previous chapter | series post

TAGS: @theharddeck @bradshawsbitch @sometimesanalice @callsignspark @hangmanbrainrot @kandierteveilchen @startrekfangirl2233 @lostinwonderland314 @hangmanscoming @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @mlibbydp @bellaireland1981 @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989 @averagereader35 @eli2447 @filmflux @bethbunnyy @kajjaka @roosterbruiser

On the morning of her 29th birthday, Nora is awake before the sun.

At her side, Jake is fast asleep, a pillow crease across his flushed cheek, visible proof of how early it really is because between them, Jake is usually the earlier riser. He’s such a morning person. It’s almost obnoxious. 

During the week, he gets up at the crack of dawn – sometimes before, 4:45 AM sharp – and runs the five miles up the coast to Torrey Pines. He’s back with enough time to kiss a groggy Nora good morning and shower before he has to drive the half hour down to North Island.

It doesn’t make much sense logistically for him to sleep over during the week and drive an hour to and from the base – sometimes more with the evening traffic – but when Nora brought it up to him, watching a movie with him on the couch, tucked into his arms, Jake shrugged it off and said, “It’s worth it to me,” with a sweet kiss on her cheek. 

Weekends are nicer, slower.

On a slow weekend morning – a morning like this one – Jake sleeps in. He does a shorter run with the intention of catching her still in bed after; slipping back under the covers, freshly showered with dripping hair, a clean soap smell to his skin; hoping to convince her to spend another hour in bed with him.

(She never needs much coaxing.)

But now, for once, Nora’s the one who is awake.

She rolls onto her back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling, at the exposed wood beams that slant overhead; listening to the steady rhythm of Jake’s even breaths at her side and the faint clicking sound of the AC switching back on – because Jake runs warm and Nora lived in the city too long to be able to sleep without some sort of background noise  – and outside, the gentle sound of the songbirds, flitting between the branches of the lemon trees in the garden, chirping softly. 

Is there enough bird seed in the feeder? She makes a mental note to check. 

She gives herself a few more minutes to will herself back to sleep before she gets up.

She’s never awake this early. She shouldn’t let it go to waste. 

Nora quietly patters across the room to the dresser and digs blindly around the top drawer for a blue one-piece she knows is in here somewhere. She doesn’t want to pull out her phone and use the flashlight, not when Jake is still sleeping so Nora continues to feel around in the near darkness in the mess of a drawer. 

She’s actually been thinking about clearing it out, moving everything in it to the second drawer so…

So Jake can have his own drawer.

She’s never lived with a boyfriend before – never gotten serious enough with one to get to that stage – and while Jake doesn’t actually live with her, he has started to leave some of his clothes at her place. 

It was unintentional at first. He'd come back from a run and throw his sweat-stained shirt into the hamper out of habit and forget to grab it from the laundry room. And then, Jake asked if Nora minded him leaving a spare linen-button-up in the closet for those nights when Nora wants to put on a little black dress and blow $50 on drinks alone at some beachside wine bar in Del Mar. 

She has been finding his clothes here more and more and always ends up leaving them in the closet or folded on the dresser, but Jake should have a place to leave them, have a place here.

She finally finds the swimsuit and ducks into the bathroom to change.

He’s still asleep when Nora comes back out, chest rising and falling, steady like the sea, arm outstretched into the slight indent in the mattress where Nora used to be. She catches her lip between her teeth, smiling, and slips outside. 

A pre-dawn chill lurks in the late summer air as Nora locks the blue door behind her and heads down to the beach. She’s grateful for her extra layer, a faded NYU sweatshirt that’s almost long enough to cover the hem of the linen shorts Nora pulled on inside. 

She doesn’t see a single person on the sidewalks on her short walk to the beach. It’s quiet and calm, and within a few minutes, Nora kicks off her sandals and sinks her blue-painted toes into the cool sand.

Dropping her bag in the sand, Nora casts off the sweatshirt and shorts and stuffs them into the bag.

She wades waist high into the ocean and curses sharply under her breath.

A sunrise swim might sound very dreamy and all, but goddamn, it’s so cold.

“Fuck,” Nora hisses.

She sucks in a harsh breath, bracing herself, and swims deeper. 

She adjusts to the cold after a few minutes – a few long and cold minutes – and after that, Nora floats on her back, letting the waves rock her closer to the shore and back out again, always keeping an eye out to make sure she doesn’t drift too far away. 

It’s quiet out here and so still, and with sea salt on her lips, Nora lets her mind drift with the tide. 

It’s been a little less than a month since Nora decided to stay in California.

At the end of July, Charlie helped her pack what little Nora had on North Island into a suitcase and a few boxes that ended up in the back of Penny’s garage while Nora went back to New York. She wasn’t there for long. She grabbed cocktails with a few of her friends who still lived there, shipped the rest of her stuff across the country, and hopped on the next flight back to San Diego.

She hardly left the house in the week that followed, busy unpacking her boxes in the cottage-style house, settling in to this next chapter of her life. 

Natasha and Bob were kind of enough to come over and help her with some of the unloading, diligently washing and putting away the meticulously bubble-wrapped kitchen boxes, organizing the built-in shelves in the living room. Nora left Bob in charge of the latter and came back from a coffee run to find the books separated by genre and then alphabetized. She could’ve kissed him. 

Jake and Bradley rallied Javy, Mickey, and Reuben into Nora’s own personal movers, and in a single afternoon, the Daggers carried in and unpacked the couch, bed, and bed frame and didn’t complain once. She had to promise them pizza and beer, but still.

Who needs movers when Nora has Uncle Sam’s finest?

From there, Nora has started to slowly furnish the rest of the house.

She’s been searching online and frequenting the local consignment stores with a very particular vision in mind, a vision of creams and pale blues; white linen and oak; sea shells and cowboy boots and gold.

Last week, Nora picked up the most gorgeous rug for the living room, one that picks up all of the blue accents and makes the whole room look bright and open. It’s perfect. It feels like a coastal dream, like hers. 

It is hers, Nora reminds herself again.

She doesn’t have somewhere to go, somewhere to be a month from now, four months from now. It’s all on her time now. And damn, isn’t that something?

When Nora heads back, the mid-August sky is a patchwork of blues, denim clouds and fading stars and the barest thread of gold creeping over the horizon. 

At home, she quickly rinses off in the shower and pads back into the bedroom. 

She slips back into bed and snuggles into the crook of Jake’s shoulder, resting her head on his outstretched arm again, and Jake mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep and tugs her closer, breath stirring the strands of pale hair at her forehead.

She’s asleep within minutes.

Sunlight pours into the bright room and spills across her back when Nora wakes up again. At a much more reasonable 9 AM. 

Stretching, Nora reaches her arms above her head and extends her legs in front of her, kicking into the sheets. She rubs the sleep from her bleary eyes and looks around the room. She’s alone.

A familiar shirt sits in a crumpled pile on the hardwood, like evidence, unmoved from when Jake cast it aside before bed, but Jake is gone. He even made up his side of the bed, meticulously straightening the sheets and pillows, stretching the wrinkles from the fabric. A military habit that’ll never cease to amuse her. 

Huffing out an amused breath, Nora plucks the shirt from the floor and slips it over her head.

She wanders out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, following the faint sounds of movement in there.

She’s greeted with the sight of his bare back,  ripped muscles and golden skin, rolling and flexing, as Jake moves between the pans on the stove – bacon, from the smell – and the humming espresso machine in the corner of the counter. Charlie gave her that as a housewarming present, and Jake’s made it his mission to make the perfect oat vanilla latte.

He’s humming a country song under his breath, one Nora doesn’t recognize.

It sounds happy.

She quietly crosses the kitchen and wraps her arms around him from behind, setting her cheek against the strong line of his spine, and Jake makes a startled sound like a sleeping cat that’s been unexpectedly patted on the head. She secretly grins. 

“No,” Jake protests immediately, shuffling to shield the breakfast from her view, voice comically close to a whine. "Go back to bed."

She laughs against his back. "No?"

"You heard me," Jake insists. "Get outta here. I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed."

Despite his words, Jake sets one of his hands over hers and intertwines their fingers. He has a spatula in the other hand, still pushing the eggs around the pan.

Grinning, Nora presses a kiss against a freckle on his back, against a dimple of muscle between his shoulder blades.

"I don't need breakfast in bed," Nora says. "Let's eat on the patio. It's beautiful outside."

She uses her most convincing voice, but Jake is stubborn, determined.

He gently argues – as if Nora suggested digging their breakfast from the Hard Deck dumpster – and eventually, Nora gives in with an amused shake of her head. He can win this round.

Mostly because Jake is adorably excited about the idea of bringing her a birthday breakfast in bed.

A few minutes later, Jake comes into the bedroom, balancing an iced latte and a few plates: blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. It's delicious, which isn't a surprise because Nora's come to learn Jake is a damn good cook.

Handy because Nora is only well versed in cocktail and dessert recipes.

When Nora's finished, Jake cleans up the dishes and brushes her hair out of her face. He kisses her cheek, her temple, the corner of her lips with a kind of reverence, like Jake can't stand to kiss her just once.

He ducks his head and murmurs, "Happy birthday, sweetheart," against her shoulder.

She catches his chin and kisses him, as honeyed and sweet as the maple syrup on her lips.

After breakfast, Nora gets a call from Bradley.

He's in the neighborhood – on his way to Penny's where, Bradley later reveals over coffee, is basically Maverick's these days – and wants to swing by and quote, see the birthday girl.

A cool breeze blows in from the coast, smelling like salt brine and sea lavender, so Nora shows Bradley to the stone-lined patio in the back and grabs a sweatshirt from the bedroom. She pulls it on over her linen dress on her way outside.

It’s only when Bradley raises his eyebrows that Nora realizes it’s a Dallas Cowboys fleece, one of Jake’s. 

“Shut up,” Nora says preemptively. 

She hands him a homemade Americano and sits next to him on the bench in the back, crossing her legs under the dress, looking out at the blue horizon of the ocean, a misty grey from the fog that lingers in the mornings.

“Didn’t say anything,” Bradley half-laughs, clearly holding back some joke about her being a born-again Cowboys fan. “Is Hangman here?” 

She shakes her head and sips her coffee through a glass straw.

"He's with Javy. They're going for a run in Point Loma." A run that Nora practically had to push him out the door for because Jake wanted to cancel all of his plans for her birthday. Both sweet and ridiculous. "He'll probably be back in an hour if you wanted to hang around and wait for him."

"Nah, I'm alright. I see him too much already." She gives him a look, and Bradley cracks a smile and knocks his knee against hers, all playfulness. "I'm here to see the birthday girl anyway."

“And drink her coffee.” 

He drops his shoulder in an easygoing shrug, brown eyes twinkling. “It’s good coffee, Rogers.” 

She grins. “Thanks, Bradshaw. You get me anything?” 

"Yeah, but I'll give it to you when I leave so I don't get punched."

He's wearing a cryptic expression, an I know something you don't know grin.

But before Nora can press him further, Bradley expertly changes the subject, distracting her with the latest gossip from the base, including Captain Mitchell all but moving in with Penny.

She still makes it down to San Diego a few times a week to hang out with Jake and see the rest of her friends. She pops down for the occasional night of cheap drinks and pool at the Hard Deck, meets Natasha for brunch at Little Frenchie, or spends the afternoon on Penny's boat with Bradley; but Nora will probably never see them as much as she did before. It's a strange and bittersweet feeling.

She's done with the documentary, and Nora doesn't miss the work, but she does miss seeing them every day.

Bradley drains the last of his coffee and sets the mug on the weathered wood of the bench. Another secondhand find from a neighbor who didn't need it anymore.

As if reading her mind, Bradley says, "We all miss having you on the base, you know? We all got used to having you around. It's not the same without you."

A faint smile as Nora says, "It's kind of weird, isn't it?"

"Don't you get bored out here?"

"So bored sometimes," Nora exhales, laughing, and Bradley chuckles, "but I really feel like I need to be bored right now. It's good for me." This is the longest break Nora has given herself in... well, ever maybe. She needs the space to recharge and breathe and feel like herself again. "It's nice to have some room in my brain to be bored for once. I felt so... scattered before."

"And I like it here," Nora continues. "I like having a place that's mine."

He goes quiet for a long and thoughtful moment, a slight scrunch between his brows.

“I’ve been thinking…” Bradley starts slowly, almost cautiously, testing the weight of the words. “I might want to move out of the apartments on the base and maybe get a house or something, I don’t know.” 

She looks at him, surprised. “You do?”

He chews on his bottom lip. Nods. “Why not? My squadron’s stationed here. Maverick’s probably going to propose to Penny soon. I won’t be leaving San Diego anytime soon, and I’m not getting any younger. I want something that feels more… grounded, you know?” 

She does know.

“Giving up on the bachelor life already, Bradshaw?” 

A cheeky grin pulls at his mouth as Bradley shrugs again. “Well, I don’t know if I’d say that. I should probably start with the house. Take it slow.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” 

“Yeah?” 

An undercurrent of uncertainty leaks into his voice, and Nora softens. 

“Yeah,” Nora reassures. 

A moment passes, settles, and Nora’s lips pull into a slight smirk.

Noticing, Bradley asks, “What?” 

“Don’t go too slow though. You said it yourself. You’re definitely not getting any younger.” 

He makes a face, and Nora can’t hold back a laugh.

“You need to kick Hangman out,” Bradley grumbles, good-natured. “You’ve been spending too much time with him.” 

Another laugh bubbles from her lips.

“He doesn’t even live here.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

She ignores the pointed look Bradley gives her sweatshirt and continues, “And besides, I happen to like spending too much time with him. He’s my boyfriend.” 

She expects him to make a disgusted noise or fake gag like Bradley did when Nora first called Jake her boyfriend in front of him, but Bradley watches her and doesn’t say anything.

Her leg nudges into his. “What?” 

“Nothing. Just…” A shake of his head. “Hangman’s happier. You seem happier. I’m happy for you. It’s nice to see for both of you,” Bradley says sincerely. He drops an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer to him. “I’m glad you’re here, Nora. Glad you stayed.” 

Moisture pricks at the corners of her eyes, but Nora blinks it back and swallows the rising lump in her throat. 

She leans into him. Presses her face into his solid shoulder.

“So am I.” 

On his way out, Bradley gives her a hug and her birthday present.

She sits crosslegged on the couch and slowly pulls the crumpled blue tissue paper out of the gift bag until Nora finds a messily wrapped rectangle. He must’ve wrapped it himself. She smiles to herself and carefully rips the paper away.

It’s a small waterproof camera, complete with a wrist strap so Nora doesn’t have to worry about losing it in the ocean. She can bring it on her next morning swim or the next time that Bradley invites her out on the boat. It’s sweet, so sweet that Nora’s a little confused.

She pulls out her phone.

Nora, 11:24 AM: Thanks for the camera! So sweet of you!

Nora, 11:24 AM: Why’d you think I’d punch you??

Bradley, 11:27 AM: There’s something else in there.

Curious, she pulls the rest of the paper out of the bag until she finds a rolled-up shirt at the very bottom. It’s a deep blue, a soft fabric. She lets it fall open and holds it up to get a good look at the words printed across the front.

“Oh,” Nora says out loud, reading. “You asshole.” 

Nora, 11:32 AM: Proud Navy Girlfriend???

Bradley, 11:33 AM: Do you like it?

Nora, 11:33 AM: What is wrong with you?

Bradley, 11:34 AM: Happy birthday, Proud Navy Girlfriend :) 

She sends him back a picture of her middle finger.

A hour later, Jake comes back, and Nora’s on the phone with Charlie.

He strolls in the front door, headphones around his neck, shirtless and drenched in sweat. Sweat shouldn’t be allowed to look that hot on someone. It should be illegal… or something. His dog tags gleam from the center of his collarbone. His shorts are slung obscenely low on his hips, low enough to reveal the mole there, and admittedly, Nora has only heard every other word out of Charlie’s mouth since Jake entered her line of sight.

“Nora?”

A droplet of sweat runs down his neck and pools in his glistening collarbone.

“Uh huh.” 

“Do you need to go?” 

Jake stretches his arms, folding them over his head, running his long fingers through his damp hair and setting his baseball cap back down, and Nora doesn’t even pretend not to watch the ripple that passes through his abs. 

“I, uh…” 

He catches her, of course, and smirks – a slow and humiliatingly smug smirk – and it’s all Nora can do not to fan herself. She coughs. 

On the other end of the line, Charlie snorts. 

“I’ll let you go. Have a good birthday.” And Charlie adds knowingly, “Tell Jake I say hello.” 

“Love you, bye,” Nora exhales and all but throws the phone across the couch, cheeks burning. “Charlie says hi.” 

“Hi Charlie.” Jake pushes the bill of his cap up with one finger, like the brim of a cowboy hat, and drops a slightly salty kiss onto her lips. His voice softens. “Hi, sweetheart. Did I already say happy birthday?” 

“A few times, yeah.” 

His eyes gleam. “A few? That’s not enough.” 

She bites her lip, grinning, and Jake presses his face into her neck, inhaling the smell of her perfume with a soft groan and also smearing sweat across her cheek. She wrinkles her nose at him and pushes him back by his shoulders.

“You need a shower. You’re all sweaty and gross.” 

“You weren’t lookin’ at me like I’m gross,” Jake drawls. He clambers onto the couch and puts his full body weight – his sweat-covered body weight – on top of her. She makes a high-pitched sound of protest, which quickly dissolves into a laugh, and Jake shakes with laughter. “You’re pretty gross now too, sweetheart.” He puts his lips to her ear, and Nora shivers under him. “Wanna join me and conserve water?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Nora says, which isn’t a no, feeling a little breathless.

Grinning, Jake allows her to push him off the couch.

He ends up on his knees on the blue rug and looks up at her, green eyes glittering.

Jake reaches for her ankles and pulls her to the edge of the couch, begins to slowly push the hem of dress up, one inch at a time.

“What about that shower?” Nora asks, watching as Jake pulls the fabric higher and higher, exposing more and more of her bare thighs, which part slightly for him, almost like a reflex.

“In a minute, sweetheart.” 

He spins his baseball cap backwards – a move that should be douchey and shouldn’t even remotely work for her but infuriatingly, because it’s him, absolutely does – and bends down to kiss the center of her panties.

He licks at her through the fabric, drinking in the soft sounds Nora makes. 

“Jake…” Nora exhales. She knocks his hat from his head, burying her fingers in his damp hair, pulling on the strands. “We should… You shouldn’t…” Her brain isn’t doing its best work right now, and Nora can come up with is, “Guests sit on this couch.” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Jake reassures, voice low and syrupy. “I’ll get it all.” 

"Fuck," Nora breathes.

He slides her panties down to her knees and spreads his tongue over her, and Nora’s head drops back on the couch, hair fanning across the back.

His mouth doesn’t leave her until Nora’s come apart on his tongue. Twice. 

After, Jake hikes her legs around his waist and carries her into the shower, hands spread across her ass, curled in her hair. 

It’s slow and certain as Jake works her open with his fingers and pushes into her from behind, warm water misting on her face, dripping down her front; hot lips pressing lingering kisses along her shoulders and throat. He pulls her dripping hair away from her neck, slowly winding it around his fist, pulling her head to the side to lick a stripe up the side of her neck. 

And all the while, Jake is murmuring in her ear.

Words full of praise and adoration and desire, and Jake smells like coffee and lavender shampoo and sweat and him, so very him, and god, Nora likes this, likes him more than she can put into words; loves this, loves – 

It’s burning, molten hot, full of feelings, pushing through the soil like early spring flowers, and when Jake breaths her name, it sounds like three precious words stitched into one. 

Around noon, Nora curls up in the arm chair near the front window, soaking in the feeling of the sun at her back, casting a shadow in the shape of her on the rug and the knotted floor boards. She loves the light in this room, gleaming, reflecting off the sun catcher that Nora hung in the window, sending a fractured light across the room in the afternoons. 

It’s her favorite spot in the whole house. 

She has a lot of free time now, and in that free time, Nora’s been sitting in this chair and digging through the buried files on her laptop; rereading old screenplays from college; half-written and abandoned drafts that Nora let her own perfectionism shred into something unrecognizable.

She’s been combing through the wreckage, hoping to make something new from the pieces.

And Nora finds herself coming back to the same idea – an ink-stained and half-formed whisper of an idea that’s lived stubbornly in the back of her mind for years now.

Something hopeful about losing your way and finding it again; about losing people and meeting them again; about soulmates, both platonic and romantic; about meeting someone and being absolutely sure.

She is scribbling in her journal when Jake settles into the chair within reach of hers.

He reaches for her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles, a smile dimpling his cheeks, crinkling the corners of her eyes. He’s humming again, something happy, and Nora feels like a firework has gone off inside her ribcage.

She says his name to catch his attention.

And then, Nora says, “I love you.” 

And Jake grins in that easy and self-assured way that Nora’s come to love so much, like Jake knows her, really knows her. 

“I’ve loved you since June,” Jake says easily, so easily it steals the air from her lungs. “Just been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart.” 

And just this once, Nora’s too happy to fight for the last word. She lets him have this one.

A year from now, Nora will be 30.

Not long after, Nora’s first feature film will come out. She’ll go to the very first screening. A small affair for her friends and colleagues and a few fans. She’ll wear a pale blue dress, and Jake will wear a suit and matching tie and pat his pocket the whole night to make sure the ring hasn’t fallen out, his grandmother’s ring.  

That’s later. This is now.

And now, Nora’s 29 and in love and for the first time in a long time, the world doesn’t feel like it’s ending. It feels like it’s just beginning. 

So Nora starts at the beginning. Starts with what she knows.

She opens to a blank page. And writes about love. 

end note: i finished this last month and fell into a bit of writer's block – slash post-creation depression lol – and didn't want to actually edit what i wrote, my bad.

i love nora and jake and everything BIHO has become so much. i love being here with all of you, and i love you for reading it and being so generous with your words and your feedback and your attention. 🩵 i'm also hoping – please, writer's block, i'm begging – to write more in this universe so if you really want to see anything or want to know any of my random post-biho headcanons, let me know!

likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day, and i'd love to hear from you.

[hiskillingjar]

plus sized reader/ren or strade? :3

i mean any of my mc fics could be interpreted with a plus-size reader (as a fat bitch) buttt let's go with some headcanons!

ren 🦊

chubby chaser. fr.

like i'm sorry i 100% believe that ren loves fat bitches, women people more than like any other body demographic

apart from being cum-brained and not being able to see you as anything other than a porn category (at least to begin with), he'd also be your biggest hype man in the world

mostly because he wants to see you dress slutty. short skirts, thigh highs, crop tops. he's all about that

he's also definitely a "thick thighs save lives", "mommy milkers" kind of guy. unfortunately.

i wish that making ren rancid would make him less hot but. alas.

wouldn't necessarily verge into feeder territory (which isn't for me lol), but he likes to cook and would play provider in that way ^_^

with a chubby masc mc, he definitely likes that too. he's more attracted to femininity, yeah, but he likes big boys! strong, big, cozy………..

and you know he's pretty little…short and slender…and you're so big and warm and and and…

:)

law🥀

law would also like a chubby partner :)

they'd like the contrast between them (willowy and skinny and tall) and a chubby mc (especially if they were shorter than them too)

other than that, they're just. normal and not insane.

totally normal and uncomplicated reasons to like a bigger partner.

sorry insane people. law is normal <3

strade 🔨

fat bitch 4 fat bitch

i mean strade doesn't really care, he likes who he likes

but he's a red-blooded cis bisexual man. he likes a big chest, big ass, big hips because he HAS TASTE

you're getting that bed rocking either way. just don't break those slats (...which. i haven't done. ever.)

strade isn't much of a cook, so you'd be doing that. hope you like doing that! (i do. often. let me be your housewife. ahem)

i wrote this lmao

and hey, you have some cushion (for pushin'), so you can definitely take a few more hits, punches, and kicks than most, riiiiight?

and he's strong enough to lug you around, anyway, so it's all good for him. he wins every time ^_^

and he doesn't mind stretchmarks either. likes em, in fact! (and will welcome any opportunity to add to them too :3)