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#The Pinnacle at Symphony Place

pumperpup · 1 month

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In the whimsical town of Bizarreville, a small, intellectual middle-aged man named Harold lived a quiet life, filled with books and dreams he never pursued. One sunny afternoon, while meandering through the ancient part of town, Harold stumbled upon an old, dusty lamp hidden beneath the roots of a gnarled oak tree. Curiosity piqued, he rubbed the lamp, and to his astonishment, a genie emerged in a puff of smoke, declaring, "Three wishes you have, master!"

Thrilled, Harold's first request was simple yet deeply personal. "I wish for a bushy mustache, for I've never been able to grow one!" he exclaimed. With a poof, a magnificent mustache appeared on his upper lip, bushy and splendid, causing Harold to giggle with delight.

With a glint of desire in his eyes, Harold voiced his second wish. "I desire my body to mirror the pinnacle of masculine perfection, envied by all," he declared with a newfound boldness. The genie, with a flick of his wrist, unleashed a magical energy that enveloped Harold. Initially, his muscles began to swell with an almost liquid grace, each fiber expanding, rippling beneath his skin as if a symphony of physical grandeur played along his very bones.

His arms thickened, veins mapping out new territories as his chest broadened, stretching his shirt to its limits. For a fleeting moment, Harold was the epitome of every bodybuilder's dream, his physique surpassing that of ancient statues dedicated to the gods of old.

Yet, as he flexed, an unease settled within him. This was not the perfection he yearned for. "No, no, this isn't what I meant by perfection." The genie, puzzled but patient, snapped his fingers again, reverting Harold to his original, slender frame.

Acknowledging Harold's dissatisfaction, the genie's hands moved again, this time with a different intent. As Harold focused on a deeper, more intrinsic form of perfection, he felt a peculiar sensation begin at his core. It started as a gentle pull, then grew into a forceful surge. His belly, once flat and unremarkable, began to expand.

This transformation was not rapid but gradual, allowing Harold to savor each moment. The sensation was akin to a balloon being filled, his skin stretching smoothly over the growing expanse. His belly swelled outward, a curve so pronounced and majestic it seemed to defy gravity. It was as if the very essence of creation and abundance was being woven into his form, his body becoming a symbol of fertility and prosperity.

Harold placed his hands on his sides, feeling the warmth and the stretch, marveling at the sheer volume and the softness. The expansion stopped at a point where his belly protruded magnificently, a proud, round dome that spoke of life and the beauty of form in its most nurturing aspect. His shirt, hopelessly outmatched by the girth of his belly, framed this new masterpiece of nature. Harold, with a smile that stretched as wide as his waistline, rubbed his belly with affection and awe. It was a belly that commanded respect, a testament to his unique vision of perfection.

The townsfolk of Bizarreville would long remember the day Harold redefined what it meant to embody perfection. Not with the chiseled features of a Herculean demigod, but with the gentle, embracing curve of his magnificent belly. As he walked home, every step was a testament to his newfound self-acceptance and the unconventional journey of transformation he had embraced. The genie, witnessing this profound appreciation of personal fulfillment, disappeared into the lamp, leaving behind a world a little wider in its understanding of beauty.

#ai muscle #ai generated #ai #ai story #gay muscle men #mpreg kink #mpreg belly #mpreg #mpregnancy #ball belly #bellyinflation #musclegrowth #ai muscle growth #male muscle growth #belly expansion #muscle expansion #muscle inflation

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rubberizer92 · 13 days

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Anthony had spent years dedicated to the pursuit of his ultimate goal: achieving the muscle growth deemed necessary by the authorities of his city. In a world where the Voice reigned supreme, such directives were not merely suggestions but absolute mandates that shaped every aspect of society.

After countless hours of rigorous training and unwavering determination, Anthony finally reached the pinnacle of his physical prowess. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, a testament to his unwavering dedication and discipline. And as he stood before the authorities, he felt a sense of pride wash over him, knowing that he had proven himself worthy of their approval.

But his journey was far from over. Guided by the directives of the Voice, Anthony was led to a secluded chamber where a heavy, black rubber collar awaited him. As it was placed around his neck, he felt a surge of pleasure unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if every nerve in his body had been ignited, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through his veins.

Surrounded by other men clad in tight rubber, their bodies glistening in the dim light, Anthony felt a sense of belonging wash over him. The low hum of their voices mingled with the pulsating rhythm of his own heartbeat, creating a symphony of desire that echoed through the chamber.

In that moment, Anthony knew that he had found his true purpose. As the collar tightened around his neck, binding him to the will of the Voice, he felt a sense of liberation unlike anything he had ever known. Gone were the doubts and fears that had plagued him for so long; in their place was a deep-seated belief in the power of the Voice and its ability to guide him towards a brighter future.

And as he emerged from the chamber, his body thrumming with newfound energy and arousal, Anthony knew that he would never be the same man again. For he had been reborn in the embrace of the rubber, a loyal disciple of the Voice, ready to fulfill whatever destiny awaited him.

#ai generated #rubber #muscles #jock #sexy #ai

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miguelswifey04 · 9 months

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a little prompt for you, an amazing writer : )

shower sex with spider-noir, any scenario up to you!!

yes i love spider-noir so much !! he makes me weak in the knees 🤭.

the water cascaded down your bodies as peter was lathering your body with soap, sensually, soothing your aching body from a long day you just had. you could feel him smirk behind you as he was washing your back with a loofa gently in circles—you could feel his gaze go down your ass but nonetheless you remained oblivious. you were getting a rise out of this. you felt him suddenly press his strong frame against your back as his hand slithered to cup your breasts. you could feel his muscles flex on your back as he whispered into your ear, “don’t think i don’t know you’re getting a rise out of this…let me help darling.” you nodded feeling your entire body heat up and your cheeks heating up. his body felt amazing against yours and you felt impatient as noir teased you as he slightly pinched and rolled his fingers over your hardened buds.

his hands tracing a trail of fire along your wet skin. surrounded by the steam-kissed mist, his touch was a blend of tenderness and raw hunger. he continued to caress your nipples as whimpers and moans slipped out your mouth as you arched your back against him. he was hard already in response to your sweet sounds coming out that pretty mouth of yours. “i’m gonna fuck you, darling, i need you.”

the shower transformed into a sanctuary of passion as spider-noirs strong hands gripped your hips, he pushed his wet cock into your soaking hole, possessively guiding your movements as he fully stretched your walls. your walls clamped onto his cock but adjusting to his size. you warm hole lovingly invited him inside of you. he groaned feeling how wet and tight you were feeling like a warm hug. “fuck—you feel so big,” you mewled out as noir pressed you against the glass shower door. he gripped onto your hair while his other hand held your hips in place, going in and out of you at an ungodly speed.

with each thrust, his need intensified, a primal hunger that fueled the intensity of your union. the steam, acting as a veil, seemed to amplify the sensations coursing through your bodies, heightening the connection between you.

his movements became rougher, his grip tighter, as he lavished you with pleasure. the rhythm of your bodies collided in a symphony of desire, the crescendo building with each frantic thrust, each electrifying stroke. with fervent, animalistic abandon, spider-noir claimed your body as his own, driving you both towards the pinnacle of pleasure. you both came at the same time—letting you come undone a bit first then he followed suit. your cries and his moans filled the steamy hot air of the bathroom.

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #spider noir x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir smut #spider noir x y/n #noir smut #🌱 lin writes

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bodyswappertransforming · 1 month

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As Dario and Alex delved deeper into their exploration of kinks and desires, they discovered a shared fascination with BDSM—a realm where pleasure intertwined with pain, dominance merged with submission, and boundaries were pushed to their limits.

In the privacy of their secluded cabin, they created their own BDSM sanctuary, complete with a collection of implements and toys designed to tantalize the senses and awaken primal urges. Leather cuffs adorned their wrists and ankles, binding them together in a delicious dance of power and surrender.

Dario, emboldened by his newfound confidence, embraced his dominant side with gusto. With each crack of the whip and firm command whispered in Alex's ear, he reveled in the intoxicating rush of control, his desires fueled by the sight of his partner's surrender.

Alex, equally eager to explore his submissive desires, surrendered himself willingly to Dario's touch. Bound and blindfolded, he surrendered to the exquisite torment of sensation, his body a canvas upon which Dario painted his desires with a masterful hand.

Their play sessions became an intricate dance of pleasure and pain, as they explored the depths of their desires with an intensity that left them both breathless. From the gentle caress of silk against skin to the sting of a well-placed flogger, they reveled in the exquisite agony of ecstasy.

But amidst the raw passion and primal urges, there was a deeper connection—a bond forged in the crucible of trust and vulnerability. In the aftermath of their play, they found solace in each other's arms, their love transcending the physical and binding them together in a bond that was as unbreakable as the chains that bound them.

Five years later, Dario and Alex's exploration of their desires had deepened, encompassing new realms of kink and intimacy. Among their favorite indulgences was the intricate art of bondage, where the delicate interplay of power and trust created a symphony of sensation unlike any other.

In the privacy of their cabin, they reveled in the ritual of binding and surrender. Dario, with hands skilled from years of practice, expertly tied intricate knots that held Alex in a web of anticipation and excitement. Each rope, carefully placed and tensioned, became a physical manifestation of their connection—a tangible reminder of the trust that bound them together.

As Dario bound Alex's wrists and ankles, securing him in a delicate dance of restraint, a primal energy surged between them, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity all its own. With each knot tightened, Alex surrendered himself willingly to Dario's touch, his body a canvas upon which his desires were painted in shades of pleasure and pain.

Bound and vulnerable, Alex surrendered himself completely to Dario, trusting him to navigate the fine line between ecstasy and agony. With each touch, each caress, Dario stoked the flames of desire, his hands tracing patterns of sensation that sent shivers down Alex's spine.

In the depths of their shared passion, they lost themselves in the exquisite torment of sensation, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they danced the dance of bondage and submission. And as they reached the pinnacle of their pleasure, bound together in a tangle of limbs and desires, they knew that their love was as unbreakable as the knots that held them fast.

#bodyswap #mental change #fantasy #male body swap #male transformation #personality change #gay #logger #lumberjack

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peterrefur · 5 days

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The days we knew ⅏ Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader

Summary: Wilbur returns from Limbo. Reader reminisces about L'Manberg. Wilbur visits Reader's restaurant, and they recognize each other. Notes: Hey Mate!!! I’m Peter and I say right away that English is not my first language. I’m curious to hear your opinion about this work in the comments! Enjoy!

I am trying to get back to writing after a long break. This story is not the pinnacle of my abilities, but it is the beginning of my return to writing.

𝒲hispers and rumors spread like wildfire about his return from hell. A hell that he referred to as Limbo .

𝒜ccording to tales, this was where every soul must journey after departing from the mortal world, each Limbo tailored to the individual's experiences and memories. Some say his Limbo took the form of an endless underground metro system, with never-ending tunnels and trains that always arrived at the same station no matter how many times he boarded them.

𝐻is screams were said to be so deafeningly loud and relentless that they would echo through the night and linger for weeks, until he inevitably started screaming anew upon waking. Each scream was like a violent eruption from his chest, tearing at his vocal cords until blood filled his throat and spilled from his lips. His cries were like a tortured symphony, haunting and unyielding, they painted a picture of his anguish as a tortured symphony, echoing through the corridors of his mind long after reality had fallen silent. His knuckles, once sturdy bastions of strength, now lay bare, stripped down to the bone by the unyielding assault against the harsh concrete wall. The bones beneath threatened to breach the surface, a grim testament to his unwavering resolve. Deep furrows marred his palms, etched by the relentless barrage, a stark reminder of his unending battle. Deep grooves crisscrossed his palms from the repeated beatings, leaving behind a permanent reminder of his struggles. His nails, once neat and trimmed, were now jagged and torn off in places from desperate attempts to claw his way out. They bent backwards, painfully pulling away from the fleshy tips of his fingers.

𝐹or years, he had drifted in and out of sleep, unsure if he was truly awake or trapped in the never-ending purgatory of Limbo. He had grown accustomed to the unchanging landscape of darkness and despair, where hunger and pain were constant companions. But eventually, he came to the realization that this was an eternal torment - a hell without end. No matter how much he struggled or what he did, death would not release him from this cursed existence. His only escape was to endure and hope for some sort of redemption beyond this bleak realm.

𝒩o respite, no escape - just an unending abyss of torment.

𝒜t least that's what they say in town when Reader goes to get groceries from their quaint little restaurant. They fondly remember the days when their establishment was nestled within the borders of L'Manberg, a place where soldiers sought refuge after grueling battles and found comfort in the hearty soups and flavorful dishes they cooked up. Aromas of savory herbs and spices wafted through the air as customers eagerly awaited their meals, their spirits lifted by the warm atmosphere and delicious food.

The memories flood back to them as they recall the prestigious guests who frequented their restaurant. The elegant President of L'Manburg himself had made special visits for diplomatic meetings, seeking the comfort and privacy of their establishment. And they always made sure to serve him their nationally famous dish - Noodles with meat. The aroma alone was enough to make mouths water - a rich, savory broth simmered for hours, perfectly cooked hand-prepared noodles that they could tell were ready just by the color and texture, tender pieces of pork carefully placed on top. But it wasn't just about the taste - the presentation was just as important. Carrots, chives, and other fresh garnishes adorned the bowl, along with a sprinkling of sesame seeds and a dollop of fiery chili paste for those who dared.

𝒯his dish had become synonymous with significant events in the history of this young country, and the Reader couldn't help but feel proud knowing their humble restaurant played a part in shaping its culture and identity.

A very pleasant past that Reader misses. They remember those times with a smile.

𝐻owever, amidst the comfortable thoughts in their mind, there are also haunting memories of Pogtopia. They can still feel the weight of poverty and fear that shrouded their daily life like a thick fog. The memories of living in the canyon for what seemed like endless months flood back to them. Yet, as they try to recall the time frame, it all becomes a blur, the days and years blending together into one hazy period of turmoil. Such is the impact that time had on their memories of that place.

𝒯he unrelenting grip of poverty, the constant gnawing fear of death, the monotonous routine of preparing potatoes day after day. They had so many potatoes that they ate them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, struggling to find new ways to cook them - boiled, roasted over a fire, mashed into a purée.

𝐵ut in the end, they always seemed to give up and serve them simply boiled. The bland aroma of boiling water filled their small ravine 'kitchen', as they resigned themselves to yet another meal of plain potatoes.

𝐼t was a reminder of their meager existence, a symbol of their struggle to survive.

𝒟espite not having a large customer base, they relish every opportunity to cook for someone and bring joy to their day. The thought of someone not having to worry about food at home and being able to come to them for a satisfying meal fills there with a sense of purpose. For a small fee, they serve up bowls of steaming noodles or simple dishes that they customize to each person's liking. The aroma of herbs and spices wafts through the air, enticing passersby to stop and sample their cooking. Their humble kitchen is filled with warmth and welcoming energy, creating a haven for anyone in need of a comforting meal.

As they enter the kitchen, their arms laden with fresh produce, they quickly tie a crisp white apron around their hips. They waste no time in placing the vegetables on the counter and rinsing them under a steady stream of cool water. With practiced efficiency, they pull out a large mixing bowl and various containers to store the ingredients. The cutting board is carefully wiped down, its surface gleaming beneath the bright kitchen lights. They run a hand over its smooth surface before grabbing their sharp knife and getting to work.

𝒲ith a practiced hand, they reach for their favorite knife, its blade catching the sunlight and gleaming as they slice through the ripe tomato with precise movements. The crisp skin gives way easily and the sweet scent of the fruit fills the air as they carefully carve an even chunk and place it into the container. Moving on to the cucumbers, they expertly cut them into perfect strips, each one identical to the next, before adding them to the growing collection of vegetables in the container. Each ingredient is selected with care, from the vibrant red peppers to the deep green kale leaves and bright orange carrots. Finally, they add to earthy mushrooms their spongy texture completing the colorful array of ingredients that will soon become their customers' daily dishes. As they work, a sense of pride and satisfaction fills their heart, knowing that these fresh and carefully prepared vegetables will bring joy and nourishment to those who eat them.

𝒲ith the grace and ease of someone who has spent years perfecting their craft, they carefully wash their sharp knife before deftly cutting into the succulent meat. Every slice is deliberate and precise as they expertly remove any unwanted bones and gristle. The stray cat that frequents their restaurant in the evening is the only customer who doesn't have to pay, so they always set out a small plate for it in appreciation. It's become a familiar routine, just like the comforting scent of freshly cooked meat that lingers in the air of their cozy establishment.

𝒜s the ten o'clock hour strikes, Reader interrupts their preparations and goes to the front door and pulls down the wooden covers that protect their glass window, with a sign that Tommy, one of the former members of L'Manberg, painted a few years ago. Reader opens the door wide and lets fresh air into the small room, which seats less than ten people.

𝒜s the clock strikes ten, Reader pauses their preparations and strides to the front door with determination. They slide down the wooden covers that protect their glass window, adorned with a hand-painted sign by Tommy, one of the former members of L'Manberg. The aged paint peeling off reveals glimpses of vibrant colors from years past. With a firm grip, Reader pulls open the door, allowing a gust of cool air to sweep inside the small room. A cozy space, barely enough to seat ten people comfortably. The scent of fresh air intermingles with the comforting aroma of food and freshly brewed tea.

𝒯heir days pass, every so often consumed by thoughts and doubts of the rumors swirling about the resurrection of L'Manburg's President. Memories flood her mind- of the ravine where he had stood, surrounded by his people, pleading for them to stop calling him President. They remember the look of despair and desperation on his face, a stark contrast to the once hopeful and confident leader he used to be. The transformation he underwent is etched in their mind, from a man filled with eager ambition and hope to one broken and desolate by the loss of his country. It's a haunting image that lingers in their thoughts, a poignant reminder of what once was and what could have been. As they reflect on these memories, they can't help but feel a sense of sadness and disillusionment for the fallen leader and his shattered dreams.

—

𝒜s the time for cleaning up arrived, Reader moved with swift and precise efficiency. Their movements were like a choreographed dance, each step executed with perfect control and purpose. Without a moment of hesitation or uncertainty, they sorted through the items on the table, placing them carefully on the cat's plate or in the rubbish bin. It was as if they had been programmed for this task, carrying it out flawlessly like a well-oiled machine. The clink of dishes and rustling of paper filled the air as Reader worked, their focused expression never faltering. They were masters at their craft, turning chaos into order with each calculated movement. With a sense of accomplishment, Reader stepped back from the neatly organized items in front of them. Their duties were complete, each task executed with precision and attention to detail. A satisfying feeling of completion washed over there, leaving a smile on their face as they surveyed their flawless work. It was as if each item had found its rightful place, creating a symphony of order and efficiency.

𝒲ith a poised and graceful step, the owners of the charming restaurant emerged from their kitchen, their faces glowing with a warm smile. In one hand, they carried a delicate plate, its contents arranged in an artful display that could rival any high-end eatery. The scent of spices and herbs wafted through the crisp autumn air, drawing in any nearby feline companions. Each carefully selected ingredient had been placed with precision, creating a feast not only for the senses but also for the palate of any fortunate cat.

As they walked towards their favorite spot outside the restaurant, a small cat curled up under their legs and wrapped its tail around their thighs in grateful contentment. It was clear that this furry companion held a special place in their heart for providing it with nourishment every evening.

𝒯he frigid and forbidding darkness of the night hung heavy, engulfing everything in its path. The cold air prickled at their skin, heightening their senses as they gazed upon the lone figure standing in front of their restaurant. His silhouette loomed large against the dimly lit street, casting a daunting shadow that seemed to swallow up everything around it. The glowing moon above served as a watchful guardian, its silvery light bathing his features in an eerie glow. His intense gaze locked theirs, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood alone in this deserted city.

𝐻is voice cut through the silence, sharp and forceful. "Are you open?" he demanded, his words like shards of ice in the stillness of the night.

The man's appearance is strikingly unkempt, emitting an aura of poverty and potential homelessness. His hair, a mass of shoulder-length brown curls, appears tangled and greasy, with strands protruding in all directions. Among the chaos, a solitary white strand stands out conspicuously, almost luminous against the disorder. It's as if he's aged a decade overnight. His eyes, bloodshot and encircled by a rim of red, convey a sense of sleeplessness that spans days. The profound, dark circles beneath his eyes surpass any exhaustion I've witnessed, even among the most fatigued hybrids or humans.

𝐻e dons a tattered yellow jumper, its fabric worn thin and punctuated by tears. Draping loosely over his shoulders, a patched coat, once a lively brown, now bears the weight of dirt and grime, concealing any semblance of its former vibrancy. Wrapped around his arm, a bandage, tainted with a red hue, poses a mystery—blood or perhaps wine? Despite the neglect evident in his attire, one detail stands out: his trousers, meticulously pressed, hint at a pride in appearance amidst adversity. Yet, they're juxtaposed with scuffed and grimy shoes, evidence of a journey endured with little regard for appearance.

"Unfortunately, it has just closed," Reader says with a warm smile, their gesture directed towards the now darkened restaurant front. "But fear not, for I will be open again at 10 tomorrow morning." As they speak, they absent-mindedly pet the purring cat perched on the counter, savoring its meal of freshly prepared food. "The only customer being served now is this cat. You don't look like a cat, I'm sorry," they add, their hands gently stroking the animal as it enjoys its feast.

At this, the man chuckles and responds, "I may not look like a cat, but I wouldn't mind meowing or snuggling up to your leg if it means getting some of that delicious food," he laughs. "I wish I could help you," Reader says with a chuckle, "But I'm afraid my only clients after hours are of the feline persuasion."

𝒯he man's hearty laughter echoed through the street, blending in with the soft purring of the cat. The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced by an ease that felt strange but also comforting. "Fair enough," he said, smiling at the Reader. "I think I'll have to find another place then." "Just down the road there's an all-night dinner," they offered. They pointed towards the end of the street where a neon sign flickered intermittently. "They should still have something warm for you." "Thanks," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. He turned to leave before hesitating and turning back towards Reader "Do you remember cooking noodles with meat in L'Manberg?"

𝑅eader paused, a flicker of surprise passing across their face. Their eyes, which had been warm and inviting, cooled as they studied the man before there. "Why would you ask me that?" they said, their voices betraying a touch of guarded curiosity.

The man gave a rueful smile. "It's a memory I've carried for years," he admitted with an odd sort of vulnerability, his gaze never leaving their face. "A chef who cooked the most delicious noodles with meat in L'Manberg." Their faces softened as they listened to him, their initial wariness fading into curiosity. "That was a long time ago," they finally said, more to themselves than to him. He nodded slowly. "Yes, it was," he conceded. "But for some reason, those noodles have always stuck with me. I suppose...I've been looking for them ever since."

𝒜 silence descended upon them then, as they each absorbed what had been said - and perhaps what hadn't been said too. The cat finished its meal and hopped off the counter, brushing against Reader's leg before slipping out into the night. "Have we met?" Reader said finally. Their voices were soft but resolute. "Yeah..." he says and puts his hands in his pockets "I'm the one who let you open the restaurant and was the first to eat those noodles." says the man, at which Reader takes two steps backwards and only now in the man does they recognize the former President of L'Manburg.

"Mr President..." whispers Reader.

The man's expression softened at their recognition, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his eyes. "Please, just call me Wilbur," he said, his voice carrying a note of sincerity. Reader's mind raced with memories of their time together in L'Manburg, the moments of camaraderie and hardship they had shared. They couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion at the sight of him standing before them, a stark reminder of the past they had tried so hard to leave behind. "I never thought I'd see you again," they admitted, their voices barely above a whisper. "Not after everything that happened."

𝒲ilbur's face took on a serious expression; his eyes seemed to be searching the ground for answers. "I understand," he spoke in a hushed tone. "Being brought back to life is just as shocking for me as it is for others.”

Reader paused, gazing at their small restaurant with its quaint decor. "If you'd like, Mr. President - Wilbur, I believe I can whip up some delicious noodles with savory meat for you. However, it may take a bit of time." A small, genuine smile graced Wilbur's lips at Reader's kind offer, the corners of his mouth turning up as if pulled by invisible strings. "I would be delighted," his bright brown eyes shone with gratitude, reflecting the warmth in his voice as he replied, a hint of nostalgia woven into his words.

𝒲ith a graceful sweep, Reader disappeared into the kitchen to prepare their meal. Wilbur followed, sinking into a plush chair at one of the empty tables. His mind wandered back to the days when L'Manburg was a bustling nation, overflowing with life and possibility. Memories rushed in like a powerful river, each one bringing a flutter of nostalgia and longing as he waited patiently for the mouth-watering aroma of food to permeate the air once more. He could almost taste the rich flavors and feel the warmth radiating from the kitchen as Reader worked their magic.

𝒯he kitchen was alive with a symphony of sounds, as Reader moved with dancer-like grace and purpose. The clinking of pots and pans echoed through the air, each utensil playing its own instrumental part in the culinary orchestra. The scent of simmering broth, infused with aromatic spices, filled Wilbur's senses, wrapping him in a warm and comforting embrace that made his stomach growl with anticipation. It was like being enveloped in a cloud of savory goodness, beckoning him closer to the source of its alluring aroma. After spending years in the desolate realm of Limbo without any sustenance, the mere scent of these noodles sent a wave of hunger crashing over him. He could practically taste the savory broth and chewy strands as if they were right in front of him. The aroma was so enticing, he felt like he could devour liters of it without hesitation.

𝒜s Reader emerged from the warm, bustling kitchen with a steaming bowl of noodles in hand, Wilbur's eyes met theirs with a mixture of admiration and longing. The aroma of savory broth and freshly cooked noodles wafted through the air, enticing his senses. As he took the first bite, the flavors exploded on his palate, each mouthful a symphony of tastes that transported him back to simpler times. With every swallow, he could taste the heart and soul that Reader had poured into the dish. "You have truly outdone yourself," Wilbur exclaimed between bites, his eyes never leaving Reader's face as if trying to convey his gratitude and appreciation through their locked gaze.

𝒯he words hung heavy in the air, thick with disbelief and awe. "I was at your funeral," Reader's voice trembled as they took a seat in the chair next to Wilbur. "And now I'm serving you noodles." The steam from the hot meal rose and mingled with their breath, a surreal scene unfolding before them. "You really have been revived," Reader marveled at the miracle of Wilbur's return from death. "Believe me, you're not the only one having trouble adjusting to this." Wilbur says between mouthfuls of steaming noodles. He pauses to take a deep breath, then continues with a tinge of gratitude in his voice, "But thanks to my hero I am back alive. Dream." He lifts his bowl up in a gesture of gratitude towards Dream, who is now behind bars in prison. Reader can sense the tension and unease between Wilbur and Dream.

𝐼t's clear that something has changed between them, something that Reader doesn't quite understand or enjoy witnessing.

𝒯he word fell from Reader's lips with a bitter tone, carrying with it the weight of past struggles and disappointments. The mere mention of "Dream" conjured up a flood of negative memories - the root cause of L'Manberg's seemingly endless problems. "Dream? Eh, Wasn't he perhaps enemy number one in L'Manberg?” Reader asks.

𝒲ilbur's gaze darkened at the mention of Dream's name, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Yes, he was," Wilbur admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and betrayal. "But he was also the one who brought me back from the Limbo." The conflicting emotions within Wilbur were evident in his tense posture and furrowed brow. Reader could sense the turmoil bubbling beneath the surface, the unresolved issues and complicated history between Wilbur and Dream hanging heavily in the air. "I know it's hard to understand," Wilbur continued, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of sadness. "But things are never as black and white as they seem, especially in a place like L'Manberg." He took another bite of noodles, the warmth of the broth offering a momentary distraction from the weight of their conversation.

𝑅eader watched Wilbur closely, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together in their minds. Despite the tension between them, Reader couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Wilbur. The weight of expectations and responsibilities had taken its toll on him, leaving behind scars that ran deep.

𝑅eader smiles and refills the broth in Wilbur's noodles.

"It's good to have you back."

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #mcyt wilbur #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot #wilbur x you #wilbur post #wilbur soot x y/n #Reader #revivebur x Reader #revivebur x you #mcyt x Reader #revivebur fic #revivebur

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blizzardsuplex · 5 months

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hi mel :)

playlist: event horizon

Hey Sledge!! An event horizon is a point of no return, right? But also specifically refers to black holes, so have a short playlist about both (hopefully)! Explanations under the cut. Listen in order por favor ;)

The Air Conditioned Nightmare (Mr. Bungle) -> Imagine this as the abstract opening credits. Inside of me today/there is no one/only asteroids and empty space.

The Gates (Aesop Rock) -> The spaceship stands just before the event horizon. I was at the gates...

Atomized (Andrew Bird) -> They go in and get, y'know, atomized. But how much of that was the work of the black hole and how much was the fact they went their on their fancy pinnacle of technology spaceship in the first place? So now you're atomized unwhole.

Cafe D'Athens (Foals) -> Everything unwinding, including time. Times incoming, life becoming, rope's unwinding.

Bitter Sweet Symphony (The Verve) -> Maybe this is a dying dream. Maybe it's a metaphor. Maybe it's just a memory. Either way, we're back on Earth (?) I can't change my mold, no no no no no.

No Looking Back (Genesis Owusu) -> ...but sometimes you gotta accept that, if there are points of no return, the only way is forward. Maybe that's even a good thing. I lost the light in those years/lost myself in those tears/And I know that there's no looking back.

Horizon (Real Estate) -> End credits. In this rolling landscape/how'd you know just where I'd be?/I find it hard to believe/just one season is all I need.

#ask game

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swappetf11 · 2 months

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Alex Part 8

Part 8

As Damien wakes up next to his partner, the lingering sensations from their night of passion fuel his desire for more. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Damien reaches for the leather cuffs nestled beside the bed, a silent invitation to indulge in their shared fantasies.

His partner's eyes widen with anticipation as Damien's dominant persona takes hold, commanding their attention with a single, authoritative gesture. With practiced ease, Damien secures the cuffs around his partner's wrists, relishing in the feeling of power that courses through him.

With their desires laid bare, Damien takes control, guiding his partner through a labyrinth of sensations and experiences. Each touch, each whisper, is calculated to ignite their passion and push the boundaries of their pleasure.

From the gentle tease of a feather tickler to the sharp bite of a leather flogger, Damien orchestrates their symphony of desire with expert precision. Their moans of ecstasy fill the room, mingling with the crackle of anticipation that hangs heavy in the air.

As they lose themselves in the throes of passion, Damien's dominance becomes a palpable force, binding them together in a dance of submission and surrender. With every command, his partner's devotion deepens, their trust in him unwavering and absolute.

And as the morning light filters through the curtains, Damien and his partner find themselves bathed in the afterglow of their shared ecstasy. With a tender caress, Damien releases his partner from their restraints, their connection stronger than ever before.

In the quiet moments that follow, Damien knows that their journey of exploration and kink is far from over. With a wicked grin, he whispers promises of even greater pleasures yet to come, secure in the knowledge that their love knows no bounds and their desires know no limits.

As Damien receives the exclusive invitation to the BDSM taste choice king night, excitement courses through his veins. The mention of the Mystic and the potion stirs a curiosity within him, fueling his anticipation for the evening's festivities. With a gleam in his eye, Damien wastes no time in sharing the news with his partner, their shared enthusiasm adding an extra layer of excitement to the anticipation.

As they arrive at the event, Damien is greeted with reverence and awe, his presence commanding the attention of all who surround him. The transformation from a mundane accountant to a dominant figure in the BDSM community is nothing short of extraordinary, a testament to the power of desire and self-discovery.

With a cigar clutched between his fingers, Damien exudes an air of confidence and authority as he navigates the crowded room. Requests for autographs come fast and furious, each signature on the cover of a cigar serving as a tangible reminder of his newfound status and influence.

For Damien, the journey from the alleyway to the pinnacle of the BDSM community has been nothing short of remarkable. And as he basks in the splendor of his present reality, he can't help but marvel at the incredible transformation that has taken place. From humble beginnings to a life of passion, power, and fulfillment, Damien knows that he is exactly where he belongs.

As Damien introduces his partner to the Mystic, a sense of anticipation tinged with arousal fills the air. Together, they stand on the threshold of a transformation that promises to delve into the depths of their deepest desires and kinks. While the specifics of the metamorphosis remain shrouded in mystery, Damien and his partner have engaged in countless discussions about the tantalizing possibilities, each conversation igniting a fire of excitement and lust between them.

As they step into the magic box room, Damien can feel the electric charge of anticipation pulsating through his veins, the promise of carnal exploration hanging heavy in the air. With a shared glance filled with hunger and need, they silently reaffirm their commitment to each other, ready to embrace the taboo delights that lie ahead.

Inside the room, the Mystic begins the intricate process of weaving their dark magic, channeling primal forces to bring about the transformation. With each incantation, Damien's partner feels a surge of raw, primal energy coursing through them, setting their senses ablaze with desire.

As the magic takes hold, Damien's partner's body begins to contort and shift in ways that send shivers of arousal down their spine. The changes are swift and intoxicating, a heady mixture of pleasure and pain that leaves them panting and gasping for more.

But amidst the chaos of their transformation, Damien remains a steady anchor for his partner, his dominant presence serving as a beacon of stability in the storm of their desires. Together, they surrender to the intoxicating whirlwind of sensation and ecstasy, their passion fueling their journey into the depths of kink and submission.

And when the magic finally subsides, Damien opens his eyes to behold his partner in a new light. Gone is the familiar visage he once knew, replaced by a creature of dark and seductive allure, their body adorned with the markings of their newfound desires.

With a hunger that burns hotter than ever before, Damien takes in the sight of his transformed partner, their every movement a tantalizing invitation to explore the forbidden pleasures that await them. And as they lock eyes with a shared hunger and lust, Damien knows that their journey into the depths of kink and desire has only just begun. Together, they will embrace the darkest corners of their fantasies, united in their insatiable appetite for carnal ecstasy.

What does Damien’s partner look like? Who did he become?

#transformation kink #leatherman #bluf #bodyswap

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shopseranobakery · 22 hours

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Savoring Sweet Moments: A Deep Dive into the Irresistible Serano Bakery Cakes

When it comes to indulgence, few things can rival the joy of sinking your teeth into a perfectly crafted slice of cake. And for those seeking the pinnacle of sweetness and satisfaction, Serano Bakery cakes stand as a beacon of excellence. In this blog post, we'll take a delectable journey into the world of Serano Bakery cakes, exploring what makes them so irresistible and why they're a must-have for any dessert lover.

At Serano Bakery, the art of cake-making is elevated to a whole new level. Each cake is a masterpiece of flavor, texture, and presentation, crafted with care and precision by skilled artisans who take pride in their craft. From classic favorites to innovative creations, the bakery offers a tantalizing array of options to suit every taste and occasion.

One of the hallmarks of Serano Bakery cakes is their commitment to quality ingredients. Every cake is made using the finest ingredients sourced from trusted suppliers, ensuring a superior taste and texture in every bite. Whether it's velvety chocolate, fragrant vanilla, or luscious berries, each component is carefully selected to create a harmonious symphony of flavors that dance on the palate.

But it's not just about the ingredients – it's also about the artistry and attention to detail that goes into each cake. From the intricate decorations to the delicate layers, every aspect of a Serano Bakery cakes is meticulously crafted to perfection. Whether it's a towering wedding cake adorned with delicate sugar flowers or a simple birthday cake with a heartfelt message, each creation is a labor of love that reflects the bakery's dedication to excellence.

Moreover, Serano Bakery cakes are more than just desserts – they're the centerpiece of life's most memorable moments. Whether you're celebrating a birthday, anniversary, or any other special occasion, a Serano Bakery cake adds an extra touch of sweetness and joy to the festivities. With their stunning appearance and irresistible taste, these cakes have become a beloved tradition for families and friends alike.

But don't just take our word for it – the proof is in the pudding, or rather, the cake! Countless satisfied customers rave about the unforgettable experience of indulging in a Serano Bakery cake, praising everything from the moist crumb to the delectable frosting. It's no wonder that the bakery has become a favorite destination for dessert lovers across the city.

In conclusion, Serano Bakery cakes are more than just desserts – they're works of art that capture the essence of sweetness and celebration. With their commitment to quality ingredients, expert craftsmanship, and unparalleled taste, these cakes have earned their place as a staple of special occasions everywhere. So why wait? Treat yourself or a loved one to the ultimate indulgence and savor every sweet moment with a Serano Bakery cake. For more details visit our website: www.seranobakery.com

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xasha777 · 9 days

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In the luminous embrace of a city that never slept, under the watchful eye of stars that had seen the rise and fall of empires, there stood a tower of glass and light that pierced the heavens. At the pinnacle, an observatory gazed out into the vastness, where celestial bodies danced to the ancient rhythms of the cosmos. It was here, amidst a harmony of technology and stardust, that Ava, an astrophysicist with eyes like fragments of the clear sky, conducted her research.

She was on the verge of a breakthrough that would change humanity's place in the universe—a communicator that could reach across the light-years with the help of an ancient relic: the Psamtik III Transmitter. This device, named after the last pharaoh of the Twenty-sixth Dynasty of Egypt, who according to legend had whispered to the stars, was believed to have properties that could bridge the gap between worlds.

One tranquil night, as the city buzzed below, Ava activated the Psamtik III. A web of holographic interfaces surrounded her, and a beam of light shot up from the tower, carrying with it a message designed to traverse the stars. Ava held her breath, not knowing what might answer.

Hours passed into days, and the city continued its endless symphony of light and shadow. Ava waited, her hope undiminished. Then, on the seventh night, as the first whisper of dawn crept over the horizon, the Psamtik III hummed to life with a response. A voice, not through the ears but directly into the mind, spoke:

"We have heard the echoes of Psamtik across the void. You are not alone."

The words were not of any language known to humankind, yet Ava understood them with crystalline clarity. Her heart raced as the voice continued, sharing knowledge of distant galaxies, of civilizations that soared through the dark on wings of light, of cosmic symphonies that told stories older than Earth's oldest stone.

As the voice faded, the stars seemed to shine brighter, the night sky a canvas of endless possibilities. Ava knew that the world below was unaware of the monumental dialogue that had just taken place. She looked out at the awakening city, a smile playing on her lips, ready to share her discovery. The universe had just expanded beyond measure, and it was beckoning humanity to join in its boundless adventure.

The story of Ava and the Psamtik III would become a legend, a turning point in human history, marking the moment when the children of Earth reached out and touched the infinite.

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ravenkelsie · 10 days

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New! Chapter 11 ft. Raphael's Diary lol - Bloodstream (A Spawn Astarion x Original Female Character Fic)

Chapter Eleven (Raphael's Interlude)

Preview:

My intrepid adventurers have days remaining to secure the crown for me, yet they falter still. Even the precise coordinates I provided seem insufficient. I anticipated a triumphant missive, yet silence reigns. Perhaps I erred in assuming they possessed the requisite self-preservation instinct to fulfill this task; perhaps they court their own demise.

If betrayal festers among them, they shall find no swift release. I shall subject their pitiful forms to a symphony of agony, weaving torment upon torment until their wretched souls beg for mercy—a mercy they shall not receive readily or swiftly.

And yet, I find myself pondering whether it is my own failure that led to this impasse, my reluctance to simply seize the crown myself. Doubt gnaws at me, and I cannot afford to succumb to the machinations of my infernal father. I have waited a millennium for this moment and will not falter now.

Let them be the ones to deliver the crown into my waiting grasp, to place it where it rightfully belongs—in my hands. Once the deed is done, I shall commence my ascent to the pinnacle of power as the Supreme Archdevil of the Nine Hells. My little mouse shall be my first prize, my first spoils of war. Haarlep found delight in her company, and I must admit, having the renowned hero of Baldur’s Gate at my side as my ally, my consort, would be invaluable. The mere thought of her upon my scarlet sheets again stirs a hunger within me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

(If you want to start at the beginning, you can do so HERE)

(Tumblr Post with all links can be found HERE)

(If you want to participate in the Bloodstream Reader's Poll [ALMOST CLOSED], you can do so HERE)

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apratments · 11 days

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The Lodha Bannerghatta Apartments are luxurious andclassy

Lodha Bannerghatta

Lodha Bannerghatta, a beacon of modern living in the heart of Bannerghatta, offers a diverse range of residential properties that redefine the concept of luxury. From stylish apartments to spacious villas, each dwelling within this esteemed community is crafted with precision, elegance, and a commitment to providing residents with a lifestyle that transcends expectations. In this blog, we embark on a journey to explore the various types of residential properties available at Lodha Bannerghatta, showcasing the architectural brilliance and diversity that make it a sought-after destination for discerning homeowners.

Luxurious Apartments

At the heart of Lodha Bannerghatta’s residential offerings are its luxurious apartments. Designed for both comfort and sophistication, these apartments cater to the diverse needs and preferences of residents. The floor plans are thoughtfully laid out, maximizing natural light and ventilation, and each unit is adorned with contemporary finishes and premium fixtures. The apartments range from cozy one-bedroom layouts for young professionals to expansive penthouses that redefine grandeur, providing a living experience that combines style and functionality.

Spacious Villas:

For those seeking a more expansive and exclusive living space, Lodha Bannerghatta presents a collection of spacious villas. These standalone residences are a testament to opulence, offering residents the luxury of privacy and ample space. The villas are meticulously designed, featuring lush gardens, private pools, and personalized outdoor spaces. With multiple bedrooms, sprawling living areas, and dedicated spaces for entertainment, these villas embody grand living amidst the tranquility of Bannerghatta’s natural surroundings.

Cosmopolitan Studio Apartments:

Catering to the needs of a dynamic and cosmopolitan lifestyle, Lodha Bannerghatta introduces studio apartments that seamlessly blend modern design with practicality. Ideal for young professionals or those who appreciate compact living without compromising on style, these studio apartments provide a chic and functional living space. The clever utilization of space, coupled with contemporary amenities, makes these studios an attractive option for those looking for a balance between elegance and efficiency.

Thoughtfully Designed Townhouses:

Lodha Bannerghatta goes beyond conventional living with its thoughtfully designed townhouses. These residences combine the charm of traditional architecture with modern amenities, creating a unique living experience. Townhouses at Lodha Bannerghatta offer a sense of community living, with shared spaces and a close-knit neighborhood feel. Perfect for families, these townhouses provide the ideal blend of privacy and social connectivity.

Sky-high Penthouses:

For those who desire the pinnacle of luxury and panoramic views, Lodha Bannerghatta presents exquisite penthouses that redefine urban living. Occupying the highest floors of the residential towers, these penthouses boast expansive living spaces, private terraces, and unparalleled vistas of Bannerghatta’s skyline. Lavishly appointed with premium finishes and designer touches, these penthouses epitomize luxury living at its zenith.

Conclusion:

Lodha Bannerghatta stands as a testament to the diversity and ingenuity in residential design. Whether one is drawn to the chic simplicity of studio apartments, the luxury of villas, the convenience of apartments, or the charm of townhouses, Lodha Bannerghatta offers a residential option to suit every taste and lifestyle. Aspiring homeowners can discover a living experience that harmoniously blends luxury, comfort, and innovation within the confines of this remarkable community. Lodha Bannerghatta is not just a place to live; it’s an invitation to experience a symphony of luxury living in the heart of Bannerghatta.

Why do you need to select Lodha Bannergahtta in Bangalore?

Lodha Bannerghatta in Bangalore is a testament to a luxurious dwelling in the heart of Bangalore. With number 3 and 3.5-bedroom apartments designed to cater to various preferences, the venture offers a perfect combination of comfort, aesthetics, and present-day facilities. While the price of residing in Lodha Bannerghatta in Bangalore reflects the top-rate nature of the improvement, the investment potential and the first-rate existence it guarantees make it a compelling preference for the ones seeking to make extended-term funding in Bangalorean’s actual property marketplace.