#male reality tv feet

[kpopscruggles]

Kiss Me Thru The Phone : S.M.

Word Count : 3,894

Genre : Smut, Fluff

Warnings : (this ain’t a warning but Mingi x chubby reader) mingi pov mainly, Sexual Content, Mature Language, panty stealing and sniffing, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, the world already overpopulated) Mingi is basically in love with you, squint of alcohol, Yeosang name is mentioned as an ex

Summary : Mingi is in love with the his long life friend, he also loves her body more than anything. After his friend gets out of another shitty relationship he expects it to happen again till she texts him one night.

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"You think he's a good guy, right?" Your question only made Mingi pause as he looked away from the TV. Now the movie night wasn't going according to plan. You had been talking to this guy that Mingi was far from liking; he felt the male didn't treat you well. He was also just jealous that the guy had the guts to reach you first. His blood boiled; in fact, he hadn't come to terms with the fact that someone else could take you from him, and it almost made him want to cry.

"I mean, I think he treats you well," and he wasn't wrong; he just felt like the guy didn't do everything for you, like the things you wanted him to accompany you on; usually the guy would back out last minute, but when you two were together, he could see how the guy put a smile on your face. Yeosang, that was him—the guy he dreaded seeing every time he walked into your front door. "But aren't you guys just talking right now? I do feel like he's, well, around a lot".

Mingi could feel himself shivering just thinking of how you'd react to his response; he never wanted you to be mad at him. This explains why he never gave his true opinion much when it came to Yeosang. "I think he's really sweet; you're right though, we are just talking, but I think he's about to ask me on a date". Part two, dating, was something Mingi didn't have the heart to hear about, so he began to slowly distance himself from reality again.

Mingi had been with you forever, ever since you guys were little. He always found you kind and sweet, but as filthy as it probably sounds—perverted, to be exact. It wasn't until puberty hit that he began to develop a crush—a hard one at that. Watching how your chest grew, even noticing it more when you wear tank tops during the summer. By the time you guys reached ninth grade, on that summer vacation where you wore the bikini, they'd grown even more.

When you got comfortable wearing just a T-shirt and the smallest shorts you could find, was that on purpose? He always wondered but, of course, never dared to ask. His favorite part was how everything on your body had grown a bit chunkier over the years; how he imagined gripping your thighs and watching the flesh ooze slightly between his fingers; how your pudge would show through your bottoms.

You were in his dreams, in his thoughts, and definitely in his imagination. "So you like him?" you questioned, and Mingi let out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders. "Sure. I don't see why not." No. He hated his guts and would always hate his guts.

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Over the next few weeks, of course, Mingi was by your side, especially when, of course, Yeosang ghosted you after you rejected him for sex. This had happened a few times, but Mingi didn't mind going through it with you because that meant he was the one to build you up and put you back on your feet. He began coming over a lot more; it was perfect.

going out on late-night walks. "You know, I can't even believe I fell for that." You chuckled. "You have a nice smile," he added before looking off into the street and hearing you chuckle, "Thanks, Mingi". That was it—an absolute fail. Sometimes Mingi felt like he was far from your type, so even if he had told you straight to your face that he liked you, you probably wouldn't even notice. No, he couldn't talk to you like that; he couldn't degrade you in any way; his heart just wouldn't allow it.

"There's a party this weekend; a friend of mine from high school is throwing a birthday party, so we should go." Was this an invitation? Of course it was. He turned back to you before nodding, "Really? We don't necessarily party though" he chuckled "I mean, you don't have to go; I just thought it would be fun".

Was he going to end up going? Probably not. If he had gotten an invitation from the person, then sure, but he didn't, so he wasn't going to stress about it. "I'll pass this time, but I promise that next time I get an invitation from you, I'll go." He smiled before giving her a hug. He felt bad, but he was sure you'd have fun without him.

Getting back to your place, he sat down with you on your bed as you both scrolled through your phone. "Mingi, do you think I'm hot? Would you like to sleep with me? If we weren't friends, of course.". He paused. What kind of question was that, and what kind of answer was he supposed to give? He cleared his throat, and he panicked as he could feel his cheeks and ears grow hot. He knew he was blushing like an idiot, and he couldn't even help but smile.

"To be honest, yeah," he added before getting rid of his smile and letting out a small chuckle. "Strange question, but yeah is the answer," he went on before going back to his phone while hearing you laugh a little. He sat there for a moment, staring at the same Tiktok. He was blank. Now his thoughts were running a marathon in his head, maybe even faster than the butterflies in his stomach.

You had never asked him a question like that. He cleared his throat once again before getting up to go to the bathroom. Shutting the door, he immediately let out a sigh. He had to remove these thoughts from his head. Walking to the sink, he paused, feeling his spine tingle slightly at the aching feeling in his chest. Taking a breath, he peaked into his sweats, his cock slowly oozing a bead of cumin, his top a bright pink hat he knew would turn into an irritated red soon.

He let out a whimper as he let his pointer finger swipe the cum from his tip. He began to pant slightly, saying, If I'm quiet, I can easily do this." Could he, though? No, now was not the time to second-guess himself. Taking another deep breath, he looked around as his free hand clicked the lock on the door behind him. His eyes shot open; peaking from the hot hoodies and sweatpants, the rose-red lace. He turned from the laundry basket while shaking his head; he couldn't! He could! He really could!

He quickly snatched the lace from the laundry basket before putting it in his pocket and sheltering his cock back in his sweatpants, leaving the room, then peeking into your bedroom and saying, "I think I'm going to head off.". Not the frown; he'd beg for anything else but seeing the frown on your face: 'But it's the weekend; you always stay on the weekend; at least stay tonight, and you can go home before I leave for the party tomorrow".

Fuck, shit, damn! He couldn't help but curse in his head. What was he supposed to say? No, surely that wasn't an option, as he didn't want you to get upset. "Mingi, I didn't fluster you, did I?". He panicked, that filthy smirk growing on his face as he let out a sigh. "I need to go," he insisted.

Seeing you walk towards him, he couldn't help but turn around with the plan to leave. As much as he wished he could stay to experience your intentions, he felt the guilt weighing him down—the guilt that rested in his sweatpants pocket, the guilt that would send him to the grave if you found out.

The guilt also currently has him in his car, not even making it into his apartment. The guilt caused his cock to leak extremely as he pumped it and enjoyed the smell of your cunt. The guilt that he wouldn't even forgive a higher power for The guilt that was now not so guilty as he watched the white ropes of cum run against his stomach was only guilt if he had gotten caught with it, his dirty little secret...

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I hadn't seen Mingi since last night, and while getting ready, I tried to call him just to talk, but there was no answer. While trying to enjoy the birthday party, I began to enjoy the drinks more while waiting on Mingi's message or at least a call back to compensate for the missed one.

Hey, is something up?

Ugh, Mingi just answered.

The more drinks I managed to have, the more I couldn't help but think about it—about him, his touch, the way he smelled—everything. Mingi was just always in my thoughts lately, but they were never so strong that everything made me think of him.

I miss you.

You should meet me at my place.

Please

Mingi You don't understand

I need you.

I just had to admit it: I wanted Mingi; I wanted him to bend me over; and I wanted to feel his cock. I don't think I've ever been as desperate for anyone before. I could feel the ache; my clitter was crying to be touched. Fuck his hands; his fingers even stretched me open in such a sinful way. His voice, his tongue, the way I could even sit on his face, or how big he was to just tower over me and make me cry for his cock, fuck, I needed him.

Eventually, I couldn't help but leave; I had to get home and try to get a hold of him or take care of myself. As I sat in the Uber, there was a buzz next to my leg. It was my phone.

Need me?

Yes...

That was all I could manage to reply with; he had to have known I needed him.

Do you want me? Do you need me? Need me to fuck you?

Mingi couldn't process this conversation. He felt his chest tighten as if all the air had left him. He knew exactly what you meant as he paused before hitting the phone icon, hearing it ring against his ear.

"Hey.."

"How badly do you need me? "You're not going to make me a second option." He hated to sound this way, but he was just too obsessed with you; if he slept with you, he wasn't going to let anyone have you, and that was that. He had to make sure you wanted him as bad as he wanted you every day.

"Now why would I make you my second option?" I questioned him, as I could tell he was nibbling on his bottom lips before I heard his response. "You're drunk; go to bed", Now I couldn't describe the disappointment that left me with.

For the longest, and I mean the longest, I could've sworn he was attracted to me, was he not? "Why does that matter?" There was only a chuckle that came from him. I lay in bed before requesting to change the call to FaceTime.

Declined.

"Why won't you let me see you?"

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"Y/N, answer my question. You don't understand how much I need an answer."

Mingi kept you on speaker; his cheeks flushed at hearing the rustling of the sheets. He wanted to give in to you; his brain begged him to, but he just couldn't let himself do that. If he slept with you, then he couldn't bear seeing you with someone else.

"I want you, Mingi; you'll always be my first option." Fuck, fuck the words that came from your lips. Why? because he was already out the door with the plan to be at your house in ten minutes. The way you just had him wrapped around your finger without knowing sent him for a spin.

You didn't even know the half of it—how much he begged for you and cried out your name when he pumped himself, wishing you were there to like the cum that would drip from his head.

Although he thought about you pleasing him, he mostly couldn't get you off his mind. The way his ears would heat up as he drove just thinking about your chubby figure, how it would feel to have your warm, soft thighs around his waist as he fucked you, being able to see your chest in his perfect view, your cute tummy, your chubby cheeks that connected to the perfect lips, ugh, your lips.

Your lips—he couldn't control himself while thinking about them. How they let out the most sinful whines for him, or how they'd look wrapped around his cock as you milked him dry.

All these fantasies he's had for so long, so fucking long, and now here he was, not hanging up the call as he let your begs ring through his ears as he drove. The phone was resting in his lap, and your moans were still so loud that he felt he was right in front of you already.

"Please, Mingi, please come over. You don't know how badly I need you."

"Yeah? "Don't worry, beautiful, I'm trying as quick as I

It was like everything was in a jumble; he needed you, and his brain was so fogged by your lewd sounds that he was surprised he was even able to keep the focus on the road.

"I'll be ready, baby," was all he heard. NO! You couldn't hang up just yet.

"I can't get a kiss before you go." His tone was whinier than usual, and when he noticed, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed, realizing the needy state he was actually in. His heart pounded at the second of silence before he heard you give a little kiss through the speaker.

He smiled like an idiot when he then heard, "See you soon, handsome; I'll be ready." That tone was nothing but filthy, as it made his cock twitch in his pants. Hering the line end, he then drove a bit quicker...

Once he realized he was in front of your place, he took a big breath before walking himself inside. Entering the apartment, he could hear the AC unit running, yet his body was still so hot. It was dark due to you not being there. Moving his feet again, he began looking around the living room.

His breath hitched as he picked up the thong that was tossed next to the dress on the floor. You were already naked. Shamelessly, he held the thong up to his face, taking in the gorgeous scent of you once again. The scent of you was one he could never degrade; nothing about you he could.

Looking at the dress on the floor, he then picked it up; the skimpy piece of cloth now rested in his hands. At that moment, something in him grew cold. The thought that someone at that party had seen you like that—they had seen your body barely being restrained in the whimpy dress he was holding—

This dress was no different than going out bare, and the fact he couldn't see a bra made his skin turn cold in a way that he surely didn't like. "Mingi, baby, what's taking you so long?" Looking up from the clothing, he saw your bare body lean against the doorframe to your bedroom.

He watched your cute little face as you smirked, looking down at your chest as you had no shame when he stared at them, and he knew it, your cute tummy resting comfortably before he could see your pussy...the one that was resting in the pants he was holding, not to mention the ones he stole.

"Was this the dress you wore out?" he asked softly before walking closer to you. Holding it upwards a bit, he then placed it in your hand. "Please put it back on, baby," he begged before placing a kiss on your hand. "And these? "I'll keep these," he added, placing the thong in his pocket.

Mingi couldn't even tell what had come over him; he just felt that he had to breed you in that dress. He felt he had to watch his cum either drip from you or stain the darling fabric of the dress. Seeing you raise a brow, he did the same before you just nodded and slipped it on.

Exactly as he imagined, walking past you and into your room, he placed himself on the bed. That split second, seeing the view behind him, he watched your ass peek from the dress, your thighs rubbing together, before you turned around to face him.

Seeing you walk towards him, he gasped slightly, feeling your wet cunt in his lap, the wetness running through the thin sweatpants just enough for him to feel it against his tip. Moving his hips slightly, he then knew he was a goon.

Your lips against his, swirling your tongue ever so slightly, and being able to taste your saliva with his caused him to tense. "Relax, Mingi, we don't want to get too excited and cum too soon." The little giggle that left your lips after made him flush. Looking down at his lap, he couldn't help but run his hands over his thighs before gripping them and watching the bits of chub flow over between his fingers.

"You're so fucking pretty," he whispered against your chest before licking over the fabric and watching your nipples harden underneath. "Thank you, but you're so much prettier." He almost choked on his breath as you tangled your hands in his hair.

"P-please fuck me" was all that could come from his now. "Wrap your thighs around me, lock me in as I fuck you." He placed you on the bed before hivering above you, watching you pull down his sweats. He shivered, feeling the air run against his begging tip.

wYou'reh"your so hard for me alrGuess guess we can't time,e time can we?" That same sinful giggle only distracted him for a moment before feeling your warm had wrap around his cock. Letting out a whimper, he couldn’t help but knit his brows.

He was already sensitive, so your doing this was enough to send him over the edge. As much as he wanted to hold it in, he just couldn't, and you both knew that. You both knew if you quickened your wrist, he’d cum.

"S-stop please," although he surely didn’t want to, he did want you to watch him cum so easily. Heavy but short breaths began to leave him as he held onto your thighs to keep himself balanced.

"Hmm? What is it, baby? Don’t you want to cum for me?" Seeing your pout, he knew he couldn’t disappoint. Did he fall into your little trap? Maybe he cared. No, he was going to cum for you like you wanted.

"L-little more, I promise I'll cum for you!" He cried, watching his hips buck uncontrollably. "That’s it, don’t be shy."

Now that those words brought him to the edge, he was definitely cumming right then and there. He whined in embarrassment as he watched the thick white ropes leave his cock, although no matter how embarrassed he wanted to be, he couldn’t help but feel his heart burst watching his cum ooze off your tummy and thighs.

Hearing your giggle, he watched you swipe up the cum that dripped from your cunt before taking it into your mouth. "Felt good, didn’t it? Don’t ever be shy about cuddling for me".

He nodded before watching you lay down, all of your body exposed to him, and lay under him. Placing his hands in the corners of the pillow, he felt your cumbersome, strained thighs wrap around his waist. "Go ahead, Mingi, fuck me like you want too."

Taking a deep breath, he lined his cock with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. A groan left him as he tried not to collapse onto you. Your pussycat already had him weak; he just knew that even with cumping already, he was definitely going to cum again soon.

"So big… "Cmon, baby, give me all of it." You whined, pushing him deeper, taking one last deep breath as he bottomed out into you. He calmed himself before beginning to move his hips.

"Just like that, baby, fuck!" You were already crying for him, and although he was in the state he was in, he couldn’t help but smirk, "Am I doing good? You love it, don’t you?" he smiled before sitting on his knees.

Watching his cock spread your cunt open, the white creamy substance coating him, watching it as it stuck you two together with each thrust, "such a pretty pussy, beautiful body, such a gorgeous girl..your gonna be my gorgeous girl, right?" Seeing you nod, he felt his heart flutter.

"I want an answer; give me the answer... "Oh, you can say it," he added, running his thumb over your cheek as he felt your hot, flushed skin and the warm breath from your lips as the cries had left you.

"I’m your girl, Mingi," he said, shaking his head. "That’s not what I said, baby; say it. Say it so I can fuck you like you deserve."

"I'M YOUR G-AH GORGEOUS GIRL!" Hearing you scream was enough to make him want to go harder, and knowing he was the one that made you feel like this just sent a boost through him. "that’s it! My gorgeous girl, all mine.".

All the men you had before were now nothing to him. Why? Because he was here watching you make a mess on his cock, he wasn’t at home thinking about how lucky they possibly were because now he was the lucky one.

He was now the guy he dreamed of being, and he wasn’t going to do anything to ruin that. Snapping out of his thoughts, he sucked in a breath, feeling how you suddenly tightened around him. "F-fuck, you're going to make me cum!" He sighed, making sure to push his hips deeper.

"M-more, make me cum on your cock baby, please, please... I’m already a mess, Mingi." Seeing you beg, he couldn’t help but kiss your lips before pulling away from you just to slam into you again. The careless whine that left your lips told him you were in bliss.

His eyes rolled back in ecstasy before pushing as deep as he could into you, feeling you cum onto his cock, a loud cry leaving your lips and your back arching slightly, letting out a strained grin he tried to hold back but couldn’t as he felt him cum fill you.

Hearing a low hum leave your lips, he couldn’t help but smile. "Did I do good?" "Amazing" amazing. He did amazing in your opinion; god, you were going to be the death of him.

Placing himself next to you, he immediately pulled you into his hold. "My gorgeous girl," he whispered before stealing a kiss from you. He couldn’t believe the state he was in, to be honest. He still couldn’t. And he didn’t think he’d ever do it.

"You know when we’re sorting, I expect kisses through the phone on the regular," he added, hearing your chuckle. "Don’t worry, you won’t be far from me now."

[evilminji]

You know WHAT? I'm gonna start makin Q.A.B.

Free! Too a good home! Q.A.B. [1]

Quirk Accident Baby's or Q.A.B. (Because it's a fun and convenient way to combine quirks without subjecting anyone to the lose of bodily autonomy, cause i REFUSE to Suprise Pregnant anybody. Male, Female, or Otherwise.) (And to FURTHER clarify, Q.A.B. are the always the result of some combination of quirks that? SOMEHOW bend reality to create a fully formed baby or toddler, "born" or created FROM the DNA of two or more individuals. Thus making those individuals the "parents".) that combined Precent Mic n Eraserhead? Could potentially make a SOUND Nullifying quirk?

Like, the genetic code for Erasure just full on turns Mic's Voice Quirk from a plus to a negative? Remove instead of amplify?

It would be pretty dangerous. People go insane in perfect silence. Experience hallucinations.

Good for disorienting opponents tho?

But? Might render them? "Mute"? They WOULDN'T be. But if no one can hear or understand you, is there a difference? Because if you talk in Negative Sound? The shaped ABSENCE of noise? it would ALMOST sound like talking? Whispery. Almost there.

But... silent. The audio equivalent of light refracting around an invisible object. Prob DEEPLY unnerving. Because the brain would INSIST you SHOULD be hearing something. You can hear the EDGES of the words. Where the shape of her words, her "sound", STOPS. But you can't hear the "sound" itself.

It's like auditory antimatter.

Unlike anechoic chambers? At close range? You might not even be able to hear the internal function of your OWN BODY. A perfect 0 decimals. Absolute silence.

Imagine it.

You can still feel. Still smell. Still SEE. The earth is shaking with explosion and there is smoke on the wind. You are either running FROM a villian attack or ARE ONE. And... the world? Goes Absolutely SILENT.

Not the whine of hearing loss. Not muffled. Just... gone.

Your feet make no noise. Your ragged breath. The fall of telephone poles. The crash of collapsing buildings. You... you can't even hear the beating of your heart, the rush of blood in your veins. Where has the roar of flames gone?

Your mouth is open.

Are you shouting?

The world is silent. A terrible, terrible silent. Until?

IT'S NOT.

And the sound comes rushing back in like a tsunami. Crashing down to carry everything away. Oh god. Oh god it's SO LOUD. SO LOUD MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STO-!!!

I'ma? Call this one Silence. She, like all Aizawa Q.A.B.? Has got that "adorable nightmare demon" vibe going on. Got Daddy's smile~ toothy and unhinged. But Mic's eyes. Like all combos between them, looks like she just crawled out of a TV hissing "7 daaaaaysssssss".

It's the hair and unhinged demeanor.

The fact they let Nedzu babysit.

Not HER fault she got the Aizawa "lol brushes? Brushes do NOTHING" hair. That entire side of the family look like Nightmare Demons as children. Then they grow up Competent AF and HOT. (You should see her dads baby pictures, he looks like a horror movie gremlin)

[chqrmperscn]

can you make a fic about ethan landry taking care of his boyfriend (male reader) the whole week cause his boyfriend goes into depressions every month and he try’s to cheer him up

ethan landry x male reader

ethan can’t figure out why you’re sad. he makes it his goal to get to the bottom of it.

ethan couldn’t figure you out.

within his small group of friends he knew, even before the relationship began, you two had a spark. a type of electricity that could never fizzle out no matter what became the two of you. the spark grew even larger when he had finally decided to man up and ask you out on a date, which you agreed to, and in the end, it became the best night of your life.

you could be the most energetic person in the room, capable of lighting up any area you marched into. you had a type of confidence that ethan could only envy.

about a month after the knot gets tied, he does start noticing a difference though. you don’t text as often nor as quickly as before, and when you do, the lack of emojis is prevalent. ethan, of course freaks out, and finds himself in quinn’s bedroom, pillow in his lap as quinn tries to calm down his nerves.

“i’m telling you, it’s totally normal. the honeymoon stage is over and reality is settling in for the two of you. you’ll adjust.”

‘adjust’. ethan isn’t sure he can adjust to you not being your typical bubbly self. he missed the smiles, the warm ‘hello’s’, the comfortable feeling he’d get from being with you. it hurts.

“b-but like… how do you like… know? what if he just doesn’t want me anymore and is letting me off excessively easy?”

“guys don’t do that, especially ones like [your name]. he’s probably just busy doing him and you should just focus on your college things or whatever you do in your free time. he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

ethan chews his bottom lip. he wants to believe her. he convinces himself to.

three days pass. three agonizing days. ethan took quinn’s advice and took time to focus on school- to set his mind right and to also increase his grades to where he was comfortable. he’s proud of himself for it, but still feels a little guilty. every moment he spent studying he could’ve been with you, though your relationship has hit a rough patch.

he still sends occasional messages, albeit after seventy rough drafts of trying to articulate what he wants means. words were never his strong suit. ethan prepares another message at 8:37, hovering over the blue send button as he rereads his words over and over again. he stretches his thumb out, inhaling sharply.

it isn’t enough to just send a text, ethan thinks to himself. he wants to do more, to say more, instead of just sitting on his ass while trying to put his thoughts into a text box. he deletes his paragraph of love declaration and sighs. he needs to do something. he wants to do something.

ethan isn’t much of a thinker, but he thanks whatever god turned the cogs in his head. he slides his phone in his pockets and gets to his feet: he has some work to do.

it’s raining outside, and the dark october weather hit new york as hard as it possibly could. you laid in bed in your apartment as the tv played background noise. you had your own headphones in, but you hadn’t paid much attention to the music that played. you hadn’t seemed to care much about anything in fact, half eaten chip bags either on or beside your bed. you scrolled on your phone, notifications displayed but not opened, too discouraged to open them.

you wanted to escape, to just find some place to hide and rest and take a break from everything. you were tired, exhausted even. you wanted things to change, and just felt overall ashamed with yourself. it was so easy to just crawl into bed and just hide in there, send a couple messages out to satisfy people’s ‘worries’ and just stake out in your bed sheets.

rain pattered against the window and a sigh escaped from you. your phone was close to dying and you just couldn’t even bear to look at your phone anymore. it took too much time and you could only try and find solace in it for so long. plugging it up and sliding it on the nightstand, you actually take note of the chaos unfolded around you: empty bottles of soda yet to be taken out, glasses of drinks from the fridge lying all over the night stand, and bowls of random assorted foods intermittent across your room.

“i’ll deal with it later,” you chanted to yourself, cutting the tv off and crawling right under your covers, eyes shutting closed.

it wasn’t long before you felt some banging at your apartment door. you tried to shrug it off, hoping it was just someone not important and you could contact later. your eyes closed again and right before you could get comfortable…

BANG! BANG! BANG!

these ones felt urgent, like explosions right on your door. you sat up, crawling from off the bed and stepping onto the floor, unknowingly stepping on yet another bag of chips, crushing the bag and causing some to land on your feet. you wiped your feet with your hand and trudged to the front door, stretching as you went.

you expected maybe someone here with a police report with how dire the pounds sounded on the door. Pulling it open, you hadn’t expected a very wet, and very exhausted ethan landry on your doorstep, covered head to toe in rainwater with a flimsy coat on.

ethan looked at you, and at first he was hard to read exactly. his face had a look of concern, but went into one of pity- of care. you don’t know what pushed you to do what you did, but you found your arms wet around the man that you had neglected for so long. you had gotten so caught up with yourself that the man you loved had probably been extremely worried, and the guilt you caused made him never want to feel like that again.

ethan accepted the hug, getting you wet and just standing there for a moment.

it isn’t long before ethan helps you mollify the disaster your room had become. you two developed a silent routine that helped alleviate the pressure of doing it all by yourself. within about 15 minutes, your room was spotless and you two had retreated onto the couch, thick tension between the two of you.

ethan wasn’t sure exactly how he felt in the moment. this was obviously a moment for you where you weren’t in the best state of mind, and whatever he said may only worsen how you felt, but he lets it fly anyway.

“i was… i was just worried about you. a lot in fact. i don’t do good with just.. being separated from the people i care about for so long. i kept thinking to myself ‘does he hate me, did i do something wrong, are we not seeing each other anymore?’ and it scared me… like to death.”

ethan had spoke to you, but had been too nervous to actually keep eye contact, just twiddling with his fingers as he spoke. you couldn’t look at him either, guilt crawling up your throat and infiltrating your eyes until a tear just eventually flies free from your eyes.

“i don’t know when… but every now and again i just feel… stuck. like i don’t know what i can do to continue going on just like… existing. sometimes i just feel like i take up space, and wh-when i do feel like that, i just like to stay alone. i know it isn’t a… healthy thing that normal people do but- i guess what i’m trying to say is i didn’t mean for you to feel like that. i just wanted space- and the space i created ended up hurting you. i had- i never meant for that to happen ethan.”

you choked on your sobs, trying to get out how you felt and form it into a way for him to understand. ethan crawled over closer to you, arms reaching around to embrace you, tears staining his shoulder as you wept into him.

“it’s okay, [your name]. i… get it. i get that way too sometimes.”

it gets quiet for a moment, but eventually you stop crying and pull your head off ethan’s shoulder and he looks you in the eye. he plays around with your fingers, a smile on your face.

“what’s so funny?” you question, his smile growing even larger.

“i brought some snacks and stuff to cheer you up, and maybe we can watch some movies if you’re up for it. i brought your favorite sugar cookies, even though those are kinda expensive.” he reaches into some bag you hadn’t even noticed and handed them over, which caused you to smile even harder about.

“i love you so much ethan.” you declare as he hands you the cookies.

“i love you even more.” ethan mutters. the rain outside has calmed, and so has the tension between the two star-crossed lovers, sitting on the couch and laughing over which movie choices sound best for the night.

[casp1an-sea]

Verre Courvoisier

picrews are Not mine: extra A,１＋１は2メーカー

My TWST OC Based on the Glass Slipper!

Male, He/him

Species: Quarter Fae

Dorm: Verre is homeschooled but if he went to NRC he’d be in ignihide

Grade: Freshman

Birthday: November 17th (Scorpio)

Age: 16

Height: 5’7”

Dominant Hand: left

Homeland: Briar Valley/Shaftlands

Likes: reading patents, and blue prints on old machinery

Dislikes: love at first sight, Forced love, dancing (he’s embarrassed because he lost his shoe once), magic in general, even though his grandmother is teaching him it, promises, SHOE SHOPPING. He’s a very pessimistic person.

Favorite Food: Turkish Delight

Least Favorite Food: pumpkin pie

Talent: Having really small feet (4.5)

If he did go to NRC (I have an AU where he does) Floyd would call him Sea Salp and Rook would call him Monsieur La Glacé (yes I know that means Ice cream)

he’s extremely clumsy

—————————————————————————

Verre is tired of the world. He’s a kind soul with a fragile exterior. His heart is broken easily. He is immensely shy. He says he hates romance but he’s secretly love sick.

Verre sometimes stays with his parents in the shaftlands, but for the most part, he lives with his grandmother (the TWST version of the fairy godmother). She’s a fae and lives in briar Valley, but she moves around a lot as she runs the reality TV show network “once upon a dream”. Verre is often brought along with her and often helps out on set. Because he moves around a lot he is homeschooled by his grandmother, who teaches him magic as well. Being around the reality TV, show net work so much has kind of made him bitter towards the type of thing. —————————————————————————

@xen-blank @thehollowwriter @ferris-the-wheel @fizzydreamz @hyperfixation-or-death

@ravenwing0110 @keii-starz @distant-velleity

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@cimonim-crunch

[hellhound-wrangler]

love this stinky coyote man very much, and he wants SO MUCH to be a Good Boy, but sometimes I look into his beautiful golden eyes and see his two brain cells in an all-out brawl for third place.

He can't distinguish Fiction (the TV) from Reality (the windows), and gets really annoyed about the dogs in movies who will not stay put so he can sniff them. He will get up on the TV stand trying to smell them (if they look cute) or stand 3 feet away and yell angrily at them (if they look like male dogs that couldn't crush him like a bug).

Thinks the local black bears are just legitimate contractors who definitely belong in our driveway (he'll just watch them with mild interest from the porch until I nearly collide with one coming around the corner of my housemate's van, whereas Ripley will at least bark at them from the porch and warn me), but loses his tiny mind every time a spruce grouse comes into view.

Has absolutely zero body awareness when it comes to his paws. This man will step on (or in) everything. He also scrabbles wildly like Wile E Coyote when he gets excited and literally runs in place on the floor for a second or two. I have given up on teaching him paw targeting.

Two years old, still pees on his own feet.

He's a wonderful little dude, but sometimes I just need to roast my hairiest little himbo.

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

the waiting game | smau

part four

kyle was crushed. he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from the post you’d made, jealousy burning his gut at the sight of you curled up with another man. he hated you with kenny in every way; you just weren’t compatible. it wasn’t like he was hating on your relationship — well, actually, he was, but that was besides the point — he just couldn’t understand why a girl like you would be with someone like kenny.

he wasn’t sure what he needed in the moment, his blood boiling and his fists clenched. he couldn’t seem to lose the tension in his bones and muscles, every bit of him curling into itself. he felt the tears stinging behind his eyes, the urge to scream tightening his airways. his fist collided with his bedroom before he could stop himself, the sharp pain in his knuckles knocking him back to reality.

he was embarrassed, ears burning and stomach churning. he was so pathetic for how he was acting. he had absolutely no right to be upset about your relationship and the fact that he was left him feeling humiliated.

with all the tense, angry energy trapped in his body, his mind stuck on kenny’s hands in your hair and the post of you so close together, he chose to go for a run. the pavement was hard against the balls of his feet, his music loud as his footsteps thudded along the pavement. he found himself passing your house, seeing the tv through the window of your room and your car being the only one in the driveway. his face pulled into a disgruntled frown as he propelled his body forward.

he’d arrived at the tweak bros. coffee shop after a few long minutes of jogging, entering the building panting as he took his airpods out of his ears and slipped them back into their case. he approached the counter, plastering a smile on his face for tweek. the male was stood behind the counter, a cup of coffee lifted to his lips.

“hey, tweek,” kyle greeted, a startled tweek choking on his coffee. the blonde set it down and wiped his lips, kyle uttering an apology.

“what can i get for you, kyle?” tweek choked out, still coughing. kyle hummed as he glanced over the menu, fingers tapping relentlessly on the countertop. tweek took notice of this and placed his hand atop kyle’s, eyebrows furrowed over blue eyes.

“are you alright, buddy?” tweek inquired, and kyle sighed with a slow shake of his head. tweek had ironically been a voice of reason for kyle since they’d hit high school, tweek’s avoidance of social situations and therefore lack of bias coming in handy.

“not really, man,” kyle murmured, rubbing his temples in frustration.

tweek grunted as he sat with kyle at a table in the corner of the coffee shop, his fingers toying with the sleeves of his hoodie. kyle was in a similar boat, leg bouncing and fingers tapping away.

“i think i’m in love with y/n, but she’s dating kenny,” kyle finally stated, tweek’s head rearing back in shock. kyle cleared his throat and scratched restlessly at his scalp, chewing on his lower lip. the thought of you and kenny had reentered his mind and he didn’t like it, feeling nauseous at the idea of you dating kenny.

“i didn’t know they were dating,” tweek responded, eyebrows drawn together. kyle sighed and pulled up the post you’d recently made, turning his phone to show tweek the screen. he stared at it for a long moment, then sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“that is an absolute shit show of a relationship, i will say that,” tweek murmured. kyle raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, pocketing his phone.

“as far as i know from y/n herself, she tried sleeping with kenny a while back to rebound from some guy she was interested in and kenny couldn’t get it up. are you sure they’re dating?” tweek whispered, leaning forward so his voice wouldn’t carry through the coffee shop. kyle’s stomach dropped into his feet. you hooked up with kenny? he felt his heart splinter in his chest, the wind knocked from his lungs.

“y/n… slept with kenny?” kyle uttered. he couldn’t think through his brain fog, his mind entirely focused on the affection he’d seen you and kenny share on multiple occasions. sure, you were touchy with everyone, including your friends in relationships. in fact, he’d seen you kiss bebe and wendy on the cheeks multiple times. you were so affectionate, especially towards kenny. and especially not towards kyle himself.

was something wrong with him? was he not good enough? kyle heaved a great sigh as he sunk down in his chair, tweek’s voice going entirely over his head. a part of him wanted to focus on the ‘tried to’ portion of tweek’s statement, but he couldn’t help but focus on the rest. you fucked kenny. you fucked kenny and not him.

he thanked tweek and hastily left the coffee shop, darting down the sidewalk towards his house. he couldn’t stop the angry tears from forming in his eyes, cursing himself for being so childish. how dare he be upset about you sleeping with your boyfriend? god, he was such a loser. he was such a fucking loser.

and god, did he need a cold fucking shower.

masterlist

[anubisisms]

so i've been reading house of earth and blood (currently ~300 pages in) despite being a known disliker of sarah j maas because come on. we all need a healthy amount of trash in our lives and so far the main thoughts rotating in my brain about it are:

the use of 'male' and 'female' instead of just like. man. woman. person etc. bothers me so much. i twitch every time i read it. like why does half this novel sound like an incel forum

"alphahole". why.

how does bryce have functional feet she wears 4-6 inch heels everywhere

unforgivable sin of ms maas to have a whole chapter at the start just be characters walking and talking. i understand the need for exposition. but its a whole chapter of literally just walking and talking

if this novel was just about hunt's backstory i would unironically eat it tf up. he's by far the most interesting one

i quite like the bryce-hunt dynamic i will confess. already places this book leagues above her others. I've heard book 2 ruins it but shhhh I'll enjoy it while its tolerable

how do you pronounce ruhn (rune? run? I've been saying it as rune but like???)

lehabah is baby girl

seriously ms maas write a book just about hunt. i will buy it

legitimately though, she has a longstanding problem with handing us characters whose most interesting trait is their background. i don't want to read about their dull romance. give me the guts and gore war backstory as a novel! please!

bryce is well and truly aelin lite™️ and its both hilarious and very annoying

the copy of this book i bought was 9 whole dollars and i can't decide if it was worth every penny or worth approximately none of them. schrodingers dollars.

honestly i'm enjoying it more than i thought i would. it's a bit like the book version of a reality tv show. still think the writing could be a bit more up to par both in style and maturity for an adult fiction novel, but it's whatever. a solid trash read i may give a full review when I'm done

[symphonyofsilence]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Oooh such a difficult question! I have like about...50 top 10 favorite characters somehow and they're ever increasing lmao! (like the 10 is in the Real numbers axis not natural numbers.lol.) So, after lots of thought, I decided to consider the factor of how well-written they are. The ones who had the most ups and downs and the author managed to hit every emotional chord every step of the way.

So, in no particular order:

Maedhros (Tolkien's legendarium)

(Art by @elfinfen )

I have waxed poetic about Maedhros on many occasions. Namely here. But to be brief: he just has one of the best fallen hero tragedies ever! And one of the most beautiful, rich, tragic, and enticing journeys! One of the best parts of the Silmarillion is following his journey from the son who fought with the rest of his family over the Teleri ships and then disagreed with Fëanor over the burning of the ships, and paid the most dearly for that mistake, and then healed because "the fire of life was hot within him" and fought with everything he had to protect the Middle-earth and unite all the houses and all the races, to the Maedhros after The Nirnaeth, who led three Kingslayings and came to actually involuntarily help the Malkor whom he fought so hard against for so long and was tortured with his own deeds so much that he ended his life with fire, right after he won the one thing he was fighting for from the beginning of his story. Only to have lost everything else.

2. Fëanor (Tolkien's legendarium)

He's the fire. He's the forest. And he's a witness watching it. Has a man ever destroyed so much even as he kept creating? Has a man ever dreamed so big his dreams crushed his reality beneath their feet? Has a man ever ruined everything and everyone he loved from the moment he was born down to the moment he last closed his eyes on the sight of the sons that followed him to their demise? Because he was burning so hot that everything close to him burnt with him? Has a man lost all he stood for in the way of fighting for what he stood for?

He brought his own end and there's something really appealing, really humane, really real about self-made tragedies.

(Also he's absolutely unhinged and his lines are all bangers & I love him for that!)

3. Jin Guangyao (Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed)

Just the place JGY occupies in the narrative, as WWX's parallel and the story's antagonist who is basically also kinda the protagonist in this very story if you look at it from another angle is fascinating! You can write essays about him!

He just wanted to honor his mother, he just wanted his father's approval, he wanted the world. He wanted the world just to have some safety he never had. He never got any safety even when had the world. He did many evils to get the world. He wanted the world just to do some good in it. He was the best Xiao Shushu. He took his nephew hostage. and even then he didn't lose his nephew'slove. He played a game designed against him and won. He lost in his own game to the man he didn't even know was playing. And he truly loved and cared for that man. He was so kind, he took personal risks with no benefit for himself to save people. He couldn't afford to be a good, righteous person who would always be kind. He kinda taught this to WWX the hard way. He plays the role of a villain in WWX's story. His endgame was to just run away and WWX interrupted him. They barely knew each other. They respected each other. He died by his love's hand and his last deed in life was to push his love out of danger.

He never had a chance. At no point could he have been happy, or saved. He was doomed from the beginning. And yet he went as far as went. And there's a certain appeal to this kind of soft power, resilience, determination, hard work, cleverness, brilliance, and competence. To not just give in to fate and if there is no chance to take, then create some. To just forcefully carve a place yourself in the world of the world has decided that you have no place in it.

And everything he does he does with STYLE! AND HE'S SO POLITE EVEN WHEN TALKING TO THE PEOPLE HE'S TAKEN HOSTAGE! HE'S SO COOL AND SO ELEGANT AND SECRETLY SASSY AND SO COMPETENT I CAN'T HELP BUT STAN!

4. Jiang Cheng (Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed)

Ah, the grumpy but kindhearted characters. They always have my whole heart.

Nobody can convince me Jiang Cheng is not my actual little brother!

I love this tsundere wet cat so much! He's a loser, he's won at everything he's ever started, he's a mess, he's a badass, he's a wet cat, he's a war hero and a competent sect leader and an excellent Jiujiu, he's broken and betrayed, he's so full of love that he gives freely and unconditionally.

And isn't it kinda the point? To go on and continue even while crying and screaming? To break down and grieve, but get up again and keep going? To love, despite many things that stand against it?

Jiang Cheng's character is introduced in a way that at every turn, you're waiting for the moment when he turns against Wei Wuxian and kills his brother. And it never comes. Instead, he loves him. At every turn, when you'd think that anyone else would have given up, Jiang Cheng keeps loving more and more fiercely. Even in his last scene, as he leaves the story, he leaves you astonished by all the love he has given and still has to give.

(And he's a sassy queen which is a very important factor.)

5. Mu Qing (Heaven's official blessing)

Mu Qing is another character that was introduced to us in the most unfavorable way possible and as we go on, we learn that all his actions had been misinterpreted and this lil grumpy, sassy, bitter cat is actually very, very kind. And loyal, and insecure. and he does all his kind deeds without expecting anything, even acknowledgment in return even though he knows his actions will probably be misinterpreted again. and even though he has seen nothing but ungratefulness before when he helped others! he just never ceases being kind and going out of his way to help! because that's who he is! HIS NAME MEANS "YEARNING FOR AFFECTION"! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!

6. Geto Suguru (Jujutsu Kaisen)

This one was truly "dead from the beginning". And you don't even know what a gentle, sweet, lovely soul you've lost until you learn this right at the same time when you learn you've never had him to begin with.

Geto Suguru, with his voice so soft, with his smiles so sweet, with his eyes so kind, with his manners so soothing, so full of consideration, with his heart so gentle that it will bring his downfall, so concerned with the thought of ALWAYS saving everyone that he forgot to save himself. So, so loved that he'll haunt the narrative till everyone who knows him is dead.

The doomed child, the broken man. Gentle, and so very loved and loving to his last breath. And even beyond (to the point that he comes back to life to save Gojo!)

Has anyone ever fallen so tenderly, so gently, As he holds the hands of the two little girls he's saved after the one little girl he couldn't?

His fall came so understandably, so naturally, you feel like you walked the path with him and nobody not even in-universe can blame him.

As almost anyone who knew him in-universe would agree, loving Geto Suguru comes very easy.

7. Wanda Maximoff (MCU)

What can I say about Wanda Maximoff? The girl who kept trying to grasp at the only things left for her, be it her brother, her husband, or her children only to lose and lose and lose again. The girl who kept choosing to save people again and again. The girl who was afraid of her power because it could kill people but still chose to use it to help others, who then came to the point that she took an entire town hostage? The girl who had to kill the love of her life thrice only for it to mean nothing? The girl who looked relieved as she turned into ashes when the blink happened? The girl who just wanted a little domestic life in their little house with her husband but had to save the world but her efforts were never enough? The girl who nearly killed Thanos singlehandedly? The girl who ran across universes to kill her other self to be a mother to her children?

And as Steve said, "she's just a kid."

What can I say about Wanda, the Victim, the te****ist, the scarlet which, the mother, the kid?

I love her so much!

8. Zuko (Avatar the Last airbender)

What can I say about Zuko that hasn't already been said numerous times and way better than I could? The best redemption arc I've ever seen. And one of the most adorable social disasters ever.

9. Azula (Avatar the Last airbender)

Azula's breakdown will always haunt me.

She was so cool, so calm and in control, so confident, and so competent you forgot she was only 14. Until it hit you hard in the face when she imagined her mother telling her that she loved her in the mirror. And you see her break down and scream, defeated on the ground, when she sees her brother with his friend. Victorious, because he had people who helped him.

But Azula was alone and let down by every adult around her. When she told her father "You're treating me like I'm Zuko!" you understand how all her life, she's been afraid that if she was "almost" perfect she'd be put aside like Zuko. and how being the perfect child for her father would mean being a monster to her mother. and she chose the parent who gave her praise instead of judgment, and even that parent's love wasn't unconditional. He was a narcissist and took advantage of her. when Ursa in the comics told her "I'm sorry I didn't love you enough." and Azula burst into tears IT BROKE ME!

10. V (V for Vendetta)

Originally I was really pondering whether I should give this place to Jamie Lannister or Xue Yang, Shen Jiu, The Corinthian, or Sansa Stark. Until I suddenly remembered the one character that I always fall in love with all over again EVERY TIME I watch the movie. How does one make a character(AND AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE MAN THAT IMPRISONS AND TORTURES A POOR ALONE GIRL!) so charming, so charismatic, so lovable that literally everybody who watches the movie falls in love with him? (DID HE GIVE US ALL STOCKHOLM SYNDROME?!)

Also, every word out of his mouth is golden and iconic and delivered with such a unique personality. He's so interesting! He's simultaneously so nerdy and so cool! His actions are so cool and so is his style! And he's the personification of "freedom". In most countries, most of the time, people, each to their own degree, are fighting for their rights and freedom. V represents a universal wish, hope, and fantasy. V is the power of people. The courage, capability, strength, determination, vengefulness, the yearning for justice of tortured but unbent, unbowed, and unbroken people. and So that's a huge part of his appeal.

Also HUGO WEAVING'S RICH VELVETY VOICE!!! GOD!!

Here are the other characters that definitely deserve a place among the top tens but I just don't know who to replace them with because they all also deserve their places:

Xue Yang(Mo Dao Xu Shi/The Untamed): the sassy little adorable delinquent who thought he was at the top of the world doing whatever he liked because he could. and this time he had the power to take his revenge from the world that had him powerless, only to find warmth and peace in the name of taking revenge in the place he least thought, with his enemy and the kid who hated him. Only to find that peace and warmth were what he most wanted. Only to ruin it all irrevocably with his own hands. Only to die in the way of hopelessly trying to get back the one person who showed him genuine kindness and warmth. (also he's a sassy lil shit <3)

Shen Jiu (Scum Villain's self-saving system): The child-abuser scum who was introduced to us as the ultimate villain of the story. Until we learned about his story and how he died cruelly and unforgiven, with his name tainted while he only did some of that™️. While still a bitter man, and a child abuser, his heart wasn't so tainted. But by the time we learn that, he's already dead. With his story unfinished and his heart heavy because he never learned why the only person he deeply cared about left him behind. And nobody even noticed his passing to mourn him. AND EVERYTHING WAS BETTER FOR HIS DEATH!

Jamie Lannister (A Song of Ice and Fire/ Game Of Thrones): How can an author make you stan a character who pushed a little kid, and A POV LITTLE KID AT THAT! down a window because the kid saw he and his sister fuck in the first few chapters?! GRRM SOMEHOW DID THAT! Even if I'm still not very fond of the end of his story in the show, both in the show and in the books, he had one of the best redemption arcs and developments ever. (Though I started to like him when Catelyn told him "You pushed my son out of the window. You wanted him to die!", and Jamie answered: "Nah sometimes I shove kids out of the windows because it's good for their growth." Lmfao. What a little shit!)

The Corinthian (The Sandman): the being hated by his creator because he was so good at what he was created for he transcended the barriers his creator had set for him. so good at his assigned purpose that what he did was beyond his purpose. AND HE WAS SO HEARTBROKEN BY WHAT DREAM SAID TO HIM! And after he was recreated he startet being a babysitter to gain Dream's approval again. it was so sweet!

Sansa Stark (ASOIAF/GOT): from the girl who wanted to get out of Winterfell to follow her dreams to the girl whose dream became to go back to Winterfell, from the delusional little girl who lived in her dreams, waiting for her knight, who learned the cruelty of the world the hard way, to the deliverer of some of the most iconic lines of the show/book like "I'm Sansa Stark of Winterfell. This is my home, and you don't frighten me."/ "My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel." She went a long way and had one of the best character developments. In the book, you can already see her bringing her ladylike behavior and political game that she learned from the best in action to manipulate Hardyng and Robbie. Like Cersei's white mirror. But she still has the kind heart of the girl who once after being attacked by the commoners said that if it was some bread they wanted, she would have given it to them if she had some with her.

Honourable mentions:

Qi Rong (tgcf): my favorite little shit! The best dad! And what @jin-zixun told about his story in the tags of this post really made me emotional!

He Xuan (tgcf): he had so much potential and instead all his life he and his family suffered on someone else's behalf while that someone else stole all his fortune. Then during his revenge plan, he met that person and he learned that maybe had things been different, he would willingly suffered all of the misfortunes of that person's life (the ones that didn't include his family) but as it stood, in this life, they had no chance. And even after his revenge he didn't find any peace and happiness.

Klaus Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy): A sunshine who always lights up every gathering, and is always ready to help others and always sees the good in others!

Five Hargreeves(Umbrella Academy): A murderous, sassy, tiny, bitter grandpa in the body of a teenager who'll do everything for his family! what's not to love!

Nakahara Chuuya (Bungo stray dogs): *Wonder Woman's voice* A BABY! The grumpy characters with golden hearts who always go out of their way to help others and will follow their friends to the end of the world with many, many complaints and screams always have my whole heart!

Dowager Countess of Grantham (Downton Abbey): EVERY LINE SHE SAYS MUST BE WRITTEN IN GOLD! the perfect combination of sass and class! goals!

Fleabag (Fleabag), Thomas Barrow (Downton Abbey): I love cringe-fail hot messes who had no control over many shitty things that happened in their lives and what they could control, they fucked up and now have to deal with their consequences. but still, they push through and try to make the most of it.

Pam Beesley(The Office): the story of this seemingly unremarkable, shy, quiet girl who learns to pursue her dreams, and make opportunities for herself, and speak up for herself was one of the best plotlines of The Office.

Toph Beifong (ATLA), Ranpo Edogawa (BSD): the tiny little extraordinary, extra- competent, reliable, confident, super blunt, lovable cuties always have my whole heart!

Flynn Rider (Tangled) & Nick (Zootopia): still two of my all-time crushes! It's the charm and wit and golden heart while being an outlaw, and supportiveness probably.

Death of The Endless(The Sandman): she's so kind and gentle! Her presence is soothing! And to think that she's death coming so kind, soothing and merciful and as a relief to accompany people on their one last lonely journey is really beautiful!

Delirium of the Endless(The Sandman): she's so broken and mysterious and so desperate for her family to be together! And she sometimes bestows wisdom to others through insanity!

Desire of the Endless(The Sandman): such a mysterious and complex character! They're by nature very cruel. But they're also so loving towards their family. They're there for their family when needed (be it Delirium, Despair, or Dream. Even when Dream didn't want to accept their help they turned into a cat and helped them anonymously). And even in their love they're cruel, and in cruelty, loving.

Nebula(MCU): I loved watching her escape from Thanos's abusive influence and become friends and sisters with Gamora! And her stoic but awkward personality is so lovely!

Cersei Lannister(ASOIAF/GOT): one of the best-written villains ever. She never ceases to be a villain but you really feel pity for her. From the moments she talks about her loveless marriage with Robert to when you learn that she's a pawn for Tywin's plans to the walk of shame to the loss of her children. And her lines are so iconic!

Frodo Baggins (Lord of The Rings): he's so kind-hearted! So sweet! He tried and resisted so hard even though it wasn't his war! He's so underrated!

Mo Ran (Husky and his white cat Shizun): one of the best-written protagonists with a complex, tragic backstory and a lovable personality with a beautiful redemption arc. I loved him both as Taxian-Jun and as Mo Ran.

Chu Wanning(Husky and his white cat Shizun): a multi-layered and lovable character. especially as Xia sini!

Crowley and Aziraphale (Good Omens): my favorite sweet, pure, kind-hearted loser lover boys who keep saving the world by being so incompetent they accidentally get the desired outcome by a series of incompetence that cancel out each other!

Moon Knight specifically Steven Grant (Moon Knight, MCU): I've only watched the MCU miniseries and his story was so heartbreaking! And Steven was so sweet! And seeing Marc and Steven find peace and love together was very beautiful!

Prof.McGonagall (Harry Potter): so sassy, so caring, so steadfastly dependable! From Aunt Hetty and Marilla Cuthbert to Professor McGonagall, I've always loved these types of characters!

Dervish Grady (Demonata), Nanami Kento(Jujutsu Kaisen): it's the caring, dependable mentors that always show up to fix everything and you form a deep bond with them for me.

Sirius Black (Harry Potter): his fiercely loyal, extreme both in love and hate, and unstable personality, his being stuck in more than a decade ago, occupying an uncertain place as a father- figure to Harry and a brother figure to James Potter-...'s son, and devotion to his loved ones, and how he wanted to always be there for Harry in the little time he got with him for all the years he couldn't be have captivated me.

Griffith(Berserk): I'm afraid I'm also experiencing the same obsession with this tragically fallen bitch of a man as Guts continues to feel. He's so well-written and so charismatic, (so obviously in love with Guts) he keeps haunting you. Like I keep being like: "I CANNOT BELIEVE HE WAS THIS MUCH OF A BITCH! HOW COULD HE! FFS! EVERYONE IN THAT BAND WOULD HAVE READILY DIED FOR HIM! THEY WORSHIPED HIM! THEY ENDANGERED THEMSELVES FOR HIM! EVEN AT THAT VERY MOMENT, THEY WERE ALL THERE FOR HIM! HOW COULD HE DO THAT TO CASCA ESPECIALLY!". And then I remember how pitiful his state was before that. He couldn't even kill himself. He couldn't even ask someone to kill him since he couldn't talk or write. And he went from being the next potential king to that state. He was a liability to everyone who looked up to him as a savior. And everything he did, while a horrible shock, was still so in character! He wasn't inherently evil. but he was inherently ambitious, self-centered, pragmatic, and detached... it all just came in service of his dark side after his fall. And he got everything he wanted only to yearn for what he used to have. *sigh* this bitch.

Sorry, it got so long and a lot more than 10! I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters actually lmao!

Thank you for the very thought- provoking question!

[spellbindingnights]

Open to: males and females (+25 years old)

Rules || Banned

Margaret is a republican senator, that is disrupting the political arena, your muse can be anyone that fits: partner, spouse, lover, colleague, a democrat, someone from her team, etc.

"Oh, don't be mistaken. I am a Republican. I believe in market solutions and common sense realities and the necessity to defend ourselves against a dangerous world. Problem is now I have to have such a stunning inferiority complex that I fear education and intellect in the 21st century" Margaret said to the reporters in the press conference room that were absolutely stunned by her answer. "I only seem liberal because I believe that hurricaines are caused by a high baromatic pressure and not by gay marriage. That's all for today, folks, thank you all for coming"

Margaret took the remote and put the tv on mute. "That was a very satisfying ending" she had been seeing her press conference with an incredibly smug smirk. "My fellow Republicans are going to be feral tomorrow" she murmured, resting her bare feet on the coffee table for a moment. She took her glass of wine and sipped it. "I can't wait for the drama" she smirked before turning to the other and crawled over them. "What did you think of it?" She asked, ghosting their lips with hers.

[submissivegayfrenchboy]

04 / 04 / 2024

🇬🇧🇺🇸 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇬🇧🇺🇸

PERSONAL FICTIONAL STORY

A BNWO STORY

- DEODORANTS UNDER THE BNWO -

This story is set in the early years of the New Black World Order. Boubakar was an old black man. Aged around sixty, he had known the world before, and had never wanted to own a white slave. However, as he grew older, he would not have refused a cleaning man to cook for him, or a foot massage in front of the television, or his back because he had aches. But he wanted to do things on his own.

His neighbor across the street had a white slave for every task: a gardener, a cook, a masseur, a cleaner, a sex slave. But Boubakar justified their presence by the fact that his neighbor's family was a large family. And, officially, they were not really slaves, but employees living in the employer's home and receiving no salary, or a very small salary. It was slavery without saying the name.

Boubakar, tall and muscular for his age, was still quite tired, because at 65 he had more difficulty walking. He sat down in his chair, placed his feet painfully on his footrest and turned on the television.

He came across a stupid reality TV show whose concept was simplistic: it was a competition between Black men and white boys, and the goal of the Black men was to enslave the most white boys, the goal of the boys white being to remain free until the end of the adventure. This show was very popular because the white boys conquered during the show had the "right" to remain in the service of the Black man who had conquered them. There were variations of the show with Black women versus white girls, or Black men and women versus white boys and white girls. So, there were Black men who seduced white girls and Black women who seduced white boys. It was a fun and entertaining way to find love or a slave.

Boubakar watched this program until the commercial. Usually he took the opportunity to go get something to drink, since he had no slave to do it for him. However, that day, he saw a different advertisement. We saw an old Black man shirtless in his bathroom, bald with a gray and white beard. He took out a deodorant and lifted his armpit.

THE BLACK MAN IN THE ADVERTISING: "A chemical deodorant? That's not what I want to use anymore. It's not ecological and healthy. But what to take? I found the solution with A WHITE TONGUE."

The old black man raised his armpits and there appeared on the screen a handsome, muscular white man and a beautiful, full-breasted white woman, each with a black necklace around their neck.

THE BLACK MAN IN THE ADVERTISING: “All I have to do is press this remote and the deodorants come on.”

The old Black man pressed a remote control and the white woman placed under his left armpit and the handsome muscular white man under the right armpit began to lick his armpits, then blow on them tenderly.

THE BLACK MAN IN THE ADVERTISING: "And there you have it, thanks to my human deodorants, my armpits have never smelled so good, because their fresh breath lasts a day. Then, I put them away like real deodorants!"

The handsome white man and the beautiful white woman obediently entered a closet, before the old black man spoke to the camera.

THE BLACK MAN IN THE ADVERTISING: “Who said white people were useless? 😉”

The advertisement ended with the addresses of the stores where human deodorants were sold. Interested in the idea of ​​buying a human deodorant because he no longer had normal deodorant, Boubakar left his house.

He gestured to his neighbor, another old Black man, who was reading the newspaper on his patio with a pretty white girl kneeling at his feet to suck his cock, while his sons were having fun whipping the muscular white gardener.

He walked toward downtown and saw several black couples leashing a white male or female slave behind them.

Suddenly, a little white boy, completely naked except for a tiny chastity cage, came up on all fours to sniff her shoes excitedly. Boubakar moved back slightly, but the tiny, thin white boy continued to approach Boubakar's shoes, his tongue hanging out. “At my feet, dog!”, rang out a deep male voice. The little white boy smiled shyly at Boubakar before running towards his master who was holding the leash connected to the human dog's collar on his wrist.

It was then that Boubakar saw Blaise, a tall, rather thin Black man, very well dressed, who was the eldest son of one of his best friends.

BOUBAKAR: “Blaise, I haven’t seen you for a long time! Are you coming to visit your old father?”

BLAISE: “Nice to see you again Mr. Boubakar. Yes, I went shopping for him, it gave me an excuse to walk and take my dog ​​out.”

Boubakar noticed that behind the tall but thin, bald and elegant young Black man was a handsome, very muscular white man, whose only clothing was strappy sandals and a black thong, in addition to a slave collar. He held many, many shopping bags in his hands and on his back, and bowed his head in silence.

BOUBAKAR: “Do you own white people?”

BLAISE: "We have to find a use for them 🤣! I have my own pet dog, and my carrier behind me, whose main function is to carry things. Dad has several, one for each task."

BOUBAKAR: “I must admit that I can get by without it.”

BLAISE: "Really ? 😱 But when you're erect, do you...?"

BOUBAKAR: “Well, I masturbate.”

BLAISE: "I haven't masturbated since I got my own fluffer. But wait, don't tell me you still use toilet paper to wipe yourself after you shit!"

BOUBAKAR: “Yes, why?”

BLAISE: “No one does that these days, white people are made to wipe our asses so we don’t have to!”

BOUBAKAR: “I saw that there was a new way to deodorize your armpits, I plan to buy a human deodorant to start.”

BLAISE: "Ah yes, Dad has already had one for some time, she is very pretty and its tongue is very soft so he uses it to lick his armpits during his nap. And then, buying white ones helps support the economy. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Boubakar, but a slave is waiting in the dungeon for me to whip him."

BOUBAKAR: “He didn’t do anything wrong I hope.”

BLAISE: "No, he just dared to pull his head out of my ass when I farted while he was licking it. I think 100 little lashes should remind him of the honor of smelling Black farts. See you soon, Mr Boubakar !”

The dog barked one last time at Boubakar, and Blaise and his slaves continued on their way.

Boubakar arrived at the deodorant store.

A white butler opened the door for him and bowed his head as he passed. In the past there were guards at the entrance to stores who were Black men, chosen because their strength and skin color inspired fear. Since the establishment of the New Black World Order, Black men were useful elsewhere, so their job as extras was done by white servants.

The store manager, a rather large Black man, welcomed him with open arms. He asked him if he wanted a stool or an armchair. Not knowing what to choose, as he is not used to shopping in town, Boubakar chooses a stool. The chubby Black boss snapped his fingers: a white valet brought two stools, which were actually a little white boy and a little white girl whose arms and legs were folded behind their bodies and their heads were raised. The big Black boss put his huge ass on the young white woman's face as if nothing had happened. Boubakar, who did not have a white slave, hesitated before sitting on the young man's face in a human chair. He wiggled his big ass until his anus was level with the nose of the ugly young man beneath him.

On the walls, posters or video screens represented sublime Black men revealing their armpits, polluted or hairless, but which any white person would be honored to be able to taste.

BOUBAKAR: “Could you explain to me how my deodorant is selected, please?”

STORE MANAGER: "Exactly, sir. You'll have to start by choosing a genre."

Boubakar wanted a white boy.

THE SHOP MANAGER: “And now I will show you the models, which are classified by size.”

In the back of the store there were white boys on one side and white girls on the other, standing completely naked behind sheets of glass, motionless and tied to the wall by their collars and ankle chains. They all had ribbons over their eyes. Docile, like living objects.

THE SHOP MANAGER: “The deodorants are classified by size, because the head of the deodorant must reach the level of your armpits while standing, therefore without having to bend down or stand up to be able to clean them.”

Boubakar looked around and saw a pretty little white boy, quite thin, like all the deodorants were except the plus size models, tall and muscular white men reserved for very tall Black men. The plump boss snapped his fingers and a white employee opened a glass door, unfastened the slave's padlocks and brought him to face Boubakar, whose jacket and shirt had been removed by a white servant. She had placed them on a chair. So, at the boss's request, Boubakar raised his armpit.

THE SHOP MANAGER: "It's simple to use. You press the button on the remote control, and the collar will send the order to the deodorant's brain to open its mouth. The yellow button is for breathing, the green for the tongue, and red to extinguish."

The boss pressed the yellow button and the slave, whose head reached the level of Boubakar's armpit, began to blow on it. His breath was fresh and smelled of flowers.

THE MANAGER: “The mouth of the deodorant only closes if you press the green button for licking or the red button for closing it. Let me show you the licking.”

He pressed the green button and the white boy licked Boubakar's armpit, who enjoyed seeing the soft, long pink tongue of the little skinny white boy licking his stinky old armpits without being disgusted at all.

After five minutes, the manager pressed the red button and the mouth closed. He wanted to explain Boubakar how the slave works.

THE SHOP MANAGER: “The tongues of deodorants are elongated, that is to say, they are longer in order to lick more of the armpit area than a normal human tongue would. Deodorants have been genetically modified by state-certified laboratories. They do not need to be fed, and therefore to do their natural needs. They can live without eating. To keep their breath fresh, be sure to always leave in their mouth one or more tablets, and add more in their mouth as soon as you notice that the tablet has evaporated. Otherwise you can buy the automatic refill, which consists of a headset that inserts a tablet into the mouth of the deodorant as soon as he has finished swallowing the previous one. As you notice, the pastilles are diffused in the mouth, on the palate and in the tongue, in order to maintain fresh breath. You can choose the desired flavors in our store, such as the real deodorants have different scents."

Boubakar kept the current flavor, meadowflower, and bought a reserve of pastilles.

SHOP MANAGER: "One last thing before this deodorant is yours, sir. Would you like a mute or talking deodorant."

BOUBAKAR: “Mute?”

He didn't want to give the impression that he was unfamiliar with this type of transaction, but Boubakar had to admit that never having owned a white slave made him feel a little old-fashioned.

THE BOSS OF THE SHOP : "We can take away his ability to speak, so that he is a real object, or program him phrases like "Thank you Master" or "Your armpits are delicious, Master", if you like flattery."

BOUBAKAR: “I’ll keep it as it is, thank you.”

The deodorant was delivered to Boubakar's house an hour later, in a box opened before his eyes to confirm the product. Boubakar leaned towards the white slave from whom he removed his mask covering his eyes.

The young boy had never seen men, since he was born to be a living deodorant. When he saw his owner, the small, skinny white boy immediately fell madly in love with the old black man.

The white boy must have licked his armpits while he took his nap.

For several days, Boubakar used his slave only as a deodorant, making him blow it on his armpits in the morning before locking him in a closet until the next morning.

Taking advantage of having a white slave, Boubakar decided to eventually use him as a household slave, teaching him how to do household chores. The slave and the master thus became closer, because Boubakar, alone and lonely, began to talk more while having the company of his cute little white boy, while the slave felt protected by this physically impressive but old Black man. very kind, cuddly and tender who taught him so many things.

Over time, the slave also had to blow his cool breath on the master's long stinking feet to freshen them, or lick them to clean them of their sweat. He had to do the same with the equally sweaty and smelly big ass of his owner with whom he was secretly madly in love.

As he grew older, the old Black man became more and more gassy, ​​and his farts became more and more stinky. After each fart released, sometimes on his son's face or rather chest, Deo had to blow his flowery breath on the stinking asshole to refresh it and make the putrid anus smell like roses. His white boy was not a human but was truly a useful living object for whom Boubakar had a lot of affection.

Old and alone for a long time, the Black man who could have been the boy's grandfather also fell in love with his slave. He behaved towards him like a father, protective and teaching him things, both so that he could serve him but also so that they could discuss together.

His daily nap of several hours allowed him to have his ass licked by the young white man, but also of course his armpits since the old man maintained an athletic physique by practicing sporting activities which made him sweat. Fortunately, when he returns, his human deodorant will clean him with his breath once he has taken a shower.

Deo had to keep his mouth closed, or rather he couldn't open it until Boubakar pressed the remote control that opened his mouth. He therefore had complete control over this white slave.

Nevertheless, he valued his education, taught him the history of black people in America, other black populations but particularly Africa. Like a schoolboy, Deo raised his hand for permission to ask questions. Boubakar taught him the fascinating history of Africa, the different countries, their landscapes, their Kings and Queens,...

Deo was fascinated by Boubakar's culture, which taught him to read and speak with books about Africa, and also to use as a personal reader while he relaxed.

Boubakar had no expense in feeding the slave, who only had to stay at his master's feet and blow on him under the table while he ate. No expense on clothes either, Deo's pretty little skinny body - as its owner had renamed it - was thus available for the caresses of the old Black man.

He only made one expense: the helmet which put a tablet in the slave's mouth so that Deo's breath was perpetually fresh and smelled of flowers. That's why he often kissed his little white boy who smelled good.

The old man demanded that his slave blow on his feet during his sleep, or in his big ass which he had to lick regularly during the night because he sweated quickly.

Madly in love with each other without telling each other, the master and his slave now welcomed Boubakar's friends into his home, and they were finally on an equal footing with Boubakar now that he also owned a white man.

Boubakar had his feet, ass and armpits licked in his garden, visible to his neighbors.

The world was so much better with the enslavement of white people, because natural resources were better shared, white people were in their place.

END OF THE STORY

My previous story about an old Black man worshipped during the BNWO

I was inspired by an advertisement where you see a Black man using a deodorant 😊

There is a lot of advertisements with Black men, i think it's because they are so hot 🥵

________________________________________

🇫🇷 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇫🇷

HISTOIRE FICTIVE PERSONNELLE

HISTOIRE DE L'ORDRE MONDIAL NOIR

- LES DÉODORANTS HUMAINS -

Cette histoire se situe dans les premières années du Nouvel Ordre Mondial Noir.

Boubakar était un vieil homme Noir. Âgé d'une soixantaine d'années, il avait connu le monde d'avant, et n'avais jamais voulu posséder d'esclave blanc. Néanmoins, vieillissant, il n'aurait pas refuser un homme de ménage pour cuisiner pour lui, ou un massage des pieds devant la télévision, ou du dos car il avait des courbatures. Mais il voulait faire les choses par lui-même.

Son voisin d'en face avait un esclave blanc pour chaque tâche : un jardinier, un cuisinier, un masseur, un nettoyeur, un esclave sexuel. Mais Boubakar justifiait leur présence par le fait que la famille de son voisin était une grande famille. Et, officiellement, ils n'étaient pas vraiment des esclaves, mais des employés vivants au domicile patronale et ne percevant aucun salaire, ou un très petit salaire. C'était un esclavage sans en dire le nom.

Boubakar, grand et musclé pour son âge, était quand même assez fatigué, car à 65 ans il avait plus de mal à marcher.

Il s'assit dans son fauteuil, posa péniblement ses pieds sur son repose pieds et alluma la télévision. Il tomba sur une émission de télé-réalité débile dont le concept était simpliste : c'était un concours opposant des hommes Noirs à des garçons blancs, et le but des hommes Noirs était d'asservir le plus de garçons blancs, le but des garçons blancs étant de rester libre jusqu'à la fin de l'aventure. Cette émission était très populaire car les garçons blancs conquis au cours de l'émission avait le "droit" de rester au service de l'homme Noir qui les avait conquis. Il existait des variantes de l'émission avec des femmes Noires contre des filles blanches, ou alors des hommes et des femmes Noires contre des garçons blancs et des filles blanches. Ainsi, il y avait des hommes Noirs qui séduisait des filles blanches et des femmes Noires qui séduisait des garçons blancs. C'était une manière ludique et divertissante de trouver l'amour ou un esclave.

Boubakar regarda cette émission jusqu'à la publicité. D'habitude il en profitait pour aller se chercher à boire, puisqu'il n'avait pas d'esclave pour le faire pour lui. Or, ce jour-là, il vit une publicité différente.

On voyait un vieil homme Noir torse nu dans sa salle de bain, chauve avec une barbe grise et blanche. Il sortit un déodorant et souleva son aisselle.

L'HOMME NOIR DE LA PUBLICITÉ : "Un déodorant chimique ? Ce n'est plus ce que j'ai envie d'utiliser. Ce n'est pas écologique ni sain pour le corps. Mais quoi prendre ? J'ai trouvé la solution avec UNE LANGUE."

Le vieil homme Noir releva ses aisselles et apparurent à l'écran un bel homme blanc musclé et une belle femme blanche à la poitrine généreuse, avec chacun un collier noir autour du cou.

L'HOMME NOIR DE LA PUBLICITÉ : "Je n'ai qu'à appuyer sur cette télécommande et les déodorants se mettent en usage."

Le vieil homme Noir appuya sur une télécommande et la femme blanche placée sous son aisselle gauche et le bel homme blanc musclé sous l'aisselle droite se mirent à lécher ses aisselles, puis à souffler dessus avec tendresse.

L'HOMME NOIR DE LA PUBLICITÉ : "Et voilà, grâce à mes déodorants humains, mes aisselles n'ont jamais senti aussi bon, car leur haleine fraîche dure une journée. Ensuite, je les range comme de vrais déodorants !"

Le bel homme blanc et la belle femme blanche sont docilement rentré dans un placard, avant que le vieil homme Noir s'adresse face caméra.

L'HOMME NOIR DE LA PUBLICITÉ : "Qui a dit que les Blancs étaient inutiles ? 😉"

La publicité se termina par l'adresse des boutiques où étaient vendus les déodorants humains.

Intéressé à l'idée de s'acheter un déodorant humain car il n'avait plus de déodorant normal, Boubakar sortit de chez lui. Il fit signe à son voisin, un autre vieil homme Noir, qui lisait le journal sur sa terrasse avec une jolie fille blanche agenouillée à ses pieds pour sucer sa bite, tandis que ses fils s'amusaient à fouetter le jardinier blanc musclé.

Il marcha en direction du centre-ville et vit plusieurs couples Noirs tenant en laisse derrière eux un esclave blanc, homme ou femme.

Soudain, un petit garçon blanc, entièrement nu à l'exception d'une minuscule cage de chasteté, arriva à quatre pattes pour renifler ses chaussures avec excitation. Boubakar eut un léger mouvement de recule, mais le tout petit garçon blanc et mince continuait de s'approcher des chaussures de Boubakar, la langue pendante.

"Aux pieds, chien !", retentit une voix grave masculine. Le petit garçon blanc sourit timidement à Boubakar avant de courir vers son maître qui tenait au poignet la laisse reliée au collier du chien humain.

C'est alors que Boubakar vit Blaise, un grand homme Noir plutôt mince, très bien habillé, qui est le fils aîné d'un de ses meilleurs amis.

BOUBAKAR : "Blaise, je ne t'avais pas vu depuis longtemps ! Tu viens rendre visite à ton vieux père ?"

BLAISE : "Ravi de vous revoir Monsieur Boubakar. Oui, j'ai été faire des courses pour lui, ça m'a donné un prétexte pour marcher et sortir mon chien."

Boubakar remarqua que derrière le grand mais mince jeune homme noir chauve et élégant se trouvait un bel homme musclé très musclé, dont les seuls vêtements étaient des sandales à lanières et un string noir, en plus d'un collier d'esclave. Il tenait de très nombreux sacs de courses dans ses mains et sur le dos, et baissait la tête en silence.

BOUBAKAR : "Tu possèdes des Blancs ?"

BLAISE : "Il faut bien leur trouver une utilité ! J'ai mon propre toutou de compagnie, et mon porteur derrière moi, dont la fonction principale est de porter des choses. Papa en a plusieurs, une pour chaque tâche."

BOUBAKAR : "Je dois t'avouer que je m'en sors sans."

BLAISE : "Ah bon ? 😱 Mais quand tu es en érection tu....?"

BOUBAKAR : "Eh bien, je me masturbe."

BLAISE : "Je ne me suis plus masturbé depuis que j'ai mon propre suceur. Mais attends, ne me dis pas que tu utilises encore du papier toilette pour t'essuyer après avoir chier !"

BOUBAKAR : "Si, pourquoi ?"

BLAISE : "Plus personne ne fait ça de nos jours, les Blancs sont fait pour essuyer nos culs afin qu'on ait pas à le faire !"

BOUBAKAR : "J'ai vu qu'il y avait une nouvelle façon de désodoriser ses aisselles, je compte m'acheter un déodorant humain pour commencer."

BLAISE : "Ah oui, Papa en a déjà une depuis quelque temps, elle est très jolie et sa langue est très douce alors il l'utilise pour lécher ses aisselles pendant sa sieste. Et puis, acheter des blancs permet de soutenir l'économie. Bon, ça m'a fait plaisir de vous croiser, Monsieur Boubakar, mais un esclave attend au dongeon que je le fouette."

BOUBAKAR : "Il n'a rien fait de mal j'espère."

BLAISE : "Non, il a simplement oser retirer sa tête de mon cul quand j'ai pété pendant qu'il me le léchait. Je pense que 100 petits coups de fouets devraient lui rappeler l'honneur de sentir des pets noirs. À bientôt !"

Le toutou aboya une dernière fois vers Boubakar, et Blaise et ses esclaves continuèrent leur route.

Boubakar arriva à la boutique de déodorant.

Un majordome blanc lui ouvrit la porte et courba la tête à son passage. Autrefois il y avait des gardes à l'entrée des magasins qui étaient des hommes Noirs, choisis parce que leur force et leur couleur de peau inspiraient la crainte. Depuis l'instauration du Nouvel Ordre Mondial Noir, les hommes Noirs étaient utiles ailleurs, donc leur métier de figuration était fait par des valets blancs.

Le gérant de la boutique, un homme Noir plutôt gros, l'accueillit à bras ouvert. Il lui demanda s'il voulait un tabouret ou un fauteuil. Ne sachant que choisir, car peu habitué à faire les courses en ville, Boubakar choisit un tabouret.

Le gros patron Noir claqua des doigts : un valet blanc apporta deux tabourets, qui étaient en fait un petit garçon blanc et une petite fille blanche dont les bras et les jambes étaient repliés à l'arrière de leur corps et la tête était relevée. Le gros patron Noir posa son énorme cul sur le visage de la jeune femme blanche comme si de rien n'était. Boubakar, qui n'avait pas d'esclave blanc, hésita avant de s'asseoir sur le visage du jeune homme chaise humaine. Il remuant son vireux gros cul jusqu'à ce que son anus soit au niveau du nez du jeune homme moche sous lui.

Sur les murs, des posters ou des écrans vidéos représentaient de sublimes hommes Noirs dévoilant leurs aisselles, pollues ou imberbes, mais que n'importe quel blanc serait honoré de pouvoir goûter.

BOUBAKAR : "Pourriez vous m'expliquer comment se fait la sélection de mon déodorant, s'il vous plaît ?"

LE GÉRANT DU MAGASIN : "Tout à fait, monsieur. Vous devrez commencer par choisir un genre."

Boubakar voulait un garçon blanc.

LE GÉRANT DE LA BOUTIQUE : "Et maintenant je vais vous montrer les modèles, qui sont classés par taille."

Dans l'arrière boutique se trouvait des garçons blancs d'un côté et des filles blanches de l'autre, debout et entièrement nus derrière des plaques de verre, immobiles et attachés au mur par leurs colliers et des chaînes aux chevilles. Ils avaient tous un ruban sur les yeux. Dociles, tels des objets vivants.

LE GÉRANT DE LA BOUTIQUE : "Les déodorants sont classés par taille, car il faut que la tête du déodorant arrive au niveau de vos aisselles en étant debout, donc sans avoir à se baisser ou à se lever pour pouvoir les nettoyer."

Boubakar fit le tour et vit un joli petit garçon blanc assez fin, comme l'étaient tous les déodorants à l'exception des modèles grandes tailles, des hommes blancs grands et musclés réservés aux hommes Noirs de très grande taille.

Le patron rondouillet claqua des doigts et un employé blanc ouvrit une porte en verre, détacha les cadenas de l'esclave et l'amena face à Boubakar, dont la veste et la chemise avait été retiré par une servante blanche. Elle les avait posé sur une chaise.

Alors, à la demande du patron, Boubakar leva son aisselle.

LE GÉRANT DE LA BOUTIQUE : "L'usage est simple. Vous appuyez sur le bouton de la télécommande, et le collier va envoyer l'ordre au cerveau du déodorant d'ouvrir la bouche. Le bouton jaune sert pour le souffle, le vert pour la langue, et le rouge pour éteindre."

Le patron appuya sur le bouton jaune et l'esclave, dont la tête arrivait au niveau de l'aisselle de Boubakar, se mit à souffler dessus. Son haleine était fraîche et sentait les fleurs.

LE GÉRANT : "La bouche du déodorant ne se referme que si vous appuyez sur le bouton vert pour le léchage ou rouge pour la fermer. Je me permet de vous montrer le léchage."

Il appuya sur le bouton vert et le garçon blanc lécha l'aisselle de Boubakar, qui aima voir la douce et longue langue rose du petit garçon blanc maigre lécher ses vieilles aisselles puantes sans être dégouté du tout.

Au bout de cinq minutes, le gérant appuya sur le bouton rouge et la bouche se ferma.

LE GÉRANT DE LA BOUTIQUE : "Les langues des déodorants sont allongés, c'est-à-dire qu'elles sont plus longues afin de lécher plus de surface d'aisselle qu'une langue d'humain normal ne le ferait. Les déodorants ont été génétiquement modifiés par des laboratoires certifiés par l'État. Ils n'ont pas besoin d'être nourris, et donc de faire leurs besoins naturels. Ils peuvent vivre sans s'alimenter. Pour maintenir leur haleine fraîche, veillez à toujours laisser dans leur bouche une ou plusieurs pastilles, et rajoutez en dans leur bouche dès que vous constatez que la pastille s'est évaporé. Sinon vous pouvez achetez la recharge automatique, qui consiste en un casque qui insère une pastille dans la bouche du déodorant dès qu'il a fini d'avaler la précédente. Comme vous le remarquez, les pastilles se diffusent dans la bouche, sur le palais et dans la langue, afin de maintenir une haleine fraîche. Vous pouvez choisir les saveurs désirés dans notre boutique, comme les vrais déodorants ont des parfums différents."

Boubakar conserva la saveur actuelle, fleur des prés, et acheta une réserve de pastilles.

LE GÉRANT DE LA BOUTIQUE : "Une dernière chose avant que ce déodorant ne soit à vous, monsieur. Désirez-vous un déodorant muet ou parlant."

BOUBAKAR : "Muet ?"

Il ne voulait pas trop donner l'impression de ne pas connaître ce genre de transaction, mais Boubakar devait avouer que n'avoir jamais posséder d'esclave blanc le faisait sentir un peu démodé.

LE PATRON DE LA BOUTIQUE : "Nous pouvons lui retirer l'usage de la parole, pour qu'il soit un vrai objet, ou lui programmer des phrases comme "Merci Maître" ou "Vos aisselles sont délicieuses, Maître", si vous aimez les flatteries."

BOUBAKAR : "Je le garde tel qu'il est, merci."

Le déodorant fut livré à la maison de Boubakar une heure plus tard, dans une boîte ouverte sous ses yeux pour effectuer la confirmation du produit.

Boubakar se pencha vers l'esclave blanc à qui il retira son masque lui couvrant les yeux.

Le jeune garçon n'avait jamais vu d'hommes, puisqu'il était né pour être un déodorant vivant. Lorsqu'il vit son propriétaire, le jeune garçon blanc petit et maigre tomba immédiatement fou amoureux du vieil homme Noir.

Le garçon blanc a dû lécher ses aisselles pendant qu'il fit sa sieste. Pendant plusieurs jours, Boubakar n'utilisait son esclave que comme un déodorant, lui faisant souffler sur ses aisselles le matin avant de l'enfermer dans un placard jusqu'au lendemain matin.

Mais, après quelque temps, il décida de l'utiliser d'une autre manière. Il lui fit souffler et lécher ses longs pieds suants et fatigués, puis il lui fit faire pareil avec son gros cul.

Profitant d'avoir un esclave blanc, Boubakar décida de finalement l'utiliser comme esclave ménager, en lui apprenant comment faire les tâches ménagères. L'esclave et le maître se sont ainsi rapprochés, car Boubakar, seul et solitaire, se mit à parler davantage en ayant la compagnie de son mignon petit garçon blanc, tandis que l'esclave se sentait protégé par ce vieil homme Noir physiquement impressionnant mais très gentil, câlin et tendre qui lui apprenait tant de choses.

Avec le temps, l'esclave a aussi dû souffler son haleine fraîche sur les longs pieds puants du maître pour les rafraîchir, ou les lécher pour les nettoyer de leur sueur. Il devait en faire de même avec le gros cul également suant et puant de son propriétaire dont il était secrètement fou amoureux.

En vieillissant, le vieil homme Noir était de plus en plus gazeux, et ses pets étaient de plus en plus puants. Après chaque pet lâché, parfois sur le visage ou plutôt le torse de son fils, Deo devait souffler son haleine fleuri sur le trou du cul puant pour le rafraîchir et que l'anus putride sente la rose. Son garçon blanc n'était pas un humain mais était vraiment un objet vivant utile et pour qui Boubakar avait beaucoup d'affection.

Vieux et seul depuis longtemps, l'homme qui aurait pû être le grand-père du garçon tomba également amoureux de son esclave. Il se comportait avec lui en père, protecteur et lui apprenant des choses, à la fois pour qu'il le serve mais aussi pour qu'ils puissent discuter ensemble.

Sa sieste journalière de plusieurs heures lui permettait de se faire lécher le cul par le jeune homme blanc, mais aussi bien sûr les aisselles puisque le vieil homme conservait un physique athlétique en pratiquant des activités sportives qui le rendait transpirant. Heureusement, à son retour, son déodorant humain le nettoyer avec son souffle une fois sa douche prise.

Deo devait garder la bouche fermé, ou plutôt il ne pouvait pas l'ouvrir tant que Boubakar n'appuyait pas sur la télécommande qui ouvrait sa bouche. Il avait donc tout contrôle sur cet esclave blanc.

Néanmoins, il tenait à son instruction, lui appris l'Histoire des Noirs d'Amérique, des autres populations noires mais particulièrement de l'Afrique. Comme un écolier, Deo levait la main pour la permission de poser des questions.

Boubakar lui apprenait l'Histoire passionnante de l'Afrique, les différents pays, leurs paysages, leurs Rois et Reines,...

Deo était fasciné par la culture de Boubakar, qui lui apprenait à lire et à parler avec des livres sur l'Afrique, et aussi pour l'utiliser en lecteur personnel pendant qu'il se détendait.

Boubakar n'avait pas de dépense à affaire pour nourrir l'esclave, qui n'avait qu'à rester aux pieds de son maître pour souffler dessus sous la table pendant qu'il mangeait. Pas de dépense non plus des vêtements, le joli petit corps maigre de Deo - ainsi que l'avait renommé son propriétaire - était ainsi disponible pour les caresses du vieil homme Noir. Il ne fit qu'une dépense : le casque qui mettait une pastille dans la bouche de l'esclave afin que l'haleine de Deo soit perpétuellement fraîche et sente bon les fleurs. Ainsi il aimait être embrassé par lui.

Le vieil homme exigea de son esclave qu'il souffle sur ses pieds durant son sommeil, ou dans son gros cul qu'il lui fallait régulièrement lécher durant la nuit car il suait vite.

Fou amoureux l'un de l'autre sans se le dire, le maître et son esclave désormais accueillaient les amis de Boubakar chez lui, et ils étaient enfin à égalité avec Boubakar maintenant qu'il possédait lui aussi un blanc.

Boubakar se faisait ainsi lécher les pieds, le cul et les aisselles dans son jardin, visible par ses voisins.

Le monde allait tellement mieux avec la mise en esclavage des blancs, car les ressources naturelles étaient mieux partagés, les Blancs étaient à leur place.

FIN DE L'HISTOIRE

Ma plus récente histoire sur un vieil homme Noir vénéré durant le Nouvel Ordre Mondial Noir

J'ai été inspiré par une pub de déodorants

Il y a de nombreuses publicités de déodorants avec des hommes Noirs 🥰

_________________________________________

@mrjamborn @blackmansbitch @bnwo @blkpimp79-blog @bnwoserverworld @blackmasculinitywhitefemininity2 @blacknewlife @blackworldwhitepeople @bmwusa @interracialcaptions @blackmenbestlovers @rainykpoptravelcreator @innerpiratefun @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @tidodore2

[prgayfootluvr77]

Dane Rupert, Big Brother Canada, 2013

Follow him on IG:

[jazzytrait]

So... Emilee needs to put herself out there more. She did what most people do in a new town: she got an app. Basically... I WANT YOUR SIMS. More info below the cut.

Now, I know a lot of people gameify these things like reality shows. I don't watch reality shows... so I have NOT ONE SINGLE IDEA of how that works. Sorry.

Still, we can have fun doing this the old fashioned way. What will happen: 1. I'll load all the potential matches into the game and stick them all on a single lot in the neighborhood. (sucks to be them) 2. One at a time, I'll have them go one dates with Emilee. 3. We'll check their first impressions and see how they get on. (There will be no selfie with interactions - that's basically cheating.) 4. If it goes well, they'll get a second date. 5. Whoever has the highest combined relationship (friendly + romantic) at the end of 3 dates, will get to start dating her officially. 6. Aging will be temporarily turned off so we can get this done properly. About Emilee: 1. Favorite Movie: Get Him to the Greek 2. Favorite Radio Stations: Blues, Spooky and Alternative 3. Favorite TV Show: Community 4. Likes: extreme sports, the smell of fresh laundry, street food, the sound of snow crunching beneath her feet, mystery novels, sketching, painting, snowboarding, rock climbing, hiking, cooking 5. Dislikes: rom coms, slugs, people who chew with their mouth open, wet socks, gummy bears 6. Goals: Enjoy life to the fullest. She's not entirely sure if she wants a family just yet. She's got too much to do before she adds kids to the mix. 7. Career: Freelance artist / Yoga instructor

What Emilee is looking for: 1. Can have cc (please include with files) - Maxis Match or Maxis Mix 2. Male or Masc Female young adults only 3. Any traits 4. I may make tiny adjustments to fit my defaults and preferences. 5. I'm only accepting up to 8 sims (because more than that is just too much.)

How to apply: Tag me in a post with your sims' picture and info. I'd like to know: 1. traits 2. zodiac (for the lols) 3. short backstory 4. skills, likes/dislikes 5. hobbies 6. short "About Me", etc. Once I have all the sims for the dating to start, I'll make a big post with all their Simdr profiles based on the info you give.

Entrants: 1. Leonardo "Dodo" Harper by @akitasimblr 2. Arati Narang by @m0ckest 3. Devon Hearn by @challengedsimmer 4. Isaac Flores by @sweetestsimvotion 5. Sloane Huxley by @piinkplumbob 6. Cyrus Huxley by @piinkplumbob 7. Omar Murphy by @simsinfinitylt 8. Cassandra by @wastelandwhisperer

[beardedmrbean]

The United Kingdom wing of U.N. Women faced backlash after announcing that a pro-Palestinian transgender model would be its "champion" of women. 

Munroe Bergdorf was selected as the first U.N. Women U.K. Champion in November. However, 17 women's groups took notice and penned an open letter Jan. 2 expressing concern about the appointment. 

"The female population of the UK is more than 33 million, yet you have ignored every one of us and chosen a male," the letter, addressed to U.N. Women executive director Sima Bahous, the U.N. Women executive committee and the U.N. Women U.K. Committee, said. 

LEFT-WING ACTIVIST 'SHOCKED' IN VIRAL VIDEO AFTER FAILING TO RECRUIT PRO-PALESTINIAN MUSLIM SUPPORT FOR LGBTQ

The letter was signed by groups such as Fair Play For Women, LGB Alliance, Sex Matters and Women’s Declaration International – U.K. 

"Munroe Bergdorf’s well-publicized activism is not pro-women," the letter continued. 

Other critics, such as Douglas Murray, blasted the main U.N. Women group for yet another example of bad decision-making by the international body. 

"Seems to be this group has a problem with... reality," Murray said on Talk TV. Murray also raised concern about how U.N. Women dragged its feet for nearly two months before explicitly condemning Hamas' brutal rape of women. 

ISRAELI POLICE SAY EXTREME SEXUAL VIOLENCE, RAPE BY HAMAS TERRORISTS WAS SYSTEMATIC

Bergdorf, a pro-Palestinian activist who has posted messages such as "Gays 4 Gaza," "Dykes for a free Palestine," and "Queers for Palestine," has called for a "ceasefire," an end to Israel's national security response to Hamas' terrorist attack and invasion on Oct. 7.

The qualifications for becoming a "champion" for U.N. Women U.K. included, "someone who has made incredible contributions to gender equality and the rights of women, girls."

"Working with the U.N. has been a personal ambition and dream of mine. It’s a responsibility that I don’t take lightly," Bergdorf said in the interview with Attitude. "I will use this role to further advocate for the progress, safety, inclusion and empowerment of ALL women and girls, of all communities and identities."

"I will continue to draw attention to the systemic and social impact of misogyny, transphobia and gender-based inequality within the UK – In order to help provide data and insight that contributes to forming tangible methods of tracking and countering it," Bergdorf added. 

U.N. Women U.K. didn't immediately respond for comment. 

[cantsayidont]

ÉLITE (2018–2024): Trashy, high-gloss Spanish soap opera about students at posh private high school Las Encinas, initially a mix of rich brats and social-climbing scholarship students, whose conflicts result in murders, near-fatalities, and mysterious disappearances: Each of the first five seasons is framed by a police investigation of the latest casualty, a gimmick that really only works in the first season (where it provides a degree of narrative structure and gravitas that would otherwise be lacking).

Even in its best moments, the show's relationship to reality is never strong, and it's sometimes rather witlessly hypocritical (for instance, the narrative is capable of recognizing the injustice of the school forcing Palestinian scholarship student Nadia (Mina El Hammani) to remove her hijab in class, but not enough to not indulge in its own array of islamophobic cliches in its depiction of Nadia's conservative working-class family). Nonetheless, the show gets by for a surprisingly long time on the strength of its cast and direction, buoyed by a welcome refusal to descend into self-mockery even when the plot leaves the rails. None of the male characters is especially endearing, with Itzan Escamilla (as scholarship student Samuel) becoming particularly insufferable and Miguel Bernardeau (more recently the lead on the disappointing 2024 ZORRO show) a little too convincing as rich dickhead Guzmán, but the girls are consistently more interesting, with Mina El Hammani (as Nadia), Ester Expósito (as morally compromised aristocratic rich bitch Carla), and Claudia Salas (as the salty Rebeka, whose mother is a drug dealer, and who ends up one of the show's most genuinely sympathetic characters) making the strongest impressions.

It's not until the sixth season, with all the original cast gone (several of them feet-first), that ÉLITE starts to feel like it's overstayed its welcome, with some flailing attempts to examine serious themes like abusive relationships tripping over the increasingly orgiastic celebration of wealth and privilege (any interest in characters who aren't filthy rich having departed with the last stragglers from the original cast). Although more visually stylish, it feels like it's become a different, much weaker show, and the writers seem to no longer grasp the distinction between "entertainingly messy bitches" and "grating assholes who are no fun to watch"; by the seventh season, there isn't a single character interesting or sympathetic enough to sustain the plot's frequent lurid detours into cloud cuckoo land. (It does at least have the decency to throw one of its most hateful recurring characters off a roof at the end, which I appreciated.)

The forthcoming eighth season will be the last, but Season 7 was already at least two too many, IME. CONTAINS LESBIANS? One of the boys from the early seasons has two moms, but while there are a surprising number of acknowledged mmf and mmm triads, it's not until the fourth season that there are really any wlw relationships among the principal characters, and they always remain distinctly secondary to the boys. VERDICT: More enjoyable than it has any right to be, at least for a while, but its watchability begins a marked decline after the fourth season, and the sixth and seventh seasons are no longer much fun even as trash TV.

[greensalvation]

TIFFANY VALETINE ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕

blood play. knife play. death. NSFW content. kind of detailed. no protection + male reader. I may make this a real fanfic. ITS POSTED COMPLETED ON AO3. ✶ REQUESTED by a friend.

It was around 1 o'clock and you were hiding away the body of a police officer behind a garbage bin in one of Hackensack's various alleyways. Tiffany was in the car cleaning her nails from the cops' blood stashed underneath them. You never understood why she would kill people unnecessarily as this cop had no suspicions about the two of you. You supposed she had gotten nervous and wanted to make sure it was all okay. The cop was originally searching for a missing person. Tiffany did have something to do with it but the cop was on his leave when y'all confessed to just being a couple on their way from California to see their relatives for the holidays as Halloween was only a week away. As the adrenaline wore off, you couldn't help but feel a mix of guilt and fear. Tiffany, on the other hand, seemed strangely unfazed, her eyes gleaming with a sense of twisted satisfaction. It became clear to you that her darkness ran deeper than you had ever imagined. As you reflected on the events that had just unfolded, you couldn't help but question your own judgment and the choices that led you to this point. You realized that your connection with Tiffany was built on a foundation of deceit and violence, and you couldn't help but wonder how far you were willing to go to keep her twisted secrets. As you stood there, contemplating the situation, you realized that the best course of action would be to leave the area immediately and lay low for a while. You needed to ensure that there was no evidence linking you or Tiffany to the crime, and that meant avoiding any further interaction with law enforcement or anyone who might raise suspicion. It was time to disappear, at least for now. " I think we should leave," you said, practically running back to the car. Your back hit the back seat and the door swung shut loudly behind you. "Alright," Tiffany replied, putting her middle finger into her mouth and getting rid of the last of the blood.

The crime wasn't too far away from where you drove. Since you had trouble concentrating on the road ahead of you, you drove only a few miles away. It was impossible to stop picturing the cop's face when Tiffany slit his throat. The amount of blood that pooled out of him and splattered on your shoes and lower pants leg shocked you. The movies never pictured it as being as grotesque as it actually is. You lay your head back on the seat and immediately set it back forward out of fear your neck would be slit just like his. It's not like you didn't trust Tiffany you did as she hasn't laid a hurting hand on you in years. You just disliked how you could feel your neck stretch back. "Oh, come on. You said you were tough," she remarked, her voice tinged with both mockery and challenge. As she spoke, you couldn't help but recall the time you had confessed your feelings for her. Back then, you had confidently claimed that you could handle anything she threw at you. Her words now echoed in your mind, reverberating through every corner of your brain, making it hard to formulate a response. "I can," you finally managed to say, your voice steady but your heart racing. "I just didn't expect it tonight." The reality of the situation was harsh. She had killed before, but never this close to you. This time, you were so near that the spatter from the violent act had reached you, staining your clothes and bringing the grim reality of her world into sharp, undeniable focus. You looked around and noticed that the only person nearby was a drunk, hunched against the wall a few feet down the alleyway where you had parked to hide the car. You wondered if he would be a victim of Tiffany's as well but quickly shoved that thought out of your mind. "Probably can't even hold the knife steady," she teased, a slight jab at her comment making your eyebrows twitch. She had always tried to get you to kill someone: a nurse, a mailman, even one of her escorts. Every time you refused, she got mad, called you a coward, and did it herself, later claiming it was an accident of their own fault. You couldn't deny the adrenaline coursing through your veins now, making you want to get up and kill the poor guy outside the car. The thought made your heart beat faster with anticipation. You snuck a glance in the rearview mirror, only to see the drunk was no longer there in his previous spot. Suddenly, you heard a banging on the car; the drunk was hitting and yelling at you two from outside the car. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but it sounded like he mistook you for someone he knew. You took a moment to fully take in his features. He had a rough patchy beard, his eyes were baggy and he had drool slipping out of his mouth with each word he said. Tiffany looked at you expectantly and held out the small knife she had used to slit the cop's throat earlier. "Kill him," she said, her eyes piercing yours with a seriousness you had never seen before.

FINISHED ON AO3 - SEARCH THE ACC "greensalvation" to see the full fic or click the link I added on this post.

[startinglights]

I was watching a reality tv show on Netflix (the thing is called dated & related 💀) and got hit by a vision.

It's one of those dating reality tv shows where everybody is straight to the point where it's painful. They're all arranged in pretty little pairs, claiming they're here to find love but they just want the money and the followers.

Anyway Max is part of the male contestants, trying to find somebody he doesn't mind maxplaining to, lounging in the pool, missing his video games mostly.

A week later or something when there's new contestants Daniel enters the villa. And Max gets the wind knocked of him a little bit, he flinches on camera. But. It's okay, it's normal, probably he's worried that the girls he's been talking to will prefer Daniel.

They end up hanging out together a lot, they get on well. Max is gonna end up with very visible abs from laughing that much. They go on a double date together and they are flirting with the girls but. Their feet are touching under the table. Daniel puts sunscreen on Max before he passes out on the loungers while Daniel's in a floater playing with his stupid sunglasses for the girls to giggle.

Boys&girls pairs come and go and Max is beaming off camera because Daniel made a sex joke that can definitely NOT be aired.

They both go quite far into the show. Max bc surprisingly the girls like him, he's no bullshit and won't do petty drama kissing other people and whatnots. On the other hand the fact that he's so brutally honest gets him into fights and he brings audience so the production loves it. And Daniel obviously is so charming & funny & ridiculous he's a fan favorite, they won't vote him out, he'll win the show probably.

Then Daniel wins some kind of challenge and he can choose one person to go on a date with. Everybody except him to choose that one girl he's often with because he's not seriously looking at anybody else and she thinks they're a couple (Daniel's just staying with her because it's convenient, easy, her bff on the show is always hanging out and flirting with Max so he can be near him unsuspiciously). And so Daniel has to choose, he's facing all of them but he's only looking at Max. And then he decides "fuck it" and on fucking live TV he says: I'll take Max with me. For the date. And everybody think it's a joke and they're laughing weirdly like when the situation is inconfortable. But it's not. It's not a joke. And then they're all shocked but Max is just smiling and starting into Daniel's eyes and then they go.

(Waaaay after when they get married the production call them to make a show on their wedding process. Max has never hanged up so quickly.)

I would read 70k of that but I would NOT write it 😭

.