#the catfish & the mouse

[beefrobeefcal]

Some angst??? Idk. Maybe there’s something here. You decide.

This is after Frankie tells mouse that he is as big as he wants to get. Mouse, being the wonderful partner she is, listens to his request and stops encouraging any extra ~indulging~ to help him maintain/lose weight.

BUT each time they pass a gelato shop without going in or mouse says no to a dessert menu, it stings. It’s as if he’s been left hanging for a kiss or like he’s been left on read.

Food has become an avenue of affection, and now that it’s closed he’s realizing how much it means to him. And even though he’s the one that asked for this, he feels like he’s going crazy being denied in this way.

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

The bitch is back. Need we say more?

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: All Pent Up & Nowhere to Go

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant Fem!Reader

Summary: A communication breakdown causes a lot of angst.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,546

Content Warning: weight talk, angsty angsty, self esteem issues, communication breakdown, allusions to oral (f-receiving), feederism talk, car smut, masturbation, p in the v, established relationship

Author's Notes: I know this deviated from the original ask, but I hope this suffices, Nonnie. It's not as sweet or innocent as I think you were looking for. Thank you @xdaddysprincessxx for beta'ing & offering ideas! Thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for also beta'ing & being their every awesome supportive self.

Things were rough, that much was true. After the night that Frankie had confided in you that he felt he was big enough then thinking out loud about how maybe he was getting too big, you’d done your best to keep his meals at standard portions and not offered anything indulgent to him. 

On a Saturday, Benny had stopped by to return the snow shovel he’d borrowed from Frankie. Having not seen him in a while, you stepped back into the house to let the guys catch up. But you heard everything through the kitchen window as the guys chatted in the backyard. 

“Fish! Holy shit! You losing weight? Last I saw you, you looked... you were bigger!”, Benny chirped with a huge smile on his face, patting Frankie on the shoulder. 

“Yeah... well, you know... was getting pretty big... wanna keep the Mrs. Happy...” 

You almost dropped the knife while you were chopping vegetables.  

You peaked out the window and saw Benny’s face twist in confusion as he looked at Frankie. “I... dude, I thought... I mean, if you’re serious about it, I could always use your help. Trying to become a personal trainer... you know, I need to personally train someone...?” 

It wasn’t like Frankie hadn’t specifically said to you that he might be too big, but the way you jumped at his words and completely changed how you fed him – how you cared for him – was jarring. To see his portion sizes shrink so quickly and not be offered a dessert was disappointing for him. At the rate you changed everything, he couldn’t help but feel that you had wanted him to lose weight. Were you embarrassed to be seen with him like that? Were you glad to have a smaller partner? Did his body disgust you and were you doing a good job being supportive?  

Frankie’s mind would churn and whirl through every insecurity almost nightly as you slept peacefully next to him. When Benny offered to help him slim down further, he thought you would be happier, but it only made him feel worse about himself, and he didn’t know how to tell you. He didn’t want to disappoint you.  

Almost four months since Benny offered, Frankie had shrunk. Not by mass proportions, but enough that his silhouette was definitely smaller. It could have been because he wasn’t constantly heaving around a big, full belly anymore, but his clothing was no longer pulled tight across his middle. You did your best not to say anything about his body or comment on his eating, and despite your disappointment at his changing physique, you kept up a supportive and positive attitude. You had no idea that withholding that was eating Frankie up inside. 

The positive side of this was that Frankie’s broad shoulders were definitely broader and his arms were thicker and more muscular. But Frankie was miserable; he missed how you looked at him adoringly as he ate, or how you would squirm under his weight. He’d pulled away and was irritated almost all the time when he was home. He'd barely touched you in the past two months, and it left you wondering why he had become so removed. You’d tried talking to him, crawling onto his lap in nothing but a smile, but he’d declined, saying something along the line of being tired. Needless to say, the dejection had caused your vibrator and dildo collection to increase. 

Frankie texted you on a Friday evening and said he was going to the gym with Benny, and you could eat without him.  Your heart sank when you read the message and you ate your pathetic peanut butter and jam sandwich alone at the table. Your sadness quickly turned to anger with a smack of horniness; he’d gone from needing to make you scream his name and come on his hands, mouth and cock almost daily to barely looking at you, and you had only done what you thought he wanted you to. Not bothering to clear the table, you stomped off to your bedroom and grabbed one of your toys from the drawer. It was a newer one that was specifically used on your clit, and it was the closest thing to his mouth you could get. Not bothering to look at the time, you got to work, making yourself whine and pant, starting the ritual you’d created every time you missed his touch.  

You were so engrossed and close to climax that you didn’t hear Frankie’s truck pull up or the door open. You didn’t hear him come down the hallway because he no longer called out your name; he had stopped doing that a month ago. You didn’t hear him standing in the hallway, rocking between his feet anxiously, listening to you pulling those sounds that he used to out of your mouth. You didn’t hear the hurt that was boiling over into frustration and anger in his mind.  

You did, however, hear the bedroom door open as you came, and when your eyes met his, you barely recognized the broad, angry man standing in your doorway. 

“What. The. Fuck.”, he snarled through gritted teeth. In his heightened state, he couldn’t differentiate whether his anger was at you for what you were doing or at him for not willing to do it to you himself. 

“Frankie... baby... hi...”, you said softly, reaching your hand out to him, beckoning him to join you. 

“What the FUCK is that?”, he barked, clearly hurt, and pointing to the vibrator in your hand. 

You jumped at his harsh, loud tone, then closed your legs and pulled your knees to your body. Swallowing hard, you tried to find your voice, “Honey... I just... I needed...” 

He stepped into your room, his hulking form at the end of the bed. His eyes darted between your face and the vibrator. For the first time ever in your relationship, he felt unneeded and replaced. Betrayal broke out on his face, and he yelled, “You needed what? To replace me? Let me know I can’t keep you happy, so you put of a fucking show for me to come home to?” 

This was not your Frankie. Why was he mad? He’d never been angry before when he’d walk in on you masturbating in the past. He used to take it as the warm up act before he got to the main event, even telling you to finish for him before he got involved.  

“Baby... honey, no! I could never replace you! I just... I wanted a release... I didn’t think it was a big deal!” 

“That’s why you had to hide it then, huh?”, he yelled again, this time, sadness and hurt clearly in his voice. He didn’t know how to tell you the deep hurt he felt, thinking you were hiding this from him; thinking you didn't want him anymore, “Wait till I’m not home and then fuck yourself? Don’t need me anymore?” 

You saw his body language show more than his words could say. He was hurting and had been hurting for a while. You had no clue that he was making this whole big change for you, and now you’d basically told him that after all that hard work, you’d replaced him. No, you had no idea what was running through his head. All you knew was that you were tired of being rebuffed and ignored and wanted to give yourself some much needed pleasure and release and he was mad at you for it. 

“How fucking dare you! You barely even look at me anymore – let alone touch me – and you want to give me shit for wanting to-to feel good?”, you yelled back, standing up from the bed. His face fell and his big brown eyes widened. Your emotions were getting the better of you, and you could feel the hot tears begin to flood your eyes. Your voice cracked. “What is happening, Frankie? Talk to me!” 

He said nothing. He just turned and hurried out of the room, and you heard the back door slam shut and the garage door open. You waited to hear the truck start, but nothing came. You grabbed your things from the bathroom and bedroom and settled into the guest room. 

After having a shower in the guest bathroom, you’d crawled into the guest bed and tried to sooth yourself by scrolling through your phone. It was only once you heard Frankie come back into the house that you put your phone down. You saw his shadow pass the guestroom door, heading to your room, and then come back out and hover in front of the door. You wanted to call out to him, but it seemed fruitless. He’s turned down so many of your advances and chances to open up, you figured this was it. If he wanted it, he had to make the move. 

Your heart broke for a second time that night as the shadow retreated back down the hallway, and you heard your bedroom door close. 

Your night was restless; you tossed and turned, never able to find a spot that was comfortable. By the time morning light was pouring in through the window, you’d resigned to the fact that you were not going to get more than a few hours of sleep.  

As you laid in bed, trying to decide how to tackle the awkwardness that was sure to come from your next interaction with Frankie, your phone buzzed and your heard his buzz, too, from the next room.  

Calendar Reminder! - 12:00 pm – Taste of the Town! Food Truck Festival 

You groaned quietly, turning off the reminder. You’d bought tickets months ago for this, before Frankie’s health kick, at his request. You’d already made up your mind that he wouldn’t want to go – you weren’t going to make him – and opened up your messages to ask the group chat if anyone wanted the tickets.  

As you typed, a notification popped up from Frankie.  

You still wanna go? 

You were stunned. You knew he knew you’d read the message, and you wanted to answer, desperately clawing at any shred of attention he was willing to give you, but he was still on your shit list. 

Was gonna ask the guys and Hannah if they wanted the tickets. Assumed you wouldn’t want to.  

Through the walls, you heard him get out of bed and rip open the bedroom door. You got out of bed and waited for him to come bursting through the guestroom door, but instead he knocked. 

“Mouse? I-I think... I want to go with you. Might be fun, baby...” 

His voice was soft and pleading, and it made you melt. But you wanted an apology, an explanation!  

“It’s okay... I know it’s not your thing anymore...” 

The door opened up and Frankie stood in front of you with an adorable pout on his face.  

“No. I want to go. With you. I want to go with you.” 

You’d conceded and now that you were standing outside in the sunshine with Frankie as he ate a hot dog, you were glad you did. While the conversation was a bit awkward and stilted, he was at least talking to you.  

You mind wandered, watching the other happy couples walking hand in hand, when Frankie’s voice pulled you back.  

“Mouse? You gonna eat that?” 

You turned to him, then looked where he was pointing – at your hot dog.  

“Oh... no. Go ahead.”, you said quickly. Then as he grabbed it and was about to take a bite, you blurted out, “Are you sure you want another one?” 

You knew it was wrong as you watched Frankie’s eyes fall. He closed his mouth and put the hot dog down onto the picnic table, and sulked. You felt horrible. 

“Honey... I didn’t mean to stop you. I just thought...” 

“Thought what?”, he interjected in a cold, quiet tone. “Thought if I ate that you’d have a fat boyfriend again?” 

You froze, feeling the lump in your throat start. Is that what you had become? That girlfriend? “No... No, I thought it’s what you... I - never mind. You enjoy it, okay?” 

He didn’t look up at you. You did your best to keep the tears at bay, but it was quickly going to be a fruitless endevour. You got up from the table, trying and failing to keep your voice from breaking, “I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?” 

If he tried to stop you or say something, you didn’t know; you were already moving away from him, discreetly wiping your eyes.  

The rest of the afternoon was quiet and somber. Frankie had eaten your hot dog, but avoided anything else except the lemonade you brought him. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you didn’t want this to go on any longer. 

“Frankie?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know what I did to fuck this up, but I want to make it better.” 

He stopped and looked at you. You felt his eyes look over your face, examining you. And he was. He was looking for his Mouse; his sassy, hot tempered, spitfire Mouse. Instead, he saw you looking the way you had for months, and he’d ignored it – sad and scared. He pulled you into a hug and it felt different; not just from the bit of weight he’d lost, but the emotion behind it, and you couldn't place what it was be it felt final. 

“I’m sorry, too, baby.” 

The ride home was quiet; the only sound was the radio on a low volume. You noticed up ahead that traffic was backing up on the highway, and as Frankie slowed the truck to a stop, he swore under his breath. 

Then you heard it. His tummy grumbled. Frankie was hungry. 

“Do you still keep snacks in your truck?” 

Your quiet question broke through the silence and was met with an irritated sigh from Frankie. 

“No. Benny helped me clean it all out.” 

“I have a granola bar in my purse.” 

You pulled out the little, wrapped bar and held it out for him. After a brief hesitation, he took it and ate it. 

Silence. 

“You... you got any more?” 

You smiled to yourself and pulled another one out of your bag, handing it to him, and just as with the first, it disappeared quickly.  

“Can we talk? I feel like we haven’t had a real conversation lately... and I just wanna know how you're doing.”, you pleaded softly. You took a risk and placed your hand on his shoulder. 

He let out a huff. “I hate this.” 

You pulled your hand back and faced forward, and he quickly turned, grabbing your hand. 

“No! No no no! Mouse, no, honey! That’s not what I meant! I mean... I hate this diet!” 

“This diet?” 

He turned back, hand returning to the steering wheel. “Yeah... I hate it. I’m always hungry and I just feel like shit, and I don’t feel like myself and I know this is what you want, but - “ 

“Whoa! Wait... what I want?”, you interjected, sounding almost offended. 

“Yeah. You want this. “, Frankie eyed you before finishing, “... don’t you?” 

“I... no! I thought you wanted this!” 

“Why would you think that?!”, he snapped. 

“Be-because you said you thought you were getting too big so I asked if you wanted to make a change and you said yes! I was trying to be supportive!” 

You didn’t mean to yell that at him, but you were so wound up and just as confused as he was. 

You stared at each other until a horn honking broke the silence. Frankie quickly turned and got the truck moving again. 

“You did this for me? Not because... not because you hated how I looked?” 

You stared at him aghast. “How are you even asking that?!” 

“You made me do it so quickly! Like all of sudden you... you just stopped. Stopped everything! It’s like you wanted it and as soon as I said it, you were elated!” 

“Oh my god, no! Frankie, no! I always felt selfish giving you all this food, and then you said you might not be happy with it... I love how happy I can make you with food and I never stopped! I put the same energy I would have into feeding you into... into not doing it as much!”, you said frantically. “Why didn’t you say anything?  Is this why you’ve ignored me? Why you’ve-you’ve cut me out? Is this why you don’t like me anymore? Don’t want to be around me?” 

Frankie slammed on the brakes and the whole truck lurched. He looked at you with wide eyed, his mouth open in shock. 

The horn behind you sounded again, and if not for the moving traffic, you were sure that that Frankie was ready to jump out and punch the guy behind you’s lights out. 

As soon as an opportunity presented itself, Frankie exited the highway and pulled into a parking lot. He threw the truck into park and ripped his seat belt off, then jumped out of the truck. You stayed put, watching him stalk around to the passenger side and rip the door open.  

“What?!”, he barked, breathing heavily with a panicked face. 

“What??”, you asked back, just as panicked as he was. 

“You think I don’t like you?! That I don’t want to be around you?” 

“Yes!”, you cried out softly, grabbing his face. “You keep pushing me away and I don’t know why!” 

His eyes searched yours before he spoke. 

“Tell me you want me to enjoy eating again.” 

“I... what? Frankie, I’m trying to be serious here!” 

“So am I! Say it! If you mean it, say it!” 

“I...” 

“Tell me you want me to eat everything on my plate.”, he growled, reaching around and unbuckling your seat belt. “Tell me you want me to hit my fucking limit every day at dinner.” 

You felt heat pooling in your core. This was the most animated and hottest you’d seen him in so long.  

“I want -” 

“Tell me you wanna watch my clothes get too small again.” 

He pushed you back and crawled up on the bench and shoved his knee right up to your cunt as he hovered over you.  

“Tell me you want a fat guy to fuck you.” 

“I want you to get fat again and fuck me.” 

From the outside, it was clear what was happening in the truck. The door was wide open and your only saving grace was that you were in a parking lot for a nightclub, and it was 2:30 pm. Regardless, Frankie ate you out in the front seat of the car and you finally made it home around 5:00pm – just in time for dinner. 

You made sure he finished everything you made – lasagna of course! Then, instead of Frankie hoisting himself to the couch, he backed you down the hallway to your bedroom.  

“Never wanna go that long again without your pussy on my mouth, princess...” 

You whined as you gripped his full – albeit smaller – belly. He grunted and one of your hands slid down to his hard cock in his jeans.  

“I don’t want these jeans to fit you anymore, Frankie...”, you cooed as you palmed his cock. “Wanna watch you struggle getting them up... got too skinny for me...” 

Frankie made a groaning sound as his eyes rolled and he shoved you onto the bed. You got your clothes off and frantically helped him remove his and you pulled him down on top of you.  

“Fuck! I missed this!”, you growled, biting his ear lobe.  

He shifted and laid on his side and pulled you into a feverish kiss. As your mouths danced, his hand slid between your legs. He groaned again with how wet you were. 

“Can’t wait... need to fuck this pussy... need to feel it, princess.” 

You nodded dumbly, shoving him to his back and crawling onto him. You spat in your hand, gave his cock a few pumps, then positioned yourself over him and sank down.  

You both let out long, low moans, finally feeling like the missing puzzle piece was found. You started moving and his hands gripped your hips, keeping pace. 

“Say it, princess... say it” 

“I’m gonna make you so fat, Frankie...” 

Benny pulled up to your house, determined to find out why Frankie had started coming up with excuses to avoid work outs. It had been almost two months since the last time he showed up and he’d looked like he’d put on a little weight then. 

“Fish? Mouse? Anyone home?”, he yelled, banging on the door. 

Frankie was sitting on the couch, letting dinner settle, and smiled at you then motioned for you to stay seated.  

“I’ll get it.” 

As soon as the door opened, Benny knew exactly why he wasn’t coming to work outs. Frankie’s stuffed belly was almost nearing where it was when Benny started working with him, and the shirt he was wearing looked to be at its maximum tension.  

He grinned and gently elbowed Frankie’s belly. “See you’re putting in a different kind of work, huh, Fish?” 

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz

[pimosworld]

oh how I love a good drabble, Pimsy!

💌

Frankie Morales (who else? lol)

Thank you for the tag, friendo!

I-was-made-for-loving-you-baby regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

I couldn’t help myself, I hope you don’t mind @beefrobeefcal but I made this an installment for Catfish and Mouse because I love them so much.

Pairing-Chubby Frankie Morales x OC Mouse

Summary-You give Frankie a special Valentine’s Day dessert and he cooks you dinner.

CW- Fluff Fluff and more Fluff, some suggestive content

Not beta read

Thats amore

I hope you’re hungry 

  That was all the warning you had during your work day from Frankie. No follow up text and no explanation as you racked your brain for hours for what that could mean. It was impossible to focus on anything else while trying to concentrate on your latest proposal. 

  Frankie told you not to make a big deal of Valentine’s Day like you usually did, since it was in the middle of your busy work week and he knew you always loved spoiling him in any way you possibly could. In the kitchen, in the bedroom, in public spaces, in front of his friends…you wanted to show people how much you loved and cared for him. He was insistent that you not plan anything for this day so that’s (sort of )what you did. 

  You couldn’t help yourself…you had to do a little something to show him how much he meant to you. How every waking moment of your day had thoughts of him. 

  You stare at the small pink paper bag in the passenger seat of your car and smile to yourself. Frankie was going to lose his mind over your special Valentine’s Day gift. 

  ****

  Your mouth is watering as you enter your shared home. The sight of Frankie in the kitchen, your apron stretched comically across his belly and the smell of baked dough and garlic permeating your senses. 

  He forgoes a spoon as he dips his fingers in the sauce, licking them with a loud pop as it drips down his wrist. He smirks at you as you try not to trip over your own feet, setting down your work bag on the chair as you round the kitchen island. 

  “Have a seat baby.” His husky tone seeps into your bones as you slide into the seat at the table. 

  You can’t help but rub your thighs together for some friction as you watch him cook for you. The thing you always do for him, the thing he loves so much and you would do a thousand times over so you could watch him moan and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he eats to his heart's content. 

  He brings a spoonful over carefully holding his hand underneath so as to not spill a drop. “I made my famous spaghetti.” 

  You can see his eyes widen as the sauce hits your lips. Perhaps the same look you give him when he indulges in one of the many meals you make. It’s a whirlwind being on the receiving end of this kind of attention. It may be a while before he relinquishes this kind of control back to you. He finally has a taste of how you feel when he’s helpless to your witchcraft. It’s the only way he can describe how you can reduce him to a puddle of mush after stuffing him full of your love. 

  “I’ve never heard of this ‘famous’ dish.” You smile at him as you unbutton your blouse. His eyes flit to your chest briefly as he serves you up a plate. 

  “Ask Benny…it’s notoriously famous.” He winks at you and you’re unsure of what exactly that means but it can’t be good. 

  “Did I tell you how much I loved you today?” You say with a mouthful of food. 

  “I was made for lovin you baby.” He leans in kissing your cheek, leaving a smudge of sauce behind. 

  You can feel his eyes practically burning a hole through your clothing as you moan at the taste of his food. He’s made a mental note to cook for you now at least once a week if you’ll let him, just for his own personal enjoyment. 

  You’re just about to tell him to stop ogling you and eat when you see his eyes on your pink bag. 

  “Mouse?” He juts his chin. “What’s in the bag?” 

  “Oh…that’s just dessert.” You feign innocence and resume your meal as he leans back in the chair. Arms crossed over his large frame while he studies you. 

  “Let’s have it then.” He growled at you as he reached across the table for the bag. You swiftly pulled it away chuckling to yourself at the warning look he gives you. “Mouse I’m serious…let me see it.” 

  “I just don’t want you to ruin your appetite on dessert.” You tease as you reach in the bag revealing your new lingerie set. 

  He audibly gulps and his eyes are comically wide. “Is that…is that candy?” 

  “Mhm…the top is watermelon and the bottoms are-“

  You shriek when he cuts you off as he yanks your chair back and throws you over his shoulder. 

  “I’m having my dessert now.” 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[savagechickens]

Lucky Lure.

A final(?) appearance by the catfish!

[daisyducklover2021]

Dancing in the deep blue sea.

[eminsunnytoons123]

Some moopets Arts And doodles from january And february this year

Since im gonna post the moopets again this weekend, y'all can have these doodles And drawings of them that i really love like fer sure =^///^=

[disneyprincemuke]

passing the phone (rookie edition) * fem!driver

(series masterlist) | (📂 a day in the life)

“i’m passing the phone to somebody who texts like he’s writing a professional email.”

oscar scoffs, staring off camera as he takes the phone into his hands. “excuse me for writing the way i was taught.” he lifts up the phone. “i’m passing the phone to somebody who didn’t know what a kilometer was until he was 15.”

“because i grew up miami, the fuck,” logan mutters. he sighs. “i’m passing the phone to somebody who has a million problems with drs, which, seems to only be his issue.”

“whatever.” oscar scrunches his nose. “i’m passing the phone to somebody who tripped when she was stepping up to the podium and then cried about it for a half hour on the way home.”

“wow,” she mutters, eyebrows furrowed as her cheeks slowly turn red. “passing the phone to somebody who barely remembers our trip to barcelona because he partied too hard.”

“passing the phone to somebody who’s a 21-year-old virgin but gives advice like she’s a licensed therapist,” oscar says quickly, putting the phone down to smirk at her smugly.

“passing the phone to somebody who got suspended from school for a week because he told the teacher that he didn’t care about school and had to miss a karting race that weekend as punishment.”

“i’m passing the phone to somebody who had a crush on our literal best friend,” oscar says, leaning into the mic and whispering as he looks around cautiously.

logan stares into the camera wide-eyed, slowly turning to oscar who’s giggling in the corner. “what the f-“

he reappears at the camera, calmer this time. “passing the phone to somebody who talked to the quiet girl making top 30’s during karting because he thought she was kinda cute.”

oscar sighs. “i’m passing the phone to somebody who cried outside the club in singapore because the food we ordered for dinner was too spicy for her to handle eating.”

she rolls her eyes. “i’m passing the phone to somebody who got catfished in secondary school by a guy pretending to be a girl.”

logan smiles, cheeks red as he held the phone up. “i’m passing the phone to somebody who got broken up with over a 13-second phone call.”

“low blow,” she frowns. “passing the phone to somebody who pulled up to the club with fake eyelashes because he lost a bet to me.”

“passing the phone to the girl that picked up and adopted three kittens she found in a box at the corner of the street in austin at 5am after a night out,” logan scowls.

“i’m passing the phone to somebody who made being american his entire personality.”

“and i’m passing the phone to somebody who almost made us miss our flight because he left his passport on the toilet sink at the airport,” logan scowls.

oscar’s lips are pressed together in a thin line. “i don’t wanna play this game anymore.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

What Is and Isn't a Fish: a List

A list of the animals I discussed in my fish essay, but for those who don't want to scroll through paragraphs of text to find out if an animal is or isn't a fish. Just CTRL+F your way through here!

I'll add onto here more animals whenever I get asked about them being fish. See my fish essay here!

Some notes before you proceed:

Yes, all tetrapods are fish! We are phylogenetically fish, as we are and our ancestors were lobe-finned fish! "Fish" in the phylogenetic sense is a paraphyletic group if you try to exclude tetrapods, so it is frankly impossible.

How come tetrapods aren't listed as fish then? Long answer, read my essay. Short answer, me and other fish accounts tend to operate on the morphological definition of fish, so does most of the world. Here I use the morphological definition of "fish".

Fish:

Jawless fish

Hagfish

Lamprey

Cartilaginous fish

Sharks

Dogfish

Whale shark

Chimaeras/Chimeras/Ghost sharks

Ratfish

Ray

Stingray

Skate

Ray-finned fish

Teleosts

Catfish

Eels

Moray eel

Seahorse

Sea dragon

Lobe-finned fish

Coelacanth

Lungfish

Not Fish:

Crustaceans

Krill

Shrimp

Crab

Crayfish/Crawfish/Crawdad

Lobster

Spiny lobster

Triops

Mantis shrimp

Barnacle

Isopod

Copepod

Shellfish

Mollusks/Molluscs

Gastropods

Sea snail

Sea slug

Snails and slugs in general

Sea angel

Sea hare

Sea bunny

Cephalopods

Octopus

Squid

Cuttlefish

Nautilus

Inkfish

Bivalves

Clam

Mussel

Scallop

Oyster

Chiton

Chelicerates

Horseshoe crab

Sea spider

Water mite

Diving bell spider

Cnidarians

Jellyfish/Sea jelly/Jelly

Coral

Sea anemone/Anemone

Siphonophores

Portugese man o' war

Echinoderms

Sea cucumber

Sea pig

Feather star

Sand dollar

Sea biscuit

Sea cookie

Brittle star/Serpent star

Sea urchin

Starfish/Sea star

Comb jelly

Lancelet

Tunicates

Sea squirt

Salp

Annelids

Bristle worm

Bobbit worm

Spoon worm

Giant tube worm

Bone-eating worm

Sea mouse/Sea mice

Feather duster worm

Christmas tree worm

Leech

Flatworm

Amphibians

Salamander

Amphiuma

Mudpuppy/Mud puppy

Waterdog

Olm

Axolotl

Siren

Frog

Toad

Tadpole

Caecilian

Reptiles

Sea snake

Water snake

Snakes in general

Sea krait

Turtle

Snapping turtle

Softshell turtle

Sea turtle

Terrapin

Marine iguana

Crocodilian

Crocodile

Alligator

Caiman

Gharial

Bird

Penguin

Seagull

Loon

Swan

Mammals

Whale

Orca

Baleen whale

Toothed whale

Dolphin

River dolphin

Porpoise

Narwhal

Beluga whale

Sperm whale

Pinniped

Seal

Sea lion

Leopard seal

Elephant seal

Walrus

Sirenian

Manatee

Sea cow

Dugong

Otter

Sea otter

Beaver

Hippo

Platypus

Muskrat

Water shrew

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

Thank you for the tags @janto4ev @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings @sznofthesticks @strandnreyes @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @alrightbuckaroo @whatsintheboxmh & @bonheur-cafe 💕💕 Marjan & TK fic is coming along nicely, I wrote about 1,600 words last night and I’m really loving where it’s going.

She didn’t wear a hijab that Eid. She’d asked, but her mother had been hesitant, said she wanted her to take her time. For her to feel comfortable in the garment, with what it meant to wear it, and how overwhelming it could feel to wear it in public places. She worried for her sweet, soft spoken little mouse, how vulnerable she would be, how confusing it might be for her if people looked at her differently, treated her differently. Instead she and a couple aunties sat Marjan down one day and showed her how to wear it. Auntie Nora had brushed Marjan’s hair back reverently, demonstrating the importance of caring for her thick curly hair, of keeping it healthy and beautiful despite covering it.

“This is to protect your beautiful hair, habibi,” Auntie Nora said, while she ran the soft brush through Marjan’s hair, smoothing out the curls. Readying it to be wrapped. “We cover our hair, but we never forget the importance of caring for it.”

When Marjan’s hair had been sufficiently tamed, her mother tenderly wrapped it in the turquoise scarf Marjan had chosen from her mom’s scarf drawer, showing her to wrap diagonally first, and how to pin it safely. In the following weeks and months her mother helped her practice until she’d perfected the wraps and the pins. Her aunties brought her scarves in many styles and colors, blues and pinks, ombrés and patterns, silks and chiffon. There were square shapes and long, long scarves that flowed almost as long as she was tall. They showed her different ways to wrap them, there were tassels and side twists, the loose drape and the side knot, the criss cross and the turban. Auntie Nora even showed her how to wrap it up like Rosie the Riveter! Like the powerful woman on the poster her favorite teacher, Mr. Hazelwood, displayed next to the chalkboard in his classroom.

There were so many ways to wear the hijab, so many beautiful and unique ways to express herself.

For months she wore it around the house, getting used to it. What it felt like in the kitchen, what it felt like in the backyard, in the sunroom. It felt special, like a secret between herself and her mother, and between her and Allah.

Tagging @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-in-glasses @your-catfish-friend @inkweedandlizards @theghostofashton @kiwichaeng @ladytessa74 @carlos-tk @redshirt2 @literateowl @freneticfloetry @orchidscript @guardian-angle22 @my-little-tilly @tinyluminaryzombie @basilsunrise @louis-ii-reyes-strand @herefortarlos @apothecarose @rmd-writes @thebumblecee @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @itsrandomnobody7 @iinryer @liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader @iboatedhere @never-blooms @ambiguouspenny @paperstorm @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @noxsoulmate @detective-giggles @decafdino and OPEN TAG 🏷️

[suwbuns]

E-DATERS! | catfishing

SYPNOSIS. moving back to korea from america, y/n is excited to reunite with her old friends and make new ones. what she doesnt expect is to find herself reuniting with her “ex-boyfriend” from 10 years ago who she dated over minecraft. what makes things worse? he happens to be her favorite streamer who she has been pinning after for years.

written + screenshots below!

with a random youtube video playing on one monitor and his minecraft browser running on the other, beomgyu briefly glanced at his second screen, scanning the chat log to see if any join message had appeared.

he had been on his computer for almost an entire 24 hours, not that it was different than his normal routine, but what made it different was the fact that he had been waiting specifically for her the whole time. he spent 2 of those hours exploring the world that he hadnt touched ever since the day he had realized that y/n was not coming back, swarmed with past memories and nostalgia that pressured him into wanting to talk to her again.

13 year old beomgyu waited days for her; when his parents were asleep he would secretly sneak down the stairs to the family desktop and when he would get out of school he would rush back home and go straight to his computer, each time logging back into the game to check for any signs that she might’ve been there.

she said she would only be gone for 2 weeks, but for 5 whole months he waited for her.

even til this day, beomgyu had no clue why he cared so much about the girl he never met. a childish online relationship that managed to have such a tight hold on him.

“this is ridiculous” he scoffed at himself, realizing the situation that he was on that had him waiting on her, again.

“all this for a girl, who for all i know, might not even be a girl!” he threw his hands up in the air, growing frustrated, he moved his mouse to click out of the game and possibly never return to it again.

diamondgirl123 has joined the game.

completely freezing in his tracks, his eyes fixated on the join message and read it over and over again. the tight grip that he had on his mouse loosened, yet his cursor had still hovered over the exit button.

diamondgirl123: hey

diamondgirl123: um sorry for leaving so suddenly earlier, i was just startled

diamondgirl123: its been a while tho, how are u?

furrowing his eyebrows, a million thoughts had swarmed him, causing him to feel conflicted about her sudden appearance. he didnt know why he felt such anger and annoyance, after all, didn’t he stay in hopes that she would show up?

he wanted more from her. that out of those years he was left hanging, didn’t he atleast deserve better than that? disregarding her question, his fingers flew across his keyboard to type a response.

gamerboycbg01: yeah, it has.

gamerboycbg01: why show up now lol, you did a good job disappearing.

he anxiously drummed his fingers against the wooden surface of his desk, beginning to overthink if whether or not his reply was too rude and blunt, considering its been a while since they last spoke. before he could type out an apology, a new message appeared from her.

diamondgirl123: im sorry.

diamondgirl123: do you have a social media we can chat on? ill explain everything there

diamondgirl123: it just feels weird to be having a serious conversation over minecraft lol

gamerboycbg01: uh yeah gimme a sec

with the adrenaline running through him and his anger subsiding at her sudden question, beomgyu felt himself panicking at the thought of having to expose his identity. ripping his headset from his ears, beomgyu bolted across the hallway and opened a door abruptly to jeongin in his computer chair. his knees were pulled tightly towards his chest as he sat back, engrossed in whatever k-drama that he had yet to finish.

his head snapped towards the boy who walked through his doorway, rolling his eyes and continuing to fixate his attention on his screen when he realized the culprit of the interruption.

“ever heard of knocking? what if i was—“

“yeah yeah i dont care” beomgyu interrupted. “i need another twitter account, do you still have the password to the account with a decent amount of followers?

“why? are you planning on catfishing some random girl to prove to us that you are capable of being good with women?” he responded, chuckling lightheartedly at the boy. “because im telling you, the only thing youre going to get out of it is your name trending on twitter and 50 thousand lost followers.”

following his snarky remark, jeongin received a slap towards the back of his head, yelping at the sudden pain.

“alright fine!” jeongin frowned, rubbing the back of his head as if it would aid in settling the sensation.

“yeah i still have it. you better change the account name though,” jeongin said, taking beomgyu’s phone out of his hands to type in the account details. “because the last time i used this account, i was catfishing as some 10 year old girl to catch online predators for content.”

beomgyu hummed in response, obtaining his phone back from jeongins grasp. scrolling through the account, beomgyu made a mental note of the things to change, including the dozens of inappropriate tweets before he could send the profile to you.

“do you think you can give me another name with the same initials as me? cbg?”

previous | masterlist | next

taglist. @openingssequence @suburbiataehyung @shinypieceofgarbage @koeuh @captivq @beowmgyu @qluvrv @ikaeryn @whippedforbeomgyu @i8lhee @heyanonymous123 @vanicogh @sulliefimmie @tae-ology @milkycloudtyg @ox1-lovesick @soobsfairy444 @sulliefimmie @jaxavance @peachenle @pokyloky @peachybeom @alpha-mommy69 @fatoompie @ashxxkook @soobsdior @viagumi @rikismiel @luvsoobs

fun fact! jeongin gave the name bogum because park bogum was the lead actor in the kdrama he was watching 😭

a/n. sorry i didnt post yesterday i literally knocked out when i got homeee. but idk if i will continue daily updates we will have to see, also i caNT WRITE FOR SHIT 😭😭😭

[undercovercannibal]

PART 1

(I will add links to future parts here once I've finished them)

some of the fics on this list are no longer available on ao3 and can be accessed through links to my own dropbox account instead

under 10k words

dogbirded by ikeracity (@ikeracity) - T | 2,426 words

Charles has been talking to a guy on the Mutant & Proud dating site for the last two months. He's fairly certain he's being catfished because the guy's profile picture is Erik Lehnsherr, famous actor and A-list celebrity, but he's enjoying their conversations all the same. Never in a million years would he ever imagine that he's actually been flirting with Erik Lehnsherr, and that Erik Lehnsherr is actually into him. Because that would never, ever happen in real life...right?

First Impressions by Black_Betty - T | 3,438 words

Charles Xavier, youngest CEO in Xavier Corp history, society darling and playboy philanthropist drops a bombshell when he comes out. Now he just wants to be left alone.

Heli Cases by Black_Betty - E | 5,892 words

"Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces. It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep. (Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)

10k+ words

You Show Me Yours by endingthemes - M | 11,141 words

When Erik receives nudes in the middle of the night from an unknown number, he's confused and mildly amused. He doesn't expect it to turn into an actual conversation...with feelings. As if that's not baffling enough, his friend's brother ends up crashing at his place, further complicating everything.

Make a list of everything that's ever been on fire by cm (mumblemutter) - E | Underage, Half-Sibling Incest | 13,155 words

We're brothers, you and I. We want the same thing.

we might just be hollywood material, baby by ikeracity (@ikeracity) and midrashic - T | 15,443 words

Greenkeep was an American animated television series created by Logan Howlett for Toon TV. The series follows mouse scholar Jess (Charles Xavier); his rival, the otter warrior Miska (Erik Lehnsherr); and their cohort of friends and allies as they fight to overthrow the Kingdom of Crows which has occupied their homeland. It aired for six seasons, from February 2003 to June 2009. Greenkeep received critical acclaim for its characters, soundtrack, and exploration of complex themes such as war and free will. It was the first significant project of several prominent actors, including Sean Cassidy, Alex Summers, and Raven Darkhölme, and is also known for its role in introducing Academy Award-winning actor Charles Xavier and his now-husband, director and producer Erik Lehnsherr.

From Westminster With Love by thehoyden - E | 16,152 words

NATO intelligence says there’s an omega-class telepath who sleeps under Westminster. Major Erik Lehnsherr is about to find out the truth for himself.

Made To Be Broken (dropbox) by Yahtzee - E | 18,220 words

Charles makes a New Year's Resolution: "No more straight men," Charles repeated as he began scrolling through the apartment directory for Emma's name. "No more futility. No more pointless hoping and heartbreak. In 2013, I never want to hear the words 'exception,' 'experimenting' or 'phase.' If, God forbid, I hear 'bicurious' even once, I may take a hostage." Then he goes into the party, and Erik is there.

Favorite Mistake by endingthemes - M | 19,266 words

Charles Xavier doesn’t think anything of it when he sneaks out without even saying goodbye to his latest one-night stand. What he doesn’t expect is to walk into his new position in the Xavier Industries marketing department and find that his latest hook-up is now his new boss.

Xmas in Connecticut (dropbox) by Yathzee - T | 19,466 words

In December 1944, the entire nation loves Rebecca Lawrence - "America's Most Beloved Homemaker." Her columns about leading the ideal life in the country help lift people's spirits on the home front during World War II. But when her publisher asks her to host a war hero for Christmas dinner, the world is in danger of learning the truth … which is that "Rebecca Lawrence" is imaginary. Really, she's a combination of Raven's snappy writing and Charles' knowhow in the kitchen. However, this war hero, Erik Lehnsherr, is headed to Connecticut, so Raven and Charles have no choice but to find a way to make the imaginary real - at least, just for Christmas. Charles thinks they can pull it off, at least until he opens the door to see Erik and falls in love at first sight.

Serendipity by humanveil (@humanveil) and yuelle - T | 19,785 words

Charles sends a text to the wrong number. [10:22 AM] Can we meet for coffee? I just got dumped. [10:30 AM] I think you've got the wrong number. [10:31 AM] Unless you make a habit of texting people you don't know about this sort of thing?

20k+ words

Whispers and Tingles by sareyen - E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 23,769 words

Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, broke, horny, misanthropic college student. He's always known that audio porn existed, but he never really got into it. But then he discovers the audios made by one smooth-talking, English-accented and infuriatingly filthy (and sweet) ProfessorXXX and, well, he never looked back. Or: Erik is a horny college student who discovers audio porn made by one ProfessorXXX and becomes his #1 fan (and they fall in love)

30k+ words

rooms/shares by pocky_slash - T | 33,140 words

Erik is single, working a cube job he hates, letting his master's degree in mutant studies collect dust, and living on his best friend's couch. When she kicks him out, he's forced to trawl Craigslist for the least-offensive rooming option within his meagre budget. He never expects a response from the persnickety, high maintenance ad he replies to as a joke, but it's possible this too-nice apartment and mysteriously absent roommate might be the answer to all four of his problems.

Plain sight by aesc and pearl_o - E | 37,000 words

When he was eleven years old, Charles ran away and disappeared. Eight years later, as a curious detective begins to notice his traces, Charles thinks he's finally ready to join the real world once more. But as it turns out, learning to be among people again isn't easy -- and his relationship with Erik is perhaps the most complicated of all.

Paper Monsters by Clocks - E | 39,240 words

Charles meets Erik Lehnsherr, his favorite novelist of all time at a coffee shop, but doesn't know it's him, and Erik just criticizes his own writing in front of his biggest fan.

40k+ words

Mutually Beneficial Transaction by Pookaseraph - E | 41,572 words

In his sophomore year at Columbia University, Erik, feeling slowly strangled by his mounting college debt, places an add on a sugar daddies website. He doesn't know exactly what to expect from it, but when he's contacted by a man named Charles who seems less creepy than the other people who have responded to his profile, he decides to give it a shot. Charles is nothing like what he expected, and Erik finds himself slowly falling in love with his sugar daddy while trying to find out exactly what caused this amazing guy to buy his emotional and sexual intimacy when he clearly deserves so much more than that.

Something About Us by obstinatrix and seutedeern - E | Underage | 41,997 words

The old fashioned Strangers-on-a-Train idea has always seemed like an Old Hollywood myth to Charles, who's never really spared any random strangers more than a passing glance during his commutes to and from school. Nobody really meets people like that these days. Except that, now he finds himself looking forward to his morning train ride and the chance to have a chat with the handsome man who only approached him because of the book he was reading.

Bifurcation (dropbox) by spicedpiano - E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - medical gore | 47,167 words

Bifurcation - (n.) the splitting of a main body into two parts. In medicine, a single mistake can mean the difference between life and death. For cardiovascular surgeon Charles Xavier, a fatal error leaves him standing at a crossroads … and at the mercy of the man he has not faced since their relationship fell apart thirteen months ago. Dr. Erik Lehnsherr has a fearsome reputation. Due to his incisive autopsy reports, he has gotten more surgeons fired in two years than any other pathologist has managed over an entire career. But when an old enemy returns to Erik's life, he must find a way to temper his pride -- or lose the man he loves, all over again.

50k+ words

April by nextraordinaire - E | 56,219 words

In the sharp, unforgiving plains of the Canadian Arctic, Erik is since long adapted to solitude and silence. Separated from civilization, dedicated to nothing but his research, he has formed a life that suits him. There is nothing he would ever want to change. So, naturally, the arrival of grad student Charles Xavier upends everything Erik ever thought he wanted, for better or for worse.

60k+ words

A Maschine Without Feelings by sareyen - E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 65,713 words

A Jane Eyre AU: Small and measured but intelligent and determined, Charles Xavier is a child born into circumstances of hardship; his father died just after he was born and his mother remarried a cruel and hard man, who cast him out to boarding school when he was ten. After a difficult childhood, Charles found employment as a tutor at the grand Ironfield Hall, where he meets its master - the brooding and seemingly cold Mr Lehnsherr. Charles is drawn to the enigma that is Mr Lehnsherr, but mysterious and frightening events begin occurring in Ironfield Hall, threatening to destroy everything Charles has grown to cherish.

70k+ words

Machiavelli Online by KesaKo (unfinished, but the only thing missing is the epilogue which is why I still feel comfortable recommending it) - E | 77,963 words

Charles and Erik are each at the head of a mutant rights student union in their university. As they are known to bicker and argue, everyone assumes they must be enemies. Unbeknownst to all, Erik has in fact a gigantic crush on the extremely flirtatious and extremely straight Charles Xavier, so he decides to set up a female Facebook account to get some dick pics. As usual with Erik, it’s a bad plan.

100k+ words

Strict Machine by euphorbic (only accessible with an ao3 account) - E | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | 150,579 words

When Professor Charles F Xavier accepted a visiting professor position in Arizona, he did so in order to be geographically closer to his sister. What he did not expect to find was the living, breathing specter of the sportbike gang-oriented past he’d been trying to put to rest. A tale of sport bikes, consequences, and sacrifice.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity (@ikeracity) and Pangea - E | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con | 162,781 words

Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he's settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.

All the Rest is Rust and Stardust (dropbox) by spicedpiano and tahariel - E | Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Alternate Universe - BDSM – content warnings at the end of each chapter no longer available | 669,812 words

Charles Xavier is the world's preeminent mutant psychologist, called in to consult for the CIA when a raid on a Hellfire Club safehouse discovers a severely abused teenager, Erik Lehnsherr. Taking Erik in soon leads Charles to struggle between his conflicting responsibilities as Erik's guardian and psychologist, and his desire to give in to the dangerous dynamic that is developing between them.

[beefrobeefcal]

I have a Thot to contribute for the Beefro Repentance Tiddie Fic, in case it is helpful or shall I say... titillating? 😂 (I'm sorry)

Since it didn't specify who gets milked, maybe we go back to late-stage pregnant Mouse? A little lactation play where Frankie drinks from her after dinner until he tops off his big full belly? (Big enough to rival her bump 🥵)

Or since it sounds like nonnie wants some male breast play too...add Frankie and Mouse playing with each other's delectable chests first?

Anyway just some ideas! I wasn't expecting your poll to turn out how it did, not gonna lie 😄 But hey, I'll enjoy wherever you take us with this!

You're a lifesaver, Reby!

fucking RIGHTS we need to expose Frankie's Breeding, Pregnancy & Lactation Kinks!

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Mouse's Relief

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant Fem!Reader

Summary: Frankie helps Mouse find relief.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 2,382

Content Warning: pregnancy talk, main character pregnant, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, 5-knuckle shuffle (male), lactation, breast feeding, breast milk, cumming in pants, weight talk, eating, sore breasts

Author's Notes: Thank you @rebel-held for the assistance you provided in your THOT. Thank you to @thehalflifeofloveisforever, @theywhowriteandknowthings & @neverwheremoonchild for their input, eyes and THOTs.

--------<3---------

It had been a day. You were now on maternity leave, supposedly to be giving yourself some down time before your baby arrived, but you’d been anything but relaxed today.  

Your baby had been kicking the same rib over and over for the last three days, not allowing you to have any restful sleep; your big belly weighed heavily on you, making movements hard; and to top it all off, your milk had come in, making your breasts extremely sore and heavy.  

Pregnancy was so uncomfortable.  

Thankfully, it was a Friday and that meant you had Frankie all to yourself from the moment he got home to Monday morning at 6:00 am. He’s been so patient and caring with you, rubbing your feet and back, switching sides of the bed with you so you could be closer to the bathroom, and giving you your space when you needed to just be left alone because of the raging hormones in your body, then running back the moment you needed to be held.  

Despite being so uncomfortable, you decided to do something special for him to dinner and make his favourite – lasagna.  

**** 

Frankie arrived home, opening up the back door to the smell of his absolute favourite. He smiled and walked into the kitchen, seeing you leaning against the counter, your hands holding your phone and resting on your big belly, while you scrolled through whatever app you were hooked on today. He couldn’t help but notice how much more pronounced your chest was, and his cock twitched in his jeans. But before he could do anything, he knew he needed to test the waters first.  

“Hey mama…”, he said softly with a smile, coming up beside you and splaying his hand over your middle. He pressed a kiss on your temple and moved his hand over your sore side. “How’s the rib?” 

You sighed with a tired smile. “Sore… but okay. How was work?” 

He didn’t want to talk about work. Not when that sigh heaved your swollen tits, making his cock twitch harder.  

“Baby…”, he cooed as he kissed your neck, continuing to test whether you’d let him go further, and he reached up and gently palmed your tit.  

You hissed in pain, and he jumped back. “What? What happened?” 

“They hurt… so much… I’m sorry, Frankie. Please don’t touch my boobs.” 

“What- why are they so sore, Mouse?”, he asked, sounding concerned with a slight hint of annoyance.  

“Milk’s coming in, and they’re swollen and-“ 

“I can see that.”, he stated, his eyes glued to your ample cleavage.  

“Frankie.” Your tone was indicative of your own irritation and a warning that your hormonal temper was rearing its head.  

He looked up to your face and offered a sheepish grin.  

“Okay… no touching the tiddies.” 

You sighed again, not wanting your weekend to start with your mood. “It’s okay, baby. Dinner will be ready soon so you should have your shower. “ 

He nodded with a smile and kissed you quickly before heading to the bedroom.  

As Frankie stood in the shower, he tried to ignore his semi hard-on but his mind kept slipping back to the sight of you, round and heavy, tits swollen and all because of him. He gripped his now fully hard cock and pumped himself, thinking about how good you feel and smell and look, and…  

He came fast, his come hitting the shower wall then washing away under the spray of the shower. As he calmed down, he thought about how quickly he hit his release by his own hand when his mind was filled with you being pregnant. He grinned to himself as he finished his shower, making a mental note to take some more pictures of you like this for his personal spank bank, especially if you decided one kid was enough. He dried off and got dressed, heading back out into the kitchen with you.  

***** 

The lasagna was gone, and Frankie’s belly was the only evidence that it had ever existed. You couldn’t stomach it, so he had eaten your portion as well, so you had some fruit and soup instead.  

“Fuck me, Mouse… we both look like we’re about to pop.”, he chuckled, trying to pull down his T-shirt, the same one that fit just fine a few weeks ago.  

“Head to the couch, I’ll clean up.”, you said, standing up and wincing.  

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely not, mama.”, he grunted as he stood up. “I’ll clean up later. You need to relax.” 

After some coaxing, Frankie had convinced you to have a bath and he would be ready for you when you were done.  

As you soaked, Frankie sat on the couch, full belly sitting heavily on his lap, and he searched online for how to help you with your sore breasts. He read about warm compresses and massaging, then his heart almost jumped into his throat and his cock came to standing attention at once when he read that he could express the milk by sucking it out. He groaned and palmed at his hard on through his sweatpants. Yup. He was going to be so helpful.  

You got out of the bath, feeling more relaxed, minus your breasts, and got into your lounge clothes, then made your way out to the living room. You stopped in the doorway and watched as Frankie grunted looking at his phone with a feral intensity and his hand palming his crotch.  

“Am I interrupting anything?” Your tone was teasing and the grin on your face told him to not stop on your account.  

“I think I can help you… with your tiddy problem.”, he grunted, tossing his phone to the couch and standing up. He walked towards you, his eyes fixed on your chest, and he licked his lips.  

“Frankie! I said they’re sore!” 

“I know… and I wanna help.”, he groaned as he pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck. If it wasn’t for the fact you both had pronounced bellies, you know you’d feel his cock pressing into you.  

His hand came up and slipped under your shirt and he gently caressed your breast through your flimsy bralette. Your breath hitches and he hushed you and kissed your neck again.  

“Don’t think you understand what you do to me, looking like this, mama… your fucking body is just…”  

He grunted as his cock tried to find friction when he bucked his hips, and he softly twisted your nipple. You gasped and let out a pained whine, but he held you firmly where you were.  

“Lemma help, mama… please.”, he pleaded against your neck, breathing heavily. “Lemme make it better.” 

You winced again at his hands, as gentle and wonderful as they felt, and seriously considered telling him off. But the desperation in his voice plus the warmth of his hand on your swollen breast gave you pause.  

He stood up, nudging his nose against yours, his eyelids heavy and he whispered please again. You nodded and he led you to the couch.  

Once you were seated, he went to the bathroom and grabbed a few towels, and put them beside you. He leaned down, holding himself above you with his hand on the back of the couch. He kissed you, and you could tell he was holding himself back as he did. He released your lips and pressed his forehead against yours.  

“Fuck, Mouse, you look so good like this…”, he panted as he stood up. “I’m gonna help…” 

He dropped to his knees between yours and pushed your shirt up over tour belly, kissing and mouthing his way up. You watched him with wide eyes, and it dawned on you what he was planning.   

“Frankie? What are you gonna-“ 

“Gonna make it better, mama… gonna help you.”, he grunted again, pushing your shirt your breasts and pulling it over your head.  

He sat back on his heels and looked you over with a ravenous ferocity in his eyes.  

“Fuck... yes, mama... look so good...”, he groaned, his hands going to your swollen middle. “No idea what it does to me to see you stretching out your shirts because you're so full of my baby... tits looking amazing....” 

He dove his face forward, kissing your belly again, moving up to mouth your nipple through the jersey knit fabric of your bralette. It felt amazing, but also completely confusing and overwhelming. The only time Frankie had expressed this much admiration for your swollen body was when he was drunk; he would get handsy and needy and would whine and beg you to ride him or let him fuck you in front of a mirror so he could see you. He was never this demanding and gropey and domineering. This was new and you were not mad at it. 

“Frankie...”, you whined as you panted when he nipped just a bit too hard at your breast. “Please! They’re so sore... please be gentle!” 

“I know... I know, mama... I’m gonna help.”, he cooed, sucking your nipple lightly through your bralette. 

You sucked in your breath and your hand went to his head, gripping his hair, and you winced as he added pressure with his hand to your other breast, causing it to leak a bit. When he felt the warmth of your milk saturate your bralette, he sat back and stared. His pupils were so blown out, you could no longer differentiate where his irises were, and his eyes were fixed on your clothed, leaking breast. 

“Frankie... are you gonna...?”, you asked quietly through heavy breathing. 

His eyes didn’t move as he nodded slowly and licked his lips. His hands came up and pulled your bralette off, releasing your heavy breasts, and his mouth immediately grasped one of your nipples and sucked. You let out a breathy whine and once again gripped his hair, this time with both hands. The pinch and pull of him sucking to get your milk moving was almost too much until you felt a release.  You sighed at the relief that washed over you and Frankie groaned as milk spurted into his mouth.  

He swallowed mouthful after mouthful of milk, grunting as he suckled, despite his belly already being full from his big dinner. He didn’t care about the ever-tightening feeling in his middle; his mind had a singular focus and that was what he had in his mouth.  

When he felt like he couldn’t get more from that breast, he released your nipple and licked it, looking up at you with dark eyes and panting. He moved over to your other breast, now leaking even more, and nudged it with his nose and his tongue darted out, licking up the escaped milk.  

“Jesus... Mouse... you taste so fucking good...”, he grunted as he lapped up the warm liquid. His voice sounded deep and primal, like your weeping tits had unlocked some deep seeded need Frankie hadn’t tapped into yet. 

You locked eyes with him again and he made a low growl as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and began sucking on it greedily.  

You leaned forward a bit and one of your hands slid down, looking for his hard cock, but his belly was in the way. You knew he was full before, but now his belly would rival yours. It felt tight and as your fingers rubbed and prodded him, and you felt his body move as he rutted his hips.  

“Poor baby... bet your dick is just aching... but you’re too big for me to get it... I can feel how full you are, Frankie baby... belly’s getting big... but you like this, don’t you... getting fat because you put a baby in me... that’s it... good boy...”, you cooed, stroking his hair. 

A low moan emanated from Frankie and his grip on your thighs tightened and he panted through gulps. When he finally drained the second breast, he sat back, and you released his hair. He looked like he was in another realm of existence, with milk dripping down his chin and his eyes blown out. He was panting and fell back and laid on the floor, his extremely full belly prominently jutting out above him and groaned. 

It took some work, but you got up off the couch, pulled on your sweater, and stood above Frankie, gently rocking back and forth, rubbing your belly. 

“Baby... your belly’s bigger than mine right now.”, you smiled, nudging his lovehandle gently with your foot and noted the wet patch on the crotch of his sweatpants. You grinned, knowing exactly what that was. 

He lifted his head and looked at his swollen middle and dropped it back down again.  “Fuck, I’m full.”, he groaned and closed his eyes. 

“I’d get on the floor and give you a belly rub, but...”, you grinned, motioning to your baby bump. “We both don’t need to be stuck on the down there.” 

Frankie huffed a laugh, his eyes opening as he looked up at you. “How are your boobs?” 

“Much better, thank you.”, you chuckle, as he struggles to lug himself upright. 

Once he stands up, you can see his back arching to accommodate the weight in his belly. You reach forward and rub his tummy and smile.  

“Kinda over did it, huh?”, you asked, giving him a pat and leaning towards him to press a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”, he murmured as smiled and splayed his hand on your belly, feeling your little one moving around.  

“So, you came in your pants, huh?”, you said pointedly with an eyebrow raised. 

He huffed a laugh, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and pulled you to his side. “Yeah... I came in my fucking pants.” 

“Sucking on my tits was so good that you came in your pants? You kinky bastard...” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah... ”, he grinned, nudging you towards the bedroom and swatting at your backside.  

You stopped and grinned, biting your lower lip, as you felt his belly press into your back, and he wrapped his arms around your middle.  

“Watch your mouth... carrying my baby can only save you from so much, Mama.”, he growled into your ear as he guided you down the hallway and int your bedroom. 

--------<3---------

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal

[prod-ddeonu]

TIGHTY WHITIES | p.js

episode 4: tick, tick, boom.

pairing: college! Jay x fem! reader

CW/TW: enemies to lovers, smau, angst, fluff, smut, horrible comedy, slice of life, jay gets exposed BAD, kys jokes, assault, drinking, mentions of bullying and anger issues, arguing, they're both pretty bad in this one but Jay def took the cake

synopsis: You and Park Jongseong have been enemies for years. Heck, the two of you grew up picking fights with each other. A hateful war of tricks and deceit turns from bad to worse, however, when you finally trump him. Nobody can come back from having a photo of themself in tighty whities sent to the entire school, right?

status: ongoing!

taglist: open! (fill out the google form to be added! your user should be tagged on the masterlist and the next chapter after you submit!)

word count: 1.08k

You were simply sitting down and enjoying a nice relaxing moment in the quad, watching the water spill from the fountain. Sure, the world may have been on fire behind you, but you just wanted to watch the water droplets soar downwards.

A harsh set of footsteps land beside you. You already knew who it was by the way his feet stomped down. He cleared his throat once, loudly.

You twisted your neck to look at him, your eyes meeting his. The cockiness in your stare may have only served to boil his blood, you thought, but anyone in your position would have their ego boosted.

You'd just won a war that had gone on for fifteen long years. Since the day you were six and truly felt that hatred tear through your tiny heart for the first time, the two of you had been in a constant game of cat and mouse.

Jay was going to a sold-out movie with his friends? You used a burner email to tell him his purchase hadn't gone through, and that his card was frozen due to fraudulent activity.

Jay was going to a restaurant with his friends? You called the owner, posing as another restaurant owner, to kindly inform him of a man named Jay that would send back countless meals till he had hundreds of dollars worth of food for free.

These methods may have been on the more cruel side, but Jay never took a blow silently. No, Jay would strike back with even more force, it seems.

Jay had once catfished a very popular BELIFT University student athelete as you and proceeded to make the entire baseball team hate you.

Jay had also posted your phone number on numerous social media platforms, telling the world to call the number for ridiculously cheap resale tickets to a concert.

Although everyone watching this game considered it a prank war, you knew it was so much more. Everyone else looking from the outside in only saw your plans blow up in Jay's face, or vice versa.

Only you could see the hatred in Jay's eyes when he looked at you. You'd catch him glaring at you during the day, his once dark brown eyes glowing with the fire burning behind his pupils. You could see the scowl he'd bite back when you passed him on campus, almost as if it pained him to just be near you.

Likewise, only Jay was able to interpret the evil behind your burning stares. Only Jay was able to feel the goosebumps forming on his arms from the slick of your slimy, fake, forced smiles. The only time he'd ever seen you genuinely smile since first grade was when he ate shit, and you knew that.

Jay's shadow loomed over your body. "Y/N, can we talk?"

You smiled at him. "Sure, Jay, what's up?" You cheerily harped.

He took one look at you before rolling his eyes, tongue pushing against his cheek. "Don't give me that happy-go-lucky shit," Jay scoffed and shook his head. His hand raked through his dark hair. "I know you're hiding your cocky ass smirk behind that smile."

"Oh, but, Jay," You slightly dropped your smile, "I'm extremely happy at the moment. I feel as though I've accomplished a life goal, y'know?"

His stare turned from angry to furious.

Jay was now standing in front of you, his phone shoved into your face. "Explain what the fuck this is," he growled. Before you was the exact photo you'd stolen from his mom's old Facebook, and your ultimate trump card.

"Jay!" You feigned bashfulness. "I didn't think we knew each other well enough for you to expose yourself to me like this! Oh, my eyes!"

He grew increasingly frustrated with your sarcasm, you could see it. The only thing that gave you close to the same dopamine effect as ruining his day was lighting the very short fuse attached to his time-bomb temper.

Tick.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, can you be goddamn serious for once? This is too fucking far!" Jay shouted, turning the heads of bystanders.

You cocked a brow, mirroring his own habit. "Your own mom posted that photo, Jay. Anyone could already see it. I just brought it to the crowd you knew," you shrugged.

He looked up to the sky and let out a dark, gutteral laugh. "My God. My fucking God," he mumbled. "You're so insufferable, fuck! You do this shit all the time, and for what? To make my day worse? Do you get off to making everyone else miserable?"

"I don't make everyone else miserable. Just you."

Tick.

By now, numerous people had gathered with their phones in their hands. Most were recording, you figured.

"No, Y/N! You make everyone's lives suck. You and this petty bullshit you pull daily, nobody fucking likes it. Nobody likes you, Y/N," Jay pointed at her with his index finger, his phone long forgotten in the other hand.

You stood up, closing the distance further between the two of you. Your noses could almost touch if you leaned in.

You scoffed at him this time. "Oh, please, Jay. You're so obsessed with me, it's like you're in love with me or something"

Boom.

Jay looked at you with a glare that could melt metal. If looks could kill, the entire country would have become an entire crater that that instant.

"I wish your old friends would've bullied you worse, maybe then you wouldn't have become the aggravating piece of shit you are now."

You were physically taken aback. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes lost their iron-hot touch. You brought your hand to your mouth in shock.

The crowd around you murmered. "Did he really just say that?" One girl whispered behind you.

Jay's own look shifted from anger to guilt as the weight of his own words hit him.

"I didn't mean that," he quickly said. "I am so sorry, I didn't-"

You smiled back at him. "No, Jay, I get it. I really do," you backed away. "I started it. I- I crossed the line first, I get it."

Jay went to apologize again, but you walked away before he could. Jay could only look at the ground in a mixture of shock and shame as you walked away, swallowing your nausea and pain back down into the depths of your body.

notes: yea jay and y/n def said some stuff they can't take back 😭

BACK | MASTERLIST | NEXT

tags: @deobitifull @eladandan @rikakhairana-blog @igotkkaebsonged

[daisyducklover2021]

Who can ride Big Muddy the Longest?

[arealphrooblem]

Okay so if you’re doing requests and this looks enjoyable enough to do ( no pressure if you don’t want to I get it) a villain x hero where they’re fighting and hero gets pushed into the water and villian is about to leave but hero can’t swim. So villain is like there’s no way I’m gonna let them die as stupidly as drowning I need to kill them properly and saves them but with a lot of romantic? tension (I’m such a pathetic loser for hero x villian) hope this makes sense lmfao (perhaps hero has a fear of water and is shaking really badly and villian is like hugging and petting them because they feel bad cause they’ve never seen hero so distressed)

Not sure if this is exactly what you pictured but I had fun!

warnings: drowning, near death experience

"Well well well, if it isn't a little mouse caught in my trap."

He had waited before making his entrance, watching the hero struggle to stay upright, clinging to his own feet until his strength left him and he fell back upside down. 

His footsteps echoed in the chamber as he stepped further inside. The hero dangled on a rope over a deep pool of water, hands tied behind his back. Villain crouched down and sloshed the water a bit, as if rinsing something from his gloves. 

"Or perhaps a worm wriggling on a hook would be a more apt comparison."

The hero glared, though the feathery hair hanging over his face like a sheepdog rather killed the intimidation factor. 

"What do you want this time?" he said. "Are you planning some kind of heist? Is there some kind of council of evil-doers you don't want me to mess up?"

The Villain laughed. "You know I don't play well with others. No, I was excavating the cave system here and found, to my delight, an underground lake. It's very deep and very inspiring for a new trap. Which, naturally, you walked right into."

"So you're just using me as a guinea pig?" the hero asked flatly. 

Villain dipped another finger back in the water, swirling it around to watch the ripples skitter across the murky depths. "I was thinking of putting in piranhas. An anaconda perhaps? Catfish big enough to swallow you whole."

"You know that kind of thing only works in the movies, right?"

"I could make it work," said the Villain absently, mind already racing turning the logistics of it.

He faintly registered the sound of creaking rope as the Hero struggled, but was too lost in his own thoughts to pay it much attention. He only registered the scraping sound of boots against stone before the fist of the hero came swinging into view. 

Villain dodged just in time, the hero's woozy balance from his time spent upside down the only advantage Villain had.  

"Next time keep a better eye on your prisoner," the Hero said, cocky grin on his face.  

Villain rolled back up to his feet and kicked the hero square in the chest.

The hero fell back into the water, the splash washing up against the Villain's boots. 

And then he disappeared. Villain waited for a few seconds. 

"There's no point in trying to find an exit," he cried down to the water. "You'll drown before you find your way out."

Nothing. Then, abruptly, the Hero's face broke through the surface long enough to take a strangled gasp of air before sinking back down again. 

That was when it finally clicked for Villain -- the Hero was drowning. Right now. He wasted a few more precious seconds, gripped by horrified paralysis, before shucking off his cape and diving into the pool. 

For a horrible moment Villain became disoriented -- the same murky darkness was both above and below, the surface incomprehensible. This was a horrible idea -- this was a horrible, stupid idea and now Villain was going to drown right along side Hero and for what? For this irritating need for his attention? For the way he --

A flailing limb caught Villain in the ribs, knocking some much needed sense into him. He wrapped his arms around the Hero's body and began to kick his way upward. (Or what he would pray was upward -- if he was the praying type). 

Just as his lungs burned with the desperate need for air, they broke the surface. Villain coughed and spluttered as he dragged the two of them further up the ground. Hero stayed dangerously silent. 

"Hero?" 

Villain shook him, but the Hero remained unresponsive. He slapped the hero's cheek a few times and then leaned down close his mouth.

No breathing.

Icy dread coiled in the Villain's gut. The past kicked in, training that he hadn't used in years taking over his body. Villain started CPR, the steps carried out on autopilot.

Like riding a bicycle.

Eventually the hero gasped, deep and desperate. Water splattered on the stone as he turned and coughed. Relief made Villain dizzy, like a drug, like a hit of oxygen after asphyxiation.

And then the anger set in.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

The hero didn't answer. He leaned his forehead against the solid ground, breathing shakily.

"Can you not swim?"

How long had Villain left him suspended over that pool? And yet the hero had never flinched, never lost his cool, despite death only a few feet away. It only fueled Villain's anger. What if the rope had been faulty? What if the Hero had lost his balance when he escaped his bonds?

Villain shoved the hero on his back and straddled him, his fingers digging into the other man's soaked shirt.

"How the fuck do you not know how to swim?!" he snarled

The Hero shook his head, one hand clutching at the Villain's. Not to tear away, not to struggle out of the Villain's hold. Just clinging to it. His fingers shook.

In fact, the Villain could feel the Hero's entire body tremble beneath him. Of course -- the cave was cold, the underground lake even more so. But that didn't explain the labored breathing, the eyes squeezed tight, the fingers holding tightly to Villain's hand.

Villain knew fear when he saw it. He dealt in it, his favorite currency. Whatever bravado the Hero had earlier had left him entirely. All that remained was the pit deep terror that only a near-death experience or severe phobia could bring.

It looked wrong on Hero.

"Hey." Villain cleared his throat. "Look at me." He shook the Hero, more gently, until the other man cracked open his eyes. "You're alright. You're on solid ground again. You're safe --"

The hero snorted.

"Well  -- safe for now," the Villain amended.  He had so much more experience with creating fear than abolishing it. 

"Until you find some other way to try to murder me," the hero said. 

"You can't pin this one on me," the Villain argued. "I didn't know you were an idiot who couldn't swim."

The Hero's brow furrowed. "Why did you save me? You had the perfect opportunity to finally get rid of me."

"I don't want to get rid of you," Villain hissed before he could filter it. 

He froze at the unexpected confession and the Hero cocked his head to the side, eyes alight, fear forgotten. 

"Oh?" he said. 

"I want to -- destroy you," the Villain amended. "Publicly. So that no one could ever doubt my prowess over yours. There are no witnesses here."

The Hero had the audacity to smirk. "Is that why you kissed me?"

The Villain threw the Hero back down in disgust. "I didn't kiss you -- I performed CPR you absolute buffoon."

"To save my life. Like a Hero."

The triumph in Hero's face was unbearable. Villain stood up, brushing dirt from his clothes, trying to ignore the strange fluttering in his stomach. 

"Go home," he said. "We're done here. I trust you can find your own way out. You've done so enough times."

He headed towards the secret elevator, not daring to turn around and look at the Hero still laying on the ground for fear of revealing his red-tipped ears, the flush on his cheeks. 

Ridiculous. 

He only heard the hero call out once, just before the elevator doors closed.

"Maybe next time you should kiss me." Part 2 here

[theprettynosferatu]

Author's note: this story is perhaps not what you expect to read here. I would humbly ask that you read it anyway. It was commissioned for a purpose beyond kink, and I sincerely hope it illustrates an often unseen struggle many deal with.

The isolation was the worst part. Of course, to most people it was invisible and certainly in no way worse than the constant, inevitable loss of mobility and autonomy the illness had provoked and would continue worsening; that was all painful indeed but in the end the loneliness hurt in a different way. The disease was degenerative, and he had come to terms with that somehow. It was an inevitability. That sort of barrier others put up… that wasn’t unavoidable. That was a choice they made. 

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for those around him. They helped him with the things he couldn’t do, which were sadly a growing list, and they tried not to let that particular mixture of annoyance and pity show through their politeness, but he could feel it nonetheless. It wasn’t too much to ask, he felt, to be seen as a person rather than an inventory of symptoms. To be truly listened to. To be accepted as a man, with all the needs any human had.

Who could he speak to? Not his family, that was for sure. And it wasn’t as if he could go to bars or casually peruse Tinder. Even if he wanted to lie to someone, which he didn’t, the truth would be evident as soon as they saw him. He had tried being honest, being upfront about his illness, and that had shown him a new kind of solitude. People simply didn’t want to deal with the realities of someone with his condition, and the few that had matched with him only seemed to be morbidly curious or obvious scammers. He wasn’t too proud to admit that, in his desperation, he had fallen for a catfish once. It was humiliating, but he felt it spoke more about the others in the world than himself. He didn’t choose to be ill; they chose to take advantage of him. Of course, all the moral superiority in the world didn’t make the lies hurt any less.

It felt like stones on his chest, slowly crushing him. Every rejection added another one, some small, some large, the addition gradually pushing him down deeper and deeper. For some reason, sex workers hurt the most of all. It was, by nature, a transactional relationship. He wasn’t asking for a lifelong companion, for love, for anything other than what everyone else hired a sex worker for; and still not one had dared to take him on as a client. Some turned him down outright; some took the booking fee and never showed up. The first group he couldn’t bring himself to really hate. They were scared, unsure of what to do or how to do it, not willing to take on a job that would be, for them, new and unexplored; not when they could make the same money spending that time with their usual, almost rote services. It was understandable. It hurt, but he could see where they came from. 

He still tried. In his mind, only a sex worker could give him at least a moment of intimacy, the contact most people took for granted and often appreciated so little. Even looking online for them was a huge effort. His hands had lost the needed precision to tap on a phone or type on a keyboard, and so he had to use a mouse and a virtual keyboard to, letter by letter, write any questions or searches. What most did without thinking, while chatting away with their friends, was something he had to put all his energy into. He looked at the girls in the escort site not allowing himself to get overly excited about any of them in particular. Eventually he decided to try with a beautiful sex worker. She had copper hair with a bright blue streak, a nose ring and tattoos. She was certainly sexy, but it wasn’t her figure what called to him: it was her eyes. They had a certain kindness and joy to them, at least in her pictures. He didn’t expect much: he was far too experienced to get excited. But he had to try.

He pasted his introduction text. It was a long one, and it had taken him hours and hours to type with a mouse, correct it, make sure it was completely honest, thorough, direct and clear. He wasn’t sure he would be able to write something like that again, emotionally. So he kept it in a file, and copied it whenever he tried to hire a sex worker. Most didn’t reply. This girl, Melissa, did.

It was rather strange. She seemed cheery and polite, and her only questions had to do with his availability, where they would meet, what time was good for him. Not one mention of the illness so detailed in his text, not one question about his body. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, and he half expected her to hit him with a request for a booking fee. Instead, she simply promised to show up in two days. No fee, no deposit. Nothing. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Had she not read the text? In any case, he tried not to get his hopes up. Sure, he would be ready at the appointed date, but he wouldn’t count on her presence.  

When the day came, he tried to keep his excitement in check, to lessen potential disappointment. It was a bit terrible that he had learned to dampen good emotions to protect himself, but it was the natural result of his experiences. In a way, he was more prepared for her absence than her presence, and so when she was let into the room, he struggled for a moment, as if the universe had somehow malfunctioned and now he had to deal with a being from some other, better reality.

She didn’t quite look like the photographs. Oh, she did have beautiful eyes, a long slender neck, a sexy nose ring and breasts that her t-shirt couldn’t hide; what the picture didn’t show, could not have shown, was her expression of sheer… joy. She looked at him, and for the first time in a long time he felt… seen. Seen as he was. She wasn’t looking around him or through him, she wasn’t seeing just the illness, she wasn’t measuring her response or trying to hide pity or fear. She was simply… smiling at him. Part of him wanted to cry, just for a moment, and somehow he was sure she wouldn’t think any less of him if he did. She left her bag on a chair, making herself perfectly at home.

“Hi! I’m Melissa! Nice to meet you!”

Nice to meet you. As normal a greeting as they came, and yet… not a hint of artifice, no rehearsed tone. For her it was, indeed, nice to meet him. He mumbled a greeting of his own, although he couldn’t be quite sure what it was. He was flustered, which wasn’t an emotion he had prepared for. She walked to him and asked a simple, sincere question.

“May I hug you?”

“Uhm… sure”

“Thank you!”

The first thing he noticed was the smell. She wasn’t soaked in perfume. She just smelled nice, in a very simple, human way. It was a strange thing, almost like a subtle, powerful intimacy that needed no words, no explanation. It was primal and basic and almost overwhelming. Then he registered the warmth, the closeness. For a moment the room faded away into nothingness, and in a way so did he. It was lightness and safety and he drifted away into that embrace that told him more than a million words could. It told him he was cared for, he was appreciated, he was valued. It made “I” feel far away, replaced by a silent “us”, if only for a while.

He needed a moment to regroup. She didn’t mind waiting. 

“So… the money is on the table”

She seemed surprised, as if she had forgotten her own profession.

“Oh! Thank you. I don’t charge for hugs, though”, she winked. “I’m just… a hugger, you know? But I’m guessing you want to get to the fun things I do charge for”, she smiled devilishly. “You might need to guide me a little bit so I can make this as… memorable as I can. In any case, I’m going to go ahead and assume you don’t want to just see me in my jeans and t-shirt, am I right?”

“Uh, well, you can change in the bathroom…”

“I could if you prefer. But you’d be missing out! I did practice my… well, reveal, quite a bit”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I… nevermind, please, go ahead”

Melissa smiled, truly happy about being able to share a bit of well-rehearsed strip-teasing. Her body moved with enticing grace, and her playful eyes kept his gaze fixed on her, on her skin, on her every curve. She teased and provoked with the easy mastery of the truly talented, and he wondered for a moment if she had been a dancer in another life. Soon the T-shirt and jeans were gone, replaced by a silk three-piece lingerie set, its black fabric hugging her body tight, the contrast between light and dark, seen and unseen heightening her allure. And he had to admit to himself that as good as her breasts looked covered up, the bra revealed a size he had not imagined. Everything about her called to him, wanted him, needed him. Except… he didn’t quite know what to do, or how to express… what? What was it he wanted? He wasn’t sure he could put it into words anymore. It was about sex, and it wasn’t. It was sex and… something more, beyond language.

Luckily, she came to him and kissed his cheek playfully. Her breath on his ear sent a shiver down his spine and he wished he could just… leap up and hold her, take her… 

“Hey. Relax. You tell me how you want this to go, and you can tell me if I’m doing things right for you, okay? We’ll take it at your pace”

There wasn’t a hint of pity in her voice. It was a simple, practical matter: she wanted to please him, and would do whatever he felt he needed. Before he could speak, her lips were kissing his chest, undoing his shirt. The warmth of her lips, her hands, her breasts on his skin was enough to make him desperately aroused and… strangely at peace. She made him feel safe. Seen. Desired.

“Oh, looks like someone here likes my moves!” she teased, brushing her hand against the fabric that covered his now stiff cock. Normally an erection was something that took him a bit of time to achieve, but it didn’t seem to be a problem at that moment. Perhaps it was that she was blowing away years of fear and overthinking and pain with simple kisses and caresses, with smiles and playfulness that created a bubble away from the world, a place where nothing existed but the two of them, their bodies, their wants.

“I think I should kiss it”, she winked. He could only nod in agreement.

He wasn’t sure how he expected it to feel, but he couldn’t have imagined the wonderful sensations coursing through his body. It wasn’t like masturbation, which was his one frame of reference: not having control over where she kissed, she licked, how much pressure she put on it… every moment was a surprise, a brand new feeling that electrified him, reverberating all over until it even felt like a tickle on the roof of his mouth. He could hear her softly moaning, and she made sure to move and give him a smile every now and then, making sure the experience was what he wanted… and gauging how close he might be getting to cumming. They had agreed beforehand on the services to be rendered, and she wasn’t about to shortchange him.

“I see you liked that! Well, are you ready to feel even better?”

A small “yes” barely escaped his throat. 

“Good”, she smiled. “Because I’m soaking wet and I need a little bit of… relief. And I think you could use some as well”

He felt like the room was spinning. She had taken off the lingerie at some point, although he couldn’t say exactly when, and now she was climbing carefully on top of him. She was so warm and soft and he wondered how a person could just… feel so different on his skin than anything else in the world. There was a strange form of contact, a communication without words, a deep sense of togetherness expressed in caresses and kisses and subtle movements. Her hazel eyes met his, and he didn’t need to tell her he was ready. She knew. She reached down to put his cock in position and slowly he felt a great warmth wrapping him, a gentle tightness. Her moans filled the air around them as she slowly, deliberately started to move: not because she was being careful or seeing him as fragile, but because it was simply the way she liked it.

It was a revelation of sorts. For so long, his body had been the source of pain and anguish and stress and despair. Yet then, for a moment, his body was transformed into something else. An object of pleasure, that could sense it and provoke it at once, that could, with her, turn into more than it had ever been. No, that wasn’t quite right. His body hadn’t changed. His perception of it had.

He had imagined his attention would be on his penis, and yet now that the moment had come he couldn’t just focus on one part of his body. It was all one: her hands on his chest, her kisses on his neck, her skin on his, a sonata of sensation and intimacy and movement and shared whimpers and moans.

It happened suddenly. It came from somewhere deep, a sensation building in his shaft, his muscles tensing up in a way he had never felt before. For a moment he felt as if his breath was taken away. The world stopped for a second. Then it exploded.

It was as if his entire body was one sensitive, beautiful object of pleasure… and so was hers. They trembled together and he thought he could hear her scream, although he couldn’t be sure. It was a wonderful overload, one that ended with her resting her head on his chest, panting.

“Sorry! I get a bit… loud sometimes. I hope I don’t get you in trouble!”

“I… I don’t think… Sorry, I’m just a bit…”

“It’s okay. Want me to stay here a while longer?”

“Yes, please”

So she stayed. Of course, eventually she had to leave, for all things must come to an end. And yet it was an end that wasn’t, for she had given him a seed of something new, a memory and a door. There was a world to explore, and he knew she would help him explore it. 

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[zodiactalks]

These Zodiac Signs get Really SCARY when MAD

It isn’t fun to be on the opposite side of someone’s anger. It feels awful to be the target of a friend or family's ire. Even a stranger can cause people to shrink if they are sensitive.

It can be easy to brush off certain people when they are mad. They are all bark and no bite. Then there are the ones who will take action on their anger.

There are a couple of zodiac signs who are downright terrifying when they are truly angry. Don’t make them mad, you don’t want to be the focus of their anger.

Let’s take a look at the zodiac signs who get really scary when they are mad.

#1. Capricorn

Capricorn is known for their vindictive nature when they are wronged. 

It can take a while for Capricorn to truly reach their limit and become wrathful. But when they do, they are out for revenge. 

All bets are off the table and Capricorn will get as low as they have to, to get back at someone. If harsh words had no effect, they can find themselves turning toward sabotage.

It could be they are catfishing the person online or spreading rumors to ruin their reputation. Capricorn wants to see the person's downfall.

If they aren’t first in line to watch the world burn, they won’t feel satisfied with their revenge.

#2. Taurus

Taurus is known for their explosive rage.

Taurus has an extremely long fuse, but everyone has their limits. When Taurus has finally been pushed too far, they can use all of their knowledge of a person to verbally thrash them.

It hurts more than expected because nothing Taurus will throw at them will be a lie. Every single word will hit on the person's deepest insecurities with sharp accuracy. 

Taurus is usually a safe person to talk to about sensitive subjects. But if they are pushed to the point of rage at others, everything ever said to them becomes a weapon. And they are a master of wielding it. 

Now, Taurus doesn’t enjoy having these violent reactions. This is why they take so long to explode. They know they can destroy other people's self-esteem by exposing them. 

But sometimes, someone deserves it. And when they push Taurus too far, they will get what’s coming to them.

#3. Scorpio

Scorpio is known for their unforgiving nature. 

Once someone has wronged Scorpio, it can never be taken back or remedied. What’s done is done, and now Scorpio is an enemy. 

Scorpio has very little patience when it comes to being targeted by others. Passive-aggressive jabs will be met with head-on hostility from Scorpio. They don’t have time or interest in playing behind-the-scenes games with people.

If someone has an issue with Scorpio, they should just say it. Forcing them into a cat and mouse game will not end well. 

Scorpio may decide to get physically violent or scheme revenge plots. It depends on if they decide the source of their anger is worth it or not.

Scorpio can hold grudges from childhood to their grave. 

#4. Cancer

Cancer is known for their hot and cold nature.

It is easy to spot an angry Cancer. They will embody the phrase “like a walking storm.” Everyone around Cancer can feel it.

Whether Cancer is angry at a specific person or a situation, their reaction can be hard to predict. 

One moment they are giving others the cold shoulder, the next they could be flinging an object to the floor because it kept falling over.

It’s not out of the question that they cried out of anger in the bathroom before returning to work. 

It is extremely hard to pick the best way to support an angry Cancer at any given moment. Best to let them know someone has their back and wait for them to come to you.

#5. Sagittarius

Sagittarius is known for their live and let live attitude. Until they are royally done.

Already a blunt person, Sagittarius can use their words as a bludgeon when they want to. It isn’t in their nature to intentionally hurt others. But when they want to, boy, it is effective.

When Sagittarius snaps, they will verbally rip the other person apart. In public. 

It takes a special kind of person to push Sagittarius over the edge. Usually when they’ve been relentlessly targeting a friend of Sagittarius. 

Sagittarius is an extremely protective friend and can become surprisingly scary when they are angered. 

Not only will Sagittarius become verbally anger they will also commit a crime without a second thought if their friend asks. 

Sagittarius isn’t all that worried when someone comes at them, but for their friends, they will go to jail.