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#cows are a special kind of stupid
eyeofnewtblog · 1 month
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You know what? This really reminds me of how practical farming and ranchers just…be/exist/coexist with certain conditions. What is the least amount of labor on the farmers/ranchers part, to get a mother to nurse her baby? The farmer/rancher is looking at this as “I genuinely want a good healthy bond, so that the veal grows into streak, but if the conditions aren’t right, I’m left with veal’
Here’s the thing, veal (baby beef) sells at significantly higher prices, but it very rarely sells at the right price, depending on a few categories. (This can also actually apply to grass fed vs corn fed beef stock/cattle herds)
1) steak cuts from adult animals are the most popular and well known, so veal cuts are typically only brought by people who actually know exactly what they’re buying (lamb, it apparently has to be stated, is baby sheep? Going off of a group of American women consensus…I’m probably not going to be invited back to this group of ladies…)
2) ranchers that are already grass feeding aren’t going going to turn their noses up at bottle feeding a rejected calf. (Even in a commercial ranch, you’ll find that a decent cowpoke is going try to save EVERY baby he can)…that calf is either going to turn a profit by being veal, being next year’s butchering, or being a breeding calf, regardless of their mother.
3) The entire point of farming and ranching is to make the next generation of food survive as much as possible, for as long as possible, cull the current herd/crop so that the current generation is amenable, edible, delectable.
4) there’s a lot of people complaining about gmo stuff. Every farmer, every damn day, for every damn minute, wants you to please, pretty please with sugar on top, shut the fuck up and actually study selected breeding techniques and basic genetics and pollination. It’s an actual science, who knew?!?!?
5) honey is vegan, the bees actually like us the same way dogs do…they’re bugs, you have to think about it differently but they actually do like us
6) growing blueberries in the Rocky Mountain regions was totally not worth it, the absolute chemistry you have to learn to make the soil just right for growing is just not worth it…
What is the least amount of effort the government can generate in order to have
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Sorry to bother you, but the bodyguard post you did was just 🤤🥰😍 and I can't stop thinking about it day later
Have you ever seen Oshi no Ko? I'd love to see Bodyguard react to someone trying to do something similar as what happened to Ai.
Fans get wind their beloved idol might have feeling for her staff, so a crazed fan tracks down her private address. He plans to get revenge for "His idol cheating on him" but doesn't know there is a guard dog inside ready to bite any threat to his precious charge.
Sorry to keep ragging on about the topic, I just adore you work enough that it lives in my head rent free.
Happy holidays
-🌟
I sadly haven't seen Oshi no Ko, but your description sounds very interesting. Thank you for the idea! I've combined it with your previous suggestion, I think they work together really well. Happy Holidays to you, too! :)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (II)
Your new manager has sent you home for the holidays after persistent rumors surrounding you and your bodyguard. And, as luck would have it, the fan responsible for the accusations successfully sneaks his way in. Sadly for him, you’ve never left the watchful gaze of your loyal, mean dog.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence, threats, mentions of stalking
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Enjoy your holidays!" 
The driver cheerfully bids you goodbye and speeds away, leaving you behind the imposing gate. You drag your luggage inside and nonchalantly toss it with an annoyed huff.
What now? You're all alone in a hollow mansion. 
Early December you begun receiving worrying letters from a fan, making wild claims about you and your bodyguard. Naturally, you laughed it off. Your bodyguard found them equally amusing. So much, that he'd ask you to read them out loud as you rode him. "I w-won't stand for it. You know we ha-ave something special going on, (Y/N)-chan." You barely managed to form coherent sentences, feverishly clinging to the large man underneath you. "You heard the guy. Better be on your best behavior", he'd add with a chuckle, wiping the drool from your mouth. 
The new manager, however, wasn't as relaxed about it. He couldn't risk tarnishing the reputation of his beloved cash cow, so he suggested you take a break from personal assistants until the rumors tone down. If you remained within your expensively secured house, you wouldn't need any guarding. So, he caringly prescribed a dose of homely isolation for the upcoming holidays. 
"Don't be so dramatic", he said, "Jesus spent 40 days in the desert by himself. And he didn't have your indoor cinema or jacuzzi bathtub."
"Yeah, but he had the Devil to tempt him. Where's my bad guy?" You whined as a retort. 
You let out another groan and throw yourself on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Kind of them to decorate everything for Christmas, you think as you eye the gigantic kitsch of a tree slapped in the middle of the living room. 
Fuck. What an absolute waste of time. All because of one crazy fan. You almost wish he'd show his stupid face so your bodyguard could pummel it to bits and crumbles. You wonder what he's doing by himself. Is he going to be assigned to another idol? Probably not, two weeks is too short of a time for anything. You check your phone.
Suddenly, the screen lights up. A text notification. 
"Bored?"
Heh. It's almost as if he can read your mind. You smile to yourself and type your response, stretching onto the sofa. Your little back and forth messaging goes on until you look up and notice the room has gotten darker. Already evening. You can hear your stomach growl, so you get up and drag your feet towards the kitchen, searching for takeaway fliers. If you're going to be under house arrest, the least you can afford is junk food. 
Once you place your decadent order, you hop onto the counter and idly dangle your legs in anticipation. Your favorite off-duty guard dog has abruptly told you he needs to go and is now offline. "Something came up". What could possibly require his immediate attention? A mistress? You giggle at the idea. In all your time spent together, you haven't seen him glance at a single woman. If he must, he will engage with other people using one-word replies, visibly uninterested. You never considered him much of a talker, but his behavior with anyone else, in comparison, is downright hostile. 
There's a rustling sound and you jolt. Was the food delivered already? It hasn't been that long. You jump off the marble countertop and freeze in place once you see the man standing in the doorway. His face is concealed with a medical mask and he's audibly panting, the hot air fogging up his glasses. You notice the knife in his hand.
"How rude of you to cheat on me so shamelessly, (Y/N) dear."
Huh? Your eyes widen in realization. Was this the crazed fan bombarding you with threatening letters? Your features twist in utter disgust, still transfixed on the weapon within his grip. 
This little shit. Not only does he break into your home, but he decides to intimidate you with a department store kitchen utensil. Is that all you're worth? Is that any way to greet one of the top idols in this country?
You angrily pull the nearby drawer open and grab a long, sharp blade. The man tenses up and steps forward, but you stop him in his tracks, throwing the item at his feet. He stares at you, bewildered. 
"It's a Yoshihiro Sashimi knife. More than your monthly income, most likely." You state as you leer down at him, grimace plastered on your face. "Pick it up like the animal you are."
He cannot move. Is this his beloved (Y/N)? Her pretty, innocent smile and sparkling eyes have been replaced by this hateful scowl. He feels like a cockroach about to be stepped on, a mere vermin invading her personal space. This can't be right. It's him that should be upset, he's the betrayed party. When has she gotten so...Ah. This must be the work of that bodyguard. He's always known. The way he looks at her, with a predatory glint as if marking his territory. He should've noticed earlier. Poor, sweet (Y/N), at the hands of a brute. Tears form in his eyes and he opens his mouth to speak up, but a burning blow assaults his back and everything goes black. 
Your bodyguard casually walks in and lifts the intruder up by the nape of his neck. 
"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"
You blush and wipe your eyelashes dramatically, releasing a gentle sob from your puckered lips.
"Touch? He almost killed me! I was so scared...I thought I was done for."
He frowns at your words.
"I'll take care of it."
You can feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach. As he drags the body out of the kitchen, you follow behind enthusiastically. 
"Do it in the living room!" You almost squeal.
"Are you sure? It will get messy. I'm not letting this one walk out." He warns you with a worried expression. 
"Yes, yes!" you nod, all bubbly. "Right here, next to the Christmas tree."
Once the gory spectacle is over, the bodyguard sprawls onto the sofa, exhausted. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. You are about to join him, when a thought crosses your mind. 
"Now that I think about it, how did you know I was about to be attacked? That was some really extraordinary timing."
Out of reflex, he palms his pocket to check if his phone is still within his possession. Thankfully he hasn't left it in plain sight. You squint suspiciously. 
"Are you spying on me or something?"
He remains quiet for a few moments and eventually lowers his head apologetically, avoiding eye contact.
"Forgive me, Miss."
When he glances up again, your small figure is looming over him.
"Wow, what a pervert you are." You push his chin up with your dainty fingers. "How will you make it up to me for such nasty habit~?"
"Is there anything you want me to do?"
"Good boy."
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"Stupid" Things the TWST Cast Believed As Kids
I was going to post this without a preamble but it just looked wrong LMAO -----------------------------------------------------
Heartslaybul
Riddle - He just mispronounced a lot of words out loud. This is actually common in a lot of kids that read a lot, they don't know how to say a word any differently than the way they've pronounced it in their head, so some examples: (Ladle -> would rhyme with Saddle, Rhythm had over-emphasis on the first 'h', etc.)
Trey - thought butter was made from the fat collected off of cow butts ('butt' was also the only 'naughty' word he knew for a long time). The thing is he had probably seen his parents make butter. either by accident or on purpose and it still didn't click for him.
Cater - only ate black beans, (when they were served). when he was a kid because he thought they were the same as coffee beans. He saw his dad eating chocolate covered coffee beans and got mad when he denied him the Delight Of Caffeine at Three Years Old so thought eating black beans was like. A super sneaky way of being like his dad.
Deuce - Chocolate covered strawberries came from a special plant, he didn't think his mom just set them up for him sometimes. He ended up asking more than a few times when his strawberries were plain when they could 'go back to the store and get the good kind' and would call the strawberries without chocolate 'rotten'.
Ace - For whatever reason, he didn't think bears were a real animal. Just. Teddy bears existed. And of course when his big brother showed him pictures of real bears he thought he was messing with him. Ace will not admit how long it took him to realize that bears are real.
Savannaclaw
Leona - Falena told him once that vanilla extract comes from 'beaver butt juice' and it was in all the vanilla flavoured desserts he's ever had. Yes Falena was messing with him to get his portion of desserts because Leona was too grossed out to eat them. It managed to last about 6 months before Leona was fed up and researched the information on his own.
Ruggie - His grandma protected him best she could from food scarcity, so he genuinely believed she knew how to make something from nothing. Same with his clothes.
Jack - Refused to eat hotdogs because he thought they were made from real dogs and cried whenever he saw someone else eating hot dogs. Even when they bough turkey hot dogs he thought they added 'turkey flavouring' to the Dogs.
Octavinelle
Azul - Thought cuttlefish were 'cuddlefish' and would get so SO upset when they didn't want to snuggle with him
Jade - When he first heard the word 'hermaphrodite' he thought it meant someone who just really really liked hermit crabs.
Floyd - Was SO disappointed to find out ice cream didn't scream while you eat it (I-scream)
Scarabia
Kalim - Used to try and eat really fast, so Jamil told him if he ate his food too hot his tongue would melt to the top of his mouth. (Yeah Jamil got in trouble for that one but it worked, Kalim savoured his food and he still makes sure his food is cooled down a little before he eats).
Jamil - Didn't eat yogurt for a long time because he didn't want to 'feed the bacteria in his belly'. That was his only reasoning.
Pomefiore
Vil - thought candy cigarettes were real cigarettes, this resulted in him biting one of his dad's or fellow actor's cigarettes and Regretting it. (Even the fake ones are filled with like an herbal blend, you don't want to eat it still)
Rook - kinda sad, but genuinely thought termites were considered dessert. They were fairly rampant in his home so he would eat them any chance he got (raw termites supposedly taste like pineapple).
Epel - yeah he thought he was a werewolf, there isn't much else to add.
Ignihyde
Idia - Thought that microwaving a spider/other bugs for a very short amount of time would mutate their DNA and he could keep it as a pet, despite many failed attempts, he continued trying.
Ortho - (insert ugly crying here thinking about baby boys early years) he really believed that one day Idia would find a way to bring the characters from tv/video games into 'real life' so they could have play dates with them. (Idia promised him he would try his best)
Diasomnia
Malleus - He thought computers were a type of pet people could have.
Lilia - Used to think that the stars were really big glow bugs
Silver - Fully believed the storks deliver babies thing. Not because of Lilia, but because of a story book and it made things easy so he just rolled with it anyways, until Silver was old enough.
Sebek - That the fountain of youth was real - he wanted to drink from it once he reached his prime so that he could serve Malleus always.
Others
Che'nya - Refused to believe that gum ever came from trees because he 'tried sap before and it didn't even taste like syrup so how could something sweet as gum come from trees'.
Najma - Thought she was able to talk to ghosts, it was just Jamil fucking with her lskjfhsldkjfsdf
Neige - Didn't know what owls were, called them tree penguins.
Rollo - Called ambulances 'Body Rescue Busses' because even as a kid he knew only God could save your soul. (you can take that seriously or as satire idc) -------------------------------------------------------- @fluffle-writes thank you for the compliments, and the motivation to write!! ljfkjdshflkjsdf
If you want to be on a taglist in the future lmk
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kintheartist · 7 months
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The Tale of Napoleon Gerard, AKA Nips Garhunter
This post was available early to my patrons, so if you'd like to see stuff like this from me please consider joining my page!
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I'm currently playing in a Curse of Strahd campaign in which every single player, independently, decided: "you know what would be amazing is if I brought a really stupid character for this horror  campaign," and that's how we ended up with a party of absolute idiots. It kind of makes things worse when stuff goes south...
Nips is just a big, sweet, dumb boy who speaks with a strong Southern Belle accent. He's very polite and friendly and just wants everyone to get along. His backstory is that he was mostly raised by his gramma, Betty--inspired by my own grandmother as a way to memorialize her.
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Betty's daughter (Nips' mother) was a bit of a rebel and ended up becoming a mistress of the duke of their province, a tyrant named Duke Gerard. She fell pregnant with Nips and died in childbirth with him. The duke tried to take Nips from Betty, but she absolutely refused and visited the ducal palace every single day. Nips was such a handful and so stubborn with every nursemaid except for Betty that the duke finally gave up and allowed her to raise Nips as long as he lived in the palace the majority of the time.
The ducal family had a legitimate son after a few years, though, and Nips was ignored in many ways because of this. He spent his childhood running away to his gramma's house and baking bread and peach jam with her. When his younger brother reached inheriting age, however, the duke sent Nips away. He became a bit of a hero in a quiet fishing village for saving their waters from an overpopulation of gar, thus his assumed surname "Garhunter." "Nips" isn't what he was called growing up either--his grandmother called him "Leon."
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He's worried about his grandmother and tries to sneak back to see her whenever he can.
In my current campaign, he's stuck in Barovia and wants nothing more than to get back to his gramma. I'm playing him as a paladin with a homebrew oath--the Oath of Family. His "spells" often involve him whipping up homecooked meals and his "holy symbol" is the sun hat his gramma gave him.
It's been a pretty rough campaign, though. Nips is very homesick.
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He has grown to VERY MUCH dislike Strahd for both personal and general reasons--all I'll say is that our party adopted Vasili as our favorite NPC and brought him everywhere with us. Sooo when the party was invited to dinner at Strahd's mansion, Nips showed up in his full ducal regalia in order to try and show Strahd that he refuses to be cowed.
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That patch on his chest is the Gerard family's symbol, a spear in an open field. The family specializes in spearfighting; thus Nips' proficiency with the spear for fishing.
It's been hard for Nips to face Strahd because Strahd reminds him of his own father; a tyrant. In a way, living in the fishing village gave Nips a way to avoid facing the damage his father has done and avoiding the responsibility ingrained in him since birth of protecting the people of the dukedom. The moral quandaries in Curse of Strahd are difficult for him. It's distressing to him when he can't help everyone. A part of his spirit is becoming bitter and hard.
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Not to mention that our time at Strahd's castle didn't go well...
He actually has a playlist as well, if you would like to listen to it on Spotify 💚 >>HERE<<
-
Also check out @birdlimes and @izuris and of course the DM ruining all our lives, @rookdaw, for more art from the campaign B)
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messycunt · 1 year
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So like…Vil’s one of the most popular show cows, right? And thus the farm would do anything to keep him happy. So, what if he was assigned a handler who could not give less a shit about his status. They call him “your highness” sarcastically and just scoff when he makes an unreasonable request.
So, he asks the farm owner for a bed warmer during his heat (is that what it’s called? I forgot I’m sorry) and he wants his handler. The handler is offered a lot of money for the job, so much it’d be stupid to turn it down.
Vil always gets what he wants, he’s the farm’s star after all!
hcs + a blurb, not proof read
cw: afab reader, male lactation, hybrids(hucows), dubcon(Vil is an entitled lil prick ok i made him extra bitchy)
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With a silky blond hide, gorgeous ivory horns, and a face card that never declines, Vil is the shit and he knows it. Everyone else does too if he has anything to say about it. Well everyone but you.
The fact that his presents didn’t leave you completely star struck upon your first meeting irked him more than he’d like to admit.
If not for his beauty he usually receives positive recognition for how much work he puts into maintaining it but you couldn’t care less. If anything you see him as boujee and stuck up, not admirable and hard working.
You irritate him beyond belief but he truly is unreasonable for the most part.
The look he gives you when you roll your eyes at his request to have you personally prepare his meals instead of eating the same as everyone else or to tailor the outfits prepared for him by Crewel yourself rather than just sending them back could kill a man. Still, you remain unphased. 
He wakes up at 5:30 sharp every morning and has a skin care routine with more steps than any dance routine he’d ever be expected to pull off. It's all so.. exhausting. 
He has won so many blue ribbons that he’s lost count you know? And his father was an international show bull too? The fairs he’s featured in wouldn't be half as lucrative without his name attached -or so he says- so the least you could do is put in some effort to help him stay on track with his personalized diet.
At first you were surprised to learn that Vil does any physical work at all let alone regularly but as you come to know him it makes sense. 
He’s not lazy- far from it actually. His insistence on stressing you to your wits end and then some is some kind of sick power game to him you reason. 
Still you remain unphased.
Helping him wash and dye his hair and the end of his tail is one thing but giving him a full manipedi every other day is much too much.
Milking him is practically a nightmare.
He bitches about you handling him too rough or the suction being too high when the machine is barely sucking faster than the milk is flowing out.
Insistent on using the main house bathrooms and showers, despite having his own personal one in his room, Vil will snap at anyone who questions him about it.
Oh what joy was hearing the news that your beloved “special princess”, as you liked to teasingly call him, had gone into rut.
This meant not only that you would both be blessed with a much needed break from each other but also that maybe just maybe getting laid would help him loosen up some. 
Too bad you only got a few hours into your first day off before receiving a call from a certain black haired man urging you to come back to the main house to hold up your end of a deal you simply could not refuse.
Vil looked a hot mess.
The heady smell of warm vanilla and some expensive cologne he loved to wear and you never remembered the name of smacked you in the face the second you stepped foot in your room. Having already set your things down you made your way to your bed, pulling your top over your head and plopping down on the corner next to his head.
 “Awwww did her highness decide to grace her lowly servant with her presence today? I’m surprised you didn’t bring your little boyfriend with you.” up close he looked more pathetic than you anticipated. Hair undone and sticking to the clammy skin of his shoulders, back and forehead. A defeated look on his face all wrapped up in one of your bed covers. 
“‘M not up for your teasing, not today. Did that old crow relay my message or do I have to tell you myself?” he chided. Words coming out slurred and jumbled as if he had drool pooled inside of his mouth. 
“Yeah yeah ‘In return for your services you will receive 50% of the next month and a half’s show and exhibit earnings! Aren't I a generous employer!?’ or somethin’ like that” Looking up at you with glazed over eyes and a straight flushed face he seemed unimpressed by your Crowley impression. 
“Good. You won’t mind this then” A sound akin to that of a startled puppy left you as Vil dragged you under his body still covered by one of your favorite blankets. This isn’t the first and probably wouldn’t be the last time he took it upon himself to manhandle you. Still you remain unphased. You squint a few times to let your eyes adjust to the light blaring down on the both of you. “You know from this angle, and without all that makeup you don’t look half bad.” you snickered before pulling your features into a more stern look. “Now get offa me” 
Wiggling in an attempt to sit up only pulled the two of you closer than you’d deem comfortable. “Ough gross. Please tell me you weren't laying up under my sheets ass naked the whole time I was gone??? Vil I swear the second this whatever you’re going through wears off I-” A pristinely polished thumb hooked into your mouth. Sitting up some his other hand reached down to pull down at your shorts. “You agreed to this, yes? So stop being a pain and let me get it over with”
Having discarded your bottoms he pulled the thumb that was sitting inside of your mouth away to unceremoniously shove inside of your cunt. “Tight and inviting, surprising. I was almost certain a whore like you would have made her way around the block a few times and then some” his words stung but not enough for you to let it show. “Trying so hard to look unbothered. It’s cute but I advise you to quit it.” Easing his thumb out of you to push and roll against your clit he lined up his head against you. ”Unless you want to make this harder for the both of us”
Feeling an inch or two ease its way into you made you tense. Vil dropped his face back down closer to yours, close enough for you to taste his breath. “I’ll be soft and sweet with you this time, but I have full intentions of breeding and breaking you until you can think of nothing but me.”
You’re going to kill Crowley. 
12.4.22 - more
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astrronomemes · 1 year
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THE EMPEROR’S NEW GROOVE : STARTERS
a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 2000 Disney movie, The Emperor’s New Groove. change & alter as needed.
“Okay, this is the real me.”
“You threw off my groove!”
“Let me guess — you’ve got a great personality.”
“The emperor had me thrown out the window.”
“You really should have thought of that before you became peasants!”
“Hey, everybody hits their stride! You just hit yours fifty years ago.”
“Word on the street is, you can fix my problem. You can fix my problem, can’t you?”
“Oh, right, the poison! The poison for [name]! The poison chosen specially to kill [name]! [Name]’s poison! That poison?”
“Let’s face it, you’re no spring chicken. And I mean that in the best possible way.”
“You know, in my defense, your poisons all look alike. You might think about relabeling some of them.”
“I am so glad I was unconscious for all of this.”
“Listen here, big guy, I’ve got three good reasons why you should just walk away.”
“Hope that doesn’t come back to haunt me.”
“Why would I kidnap a llama?!”
“You’re the criminal mastermind, not me!”
“Okay, that was the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t worry, [name], I’ve got you! You’re safe now!”
“Maybe I’m just new to this whole ‘rescuing’ thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards, wouldn’t you say?”
“For the last time, it was not a kiss.”
“Someday, you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Well, he ain’t gettin’ any deader. Back to work.”
“You can’t get much deader than he is right now! Unless, of course, we killed him again!”
“Well, he’s not as dead as we would have hoped.”
“You know that means you’re doing something nice for someone else?”
“Well, I was going to have you imprisoned for life, but... I kinda like this better.”
“I thought you were a changed man!”
“I was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but you’ve proved me wrong!”
“Well, that makes you ugly, and stupid.”
“You’re just gonna have to trust me.”
“Don’t read too much into it. It was a one-time thing.”
“What are the chances of you carrying me?”
“No, no, it’s not you. She’s not the easiest person to get close to. There’s a wall there, trust me.”
“When will you learn that all my ideas are good ones?”
“We’ve been walking around in circles for who knows how long! That is the last time we’re taking directions from a squirrel!”
“It’s a simple question! Is there or is there not anything edible on this menu?”
“They saw the whole thing. They know what happened.”
“Oh, yeah... it’s all coming together.”
“As much as he tries to deny it, I know there’s some good in him.”
“From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward.”
“Hey, I’ve been turned into a cow. Can I go home?”
“For the last time, we did not order a giant trampoline!”
“Stop being so hard on yourself! All is forgiven.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been tossed out a window, and it won’t be the last!”
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foolishlovers · 5 months
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Cuz you're doing recs can I ask your favorite explicit non-AU fics? If this is weird, just ignore it please. also sorry if its weird.
that's alright, i don't mind recommending some!!
Just a Taste by summerofspock (3k) See, it wasn’t so much the eating. It was the noises. It was the indecent look on Aziraphale’s face. It was the way he licked his fingers and wiggled in his seat. Every little action felt specially created to undo Crowley. And Aziraphale had no idea.
Anywhere You Want to Go by Aria (9k) Aziraphale knew Crowley liked him. He'd known it with a horrible clarity since around 1100, which was at least a thousand years after the first time he'd thought of kissing Crowley, and some eight hundred and odd before it occurred to him that the specific quality of Crowley's regard could be very dangerous for both of them, if they actually admitted their feelings aloud. It was also two weeks since any of that had mattered at all anymore.
Lead me to the banquet hall by obstinatrix, wishwellingtons (14k) Crowley loves taking Aziraphale out to eat almost as much as Aziraphale loves eating, but it's always a bit of a one-sided affair. Aziraphale has never understood why. Crowley planned on keeping it that way, but best laid plans…
The road to rapture has a lot of pit stops by emmagrant01 (17k) Five times they kissed over four thousand years, and one time they actually meant it.
One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan (17k) "All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?" Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.  "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."  AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.
Faking It by bisasterdi (28k) In the immediate aftermath of the Nope-Let's-Notpocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale tentatively begin to move on, hoping Heaven and Hell will leave them alone in the wake of both of their failed trials. Of course, nothing could possibly be that simple. It isn't that Gabriel or Beelzebub have actually figured out how the trials were subverted…but boy, do they THINK they have it figured out. Thankfully, it won't take much to keep them in the dark. (Crowley and Aziraphale just have to spend eternity together, pretending to be in love with each other. All Crowley needs to do is make sure Aziraphale never finds out that everything he's saying and doing is true.)
32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (32k)
”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan
Okay, fine.
Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him.
He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.
The Sandford Flower Show by Mussimm (46k) Crowley had waited six thousand years, kept it all in check. But this was the slipperiest slope he’d ever set foot on and as soon as he’d indulged in a few discretionary acts of kindness he was falling face first into pining, tumbling into flirting, about to dislocate his knees on the sharp rocks of intimacy. Was this really it? What he had waited six thousand years for? A stupid flower show? Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away from him. Maybe… maybe this time he wouldn’t? Maybe they’d hold hands again. Maybe tonight with a bottle of merlot in them he’d finally work up the courage and just kiss him and he wouldn’t pull away. The very moment he’d thought it he spotted the problem at the flower show.
Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (50k) Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.
The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (79k) After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.
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dedmasya · 4 months
Text
HN's lore and fandom are literally broken atm
Every time when something shitty happens with this poor franchise I had the feeling that I should write something about it. And the last AS teaser was like a spit into my face, so here you go. HN has problems, the fandom, the franchise itself. And these problems are huge. We all know that it's a some kind of a milking cow at the moment, it's already a very sad situation. People around me (with whom I hang out and they are/were in HN fandom) liked the way how story went when Nikita was around. It's obvious, that he wasn't involved in modern HN2 and projects that were created after. It may sound stupid to those people, who don't have this feeling, but you just know that he hasn't participated in development. It's like a style, handwriting. You can try to copy it, but it still will be a copy. And his style, his handwriting is nowhere. The last time I felt that HN is HN was when HN2 alpha 2 teasers were seen. I was excited, had high hopes. Felt that special vibe. But later? Nothing. Lore problems. SIGH. Every fucking interpretation of this poor game fails, contradicting each other and original canon. We have the game. The first and original resource of information, everything else should be based on it, not the opposite(!). These books are a cash grab, I have almost all of them, I've read them, but they're a cash grab literally. I can say it as a person who is writing too and who can point out that everyone is freaking OOC in them, including Theodore. And no matter how TB wants to be "an animation studio" or smth, they're GAME PUBLISHERS hiii hellooo hi??? You're supposed to publish games, they spent money on absolutely unnecessary product that can't even give them these money back, as I suppose. You all do know that Ted never freaking ever had a brother. Even the book one had SISTER, but it was just a random fact even and her existence in the lore was... Not important. Lore keeps being overwritten over and over again, it's nowhere HN already. The legacy was destroyed or smth. I won't even say anything about poor HG that had amusing potential! Are u guys really okay with this? Cuz I'm not. It feels at least disrespectful to Nikita, imho. I would be so depressed if my creation was turned into a milking cow for someone else. HN1 had a meaning, morality. It wasn't just a game for fun and giggles, it was a message, it was an art. Like a good movie, like a good book. But a good game. Maybe with bugs, yes. Maybe it wasn't 100% perfect in different aspects, but it had soul. And imho HN could be a russian gamedev savior at some point, cuz russian gamedev is half alive. And old fandom... People who are new to this franchise probably doesn't know a lot of facts, some don't even understand what was HN1 about, even if it's obvious as hell. People are not friendly to each other for some reason, despite they're a part of one community. Stop stabbing the same boat where we all in, you will drown not us, but yourself too. So we should be respectful to each other, we're the one community, no matter if we want it or not. I miss old HN. No fucking mystic, just metaphors and messages. No random flat characters, no 100 boring and unnecessary spin-offs, including a freaking cartoon. And as a conclusion HN = Nikita (and Dynamic Pixels ppl) No Nikita = No HN Text is not systematized as it should, maybe there are even grammar mistakes. But it's an emotional vent.
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nicktremblaywayfu · 25 days
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Write me some Coyle stuff pls. Him being a stupid idiot. Eating some hamburger and having a secret food stash. Then get caught red handed and being an asshole. I love your job as always, and the hunter x Coyle is good. Anyway, I need more coyle , I'm horny.
Hello pen since im a responsible adult with job, im definitely not doing this in the middle of work time. anyway.
Coyle headcanon lists : Favorite food and daily life
(Warning : Not nsfw, but it has hint of 18+ content. This is Outlast anyway, a 18+ rated game lmao)
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It’s mainstream and nothing special, but for some reason, Hamburger has a special spot in his heart. Well, to be specific, his stomach. He thinks it’s simple yet fulfilling. Cheap and fast, not to mention he can eat it anywhere.
His favorite burger would be the classic one with melting American red cheddar. Thick beef or ham patty that is made entirely from ground meat with little to no flour. His dad taught him how to make this burger. ‘Said that one day in the future, this kind of patty would surpass the old one where you have to add egg and flour.
Whenever his family has a barbeque afternoon, he’ll be greedy with the patty on the grill. His mother had to scold him to stop taking more beef. 
Unlike the other kids, little Coyle was always fond of veggies in his burger. The fresh vegetables are a perfect match for the greasy meaty patty and melting cheese.
His favorite type of beef would be veal. Indeed, veal has a better delicate texture and tenderness level that mature cows don’t have. But he also has his own personal satisfaction that he ate an animal that is still months after it was born.
In Sinyala, he would use his privilege to ask for a beef burger for every lunch. Although there was no beef in Sinyala or the desert, somehow Murkoff always found a way to provide him with meat.
His only complaint is that the vegetables provided aren’t fresh enough.
The ex-pops have their cafeteria. And Coyle is a regular customer there. Snacks, TV dinners, cigars, or even some suspicious-looking frozen meat. But he couldn’t care less. Meat is meat.
He would often buy a stock of baby Ruth to feed his deputies. Hell, he’d be the one to buy the full stock before them so he could have a way to control those giant gents with treats. 
He knew how feral those expendables ex-pops were. They didn’t get paid much, they only got fed once a day, twice if Murkoff had leftover food stock that was rotting already. So he kept most foods and beverages that were still edibles for him only.
This is technically not illegal, as he paid it all. But surely unethical.
He kept it in the hole of his wall beneath his wardrobe, safe from stealing hands.
But one day, he asked some hard grunts to help him redecorate his room. He promised them food and money, to which they agreed. 
Foolishly, he forgets about his food stash. And the ex-pops are not happy with what they found.
One of the hard grunts threatens him with her claw, and Coyle tries to calm them in negotiating with the food. He is usually a violent man, but sometimes bribing someone can be more beneficial for him.
Hard grunts being hard grunts, they were too aggressive. The other ex-pops charge to him. 
Coyle doesn’t hesitate, he stabs the charging ex-pop with his baton right on his eyes and electrocutes him while he is wailing in pain. 
Done with one, he moved his target to the other one. But she is tougher, Coyle has to put up a fight against her.
As their weapon hit against each other, Coyle manages to make her claw stuck between the space in his baton, As she struggles to pull it out, Coyle kicks her right in the abdomen. 
Before even she can look at him, Coyle’s prod baton pierces through her neck, sending her unconscious with the shock of electricity.
As he cleans the blood from his weapon, he murmurs to himself. “Useless moving chunk of meat. No wonder they ended up as my lunch.”
In the end, he called his two loyal deputies instead. They were more than happy to be given burgers and baby ruths anyway. Coyle even let the boys take the stiff, laying ex-pops that was shocked by him.
In daily life, ex-pops either hate him or love him.
Some love him because of his charisma, some would lick his boot for dollars or a piece of his meat.
He has a lot of fans, some people that think it’s an honor to have bedtime with him. But he has two favorite people he often has bed time with. One is a fellow prime asset and one is a reagent.
The prime asset is someone who holds higher power, while the reagent loves being under his control. Two different worlds, two different tastes. 
This reagent is a little bit unique tho. He is a self-proclaimed therapist and offers “relieving methods of mind relaxations” to Coyle. And Coyle for obvious reasons is his regular customer of this method.
While the prime asset would drag him like a dog. Walk him like he’s on the leash, commanding him around. He knows well Coyle has this guilty feeling of a situation where he is seen a a lower rank and treated badly. It is arousing for this manlet cops. Sometimes he wants to have little fun with things that he does not approve yet his “little man” says otherwise.
For those ex-pops whom he doesn’t even set eyes on, either being fodder to his pawns or treated like things.
His deputies have the mind of naughty teenagers. So Coyle often finds an easy target to bully with his deputies who are twice the size as him
Bullying fills his ego, filling his pride, a validation that he still holds higher power than those expendables ex-pops.
Sometimes when he is on a coffee break at the Police Station, he’ll talk to the guards behind the fences. To the point, he managed to charm them all.
He treated his staff very subjectively. Depending on how much he likes them and how they would be beneficial for him.
Overall, you are either gonna desire his piece or you want to see him dead.
Bonus HunCoyle here because they’re in a package : 
Coyle never told Hunter about his food stash. Tho it isn’t a big problem anyway. Hunter prefers hunting his food, with his loyal security guard or his two hunting dogs.
Hunter prefers something more exquisite food. He refused to eat something he considered peasant food. Even if he had to eat a burger, it has to be something that cost 10 times the regular price.
Coyle Hunter rarely eats together as they have different work shifts. But if they have the chance, Coyle will have to follow his fancy table manner
Hunter is not fond of how Coyle fed the male big grunts junk food like candies. So often he would give them expensive chocolates (don’t ask where he got all those stuff)
Both Coyle and Hunter are fit men, but they don’t really have thick, shaped abs. You can see their muscle, with some bit of fat here and there especially their tummy. 
Coyle is lowkey insecure that his tummy doesn’t show the glorious thick abs when he was younger. Hunter on the other hand doesn’t mind. He actually wished for a thicker body.
Coyle once offered Hunter a cigar. He hates it.
In the end, they are two completely different worlds that complete each other.
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Text
One night in Spielberg
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This is my first ever fic (and probably my last lol) and english is not my first language, so please be understanding. I don't want any hate on this blog so if it's not your cup of tea, don't read it. Thank you 💖 Just leaving this here and going to sleep, byeee. 🙈
Summary: I read a fic the other day with Checo and his PR officer and I had thoughts. A lot of thoughts. It's a friends to lovers story, but smut.
Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, unprotected sex
Working for Red Bull Racing was a dream come true for you. So as the head of the PR department, it was hard when you saw them struggling for the past few years with finding the perfect teammate for Max.
2020 came by and unfortunately Alex couldn't perform on the required level, so it was an open secret that he should be gone by the end of the season. It was a shame because he is such a sweet guy and you loved working with him, he was like a little brother to you.
You heard rumours about who's gonna replace him, but you never believed those paddock gossips. At the end of the season the news came. The "experienced driver" who will replace Alex for the 2021 season is actually Checo Perez who almost lost his seat in F1, which would be a shame as he is an excellent driver and seems like a great guy too.
Christian gave you the responsibilty to help him with the media stuff and with the integration to his new team.
-
First time you met him it was at Milton Keynes, one member of your crew was showing him the factory and introducing him to the people. When you first met him, you felt nothing special, he was just like every other driver, well dressed, sporty elegant style, kind and polite.
In the first few months it became clear that you two were a great match, immediately clicked, having fun during race weekends, you had your inside jokes, you also helped him prank the whole marketing crew because you knew how much he likes pranks and you considered it as a kind of team building. Slowly you became good friends. Maybe a little bit too good because some people in the paddock find your relationship suspicious, but you thought they have too much time for things like this and they just like the drama.
But the RB home race came, and it had changed everything.
Usually, for the Austrian GP the whole crew was staying at this lovely hotel, with an amazing view to the mountains and there is a cute lake beside it which makes it more romantic and peaceful. You always loved this place, you wanted to stay here for the rest of the year if it was possible.
The plan was a media day with the AlphaTauri guys, so you had to wake up early in the morning to prepare everything with the marketing crew because it was more complicated than usual with all the games and different locations to go. You made sure that everything is ready when the guys arrive.
First time you saw the guys they were already wearing those stupid lederhosen and you couldn't help but laugh, but also you had to admit that Checo looked really cute in it. Maybe too cute, you felt a little weird to acknowledge that, even if you didn't say it out loud. He saw you being in your head.
"Que pasa Y/N? You must be really tired to prepare all of this. If I had known that this is what we will do today I would let you sleep instead."
"I am actually tired, but this view is totally worth it...I mean you guys in these clothes... It's hilarious."
He's now looking at you with fake anger but couldn't help himself and laugh with you.
"Yeah, no wonder why we hate the marketing team so much."
-
The day went smooth so you could laugh freely at the boys' actions including the cow milking, the racing in the woods and all the other stupid tasks the team gave to them, they behaved well and it seemed they had a lot of fun, so it was a successful day after all.
It was time for a little relax, and the hotel had a nice pool on the terrace so you and a few other members of the crew went for it, chillin' with your glass of wine and discussing the day. Once you heard noises from the hotel and all of a sudden, the boys were out in their swimming pants, already a little drunk. Max, Pierre and Checo was trying to convince Yuki to jump into the pool, of course they didn't have to tell him twice, next thing you know he was spreading all the water over you and your company. Soon the boys joined the spontanious party and the pool became a mess as everyone were splashing the water all over the place. At one moment you find yourself sitting on Checo's shoulders as you were playfully fighting with your friend from the marketing crew who sat on Pierre's.
After a while the group started to calmed down and everyone left to have some sleep before the race weekend, leaving just the two of you in the summer night.
"Today wasn't that bad as you imagined, no?" You asked him, breaking the unusual silence as you were slowly swimming back and forth in front of him.
"No it wasn't, I love having fun with the team. I just don't like to be in front of all these cameras and stuff. But you know that."
"Yeah I know, but you survived, and you were absolutely professional, I'm proud of you."
"Oh really? Maybe you drank too much, that's why you saying nice things to me." he said with that cheeky smile on his face, which made you blush.
"I'm always saying nice things to you. Except when you do something stupid, then you need some punishment." Maybe it was the alcohol going through your veins, but you started to feel brave enough to flirt a little bit.
"Punishment? Maybe you deserve some, because of those activities you made me do today." and with that he went after you and when he reached you from behind he started to tickle you and you were going crazy beacuse you were ticklish as hell.
You were trying to fight it, giggling and screaming at the same time but it was hard, he was stronger than you so it was quite a challenge. Somehow you managed to get behind him and you were immediately jumping on his back, crossing your legs in front of him so he had to hold you with both hands. Now you were in control, but you had no plan, just to keep his hand busy for a while so he can't torture you any longer.
"You said you had fun today." You were panting close to his ear.
"I did."
"So why are you punishing me?" You asked him half laughing, looking at his neck, somehow feeling an urge to kiss it. You started to feel something as you were on his back so close to him, only with your swimsuits on.
"I just wanted a reason to touch you." You came back from your thoughts, his words were echoing in your ears like they were coming from another planet. You stiffened on his back and you had no clue what to answer, if he said that for real and it wasn't just your imagination. Today was the first day that you saw him in a different way, but you immediately chased away those thoughts about his smile, his hair, his face... he is your friend and colleauge, maybe the place was the reason of these stupid thoughts. And now he says he wanted to touch you.
He felt that you changed your posture and the silence was deafening. He slowly let go of your legs and now he was facing you. He held onto your waist and he was looking at you with so much desire in his eyes which you've never seen before. Or maybe you were just blind.
"Checo, I don't kn..."
"I want you. I want you right here and right now. If you don't want me, you can go but I can't do this anymore."
You wasn't sure what was he talking about, but as you saw his desperate face, without a second thought you ran your fingers through his wet hair, over his neck and placing it on his chest. You looked at him and you could feel the need for him inside of you. You didn't answer, but kissed him. The kiss was passionate, eager it felt like the two of you were waiting for this for ages. And maybe that was the truth, but you didn't care at that moment, you didn't want answers, you just wanted him, every part of him.
You felt his hand on your ass, so you crossed your leg around him again, but now facing him, your lips didn't part for a second, and you were heading towards the side of the pool. You felt the cold stone hitting your back and he started to attack your neck, slowly going down to your breasts. Meanwhile your fingers were in his hair slightly pulling it and you could feel now his hardening cock between your legs.
"Not here." You hoped he heard what you said because you were panting really hard.
"Yeah..."
Somehow you were managed to get out of the pool and heading towards your room. As soon as you made it inside, you were on each other again, and he was taking you to your bed.
You were kissing again, but now he was rubbing your clit through your wet underwear.
"God, even if we were in the pool I could feel how wet are you for me, cariño."
You were surprised by his dirty talk, you've never imagined him like this, but oh, you loved it.
"Mhm yeah, it's just for you, you make me feel like this." You heard him groaning at your words, and he pulled away the piece of clothes covering your pussy, his fingers now running through your wet folds.
You were moaning into his mouth, trying to pull him as close as possible.
He pushed two fingers inside you, slowly moving them in and out, his tongue now circling your nipple. He felt confident from your reaction, but also a little impatient and more needy so he increased the pace. You felt that your orgasm is close, so you warned him.
"Oh fuck, Checo I'm gonna cum, please..."
"Come on baby, cum on my fingers, let me see your beautiful body shaking from the pleasure."
He didn't need to ask twice, you came undone quickly. He was kissing you as you slowly came back from your high, he already pulled his fingers out of you so you grabbed his hand and put them into your mouth licking off all the mess you made.
He was amazed by your actions and he looked at you like you were the most perfect woman in the world.
"I would love to see what you can do with that beautiful mouth of yours, but I want my cock inside you more."
"Yes...please."
"Please what? Tell me what you want."
"I...I want you to fuck me."
He didn't want to wait any longer, so he got rid of his pants quickly and placed himself between your legs. He was caressing your thigh with one hand while he placed his cock at your entrance with the other. He slowly pushed himself inside you and you were both moaning at the sensation.
"Yes cariño, you taking me so well." he said as he adjusted the rythm.
"It feels so good, don't stop." It was barely louder than a whisper, but you were surprised that you could speak, as you were already seeing stars.
You were both a moaning and groaning mess, hands all over each other, trying to explore every part of each others' body, you scratching his back and he holding your leg with one hand and your waist with the other.
You could feel that he was close too, shutting his eyes closed and increasing the pace.
"Checo, fuck... I'm so close."
"Yeah baby me too... be a good girl and cum on my cock."
You immediately reached your high again, and he followed you, painting your walls with his cum. No one had ever made you feel like this before, everything felt right and perfect, like you were made for each other.
You were trying to catch your breath as you layed in your bed together, looking at each other with tired but sparkling eyes. You wanted to ask him what did he mean when he said he can't do this anymore, but you wanted to enjoy this moment with him.
"Shower?" he asked.
"Yeah... I feel dirty."
"I have no clue why is that." he laughed. "Can I join you?"
"Please, it would be my pleasure."
"Well, it will be, I have some ideas."
You chuckled and grabbed his hand to pull him into the bathroom. Maybe tomorrow will be a better time to discuss this situation as you felt it's gonna be a long and eventful night.
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curvylizzie · 1 year
Text
I’m massive
It all started about 7 months ago. It was so sudden too! This 6’7 guy and I hooked up at a party in college, after a hot night of sex with petty much a giant I never saw him again. This asshole…. After a month or so I realized my period was late. It’s never late. I went directly to the nearest pharmacy. I was so nervous that I had to stop for some fast food. What kind? The greasiest, most filling, most oily burgers In town. Either way, I bought a pregnancy test and sure enough.. I was pregnant… me, Tiffany… the 4’9 girl with black hair, always dressed in nice cardigans and tank tops, with jeans and my books in my hands. I was pregnant with the baby of a 6’7 giant dude… who knows what kind of bay he was!! I was so sure I was gonna become huge! This guy was probably some sort of 15lbs mega baby! And now I’m growing his offspring inside me! it was surreal! What was the next thing I did? I ordered a pizza, an Xlarge extra cheese extra peperoni pizza to go for myself. I tend to eat a lot in stressful situations and I knew this was not gonna be easy.
I called my bestie, jessie. For all I knew she was the only person there for me now
“Hey jessie…”
“Hey tiff, what’s up?”
“Can we... meet up at my house? I gotta tell you something.”
“Sure sweetie, Ill be there at 6 after work”
What was I going to do! I drove home and simply sat on the couch while eating my pizza. I kept thinking about this super baby growing inside me… oh fuck what if it was twins!!!! Can I even carry 2 15-pound babies!?
The thoughts kept racing through my head and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.. I’m 4’9! I’m gonna look huge before my third trimester! What the hell!
As I finished the pizza, the door rang. It was jessie. I got up from my seat, I was stuffed at the time I remember. Every thought in my mind was pointing at the fact that I’m gonna become huge
“j-jessie..”
“tiff what’s wrong? You’re scaring me”
“come on in..”
We both sat on the couch, and I had in my hand the pregnancy test and showed it to her
“omg sweetie! You’re pregnant?!”
“y-yeah…”
“who’s the father?”
“remember Sean? The guy I hooked up last month with?”
“the giant dude? The one that could probably pick you up with his hands?”
“yeah….”
“omg…. Well..holy… shit…”
I nodded, she’s right… I don’t even know if I’ll b able to birth them properly! They might have to open me. Although there is something I won’t be able to deny for long. I’m about to get absolutely massive.
I didn’t even know how I was gonna deal with it. And what if they were twins?! What would happen if I was growing this giant’s super babies?! Fuck!! I’m only a short girl!
My fear wasn’t without reason, the next few weeks I noticed my bump growing, and not at a slow rate. After only 3 weeks I was already showing a small bump. When I went for my first ultra sound after only 2 months, I was already having trouble fitting in my clothes. The baby inside me kept me constantly hungry too so eating was a must. I probably kept stuffing myself for those 2 months every day. I know more than half of the weight I put on was not baby weight.
“nnnngh!! Get. Pass. My. Giant. Butt you stupid jeans!!! Nnghphh…” getting my favorites jeans to fit was a constant struggle, my thighs had become huge. A single one was as thick as both my skinny thighs together.
“come onnnnnnn… why won’t this shirt cover me!!!” my belly was getting amazingly big every day. My shirts were barely able to cover me past my belly button and still my underbelly would be in the wide open. I was fast becoming a pregnant cow eating a sandwich while waddling down the street.
My second ultra sound was the big one. It’s where I found out something I was suspecting after a few months.
“good afternoon miss… Wolfson? That’s a peculiar name..”
“it’s a made up name doc… I changed it..”
“oh that explains it.. well how is momma-to-be today?”
“massive..”
“I can see that and I can see you’re only 3 months in? it’s certainly normal to be your size when you have multiples, specially if you’ve been eating”
“wait… multiples?” I didn’t know what he meant by that! How can I carry more than one 15lbs baby?!
“sure! You didn’t think you were only having one did you? Let me get the machine set up” he moved around the bed getting the ultrasound machine and using the probe to rub this gel on my tum. My belly button was already having a hard time being shallow, soon it would pop. But what worried me were my boobs who went from a b cup all the way to a double D after only 4 months. Still my belly was the one thing that was big enough to cover my feet eliminating any hope I would see them again.
As he used the probe moving it around an image started appearing.
“there I see one head…. 2…”
“2?! Doc are you sure?”
“oh yes and.. oh? Look number 3!”
“3?! Doc I can’t ne carrying three babies!”
“no you’re right because I’m seeing baby number 4 right there”
4!!! 4 babies! Four massive babies growing inside my 4’9 body!! How the hell! He must have had some super sperm or something! Because ain’t no way I was carrying 4 over developed babies!
“d-doc… are you sure?”
“yeah and I think that’s it. Well given your condition you’re gonna have to go into a strict diet and make sure your babies are well fed. At the end of the line you might have to adjust your house or apartment If you don’t have a nurse in order to move around. It can certainly be a challenge and you will most likely be bed bound by the end of it. So please do take necessary precautions to prevent anything from happening”
I could not believe it… I was carrying 4… and not from some skinny 5’7 guy, these were from a 6’7 massive dude that I could tell he was some sort of mutant super baby! And I’m carrying 4 of him!
I immediately went to the first fast food place I could find and ordered 5 of the biggest burger meals they had. Why? Because I need to eat!
My belly was already massive I front of me, but as I ate my belly button started to show up, my shirt riding over it and people just staring. I guess it’s not everyday you see a super pregnant girl eat in public like this.
the more the months passed, the more I grew not only my bump but I also started getting fatter. Way fatter than what I should be. My arms started developing fat around them, my thighs and ass grew and grew more but my belly stuck out so far in front of my it rubbed against the steering wheel of my car every time I drove. It was also getting hard getting through door frames. The skinny 4’9 girl soon became a 300lbs brood mother carrying 60lbs of pure babies.
At my 7 month, it was already getting hard enough to walk around at all. My bump towered over me each morning. All I could see was this mountain of flesh on top of me, my boobs almost smothered me in my sleep. I could not see them but I could tell I started leaking a lot. Not only that but getting around my belly to satisfy my needs was getting to be a challenge too. I had to fit a remote-control vibrator to my bed and lay on it if I needed some release.
I went to see jessie on one occasion, she was so In love with this new form of mine every time we saw each other she would rub lotion on me and talk to my babies about anything.
“oh this one time, your mommy was at the gym and she had a treadmill running competition, she ran 25km in less time that it takes you guys to kick~”
“jessie.. please don’t make them kick… they get rowdy when they start.. and it’s uncomfortable”
“I know.. but I love seeing a kick here and there~…”
At that moment one of them kicked at the surface near my belly button where jessie was and her head went for a joy ride
“aaah!~ haiiii baby! It’s me, aunt jessie!!”
“uuugh…. i.. I think I should be going..”
“okay, just take care of the babies please~”
As I got to the door I notice how close I was to the frame, my figure could barely pass through it. It’s… fuck it’s amazing.
I got into my car, sliding the seat as far back as I could and still my belly was touching the steering wheel. Driving like this was pretty uncomfortable but there was a certain kinky element to it. In the last ew months as I kept growing I’ve been getting more and more in love with my own figure. Every bite, every inconvenience like reaching the top counter or squirming in bed to try and get up was such a turn on that I was staring to get horny at the littlest things.
When I got home I looked into my bag and the horror happened
“w-where are my keys?! D-did I leave them at jessie? i… I don’t wanna drive all the way back, she would probably keep me there another hour…”
In a panic I looked around and saw that my window was open, so I jumped (“jumped”) the bush, waddled myself to my window and opened it. I threw in my purse first with my phone in it. Then as quicky as I got the idea I also did the brilliant thing of trying to get through the window. Yeah, massive quad girl with 350lbs of blubber which 75lbs were just baby was trying to get through a window. That would obviously work (sarcasm)
“nnngh.. c-come on!!! Hhhmpppfff!! Nnngh aaaah!! Get through dammit!!” I kept pulling myself through and I probably should not have done it because eventually… I got stuck…
“aaaumpf!!! G-get assed it come one!! Nnnghpppppppffff aaaha!! Nnngh!” my belly was in all display trying to get through. My ass was sticking through my jeans more than any other time and I could tell my neighbours were looking at me.
Suddenly my babies inside me started shifting, as if they knew mommy needed to squeeze through
“aammmmpppff.. mmmmphph t-that’s it babies.. aahaa.. f-fuck stop moving that much!” the moves and kicks did turn me on severely, so much that if someone passed by and saw my ass sticking out, decide to have their way with me? I would probably beg for it.
“nnnnnngh.. o-okay almost there.. mmmmmmpphh… aaha gggggrrrrrnnnnn”
And just like that the movement inside me was enough to get me passed the tight window. When I did get inside I was so damm horny I desperately tried to get my hands down there. The first thing I did was head straight to the fridge, get something to drink like a weight shake and laid on bed right on top of the vibrator. I hoped to fuck it had batteries because I was not getting up anymore… in fact.. I don’t think I would be able to in about a week..
A request I’ve been meaning to write but never found the time for it. Here it is and I hope you all enjoy it
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angstyaches · 9 months
Note
hii could we please get a sick ryan because she ate something stupid (thinking about the time she stole nancys cookies heheh) with nancy as the caretaker? i miss them sm :)🍄
You also requested something Ryan-centric for this post, quite a while ago, so I've combined the two.
Word Count: 4,400+
CW (PLEASE READ): species-based food intolerance, nausea, vomiting, bad self-talk, behaviour which could be interpreted as harmful to the self so please proceed with caution and be gentle with yourselves 🖤
___
“I feel my gratitude must, once again, be expressed,” Ryan said, distracting herself with words while her knife pressed down on her stack of green leaves, tomato slices, chicken, and dressing. This chaotic arrangement had somehow cost more than an entire cow used to cost in the equivalent currency. She supposed she remained indoors far too often, if culture shock could still manage to creep up on her out of nowhere.
Her lunch companion raised her eyebrows as she chewed. She had ordered clam chowder and bread, much to Ryan’s quiet and resigned dismay. Exposure to the smells of food were a challenge for her senses to begin with, but it was a special kind of hell when seafood became involved. To make things worse, she had clams and prawns and whatever else was hauled in off the coast of Portrush had once delighted her beyond reason.
To be sickened by something once loved brought an especially bittersweet tang to her mouth. She could almost hear the crashing waves, the tinkle of little Silas’s laughter –
“For… what?” Mrs. Waters pondered innocently.
“For… inviting me to convene with you over your afternoon meal,” Ryan clarified, giving a slight shake of her head. She would have to limit the extent of her olfactory indulgences as much as possible. “I understand that your schedule must come with an abundance of restrictions –”
The trickle of discomfort in Mrs. Waters’ eyes made Ryan’s words halt on her tongue. She was being too formal. She knew that. Well, she hadn’t known that. But she knew that now.
Or perhaps it was the way Ryan’s jaw threatened to rebel against her every time she lifted the fork to her mouth, her tongue becoming awash with acrid saliva. The way she chewed as though she could somehow stop the food from touching the surfaces inside her mouth. Like a fool.
Like an utter fool.
“It was really no bother at all,” Mrs. Waters assured Ryan, eyeing her bowl of soup as she carefully lifted a spoonful towards her lips. Ryan wasn’t sure if the woman was of a generally nervous disposition, or if it was Ryan, specifically, who was making her nervous. “To be honest, I was a bit anxious to meet you. My Charlie is basically working for you right now.”
“I see,” Ryan said, poking at a chunk of tomato with her fork. It wept a sickly pink juice under the pressure of the tine. She wasn’t sure she was satisfied with the idea that the young Mr. Waters was working for her; she had thought that allowing him to continuing living on the property had been a generous gesture, not a job offer.
Indeed, he would be keeping an eye on the structural integrity of the building and preventing the odd build-up of dust and grime, but didn’t most mortals perform these duties within their dwellings –?
“Not – not that I was afraid you were some kind of weirdo or anything!” Mrs. Waters exclaimed.
“Ah.”
Half a second later, Mrs. Water’s gave a nervous chuckle, which told Ryan that she should be chuckling too, and certainly shouldn’t have given a deadpan, one-word answer. To avoid having to make up for it now, she loaded her mouth full of vinegared leaves, the texture and flavours lost in a sea of tingling, unpleasant numbness between her jaws.
The sensation came on so fast that it felt like a spike had been driven down through the top of her head, its point grating at the base of her tongue. The intensity shocked her somewhat, which was a good thing; if not for the shock, she might have started in her seat and instantly spewed her food back out onto the table.
As things stood, her jaw had clenched and her lips had mashed up tightly together.
“So, you’re looking to move out to the countryside?” Mrs. Waters asked.
Ryan’s eyes were somehow dry, yet also stinging with tears.
She made a show of puffing out her cheeks and pointing towards her closed lips to buy herself more time to chew. More time to… suffer through chewing. Every cell in her body wanted to spray the wet, slippery greens as far as they would go. Her inherently liquid diet didn’t often require her jaws or her back teeth to do much work, beyond the initial slicing into the flesh of a live pray, of course. It was oddly tedious and repetitive work.
Not to mention her guts were practically revolting in protest already. Before she’d turned immortal – more immortal than most other immortals, in fact – Ryan had lived through more diseases than many creatures who still roamed the earth, and she didn’t appreciate the reminder of what sickness could feel like.
But none of that mattered. The current situation called for her to be sociable. There was no room for anything else.
The story was that she was planning to move to the countryside with her partner, who suffered from a rare lung disease and would benefit from a fresher kind of air than the stuff readily available in the suburbs. They were planning on adopting two rescue dogs, and as soon as they were settled in, Ryan planned to take back up her long-lost hobby of painting portraits of animals in Colonial-style dress. This last detail had been Ryan’s own contribution to the charade, and Nancy had raised an eyebrow at it.
The more seemingly innocuous drivel included, the more convincing the fabrication, Ryan had assured her wife, and when it seemed as though Nancy had been about to protest, Ryan had done what she generally did when Nancy was about to protest. She’d kissed her on the mouth.
She couldn’t quite tell Mrs. Waters the truth, that the house her son resided in was plagued by the densest swarm of demons the world over, or that her son himself was possessed by a demon, or that Ryan was monitoring him for fear he’d caught the attention of the most dangerous immortal on the planet.
These were simply not appropriate lunchtime topics of discussion.
“Well… that’s exciting,” Mrs. Waters smiled. She smiled more with the left side of her mouth than the right. “Can I ask why? Are you just… looking for a change, or is there a job…?”
Ryan’s lips trembled, and she wanted to smack them to make them behave. Her lungs gulped in air, despite her efforts to refrain from excessive breathing, as she swallowed the foul mouthful. It gurgled in her throat, her internal muscles twitching and spasming as it was forced down, into a stomach that felt how she imagined Felix’s did when he had to watch a creature being slaughtered.
With a disdainful curl to her lip, Ryan certainly hoped she didn’t look the way Felix did when he had to watch an animal being slaughtered.
Below the table, her stomach burbled.
She pressed a poised finger to her lips, stifled an indigestive burp, and nodded in response to Ingrid’s question. “Well, my partner, you see, has a rather uncommon lung condition…”
___
Ryan sat in her car long for an excessive amount of time after arriving home. The shadows that had descended as the garage door closed behind her had felt like a blanket encircling her shoulders, shrouding her from the prying eyes of the world. The sensation disgusted her. Ryan never had need for blankets or warmth or self-pity.
And as soon as her defences went down, they went down. Hard. The cogs in her brain began to analyse every moment of the interaction, criticise every facial expression, pick apart every selected word, twist at every hum of agreement.
Even the fact that she was sitting in her car, emotionally paralysed, told her that she, herself, needed improvement. If spending the afternoon with a human person could take this much of a toll on her, then she was in dire need of… practice. Exposure. She had once attended Lions Club meetings and taken painting lessons; perhaps it was time to explore those options again. Spend some time with beings other than witches and vampires and… others.
Ryan rested a hand against her abdomen as she pressed her spine into the car seat, feeling a rather violent tension pushing against the buttons of her crisp white shirt. Her stomach was bubbling and squelching away, as though it thought its sluggish efforts would achieve anything close to digestion.
She used the heel of her hand to knead the space beneath her ribs where her meagre meal sat like a thick slime. The wretched organ might as well have been a dried-up clay pot, for all the good it was doing her.
And yet, no matter how many strategies and recalculations spun through her brain, she couldn’t see how she could have excused herself entirely from eating. She could have implied that she was on a diet, or taking medications that limited her mealtime options, but she couldn’t see Mrs. Waters reacting well to either of those. Well, why on earth did you agree to a meeting over lunch? She would have been too polite to say this, but Ryan knew she would have been thinking it. She was thinking it herself.
Thinking about Shayne, Ryan wondered if Mrs. Waters would have felt guilt for eating her lunch if Ryan hadn’t also ordered something. If she’d learned anything from her latest protégé, it was that mortals had the fascinating ability to feel guilt over the most inevitable of their human needs.
Luckily, Ryan was not a human.
And she had things to do.
She drew her shoulders back, released the tension in her stomach - the result was an even tighter press against the buttons of her shirt, but she could ignore it - and opened the car door.
___
As she entered her study after a slow ascent of the stairs, Ryan’s stomach was snarling like a small animal attempting to assert its dominance. She gritted her teeth and bore down on her abdomen with her knuckles. If anything in there wanted out, it should… well, it should make haste. While she usually preferred to shut the door to the upstairs hallway, Ryan left it ajar today, so that she could make a brisk exit to the bathroom when the time came.
Grrrlllrrrgghh.
Ryan listened to the distressed gurgling with a muted sense of contempt. If her stomach was so unhappy with its contents, why hadn’t she thrown up already? She didn’t have all day to wait around for it to happen. Two hundred years, and two transformations later, and it seemed her earthly form was still not without its flaws.
So concerned was she with her despondent gut that she wasn’t even aware that the thrum of Nancy’s footsteps had taken a route from the bedroom to the study, and the soft knock on the doorframe made her heart jump into her raw, delicate throat.
Nancy poked her head around the door with a soft, almost slow-motion swish of her ponytail. “Oh, you’re home!”
“Nothing gets past you, does it, my love?”
“Oh, enough of that,” Nancy tsked, tugging on Ryan’s hand and pulling her about to plant a kiss on her lips.
Ryan softened a little, overcome with relief that she wasn’t married to another vampire. Despite her fantastical abilities, Nancy’s senses – the five main ones, that is – were as dull as the average mortal’s. She wouldn’t detect the scent of salad on Ryan’s breath, so long as Ryan didn’t exhale near her. Therefore, it was a very chaste, brief kiss that they shared.
“How did it… Ryan?” Nancy gasped as she stood back, holding a hand to her mouth as though to quiet herself. “Why do you look like death warmed over?”
Ryan curled her lip as she stalked over to her desk. She thumped the documents onto the wood. “I did not think this was news to you, Nan, but it did. Two hundred years ago, to be precise.”
“Sweetheart, I meant that you –”
“Yes, yes, thank you, love. Incidentally, you also look radiant this evening,” Ryan murmured. As she slumped into her chair, her stomach gave yet another obnoxious, unproductive grumble. She cleared her throat and gazed across at Nancy.
“Sorry, Ry,” Nancy said, cheeks reddening. Then she swept her hands down the front of her skirts, with an air of starting on a clean slate, as she planted herself in the plush armchair that sat to the side of Ryan’s desk. “How did everything go?”
“Fine.”
“Everything signed?”
“Of course.”
“Wonderful,” Nancy smiled, with a distinct lack of the excitement she’d had at every other point of this endeavour. “What was Charlie’s mum like?”
“Mrs. Waters,” Ryan rather snapped,“was akin to a pleasant, yet overall remarkably ordinary, individual.”
Nancy let out a gentle scoff, once again brushing her hands over her skirts. “Well, don’t overwhelm me with details.”
“I do not know what more to tell you. Except that… I am…” Ryan’s eyes widened as she trailed off. She’d been trailing off an awful lot today, even though it was a habit that irked her in others.
But a tingling, numbing wetness began to fill her mouth at an alarming rate, worse even than when she’d been taking bites of the salad that was prickling at the base of her oesophagus. The air felt like hot soup against her skin, in her lungs.
Why, why couldn’t Nancy have been occupied elsewhere? Now Ryan was obliged to share her discomfort, or continue her silence and risk giving her wife an untimely fright. “I believe I am… ‘bout to experience… emesis.”
Nancy blinked. “You –?”
Ryan’s eyes were wrenched back so hard in her skull that they ached, and her back arched forward so hard that she felt like a doll being pulled by the hair. The wheels of her desk chair rattled as she trundled out of range of anything particularly porous… Her stomach muscles clenched so hard that Ryan – in a moment of hyperbolic weakness – thought that her internal organs might come up through her nose –
And yet, while her senses braced themselves for the wet, clattering sound of stomach contents hitting the tiled floor, nothing came. Ryan swayed between emotional relief and dismay at being denied the physical relief.
“Oh, sweetheart, come,” Nancy murmured, and then her delicate, warm hands were guiding Ryan’s shoulders up and out of the desk chair. “I knew something was off about you. Did you eat?”
“I may have… ingested… a few mouthfuls of leafy matter.”
“A salad?” Nancy could neither have looked nor sounded more horrified if Ryan had hinted towards having had a stick of plutonium for lunch.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“A refusal to ingest would have resulted in…” Ryan slapped a hand to her stomach – silly as it sounded, her instinct seemed to be to try to physically suppress the spread of pain through her insides. “… Suspicion or discomfort.”
Nancy’s lower lip dropped down silently, but Ryan knew her wife well enough to guess what her thoughts were; how can someone with so much wisdom and experience be so stupid?
Thankfully, dear, sweet Nancy spared her the actual voicing of the thought.
“How… How was it?”
Amidst holding down her gorge, and fighting the urge to slump to the floor and take Nancy with her, Ryan managed to muster up a look of derision. She cast it lengthways as she hobbled from the study with her hands clasped on Nancy’s shoulders. Nancy looked back at her with a gormless grimace.
“Right. Never mind.”
___
“It. Refuses. To. Emerge,” Ryan moaned into the toilet bowl.
"Sweetheart," Nancy murmured distractedly.
Ryan flung a hand up in the air, then clapped it against her thigh in a display of finality. “It will never emerge! I shall now persist with rotting vegetation in my tract for the remainder of my existence.”
Nancy gave a light-hearted click of her tongue. “This,” she hummed, “coming from the woman who refuses to give up on a single other person on earth.”
Ryan attempted to spit the sour taste from her mouth, but her excessive saliva had dried up, leaving her with nothing but a tacky residue that clung to her cheeks like cells held together with collagen. If she’d had more spit, maybe the foul contents of her stomach would have slipped up and out of her by now, instead of sticking to her insides like leeches.
“What makes you the one and only hopeless case on this entire planet, hmm?” Nancy’s eyebrows quirked as she focused on something she’d arranged in her lap, nestled in the folds of her skirt. “What makes you so special?”
Ryan sank back from the toilet, though couldn’t quite get her head to remain straight without supporting it against the side of the bowl. She rubbed miserably at her gut; the chances of producing a physiological benefit were low, but she couldn’t fight the instinct to try. Her mood shifted once she’d realised that her wife was concocting something; not hopeful, but lured back from the brink by scientific intrigue.
Her weary eyes skimmed over a couple of ingredients that Nancy had used to throw together potions over the years, though Ryan had never seen them in this combination before. From her knowledge of Nancy’s works, it seemed to her that the result of this project would be rather… well, explosive would be a word for it.
“An elixir,” Ryan murmured, “to induce emesis?”
“Mmhmm,” Nancy’s voice pulsed in her throat, as though parting her lips to answer would have been too much of a distraction.
Disappointment clouded Ryan’s curiosity, rendering it difficult not to sink into the pains in her stomach, not to feel them so completely that everything else dimmed once again. “It will not be effective on me.”
“What if I told you I have added one very special ingredient,” Nancy said, raising one sardonic eyebrow, “for one very special lady?”
“I would remind you,” Ryan muttered, “that I am not merely a special ‘lady’, but an organism of unnatural qualities, including a resistance to the potency of –”
“In that case, you would have nothing to lose, isn’t that correct, my love?”
Ryan snatched the vial with what was probably excessive force and knocked back the liquid. Something stirred in her memory as she gulped, as though her taste buds had somewhat drifted out of slumber, just for a nanosecond. Mostly, she enjoyed how cool the fluid was as it snaked down her burning throat and carved its steady way down towards her stomach.
“It,” she spat, mouth dry as she lowered the vial, “will be ineffective.”
Nancy wore a patient smile almost as well as she wore a sweetheart neckline. More impressively, even, for Ryan knew that Nancy’s reserves of patience did not run as deep as their boys, or her students, thought. That patient smile was a thing of fine craftsmanship.
“If so,” she said softly, “I apologise. But wasn’t it worth a shot?”
Ryan had to turn her face away to avoid the humbling light of Nancy’s well-fought-for optimism. Her stomach rumbled in acknowledgment of its latest arrival, confirmed even further by a vibration through Ryan’s hand. “I suppose so.”
Nancy stretched her arms above her head, tilting her folded knees to keep her equipment and ingredients from rolling over the tiled floor. “Whew. I for one am mighty tired of this floor, Ry. Mind if we move you to the bed with a bucket instead?”
___
Bed and bucket proved a mundane combination to an immortal woman with work on the brain and an immovable lump in her stomach.
Ryan lay slumped on her side, face right at the edge of the bed so that she could keep an eye on her designated bucket, for so long that the sun set behind the curtains. About six kilometres away, a cricket began to shriek, adding itself to the din of the city. The world moved on, progressed, thrived, while Ryan lay overwhelmed with nausea, unable to digest or eject the offending food.
And yet her stomach continued to grumble its discomfort.
Nancy had stayed awake with her, fondling her hair in a way that reminded Ryan just vaguely of being fussed over by her mother. She wasn’t certain if the memory was welcome or not, and tried to let it wash over her like the tide. Nancy had also massaged Ryan’s back for a while which, whilst failing to dislodge the knots in her stomach, had done wonders for the tension in her muscles.
Gghhhhrrrlllgghh.
“Ssshh,” Ryan hissed, pressing her knuckles harshly against her stomach muscles. The pressure evidently would offer no help in inducing vomiting, but there was nothing to say a little aggression wouldn’t discourage the infuriating noises that continued to –
“Ry,” Nancy chided, closing her fingers around Ryan’s fist and guiding it halfway across the bed. She pressed Ryan's wrist into the top sheet, far away from where it could do any more persuading. “Please don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“It is wearing on my nerves like –”
“I don’t care.” Nancy’s tone prodded at the fog of nausea and rage, and Ryan caught glimpse of herself through her wife’s eyes. “You’re wearing on mine with this nonsense. You’ve put your body through an ordeal already today, and now is the time to let it recover in whatever way it needs. Isn't that the wise thing to do?"
She exhaled noisily through her nose – was that a snort of amusement? – as Ryan’s stomach gurgled and bubbled a few inches from her elbow. Ryan’s brain flared with annoyance, which she quickly threw some reins on.
“Perhaps.”
“There is no ‘perhaps’,” Nancy said. “But you’re already suffering enough bodily, so I won’t put you through the mental torture of admitting that I'm right."
Ryan hummed in appreciation. Nancy didn't let up on her hand, so Ryan eventually turned her palm upwards so that their fingers could interlock. She almost found herself drifting off to sleep when she realised Nancy had shifted and slipped her hand away. Ryan felt her tug a wisp of Ryan's silvery-blonde hair back from her face, heard her wife holding her breath in a way that invited conversation.
“Yes?” Ryan had slurred before Nancy had even spoken.
“Will you try taking a second dose?”
It took Ryan longer than she was proud to admit to realise that Nancy was talking about the elixir she’d concocted earlier. If she thought about it hard enough, Ryan was sure that she could still feel the cool, slightly sticky medicine sitting alongside the offending mush in the pit of her stomach. Not making anything worse, but certainly not improving anything.
Ryan grunted. “I do not think it will –”
“Let me rephrase,” Nancy interrupted. “I have a second dose for you, and I strongly suggest you take it.”
With an even more aggressive grunt, Ryan hauled herself into a somewhat-upright position. It would be easier to take the useless potion than to incite further argument. She winced as the sudden movement made it feel as though her intestines were poised to crack inside of her.
“Give it to me,” she deadpanned, but Nancy was already un-stoppering the vial for her. Ryan slurped it back, fueled by nothing but the assuredness that this was not going to work, and was astonished to find herself licking her lips as soon as she’d swallowed. Even more bizarre, she found herself anticipating the smooth sensation of the medicine coursing down her throat, cooling and almost pleasant in its –
It stuck. It stuck, like a rock in the centre of her chest.
Ryan swallowed again, her posture turning rigid. She was only vaguely aware of Nancy’s hand coming up to rest on her waist.
A bubble of pressure slipped into the back of Ryan’s throat, and her stomach muscles jolted, resulting in a high-pitched exclamation and a thunderous, sloshing gurgle.
And then a belch.
A deep one, one that she felt reverberate under her lower left rib. The moment had a faint gloss of eureka to it, like she’d made a world-changing discovery, but at its core was a pit of dread, like she’d made a world-ending discovery.
She shuddered, torn halfway between turning towards the edge of the bed and turning to face her wife in disbelief.
“What… what’d you –?”
"Don't worry about it, cookie."
"But..."
In her desperate curiosity, Ryan almost choked on a mouthful of vomit. She would have ejected it all over the bedroom floor, had Nancy not laid gentle hands on the sides of her head and directed the spray downwards. There was a conveniently-placed bucket beside the bed, primed to catch and contain her vomit.
The bulk of it, at least.
As the retch had lost momentum, a small wave of thick slime had dripped from Ryan’s lower lip, hitting the floorboards between the bed and the bucket with a weighty thwop.
“Wonderful,” Ryan choked out, swiping her chin with the back of her hand. She barely had time to consider where she was going to wipe said hand when her guts gave another powerful lurch.
This time, a delicate hand slipped across the bed and tugged the rim of the bucket closer to Ryan’s side of the mattress. Nancy’s chest and stomach brushed softly against Ryan’s back.
“Great job,” Nancy murmured softly.
Ryan would have scoffed, if she’d been able to catch her breath. Great job? Great job suffering through the consequences of a bad decision? Great job smearing the hardwood with her gastric juices? She was not a child; even a child shouldn’t have been praised for anything she was doing.
Ryan cried out instinctively as she gagged again, the hollow ring of her voice echoing loudly inside the metal bucket over the gushing and splashing. She felt Nancy’s hands move to her shoulders, fingers lightly massaging the tumultuous muscles there.
"Oh," Ryan sighed as soon as she could get a word in between heaves. The mechanical harmony of clenching muscles and ejected fluids was almost as comforting as her wife's touch. After all, what could be more reassuring than the knowledge that one's body is working as it should?
"Better?" Nancy whispered, using her pinky to fish a pale curl away from the edge of Ryan's mouth.
Ryan hung her head over the side of the mattress, slack-jawed, unwilling to close her mouth and risk inhibiting further substance elimination. Nancy shifted her hands as though to hold her in place, and although she wasn't, Ryan found she was rather enjoying the illusion.
"Yes," she slurred, though she knew her ordeal was far from over. "Ineffably so."
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arysthaeniru · 2 months
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For the ask thing- Revolutionary Girl Utena- I saw you like it and I need more people to scream with lol
Yessss, Utena's a perfect media, haha!!!
Favourite Character
So difficult to decide! I think it has to be Anthy though. I love her, I love how vicious she is, I love how petty she is, and I love how funny she can be. I find myself always so excited by imagining the future, what Anthy's personality develops into when she leaves the garden.
Least Favourite Character
I mean. The correct answer is Akio, but actually, I think Ruka. Ruka is all of Akio's manipulation and lies, but he's stupid enough to actually lie to himself that the girl he tried to break for two episodes actually could fall in love with him. At least Akio never deludes himself into that.
5 Favourite Ships
Utena/Anthy - Duh. No notes, 10/10, liberatory lesbian love
Juri/Wakaba - I really like the idea of Juri finding real kindness and joy in Wakaba, and Wakaba finding somebody who thinks of her as her most special thing.
Juri/Anthy - Not as one of those ships that's cute and good, but one of those ships where they would be a destructively horrible trainwreck, but I find myself fascinated by it. My characterization of Juri is never good enough to do this, so the past three Yuletides, I've been trying to get my gifter to write me the year that Akio decided Juri would be the one who keeps Anthy as a Rose Bride? I think that would have been an unmitigated, fascinating disaster.
Saionji/Touga - Honestly, this one goes either way, in that I like the idea of them maybe leaving Ohtori themselves at one point, and learning how to have a non-toxic relationships to each other? But also, I LOVE the idea of them just stuck in Akio's nightmare play, getting worse and worse and being more and more horrible to each other.
Nanami/Freedom, get her out of there. Be free.
(bonus) Nanami/Kozue - Two things make me consider this intriguing pairing. One, the contrasted imagery they both have, where Kozue is the free bird, the wild animal snarling her way out of the cage, as Nanami as the cow, the domesticated. What does it mean for Nanami to encounter Kozue's philosophy? But also Nanami who drowns the kitten that draws Touga's attention, and Kozue as the one who saves the baby bird, even at her own expense. Something something, compassion, adoration, self-preservation. Fun contrasts! I feel like they would hate each other at first, but find something genuinely transformative in the other. Also they both love Miki.
Character I find most attractive
Juri. The long hair, the fencing, the way she can go both high-femme and pretty butch? Queen.
Character I would marry
Wakaba. I feel like she'd genuinely try to take care of me, and also I would fucking adore her. She's so cute. She's the sort of person you could hang out with for a really long time, and I value that in a person.
Character I Would Be Best Friends With
Tragically, probably Miki. Very similar interests, and as much as I would shake my head at the way he places the girls he likes on pedestals and then demonizes them if they ever tumble off that pedestal, he would also shake his head at my tendency to avoid all my problems like the plague.
(Canon OTP is obviously Utena/Anthy, and non canon is Nanami/Kozue.)
Pairing I Am Not a Fan Of
Obviously, all of the incest ones, but honestly, I'm pretty meh on Shiori/Juri. A fascinating dynamic when done correctly, but when people write stuff about them in the future where everything's fine and they don't have tension between them...IDK. I think it's important to me that even without the homophobic pressure of Ohtori trapping them both, that Juri has created this false image of Shiori in the same way that Miki does for Kozue, and that Juri doesn't really know Shiori very well, in the end, because of her inability to ever really recognize Shiori's jagged edges. I think that would haunt their relationships, even if they tried to be together, how much Juri doesn't actually see or understand Shiori's inner personality.
Most badass character
Anthy.
Character I feel the Writers Screwed Up
Mikage! While I LOVE the aesthetic and thematic focuses of the Black Rose Arc, I think they don't quite knock it out of the park with Mikage. I wish Mikage was a more interesting mirror to Utena, but his devotion to Mamiya just doesn't feel like it's in a strong conversation with Utena's relationship to Anthy, which I think was a missed opportunity! I would have loved to see more about Mikage's obliviousness, where he knows something is wrong but shrugs it off for one more day. Or I feel like pushing further into the idea of Mikage being a prodigy who is out of his depth as a parallel to Utena which doesn't get explored very much. Idk...after such an incredible slate of character episodes, I remember being pretty disappointed at the climax of Black Rose Arc!
Favourite Friendship
Miki&Nanami! I think they keep each other mostly in check! Miki can sometimes shame Nanami into not showing off her mean girl instincts, and Nanami's a lot more savvy and cunning than Miki is, which helps keep him away from self-loathing spirals, or being taken advantage of. They're fun together!
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wip tease
i got an ask about childhood friends to lovers klance and i got SO carried away with it so here’s a piece of the fic. 
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Lance cries a lot. More than Keith has ever known anyone to cry. He cries every time they watch Bridge to Terabithia (which is frequently, and he also made Keith pinky swear the first time they saw it to never swing over an overflowing stream in the spring). He cries when he sees someone kill a bug (at least three times a week). He cries when Keith has to go back from his house to the group home (he won’t tell anyone, but Keith kind of likes that Lance is so sad about Keith going back. He doesn’t like that Lance is sad, of course, but he likes feeling wanted. It’s nice).
One place where Lance doesn’t cry so often anymore is the supermarket, though. Keith vividly remembers the first time he had gone with Lance and Marcela one Saturday morning — Lance had made up a whole silly song about running errands with his mom (he still hums is every time they go. Keith won’t tell Lance — he’ll get all smug about it — but he finds it kind of funny).
It had started out fine. Marcela opened up her grocery list (it was really long, Keith noticed. He imagined it unrolling to the floor and bouncing down the aisles, like in the movies), idly narrating to the boys what they needed. 
“And, if you two are good, I’ll get you a treat,” she’d promised. Lance lit right up, immediately chattering about all the different candies and chocolate bars they could get. Keith wasn’t yet sure if he should get his hopes up. 
Everything was fine for the first twenty minutes. Lance started up their space game, and they pretended every other shopper was a trickster alien pirate in a space mall, and they had to pretend to be one of them to get special parts for the castle spaceship. Marcela found their game amusing, and occasionally piped up with suggestions. Keith particularly liked her idea where they had to use ‘disguises’ consisting of silly hats and sunglasses from the clothes department. But after those twenty minutes, Marcela turned the cart into the meat aisle, and Keith saw Lance’s chin start to tremble.
Oh, boy.
You see, Lance loves all animals. All of ‘em. He likes the birds and the cats and the cows and the fish. He especially likes bugs (he even likes mosquitoes, which Keith thinks is bonkers. Lance isn’t the first person he’s met who likes bees or spiders, but he’s the first person he’s met who’d rather endure a mosquito bite than kill the stupid pest). He loves them enough that the idea of killing and eating them makes him incredibly sad. And looking at meat… never bodes well for him.
Marcela sighs quietly, having likely anticipated the tears, and Keith gets an idea.
“Mrs. Marcela,” he started politely (she won’t let him call her Mrs. Esposita-McClain, but he’s not comfortable enough to drop the title. So they compromised), “can Lance and I take a piece of the grocery list and go get them for you? And then we can meet up with you later?”
Marcela glanced over at Lance, who was staring forlornly at the beef with watery eyes, and back at Keith. A slow smile spread across her face.
“Do you have your watch on you?”
Keith nodded, holding up his wrist.
“Okay, then. Watch my purse for a sec.” 
Keith dutifully stood by the cart and her purse, reaching over to pat Lance gently on the head without looking. Marcela stepped over to the end of the aisle, grabbing one of those plastic grocery baskets, and hurried back.
“Here,” she said, handing Keith the basket. She tore off a piece of the grocery list and gave him that as well. “You boys go grab what’s on that list. Meet me at the self-checkout in 25 minutes. Don’t talk to strangers except for employees, and even then, only if you have to. Okay?”
Keith nodded, tugging Lance along to the first aisle he sees. Lance sniffled, turning to face Keith for the first time. 
“Where’re we going?”
“To get groceries.”
“What about mamá?”
“She said it’s okay. We have to meet her in 25 minutes, though.”
The independence seemed to light a fuse in Lance, tears evaporating off his face. 
“Really? We get to get the groceries?”
“Some of them,” Keith replied, smiling a little. 
Lance beamed back, and something settled in Keith’s chest. He liked it better when Lance was smiling.
“Woohoo! Let’s go!” He grabbed Keith’s hand and tugged him away, chattering about their ‘new mission’. He was so excited he forgot to say goodbye to Marcela, so Keith waved for both of them. She was laughing.
Twenty-five minutes later (on the dot), they met Marcela at the self-checkout, Lance pointing out all the things they got “…and the cheaper ones, too, we checked the prices and everything —“
Marcela smiled softly, reaching an arm out to pull Keith close with a squeeze. 
“Leandro’s little protector, huh?” she asked, ruffling his hair.
Keith scoffed, about to remind her that only one of them got into regular fistfights in the schoolyard over insults and bullying and it sure as heck wasn’t Keith, but he paused. 
Yeah, Lance was the one who went feral when some idiot at school insulted the two of them. He might be small and scrawny, but he’s certainly scrappy. Ethan was not the first or last time Lance made someone bleed (he tended to bite). Lance is the one who comes up with revenge to inflict on bullies or mean older kids. Keith’s favourite incident was the time he brought his Nana’s sewing kit and seam ripper to school, along with a container of beaten eggs. He snuck into the classroom during recess, opened the bottom of Nell’s — she was a mean girl who often made horrible comments about Keith’s eyes and Lance’s tendency to wear skirts or pink — backpack, and carefully brushed the beaten eggs all over the fabric. Just enough to cover it, but not soak it. He sewed it back up and stashed the evidence. Over the next few weeks, the eggs in Nell’s bag rotted, but she couldn’t figure out where it was coming from and reeked for days before she finally convinced her parents to get her a new backpack. But by then, the damage was done — she was Smelly Nelly to everyone who knew her. It didn’t exactly stop her teasing, but it certainly made it easier to bear.
But their friendship certainly wasn’t one-sided. Keith might not use his fists, or come up with revenge plans twisted enough to get him sent to the guidance counsellor, but he definitely helped Lance in other ways. He thinks back to every time he wrote down notes for Lance when the lights and sounds were hurting his head and he can’t pay attention. To every time he was a shoulder to cry on, or a distraction.
Maybe he is Lance’s protection, just as much as Lance is his.
“We protect each other,” Keith decided eventually. He’s a little surprised at the conviction in his voice.
Marcela laughs, brushing the mop out of his eyes and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 
“You’re absolutely right, mijo.”
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chickensarentcheap · 8 months
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Sneak peek! With a little visual aid ;)
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@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @mrsmungus @kmc1989 @thebewingedjewelcat @residentdormouse @asirensrage @karimac @themaradwrites @alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar
AFTER THE CUT!
“I’m gonna be a cowgirl! I’m going to wear cool cowgirl clothes and hats and on special days Pumpkin will get her hair braided and her ribbons will match what I’m wearing.”
“You’re going to make a mint.  Beef is a huge business around here. Always in demand.”
Brookie stops dead in her tracks; brow furrowed as she stares up at him incredulously.  “Excuse you, dad! The cows aren’t going to be for eating! Those cows are gonna be my pets! You can’t eat my pets! You wouldn’t let anyone eat Mac or Saju, would you?”
“There’s kind of a big difference in a house pet and beef cattle.”
“Listen, you can get your meat somewhere else. Eat someone else’s cows. Not mine! I swear if any of them go missing and up in the freezer, I’m going to know it was you! And I’m really going to be pissed and I’m not going to talk to you  for a long time. Like a week. Or two! Just to teach you a lesson!”
“Oh man,” he heaves a long, dramatic sigh. “How will I ever cope? A week or two of peace and quiet?”
“Dad…”  Planting a hand on her hip, she cocks her head to the side. “...that is NOT friends!”
“You just told me I can’t eat beef again. I’m a carnivore, damn it.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t eat it ever again! I said you have to get it from someone else!  Eat someone else’s cows. Not mine.  That’s eating your own grandchildren, you know.  That’s the only kids you’re getting from me! Why would you eat them?  You’ll be okay. You’ll find meat somewhere else. Just go to the shops!”
“How did you know ‘carnivore’ means someone that eats meat? You’re only four.”
“It’s ‘cause  I’m smart. Like mum.”
Tyler smirks. “Is that a backhanded way of calling me stupid?”
“You’re smart too, daddy.”  Brookie curls her arms around one of his thighs and leans her hand against him; eyes sparkling mischievously as she grins up at him. “In your own way.”
“You’re a real little shithead, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know!”  With a giggle and a squeeze of his leg, she turns on her heel and skips off into the barn. Pausing only long enough to glance over her shoulder and add, “Mum says I got it from you!”
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themattress · 8 months
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If you want yet another example of why I fucking hate the Pokeani fandom and the two series they hold up as sacred cows (DP and XY), just take a look at the crap that's up on TV Tropes:
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Wow. Notice how literally nothing else about the shows in question (one of which ran for four years and the other for three, meaning there was a lot of content in them) is mentioned at all. Only Ash, and only how skilled/competent/successful as a trainer he is. This single factor dominates the general opinion discourse of the shows in the Pokeani fandom and is what justifies them being named "the best", while other shows like BW and SM (the ones that follow such "tough acts") get constantly put down by comparison. How well Ash works as a self-insert power fantasy is literally all that matters to these clowns. It's so embarrassing.
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Oh, sure - SM fans are the myopic ones! And let's check these "flaws" that those fans are "ignorant" about. "Animation and art style being wasted on comedic expressions instead of battles", "shying away from battling in general" and "many questionable writing decisions in important episodes especially the Alola League", which translates to nitpicks about decisions pertaining to - you guessed it - battles. Those aren't flaws. As a wise girl stated yesterday:
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Of course SM isn't perfect, no series is....but it is absolute lightyears ahead of XY, period.
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More battle stupidity. God, the hard-on these manchildren have for legalized cock-fighting is ridiculous. Fucking Nemona, a battle maniac, is somehow more mature about it than them!
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So Dawn is considered better than May simply for struggling and losing more (the exact same kind of thing they scream bloody murder if it happens to Ash) and not getting wins they'd deem "undeserved", in addition to hogging the spotlight at every opportunity even when it isn't called for - usually for fanservice reasons. Her personality is likable and distinct, though; I'll give her that. While Serena is considered better than Iris (who has no elaboration given as to why she's "one of the least popular female companions" as if the reason doesn't make the fans look good, funny that) because............um, she's more feminine, is in love with Ash, and is given the kind of "arc of Character Development" these fans deem acceptable for a female character (read: a copy of Dawn's). Also, she's not dark-skinned.
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The only objectively true statement in this entire blurb is the Mega Evolution specials being different and enticing. Otherwise: "improved writing" (read: back to DP style formula and safeness and fan pandering rather than really trying to be its own thing that's comfortable in its own skin), "action and battle animation" (read: fan obsession with battling above all else being satisfied), "a much more competent take on Ash" (read: a boring, out-of-character, Mary Sue self-interest power fantasy extraordinaire), "a better balance on having Team Rocket threatening at times while keeping their comedic traits" (read: Team Rocket just behaving downright psychotic), "a likable group of companions and supporting characters" (read: characters who are deemed uniquely "likable" solely for how they prop up Ash), and "a good pacing that averted Arc Fatigue" (this one's half-right, the pacing was largely solid...but averting Arc Fatigue was kind of difficult when for the longest time barely anything substantial was happening in the arc outside of the routine Gym Quest. Ash had no real rivals, Serena took a year to find a goal to pursue, Clemont and Bonnie didn't start getting significant focus or development until the second year, Team Rocket had nothing going on, and plot points that might have been interesting long-running threads like the Evil Malamar went nowhere. How is that an improvement over BW, which objectively had more going on in its first two years?)
Finally, this one piece of honesty:
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Again, I say: I am so fucking glad that Ash has been retired. I get holding an attachment to a character you've known since childhood, but when it gets to this level of toxic where nothing less than that character being worshipped in-universe will suffice, it's time for them to go.
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