rumble churn

anonymous asked:

aah i love your writings so much and im not exactly sure if we can still request for drabble prompts but how about a softer worlds 27 for kacchako ;_;? if the whole drabble thing is still valid huehue XD

A/N: Hey anon, thanks so much for those kind words! ^^ The drabble prompts were/are still valid but apologies since I know this is months after you requested it! Hopefully you find/enjoy this prompt and sorry again for taking a millennia to respond! >< Also warning for Bakugou-levels of cursing.

27. Our love is like.  Our love is only like. (I like you.  I don’t LIKE like you.)

He wondered if perhaps happiness was found in the small things, like the crinkle in her nose when she smiled, like the way his name sounds like a song when it’s her saying it and the way all the seasons in the year seemed to be dyed in memories of her. (Word Count: ~2200 words)

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Expired Milk

First prompt is by @savehannibal-willowg who wanted, “Post TWOL murder husbands first fight as husbands.” Enjoy!!


When you marry a man who has the same prestigious taste as Hannibal Lecter, you are bound to have small meaningless fights once in a while. And for Will, it starts with the most simplistic argument.

“It’s not expired.”

“Will, the milks expiration date has gone past by three days, you are not going to drink this.” Hannibal says, lifting the milk jug to his nose, taking a slight whiff at the scent.

Will laughs as Hannibal cringes, jerking his head back like a dog who just got snagged by a cat. He takes the jug from Hannibal’s hand, and sniffs it himself. It’s a little sour smelling, but it still smells fine to Will.

“I’m going to drink it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hannibal, you can’t control how I treat my life, if I want to drink expired milk by three days, then I’m going to drink the damn milk.” Will smiles, lifting the jug back to his lips. He almost chokes on the horrid look on Hannibal’s face, as he drinks from the jug.

God this is too much fun.

“If you get sick, I will not be helping you.” Hannibal ends, turning to stalk out if the kitchen. Possibly to go back to his study to sulk around, and mumbled poetry in French or German.

“I’m not going to get sick.” Will mumbles to himself, sipping at the milk again.


“Will can you come here for a minute.” Hannibal calls from one of the guest rooms.

Will is currently laying on the couch with a book in hand, their-well really his-new puppy Encephalitis, or Cephy for short, has been enjoying taking a nap on his stomach. He finds himself unable to move, since the puppy looks so adorable sleeping on his chest with her tongue poking out. Plus the sun feelings great on his skin, and it had taken him five minutes to find this comfortable spot, and to wait for Cephy to come jump on the couch. The poor little puppy corgi is too small to even reach the top cushion, often times she has to struggle a bit before one of them comes to her rescue.

So, with a great long sigh, and a quiet thought about ignoring Hannibal’s request and pretending to be asleep, he moves. Holding the little corgi pup in his arms, he carries the puppy in his arms, and follows Hannibal’s voice to the guest room.

He can’t help himself when he laughs.

Right in the corner where Hannibal stands, lays a small pile of dog shit.

Will lays, bending over to grab at his knee so he doesn’t fall, there’s a slight whine that comes from Cephy, he stands up straight so she doesn’t worry. Hannibal looks pissed, he stands their with his back straight, arms crossed and looking like a father about to scold their child.

“Will, we’ve discussed the issue about house training the dog.” He growls. “And here I come to find a pile of feces on the floor.”

“You can say shit, Hannibal, its not that bad of a word.” Will mumbles, still smiling about the shit. Only to frown as Hannibal’s glare darkness. “Well what did you expect, she’s only a pup, she doesn’t know better.”

“Will. We have discussed this, I will not have some four-legged beast roaming my house, and doing as she pleases on my carpets.”

“Four-legged-Do you know how mundane you sound right now. She’s a fucking dog, Hannibal, not some wild animal to be broken.” Will snapped, holding the trembling puppy to his chest.

“Please, Will, just have the dog trained within the next week-”

“Oh, so she’s just a dog right now, is she? We’ll I guess I’m just some crazed stranger living in your home then, no point in keeping me here, is there?”


“No, no. I get the memo, I’ll just go back to the couch I was laying on, and not worry about a thing. Cause, I guess I’m JUST a person, just like Cephy is just a dog!”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“I’m-! No! Goodbye.” Will turns on his feet, teeth clenched like an iron jaw, as he stomps back down the stairs and to the study. Hannibal stands where he left him, not following his lover down the stairs.


“Will do you mind doing the dishes, please?” Hannibal hums, stepping into the study, with a towel in hand as he dries off his hands. “I need to go finish up something.”

Will makes a small ‘hmp’, and sets his book down, as he moves past Hannibal towards the kitchen. Hannibal sighs, wishing he could just pull the other man into his arms, and kiss away his anger. Sadly, that only works on dogs, and small children.

He looks down when he hears a tinkling of metal coming towards him, to see Cephy scuttle on her tiny little feet up to him. She jumps up on his pants leg, pawing at him and making a small whine for acknowledgment.

“You are a rotten little beast,” He hums, leaning down to scratch at Cephy’s large ears, her butt wiggles in joy. “Rotten, rotten, rotten.”

There’s a slight noise behind Hannibal, as he stands up, turning to heat Will clearing his throat. Hannibal smiles sheepishly at him, but the man only glares at him some more.

“Don’t you have some ‘business’ to attend to.” He snaps, crossing sud covered arms.

Hannibal frowns, nods his head and leaves to walk back up the stairs. He frowns as he hears Will call for Cephy, and provides to baby talk her about a treat, and how Hannibal is a 'big ol’ grumpy man’.

“I’m not that old.” He mumbles to himself, as he turns to the direction of their shared bedroom.


Once Will finishes with the dinner, he climbs the stairs two at a time, making sure to miss the ones that will creak a little. He left Cephy down in the kitchen, snoring in her little doggi bed. He sneaks his way through the halls, peeping through every door to see if Hannibal is lurking in one of the rooms, only to find that his husband is nowhere upstairs.

Shrugging, he ignores any thoughts of the man, and makes his way to his bedroom.

“Damn it.”

Will steps come to a hold as he pushes the bedroom door open a little, his mind flounders at the sight of Hannibal. There he lays, like a stated lion at home with itself, naked saved for the blankets covering his waist. His reading glasses perch precariously on the bridge of his nose, while he holds a book up to his face. And the soft glow of the lamp light on him, only makes Will’s situation words.

Why did Hannibal have to be so charming. You know, why couldn’t he had been a little less charmer, so it was easier for Will to be mad at him, and not get a boner at the worst times.

“I can move to another room, if you do not wish to sleep in the same bed with me tonight.” Hannibal muses, bookmarking his place, as he sets the book to the side.

“No, it’s fine. You can stay.” Will states. In truth, he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep without having Hannibal next to him, he’s become like a second comfort blanket to him.

Hey slips under the sheets, turning his back to the man as Hannibal shuts the light off and settles down. His head screaming for him to just kick away his frustration, and ride the man like a stallion. Listening to their even breathes, he waits to see if Hannibal will reach over to him, but the man doesn’t even make a move to touch him.

“Fucking, damn it Hannibal.” Will growls, flinging his body to the side, as he settles on top of the prestigious asshole.


Will tugs at the man’s hair, pulling their faces together so he can kiss him, hard. Hannibal relaxed the instance their touch, his strong arms reaching up to grip at Will’s waist. He moans into his lips, open his mouth as Will’s tongue pokes through, and travels around his mouth.

“I hate how I never stay made at you, because your so god damn good looking.” Will hisses, pulling off of him to bite at Hannibal’s growing stubble.

“I couldn’t hate you even if I tried, mylimasis.” Hannibal moans, tugging at Will’s curls to pull his lips back to his own.

Will moans, his eyebrows furrowing as his stomach starts to churn and rumble. “Han, baby, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I know, I can’t stand it when you ignore me as well.” Hannibal groaned, bucking his hips up to Will’s.

“No, I mean-fuck!” Will, jumps up, running to the bathroom in their bedroom, and proceeds to vomit into the toilet. Hannibal lays dazed on the bed, snapping out of his haze as he hears Will vomit and groan.

“I told you the milk was bad.” He hums, standing up to assist his lover.

Will vomits again, making a pitiful noise as he leans against the cold metal. “Fuck you.” He mumbled.

“I love you too, mylimasis.” Hannibal says, grabbing a rag and setting it under some cold water. “Now come on, we need to clean you up.”

Drunken cuddles (Part 2).

@imagicana​: Reader is super cute and childish yet the same age as Hotch. She works for BAU and one day gets super drunk and Hotch has to take her home and they talk and end up making out/cuddling ?

Part 1

Originally posted by thomas-gibson-daily

The piercing sunlight danced across the bundled blankets, Y/N’s legs laced within them, alone. A soft, sleepy groan escaper her parted lips as she sat up, quickly falling back down due to the burning headache that attacked her sober head.

“Regret drinking?” Aaron chuckled lowly as he entered the room, bucket and damp rag in his hand. Before Y/N even had time to recognise his voice, a low rumble churned in her stomach. Aaron rushed to her side, thrusting the bucket into her hands as she sat up abruptly.

“Let it out.” Aaron uttered, rubbing her back firmly with one hand, the other brushing her knotted hair away from her reddening face. When she had emptied the content’s of her alcohol-filled stomach, she went to raise the back of her hand to wipe her mouth but her actions quickly halted when Aaron grasped her wrist. He lifted the damp rag to her mouth, softly wiping her tired face.

“Thank you.” Y/N whispered, voice groggy causing Aaron to grin subtly and nod his head. He pulled the bucket from her lap to put it down before brushing her hair away from her face once again.

“You need a bath.” Aaron chuckled lowly, making Y/N’s cheeks turn pink but still nodded her head in agreement, squinting her eyes at the intense pain in her head.

“I can’t even sit up without going dizzy.” She joked playfully, Aaron stood up while grabbing her hand, urging her to stand up. Y/N hesitantly obliged, thankful eyes flickering over his form as he wrapping his arm around her to steady her on her feet.

Aaron carefully sat her on the closed toilet as he began running the bath for her, he glanced back at her as she massaged her temples in agony. Playfully, Aaron picked her toothbrush up from the sink and held it out in front of the damaged girl.

“You need to.” He laughed, making Y/N swat his side and giggle softly.

“I need pain killers.” She groaned, yet took her toothbrush from Aaron willingly, rinsing the acidic taste of vomit burning the back of her throat. Aaron nodded and wandered into her bedroom, retaining the medication and glass of water from her bedside table.

“Aaron!” Y/N squealed, eyes wide as Aaron walked in on her when she took her top off. Aaron looked away, cheeks burning red as he held the water and pain killers out to her. Y/N observed his flushed face, guilt possessing her eyes as she gently took them from his hand, fingers brushing making her heart flutter.

“Thank you,” she whispered but as soon as the items left his hands he turned our of the bathroom. He sat on the edge of her bed, burying his head in his hand as he mentally cussed himself for thinking she could of actually been attracted to him. Aaron shook his head slightly, thinking whether or not he should leave her to her privacy but his mind fought against him. No, she needed him. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed her back last night but he longed for her touch once more.

While he was lost in haunting thoughts, he didn’t hear Y/N come back into the room, wrapped in a towel as she sat beside him, frowning at his tense form.

“Hey,” she nudged him softly, warm eyes fixated on his conflicted eyes as he look up at her. Mischief laced within her eyes as she tried to ease the man.

“Did we-?” Y/N joked, cocking her head to her side, a humorous smirk possessing her face making Aaron chuckle lightly, the bright smile sending butterflies to her stomach.

“Do you feel any better?” Aaron questioned sweetly, making Y/N nod slightly but the smile faded when the man stood up from the bed.

“Do you want me to leave you by yourself?” Aaron uttered, not meeting her expression as her lips parted, exhaling subtly in disappointment.

“Only if you want to leave.” She replied, voice hushed but her eyes intense on his fidgeting form as he furrowed his eyebrows. His lips parted, words failing to escape his tight throat.

“What is it?” Y/N whispered, standing up next to him, fingers mindlessly tracing up his arm. He met her eyes, deep eyes inspecting her blown pupils.

“I- you…” He exhaled deeply, “We kissed last night, I’m sorry. I know that you wasn’t in a position to make that decision but-” Before he could finish his rambling, Y/N placed her finger on his lips to silence him, voice hitching in his throat.

“Do you regret it?” Y/N asked with a quiet voice, as soon as Aaron shook his her slightly a small grin painted across his face. Wordlessly, she brought him closer to meet his lips softly. He smiled into the kiss, hands drifting to cup her face as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly before sucking her lower lip as he pulled away.

“Do you?” He questioned, a small chuckle escaping his throat when she locked her lips back onto his softly.

“Not at all.”


Tag list: @marvelfanlife @hellolividbliss @abschaffer2 @a-court-of-stydia @milkandcookies528 @xdiscombobulatedx @sophiiev @becky–dixon @theradkid @hotchnerfuckmeup @ashes-to-ashesx @hugs-and-fake-smiles @zugzwangcm-comment-account @louisespecter @estrblmkr @mishamgos @devilgirlsarah @coffeeandmistakes @drunk-fairytale @yourtropegirl@hangul-diaries

anonymous asked:

Would you be able to do a stuffing fic where A ends up getting sick And B has to help them but is all sweet and lovey even tho they are extremely turned on?

“I can’t eat anymore,” Lark whined, holding his stomach and looking up at Azzy miserably. Azzy didn’t seem convinced, though. He’d managed to force Lark to eat a lot more in one sitting than he’d eaten that night.

“Aw, come on. You can do better than that.” He raised another forkful to Lark’s lips.

Lark wrinkled his nose at the sight of the chicken. It was delicious, but his stomach just wasn’t having it. “Azzy, really, I can’t,” he insisted. “My stomach hurts.”

“Just one more bite,” Azzy crooned, his hand resting teasingly against Lark’s stomach.

“No!” Lark snapped, pushing Azzy’s hand away and turning away from him, clutching his belly. “Seriously, it really hurts,” he whimpered.

The atmosphere changed instantly. Azzy dropped the fork back onto the plate, scooting his chair closer to Lark’s and placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Lark? For real, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No, I feel really sick,” he groaned. “I thought it was because I was getting full, but it’s not. I think I might be sick for real…”

“Jesus, Lark, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Lark looked reluctant to answer, but Azzy’s stern, worried gaze pushed him to reply. “I didn’t want to ruin our night. I thought I’d be okay if I toughed it out. You cooked dinner and worked so hard…:”

“That doesn’t matter. We can always stop if you’re not feeling up to it, no matter what.” Azzy brushed Lark’s bangs aside, his hand lingering against his forehead. He definitely felt warm. “Can I get you anything? Or do you want to lie down?”

"I…I dunno,” Lark sighed. “Maybe I should lay down…”

“Bed or couch?” Azzy asked, helping Lark to his feet. Even without finishing his meal, the boy’s stomach stretched painfully over the waistband of his sweatpants, making it difficult for him to stand up straight.

“Bed. The bedroom’s closer to the bathroom,” he said, miserably holding his stomach while Azzy helped him start walking.

“You’re feeling that bad?” Azzy’s chest tightened, and he mentally kicked himself for not noticing Lark’s condition sooner. As much as he enjoyed seeing Lark feeling poorly, there was a huge difference between Azzy playfully stuffing him until he felt sick and Lark being full-on ill.

Lark nodded, frowning deeply. They made it to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, where Lark immediately laid his head on Azzy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” Azzy looped his arm around Lark’s shoulders. “Do you need anything? Water or something? Or I could see if I have some medicine.”

“Yeah…medicine, if you have any.”

Azzy gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before heading to the bathroom in search of medicine. He found nothing in the cabinet behind the mirror. Ditto the towel closet. He made a mental note to stock up later.

After rummaging around a bit more, he managed to find a thing of tums. It wasn’t much, but maybe it would provide some relief.

He was just about to head back to the bedroom when he heard Lark’s wavering voice call out for him. A second later, unsurprisingly, Azzy heard an unmistakable heave.

When he made it into the room, Lark was on his hands and knees. It looked like he’d tried to make it to the bathroom before he’d started heaving, but hadn’t made it far.

“Azzy,” he whimpered, holding his stomach and barely managing to hold himself up with one arm. “I’m gonna be sick. I need to get to the bathroom.” He looked paler than when Azzy had left him, already starting to break out in a sweat.

Azzy cursed, tossing the bottle of meds onto the dresser and immediately dropping down beside him. “You’re alright, babe, let’s get you to the bathroom.” He hoisted Lark to his feet, practically dragging him to the bathroom across the hall. It was a short distance, but it was nearly too far for Lark to handle. The moment Azzy put him down in front of the toilet, Lark was retching into it, drool dripping past his lips.

As much as it pained him to see Lark sick, Azzy couldn’t deny that part of him loved it. There was nothing he wanted more than to take Lark back to the bedroom and end the night the way they’d intended. But right now Lark was miserable, and he needed Azzy to be there to comfort him.

He heaved, his back arching, and this time managed to bring up a rush of chunky vomit. Azzy patted his back as he coughed, choking up another smaller wave.

“Jeez, Lark…”

“I’m so sorry,” Lark choked, wiping tears out of his eyes with a trembling hand.

“Dude, it’s fine. People get sick, it’s not your fault.” He pressed a hand to Lark’s forehead. Definitely warm. “Do you think you’re done?” he asked gently.

Lark shook his head miserably.

“It’s okay,” Azzy assured. “Take your time.”  

Lark burped, leaning forward over the toilet. Azzy felt his muscles contract as his body heaved, trying to force up the substantial meal he’d eaten. Unable to help himself, Azzy placed his palm against Lark’s swollen stomach. He felt the organ rumble and churn as Lark burped again.

“Poor baby,” Azzy murmured.

“I really don’t feel well,” Lark moaned. As if he could sense Azzy’s excitement, Lark shifted back to grind against him. Azzy sucked in a breath, but he placed a hand on Lark’s shoulder, stopping him.

“You really don’t have to do this. You’re sick, and you–”

“It’s fine.” Lark glanced back at him. He was sweaty and pale, but his smile was mischievous. “Might as well have some fun with it, right?”

bonzu-no-shinai  asked:

10 HUGELY-MASSIVE that squish your insides Or 1000 Larger-than-chicken-eggs slime eggs that vibrate Please i need to know, and I'd love to see Dash carring them (that is if you want to draw, you dont have to)

Awwww maaaaan my preferences changes with my mood on this one but typically the slime eggs are more my speed…

…And dang I am just tOO lazy to whip out my sketchin stuff but I can paint you a word-picture hehe:

I’m thinking the eggs would start out basically microscopic, suspended in a capsule that Dash would take, as per usual… And then over the course of the next 24 hours, his belly would begin to rumble and churn, and then throb as the pressure of hundreds of growing eggs pushes against his organs and muscles. By day three his engorged abdomen would reach past his lap, and he’d likely be reduced to lying in bed and moaning into a pillow as his gut trembles and jitters and bloats.

Doin this AMA thing, hit up my box! –>

How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 8)

Rating: E for Explicit/NSFW Content! (Vaguely and Briefly This Chapter)

Check it out on AO3!

You’d think a video game lawyer could just drop into a pseudo-medieval universe filled with magic and demons and be totally okay with it, right?


In the wake of her brother, Spencer’s, disappearance, Belle dropped into Thedas with luggage, but without a clue. After a brief but memorable panic attack, she resolved to be the best goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. Even if she was the only goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. And even if that obstinate asshole, Cullen, wouldn’t stop giving her the side-eye every time she walked into a room…Or every time he walked into a room with her in it…Or every time they walked into a room together…Or–Fuck it. You get it.

Chapter 8: The Things that Hurt

Cullen might have heard the slap before he felt its sting. But he did feel the sting. He felt his face reddening under the handprint Belle left on his cheek. Her fingers had been splayed out. They caught every inch of skin they touched, and some inches they hadn’t touched. He’d been slapped like that before. It stayed with him for the rest of his days. He had little doubt this moment, too, would be burned into his mind until the day he died.

He watched her through the door she left open behind her. He watched her march off to her tower in tears because of him. He watched her slam her door so hard he thought it would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces—the same way he thought his heart would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

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Danny's stomach flu

WARNINGS: includes vomit, diarrhea, and sexual content.


Danny woke up feeling achy and a little
nauseous. He wrote it off as not getting enough sleep, and rolled over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. Elijah smiled in his sleep, his one dimple making its appearance.

Danny sat up and stretched, noticing his stomach was gurgling. He got up and made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he sat down on the toilet, a watery mess erupted from his backside. He frowned, clutching his stomach as it cramped. He hadn’t been sick in years. Way before him and Elijah got together. Their two year anniversary was on the horizon, and even though Danny had taken care of a sick Elijah multiple times, Elijah had never once seen him sick. Elijah was sick often, catching every stomach virus coming and going. He also got very bad motion sickness, unable to ride in the car for long distances, or even stomach the thought of a roller coaster.

Danny cleaned himself up and flushed, spraying air freshener around the bathroom so Elijah wouldn’t smell what he had just done. Elijah was standing there when he opened the door, however, and the smell of diarrhea and citrus air freshener hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Damn, Danny. Did something crawl inside you and die throughout the night?” Elijah teased, giving Danny a quick peck on the lips and putting a hand on his cheek. He frowned as he pulled away. “You feeling ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. “Why?”

“Well, you’re a little warm.”

“Oh, it’s probably just from being under the blanket,” he lied. Elijah smiled and kissed him again. It was Saturday, and the both of them had the day off. Elijah scooted past Danny for his usual morning routine, and Danny went to lay back down. It was like someone had put a bag of pop rocks straight into his stomach. It rumbled and churned as he lay there, a hand laid carefully over his belly.

Elijah came back 30 minutes later and started to get dressed, giving Danny a worried look. “Don’t forget we have lunch with-” he was cut short as Danny got to his feet and hurriedly walked back to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He sat heavily on the toilet, and more watery shit poured out of him. Danny wrapped his arms around his middle, bending double.

Elijah tapped on the door. “Baby? You ok?” He asked sweetly. It almost brought tears to Danny’s eyes.

“I think so. Don’t come in, ok?” He called back. He was hot. Unbearably hot, all of a sudden. His stomach flipped and he pressed his fist to his lips. Not now, he thought, please gods not now. The bathroom trash can had been moved into the bedroom after Elijah’s last bout of stomach flu, and Danny looked frantically for something to vomit in.

“Uurp…” A watery burp splashed acid at the back of his throat. Without any other alternative, he grabbed a towel off the rack, doubled it over, and dropped it to the floor. Danny leaned in between his knees, drooling onto the towel.

Elijah hadn’t moved from his spot on the other side of the door, listening worriedly. Danny’s first few gags were quiet and unproductive. The fourth gag, however, sent a small watery splash of puke onto the towel.

“Heeeuuurrllll!!” The next heave was violent, and loud, sending a brownish colored wave of puke onto the towel, and up his legs. It was then that Elijah opened the door, coming to his boyfriend’s side. He pushes Danny’s hair off his forehead and rubbed his back.

“No, you don’t need to- uuurrrrkkk!!” Danny heaved another tidal wave onto the towel, cutting him off mid sentence.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to take care of you, just like you do for me. Now just let it out” Elijah soothed. He might not have a strong stomach otherwise, but he was a nurse, so vomit was the one thing that didn’t phase him. Danny sent a couple smaller waves into the puddle between his feet, and then was wracked with violent dry heaves.

“Hurk!! Huuurk!!” Elijah frowned, rubbing his boyfriend’s back.

“I think you’re empty, love…” he said. Danny swallowed thickly a couple times, before his stomach finally settled for the time being.

“Eww,” he said to the mess between his feet. “I ruined my favorite towel…” The towel was soaked, and despite his best efforts, Danny still had managed to get some vomit on the floor, and the wall directly across from him.

“Let’s get you in bed. I’ll clean up in here,” he said, helping Danny get cleaned up with a warm, wet washcloth. Danny was all of a sudden exhausted, and let Elijah not only wipe the vomit from his legs, but he let him gently clean up his butt as well. After flushing and helping Danny to bed, Elijah got to work on the bathroom.

He was almost done wiping down the floor, when Danny showed up in the doorway, his face cast with a shade of green. “Toilet, this time, love,” Elijah said, guiding the older man to the toilet and helping him stoop down.

Somehow, much to Elijah’s surprise, Danny still have enough in him to send several good sized waves into the toilet bowl. They repeated this process several times throughout the day. Elijah had gone to the store to get Gatorade and Pepto-Bismul, and when he got back, he found Danny was awake again, and vomiting forcefully into the toilet. He drank at least a couple glasses of water, and one bottle of Gatorade since his last episode a few hours ago. Danny had thought he was feeling better until a burp sent him running back to the bathroom.

“Heeeuuurrrlllll!!!!” Elijah rushed up the stairs and took to rubbing Danny’s back. Bright blue vomit was splashed on the floor beside the toilet, and all of the seat and tank.

“Oh, baby… you’re really sick…” Elijah frowned, perching himself on the edge of the tub as Danny hurled his soul. The next thing surprised the both of them. During a particularly violent heave, another sound accompanied it. Danny was shitting his pants, watery diarrhea soaking his boxers.

“Noooo!” Danny wailed, tears running down his cheeks. Danny very rarely cried, but between how horrible he felt and his embarrassment, he couldn’t help it.

“It’s ok baby. It’s fine. This stuff happens. As soon as you get done, we’ll get you into the shower,” Elijah assured him, placing a towel under Danny’s ass as he let loose more diarrhea.

After 5 minutes or so, Danny was done, and sobbing heartbreakingly into the toilet. “I’m so embarrassed…”

“Danny, no! It’s ok, it’s me. It’s just me. You’ve been through this sort of thing with me, and it didn’t even phase you. It’s alright. It happens,” he said, helping Danny to his feet. He undressed him, and for him into the shower, joining him under the hot water. Elijah ran his hands over the taller man’s muscular back, kissing between his shoulder blades.

“How can you even touch me right now…?” Danny groaned. Elijah blushed. He’d never told Danny about his fetish, mostly because he situation had never arose. He was usually the one that was sick, so there was never a time for him to explain. He didn’t enjoy being sick himself.

“Well… if I tell you, you might run for the hills,” he said, looking at his feet. Danny turned and lifted his chin, smiling weakly.

“I knew it. Somehow, I knew it. I kept thinking, there’s no way I could be so lucky as to be with an emetophile like me. Yet here you are,” he said, reading Elijah’s mind. Elijah’s eyes grew wide.

“L-Like you? So you’re…?” He asked. Danny nodded, smiling. He leaned in and placed a kiss on Elijah’s lips, his hands running down Elijah'a body. Elijah felt a wave of relief, and then of arousal as Danny’s hands ran down his belly. Danny’s hands found Elijah’s dick, and Elijah let out a soft moan.

“Want to? Or are you afraid I’ll puke on you?”

“You’re joking right? I would totally love for you to puke on me!” Elijah admitted, blushing again. Danny grinned and pushed his boyfriend up against the wall of the shower, kissing down his neck. He felt around for Elijah’s asshole, and finally pushed his dick into it. Elijah moaned as they rocked together.

Danny laid his head against the shower wall, burping wetly. Another burp sent a gush of blue vomit over Elijah’s shoulder and down his chest.

“Oh my gods,” Elijah moaned, running his hands through it.

“Heeuurrll!!” Danny heaved again, sending a smaller wave over his boyfriend’s body. A few dry heaves followed, and he came hard into Elijah’s ass. The two men washed off, and Elijah forced Danny, who insisted he felt better, into bed. Elijah smiled as he snuggled into Danny’s back. He was one lucky guys


Let me know what you guys think! This was my first story, so I’d love some feedback on what to change or do different or so better!


I said I wasn’t going to write anymore of this but I was mad that I forgot to add Tord into the first fic. So I had to write another one. But this is the last one. No more.
Also I didn’t edit this one either and it was written in a couple of hours so it’s probably garbage.


Tord coasted his bike through the dunes, pausing at the edge of the Big Nothing to check no one was around. The silence of the wasteland danced around him and, with a decisive snort, pulled his helmet down, readjusted his breathing mask, and kicked the bike into gear. It rumbled and churned up the dust and sand as he turned into the searing white of the Big Nothing.

This was a dangerous route to take as it was easy to get lost and turned around in the Big Nothing but Tord wasn’t straying too far from the border. He was just taking the back way home. It wasn’t often that he went out by himself as it was generally discouraged but he’d needed parts for his latest project. Parts that only Jeet’s people had. He’d had some goods to trade and the deal had gone down without a hitch. He didn’t want the other involved, he didn’t want them to know, didn’t want them to get hurt somehow.

He was probably being an idiot.

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1st Request Requested by Futurechubbymagicalgirl

“UGH ~ My head!” I groaned, as I started coming to after suffering that terrible blow to the head. Reaching up a hand to touch the aching spot on my head, I flinched a bit as I came into contact with something that felt like where i’d been hit, making me hiss loudly from the pain.

“Damn, must’ve been a nasty fall, or something…”

I tried standing up, but noticed my hands and feet were tied down to a chair, with ropes around my wrists and feet.

“What the hell?!” I shook, but saw no indication that it helped.

I began to rock back and forth, but still, saw nothing that showed I was making any progress in freeing myself.

“Shit! Whoever did these ropes, they sure knew what they were doing,” I reluctantly complimented my now-kidnapper. Sighing angrily.

“Why thank you, I wasn’t sure if I did a good enough job when tying you down, but now I can see that I did do a good job afterall,” a woman said emerging from the shadows, and stepping into the light. She was clad in skimpy shorts that hugged her ass, leaving little to the imagination, and a white top, that was obviously too small for her ample cleavage, which were lifted so far up they exposed her toned midriff.

I gasped, as I recognized her, as that strange woman my friends always pointed out spying on me whenever we hung out. I’d always assumed she was shy or something, so to find out that she’s a stalker was…surprising, to say the least. The hints foreshadowing it were obvious, but i’d never thought to actually look into it.

“Yes, Brandon my love, you’ve seen me many a night before, but despite recognizing my face you don’t know the name that belongs to it…” She stepped closer, strutting in a way that I was hypnotized by the swinging in her hips, and the bouce of her boobs.

She stopped in front of me, and looked down at me, as I looked up at her towering form, shooting me a wide smile, before starting to circle the chair. Her hand brushing along my arm, letting me feel her nails. Behind the chair, she leaned down, and softly whispered, “…though, there’ll be plenty of time for us to learn the other’s names, soon enough” into my ear. My body tensing up at that, fearing what she meant by that.

I heard her reaching into a pocket, and tried looking behind me to get a glimpse of what it was, but I failed to see anything. Then, as I turned back, she suddenly shoved something into my mouth, and forced me to swallow! Cupping my mouth to ensure I didn’t spit it back out. Resistance was useless, and I ended up swallowing the pill. Her hands letting go after she heard me GULP it down. Shooting me another content smile.

“Good ’‘boy”.“ She patted my head, and walked off, dissapearing into the darkness for a few minutes, before she was heard returning, as she pulled out a chair, and sat down in it. Supprting her chin with her hand, as she just sat there staring at me with a happy, but creepy smile.

I sat there for a couple minutes, before both out attention was suddenly drawn towards my stomach after we both heard it growl, rumble, and gurgle, hungrily. Her smile becoming a little more phsycotic, and my dread getting worse and worse.

She then pushed out a cart, which she parked in front of me. To my horror it was all unhealthy sweets like cupcakes, muffins, donuts. There was even an entire plate that had nothing but chocolate cake on it, and another that was nothing but cookies.

She picked up one of the cookies, and began feeding it to me. I averted my head, and tried to keep my mouth as far away from the cookie as possible, but my stomach started acting up, rumbling again, but this time with hunger pains. My mouth trembled, and I slowly turned back, opened my mouth, and watched her beam at me, as she was allowed to feed me the cookie. However, as I chewed, I was apperantly too slow, as she already had another cookie ready. Seeing her face turn from happy to angry was somehow worse than the smileing, and I picked up the pace, chewing it as fast as possible, and swallowed. Immediatly opening my mouth, and watching her smile in response, before inserting the second cookie.

This continued for the rest of our time togehter. She feeds me food, and gives me barely any time to take my time in eating it, as she immediatly stands ready with more. I dare not anger her, as I know that she’s the kind of stalker that’s somehow worse if you piss her off.

My fast-pace eating was too much for my belly, and I noticed, that after just five minutes of her force feeding me, it felt tighter. A worse sight greeted me when I looked down, and my eyes widened in horror as I watched it had visibly swelled bigger. Having grown into a chubby muffin top in just fifteen minutes.

She seemed to realize this too, as she pushed the cart out of the way, and leaned forward. Putting her arms around my bloated waist, and hugging it. Moaning softly as she leaned against my fat, hugging it in a loving fashion.

’'Perfect, Brenda…just perfect.”

While hugging me, my body felt strange. I’d never felt like this while she was feeding me, so my best guess it had something to do with her stopping. It spread throughout my body like a mild itch, warming my face, arms, legs, chest, butt, and especially my belly.

I wanted these sensations to stop, but to do that, I needed her to resume feeding me. It was the complete oppisite of what I wanted, and I should’ve probably been a lot more grateful that she even bothered to give me a break, but the current situation with my body was too much for me, and I just wanted it to stop.

I shook my belly a little, which just resulted in her looking up at me with a blank stare.

However, that blank expression soon dissapeared after I said “Hey, keep feeding me. Come on, you’re taking too long, you’re taking too long” and she just stood back up.

She resumed feeding me, and the sensations stopped, which I thought was weird, but whatever. I just chewed my food, and then swallowed it so she could keep feeding me more cookies, and the other sweets she’d brought out.

Every bite was tasty, and if not for all the calories i’d gain from this, I would’ve frankly seen no problem with her feeding me, and pampering me like this. Me, gradually beginning to moan with every treat she feed me, and losing myself more and more to the soft, delicious flavors of all the sweets.

After feeding me for another hour, she finally stopped feeding me, as she could apperantly tell that i’d had enough, and was “Full enough” as she put it. However, seeing as all the food i’d spent this last hour letting her cram down my throat hadn’t filled even a quarter of my stomach, I was ready to argue that claim-


But as I opened my mouth to speak, my belly rumbled loudly, and both our eyes looked down at it. A wide smile settled on her face, and she quickly got leaned down and hugged my bloated muffin top, whispering “Don’t worry, soon you won’t have to worry with pants anymore” to me as she rubbed my belly, before standing back up, and backing away from me.

“H-hey, where are you going?! Why are you-”


My belly, though, beat me to the punch, as it growled again, gurgling and churning, as well. The heat began up, and I felt it spreading throughout my body again, and I didn’t like it.

“No! HRNG” I groaned. Being so agitated by the heat that I shook the chair.

It continued to build inside me, until it erupted like a mighty explosion, and sent sudden waves of heat pulsating through my body! My stomach, chest, butt, arms and legs, and face all started to throb, wildly, at this.

First, it started in my face, where my cheeks became smoother, and thicker, a double chin settling underneath my face, which was rapidly become more and more feminine by the second.

Secondly, it happened in my chest, where I bore witness to my previously small chest pushing out, and growing into rounder, fatter orbs, whose newly enlarged nipples poked against the fabric, and lifted up my shirt, transforming it into a make-shift bra for my new H-cup breasts.

Then, I lifted in my seat as my butt started to grow, swelling up with fat like a balloon would with air, and gaining back some height, my expanding hips pressed against the chair’s sides, causing all the fat to lift me up even more, and begin overflowing the chair.

Next, my restraints got tighter as my once-thin arms and legs grew layered with more blubber and pudge i’d ever seen on a woman, my fingers blowing up into thick sausage-fingers, that tried to flail. My thighs rubbed up against each other, squeezing my poor cock to the point of threatening to smother it, but that pain shortly disipated as I lost all feeling in my cock, and it shrunk back up inside me, where it was remolded into a pair of soft vaginal lips. Rips and tears surged up alongside the sides of my pants, giving the fat plenty of room when the pants grew too full.

And lastly, my already chubby gut surged forward, spreading across my legs like a damn bursting it’s banks, my shirt being lifted every second as more and more fat settled on it. Due to the tight space of the chair, my belly sunk down inbetween my legs, where it parted my legs to make room for it to grow, but, painfully, pressed my legs up against the chair’s sides. It was tight and painful for a few seconds, but fortunatly I was saved by my swelling body completly destroying the chair by becoming too big (and heavy) for it to contain (or lift) anymore. My pant’s buttons lasted for a while, but not even my old “boy clothes” could contend with my ever-fattening body, and was ultimatly torn to shreds at the same time as my massive body destroyed the chair.

“Eep!” I meeped, as I violently burst through my clothes, freeing my body from the confines of the pants, but also destroying what was sitting me up in the process. And I fell with a mighty thud to the floor, but the landing was a smooth one, as my fat behind was so thick, that even falling onto the floor just made it jiggle, and sent ripples through my fat belly.

Standing up from her chair, the woman, immediatly rushed over to my side, and extended a hand to help me, but I was too busy holding my enormously spread belly’s sides. Gripping my chunky love handles by accident, and moaning as I felt the food finally settling into my belly. Fortunatly, it did nothing to increase my already immense size, but as all that food packed itself into my abdomen, I could only groan and moan in discomfort as the thought So this is how fat people feel after visiting the buffet.

“Come now, Brenda, let mommy Veronica help you up,” said the woman as she tried lifting my fat, but was obviously not strong enough to lift something as huge and heavy as me.

I shoot her an infuriated glare, and wanted nothing more but for this bitch to leave me alone, and fuck off to wherever, but at the same time I wasn’t too keen on her leaving me here all alone, and then returning a couple hours later.

It took every ounce of strength to lift a body this morbidly obese and heavy, but after fifteen minutes of trying, I was once again standing up on my feet. She complimented me on my devotion, and lifted my large sack of fat and pudge, and helped my carry it as she guided us towards a large door. I’d hoped they were stairs, but seeing as I needed to get re-oriented with such a thick and heavy body, I needed her help.

She lead me down a corridor that got narrower and narrower, before opening a door at the end of it, and leading me inside. I was heavily panting and sweating like a pig when she positioned my in front of something that I could just barely make out in the darkened room, before she then positioned herself in front of me, and pushed me down onto it. My large rear bouncing and jiggling like mad from the impact, but she just giggled at this, and happily walked over to the door, and pressed a button on the wall, causing lights to switch on, revealing the room as being all read, with a giant black bed (which was the one I was currently sitting atop) and a strange machine above, that had an extendable hose that went down to my mouth.

She giggled, and walked towards the bed, maintaining constant eye-contact with me, as she reached up, and pulled the hose down, before, again, shoved it into my mouth! My arms were so fat and heavy, and I was already exhausted from having walked all the way here, that there was little I could do to stop her.

“Don’t worry, Love Hostage, i’m not feeding you anymore tonight…” then, as she continued to speak, her eyes narrowed, and tone immediatly shifted, “-I just want to make it clear that you are no longer in a position to make demands, I am, i’m your only source of food, i’m your only source of pleasure, and i’m the only one that’ll truly love your for being a fat, bloated whale,” a smile was briefly seen on her face, as she gripped her fleshy love handles, pinching them a bit, “-and I think you’ll find that i’m better to have as a friend than an enemy, are we clear?”

Quickly, I nodded back, making my gratuituosly fat third chin jiggle. She smiled, and took the hose out of my mouth.

“Good, now i’ll let you have a good night’s rest for tomorrow, since I know you’re gonna need it more than me.”

Walking backwards off the bed, she headed for the door, maintaining constant eye-contact with me. Shooting me a wide and creepy smile, before turning off the lights, and exiting room.

I wanted to sob, but was too tired and exhausted from having to use that much energy. Instead, I just fell alseep there and then.


For the next couple days, I slowly started to crasp why she’d refeered to me as “Love Hostage” on the night that I was transformed. The explain is really quite disgustingly simple: i’m not the hostage, but she is! She is the one that’s trapped in a red and dark room, and can’t get out.

She had so much pent-up sexual arousal that she frequently had sex with me, whether it was in the morning, where she’d insert the feeding tube into my mouth, and force me to eat my breakfeast while she dominated my thick butt with a strap-on, or even just have my lay on my back, and fuck my pussy in a way that was more relaxing for me than doing it on all fours.

There was hardly any eating involved, until a week passed since my transformation, where she slowed down on the sex, but instead filled the red room with food for me to devour.

Most of the feeding was handled by the feeding machine, but during lunch and dinner, she always tended to it herself. Using her finger to scoop up cream, tease me with slices of cake, and on the rarest of occasions, eat the food, herself, so that my desperate pleading was real and authentic.

She truly was truly a devilish human at times, but I developed something of a fondness for the things she wasn’t forcing me to do.

Most of what she made me do was eat until I felt full to bursting, and then forcing me down on all fours, and fucking me. My taut belly was far from happy, but given my current situation it could have been a lot worse.

My new name “Brenda” became used less and less as the weeks turned into months. “Love Hostage” was the most frequently used name, and frankly, I cared more for that name than I did for “Brenda”. Brenda was just any other woman that this naughty bitch might have lured to her “caves of thrills”, but Love Hostage was a unique name, a name for someone that is unable to escape. Even if the door was open, and she could walk, she’d be unable to leave this place, and why should she? What’s for her out there that her mistress cannot provide for her in here?

After getting used to a life of indulging and being pampered, why would she want to go back to her former life?

There’d be too much work involved at this point, and there’d be too few rewards to reep. Her creepy-stalker-feeder-turned-mistress has now given her something else: a lazy lifestyle. A life that she’ll be difficult in seperating from at how involved they’ve become.

novorehere  asked:

But what about Enormous tight, engorged bellies quaking beneath the weight of the food packed within... The belly gurgling, trying to process the meal... The shifting contents forcing up a burp and a moan, followed by a shy "excuse me." And the best part is, you've got front row seats to the show I'm just having so many stuffing feels rn AAAAAAAA

Being pressed against that tight, full, round belly, able to hear all the food churning and rumbling about in that massive gut, while the poor owner of that stuffed belly is moaning slightly, begging for you to rub their aching tummy. You oblige happily, rubbing the hardworking belly for them, able to feel all the rumblings and grumblings of a stuffed-taut and yet still soft belly underneath you, even able to feel it with your entire body since you’re pressed against their tum, able to listen to all the noises of the stomach sloshing around all the food! If you close your eyes while rubbing their tummy, you can almost imagine that you’re in there with all the food churning and being mushed around! They burp again, and you can’t help but kiss and rub that stuffed belly, while they sigh happily and hug you close to the absolutely stuffed tummy, and both of you fall asleep to their loud, noisy belly~


miraculous-chat-n0ir-deactivate  asked:

"How long have you been throwing up for" or "I've never seen you this sick" Adrienette because I am trash for sick Adrien. Please? (Love your other works by the way)

“How long have you been throwing up for?” Adrien with some care from Natalie and maybe Marinette too

While the cold tiled floor sent even more shivers throughout his body, Adrien’s first concern was how much longer his insides could continue to push themselves outside.

He was exhausted to the point where laying his head on the toilet seat was better than holding himself up while he threw up.

He’d missed school today, much to Nathalie’s chagrin. They hadn’t bothered to tell Gabriel, because there was honestly no point, and surprisingly, Nathalie had stepped up as Adrien’s caretaker, making sure he was drinking as many fluids as he was losing and making sure he had enough blankets to wrap around him while he kneeled in front of the toilet. She usually left him after that, but to Adrien, it was the most human contact he’d received in his own house in ages.

A gentle knock outside the bathroom door brought him out of his reverie. He mumbled his assent to enter, his throat burning with a hoarse voice.


His head snapped up at the familiar voice, his hand flying to his mouth to muffle a queasy burp, his other cradling his stomach.

Marinette stood there, a ziploc full of papers clutched to her chest—his homework if Adrien had to guess. She crossed the bathroom warily, each step slow and deliberate. Adrien would have to thank her later for not upsetting his vertigo.

She kneeled down beside him, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder. “How long have you been throwing up for?”

Adrien had to take a moment to swallow down his nausea before he could speak. “Since this morning,” he croaked. He didn’t know what time it was now, but if Marinette was here, it was likely that school was finished for the day.

“Do you think you’re finished?”

He nodded. His stomach was still churning and rumbling, but his nausea was fading, maybe even enough that he could finally go to sleep.

Marinette grabbed him by the elbow and hauled his gently to his feet. “I brought your homework,” she said, her voice quiet, “but—”

“Thanks, Marinette,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “Really.”

He was only vaguely aware of being tucked into bed, a trash can stowed on the floor just in case. It had been a long day, but he hoped the worst of it was finally over. He heard Marinette mutter a quiet goodnight, before his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

choconut4ever  asked:

Constantly trying to get her jealous never seems to work Johnny/Darcy

This took so long and there’s no excuse other than real life getting in the way. Hope it’s what you were looking for, all those weeks ago!

Best, Laura


It’s not that his plans are horrible. In fact, 9 times out of 10, they get results. But he’s finding that she bunks all tradition and he can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. No really, he can’t. Because it’s exciting to find a woman that is hot as he is and has a wit that won’t stop.

But it’s also exasperating. Because if she doesn’t fall into his rules, how is he supposed to know how to react?

He doesn’t, is the problem. He really, really doesn’t know how to.

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Just a little thing :3

Happy belated birthday to @aya-eisen, who’s been through hell and back this year, hopefully things will be so much better in the upcoming year! <3

Levy could’ve sworn the fates were against her that day- no, that week. She sighed as she pulled her Pontiac into the nearest parking lot, red and blue light reflecting off of the crooked rear view mirror. ‘Pleeeease don’t die now,’ she begged the old car as it clunked to a rest, shuddering as she twisted the key back and turned off the engine. She bit her lip as the cruiser pulled up behind her, silently cursing the cop that had decided to tag her in his quota for the day. She hoped that whoever it was would have a little bit of sympathy, she was broke and already late for her shift. If she was lucky, her car would start on the first attempt rather than the third or fourth.  

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Mr. Dan Isn't on Whatever

A/N: I actually really liked writing this, probably because this is the first time in a while since I last wrote. Anyways, you will not get the title until the middle-ish sorry. Enjoy!

I had an interview for a law school that day and I had planned that nothing would interfere or ruin my chances for one of the best opportunities in my life. I put on my most professional clothes, which was a poorly ironed ruffled white shirt messily tucked into a black pencil skirt that made my hips look wider than I preferred. My hair was curled then put into a messy bun that was supposed to look smart, but I think that was more of an attempt than a accomplishment.

The appointment was fairly early; a bit earlier than I intended because it was at 12:00, the time I usually woke up. By 11:15, I rushed out the door to head to the tube, bringing an old suitcase that held notes and possible interview questions along with me.

Like always, it was terribly busy in the station, so I had to once again force myself through the crowd, which was more of a struggle for short people like me.

When I checked times for deportation, my lips twitched into a frown to see that after leaving 45 minutes early, the first deportation to Baker Street was 11:46, a twenty five minute wait around this hectic swarm of people. None of the benches were available and my feet were surprisingly already aching in the heels I idiotically chose to slip on.

I trudged outside of the station to the nearest bench or bus stop that could potentially take me to Baker ahead of time. I found one out of two of the things listed; a bench.

Not wanting to be late, I constantly checked the time on my phone, but the time would stick. It was like the one day I wanted time to go ahead, time decided to go extremely lag-like.

After five minutes of paranoia passed by, I checked my social medias, where of course, no new posts would pop up in my dash or home spot. Since the only thing that could take up time left was Flappy Bird, I reluctantly started it up.

Flappy bird was the most life ruiningly annoying game ever invented, but its simplicity influenced my addiction to it, as you would tell from my high score of 56. The game actually took up plenty of time because when I checked the time once more, I had only three minutes before the tube arrived.

While it was a hassle to even get inside of the station, I successfully came just in time; although all of the seats had been taken up, standing was not a problem.

At last, everyone had boarded and the soft rumble began churning beneath me. My attention was mainly on Flappy Bird, because it had become my life’s duty to get my high score bumped up to sixty.

“Flappy Bird? God, I hate that game,” some guy remarked.

My head snapped up in alert, then I came to see a tall man. He had on a grey hoodie with cute cat ears pricked at the end of the hood. Besides that, his eyes were a soft brown, which made them seem almost feminine in a way.

I realized that I was simply staring at him in my own world, which made me cringe (on the inside) at my embarrassing actions.

“Um, yeah, sometimes it just makes me want to throw my phone against the wall, but it’s ever so addictive,” I laughed, hoping to make my already awkward situation lighter.

“What’s your high score?” he asked.

“Fifty eight, trying to get to sixty. What’s yours?”

“Wow, I thought I was good, I only have fourteen!”

There were some chuckling, but a silence dawned upon us, which gave me a chance to think. The guy seemed vaguely familiar, but then it all clicked.

“Are you-,”

“Danisnotonfire? yes,” he cut me off.

“No no, Dan Howell from BBC?”

“Oh. Oh, yes, yeah, I’m that too, sorry for cutting you off, I’m not normally like that, sorry.” He flustered.

“No, it’s fine, but you have another persona? Mr. Dan Isn’t on Whatever,” I giggled.

“I do YouTube, which is basically my job, and of course my fourteen year old self stuck with that username, which I cringe to this day.”

“I haven’t been on YouTube in forever, heh. But I do tune into your radioshow with Phil Lester as often as I can,” I admitted. It was one of my guilty pleasures.

“Well, thank you, then. It’s actually refreshing to hear that someone knew me from the radioshow first.”

“Anyways, what serious business are you attending to, at least I can tell by your outfit,” Dan inquired.

“I’m going to an interview for law school,” I said while straightening my skirt.

“Law, my worst enemy,”

“What, why?”

“My YouTube videos explain all of my fails with law, so you can checkout Danisnotonfire, not ‘Dan Isn’t on Whatever’,” he smirked.

I was taken back by his admirable smirk, but it was probably the jolt from the tube stopping. Something tugged within me when we were at my stop, but I carried on smiling.

“This is my stop,” I choked out.

“Oh, okay. Wait, I didn’t even get you name,” he quickly stated.

“It’s (Y/N).”

Dan suddenly grabbed my arm before I left, pulling me behind for a second.

“I’d like to see you on here more often.” he winked.

I stared him in the eyes, our faces inches apart, then left.

I just left.

When I reached the pavement, I reflected on our conversation, his pink lips forming into such a devious smirk, and the strong scent of gum when we were dangerously close.

I hated this yearning that would pang through me everyday. While my rationality understood and moved on with life, my subconscious continued to play sorry for me, and begged me to go on this movie-romance search for this man.

So one day, although it took a bit of brain strength to remember, I searched up his account on YouTube. He had three million subscribers, which I suspected were mainly girls, but was still shocked at how crazy internet famous he was.

I went through most of his videos throughout that day, and it felt like in every video, I would get to know him even more, and my usually drained smile became brighter than before.

Eventually, I followed his Tumblr and Twitter, and anxiously waited for his next liveshow on YouNow. That very Tuesday, he had put out a tweet stating that he was going to be live, and my old teenage ‘fangirl’ squeals escaped.

I began wondering once again if I could get his attention, or make him remember me throughout this liveshow. While most of me pushed aside the thought, there was that little spark of unrealistic hope that spiked within me.

Once he came on and everyone began blowing up the chat, my fingers lightly tapped the keyboard of my laptop, questioning myself on what I should say; what would be memorable, although I’m not good at those things.

There were multiple times throughout that hour that I would draw back from my childish idea, but my fingers would end up stuck on the keyboard.

“Okay guys, we’re just about coming to the end of the hour, any last thoughts or things I haven’t mentioned?” Dan announced.

I quietly panicked, then randomly typed something into the chat without a thought from anticipation.

“Hey Mr.Dan Isn’t on Whatever,” he read. My eyes glistened at his notice.

“(Y/N)?” he smirked.


Poison and Intrigue


Three months had passed since the coronation of King Riku of the Ryoichi line and his Queen Souji. With the celebrations now over, life in the Destiny Isles Palace had begun to settle into patterns. Still like the changing of the ocean tides there were quite rumblings beginning to churn to the surface.

The king knew games were afoot as did his ever watchful queen. And both the sorcerer regent and the consort spy new how to play.

While the king held council it was customary for the queen to entertain the noble ladies of the court.

And on one such afternoon there was a loud clattering outside the parlor door before the king himself made entrance.

“Afternoon ladies,” he said with a charming smile. But benieth his crafted exterior a sweat was forming on his brow as he grasped the shoulder of his beloved.

“I am afraid I need to borrow her majesty for some time. The council meeting is over so I’m sure your husbands are waiting.”

Using the distraction as the ladies began to gossip he whispered: “Follow me into my study. Quickly”