he looks bloated :(

How You and Dick Get Together (Headcannons)

This can be read as a part two to my Dick Regretting Rejecting You head cannon that can be found here but its perfectly okay to be read as a stand alone. 

· Dick Grayson had been in love with you for five years now

· The crush that he thought would go away at 14 had turned into something deeper over the years

· Being his friend hadn’t been in a walk in the park, what with all the death that surrounded him

· Wally’s death had hit home and he had temporarily retired his mantle

·As did you when you retired from the superhero business last year to pursue your academic dreams of becoming a lawyer in Harvard

·Bruce was absolutely ecstatic that you wanted to pursue a higher education and had agreed to sponsor your education, even though you had saved up enough to sponsor your own first semester

·You were a really hard worker

· After Wally’s death, Dick had turned into a shell, somehow feeling responsible for the death of his friend

· Bruce saw his son’s unbecoming right in front of his eyes

· He had lost one son, he wouldn’t lose another

· So he suggested that Dick move in with you

· In Cambridge

·He had already spoken to you over the phone about it

· You were the one who suggested the idea

· Dick was sitting despondently at the steps of Wayne Manor when Bruce placed the tickets in his palm

· “Go. Be with her. She makes you happier than anyone else, and this time, don’t let her go.”

· Dick managed a weak smile

· Bruce pulled his eldest against him for a hug hoping you could fix what he had broken

· The service apartment was a 20-minute commute from college

· And although your dorm-mates were sad to see you go, you promised you’d be over as much as you can

· They didn’t mind much

· Especially after seeing Dick AKA the guy you were about to move in with

· And they teased you relentlessly

·“Just friends, huh?” suggestive smirk

·“Yes (Y/B/F/N) just friends,” you sigh before slamming your suitcase shut

· The service apartment was small, well-lit and well ventilated

· It was home before you even walked in

· Thank god it was summer of your freshman year when Dick moved in

· You were absolutely terrified when you saw Dick’s state

· The bags under his eyes were more pronounced

· He looked bloated and grey

· It was as though all his light was extinguished

·This was worse than when Jason died

· So you made him sit on the couch as you whipped up a large bowl of mac and cheese in the kitchen

· Once it was done, you place the bowl between the two of you and handed him a small black and blue plastic fork

· At least he smiled at that

· You coaxed him into talking to you

·  And he talked into the night, tears slipping through his eyes

· At some point, you ended up cuddling

· His head was on your chest and a blanket was wrapped around you as you placed soft kisses on his forehead once in a while

· He was broken, yes but you could still see the fragments of the young boy who had stolen your heart all those years ago within him

· And you were determined to bring him back

· Dick woke up the next day wrapped in your arms

· And he realised he’d not have it any other way

· He’d walk through hell in a parka if it meant waking up with you everyday

· Every day you would take him sightseeing, or just take him out in general may it be a laser tag place or a library or a circus gym

· You would go for a jog every evening and forced him to join you

· You cooked lunch and Dick would do dinner

· You spent most of your time with Dick and slowly, you could see the man healing

· His smiles were brighter and his laughs were turning back to guffaws

· He got along pretty well with your friends too

· He did notice, however, how all the guys would gravitate towards you and he couldn’t blame them

· You had looks to combat that of Aphrodite’s and a brain that could put Athena to shame

· Who wouldn’t be attracted to you?

· His only consolation was that you rejected every romantic advance

· Everything was great and Dick had finally built up the courage to ask you out officially when the call came

· “Dick, (Y/N) we need you in Gotham, now. Joker has placed fifteen bombs around Gotham. All hands-on deck”

· You intertwined your finger with his and dragged him to the roof in the dead of the night

·“Hold on, Dick”

· You said as you locked his arms around your waist and shot up with a swirl of golden energy

· Wayne manor was dead silent when you arrived

· You ran to the Batcave, suiting up immediately

·  Dick had forgotten how good you looked in your costume

· Your hair flowed out in (H/C) ringlets to your waist

· The black body fit you like a glove

· You blended into the night like a shadow  

·“You’re needed at the Bank of Gotham, Master Dick and Miss (Y/N)”

· Sirens were blaring when you arrived

·“13 bombs have been disabled. Batman and Robin are heading to the last location. Help the Bomb Disposal Squad enter Vault 11.”

· You did just that

· Commissioner Gordon was glad to have two of the less reckless vigilantes back in Gotham

· You levitated the team through the traps with one hand while you fought off Joker’s goons with the other

·  Dick was just as concentrated, rescuing civilians as you went

·  But you were too late

·  There was barely a minute left for the bomb to detonate

·  So you did what every selfless hero did

·  You sent Dick and the bomb squad out of the building with a burst of energy

·  You ignored Dick’s screams of protest

·  As soon as Dick scrambled to his feet outside the building he tried to run back inside

· But Tim grabbed his arm

· “Don’t” he said with tears in his eyes, “I can’t lose two siblings today.”

· The second he said that, the earth shuddered violently

· But the building didn’t blow up

· Everyone erupted into cheers

· And then, like a phoenix rising out of its ashes, you flew out of the building

·  Your hair was whipping in the wind and you looked like an absolute goddess

· Dick sprinted towards you, not caring if he was still Nightwing and you were still (Y/S/N)

· He was going to kiss you

· The adrenaline was pumping in his veins

· But at the last second he lost his nerve

·  And settled for a tight hug instead

·  To his surprise, Tim joined in too

· They all were a teary mess, sobbing on the road, holding each other

· Then they felt Bruce envelop them in a hug

· “You did well today”

·  When you were all back home, Alfred was fussing over you the most

·  He refused to leave your side

·  Dick too

·  He was practically coddling you

·  You were perfectly okay but you let them do it for their peace of mind

· It was midnight when Alfred left your room

· You had almost died tonight

· And it had made you realise one thing

· Life was too short

· So carpe diem motherfuckers

· So

· Without warning

· You got up from the bed

· Spun Dick around

·  And crashed your lips onto his

·  Interrupting him as he ranted on and on about the both of you being partners

· Dick froze before quickly melting into the kiss

·  His arms wrapped around your waist

· You pushed him against the wall and pressed yourself to him

· You didn’t want any gap to be left between the two of you

· Not tonight·      

So, I didn’t know if this was common knowledge but this rad post inspired me to do some digging. I never knew Toby Stephens had dealt with alcoholism in the past. I found this article that respectfully goes at more length about it, 

However, he admits he wasn’t always happy. And so he drank. He would go on 24-hour benders; he looked bloated and forgot his lines. But seeing the damage other alcoholics around him were doing to themselves, and feeling increasingly like ‘I was imploding’, one day he decided to give up. He hasn’t touched a drop in 12 years.

‘There is all this romantic nonsense about Burton and O’Toole and hell raisers like that,’ he says. ‘Nowadays the industry doesn’t have the money to employ people who are going to mess around and turn up not knowing their lines, all over the place. People think they are amazing because they did all this work while they were drunk — but just imagine how good they could have been if they weren’t.

Apparently, playing Flint ‘saved him’ in some regards and I don’t mean to be a total ham, but that’s so powerful. It really just works to further render why Toby has always been so fiercly invested in the character and the series, why he didn’t take anything from the set because ‘I carry Flint in my head’, that sort of thing. There’s a really daunting irony that he did such masterful work of a character who, in the original canon, drinks themselves to death but his rendition and the show’s take grants him happiness and security, peace from that awful and obscured ending. It’s an ending that literally negates that alcoholic demise, it’s an ending that promises healing, acceptance, and rest. Flint is ultimately saved by love, by queer love at that, and…it just feels so full circle that Toby received something so powerful from playing the part. I know Black Sails means a lot to us because it provides us representation, it assures us we are seen, that we’ve always existed, that though there are histories and systems of power that say we’re doomed, we survive and thrive in happiness. I’m sure there are some people who would say Black Sails saved them. I’m so glad that Toby was perhaps aligned to that in some small way. And as the child of an alcholic, it means a lot to me to see someone succeed so incredibly despite such an intense hardship in their past.

Maybe this is silly, but that’s the sublime capability of art. It helps us cast away shame, it holds a mirror up to us, it asks us to empathize radically, it saves us in ways no one else can entirely understand or expect. This show gave so much to me, I’m so happy it gave to him, too.  

I don’t even like kids, but this kid is awesome.

Today this kid (12, 13?) came in to my store with his dad. They had a bag of water, a bag with a marimo and a dead betta in a cup. I can tell the kid has been crying and he’s very shy so his dad speaks up and says “His betta died. We don’t know what happened. He’s really good about taking care of it. We brought the betta back, we don’t need to return it, we’ve had it for a few months, we just though you might see something we didn’t. We also brought the marimo, we don’t know if it can get sick.”

I tested his water, PERFECT params. I mean SPOTLESS. 0 Ammonia, 0 Nitrates and maybe 5-10 ppm Nitrates. I look at the betta. He looks bloated as hell and I’m thinking it was most likely swim bladder disease.

I look at the kid and I say “Your water is perfect. I mean, awesome. How often did you do water changes? Tell me about your tank.”

Very quietly he says “Once a week I take out I think 15% of the water? I was replacing the filter cartridge twice a month. It’s five gallons. Heater and everything. I’ve got a couple anub? Anubis? Anubias? and a small cave thing. Oh and it has sand on the bottom.”

I’m speechless. “I want you to know this wasn’t your fault. You’re doing great. You’re taking better care of your fish than most of the adults that come through here. Okay? What happened to your fish is called Swim Bladder disease. It’s a digestive issue that is often fatal. Happens quite a bit in Bettas and Goldfish. Sometimes, if you catch it early enough, you can feed your fish peas, and the fiber will clear the digestive tract. Your Marimo is fine. Take him home, put him in the fridge overnight and then put him back in your tank. They like a night in the fridge every so often. Bring me back a sample of your water in a couple days, just so we can make sure your fish didn’t leave behind a bunch of ammonia. Then you can put another one in.”

The kid picks out a female this time. I told him I would hold her for him. He’s very sheepishly smiling and I can tell he’s feeling better knowing that even experienced fishkeepers have lost fish to SBD. He’s now better equipped to handle it.

THIS IS HOW YOU CARE FOR FISH. When a 12-13 year old is doing weekly water changes for his betta in a heated, filtered tank and has PERFECT params. Adults, get your shit together.

dreamcatchersdaughter  asked:

Oh MY that was Wonderful! I loved your T'Stuckony pregnant verse, its beautiful! This is me totally asking for pregnant sex , for sometime in the future cause that would amazing. I'd love to read that. It would be even cooler if each of them ended up being the father of one pup. I could see Tony's relief, because despite their reassurance his instincts might have worry. Then he sees proof of them fawning over each of the babies and treating them with the same awe and wonder. Proud mama Tony :P

Truth be told there isn’t a lot of porn here. Like at all, but here we go! I added some insecure Tony in here, and some Rhodey/Clint/Sam at the end, too. Hope no one minds!


Continuation of this -

Tony found that, while he absolutely loved his alphas with all his heart, he couldn’t help but want to strangle them every minute of every day for what they had done to him. He was 6 months along in his pregnancy and his stomach looked utterly grotesque. It was oval, poking out from the front, looked deformed and looked disgusting with all the stretch marks and veins sticking out his pale skin.

Logically he knew his alphas weren’t completely responsible, seeing as he was the one who agreed to go through with it, and he couldn’t exactly blame his pups because, well, they were babies and had no say in their cramped mobile home that was Tony’s body. But Tony wasn’t seeing logic. All he was seeing was his once decently toned body looking a shadow of its former self while the three alphas were still fit and gorgeous. It wasn’t fair.

He tried smoothing his large sweatshirt over his stomach, deflating when it did nothing to slim his stomach and creating a mountain on his middle. Lately all he had been wearing were sweaters and jackets and giant shirts and basically anything that could hide his stomach away from innocent eyes. No one needed to see his disfigurement. They didn’t deserve to suffer.

“Sweetheart?”

Tony tensed and instinctively turned his front away and keeping it out of sight. He hadn’t noticed Steve enter their room at all. How long had he been there?

“What are you doing just standing here? Were you looking at how beautiful you are?” Steve gestured to the mirror that Tony had been pointedly ignoring. He didn’t need to see how ugly he looked with his bloated stomach. “We could’ve told you that ourselves.”

Tony mumbled a denial under his breath. These days he was anything but.

“Tony?” The blond alpha pressed his front against Tony’s back, sliding his arms around his expanded belly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s nothing, Steve.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?”

“Leave it.” Tony shook the arms off and moved away to stand on the edge of the bed. His back and his legs were aching and all he wanted to do was sit down.

(watch out for the cut mobile users)

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Nordic speech/profanity headcanons

Eyy have some headcanons

Finland
- Mostly curses when describing things negatively
- Makes everything sound like an innuendo. Usually it’s by accident but he does it on purpose with his close friends and makes it really obvious
- Really weird descriptions and analogies
- Starts a lot of sentences with “You know what they say…!” before proceeding to say some fuck all statement
- Tells a lot of somewhat off-topic stories and goes off on a lot of tangents
- Usually sounds like a tennis dad trying to impress his kids (like “WOW son ur not gonna BELIEVE what happened during brunch with LINDA!!! :D) because he’s just GOT to tell you everything that happened
- Uses a lot of hyperbole
- Ex: ”.. and his head was fuckin’ huge! He looked like a bloated school bus with a face. It was so cool.“
- Doesnt swear around kids or strangers. Is usually very careful with choosing his words with kids and strangers and ends up rephrasing a lot

Denmark
- Doesnt use many insults unless he’s really angry; sucks at coming up with insults anyway
- Usually curses casually and he says things like “it was hella rad” or “fuckin’ nice!”
- Says tubular, gnarly and radical all the time just to annoy ppl
- If he curses in front of someone who shows that they dont like profanity he’ll be all, “shit- fuck uhh, sorry bro.”
- Directly translates figurative language from Danish while forgetting that not everyone knows what they mean
- Keep in mind his native language has idioms like “communists in the fun house” so
- Because he’s so naturally loud and he talks really fast everything he says sounds energetic if he’s in a good mood (which is almost all the time)
- Very expressive. If he’s sad, you dont even need to see his face to know it. If he’s angry you can basically taste the pent up stress

Iceland
- Only curses casually (ex: “no you fucking didnt” = “I cant believe you did that”) but isnt actually mad at people, though he might seem a bit hostile
- Doesnt curse angrily; cant come up with any insults while he’s angry bc he’s too busy being upset and his mind sorta clouds over
- Cursing is new to him bc he only recently was able to convince norway that he’s old enough
- Doesnt use much figurative language at all bc he’s not familiar with English idioms and doesnt want to get them wrong
- Very prominent Icelandic accent,“; tends to go through his sentences quickly so people won’t notice
- Mumbles a lot and hopes that people dont ask for him to repeat things
- Since he’s only recently been granted the ability to swear, he does it kind of a lot because it’s the Hip Cool Edgy™ thing to do

Norway
- Usually doesnt find the need to curse. Or express much at all
- You’d hardly even notice it when he curses bc he says it really calmly, sorta defeating the purpose
- Thinks cursing isnt professional, though not rude or dirty
- Doesnt really have much of a problem w cursing but didnt want ice to use it because he might not be able to tell when not to use it
- Speaks very clearly and deliberately, although softly
- Can speak vulgarly while sounding very calm, kinda like Belarus
- Doesnt particularly want to insult anyone, although he usually sounds nonchalant or sarcastic. He just doesnt make an effort to change that at all
- Purposefully vague unless giving instructions for something he wants done a certain way. Like if he says something that could be interpreted different ways he doesnt elaborate
- Like Finland he also makes a lot of innuendos. That’s his way of being funny. Mostly dick jokes, sarcasm, and surreal memes.

Sweden
- Doesnt find the need to curse usually
- Also doesnt curse because it doesnt really help people immediately see that he’s not a scary person :/
- Uses pretty smart insults when he feels the need to tho. This man’s got a lot of unused sass
- Very fluent in English and hardly has an accent despite not talking much although his vowels sometimes sound weird
- Loves to talk about his native language and will definitely help people practice/learn Swedish if they ask
- Would actually go on and on about stuff like grammar, philosophy, history, and mythology if he weren’t embarrassed about liking it all so much
- Despite usually not liking to talk much, he actually does really well with presentations and speeches. As long as he’s able to plan out what he has to say in advance, he’s peachy
- Sometimes spaces out trying to think of things to say
- Really bad at subtlety when he wants to be subtle but when he’s trying to explain something he’s always asked to clarify

Swoll To Swell

           Craig forced himself into the gym five times a week, two hours each trip. It wasn’t something he liked to do, and definitely not something that got him excited, but seeing the looks the bigger members of his family got, he vowed to never be like them.

           Don’t get me wrong (my name is Henry and I’m your narrator tonight), he loved his family dearly. He was very family devoted and was there for his family no matter what, but it was hard for him to see the public treat them so unfairly. He saw people in parking lots laugh and point at his father when he tried to squeeze himself into Craig’s tiny car. His cousins were bullied in their middle school for their weight. The lowest point was when he found out that his aunt and uncle, as sweet and compassionate they were, had been turned into a meme about elephants grazing in the wild, when all they were doing was getting food at the buffest. From then on, no matter how much he liked food and hated the gym, he decided he would never know what it meant to be fat.

           All of this he told James, the trainer at 24 Hour Cardio. He had known James for a few years now, and had remained friends even when they couldn’t make a relationship work. James was dedicated to working out and loved it, and man did it show. The man had pecs and abs that could’ve and probably were chiseled in ancient Venice. His chest had a dark field of chest hair with wide pink nipples poking out. His back was broad and his predominant ass stuck out of any and all pants they were concealed in. He was a god, for all intensive purposes. And did he still love Craig, thought Craig wouldn’t know it for a few weeks.

           Also, unknown to Craig, James didn’t love him at his current size. That would also change within a few weeks.

           Craig was thin, with some slight meat on his bones. For someone who was six foot two, he looked how a man that tall should look. Forcing himself to do pushups and weights the past few months had definitely defined his chest and arms, but no number of crunches and core exercises could make his tiny amount of belly fat to go away. This was where James’ expertise would come in handy, but not in the way Craig would expect.

           “You need to start talking SomeExtra,” James told him while spotting for Craig. “It is high in protein, but burns what you eat for a few hours. It is a great metabolism booster, while helping you get some gains too.”

           Craig grunted as he pushed the barbell back into place. “But I don’t want gains. I want loses.”

           “Dude, trust me. You want to define that chest a little more and make those arms swoll. Plus, the crunches will tighten your core along with the protein, so you’ll lose your fat and tone that shit up.”

           Craig couldn’t deny that this sounded good. So, he agreed to start taking this protein shake.

           James handed him a small container of the powder. “Drink this with water tomorrow. Come to the gym and tell me how you feel.”

           Craig nodded and went home.

           The next morning, he mixed the powder with water and drank it. He licked his lips, tasting the thick chocolate solution, feeling it make its way to his stomach. Feeling hungry, he made himself a few eggs with toast. He was happy when he felt full after a few bites. This will really work, he thought to himself.

           He went to the gym happy that afternoon and worked out hard, pushing himself to his limits. Weird enough, he felt motivated and happy. James certainly saw it, for he could not stop smiling either. He enjoyed seeing Craig so happy.

           “Here is the rest of the container. But here’s the deal. You can’t take it every day. And you shouldn’t drink more than one a day. People have had some weird side effects if they overuse it.”

           “Yeah yeah, whatever man,” Craig said taking the container. He felt cocky. He knew with hard work and dedication, he could soon look like James and get all the guys he could want. Most of all, he would never feel the scrutiny that his family has felt over the years.

           Days passed and Craig never felt better. He only took three shakes a week, which meant he ate less those days, and continued with going to the gym. That was, until he got into a car crash which resulted in a serious neck injury that put him on light duty at work, and resulted in a break from the gym.

           Refusing to give into take out and fast food, he started making his own meals at home. When he started to run low on food, he turned to the shakes. Well, he thought to himself, if I drink a little more of the shakes, I’ll eat less. Therefore, I can save money and food by not eating so much.

           This was a BIG mistake for Craig.

           He began drinking the shakes every day in the morning, followed by his small breakfasts. Sometimes, he even had them before dinner, which resulted in leftovers for lunch the next day. All was well, until he noticed his hunger didn’t disappear after the shakes and a light meal. He had to eat more food to keep himself full. This didn’t worry him, until he noticed a small pouch of fat on his stomach.

           “James, something’s the matter. I need you to come over.”

           “Sure enough, James showed up at Craig’s apartment. James looked Craig over, seeing the few pounds Craig was now sporting in a tight fit muscle shirt.

           “That’s nothing to be worried about. I did warn you though about abusing the shakes.”

           “But three pounds in a few days? That’s nuts!”

           “Well, I do have something else you might like.” He reached into his bag and gave Craig another small container, this time with a white powder. “You’ll want to drink this, but eat a hefty meal afterwards. You’ll be able to go all day without eating again.”

           Craig eyed the powder cautiously. “And there’s no issues with this one?”

           “Well, none have been reported. But you’ll be fine. Here, drink this now and I’ll get you some food.”

           As James was out, Craig mixed the formula and drank. He felt the shake sink into his stomach and felt very optimistic that this time he would be satisfied. James came back with a whole feast in paper bags: two thick juicy burgers with all the toppings, a few beers, two containers of fries, and a triple scoop sundae.

           “Umm, that’s so unhealthy,” Craig said looking at the containers on his kitchen table. “The idea was to help me thin out and gain muscle, not get fat as fuck.”

           “Trust me. You’ll be fine,” James said with a smile.

           Trusting his friend, Craig dived in. He ate one burger without stopping, then added fries to the second one. After that was gone, he swallowed two beers without so much as a few breaths between, and attacked the third burger. Soon, the only thing that was left was the sundae. He placed his hand on his full, bloated tummy and almost gave up. That was, if James hadn’t raised the container of melted ice cream to his lips and helped him drink all three scoops of creamy melted ice cream. Craig sat back in his chair, defeated, rubbing his taught belly. He burped loud and James smiled. “How do you feel?”

           Craig looked at him. He was going to answer “Full,” but felt the weirdest sensation in his gut. As he looked down, his bloated belly seemed to disappear, sucking itself back into its usual flt self, with the extra pouch added to it. “What the fuck?” Craig asked, lifting his shirt up and poked his normal looking belly.”

           “Oh, it’s normal. The shake just burned through all that food like it was nothing. That’ll happen now. But you need to keep eating a lot after for it to work this way.”

           Craig, still looking a little mystified, was comforted when James added, “Here, let me stay with you for a few days. I’ll take time off work and I’ll help you when I can.”

           It was a match made in heaven as everyday was filled with a shake first thing in the morning, followed by food all day. Craig’s belly was put to the test as it was filled to near bursting for hours, but before bed, it would go back to how it was in the morning. He began to feel feelings for James that he didn’t know existed. It went so far that when James went out for food, he would rub out loads of cum thinking about having sex with his sexy friend.

           At night, when James was asleep, Craig would slip out and hit up the fast food restaurants in town, gorging on burgers and fried chicken. When James wasn’t around the house, he would sneak snack cakes and pie and big bowls of pudding. Why wouldn’t he? After all, it was all going to get burned anyway.

           Five weeks passed, and something felt different. He felt his stomach rumble all morning, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

           James wasn’t too concerned. Instead, he gave Craig a third shake, this time strawberry.

           “What do I do after I drink this one?” Craig asked him.

           “Sit back and watch,” James said.

           As ominous as this was, Craig shrugged and drank the mixture. Instead of this shake being sweet and think, he felt as though he drank sour water. He gagged and felt a slow, but steady build up in his stomach. As his belly roared loudly and gurgled, he gripped his front as James walked him into the living room. There, it stopped. Not a sound was made from his belly.

           He sighed in relief, and smiled at his friend. That was, until he felt his shirt get a little tighter. He looked down and sure enough, his belly ballooned fifteen pounds. His gaze slowly rose to meet James. “What happened?”

           “Oh,” James said with a grin. “Well, let’s see. The second shake simply stored all the calories you ate every day. This shake just released them into your body. And since all you did was eat like a total pig for a few weeks, there’s no telling how much will actually be released.” Craig felt the urge to rush and punch James in the face, but then he felt himself planted to the spot. He looked down and felt a thick and slow sensation as his belly grew at a steady pace. It rounded itself out, in width and length away from his body. His shirt rose up past his navel as his belly expanded. His chest puffed out also, creating the perkiest of man tits. He felt his small nipples grow in diameter, moaning as they became for sensitive with every slow stretch. He ripped his shirt off and sent his fat jiggling.

           The fabric of his briefs got tighter as his legs and ass began to get thick also. He reached his hand to his butt and gave it a good squeeze, feeling the fat fill up the space where his small ass used to be. He got surprised when the feel of his fat ass began to get his cock hard. Not caring about James watching him expand and get hot off it, he reached to his front to relieve himself. But no matter how hard he reached, his hand could not reach his stiff cock. He began to feel disgruntled as James slowly, but without much ease, helped his widening frame sit on the couch.

           Without saying a word, James took the cock in his mouth and began to suck. Craig moaned in ecstasy as he felt this fat body with his hands, grabbing every roll and pinching his super sensitive nipples. He must have been three hundred pounds by now, but care was far from his mind. He loved the feel of fat, the power that came with it. Fuck being swoll, he was perfectly fine with swell. He looked down and couldn’t James’ head bobbing up and down due to his fat gut. What he did feel was a pleasure he would never find words for as he moaned and filled James (and his tight gut) with squirt upon squirt of warm cum.

           Once the cum stopped flowing and the fat stopped spreading, James found himself sweaty and totaling at three hundred fifty pounds. James stood up, his abdomen swollen with cum, smiling and hard as a rock.

           “I’m a little hungry,” Craig said between gasps. Without any other instruction, James mounted Craig’s face, and fucked a hardy load into his already fat gut.

           A few days later, Craig joined his family at the buffet. He never noticed the stares and laughs at him and his fat family. He finally felt happy and like he belonged. It doesn’t help that waiting for him was a hot muscled man, holding a shake in one hand in a bag of burgers in the other.

3

my newest baby! his name’s phoenicis

(named after the brightest star in the phoenix constellation… then there’s sammy who’s name has no meaning whatsoever but i still love him)

Baby Fever - Imagine request

Request:  Well, I really would like a mix between Kids and Mind Reader

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Cas (mentioned), Crowley (mentioned), Rowena (mentioned), John and Mary Winchester (mentioned).

Warnings: Pretty angsty, tbh. Plus, the Winchester’s traumas.

Word count: 2,367

A/N: I wasn’t sure what aspects of each fic I should mix, so I just went with, obviously, mind reading powers and Dean talking about babies because, as I said before, it makes me go weak on the knees. Enjoy!


Stupid witches, throwing spells like crazy and not even caring what kind of curse they’re throwing.

Sam, Dean and (Y/N) had gone hunting for a witch who, before being killed by Sam, threw a bunch of curses to the hunters. Cas had told them that the curses would last a couple of days, her magic was too powerful to vanish easily after her death so they had to hold on.

None of them was sure what kind of spell was thrown their way, however, Dean was starting to guess the one he got: Mind reading.

“Any clues, fellas?” Dean asked, handing a beer to his brother and his wife.

Yes, wife. Dean was married to a strong, stubborn hunter that he had met many years ago in a bar back in Texas. He fell immediately in love with her and so did she (although it took them a hell lot of a time to admit it) and eventually got married in Vegas after solving a case there.

“Nope.” His wife spoke. “Think, (Y/N)! There must be something off about… oh my God, that baby is so cute, why do they always pick cute babies for internet ads? They make me want to… okay, focus.” The huntress frowned and opened a new computer tab.

Definitely mind reading.

“What about you?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know… I don’t feel anything weird except for a strange itch in my… There it is, again.” Sam cringed before basically running to the bathroom.

“Do you feel anything?” (Y/N) asked as Dean took his brother’s place in front of her.

“No.” He lied, taking a swig from his beer.

Why does he always look sexual when he drinks?” She thought, “I wonder if he did that same thing as a baby… Baby, I want a baby… Although, I already have one, right? Baby the Impala… She’s Dean’s baby so that makes her my baby and…”

“Babe, are you okay?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows. The girl had spaced out.

“Yes, yes… I’m just trying to figure out my curse… That’s all.” She faked a smile.

Baby fever, crap.

“Guys!” Sam called, “I think I found mine.” Dean and (Y/N) quickly stood up from their seats and walked closer to the bathroom door.

Sam opened it closely as he came out. His skin was completely red, and he looked a bit bloated. Dean and (Y/N) gasped at the image.

“Skin rash.” He stated.

“Clever bitch…” Dean muttered, “Witch…”

“Is it itchy?” (Y/N) asked.

“Very.” Sam replied. His fingers were tense; he was clearly trying to fight the urge to scratch.

“Okay, it will last a couple of days but I guess Dean and I can go to the drugstore and get you one of those creams to ease the…”

“YES.” Sam begged.

-

The drugstore was huge and it was full of people. Dean and you couldn’t find the cream in any of the aisles so you decided to ask the clerk.

A huge, ex-convict looking man attended you. Dean held your hand protectively as he started to speak.

“Hi, uh… We’re here for that cream that eases itch…” Dean said awkwardly, “It’s for my brother.” The man grumbled and turned around. He took a tube of cream from the cabinet behind him.

“Here.” The man said with a deep voice. “Yeah right, his brother needs it. I bet it’s for him.

“Yeah uh… We’re going to need more…” The man breathed out a heavy sigh and turned around again to grab another tube.

“Here.” He repeated. Dean gave him a sheepish smile. “Ken doll likes to exaggerate, great. One tube lasts a whole week of treatment.

“Maybe a bit more,” Dean mumbled, “he is like six feet tall and has the rash all over his body and…” The man rolled his eyes angrily. “A little help here, sweetheart.” Dean whispered at (Y/N) but she wasn’t paying attention.

Dean turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were focused on two kids who were chasing each other between the aisles.

Look at them, they’re so cute… I wonder if my kids with Dean would be this cute… Or even so, I wonder if Dean would consider having kids with me.” The curse only worked if Dean was looking at the person.

“Babe?” Dean called and (Y/N) immediately looked back at him.

“Yeah, yeah…” She nodded and got closer to the counter. “Look, my brother in law in allergic to certain plants and we went hunting yesterday and he fell and rolled over a bunch of those plants and he’s in a lot of pain.” She explained. Dean loved that she was that good at lying, she always saved their asses.

“Uh, I see.” The clerk replied. He turned around and took a big container. “This one works for those cases… It’s the same as ten cream tubes but it costs half of that.” The clerk explained.

“We’ll take that, then.” She smiled. Dean couldn’t help but to feel a little angry. Every man on Earth was nice to her, and Dean knew exactly why.

Dean paid and then they drove to the closest gas station. Dean wanted to fill Baby’s tank before they went back home that night.

(Y/N) stayed in the car as Dean filled his car. There was another car at the gas station, parallel to them. The man was filling the tank as his wife re-applied her lipstick; there were two kids on the backseat singing some Barney song.

That song again, I’m sick of it.” The man thought, making Dean cringe. “But they like it so much, how could I ask them to stop?

Look at the girl on the other car; she’s so young and beautiful…” The woman thought, finishing her lipstick and looking at (Y/N). “She doesn’t have kids and the man with her is so cute… I remember when Bob and I were like that.” Dean’s heart ached at the woman’s longing. “Now I’m old and I don’t have the same body I used to… But aren’t they worth it?” The woman turned to look back at her kids, a small smile forming on her lips as the kids repeated the song. “Yes, they’re worth it.

Dean shook his head and focused back on his car. (Y/N)’s thoughts at the drugstore, about wanting to have kids, had done something to his brain. Of course he wanted to have kids; it was part of his dream life… But growing up in the life wasn’t ideal, and he knew it better than anyone.

His eyes roamed to his girlfriend, she was looking at the kids through the mirror.

So pretty, so full of life… Those two must be so happy with their kids…” Dean looked back down at the car.

Half of him was happy that his girlfriend wanted kids, but the other side wasn’t. Sam and Dean had grown with a hunter father, and their lives were crappy as hell; not to mention the fact that they could never have a normal life with friends and a stable house and all of that. Yes, they had the bunker, but Dean was pretty sure that it was no place to grow kids.

Why are you even worried? Her thoughts are created from the witch’s curse. Wait a few days and she’ll forget about them.

Dean sighed as he finished filling Baby’s tank and he drove back to the motel.

-

Sam was only wearing his underwear. He was sliding an ice over his swollen skin, that being the only way to stop him from scratching. (Y/N) handed him the cream and Sam ran back to the bathroom to apply the cream.

(Y/N) and Dean cuddled on their bed as they waited for Sam.

Should I ask him? No! Of course not! What if he pushes you away? We’re married but… DIVORCE EXISTS. No, just keep it to yourself and wait for the best. Maybe he’ll be ready one day, then he’ll ask and you won’t have to scare him. Yeah, I’ll wait.” (Y/N)’s thoughts were fast and so full of desire, Dean had to look away in order to stop listening to them.

Just a curse, that’s all.

Sam went out of the bathroom covered from head to toe with the cream. He put towels on his bed and lied down, immediately falling asleep. (Y/N) fell asleep as well, and then Dean followed them.

The next morning, (Y/N) was the first to wake up. She knew her lady days were due to start that morning; therefore she ran to the bathroom before the Winchesters could wake up. She wasn’t expecting what she saw.

Not only was her hair green, but also her eyebrows, eyelashes and every other hair on her body. Even the ones that weren’t supposed to be visible were green. Worse thing is, it wasn’t a pretty green but the most hideous one she had ever seen.

She screamed at her own reflection, waking the brothers up.

Sam and Dean bursted through the bathroom door with their guns in hand. Sam still had a bit of cream unabsorbed and Dean seemed to be still asleep.

“What’s wro… Oh, crap.” Dean lowered his gun. “You’re green.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” (Y/N) shouted.

“But why are you all green?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

“Newsflash, Sammy, girls have body hair too!” Dean chuckled at her response.

“Oh, I uh… Sorry I… I’m going back to bed.” The younger Winchester said, taking his cream and getting out of the bathroom. Dean was trying not to laugh.

“This isn’t funny, Dean.” She argued.

“I know but… You look like a green version of the cookie monster.” Dean giggled.

“I’m not that hairy!” (Y/N) shouted. Dean shook his head and wrapped his hands around his girlfriend.

“Of course you’re not, I’m just joking.” He stroked her hair in a soothing way until the realization sunk down on him.

“Wait… Green hair… That’s your curse?” Dean inquired.

“Duh.” She replied.

“I thought… Crap.” His whole body shivered. The baby fever wasn’t a curse, it was an actual thing.

“What?” (Y/N) pushed him back in order to look at him directly in the eyes.

“Nothing I just…” Dean couldn’t find an excuse; he wasn’t as good as lying as his wife.

“Dean, tell me the truth now.” She commanded. Dean sighed and looked down.

“I thought the witch had cursed you with a baby fever or something like that.” Dean confessed.

“Why would you think that?” (Y/N) asked in confusion. Dean looked back up.

“She cursed me with mind reading.” (Y/N) turned pale under the green, she swallowed loudly.

“Dean I…” She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to pressure you or anything, it’s just… I’m a woman; it’s in my nature and…” Tears started streaming down her face. Dean shook his head, wiping her tears with his thumbs.

“I know, and it’s fine.” He whispered, “I won’t leave you, I won’t divorce you… I just…”

“I know, it’s a stupid idea and I promise it will pass.” (Y/N) completed.

“It’s not that stupid… If we lived another life then I’d… We’d already have kids, but growing up in this life… It sucks.” Dean explained, his eyes were also getting watery.

“I know, I know.” She dried her tears and cleared her throat. “I get it, it’s fine… Just ignore my thoughts, they’ll eventually change. I promise.” She tried to smile, but Dean knew he had just broken his wife’s heart.

“Babe, I…” She hushed him by pressing a finger on his lips.

“I know, it’s fine.” She kicked Dean out of the bathroom, claiming that she wanted to take a shower.

Sam was sitting at the edge of his towel-covered bed. He had a disappointed look on his face.

“Don’t do that, Sam.” Dean begged, “You know it’s for the better.”

“Is it?” Sam muttered.

“Yes! Sam! You and I grew up in this life, you know how crappy it is! I won’t do that to my kids.” Dean whined.

“Our life was awful, yes. But only because dad sucks, and we didn’t have mom…” Sam insisted.

“That doesn’t change the fact that my kids would learn how to shoot a gun before they know how to spell their names.” Dean continued.

“Not because dad did that, you’re going to do the same, Dean.” Sam trembled, “You are better than him – than dad. And (Y/N)… I’m sure she won’t burn in the ceiling like mom… You two can raise kids differently than dad did… And you have me; I can help you too and…”

“Stop, Sam.” Dean begged, a tear spilling from his face.

“I’m just saying, our life doesn’t have to be your kid’s lives too.”  Sam stated.

“Would you… Would you have kids? I mean if you were me?” Dean whispered, looking down.

“Yes.” Sam answered. Dean looked back up to his brother. “We are stable now. The bunker is big and safe enough to have children there… There’s a small school nearby where they can go… We also have Cas and… I don’t know, man. Things are different now from how they were when we were kids.” Dean nodded and sat beside his brother.

“Do you really think I will be a good father?” The older hunter asked and Sam chuckled.

“No doubt of it… You did a pretty good job with me.” Dean smiled a little.

“Yeah… I’m good with kids and (Y/N)… She will be a great mom and they will have you and Cas to take care of them too and…” Dean had started to smile bigger and bigger with each word.

“It’s going to be great.” Sam finished.

-

Thankfully, Dean decided to have kids. Turns out, (Y/N) was already pregnant; her hormones were the ones to cause the baby fever.

Their kids grew happily in the bunker, their life turned out better than the Winchesters. They had a lovely mom and dad, two caring uncles from which one was an angel; the king of hell and his witch mother would spoil rotten them whenever they were around… It was the greatest life a kid with hunter parents could ask for.

2

sardine the roadkill kitty ♡ found this sweet boy left to rot on the shoulder of the road. he had been left in plain view and obviously been out for quite some time (pic of his skin- warning Nasty and green) covered in bugs and so bloated he looked obese. he turned out to be a filthy, skinny intact tom (not a drop of fat on him, not even in his tail!) so it’s no surprise nobody had come for him. sad as it is, at least he will be loved now

misteruniverse-deactivated20170  asked:

ok but diet coke and mentos in the sans ectotum

Warnings: #Fast Weight Gain #Belly Expansion #Implied Stomach Popping #Soda Inflation #Mentos and Soda Experiment #Giant Gut #Belching


“…hlp… hic!” A burp. “ hhff… hic! ughh…”

Sans lay prone on his backside, feeling dizzy, hazy and utterly foolish. He was silently thankful he was within the safety of his bedroom. This ridiculous “experiment” he’d concocted would have been disastrous if performed in public.

One fizzy candy and one bottle of diet cola, that was all he needed to test his theory. He could have gone with the MTT ™ Cola from the Hotland Hotel snack bar. 

But no. He had to go digging in places he shouldn’t have. Like the dump, where he found a case full of discarded but otherwise untouched human brand soda pop. A thick, enticing two liter bottle of chocolate-colored fizzy delight, still vacuum packed and cold thanks to the chilly depths of the dump. Probably lost during a wayward camping trip. 

He’d never tried human food before, so who was to say it wouldn’t do for a cool set of variables. 

He’d been dying to test the limits of his monstrous appetite. That whole “diet cola and popping candy” challenge seemed safe enough– at least as a good precursor to the later, more daring banana and lemon cola challenge. It didn’t even involve that much food! Just a simple chemical reaction with measured results. Like a dumb old science fair volcano. What harm could it do?

Apparently plenty. 

a-all for– hic! s-science i said– hic! hlp– hiccup- hic!” A groan. Another burp, interrupted but an untimely onslaught of hiccups. “ulp… it’ll b-be hIC! f-fun i said– hicCUP!! hic! hIC!!”

He weakly reached up massage his bloated middle, but barely so much as touching it would send the bubbles burbling around within him. They combined, increased in size, multiplied, and pushed his already distended gut out an extra inch. Sans whimpered and hiccuped, the jolts from his spasming ghostly diaphragm jostling the steadily expanding magical sac even further. Oh god, he hoped he didn’t pop. He’d be out of commission for days if that happened. 

And yet, at first this sensation had felt incredible

The act of filling up was pleasant enough on its own, but the fact that this required one tenth the usual effort eating usually took made it somehow even more wonderful. Any way to make things the lazy way was a-ok by Sans (at least at first).

As much as he enjoyed the whole eating process, especially when it came to Grillby’s fantastically unhealthy cooking, the fact that all he had to do was lie there on his creaking mattress and watch in fascination as his magical blue sac filled in all the gaps on its own was both fascinating and satisfying. 

One long gulp of the whole human beverage and one whole packet of candy– no sense in beating around the bush (…yeesh, maybe papyrus was starting to rub off on him). The reaction of the acidic material combining with basic was almost beautiful to watch, the dark foamy compound swirling and bubbling and quickly dissolving into a gassy, oddly less sparkly, more opaque magical solution. He heard the mixture pop and fizzle, almost as if it were alive of its own accord. Simple, yet so brilliant. 

It had been slow at first, inching little by little of the flabby membrane up and outward. What was once a flabby deflated stomach (he’d skipped lunch in lieu of curiosity) was now slowly creeping outward, bubble by bubble, burble by grumble. The millions of bubbles from the fizzy drink tickled as his tummy stretched further, prompting burps and hiccups as it expanded at a steady pace. It felt heavier earlier than he’d expected, most likely thanks to the thicker, more solid human world cola alongside the sparkly, magical monster candy. 

Sans watched on blissfully drunk, giggling giddy as his stomach expanded outward from the front and the sides, slowly pressing him down onto his mattress. First one foot out, then two, then three– then four! It just kept on going. It felt so exciting, even when the edges started to pinch against his pelvis and ribs. 

But then it started to hurt. 

And it wouldn’t stop growing. 

“ohhh– hlp hff– hIC! hic! i-i gotta– hic! l-let some of this– hic! g-gas out!”

He searched, phalanges fumbling at first, but soon became desperate to find relief as the bubbles of fizzy human beverage foamed and expanded further, bloating his gut almost two more feet at once. 

It took some work– ohh he hated working– but Sans pushed through his dizzy fog and fits of hiccups, catching some troublesome bubbles along his generous love handles, then up and long his sides– wherever he could reach most easily. 

BRUUUAAAAAaaaghmphhh! hic! hiCUP! b-BRAAAAAAUUUUMP!” He huffed, finding more slack near his pelvis and pinching the bubbles as quickly as he could in his sluggish state. 

Oh god– he was so big now he couldn’t even reach his arms all the way around. His belly was so engorged and wobbly, it kept him prisoner on his own bed. He would’ve been proud if he weren’t in so much pain. He almost felt betrayed that something so beautiful to look at was causing him such distress… but then again, this whole mess was his fault to begin with. But he could worry about blame later!

“hic- BRRRUUUUUUUUUUMMRUUUUUUGH!” 

Even more slack, and yet somehow his stomach continued growing. If he didn’t act soon, he’d paint his whole room (and medical bill) in fluorescent blue. 

“hff hufffff– hic! alright buddy, you wanna pla–hicCUP! hic! h-hardball?” Sans gulped, summoning every inch of magic he had in his left eye, focusing on an extra dark spot at the very center of it all. He grabbed it– it held!– and flicked it to his right side. With a wince, he gave the thick, dark bubble a hearty pinch. 

BRRUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”

It felt like a 9 on the Richter scale at least. sans was certain he heard the window rattle, and was quietly thankful that Papyrus was out training with Undyne. 

And just like that, it was all over. Apparently he’d hit the center of where the reaction was going wrong. His belly continued to make fizzy, popping noises mingled with the usual gurgles and burbles of a full tummy, but the bloating had been stifled. 

And not a moment too soon, Sans realized. He marveled upward at the results of the experiment gone wrong, panting and moaning, the hiccups not yielding. His belly towered over him a good length away, his clothes long since pushed away by the sheer force of the bloat. He looked… (he couldn’t believe it) he looked at least as wide as he was tall. That wasn’t much, but it was the furthest he’d ever gotten in his binges. 

Sans couldn’t deny that the results were astounding. Human food combining with monster food was not a good variable to start with, but boy did they bring in the results. 

As he stared, catching his breath, he figured a change of clothes would be a good way to start the damage control. He was still fairly tired, but if he was going to pass out he was not going to pass out in his sweat and spit drenched sweater. He was going to pass out in a shirt he’d drenched in sweat yesterday. 

As he pulled it off and slipped on a six XXXL MTT Concert tee (it still didn’t fit him past his ribs, but it as something), he noticed that his magical sack had compensated for the lacking space between his ribs and pelvis all on its own, forcing the membrane to grow upwards along his ribs and form extra pockets closer to his sternum that almost resembled… well, moobs for lack of a better word. Hopefully Papyrus wouldn’t notice. Well… if he did, he could always fall back onto boob jokes. 

In spite of his discomfort and exhaustion, he patted the magical belly in thanks for potentially saving him– pleasantly surprised that it held a lot of give thanks to the pesky trouble bubble popping away. He tried to push himself upright to get an even better view, but the weight of the encased magic stubbornly pressed back down. After a few false starts, he propped himself up against the far wall, wincing as gravity acted accordingly on his gut, pressing it painfully on top of his femurs. He spread his legs out (fairly far out), and adjusted the waistband of his shorts, causing even more of his unseen gut to spill forth and jiggle onto his lap. 

“ulf… hic!” he let out a small burp, looked down, then did a double-take. “hic! w-whoa… hicCUP!” 

Sans had been right. He was as wide as he was tall, if not more. 

He wrapped his legs around his front in an attempt to sit cross legged, but his toes did not even come close to touching. He could barely see the mattress beyond his bulging middle. This was, without a doubt, the biggest he’d ever been (well, at least as far as he could remember in this timeline). 

Hesitant at first, he tested the side of his gut, pushing it and prodding it in certain places to see where the give came and went. He was stunned, but gladly so, to feel it was starting to change from taught and firm to plush already– maybe it was because most of the mass was caused by trapped air and foam rather than solid magical foodstuffs. He pressed it, caressed it, marveled at it, thankful to finally come down from his panic as he watched in hazy wonder. It wobbled back and forth, rippling like an enormous vat of blueberry jello. Sans snorted, the giddiness returning. 

“hic! talk about- hic! talk ‘bout -hic! hicCUP! t-talllllk ‘bout …empty calories…” 

He giggled at his own joke, causing his belly to wobble more. Which only made him giggle harder. It was a vicious cycle only interrupted by squeaky little hiccups. Soon he was a mess of jiggly giddiness, and could only fall to his side and slowly laugh himself to sleep, staring fondly at his experiment-gone-wrong-gone-very-right. 

Maybe, in the future, he should experiment with human food more often. 

I was gone for the weekend, which I have done in the past with no issues and I get home and Strix is sick. He is super pale and listless and definitely bloated. He looks like he’s starting to pine cone and I feel terrible. I did a small water change and took out the carbon so I can start dosing with Maracyn Two, got daphnia rehydrating with a little garlic but I’m so worried. He was fine three days ago, I don’t understand what happened

anonymous asked:

Ok is it just me or has kenny been looking more defined and toned these days especially in his abs?!?!?!

I havent really seen any recent photos of him since the Princess Jasmine pics which werent so flattering and people were saying he looked bloated and fat!

Don't Make Papa Pop!

Megan flinched and wailed when Hatter mentioned his weight, flopping over on her side. Oh God…now Daddy Hatter would know…and he would feel worse…but but…worse of all he would know he did that to her husband….and hate her for it.  Guilt surged through her. She sobbed on the floor.

The children watched as daddy and Grandpa Hatter went to a room that Grandma Hatter said never to go in. The children looked from Grandma Hatter to mommy and looked even more confused. “What do we do, grandma?” They asked.

Daddy Hatter frowned, allowing his son to help him up  and lead him to his old study. He gave a nostalgic smile. “I remember these books…I’ll have to thank your mother and you later…” He was touched that everything had been left as it had been when he left. He was worried about what he son was going to show him. Was it really that bad?

His son helped him into a chair and his son sat on the table. He was unable to help a small chuckle. Hatter still had some bad habits from when he was a little boy. He hadn’t even noticed that Hatter had locked the door to the study. He was confused at his son’s words. Crystal? What was that? And why only the past year? Wasn’t he going to show him his graduation and his start as a host. You know, the beginning. 

What it started with shocked the older host and nearly made him sick. Not because of his son’s weight, but because he blamed himself for being a bad role model. He honestly could hardly recognize his son. He felt horrible he hadn’t been for his son in these hard times. He honestly was okay with the first few pictures and videos. It was okay for his son to have a health appetite. However, he gasped at the pictures of Hatter eating most of the wedding cake when he and Megan got married and that he stabbed a heavier….was that Hare? …over an egg roll. He nearly stared to cry. He had another grandchild? The various tailor pictures broke his heart. The wheelchair actually made him start to sob. He broke down at the last picture of the Hatter family reunion Not only was there his son, much heavier than he ever seen him, but there were people that had been lost and gained and he wasn’t in the picture.

Daddy Hatter was clinging to hope that this was all a elaborate prank with an overstuffed pillow. “Um…Crystal….” He shouted, unsure. “Stop on pictures 15, 20, 35, 45, 55 through 60, 75 and 100.” He commanded, getting up with a bit of difficulty and walking over to the projection…slide…television…computer….intelligent…Crystal…thing. 

Picture 15:

It was Hatter’s wedding. “This is you and Megan…why is the wedding cake…eaten in picture 14…?” He asked. Was he that hungry? Hatter looked bloated in the picture…and drunk. It was after Megan taken the corset off of her, but she was smiling.

Picture 20:

Hatter stabbing Hare. “Is this Hare…And Tweedledum and Tweedledee…?” He asked, hardly unable to recognize the now adult, obese friends of his.

Picture 35:

Lily being taken away. “I had another grandchild?” He asked, pointing at Lily. Megan was there, too. She had gained a lot of weight and was obese. “Who is this?” He asked, unable to recognize her.

Picture 45:

Megan had lost a ton of weight, becoming so skinny that she looked skeletal. “Who is this?” He asked again, unable to recognize her skinny either.

Pictures 55-60:

Hatter was at the tailor. Daddy Hatter hiccuped here. He couldn’t say anything.

Picture 75:

Hatter was in a wheelchair: “Who…who is this…?” He lied, pointing at this son. He knew who it was exactly, but….this part was just a prank, right? He was just resting and hiding a pillow under his stomach, right?

Picture 100:

The Hatter family reunion. He pointed at the picture as a whole. “There are…some new faces….and some people missing like your Great Great Aunt Meral Hatter….where did she go?” He asked. He lowered his head, tears hitting the floor. “I should’ve been in this family reunion picture and…every other family reunion picture before that.”

He could always recognize his grandchildren when they popped up…except for Lily.

“I suppose I do owe you an explanation for everything dad…” Hatter sighed forcing himself to look up at Crystal with tears starting to form in his eyes. “The Wedding Cake was indeed gone but…I-I just couldn’t contain myself…I-I saved Megan a slice though.” he motioned with his hands how delicate the slice was with his fingers.

Clicking to the next picture the host could only give a nervous smile at it. “Look at us…the future of Wonderland…hehe!” he gulped well aware that his father wouldn’t find that funny at all.

“Lily is…Hare and my child you could say. She is residing with the Queen until her majesty defines Hare or me to be fit parents. Also that lass there is Megan!” he pointed at his beloved upon the screen.

Next slide, Hatter would repeat himself once more with a point on the screen. “That is Megan as well.”

“Oh the Tailor loved me! He loved the moment I came in to ask for my first resizing. Upon my third visit he actually baked me a plateful of cookies….which now that I think about it…he also whispered while he worked on changes something like, “eat fat boy eat…”

“AW!” the host cried out recalling that day he was in the wheelchair exactly. “I was actually out in the real world filming a big Hollywood production and…well I filled the part good but…my legs just couldn’t bare the pressure of being a celebrity.” he laughed silencing himself as his father showed him the last slide.

“Look at me! I am certainly a host who doesn’t blend in a crowd. Great Aunt Meral is behind me! I see her arm right there!” his son clapped obviously forgetting why they were watching this in the first place.

“Oh my goodness! How could I forget to show you the rest of my life! Crystal! Go back to the day Papa Hatter left! Show him everything!” the host suggested going behind his fathers desk to retrieve a bucket of already popped pop corn.

anonymous asked:

there's a picture of louis crying on gma our poor sunshine

i dont think hes crying… but he doesnt look good. his eyes are puffy… they’re covered in makeup to hide his bags, which kept having to get reapplied… his face looks bloated. he looks dehydrated and like the hasn’t been sleeping… he looks sad and done. he looked similar last night as well leaving lotties party. anyway…. not to like dislocate my shoulder from reaching so hard, but sugar bear is sad today too…  i guess thats what happens when your teams makes you fake a baby