#skinny men are lovely too but to say that women don’t like chubby men??? fuck off fr

[welcometojackass2022]

Not only was bam an asshole for fat-shaming his friends, but his opinions were also just objectively wrong. Telling his friends that girls don’t like chubby guys or guys with a little bit of belly?? acting like girls only want super thin or super muscled guys??? WRONG. LAME. INCORRECT. NOT TRUE. I’d SHOVE Bam to the ground to get to Lord Bottaro when he was fat for Minghags. I’d DROP KICK bam across a soccer field to cuddle with Frantz when he was chubbier back in the day. I’d PUNCH bam in the gut AND knee him in the balls to get to current day Rake with his cute ass dad belly. Fuck bam and fuck his opinions

[limeade-l3sbian]

Hey. I don’t know if you remember me, but a few weeks ago I sent an anon to you where I was basically lamenting feeling worthless or something of that similar tone. That I was going to die of obesity and I saw no out of the end where someone would have to look at my dead body in disgust.

You came with some nice and encouraging words.(thanks for that btw again)

Today I was out for the first time in a long time. I was visiting the psychiatry department in my city, and had a scheduled taxi to collect me when I had to go home. When I got into the car and for 95% of the car ride, the taxi chauffeur was nice. He and I was talking about video games. Both coincidentally had an interest. It was a decently friendly time filler convo. However when the conversation naturally came to a halt, silence followed and he suddenly said, while I could see out of my peripheral view him looking me up and down with a smirk, “did you ever do sports? it certainly doesn’t seem like it”. It was such a blow to the stomach. I know men are gross and value women solely for our appearances, I know men are callous and most often incapable of being empathetic, but after such an otherwise nice convo, the knowledge that he had most likely been thinking “wow what a fat piece of shit she is” the whole time was so heartbreaking. I barely go out, I keep to myself, I’m not very confrontational, i was polite the whole drive. And yet, that’s what he said to me in the end.

This is why I feel hopeless. I always always be my body and I will always o my be offered respect by the vast majority of the world if i’m skinny and pretty.

Good to see you again, anon! 💜

I think maybe two weeks ago, I had a man swerve to the curb to drive along side me. I had my music in and was walking with my arizonas, so didn't respond since I was clearly occupied. But he kept following, leaning out. I glanced at one point to make sure he wasn't trying to be helpful but could hear what he was saying through my headphones. Including him cursing at me before finally driving off in his clown car.

Whether they're flirting, insulting, "negging", or just really talking in general, it's important to understand that men's words mean literally nothing. I can't describe to you how little they matter. How much are you thinking they mean? Well it's less than that and so on. Very often, I believe men have a word quota that they feel they must fulfill, and so terrorize the women around them with meaningless strings of sentences regarding what they prefer and how they feel about certain things. More often than not, unasked.

Men also don't cut their dogs' balls off as not to "emasculate" them. Is that a collection of people you want to listen to? These same people have convinced you that not being thin and not being pretty is a death sentence when it's not. I've been chubby my whole life and still had meaningful, loving relationships. You're absolutely right. You will always be in your body. You cannot change that. So you might as well start getting comfortable in there and figure out if you want the couch more to the left or more to the right because that's your home. Your headquarters where you can head back after a long day and plan your next scheme to _______ (whatever your schemes may be, we've all got em lol).

You can't keep gauging your worth on the opinions of others, babes. ESPECIALLY MEN, COME ON BESTIE. Doing that just about killed me, literally. I'm not saying it'll be overnight, but that dam of self doubt and disgust will break. You're gonna be staring at the wall and come to that crossroad, bc the way things are isn't sustainable.

Am I going to sink and let the void swallow and define me? Or pull back and say "fuck it" and tell the next male who can fix his lips to say some shit like that to me that he can go fuck himself?

Easier said than done, but trust me, I got there and you can too. 💜

[adventures-with-ana]

— More to Love —

Chubby!Bucky Barnes x OFC // 1518 18+ only, minors dni; mentions of fat shaming, oral (m receiving)

Informing one Bucky Barnes that being bigger than your average twink doesn’t make him any less sexy.

I picked the absolute best time to enter our bedroom again. The sight that greeted me made me quiver in inappropriate places. Bucky was standing with nothing more on his body than a little scrap of white underwear - that wasn't exactly leaving anything to the imagination - and looking at himself unhappily in our full length mirror. Despite his own expression, my eyes raked over his body appreciatively. God he was gorgeous.

The look of discontent on his face was concerning though. Why was he looking so upset while he looked at himself? Why was there anything but a beautiful smile on that beautiful face? I had to find out, had to know what was making my love look grumpier than the day we ran out of the special Christmas themed creamer that was his favorite. That was his definition of a tragedy, so what was causing this one?

"Hey sexy," I called out to him, leaning against the door frame and giving him an appreciative smirk when he turned to look at me. "I gotta say, I love you in that outfit."

His eyebrows knit together again. "I don't," he replied sourly.

I dropped all the posturing and playing at once. He was very clearly upset and I didn't like that. I approached him with a frown of my own, resting a hand against his cheek. "Baby, what's wrong?"

For a brief moment he leaned his cheek into my touch, but then he turned away from me. Pushing my hand from his face and looking at the mirror, before casting his eyes to the floor. "I've gotten fat," he replied in a quiet whisper.

He was so quiet I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. He'd gotten fat? I looked over him again. Perhaps that was true, in the purely clinical sense of the word. He was not as trim and well cut as a high dollar steak, instead he looked like an actual human being who didn't live, breathe, and poop nothing but regurgitated gym bullshit.

I said nothing and he looked back at me like he was expecting some kind of response. "Oh, sorry, did you want me to spew some bullshit as if I think being fat is a flaw?" I ask him, a little bluntly.

He blinked at me in surprise. He didn't seem overly fond of the word 'fat', and I blamed that on the society we lived in that told us being fat was an insult instead of an adjective. "Do you not see that I am fat?"

I made a point of looking over his body again, which was a mistake. His broad shoulders looked like they could hold up the sky, his arms were toned and muscled to help, and I'd ridden his thighs enough to know those were truly the most powerful muscles on his body despite what everyone else said about how they would prefer his metal arm. I'd ridden that, too, and let me tell you a thing about that arm: IT'S FUCKING COLD! You want to ride the Winter Soldier's arm? Just get an ice pack and stick it in your panties. You won't know the difference.

I stepped up, putting myself between the mirror and Bucky, and placing my hands on his stomach. "Baby," I pouted at him a little, "what's got you feeling like this?" I questioned. He tried to turn his gaze away from me but he wasn't going to escape that easily. "What happened?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath, whether he was trying to calm himself or work up the courage to speak I couldn't tell. Perhaps it was a mix of both. I hated it. What I hated more was the things he confessed to suffering through. Verbal abuse from men who thought their gym memberships made them gods, women who thought their penchant for skinny white meat was the standard all men should live by. It was cruel and I wanted to kick all their asses for making the man I love doubt himself so bad that he genuinely thought I deserved 'better'. 'Better' here having the meaning of 'thinner', which was bullshit.

"Then yesterday," Oh good, there were more horrible people. I was glad my snide remarks were silent as Bucky continued talking. "I grabbed a snack after my jog," typical news. He always rewarded himself with a little snack before coming home. He earned it. "And some lady..." He couldn't even make himself repeat whatever horrid thing he was told.

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Baby, absolutely none of that is true." He didn't exactly look convinced though. "You went for a jog yesterday, right?" He just nodded solemnly. "So you go for a little two mile jog -" that was his definition of a jog. Anything less than two miles was a jog, everything after was a run. "- and you're going to listen to the opinion of a woman who spends five minutes on an elliptical and gets a fruit smoothie?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up and I knew I was making my argument stick. "Between women who don't know what real cardio is and men who spend so much time at the gym they probably don't even know their own mothers name anymore, I'd say that's not a list of people you should even pay attention to."

He raised his gorgeous blue eyes to look at me, and despite him fighting it off I could see the beginning signs of tears threatening to spill over. "I love you," he breathed quietly.

"I love you," I returned, kissing his lips. "But now," I said, pushing his shoulders back just a little. "Now I've got this huge problem." He questioned me on what kind of problem I could be having at a time like this, and I chuckled. "Well, you see," I continued, putting my hands on his stomach and starting to push him back towards our ready and waiting bed. "Now I've got to remind my man of how sexy he is."

"Is he though?" Bucky asked, and in a beautiful moment of instant karma he fell right on his ass into bed as his legs hit the frame.

I smirked at him. "He is beyond sexy," I confirmed, leaning in to capture his lips in a steamy kiss.

I took my time reminding Bucky that every single ounce and millimeter of him was absolutely perfect. Kissing all over his neck and collarbone, leaving hickies in my wake, paying extra gentle attention to his beautiful tummy. Little kisses and licks everywhere, tracing my own meaningless patterns into his skin until he bucked his hips up into me with need.

I smirked. "Is there somewhere else that I should pay attention to?" I taunted in a husky, seductive voice. Kissing farther down his stomach until I got to the waistband of his underwear.

He was already hard and I took that as a sign that I had done a good job of easing his insecurities. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, grinning as he lifted his hips enough to allow me to slide the fabric down his thighs. His hardness sprang free and I couldn't stop myself from giving a little teasing lick to his head as I pulled his underwear completely off of his legs.

"You know," I mused, slowly taking him into my hand and ever so slowly pumping him once; just to tease. "If we're gonna talk about anything that's fat around here," I continued to speak and pump him slow and steady-like. "This is the only thing on my list."

He let out an animalistic groan when I circled my lips around his leaking head. "Baby," he moaned; a breathy, needy sound that turned me on even more than I already was.

"Tell me what you want baby," I told him, brushing my fingers across his stomach while licking him from base to tip.

He pushed his hips up at me with a pathetic whine that was so desperate and needy I wished I could have recorded it to play on a loop. "Want you to suck me," he breathed again.

"Yeah?" I questioned, running the tip of my tongue over his slit. "Want me to suck you off?" I asked, enjoying hearing him moan. "Good," I teased him with a kiss to his shaft, "Cos I wanna suck this fat cock until you come."

"Jesus Christ," he moaned.

I needed no further encouragement as I took him fully into my mouth, using one hand for what didn't fit, and putting my other on his stomach. He was not going to think poor thoughts of himself anymore. He was going to know that regardless of what other people thought, regardless of what they saw, I would only ever see my love. And I would love him any and every way I could have him. I would always be happy to be right here for him: on my knees, making him feel as good as he looked.

[gotnofucks]

What do you think Lee or other Seb and Chris characters would be like with a tall, slim and very uncurvy woman? Like only a couple of inches shorter than them, and she never feels feminine enough or sexy enough for them?

We'll start this by establishing that every person is pretty regardless of their body type. Tall, short, chubby or skinny, different complexion and smooth or furry.

As a short girl, this is for my tall skinny sisters who have a difficult time loving themselves:

Warning: sometimes dark themes, allusions to smut, possessiveness, body image issues, breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

+++++

Steve Rogers: The Avengers Charity ball was a big event and though Steve hated the public attention, he's excited to do this with you. You've been dating a few months and coming out in public was something Steve was looking forward to.

He had decorated your neck with marks to show the world who you belonged to. The territorial captain was itching to claim you in front of the world when you told him you'd rather not go.

"What?" He asked, "Why not?"

You bit your lip, shifting on your feet as you looked at him.

"It's nothing...just don't feel like it" You mumbled.

"Is it because we're going to fast? You don't wanna tell the world about us?" Steve asked and you frantically shook your head.

"No, Stevie." You took a deep breath. "It's just...you're Captain America. The people expect you to be with a womanly woman, someone who complements you. I am...me. Tall, not large enough boobs, my ass is skinny and -"

You would have went on had Steve not pulled you in by your waist and crushed your mouth to his. You kissed back, running your hand through his soft hair before he pulled back, panting.

"Are you kidding me? You're listing everything I love about you. I don't have to bend down to kiss you, you breasts feel perfect in my hands and that ass? Baby, that ass is so perfect if people knew the thoughts I get when I see it, they'll douse me with holy water. Captain America doesn't need a womanly woman to compliment him. You’re not my arm candy, I am yours because you’re the perfect one. You get me?"

Choked up with tears you nod, letting him tuck your head in his neck.

Bucky Barnes: He's been looking at you for weeks, just the way you've been looking at him. During training, he makes sure to stay behind you, correcting your posture by putting his hands on you.

For someone who'd lived more than a century, Bucky Barnes had no patience anymore and he promptly sat down his ass in front of you, making you stop mid-chew.

"Why haven't you asked me out on a date yet?" He asked you, the red Henley he wore stretching across his broad chest. You swallowed quickly, sputtering.

"Sargent?" You squeaked, unprepared to be accosted like this.

"I want you, you want me. We've practically been eye fucking each other for months. Why haven't you asked me out yet?" He snapped.

You bite your lip before wetting them with your tongue, unsure how to say this.

"You...you don't wanna go out with some other agent? Maybe Shally?" You asked and winced when he scowled at you. "I'm only saying this 'cause she has you know, a better body. She's...prettier?"

In this moment you realised how scared Bucky's enemies may feel on the battlefield because the expression on his face had you terrified. And turned on.

"You fucking with me doll? I don't want her. I love your body. You're almost my height, think of how easy 69-ing would be! You're perfect in every way. The way you kick those men's asses in the gym...fuck I always need a cold shower after that."

Your mouth dropped open and a small smile lit your face.

"So, you don't mind me being strong and lean and not... feminine?" You asked tentatively and Bucky smirked.

"Come into the bedroom with me and I'll show you how feminine you can be" He challenged.

Really, who were you to say no to him.

Ransom Drysdale: Heels. He got you fucking 6-inch heels. You were nearly his height, already being taunted by your friends for this. And he got you heels.

"Ransom, take them back. You know I don't do heels." You say and he scoffs, pushing them back at you.

"Like shit you don't do them. I want to see you in them, and wear that lingerie I got you." He orders and you frown.

"No Ransom, I just - I don't like them." You said and he turned away from his phone to raise an eyebrow at you.

"I've seen you eyeing that flimsy scarp of fabric for weeks in the mall. You like it, now wear it for me so I can admire it on you." He said.

You finger the delicate material of the bra and panty and wondered how amazing it would feel against your skin. But then you looked at the small size and squeezed your eyes shut. There was a reason you insisted Ransom turn off the lights when you fucked.

"I like them. Just...not on me" You whispered. A finger pulled your chin up and you met Ransom's blue eyes, his gorgeous face peering into you like you were the dumbest person he knew.

"The fuck?" He asked, a warning growl in his tone that had you rubbing your legs.

"Ransom...I'm...not made for these. These heels, I'll be taller than you. I don't have the body to make this gorgeous lingerie come to life. You...I don't want you to see me like that." You say, almost tearing up.

Ransom looked livid for a moment before he gently stood you up, shushing your protests as he one by one stripped you naked. You looked down, ashamed of yourself as he forced you into the tall heels, his head now below yours.

"Look at me" He rasped and you obeyed. His eyes went from your head to down, appreciatively over your breasts and flat stomach and then to the vee between your thighs.

"You're perfect." He said, head dipping only a little to suck a nipple in his mouth. "Perfect figure, perfect face, perfect height. You're the only perfect thing I have in my fucked up life."

You put your hands on his shoulder to stable your wobbling feet, and he held you close.

"Wear this lingerie. I want to tear it off your body with my teeth. And the lights stay on today."

Lee Bodecker: You pushed down on your skirt again, hiding your thin legs the best you could. The demure and pretty girls in the neighborhood snickered as you passed by them, their necklines supporting a beautiful cleavage.

You walked into your home and quickly got to making the dinner. While you didn't look like a normal lady, you were one. You could cook and clean and your daddy hoped that would be enough to get you married and off his hands.

You got dressed for you knew there would be guests tonight and tied your apron around your narrow waist, serving the food on the table for your father and the Sheriff. He came in his uniform, the hat set down on the table and eyes that followed you.

It was no surprise when he cornered you later after your father was drunk and passed out. His hardness dug into you, sweet breath on your face and nose rubbing against yours.

"Where you been all day sweetheart?" He asked, hands groping you like they'd done a thousand times before. You whimpered, tilting your head to allow him access to your neck.

"Shopping for the dinner. Daddy doesn't like stale food." You say and Lee bites you.

"What've I told you about calling him daddy in front of me? I'm the only daddy ya need." He scolded. You waited for his kiss, lips puckered when he stilled. His hands were on your breasts and he paused, reaching inside despite your protests to pull out the rolled up cloth inside.

"What the fuck is this?" He angrily asked and you hid your face in embarrassment. You were tired of having small breasts, tired of not being as pretty as others.

"Just..I wanted more meat on me." You said sullenly and Lee twisted his face in a scowl, pulling you forward with your hair.

"You're not doing this shit again. You want big fucking breasts then ask me to put a baby in you and I will. You want more meat on your body then I'll fuck a child in you right now. You get me?" He snarled and you nodded, clinging to him.

"I...I am sorry. I wanted to be pretty for you." You sob and Lee pulls you closer, taking your hands and pressing them in his belly.

"Sweetheart, you are fuckin' gorgeous. My pretty girl. Daddy's best girl. You don't need more meat. I already got enough for both of us. Kay?" He asked and kissed you deep.

Andy Barber: You hid your insecurities well. Andy didn't give you a reason to have many. He loved you, you knew that. But sometimes, you wondered if he'd have preferred a more bountiful booty to hold at night.

When you tried to eat a little extra than your stomach permitted and puked the next day, he sat you down and asked point blank what was wrong. It was difficult to lie to him, not only because he was a great lawyer but because Andy knew you too well to not know when you're hiding something.

"I wanted to gain some weight I suppose." You said. Andy titled his head, eyes going over your body before he frowned.

"But you're perfect" He said, as if confused. "You can't overeat baby. Talk to me, what's wrong?"

You bit your lip. Dating Andy was daunting. He was someone who had lines of woman waiting to warm his bed. You were surprised when he asked you out, you of all the other softer women. You, your flat figure of the other hourglass ones.

He was an alpha, he was the master. He would have looked so good next to a timid, tiny girl who would easily fold into his body for warmth. And yet, here he was with you.

"I have long legs" You blurted and didn't look at him. "I am taller than almost all women here, I don't have a plump ass you can bounce quarters off and definitely not a chest that is spilling out. I don't know Andy, I...I am not enough I guess."

You wanted to cry after admitting this and maybe you would have had Andy not knelt before you and cupped your face to kiss you deeply.

"Oh honey, you silly thing. You're more than enough. Absolutely stunning." He whispered. He trailed his hands up from your ankle to your thighs and you stifled a moan.

"Your legs are long, and I love them. So much length to run my tongue on" He continued. "You ass may not bounce quarters, but it bounces my balls well when I'm fucking your from behind. And your breasts better not be spilling anywhere, they are mine. The only thing they need to spill is either my seed or the milk that'll be in there after I breed you. You understand?"

Heat rose up from your chest to your neck and ears, eyes watering with love and desire. You put your long legs on Andy's shoulder and hugged him with your thighs, asking him softly to show you his praises again.

[ihatebnha]

With the beauty stuff going on here- think Bakugo and Shoto (maybe Shinso?) would comfort their s/o in regards to not entering certain clothing stores? I can't go into a lot of them because all/the majority of their clothes are for skinny/petite women and I can't fit into it. Plus, with all the good looking girls who work in those stores I can't help but compare myself and see the trash I am. Sometimes I get physically sick if I walk into the stores because its so overwhelming. Sigh. Wish those boys would be a comfort, but they'd probably just be awkward or break up wif me. Especially explody boy.

Legend... the only thing that’s trash here is your garbage attitude! I wanna let you know that I’m on the tubbier side, too... so when you say you’re trash, you’re calling me trash, too... and I honestly don’t like that nor do I agree... (and trust me, I hate fitting rooms too... why do you think i only wear pajamas all the time?)

because the truth is...YOU’RE NOT! You just live in a world that favors conventionally attractive and skinny people over everyone else. Obviously it isn’t bad to be either of those things, but we all have a duty to work hard at rewiring our brains to reevaluate society’s sense of beauty (esp since its very eurocentric, too). 

it’s also funny you sent me this because I honestly believe that all the boys in bnha like chubby girls (but ofc they don’t discriminate)! im very genuine when i say that EVERYONE is their ideal type, and i could honestly talk for hours about how they’re too busy being heroes to give a crap about petty things such as looks and weight. 

the truth is, “real men” (and real partners, for that matter) don’t care if you’re heavy, have beauty marks, anything, so therefore... the bnha boys dont mind those things, either. 

plus lmfao... todo, bakugo, and shinso are all actually in my top list of chubby chasers soooo (although im biased and think every character is on that list tbh)... 

none of them would break up with you for your insecurities! They of all people understand what it’s like to be ashamed of things (as Bakugo faces feelings of inferiority, Shinso has his quirk, and Todo’s family is bananas), so they would only want to comfort you if you ever expressed your concerns. 

Not to mention, they all seem like the type to be in a relationship for the long haul... So if they’re already dating you, it means they’re in it FOR LIFE🤞🏻

Which is why, none of what you do could ever bother them... and as for comforting... 

I don’t think either Bakugo, Todo, or Shinso are really going to notice if you don’t want to or can’t go into certain clothing stores. They’re heroes (and boys for that matter💀) with a lot on their mind, so if you mention you don’t like shopping somewhere, they’re just going to assume that you either don’t feel like it or it’s not your style. 

Their heads don’t really connect your insecurities with your shopping preferences, simply because they assume you already know what you like to wear and where you like to shop.

In Shinso’s case, while I can see him picking up on some of your subtleties, such as avoiding certain stores and/or sections, he’s probably not really going to think it’s a serious issue or bring up the topic unless you initiate the conversation yourself, mostly because he (doesn’t want to be at the mall) assumes you already know that he likes your body and really doesn’t care what you wear. 

That being said, when you are in fitting rooms together, he gets pretty handsy even before you start getting frustrated by things. Definitely distracts you from doing anything by whistling at you or grabbing at your thighs and pulling you between his legs from where he sits on the tiny stool they’ve provided... Also probably puts in some effort beforehand too, helping you pick out things that he likes and are more likely to fit in the first place.  

Bakugo is pretty similar to this, as well. With his parents working in the design industry, he definitely has a good eye for sizing and can help you pick out the most accurate things for your body type. He’s actually really useful because you can hold up anything, and he’ll generally have a pretty good idea on whether the style will suit you or not, and if it’s in the right size. This makes trying things on a bit more bearable, as you honestly end up fitting everything you bring into the changing room. 

He’s also good to shop with because he’s probably not gonna let you go to any shitty clothing stores either... So wherever you end up going is probably gonna have better stuff that’s in every size, anyway (it’s literally like 2200 and people have quirks... you can’t tell me stores would have things for literally every shape). The nice thing about this too is that everything you end up getting is super comfortable for that exact reason. 

Definitely can stay pretty serious in the dressing rooms... but you have to be careful because the moment you guys get home he’s gonna be horn-nee. 

Todoroki, on the other side of all of this, is literally motherfucking useless. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be comforting, it’s just he really just doesn’t put the puzzle pieces of your insecurity together AND thinks you look good in everything, regardless... so even if you tried to explain why you hate shopping, he’s just like “but everyone has things they don’t fit?” 

HOWEVER..... the redeeming quality about him is.... HE IS RICH!!! And probably grew up with a tailor, and/or at least a family stylist, so once you’re in with him, he just adds you onto the bill for that, too. Say goodbye shopping, hello to having clothing that fits you shipped right to your door... (and Todo just loves staring at you while you get measured for outfits). 

SO.... sorry for my earlier harshness... it’s just because I love and care about you sooooo much!! as well as understand what it’s like to feel like a freak in forever 21... 

ANYWAY... here’s just some little things I wanted to include, too! 

-

I used to think that Bakugo wouldn’t have a preference for thick girls, but then I saw this tik tok that was like, “my attractive friends always ask me where all the hot and fit boys are.... in these guts bitch” and my perspective changed entirely... I just know a beefy boy like him who has a mean mommy LOVES curves... like you can’t tell me he doesn’t see your belly and absolutely melts... like that shit is straight FAXXXXXXXXXXX no printer... (i also saw a tik tok today that was like, “would you fuck me if i was skinny? and the person said “i would fuck you right now.” and tbh that’s big baku energy LOL) 

Todoroki also definitely gives me vibes where if you’re like, “but i look ugly in ____,” he’s just like, “doesn’t matter, it’s you.” AND YES TBH i cried

AND shinso... god tbh shinso is the guy that all your friends are jealous of bc he’s the one who’s like, “I like my women with meat on them” because he doesn’t believe in skinny culture or diets... he wants you chubby bc chubby just kinda looks more correct.... tbh king shit

[dusksmote]

Do you know of any other good South Park weight kink stories? I can’t find any besides yours

thanks for asking, this actually brings up something i’ve been wanting to talk about since june of last year. i’ll answer you in a second, but first i wanna talk about weight kink

specifically, the distinction between preference, kink, and fetish (and how it fits into ETL/WTSAU)

when i first wrote ETL my intention was to not fetishize kyle’s weight (though some people have anonymously accused me of doing so) while still making it clear that stan finds him sexually attractive. it’s a hard line to toe, partially because you can’t avoid describing his body when stan’s looking him over. i call this the ‘stan gaze’ and i talk about it more in this post.

so i’m describing kyle and the fact is he’s fat. he’s not chubby or chunky, he’s fat. and i don’t want to be shy about that. i have to show that stan finds these parts of him sexy, maybe not in a conventional way, but i don’t want to skirt around it. his body has rolls and stretch marks and cellulite (which for the record is more common in women but men can get it too) and stan likes all of it. he finds it hot that kyle has to work to get his pants up cuz his ass is amazing. he likes how soft he is because it’s more fun to squeeze and how kyle weighs into him when they cuddle or fuck. that shit butters was on about is for fucking real. 

have you ever hugged a fat person? it’s amazing. there’s a lot of appealing aspects to having a partner who is big.

part of the problem though is there’s a general lack of content involving fat characters depicted as sexually attractive, so it instantly comes off as deviant. stan brings this up a bit in ETL chapter 2. you can talk about how a chick has nice tits and a curvy figure and shapely legs and no one gives a shit. you can describe a man’s muscles or his tall, lanky once-ler body and no one bats an eye. i think a lot of people were initially shocked in ETL cuz the same thing is happening to kyle but it’s not something they’re used to, and that raises eyebrows. culturally we’re conditioned to think being overweight is unattractive, or only attractive in certain ways--but definitely not sexually appealing.

but the truth is--and something i’ve learned first hand since posting this series--there’s a lot of fucking people who aren’t opposed by weight, or have preferences for bigger partners. and i think that’s great!

so what does that make it?

i mentioned before the difference between preference, kink, and fetish. truthfully, when i began writing, i myself wasn’t totally sure on the distinction. i knew i didn’t want to fetishize kyle, so i did some research.

a preference is just that. something that is nice to have and one would prefer, but not a necessity. a kink is something which arouses you but is considered outside of the sexual norm. a fetish is a sexual necessity, without it you are unable to become aroused.

you could argue a lot of the guys in ETL/WTSAU have weight kinks because they think kyle is hot, but that’s only because being attracted to someone overweight is not considered part of our culture’s ‘norm’. i don’t personally see it this way because i don’t think it’s actually that abnormal. cultures shift, and it wasn’t until recently being thicc came into vogue (or rather, people were finally able to admit they like fat asses, come on). a great number of people around the world are overweight and they find love and have sex no problem. it’s not that strange.

the guys DEFINITELY have a preference though. stan and butters are great examples. they’ve both had partners who are thin and fat, without issue (except that one time stan wasn’t interested in wendy, but that’s because he was developing feelings for kyle). butters summed it up in ETL chapter 2, “fit fellas are fine but big boys just fuck harder”. they don’t need their partners to be overweight to love and be attracted to them, stan would still love kyle if he were skinny, but it’s a nice bonus and they enjoy it. 

no one in ETL/WTSAU has a fat fetish however. the best way to explain it would be if stan was only attracted to kyle because he was fat. someone online once described it: imagine you have a thing for shoes. with a shoe preference, the shoe is an accessory to your partner. when they wear it it excites and appeals to you, but you’re still attracted to them without the shoes on. with a shoe fetish, your partner is an accessory to the shoe. you only feel attracted to them when they wear them. feels kind of dehumanizing, eh? 

i hope it’s clear, stan loves kyle for more than just his looks, but he also thinks kyle is hot as fuck 😂 and if stan can enjoy it, the reader can too

it makes me sad that almost half of the bookmarks for ETL/WTSAU are hidden, because i have to assume it’s cuz people feel ashamed for liking that one fanfic where kyle is fat and they shouldn’t be. kyle’s hot, embrace it B^)

-

so to answer your post, i know a few fanfics that have fat characters who can get it. i haven’t read any that are fetish fics though (i know they exist).

first is Being Thin Is For Conformists by orphan_account. i love this fic! it’s michael x pete and pete is overweight. it has a strangely similar plot to ETL chapter 4, but i promise i didn’t read this fic until like last month XD. for some reason it’s tagged “weight gain” and “feeding kink” but neither happen in the story? idk why it’s not tagged right, the actual story is very sweet

next is Get Off At the Right Stop by YZYdragon2222. it’s not finished yet, but it’s a cartman x butters fic where butters (spoilers) has some opinions about cartman’s rotund figure. imo, every fanfic with a cartman ship should have him be unapologetically fat 😤 he can get it

another fic with fat kyle i’ve read is That Shampoo Bottle Kid by orphan_account. kyle’s pining for stan and masturbates to the thought of him. i found this one maybe a month or two after writing ETL and never bookmarked it so i can’t say it’s a favorite but hey it’s fat kyle B^)

[imnotwolverine]

Nerdflirt

Henry Cavill x reader twoshot (1/2)

Word count: 2.768

Disclaimer: tiny, tiny hint of fluff

Summary: There’s apparently a bit more involved than just paint and innocent flirting, when you meet a stranger on Instagram with a shared hobby. 

Find the second part here.

This story is based on a prompt I received from @aestheticqueenb

(Link to my Masterlist)

‘Maybe, you can like…I don’t know…find some new hobby or something?’

Your friend had said it more as an after thought during your Zoom chat, but here you were. Thinking yet again if she was perhaps right. A new hobby. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to find some diversion in these strange times. Like. You had ordered some of these picture paint books for adults since they were all the rage, but you had grown bored of them again.

Heck. You had even asked your boss if you could help him out while stuck at home. But apparently the restaurant business was really on its ass and you’d just have to wait for things to settle down and regulations to become less restricting.

This whole COVID-19 thing had initially seemed like a bit of a fad. Like some sick joke that nobody stopped at the right time. It was just a fever, right? Well, apparently…it wasn’t. You could still remember the moment all too well when you were sent home, told to wait for news. Hours passed. Days passed. Weeks passed. But there was no sign of things soon to improve.

And thus you resorted to adult colouring books and sulking away on your desk chair.

Stretching out you pushed the chair away from your desk, the tiny wheels immediately halting as you bumped against your bed. Oh yes, it was also good to mention you were slowly losing your mind because your studio apartment was SOO friggin’ small you couldn’t stretch as much as a foot without bumping into a piece of furniture.

Not a problem when you have a social life. But very much a problem when you hadn’t. Usually you worked a lot, went out with friends, enjoyed to go for a run. And home? Home was just a conveniently placed bed in the middle of London.

Now, however, it was a constricting prison that seemed to strip away your sanity piece by piece.

As had become second nature by now you opened your phone, fingers automatically refreshing the front news page. Scroll, scroll, scroll. No new news. Then your e-mail. No new e-mails. Then perhaps look for some “inspiration” - whatever you needed that for - on Pinterest? Scroll, scroll, scroll. Okay, no, this is dumb. Going back to the mainscreen your thumb hovered over the Instagram button. 

You honestly didn’t like the app much. Fake people. Fake fun lives. It just wasn’t your cuppa tea. And yet you never got so far as deleting it since you did enjoy seeing baby pictures of your baby niece.

Okay, fine, maybe there were some new pictures or something. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do and so you opened the app, only to be confronted with a somewhat confusing image. What’s this? A large pair of hands painting an absolutely tiny polystyrene figurine. Why is this on your timeline? Your eyes gazed up, even more confused when you read the name “Henry Cavill” above it. Pfft. Probably some attention whoring from another bored superstar. You shook your head and scrolled on, eventually giving up again.

You groaned, feeling the abyss of utter boredom suck you in once more, your eyes wandering to the world outside. It was sunny, a spotless blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Hilarious, ain’t it? It’s nice weather out in the UK and guess what? You’re stuck inside because the whole world is in lockdown.

So…now what? You just had lunch, your apartment was pristinely clean and you already went for a run this morning. You sighed and turned your chair back so you could awaken your trusty old friend again. Your laptop. Perhaps Google something random? See what you find? The internet’s your friend, right?

Open. Google. 

You bit your lip, thinking of something. Anything. But your mind was a blank.

Hmm. Oh. You know what. Maybe it’d be fun to know what kind of fake nerd Henry Cavill actually was.

You opened Instagram again and, of course, his post was back on the top of the timeline. It was almost too easy. #GamesWorkshop #ProperGeek #Custodes. Hmm, probably one of those three tags were the secret. You decided to enter “custodes”, since it sounded the least familiar and hit enter.

Before long you had dived head first into the miraculous world of Warhammer miniature strategy boardgaming and the most ludicrous, but fascinating lore. There was a medieval variant, a sci-fi variant and some ancient Rome and English civil war stuff. All including a well-thought out background story and even more figurines then you could count. Pretty cool figures too, you thought, haphazardly clicking on “order” while scrolling through one of the webshops.

Like it contained some kind of bomb, the mailman sprinted off, leaving the small package behind while you opened your door. Fuck this corona crisis. You couldn’t even..greet the fucking mailman.

Picking up the package you carefully moved it to your desk. Would they be fragile? How tiny could tiny really be? There was only one way to find out, you decided, picking up a pair of scissors and cutting open the small brown box.

Well. Okay. That’s tiny. Tiny tiny tiny. Perhaps you had been a bit too over enthusiastic about just randomly picking up a new hobby. Like..did you even need like special paint for this? Carefully you placed the kit sheets with the hundreds of tiny pieces in them on your desk and bit your lip, deciding what you’d do next. Tiny heads, guns, wings, all stuck in a meticulously thought out grid. Where to start? Perhaps look for some inspiration? Tips and tricks?

The internet is your friend.

Silly as it was you ended up scrolling through Instagram again, this time on the profile of some “SirEltharin” who posted daily updates on his miniature painting. And just like you, he had bought the Retributor Squad from the Adepta Sororitas, the all-female fighter division that were also known as “The Sisters of Battle”. Just thinking how ridiculous that sounded made you chuckle. Were you a nerd too now? Perhaps.

He just posted something new you noticed.

‘These ladies are hard to tame! Oops, painting accident..’ He posted, along with a picture of some smudged paint on one of the figurines. You chuckled, commenting without much of a second thought.

LadyGrim - ‘Well at least you started..I just can’t get myself to paint :X’ - 1 minute ago SirEltharin - ‘No need to be Grim, good Lady. What’s keeping you from starting?’ - 2 seconds ago

Hmm. He responded immediately. A smile reached the corners of your lips as you shrugged and typed again.

LadyGrim - ‘Painters limbo? No honestly it’s my first set and I’m out of my depth here.’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Well if large male hands can do it. Surely a Lady can do it too? ;)’ - 30 seconds ago

LadyGrim - ‘Size can be deceiving.’ - 2 seconds ago

Your eyes rested on the screen for a bit, hoping he’d respond, but eventually giving up. Your eyes turned towards the sheets with the figurine parts on the other side of your desk.

Welp, it’s not like anyone could judge you for trying, right?

You painted that whole day, finding it nerve wrecking and meditative all at the same time. You hadn’t even noticed that it was past dinner time, until your stomach really started to growl with hunger.

After cooking yourself a simple pasta dish you sat back on your desk chair, forking the pasta into your mouth while opening your phone to check on any news updates. No news. Mail. No mail. Pinterest? Skip. Instagram. Heck, why not.

*New message from SirEltharin* Hmm. A private message. You didn’t even know that you could send private messages in Instagram, but alas, perhaps you were just a failed millennial.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey :) Guess what? I totally screwed up that figurine and have to do it all over again. Started any painting yet?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Perhaps you gave me all your good luck? Just started and..maybe..it actually starts to look pretty cool?’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Which one did you start with?’ - 2 seconds ago

Damn, guess it wasn’t just you who was bored to bits. This guy was one fast responder.

LadyGrim - ‘The one with the book? At least, I think…. So many parts..’

SirEltharin - ‘Yea. Requires a bit of strategising hehe. Besides..holy fervour and good faith!’

LadyGrim - ‘So why did you chose the sisters? You’re a guy right?’

SirEltharin - ‘And that’s a problem? ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘No..’

SirEltharin - ‘Honestly though. They’re cool. Strong women.’

LadyGrim - ‘Who got betrayed by the man they promised to serve.’

SirEltharin - ‘Ah you read the lore? Yea..men are dicks haha ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Can’t agree more.’

You back and forthed throughout the evening. Starting off with some Warhammer 40k related banter, but soon drifting off to talking about the Corona lockdown and the boredom that came with it. SirEltharin didn’t let off a whole lot about himself, which made your imagination run a little wild.

Perhaps it was this “milady” type of guy, that’d tip his hat at you, then grow annoyed as soon as you didn’t immediately fall in love with him. Or, maybe it was this skinny pimple-faced guy who only ever played female characters in games. Or a really, really fat guy. He did say large male hands. Large…could be fat? Or at least chubby? Ugh. What did it matter anyways. Men, you had decided, were always going to disappoint.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey, just curious by the way. Why did YOU decide to start painting?’

LadyGrim - ‘Are you asking just because I’m a girl? ;)’

SirEltharin - ‘Hardly. What do you even think of me?! ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Okay. Don’t call me an idiot. But this movie star, Henry Cavill? He posted an image and though I absolutely think he’s one of those fake nerd celebrities who are in it for the attention, it did get me interested in the figurines..so..I just ordered and..here I am!’

He stopped responding after that. For the rest of the night. Did you say something wrong or did he just not see your message? Ah..whatever. It didn’t really matter. He was just some stranger on the internet. You started Netflix and crawled onto your bed, wasting away another evening bingewatching How I Met Your Mother.  

The next morning he had responded again. Around 5 am. Damn. Nerds ARE night owls, you thought, sipping your freshly brewn cup of french pressed coffee while leaning against your tiny kitchen block.

SirEltharin - ‘Can’t really say that without knowing him, right?’ - 3 hours ago

SirEltharin - ‘Anything in particular wrong with Henry Cavill?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Woa woa. No harm meant. Sorry. Guess I just don’t trust ‘em pretty boys?’ - 3 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘How’s that so? And good morning, Lady ;)’ - 2 seconds ago

You bit your lip and let out a deep sigh. Oh this man didn’t know what hellfire could come his way, opening THAT topic.

LadyGrim - ‘Good morning ..and..I doubt you’d be interested.’

SirEltharin - ‘You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.’

LadyGrim - ‘Fine. Let’s just keep it plain and simple. Lied to, cheated on and continuously disappointed. Guess I’ll just have to become a lesbian?’

SirEltharin - ‘Don’t let a few bad ones ruin it for the rest of us. Has it been long?’

LadyGrim - ‘Long?’

SirEltharin - ‘Apologies. I mean. Since you last dated?’

LadyGrim - ‘A year or so.’

SirEltharin - ‘And how old are you? Or am I being too bold asking such a thing?’

LadyGrim - ‘It’s fine. Thirty. Had my birthday two weeks ago. So yea..becoming a bit of an old spinster hehe.’

SirEltharin - ‘Belated happy birthday and..hardly a spinster, right? I mean. I’m 37 and haven’t found anyone yet. Heck. I guess I’m the old spinster here haha.’

LadyGrim - ‘I doubt the same rules apply for men.’

SirEltharin - ‘Trust me. We are all judged.’

Weeks passed and you and Sir kinda started to really get to know each other. You both lived in London - how practical -, were pretty enthused about sports, liked dogs (he had one, you wished you had one) and were close knit with your family. You with your sister, who already had a few kids. And he with his brothers. All with kids. Teasingly you donned each other the nicknames ‘Uncle and Aunty Spinster’.

You knew he had looked on your account. Seen some pictures of you. Even made a few comments on them and liked everything new you posted. But he, SirEltharin, remained mostly a mystery. You tried to talk yourself out of your curiosity, but couldn’t help but lay in bed fantasising about him. The only body part you had seen of him to this point were his hands, and they were actually quite pretty hands. Well manicured nails, strong fingers. It meant he probably wasn’t SUPER fat. So. That’s something.

Eventually the COVID-19 related regulations were becoming less restrictive and for the first time in months you could go back to work. The very news had made you both reluctant - you liked this new rhythm of painting and chatting with SirEltharin -, but also happy. Finally getting out of your tiny apartment, finally getting back to work. It may require some getting used to again, but this was just what you really needed.

In your enthusiasm you posted a picture on Instagram of your work outfit as it lay neatly spread out on your bed sheets. Your boss had made some quirky shirts to celebrate the reopening of the restaurant: “Brunello’s back” was written in fancy white lettering on the back of the shirt. You giggled as SirEltharin liked it within a split second.

SirEltharin - ‘Back to work hmm?’

LadyGrim - ‘Yep. Its all fun and games until the rat race starts again.’

SirEltharin - ‘Sounds Grim ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘You know me too well Sir. Anyways gotta go. Bye!’

SirEltharin - ‘See ya.’

See ya. You always thought it weird when strangers said that at the end of an online chat. Clients sometimes said it at the end of a phone reservation. That was understandable though; they were to come to the restaurant. But complete strangers? There was no such thing as “seeing you around”. However in the case of SirEltharin you were willing to let it slip. He probably didn’t think anything of it.

For a first night it was already quite hectic at Brunello’s. The room, although still far less bustling than usual, was filled. People were obviously eager to pick up their social lives again, the animated chatter of guests zooming around the room while you paced past the neatly spaced white clothed tables. Brunello’s was a rather luxurious restaurant and mostly businessmen and well-to-do families and friends came here to wine and dine. Tonight was special though, as a few celebrities were sitting in the far corner. Including a familiar face: Mr. Cavill, your eyes immediately falling on him as he seemingly was giving you a questioning look.

Perhaps he just wanted to order some drinks, you thought, halting next to the table and offering them your most kind, professional smile - ignoring the curious pair of blue eyes that tracked your every move.

‘Good evening and welcome to Brunello’s. Is there anything I can help you with?’ You spoke, the sentence fluently tipping of your tongue, your eyes wandering slowly over the guests. Most of them were unfamiliar to you. And Mr. Cavill..you tried to just not give him any attention as he was still burning his eyes into you.

‘We actually could use some advice on the wine. We’d like to start white, slightly fruity, perhaps French? Though the Italian one also sounds quite nice.’ A small blonde woman spoke, peering over her menu card.

As this was not your expertise, you called for the sommelier, stepping back to make room for him. And all the while you felt those eyes, gazing at you, almost brazenly. What was up with this Mr. Cavill? Or did you maybe have something funny on your face and did nobody dare to tell you? Shyly you excused yourself, leaving the guests in the capable hands of the sommelier, and quickly made for the women’s bathroom to check your face. 

There was nothing out of sort when you looked into the mirror. Strange. 

Peeking quickly on your phone, a habit when you were alone, you noticed a new message popping up on your Insta-chat.

SirEltharin - ‘I think we need to talk.’ - 30 seconds ago

--

Go to part 2

[the-lack-of-errors-in-star-trek]

MIDNIGHT FLIGHTS - 0.1

Chapter 1

In a library, a young teacher, and a young FBI agent were browsing the same aisle of books on adolescent psychology, making efforts to stand a safe distance away. The first thing that Natasha noticed was a tall man with odd posture and interesting quirks for selecting a book, almost as if he were browsing psychological literature for fun. The first thing that Spencer noticed was that a relatively short woman was searching for two specific titles listed on a wrinkled sticky note, more than likely for the purposes of bettering her career. Both persons considered the other interesting for choosing to be in a library on a Friday afternoon when colleges, schools, and most workplaces were observing a winter break a week from Christmas.

Natasha is the first to leave the section with her two required readings, Spencer loitering around selecting three titles to occupy his afternoon in the library. While Natasha is checking out her books, she receives an incoming call, checking the number quickly before answering, expecting her mother on the line.

"Privyet, mama, what's going on?"

A familiar voice enters her ear, "Oh come on Nastya, I've been waiting on you for an hour now. Your mother is trying to get me to eat another bowl of borscht, please save me." The voice of her best friend, Anna, brings a light chuckle to Natasha.

"I'm almost done at the library, I promise, I'll be there in less than a half hour." She answers, handing her library card to be scanned by the sitting clerk.

"Da, please just hurry." Anna repeats her plea and hangs up, leaving Natasha to collect her items and hurry out of the lobby of the library, headed directly to the metro.

As promised, Natasha enters the small apartment above her family's store with 25 minutes to spare from Anna's disappointment. "Ya doma!" She calls out, a small "yay" can be heard from the kitchen as she sets her bag down by the door. Walking into the sitting room connected to the kitchen, she spots the clock as being 19:36.

"You need to eat dinner, Lisichka" her mother calls out to her, wiping down the counter and sipping on a coffee, lit cigarette in hand.

"And right after, we need to change, hurry." Anna demands of her, walking from the small kitchen to the living room couch, eyeing the news playing in the background.

Natasha's adult life was very much consistent, after a long week of teaching and grading middle schoolers, Anna would be right there to take her to the newest clubs in the D.C. area. Natasha took a moment to analyse her friendship while eating her borscht and bread. They had met in the local Eastern Orthodox church in D.C. Nowadays, both only practice in the name of tradition instead of the belief they held as children, but that bond was set when they spoke for the first time during a church meal, and most of the Eastern European community probably only went to church for that same reason, tradition. Nastya and Anna were practically sisters, and had felt loss in the same way. When Anna was 16, she lost her brother in a car accident, and finally understood why Nastya carried an air of grief around her. Losing family was losing a part of your soul, and that was an unshakable moment between the two teens, leading them to live in similar ways. For Nastya, she put her heart and soul into teaching, making the world better for young scholars one English class period at a time, and for Anna, working as an intern in a law firm while working towards the bar exam meant giving her family name a better reputation than just "some Russians" living in D.C.

Later that night, the metro ride to the heart of downtown was largely uneventful, both women dressed for a fun time in the city, Anna wearing her blonde hair up in a twist, exposing a black sweater and gold necklace, slacks and heeled boots to go with. Nastya was dressed in a similar fashion, a red sweater from light fabric and dark jeans going with her worn black heeled boots, both women holding their purses close while holding the same rail. Leaving the metro meant walking fast from the station to the club, as the cold December air placed a chill over their bones. Neon lights could be seen all over the city, entering a small queue where a bouncer was checking IDs for entry into a new and definitely not prestigious club.

With a side eye from the bouncer, most likely from the last names on their Virginian licenses, both Anna and Nastya enter the club with no further event. The lights were strobing different colors, the music was loud and pumping, and both women sought a beeline for the bar, hoping to clock in a few shots prior to dancing. The bartender is a kind woman who obliges in pouring the four shots, taking payment from Natasha immediately.

"I'll cover the next four," Anna states, washing the second shot down with a sip of coke.

"You better!" Natasha laughs, lightly tapping Anna's shoulder, and turning to look at the crowd. Both were thankful for the fact the club had a coat room, ensuring the only thing needed to carry was their phones and some cash. "Dance?" She asks her friend, looking to the floor.

"Definitely!" Anna shouts over the music, dragging Nastya by the wrist to the floor, alcohol keeping their chests warm as they begin to dance by themselves and next to each other. A few men pass by briefly, none getting too close, but a quite muscular man saunters over, seeming to try and seduce Anna. Nastya takes this as a cue to find something stronger from the bar, leaning over to Anna's ear.

"Have fun, don't leave without me." She commands, receiving a thumbs up from her friend before closing the gap and dancing up on the bald man who approached them. Nastya can overhear their introductions as she walks away and towards the bar. She orders a gin and tonic from the lady behind the counter, and sips on it while walking the perimeter of the floor, attempting to spot her friend. Assuming they went towards the middle of the floor, she hangs back, taking the next ten minutes to slam through her drink, leaving it on the bar counter before finally spotting Anna's figure at a table of people, the man she was dancing with not even 15 minutes before standing next to her. Nastya walks over, tapping Anna on the shoulder.

"I thought I told you not to stray far," Nastya starts in Russian, "I couldn't find you for a solid ten." She finishes in English.

Anna shushes her, "Dude it's fine, look these guys are awesome! They work here! In the D.C.!" Liquor had always taken Anna faster than Nastya, she was just hoping she could keep tabs on her. She shakes her head at her friend before looking at the table, spotting an oddly familiar face across from her.

"Are you two Russian?" A skinny brunette asks the both of them in broken Russian, alcohol makes anyone a polyglot with the right vocabulary. Both women nod, answering with a curt "Da" waiting for more conversation to enter the table.

"Well we love meeting new people, your friend already told me her name, I'm Derek, what's yours?" The tall buff man asks Natasha.

"Natasha, nice to meet you Derek, don't move too fast on her, she gets tipsy faster than I do." Natasha cracks a friendly comment, getting a laugh and a light slap on the shoulder from Anna.

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Emily." The brunette introduces herself to both young women on the spot, moving to point to the two people sitting next to her. "This is Penelope," she says, pointing to a slightly chubby and eccentric woman with cat eye glasses and an outfit to match, plenty of colour in comparison to the rest of their group. A short and sweet "nice to meet you" leaves Penelope's lips, moving to chew on her small bar straw in her red cocktail.

"And this is Spencer, our workplace genius." Emily finishes, the familiar man waving but finally looking up to face both women.

"Wait, I saw you in the library earlier today," he starts, shock coming to most of the table's faces. "Adolescent psychology, what was that for?"

"I'm a teacher." Natasha answers shortly, "I could ask you the same thing."

"Just light reading material." Spencer answers in the same matter of fact manner, the interaction leaving an odd air around the group.

Emily moves over slightly, "Please sit, the more the merrier, we can keep drinks going." Anna is the first to oblige, her boots new and not nearly as easy on the feet as Nastya's.

"Come on, Nastya, don't be a stranger, you need more friends than just me." Anna slaps the spot next to her, Nastya giving into the demands of her friend, as Derek excuses himself to grab shots for the table.

"So you know our professions," Nastya starts, "what brings you four together?"

"We work in the same office," Emily answers, her tone always warm and welcoming, definitely appealing to Natasha in opening up. "Federal agents, gotta cut loose every once and awhile."

Anna and Nastya nod, Anna piping up first. "What is that even like?"

"A lot of paperwork most of the time, but keeps us on our toes." Emily and Penelope seem to be the most talkative, the blonde answering the question this time around.

"Really?" Derek asks, coming back to the table and conversation with plenty of shots for everyone. "You're the one in the cave, Garcia, these girls were asking about our action packed adventures."

Everyone except Spencer takes a shot after making a cheer, catching Nastya's attention. "What is it, Mr. Spencer? Vodka not for you?"

"Actually it's Doctor Reid," he answers, taking Natasha aback, "and I've just never been crazy about drinking in general."

"Jesus, how old are you?" She asks, genuinely curious how a man looking so young could be that smart with a PhD.

"I'm 26 years old, a bit of a high IQ and fast reading will take you pretty far." He answers.

"Seriously? We're like the same age and you already have a doctorate?"

"Three of them, actually." This answer causes Anna to choke on her drink, an amused look from Spencer's work friends.

"Fucking impossible!" Anna calls out, "There's no way, you're too young!"

Derek laughs, "Anything is possible when this dude graduated high school at the ripe age of 12." Derek and Anna look at each other and nod, an unspoken agreement that both were bored and wanted to dance. Nastya moves to let Anna out onto Derek's shoulder, and takes her place at the table.

"So when did you leave Russia?" Emily asks, alcohol keeping the conversation on getting to know everyone.

"I mean, I was born here, by my parents left right at the start of the Glasnost and Perestroika," Natasha answers, no harm in answering the question no matter how odd it was to be talking to the FBI off duty. "Anna's family was a bit more lucky, her grandparents snuck out of the eastern bloc, making her second generation."

Penelope is the next to engage in conversation, "I can't imagine, have you ever travelled there since the wall fell?" She asks and it's a harmless question out of curiosity, but it places Natasha on edge. She shakes her head as a response. It was her time to ask questions.

"What even do you guys do?" She asks, not meaning to come off in a mean tone, but luckily Spencer sees through it and answers.

"We work behavioural analysis, most people assume that to mean we work to catch serial killers, but it's not just that, there's also arsonists, kidnappers, and rapists, and any crime in which behaviour can be studied."

"What a mouthful," Natasha responds, Penelope and Emily chuckling in response to the interaction.

"He's always quiet until he has something he can info-dump on you" Emily assures Natasha, keeping the same warm smile. It was certainly a nice group, but after an extra hour of small talk, and a few more rounds of shots, in which Natasha snags the numbers of all three at the table, it becomes evident that Anna had a very high chance of going home with Derek instead of back to Natasha's family apartment.

"You lost her?" Spencer asks, towering over her as they pack up to leave the club.

"Seems like it, metro should be loads of fun." Natasha eyes how Anna is practically climbing all over Derek.

Spencer looks between the two, and comes to a conclusion. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm driving for Emily and Penelope, I can drive you too. The crime rates at this hour skyrocket, especially if you're taking the metro by yourself."

Natasha decides to take up the group on their offer, making sure Anna left with Derek safely first. When stepping onto the street at a bright one in the morning, Natasha can't help but notice how far the temperature has dropped in just the past few hours. The group of four head to Spencer's car, and pile in.

The ride is largely uneventful, address after address meant that Spencer was left to drive Natasha home after Emily and Penelope, both remaining silent on the drive to the outskirts of D.C.

"It's this store right here, thank you." Natasha responds when Spencer pulls up.

"You live in a store?"

"Above it."

"Oh, yeah that makes sense..." He trails off, pulling into the side of the road. "It was nice to meet you, have a good night."

"Thanks again," Natasha answers, exiting the car with her purse, both of the adults creating an awkward silence between each other. "Good night." Spencer drives off right when she backs onto the sidewalk, getting into the store apartment with no alert to her mother.

As Natasha fell asleep that night, she wondered what kind of story Anna would have for her the next morning, as well as how the fuck the FBI got a lanky kid to hunt down serial killers, but couldn't teach him how to hold a conversation.

Taglist: @iwannabemorethanme​

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

Hi Maddie, how or what do you think I can do to not be so self-conscious about my body? I'm a virgin, I'm 22, and I'm ready to have sex with my bf but the only thing stopping me is that. I don't like my body very much. I'm too skinny and short. I barely have any curves and I feel so self-conscious about it. Well that ofc and perhaps the fact that it might hurt but it's mainly the "how I look" part. I want to be confident enough to not give a damn. But I don't know how to.

Hello,

first of all you should try to internalise that you do not have to love your body in order to be okay with it. Body positivity is a great movement but it can be demoralising when it’s focussing entirely on “just love your body” when that seems like five steps ahead of where you are right now. So as an in-between step I’d say just try to create a mindset of “my body is what it is and there’s nothing I can change about it (except my perception of it)". So try to accept your body for what it is and try to just be okay with it.

Little things that helped me over the years to feel more comfortable about my body is to be naked as much as possible. Like... at home I just walk around naked, I sleep naked when it’s not too cold, I go skinny dipping in summer. Now, I don’t know where you live and how your culture is about nudity but I find nothing more liberating about body image issues than chilling at a nudist beach and seeing all different kinds of people just being carefree and nakey and not giving a single fuck about how I look because they’ve seen it all.

Additionally you should try to remind yourself that just because you don’t find yourself attractive doesn’t mean nobody else does. Everybody likes different things and for every body type that exists, there’s someone who finds that to be the hottest body type ever. Like, there’s a lot of fatphobia and ageism in this world and yet I am still absolutely batshit horny for chubby old men. And though there is this beauty ideal that women have to be curvy and an hourglass figure,  there’s pleeeeenty of people who don’t find that beauty ideal attractive at all and actually like skinny and short girls; or tall and fat girls or whatever.

Your boyfriend is with you for a reason. I assume it is because he loves you and is attracted to you. Even if he hasn’t seen you naked yet he probably has a pretty good idea of what your body is shaped like and I can’t imagine there’s anything that could suddenly turn him off when you take your clothes off in front of him. Assuming your boyfriend is a half decent person he’ll know that only very few people look like supermodels - and as mentioned above: he might not even be interested in people who look like supermodels. I used to be very self-conscious about my vitiligo and then realised that half the men I had sex with didn’t even mention it when they saw me naked and the other half who did mention it didn’t do so in a negative way at all, they were just like “huh, that’s different!” and then moved on. So those parts about your body that you hate? Your boyfriend might not even notice them as A Thing. Or if he does then he might not think of them as “bad” or “unattractive”.

If you want to have sex with him I would recommend you talk about any fears and insecurities that you have (and ask him if he has any as well). Maybe when talking about it some of those worries can be resolved before you even get started. And trust him when he says and shows that he is attracted to you and your body.

Lastly, because you mentioned you’re a little afraid that your first time could hurt, I would like to redirect you to this post about that very topic from a while ago. EDIT: I also just found this post again which might also be of interest to you.

Maddie

[goodnightallwhites]

Your Life in the Black Ruled World By BlackingPacking

Your Life in the Black Ruled World 

By BlackingPacking 

Submitted: July 24, 2019 Updated: January 7, 2020 

You're a young whiteboy in a world ruled by BBC, doing normal things in life- hanging out with your friends, crushing on girls, gossiping, fantasizing a little too much about your sisters, and jerking off your tiny dick to all the women in your life getting fucked my hung black studs. 

Contains: BBC, SPH, cucking, dubleg, strong racial content, incest. DO NOT READ unless you have a blacked fetish. 

Provided by Hentai Foundry. 

Chapter 1 - Wake Up 2 

Chapter 2 - Good Morning Abby 5 

Chapter 3 - Good Morning, Coral 8 

Chapter 4 - Good Morning Mary... 13 

Chapter 5 - And Good Morning Ellie 16 

Chapter 6 - A Good Morning to Jenny 20

Chapter 7 - A Good Morning for Lily   26

Chapter 8 - And lastly, Good Morning to Katie   31

Chapter 9 - Brunch   36

Chapter 1 - Wake Up

You wake up at around one p.m.- a minor inconvenience, as school won’t start for another few days. Besides, sleeping early was a result of an intense day of white dicklet-jerking, and you’ve spent tons of time jerking your little thing off- a medically recommended 8 cums a day, in order to reduce stress for white boys. Of course, it was hard for your little peanut-sized balls to actually muster up that much sperm, but they manage, 

You could hear a mattress banging from your parent’s room- well, your mom’s, since your dad was living in the city full-time, working his ass off for your mom as a good white husband should- with your mom screaming from the good morning fuck her bull, a 55 year-old pro with an 18 incher fit for his dad bod- Damarcus. Your first orgasm of the day was often this, jerking your dick, under 1/8th the size of his. 

“A shit! My fucking shitter! It’s so fucking streeeeetched!” She cried, clearly doing anal, which she wasn’t as good at as plenty of other girls, including your sisters. 

In about 30 seconds, you came, shooting a few pathetic drops onto your marble-sized balls. You blushed as you hear your mom getting anally destroyed in the next room while your white babydick went flaccid again. 

“Fuck baby! Fuck I’m cumming! Ah! Ah. Yes! I’m cumming with your big fucking nigger dick up my poopchute!” 

You hear a loud smack as Damarcus slaps her fat white ass as he pounded it from underneath, mighty balls probably swinging wildly. 

“Fuck baby, yeah, yeah, gimme another load of your black cum! Awwww yes right up my pooper! Shit there’s so much mmmm,” your mom, despite being 47 years old, is a grade-A slut, who not only had produced 7 snowbunny daughters (and, sadly, you), But is also involved in the Neighborhood Blacked Moms Association, organizing dates and orgies for all the women in the neighborhood. 

You hear the bed creak as your mom fell on it, exhausted from what was probably hours of sex from godly black cock. You leave the room, still nude, and nervously move your little hairless white body to the door to listen closer. Your smooth, nubby little penis gets hard again. 

“Damarcus..” your mom says, “go wake up my useless little bitch of a son so he can clean me up!” 

Your little two-incher stands at attention and you nervously push open the door to see your overweight, exhausted redhead mom on the bed while the tall, hairy piece of meat beside her was standing. 

“Bitch boy!” Your mom calls you, breathing heavily on her back, “clean me the fuck up!” She demands. 

“Clean me too, Gail,” Damarcus commands, shoving his fat, long cock in her face for her to suck all the juices off. Your mom does it wish a smile, loving her taste mixed with black cum. 

She always spent hours every morning getting fucked by his big dick, and it showed in the mess of a cream pie, if it could even be called that, spilling out what looked like gallons of thick cum from her pussy and asshole, pouring onto the bed in a hot mess. 

“Moooooom,” you whine, “how do I eat all this? It’s not even a cream pie it’s like- like- a cream feast!” 

Your mom just laughs, “cream feast? I like it! Now eat it all, you little wimp. Eat mommy’s fucking creamfeast.” 

You whine as you climb on the bed and kneel between your moms legs, holding onto her chubby, sweaty thighs for balance as you bent down to suck up the piles of cum that covered her. 

It tasted strong and virile, thick and sweet unlike your salty, watery little virgin cums. You sucked up her pussy pie first, wetly cleaning it like a good little beta boy until her puss was bare again. You want to fuck it, to even touch it, but you couldn’t, and even if you could, her pussy was so stretched that her hole was wider than your dicklet was long. Even licking her clit did little besides earn you a smack on the head. She didn’t want any pleasure from her pathetic little son. 

Next was her anal cream, an equally sticky mess flowing from her abused asshole. You ate it like candy, sucking and slurping the mix of pussy juice, anal lube, and black cum. It tasted like her butthole, sweet and warm, perfect for a superior man to fuck for ages. Her ass was stretched too, a huge gaping hole in place of her tight pucker. You couldn’t eat her ass like this, but you could scoop the cum out of it. 

“I’m done, mom,” you mutter, precum leaking in a thin, weak strand from your short dick. 

“Good little whiteboy,” she replied, feeling her now clean, still wet pussy and asshole, giggling as she pleasures herself. “How many times have you cum today?” She said and beckoned you closer as she gave Damarcus one last sloppy kiss on his cock. 

You climb over her chubby, but still hourglass-shaped body, “only once mommy.” You mutter. 

“Puny dick can’t even cum right. Are you horny? Is that pink little worm hard?” 

Almost 2.5 inches bone pressed erect, it sure didn’t look like much in comparison to what she just had. 

“Yes... I’m precumming. See it?” 

Your mom snorts, yeah, I do. Looks like a spider web. Aren’t you supposed to be above average for a white boy? I bet Damarcus’precum is stronger than your real nut.” 

“I-it is.” 

“You know it’s been a whole since I last looked at it.... Is it ever gonna grow hair? Or will you just have a babydick forever?” 

“Mom... you know I’m white.” 

“I know, but there are some whiteboys who have a bit of pubes, or fuzzy balls. You’re just pathetic,” she poked at your ballsack, “and what’s this? A little round lump under your pointy little dick? How tiny are your balls?” 

“White boys don’t drop...” 

“Sweetie- you’re an idiot. I’m just teasing you! God, white boys are dumb. Of course you’ll never measure up. Your dicks the size of a toe, your balls are so small it doesn’t even look like you have two. Isn’t that funny?” 

“I don’t know.. it makes me feel bad.” You complain. 

She slaps your little balls, “little bitchboy! You’re supposed to feel bad. Whiteboys don’t get to be happy about their tiny dicks. I love you as a son, but you’re still a fucking loser, got it, microdick?” 

“Yes ma’am.." 

“Good,” she gives your tight little nutsack a small squeeze before getting up, letting you Marvel at her full, voluptuous, motherly beauty- her ass and tits were round and huge, her belly was full from eating black cum everyday, and her legs were still long and nimble enough to lock around a bull during orgasm. 

You were shorter, smaller, skinnier than her, your hair more brown than her hot red bob. You clearly took after your father, a chubby white wimp who your mother loved very dearly, but still loved black men more. 

She strutted out of room, butt naked, waving you over, “come on beta boy, bust your little nut then come serve us breakfast.” 

Chapter 2 - Good Morning Abby  

You hobble into your room and sat on your small bed, squeezing your tiny little lump of a dicklet with two thin fingers. You poke its tip and rub it like a clit, which it was barely bigger than. You knew, at least, that it was above average for a white dick- it was slightly longer than it was wide, and your skinny, weak body meant it could stick out farther. It even got rock hard. 

Maybe that was why your mom would harass you so- the hormonal and genetic therapy given to white women, designed for them to have girls almost 80% of the time and for any men to be born exceptionally weak, must not have worked with you. Probably because you were one of two twins, the other being Jenny, of course, who soaked up all the femininity. That didn’t explain why your cocklet couldn’t grow hair. Maybe you were just a mistake. Granted, most white boys were hairless anyways. 

Probably, after all, since your mom hadn’t had sex with your dad since you were born, as a punishment for bringing in another white boy into the world. And poor Jenny, having to spend 9 months together with a white boy. She was even bullied at school for it. 

You let out a high-pitched whine as you think about how pathetic you are. Nothing gets your teenie weenie going like that. You feel your tiny little nuts tremble as another orgasm comes closer, so you grab a tissue and put it underneath your puny penis. You cum. It’s only one watery drop. 

You toss it into your full trash can and walk out of your room. Your sisters hallway and your moms bedroom smelled like sweat and cum. The only time you would sweat was when running or when trying to hold in your ejaculation for over two minutes, and it always smelled more like the girls than the black guys’. 

Your house was large and spacious, thanks to how hard your dad worked downtown, not to mention the bonuses your mom got from being a neighborhood organizer. Every woman you knew loved your moms taste in community Bulls. 

At the end of the hallway is the curved staircase, down to the open-concept ground floor, which, like the rest of the house, has a soft white and pink palette. As always, you don’t give a second thought about walking around downstairs totally naked. Everyone did so, with women being proud of their beauty, black men of their masculinity, and with white boys having nothing to hide from their superiors. 

You hop down the stairs, enjoying the bounce of your body down each step, soft skin jiggling slightly, and your tiny, flaccid baby dick bouncing upon your soft, round balls. Your feet eventually touch the cold marble floor, your chilly skin makes your pink little worm only shrivel up more. 

You ignore it, enjoying the feeling of tight, compact smallness as you walk into the kitchen to pop your sister’s food into the microwave. Already there, is Max, the husband of your oldest sister, Abby. Max had a pretty, angular face with round glasses and dirty blond hair that was as stringy as his body, and a small, pointy little penis to match. Abby thought Mac was adorable, but absolutely pathetic as well, often mocking him in front of the whole family. Wimpy little guy couldn’t even afford a house, which is why he 

lived with you. Abby, surely, was upstairs with her bull, Julius. 

You ask if Max knows how many will come to breakfast, but he only knew his wife and bull would come. Dammit- now you’ll have to go all the way back upstairs to get your sisters up. Max just goes back to scrolling through his friends posts on Snowgram. As with most Snowgram posts, it was girls enjoying the snowbunny lifestyle. 

You sigh and walk back upstairs, cold little nub of your dickie getting slightly harder as you smell the sweet aroma of interracial lust, a warmth filling your pathetic little manhood. 

First, all the way down the hall, was Abigail and Julius. Technically this was Max’s room too, but you didn’t pay enough attention to your oldest sister’s life to know. You two were never close after all- she was nearly a decade older than you, in her mid twenties now, and as long as you could remember she’d be paying attention to nothing but black guys. 

Julius was actually the bull who took Abby’s virginity back when they were in middle school, though they had only been back in contact for a few months, since a bit after she was married. Now he practically lived in the house, and Abby sure was happy to parade around his lean, toned body. He may have been ever so slightly shorter than Max, but he packed a proper BBC, thick and veiny and bulging like a balloon, it’s fat middle looking like the base couldn't hold it up. It sure could inside your sister though. What a whore she was- she’d even let Max fuck her every night. Said she wanted to see who’d get her pregnant first. 

You were hot- thinking about your sister so distractedly this afternoon, your dick had gotten hard. A cylinder the size of a pillbug, a single little drop of precum leaking. You’re sure they wouldn’t notice. 

Ear against the door, hearing nothing, you let yourself in. On the bed is only Abby, laying and sucking on her fingers, creampie dripping from her pink, used pussy. 

“Oh. It’s you,” she says, “you staring, creep? Getting a little stiffie? God,” she sighs as she gets out of bed and stretches. A fat glob of cum slides down from her pussy, hanging for an instant before falling down with a splat. Your penis twitches. 

“I-it’s time for breakfast,” you mutter, in awe of your sisters tall, blonde body. She looks like your mom in her younger days, only with blonde hair instead of red, a perfect receptacle for BBC. 

“I know. Julius will be coming too. He’s in the bathroom- you can sneak a peak if you want to,” she teases. “Oh, and clean that up.” She goes to stand in front of a mirror, spreading her pure white ass cheeks to show her cum-filled hole, fondling her big bouncy tits, patting her exhausted abs. Abby liked to experiment with positions. She was more muscular before the started eating mom’s cooking again. 

You meanwhile just had to make sure that she never noticed all the glances at her you stole as you cleaned up Julius’ thick cum. It really was a day like any other. 

After you threw the tissues away, Abby pinches her clit and waves it at you. Even rock hard, you still don’t look much bigger than a clit. If only you could suck that.. 

Smack 

Your butt stung- Abby smacked you! It didn’t hurt much, but it’s embarrassing. You clearly didn’t catch her at a good time, and she was taking her anger out on you, spanking your pale white ass and teasing your tiny dick. 

“Not a penis,” she whispered at you, Queen of Spades necklace hanging between her perfect, tanned tits as she disappeared into the bathroom. You figured it was time to go too. 

Then you see her phone. It was just lying open on the bed, probably holding all the pictures from her fuck sessions. You just couldn’t resist. 

Upon opening it, you’re far from disappointed. His huge dick, Max’s tiny one, all over her naked body. At least a dozen pictures were taken a day- her being fucked in every hole, her mocking Max, her eating her thick creampie. It was a goldmine for a dirty little white cuckold like yourself. With two fingers, you stroked the smooth little hard on as you watch a video of Julius cumming in a glass and Abby bottoms upping it. She did this a few times over the weeks, pouring some on her body, over her pussy, or just to rub into her skin. A few pictures showed Julius cumming on a dress she later wore on a date with Max. 

She’d gag on his massive cock with an outstretched arm to film, winking at the camera whenever she wasn’t choking on his length. She’d take it out and let it slap her face, the long, dark, dripping wet rod dwarfing her head. 

And her ass- you could never forget your sister’s ass. She’s slimmer than your mom by far, but just made her round, soft ass all the hotter. Julius clearly loved it, eating it out in several pictures. They were taken by him. A video showed why; Abby couldn’t control herself. The pleasure of a black man’s skilled tongue in her sensitive pink asshole made her lips quiver and her eyes roll back in her head. A few other videos show him trying to fuck her ass, keyword trying. He could fit the head in before she started screaming and crying, begging him to either stop or go further. As big as her ass was, her hole wasn’t up to the challenge. All for the better, of course- she wanted him to knock her up. Based on how many creampies she got, he probably already had. 

Your furious masturbation let go after barely a minute. You hobble over to cum in the same bin you threw away the tissues, but your ejactulation was less impressive by far, its thin little strands landing on more of your balls than the bin. You got out of there before Abby came out and could harass you. She’d probably be meaner to you than she was to Max. Then again, maybe you should stay... 

Chapter 3 - Good Morning, Coral

After Abby, you still have six sisters to wake, and so decide to walk out of her pretty blue-walled room. 

Down the hall, on the far side of your little bedroom, came out your mom from her bedroom, giggling like a far younger woman as she pulls Demarcus out too. He’s in shorts and a sleeveless tee, while she’s in an old, too-big t-shirt that covered her big ass, but her wide thighs are exposed. If she was wearing any underwear, you couldn’t tell. She turned around and winked at you, smiling cruelly at your excuse for a member, squeezing her bulls ass as they went downstairs. They’d get the coffee she’d prepared and watch some TV before anything. No rush. 

There’s plenty of time to get bullied by any one of your sisters, or even some girls in the neighborhood or at school. White dicks, while cumming twenty times as fast as big black cock, could still go all day if the boy was horny enough. Give it ten minutes, your little balls could totally muster up another drop of cum to squeeze out. 

Right across the hall from Abby’s room was the guest bedroom, occupied this summer by your second oldest sister, Coral. A university student with hair redder than your moms and more tattoos than almost any girl you knew, she may be the nicest to you of any of your sisters. She’d never enjoy sex with a penis like yours, of course, but she found white boys cute and funny, and always made sure not to point out their inferiority around them. Most of her tattoos weren’t even of the snowbunny kind- her arms and back were covered in vibrant vines and flowers, with only the occasional queen of spades tattoo- a vine one around her thigh, a ‘snowbunny’ flourish on her shoulder, and a squat spade with a Q in the center on her right freckly buttcheek. 

You knock on the door. No response. Ear against the off-white door, you turn the knob to go in. As sweet as she is, Coral’s still a girl- well, a young lady now- with needs, and the chief of those needs was a big cock to fill those holes with. She got plenty black cock at university, but she was the kind of brightly haired, round-glasses, carefree art hoe who loved herself a good dildo. Of which she’s got plenty. 

That’s what greeted you as you walked into her room- she was passed out on the bed, laying on her back, a dildo barely in her pussy and a buttplug firmly in her ass. The dildo was fat and blue, with a rounded base under the shaft and round, soft balls, molded to have large, thick veins that seemed to alone be bigger than what you were packing. You couldn’t see much of her buttplug other than that it was a rubbery black, and it seriously stretched her asshole out. 

On her desk and shelf were the rest of her collection, an impressive two dozen dildoes, some of which she’d had since high school. She also had some old ones somewhere, in a drawer or in a box somewhere, but those little twigs, silicone little cylinders and finger-sized vibrators, her favorite middle school toys that she wouldn’t let mom pass down to her little sisters, could never satisfy her anymore. She’d rather use them than a white dick, but that wasn’t a high bar. 

Her collection’s size humiliated you. The ones she has out, which she had been using in recent years, were almost all in the double digits in terms of inches. Her smallest still dwarfs you, an 8-inch pink noded vibrator. She has a few cylindrical vibrators, the purple one squatter than the green one, both under the 10 inch mark, along with an 8.5 inch warm up dildo, with a fleshy texture and suction cup bottom. 

Curious are the colors. There were many colorful ones, and even some translucent vibrators, but plenty of her collection were huge white cocks. Some are more realistic than others, but at least four or five have similar beige flesh and ruddy pink heads. Your mother sure thinks it’s weird that Coral would ever enjoy seeing a white cock in her, even an unrealistically huge one made of silicon, but honestly it doesn’t make you feel much better about your woefully inadequate size. 

She still has black ones, of course- a perfectly black, smooth two-pronged clitoral vibrator sits in the center of her collection, it’s with twice your length in places. On one side is an empty space, probably for Big Blue, the one in her right now, and on the other side is a deep chocolate god of a dildo, at least 18 inches in shaft length, thick and girthy as a football player, and just as black. Why Coral didn’t use this one every night is beyond you- hell, why Coral didn’t bring home one of the many black men she’d posted pictures with on social media stories is beyond you. Imagining her with both the dildos and the bulls, you poke your half-hard dick with one finger. 

Big Blue slides out of Coral’s pussy, the tip still dripping wet from the hours of orgasms it must have brought her last night. She stirred, waking up as she saw the light peeking through her blinds .“Hey, anyone there?” She groans in a tired voice, rubbing her eyes. 

You turn around, covering your small whiteness with one hand. “Just me, Coral.” 

She sits up, running her hands through her scarlet curls, “oh, hey little bro. Can you put big blue up for me?” 

You nod, knowing to never disobey a white goddess, picking up the large, floppy sex toy with both hands, mouth wide as you stare at it. As you put it back, you let your small hand fall from your equally wimpy crotch. Your sister notices. 

“Aww, you have a little stiffy! Don’t you usually jerk off by now?” 

“I-I do,” you respond, “I’ve already came two times today.” 

“Well, guys do get like that.” 

You nod in agreement, “Mpm and Abby’ve been shown that too today..” 

“Well, you’re just like their bulls aren’t you? Just.. a bit on the smaller side.” 

“A bit?” 

“Oh come on, lil bro, I’m being nice! Not all girls love giant black, two foot fuckin things! Is there something wrong with me thinking white guys are cute?” 

You look at her collection, then back at her. “I guess not.” 

“And you’re cute too you know- I know mom and the others give you a hard time, but you’ve always been bigger for a white boy. They’re just making sure you don’t let it get to your head.” 

“You think I’m cute?” You ask. 

“Well, yeah?” She stretches, getting out of bed. She’s a bit taller than you, with freckles on her shoulders and perky breasts, “who cares that I’m your sister. I mean, I’ve had sex in public in front of mom! You don’t think it’s weird, right?” 

You shake your head. 

“Yeah- plus, plenty of girls have had sex with their black half brothers. I’ve heard Abby and Lee did it a few years back, if you could believe it.” Lee was your half-brother, who your mom had between Abby and Coral with an old bull. He was off at college now, and was definitely a sign that black genes were more dominant than white. And you could believe it. 

You blush as you realize you’ve been dripping a tiny strand, thin as a spiders web, of precum down to her floor. 

“Aww, look at that! You don’t make too much more, do you? I know black guy’s precum is like, way thicker than even like your cum, but like, that thing doesn’t need much to lube itself up, right?” “Thats- what they teach everyone in school,” you respond, gathering weak precum on your finger. 

“I slept in biology,” she shrugged, “but if that’s a lot for you, does that mean you have to jerk off?” 

You blush, “Y-yes. I’m very horny again.” 

“Awww!” she smiled lovingly, “Wanna do it now? It’d be really cute.” 

You know you shouldn’t. You are white after all, and her body should be reserved for black bulls. Your mom would get so mad... but you’re really horny. You look up and down the tattoos on her arms, the milk white tits and her strawberry nipples. You remember how Coral could be mean too, like when your dad had said her tattoos were unbecoming, and she threw the insult right back at him when he was jerking off his tiny, old, white dick while mom was being spitroasted in her room. 

That will be you one day, jerking off as your mom or sisters or wife or daughters were blacked. If you’re even allowed to see it when you were older. You’d love to see massive black cocks pound perfect, pale white pussy for the rest of your life. 

You reach a hand down and start pulling at your little underdeveloped dick. Even the skin of your tiny balls is pulled as you jerk it. It’s all one tiny little organ. 

She squats down, “Aww! It’s like..” You stare at her sexy body, hoping you can be lucky enough to one 

day have a girl as nice as her (in more ways than one), “Like a-a little paperclip! You see it, right? Small, kinda round, fun to play with.” She pokes it. 

“Coraaaaal.” 

“Sorry little bro-” she got up, “ah, I shouldn’t, but-” she rubbed her hands all over her body. 

“I’m so hard Coral....” you mutter, barely a whisper. 

“I know,” she gasps, touching herself, “you’re adorable. Do you- well, are you a virgin?” 

You nod. 

“Pfft, what am I asking, of course you’re a virgin. And I’m not, I’m sure you remember when I got my virginity taken by a BBC. But I sometimes want something a little more low-key. A little... smaller,” she sat on the bed, “Do you wanna try and fuck me?” she spread her legs. 

“T-to fuck you?” You stutter, holding your breath so that your tiny cock doesn’t spurt out its buildup of droplets of cum. 

“Yeah. It wouldn’t be my first time with white boy penetrating me, or, like, trying to penetrate, but yours looks a tiny bit bigger, so I’m sure I can at least feel it. And it won’t be weird because I’m not like a virgin or anything. You’ve jerked off to me before, right?” 

You nod. You’ve jerked your dicklet to all your sisters of course. 

“So what’s the deal?” “I’m.. just small,” you mumble. 

She snorts. “So? It’s about the thrill. The taboo. Learn to live a little, kid. Of course I won’t be satisfied. Who cares? Just have fun.” She invites you with those long, colorful legs. 

You give in, “I didn’t think I’d lose my virginity like this...” you mutter as you walk up to her, shuffling awkwardly as you point your little needle-dick to her wide pussy. It looked weird, the same, weak pink color of white penis and white pussy coming together. You can see why- her well-fucked, hot, didlo-loving cunt utterly dwarfs your pussy. Forget black guys, white pussy’s better than what’s between your legs. You’re scared for what comes next. 

“Jeez,” she teases, “could you be any less graceful?” 

You blush hotly as you feel the tip of your dicklet touch her wetness, muttering an apology under your breath. “I’m putting it in..” “Hey, I can actually feel it,” she chirps, laying down as she lets you do all the work. 

You simply try what you’ve seen from your mom, sisters, and the porn they show on TV. You put your dick as far into her pussyhole as you can, barely touching a few of the walls in there, and certainly not pleasuring them. 

It feels rock hard, weak white nerves stirring up hormones in your addled little brain as your head spins from pleasure. The residual wet warmth of your sister’s pussy after her night of masturbation feels incredible. Your heart pounds as your dicklet quivers. 

“C’mon little bro, I believe in you,” she mutters. 

You listen to her. Yeah, you’re a whiteboy, but you’re above average! And you’re decent enough, in one way or another, to have your hot-ass sister fuck you! So you know that you can make this worth it. Maybe even- 

You lose your train of thought as you thrust in and out of her. That’s barely anything, so they’re tiny thrusts, of course, but that only makes it feel like you’re pounding into her soft, unblemished inner thighs, tattoo-less hips, and horny incestuous pussy even more. It’s not like what a black guy would do, it’s what YOU- You totally lose whatever you’re thinking of as your eyes roll back in your head, you cum at in no time at all. 

Instinctually, you pull it out and let it drip on the floor. If you’d impregnated any white girl, mom would kill you. 

As you let the last droplet fall, you look at your sister’s loving face. 

“Awww man...” all that love, and still, she’s disappointed. 

Chapter 4 - Good Morning Mary...

You leave corals room embarrassed, tiny dick shrinking back up into your smooth little crotch until the flaccid nub disappears 

You walk out of her room and sigh, looking at your disappointing size. Your balls buzz, wanting more. You’ll jerk off again before and after brunch, at least. Stream some live blacked, edge to the Humiliation Channel for all of 30 seconds, some very fun things. Such was your life everyday, jerking off to massive, dark, powerful, swinging, hung black cock as BBC tattooed white girls take them in their horny pink pussies. 

Either way, next you had to get the rest of your sisters up, going down in the jack and Jill bedrooms, which shared a bathroom, occupied by the twins, both seniors at your school- On the left is Ellie, a big, curvy girl with an ass and tits to rival your mom, whose body shape she matched most of all the girls, albeit more athletically dispositioned. She’s a cheerleader and volleyball player, and definitely in the top 5 most popular girls at your high school, meaning she always had a black boy up in her panties. Her current boyfriend is Andre, basketball player, a center big enough to be a footballer, who you know was packing over 18 inches of blackness. A massive, ripe banana to your grape. 

On the right is Mary, Ellie’s polar opposite. Thin and flat, she’s never had a boyfriend, and only been fucked by a BBC on her birthday, when young girls typically were, and in the occasional threesome with her sister and whoever she dated at the time. As some girls put it, Mary’s a femcel- shut in and bitter, she’s resentful of your sisters for being more attractive than her and at black boys for not finding her sexy enough. She especially hates white boys though, never missing a chance to let her frustration out on you. Honestly, it’d be better for her to just be normal. She spends most of her days reading and writing porn stories about BBC, instead of just getting laid. You can’t ever say that, of course, or you’d get your ass beat and your balls smacked. 

You’d still fuck Mary in a heartbeat though. She’s certainly hotter than your hand on your babydick. Or rather, your fingers. You’d give anything for a shot at a white girls vagina, even right after you disappointed Coral. If only one would show any interest... 

You’re a sick little perv aren’t you? A schoolboy, a little white wimp who fantasizes about fucking his sisters, (mostly) beautiful young women who no one who isn’t black stands a chance with. You mentally scold yourself, sounding like Mrs. Bain, your school's discipline officer. You resist the urge to reach your hand down and yet again pull at your tiny, smooth cock, and actually do what you’re here for. 

You go to the door on the right, knocking gently before opening it. It seems everyone sleeps in on summer weekends. Mary is passed out on her desk, butt ass naked, loose, small breasts hanging down. It wasn’t the most attractive, but neither was she. Your dicklet was still hard. 

Balls aching, you walk up to her, light feet not making noise on the soft carpeted floor. Her laptop is still open in front of her, and her right hand is barely on it. You could easily see she what she’s been doing... 

Since Mary is your only sister (well, only sister who was of age) who doesn’t get regularly fucked, you’ve figured that she’s gotta finger herself A LOT to make the moans you hear from her room... and she has to have something to stimulate all that... and, well, your curiosity gets the better of you. 

You press the power button on the laptop and the screen turns on, showing you what your sister was pleasuring herself to in the wee hours of this morning. Several tabs were open- some erotica, some porn, all BBC. She has pictures and videos of enormous black cocks, stuffed inside dozens of white girls. Some in pussy, some in ass, some getting run train, all looking ecstatic. Familiar stuff to you- your sister has similar tastes. No white dicks though- she seems to like the kinds where those tiny things are kept behind the camera. You can’t really blame her. 

What really catches your eye is a porn page of Mr. Africa- the man with the biggest BBC on earth, nearly three whole feet long. He could touch his chest with the lip of its mean purple head, and it dwarfed every white woman who faced it. You know Mr. Africa has a black wife, as no white girl has ever managed to take his godly cock, though plenty had tried, and plenty more want to try. Including Mary, it seems. How stupid- Mr. Africa was WAY out of any league she could be in. No way would she even get the chance. 

You also notice a story open on her Word doc- a page titled ‘Taking Mr. Africa.’ Of all things it was a fapfiction, 2nd-rarer erotica written about her and some of her few friends having sex with Mr. Africa’s unrivaled cock. She went into vivid detail, writing about how he’d pick up her thighs and slam his ‘monster dick’ across her torso, his huge, grapefruit-sized balls against her weak pussy, his dick going all the way to her cleavage. It seems her self-insert has bigger tits than she really does. 

More paragraphs, about how her friends helped her suck his godly cock, how 8 hands could be on it and not touch at all, how his huge balls smelled like pure sex, making them drool as they smothered their faces. Mary even wrote herself worshipping his ass, eating it out. You know your mom eats her lovers ass often, but you’ve only seen it once. You wonder how many times Mary, just a year older than you, has. She’s clearly seen or read about it some way, based on the detail she puts into describing how she kisses and tongues his black asshole, loving the taste of his anus in her mouth, while her arms wrap around his huge, strong thighs to feel his manly black balls, too big to even fit in her hands. 

You realize how much you want your ass eaten, or at least played with. You’ve been offered BBC dildoes, but never practiced enough to take them. You weren’t a sissy, but you start to consider fingering your butt sometime soon. Maybe a girl would even eat it- after all, yours was bald, pink, and smooth, unlike the rugged manliness of a black man’s. 

You read on, how her 3 friends all work on his cock, one at the tip and two at the sides. How they can’t even come close to fitting any of him in their mouths is written about, along with a description of his thick veins and strong pelvic muscles. She wrote that one of his veins is thicker than most white cocks she’s seen. You’re pretty sure she’s only seen yours and dads, but still, you have to check. Clicking on another tab, you go to his webpage and look at the public pictures of his actual cock- it’s depressingly massive, looking as long as your leg, while you have to pinch your legs together when you compare. His veins might just be thicker than your whole dick. It’s not called a micropenis for nothing. 

You keep reading- how he fucks all of them, getting a half or a quarter of his dick into the others, while Mary cums the second his tip sinks into her hole. 

‘I squirt more than I ever have before, the arc of my juices flying further than I thought they could. Still, as far as my orgasm sent them, they didn’t reach Mr. African’s crotch. His cock was that long.’ 

You gulp as you read that, sore little cocklet hard again. You use her laptop’s touch pad to look at other tabs, many with BBC. One has a comparison of the average white boy, the worlds smallest black man, the worlds biggest white boy, and of course, Mr. African. The average white boy, of course, is a little under two inches or so. You already know that the smallest white penis is impossible to know, because so many are less than a tenth of an inch long. The smallest black man, you’re surprized to know, is a tiny 4.5 inches, not much smaller though than the world record white boy, 5 inches. All are dwarfed by even the average BBC, of course. 

Your sister stirs, mumbling “Babe... uhhhhh... babe.. Gimme... gimme that cock...” she said, wetly smaking her words together as she reaches out her hand, grabbing right in front of you. 

You blush at the thought. Her hand was right there, wanting to grab a cock. Sure, yours was a little white dick, but you wanted it, she wanted it, so-- 

You shuffle forward, letting her fingers rest on your white boi clitty. They rub against it, before starting to almost pet the tiny thing involuntarily. 

"Is thissa cock?" she mutters, eyes closed, "it's smallll.... it's gotta be soft... is it hard? Why'ssit hard.... are you a white boy?" she snickers, "white boy white boy... tiny dick white boy.... thass dumb... I only like black guys.... nobody likes whiteboys... why's it so hard and small?...." she strokes it, easily feeling the entirety of its length with a few fingers, surprised by the tininess. She feels up your little balls, "unnf... not black in the sack... either.... it's like a baby's..." she giggles, letting her hand slip off your throbbing tininess. You jump, not wanting the stimulation to end, and grab her hand to push her palm up against your smooth little member. Her hand engulfs the miniscule thing, feeling warm and soft. You nearly cum. But then- she jumps. 

"What the fuck?!" she yells, looking at you, "Were you- using me to jerk off?!" she sees her laptop, gasps, and swings her leg up to kick your pathetic balls, "and you looked at my porn!? WHAT THE FUCK?" 

You fall onto your hands and knees in pain, muttering an apology, "please don't tell mom- I-I was just supposed to wake you up for breakfast. I didn't mean too..." 

"Stupid little fucking whiteboy can't control himself. Figures. AND you saw me naked. Gross. get the fuck out of my room, bitch, I'll be down for breakfast after I'm done washing my hands." 

You can't do anything but do as she says, and leave her room, hands between your legs, hoping she doesn't tell mom. 

Chapter 5 - And Good Morning Ellie

You close Mary’s door behind you as you put your hand over your white boy dick. It shudders. Small size making it weak against the cold hallway. Your tiny balls are clenched up, ready to cum. If you stroked it once, or even just pushed it down, you’d cum. You know it. 

You walk down the hallway to the banister above the main area of the house. There’s mom, eating Demarcus’ ass on the couch, while Abby’s hubby jerks off with a tissue. Mom never ate ass, but made an exception for her favorite huge, old black lover. She was messy, sloppy, drooling all over Damarcus’ older asshole, licking every inch of it. She probably did it because he’d do it to her- Damarcus adores eating ass, and your moms fat, full ass is probably the best he could get. She rarely came from butt stuff, but that was mostly because her asshole was tight. Both were enjoying this now. Breakfast might have to wait a little. 

You still have to go and wake up your other sisters though, so you probably shouldn’t tug one out here. You turn around, walking back to the twin bedrooms, this time to Ellie’s door. You rub the straining tip of your penis, trying hard as it can to reach that next half inch, as you knock on the door. You stop before you cum, right as it opens. 

You’re greeted by a huge, tall black boy, maybe a few years older than you, leaner than Damarcus. His hair is in a short fade and he’s unshaven on both his face and body, all covered in sweat. Right in front of your body swings his massive, half-hard black cock. It has an even width with a very round head, easily the length of your torso. It twitches, and pushes up against you. You can feel it’s warmth, it’s weight, it’s wetness. Your sisters been fucking this massive pole. Impulsively, you cum. 

Your face turns bright red as you realize Andre, Ellie’s boyfriend, is watching your tiny penis dribble cum into the carpet. He cracks up laughing, slamming his chest with a big, strong hand and the other one in a fist in front of his mouth, yelling “Yooooooo-“ 

He steps back laughing as you feel horribly embarrassed. You should’ve known this was gonna happen. As he steps back, Ellie comes forward. 

God, she’s gorgeous, tanned and curvy, thick legs strapped with muscle. She could probably crush you between those thighs- and your dicklet? Forget it. 

“What’s going on?” She asks. She’s naked too, and her long, strawberry blonde hair is wet with sweat. You wonder how she was fucked through the night. She didn’t have to wonder what you stayed up until 4 am doing, cumming twice every hour since midnight. 

“Your lil bitch brother came right in front of me!” Andre laughs on her bed. He sits on the messy, damp sheets. 

Ellie’s eyes widen and she to cracks up. “HA HA!” she points at you, walking over without bothering to cover her huge tits or perfectly smooth, tanlined crotch. “Bro- did you seriously cum at Andres’ dick? I 

mean, it’s fuckin great, almost like nineteen, twenty inches, but seriously? I didn’t know you were a faggot!” 

You blush, unable to move. She walks, no, struts right over to you with a mocking look on her face. 

“I-I’m not gay,” you insist. 

“Then what are you? If you like men you’re gay, sissy boy. I’ll lick pussy, especially if it has black cum in it, and I don’t give a fuck about if you call me a lesbo. I hear you moaning like a little girl in your room, porn on your tv. Ya watch sissy boy porn, with little white “boy,”” she makes air quotes, “butts being fucked by bbc? Little sissyclits being compared to things like that?” She points to Andre behind her, huge cock swinging as he walks to put his bag of XXL condoms in his letterman’s pocket, “or how your tiny little baby balls shoot watery fucking loads while black dick creams your ass?” 

You can’t keep up with Ellie’s motormouth. She was an excellent speaker- always hyped her team up before games, and always new how to make you feel bad. She’s probably your moms favorite. You’d just have to tell the truth. 

“I c-cummed,” you stutter, “I came because I saw how wet his dick was, and... I imagined it fucking you!” 

That just made her laugh even more, “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” She bent over, letting her big perfect tits flop as they adjusted to gravity. “You little cuck faggot- I’m pretty sure that still makes you gay.” 

“I’m nottt!” You insist, staring at her beautiful tits bounce with every breath and movement she makes. Your pin dick gets hard again, desperately wanting to blow a little load onto your sisters heavenly tits. A single nipple could probably smother your miniscule hard on as her massive, fit ass was clapped by a huge cock. 

“Look Andre, he’s getting hard again!” She points, struggling to no collapse from laughing at you. 

“Babe, he’s a whiteboy, what do you expect? Let him have his fun,” said Andre in a cool, deep voice, walking out of the bathroom looking perfectly clean with smooth, chocolatey skin and a cock hung like your arm, “Ay, whiteboy, wanna play a game?” 

“A- a game?” You ask. You try to avoid staring at his half hard megacock, then try to avoid looking jealously at his lean and roundedly muscled body, until you look at his face. 

“Yeah. I’m horny, youre horny, how about we jerk off and see how we compare? I’ll go easy on you, totally loose, no stamina, got it?” 

“Well- I can't do much-“ 

“C'mon boy, it’ll be fun. Did Ellie ever tell you bout how when I was fucking Mrs. Danksworth, all her family members watched? I’d say you’re bigger than all those white boys.” 

“Not that that’s saying much,” laughs Ellie on the bed. 

“Okay- but we need to get breakfast!” You insist. 

“Won’t take too long. I’ll even stand further back than you. I wanna see how that little thing shoots,” 

“You’re fucking gay too, Andre,” laughs Ellie. 

“So what I like fuckin white boys? They look like girls anyways!” Both laugh at you. 

“I still need to wake up Jenny and Katie and-“ 

“Cmon lil bro, we know you’re a quick shot!” Mocks Ellie. 

“Fine,” you surrender like a typical white boy. 

“Aight,” he says, “Ellie, put on a show with that gorgeous ass of yours.” 

She smiled, bending over on the bed and sticking her ass up, beginning to shake it in wide circles. It ripples with muscles and the smallest two few of fat, swollen from the thousands of squats she religiously did just to show off to black guys. She warmed up a bit, the broke into a full on twerk. 

“Mm babe, twerk that ass,” says Andre, hand going all the way up and down his massive pole of a cock, jerking off as his girlfriend, your sister, twerks like a pro. He arches is back and relaxes, knowing that whatever he does it’ll be more than satisfying for any horny white girl. 

You jerk your little cock to her too, but to hope that you can clean it from her asscheek instead of the carpet, you hobble forward, hand tightly around and totally hiding your hairless dick. Your little balls clench as your hear the sound of her ass clapping right in front of you. You smell the sweet, horny sweat of her legs too, the kind she always smelled like when she came home after winning a volleyball game and getting fucked in the locker room. This was your weakness. 

It was all your weakness- Ellie was always the ‘dominant’ sister of her age range, as both Coral and Abby were quite a bit older than her, as compared to how the two sets of twins in your family were so close. Ellie always domineered over you along with mom, and was influential in Jenny’s development as a BBC slut just like all the rest of them. Ellie was often sweet, but whenever people from school were around, she was crueler than Mary. Just getting to jerk off to her twerking ass, for real, not in your 3 am fantasies, was a blessing. 

“Mmm fuck,” moaned Andre, dick wet and slick and with sloppy noises to boot, “I’m not even gonna try to control myself- I’m cummin fast as I can!” 

You keep jerking off, instead of using a few fingers, instead using your full hand, and your other to massage your balls. You wish you could control yourself, but honestly, it’s impossible to take your hand off your cold little baby dick, especially with Andre’s hot, massive member just feet away. You hope you can at least control your orgasm better than ever before, so that you and Andre can meet in the middle for cumming on Ellie. It wasn’t likely though. You really were a quickshot. 

Surprisingly enough with a strong, manly, “ARRGGGHHHHH,” from Andre, he aggressivley slammed his hand against his crotch and threw his head back as he came, huge, hanging black balls tightening up to deliver yet another load in this room, already smelling deliciously like black cum. 

He shot a massive arc of hot, thick ropes onto Ellie, practically cumming on her from across the room, landing in thick, strong pools on her back and bed, with one drop going splat on her sheets just close enough for her to lick. Another lands on her asscheek, a big glob of superior cum jostled by her fast ass-shaking. 

She stops twerking, using her thin hands to gather up her boyfriend’s delicious cum and eat it right up. Thanks to how much she twerked, all the cum blasted into her guts was upset, and soon came flowing from her used butthole. 

You waddle forward, feeling the little squirt inside your crotch that tells your excuse for a dick you’re about to cum. You do, lifting your thin hips to try and get as close to her butt as possible, 

You cum, tiny little spurts jumping out of the quivering tip of your dick. Some land on the muscular upper portion of her ass, well-lit by her girly ceiling fan. Most just grazed the supple skin of the curve of her ass, little drops barely sticking onto them. Some fell onto her feet. 

“Goddamn! I was like 6 feet back and I still came farther than you, boy!” laughed Andre. 

“And nobody was surprised,” smiled Ellie evily, holding her hand between her soft thighs to cup the cum flowing from her asshole and closing her legs so they didn’t drip further. You stare at your little droplets sprinkled on them, feeling that this was your best orgasm today. You knew what came next. 

Ellie stretched out her right leg, the one you came on. "Lick it up!" she demanded. Your cleaning duties were not a surprise. 

If black cum tasted like thick, sweet and salty drink, and girl's juice was sticky sweet nectar, than your wimpy little fluids were probably best described as sugar water. 

You swallowed every drop. 

Chapter 6 - A Good Morning to Jenny

After sucking the sweet sweat and your thin cum from Ellie’s goddess ass, you told them to go down for brunch soon. Your face was beet red the whole time. 

You excused yourself, waking across the hall to your room to check your phone for messages. Some from your friends, all boys. Why would girls text you of all people anyways? 

After that, you went to the room next to yours, but on the other side. While on the right wall, where the bed was up against, was your mom’s room, the other side, to the left, was your twin sister, Jenny’s room. 

Jenny has light auburn hair and a thin frame and, like you, above average assets. For you, it was an extra almost-inch to your penis, but for her, it was perfectly smooth skin, especially for her big perky tits and round sexy ass. The only blemishes on her were three freckles on the bridge of her nose, which might have made her cuter. 

She was probably the sister you knew best, bro your twin. You often had the same classes together and would even help her send nudes to her boyfriends sometimes, but she also had a rough edge. She was sort of Ellie’s opposite, who was nice in public but loved tormenting you in private. Jenny was always cruel to you at school, but was rather nice at home. “It’s just social shit. No need to get so pissy about it,” she told you when you once asked why she loved joining in when you were being bullied. “I actually really like you, bro, but what would the girls think if I showed it? Besides, little white dicks are literally always so funny.” 

You didn’t like that part of her. Yeah, gossiping after school and talking about movies and books and tv was fun, but she was always cold when you wanted her to be consistent in her affection. You wish you’d gotten more out of everything you’ve done for her. You’ve made her lunches, shaved her pussy, helped her in homework. You even told her the penis sizes of every white boy in the grade. Nobody but Jenny and you knew you did that. If she cared enough to keep the secret, of course. 

Still, you knew that once school started, she’d become a total sadist to you. You just figured it was how white girls were. Maybe you should learn your place better. 

You open her door. Her room had girly lavender furniture, with a desk, nightstand, shelf, and dresser all the same color wood, with the same white carpet as everywhere else in the upstairs, and pale rosy walls. The room looked enchanting with her lacy white curtains, but it was freezing. 

She always kept her room cold, while you liked it warm. It makes your balls feel like they could swing just a little bit, and your dick hang a few fractions of an inch lower. This cold air makes your ballsack wrinkle up against your little whiteboy taint like a lump, and your pee pee shrivels inside your body until it looks like a little bug bite. 

Jenny especially liked it when dicks were really tiny. Yours especially. 

She had never had a white boyfriend, and only had a few flings with black boys in the past 2 years of high school. Now, though, you see someone next to her in bed. It’s a long, thin, smooth black hand over her shoulder as she sleeps. 

“Jenny?” You whisper, trying to get her up. You poke her cheek to make her stir, but then feel some weird texture on it. You realize this is the same thing you often woke up feeling in your smooth, hairless white tummy, but much thicker. 

It’s cum. Your twin sisters face is covered in cum! 

You pull down the covers to expose her body. She’s totally naked, and beautiful as ever. Her tits had gotten even rounder since the last time you took nudes for her. Her pubic hair was shaved into a cute, neat little landing strip. You’re jealous of her hair down there. 

On the other side of her, you almost think it’s a girl with how lean the deep black body was. But you know Jenny wasn’t a lesbian, and all of the black guys at your school are manlier than this. So what gives? 

Then the body turns over, and you see why Jenny was sleeping with him. He has an average black dick, a hugely long thing, even though it’s half hard at most. It’s longer than your arm, and very smooth. Almost as smooth as your immature teeny white thing. Weird. 

Then Jenny stirred. “Wha..” she blinked, rubbing her hand from her sexy belly button to her puss. That’s one of moms mannerisms. She does it after she got fucked. 

“Jenny!” You whisper, covering your microdick with your little hand, “who is that guy?” 

“Wha- oh, shit!” She jumps up quickly, but with enough grace to not wake the boy who fucked her up. She gets on her feet, being a hair taller than you despite technically being younger, and puts her hands on your shoulders. “Please don’t tell mom about him. Pretty please?” 

“H-hey Jenny,” you stutter, scared of how close her pussy and tits to the wimpier dick in the room, “why would she care? She’s happy with the rest fucking any guys they like here. What’s wrong with this?” 

“It’s just..” she blushes. You were one of the only people Jenny would let herself blush in front of. Well, at home at least, at school she loved bullying you and all your tiny dicked friends for that exact reason. She continues, “he's my boyfriend!” 

You pause. “Jenny, that’s great! How long have you been dating?” 

“Three months,” she admits. 

“That’s so wonderful! Your longest boyfriend ever! Why haven’t you told anyone?” You’re genuinely happy that she’s in a relationship with a black guy with such a long dick. It makes you happy that she’ll be fucking that thing every night for the next few months. And a little horny. 

“We aren’t public yet. So you’d better not tell anyone. Got it?” 

“Okay, okay,” you say, backing up from her naked body. She really is a beautiful girl, with perky tits that bounce like gel packs, with a marvelously thin body and just enough flesh on her tummy to be squeezable. You can’t see her ass, but just thinking of the round, perked thing makes the tiny, straw-like rod of your micropenis buzz at its very base, deep inside your pathetic, cum-eating, horny little servile white boy body. 

It’s not fair how effortlessly she looks so good, when your white boy body was so unimpressive, with a featureless torso, narrow shoulders, and skinny arms. You loved her for it though. 

“And stop checking me out!” she snaps with a hushed whisper. “Why are all white boys such incestous little creeps?” 

“D-didn’t you have me shave your taint once when you were face timing Lee after you traded nudes?” You try to sound cocky in your defence, but your stutter makes it sound wimpy. It was cocky, if cockiness was applied to tiny white cocks. 

“Shut up,” she turns redder, “I’m warning you! Besides, it doesn’t count if they’re half brothers. And black!” 

“Okay, okay,” You say, trying to whisper again as the black guy on the bed stirred. He didn’t look too strong, but you were always afraid of how bad any black guy could hurt you. Especially with a cock like that. It looked like a skyscraper! Yours was, at best, a house. Not even this house, this house was two stories and an attic. Like a one story house. You shudder, trying to shake the thought of huge black dicks compared to the misplaced pinkie toe on your crotch after how much Ellie called you gay. “So,” you say, trying to get back on subject, “Why do you wanna keep this a secret? And who is he?” 

She gets really close to your face, like she was scared mom would hear, even though she’s obviously downstairs, moaning while Damarcus fucks her. “His name’s Jaylon, and he’s gonna be a freshman starting this next year.” 

“A freshman?” you ask, realizing why he didn’t look as manly “Wait, so you started dating him back when he was in-” 

“I know!” she hushes. 

“By the time he’s our age we’ll be starting college!” 

“I know!” she grabs you again, “I met him last year as a student ambassador. He’s a really, really good distance runner. Not the fastest or the strongest, but he had stamina like nobody the talent scouts have ever seen,” she says. 

“Stamina?” you joke. 

“Yeah,” she breathes hotly, biting her lower lip and staring off into space with her doe eyes. You look at her little nose freckles and feel her cold hands on her arms. Your little dick moves a little, getting just a 

tiny bit out of its teenie weenie shelter. “He was so fucking good last night. Came like a firehose.” 

Very recently, you remember how Jenny said that you came like a leaky faucet. 

“But... he’s just a kid,” you say defensively. 

“Blah, blah,” she backs up, crossing her arms, “You know you aren’t even half the man he is.” 

You feel embarrassed. Your clitty likes it. 

“So... Jenny’s dating a guy who isn’t even a freshman yet...” you say to yourself. 

That gets her upset, as expected. You know your sister. She’s the only person you’ve ever been able to act confident in front of. That’s been increased by the long summer meaning she hasn’t publicly humiliated you once. That would soon change. 

“Don’t you dare fucking tell anyone. Please, please don’t! I’ll literally do anything!” 

“Anything?” You ask her, thinking of Coral. “C-c-can I fuck you?” you stutter excitedly. 

She stops. “Can you.. What?” 

You suddenly turn very red. 

She rolls her eyes. “You’re fucking gross. You really wanna fuck Jaylon’s sloppy seconds? He may be younger than you, but his cum is probably, like, ten times thicker than anything your wimpy little balls ever whipped up. You really want that?” 

You nod, stroking your tiny worm to hardness. 

She sighs. “Fine. But you’ll literally never tell a soul, even after we go public. That’s not your place. And you’d better not make a sound, or Jaylon will kill you,” she adds venomously. 

“I promise,” you say 

“I sure won’t be making a peep,” she rolls her eyes. 

You waddle over to her with your dickie between two fingers. 

“Ugh,” she closed her eyes, “Just stop touching it! You know I hate little white dicks.” 

“S-sorry,” you mutter, licking your lips like a little pervert as you wrap your arms around your twin sister’s as you slowly raise your effeminate crotch to meet hers. With them very close together, your nubby little dick is finally close enough to rub against the folded opening to her pussy. She closes her eyes. You get ready to go into your second pussy today, and have sex for the second time in your life. 

But then, as the weak, pink tip of your puny penis pushed open her labia, her hole gapes open, and out 

runs a huge glob of thick, pearly cum. 

The fat drop of cum that Jaylon had shot in her pussy hours ago comes flowing out with a bubbly pop. It falls right onto your dick, and that one, single drop of nut covers your entire penis. If your dicklet was a caterpillar, this thick, sticky cum was its cocoon. Some even gets some on your balls. You don’t know if that says more about how much cum Jaylon’s balls make, or how truly tiny white boys’ dicks were. 

Either way, the way the hot, sticky fluid felt all over your shaky little penis was too much. It actually sticks to your penis, unlike any pussy, which is far two wide for you to feel anything. You moan pathetically as you enjoy this cum on your dick. It’s too much for you. You cum, shooting out maybe two little drops. They get lost in Jaylon’s. 

“What’s happening?” she opens her eyes as more drops of cum flow down out of her pussy, actually pleasuring her, which she didn’t expect you to do. “Oh,” she says, trying not to laugh, “You got my creampie. Told you you’d be fucking sloppy seconds.” 

You don’t do anything as you let more hot cum drip from her cunt to your smooth little crotch. Your face is beet red. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. 

“I- I already came,” you choke. 

She really laughed then “Seriously? You didn’t even fucking put it in me? You came just by feeling his cum?” 

You nod, “It’s just... so hot.” 

“Well, it is better than anything that could come out of your little dick,” she ruffles your hair. Suddenly, Jaylon starts to get up. “Fuck,” she whispers, “If you don’t wanna get you ass kicked, clean it all off yourself! Make sure not one drop hits the floor! I know mom makes sure you’re an expert cleaner!” 

You obey her, scooping up his huge loads of cum and your tiny little one off your body with your hands, pouring it into your mouth and licking your fingers clean. Then you put your mouth on her pussy, pushing her back into her nightstand, and suck all the fluid you can out of her. 

“What’s goin’ on?” asks Jaylon as he sits up. 

“My little brother is just cleaning my creampie like a good whiteboi, you know?” she tells him, pushing your face deeper in her creamy crotch. 

“Aight. I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he says, getting out of bed. 

After he’s gone, and your twin is all clean, you get up from eating her pussy. 

“Okay bro,” she says, sounding awake, “Why’d you even come in here? You know you aren’t allowed to just jerk off to us whenever you want anymore. Mom'll kill you." 

"Wha-" you wipe the cum from your lips. "Oh, yeah, mom wanted me to tell you breakfast was ready. Max is making it today." 

"That's it?" 

You nod. 

"You're a dumbass." She says. 

"Well... I gotta get Katie and Lily up," you say, leaving. That was the nicest thing you've done with your sister in a long time.

Chapter 7 - A Good Morning for Lily

What always struck you odd (when your little whiteboi brain was actually thinking about the silly, nerdy things whitebois liked to think about when they weren’t rubbing off, getting ready to rub off, or cleaning up their puny cums) was how the room arrangement changed when you got to the younger sisters. Most of the upstairs was taken up by the open space above the big family room, with a chandelier hanging down. It was what you saw when you first walked into the house. If you went straight in and took a bit of a left, you’d go up the rounded staircase to the landing and upstairs hallway. Right in front of that was the master bedroom. It was big and luxurious, and had total access to the back balcony. Black boys would sometimes jump off it into the pool in the back. When your mom wasn’t home, of course. But the hallway was rather normal. It went straight back, with a bathroom at the end. On either side of that were the oldest sisters, Abby and Coral, and then on the sides were the two sets of twin’s rooms, Mary and Ellie, and you and Jenny. At the end on the right side, right next to yours, was the guest bedroom. You could go from oldest to youngest child by walking down the hall, but that was ruined when you got to turn to the two bedrooms whose doors overlooked the living room, because the first door was your youngest sister, and the second was your second-youngest. Oh well. You were still going to get them up in order. First you went to your youngest sister, Lily’s room. You knock on the door. It actually opens itself. Well, Lily opened it. Either way, you think to yourself, finally. You wouldn’t have to shake your sisters off of their horny all-nighter activit- Actually, when the door swung wide open, your petite little sister Lily was totally naked. “L-Lily! What are you doing? Why are you naked.” With big, pretty hazel eyes, Lily just blinked and looked you up and down. She cracked a teeny bit of a smirk when going over your exposed little thing. “You’re naked too,” she pointed out. Oh- yeah, that’s true. “But I was doing this to help mom with her bull…” you explained. “Okay, well, mommy said that I should sleep naked too if I was feeling funny around her and our sister’s bulls,” she explained right back. Feeling funny? Oh. You knew this was going to happen eventually. Katie was finally getting to the age where it was legal to fuck black men. And that age was chosen for a reason. That reason was that it was what girls wanted. She was probably getting insanely horny over every black guy she saw, and even more when there were ones in the bedrooms so close to hers. She stretched and yawned big. “I’m so tired!” “Tired?” You asked, “It’s one in the afternoon!” “Yeah, but I got to sleep at like 4 am!” 4 am? What was she doing? You were gonna ask her, but then you noticed a new poster on her wall- she was a teenage girl, so of course she had a bunch of pretty boys plastered all over the wall. Most of them were whitebois or korean guys, all looking super effeminate with smooth, pale skin and big eyelashes. It kind of made you feel good that girls liked the sort of guy you were. Sure, you were tiny and effeminate, but at least they thought you were cute! Something big changed though. In the middle of her wall, put over all her old posters and stickers, was a 4-foot-tall pin up of a black model, buff as hell, oiled up so his dark brown skin was shiny, covered in tattoos, and with a bulge in his underwear that went down to his knees. “W-what were you doing to stay up so late?” you asked. “Oh,” she giggled, “I was playing with myself!” “Playing with yourself?” you had to ask. “Yes! With my kitty!” she smiled big. Lily spread her little legs open and showed you her pink, bare pussy. It had some juices still in it, and plenty of white stuff coated her folds, “Katie taught me how to touch it last week,” she ran a finger through it. Damn! “And she showed me how good this button thing here feels!” she pointed at her clitoris. “Yeah,” you explain, “that’s your clit. It’s the best part of a girl’s body. That’s what mom always tells me when I- uhmm…” you stop out of embarrassment. “When you eat her out after her bulls fuck her?” she asked with another giggle. “Y-yeah,” you say. You really never had it confirmed how much your baby sister knew. You liked to think it was nothing, that she was perfect and innocent. That couldn’t be the case of course. Not with her too being raised in the same house as the mother of all snowbunny sluts.  That BBC-loving MILF was a horrible influence on your little sister- but it was soooo hot. “W-what did you touch yourself thinking of?” you had to ask that too. “Oh- I was thinking of being a real big girl- like mommy! And getting to feel really good all day, everyday, from those big hot black guys!” “Just like our sisters…” you muttered. You hoped Lily would still be nice to you, even though she’d embraced being another black only girl in the black ruled world.   “Yeah,” she smiled, oblivious, “and all my friends sisters too! They’ve all started to touch themselves thinking of black boys, like we’re big girls!” her eyes were so wide and excited, “Aren’t you proud of us!” “Yeah…” you said, thinking of how mad mommy would get if she learned you were trying to make Lily stop falling in love with black men. But on the other hand, your insecurity about your tiny, pathetic little white nub, all hard because of your virginal little sister, made you talk. “But I thought you liked white boys? Or those k-pop guys?” She made a face. “Yeah… they’re really cute! But Katie and Ellie and Mommy always tell me, white boys are cute, but black guys are HOT! And look at the new poster I got,” she pointed at the buff, nearly naked black man on her wall, “he’s so hot. Like, you’re cute,” she said. “Wait, really?” you ask. “Oh yeah- I’ve talked to girls who are all like ‘oh, Lily, your big brothers so cute!’ I can’t say who though…” she smirked, “but anyways- you’re cute, but you’re kinda, erm, small, and you aren’t really that muscular, but look at him!” she pointed at him again, “he’s soooo hot! I was up all night touching myself thinking about him!” It really was over. Everyone in your house was a total slave to the BBC. But of course, you were so, so turned on by it. Your little clit dick was dripping. If either of you barely rubbed it, it’d probably dripple the biggest load of today onto her carpet. Ignoring your babydick as you knew all girls would, she stretched again and put on a big t-shirt to cover all her pink little girly bits. “I’m hungry, bro. When’s breakfast ready?” “It’s brunch,” you corrected, “and it actually should be ready by now. That’s why mommy actually told me to come get you.” “Oh, alright,” she nodded, running up to you, and to your big surprise, hugged you! She jumped on you and gave you a big hug, digging her head and soft, sweaty hair into your chest, “Thanks bro! I love you!” She then just kept running downstairs, that big t-shirt flapping, almost revealing her butt and pussy a few times. You looked, but didn’t dare leave the room. Your clitty was so hard… so ready to collapse into another tiny bitchboy orgasm. You thought about her small, pink little budding tits press against you, how good they felt now that her girly little boobies were growing a bit. You imagined them growing bigger, like your other sisters’ had. Would she stay the nicest of them? Or would she be cruel with her newly growing body? As much as you wished she’d be your sweet, loving baby sister forever, you knew that now that she was legal, she’d become a true slut for BBC. If she wanted to abuse you and tease you and rub your face in it, it was her right. You thought of her titties growing when a black guy makes her pregnant. And of course, of her smooth, young buttcheeks under that shirt, rubbing together as she ran. You thought the same about her wet pussy and pink little asshole. How long until she began anal play? It scared and excited you. Maybe you would help her. After all, with your small body and tiny penis, you were proportioned perfectly to have sex with a girl her size. But that would never happen. It was disgusting, you knew, to want that with your little sister. Your mom would kill you, not because you were gross, but because you touched her- after all, your mom had no issue with being gross, happily making you eat her anal creampies. If you were lucky, Lily would let you do that after she got fucked. Fucked by a real man. You felt so frustrated. Her pussy and ass had to be so tiny, but of course, those massive, spoiled black cocks had exclusive rights to them. Black men were soon gonna start doing whatever they wanted with her as they pleased, and you had to let them. Let their big cocks stretch out her holes, while you’d always be cucked and denied. It was just the way the world was meant to be. That was all it took. You shuddered, feeling your little sissy butthole tighten up, your balls clench even smaller. Relief came. You’d be denied forever, as a white boy, but at least your mommy decided she’d let you cum, right? As you came, you thought how good that tiny, watery drop, leaking from your babypenis’ head, sliding down the full inch and a half of your shaft, and sitting on the little line of skin down the middle of your tiny, smooth balls, felt. It felt so damn good, cumming from knowing how inferior you were. As you left the room, tiny cumstain on your pathetic balls, you felt better about how your sister would stop loving you, and only have eyes for black men and their glorious cocks. It was the way things were meant to be. Peepee sore from cumming without being touched, you went out of Lily’s room and went to Katie’s on the right.

Chapter 8 - And lastly, Good Morning to Katie

Right down the short walkway on the landing from Lily’s room is your other young sister, Katie’s room. Unlike Lily, who’s room only had one small window to the left of her bed, Katie is lucky enough to get a big window that totally took up the left side of her room. You’re still distracted from the high of your beta orgasm that you totally forget to knock, and barge right into Katie’s room. “Hey hottie,” she said as she heard the door open. Then she turned around. “Ew- what the fuck- it’s you?” She looks disgusted, which, to be fair, is expected. You are, after all, walking into her room totally naked with that tiny white clitdick exposed, a few messy drops of cum on your underdeveloped balls, and during a time you shouldn’t have been in her room at all, it seemed. It looks like Katie’s putting on a little show for people outside. Her blinds were all the way up and her curtains to the side. There was a perfect line of sight from her room to the street below, and vice versa. It looked like some of the neighbor boys, both white and black, were looking up at her voyeuristically. Katie had put a chair by the window and spread her legs. Her pale, pretty feet were on the window. In her hand was a white wand vibrator, which she was pleasing herself with for who knows how long before you came in. “Hello? What the fuck are you doing here, you fucking loser?” she demands as she turns off her toy. She’s not happy, But then again, she never is with you. She’s just one of those girls who loves torturing white boys. There’s no real explanation, your younger sister is just a little sadist. “You gonna answer, loser? Sheesh, I can’t believe I’m related to you. I’m so fucking tired and your dumbass has to barge into my room too? Mom just fucking cage you.” “N-no,” you said, the threat of your poor little clit-dick locked in a cold, cruel chastity cage made you remember, “I- wait, you’re tired too Why are you up doing… this?” She rolls her eyes, standing up and bending over to spread her asscheeks to the cheering group below. Your pervy little mind wished you were down there, able to see even the tiniest glimpse of your little sister's asshole. “I couldn’t sleep,” she presses her butt right against the glass, “Not with Lily being so fucking loud.” “Loud?” You ask. “Yeah. I told her how to masturbate and shit, and she went crazy these past few nights. She’s always screaming about how good it feels. She sounds worse than Abby,” she rolls her eyes, “I guess you’re not the only fuck up in this house, huh? I made a pretty big mistake. When Coral moves back out I think I’m gonna take her room, I can’t stand that loud bitch.” You feel very hurt by that. After all, Lily might be your favorite sister. “H-hey,” you defended, “L-lily’s just exploring herself. She’s allowed to cum as much as she wants. It’s healthy for her to be sexually satisfied, right? Just like you are.” Just as you said that, with one hand on her chair and the other between her legs holding that vibrator, her whole back starts shaking. Her legs against the window quake, and her anus must be puckering so tight against the glass. Finally, she gets release, and squirts everywhere. “Ahhh!” she moans as squirts of sweet clear pussy water shoot out onto her window and drip down onto the cushioned bench right below it. It already looked stained from a few squirts earlier, but this time, it’s a total mess. “Mmmm,” she sounds so satisfied, “Show’s over until that gets cleaned up,” she smiles, standing up and dropping her vibe. “See that? That’s fucking satisfaction. I didn’t know how to really make myself squirt for years. Lily should stop trying to rush shit, and actually let me fucking sleep.” “M-maybe you’re just different,” you say, “some girls only need to cum- well, how many times have you?’ “This morning? 3 or 4. I bet it’s less than you have when going into everyone’s room to wake them up.” Instead of finishing your point, you just look down and blush. How does she know? “I’m right, right? I’m guessing- you stroke for a good 30 seconds when you get up, right? Then you probably cum when eating mommy’s creampie out, no? You might even cum twice then, she always gets bulls with a lot of cum… and then you probably get to cum with Max when you wake Abby up, then you don’t even have to touch yourself to cum looking at Coral’s dried pussy juice all over her toy collection. Ellie and Mary won’t let you cum, but you’ll probably cum at least once just by trying to hard not too, because you’re a fucking loser. Jenny’s way too nice to you, she’ll probably let you jerk off while she’s on the toilet or something. I fucking hope you didn’t cum when you woke up Lily, because you should literally get your balls chopped off if you did that. So you probably did. That’s what… 7 or 8 orgasms for you?” “S-something like that,” was all you could manage to say. “Fuck, you’re fucked up. I don’t even wanna know,” she hopped off her chair and went to her dresser, where she put on some pink panties. “Don’t fucking look at me when I’m changing, perv. Mom should fucking castrate you.” You gulp. “Y-yes, I know. S-sorry.” She laughs, “yeah, that’s all whiteboys know how to say. I can’t wait to see how many of the boys watching busted in their pants while staring at my booty. I’m shocked you didn’t,” she says, but then looks down at your tiny balls. “Oh- did you?” she starts cracking up, “Is that fucking cum? Holy shit, you fucking did! Did you even touch yourself?” “N-no!” you jump back. Your tiny package bounces just a little bit. “I-it was from earlier!” She walks forward to you, bending over and pinching your tiny clitdick with her two little fingers. She lifts it up to look at your balls. “It’s still wet- how long ago did you cum?” “Um, 3 or 4 minutes ago…” you tell the truth. “So right before you came here- you fucking came to Lily, didn’t you?” she shouted, angrily slapping your little nuts. “Owwwww,” you weakly whine in pain. “You’re so fucking sick! What would mom think? She’d probably just laugh at you, but still. You’re the worst fucking white beta I know, and that’s saying a lot! I’d fucking kick you in the nuts, but you’re probably too impotent to even feel it. Ugh!” You can’t help but blush and get hard. Though Katie was only a year younger than you, she was superior to you in every way. “Stop fucking blushing!” She growls as she turns around to keep getting dressed, “And make that nub you call a dick get less hard! I can’t fucking stand whiteboi stiffies near me,” she said, slipping on some black leggings, “When I have kids, if any of them are fucking boys- well, white “boys’” she makes air quotes, “I’m not gonna do any of mom’s ‘let them cum so they don’t try and touch girls’ bullshit. I don’t care what doctors of Church of the BBC magazine writers say, it obviously doesn’t fucking work. I’m putting any fucking white sons I push out in cages 24/7.” “W-why are you telling me this?” you ask, struggling to hide your tiny boner. She shrugs. “You taught me it’s fun torturing whitebois. It’s the one thing you’re good for. Stop staring at my tits,” she said, putting on a tight t-shirt.” “S-sorry.” “Yeah, whatever. You told Lily brunch is ready, right?” she asks. “Yeah, we should go down.” “Yeah, I will. First I wanna go outside and see if any of those cucks stayed by the house hoping to get some,” she laughed, “but before that,” she walked over to the bathroom she and Lily shared, and brought some paper towels, “you’re gonna clean up my squirts. And use your tongue as cleaning spray.” “Y-yes Katie, of course,” you go over and grab the towels, heading over to keel on her bench and start licking at and wiping your window. “Nuh-uh,” she says right as you start, “stand up. Show off your boy pussy. I wanna post this on Snowgram.” W-what? She was gonna post your white boy hole on social media? That really scared you, but it was so humiliating, it turned you on. That made it worse. Would everyone see your tiny clit? They’d laugh at it, wouldn’t they. “Oh come on, hurry up,” she says, taking out her phone. You obey her, spreading your legs wide to show off that smooth, pink bussy. You hear the phone click as she laughs. “Aright, see ya bro. I’m gonna go eat now,” she walks away. You stay, licking up her pussy juice and residues from her nasty window. It must’ve been days since it was cleaned. Thankfully, you’re a good worker. When you finish, you go back to your room. Your phone is out, with its BLACKED porn background. You open it, go to snowgram, and look at the latest posts. Sure enough, there’s Katie, with a picture of your exposed beta boi ass, captioned ‘cleaning- the one thing white brothers are good for!” Before that post was one of her holding her vibrator between her legs as she woke up, announcing her ‘show’ this morning. It had a ton of white boys from her grade commenting about it, but she pinned one from a girl; “All these white boys tryna shoot their shot, boi u can’t even shoot past your balls!” It had the most likes too. As you read that, you shot another drop of cum. It didn’t go past your balls either You added it to the pile of barely wet tissues in your garbage bin. The trash, where whiteboy cum belongs. Then, you go downstairs for breakfast.

Chapter 9 - Brunch 

You reach down between your legs and feel your balls. Rather, your ballsack. The tiny little testicles in that flimsy little bag of skin are totally shriveled up thanks to you cumming 8 times already today. Those poor little glands are already exhausted by producing so much worthless little sperm… and it wasn’t even 2pm yet! You’d probably cum plenty more times today. It would surely end up being just impotent, clear prostate fluid. Well… more impotent than usual. You sniffle at your inferiority. You’re at the top of the stairs, and look down at the clatter below. You walk over to your room and get your clothes on, a simple pair of black shorts and white t-shirt over your unimpressive little body. Then you go downstairs to finally eat brunch. The kitchen is visible right at the bottom of the stairs, which are right in front of the hallway where you and all your siblings' bedrooms are. At the bottom of those stairs was a glossy marble floor, just like the rest of the house. There was also a lower, carpeted living room area with fluffy floors and white and red couches, and even a TV from a tall divider between the living room and the marble. Your mom’s a good decorator, with pretty white and red flowers all on top. To the right of that was the entryway, and to the left was the kitchen. The kitchen is a large space with white tile floors, lined with kitchen appliances that had an island in the middle. In the far corner, next to the back door, was a small table. In the front, close to the living room, was a bigger glass table. Your whole family is already eating. Your mom was at the head of the table, with Damarcus next to her. He was shirtless, but even though he wore gym shorts, the massive, fat snake in them peaked out. He selfishly grabbed at her thick thigh. On the opposite side of the table was Coral, with Mary slouched between her and Ellie. Andre had his arm around Ellie. He was so fucking cocky. On the other side of the table were Jenny, Jayvon, Lily, and Katie. Meanwhile, at the small table, Abby and her man, Julius, and her cuck boi, Max. You gulp as you go to take your seat right next to Katie. She still looks disgusted by you. “H-hey, thanks for getting my food today,” you said. Sometimes, if Abby was making breakfast, she wouldn’t give you any food, and you’d just have to get something yourself. “Oh, sweetie, thank Max. You white boys sure do know how to stick together,” your Mom smiled at you. Max, over with his wife and her bull, was getting his little dick teased from under his shorts by Abby. Though the three were off on their own, with Julius eating his fill of breakfast. Max was struggling to not acknowledge his arousal. Instead, he just kept thanking Julius over and over for enjoying his cooking. After all, if he so much as moaned from having his little dick touched by his wife’s feet, he’d be punished. It wasn’t a whitebois role to be turned on, especially not in public. Cruel girls like Abby didn’t give a shit though. It turns you on a little, as shameful as it feels. Max must’ve been ashamed too, after all, the massive bulge in Julius’ shorts was obvious. It wasn’t like he could ever measure up to what his wife really enjoyed, and he had to thank Julius for everything he did. Being a cuckboi was harder than it looked. “Son,” scolded your mom. You look back at her. You know that you aren’t supposed to start drooling at your sister’s feet. But you definitely weren’t supposed to drool at your mommy’s tits either. “Sorry, mom,” you whisper. You just look down at your food and start eating. This was a snowbunny’s household, and you were ignored. To stay out of trouble, you should ignore them too. But still, you didn’t wanna make the silence awkward. Or make silence in the first place. These people were your family, after all. Now that your mom was calmed down compared to how she was after those hours of being plowed by Damarcus, she could be an attentive mother. Even Ellie or Katie weren’t gonna attack you over breakfast. You look over at Jenny and Jaylon. While Damarcus dwarfed your mom, Andre made Ellie look just as small as Mary, and Julius was the king of the table where ‘Max’s’ family sat, Jaylon was the only small black boy there. Not that he was any smaller down there. Still… you had to ask. “So, um, Jaylon,” you say respectfully. You know you should be submissive to your black masters, even the younger ones, “you met my mom now?” “Howdya know my name, whiteboi?” he asked, looking over. He even spoke with a high pitched voice. But he degraded you like any other superior. It really was humiliating. First, your twin sister was stolen by this black kid, then your dignity in the family. As if you had much. “Because I told him, baby,” sighed Jenny, patting Jaylon’s hand, “Anyway bro, yeah, I told mom about us. She was really approving! I was kinda surprised… but I’m glad we all respect who we love, right?” she asked. She glared distinctly at Coral. “That’s not exactly how I remember it, Jenny,” smiled your mom. “I remember you freaking out when you tried to get him out the door this morning! You should know better that your momma’s got a soft spot for cute things like Jaylon. I told everyone here…. Who wasn’t late… to congratulate Jenny on her new boyfriend.” Jenny leaned back to talk to you, “Don’t sweat it bro, you already congratulated me enough,” she smiled. “Ayo, what’s that mean?” Jaylon asked. “Nothing baby,” she said as she checked her phone, “He just does all my chores and shit. He’s my brother.” she shrugged. At least someone appreciates the only whiteboy in the family. “Still, I think it’s funny that Jenny’s first boyfriend is some lightskin little kid. If she said she wanted to date whitebois, I’m sure mom would be okay with that too,” laughed Coral. Of course she had to be the one bringing up sex with whitebois. The subject actually made you uncomfortable. After all, it just felt like more pressure to perform. It was easier having a tiny dick and being a quickshot when that was all that was expected from you. It was harder when deviant girls like Coral actually wanted to have normal sex! “Damn, why’s this bitch gotta compare me to a whiteboi?” complained Jaylon. “It’s okay baby,” calmed Jenny, “My big sister is just a fucking weirdo.” She stuck her tongue out. “Oh, boo hoo. I’m in college, I’m supposed to experiment and have fun. Is anyone really gonna complain about having sex whenever I want with whoever I want? It’s not like I’m treating whitebois as equals,” she snorted. She then pulled out a vape pen after putting her drink down and took a long drag. Your mom looks mortified. “Coral! I told you not to do that inside!” she insists. Coral sighs and puts away her vape. Mom calms down. “I better not see you do that again, young lady,” she glares, “and you also shouldn’t talk about those kinda things in the house either, especially not in front of your little sisters,” she looks over the table, “or your little brother!” Coral chuckles, “Why not? Lil bro’s already a total pervert, might as well let him accept it.” Mom gets flustered again, “Uh, I do? Of course I do, but that’s not the point, Coral honey. The point is,” she growls a little and grabs Corals arm with her sharp long nails, “We do not talk about them in this household. Right girls?” Everyone nods along with mom. You do too. She probably counted you along with the ‘girls’. “Ow,” says Coral, pulling her arm away. “You don’t hear me mouthing off about your father’s abysmal attempts at sex over breakfast, do you?” “Ugh. No mom, I don’t.” “So apologize!” “Sorry.” “To your siblings. And for what?” Coral looks over at all of you. “I’m sorry for talking about such perverted things at the breakfast table. Can I go now?” Your mom sighs. As scary and mean as she could be, you felt bad for her. Even though Coral was the only white girl to ever really look your way, even if it was a really pervy thing, you wished she was a better daughter. Just to make your mom happy. “Anyways,” she says, looking at you as Coral gets up, puts her plate in the sink, and leaves. “Son, you know what’s coming up for us?” she asks. “Um….” you think carefully, trying to remember. Dammit, you knew this day was special, right? So what was it? Damn your stupid, cum-addled whiteboi brain! Um…. “The party….” your mom hinted. “Right, right!” you say as you remember, “We’re hosting the Neighborhood Blacked Moms Association End-of-Summer party again this year, right?” “Exactly sweetie. Now, I already sent invites out, but, well, I’m a little good at my job,” she turns to Damarcus and smiles, “so not everyone can RSVP by mail. Do you remember your job?” You nod, finally happy to be pleasing mommy, “I have to go around the neighborhood to see who can go or not, right?” “Exactly!” She says, “Good boi. Now come clean my plate up, and you can go.” You nod and stand up. Who cares if your plate is unfinished. You have a job to do, and whitebois are made to serve. A/N, if you wanna create a family that you can meet in the next part of this story, just say so in the comments! Names, dynamics, ideas, anything's accepted! Thank you all!

Chapter 10 - Heading out for the Day

After you wash the dishes for mommy (with a few nice spanks on your bare white boi ass from both your sisters and their bulls) you thank her and get ready to go. In the office, which was next to the kitchen and right under your room, you finally got the stupid printer to work. Out came 2 sheets of paper with over a dozen names on them. All the white girls and women in the neighborhood were written on that sheet. There were 9 houses you had to visit in the next few hours. A busy day today, for sure. You put on your shoes and get the papers in your backpack, and some shorts, just to keep your tiny dickletted self modest. Even though, of course, anyone who saw you could understand that you had a micropenis just by glancing at your skin color. You walked out the hall into the living room. Behind the TV stand, there was a lot of noise. Your weak knees shook as you walked forward in your kid-like clothes to see what was going on. What you see is exactly what you expected. In the few minutes you’d been gone, all the girls and bulls had gotten naked and were having their first orgy of the day right in the middle of the house. Anyone who opened the front door, or even just looked through the windows on either side of it, could see what was happening. Nobody would judge though. Multiple orgies a day was commonplace in the BNWO, especially for suburban white women. And it made your depleted balls tremble and tiny peepee grow. The coffee table was pushed over to the side. In its place was the center four-way of it all. Damarcus lying on his back with his huge arms around your mom’s neck and head, which was itself pushed between his huge pecs. His belly made her back arch as she lied on top of him. Damarcus’ 18 inch, 55 year old cock was absolutely destroying your mom’s anus. Both her butthole and her beloved bull’s cock were shining with what must’ve been lube, but it didn’t look like enough. When you weren’t feeling amazed about how black bulls could fuck for hours, you were amazed with how much a white girl could stretch just to take a BBC. While Mom was being assfucked by Damarcus below her, Julius was fucking her pussy and playing with her tits. Julius had a good 16 inches, not as lengthy or girthy as Damarcus, but he was fucking your mom but good. He made up for that too in youthful strength, because the fourth part of the 4-way was Abby, whose thick thighs and plump rump were held out by Julius’ massive arms. He was eating out his girlfriend, and in turn she had a steady flow of orgasmic juices pour onto mom’s belly from between her legs. Mom moaned loudly and squirted all over Julius’ thick black pubes. Her first orgasm of many for this orgy. Your worm was at maximum hardness. All of two inches. Behind them on the couch, there was another 3 of them sitting down, which it took a while to notice, since your transfixtion was totally on the center. On the far left is Max, who it seemed had permission from his wife to jerk off while she got eaten out in a foursome with you two’s mom and their bulls. Max’s little less than two inches (you’re very proud you’re bigger than your sister’s husband!) was jerked so hard it looked like his balls would slap against it. But of course, his scrotum was too tight and tiny for that. “Fuck ahhhhh,” moaned Abby. Her muscular ass quaked in Julius’ massive hands. They both looked like they were in total bliss. “I’m gonna fucking cum I’m gonnnnnnna nnnnnnnnng!” She yelled. Her legs stuck out totally straight, almost kicking you in the face, and, with her bull’s head still between her thighs, she came. Julius didn’t let her down after though. Her eyelids fluttered and lips shook. He just kept eating her out, without giving her a second to recover. And you knew your sister. She loved it. “H-hey, babe,” she rolled her head towards the couch to look at her hubby, who was still jerking his little dick on the couch, “Y-you don’t have you be a-ashamed. My family isn’t gonna mind if you touch yourself the way you love, cuckie d-darling.” Max whimpered. How pathetic, but you weren’t one to talk. “T-thank you babe,” he said. He scooted down in the chair. “J-julius b-babe, can you please tell m-my fucking loser brother to stop staring t-too?” she moaned as she drooled. Julius shot you a death glare. “S-sorry!” You insisted, jumping back. Plenty of bulls of your mom’s or big sisters’ have disciplined you in the past. It almost always involved a painful slap, or worse, punching your poor little balls, as if they weren’t already impotent enough. You look back over to the couch. There, Max had spread his legs and began to not only tug his tiny dick with two fingers, but also to rub his pink, smooth butthole with one finger. Abby giggled at that. Is that what her husband like? Playing with his whiteboi ass while his wife fucked bulls? T-that seemed so…. Gay! And you kinda wanted to do it too. Max closed his eyes and moaned as he fingered his butt and played with his clit. He was in his own fantasy world. As you stepped out of Mom’s, Damarcus’, Julius’, and Abby’s ways, you got to see who was on the couch besides Max. Right next to him was Jenny, who looked exhausted. Her smooth pussy was creampied again, and she was breathing heavily. Next to her was Jaylon, who looked tired and sweaty, but still pretty happy. That was probably because, between his spread, medium-brown legs, with their mouths on his big, smooth, uncut cock, were Katie and Lily, your two little sisters. His dick was wet and sticky, with a bit of cum still at the tip. Katie licked that up to show Lily how it was done. Lily smiled with wide, eager eyes. Then Katie spat it out onto your youngest sister’s mouth and they snowballed it. “Get fucked good?” you asked your twin, who was obviously uncomfortable with Max masturbating away next to her. “Yeah,” she said, “Right after breakfast. Mom was teasing us so he was all like ‘fuck it, I’ll show you,” she looked over at her boyfriend and held his hand. She looked at him, but he didn’t look back. She took her hand away. “Anyway.... Best fucking I’ve ever had. Made me cum 3 times in about 5 minutes.” “Wow,” you said. It felt good just to have a normal conversation with her. Even if it was about how she got fucked by that black dick, and it made you think of how you’ll never satisfy a girl with that tiny shrimp dick, or even fill her up with your few watery drops of cum. At least she wasn’t explicitly humiliating you. “C’mon, sit down.” she said. You stepped over her legs to sit inbetween her and Jaylon, but then she grabbed your wrist. “Nuh-uh, you’re sitting between me and him.” she said assertively. You sighed. You were really hoping not to have to sit next to Max rubbing his little whiteboi butthole, but no such luck. You just hoped nobody would ask about it. You sat down next to Jenny. In the corner, by the chairs by the TV stand closest to the stairs, Ellie was on her back getting fucked by Andre. Coral, ever the perverted one, was sitting on Ellie’s face, getting her pussy licked. You wondered how much Ellie resisted to that before she finally accepted a faceful of her big sister’s cunt. Meanwhile, Mary was eating Andre’s ass, and shyly fingered her pussy with two fingers. “Wow,” you breathed, “Can’t believe I missed this.” “Ah please bro,” she said to you with a cocksure smile, “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” You shrug. It isn’t took common to see Mary out. Especially rimming a guy. “Hey,” Jenny asked, “Why aren’t you jerking off?” You shrug again. “Tired I guess. My balls are kinda sore… I’ve already nutted eight times today.” Jenny’s eyes moved over to Jaylon, who blasted a fat, potent rope right on top of Katie’s silky-haired head. She looked a little sad, but then turned back to you. “Heh, little whiteboy can’t get it up huh?” She ruffled your hair. It pushed your head down. You felt so weak. “H-hey,” you protest. “Aww, you’re so damn cute!” “Hey baby,” asked Andre, “Want some of this?” You looked up and saw Andre turn around and get his massive black cock in Mary’s face, obviously offering it to her. Mary’s eyes were insanely wide. “N-no…” she whispered. “NO! I-it’s fine t-thanks. B-besides, I was just eating your ass..” At that pathetic passing up of some easy black dick, both Andre and Ellie laughed at the later’s poor twin sister. “W-whatever guys,” sniffled Mary. She got up and ran up to her room, still naked with her small tits bouncing. You felt bad, but knew if you tried to comfort her she would take it out on you crueler than even Ellie. “Anyways,” you said, breaking the tension. “I- uh- have some RSVPs to get.” You pulled out the paper and waved it around as you stood up and stepped over Mom and Damarcus’ legs. You left your twin sister in the dust too. But you were a weak whiteboy who couldn’t even stand up for himself after all. How could you get her to stand up for herself? Nobody looked any different as you made your departure known. You walked out to the door, got your shoes on your tiny little feet, and walked out.

[hollyhomburg]

(1/2) Hello ☺️ So this is gonna be two part bc I’m too nervous (absolutely adore you’re content tho) to send it off anon and tumblr has a stupid word count and I couldn’t fit it all in one lol but anyway my best friend and I are planning a trip to Seoul in May (circumstances willing) and I thought I remembered seeing posts that you had been to/lived in South Korea at some point and I was wondering if you’d mind me asking a question about it?

(2/2) I was looking up things to know and ran across dress code and it said if you wore jeans/tshirt in Seoul you’d stick out which high key terrified me bc that’s basically my entire wardrobe but my social anxiety already makes new environments with a lot of people hard enough so I want to blend in as much as possible. What would you recommend? Thanks ahead🌻

okay so it’s not that like- you wearing jeans and a teeshirt is gonna stick out, cuz you can dress that way, and people do. But there is a certain emphasis on like- dressing in clean new clothes- clothes that don’t look worn you know? or purposefully warn. like in America we have the whole retro movement and second-hand thrifting which has been gentrified. but that's still undesirable in Seoul. idk its probably changed cuz it’s been a year and a half since ive been there. 

this was just my experience there, and having a lot of Korean friends and talking with them but-  a lot of the young people in Seoul don’t have a lot of money but they don’t want any outward appearance of poverty. not like here where some people who make 6 figures still go thrifting. they’d rather have a good life, eat yummy food, and have luxuries rather than try saving up for a house or something. A lot of people don’t see the point in like having a car or a good apartment- they’d rather outwardly look nice. which is not how America works and that's okay- it’s just different. 

also- don't know if you’re a girl or not- but if you’re a chesty girl try not to show your shoulders or cleavage. looking back on my time in Korea thinking that i wouldn’t be offensive by dressing how I would in America was one of my biggest regrets. I didn’t really think about it at all- I just kinda dressed how I would normally but that made me stick out in a bad way. 

if you’re thick and loving it- they’re gonna judge you a little for not covering it up and this is kinda to do with their beautify standards. a skinny girl showing skin is okay- but if you’re chubby or curvy its a big no no (im rolling my eyes, but yeah- this is how i felt as a semi-plus sized girl living in Seoul. but for everyone's information- im actually the average height, weight, and cup size of the American woman so average here = plus-sized over there) 

it’s not going to make anyone your age offended- but you will get a lot of weird looks and comments from the elderly. it’s not so much about like- wanting to make your own choices. But they have this opinion that all foreigners are just there to like- be sexually free and it kinda feeds into their stereotype of all American women being pornstars? or at least all blonde American woman. many of my friends got turned away at hotels because they thought they were there to bring in clients.  I delt with everything from old men leering to an old lady trying to shove her phone in my face to get a picture of my boobs and like- just no- try if you feel comfortable enough to restrict yourself in this way, but if you don't and you think you can put up with possible harassment- then go for it. 

there is also a time and place for everything, during fashion week I walked around in a lace bodysuit and no one thought it was Week, and at night- when younger people are generally outside and out and about then you’ll get less weird looks- especially in places like Gangnam which is a weird mix of older wealthy people and young models and young rich people- the clothing standards are a little weird. 

if you really want to fit in- I’d say model what you want to wear off of k-pop style like- literally just try to emulate that because everyone else will. That and look on places like Instagram to get some style inspiration to see if you can tailor your wardrobe to your experience in Seoul. but honestly- I wouldn't worry about it too much- you will always stick out because you’re a foreigner, but in my experience, it’s not nearly as overt or uncomfortable as places like china where everyone just fucking stares- or places like France and Thailand where you’re really treated with derision if you don’t know the customs- 

But for god sakes DO. NOT. TALK. ON. THE. TRAIN. SOMEONE WILL YELL AT YOU AT ONE POINT. UNLESS YOU’RE GONNA WHISPER- AND EVEN THEN THEY WILL CONSIDER IT RUDE. TRAIN ETIQUIT IS REALLY IMPORTANT IN SEOUL. 

hope this helps <3

[highersativa]

love yourself <3

loving yourself. what does that even mean? is it easy? no, and I'm not gonna sit here and try to preach like it's easy because it's not. i know for a fact that it's not easy. but in the end, it's so worth it. and i have some words of advice, songs, and activities that have helped me realize my self-worth and i wanted to share that with you guys. because everyone deserves to feel the feeling of self-love.

loving yourself after a breakup

to be honest, we've all been there. even if it was a short or long-term relationship, we've all come to the point where we're asking ourselves "why don't they want me?" or "what did i do wrong?" and I'm here to tell you that if your heart was in the right place, it wasn't you. baby, trust and believe me it has nothing to do with you. or maybe the person you were with didn't value you or didn't appreciate you. my love, you have to take it upon yourself to realize you're worth so much more than that and leave. love or lust isn't an excuse to stick around for disrespect, do better because you deserve it.

and honestly, i get it. it's nice to see other people happy in relationships and be like "ooh!! i want that!" but you have to be patient because the right person will come. how can you want to love someone else when you don't love yourself enough to realize you're not being treated right? listen: stop looking for love and comfort in other people when that person is already built inside of you. open your heart, pull the love out, and learn to love yourself. cut the shit, you deserve better. don’t think about the good memories, think about what you’ve settled for and the shit they put you through before you move backward. the person that broke you can’t be the same one to fix you, you have to do it yourself.

loving your body

listen, the media, and excuse my language, is fucked up. it truly is fucked up. the media know not everyone weighs 100 pounds but they want every to, and it's not going to happen. do you know why we're all different shapes and sizes? it's because we were made that way. don't worry about what the other girl or guy looks like. worry about you and make sure you love your body. embrace your body, realize that those scars are stars that make you shine brighter than the night sky.

and please don't hate on the girls that are skinny, the girls that are chubby, the girls that are thick. as women, it's our responsibility to lift each other up. never ever comment on someone's appearance because you never know how they feel about themselves. and for men as well, chubbier men who may not have rock hard abs, you're beautiful too baby. think about this, if we were all the same shape and size, we'd all be the same and this world would be boring as fuck. our different flavors, shapes, colors, textures are what make us so lovable and so beautiful. and make sure you love your body the way it is at any time, and if you wanna change your body because it's what you want then do it. but do not change your body for someone else, do it because it'll make you happy because at the end of the day, all you have is you in this world and you have to make sure you're happy and in love with yourself.

practice these to love yourself more

when you wake up, look in the mirror and say "today is gonna be a great day because I'm gonna make it great"

tell yourself "i love you and you're beautiful"

replace negative thoughts with positive ones

stop comparing yourself to others; be you

remove any form of toxicity from your life

love the things that make you different

eat your favorite food or try new food

have a self-care night by yourself

get up and dance!! just smile baby :)

songs that remind me to love myself

my future by Billie Eilish

good as hell by Lizzo

brown skin girl by Beyoncé

scars to your beautiful by Alessia Cara

this is me by Keala Settle

thank u, next by Ariana Grande

lose you to love me by Selena Gomez

soulmate by Lizzo

juice by Lizzo

trust my lonely by Alessia Cara

pretty girl rock by Keri Hilson

don't call me up by Mabel

praying by Kesha

okay, okay by Alessia Cara

[dallanebbia]

blooming (2/6);

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 3579 warnings: mentions of violence inspiration: [link] synopsis: 

Ochako doesn’t understand much about the world outside the limits of her village, but she does know this: She loves her family, and at the end of the day, she’ll do anything to keep them safe – even if it means sacrificing herself to do it.

When she runs away to join the army in her father’s place, the only thing she leaves behind is an untouched cup of tea, and a whispered apology nobody is awake to hear.

(or, in which an attempt is made to write a kacchako mulan au)

parts: [1] [2] [3] || AO3: [link]

This is how the world works: Bakugou Katsuki is born the son of a tailor and grows up at his father’s knee, learning the family trade, and works to support his family. He marries a local girl from the next village over, has a son, and goes off to war at the shogun’s request. He may die at the hands of old age or sickness or the hands of another man, but his memory will only be remembered by his family line.

This is what people expect when Katsuki is born, but it’s a mistake that is quickly, violently corrected.

This is what actually happens: Katsuki is brought into the world as the son of a tailor and Lady Mitsuki, the legendary onna-bugeisha of the famous Houjou clan. He grows up with a needle in one hand and a bokken in the other, and is trained to be fearless and ambitious and great. He dreams of being a famed warrior, a legend that will be remembered in the annals of history forever, and he is determined to claw his way to the top on his merit and nothing else.

Katsuki joins a military academy and graduates with top honors and accolades, mentors under the famous General Hakamata, and is given command over a moronic bunch of civilian recruits that are soft and weak and useless. Instead of fighting in the heat of battle, he is tucked away in some rural pocket of Japan with fucking Monoma breathing down his neck, and his current goal is to whip the idiots under his command into shape so he can get to the frontlines and fucking fight.

In light of this, it comes as no surprise that he doesn’t have time for a family, let alone a wife. At least, that’s the idea – until he meets Uraraka.

__

On the first day of training, Katsuki has all the recruits stand in a line, brusquely introducing himself and ignoring the usual niceties. He doesn’t care about any of these extras, resorting to his usual habit of using descriptive (albeit sometimes offensive) nicknames as he assesses the recruits one on one with a good, old fashioned spar. Some show more promise than others, but every man who steps into the sparring ring with him is systematically destroyed as he gives no quarter.

Katsuki sneers when he sees the next recruit, a boy tripping his way into the sparring ring. The brunette is the shortest one of the bunch, and the youngest too, judging from the squeaky voice and the baby fat that clings to an innocent-looking face. The kid is shaking so hard that it’s visible even from across the ring, and Katsuki looks away, knowing that the fight is going to be another waste of time.

“Hey!”

The boy yells, and Bakugou’s gaze slides back to see that the kid is staring him down, a determined look in those wide brown eyes. “Don’t look away from me!”

Katsuki likes people with guts, which is the only reason he bothers to reply. “Why the fuck would I pay attention to a waste of space?”

The kid only looks more determined after he says it, which Katsuki can grudgingly respect. Still, he leaves his body loose but doesn’t put the effort into settling into a stance as the spar starts, which is a dumb fucking mistake as the boy sprints forward immediately.

The kid is small, but he’s fast. Katsuki opens with a punch that’s neatly avoided, and counters the foot that tries to hook around his ankle and yank him off balance, pulling his head back and redirecting the nasty hit aimed at his neck to his cheek instead. The punch has no power behind it, no momentum, and it’s easy to shake off the mild sting and kick out at unbalanced legs in a way that sends the kid sprawling.

Katsuki is a little impressed. He’s also pissed that the kid is even able to touch him, which is why he decides to have some fun and scare the little shit with a clearly telegraphed kick. The boy barely dodges, wild-eyed and feral and desperate as he rolls into a crouch, and Katsuki can’t help the twinge of curiosity that settles in his spine.

“Tch, you actually hit me,” he says offhandedly, and the boy grimaces through his heavy panting.

“There’s more where that came from!”

Katsuki barely refrains from rolling his eyes, but moves forward first with the intent of finishing things quickly. When his punch lands, it should be the end of it – but the kid takes it head on, and has the fucking audacity to use his outstretched arm to pull him close and try elbowing him in the face. It’s sloppy and slow, so it’s simple to bat away the arm and send a kick to the boy’s exposed back, sending him face first into the dirt as Katsuki moves forward to pin the kid down.

He doesn’t expect the dirt that’s flung into his eyes, and that tiny sliver of respect grows, just a little.

He has to take a second to clear his vision, but he’s not a captain for nothing. He lets the incoming kick knock him down to orient himself, then body slams the boy into the dirt and locks his hands around those skinny arms. The kid struggles, but Katsuki presses down on the bird-thin wrists as a warning. Then, it’s over.

The boy yields, and Katsuki gives the chubby-cheeked boy a less offensive name as a reward for actually using part of his brain - Round Face.

The kid, however, clearly doesn’t appreciate Katsuki’s magnanimity. “My name,” the boy pants, “is Uraraka.”

He cocks his head to one side, taking in the boy’s exhausted yet determined expression. Looking at the kid head on, without the timidity and clumsiness, there’s something odd about the boy that rubs Katsuki the wrong way - it's a gut feeling, a sense of wrongness that gets stronger the longer he stares, but he doesn’t have the time to think about it right now. Instead, he tucks the thought away to think on later, after he finishes kicking everyone’s asses.

__

By the end of the first week, Katsuki is about ninety-five percent sure that Round Face is actually a woman.

The theory first hits him midway through the third day, when he lets the recruits pause for a water break. Some, like Sparky, take the opportunity to laugh and playfight with each other on the grass, clearly not working hard enough with the kind of energy they have to spare. Others, like Soy Sauce Face and Birdbrain, retreat into the shade of the trees and rest like sensible human beings, or stretch to keep their muscles limber for the next round of exercises Katsuki has planned for the day.

And then there’s Round Face, who makes his way to the water troughs and dunks his entire face in. The boy is red-faced and sweaty, likely sunburnt too, and Katsuki has to bite back a snort at the sight of the kid, balancing on his toes as he just barely manages to lean far enough to get his head under the water.

Round Face looks a little better when he emerges with a gasp, dropping back onto his heels and stumbling back with a sigh of relief. The neckline of his training shirt is wet alongside his face, and Katsuki only catches a glimpse of something off when the kid uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

There are bandages, wrapped around the kid’s upper torso. He cocks his head, watching a little closer as Round Face joins the others in the shade - there’s a subtle sway when the kid walks, leading with the hips instead of the chest, and even though his strides are strong, they’re also oddly short and narrow, even for a boy of his size. It almost reminds Katsuki of the way his mother walks and fights, her weight shifting differently due to her lower center of gravity.

Wait.

Katsuki blinks, stares, then blinks again, eyes narrowing. Sure enough, there’s a telltale lack of protrusion at Round Face’s throat that makes the suspicion fully settle into his mind.

Over the next few days, he makes it a point to keep an eye of Round Face, and the more he observes, the more obvious it becomes. There’s the softness of the boy’s features, the way his strength is anchored in his legs rather than his upper body, and a feminine edge to all of his movements both intentional and subconscious. There’s also a deference built into the kid’s behavior that is pretty typical of most women he’s met, all passiveness and silence and demurely averted eyes, and he never, ever, takes off his shirt around the other men, even when his top is soaked through with sweat.

It… explains a lot. Katsuki personally knows that gender means shit when it comes to combat, but while it's true that men usually have a physical advantage over women, Round Face is one of the rare cases. The kid can kick in someone’s teeth with all the explosive force of a jackrabbit, and wields the tanto and bo staff like a demon possessed, yet lacks the upper body strength to do anything but lift the nodachi that he stubbornly insists on learning to use. At the same time, he – she? – is fucking baffling. Tiny as a male or female, surrounded by other men who are literally twice her size, but somehow she’s still consistently winning an average of four out of five spars, even against bigger opponents.

She’s a goddamn walking contradiction, how she manages to make giants like Shitty Hair eat dirt in the morning while struggling to pull a boulder up a mountain three hours later, and for some reason, he finds himself fascinated.

Katsuki can’t explain the weird magnetism surrounding the girl, but when Monoma, that shitty rat bastard, finally decides to show his ugly face, he’s caught in it too – the fuckface immediately zeroes in on the girl like a moth to a light. He’s lives on ferreting out people’s weaknesses and using them to his advantage, and Round Face – small, short, tiny Round Face, who can take out a man twice her weight but still trails in every other training exercise – is the obvious and easy victim.

“Uraraka, was it?” the smug bastard asks snidely, looking down at her as she slowly trudges back into camp behind the rest of the men, lagging behind by a wide margin. “How pathetic.”

“Your parents must be disappointed, having such a useless son,” he comments airily, as Round Face’s arms tremble under the strain of hefting a water bucket in each hand, her arms outstretched parallel to the ground as she staggers up the mountain.

“It’s interesting, how you’re still so terrible at this, Uraraka,” he says when she collapses in a sweaty, panting mess, as the rest of the recruits shoot pleading, frustrated looks in Katsuki’s direction.

It’s clear to everyone that Round Face is Monoma’s punching bag for reasons nobody can figure out, but in this Katsuki is powerless. He’s a Monoma, an advisor and trueborn nobleman, and he outranks Katsuki both socially and at court. He might call the bastard names, but when it comes to this he can’t interfere, no matter how much he wants to.

To her credit, Uraraka simply stands there and takes every one of the poisonous insults, her eyes blank as she stares stoically at Monoma’s face. Katsuki can see, though, the way her shoulders slump and the defeat that slowly eats away at her once determined posture, and proceeds to create a little, tiny accident that keeps the fuckface from entering the training areas for a good week. There are boisterous hugs and laughs of relief from the men, Katsuki waving off their cheers with a scowl, but nothing hits harder than the small, thankful smile on Uraraka’s face that sends his heart plummeting into his stomach.

When he’s lying in his bedroll that night, he looks up at the canvas of the tent above him and breathes, “Fuck.”

__

In hindsight, it’s only a matter of time before someone else sees what’s so obvious. Monoma figuring it out isn’t a shock – for all that Katsuki loathes the pointy-faced bastard, the man is intelligent when it counts – but what is surprising is that Monoma tries to use Uraraka to blackmail him.

Katsuki is the son of the disgraced Houjou heiress and a goddamn tailor, and Monoma is the second son of the most powerful noble clan in all the shogunate. He has no idea what the fuck he has that Monoma can’t buy with his clan’s backing, but all at once the answer is clear.

It comes down to power, as it always fucking does.

Monoma’s playing the long game with his political ambitions, aiming for the imperial court, but he needs the backing of powerful people to assure his position. Katsuki, with his relationship with General Hakamata and his ties to one of the oldest samurai families in Japan, has enough secondary influence to weigh things heavily in Monoma’s favor.

“You son of a bitch, you’re really trying to fucking blackmail me?” Katsuki barks out a laugh, glowering. “I’m not gonna do shit for you, fuckface.”

“You sure about that, Captain?” Monoma, artfully arranged on a lounge seat that is a waste of both money and space, looks remarkably unruffled, sitting like a satisfied cat basking in the afternoon sun. “Even if I accidentally let it slip that your favorite new recruit is a woman masquerading as a man?”

Katsuki bites down the rage that simmers in him at the mention of Uraraka. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about the ridiculous law that prohibits women from combat – growing up under his mother’s tutelage, he knows better to go around sprouting any of that traditionalist, sexist bullshit – but he knows that most men don’t feel the same way. If Uraraka is found out, she’ll be dragged to the capitol in chains and executed, her family publicly denounced for their disgraced daughter. The very idea of it makes his blood run cold.

“Even if I did agree, nothing’s gonna happen,” Katsuki says, trying a different angle as his mind runs through different options. “The old man can’t afford to play with court politics on the frontlines, and my bastard of a grandfather hates my fucking guts. They’re not gonna do shit on my behalf, let alone for some fucking stranger.”

“Doesn’t sound like my problem, then, does it?” Fuckface sighs contentedly, and Katsuki wants to punch the smug little bastard in his pointy face. “It’s amusing, how protective you are of the girl – imagine, the Butcher of Niijima, trying to play the big, brave warrior who rescues the weak, fragile little damsel in distress?”

“Weak? Fragile? Are you fucking blind?” Katsuki says incredulously. He pointedly ignores the familiar stab of regret at the moniker that made him famous; it's a trigger that usually sets him off, but he bites back the rage and focuses himself again.

“Most definitely not,” Monoma says, clearly disappointed that there isn't a more explosive reaction to his little dig. On the other hand, Katsuki wonders if the man is actually an idiot or if he’s just willfully ignorant of the fact that Uraraka could kick his skinny ass any day of the week. “So – do we have a deal?”

Hands curl into fists at his sides, his scowl deepening. The obvious, logical solution is to tell Monoma to fuck off and continue on, leaving Uraraka to her unfortunate fate. The alternative is to agree for the sake of protecting a girl he barely knows, only to end up with the same outcome. He knows that he’ll be laughed out of his grandparents’ clan compound for the audacity to demand political support after years of acting like he’s better off without them.

Monoma waits, eyes sharp as he watches Katsuki wage an internal war with himself, and then grins. “Why don’t we make things a little more interesting, captain?”

“Hah?”

Monoma’s eyes wander off to the side, landing on the trunk of a dead tree, rising out of the ground and towering over the rest of the camp. The branches are long gone, the cracked trunk worn smooth from years of rain and wind, and the wood stops flat abruptly, as if a giant had come and chopped the top of the tree off in a single, clean cut.

“Let’s make a wager, Bakugou.” The fuckface stands smoothly, moving towards the racks of weapons laid neatly to one side, and selects a bow that he handles with surprising ease. Monoma then pulls an arrow out of the quiver, and in one smooth movement sends it flying upward until the tip buries itself into the wood at the very top of the dead tree. “I’m sure we both are familiar with this little exercise, hm?”

Katsuki looks to where the arrow sits, high above their heads. It’s a common test for soldiers training to be army officers – climbing to retrieve a flag or an arrow from a tall perch, slowed down by training weights, is a rite of passage that Katsuki is intimately familiar with. Suddenly, he knows where Monoma is going with this.

“I’ll forget all about little Uraraka-chan, if that arrow is in my hands by dawn tomorrow morning – on one condition,” he says, and Katsuki narrows his eyes. “The girl retrieves the arrow, and she uses the weights from the captain’s tests. I’ll even sweeten the pot – I’ll leave you and your little camp alone for an entire month, as long as you send copies of your reports to me so I can pretend like I’ve been supervising.”

It’s fucking tempting – keeping Uraraka safe is already a win in his book, but the opportunity to kick Monoma out makes it too hard to pass up. Katsuki thinks of Uraraka, remembers the determination and fire in those brown eyes from their first spar, and bites back a smirk.

He sees Monoma’s pleased expression from the corner of his eye, a victorious smile on that stupid face of his, and Katsuki bares his teeth in a grin. “You’ve got yourself a deal, fuckface.”

__

Katsuki doesn’t waste any time, digging out the weights as the men run their final laps around the valley, and he’s waiting for her when Uraraka finally drags herself into camp long after sunset. He drops the heavy metal disks into her arms, ignoring the confused expression she wears, and draws her attention to the arrow, embedded high above them.

“Get the arrow by sunrise,” he says, and watches as Uraraka’s face pales even further under the silvery moonlight. “If you can’t, don’t bother showing up for training.”

He ignores her stammering, frantic questions, heading back to his tent where Monoma is waiting. He only glances back once, and smiles in proud satisfaction when he sees Uraraka approaching the tree with the weights strapped to her back, the determined set of her shoulders highlighted by the full moon behind her.

He's relaxed all throughout the night, calmly reading through letters and communications while studiously ignoring Momona's increasingly infuriating gloating. The man is lounging around like he's already won and talking shit, and for the first time, Katsuki lets someone run their mouth without complaint despite how much he wants to talk back.

His thinly-fraying patience pays off hours later, when Uraraka stalks into the tent and stakes the arrow into the wood table, less than a hand's width away from Monoma's fingers. She's panting heavily, and Katsuki doesn’t even care that his heart lodges itself into his throat at the sight of her. She looks flushed and angry and fucking glorious, and it sends something hot stirring in his gut.

Monoma jumps at the action, his features a comical mix between shock and fury, and it’s goddamn hilarious. “What was it you said? Fragile?” Katsuki straight out cackles. “A deal’s a deal, fuckface. Get your arrow and your shitty ass out of my damn camp.”

Monoma looks like he wants to argue, but grits his teeth and leaves like a dog with its tail between his legs when he catches Katsuki’s gaze. Try me, fuckface.

“I’m fragile?” He looks over, seeing Uraraka looking down at her reddened hands in offended bewilderment. “… wait, you bet on me?!”

“The shitty bastard did.” Katsuki grabs one of the pears beside him and tosses it at her, watching with a warm sort of fondness as it nearly hits her in the nose. She glares at him, bristling, and he blames that on what he says next.

“There’s nothing fragile about you, round face.” Her eyes widen in surprise at the words, and the flush on her cheeks darken. “Now get outta my tent.”

Uraraka stares at him for about three seconds, stunned speechless, before mumbling something and sprinting out of his tent like her life depends on it.

Katsuki glances at the arrow, embedded into the table still, and yanks it out, twirling the shaft between his fingers. The look on her face, tired and feral and victorious, is burned into his mind, and although he has never considered himself the marrying type, he absently thinks that having a woman like Uraraka for a wife wouldn’t be so bad.

[the-mjolnir-owner]

Here comes the post™ about the movie™ no one asked for

I’ve been postponing this due to spoilers, but I think it’s time now.

Those of you who already know me and who I speak to daily already know my opinion about EG and maybe I was expecting it to to change in some weeks, but it didn’t.

It’s not a surprise to anyone that Thor’s my favorite character who I’ve been playing for at least seven years. He brought me joy, helped me to find friends for life and gave me strength when I was down.

It’s not a surprise that I feel betrayed and disappointed by how his story was dealt in this last movie and I’m willing to ignore parts of it and replace it with my own canon. It’s not that I had faith in the production to begin with, but still I was let down with all of this disrespect.

Don’t read it if you haven’t watched the movie, heavy spoilers ahead.

My thoughts:

-          Thor didn’t get anyone back. I wasn’t expecting those who were killed to return, but maybe those who got dusted could include Sif at least, but they’re not known to respect women at all. He fought for everyone’s else happy ending but his, and although this is in character, it’s still sad

-          There was no satisfactory ending to Thor/Loki relationship. Everyone who bothered to watch Thor’s movies know that Thor and Loki share a deep, complicated bond. It’s a love/hate relationship and they were working to mend it when Loki had one of the most gruesome, unnecessary deaths I’ve ever seen on screen. They never shared a hug on screen and they didn’t use Tom/Loki’s popularity for anything. The death of a character who struggled their whole life by the hands of their abuser? No thank you, you can keep it

-          Thor went back to Asgard and didn’t even visit Loki. I didn’t understand their time travel rules but I know they were confusing. Thor normally doesn’t play by human’s laws and I wished his approach to Loki was different. That was the last time he was seeing his brother and I understand him losing it when he meets Frigga, maybe one of the best scenes he has in the entire shitshow

-          Thor’s love life sucks. Everybody had their happy dance, their happy marriage with kids, but Thor, who was left with no family at all. I don’t ship Thor/Jane but it’s clear he loves her deeply, she was an important person in his life who opened his eyes and taught him to be less arrogant, selfish and more human. I don’t want them to be a couple anymore, but they could at least respect this relationship. They did them dirty since TDW but that’s another subject. I don’t want Thor/Jane anymore when we have a whole Thorkyrie meal waiting to happen, but they could at least address this subject and show that Thor/Jane can still be friends

-          They really said fuck asgardian lives.  I wasn’t expecting anyone to return, but have Steve going back in time to have his happy ending was a bit selfish imo, considering Thor was left to live his own reality where everybody is dead but him. They didn’t have to save Asgard or prevent the elves from attacking, but they could have changed Thanos’ attack to their deteriorated ship and the massacre that followed. I thought Thor could meet his sister somehow and bring back the fallen asgardians. That would be better. He could have used the gauntlet himself to fix this shit, but Thor was a second rate character in EG

-          I was told there was a Thorkyrie kiss scene in Ragnarok and now I understand why it was cut. Valkyrie could have a pivotal role in not allowing Thor to succumb in a spiral of self hatred and lethargy, sharing the burden of leading a collapsed civilization and helping Thor out of his drunk state, in the same way he helped her, brought her home and gave her life a new purpose. It was a conscious decision to take everything from Thor, especially his development. 

If I was mad they let Valkyrie be King instead of Thor, who was grown to rule? Not at all. He wouldn’t be able to do anything considering his mental state, trauma and self image, he needs to recover and heal and it takes time. 

He was king for about 8 hours and he had to witness his family, his friends and his people being slaughtered in front of him and we know he carries this blame like an anchor. Valkyrie at least managed to lead the escape pods to Earth and probably lead them while Thor was fighting in IW. She’s the only one left he can count on, and their scenes together were disappointing

-          Talking about trauma.  I knew he wouldn’t be ok considering what happened to him in the recent movies. He lost his mom, his brother, his lover, his father, all of his friends, his eye, his hammer, his hair, his sister, his planet, his army, his people, his battle. We know since AoU that his worst fear was losing them all and he had to witness all of this foreshowed carnificina (remember they weren’t snapped, a quick and painless death, no, they were all butchered one by one in front of Thor) without getting a break or some time to react or grieve or anything in response to it. 

I’ve read before he’s a safe choice when it comes to trauma, nothing should affect him because he’s a god. But it does, he may be a god but he’s still made of flesh and bones and a beating heart that is way too big and too soft. 

We watched his desperate attempts to make things right in IW, his desperate attempts to end his own life. We watched him ready to die by Loki’s side when the ship was about to explode. We watched him taking the full blast of a star, forging an ax by the cost of his own life. Bless Hemsworth for all of Thor’s emotional scenes, every time he cried I cried as well because I could understand and relate to his struggle of trying to remain fine for his friends’ sake while his heart was shattered

-          That trauma reflected on his self image. He couldn’t go through all of this unscatched, and it’s ok. I understand his recluse, his effort to shut down the world outside and deal with things by the only way he knows how to deal with any inner turmoil: drowning his sorrow in alcohol. He’s always been a heavy drinker and it’s a normal, accepted asgardian behavior to drink entire casks of ale (see Valkyrie). You know what’s not ok? Using his problems as a fucking three hours joke.

-          He’s the only character whose pain isn’t treated like a real problem. As if he’s being dramatic when he can’t say a name or tell a story without losing it or going through a panic attack. Skinny characters are worthy compassion, thicc characters aren’t and I see your fatphobia, @marvel

-         Fucking three hour joke. I’ve seen someone point on twitter that there are two stances to weight in EG: Tiny gets stranded in space for weeks, when he returns to earth he’s malnourished, thin, sick. People immediately tend to him, he’s hospitalized, it’s heartbreaking to see him like this and it’s obvious he has been through too much. All the characters involved react to him with sympathy. The same can’t be told about Thor. He has a weight problem too, he’s dissociating and he doesn’t care what he looks like anymore. I know people who went through the same ordeal. 

Thor’s punishing himself for feeling like a failure and it reflects on his body. Yet, we are lead to feel sorry for one of them (Tiny) and laugh at the other (Thor). The audience is lead to have compassion by one character going through a difficult phase and being grossed out/amused by another character who is going through the same thing, if not worse.

-          It’s not woke nor progressive to have a fit man wearing a badly made fat suit to badly portray a fat person.  It was literally made to entertain, to be a comic relief, not to raise awareness of how mental health problems can cause physical problems as well and it’s a missed opportunity to have an approach to it, on how men are supposed to be fit all the time, on how superhero bodies can be in all shapes and sizes. It’s all about fat-shaming and fatphobia. 

I love and appreciate Thor in all shapes and forms, but what they did to him wasn’t a body positive view and if they mean to keep fat Thor in their next projects, they better hire an actual plus size actor. The sole purpose of chubby Thor was to degrade the character and strip him of sympathy because he “did that to himself”

-          This mockery comes from other superheroes.  What are we teaching young audiences when they watch the Avengers making fun of a debilitated person? That it’s ok to laugh at a fat, depressed person who has panic attacks? Thor gets mocked, teased and fat shamed by people who are dear to him, by the only “friends” he has left - friends whom he knows for at least 6+ years - friends he defended and saved countless times before. By his own mother to some degree. 

They don’t show him the same sympathy and just like Odin, Thor’s only seen worthy by how hard he can strike, by how powerful he can be. A weapon, not a person, and when said weapon loses its sharpness, it’s not worthy fixing anymore. Thor’s a war hound and that’s the only aspect the Avengers value in him. 

It’s important to remember Thor treated the Hulk differently, like a person, and supported Bruce when he didn’t want to turn into the Hulk. He treated Valkyrie differently, too, when he realized she had alcohol problems and carried an immense grief. Thor’s often betrayed by people whom he loves and trusts, but this is too much of an insult to people going through the same problems in the audience. It’s sad to see all the other characters (except Bruce/Hulk) denying emphathy and compassion to Thor, knowing Thor would never deny emphathy and compassion to anyone else

-          Thor isn’t lazily eating/drinking after a broke up, no. He was traumatized from seeing everyone he had ever loved die in front of him then being blamed for not stopping Thanos, or going to the head. He hopes that by chopping Thanos’ head off he’d feel better, but he doesn’t. Thor lost more people than any of the others and Cap goes to group theraphy sessions (never bothers to invite Thor), Tiny gets hospitalized but Thor doesn’t have a fit boy anymore, he doesn’t deserve simpathy, he’s lazy for letting it happen to him and that’s how they want us to feel. Amused by Thor’s pain that’s less important now because he lost his 8 pack

-          He died to forge a weapon and it wasn’t enough. He did an herculean job to make a weapon strong enough to kill Thanos, not only did he fail but he also survived to tell. If he had died trying, then his ticket to Valhalla would be granted, but he lost it as well. 

Not only he carries a huge survivor guilt, but the certainty he isn’t worthy anything anymore, not even the golden halls of Valhalla wait for him. And he tries time and time again to live a glorious death that doesn’t come

-          His drunkenness is ooc. They contradicted their own canon by claiming that Thor can get drunk on weak midgardian ale. He can’t. He could really drink that amount of beer, but it wouldn’t affect him. Not even physically. Thor has a fast metabolism and it would take him some hundred years to become that chubby on weak beer or other beverages. They ignored their own canon to insist in this joke, that had greenlight from everybody involved

-          Marvel’s efforts to hide chubby Thor. In the trailers, in the posters, in the action figures and promotional images, we see the usual Thor, fit. It’s supposed to be a big surprise to see Thor like this, people told me. I think it’s all about sending a message that chubby heroes don’t sell and they hid this information purposely. There’s no action figures of fat Thor. He isn’t made to promote the movie, awareness or sell anything. Because a fat person serves only for fun, they think, not to sell, his role in this movie is to be mocked. But it’s on them, because in this house we love and respect chubby Thor and I can’t wait to buy his fluffly plush doll

-          Thor’s weakened. Stormbreaker is used as a bottle opener and they seem to forget how powerful it was. Everything that Taika did, the Russos undid. The whole point of Ragnarok (the best Thor movie imo) was showing Thor and the audience he doesn’t need a weapon to be powerful. In IW he gets his eye back and makes an ax, forgetting all of this, and in EG he has his hammer back. Not only one, but he’s wielding two magical weapons and is still beaten? No way. I can’t believe I paid actual money to watch it. Thor could have used the gauntlet and he’d still be fine and alive, it would be so much better imo

-          He is back to using a weapon to tell him he has value. He was over mjolnir’s standards on what’s worthy anymore and he’s finally free of its magical whims. Now he trusts in the hammer judgment of him again because what else does he have? Who else does he have?

-          They never wanted us to feel bad about Thor. They mixed Thor’s sadness with shots of his body to entertain from the fact that he’s dead inside. His arc is made for laughs. We’re lead to think it’s funny. If they wanted us to feel bad about fat Thor, they would make him thin like Tiny who got all the sympathy he deserved. Bless Chris for the emotion he conveyed though

-          Thor leaving with the Guardians was a conflicting point. I’d love to see Thor with the GoTG and I love the previous GoTG movies. But it won’t solve his problems. I wanted him to heal, and if the Guardians will help him with it, instead of the Avengers, then it’s ok. He should accept there are things he can’t change and it’s not his fault, he should try and change the things he can and look forward to something, anything, that would give him hope again

-          In the end, at least, everybody was rooting for him to recover and it was good. He wasn’t magically made thin again and all the time I was waiting for a Rocky Balboa sequence with Thor lifting weight or jogging, but it didn’t happen, and at least it served to show us that he’s still worthy, a hero and himself in spite of how he looks or how much he weighs

-          It hurts to see an optimistic, caring character losing it.  I know he wouldn’t leave unscatched, but it’s sad to lose my ray of sunshine Thor, who always had hope and fought for what was right. Seeing my favorite character lethargic, apathetic and not being the protagonist of his own life is very hard. Thor always brought me inspiration and he instills the best in people: he supports Sif when she wants to be a warrior, he shows Jane she’s right in her researches, shows Valkyrie she’s not her failure, helps Bruce out of panic attacks in an alien planet, tries to reach for Loki time and time again, he trusts the Avengers and works with them in order to save a world that isn’t even his. He saved the world at least four times. 

And they all let him down. It’s not a satisfactory conclusion, but I didn’t hope they’d make it differently. I still hope I’ll see my Thor again and even if I don’t, I’ll write him with faithful friends I met along the way. He deserves it and I won’t let him down

Any positive points after miles of salt?

Thor chopping off Thanos’ head and probably using it as a mug was nice.

I liked his Viking looks with braids in his hair and beard and how he weilded two magical weapons.

Sharing them with Cap, who is one of his best friends, is great too.

Having Thor leaving with the Guardians was a nice choice because I like the Guardians and I know Thor will return better after this vacation to assume his throne.

 Leaving the throne for Valkyrie means she’s his Queen in his eyes and you’ll have to pry Thorkyrie from my cold, dead hands. 

There’s a bitter taste, yeah, but things can be better in the future when the sun will shine on us again.

[doubletriplepowerbomb]

Speak

Drew McIntyre x OC request for anon

words: +4700

tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25

Can you do a Drew McIntyre imagine in which he has a crush on Stephanie’s chubby assistant and he one day can’t take it anymore and catches her by surprise and kisses her and takes her out on a date. She’s also friends with Dolph so every time she appears to talk to Dolph he can’t help but stare at her and fall deeper for her. A lot of fluff please!

“Hey Steph, I think I figured out a way to get Raw’s ratings up.” She said as she walked through the door. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in a meeting.” Her voice became quiet as she reached backwards to reach for the door handle. 

Stephanie was currently speaking to Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre about Dolph’s title reign. “Oh it’s okay, Val. Here, sit down I’m almost done with these gentlemen.” Stephanie said as she cleared some space off of her couch. Dolph watched his best friend sit down with a smirk and Drew kept his eyes on his shoes, a blush painted on his cheeks.

“Anyway, Dolph as unpopular my opinion is, I think this is a fitting title for you. Yes, the fans don’t love it, but it makes for some great matches.” Steph said. Dolph thanked her before he and Drew walked out of her office, leaving Stephanie alone with her assistant. “Okay Val, what did you have planned.” Stephanie asked her assistant with hope in her voice.

Stephanie McMahon hired Valentina Romano to be her assistant last year and she’s loved her new life. Val couldn’t get enough of traveling to new cities and becoming close friends with all the superstars. Especially Dolph, he was her best friend ever since her first day. She loved the girls too, they were all so talented and so sweet and so much fun.

 “Valentina, a tag match before Summerslam is a wonderful idea!” Stephanie said as she walked over to her assistant and gently clapped her shoulders. “Now as much as I’d love to stay and watch it all play out I have to go. Hunter called with an emergency. I’ll have Kurt announce the match but can I trust you to talk to them?” Stephanie usually trusted Val to act in her shoes when she couldn’t make it to the show and tonight, Stephanie trusted Val to tell the superstars that they’d be in a match tonight.

“Yeah no problem Steph, should I tell Kurt too?” Val asked. Stephanie nodded at her assistant before her phone rang and she was sucked back into her work. 

Valentina walked down the halls looking for the 4 men who’d be in the match. The match would be Seth and Dean against Drew and Dolph, to build tension before Summerslam. She saw Dean and Seth sitting with Roman in catering and walked over to them. “Oh jeez, guys it’s Val.” Roman said jokingly.

“Oh god, Val are we in trouble?” Dean asked with fake fear painted on his face. Lots of the guys loved to joke with her about her position in power, but she rarely ever delivered bad news.

“No you’re not in trouble. But Dean and Seth, tonight you two are gonna have a match against Dolph and Drew to build tension before Summerslam. Good luck you guys.” Val said with a smile before setting off to find Dolph and Drew.

She walked down the halls for a couple seconds before finding Dolph sitting with Drew in a screening room. “Hey loser. Hi Drew.” Val said loudly as she walked in, drawing Dolph and Drew’s attention to her.

“Hey, Valentina.” Drew said quietly, his eyes locked on his tag partner’s best friend.

Instantly, she felt self conscious. Drew never called her Val like everyone else and he always stared. Val knew he’d never be rude to her but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was judging her. Val wasn’t extremely short, she stood at about 5’6 but she was on the heavier side. She’d come a long way and lost a lot of weight since high school but still, she knew she was chubbier than the women she worked with.

“Jesus Valerie, you said you were gonna start losing weight.” They teased. That’s not my name and I’m working on it; Val thought. “And look at you, still fat and still ugly.” 

For Valentina Romano, that was her whole childhood and 3 years of high school. From her 5th grade to her junior year, she lived in California and got bullied constantly. She didn’t look like all the California girls she went to school with. The hair on her head, arms, and legs were dark, her skin was tinted yellow, and she weighed a lot more than them.

The summer going into her senior year she weighed around 250 pounds. Her family moved to Florida and she lost 78 pounds. The people in Florida didn’t bully her but she stayed quiet and didn’t make many friends.

Dolph’s voice snapped her from her thoughts. “What do you want from me, dork?” He asked as he stood up. Val’s attention moved from Drew’s lingering stares to Dolph.

“You two are gonna have a match tonight against Seth and Dean.” Val said, pushing her lack of self confidence to the back of her head. “Good luck you guys… you’re gonna need it.” She joked. Dolph scoffed playfully before pulling his best friend into his arms. 

“Oh please you know damn well me and Drew are gonna kick ass.” Dolph said, puffing his chest out.  Val rolled her eyes and slapped his chest. Her eyes shot to Drew quickly, his eyes were still locked on her. Drew’s blue eyes scanned up her body to her face and he knew he was caught. His cheeks turned pink and Val smiled gently at him, she smiled wider though when his cheeks got redder. 

Val shook her head and blinked hard before speaking. “Uh… ok I gotta go, but I’ll see you guys later. Bye loser. Bye Drew.”She knew Dolph said something but all Val could hear was the soft ‘Bye Valentina’ from the Scotsman. 

As soon as the door closed, Dolph turned to Drew. “Dude, that was pathetic.” Dolph said to his partner. 

“What did ah do?” Drew asked throwing his hands up. He didn’t have to ask though, he knew exactly what Dolph was going to say. 

“Nothing. That’s what you did. You stared at her and then you blushed. What the hell man?” Dolph knew about Drew’s feelings for Val. On the flip side, he knew how Val felt about Drew and he knew that Val would never make a move because of how self conscious she was. Drew had to make the move but he was too shy to do it.

“Dolph, ya think ah try ta be weird like this? Ah tell myself all tha time to make a move but every time ah see her ah just can’t stop starin at her. Ah’ve probably scared her.” Drew said, defeat in his voice.

“Come on, dude. I don’t think you scared her. Just talk to her.” Dolph said. 

Well… he didn’t talk to her. Val came to talk to Dolph later on that night and the whole time, Drew only stared. 

It’s always been like this. Ever since Val started working for Stephanie, she’s been friends with Dolph. And ever since Drew’s been back he can only stare at her in awe. 

“Hi Drew.” 

“Hi Valentina.” How can someone be so perfect? 

“Bye Drew.” 

Go idiot say something to her. 

“Bye Valentina.” Fuck. 

It happened like this every time she spoke to him. Something possessed him and he wasn’t himself. His heart raced, his face got warm, and his tongue stopped working. Every time he told himself to buck up and say something to her, but every time he saw her he lost his nerve. And every time, Dolph scolded him afterwards. 

That’s gonna change tonight, Drew thought. 

It was the raw after Summerslam, Dolph retained the title and Drew had a match against Dean tonight.

Speak ta her dumbass, Drew said to himself as he walked through the halls. Just tell her something other than hi and bye. Tell her you like her outfit, tell her her hair looks great, just say somethi- “Oh sorry, ah didn’t mean ta,” Drew started, his hands finding the shoulders of the person he just walked into. Val’s shoulders. Shit shit shit. “Ah didn’t mean ta run into ya.” 

“It’s okay, Drew.” She said sweetly, she waited for him to talk but he didn’t. 

Speak! Say something. Tell her she looks nice. 

“Valentina, ya look good... Ah mean yer outfit is nice. Well ya look good too. Ah mean… uhm.” Nice going jackass. 

Instead of running away, like Drew thought she’d do, Val looked down at her shoes and blushed. “Thanks, Drew. I gotta go though, Steph wanted me for something.” Val said. Steph didn’t actually need her, she just had to get herself away from this situation. 

“Wait.” Drew said suddenly. 

Val stopped walking and turned back to Drew. What have ah done? Dolph’s words flashed through his head; “Nothing. That’s what you did” Make a move, Drew. “Ah didn’t mean ta say that. Well ah did but ah didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Ah thought it was gonna be a lot cooler sounding, but it wasn’t.” Drew admitted, making Val giggle. Holy shit ah made her giggle. “Ah did want ta apologize fer always starin at ya.” Drew started, but Val cut him off before he could tell her the reason. 

“No I get it. I’m a lot different than the other girls you work with.” Drew stared blankly at her, unsure of what she meant. “I mean, I know I’m chubby. I just wanted to let you know I understand why you stare. I get it all the time.” Drew wrinkled his nose once he realized what Val meant. She did get it all the time and it killed her. 

“Oh you work for the WWE? I don’t mean to be rude but aren’t those girls really skinny?” Val couldn’t fathom that people would think that’s okay to say. And that they add ‘I don’t mean to be rude’ before it was said. It was rude and it killed her when people would ask that. She’d say what company she worked for and people would visibly get confused. 

‘Yes wrestlers are fit and skinny; and I, Valentina Romano, am not a fit and skinny wrestler.’ 

Val stood waiting for Drew to speak. Then he laughed. He shook his head while he chuckled and grabbed her hands. “Tha truth is ah really like ya, Valentina.” Ah said it. And she’s just looking at me like ah have two heads. What have ah done? Val was shocked. He liked her. That’s why he stared at her. 

Say something Valentina, he probably thinks you’re scared. Say something god damn it. “Drew, you don’t like me, I mean, look at me.” That wasn’t what you were supposed to say. 

“What? Are ya kiddin? Ah have been looking at ya... fer months, ah thought ya noticed.” Drew didn’t know where he was getting this from but he wasn’t gonna question it. “But ah’m serious, Valentina. Ah like ya. Why else would ah sit and stare at ya like an idiot?” 

“My weight.” That was supposed to be in my head, damn it Val. 

“Yer weight. Are ya jokin?” Drew grabbed Val’s wrist and pulled her down the hall. “Ah think yer beautiful, Valentina. Yer perfect.” She actually laughed at that, making Drew squint as he thought of what to do next. 

Without thinking, Drew let go of her hands and cradled her face. “Every time ah see ya, Valentina. Ah melt. Yer absolutely perfect.” His voice got softer and softer as he spoke until he was whispering. He stared into her brown eyes and saw the pain behind them. 

She thinks Ah’m kiddin. Prove it to her, man. 

Drew rubbed his thumb over Val’s cheek and leaned down slightly so he could press his lips to hers. Val gasped, not knowing that Drew was gonna kiss her. But it didn’t make her uncomfortable, she simply closed her eyes and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. 

After what felt like forever in the best way possible, Drew broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “Go out with me, tomorrow night.” Drew looked into her eyes, waiting for Val to answer. Val smiled widely and only nodded against Drew’s forehead, now she was the one that couldn’t speak. Drew smiled and pecked Val’s lips once more before he stood up straight again.

“Well, ah’m upset fer havin ta leave ya here, but ah have a match… right now” He said quietly, holding onto her hands.

“Don’t worry about it, Drew. Go kick ass, I’ll be watching.” Val said with a wink, pushing all of her nerves to the back of her head. Drew nodded with a huge grin on his face before he turned around and jogged toward gorilla. Val stood still in the middle of the hall, watching him run away until he turned the corner and was out of her sight. 

She had a huge, goofy grin on her face until she snapped herself out of whatever trance Drew held her in and went running down the halls, in search of her best friend. 

“Dolph!” Val screamed as she ran down the halls searching for her best friend. Drew was in the middle of his match with Dean and both Dolph and Seth had been banned from ringside. 

“What, are you okay.” He asked, sounding panicked. 

“Drew kissed me, then he asked me out! We’re going out tomorrow night!” Val whisper yelled as she jumped up and down. 

“No fucking way. He finally did it, that son of a bitch.” Dolph said with a smile. “I’m so happy for you, Val. You’re really gonna like him. Did he tell you where you’re going?” 

Just then, Valentina realized something. Drew didn’t have her number and she never gave her number to him. “Fuck, I never gave him my number.” She said before slapping her forehead with her hand. 

“I could give it to you.” Dolph said reaching for his phone in his back pocket. Val stopped him though, she had her own idea, she shook her head and walked away, heading for gorilla. 

Drew’s music blasted through the speakers in the arena and Val could hear it backstage. She looked around for somewhere to sit and jumped onto an equipment case while she waited for Drew to come back. 

A couple moments later, Drew’s large frame came through the curtain. Val waited patiently while Drew spoke to Kurt and some other people in the viewing area. Once he finally made his way past her, Val grabbed onto his wrist. “You know Drew, you seemed to have missed something when you asked me out earlier.” Val said teasingly, still sitting on the equipment case and still holding onto his wrist. 

Drew’s eyes went wide and he searched his mind for what he forgot to do. “No, Drew. I meant you forgot to get my number.” 

“Oh. Oh ah did forget. Ah’m sorry, love.” Drew said with a boyish grin. Val felt a blush rise on her cheeks while she watched the muscles ripple in Drew’s arm as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Well, ah don’ have ma phone, love. Ah can give ya mine.” Drew said after a couple seconds of silence. Val only smirked and shook her head no. 

Val’s right hand still held his left wrist and she switched hands so she could write her number in Drew’s palm. Drew watched in awe as Val wrote her number carefully on his palm, sure to make sure all the numbers were clear. 

-

“Good morningggggg, Valley girl.” Dolph sang as he opened the door to Val’s hotel room. Val groaned before rolling over in her bed, hoping Dolph would go away and let her sleep. But he didn’t. 

“Valley girl? Is that supposed to be me?” Val asked as she sat up after realizing Dolph wasn’t going away. 

“Yes. Valley girl; your name is Val and you grew up in California, get it?” He asked with a smile. 

“You’re an idiot.” Val said with a smile before she rolled over in the bed again. 

“Valentina, get up. We’re going to the gym then get you something sexy to wear on your date.” Dolph sang before he yanked the covers off of his best friend. Val rolled her eyes and groaned once more before getting out of the bed. She grabbed shorts and a sports bra before going into the bathroom to get ready. 

Valentina and Dolph bursted into Val’s hotel room after a full day. After two hours in the gym, Val and Dolph grabbed some lunch before going shopping. Drew texted Val earlier telling her what time he’d come get her. He told Dolph beforehand where they were going so he knew exactly what to tell Val to get, comfortable but cute. 

At 7 o’clock, there was a knock on Val’s door. 

“Dolph, I can’t do this. I mean look at me, he’s gonna think I look terrible.” Val said as she stared at herself in the mirror in the bathroom. 

“Val you look great, are you kidding? He’s gonna drown in his own drool.” Dolph said, standing behind his best friend in her bathroom. 

“Dolph. This shirt makes me look so fat and this skirt makes my thighs look huge!” Val said while she poked around on her body. 

“You liked it in the store.” Dolph said, confusion clear in his tone. “It looks good.” 

Because it was the middle of the summer, Val picked out a dark-wash jean skirt and a white shirt that was on the tighter side. Dolph was right, she did like her outfit in the store and she liked it now. But something about Drew seeing it made Val extremely nervous. 

Usually, when she walked around the halls, Val kept her clothes on the looser side. Now her shirt was tight and everything was visible. Instantly Val’s head filled with all the memories of her old life growing up in California. 

“Oh Val, I know you think that looks good on you but you can’t pull it off.” 

“I don’t think those maternity shirts you wear are big enough. You should try 5 XL.” 

They teased her mercilessly and it stung. Every word stung.

Drew knocked again. Ah hope she gave me tha right room number. Drew checked his phone for the text; 286. He looked up at the door; 286. As he stared at the room number, the door opened slightly, he looked down to see Val standing in the doorway. 

Drew could only see her face though, she seemed to be hiding her body from him. “Ya ready ta go, Valentina?” Drew asked as he opened the door wider. Valentina saw as Drew’s eyes landed on her body and she instantly regretted telling him she’d go out. 

Val remembered all the times the she was bullied and she covered her stomach with her arms. “Drew, I don’t-” but the Scotsman cut her off before she could finish her sentence. 

Drew held Val by her shoulders and stared into her brown eyes. “Ya look… beautiful, Valentina.” He drooled. Val felt a blush rise on her cheeks but she kept her body covered. Drew noticed the look her face and stared down at her with love in his eyes. “Valentina, what’re ya doin’? Coverin yerself up like that. Yer a beyond gorgeous girl and ah can’t wait ta take ya out.” Drew spoke honestly and it made Val’s heart swell. 

Drew bent down to press a kiss to her forehead and looked up at Dolph, who was standing in the middle of the room, nodding approvingly at Drew’s words. Val moved her arms and Drew grabbed her hand, leading her the down the long hallway. “Ya look lovely, darlin.” Drew complimented once more before he opened the door to his rental car. 

“Where are we going?” Val asked, getting some of her confidence back. Drew looked over at her and flashed her a gorgeous grin and Val felt her stomach flip. 

“Ah’m takin ya somewhere special and ah know yer gonna love it.” Drew said before starting the car and driving out of the hotel parking lot. 

The car ride was about 30 minutes long but it wasn’t an uncomfortable amount of time. Val was shocked at how comfortable he seemed with her considering he could barely speak yesterday. 

Should I not be as nervous as I am? I mean, Drew seems completely fine and my heart is practically beating out of my chest. Val had no clue what was going on when Drew turned onto a dirt road and continued to drive straight while it got darker and darker. Val fell quiet as her mind raced with horrible possibilities. 

Oh my god, relax. Drew won’t do anything bad. Dolph wouldn’t have let me go if he thought Drew was weird. And she was right because a moment later, Val knew where they were. Drew had taken her to a drive in movie, Dolph must’ve told him how much she loves movies. 

It was a big drive in theater too. There were about 4 screens spaced out across a large open area with hills so lots of cars could park. Drew reversed into a spot next to a speaker labeled with a number 2, meaning they’d be watching Incredibles 2. 

“Ya got quiet, love.” Drew started slowly, “Ya like movies right, cause if ya don’ we won’ stay.” Drew began, praying that she liked movies. This was a shot in the dark and he hoped he hadn’t missed. 

Val cut his rambling off by leaning over the center console and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Drew, this is perfect… and I love movies. Especially pixar, have you seen this yet. It’s phenomenal.” Val began, excited to see Incredibles 2 again. She was such a child and she had waited years for a sequel to her favorite pixar movie when she was growing up. 

“Oh we don’ have ta watch this if ya have already seen it, there’s three other movies if ya like.” Drew began. Val’s eyes widened before reaching over and holding his bicep. 

“No I love this movie and I’d love to see it again.” Val reassured but Drew still seemed unsure. “Drew, I promise. This is amazing and I love it.” Drew’s face finally looked satisfied and he got out of the car. Val followed suit and met him around the back.

Drew had opened the trunk to reveal an extremely comfortable looking set up. All the seats were put down and there were a bunch of blankets and pillows spread across the large space. “Oh my god, Drew this is so sweet.” Val said after grabbing Drew’s hand and lacing their fingers together. 

“Of course it is, love. Ah’ve been in ta ya forever now and ah finally worked up the courage ta ask ya out. Ah couldn’t waste it by takin ya ta do something boring.” Drew said lightheartedly. Although it was portrayed as a joke, Drew meant every single word that he spoke. Val giggled and felt a blush rise on her cheeks, thank god it’s dark and he can’t see me blushing. 

A couple seconds later, the sound started to play and Drew helped Val into the trunk before climbing in after her. They got comfortable while some short trailers played and by the time the movie started, Drew was lying on his back, his head and shoulders propped up by pillows. And Val was lying close next to him, her head rested on his chest. 

“Oh, ah brought ya somethin just in case ya got uncomfortable in that skirt.” Drew whispered while he reached behind a pillow. He pulled out a pair of her joggers and Val’s eyes widened. 

“How’d you get my pants?” Val asked playfully, before taking them and slipping them on under the skirt and taking the skirt off over them. 

“Ah asked Dolph fer a pair to have just in case ya wanted them. And ah didn’t want ta tell ya ta bring them and ruin the surprise.” 

“Well that was extremely sweet and smart of you. So thank you very much for thinking of me.” Val said, thankful again for the darkness so Drew wouldn’t see her blushing. 

“Oh ah’m always thinking of ya, love.” He sad before kissing her temple and pulling her closer to him. Now that she was wearing pants, Val was able to put her leg up on Drew’s, allowing for them to be as close as Drew wanted. 

About 2 hours later, the credits were rolling and Drew had managed to pull Val even closer than before. At some point during the movie, Drew had pulled Val practically on top of him so he could hug her against his firm chest and torso. Val felt so warm and happy in his arms she was upset that the movie ended and he’d let go soon. 

“Are ya comfortable, love.” Drew asked quietly, after the movie had ended. He was playing with Val’s think dark hair and she could barely think. 

“I’m extremely comfortable, I’m kinda upset that it’s over though. This was so much fun and I really didn’t want this movie to end.” Val admitted. 

“It doesn’t have ta end, love.” Drew whispered before he moved his hands to cradle her face. Val smiled at his touch and moved her hand to his shoulder when their lips finally touched. Drew moved slightly so that Val now laid on top of him completely and she instantly felt nervous. What if he thinks I’m heavy. Oh my god I gotta get off of him. 

“Drew am I hurting you?” Val asked after separating their lips. Drew’s hand remained on her face though, making sure their noses remained touching. The Scotsman let out a breathy laugh before kissing Val again.

“Valentina, yer not botherin’ me. Ah like havin ya on top of me like this.” Drew said while wiggling his eyebrows. This made Val giggle and tuck her head in his neck. 

After a second, Val decided to press her lips to his neck and find a sweet spot. As she peppered her lips across his soft skin, Drew let a moan slip and she knew she had found a sweet spot, underneath his jawline. Val smiled against the skin and began to suck softly, Drew moaned Val’s name this time and she realized how much she liked hearing her name like that. 

She loved that Drew still called her Valentina, but hearing Valentina spoken the way Drew just said it made Val fall in love. His gravely, deep voice mixed with his attractive Scottish accent sent the good kind of chills all throughout Val’s body and she hoped he’d say it again.

While all the other people cleared out of the lot and other people came in, Val and Drew remained where they were. They laid together in the back of the truck kissing until sound from the next set of trailers played in the car. Val jumped from the sudden change of silence to noise and she placed her hands on Drew’s shoulders so his lips were no longer on her neck. “Drew, the next movie is starting.” Val said, feeling guilty for not paying to see two different movies. “We didn’t pay.”

“Valentina, did ya see me pay fer tha first one?” Drew asked. Val gasped when she realized he didn’t. Before she could ask if he snuck them in, Drew spoke again. “Ah’m good friends with tha guy who owns this place.” Val’s guilt lifted and she instantly felt relieved. 

“Good, cause I was hoping this wouldn’t end.” Val said cradling Drew’s face in her hands. 

“Well it’s yer lucky day, Valentina. Because after ah told Tommy about tha gorgeous girl ah was takin’ out he said that we could stay fer a double feature. Only if ya like.” Drew said, his hands roaming down her curves to rest on her hips. 

Val didn’t have to answer, she simply smiled and pressed her lips to his again. “You’re amazing, Drew.” She mumbled against his lips. 

“But yer perfect, Valentina.” 

They didn’t watch much of the second movie, but Drew didn’t care, neither did Val. They spent the time kissing and talking about a bunch of different things. But no matter what they did together, Drew had a smile plastered on his face. He finally said something to Valentina Romano, and he didn’t mess it up. 

[drblueneck]

Massive Genderbent AU - Rookie 9 edition

Ok. I should really NOT be writing that, but that little shit of a story wouldn’t leave me alone and I couldn’t focus on my studies and I was going CRAZY. So, here. It’s written. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE BRAIN, LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!! I decided to post it, because I want people to enjoy the beauty of genderbender. This will turn into a fullfledged story. Maybe. Probably. Certainly. But not right now. Because I don’t have time. I NEED TIIIIMMMME.

As spring was in full bloom, it was time for Hideo-sensei - Head of the Academy - to peruse the new application forms for the upcoming year. Going through each of them and smiling at the familiar clan names, he took him a moment to notice the higher than normal percentage of girls being enrolled. As he took a closer look, his surprise went up a notch. The heirs of the most prominent ninja clans were to be in the same year class, and all but two were females. It had been a long time since such a thing happened! Hideo-sensei idly wondered if the girls would be up to par with the boys, and winced at the ludicrous idea of Genin teams made up mostly of kunoichi - their strength would never amount to that of their male counterparts, science said so. Or, well, science said so before Tsunade-sama gave it the finger... Hideo-sensei shook his head and snorted. Frankly, what were the chances for all these girls to end up like the legendary Sannin? Prodigies were a fluke, not the norm.

With a rueful sigh, he closed the files and signed them, already mourning for this future batch of Genin who would more likely than not bring down their forces’ strength for months, if not years - that is, if they ever graduated instead of mooning over boys like so many were wont to do in their debute... Hopefully, these kunoichi would have a wake-up call sooner than later!

Years later, looking back on this biased oversight, Hideo-sensei would berate himself for dismissing so easily what Konoha saw as its new rising stars and the best ninja of their generation.

  Shikaku stared at his ranting kid from where he was sitting under the shade of the great oak in their backyard, ears used to relentless tirades after years of mariage to his dear banshee of a wife. He loved her, really, he did, but damn if that troublesome woman didn’t turn him half-deaf in the first two months of their marital life. It’s without shame that Shikaku would readily admit to having prayed for his kid to turn out like him - lazy and fond of long stretches of silence. The Nara genes were usually strong, to the dismal of those who married into the clan, but it looked like Yoshino’s were as stubborn as her!

Troublesome woman indeed, Shikaku thought with fondness as his daughter finished her rant about ‘not being a kid anymore’ and thus demanding to be ‘trained as a real kunoichi to kick butts’. Maybe he stayed quiet for too long because she started tapping her tiny foot on the grassy ground, arms crossed as she dished out her best glare, and all that was done in a perfect imitation of her mother - and it only made her father want to laugh and squeeze her in a hug.

Which he did.

“Daaad! I’m serious!” Shikaru wailed, tugging harshly at her father’s spiky ponytail to punctuate her words.

“Yes you are,” he cooed, rubbing his scratchy beard against her chubby cheek.

“I wanna leaaarn!” She wailed again, squirming in his grasp and trying to escape his beard, struggling not to laugh and keep up her angry pout. It tickled!

Trapping her into his arms, Shikaku let himself fall down on his back, adjusting comfortably his neck so that he could watch the fluffy clouds go by.

“Maa, why couldn’t you be a lazy one just like your dad, hm?”

The child instantly stopped her useless squirming and with fire burning fiercely in her brown eyes, she hissed like an angry cat, “Cause I’m gonna beat Inoshi! He made Chou cry!”

Aaah, right. The first time he and his teammate decided to officially introduce their kids to each other when they were four, Inoichi’s boy - who lacked a brain to mouth filter - had taken one look at Chouza’s girl and pointed at her before saying with all the innocence of the world, “Daddy, look, she’s fat.” The poor Chouko had bursted into tears and clung to her father the whole day while Shikaru, true to her name, spent a good ten minutes scolding the boy before launching herself into a philosophical pamphlet of sorts on the serious issue of body image within the shinobi world. Inoshi had gaped at her, a bit pale, before hunching his shoulders and muttering a bit too belligerently, “Well, you’re definitely not cute...”

Inoichi had confided that to this day, his son still obsessively kept his hair short, traumatised by Shikaru gripping on his tiny ponytail so hard that she tore out a big clump of fine blond hair. Another of her mother’s bad habits... It was a good thing Shikaku got so used to the rough treatment that it felt like his head was made of steel, otherwise, between his two troublesome girls, he would’ve turned bald yeard ago!

Anyway, all that had been a year ago, and Shikaku had to marvel at his daughter’s ability to hold a grudge.

He hummed under his breath at another of his daughter’s whine about ‘stupid boys’ and wanting to train.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that you start the Academy next month,” he said, nonchalant, happy to stare at the powdery blue sky with the light weight of his kid securely held against his chest. Said kid abruptly sat up, pushing a bony knee into his ribs and he ‘oofed’. Kids... so uncaring...

“Really?!” she cried out as she bounced on his stomach, her almond-shaped eyes almost glittering with stars.

“Really.”

Shikaru dropped back down against him, squeezing her skinny arms around his neck with all her strength - and Shikaku was proud to say that it was actually a lot - as she smothered her excited ‘”thank yous” into his shirt, her feet kicking out in a show of unrestraint happiness and narrowly missing his jewels.

Inoshi was going down. Ha!

  It had been a long time since a masculine presence had been felt in the Inuzuka household. From as far as she could remember, Kiku had always been surrendered solely by her mom and sister and their dogs, with the occasional clansmen dropping by to check in with their Head. And if asked, Kiku would tell you that her mom was badass.

Once, she had asked where her father was and mom bristled and waved a fist in the air. “Who needs that pussy when you got me, huh?” Hana later told her that dad had left them because mom scared him. Tch, mom was right, what a scaredy-cat! Inuzuka women were the bomb!

And Kiku wanted to be just like her mother.

It actually amused Tsume greatly to see her youngest daughter following her everywhere like a lost puppy, even when she went to work in the Jounin HQ or meeting with members of the Council for clan matters. Kiku would closely watch her every move and copy them – sitting with an arm thrown on the back of a chair, legs slightly splayed out or crossed at the ankles; fingers drumming on the table when she wanted to fuck with uptight people like Hiashi or Fugaku; lips turning into a snarl when she wasn’t happy… Yep, her daughter was cute as a button in her mom-worship antics.

Tsume actually thought it was all just a phase and that her childish wonder would soon fade out, but Kiku never stopped praising her mom with starry eyes, asking stories of her missions, and more recently, pleading to start her training in the shinobi arts like Hana. She had already given Akamaru to her a few weeks ago, wanting her to acclimate herself to her life-partner, but Tsume had wanted to leave the shinobi training for a bit later to make sure the dog would be able to follow… So what to do, what to do?

Sighing over her dilemma, Tsume entered Shikaku’s office and dropped her latest report on his desk, not feeling one bit sympathetic as he groaned while glaring at the pile of reports that would soon turn into a tower. Usually, he had to hunt down his Jounin to get their reports on time, but strangely these past few days, they’d all been quite eager – gleeful even! – to complete their administrative duties…

Tsume shot him a mean smirk. “Serves you right for ditching us last week with the new recruits,” she said snidely, still peeved that heir commanding officer had disappeared for a whole afternoon and let the more seasoned shinobi drill the baby Jounin. Shikaku was way too good at hiding from them, the sneaky bastard.

“God, I’m surrounded by nagging women,” the man groaned, signing the papers he was reading with a flourish and attacking a new batch.

“Beats being surrounded by whiny men,” was Tsume’s quick retort.

Shikaku shrugged and stretched his arms, which Tsume took as her dismissal. All too happy to leave the Jounin Commander to his own suffering, she skipped to the door with a bounce to her step, only to reluctantly stop when Shikaku called out her name.

“What.” She was a busy woman, dammit.

He smiled apologetically before asking, “I was just wondering if you were putting your daughter into the Academy this year? Mine is going, and I’d be more at ease if some of the kids she knows were to attend too… Shikaru really needs to up her social game,” he added thoughtfully.

God, that man could be such a mother-hen sometimes! Tsume wondered if he would’ve been this dotting had he had a boy as laidback as him… Probably not.

“I’ve put in Kiku’s application but didn’t tell her anything yet. You know how my clan likes to keep the kids as long as possible and teach them at home before sending the little brats to schools, what with our dogs needing proper training too…”

Shikaku nodded. Many clans were like Tsume’s, enrolling the kids only for the last two or three years of the Academy as they preferred – or simply needed in some cases – to train their kekkai genkai first and foremost before even thinking about formal schooling.

“Well, if your girl is anything like you, she’s going to take to shinobi training like a fish to water,” he said in a smile, complimenting his Jounin’s ruthless efficiency on the field, and Tsume grinned back, showing her sharp teeth.

Maybe sending Kiku earlier than expected would actually be a good thing. Her girl was driven after all!

“She’s been bugging me about training her for weeks now. I think she’s ready to commit,” she mused outloud in a prideful tone.

With a wave of the hand, she turned around and leisurely walked out Shikaku’s office while calling out, “My girl’s totally gonna make you turn prematurely grey when she’ll be under your command, Nara!”

Chuckling at the muttered “troublesome” that her enhanced hearing caught, Tsume made her way back home, the grin never leaving her face. Damn right, her Kiku was going to become a kickass kunoichi!

(Shikaru means “to scold” which I found hilarious. Inoshi comes from inoshishi which means boar, Kiku means chrysanthemum because I just wanted to have some coherency between her sister and her, and Chouko means butterfly child, which is cute af. Next one should’ve Female!Sasuke, Male!Hinata, and I’m gonna have so much fun.)