#feederism fanfiction

[plumperific]

Dessert - feedism/belly kink fic, Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Hilda x Marianne

Publishing my second kink fic two and a half years later. It's Fire Emblem: Three Houses again, though I anticipate this fandom is not quite as popular as it was in this space 2 years ago.

This one sat in my drafts for about as long as my last kink fic was published and I never did anything with it because I thought it was too similar to my first kink fic. But then I opened it recently, realized it was almost finished, and decided I didn't care. The feedism kink community needs more sapphic content and I am here to deliver! I only hope it is decent lol.

Anyway, I'm hoping to be a little more active on this blog and in the kink writing space in the future, so please read and comment, read my first fic, and send me asks/messages! I'd like to get more comfortable in the kink writing community.

Also, follow me on Twitter! Not sure how long I'll stay there since it's a cesspool of a website, but I'm there for now! https://twitter.com/plumperific

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Twenty-Nine: Feedism - Minho/Felix

Tags: Weight gain, accidental weight gain, stuffing, hand feeding, forgetting to eat

AO3 Link

When Minho had first met Felix, he was so tiny. Chan had introduced him to their friend group when they had met through the foreign exchange program and everyone was instantly drawn to him. His personality made him seem smaller than he was sometimes because he was just so sweet and gentle. His deep voice was the most shocking thing about him, but it somehow suited him despite his fair appearance. 

At some point along the way, Minho and Felix became roommates. They had gotten close over the last year of knowing each other and when their friend group was trying to decide who would room with who the next year, Minho called dibs on Felix. He refused to admit that maybe his desire to room with the younger was fueled by the fact that he was beginning to develop feelings for him. 

One of the first things Minho noticed was that Felix was not good at remembering to eat. He would get up late in the morning and scramble to get to his classes on time, forgoing breakfast. From that point he had back to back classes where he often was not able to grab lunch, and then when dinner came, there were days where he would get too lost in homework or playing video games to eat dinner. It made Minho’s protective instincts flare up. Felix was so kind and caring to everyone around him, but how many people actually knew that he didn’t know how to take care of himself. It made Minho sad to see someone he cared about so much not eating like Felix was.

From that point on, Minho decided to take it upon himself to make sure that Felix ate during the day. His course load was not as heavy as Felix’s so he had more time in the day to cook, and he was also a little more well off financially, so he could afford good food. So he started cooking for Felix. 

It started with breakfast. The first time he did it, Felix walked into the kitchen to say good morning, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Then, as the smell of the breakfast Minho had cooked surrounded him, he paused and his eyes widened. “Oh my goodness! You made breakfast?” he asked, the volume of his voice raising with his excitement. Minho’s cheeks warmed at the adorable expression on Felix’s face and he nodded. 

“I did. I noticed you hadn’t been feeding yourself like an adult so I decided to take it into my own hands,” he said, trying to keep his own excitement out of his voice. “Sit down. Eat. And you better like it.” 

Felix nodded obediently and sat down. “I’m sure I will! I’ve heard that your cooking is really good, hyung.” 

Minho was sure that his ears were red now. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it's great.” He grabbed Felix a plate and gathered up a decent sized serving, one that was probably too big for someone with Felix’s appetite. Minho was bad at judging portion sizes, okay? 

Felix’s eyes immediately lit up as he sat the plate down. Minho imagined if he were a puppy he would be wagging his tail. “Thank you so much, hyung, this looks amazing,” he exclaimed. Minho couldn’t hold back his smile as he began to dig in. He hummed around the chopsticks as he took the first few bites and his eyes sparkled. He looked like this was his first time tasting food. The sight made something stir in Minho’s stomach and he found himself blushing even more. 

“This really is good, everyone was right,” Felix groaned. He shoved another bite into his mouth and his cheeks puffed out. Minho wanted to squish them. 

“I’m glad. Make sure nothing goes to waste,” he said, a bit teasingly. 

He hadn’t expected Felix to take him seriously. About ¾ of the way through, he started to struggle. He let out little huffs in between each bite and his small hand went to his stomach. Minho’s gaze followed the motion and his eyes widened when he saw a slight swell underneath Felix’s t-shirt. 

He wet his lips. Oh . Why did that make him feel lightheaded? He could probably tell Felix that he didn’t actually have to eat everything, but for some reason, he couldn’t. He wanted to see it. 

Felix finished his breakfast a few minutes before he had to leave. As he stood up from the table, Minho noticed how he was breathing more heavily and how his cheeks were a little red. “That was really good, hyung. Thank you so much.” He went over to Minho and pressed a kiss to his cheek and Minho’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He swallowed thickly and nodded. He hoped Felix couldn’t read him that well. 

“Good, I’ll start making you breakfast from now on,” Minho told him decidedly. 

Except, he couldn’t just leave it at breakfast. That night he made Felix dinner, and it ended the same way. He gave Felix a bit too much and Felix finished every last bite of it because he didn’t want to waste any of Minho’s food. Minho didn’t even tell him that he had to do that. He just watched helplessly, almost too distracted to eat his own food, as Felix devoured his meal like it would be his last. And that feeling in his stomach continued to grow and spread throughout his body. 

From there, he also began to make lunch for Felix on days when he wouldn’t have a chance to eat it. After a few weeks, Felix was already looking happier and healthier. He had more energy each day and his sunshiney glow had a new brightness to it. Minho felt increasingly proud as each day went on and Felix continued to enjoy the food he prepared for him. 

About a month later was when Minho started to notice a real change. 

His crush on Felix had only grown because how could it not? And Felix was becoming more physically affectionate with him. He kissed his cheek whenever he left the house, snuggled up against him whenever they watched a movie or studied together, and pulled him into hugs whenever he could. Minho was beyond happy and wouldn’t trade this for the world, even if his heart was on the verge of exploding. 

The extra physical affection was how he first noticed the changes Felix’s body was going through. When they had met initially, Felix was all lean muscle and sharp edges. He felt almost fragile when he wrapped his arms around Minho. But that was different now. When Minho wrapped his arms around him now, he feld solid. Instead of being met directly with sharp points and the outline of Felix’s ribs through his clothes, there was softness . His cheeks were softer too and now puffed out even when he wasn’t eating. It made his cherubic personality shine even brighter. 

Honestly, Minho’s mind was reeling. Felix was gaining weight. Off of his cooking. Sweet Felix was getting soft because he was taking care of him well and because he enjoyed the meals he cooked for him. Every time Minho’s hands landed on his softening sides or Felix’s chubby cheek came to rest on his shoulder, he burned with want. At first he felt bad about it because why was he enjoying watching his friend, the boy he was falling in love with, get chubby? 

But Felix had never looked happier. So what if the room felt hot whenever he raised his arms to grab something up high and his shirt lifted to reveal a sliver of his softening tummy? So what if whenever he was snacking on something and crumbs got on his lips Minho wanted to lick them off? That was also a newer development. Breakfast and dinner every day turned into three meals, and soon after snacking was added into the mix. Maybe Minho snuck a couple of snacks into his bag and started setting stuff onto his desk? So what?

So what if sometimes he caught himself daydreaming about feeding Felix from his own hand, having him lick his fingers clean, squeezing his tummy, cooing about how well he’d been filling out…

He’d tried to hold back his thoughts at first, he really had. But sometimes it felt like Felix was trying to make him lose it. Sometimes he would pout at Minho and shyly ask for more, or he would rub the slight roundness of his tummy and groan about how full he was. It was driving Minho mad. 

Especially now. They had just finished a nice big dinner and Felix made brownies for dessert afterwards. Minho had been increasing how much food he made because Felix had started to finish the portion sizes he gave him with ease. There was no actual need to make more food, but Minho couldn’t resist the idea of watching him fill out more and maybe even get a little chubby. 

They were on the couch getting ready to watch a movie. The unfinished tray of brownies sat on the table along with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of soda. Minho was already full enough, but Felix had been snacking absentmindedly lately, and what was a movie without snacks? The problem was, Felix’s clothes were getting tighter and Minho could see the curve of his tummy through his t-shirt. It was obvious he was full but he still reached for another brownie as the opening credits played. 

“Sometimes I think about learning to bake other things, but then I bake brownies and remember why I always do,” Felix said with a light chuckle. Minho was only half listening, too focused on the way Felix licked the crumbs and chocolate off his fingers. 

“Mm, yeah,” he responded, clearing his throat. “You do make the best brownies.” 

Felix smiled brightly and curled into his side. “Thank you. By the way, are you alright, hyung? You just seem a little out of it.” 

Minho nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a little tired I think. But I want to keep watching this with you.” 

Felix hummed. “Okay. As long as everything’s alright.” He planted a kiss on Minho’s cheek and his body heated up from his head to his toes. 

He tried to focus on the movie from that point on, but it was difficult. Periodically, Felix reached for the popcorn, eating like he was still hungry even though there was no way . Minho had never seen him eat this much before.

By the middle of the movie, the curve of his tummy was even more prominent and he had made it through multiple brownies and over half the bowl of popcorn. He’d had at least one cup of soda, but Minho couldn’t focus enough to remember if he’d had more. Minho had barely touched anything. 

It was clear that Felix was feeling the effects of his gluttony. When he leaned over to grab another handful of popcorn, he winced slightly and sat back with an “oof.” He rested his hand on the crest of his tummy and as he popped another few pieces of the popcorn into his mouth, Minho noticed his shallow breathing. Oh fuck . He was full enough that he was having trouble breathing. His stomach stirred again, and by now Minho knew exactly what the feeling was. Arousal. And shit, he was so aroused, so fucking horny. He had been all night. His mind was clouded with want. 

“Yongbok-ah–I–” Minho gulped and his eyes went to Felix’s stuffed tummy. His hands, now both on his belly, looked softer too. “Are you–” 

“What is it, hyung?” Felix asked, tilting his head at him. Minho inhaled slowly. 

“I–fuck. I don’t know how to say this. It’s so fucking strange but I–I can’t hold back.” 

“Is this about me getting chubby, hyung?” 

It was like someone had dunked Minho in ice water. His breath caught in his throat and he stared at Felix with wide eyes. “Wh-what?” he choked out. 

Felix glanced down. “I–I’ve noticed. I mean…well first I noticed I was gaining a little weight. A–A little more than just like ‘normal’ weight,” he said, making air quotes around the word “normal.” “At first I was like ah shit, hyung’s been feeding me so good I didn’t even notice. I thought about trying to cut back but you just kept…feeding me. And you always looked so excited. And honestly I loved eating your food and I liked–I liked how it felt to be really full.” He had the audacity to blush while Minho was trying his best not to die on the spot. What? 

“But I–I didn’t know what you’d think so I was still worried. But I noticed how you looked at me whenever I ate so I started trying to eat more and…I just kinda let go tonight. I wanted to see your reaction,” he explained. “So I…I hope I read it right.” 

“Oh fuck,” Minho responded eloquently. “Fuck. You’re right, yeah. I–I’m sorry, I know I should’ve talked to you but I…I’ve liked you for a long time, and I…I don’t know, I just liked being able to take care of you. I liked seeing the evidence that I was taking care of you. And you were so…you look so good like this, Yongbok.” 

Felix was silent and for a moment Minho worried that this was it. He had officially fucked up and Felix would get up and leave and never come back. But instead of doing that, he wrapped his hand around the back of Minho’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Minho’s eyes widened as Felix tilted his head and parted his lips so that he could lick against his mouth, requesting access. Minho gladly granted it and at the same time wrapped his arms around Felix. He tasted sweet and a little salty, a combination of the chocolate and salt from the popcorn. He couldn’t get enough of it. 

Felix moaned against his mouth and moved so that he could straddle his lap. Minho’s breath hitched when he felt the curve of Felix’s belly brush against his own stomach. He moved one of his hands to his side and squeezed the soft love handles that were beginning to develop there. Felix whimpered and Minho drank down his sounds. Fuck, his thighs felt so soft too. He was soft everywhere now and Minho needed to feel every inch of his skin. 

When Felix pulled away to breathe, he was smiling, and Minho couldn’t help but smile back. “So you like me too?” 

“Of course, dummy!” Felix exclaimed, swatting at his chest. “I’ve liked you this whole time! You’re just dense.” 

“I’ve liked you this whole time too,” Minho said with a playful grin. Felix rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever. But hey um…now that…all our secrets are out in the open. Do you uh…think you could feed me the rest of the brownies? I’m not sure I can actually finish them, but I could sure try…” All the blood in Minho’s body rushed to his cock and he inhaled sharply. Oh . 

“Yeah,” he breathed. He wet his lips. “I can do that.” He ran his hand over the swell of Felix’s belly. He felt him shudder under his touch. 

“Okay. L-let me grab them.” Felix scooted off his lap and grabbed the tray with the remainder of the brownies. Minho took it from him and set it on the arm of the couch so Felix could climb back into his lap. 

“Tell me if it's too much,” Minho said, already reaching for the first brownie.  

“I will,” Felix said with a gentle nod. 

Minho held the brownie to his mouth, but instead of taking a bite, Felix took the whole thing in his mouth. His lips wrapped around Minho’s fingertips and he shivered. His cock twitched beneath his ass and arousal pooled in the pit of his stomach as Felix swallowed the brownie, his throat bobbing with the action. His stomach gurgled and his cheeks turned red. 

Felix huffed and Minho felt dizzy. “Fuck,” he muttered as he picked up the second brownie. Felix ate this one in halves and his stomach seemed to rumble with each swallow. 

“Can–ah–can you maybe, rub my tummy? ‘S starting to hurt a bit,” Felix said, but he was immediately opening his mouth for the next brownie. Minho settled his free hand on the top of his little gut and began to rub circles over it. “ Hnng , yes, that’s good.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

Felix shook his head. “No, keep–hmph–keep going,” he said breathlessly. The fact that he was breathless and he hadn’t even done anything made Minho’s skin tingle. He licked his lips. 

He grabbed the next brownie and Felix shoved this one into his mouth whole too, but he took longer to finish it. Crumbs fell from his lips on his shirt but he didn’t seem to care. Minho didn’t either. He found it cute that he was starting to get a little messy. 

There were only a couple left, but Felix began to struggle more and more with each bite. Minho continued rubbing the swell of his tummy, sparks traveling up his arm every time he felt it gurgle. It was packed tight and warm against his palm. It was amazing that Felix had eaten this much. 

“Oh–shit, I’m so fucking full ,” Felix groaned before opening his mouth for the next brownie. His eyes had a light haze over them and there was a light sheen of sweat covering his skin. There was one more brownie left. 

“You’re doing so good,” Minho registered himself saying. “Just one more. Gonna be good for hyung and finish it all, Yongbok-ah?” 

Felix moaned and nodded eagerly. “I can,” he answered after he swallowed. His tummy felt heavy against Minho and it seemed to weigh even more as he picked up the last brownie. Felix whimpered softly as the rich chocolatey dessert filled his mouth once more and Minho soothed his hand over his stomach. 

“That’s it. Almost done. You can do it. You’re so good. Look so pretty, all stuffed up like this.” Felix whined but the sound was muffled by the remainder of the brownie in his mouth. Minho lifted the hand he had been using to feed him and grabbed his full cheeks, squeezing them slightly. “Come on, chew it up. There you go.” Felix gulped down the last bit and his chest heaved as he tried to take a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, oh my gosh. Minho-hyung,” he panted. “Look at me, I look–fuck I look so big.” 

Minho cupped his tummy with both hands and took a deep breath. “You really do. Shit. That’s so fucking hot, Lix,” he breathed. 

“I still can’t believe you–mmm, right there—I still can’t believe you like me like this,” Felix muttered. He shifted his hips and bit and Minho groaned. 

“Yeah I–people do like to say I’m weird,” he said with a chuckle. “But you really just look so cute. And so sexy. Can’t believe you can eat that much. Barely two months ago you could eat hardly anything.” 

“I know,” Felix said, shaking his head in disbelief. “But you’ve taken care of me so well.” He grinned and rolled his hips down a bit. Minho gasped. “You gonna keep taking care of me, hyung? Make me all nice and big for you? I know you want that.” 

Minho shuddered and swallowed thickly. “Fuck, yeah. I want that.” Felix giggled again and leaned farther into Minho like the menace he was. 

“Good. I wanna see what you can do to me.”

[hoffstrap-yuri]

Bad Idea, Right?

ao3 // masterlist

*Summary: Peter Strahm goes over to Det. Hoffman's house to get more information about the Jigsaw case. Should be simple enough, right?

*Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

*Content/Tags: Feeding Kink, PWP, Feedee Peter Strahm, Feeder Mark Hoffman

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

Strahm used his free hand to massage his temples. He blinked a couple of times to wet his eyes once more and got out of his car. He grabbed his bag and slung his suit jacket over his forearm before closing the door. He walked over to the door before him, hesitating to turn the knob before getting over his trepidation.

“You know.” A man said, stepping out of the kitchen and leaned against the wall frame. He crossed his arms in front of him and raised an eyebrow, “Most guests knock before entering someone’s house.”

“Sorry. Thought I could come in.” The other man, slightly taller, replied.

“Have a seat in here, Agent Strahm.” He made a gesture towards the kitchen table and Strahm walked over to the little set-up. At most the table was only ever meant to seat two people, but it was clear that the vinyl on one chair was a little more worn than the other. Strahm could see why a man who lived alone would choose to sit there. Clear sight line to the entryway. If he craned his head up just so, then he could see into the lot behind the house. The other seat didn’t offer nearly this level of security and while he was the guest in the Detective’s home, he sat at the less used seat. Something was cooking on the stove behind Strahm that reminded Strahm of home. Sitting in his nonna’s kitchen on Sunday’s after church, trying to get a sample of the spaghetti sauce before she caught him and hit the back of his hand with a wooden spoon. He smiled to himself as the other man put the lid back on whatever it was he was cooking, bolognese if Strahm remembered correctly.

“You didn’t have to cook for me.” Strahm cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

“I know, but I wanted to. You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in months, before you even came here.” Hoffman sat down in his preferred seat

“What makes you think I haven’t had a good meal?” Strahm was borderline offended, not because he was wrong but because of how easy the other man seemed to read him.

“For a man your age you’re rather thin. Though you have some bulk in your center you’re not big by any means.” Hoffman leaned into the table, putting an elbow up as he shared a gaze with Agent Strahm. There seemed to be an implication behind his movements that Hoffman meant that Strahm wasn’t as big as he was. He seemed to answer Strahm’s puzzled look with a slight smirk that exuded confidence. Almost… flirtatious? “Probably from a couple years of fast food.”

“Truly your detective powers of perception are impeccable.” Strahm remarked, rather dryly

“Then I’m right? That’s all that matters to me.”

“That’s not…” Strahm started but shook his head, “Anyway, I came here to talk about the case.”

“Right.” Hoffman crossed his legs under the table and Strahm pulled the file from his bag. He went to pin up the details onto the wall as a force of habit, but then realized that he wasn’t in his little office with a pin board. After this gaff, he spread the files across the table hoping that Hoffman didn’t notice him. “Here’s what we know so far.”

“By we you mean…” Hoffman’s thought trailed off only for Strahm to answer

“Lindsay and I.”

“Of course.”

“And we were hoping if there was any supplemental information you could provide us about Agent Kerry or the jigsaw murders at all, now would be a good time…”

“I do actually.” Hoffman got up from the table and brought his files over, leaving them in a nice stack to the side of Strahm’s flurry of papers. “This one looks the most promising. Similar modus operandi, similar tape…”

“Awesome.” Strahm took the file from Hoffman’s hands and thumbed through the papers. “And you were sure this murder was committed by Amanda Young and not John Kramer?”

“That’s what the evidence suggests.”

“Then it’s not confirmed?”

“It’s still an open case, agent.” Hoffman replied

“Okay.” Strahm took a deep breath and looked closer over another file Hoffman brought to him

“Dinner’s ready as well.” Hoffman commented, towering over Strahm and leaning against the chair

“Okay.” Strahm replied absentmindedly as Hoffman dished himself up a plate. Hoffman looked the FBI agent up and down while the agent’s eyes remained glued to the papers before him. Hoffman had finished eating and cleaned up his plate before Strahm moved on to the next case. He walked over to the table and cleaned up Strahm’s pile, leaving out what Strahm had pointed out early as the most pertinent information.

“You know, agent. It’s really rude of you to come over and not eat anything after your host has made something for you.”

Strahm knew the second the words slipped out that that was the beginning of the end for him, “I mean I didn’t ask you to make anything for me.” He could hear his grandmother shouting at him from the beyond. Hoffman gave him a look that Strahm tried to dismiss at the time, but knew he’d more than upset the other man.

“The food’s getting cold.” Hoffman replied, pulling Strahm close by his necktie. “Now I would suggest, you start eating.”

“Or what?” Strahm scoffed

“I’ll just feed you myself.”

“I’m not a toddler, I can feed myself just fine, thank you.” Strahm cleaned up his space on the table fully and went over to the stove. He picked up the plate that Hoffman had left next to the pot of sauce then grabbed a tongs worth of noodles before carefully ladling on the sauce. The texture was thinner than the sauce his grandmother made, but it still had a familiar smell to it. He only covered maybe half the plate and brought his meal back to the table. “There, can we talk about the case now?”

“At least tell me whether it’s to your liking, Agent.” Hoffman rested his head on his knuckles and waited for Strahm to take a bite. Strahm rolled his eyes and brought a forkful up to his mouth. He paused for a second before eventually taking a bite.

“Could use a couple seconds in the microwave.” Strahm muttered under his breath. Hoffman took the plate from out under him and popped it into his microwave. Anger was rising in Strahm’s voice as he told Hoffman, “You know, I am a grown man. I could’ve done it myself, Detective.”

“And have you take 20 minutes to do that? Fat chance.” Hoffman crossed his arms as he waited for the familiar ding of the appliance. He brought the plate back over to the agent and sat across from him once more. “Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Strahm replied quickly in between a bite. He wanted to mouth off a bit more, something about Hoffman’s people-pleasing nature that drove Strahm up the wall… but the food was pretty damn good. Hoffman looked over his shoulder back at the range before getting up once more and grabbing the plate of garlic bread to ring back to the table.

“Eat.” Hoffman said. There was no intonation change that made it sound like a question, but it definitely came off as a command. Strahm scowled before taking a piece of bread off the plate and shoving it into his mouth. He chewed at it while keeping his face even-tempered but enjoyed the garlic flavor. He looked over the piece with fondness, trying to remember the last time he had good quality garlic bread and not just as a side to some crappy Italian him and Lindsey would pick-up during their investigations. Hoffman’s hand got in Strahm’s face, snapping his attention back to the meal at hand. “At this rate you’ll be finished with dinner by bedtime.”

“So?” Strahm scoffed

“Hurry it up.” Hoffman got up from his chair, shoved a piece of garlic bread into Strahm’s mouth and placed his hand underneath Strahm’s jaw to guide the other man’s pace. Strahm tried to free himself from Hoffman’s grasp but his mouth was clamped in between Hoffman’s thumb and forefinger. Hoffman’s gaze lied square on Strahm’s face. A heavy sigh left Strahm’s nostrils after he finished the bread. Without hesitation, Hoffman brought a giant forkful of the spaghetti up to Strahm’s lips and nudged it into his mouth. “That’s a good boy.” Strahm’s whole body went weak for a second at those words. Something about Hoffman’s low voice saying that to him made him want to eat. Would Hoffman’s praise continue in that sultry voice if he did eat more? Before he could finish his bite another fork was brought up to Strahm’s mouth. His lips didn’t budge for a second, but after a growl let slip from Hoffman’s throat, Strahm slurped up the noodles. “You can go faster.”

“No, I really can’t.” Strahm rolled his eyes

“You can, and you will.” Hoffman replied back before shoving more pasta into Strahm’s mouth. “See that plate’s gone. That wasn’t hard.”

“You say that like I’m going to eat more.” Strahm groaned a little bit at the thought of being stuffed to the brim. Hoffman simply took his plate and refilled it with the same pasta to sauce ratio that Strahm had previously. Strahm looked up at him with incredulous eyes, but ate as the fork came back up to his mouth.

“And you still eat anyway.” Hoffman hummed as Strahm worked himself back up into a decent pace once more and ate the second plate of pasta. He let a heavy sigh escape from his lips and leaned back in his seat before quietly muttering,

“No more…”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Hoffman feigned ignorance. He heard the other man just fine, and Strahm knew that but he had to repeat himself.

“I’m too full.” Strahm huffed

“Fine.” Hoffman replied before snaking a hand over Strahm’s shoulder and across his chest. Strahm made a soft grunt as the hand kept moving further south, resting on Strahm’s distended stomach

“What are you…” Strahm looked at Hoffman’s hand before moaning as his finger tips sunk slowly into the his overstuffed gut. His moan was interrupted by a slight burp before his hand covered his mouth. Strahm felt himself grow red in the face as Hoffman’s other hand worked in tandem to rub the bulge that spilled over his belt.

“How’s that?” Hoffman asked, leaning against Strahm’s ear as his fingers dug deeper. Rather than answer with words, another groan escaped from his mouth. “You’re never like this at work, Peter. Maybe I could get something done if I just threw some food in front of you and fawned over how well behaved you are.”

“Fat fucking…” Strahm started to say, getting cut off by some noise his body decided to release at that moment, “Fat fucking chance.”

“What would your partner think of you? Seeing you make a pig of yourself at your desk. She’d probably notice the way I’d slip a dozen donuts in front of you and their disappearance before lunch…” Hoffman whispered the copiously sweet nothings into Strahm’s ear as a hand slipped its way between Strahm’s legs. “You’ve been fighting it up until this point. Trying to eat as little as you can while your partner’s around so you don’t have to think about your lack of shame when it comes to sucking down food. Don’t fight it when I’m around. Give into me, Agent Strahm.”

Strahm could only respond with his teeth pressing into his lips, threatening to tear the skin open from the pressure. Hoffman’s lips were dangerously close to Strahm’s cheek, he wanted that connection so badly. Hoffman knew this, and so he kept it from Strahm as his hands worked the belt off Strahm’s waist. Next came the fly of Strahm’s pants which Hoffman unzipped, carefully palming at the erection that was hiding under Strahm’s clothes. Hoffman gave the other man a couple of quick pumps with his hand before fully committing to jerking him off. Strahm’s dick sat squarely in Hoffman’s hand for a moment before he focused on giving the Agent long strokes along the length. Strahm grunted and his foot jerked up, hitting one of the legs of the table. Hoffman could only make a small ‘tisk’ noise as Strahm tried to keep himself composed while the other man got him off. Hoffman’s free hand trailed up Strahm’s shirt before resting just below Strahm’s pecs. A breath of hot air rolled along Strahm’s neck and he jolted as he came onto the underside of Hoffman’s dining room table. As he felt himself coming down from his stuffed high, he heard Hoffman whisper over his head some iteration of “Good boy” over and over. He zipped himself back up, careful not to get the bottom of his work shirt caught in the fly. However, just before he could relax, Hoffman pulled the chair out from under Strahm and sent the other man falling to the floor. He cursed loudly and looked up at Hoffman.

“You made a mess. Now clean it.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do? Lick it off like I’m some kind of dog?”

“No.” Hoffman shook his head, “Just some pathetic pig.” Hoffman looked at the semen left on his thumb, and brought it up to his lips before letting the appendage dip fully into his mouth. After that was clear, he made a show of licking the cum left on his palm off from the center up. Strahm leaned forward a bit before he felt the press of Hoffman’s foot on his back, forcing him back down onto all fours. Strahm growled in response but got up to the table and dipped his tongue into his mess. He gagged a little bit, wondering how Hoffman had managed to make the substance look so alluring as he swallowed it off his hand. He felt Hoffman’s big toe digging deeper into his back as he refused to lick the cum off, so he slowly began to lap at it. “You really don’t have any shame do you, Agent?”

“Shut up.” He turned his head back to argue, only to realize that there was no winning in this scenario. He turned back around and continued licking up his semen for Hoffman’s pleasure. When most of the white was gone, and could easily be cleaned up with a rag, Hoffman helped Strahm back onto the chair. His hands gravitated back to Strahm’s stomach and finally gave Strahm the ever elusive peck on the cheek he’d been expecting during their whole liaison. Strahm’s hands, which had been oddly still up until this point, forced Hoffman’s lips over to meet his and they kissed for a moment. Hoffman’s hands clutched at the collar of Strahm’s shirt and pulled him up onto his feet before guiding Strahm up against a wall. His shoulder blade hit the drywall, definitely leaving a mark. Hoffman growled into their kiss before pulling himself off. “Gave up already, fucker?”

“No. No. Just you’ve probably worked off all those calories I packed into you.” Hoffman laughed lowly, his lips meeting with Strahm’s neck. “Think you can fit in some dessert?” Strahm mulled the offer over for a second before shaking his head. “Shame. I make a damn good lobster tail.” He pulled Strahm by the collar of his shirt and brought him to his bedroom. Maybe one more round and Strahm would have the room for something more.

[misschimotosuwa-blog]

Study Date Confession

Genre: fluff

Characters: Iruma-kun, Reader (fem), Opera, Sullivan, Alli (Gluttonous Feeder Ring)

T/W: none

A/N: wow, fanfic writing is fun, I see why y'all do it. I wrote this for some comfy feelings tonight, and it worked ☺️💕🥺 hope someone out there besides me enjoys this haha

Still the same Iruma I fell for ❤️

You’ve had a crush on Iruma for about 3 months now

No, not because he has been “standing out” or because he is the Grandson of the famous demon Sullivan — but because he’s shown and taught you things you’ve never known or realized before in the Netherworld

You’ve started studying together quite frequently — but you desire more — yet you’re still too shy to do anything about it

Today will be another study date with Iruma — this time, at his house

You finished up with class, then met up with him outside of The Royal One.

You then proceeded to WALK to his house??  You wonder why you would not fly?  Does he want more time alone with you?? 

You blush hard as you continue the walk to his house.

You finally arrive

Wow his house is huge

You begin to show a concerned look on your face

Iruma notices, and reaches out his hand to you

“It’s alright (Y/N)” Iruma smiled and stretched out his hand to you.  Ba-dump.  Your heart began to race as you took his hand, and squeezed it tight as you continued through the gates of the Sullivan mansion. 

An androgynous looking demon with cat ears and red hair opened the door for you.  “Welcome home Iruma — and a welcome to you miss (Y/N)”. “Thanks Opera” Iruma gestured you through first, and Opera whispered something into Iruma’s ear that made him turn bright red as he rushed in right after you.  

“Welcome home my darling Iruma!!” a tall elderly demon rushed to hug Iruma and spun him around.  He set Iruma down “my goodness me, is this (Y/N), the demoness you’ve been spending all of your precious time with??  Ooooh how beautiful!  Isn’t my Grandson just the GREATEST?!” “Grandpa!!!!” Opera grabbed Sullivan by the collar “we’ll be heading out for errands now”.  “Awww but I wanna see this momentous occasion in my Grandson’s liiiiife…. Bye bye my sweet Iruma…..” The front door closed.

“Well, should we get to studying?” Iruma smiled awkwardly as your heart began to race even faster and harder. (We’re all alone now, oh my gosh oh my gosh… ok.. be cool… just be cool).  “Yes, yes.. let’s do just that!” You stammered.  

You and Iruma headed to his room

Geez it was enormous!

His bed was so luxurious and you were so tempted to jump right in

Iruma sat on his bed and opened his text book “so what should we study first?” He smiled at you.  But today, you just couldn’t pay attention.  Your heart just wouldn’t calm down.  I mean, you’re in the boy you like’s room!!  “I-I.. I need to use the restroom…” (what am I saying?!) You headed out the door to search for the restroom.  

Meanwhile Iruma’s POV

Iruma flopped over onto his bed “…I wonder what’s up with (Y/N)… she’s been silent all day… did I upset her?”.  Alli popped out of the glutoness feeder ring “my, I wonder?”  “Huhh???” “It’s obvious, my dear little Iru.” “Wh..what’s obvious.” “You really don’t get it do you?” Alli face-palmed “the poor girl is in love.” “In Love?  With who?”  Alli sighed “with YOU!”.  “Huh?!  With me?!?!  There’s no way.”  “You really are clueless.  Well, what’re you gonna do about it, small fry?”  “Me?  I.. I don’t know�� I’ve never had a girl be in love with me before.. I’ve never even been on a date.. I was always too busy working back in the human realm.  I’m not even sure I’ve ever had a crush on a girl — there just wasn’t any time.  Well, what do you think I should do, Alli?”  “Well, that depends on you.  Do you fancy her too, hmm?”  Iruma put his hand on his chin and began to think.  He began to picture all of the times he’s spent with you, all of the laughs, smiles — everything.  And for some reason… began to smile… a whole-hearted genuine smile that radiated from his entire being.  You could almost see beams of light surrounding him.  “Well, I’ve never really experienced any romantic feelings before.. but I do know that (Y/N) is very special to me… maybe I’ll try and see how I feel when she gets back.”  

The door creaked open

“H-hey Iruma-kun, sorry I took a bit” you smiled very awkwardly and hesitantly sat down beside Iruma.  Ba-dump!  Just after you had left to get your heart rate in check, it sky rocketed almost immediately being in such close proximity to such a beautiful angel.  “It’s alright (Y/N) no worries!”  Iruma smiled his usual cheerful smile.  “Shall we continue our studies?”  You nodded as you admired his big beautiful eyes and adorable smile.  Iruma began reading the textbook passage, but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t focus on anything other than his soft and soothing voice.  “(Y/N)……(Y/N)…… (Y/N)?”  You finally snapped out of it.  “Y-yes, Iruma-kun?”  He closed his text book.  “We don’t have to study tonight, I think we’re pretty much caught- up on the curriculum by how often we’ve been studying recently.  May I ask what’s bothering you?  I’d really hate it if I hurt or offended you in any way.”  You shook your head and hands frantically “No, no! You’ve got it all wrong!”  “I have?  Well, that’s a relief”. Iruma reached out and put his right hand gently on your head and gazed at you in a sweet and heartfelt manner “mind telling me what’s really going on?  I’d like to help if I can.”  Out of instinct you took his hand that was on your head and placed it against your cheek.  “I-I….. I love you Iruma-kun!  I can’t keep that from you any longer!”  Your eyes widened, and you immediately curled into a shy ball hiding from whatever happens next. 

You were now surrounded in your own thoughts, insecurities, and darkness.  (What will Iruma say?  What will he do?  Is our friendship now over??). 

Light peeked in through your pit of self-doubt and darkness.  Iruma swooped you up into a princess carry and nuzzled your face.  “I guess I didn’t realize until now… but, (Y/N), I love you too”.  Iruma stared at you with such an honest and earnest gaze, even though you’ve been burned by many demon boys before.. this time… it truly seemed different.  “Oh, Iruma…” you smiled back so tenderly.  You two connected foreheads and gazed at the beautiful Netherworld moonlight beaming through his balcony window.  You ran your fingers through his soft, feathery blue hair.  “Oh how I love you Iruma… can I ever say it enough?”  Iruma’s knees buckled and his face turned red… the two of you toppled over.  You giggled profusely and pet his head “still the same Iruma I fell for”.  You smiled at each other, and you proceeded to hug while still toppled over.  You laid atop Iruma as he gently pet your head, and the two of you drifted into a soft and blissful sleep.

A highschool study date turned into a sleepover... Huh. I wonder how Sullivan and Opera reacted?

[chubbiekookie]

Would anyone be interested in commissions from me? I'm just trying to find a way to make a little extra money cause college sucks and is taking everything and I can't really find a good paying job while taking 17 credits :/

I would do commissions for both fanfictions and art! I'd of course have some rules but it could basically be anything anyone wanted <3

[dzthenerd490]

File: The Shape of Water

SCP#: ADQ

Code Name: The Underwater Couple

Object Class: Euclid/ Thaumiel

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ADQ-Husband and SCP-ADQ-Wife are to never be separated as doing so will instigate aggravation from both. As such, they are contained as Site-AF and given both a 20x20 meter normal house with all the normal rooms, furniture, entertainment, and appliances for a house made for a married couple. Though beside the house is a 30x30 meter pool that is 40 meters deep, making it large enough for both of them to swim freely in. Both anomalies rarely leave and prefer to be left alone unless asking for help, meaning containment breach should not be a worry.

Instead, the front door of the house which is the entrance to the containment cell has been outfitted with magnetic locks to keep anyone who isn't Foundation Staff and the SCP-ADQ instances from entering. In the event of a containment breach a metal dome will retract from the walls and cover the front door ensuring both SCP-ADQ instances will be safe.

Every month the pool must be cleaned by a 6 crew Foundation staff with several Foundation cleaning pool drones. While cleaning the water the Foundation staff are to collect all the slime within the water and other bits such as dead skin and sweat from SCP-ADQ-Husband and SCP-ADQ-Wife's body. These samples are harvested for both testing purposes as well as emergency medical samples due to their anomalous properties.

Description: SCP-ADQ-Husband is an amphibious humanoid anomaly that doesn't seem to match any known species of interest. However, he does have traces of Species of Interest: Atlanteans DNA in his blood yet lacks the intelligence of the others. Furthermore, he does not resemble most common Atlanteans that the Foundation is familiar with. Whether SCP-ADQ-Husband is a mutant species of Atlantean that survived the purge of Atlantis during the First War is yet to be properly determined.

SCP-ADQ-Husband like SCP-ADQ-Wife is unable to talk verbally but is intelligent enough to understand conversation and understand the intentions of those he interacts with. He does have sharp claws and teeth for defense but what's most anomalous is his ability to heal himself and all those that he comes into physical contact with. Healing of SCP-ADQ-Husband is always with 100% accuracy and restoration of the body with 0% chance of negative effects for either SCP-ADQ-Husband or the one he has healed.

SCP-ADQ-Wife appears to be a Human-Atlantean Hybrid where her main anomalous property is that she has gills on the sides of her neck. She also possesses abnormal regenerative abilities even by Atlantean standards. However, other than that there is nothing particularly anomalous about her. In fact, the most anomalous thing about her is how easy it is to mistake her for a normal human who simply is unable to talk.

Both instances were discovered in 1962 after escaping the custody of a U.S. Government facility that imprisoned SCP-ADQ-Husband in order to use his anomalous healing abilities to assist in the Space Race. SCP-ADQ-Wife, who at the time didn't know she was a hybrid, along with a few friends saved SCP-ADQ-Husband and released him into the ocean, but not before killing the director of the project to utilize SCP-ADQ-Husband. After barely escaping SCP-ADQ-Husband healed SCP-ADQ-Wife and pulled her into the water. By doing this her anomalous properties were revealed, revealing they were able to live happily together. Though it was a short-lived moment of freedom as Mobile Task Force Gamma-6 "Deep Feeders" found them a week later.

All others involved in SCP-ADQ's original imprisonment and liberation were found. It should be noted this isn't the first time the U.S. government has kept anomalies out of Foundation custody as such those involved in his imprisonment were processed as D Class and immediately used to test the readiness of Foundation armor against Anomalies. As for those that were involved in their liberation, they were offered a position at the Foundation under Protocol “Sole Survivor”, but all refused and were instead amnestied and given Foundation compensation money.

SCP-ADQ-Husband and Wife mostly prefer to keep to themselves and though they do help heal the injured they come across they don't like socializing too much unless needed. As such the Anomalous Employment Division has agreed to leave them alone. Furthermore, it has been confirmed that now that they are together the scales, slime, sweat, and dead skin have even greater healing properties that seem to be improving as time goes on. Just the smallest bit is able to heal a person's whole body now. It is for this reason that SCP-ADQ as a whole is labeled as both Euclid due to its unknown origin and Thaumiel due to its beneficial properties.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[butcherlarry]

Exercise Fic Recs 11

Back to Superbat fanfic for this week!  Well, almost all Superbat.  There is one Twobats (Burharvey?) fic included, “Dad’s New Boyfriend” by TheClamBeforetheStorm.  It’s not completed, but it’s been fun to read!  The first fic is an update of one I’m currently following as well (I think I’ve recced it before, still so good!).  The other three are Supebat :D

dead man’s party by TheResurrectionist

Dad’s New Boyfriend by TheClamBeforetheStorm

the difference between stone and skin (is immaterial) by vectacular

hear the future whisper by Anonymous

Mind if I cut in? by Mawiish

The weather is getting warmer, and this weekend has been so nice.  I went out and touched grass twice this week!  There’s a nice little park close to where I live, so I walked around there yesterday.  I was able to get some pictures of robins!  Unfortunately, Batman was nowhere to be seen 😔

The coffee shop I go to updated there seasonal lattes for Spring!  I got a Hibiscus Morning latte to go with my pastry and breakfast sandwich.  Very tasty!

It’s getting more and more green at the arboretum!

Trees and bushes are starting to bud!!

I took the long, rocky path today!  I like how the rocks make the path look like it has steps.

I just thought this pool of water looked neat.

Lots of birds at the bird watch station!  A blue jay, female rose-breasted grosbeak (I think???), robin (again, no Batman around), female red-bellied woodpecker, and male dark-eyed junco.

There was also a white tailed deer hanging around too???  We both looked at each other in shock for a bit, because we surprised each other.  There are fences around this area of the arboretum to keep the deer out because they’ll eat all the pretty flowers.  I have no idea how this guy got in here, but it’s not the first time I’ve seen them in this area of the arboretum.  

[brad-bakshi-loves-bugs]

ok ok but let brad keep isopods

SEE I WAS DEBATING ON IT because I also have isopods as pets HOWEVER. the reason brad keeps bugs is primarily because he loves keeping dangerous predators he gets to watch hunt (and also because he can relate to them etc etc), but everyone loves isopods and they're completely harmless. if he was going to have any detritivores, he would definitely go for millipedes first, especially the larger african species such as archispirostreptus gigas and spiropoeus fischeri (I have both, hence how I know he'd like them too LOL), since at least they have a toxic defense mechanism. but I still dont think brad would see any use in keeping bugs that dont hunt their own food unless he's using them to feed to other bugs that do (such as his roaches and beetles that he breeds as feeders), because that defeats his purpose for keeping them. and, unlike what casual keepers on social media will tell you, isopods make pretty terrible feeders because their exoskeleton is too hard and they have very little protein for their size 😭

however, just because brad wouldn't personally choose isopods doesn't mean they won't be added to his collection in wafwaf's future 👀 this IS a slow burn after all, and david's gonna get to keep his own bugs eventually too! it'll just take. you know. like a billion more chapters until we reach that point LOL

[beiasluv]

2k celebration ❋

Wowe. 2k??? Haven’t been much interactive since the beginning of time but I wanna thank all y’all lovely people – and bots – who followed me for my professional yapping journey. 🫶🫶

just a little thank you I’m gonna list all of my f1 favs – and writers!

please do respect the writers, as some works are not for minors; I’ll mark them with *

– lando norris 4

you came, you called @dilemmaontwolegs

a birkin bag for yn @xhopelesslyromanticx

*dangerous, tained, and flawed @prettyfastcars

toothbrush @works-of-fanfiction

– charles leclerc 16

right timing @moneymasnn

a house, a home @forteafy

– logan sargeant 2

pros and cons @gentlyweeps-world

where the fun begins @disneyprincemuke

– carlos sainz 55

hard yet to pass @leclsrc

a house, a home @forteafy

the one you need @multiversesweets

mine @pucksandpower

*do you want it? @leclsrc

– oscar piastri 81

wedding panic @jackpiastri

uh oh @uluvjay

no red flags @struggling-with-drivers

be brave @scuderiahoney

dirty streets @lipringlrh

– misc.

when we were young @shaarlslec SV5

meet cute with the guy on the bus @sebscore MS47

sweet like grenadine @scuderiahoney DR3

my man isn’t creepy! @rene-spade CS55 DR3 OP81 PG10

– fav blogs ✶

@multiversesweets (little leclerccc)

@planetpiastri (number one OP&LS stan🙏)

@disneyprincemuke (frat logan got me on hold 😩)

@lorarri (buzzfeed. that’s it 🤭)

@leclsrc (you already know…my favorite carlos writer)

@prettyfastcars (mob lando 👹👹)

@itaipava (og drivers blurb 🙏)

@sebscore (gen z driver + jenson crush og)

@norrizzandpia (mclaren girlies feeder 😩)

@norrisleclercf1

@scuderiahoney

@povlnfour

@pucksandpower

@httpiastri

spread some love and take care!! 😘👹

[divinities-hymns]

Somehow I managed to finish that Leshycat fanfiction I started yesterday already, so here it is

Myosotis looked towards the bishop once more, he looked like a feral animal, nothing like a god should. He’s dressed in long rags, caked with mud and blood that dripped down from a bandage wrapped around his eyes. At least his murals got his green shade and antlers correct. The sight was reminiscent from when Narinder first joined, another god defeated by their leaders blade. Another god reduced to a weak and pathetic bottom feeder. “I’ll do my best my leader,” He says with a smile.

[nightdragonvigil]

Call of Duty (Modern Warfare) Fanfiction Real???

Okay, hear me out. I don't play COD nor do I have gaming consoles. But I have friends, and I picked up on COD from them. Eventually, I found the wiki. I've been swearing that I'd put something on this Tumblr and I'm proud to put this on here as my first post. I believe that the game and the storyline had potential. I particularly love what I can get from the bits of storyline on the wiki, and I decided to make my own spinoff of it. If Activision happens to find this post, and you guys don't like it, I don't mind taking it down. I can keep my writing and my ideas to myself. But here it is! I'm particularly proud of this. CW For: - Graphic descriptions of blood and violence - Giant snakes - Disturbing imagery - Descriptions of implied political strife https://docs.google.com/document/d/1dcSNTRhqMKxH6hK8weLsPVh4Nlr7VLz0DDrRTa9nH1I/edit?usp=sharing I hope you enjoy! Some things some users might not pick up on: - The Naga is basically the Hydra of South Asia. It comes from Thailand. They are depicted as snakes with one or multiple heads, or with human upper bodies and snake lower bodies. -"Mudcat" is the colloquial name for a species of fish called the Flathead Catfish. They are bottom feeders and, therefore, do not taste very good. -Yes, you can eat snakes.

[st-danger]

Intro!

Hi! I'm Saint. 30's, they/them. This band ruined my life in '22 and brought me back to fanfiction which hadn't been a Thing for me since high school. I'm really enjoying being back in it. You can check my AO3 page right here.

I'm the asshole who's tried to make the name Aeon a thing, and you can read that manifesto here. One time I got too high and turned straight for a second and now I'm an Imperator/Dew truther.

My ask box is always open, for anon as well, and you are more than welcome to drop a request- please, please note that I have around ~300 unfilled requests. I tend to just open and scroll and fill whatever I see. If I haven't filled yours, it isn't an intentional slight, and if you drop one, it might take a while to get to.

I am completely open and nonjudgemental towards kinks, and even if it's something I've never written before, I'm pretty willing to put my best foot forward and give it a shot. At this point I've written stuff from feet to diapers, and I think kink exploration is great, so don't be shy. Dubcon, noncon, other weird stuff, LFG. With that said,

Will not write: Age regression, sounding, emeto/scat, food/feederism, x reader, giving characters health issues/disorders/disabilities, anything regarding menstruation, pregnancy (though breeding as a concept is fine). Het usually grosses me out, but I'll consider that case by case. Somno is case by case depending on how it's used.

I read tarot and will do random one card draws for people. If you want something in depth, I offer dummy cheap three card and more involved readings on my Etsy, if you're interested. I will always keep my prices low on that because I think tarot is helpful and don't want cost to be a barrier. Otherwise, stay tuned and wait for the sign up posts to show up! My ask box is always open for questions regarding the process of reading tarot and individual card questions, and questions about astrology.

I don't bite hard unless you ask nicely. /suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

[winterlament]

Funeral March

Hello The Secret History fanbase… I offer you my first TSH fanfiction. this is more an exercise in character than anything, I want to be able to write them all accurately before doing much else of substance — and I really just wanted to write the Greek class being the weirdos that they are. go easy on me but I hope this is at the very least enjoyable.

not canon compliant, Bunny is alive and they’re all friends.

Word Count: 3k

Read on AO3 or below the cut! ☕️ ☆ 🕯️

Early morning. Tall blades of unkempt grass glimmered with the shine of dew drops; wildflowers sprouted in lush patches; and damp stepping stones littered the yard. The tang of wet, damp earth lingered heavy and humid; the air thick but clean. The snow had melted in the past week, and the Greek class was enjoying early spring at Francis’ country home. The sun had barely risen above the horizon to fill the yard with light when the smell of something sickly, putrid like an overripe fruit, became abundant.

“Oh, no!” Francis cried, stopping in his tracks and glancing towards the ground. He was in shirtsleeves, and his pants were rolled up to his knees. His pale feet were bare and wet with dew, disrupting the grass where he stood, and drops of water were rolling off him and catching on the hair on his legs. Charles stood next to him, peering down to see what had gotten Francis so upset.

“Look at that, Charles,” he said, pointing to a small clump of feathers and red. “Poor thing.”

Along with rain showers, vibrant greenery, and blooms of flowers, Vermont spring brought songbirds back from a winter away. Francis’ countryside property had found itself full of small birds, singing and chirping away at all hours (starting early, a bit before sunrise, tending to wake Bunny, who decided to wake everyone else in his tired annoyance). Dashes of blue jays and sparrows and warblers in the trees, daring near the ground only in search of food.

“Oh, what a shame! What are we to do?”

“Leave it,” Charles said dismissively. “Why should we have to do anything at all?”

“Charles, look at it.”

The blond crouched down in the grass, blades thick and full, to examine the mass of feathers and, upon closer inspection, gore.

A round, cream-colored bird lay with its wings spread in its full span. Its torn open chest painted the feathers on its small body close to the shade of a cardinal — red; visceral and bloody, vermillion, wine, raw meat. Sternum to ribcage cracked open like a pomegranate, seeds torn out, thrown back on the ground to let it sink into the earth. Its neck, Charles noticed, was turned at an unnatural angle, a bite mark deep in the flesh of its throat. Viscous, sticky liquid surrounded the small corpse, still and fresh. The smell was something awful, sickening but sweet, iron. It made Charles’ stomach clench the closer he got.

Reaching for a stick, Charles ignored Francis’ wailing (‘Oh, no, Charles, don’t,’ ‘I can’t look,’ ‘Oh, forget about it,’ something in French) and poked at the bird from a distance, turning it over and around. Getting a better look at it, the bird was a dove. A white mourning dove, a dove whose coos had likely woken Bunny up in the morning.

Francis’ house had not only been a springtime retreat for birds, but also for small but vicious predators – cats, raccoons, things with claws – one of which had seemingly gotten its paws and teeth sunk into the little dove nestled in a cushion of wet grass and stirred up dirt. Despite the still warm blood on its feathers, the unnatural tilt of its neck, and its exposed and empty abdomen, it looked peaceful, as all doves should be.

Francis’ eyebrows were scrunched together in a worried, pained sort of expression. “It was probably one of those damned cats you’ve been feeding. Look at this mess,” he said. “How horrible. Little thing only wanted some seeds–” tapping his foot – “I should’ve refilled the feeder yesterday. It must’ve been hungry. Oh, we’ve got to get rid of it. It’s dreadful.”

He pulled a pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket.

Unable to rip his eyes away from the mauled remains of the gentle creature, Charles stood in his grass-stained pants, propping himself up on one knee and pushing himself up. The stick, now bloody, was still clutched in his fist.

“The cat was hungry too.”

“What?” Francis asked, wiping his eye.

“The cat that got it,” Charles repeated. “It was hungry too.”

“Oh. Well, yes… but look at it. Brutalized. Careless. A horrible way to go.”

Charles paused, examining the bird again. The curve of its wings, body sprawled on the ground, looking as if it fell right from the sky and into the jowls of a predator with sharp, sharp teeth. Predestined. Inescapable. Fate.

In a way, it was beautiful. In its death, it had fallen into a patch of daisies, fresh and new, stained a color they would never naturally grow. Spring, the season of new life, of thriving, had brought death with it, too. For in the cycle of life and death, there is a profound sense of continuity, repeating and repeating and repeating. Die. Feed. Birth. And though brutal, ripped to shreds, the dove was peaceful – nothing could last forever; nothing that was mortal could ever escape the sharp teeth of death, be it a dove caught in the claws of a feral cat, or something more. In time, it would sink into earth, and feed the plants. Become a plant itself. Grow the seeds it was hungry for. Continuous. To live forever was to die, repeat the cycle. Become again.

However, as beautiful as it may have been, it was clearly distressing to Francis, who was now through with half a cigarette.

“It wasn’t malicious, Francis. Whatever it may have been,” Charles began, “it didn’t know any better. It was hungry. Everything needs to eat, that’s just how it goes. Besides –” he took Francis’ hand in his– “it’ll feed the flowers you like so much. Fertilizer?” He offered a smile.

“Right, sure, but… can we at least, God, I don’t know. Bury it? It’s horrible to look at, and it deserves a resting place, not so out in the open.” Francis said.

–

Across the yard, back at the house, Bunny sat in a porch chair, rosy-cheeked in the morning sun and coffee cup in hand, not paying the slightest attention to Francis and Charles in the grass. He had the radio set up on the table next to him, and he was listening to some awful war song (no one was quite sure if it was on a CD of his or if he had found a military radio station) that was far too loud for the hour. The large, French-style double doors were wide open, propped with books as door stops, and the sun sank into pools of light on the dark floorboards. In the house, Camilla and Henry walked back and forth across the foyer, visible every so often – carrying things, maybe books, Henry following Camilla’s lead.

Charles yelled something and waved his arms, trying to get anyone’s attention, unsuccessfully. He yelled again, this time Bunny’s name, holding up the bloodied stick and waving it around. The blood and the look on Francis’ face seemed to be alarming.

Bunny sprung up from his chair on the porch and ran through the yard — still in his robe and pajama bottoms — his mess of unruly blond hair not fully brushed and his not fully awake body tumbling over itself. He motioned for the others, and Camilla followed him, running towards the commotion with curlers in her hair; the gentle glow of the early morning sun made her face look soft but bare, and the gray of her eyes matched the sky so perfectly they nearly disappeared into the horizon. Shortly after, Richard appeared in shirtsleeves, struggling with pulling his shoes on, his eyes (and limbs) still heavy with sleep. And Henry followed behind them, fully dressed, like a disinterested father caring for his ill-behaved children, trying to control them before anyone had had any breakfast – they’re getting fussy, and he hadn’t had his coffee yet.

Bunny and Camilla came to a grinding halt, nearly crashing into each other upon Bunny’s sudden stop, Richard close behind them. Taking his time to reach the rest, Henry strolled through the grass, admiring the flowers. Charles and Francis pointed at the ground in unison.

They stood in a circle, heads together, mess of bird between their feet.

“Oh, that’s horrible.” Camilla was the first to speak. Her voice was layered with sleep, dark like tinted glass. “How on Earth could that have happened?”

It was, evidently, unnerving. Francis explained that he thought it was a cat, and Camilla cocked her head but was shushed by Charles before she could question him. Richard tried to hide his expression, one of disgust, but his nose scrunched and his eyebrows turned up. Bunny appeared similar, hiding it less; holding his nose closed with his fingers. Henry seemed indifferent, staring at the wounded bird with a lack of emotion.

“I want to bury it. I don’t like the way it looks,” Francis said.

“It’s just a bird,” Richard interjects. “What’s so wrong about it?”

“It’s eyes are open. It’s looking at me.”

“Sure is.” Bunny agreed. His voice was nasally, more than normal, nose plugged by pointer and middle. “Nasty sight. Damn awful smell, too. We should bury it, yes, yes. Hold it a proper funeral.”

“A funeral?” Camilla asked.

“Well, sure. Can’t just bury it all unceremoniously, can we? If we’re burying it, we might as well make a show of it. None of that Catholic bullshit. A real funeral! Like the Greeks! We’ll mourn, wear all black, pray to the gods. And Henry can dig the hole.”

–

Before Henry had much of a say about digging the grave, he stood in the garden, shovel in hand – expressionless, digging a dove-sized hole under a large willow tree next to the lake. He was wearing a black pin-stripe English suit, per Bunny’s request, and was narrowly avoiding getting dirt on his freshly polished Oxfords.

Bunny, Francis, Charles, and Richard had also found themselves in black suits – pieces of Charles’ suit oversized and borrowed from Bunny, as he doesn’t wear much black, nor did he plan on attending a funeral over the weekend. Francis wore his suit over a thin, starchy white shirt with turnback cuffs, his flame-colored hair slicked back and pince-nez glimmering in the (now afternoon) sun. Richard’s was ill-fitting, tight on the elbows, and had quite a few loose threads, adorned with a little golden lapel pin, shaped like the top of an Ionic-style column. They each held flowers in their hands, taken from the garden, that Camilla and Francis had tied together with strands of twine and ribbon. Charles still held the red-stained stick.

To Henry’s left stood Bunny, ordering him to dig the hole deeper and refusing to help. He had a black sheet thrown over his shoulder, a mockery of some sort of toga. Camilla stood to Henry’s right in a knee-length black dress with sheer black stockings underneath. She held the bird in her arms, wrapped in an old curtain Francis had found in the attic, laid in a small brown box, a makeshift coffin. Flowers lay around its body, and the smell of rot had been overtaken with the smell of a strong, floral perfume — stinging cherry blossom and bitter notes of bergamot. Bunny used his pocket square to wipe the sweat off of his, and then Henry’s, brow.

The smell of freshly turned dirt, woody and sweet. The air had warmed and cleared as the early morning turned to afternoon, the dew on the grass had evaporated, and the sun reflected off the lake in a blinding, star-like way. A dense, large willow shaded the funeral part; lush curtains of green cascading off of thin branches surrounded them and swayed with the breeze. The hushing sound of wind ruffling leaves was cut through by a funeral march – Chopin’s Piano Sonata No. 2, playing on the radio sitting on the tree roots. The glow of the sun hit the backs of Bunny, Henry, and Camilla, encasing the three of them in shadow haloed in gold, like a group of God’s finest angels, harbingers of death, or vengeful creatures sent by Hades up from the underworld. Henry mumbled something unintelligible to Camilla and held the shovel to his side. With that, Bunny began:

“Lady and gentlemen, we’re gathered here today in honor of this here dove. Tragically, our little friend was taken from us much too soon. Even though it woke me up this morning, no bird deserves a fate this bad, no, no. I’m sure it had a family, a bird-wife and chicks, you know, it’s spring and all. Real sad it ended up like this, all torn apart… Anyway, enough lamenting, right? This isn’t some pious, uptight mass, no, no Hail Mary’s. This is a celebration of this bird’s life! Sending it off.

“O Hermes, messenger of the gods, we ask you to guide the soul of our dearly departed dove safely across the river of Styx. Grant passage to the underworld of Hades, and let it find peace in the Elysian Fields, or wherever doves go,” Bunny said, talking with his hands and looking to the sky, like a preacher.

He rambled on, choosing his words carefully, about the underworld and the afterlife and how even sweet little birds had to meet their makers. When he finished, he wiped away a pretend tear, and Francis clapped, everyone else following his lead. Henry stifled a smile, covering his hand with his sleeve.

Thank yous were said to Bunny, and he bowed like he was a talk show host walking off stage – see you next time, folks! – and Camilla stepped forward in his place, box in hand, standing at the head of the grave plot and glancing down into the earth.

“Put him in, little lady.” Bunny motioned with his head towards her and put a hand on the small of her back.

She nodded, crouched, and lowered the box into the hole. The dove’s feathers ruffled in the breeze, its eyes still open and glossy as it and its box-casket were placed into the earth. Camilla placed it down gently, careful not to disturb it, as if she might’ve woken it up if she jostled it around. Henry offered his hand, and she took it in hers. He pulled her up, looking like he could’ve swept her up into a press lift as if they were dancing pas de deux. When she stood, her stockings and shoes were caked with damp dirt.

“Say goodbye, gentlemen. François, any final words?” Bunny asked.

Francis stepped to the head of the plot and threw his bouquet on top of the bird. “Au revoir, mon petit amie. Live forever, and let the flowers grow on top of this awful mess of dirt.”

Following his lead, Richard threw in his bundle of wildflowers, followed by Charles’, as well as the stick that had been stained with blood. Camilla unclasped her necklace – small, gold – and threw it in unceremoniously.

Henry, who had disappeared through the flower-tossing service, had returned, a bottle of wine in hand. He stood next to Camilla, his jaw clenched and his eyes glossy behind his glasses. With a pop, the cork, too, found itself in the shallow grave. The scent of grape, aged and spiced, poured into the earth, on top of the dove, and in the box. When the bottle neared being half empty, Francis ushered him to stop, and he did – taking quite a large swig of it himself – and handed it over.

The bottle was passed around between them as Henry shoveled the dirt back onto the grave. Bunny made reception small talk about “fond memories” of the dove while Camilla sat in the grass, tying pieces of twine around a bundle of sticks and flowers.

“Did we offer enough, do you think?” Charles asked, wrapping his arm around Francis’ shoulder.

“Sure,” said Francis, the bottle clenched in hand. “I’m just glad I can’t see it anymore.” He tilted the bottle up and finished it off.

“I’m sure Bunny’s speech was more than enough,” said Henry, calm and unbothered. “We gave it a thorough send-off. Returned it to the earth. The first dove to have a real funeral like this, I’d say. If the gods choose to care about a dove, this will be the one. Besides, I’m sure your flowers will look wonderful, Francis.” He threw another large pile of dirt into the grave, twirled the shovel in his fingers, and patted the earth down. “Factum est. Camilla, would you hand me that?”

He towered over her, encasing her in his shadow, and she handed over her stick-and-twine gravemarker. It was delicately made, but the details were clumsy: knots too big and in the wrong places, flowers lacking petals, an uneven bow in the front. Henry told her it was beautiful and stuck it into packed-down earth at the head of the burial site.

The six of them stood around the grave, now marked and permanent in Francis’ yard. The dirt was the color of freshly brewed tea, ornate and flowery, shaded by the dense overhang of weeping leaves and branches. In true fashion of spring, the sun had found itself behind a blanket of gray, surrounded by curls of hazy, dark shades, accompanied by the air marginally warming.

“You know,” Bunny began, slapping Francis on the back (startling him to a jump). “Every funeral I’ve ever been to, there’s been food after. A luncheon. And –” checking his watch – “It’s almost noon; that’s lunchtime. I’m starving, gentlemen.” Before any of them could answer, Bunny was already strolling towards the house – no, the driveway.

“I think it’s going to rain,” Richard cautioned, looking at the overcast gray of the clouds narrowly closing in.

“We better hurry up, then!” Bunny yelled as he took off towards the cars – Francis’, Henry’s. “Got to beat the weather, yes, yes!”

Glances were exchanged; the twins shrugged in unison, and took off after him. Gracefully, they moved their legs identically, and their feet kicked up dirt in unison. Charles yelled for Bunny to wait, and Camilla ran beside him, giggling. Francis took Richard by the hand, running along with him, and Henry followed behind the lot of them, patting his pockets to make sure he had his wallet.

[rainbowcomet]

Rainbow Comet: Gay, Fantasy, Feeder Fanfiction

I'm posting excerpts here from my gay, full-length, fantasy romance novel featuring feedism!

I will be posting excerpts here, and you can read more for free on my website, Rainbowcomet.com! I posted the first chapter and will be posting more shortly. The fic is complete.

Introduction:

Boreas (Brett to humans) is ready to ascend the throne, and that means BIG changes to his body. After all, his weight reflects his people's love and respect, and he's the only fae prince who can take this throne, with his ever increasing girth.

Flint (Flynn to humans) has a secret, and his wife is ready to let him go free to have his secret desires for men and fat men at that. When he gets a request from an old penpal to come bodyguard him while ascending to the throne, he accepts but never expects his old friend to be the embodiment of his wildest, most far-fetched fantasies. Between homophobic norms, a crazy culture that feeds their princes, and families coming betwen them, will the two have a happy ending? Or is the likelihood of their love coming true like wishing on a rainbow comet; almost impossible?

Trigger warnings: Probably everything. Heavy discussions of r*pe, homophobia, mind control, brainwashing. The characters have heavy pasts. Some consent is dubious due to one being an incubus who can read desire. Read at your own risk!

Rainbow Comet: Chapter 1:

"Boreas Everfrost the Third is just Hugely F***ing fat."

A foot steps out of the portal, clothed in fine, pearlescent leather. A finely shaped foot, followed by a leg. The calf, first, then the thigh. My breath catches, and light beams forward, so bright I almost can’t see straight, as Brett steps fully out of the portal. And there he is. Boreas. Still so beautiful I can’t even think straight. His hair has a blue sheen I’m not sure it had before, and it effervesces in rainbow, shimmering as he moves. His face is so handsome, and it lights up in a grin as he sees me, and my whole body goes tight as I take him in. He’s wearing a light blue tunic and pants that are made of pearlescent material, and a fine belt covered in tiny jewels that look to be diamonds. They encrust his collar and cuffs and the tops of his boots as well. He looks like one big sparkling diamond, and he puts his big arms out in welcome as he sees me, expecting to pull me in close. He always was affectionate.

But I just stand there, rooted to the spot, as the rainbow portal keeps swirling behind him, slowly starting to dissipate as I stay there, my feet locked in place, unable to move, my jaw slack and frozen at the same time as I take him in from head to toe, as his body jiggles as he comes closer.

He’s the same, he really is. It’s in the face, in the fine features and the gorgeous body but…

I can see why no one knew how to describe him, and also hate them for not warning me, for not allowing me to prepare.

I’m trying hard not to laugh, more from nervousness at my body’s reaction and fear of being given away in my deepest secrets than because his form is funny.

His handsome face hesitates, and he looks from me to the portal, and I hate myself as he lowers his hands, looking lost and somewhat disappointed.

Move, Flynn. Move.

But he’s a walking wet dream. There’s no way I’m going to survive this.

I’ve never seen anything like this. Outside of my dreams. And he surpasses even those.

He’s radiant, he’s effervescent, he’s…so big. He’s—

He looks at the portal, which is shrinking, shakes his head and waves a hand. A big hand. It grows again, swirling with rainbow light. He clears his throat. “Are you ready? We’d better go.” His cheeks are flushing and I hate that I’ve made him self conscious.

I flinch, then shake my head. I’m glad I didn’t touch his body, even if he did find it offensive. I couldn’t have controlled myself if I did.

The fae emissary looks from him to me keenly, then gets a little smile.

Then he steps into the portal. “I’ll be waiting for you, majesty, and getting things ready for the banquet.”

I put a hand to my face, hiding the obvious embarrassment there, and step forward. Reluctantly, I put a hand out for Brett.

He looks down at it, pouting. “You don’t have to touch me if you don’t want to. I heard it, that you don’t want to.”

“What else did you hear?” I ask sharply.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m told I have very selective hearing. I don’t hear what people don’t want heard, usually.”

“Good,” I say.

He ducks his head slightly, and I hate myself a little more inside for making him feel that way. But I just…can’t.

I’m still reacting. I’m still processing. Someone should have warned me. Someone should have told me, customs be damned.

But they couldn’t have known what I’m like. My particular fantasies…

If they did, they would have told me. They would have had to.

I can’t stand this. How can I take this job, now? How can I just pretend things are normal between us?

My wings feel like they are going to burst out. The only thing that dampens the extreme energy ready to burst out of me, looking at his handsome face, is the shame I see emanating at the edges of his expression, as he puts a hand to his waist and looks down at himself.

“Ah…well, it might take you a while to adjust to my kingliness.” He frowns. “You will learn more about our customs at the banquet. I assure you, this is my sacrifice to the universe.” He turns to the portal, waving for me to go in. “I will ensure you travel safely, and then follow after.” He gives me a somewhat hesitant, sad smile. “It is good to see you, Flynn.”

I just walk forward, rictus straight, wishing I had a good fucking response for him.

Hoping he doesn’t hear my swearing, like that little mushroom person did.

Because as I walk into the portal, still dazed from arousal, the only thought echoing in my mind is that this can’t be possible, this can’t be real.

Because Boreas Everfrost the third is just hugely fucking fat.

[best-fictional-band-poll]

THIS IS THE OLD SUBMISSIONS POST. UP TO DATE SUBMISSIONS CAN BE FOUND HERE

Sorted alphabetically by band. Please click through to original post to see full list. IF IT'S NOT ON THE LIST, PLEASE SUBMIT IT. NO BAND IS TOO NICHE. Multiple bands from the same media are permitted.

Putting this under the cut because it's getting too long!

0-9

4*town - Turning Red

A

About Gardens - ROGUEMAKER

The Ark - I Was Born For This

ABXY - Splatoon

Arno van Eyck - Disco Elysium

B

The Band With Rocks In It - Discworld

The Beets - Doug

The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton - The Mountain Goats

The Bettys - Phineas and Ferb

Black Stones (BLAST) - NANA

The Blues Brothers - The Blues Brothers

Bottom Feeders - Splatoon

Boys In The Sink - Veggietales

Boys Who Cry - Spongebob Squarepants

Boyz4Now - Bob's Burgers

Boyz 12 - American Dad

Bunk Bed Junction - No Straight Roads

C

Cheetah Girls - Cheetah Girls

The Clash At Demonhead - Scott Pilgrim 

The Covey - Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Crash & The Boys - Scott Pilgrim

D

Daisy Jones & The Six - Daisy Jones & The Six

Damp Socks - Splatoon

De Bois Band - & Juliet

Deep cut - Splatoon

DETHKLOK - Metalocalypse

Dedf1sh - Splatoon

Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros - Space Opera 

Dingoes Ate My Baby - Buffy The Vampire Slayer

DJ Octavio - Splatoon

DJ Stylbator - Samurai Jack

Dr Teeth and The Electric Mayhem - The Muppets 

Drive Shaft - LOST

E

Evar Orbus & The Galactic Jizz-Wailers/The Max Rebo Band - Star Wars

F

Fig and the Cig Figs - Dimension 20 Fantasy High

The Flaming Creatures - Velvet Goldmine

Fran-Shou-Shou - Zombie Land Saga

G

Gallifrey Academy Hot Five - Doctor Who 

Gem & The Scotts - Secret Life SMP

Gillion & The Tidestriders - Just Roll With It

Girls Dead Monster - Angel Beats

Gorillaz - Gorillaz

Grifters Bone - Magnus Archives 

H

Hatsune Miku - Vocaloid

Heaven Seventeen - A Clockwork Orange

The Hectic Glow - The Fault In Our Stars

Hex Girls - Scooby Doo

I

Ink Theory - Splatoon

J

Jem & The Holograms - Jem & The Holograms

Johnny Casino and The Gamblers - Grease

Josie & The Pussycats - Archie (Comic)

The Juicy Fruits - Phantom of the Paradise

Julie and the Phantoms - Julie and the Phantoms

K

Kessoku Band - Bocchi the Rock

Killer Boy Rats - Horrid Henry

The Killjoys - My Chemical Romance

L

Lacus Clyne - Mobile Suit Gundam Seed

Lady Parts - We Are Lady Parts

The Last Days - The Last Days

Lemonade Mouth - Lemonade Mouth

Leningrad Cowboys - Leningrad Cowboys

Lincoln Hawk - Gossip Girl

Little White Lie - Little White Lie

Loded Diper - Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Love Burger - Can't Hardly Wait

Love Händel - Phineas and Ferb

LumberZacks - Milo Murphy's Law 

M

Mad Gear & The Missile Kid - Danger Days, My Chemical Romance

Maxwell Demon & The Venus In Furs - Velvet Goldmine

The Mechanisms - The Mechanisms 

Milkcan - Um Jammer Lammy

The Misfits - Jem & The Holograms

Muppet Orchestra - The Muppets 

N 

Needy Beast - Hatchetfield

O

Octoplush - Splatoon

Old Gods of Asgard - Alan Wake

ok, kids - Andre and Karl

Off The Hook - Splatoon

P

Pink Slip - Freaky Friday

Plasmagica - Show By Rock

Proto Zoa - Zenon Sweep 

R

The Rainbooms - Equestria Girls

The Rats - Velvet Goldmine

RIP - Ruby Gloom

The Risky Fix-Ins - Buzzfeed Unsolved Franchise

The Rutles - All You Need Is Cash

S

Sadie-Killer & The Suspects - Steven Universe

Sadgasm - The Simpsons

SCÄB - Home Movies

Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles

Sev'ral Timez - Gravity Falls

Sex Bob-omb - Scott Pilgrim vs The World

Sing Street - Sing Street 

Soundcheck - Odd Squad

Spinal Tap - This Is Spinal Tap

Squid Sisters - Splatoon

Squid Squad - Splatoon

The Stiff Dylans - Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging 

Sunset Curve - Julie and the Phantoms

The Superconducting Supercolliders - Designations Congruent With Things (Pacific Rim fanfiction)

T

The Three Lights - Sailor Moon

Trapnest - NANA

Turquoise October - Splatoon

V

The Vampire Lestat - The Vampire Chronicles

W

Wonderlands x Showtime - Hatsune Miku Colourful Stage/Vocaloid

The Wonders - That Thing You Do

Wyld Stallyns - Bill & Ted franchise

Wet Floor - Splatoon

w-3 (omega-3) - Splatoon

Y

Yoko & the Gold Bazookas - Splatoon

Z

Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars - David Bowie