#fingers long ass boney fingers. big hand large hand

[puzzlekinq]

i love. Hand

[rakurairagnarok]

The moment the necklace fell around his neck, Jacob knew something was off. His head started to spin, but instead of panicking, he felt a grin spread across his face. His toughts slowed down as he slowly started to unbutton his nerdy shirt. His pale, featureless torso swirled with color; a tan started to spread across his skin, while lines of ink started to create numerous amounts of tattoos all across his body.

His braces fell out of his mouth, on the way down turning into sets of jewelry, an earring, nipple piercings, and some rings.

At the same time, his tongue started to feel uncomfortable trapped behind his now pearly whites. It started to creep out of his mouth for increasingly longer periods of time, until he was almost always sticking it out of his mouth.

While his face slowly restructured itself and cleaned up the acne and pimples, his body began to swell. His pecs started to balloon, which in turn he began to absentmindedly bounce. His flubby stomach sucked in, leaving behind a perfect row of abs and deep cumgutters. His shoulders broadened while his back straightened out. His legs were growing slightly at the same time, so he immediately appeared much taller. His arms flexed, the muscle almost pouring in as they inflated. His hands cracked as his boney fingers and unkempt nails filled out and cleaned up respectively.

Next up were his now longer legs, which tensed as the quads exploded. His tighty whities strained against his new muscular thighs, but things were just getting started.

A low moan escaped the once squeaky voice boy. His tight briefs slowly began to tear as both his subpar dick and flat ass started to grow. His glutes filled out and kept a respectable and very noticable bounce, while his little nub grew into a large, but soft 8 inch rod with massive balls to match. He wasn't soft for long as his bulge began to slowly stick outwards. Being a shower not much changed but his poor underwear didn't survive the onslaught of new meat filling it, and it ripped apart and fell around his feet.

The feet in question began to clench. His formal step-ins begain to strain against the slowly growing feet. His measly size 7 grew. Size 8, his feet were pressing uncomfortably hard against the hard leather.

Size 9, loud stretching noises erupted from his shoes.

Size 10, the first tear appeared.

Size 11, his toes burst through the hard leather.

Size 12, the top of the shoes flew off

Size 13, the only remnants of the shoes were the pieces of hard leather scattered around the floor.

As soon as his feet were free from their hard leather confines, a subtle tinge swept around the room. The subtlety quickly passed as it became strong enough to invade anyones nostrils at close proximity. The same stench quickly started to pour out from underneath his arms and his groin, which only increased the intensity of the smell.

Jack, as he was now called, looked down at a black cap that was on the bench next to him in the fitting room and put it on his head. Immediately, his head became even foggier. Drool slowly dripped from the side of his mouth, while his eyes rolled back. Every ounce of knowledge he had attained through the years started to drip out of his mouth. Simultaneously, his preppy quiff started to recede into his head, leaving only a short jocky cut.

As a finish, a small bit of scruff appeared around the jocks face, a bit along his chin and some above his lip. Jack licked his lips and grinned at the mirror.

"Fuckin tight broo..." he smirked and turned the cap around and grabbed his phone. He started filming himself, sticking out his tongue to the camera. He couldn't help but laugh at how amazing he looked. He sent the snap to an account named "Big Bae❤️" and felt his cock twitch. He ran a hand across his bubblebutt and softly moaned. He couldn't wait to get home to his boyfriend and let him pound his brains out. Well, what was left of them.

[crybaby-bkg]

Week One, Day Two of Kinktober 2022

Size Kink: Jujustu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru 

Word Count: 850

Tags: size kink, mirror sex, fingering (reader receiving)

It was no secret that Gojo was bigger than he really should be. He’s already the strongest sorcerer, the chosen one, and he was also too goddamn pretty for his own good. So his size made his already insufferable and intolerable ass even worse. 

And fuck, if it didn’t get to you every time you encountered the bigger man. 

But the worse part about it was that he somehow knew. He could tell the moment you started looking at him differently, when you started ogling him, when your eyes strayed from his mouth to his broad shoulders and slender neck and long fingers. He was just…so much bigger than you, and it made you wonder, your mind constantly racing whenever you were in his presence. 

He’s not too bulky, so would he still be able to pick you up? He’s got huge hands, but can he grab the entirety of your waist while he plows into you? He stands at a staggering height, could he really trap you underneath him if he tried?

The answer is yes to all of your questions when Gojo lets your curious little mind answer every question—but through the use of his body. 

“I’m not a piece of meat,” he pouts to you one night when he has too long fingers pumping in and out of your slick cunt. You watch him through the mirror set up on the side of his bed, how he curls around you, how small you look in comparison to him. You tremble, thighs shaking uncontrollably when that only makes the white haired sorcerer angle his fingers until they slip and press against that spot that makes you see stars. 

“What goes in that pretty little head of yours whenever you see me?” Gojo asks, encouraging you to answer him with a nudge of his sharp chin against your temple. You don’t remember when your head had lolled to the side, nor when you started drooling from the pleasure all over his pristine navy blue uniformed top. The sight of you being completely bare in his lap while he sits behind you fully clothed makes you shiver again, hiccuping when he uses his other hand to start petting at your clit. 

“Cmon, love,” he nudges again, sniffing you, inhaling your natural scent. “Tell me what you think about when you eye me up all the time? I’m dying to know here.” His voice is downright teasing, even a little mean enough to make you blink foggy eyes open as you pout up at his blind fold covered eyes. 

He waits patiently though, slows down a little to make your empty little head clearer, pats softly at your clit, moves up to pull you open so that you both can admire just how pretty his fingers sink into you. They’re so pale, a contrast against your skin, so long and boney, with a warmed palm that cups you when you still don’t answer him. 

“You’re s’big,” you slur out, eyes crossing for a moment when he hooks his fingers inside of you, curls them so gently it makes you gasp. You curl in on yourself, and Gojo only follows, hooking his chin over your shoulder again, leaning over to peck softly at the corner of your mouth. 

“S’big, I want—oh fuck—I wan’ you to just…cover me. Crush m-me. So big, ‘nd I feel so small compared to you.” Its a struggle to get your words out when Gojo presses an entirely too large hand against your abdomen, practically covering the entire width of your stomach, as he presses down and starts fucking his three long fingers inside of you again. 

“And that turns you on, huh?” He downright teases, a malicious grin spreading across his handsome face as he nibbles at the roundness of your cheek. “Me being so much bigger than you? You know I could crush you if I wanted to, right? Could hold you down and make you take my big, fat cock all night long. You couldn’t do a thing if you wanted to.”

You cry out, back arching against his broad chest as you start riding out your sudden orgasm, tears springing to your eyes quickly. It’s too overwhelming, too much and too fast, as Gojo one coos at you gently as he brings you down from your climax with gentle strokes of his fingers and the sweetness dripping from his voice. 

You’re finally brought back to reality when he takes your shaking hand and brings it back to rest on the bulge tenting his shorts. Your eyes widen for a second, looking at him in the mirror as he feels your cunt spasm around him once more at the feel of him, biting at your lip as you can imagine just how much bigger his cock would be than his already big fingers. Gojo only laughs at you though, and presses a sweet kiss to your nape, blind fold slipping down slightly so you can only get the barest glimpse of a bright cerulean eye. 

“Oh? Should’ve known you would be a size queen.” 

[palaceofpassion]

When the Cows Come Home.

Patreon Reward!  I suppose I should start adding more non ask stuff cause ya know, everything died! 

BRRRR-`

SLAM

Jaune’s hand hit the alarm clock before it even had the chance to really get going, his eyes snapping open and his body jumping straight off the bed.  “Good morning!”  He rose with a mighty shout, causing the empty home around him to tremble with his mighty yell.  A smile slapped across his face as he scurried forward, his body and mind ready for the day to come.  A quick dash to the shower, half an hour later, and he was ready to go and hit the day with all his might.  

“Ah!  Nothing quite like a hot shower in the morning to get ready.”  And, as he headed downstairs, his mind ignoring the empty echo of his footsteps.  “Time to get started.”  Dressed head to toe in denim, boots tightly bound to his feet, and a large hat to block out the sun's rays he knew that today was going to be a good day.  

And like every day, this was how Jaune Arc started his mornings, before the sun began to rise he was out and about.  Now one may wonder, what was the young Arc doing up so early in the day?  Well the answer was simple, he had a responsibility, and he would be darned if he didn’t follow through with it.  Even if he was the last remaining Arc holding down the fort he would continue what his ancestors started.  

With one quick turn back to his home he allowed himself a small frown, he’d be lying to say he didn’t MISS his family… oh wait no!  It wasn't like they were dead or anything.  They’d all just wanted something else in their lives, and well his parents wanted to retire and his sisters just moved on.  But, as he made his way towards the barn… he realized he’d never be able to leave this place.  After all, if he did leave, who would take care of the girls?  THUD  The doors swung open as he took a step into the lovely stable.  “G’morning girls.”   And he smiled, brightly as he was met with the pleasant and waiting smiles of three gorgeous heifers.  

“Morning Jaune!”  

May was just… he shuddered as he eyed the gorgeously tanned heifer, her massive watermelon sized breasts swayed back and forth as she excitedly beckoned him.  She’d been so shy when he’d gotten her, and well look at her now!  He couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Good Morning.”

Ciel was something else indeed, massive swells jiggled freely as she tried to hide her enthusiasm for the coming activities.  Even if her breasts were smaller than May, she made up with the most… delectable ass in existence.  

TAP TAP TAP

“Neo!  Watch your language!”  

The last of his girls, a short heifer, bound with a large chest, wide hips, and large ass.  Neo had lost the ability to speak long before he’d picked her up and saved her from a life as breeding stock.  While she’d softened, she HAD QUITE the mouth on her.  

“Alright then…”  He shook his head as the shorter girl waved him off, her eyes flashing dangerously as she gave a quick snap at her cow printed bikini.  A smile showed that she was ready and waiting for them to get started, though from the very scent wafting off of the three, he could tell they were all ready.  And… as he remembered what his sisters had told him long ago, a well bred cow is a well milked cow.  

So-  “Alright, Neo, you’re up first.”  

TAP TAP!

He chuckled to himself as he unhooked her fenced zone letting the tiny troublemaker out.  She quickly made her way over to the large pumping machine, something that had cost him a PRETTY penny.  But it had made his life so much easier, after all just like his sisters had said again!  Or at least what Saph had said, “Remember, breeding your heifers while they’re being milked is the best way to get the highest quality milk.”  

If he was being honest, he didn’t believe her but… as Neo got herself ready, propping herself onto the specially cow shaped bed, letting her feet rest at the tail ends and splitting her legs apart.  He just couldn’t resist, now could he?  Especially not as his eyes followed the shimmering trail running down her inner thighs, leading to her moist core, the g string of her bikini wedged solidly between her plump vulvas.

“Well then…”  

He hastily prepared the pumping machine, and watched as the suction began to work its magic.  Her thick round nipples began to tense inside and her face contorted into slight pleasure.  “Time to get started.”  Thump.  His pants hit the ground as he positioned himself between her thighs, and as his hands touched down upon her legs he could feel her practically vibrate in anticipation.  

He of course was a gentleman, and knew not to keep a lady waiting.  So without further adieu he pressed the meaty head of his cock against her already slippery slit and slid it straight through.  Her body tensed for a moment as he pushed against her cervix, a bulge forming against her belly as he found himself grinding into her uterus pushing her organs up just a tad bit. 

Her smaller body had always made it easy for him to see his handy work, and as he began to shift his hips, pulling back as the bulge inside of her started to slip away, he found himself simply enticed to do it again.  

Hands firmly grasped onto her once more, his fingers digging into her boney hips as he suddenly slammed back.  Her back arched and her toes curled as he let himself thud inside  of her once more.  

He could see her hands grasp at her hair as she tried to scream out in pleasure.  A smirk crossed his face as he pulled back once more and then let loose another powerful smack.  Fleshy bits meet, and their bodies collide.  SMACK SMACK SMACK 

His body began to move on its own as her lithe form tightened around him.  Her moist cavity grasped upon his cock, each ridgey lump squeezed upon his veiny weighty cock.  And everytime he tried to pull out she would only tighten more, her pussy tugging along with his member as she did so.  

Their bodies continued to meet in pleasure until the pumping finally came to an end.  And, as a reward for her good deeds he let loose a torrent of white inside of her.  Her back arching once more and her nails grasping onto the side of the bed.  Her eyes rolled back as she lost herself to a powerful orgasm, allowing her body to fall into a nice little rest as he did so.  

For what it was worth, “You lasted longer than usual.”  Jaune took note of the time, a clock installed onto the wall above, an hour had passed.  “Okay, good thing I got stamina.”  

Pulling his cock out of her with a POP, what followed was a flooding rush of thick white goo spreading onto the soil beneath them.

Not even wasting time, Ciel came up.  Despite being the most ‘mature’ of the trio, she was always excited, internally, for a good ol fashion milking fuck.  

“Excuse me, I do believe it is my turn.”  

Jaune smiled, she pretended to be calm on the outside, but he could see the way her hips swayed, her big juicy ass wobbling back and forth as she did so.  “Of course.”  

He quickly pulled Neo off the machine, resting her to the side on a nice stack of hay.  

“Well then… get on.”  

Ciel shook her head, “I would rather…”  She turned back to the machine and made her way over.  Finding a medium height branch off the bedding she bent over.  “This will suffice.”  

Once more Jaune simply rolled his eyes, but as her big bare ass swayed back and forth, the sun's light glistening off the juicy posterior, he couldn’t resist.  Wrapping around he set her up, this time a soft moan escaped her lips.  “OooOh~”  

Jaune smiled, the normally stern girl becoming soft as dough under his touch.  “Good girl.”  His hand was already in motion before his mind even formulated his next plan.  SMACK The base of his palm met her massive mounds of soft flesh.  Ciel shivered, her body bucking at the point of impact, her plump posterior rippling outwards.  

“Ahng~”  Her voice echoed as she felt the pressure of his cock squeeze against her soft sex.  A terrible tremble tremored through her form as he pushed inside of her.  Her teeth bit down upon her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut.  His thick cock punching in and out of her tightly wound body always did THINGS to her.  

The orderly woman began to melt, her form finally relaxing as she fell to the rhythmic thrusts of her beloved master.  SMACK SMACk SMACK.

Their bodies pressed together, his hands tightly squeezing upon her soft and supple flesh.  His hips smacked and rolled against her bottom, cock twitching and plucking at her precious core.  

Ciel, for all her bluster, gave in rather quickly.  Her body seizing as small shakes began to spread from her womb.  Her body shivered and jolted, her muscles tightened and her mind ran blank as he began to fill her with his own precious milk.  Her womb began to fill, thick globs of seed poured inside of her ballooning her belly with miraculous speed.  

And just like with Neo, Jaune pulled out, allowing the girl to fall silently into the bedding.  

“Phew~  That’s a good girl.”  His fingers ran through her rump, squeezing and sinking into the soft fleshy folds.  “Now then.”  

Before he even had the chance to fully turn around he was suddenly tackled to the ground.  Straddle upon him now sat the sex crazed May.  Her gaze consumed with lust, her pupils having completely shifted into shaking hearts.  “Well now.”

He wasn’t surprised of course, well not anymore at least.  “Me! Me! Me!”  

May couldn’t help herself, the Barn was practically radiating with thick sexual pheromones and she had waited SO VERY LONG!

“Milk me!  FUCK ME!”  

Jaune smiled, though that smile turned into a contorted screw of pleasure as she propped herself up and down on his cock, taking full control of the situation.  The massively busty cowgirl couldn’t wait any longer, her body already on automatic as she began to bounce herself up and down his massive shaft.  

And in it went, slicked with thick layers of cum and love juices he was able to slide right inside of her without a problem.  His member pushed all the way down her depths punching right against her cervix and pushing her inner wall up and against the other side of her uterus.  

So she screamed with all her might, “YES YES YES!”  She wanted more, her body already acting on its own as she bounced herself up and down, the sound of her wide ass smacking against his hips, the pendulum swing of his big full balls bouncing up to smack her bottom echoing from around them.

She didn’t even care about being milked at this point, her massive tits swayed and flopped up and down as she unrelentingly pushed herself further down upon him.  She loved the way he made her feel, his cock stretching her insides, rupturing against her inner membranes and slamming against her needy cavern.  

The more she pushed off of him, the harder her breasts flung.  Thick droplets of pure white began to seep from her nipples, with every thud against her chest she began to leak more and more of her precious white nectar.  

Jaune wasn’t about to let it go to waste however, thinking quickly he reached out, spearing his hands upwards and folding them into her soft and squishy sacks of fat.  His digits dug into her flesh, squeezing and massaging at the fatty milk jugs.  Pulling his strength he lunged forward, knocking May onto her back as he started to thrust.  “YEEESSSSH!”  She squealed in joy as he bit down upon her plump nubs, his lips tugging and suckling upon the delicious teets.  

He was going to lose a bit of profit today, but getting the chance to drink right from the source was ALWAYS a pleasure.  

His body reacting to the new found flavors began to plunge further into his orgasm.  Heifer milk had a ‘special’ effect to it, it heightened sexual appetite, increased sex drive, and of course.  “YES CUM INSIDE ME!”  

It helped stimulate sexual orgasms!  

And so he did, his cock twitching, pulsing, and finally convulsing inside of her released an unrelenting torrent of semen.  His thick cum began to flush forward, as her hungry ovaries did their best to consume the newly invading substance in hopes of making room for more.

And as he pinned her to the ground, her body unable to push back even if she wanted to, he found himself surrounded by his other precious girls.  A smile crossed his face as he released May’s soaping tit, a rancher’s job was never done.

[mvttsvn]

What they look like (mha)

Bakugou, Sero, Kirk, Denki, Todoroki (based when they’re like 18-19 or somethin)

I have a few personal headcannons that I wanted to write down. Also sfw for once!

warnings: cussing, probably inaccurate, typos.

Bakugou

I feel like he’s more lanky than what usually perceived. he still has really built shoulders and is has a lot of muscles but he’s just a lot longer lmao

He has really long arms and he looks taller than what he actually is

But he skips leg day everyone so often so that’s way he wears baggy pants :p

He has a lot of acne on his forehead due to his hair and mask

Isn’t really hairy? Like the hair on his arms and legs is really light and you can’t really see it.

I doubt he grows hair on his chest too, if he does he shaves it

Can’t grow a beard either, it comes out in patchy.

Hair on his armpits tho-

That shit nasty he just lets it stew in sweat

I feel like his nose is really straight and long It’s makes his face like disproportionate sometimes.

Big large calloused hands

Refuses to put lotion on

I just knowwwww his lips are chapped

And when he grins and shit the skin breaks and usually has a few cuts and scabs on them.

Don’t let him sit on u his ass is so boney (same tho)

Sero

He is perfection

he’s tall and kinda skinny but he is proportionally perfect.

Has really nice forearms and hands

And his thighs maaaan his legs are so nice.

Idek how to explain it they just, perfect

I don’t think he has superr defined abs like bakugou but is very toned

I feel like he’d be super flexible too

Like he can lift his foot next to his head type

Anywhooo his v line?? Sheeesh

Rounded hips and a 10/10 ass

Can grow a beard!

...would grow a goatee -_-

Also his ears stick out a and he gets a lil insecure about it

That’s why he has long hair lol

Literal picture perfect smile

Has a deep smile lines

Gets freckles during the summer and can tan very easily

I think he’d have real gangly leg hair

Hair on his toes n shit too

Shave Sero pls

He said no

Kirishima

Ok kiri is so biG

Not in a bad way!!

Once he’d get older he’d grown into his shoulders and thighs and he’s just be so built man

An absolute unit

Can and will crack watermelons with his thighs

The LARGEST hands n they are so veiny too

He’s just so pretty and bulky idk

I don’t think he’d be able to grow a beard either

He’d be sad about it too he’s “not manly enough for it” ;(

I hope he’d keep it hair dark when he’d get out of high school, yet still stiles it all spiky n shit I think that’s be cute

Wears size 13(us) shoes...

If he stopped working out he’d get a little chubby

Nothing wrong with that tho

Looks big mean and scary is actually very soft and sweet

Lowkey think he’d have a big forehead, and would be insecure about it when brought up (it’s ok tho me too<3)

The fattest ass

Twerk for tik tok kiri you’ll be famous

Denki

Another lanky boy

Not as many muscles but still very toned

But I feel like he also doesn’t work out as much because he’s lazy

His legs are loOng

I don’t think his jawline would be as defined more rounded

High cheekbones and a skinny neck

Pointy shoulders?

Long ass fingers

Has a nice v line too

I feel like he would have some type of problem with his nose, like there genuinely nothing wrong with it but he constantly says he wants to get a nose job

Also piercings ;)

Probably one on his nose and few that are the top of his ears and like maybe one on his eyebrow or lip

He looks so good in crop tops

He’s just a very pretty boy

I can see him getting a lighting bolt tramp stamp

Gotta stay on brand I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

Todoroki

The actual personification of 🧍‍♂️

Even when he gets older

I don’t see him being tooo built but still muscular

Another very proportional man

I think he’d be on shorter than the others probably like 5’8 (that’s not short tho)

He’d have a longer torso and he legs wouldn’t be as long

Defined collar bones and really nice shoulders

His back would be a sight too

He’d have nice hands ones that would look really good with rings

His arm and legs hair wouldn’t be too prominent

He’s very good with skin care

He takes care of his scar so he kinda has to be

I doubt he cares about what people think of his physical appearance

Like being a hero and famous he pulls a LOT of people yet he just doesn’t know why

I just feel like he oblivious to it

I also don’t think he appreciates when people compare his looks to endeavor

“Omg you’ve grown up to look just like him!”

It’s just brings back bad memories so he just gives them a nod and changes the subject

anywho I feel like he mostly stays the same as he gets older which is ok because he’s so pretty ;)

authors note: IM SO SORRY I HAVENT POSTED, I have so many drafts that I’ve trying to finish, but I swear I’ll have a good toxic eren fic out by next week! ;)

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

On Illness and Recovery, or: Sickfic, Baby!

You know the drill! Please let me know if you liked it, and check my Twisted Wonderland fanfiction tag if you want other shit I’ve done.

Contains coarse language and emotional whiplash.

~*~*~*~

Some things stay true no matter where you are; the truest, right now? Schools are disgusting fucking petri dishes, as your miserable cold will tell you. Your cough had only been getting worse as the days went on, with it came exhaustion and a chill that wouldn't leave your bones. You should probably be holed up in your dorm instead of going to class, but that had it's own issues that you were struggling to solve.

"Are you done yet? I want to eat." Grimm's nose, and little else, poked out from a pile of blankets on your bed.

"Nowhere close. Shh." You taped the last bit of plastic over the balcony entryway, and swapped the roll of tape for a heavy duty stapler. "Hold that right there."

The skull-faced ghost held a packing blanket over the plastic as you stapled it in place. By the time you were done, you couldn't see much, which at least meant you could no longer see your own breath. Maybe now, you would be able to feel your own fingers.

Ah, they joys of your own rotten, ancient place - you wake up with frost on your bedsheets and your washbasin shattered from the ice within it. There were other rooms in the place, but most had holes in the ceiling or were too big to heat effectively. So now, you were going to live in one room, that you'd yet to figure out how to run electricity to, and only leave for class or the bathroom. Even if you were ill, could anyone blame you for still going to class when your own home had a nasty quirk of being even colder than outside?

Anywho, it was time to do some homework. By the light of an oil lamp. In five layers of clothing. Curled up so close to a tiny fire you might as well be inside of it. While your not-a-cat complained the whole time.

Yaaaaaaay.

~*~*~*~

"You really should be resting."

You scoffed. "You just feel bad because you're the one who got me sick."

"You can't prove that, everyone's had a cold the past few weeks."

"No one else has been exploring my tonsils, dude."

Idia clapped a hand on your mouth, which you did not lick solely because you were wearing a cloth mask. "Quiet! That's secret intel."

"What? No it's not, everyone knows."

"I don't want to advertise. Then I'm a raid boss and you're the rare loot drop."

You elbowed him in his boney ribs. "No one's going to kick your ass out of jealousy. Just because I'm the hottest bitch in this place doesn't mean I've got universal appeal."

"You're still the only girl and people are weird about it." He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and winced. "You're too warm."

"How can you tell? You've got gloves on."

"That's how bad it is. I'll make some tea."

"I'm not drinking anything out of the damned lab equipment."

He frowned. "I've never had anything bad happen, it's cleaned correctly."

"You're smarter than that. One of these days you're going to grow a tail due to residue in the glassware, and I'm going to haul you around in front of god and everyone by it, going 'I told you so' the entire time."

He blanched, knowing that that was not an idle threat, and someone laughed. "I think I should make that happen, just so we can see that."

"Jade, no. No magic mushrooms for my man, or any other concoctionary bullshit either."

Idia looked ready to die, so to take attention off of him you leaned over and poked Silver awake before he fell face first in the potion he was working on. Logically, you know his narcolepsy was debilitating. Right now, you wish you could have borrowed it last night. You don't remember walking up during the night, but you must have, because why else would you be so tired?

He started up, mumbled "thank you" and went back to stirring as if he hadn't been about to drown in dubious magichemicals. God, you wished that was you right now.

"Idia, deal. You help me get through this class, I'll grab some hot food and go home."

He made a show of hemming and hawing before saying, "Grimm needs to let me hold him when I drop you off, and I will."

Ordinarily, you would have just said "Ask him yourself and don't be weird about it," and Grimm would have simply told him no until sufficiently bribed. But Grimm was still in bed at home, saying you kept him up all night, so instead you bumped Idia with your hip and said "What, you can't think to ask for better pussy to fondle?"

Of course, you just had to say something crass at the moment where everyone went quiet. Even Crewel raised his head and both eyebrows at you. The only reason you didn't get a riding crop to the face and a week in horny detention (where, you assumed, they punished you for being a bad girl indeed) was Idia, rapidly going through every stage of confusion and grief, with a few currently unknown to man. You'd intended to tease him, but that sheer amount of confused, horny misery on his face was just too much, and you laughed so hard you bent over.

And coughed. In a short time, there was no laughter left, only miserable coughing from the depths of your chest that left you on the floor with your eyes watering. Someone thumped your back a few times, and when you yanked your mask off to catch a proper, if shallow breath, your mask was full of a red-streaked, pus coloured slime.

A fur coat was draped over your shoulders as everyone made various noises of disgust. "Class dismissed. Let's get you to the nurses."

~*~*~*~

"How in hell are you still mobile."

"Pettiness and a desire to not freeze to death."

Crewel narrowed his eyes at you. "Both lungs."

"That is what double pneumonia means, Professor."

You could see his whip fingers itching. "Yes, well. You can't come to class like that. And... Is it really that bad in Ramshackle?"

Idia raised a hand. "It was really cold the last time I was there."

"Ugh. I told Crowley we should have razed the place for an expansion on my dog run." He looked at you with a curious mix of genuine fondness and even more genuine disgust. "I'm not putting you up until your place gets fixed, you'll leak all over my furniture. Anyone here going to babysit?"

"I've done perfectly fine in my own dorm, I don't need to become the pet of another dorm."

"Those little fairies said that if you don't stay on bedrest and stay warm, you will die. I am not filling out that paperwork." He looked to you classmates. "Speak up or I'm docking a letter grade."

Silver raised a hand. "I think we could do it but I don't think D- Lilia would let me. Malleus would end up trying to play nurse and skip class."

"Oh god, no, we don't tell him I'm sick until I'm safely ensconced somewhere, he would lose his damn mind and I'd try to strangle him after a week of it."

"There are no spare rooms in Octanivelle. However, I could try some experimental medicines I've been-"

"Jade, no."

Idia was quiet, before speaking up. "I... I don't know if Ignihyde has a spare room, or would be good for healing."

He'd not left your side since your collapse, and gone so full of writhing, barely concealed anxiety he'd broke through the other side and simply shut off. You didn't get it, it wasn't actually anything serious. The nurses had pumped you full of medicine, you'd be up and about a week or two at the most, instead of the month's worth of hospital rooms and bad food it would have been.

Crewel sighed. "Time to start checking the files to see where you can be squeezed."

There was a cough, from the fifth student so quiet despite his size. Everyone had honestly forgotten he was there.

When he spoke up, it was to you, and not anyone else. "There's an unoccupied room down the hall from me. I think the weather in the Savannahclaw dorms will be good for your health. You shouldn't have to stay where you won't be wanted, or get sicker. Would that work?"

You looked at him, assessing. You and him hadn't talked overmuch, and he didn't seem to mind. But as severe as he looked? You could see the sincerity in his offer.

"That should work. Jack, right?"

His ears flicked, and his tail twitched. "Yes."

"Thank you, Jack. You're very kind."

~*~*~*~

Easy to see why the room was empty. You suspected it might have been a storage room, or that there had been a monastic order in the dorm at one point. A single bed just fit the far wall, with a chair, a desk, a bureau, and little else. But the far wall had a large window, and the room felt... nice. And a hell of a lot warmer than than your room in Ramshackle.

"It'll make an excellent sickroom." You set your schoolbag and an entire case of tissues on the desk. "Thank you again, Jack. You sure it won't be any trouble?"

"I've already cleared it with our dorm leader, he said he doesn't care as long as you don't rub phlegm on his things." Jack was a solid block of frown and muscle in the corner. "The window does open, you should keep it that way for circulation. There's a bathroom down the hall, there's showers in there. If you need anything or anyone tries to bother you, please let me know."

"Will do." You were already unpacking the few things in your bag, trying to get them arranged before another coughing fit took you.

"I can help get your things, if you need?" For a dude who was very do-that-shit-yourself, he was being very helpful.

"Idia's grabbing Grimm and anything else I'll need. He'll know what I want."

"I see." Silence, and more interesting ear flicks. "So."

"So?"

"You and him are..." He made a guesture with interlaced fingers.

"Yeah. Jealous?"

He snorted. "No. Just curious. He's a bit..." Hand wiggle.

"I'm a bit too. It works. Would have been nice if he'd gotten the hint before I had a ghost turn me inside out in front of him and everyone else."

"You know that's why you're so sick, right?"

You made a noise that was hard to decipher, that he used as cue to continue. "You never smelled quite right after that happened. Even after the healing. You're always a little..." He moved his hands, trying to grasp the right simile. "Like when a flower's starting to drop petals. Overripe."

How in the hell were you supposed to take that. What do you even say to that? Does everyone know you smell? Does - 

"Oh god, you all know when I'm on the rag."

A single, curt nod, and you put your head in your hands and groaned.

~*~*~*~

A knock on the door

"Who is it?"

"Your worst enemy."

"Get your ass in here, Vil."

Vil had on... good lord. Mask, gloves, face shield. An absurdly fashionable CDC agent. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Vil. Means so much coming from you."

He stayed by the door, ready to flee if a spare germ came floating towards him. "Heard you're out of commission. Thank the seven, I'll get some peace in my life."

You flipped him the bird, but smiled as you did. "Don't say that. I'll made a sheet ladder and mix sputum in your cold cream."

"If you do that I will personally burn your clothes and replace them with something decent that you will hate."

"Try. Come to gloat?"

"Just a bit." He set a large cup with a straw at the very edge of the desk, straining at arm's length as he did. "This should unfuck your throat somewhat."

"Such language!" You waited until he retreated to the door before you took the smoothie. It was... very, very purple, and smelled minty. "Trying to poison me, finally?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I decide to poison you, it's not going to be through something that obvious. You will never see it coming, and then I'll sell your corpse to Floyd and everyone will just think he finally decided to go full crazy and Riddle is next."

You snorted. "Honestly? I think he'd shit his pants if I actually returned the affection. One time I saw Riddle give him a genuine smile and he had to go sit down because he started shaking so bad." That might have been because the smile was caused by Floyd cracking his head on a doorway and falling flat on his ass, but the point still stood.

When he stopped laughing, he turned to leave. "Take at least an extra week to get better, for my sanity. And don't give the creature any, it won't agree with him."

"Shh, I just got him down for his nap-"

Grimm made a horrible snort from your feet and say up. "Food?"

You made a look-what-you-did guesture at Vil, but he left instead of helping you deal with your beloved yowling idiot.

~*~*~*~

You woke up coughing in the dark. It took entirely too long for you to figure out where the hell you were, and why, and you took the offered tissue with great-

"JaySUS FUCKING CHRIST" You jumped back so much it was only Malleus's grip on your arm that kept you from going through the open window.

"People are sleeping, please do not yell."

"Don't yell my ass, how long have you been there?"

He shrugged. "Since before sunset. Ortho was here first."

You leaned around Mal, to see Ortho sitting on the desk, scritching the belly of a drowsing Grimm. "Hello, Yuu. Your fever has gone down half of a degree since I took over."

The audacity of these idiots, you swear. "Both of you go home and go to bed."

"No. You need watching." Mal had not blinked once since you'd woken up, and how about that? His eyes glowed in the dark, or he had very strong eyeshine; either way, there was no iris around the blown out pupil. "You are very ill and need taken care of. I can do that, I took care of Silver when he was ill."

"Mal."

"Yes?"

"Do we need another boundaries talk?"

He frowned. "But you are ill."

"Mal, I will call Lilia and tell him what you are doing right now. I will personally write your grandmother and tell her you're neglecting your studies. I will get Leona down here and he will call you a simp until you go outside and fight him on compulsion."

"Those all sound terrible!"

"Ortho, don't kiss up because you're next. Why are you here and not home charging?"

"Idia wouldn't go home to sleep until I said I would let him know if you got worse."

You opened your mouth, and shut it again. Why's he so worried? You had to physically shove him out the door to go to his next class, looking like his heart would break, and he'd still skipped board games to fidget miserably in the chair Mal now sat in, looking ready to burst into tears every time you coughed.

Ortho seemed to read your mind. "He gets worried when people get sick. I got sick once."

Ah. That explained a hell of a lot that you were too polite to ask.

"... Okay, you can stay."

Mal perked up.

"You go home. I'll never go back to sleep if you keep staring all night, and you do need to sleep some."

Mal's face fell.

"You can come back tomorrow, after class."

He perked back up. "Goodnight, Yuu. I will see you tomorrow!" A brief kiss against your sweating temple, and he was out the same window he most likely came in.

"Hey, Ortho?"

"Yes?"

"If you can dim your lights a little, you can come lie down with me."

~*~*~*~

You were rudely poked awake by a giant asshole.

"Why are you in my nap room." Leona hovered over you with obvious displeasure.

You blinked and sorted yourself. Ortho was crammed between you and the window, hopefully dreaming of electric sheep, and Grimm was still dead asleep, the little bastard. "Jack put me up here because my dorm's a block of ice and I can't stay there on doctor's orders." Crewel might have a doctorate, it's not a lie.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"I did." Jack was behind him, his own link in a chain of hovering displeasure. "You said it was fine as long as she didn't make a mess. I brought yogurt."

"Thank you-" More miserable coughing, with now everyone either rubbing your back or passing you tissues. Except Leona, who simply held back and watched. By the time you were done, he just nodded.

"I'm not moving you, but..."

"What."

"I'm calling in a favour next time Cheka gets pawned off on me. He likes you."

You'd argue that, but you liked the kid. "Aight. Everyone get out, there's too many fucking people in here and I'm discovering new and interesting depths of claustrophobia."

Leona didn't need to be told twice.

"I'll be back after class with your homework. Maybe at lunch with something. Not before then. Stay put."

"Oooo, oo. I'm going with you, big guy." Grimm scampered over. "I'll get bored here all day. You can just nap."

You rolled your eyes "I can just nap. Jack, if he sticks with you, he's going to want to eat everything you do."

"I'll manage."

"Would you like me to stay?" Ortho was finally up, or maybe you hadn't noticed him exiting screensaver mode.

"I'd like you to tell your brother that I'm not going anywhere. Use those exact words."

He nodded, a faint whirr as he did.

"I'll see you guys later, okay? I need more sleep."

~*~*~*~

Someone gently shook you awake, and said someone was leaning in the window.

"Hey, Kalim." Why'd you have to be the center of attention when sick, and therefore couldn't kiss anyone to thank them for said attention.

"Hi! I asked Jamil to make extra lunch for you!" He set a covered dish on your knees.

"Thank you. Was he okay with that?"

"He was when I said it was for you. Everyone's heard that you're laid up!"

"News travels fast. Am I about to get even more popular?"

"You're always popular because you're great. Feel better! Jamil said he'll have extras tomorrow too. See you!" And off he went.

You needed to tell Jamil thank you, but he would probably just tell you to just stop talking about abolishing the monarchy instead. (Not because he didn't support the idea, but because he didn't want to be punished for not keeping the idea from Kalim.) What did he make, anyway?

"Oh, curry. Sweet."

~*~*~*~

The days progressed roughly the same. Drowsing most of the morning, lunch, more drowsing in between laptop stuff, maybe actual sleep. Coughing up far less gunk as the days went on. And entertaining an absurd fucking amount of people. Everyone seemed determined to check on you, even people who you'd never seen before in your life; Ruggie made something like 10k madol charging people to try and see you through the window before you cursed him out. Your Heartslabyul boys dropped in every couple of days to relate shit that they hadn't simply texted you (along with a pile of pastries from Trey and handwritten instructions on recovery from Riddle, the latter far less appreciated than the former). Floyd dropped in once to mostly complain about how you weren't around to eat the mushrooms he picked out of his food, tried to convince you to let him carry you over to the Monstro Lounge himself, and when you refused, kissed the tips of your fingers and left pouting. Jack, true to his word, dropped in at least twice a day to deliver food and homework, and once spent forty-five minutes glowering at anyone approaching the bathrooms while you took a shower that ached on your oversensitive skin.

Some people were far more regular. Every day like clockwork, Malleus perched in your window and was the world's friendliest, most affectionate vulture. Twenty minutes after that, Idia would come in, sit in the chair, and exude such concentrated grief that you were at a loss for what to do beyond asking if he wanted to talk about it, to which he would shake his head and simply resume sitting there, tapping away at his screens until the next panicked flurry of activity every time you made a unhealthy noise.

"You are allowed to go home. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm much better than I was."

He just shook his head.

"I will come get you if something happens," Mal offered.

More head shaking, and a "no" from his tablet, before adding, "Never again."

"I'll call Ortho and make him tag you out."

"I said no. And Ortho is with Lilia."

Lilia, small, beloved pest, has what you like to think of as a compulsive need to parent. He was god knows how old, had raised at least three of your classmates that you know of, and seemed to consider you his newest fledgling. After hearing about what happened, he'd taken it into his own hands to fix Ramshackle to... well, not OSHA compliance, but you wouldn't be cold.

"Does he know how much I appreciate it? Appreciate all of you, really?"

"Of course he does. He loves talking about you. He wears that shirt you made all the time."

"Which one? I've made him seven so far."

"When do I get one?"

"When they make T shirts that'll fit over your horns." Something drooped in the corner of your eye, and you looked over to see Idia shaking himself upright. "Hey, babe. When was the last time you slept?"

He took an embarrassingly long time to lie through his teeth and say "Last night" through his tablet.

"Yeah, no. Get over here." You took a moment to drag Mal's hand down before he could just do a sleeping spell, or something equally well meaning but deeply inappropriate.

"No."

"Please?"

You held your arms out until he couldn't resist, and soon you'd arranged his head on your chest.

"You hear anything more sloshing around in there?"

He shook his head.

"I am on the mend. I... don't really know what happened before. And I sure as hell don't know what you did to get him back. But I'm not going anywhere. So rest." 

He gave a faint nod.

"I will wake you, if need be?"

To both yours and Mal's surprise, Idia answered him with a pat on his leg.

"Thank you."

Idia was already asleep.

~*~*~*~

"Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what 'cyanosis' is?" You’d been stroking Idia's head for hours. Or minutes. Time flies, and you could not tell the difference.

"Not immediately, no."

"It's caused by a few different things. Hypoxia, hypothermia, that sort of thing. The blood in you doesn't have enough oxygen. So little that, instead of red, parts of your body turn blue or grey due to the lack of oxygen."

"I see." He looked intently, much as you did, at Idia's greyish nails and blue lips. "That doesn't seem survivable."

"Not if it's severe, no." The flames from Idia's head curled around your fingers, grasping at you even when he's not aware of it. "It's not something you see on someone as... lively as him. It's something I think about a lot. Whether it's to do with his magic, or that curse he won't elaborate on."

"I've heard rumours."

"Oh?"

"The Shroud family curse. Nothing concrete, for an origin. Madness, misfortune, and illness have plagued the family throughout history. Add in a trend of cousin marriage beyond the norm for upper-class families due to people not wanting to subject their loved ones to a cursed bloodline, and the tree is more of an notorious, ingrown shrub."

"That just sounds like shitty genetics and what happens to every family as the years go on, not a curse."

Mal shrugged. "is there a difference? Even in the sleeping curse my grandmother bestowed so easily, much of the power came for the fear of it. A girl grew up without her family because of the fear of it."

"True." You leaned down and kissed the top of Idia's head, feeling an unconscious smile as you did. "There must be a little hereditary something. He gets so anxious about this beautiful hair! He hates people looking at him, and he doesn't even realize it's because he's the most beautiful thing in any room he walks in."

"Thing?" Mal raised an amused eyebrow.

"Even the finest art in a museum doesn't have the benefit of being actually alive."

"Your capacity for love and beauty is enviable. Hunt would be jealous." He reached out and brushed a stray lock away from Idia's face, and you could feel another smile against your chest.

~*~*~*~

"Aight, so we've patched up holes in the walls, insulated the windows - Idia here," Lilia clapped Idia on the small of his back, causing him to make a distressed squeak - "smart boy, found some solar panels and we've got electricity up in your room, the kitchen and the bathroom by your room, not just the front room anymore! The rest we got the ghosts to help seal off to hold the heat in. I got you a space heater for your room, so you don't have to do a fire the whole time, and as long as you don't open the windows back up before spring, you won't freeze."

"Thanks, guys. One question."

"Yeah?"

"What did you do to my room."

Lilia smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a walking prank and can't keep out of there, what did you do."

"Nothing this time! I promise!" He held his hands up. "At least you can stay home for the next few days, Crewel says you gotta be back Monday or he's going to start making funeral prep."

"I'm literally better, but if he does that I get to help. Always wanted to plan my funeral, I have very specific ideas about what flowers to use and preferred corpse disposal."

"Maybe you should go upstairs and not talk about funerals and their associated things."

"Sure thing, dear."

After settling in your room, most everyone cleared out, even Idia. The only person still there was Jack, looking this way and that with a stern look.

"Hey, Jack?"

He grunted in assent.

"So like, why'd you put me up and help take care of me? We've hardly talked before then."

He sighed. "You've been very nice to me."

"You sure? I'd remember you."

"Uh."

"Jack?"

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day, if chilly in the wind. The sun was warm, the trees turning, and you just came across one of your best friends.

"Hi buddy! Are you lost today?"

The very large dog shook it's head and pressed into your knees.

"Okay, you wanna walk with me? Come on."

You'd found this enormous white Malamute wandering campus the first time a few months ago, and after checking in with a few other students who kept laughing when you asked if he was their dog, simply decided to enjoy your new friend and run and play. He was very smart, and initially standoffish, but could not resist a friendly face and good ear scritches. Today, you and Buddy here simply ran around like a couple of idiots after a lost soccer ball until it was time to go eat.

"I'll see you later, buddy. Bye!" You held out a hand, and after a firm shake, kissed the point where his snout met the rest of his face. "Stay safe, I love you."

Buddy made a low grumble and rubbed his paws over his face, and you went off to supper.

~*~*~*~

"You couldn't have told me?"

"How do you explain that? 'Hey, I run around as a wolf sometimes and you mistook me for a lost dog so you lovebombed me and I was at a loss and by the second time it was too awkward to say anything'?"

"I've been playing with you for months! I let you run with Crewel's dalmatians!"

"I run with them as a person, too, that's nothing special."

You pinched your nose. "Everyone must think I'm an idiot."

"I'll deal with them. I'm sorry, Yuu."

"I know. You are my good boy, after all."

His tail started wagging in spite of itself, and you laughed.

[sorenskyhigh]

Ok... this boy in my school that I'm friends with and likes me can speak fucking Korean and it just does something to me. I keep telling myself that 2D boys are better than 3D boys but like I cannot help it (he is from fucking Ireland btw). Anyway, if you get where I'm going with this... Tendou, Aone, Kenma and a character of choice with a spouse who can speak a different language... be creative with the languages queen and go crazy. Also as a scenario :) THANKS BESTIE :)

Ooooo i love this! Yes! I gotchu! Need a reminder of the real good men, FICTIONAL

A s/o Who Speaks Another Language

Includes Tendou Satori, Aone Takanobu, Kozume Kenma, and of course my pick is gonna be Kuroo Tetsurou but just for fun I'm gonna throw in Hanamaki Takahiro

Tendou Satori

Satori loved being in France, the language, like any, was hard to learn. Still, he loved everything about the culture here. You being his language tutor was a big help as well.

Since most all of your conversations were in French, unless you were practicing your Japanese (you wanted to learn it for him), Satori never knew you were fairly fluent in Arabic.

Arabic is one of a few of the most spoken languages in France (next to French of course and contending with Spanish, German and couple of others), so a good many people could speak it but Satori had no idea you could.

The first time he heard you speak it when you were trying to give someone directions.

You both were lounging about in the grass in The Champ de Mars, the Eiffel Tower at your backs.

It was a day off for Satori and he wanted you both to have a fun lunch out. Satori and you had both worked and cooked up a lunch to take with you to eat out in the sunshine.

You both were munching on some food, his long arm around your waist as you leaned into him when a work friend of yours came up to you.

"Hey, y/n, can you give her directions? She's trying to find her hotel I think?"

"Sure," you said, before standing up and engaging her in conversation. Turns out she was trying to find the Pullman hotel, it was known for its great view of the Eiffel Tower.

She was an older women and had no idea how to use her maps on her phone.

You gave her some quick help before she was on her way. Your friend thanked you, telling you they had no idea what to do and were so glad they saw you.

With a goodbye you turned around to join Satori and his eyes were wide in cartoony shock. You chuckle a little.

"What?"

"I didn't know you could speak, well I don't exactly know what language that was but, that was really amazing!" With that he jumped up and wrapped his arms around you , kissing the top of your head incessantly.

"Yeah, there were a lot of people at my old job that couldn't speak French very well so I learned Arabic to help them out."

"Arabic? Is that what that was?" He pulled away to look at you in excitement, his eyebrows shooting to the stars. His smile was wide and ever so slightly crooked.

"Yes," you barely get out through your giggling.

"You sounded so beutiful!" You could practically see the hearts in his eyes as he stared at you.

"Thank you, it's been awhile,-" Satori cut you off before you could dog yourself.

"Oh, my dear Paradise, as always you sound lovely. No matter the language."

He proceeded to quiet your protests of how shit your thought you were in Japanese with a rather passionate kiss.

He always surprised you with these in public. Satori wasn't shy to show affection in public, he just doesn't show it like this much.

You had to stop him when his long fingered and boney hands slowly wrapped themsleves around your ass cheeks.

Aone Takanobu

Nobu never said it, but he loved the German nicknames you gave him.

He truly loved a of them. Like when you call him your Liebling (darling) when you're asking for him to grab you something you can't reach. Then there's Schnucki when he does something cute or sweet, like when he got you something you had been wanting for a long time for your birthday.

All of these and the many more you use are great, but his favorite is when you call him your Knuddelbär. He melts when you refer to him as your cuddly bear.

You tended to use it when, obviously, you two were cuddling. Like tonight. You both were cuddled together in bed, his big, strong arms wrapped around you with his nose firmly planted onto the crown of your head, taking in your scent.

You had your face securely settled into his broad chest. His large heart beating and rumbling through your skull. It was relaxing.

Nobu liked feeling your smaller heart as well. He's such a big guy that, it didn't matter how big you were, he was bigger and absolutely loved it.

You were mostly asleep as you intook a large breath before sighing contentedly. You were barely able to get out a mumbled, "Knuddelbär," before completely passing out.

Nobu was officially awake, his face red as hell, and his mouth stretched into a massive smile as always. He sighed lightly into your scalp as he squeezed his eyes closed.

His arms wrapped around you a little tighter as it always did. His lips barely forming a kiss to place on your head.

Nobu knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for awhile. He just loved it too much.

Kozume Kenma

You played game with Kenma all the time. And he loved it. His absolute favorite thing is when you get angry and start angrily yelling.

You'd always revert to Filipino when you'd get angry. Kenma didn't like seeing you irritated or angry per se. But he did love see you get angry at video games. Of course he wanted to be happy and live happily and comfortably, but he always at the very least, cracked a smile when you'd start angrily yelling about who knows what when something happens in a game.

Like right now. There was a level you both were trying to get through. Kenna kept getting a little behind because he wanted all the extra stuff in the level. You on the other hand were trying to keep the bad guys off his back.

It was always in the same spot. Seven tries now, where you had died and had to restart the level. You were so angry that you kept making smaller and more ridiculous mistakes as you both went on.

Well you had a enough. It started out with gritted teeth mumbles as you about broke your controller from the grip you had on it.

Kenma told you to wait for him but that just angered you more. You wanted to get through this level. Honestly it wasn't even that. You wanted to destroy that mini boss.

The idea consumed your entire being. It needed to be destroyed or you wouldn't be able to sleep or rest.

So you charged forward and were taking it on on your own and, well, you were obliterated, once again.

Your hands shook as you death-grip clenched the controller. Your entire figure was shaking with rage. You were going to explode in three.......two.........one........

Now you were angrily yelling at the game and controller in Filipino. Kenma just sat there, too. Oh-so-calmly was he, with is controller in hand. His back slumped with terri ke posture as his lips lifted ever so slightly into a smile. He tried to hide it, he really did.

Kenma knew all too well what it was like to be in this situation. He had raged on camera definitely more than once for this very same reason.

But he just couldn't help it. You were all worked up and angrily pointing your finger at the screen after you had just as angrily thrown your controller on the couch.

Kenma stood up and very silently pinned your arms against your sides. He looked you straight in the eye for a moment. He liked to see you get angry, but he also knew when you should calm down and relax.

"Puddin'," he said very calmly and quietly. You stopped, smoke practically spewing from your ears. He simply wrapped his arms around you, still holding your arms down. You slowly lifted your arms as much as you could, and hugged him back.

He very lightly kissed you on your cheek before starting to rock you both back and forth. Nothing was said; nothing needed to be said.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Tetsu loved hearing you speak Spanish. He loved learning about the difference in the Spanish spoken in Spain, Mexico, Argentina, Peru, and all the others.

You knew so much about the history of the language and how the culture in each country would change that slang so much. He loved when you would go on long tangents about it.

Tetsu especially loved when you sang in Spanish. His absolute favorite thing is when he get home from work absolutely exhausted and he hears you singing away as you're cleaning, making dinner, in the tub, or whatever it is that you're doing.

For example, on this particular evening, you were taking a much needed soak in the tub. Lovely smelling soaps and a couple of candles to give a nice dim light for a nice calm vibe.

Bubbles tickled your chin as you sang away. The noise echoing slightly against the walls around you. It didn't matter whether you had a magnificent voice, an average one, or a terrible one. You were just enjoying the moment.

You heard the front door handle jangle and knew Tetsu was home. You continued to sing as you heard the door open and close. The shuffle of him replacing his shoes with house slippers skitter down the hall to you.

You hear him coming closer, dropping his suitcase and then haphazardly throwing his suit jacket, more than likely on the back of the couch.

You continued to sing as his steps got closer. Then you heard a shuffle at the doorway. You opened your eyes and looked. There stood Kuroo Tetsurou, his black button up shirt stressed across his chest, his tie dangling around his neck.

He stood against the door frame, eyes closed as he listened to you. His eyes looked tired, the same as his small smile.

You continued to sing. You sang and sang until the end of the song. At the end, Tetsu smiled so happily. He opened his hazel/yellow eye to look at you. His smile quirked into a smirk as he took some tired and lazy steps towards you.

He sat himself on the edge of the tub. "Mmmmmm, my Spanish Siren. Trying to sing me a song to pull me under the depths to have her way with me, then leave my carcass for the sharks." He snorted a little at the end as he gave slow loving strokes to your cheek.

You hmmed in satisfaction before oh so calmly saying," Like this?" With that you grabbed his arm and caught him by surprise, making it easy to tug him into the full tub, water splashing out onto the tiled floors. His loud, raucous laughter as well as yours rang throughout your home.

Hanamaki Takahiro

You are his baby, his sweetheart, his lovely. Hiro loved you so much. Everything about you just amazed him. One of the many things that just amazed him, was how you sounded speaking Italian.

The first time he heard you, he was blown away. Your voice was so sexy, not that it wasn't when you spoke Japanese. There was just something about it though that he found incredible.

Hiro would urge you constantly to speak in Italian and even teach him a little. You spoke it so much that he, naturally, picked things up.

He always tells you that him speaking Italian just did not have the same ring to it as you.

"Kah-"

"Kah-"

"Mirrah-"

"Mirrah-"

"Day-"

"Day-"

"Laetto."

"Raetto."

"See, you've almost got it. Camera de letto. Try again." You say. Hiro had been wanting to learn how to say bedroom in Italian. He was having some troubles but he was surprisingly good with learning it though.

He sighed in slight defeat. "I just can't do it like you do, la mia gioia." He loved referring to you as is 'joy' but in Italian.

"Please, just one more time," you encourage him.

"I think i need a little incentive, la mia gioia," he looked at you with a small sly smirk.

You sigh before turning to him, "Quindi vuoi incentivi? Che ne dici se smetto di aiutarti?" (So you want incentives? How about if I stop helping you?)

"Oh, you sound so sexy," you cut him off with a loud laugh.

Im sorry it took so long to get this out! I've been feeling a little better and have been having actual ambition to write and wanted to do my best! Thank you as always for sending in an ask!!

@kneecapstealingalien @multifandombrainrot @vaniatslover @popcorntime-doodles @i-need-coffee-now-pls @jiheonity @shadowsbutdead @goshikisimp @anothershadeofpink @mestayanon @ghostexhibit @smallmangi @thatfunnysprout @backalley-astrologer @itsallgonnabokayihope @g00s3 @boreateo @weareallhumans123 @lil-mellow-bunbun @strawberrymakki @beelziee @mehreenackerman @taiyahhh @sakusasgerm @cr4z3d-cl0wn @detective-lazy @mainnews32 @turtletris2tumble @oshun22 @syirahtorizawa @wouldsimply31 @sadisticbelle @queenkaye33 @h3nta1t0ast3r

[ragingbookdragon]

Just Say The Word And I'll Be Yours, You Know I Never Forgot. PT. 3

Asra x M!Apprentice

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author’s Note: You know what’s a problem for me? Not ending stories in 00. Like I cannot finish a story with a WC like 1342. That shit drives me up the wall. So my dumbass decided to write until I got a nice neat, divisible by 5 WC. More work for me, more fic for you. Enjoy! -Thorne

           He watched the boy shift his weight between his feet, eyes darting around far too fast to be a simple scope of his surroundings. Both actions were tell-tale signs that of nervousness, and that anxiety multiplied when Master Dralis laid a hand on his shoulder, shoving him just enough for him to stumble in front of the group of mercenaries. A couple of them snickered, he and the others merely stared at him as he righted himself, a smudge of pink dusted across his pale cheeks.

           “Everyone,” Master Dralis started, silencing the laughter. “This is Avisarion, he’s come from Vesuvia and he’ll be training with us from now on.” He eyed the group leaders in the crowd. “Who wants to take him?”

           For a moment, no one said a word, everyone seeming to avert their gazes from the boy. He knew why. No one wanted fresh blood. That required training and hours’ worth of schooling to be competent enough to fit in with a squad, and no one had that time—especially not the leaders of the squads. So, when Master Dralis met his eyes, he offered a silent nod, watching as the older man pushed Avisarion towards him.

           “(Y/N)’s group will take you for now, boy.” He glanced at the large group. “Dismissed.”

           The mercenaries filed out of the room, some of them giving Avisarion harsh glares that made him frown.

           “Don’t mind them,” (Y/N) muttered as he stepped forward, holding out his hand to shake. “They’re just a bit standoffish.”

           The words were the first kind ones the boy had heard since he came to the castle, other than Master Dralis, and he almost burst into tears as he shook (Y/N)’s hand.

           “How old are you?” (Y/N) asked with a scrutinizing look.

           “Fifteen,” Avisarion murmured. “I just turned fifteen last week.”

           “We’re the same age then.” He looked at Master Dralis. “Permission to take him to the blacksmith for fitting, sir?”

           Master Dralis nodded. “Granted. And make sure you report to Marisa for your next assignment, (Y/N). You’ve sat on your ass long enough.”

           He grinned and with a glance to the boy, he said, “Follow me.”

           Avisarion was quick to obey, and as fast as (Y/N) was moving, he was glad he did. He noted the way the mercenaries in the hallway glared at him, and risking the noting, he stated, “The others around here don’t seem to like me.”

           “Do you have family back in Vesuvia?”

           “I—yes, yes I do,” he answered in confusion. “An aunt who runs an apothecary.”

           (Y/N) nodded. “There’s your reason.”

           “I…don’t follow?”

           He held the door for Avisarion and tipped his head, urging him inside. “Fourth-fifths of the mercenaries in this castle are orphans, taken from the streets of various cities.” Closing the door after him, he added, “When we get a recruit that has family, it tends to make them bitter when they remember they don’t have one themselves.”

           “Oh.” Avisarion murmured, standing near one of the tables that had leather armor on it. “I didn’t know.”

           (Y/N) shrugged. “You learn.” He looked around the room for the blacksmith. “Perrian, we’ve got a new recruit to fit armor with.”

           The man waved him off and he met Avisarion’s eyes. “I’m going to report to Marisa for my assignment, then I’ll come back to show you around.” He nodded at the old man coming over. “Perrian will take care of you. Answer his questions honestly and with the best skill you can.”

           (Y/N) could tell he was scared, and he remembered his own beginning at the castle. He placed a hand on Avisarion’s shoulder and though he smiled, he opted to give him the words truthfully.

           “Life isn’t going to be easy from here on out. I’ve no doubt the others will try to hark on you because your new blood.” Avisarion’s face fell, and he squeezed his shoulder. “But you’re on my squad.” He smiled. “We take care of our own, so don’t worry so much.”

           Avisarion gave him a relived look and he pulled away and headed for the door. “Welcome to the Shadowguards.”

***

           Coldness startled (Y/N) awake; he jerked his head up, eyes snapping open, gaze darting wildly around his surroundings. Tall, dark trees stood silent around him, and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of snow. He had no idea where he was, but that wasn’t the most concerning thing; it was absolutely freezing. As if he’d suddenly realized so, (Y/N) clambered to his feet, pulling his duffle bag back over his shoulder. He was glad that he’d taken his heavy coat with him though as he shoved his hands in his pockets for warmth.

           He glanced in another direction, but it was still the same sight—stillness in snow. No birds singing, no small critters hunting for grubs, not even a deer or an elk scavenging for food in the dirt. It was just (Y/N), alone in this vast expanse of snowfield.

           His breath came in puffs of white clouds and reached up, rubbing at his eyes. Whatever he’d been dreaming about still lingered in his mind, but he couldn’t make out what it was. His best guess was probably a memory and while he was happy to start the journey, he didn’t even know what the supposed Shadowguards were, or who Avisarion was. (Y/N) hadn’t heard of either name, even after coming back to life, and Asra had never mentioned them neither. Whoever they were, they were only known to him.

           A sudden grumbling echoed in his ears and he cursed, placing a hand to his stomach. For a brief moment he considered giving in to his hunger, but he ignored it. I need to find shelter first. He spun in a circle. But I don’t even know which way to go. Sighing, he shut his eyes and held out his hand, ignoring how his fingers seemed to numb when exposed to the frigid air. (Y/N) took a deep breath and relaxed, letting his magic ebb out. He wasn’t searching for anything specific, just a small enough twitch in the web so that he would know which way to head. Just his luck, when he opened his eyes a few moments later, he’d hit nothing.

           “Shit,” he grunted and took one last look around before resigning himself to his fate of wandering around a frozen wasteland until he froze like an ice-cube. His first step almost made him fall on his ass when his foot sunk into a foot and a half of snow. (Y/N) took a calming breath to avoid yelling in frustration, but he did grumble as he freed himself and kept moving.

           He wandered through the snow for almost two whole hours before he came to the edge of the tree line, but his relief was short-lived as the expanse shifted before him, and suddenly he was staring at another forest of dead trees.

           (Y/N) looked up at the darkened sky above him. “Seriously!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “C’mon! Gimme a break!”

           A twinkling sounded behind him and he spun, hand reaching for the dirk at his side, but his heart leapt into his throat at the sight before him. A creature, almost as big as the lodestones back in Vesuvia stood just a few feet away, a sharp scythe in its grasp. Its body was elongated and skeletal, the color of the starless night sky, but the thing that sent shivers up his spine, other than the giant blade it wielded, were the glowing auburn eyes that peered at him from the ivory skull, that of a horse.

           Adrenaline soared through (Y/N) fought viciously with the urge to keep his feet below him and not collapse on weak knees. His fingers curled around the hilt of the dirk and he took a half step back, steadying himself in case the creature attacked. He had to play this carefully. He had no idea what magic it had and the scythe it carried was almost as big as it was. If he wasn’t cautious, he was either going to be blown away by some eldritch blast or bisected. Maybe if he could get behind it, he could daze it with a blast? Maybe try a faint from the front? Maybe go to—

           “You think quite a lot about battle strategy, (Y/N).” He blinked, jaw dropping in shock. The creature cocked its head. “Are you well?”

           His mouth snapped open and shut until he blurted out, “You know me?”

           The creature laughed, and (Y/N) ignored the fact that it didn’t have any vocal cords to make such a noise.

           “We’ve spoken many times, (Y/N). Past and present,” it explained, and (Y/N)’s eyes went wide.

           “You’re Death.”

           Death tipped its head down. “It has been some time since you travelled to my realm, (Y/N). The last time you did was many, many years ago.” Its glowing eyes narrowed in something he recognized as kindness, “Shall we go someplace warmer? It’s been so long since I interacted with humans. I do remember that your fleshy sacks get cold so easily.”

           (Y/N) could only nod in stunned silence as Death waved a hand, and the scenery changed around them. He was pleasantly surprised to see the features of the back room from shop come into view, but even more so that it was no longer freezing. Warmth seeped into his bones and he sunk into one of the plush cushions, dropping the duffle bag behind him.

           “Make yourself at home, (Y/N),” Death suggested. “This place is assuring to you, is it not?”

           (Y/N) sighed with content. “It is.”

He watched as the Arcana took a seat across from him, the scythe disappearing in a whisp of smoke. They placed their hands on the table, dark boney fingers clacking as they interlocked in a neat hold. Their auburn eyes stared into his, as if gazing deep into his soul, and though he felt like he should feel unnerved, he didn’t. In fact, he felt…comfortable.

           (Y/N) looked at them. “Why didn’t you come earlier?”

           Death merely stared. “I was observing. Learning. Remembering you.”

           “You know me well then?”

           Death hummed. “Very.”

[modecaisnow]

The Best Gift for the Big Guy

**This story contains themes suitable for those 18 years or older. This story contains themes of: Extreme Weight Gain, Farting, Sweating, and Size Difference. No relations in this one. HAPPY NEW YEARS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY WATCHERS! (and to those who lurk ☺ )**

Malcolm, a freshman in college, comes home for the holidays hoping for some new workout gear for Christmas. Turns out the bulking powder his parents got him might not work the way it is expected to. Instead, it seems to almost double his weight with each shake! At first, Malcolm is disgusted by the weight gain, and the farting. However, with a supportive family of fitness lovers, and his two older brother's Chris (a heavy weight bodybuilder) and Dan (a fitness instructor), Malcolm might end up falling in love with his size.

Malcolm was the youngest out of three brothers. His older brothers – Chris and Dan, were both out of college and pursuing careers in Health and Fitness. Chris was a heavyweight bodybuilder, and Dan was a fitness instructor – their entire family took fitness very seriously. Malcolm always looked up to his brothers; he especially wanted to become a bodybuilder like his oldest brother, Chris. Malcolm had just finished his first semester at college, and wanted to start exercising so by the time he reached Chris’ age, he could be big like him. For Christmas, Malcolm wanted all new fitness gear: new workout clothes, protein powder, BCAAs, Pre-workout, and bulking powder to help speed up the process. On Christmas morning that was what he got. However, instead of the bulking powder, he asked for, his parents bought him a strange brand from a different country. “It was cheaper, and a worker at the GNC in town suggested it,” Malcolm’s dad said. “That’s okay! I’m sure it’ll work fine!” Malcolm said. Malcolm was never a muscular guy like his brothers. He grew up as the scrawny, geeky kinda kid. He was picked on throughout high school, and when he graduated college he found that people didn’t really seem to notice him when he went out with his friends. This, as well as his admiration for his brothers, is what really pushed him to try and beef up a bit. Right before bed, Malcolm decided to take a scoop of the bulking powder and make himself a shake. After drinking it, he quickly passed out on his full-sized mattress and dozed off into a deep slumber. He woke up the next day feeling heavy all over. His muscles felt strong, but his body was incredibly warm and wobbly. After rubbing his eyes, Malcolm finally woke up and saw that his hands had gotten fatter. Not just that, but so were his arms. Sagging, doughy ones replaced his once boney arms. He quickly threw off the blanket and got a better look at his body. His flat torso was now a landscape of rolls and blubber. His belly button was now a deep cave with a large fold of blubber sagging above it. Malcolm’s chest flopped down over the crest of his belly. He ran his fat fingers over his nipples – they were plump and sensitive. As he hoisted himself out of bed, the frame groaned and the floor creaked slightly. His thick thighs rubbed against each other as he rushed into the bathroom and hopped on the scale. Malcolm leaned forwards and looked over his belly as the scale hesitated and eventually showed the number “423” on the screen. “Holy shit, Malcolm?” Chris yelled as he walked in the bathroom wearing nothing but boxers. His blocky abs flexed as he looked at his now overweight brother. He walked around him and laughed, “Damn! How is this possible? You’re so fuckin’ fat, bro!” “I know!” Malcolm blurted. His now fat-sounding voice took him by surprise. “I’m disgusting!” “Shit…you’re ass puts mine to shame, Malcolm!” Chris put his back against Malcolm’s. Malcolm felt the individual striations of his brother’s gorilla-like back flexing against his wings of back fat. His brother bounced his bubble butt against Malcolm’s fat ass cheeks, making them ripple. Both of Malcolm’s ass cheeks were each double the size of Chris’ muscular, rump.  Malcolm felt an air bubble build in his gut and it slid out his backside. A wet sounding fart spewed out and stunk up the bathroom. Chris gagged, “Shit, bro! That was a nasty one. Anyways, you go put on some clothes, I’ll go get mom.” Malcolm tried to put on some clothes, but nothing fit. Chris broke the news to his family, and they all went to Malcolm to see. They were all shocked at Malcolm’s size. Never in his family history has someone been overweight like that. At 423 pounds, Malcolm was a large boy, he wasn’t the largest in the world, but he was rather big. Luckily, his caring mother decided to take his measurements to try and get him some clothes. In the meantime, they told Malcolm to not use the bulking powder anymore. However, that was all he could think about all day. Malcolm’s mouth watered as he thought about making another shake. Chris was able to find a comically sized speedo that his friends bought him as a joke back when he was bulking. It was meant for someone really large, so he lent it to Malcolm in the meantime. The speedo was bright orange and covered up his fat ass nicely. Some mounds of gelatinous lard sagged down from the bottom of it, and part of his ass crack was exposed out the top, but it worked. Malcolm did his best to cover up his front with the speedo. It was hard to see over his large belly, so he had to just feel around to make sure his junk was concealed. From what he felt, it wasn’t like his junk was really exposed anyway given his fat thighs and sizeable belly, but he tried to hide as much of his fatpad as possible inside the speedo. The front of the speedo dug into his blubbery fatpad right down the middle instead of holding it. He sat on the couch all day with his brothers and played video games. Periodically he would shift over to let out a fart, and his brothers would tease him for the stench. Malcolm would laugh as he would rip a fart on Dan, and Dan would cough and fan the air, making him an easy target in the game. Dan kept saying that Malcolm was cheating by farting, but Malcolm would just elbow him with his flabby arm, knocking Dan over off the couch. That night, Malcolm broke out in a cold sweat. All he could think about was the bulking powder. The taste was euphoric the last time he had some, and he really wanted more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt, so Malcolm hoisted himself out of bed, and waddled off to get another shake. He passed out the minute his chubby face hit the pillow. Malcolm woke up the next day feeling twice as heavy as before. Low and behold, he was. Malcolm lifted up his arms, even more, saggy flesh hung down from them. Even with his arms lifted over his head, he still felt doughy beef flopping against his armpits. He tossed off the sheet and got a better look at himself. Well, from lying on his back, all he saw were his saggy tits that were almost suffocating him, and his massive belly several feet in the air. He rolled onto his side, and his belly sloshed off the side of the bed. His ass fat inched over the opposite end of the full-sized bed. Malcolm huffed and puffed as he rose out of it. The bed frame groaned and sagged painfully. His massive body now flattened the mattress itself. Malcolm panted as he widened his stance and he shifted all of his mass. His belly flopped far over his lap, all the way to his knees. His fat thighs forced his legs to spread apart, and even as far apart as they could go, the folds on the insides of his thighs still swallowed his crotch in deep mounds and warm blubber. Eventually, with a few huffs and puffs, Malcolm made it onto his fat feet. The wooden floor beneath his feet sank downwards and groaned painfully as he waddled out of his room, squeezing out of his door, and into the bathroom. He stepped on the scaled and looked down. No matter how much he tried to suck in his flabby gut or look past it – Malcolm could not see what the number said. He just relaxed his blubbery belly, and let it all hang down. His belly was incredibly heavy, pulling down on him in the front. It sagged down towards his knees, flopping over most of his thighs. When he waddled, his thighs would not only need to swing around each other, but they needed to push against the heavy, flesh skirt that was his belly. Malcolm sighed, as he couldn’t see what the scale said. As he shifted his mass the scale let out a loud series of beeping sounds before snapping in half from his weight. Malcolm’s body ripped and wobbled as his fat feet slammed onto the floor. Malcolm felt a huge pain arise in the pit of his belly. He quickly applied pressure on it, by pushing down with his fat palms. Malcolm then moaned as a long, fog-horn fart belted out from behind him. The bathroom felt slightly warmer as a massive blast of gas polluted the bathroom air. His ass cheeks rippled like pond water as the humid scent spewed out. “Jesus Christ! What’s that smell?” Chris grunted as he waltzed into the bathroom. Chris was wearing nothing but a tight, blue poser. His bubble butt was stretching the back of it. He rubbed his eyes then got a good look of Malcolm, “Holy fuckin’ shit, bro! It happened again?” “Yeah!” Malcolm’s voice felt heavy and thick. It took a lot of energy to continue talking, “I don’t know why!” “It must be that bulking powder. Did you have any more last night?” Malcolm thought to himself. He was starting to like being massively heavy. He was now much larger than both his brothers combined. Malcolm figured he would have to lie, or else his family would throw away the bulking powder if they knew he was still making shakes with it. Malcolm panted, “No…no I didn’t drink any, Chris…” “Hmmm…Well, let’s go tell mom so we can get you some more clothes, okay?” Malcolm agreed. Chris helped guide him out of the bathroom and down the stairs. By the time Malcolm made it downstairs, his face was beat red and was sweating profusely. He panted and flopped down onto the tiny couch. Malcolm easily took up half of the 4-person seater. The cushions were squashed downward and the frame sank. His mom walked in and gasped at the sight of Malcolm’s doughy, naked rolls of blubber. He leaned to the side and ripped a massive fart. His entire body rippled as the blast of air spewed out from behind him. For the entire day, his mother figured out what size clothes he would need by measuring Malcolm. They also contacted a doctor to come to check up on him tomorrow morning. Throughout the rest of the day Malcolm consumed more foods than they could cook, his brother Dan made trips to Malcolm’s favorite fast food joints, and Chris played video games with him all day. Malcolm continued to pull the same tricks he did yesterday by farting on his brother to take his attention away from the screen. Chris would just slap Malcolm’s flabby ass shelf and push back playfully. Being a heavyweight bodybuilder, Chris was quite strong. However, Malcolm, being so substantial and viscous, wasn’t even moved by his brother’s retaliation. His body just rippled and wobbled. The feeling of Chris’ hands sinking deep into his lard felt kinda nice to Malcolm. He loved being so large. Taking up most of the space on the couch felt really euphoric. He wondered how it would be if he got even bigger. That night, Malcolm made himself another shake, but this time he added two scoops of the bulking powder. Right as his flabby body hit the sunken mattress, he passed out. The next morning, it was very hard for Malcolm to lift his hands up to reach his eyes. In fact, his entire face felt heavier. As his eyes opened his chubby facial cheeks blocked the bottom part of his view. He looked down at his flabby hands, which now looked almost unrecognizable. Malcolm’s arms were incredibly heavy. His forearms were now the same size that his massive, flabby upper arms were yesterday. Malcolm’s chest rose and fell with each laborious breath. The floor groaned as he shifted his gigantic mass around. Massive, undulating waves rocked through his body with each subtle movement. Eventually, with some maneuvering, he made it into a sitting position. Malcolm gasped at the sight of his gigantic rolls and folds of doughy flesh. His entire body looked like a gelatinous, tan mountain. He could feel the crushed mattress and bed frame somewhere deep under his gigantic ass cheeks, which spilled out behind and around him by several feet. His belly was now a series of folds piled upon one another with two, sagging tits flopping down the sides. Malcolm could no longer see his fat thighs; he could feel them deep under his massive belly, which spilled around and over them, spilling onto the floor. However, he could feel that his thighs were now covered in gelatinous rolls much like the rest of him. With a massive heave and all his strength, Malcolm rose up onto his fat feet. The ground beneath him groaned painfully and the floorboards popped and cracked. He stomped his way towards his door; his wide body knocked pictures off his walls and pushed his desk and dresser away. The entire room trembled with each movement. As he stood in front of the door, Malcolm noticed it was not just impossibly narrow, but also somewhat shorter than him. He had to sink his already flabby head down into his shoulder blubber. Malcolm then reached his arms through and went through at an angle. His belly quickly spilled out of the doorway, but then mounds of fleshy dough were caught on the sides of the entryway in his bedroom. Malcolm pushed harder and harder. More of his belly oozed out into the hallway along the floor. His ass cheeks rose up higher and higher as he slowly eased his way through the doorframe. The gelatinous consistency of the blubber made it simpler to squeeze through the doorway, but it was still too much flab to get through. The frame cracked and chunks of the wall on both sides collapsed as he shoved in harder. Malcolm ripped a massive fart before sliding out of the hole in the wall. FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHRRRRRRTTTTT His ass cheeks clapped together as a massive blast of hot air spewed out. Malcolm moaned as his entire body jiggled and rippled from the force of the blast. The walls around him all shook violently from the deafening fart. Out of his room came Chris, covering his ears. “Earthquake!” Chris yelled as he stood in the doorway. He quickly gagged and realized what was actually happening. “Oh… my… god!” The family all gathered around as Malcolm’s last farts bubbled out of his blubbery ass crack. Chris and Dan teased him a bit and compared their toned rumps to his massive one. Chris even brushed his tight butt against Malcolm’s and it sank deep into the blubbery flesh. They helped Malcolm down the stairs, which was difficult given his massive belly was sliding along the ground, and his ass cheeks were flopping against the stairs behind him. Eventually, they guided him into the living room, where he parked his gigantic ass down on the couch. Malcolm immediately farted again as his ass cheeks spilled out over the armrests on both sides of the couch. FFFFFFUUUUUURRRRRRHHHHHHTTTTTTT “Nice one, big guy!” Chris said as he elbowed one of Malcolm’s many rolls. The other members of his family all gagged and coughed. “Thanks…I’m getting hungry!” Malcolm grunted. His family quickly went to work on feeding the gelatinous mound of flesh taking up a considerable amount of space in their living room. He continued to fart and rub his doughy flesh, or what parts of it he could reach, as they all continued to gather food for him. Dan tried to get Malcolm to play video games with him, but Malcolm couldn’t quite get his hands close enough together for the controller. Not that the controller even lasted long in his massive, blubbery fingers – it was crushed to pieces almost immediately. Malcolm just laughed it off. His brothers eventually played video games together and Malcolm would just watch. They sat on the ground leaning against the base of his belly. Malcolm would shift to his right or left, making his flab slosh heavily against one side of the couch, so he could fart and let the air escape from deep under his flab. Some of the rancid odors bubbled out from under his belly after being trapped in some of his underbelly lumps. Dan and Chris gagged as the potent fumes polluted the air around them. Soon, the entire house was stained with Malcolm’s rank farts. By the time the doctor came, Malcolm’s body was covered in sweat. The doctor examined every aspect of Malcolm possible and took skin, blood, and sweat samples to run some tests. The doctor also took a sample of the bulking powder. He told Malcolm that the results could take some time, and suggested staying away from any more bulking powder until they find out what caused the sudden weight gain. The doctor floated the idea of scanning Malcolm’s brain to see if there was a pituitary tumor. However, the thought of not only getting the giant blob of doughy flesh out of the house but also squeezing him into a machine made it impossible. The doctor left leaving everyone in the family optimistic. Malcolm, on the other hand, was optimistic about the lifestyle he was going to start leading. Malcolm continued to eat all day long, requesting more and more food. His rolls and folds undulated in powerful waves with every subtle movement. Sometimes the ripples would collide and slap together loudly. He leaned back on the couch and the frame of it gave out one last pop before snapping into pieces. The massive blob of lard flopped to the ground. The entire house shook viciously. Malcolm’s rolls spilled out farther around him, flopping against the back wall and knocking over his brothers who were leaning against his belly. “Mmmpph… my bad” was all Malcolm said. ---EPILOGUE--- Malcolm now lives in the family’s garage. There, he had a huge entrance and exit for when they back up the truck to take him places. It was also well ventilated so he did not need to hold back farts, not that he ever did. The entrance to the house from the garage was also expanded so that Malcolm could still waddle in and spend dinner with the family. Not that he could sit at the table, but he could sit near enough so his belly sloshed against it. Usually, he sat in the living room and for dinner, he would wobble his gelatinous rolls to face the dining room. Malcolm ended up getting clothes that could fit him. He wore a massive, jockstrap, the straps of which squeezed his ass cheeks so much that they could not be seen from all the lard. On top of that, he wore large sweatpants and a massive t-shirt. Both of which were stained with sweat and food grease. Sweat stains had completely soaked the deep ass crack on his sweatpants. Every fold of blubber produced so much heat and sweat that they too stained his clothing. Malcolm spends his days now eating from his trough and farting non-stop. The gas had become so bad, that his brothers had to place a tube in his ass crack to displace some of the farts outside. From the outside, it looked like a smokestack for a factory, but instead of producing smoke it produced a rancid, dark green haze. His brothers also kept him fed the entire day. When his brothers stopped hearing him grunting and snorting from inside the garage, they would come in and dump wheelbarrows full of fattening slop for their brother to eat. Malcolm would then return to shoving his face deep into the trough, letting his folds and rolls spill out all over the cracking, cold cement floor of the garage. His body rocked back and forth as he grunted and oinked loudly while he ate. The force of his blubber’s powerful undulations caused the entire garage to tremble. The life Malcolm started to live was not what he expected. He thought that he would be able to get people’s attention by becoming a large, muscular bodybuilder. Someone that people looked up to, and did not dare mess with. However, he found that gaining mounds of lard had the same results, but it was much easier – no pain, but plenty of gain. Malcolm loved his massive size and was excited for his friends in college to see what he looks like.

[seokiloquy]

Bones - Sugawara Koushi

AU: Corpse Bride (Groom)

Revamp

Word Count: 3k

"Watta wuss." 

You walked through the forest on the edge of the city, trying to get away from your responsibilities. Decomposing leaves and bark decorated ground you walked on. Looking around you found yourself in an open patch, but towers of wood in every direction. The trees were old and weary, slowly shedding all of their components for fall. You shivered as a breeze whistled through them. A chill crawled down your spine as you sat on the tree stump in the centre of the open grass. You glared into the dark shadows of the forest with a huff.

The moon let off a dim light that made everything look like an old movie, too dark to make anything out. The shadows were intense and the light was dull. Even as your eyes adjusted to the dark, it was hard to see. You fiddled with the golden ring your parents dropped in your hands before you ran off. Leaning forward, you studied the cool metal that was too big for your finger and the small diamond that twinkled gently.

"I have to propose. I have to plan for the wedding. I have to pay for the wedding. I have to buy the house. I have to do everything while he just goes to the tavern every night while his parents think he's doing his damn job." You ranted, getting up to pace in circles around the stump.

"Oh, sir!" You chanted snobbily, freezing in position, holding the ring out in front of you, dramatically flicking hair over your shoulder. "I couldn't help but notice how handsome you were as I was passing by. In fact, I'm meant to get married. I even have a ring that I must use to propose to a man worthy of it! Please, do me the honour of picking up after your worthless self for the rest of my miserable life. Your presence will make it all the more bearable."

Leaning down to a branch sticking out of the dirt. You slipped the ring onto it and spun away, landing on your knee. The wind danced happily through your fingers that were flared open in the air behind you.

"Oh look, a perfect fit! You must be my husband. It's meant to be!" tilting your head toward your shoulder you let out a low grumble, letting your eyes roll along the rim of your eyelid. "If only you would get off your lazy ass for a change."

"Well I sure do hope that wasn't directed at me."

Turning in circles, you looked for the source of the man's voice. All you saw were the dark woods that surrounded you, making fear take over the anger you that was boiling in your stomach. Your shoulders twitched up to your ears.

"Down here."

If someone said a stick could talk, after today, you would believe them. The stick, that was wearing the engagement ring, was now positioned as if wearing a sock puppet, moving it’s thumb as it spoke. The wrist rolled snootily.

"But I sure do hope you won't speak to me like that, because I for one believe that as your fiance, I should be treated like royalty."

Blinking you stepped away from the stick and waddled back around the stump. Crouching onto your knees, you held the wood’s rim tightly. The pinky and pointer fingers curled up, creating a shape that took the place of the hand’s eyes.

"I've gone insane. They've driven me mad. I'm talking to a stick. Wait no, a stick is talking to me!"

Looking at the twig and moving back and forth, you watched as it watched you. Pointing in the direction you leaned. With a loud whine, you smacked your forehead on the wooden stump.

"As much as I deeply care for you. Could you not call me a stick? I am flesh and bones after all, well, mostly bones. But I still have flesh... Somewhere... But I can't seem to find it at the moment. It has a tendency to fall off from time to time,” it laughed. How could it laugh?

The hand moved around a bit more before opening up in your direction.

"You could always help me of course, you are my fiance after all."

You quickly got to your feet, speeding around the stump to face the old root.

"I'm not your fiance. You're not my fiance. I'm dreaming. This isn't real. I'll wake up tomorrow morning and—"

"Do you trust me?"

"What? What kind of question is that? You’re a twig!"

"This world. Your life. It brings you pain. That much is plain to see… uh, hear. If you were to come with me. You wouldn't have to face it any longer. Please, as my fiance?"

Shivering, you looked at the open hand/stick thing as you stepped towards it and let your hand hover over it. Your upper lip curled when you noticed the fuzzy moss that had grown in the center of its palm.

"My names (Y/N). And I'm not your fiance."

"Well, princess, the name's Sugawara, Koushi. And I'm sure you won't be saying that for long."

Placing your hand in it, you felt each joint bend and wrap around it. The gagging was hard to stop when the moss pushed in between the crevices of your fingers.

"You're rather boney, sweetheart. You don't eat much meat do you?"

"Don't have a stomach to do so."

Before another word could slip off your tongue, it pulled you in. The light reflecting off the moon made the diamond on the ring twinkle, giving you a bit of light in the black abyss that surrounded you.

"What in the world?!"

"Correction, what in the underworld," Sugawara said as he pulled you along through the crowds of zombies.

"Underworld?!" you looked around at the walking corpses around you as they tilted their hats, said hello and/or waved in your direction. Your hand quivered as you waved back.

"Yes! I live here. And here we will get married." He turned a corner that led to a flight of stairs.

"Married?!" you stopped dead in your tracks as Sugawara's body continued forward. Leaving his arm with you. His detached hand had a very firm grip on yours. You screeched and tried shaking the limb off, but its grip continued to tighten. “Eughh! Get it off, get it off get it off!”

"Yes married! You proposed didn't you? Oh, do you mind bringing me my arm? It gets attached easily, won't let you go just yet." He didn’t at all seem to mind missing an arm.

A chill ran through your spine at the idea of forever being attached to a detached limb of a dead man. You took a step forward, pushing the arm back into its socket with a sort of snap before eagerly pulling away with a disgusted gag.

"(Y/N), now that my arm’s attached, how about we go talk to the priest and discuss our marriage? Or do you want to go home first? You're probably tired and hungry. Home it is then. I can make you a great meal. Would you prefer decomposed scrambled eggs or mealworm sandwiches? Oh, you know what, I’ll just surprise you. Come along!"

The short ramble was finished when he started walking again. His skin, though still faint of colour, looked much fresher? At least compared to those in the streets, who had flesh falling off their cheeks. His hair was a light grey, though you wouldn't be able to tell if it was natural or just grey from death. He looked young, much too young. 

"Sugawara, how did you die?"

Looking at you Sugawara smiled with an upbeat laugh as he continued walking. The light laugh calmed your nerves slightly making you feel at ease despite the peculiar situation. He guided you gently onto cracked old steps that led up a hill. 

"I was murdered," he said, opening the door to an old rickety building.

He walked in with his hands open, palms facing the old wooden boards, and a small sway. It looked like he was trying to not skip around. You stayed in the doorway. Nails digging into the skin of your arms. You had forgotten to grab a coat when you ran out of your house.

"Ah," he sighed as he pushed things around on a circular table in the room. "Home, sweet home. Don't mind the mess, it's just something I've been working on."

He picked up various bottles filled with things from liquids to objects and set them on a counter nearby. The house wasn’t messy, just old and slowly collapsing on its side.

"Murdered? By who? When?" you asked, holding your hands tightly together as Sugawara sat you down at the now organized table.

"I don't quite remember. Your mind begins to go the longer you're dead. Time-wise it might have been 5 years ago? Maybe 6." he went to the kitchen and began putting some food together, but continued to talk over his shoulder. "Tomorrow morning I need to speak with the witch. So, we could go speak to the priest first and then consult the witch on my project."

He placed an unknown pile of what could be food before you. “It may be a bit rough. I haven’t needed food for a long time. Or air for that matter.”

"Either you live." The old (oh so very old) man's finger shifted to point in your direction instead of Sugawara who he was speaking to, "Or she dies."

Smiling, Sugawara nodded, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the door. "That went well."

"Well?" You asked. Eyebrows beginning to push in opposite directions.

"Yes well. We have two options and they are both very simple. Now knife or mallet?"

"For what?"

Stopping Sugawara turned to you with a slightly confused look on his face.

"To kill you of course. What else would they be for, princess?"

Completely freezing in your place you shook in fear at the thought of dying at the hands of a weapon. Sugawara's laugh on the other hand gave off a completely different story. Turning around, he took hold of your shoulders, squeezing them with his sharp, boney fingers.

"I'm kidding! Why do you think we're going to the witch? I've been planning for this for ages. Now my chance to live again, take back the life that was mine and get rid of a murderer in the process. Maybe an axe? That would hurt more right?"

When the two of you got to a large door, Sugawara used the looped handle to knock against the wood. An old (but definitely less decayed) lady opened the door and allowed the two of you inside.

You mumbled to Sugawara under your breath, “Whatever lasts the longest without knocking them unconscious will be the most painful.”

"Last bit," you said, dropping an unidentified liquid into the brewing mixture in front of the three of you.

Sugawara clung to the side of the pot but suddenly let go when it began to boil, causing his hands to rip off as they still hung to the metal. You gently pulled them off and shoved them back in place, giving Sugawara back the ability to pat your head gently. He sighed looking at the lavender liquid as it bubbled.

"This took longer than expected," you grumbled. 

"How long did you think it would take?" Sugawara smiled down at you and laughed to himself.

"A week at most. I now know that I drastically underestimated the amount of time it would take to do this. Do you want to try it?" you asked holding his boney arm above the brew.

"You should take a sip too. Your time spent here has taken a role in your health. You look like a ghost." He smiled, filling two vials with the potion.

You grimaced, looking at your skin that had lost a lot of pigmentation since getting here.

The old lady packed away her things and pulled out a book on potions and magic and she sat to read. "Close your eyes. That way you won't go blind." she croaked out.

Sugawara handed you a vial as he held his own. He smiled so broadly it ripped the sides of his mouth. He didn’t seem to feel the pain. You winced for him and held up the potion.

"Cheers."

When you had shown up to your parents’ house with a man that they had never seen they were a bit more than furious. After a number of days spent missing just to turn up with someone other than the ones they had suggested, your parents were more than willing to give you a lecture that lasted a few hours. You apologized for running away before going into your own rant about how poor their choice in men was (your dad was more offended by that). After discussing the agreement further, with Sugawara happily listening in by the closed doorway, the three of you had finally come to an agreement. 

Sadly it left you in a similar situation as before. Working and paying for everything until Sugawara found a job. A job that wasn’t going after his previous murderer.

Trees created a thick wall around the two of you. You laid down in the grass circle in the centre of it. Looking up at the sky, you watched as the pastels melted together in a sunset. Forcing yourself to sit up, shifting the extra weight on your legs as you tried to move and lean against the tree stump.

"It's good to see the colour in your face. You look alive. You aren't skin and bones either. You finally have some muscles in that body of yours." Your fingers twisted the ends of his silver hair as his head rested on your lap, looking upwards to see the tops of the trees and light sky. His cheeks were full and free of tearing the skin. His hands were strong with underlying muscle but still looked gentle. No bones were in sight. His hair colour didn’t seem to be a bi-product of death though.

"It's nice to have a heartbeat. And be able to feel yours."

You smiled and let your hand rest on Sugawara's chest as he breathed in suddenly and heavily.

"Don't forget the breath."

"Sorry, I still have to get used to that."

You looked up at the trees, watching the bright birds flying around as they enjoyed the spring heat.

"Is that marriage proposal still on the table?"

"Mawiage," the priest, though trying, said horribly. He continued on, his lisp making his words come out jumbled and difficult to understand. He stood on a tall stool and wore a long robe to appear much taller than he really was. He read off a folder to the few people who sat in the audience that was made up by your closest friends and family. Which meant they were all laughing loudly every time the priest spoke and ready to go out and get drunk.

In front of you, Sugawara held your hands gently squeezing them every time the priest tried to pronounce any 'l', 'r' or 's' sound. At least he was cheap, or at least you thought he was.

"May youw wove watht ath wong ath the mithithippi wiver. Wasthing until death doeth you part."

Sugawara squeezed your hands tightly as a snort escaped from him. The priest shot an annoyed look at the silver-haired man wearing a nice suit. You pinched your lips together desperately trying to hold onto your breath

“Sorry,” he whispered.

A small number of flowers were spread along and around the small church. Your friends sat in their seats smiling in nice clothing as they watched you and a previously dead man get married. Earlier that day your friends split themselves up between jobs. Some took Sugawara to get a suit, a few grabbed decorations and brought them to a small church all while booking a last-minute priest and the last two shoved you into a white dress that flowed around your ankles. It had a few holes here and there, and it had definitely been worn by multiple people before you, but did the job. But, it was obvious that they spent more money on Sugawara’s suit.

"Would you pweath not thpeak. I’m twying to wowk hewe."

"Sorry, again. Please continue."

Sugawara turned to you, smiling gently as he leaned closer to rest his forehead against yours. He huffed a restrained breath through his nose.

"Your friends are amazing. It's hard to believe they managed to do all this in a morning," he said.

"They probably have been planning this for weeks. They love you." You smiled, flicking your eyes to your friends.

"I love you," he whispered, trying to pull you as close to him as possible.

"I love you too."

"Yeth yeth, I wove you too. But you may now kith the bwide."

Laughing, Sugawara pulled you closer, holding you as if you were about to dance out of the church and onto the streets. You tried not to snort into his face as his hand tickled your side. It got harder to restrain yourself when he started to talk.

"May I kith you, printheth?"

You chortled, throwing your head backwards while smacking his shoulder repeatedly. He chuckled but waited for your response.

"Yeth you may, my pwinth."

With a grin, Sugawara placed his hands on the small of your back pulling you right up against him. Your heart throbbed sending tingles down your spine and onto the palm of your hands. He held you like a glass sculpture that could shatter at any moment.

He places his lips gently against yours, squeezing you when he began to run out of air. He huffed, sucking in as much as he could.

"I still got to get used to this breathing thing."

I would put a gif of Betty White dabbing, but that’s distracting. - Bacon

Posted: 03/08/2020

[monochromemedic]

Little Christmas thingy

Fallon’s eyes shifted from behind his frosted shades, his gaze hanging on the casual clothes adorning his best friend’s body. You’d think someone dressed in some jeans and a sweater for a Christmas weekend would be... comforting but it was like a final nail in the coffin of unease that was enveloping the man. Why couldn’t he just wear a damn suit like always? Dom looked own at Fallon, how haggard he looked, unhinged. He hadn’t shaved in days, his pale skin donning a greasy sheen that reminded Dom of a hormonal teenager. His small frame was covered in thick coats and a hoodie, but even so the way he slouched made him look miniscule.  “Thank you for coming... by the way. I know you’d probably be anywhere else then your roommate’s parent’s home but, I think it really might help. Especially for Christmas. I couldn’t leave you home in good faith.” “Why, you think I’m gonna pull something?” Fallon scoffed, face turning away from Dom as he rang the doorbell, a harmonious charm echoing in the night air. “What? No, I was just thinking... t-the whole holiday thing, are you?” Dom asked, his voice raising in concern. “Huh? What, no I was just gonna get alcohol poisoning if anything!” Fallon whined, hands slipping out of his jacket pockets to accentuate his sentence. “I’m not some prick that would leave a dead body lying around for someone else to pick up. I’m an ass but I ain’t that much of an ass-” “Jesus Christ, I really hope this is one of your dark jokes-” “It is! It is!” Fallon groaned, his entire demeanor shrinking as the front door opened, his bangs hiding his face as an older woman stepped forth. The woman was short and round in frame, her hair almost white shade of blonde that loosely fell against her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep blue that shine a kindness that she didn’t seem accustomed fully to, like a sudden realization that she truly was happy in life and had to remind herself of that every morning. “Dominic... It’s so good to see you sweetie.” She cooed as Dom  leaned down, embracing his mother in his arms. “Hi Momma, are Cassie and Audie already here?” “Of course, they’re in the kitchen trying to pick at the snacks. But don’t be rude, introduce me to your friend here.” “Mom... this is Fallon. Fallon this is my... mom or I guess-” “Grace. Please, call me Grace.” She interrupted, holding her small hand out towards the lanky man. Fallon eyes darted over her gesture, sheepishly wrapping his boney, cold hand over hers.  “Don’t worry, Dominic isn’t one to gossip about people. He’s always said the nicest things about you dear. When we heard he was bringing you over on such short notice, I was a bit surprised. He never brings ANYONE over for the holidays so I knew you had to be someone special!” Her face fell for a moment, a deep solemn expression as her fingers held his hand closer to her. “Don’t worry honey, we’ll be on our best behavior.” Fallon shirked away, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as Grace let them into the house, Dominic already shedding his jacket and shoes at the door. “Princey can you show Fallon around the place, I need to take care of the food.” Grace called out, entering some distant room of the house to start a playful conversation with some unknown person. Fallon raised an eyebrow, trying to find a hook to hang his jacket on the cluttered coatrack.  “Princey?” Dom sighed, cheeks red as he looked around the house, observing for any changes in the decor. “Ah, that’s my... nickname. The whole King last name... I was her little Prince.” “Adorable, I think I’m gonna go throw up now if you don’t mind.” “Very funny.” He grumbled, lightly pinching Fallon’s ear to playfully drag him room to room. “If you start opening your mouth however, you’re gonna earn a slew of new nicknames yourself. The girls are ruthless... not in the mean way it’s all loving. Hopefully.” Fallon’s feet dragged as he was chauffeured to the living room, the long abandoned bedrooms, bathrooms and eventually the kitchen to where the action seemed to be focused on. Grace was bent over the stove, tending to something cooking in a pot that Fallon couldn’t identify while two women drank and laughed while eating crackers and cheese that was laid before them. One of the sisters had long beautiful blonde hair, dimples prominent on her sharp cheekbones. The other had shorter, dark brown hair, a pair of stylish glasses accentuating her soft features. “Oh wow, he really does have mint green hair!” The brunette chimed out before covering her mouth, walking straight past Dom’s open arms to greet Fallon. “God, I am so sorry, I just... Dom always talks about you says talks about your hair and I always thought it’d be less saturated but god! I’m Audrey by the way, youngest.” Dom’s open arms fell with a sigh as the blonde, presumably Cassie stepped up to him, muttering something softly before embracing him.  “I’m heartbroken Audie, haven’t seen you in a whole year and you walk right past me for the new guy!” Dominic whined only to get a middle finger in return, earning a loud exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “I’ve had to live with you for 18 years, I don’t gotta pay attention to you.” Her attention turned back to Fallon, swirling the eggnog in her glass. “You want a drink? I can spike your nog, makes things ten times more bearable.” “Uh no I-... ya know what sure.” He grumbled, watching as Dom began to converse with the other two women, his being swatted by his mother as tried to steal some of the meal she was preparing. “Wait! That’s what the crackers and veggies are for.” “I’m a growing boy, I need some substance-” “You don’t need anymore! Now you friend-” “Momma...” He groaned, his voice playful but warning her to be careful with her words. “Isn’t it my god given right as-as a maternal figure to over feed any child I see? Isn’t that what I’m here for?” She complained, swatting Dom’s hand again as he tried to dart his hand in while she monologued. He burst into laughter as she caught him again, turning to grab a drink from the fridge in shame. Is this what families did now adays? Good families? Ones with siblings and a parent that didn’t think you were a burden? Fallon had to admit he didn’t fully understand it but the way Dom seemed to brighten up around the others... well who couldn’t be envious of that? Fallon’s thoughts were interrupted by Audrey shoving a drink into his hands, his head turning to meet her face. “I put like a shot worth of rum in there, don’t worry I got you.” She winked, taking a big chug of her own. “Jesus! Did I make that bad of a first impression already that you wanna see me bent over a toilet?” Fallon exclaimed, swirling the thick liquid in the glass, eyes widening even further. “This is like half nog, half shot!” “Look you either take the drink and chill out a bit or you get to wallow in that big rain cloud over your head like the sad sap you are.” Fallon looked at her incredulously, not expecting anything like that from someone who shared a cent of DNA with Dom. He had to respect that. He took a large wig of the concoction, face twisting at how thick the drink really was. “Ay, that a boy, puts down drinks like a champ!” She exclaimed, patting Fallon’s back so hard he lurched forward in surprise. “Audrey be nice.” Cassandra warned “I am! I made the guy a drink, I’m slapping him on the back like the BOYS do ya know BOYS... I’m connecting!”  “You’re breaking him.” “No, No you’d be surprised at how sturdy I can really be. I just think a little nog is making it’s way back into my nasal cavity.” He coughed, face scrunching as he tried to regain his breath. “Hot.” Audrey interjected, earning a look from Cassie.

[devilbat]

The Mummy

Warning: violence, guns, implied smut. Getting handsy.

James Conrad x reader. (This is My first James one shot)

A/n: another one to add to my classic Movie monster AUs Tom Hiddleston character. 

Happy Halloween 🎃

           This was your first real big break as a archaeologist. You had always been at the desk in the museum working on and restoring old artifacts. When you heard that your predecessor was ill and couldn't not make the Journey to Egypt. You jumped at the chance. Begging him to let you. At first he didn't want you to go. Being you were a woman and a lot could happen during this time and age. With a lot of convincing and arguments, you were on your way with his long time buddy James Conrad a former British army SAS Captain. Now freelance bodyguard as you put it. He was not what you were expecting. When you met him. You were bubbly and looking for Adventure. He was bruty, always on Guard and seemed to be annoyed all the time. Well at least around you.

        Handsomely overly attractive how could one man be that rugged, ruff around the edges and still be so damn hot. His jawline line was sharp with a bit of stubble. Oi and let's not forget his deep velvet smooth English accent, could make your panties drop with just one word. He was getting on your nerves. You could never stray to far from him. The first night in Egypt, you just wanted explore the rich culture, the food. James had other plans for you. As you were set to stay in the hotel room until dawn. When you would embark the long travel by camel to the valley of the kings.

            To say you were hot was understatement. The camel that was unpleasantly jilting you around on, had this obsession to nip at you ever chance he got when you weren't paying attention to him. Let's not forget he had bit of a smell to him. If you had a hose and some soap he would, damn well get a bath. The long days turned in to short moments of coolness from the heat of the sun. You had decided to name the stupid animal after one of your ex's just because he was acting as an ass. When your group stop to rest. You complained about you ass hurting and in need of a shower. Mostly you were talking with Carl your camel. But you saw the roll of Conrad eyes directed at you. Making you huff, you were sure he just saw you as some rich city girl that knew nothing of a hard life.

          James couldn't help be a bit annoyed when his friend asked to take a team of archaeologists to search some dusty old tomb. Sure his friend paid him well. What was one more favor. Even if James save that mans life more then once while they served together. He was no babysitter and the girl, the girl was a bit of an inconvenience. Knowing she was going to somehow get her cute ass in some kind of trouble. Right now all he really wanted to do is go back to some hole in the wall bar and drink himself to death, perhaps. 

             "Owe, You know Carl we've had this moment there where you didn't nip at me and now you've gone and done it." You hissed softly Swatting at the camel pushing his head away from you butt.

            "Why did you name the Camel Carl?" James question, never looking over from what he was doing as he pulled the canteen from the rucksack on the camels back.

           "Why are you ease dropping?" You huffed glaring over at the back of the mans head, eyes wondering over his back as ever muscle flexed when he moved about taking a long drink of water. You licked you lips at the sit. His Adam's apple bobbing along as he drank. Sweat trickling down his neck. If your mouth wasn't dry before it was dry now. No amount of water quench that thirst. The thought of running you tongue along his neck. Tasting that saltiness of his skin. You mind started to wonder about the Captain. "Owe! Carl that was more then enough ass the last time" You shrieked. The camel In question bit a little hard this time taking a bigger bite. Carl made a grunting and what sounded like a laughing noise. Making James choke on water as he tried not to laugh. "Hey! Don't side with Carl."

              "I think he likes you." James smiled a bit more. You huffed in announce mumbling 'men' under your breath, and walked away. Carl followed closely behind nudging at you backside. "Knock it off." You hissed pushing the camels head away from you. James chuckled more audibly after his small bit of coughing mostly trying to cover his laughter. But he couldn't help it the camel had a thing for you. It was quite cute. Seeing Conrad smile finally after only seeing him with a bruting expression, was kind of nice. He was just as handsome if not more with a smirk on his face. Sure you wouldn't mind kissing it off of him. No wait you wanted to punch it off of him. Cause he was an ass like Carl, who was not taking no for an answer.

           The valley of Kings, was without a doubt the most breath taking view so far. After about a month of excavating and exploring. Strange things started happening. You swear you heard your name being called late at night, after everyone was asleep. Thinking it was James messing with you. Calling him an ass later that morning, as you walked passed him. You were digging in an empty room, one of many. You needed some distance between you and the captain. You couldn't focus around the man. So when he wasn't looking you snuck off. With one other, one of the many sent to help you excavate. Everything was going well, until the sand floor of the tomb started to move. Like sand in an hour glass. It took you down with it.

          "Help." You called up from where you had landed. You could hear your name from above you. So that meant you weren’t to far down. "Down here." The dark room made it impossible for your to see what was around you. Knowing if you stayed put Jame even though he would be not to please with you. Would more then find you. It was what he did. Even if the itch to feel your way about the area was driving you to scratch.

         "Y/n?" You heard your name. It sounded like it was coming from beside you.

         "James, I'm down here." You yelled, Not sure if you should move. This eerie feeling crowded up you spine. It almost felt like someone was next to you. You heard your name again. Knowing you had a lighter in your pocked, digging in to retrieve it. Striking the lighter with your thumb, the flame flickered. Helping you see a bit. As you turned around slowly. 

          A blood curdling scream ripped through your throat. When your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Ratty old dusty bandages wrapped around its entire form. This man looked to have been dried up like he had been in the sun for months on end. His lifeless empty eyes stared at you. A moaning like a zombie, erupted from its throat. It wasn't a man it had to of been one of the mummies you were in Search for. The lifeless corpse jerking as it moved towards you. Another scream was pulled from you as you attempt to move away. Only to fall flat on your bitten bruised ass, damn Carl. Hitting your head on something hard, the last thing you heard was James from above calling for you. Telling you to "stay put." Tell that to the thing pulling at your leg. That was not going to be an option.

        Hands that's what you were feeling. Strong boney fingers roaming around expose heated skin. Though your don't remember at any point taking you clothes off for the night. You moaned out James name. His hands were ruff most likely from working with them. Holding a gun with those hands and now they were on you. James strong voice calling your name, making you squirm. You eyes fluttered open, the room was large and brightly lit by glowing flames along the walls. Were you back in the city? Oh but those hands still roaming. Your movement was minimal like there were wall around you. Your were in a sarcophagus. Panic set in as your eyes moved to see those hands that were on you. You shrieked as you grabbed the mummy like hands that moved without a body.

            Sitting up you could see the room clearly now. You head felt heavy like something was on top of it. Your hand moved feeling the large head pice. Pulling it off to get a better look. It was incrusted with jewels and a beetle in the center of it. It was beautiful. Looking down you saw that your breasts were cover not by much. But were covered with some kind of bird that laid between your breasts as the wing covered you nipples. It too was covered in jewels. The same went with your lower half. But only shear fabric covered front and back of your legs leaving the side exposed.

         This had to be a dream still. Mummies could not come back to life. Nor could they kidnap a girl and dresser her in practically nothing, like some Egyptian goddess. Where was James? Hell where was Carl your loyal ass of a camel. And where the hell did those hands go. Pulling yourself out once you figured it was safe. Standing on unsteady legs, you lurched forward almost falling.  Slowly walking around. The sand was cool on the bottom of your bare feet. A shiver ran down your spine.

It felt like something was behind you. And there was, the mummy stood there arms without hand reached out for you as you lurched forward. The dried bones clothed hand grabbed at your ankles cause you to fall on you back and the mummy attack you. Screaming as you tried pulling away. Hands finally meeting arms, as you struggled to get what shouldn't have weighed that much, off you. You name being called from the mummy. Pushing it off of you scrabbles to your feet, it did too. The corpse backing you into a corner. You closed your eyes tears fell free, you called for help. A loud bang followed by another, then another. You opened your eyes to see James in the clearing of the wall. Armed with his pistol, amid at the mummy. It longed at James. But this time James amid for the head. And it seemed the mummy stayed down.

        "Y/n, are you all right?" He asked, before he could get a chance to look you over for any injuries, you wrapped yourself around his midsection shanking. Tears soaking his light blue almost grey shirt. "Hey, shhh, it's all right. I'm here, I'm here." He rubbed your exposed back. Finding a tapestry on the wall, he wrapped it around you holding you closer to him. The sun had long set as he guided you out of the pyramid, taking you back to your tent.

        "Y/n, I'm going to take a look to see if you’re injured now, ok?" James voice was above a whisper. Setting you on the cot like bed. He pulled the tapestry off your shoulders. He had someone fetch him a first aid kit. His eyes roamed over your form. To say you were absolutely stunning was an understatement. He didn't realize what a Beaty you truly were until he though you were lost or worse. The kid with the first aid kit pulled James out of this thoughts. Clearing his dry throat as pulled the kit open. You winced a bit when he gently dabbed at a scratch. "Sorry."

          "Thank you." You mumbled, looking at him as he gently whipped each cut. Each time made you whimper.

             "I wasn't going to leave you down there. And that, that.." James trailed off.

            "The Mummy." You hissed out as James hit a deep bruise. "I think it's safe to say everywhere hurts. Besides my forehead." You announced when he tried to press on a bandage. Not noticed his sly smile, he kissed your forehead. His warm lips lingering a bit before pulling away. "My cheek as well." James lips moved to your cheek. Lips pressed firmly against it. His stubble scratch just a bit at smooth flesh.

         "Anywhere else?" James mumbled against you cheek before he moved away. You hands pressed against you lips.

          "And maybe my lips?" You question, before moving your fingers. As soon as your fingers left your lips. His lips were on yours before you could breath out. Finding yourself kissing back. Your own hands gripping the nap of his neck and tangled into short hair. You felt your back on the cot and James chest pressed against yours. His strong warm hands glide easily over your skin. Cupping the underside of your breasts that were exposed. You moaned out His name. His lips left your swollen lips, tracing along your jawline before moving to you neck. His other hand rounded over your backside, large hand grabbing, groped at you. Pulling at your thigh lifting up over, giving him better access.

You gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you. Both of you jumped when you heard a grunt followed by a roar. Both of you looked over at the opening of the tent. Carl head poked through the now opening. Grunting out, his foot stomped and dragged, clearly not happy. James huffed but turned back to you, his lips back on to yours. Trying to ignore the beast. Carl didn’t like this and pulled his body in more grunting his displeasure.

“I don’t think he likes you.” You mumbled against his lips. James groaned in annoyance. Knowing that camel would not stop. James pulled away from you. Which made you whimper. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone at least not tonight.” James smiled and did as he was commanded. Though he did give you his shirt so you wouldn’t be that distracting. It really didn’t help either.

Everything in the camp was packed up. After what happened to you. The locals said this was cursed grounds and would not continue. Leaving you no choice to pack up and leave. Which hurt you to have to leave knowing there was so much that was yet to be discovered. Even with the items that your wore and the tapestry James used to cover you amongst other things. Walking towards James, Carl trailing behind. He smiled at you, still wearing the shirt he given you last night.

“You know, I have to say Carl is a real hero. He really did save my life.” You teased, making James raise his eyebrow at you.

“What about me?” James pouted a bit. Hands pulling you against him.

“Well I guess you helped too. You were like the side kick. Carl and Captain James Conrad. I mean you did do all the heavy lifting.” You smirked wrapping you arms around him.

“Really?” He smirked pulling you in to a passionate heated kiss. His other arm wrapped around your waist holding you close. Carl hissed and grunted in annoyance. Not getting his way, he moved forward nipping James right in the ass. Making the man yelp. You giggled as James rubbed at his ass. Which you may have placed your there instead.

“I think he likes you.” Kissing his cheek. Before pulling away.

“Oh I can’t wait until he is returned to his owner.” James hissed.

“I don’t know I think I might keep him.” You teased.

[coaxol0tl]

21 with a villian ship from bnha ÙwÚ

I went OFF with this one, (Shigaraki is a noble & Kurogiri his servant)

_______

Shigaraki watched himself in the large full length mirror, slowly turning from side to side, his long white sleeping gown billowing gently around him.

He bent slightly, taking the edge of the nightgown between his thumb and index finger, and lifting it to show what he was wearing underneath.

A set of lingerie that he bought on a whim.

Royal Blue with gold accents that stood out boldly against his ghostly complexion.

He dropped the fabric down with a small smile and climbed into his large bed.

Shigaraki propped himself up on his mass of pillows, waiting for when his butler would arrive to make sure he was settled.

Soon after, the door to his room creaked open and a tall, stoic man stepped inside.

A cat like grin stretched the young man's face.

"Kurogiri."

In response, Kurogiri bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Do you need anything before I retire, young master?" Kurogiri asked, in his usual even tone.

Shigaraki made a face, as though he was thinking it over.

"Yes, actually. Come here." Shigaraki said, waving his hand in a come hither motion.

Kurogiri came over, in his stiff yet graceful way. And stood next to his young masters bed, waiting for the young man's request.

Shigaraki pat the soft bed, indicating that he wanted the older man to sit with him.

Kurogiri did so, a flash of confusion fluttered through his green eyes, but it was gone as fast as Shigaraki saw it.

Deciding to ignore it, and get to what he wanted, Shigaraki grabbed Kurogiri's tie and pulled him forward.

Their lips met harshly, Shigaraki immediately trying to deepen it. But Kurogiri's lips stayed unresponsive.

Pulling away in a huff, Shigaraki pouted his chaped lips, gazing at Kurogiri's in a wanting way.

Shigaraki ran his thumb over the older man's pale bottom lip, reveling in the softness and smoothness of it compare to his own.

"Kiss me back, Kurogiri." The young man demanded, pulling at Kurogiri's tie once more.

Kurogiri looked as if he were about to protest, his mouth opening, but the words dying on his tongue as Shigaraki gave him a warning look.

He only nodded and let himself be pulled into another kiss, this time being much more responsive. Exploring his young masters mouth in return, and placing a large palm on Shigaraki's bony hip. Making the young man moan at the warm touch.

Shigaraki pulled away panting, his eyes shining at the kiss-bitten swell of the older man's lips.

"Undress me." The ghostly boy whispered.

Kurogiri blinked back to reality, his brows furrowed at the request.

"Master Tomura, I don't think-" Kurogiri was cut off at Shigaraki's irritated sigh.

The young man shucked off the gown himself, tossing it to the ground.

Kurogiri widened his eyes, month going dry.

The bra was obviously to big for his young master, bulging from lack of filling, and the panties was slightly to big around the hips, but the color was striking beautiful against his skin.

The stockings were the only things that fit well, snugly encasing the young man's long, skinny legs like a gift.

Shigaraki pulled Kurogiri over his body, letting the older man hover over him.

He grabbed Kurogiri's wrists, and insisted upon being touched. Kurogiri gave a shaky sigh as he trailed his hands over his young masters body. Trailing fingers over ghostly skin, the bumps of his ribs, and the boney jut of his hips.

He pressed a kiss to the ghostly man's jaw, and pushed his hand under the loose bra, trailing warm fingers over Shigaraki's soft chest and nipples.

Kurogiri's ministrations were having an obvious effect on Shigaraki, his pale skin flushed from his face down to his chest. And the delicate lace of the panties straining and wet against Shigaraki's arousal.

Shigaraki shimmied the panties off, sighing in relief when he freed his cock.

He wrapped a long leg around Kurogiri's hip, pulling the older man closer to his person.

Reaching under the pillows underneath himself, Shigaraki grasped a glass vial in his slender fingers and tossed the oil over to Kurogiri.

"Prepare me." He breathlessly demanded.

Kurogiri hesitated at his masters words once more, breaking Shigaraki's already thin patience.

“Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!” Shigaraki hissed, spreading his stocking clad legs wide for Kurogiri.

Kurogiri took a deep breath and nodded, popping the cork from the glass, and pouring the slick liquid over his long fingers.

He hooked his hand under Shigaraki's knee, lifting the slender leg over his broad shoulder. Spreading the younger man even wider.

Bringing his hand down, Kurogiri prodded at the tight furl of muscle, pushing one of his fingers to the knuckle.

The sudden intrusion had Shigaraki arching his back and gasping, he rocked his hips down, trying to make the older man add more and go faster.

"Nng, more, Kurogiri. Faster!" Shigaraki breathed.

Kurogiri did so, pushing in two more fingers. Curling the three digits and rubbing at his young masters soft, warm insides.

Shigaraki whined, hooking his free leg around the older man's hip and rocking his ass down, chasing the full feeling of Kurogiri's fingers.

After a few moments, Shigaraki decided that he wanted more. He reached down and roughly pulled Kurogiri's fingers out of himself.

He took his ass in the palms of his hands and spread himself wide open, putting his slick, pink hole on full view for Kurogiri.

"Fuck me. Now, Kurogiri." Shigaraki brattily demanded.

Not having the resolve to argue anymore, Kurogiri undid his belt buckle and pulled his pants down enough to free his throbbing, neglected cock.

Shigaraki's mouth watered when he caught sight of the thick length, impatiently waiting for it to fill up his belly with its girth.

Kurogiri pushed forward, ignoring any attempts that Shigaraki's body made to try and keep him out.

The sweet little squeaks and gasps that rolled from his young masters lips were so different from the venom that usually poured forth.

When he was fully buried to the root, he was hunched over Shigaraki, the younger man clutching his butlers broad shoulders for dear life. His pretty red eyes shimmering with unshed tears, clinging to his long lashes.

He was spread so wide and full, Shigaraki was certain that Kurogiri had ruined his poor little ass.

Despite that, he still rocked forward, ordering Kurogiri to start moving.

Readily obliging, Kurogiri thrust forward, setting a punishing rhythm that had the younger man shaking and choking on his moans and drool.

He made sure no spot in his young masters body went untouched by his cock, going as deep as he could and grinding against Shigaraki's insides.

That had the ghostly man seizing up, and come spurting from his untouched cock. Kurogiri couldn't help but stare as the pretty pink cocklet twitched, soaked with cum and pre.

Shigaraki start openly sobbing, Kurogiri's thrusts causing too much over stimulation. But Kurogiri wasn't done yet, he flipped Shigaraki over so his face was buried in the soft pillows, and his ass arched up in the air, easier for Kurogiri to pound into.

He whined and cried, bucking his hips to either get more pleasure or away from it, he really don't know what he wanted.

He don't have to endure for long, Kurogiri gave a few more deep thrusts, then buried himself - grinding the head of his cock against the young man's prostate - and emptied his load into Shigaraki's tummy.

The pale man froze up again, the feeling of the wet warmth filling him causing his little cock to twitch in an intense dry orgasm.

He went limp and passed out from the exertion.

Kurogiri panted above him, he pulled out gently and watched in stoic fascination as Shigaraki's fucked-red hole gaped and dribbled cum down his milky thighs.

He stood and fetched a warm cloth to clean Shigaraki up, he then took the lingerie off and folded it for cleaning later. He then dressed Shigaraki back in his sleeping gown, and tucked him into bed.

Kurogiri looked back at his young masters sleeping form before he took his leave.

He sighed to himself and shook his head.

What a mess he's landed himself into.

[canadian-buckbeaver]

Clueless Love - Bert Edition

(Trying to get in the habit of writing a bit everyday.  Enjoy my warm up writing that I did before I worked on commissions and patreon. Also blame @saiyurimai for helping to enable me)

Bert freed the monsters of UnderSwap, bringing them to the Surface to help them begin their lives anew.  Stretch and Blo, the wonderful skeleton sisters, live with him as they search for work that will help them become independent. Bert, knowing that he has caught feelings for the dazzling Stretch, tries to keep himself in check around her.  But she makes it hard some days.

This is one of those days.

Bert sighed as he fumbled with his keys, struggling slightly to open his front door.  It had been a very, very long day for him and he was looking forward to pulling a “Stretch” and catching a much-needed nap.  

It had been more than a few months since Bert had managed to free the monsters of UnderSwap, leading them to the Surface world.  For the most part, the majority of the monsters were settling in nicely with the other humans.  Alphonse, the Captain of the Royal Guard, was working with the army to help train soldiers of all shapes and sizes.  Thomas and Amanda were working towards opening a school for gifted monsters and slowly figuring out what their dynamic was.  Urnado was working with other scientists on various projects, helping to make the world a better place.  Everyone was slowly finding their niche in this new world.

Heck, even the skeleton sisters were adapting to this new world.

Finally fumbling the door to his little condo open, Bert stepped in to see (his little soul giving a little jump at the sight) the eldest skeleton sister stretched across the couch.  She looked rather comfortable and asleep.  Just like how he wanted to be.  Soon, he tried to soothe his tired bones, soon he too will be asleep.

But he knew that wasn’t the only thing that he wanted.

He hated working double shifts at the local hospital but the money was good… and the money was needed.  Stretch and Blo had only found part-time jobs, nothing that would be enough to live on their own, so Bert had invited them to live with him. They had opened their house to him in UnderSwap, it was only fair that he did the same.  Perhaps if he was being truly honest with himself, he would admit that that wasn’t the only reason why he had invited them to live with him.

Quietly he closed and locked the door behind him, shucking off his shoes at the door.

“did you have a good shift?”

Bert jumped at her voice, her warm tone sending shivers down his spine.  He looked back at the couch.  Stretch was peeking at him through half-lidded eyes, giving him a warm smile. “It was alright.  Very busy.  Cough and cold season seem to be hitting us early this year.” Bert told her, slipping off his jacket, exposing his scrubs under it.

Stretch chuckled before sitting up and walking over to him, taking the jacket from him and hanging it up into the nearby closet. Bert couldn’t help but notice how her ecto-body moved with every easy step. The sweater she wore did nothing to hide her curves. “well I’m glad that you made it home safe.” She said to him as Bert chided himself for being a pervert. Stretch was a friend, nothing more.

Not that he wouldn’t mind.  As odd as it was, he found himself rather attracted to the skeleton. She was funny, witty, kind, an exotic form of beautiful…. The list went on and on.  Anyone would be lucky to date her and she caught many an eye – human and monster alike.

Bert, on the other hand, was just plain old Bert.

“I am too,” Bert replied quickly, realizing that he hadn’t answered her.  He had to get his mind back on track. “Sorry Stretch.  I’m a little tired right now.  Not really all there.”

“I’m not surprised.  you helped so many people today and were on your feet for so long.  I don’t know how you do it.  come on with me and have your shower.  Blo was given a few new soap samples from that bath shop that she got an interview at.  I think that it would suit you.  I’ll even wash your back for you.”

With a nervous laugh, Bert allowed Stretch to lead him into his bathroom and start to prepare the shower for him.  “New soaps?  I’ll have to thank Blo.  Where is she by the way?”

Stretch didn’t even turn around.  “she’s out with Alphonse and Urando tonight.  they found an anime that they hadn’t seen before and wanted to have a marathon.” Stretch turned around to face him, a playful blush on her cheekbones.  “it’s just you and I tonight, big boy.” She purred.

“Really?  Well, that is unusual.  A good unusual mind you,” turning his back to Stretch he pulled the scrub top over his head, being careful not to touch it more than necessary.  It had been a messy and long shift.  “We should be naughty tonight.”

Thin, boney fingers gently pulled his undershirt from his bottoms. “oh really?  tell me, how exactly should we be naughty?”

“Well with Blo gone for the night we could order pizza to be delivered and have that for supper.  Thick crust, extra pepperoni and grease, the whole nine yards.  And I could use a beer or two.” Bert was thankful he had the next day off. Alcohol always made him tired.

The fingers pulled away.  “well, yes I suppose we could.”

“Certainty saves one or the both of us from cooking,” Bert chuckled.  “I’m going to jump into the shower real quick.  If you call the pizza place, I’ll be out before they arrive.”

“aw.  I was going to wash your back for you though.  anything that would help you to relax.” Bert’s horny imagination added a sweet lift to her voice, almost making it sound like Stretch was pouting.

Bert chuckled.  “I got my back, thanks. If you order the pizza that would be plenty of help.”

Stretch sighed and rolled her eye lights before leaving the bathroom, already tapping away on her phone.  Quickly Bert stripped and stepped into the shower, the warm water already making his dirty skin feel better, cleaner.  Stretch was such a big help sometimes.

* * * * *

Changing into some of his favourite relaxing clothes, Bert arrived just in time to watch Stretch take the pizza from the delivery guy. To his annoyance, he could see that the delivery guy was openly staring at Stretch in agape and wonder.  Yet, Bucky pushed those feelings aside.  Stretch did not belong to him.  “So… ugh… tell me you’re not stuck at home, eating a whole pizza by yourself this Friday night?” the boy asked, his voice cracking midway.  Bert would have cringed alone at the line.  The guy was probably not much older than high school age.

Stretch gave a giggle and shook her head.  “oh no.  luckily for me I have this handsome fella to help me out.” She seized Bert’s hand, pulling him in view of the delivery guy, and handing him the pizza. “hot and smoking, just the way you like it, dear.”  Her eyes slowly travelled up and down his body, taking him in.  “you’re wearing my favourite shirt!  I always love how the blue brought out your eyes.”

Bert chuckled.  He could almost hear the pizza guy’s porn dreams shatter into a million pieces.  “Thanks, Sugar.  You know how to spoil me.  Not to mention that you always had fabulous taste.” He kissed Stretch’s offered cheek, taking the pizza and carrying it to the couch.  Stretch had already set up the room. The coffee table had a beer and a bottle of honey, napkins, and a raised platter where they could put the pizza.  She had even lit a couple of candles, making the room smell nice.  Bert wondered if his shoes were smelling again.

“bye!  have a great night!” Stretch told the guy before closing and locking the door. Turning slowly, seductively, Stretch purred.  “are you ready to Netflix and chill, big boy?”

Bert was sure that his face lit up with a fierce blush before he laughed at Stretch’s fake attempt to seduce.  “Oh definitely.  Can hardly wait.  All night long, Honey-Buns. But remember that we aren’t allowed to watch Game of Thrones without Blo anymore so we’ll have to find a new show to watch for tonight. But come on over before the food gets cold.”

Stretch’s eye socket seemed to twitch as Bert picked up the remote and getting Netflix set up.  Bert suddenly had the feeling that he missed something.  “Did the delivery guy bother you?” he asked her carefully.

Stretch shook her head wildly.  “oh!  heavens no! he had just never seen a living skeleton so was just a little surprised is all.”

“Little surprised, my ass,” Bert muttered, turning the TV to some sort of comedy show, something that he knew that Stretch would like. He took a large bite of pizza, ignoring the scalding grease that ran down his throat.

“are you jealous?” Stretch asked him, slowly walking over to him, hips trading the fabric of her pants easily.

The words took a second or three to sink in.  Bert accidentally inhaled the pizza in his haste to disagree, coughing wildly to clear his windpipe.  “Stretch, why would I be jealous?  You’re my best friend.  I was just worried that he had said something that I didn’t catch or tried to touch you. Part of my job is to protect you after all.”

This was perhaps the wrong choice of words. Stretch came over and sat beside him, silently.  Bert was already beginning to regret his words, sensing that he had made her upset in some way. He was pleased when he saw her pick up a piece of pizza.  It was only after she covered it with honey that she began to eat.

At least she was eating.

Bert tried to ignore what she was doing to the poor pizza for a couple more slices.  It wasn’t any of his business and besides, Stretch had always had a bit of a sweet tooth. It was easier said than done, however, as the honey bottle would make all sort of noises.  The slow whine as Stretch squeezed it, the rattling as it reformed to its shape, the puttering as honey slowly oozed out of it.

“How can you eat that?” asked Bert, trying not to sound judgmental.

Stretch peeked over at him, still holding the bottle in one hand as she lined the remains of the crust with honey.  “hey now. some people deface pizza with ranch sauce, I prefer to perfect it by adding honey.”

“Now that I find difficult to believe,” Bert grumbled, shaking his head and finishing up his own slice.  “Pizza is already perfect.”

“hey, the honey really pulls the tomato sauce and the grease of the pepperoni together!” Stretch countered.  “you don’t know until you try it.”

With a chuckle, Bert shook his head, turning his attention back to the TV.  “I suppose you’re right,” he said, crossing his arms behind his head.  He was feeling a little better with food in his belly, less tired.

There was a slight pause before Stretch shuffled closer to him.  “do you want to try some?” the skeleton offered him, fluttering her eyes at him.

Bert knew that Stretch wouldn’t give up until he at least gave it an honest try.  “Sure,” He said, reaching out and pinching off a piece of the crust and popping it into his mouth.  Slowly he chewed, considering the taste.  It wouldn’t be his first choice but he had to admit that it seemed to work.  “Yeah, that’s pretty alright.  Though, as I said before, pizza is perfect on its own.”

Stretch said nothing, didn’t even move the honey bottle.  Bert, worried that he had somehow misunderstood what she meant, turned to face her, ready to apologize.

For a moment, all was still.  Suddenly, the skeleton was shaking so hard that her bones were rattling, clanking loudly.  Her eye lights went dim as they stared down at her knees, and still she said nothing.  She only rattled.

Truly concerned, Bert sat up, turning fully to face her.  Reaching out to her, he tried to calm her.  “Hey…” he got out.

Hey is all that he would get out.

Stretch’s eye lights blazed suddenly with bright light, flickering up to look up at him.  She sprang at him, catching him off guard, pushing him off the couch.  Bert yelped as he landed on the carpet, his spine not quite cushioning his fall.  Stretch seized his shoulders, pressing them to the carpet, pinning him, her eyes wild as she stared at him.  “WHAT WILL MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND ME?  DO I NEED TO DANCE NAKED IN FRONT OF YOU, OR ARE YOU TOO MUCH OF A BONEHEAD TO COMPREHEND THAT TOO?”

Bert’s mind was definitely swimming. “I… I… what?” he was trying to understand what he did wrong.

“I SENT BLO AND THE OTHERS OFF WITH THAT ANIME YOU RECOMMENDED THAT THEY TRY. I OFFERED TO SHOWER WITH YOU.  I FLIRTED.  I CLAIMED YOU AS MINE IN FRONT OF THAT DELIVERY DRIVER. I OFFERED YOU A TASTE OF HONEY AND PIZZA AND YET YOU TOOK THE CRUST.  I EVEN THREW OUT THAT TERM THAT YOUR HUMAN SHOWS ARE ALWAYS THROWING AROUND, ‘NETFLIX AND CHILL’ IN THE HOPES THAT YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND. AND YET YOU ACT ALL INNOCENT AND SWEET! I THOUGHT I KNEW HOW YOU FELT ABOUT ME. DO YOU NOT WANT ME?”

Her words were a rising tide.  Drowning him as he desperately swirled among their midst.  It wasn’t fair how now he could see all that she was trying to say to him.  “You…. You were flirting with me?”

Stretch gave a loud groan and she looked up to the heavens.  Probably seeking guidance from the heavens for his dumb ass.  “I have been for a while but thanks for noticing,” she finally said, her eye lights finally losing their crazed look to them.  She shook her head and sighed.  “Perhaps Blo was right.  I should have grown a spine and told you outright other than skirting the issue and hoping that you would understand.”

Bert couldn’t believe his luck.  Stretch… Stretch wanted him? The monster that could have anyone that they wanted and she had chosen him?

He couldn’t believe his luck.

“Better late than never, I suppose,” Bert said, his fingers slowly tracing her thighs, feeling her curves.  The soft, warm swell of her ecto-body, the sparking of magic underneath his fingertips.  He gripped her pelvis firmly, and ground up against her, rocking against her warmth, letting her feel what she did to him.  “But I do believe that it is my turn to claim you as my own.”

* * * * *

Bert slept soundly, snoring gently, one hand on his forehead, the other wrapped loosely around her ribs. Stretch rested her head on his chest, savouring the moment.  She could hear his heart thundering in his chest, under her skull.  She could smell his unique musk mingling with own, taste his salty sweat on her tongue.  Murmuring softly, she squeezed her thighs together, still feeling his mess between her legs.  She would be sore in the morning she knew, and she would have to explain a few of the bite marks that Bert had left on her neck.

But yet, she couldn’t stop the silly smile on her teeth. That had been worth everything.  The little outburst, all the work, all those little frustrations, everything.  She couldn’t wait to do it again.

At last, her senses still drunk off of him but finally closing her eyes, she settled her skull on his chest, dozing off.  

That night there were no nightmares.

Instead, Stretch dreamed of a human woman, one with long brown hair and brilliant blue eyes.  As the human turned to look back at them, the human image flashed quickly, changing.  In a heartbeat, Bert being shown in her place before the vision of the girl returned. Stretch smiled, instantly understanding her dream.  Gently she took the hand of the woman.  “We always find our way back together, don’t we, my dear?” she asked Bucky. 

[gaypasta]

do you want fries with that?

CHAPTER 12

Read on Ao3 Chapter Directory

Stan can’t really say he saw much of Richie the week following their… well, whatever it was. Richie hadn’t mentioned it afterwards, not even in passing, so Stan was left trying to grapple at all the words in his mind to find one that fit his and Richie’s rather odd predicament. See, they had sex - Stan was aware of that much and he couldn’t justify dumbing himself down to call it anything but. The only issue is, that sex is a heavy word, a word which is sexual in nature - obviously - the word sexual literally stems from sex. And that right there is the big, glaring issue. In big glaring, neon letters. They had sex but it wasn’t sexual . It was just messing around. A bit of fun, they had both agreed.

Can sex be non-sexual? Does that even make sense? Well, Stan supposes that nothing really had to be anything. Kissing under an alter is technically the same action as kissing Richie with a belly full of booze - but the context changes its meaning so drastically that Stan’s head spins at the notion that they may even be related at all. So sex - with Richie - his best friend - Richie - was hardly comparable to the romantic throws of passion he had witnessed painted across the big screen of the Aladdin on the occasions that they had managed to sneak into an R-rated movie.

Richie’s lips were sucked into his teeth, barely letting the sharp pants that were being punched out his lungs. His eyes screwed tight and fingers wrapped almost painfully in Stan’s curls - cupping the back of Stan’s head to bring him closer. Stan tried to hold back a groan as Richie panted openly into his mouth - tongue licking at Stan’s lips. Stan entertained the kiss, more hot panting and wanton licking than anything else - but it made Stan’s stomach ache for more. Stan increased the pace of his thrusts, letting a keening groan escape into Richie’s mouth, feeling the way Richie tightened around him. Richie let out a broken curse, voice strained and arched his back into Stan, fucking back onto him with earnest.

Stan thought carefully about the previous week - trying his best to compare the moans and violent reactions of Richie - laid sprawled out on the bed, writhing with Stan’s dick up his ass - with the gentle, almost rose-tinted feminine breaths of passion from one of Bill’s stupid romance movies. Stan found himself grimacing at the thought. They were always fucking terrible. Terrible, but granted Stan with a vague understanding that what he and Richie did was different,  it wasn’t sexual or romantic at all. It was just as they had said, fun.

Stan forcibly shook the train of thought from his head as he focused on work. He overcomplicates things, or so his friends say.

The Diner was no busier than usual, having two or three orders coming through every couple of minutes. The casual steadiness was nice, giving him and his friends enough to keep them busy - or in Richie’s case - out of trouble, without overwhelming them. Beverly and Ben were kept just busy enough to keep them out the front, which Stan is sure that Ben is secretly glad of, getting a chance to talk to Beverly without Beverly skirting out to talk to Bill or Mike - not for any particular reason other than Beverly likes talking to everyone. Although Eddie usually ushers her away when she starts to describe the customers whose lips were wrapped around the forks he was cleaning.

Stan was currently busying himself by writing next week’s rota. Which thankfully, was much simplier now that the kid with the piercings had ‘quit’, since the only part-timers who were employed were all currently working. Although, it did mean that each of them had to pick up an extra night shift a week in his place which admittedly, meant their nightly trips to the Marsh were always on member down, but they managed to adjust alright.

He popped his head out through the red swing-door to catch Beverly, who was organising some notes in the cash register. She was watching Ben with a sort of dopey expression, as he wiped down a fairly clean-looking table near the door. Stan felt as though he was somewhat intruding, as he usually does when he interrupts a conversation - verbal or not. So he coughed, and Beverly turned her smile to his direction.

“Hey, I was meant to catch you earlier - but you were busy talking to Bill.” She said, folding over a wad of twenties and slipping them into the drawer.

“Oh?”

“We’re out of band-aids.” She had this sort of knowing smile tugging at her lips and with great reluctance, Stan sighed.

“Richie tried juggling the vegetable knives again?” Beverly responded with a half laugh and a roll of the eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how he gets himself dressed in the morning, honestly.”

Richie - who had a strange tendency to appear whenever he’s being spoken about -  walked out through the swing door, jostling Stan, who was half in the door, in the process, carrying a plate of pancakes and setting it down in front of a rather unimpressed looking trucker, who barely waited until the plate was set down before stabbing his fork into the food. Stan glanced down at the half a dozen plasters stuck around Richie’s fingertips and he couldn’t help but follow Richie’s hands down to his thighs and - oh my God - Richie was wearing his shorts inside out.

Beverly must have noticed it too and grabbed Stan’s arm and squeezed - don’t say anything - and he didn’t, just held the door open for Richie as he bowed and made his exit at the two. “I think I spoke too soon. How long do you think it’ll be before he spills coffee on his legs?”

Beverly dropped her hand and snorted, shaking her head, “It’s like fifty degrees in here how is he not freezing?”

Stan handed over the clipboard he was holding to Beverly, who began to fill her name into some of the blank spaces of the table. “He’s a nuclear reactor - he never gets cold, he sleeps without a shirt on some nights with the window open. In the Winter. I believe he has advanced brain-rot.”

Beverly paused for a split second, “You have a lot of sleepovers?”

Stan blinked, oh - probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. Not that it’s a big deal, friends have sleepovers all the time - it’s not like he has anything to hide. Well, within reason. “We used to have sleepovers all the time - before we started working here - now between work, school and the marsh I think if I had to look at any of you anymore I would blow my brains out.”

“Hey!” She said it lightly, clearly finding it more amusing than rude.

“We don’t have any classes together. You, Ben and Mike are exempt from my previous statement.”

“Not true, we have Gym together.”

Stan rolled his eyes as he took the clipboard she presented back to him, “Yes, we converse so much in Gym, between stopping Richie from pulling Bill’s shorts down, stopping Bill trying to break a Tennis racquet over Richie’s head and shoving Eddie’s aspirator in his mouth every two minutes, I always have plenty of time to stop you for a leisurely chat over the fence.”

She laughed and turned back to the cash drawer, eyes falling straight back to Ben, who was now fiddling about with the jukebox. Stan was tempted to tell him that no, they haven’t got any New Kid on the Block added yet, Ben, but there’s only so many times a man can have that conversation before he loses his mind, so he decides against it and moves back into the kitchen - setting the clipboard on a space beside Bill, who was staring intently at a frying egg.

“Stare at that egg any longer Big Bill and you’ll fertilize it!” Richie barks out, appearing from nowhere as he usually does and poking Bill in the ribs, earning himself a smack in the shoulder from Bill’s spatula.

“Don’t puh-poke me - you know it hu-hurts!” Bill tried to look upset, but Bill was terrible at controlling his face and his mouth twitched a little as he battled a smile.

“It only hurts cuz you’re so skinny.” Richie rubbed his shoulder dramatically.

“No! Your fingers are just b-b-boney.”

“You’re both technically right.” Stan pointed out. Richie scoffed and knocked Bill’s hat to the floor as he moved past Stan, shouldering him as he went past. Stan pulled a face and rubbed his shoulders - even his shoulders were boney.

Bill picked up his hat and set his attention to the clipboard, sending the egg what could only be construed as threatening glances every so often as he all but carved his name into the sheet in his unnecessarily heavy chicken scratch. “Do you th-think I’m too skinny, M-Mike?”

Mike made a nuh-uh type of low noise from the fryers, “You’re a stud, man.”

Bill glowed at the praise, everyone, including Bill himself ignoring the obvious glaring lie. Somewhere from the direction of the fridge Stan heard Richie sing the opening to Scat Man, replacing Scat with Stud. No one made any notice to him, except a small groan from Eddie when Richie starting scatting.

Bill waved the clipboard at Stan, who took it from him and managed to catch a glimpse at the griddle. “You’re burning your egg there, stud.” Bill’s face dropped into a scowl as he spun round and started scraping the blackening egg off of the surface, swearing at it in anger. Stan doesn’t understand how, but anything Bill keeps his eye off seemingly burns in seconds. At first they blamed Richie, thinking he would turn the temperature up when Bill’s back was turned - turns out Bill just has bad luck. This usually meant Bill would just stand and glower at whatever he was frying, tongue stuck up out of his lip in concentration. Richie would say if Bill concentrated that much in Math then maybe he wouldn’t be failing, Bill usually lobbed his spatula at him, wordlessly pulling another from the large pocket of his apron.

Stan moved away, purposely avoiding making eye contact with the black char left on the griddle - it usually burned into his skull until he would go over with a wire scouring pad and scrub it clean - burning his fingers in the process. Whenever Bill sees him moving over to his station after that particular incident, Bill moves his body in front of the griddle, an almost guilty smile on his face, like a child hiding Mommy’s favourite mug behind his back after seeing how far he could drop it before it broke.

He asked Eddie if he wanted to work any nights next week - Eddie was a fifty fifty shot - depending on how he felt. See, there was no cook come evening time, so usually it was just coffee - maybe the odd sweet treat from the display cabinet but there was usually little to do besides cleaning. The prospect didn’t bother Eddie - except the risk of having to touch the dirty coins from a dirty trucker’s hands. He would rant about how many particles of excrement have been discovered to live on coins, and how 99% of one dollar bills have traces of cocaine on them - that means it’s been up someone’s nose guys.

This week, Eddie barely let Stan finish his question before deadlining a hard no. Stan side-stepped a small puddle of bubbles that he has begun to just expect whenever Richie slinks his way over to Eddie, and made his way to the fridge - where he could hear Richie still scatting. Stan groaned into himself, preparing his mind for Richie. He tapped the handle of the fridge six times before opening it, hardly recognising that he had done it.

The cool air of the fridge blushed his cheeks almost immediately, and there Richie was stood, balancing several stacked tins of buttermilk on his finger, wobbling around trying to balance the teetering tower, wearing inside out black basketball shorts and a grey t-shirt which looked a size too small for him, clinging onto his shoulders. Stan assumes he stole it from Bill, who seems to come in complaining every other week about losing the shirts he wears to work.

Stan closed the door behind him, to keep the fridge at 35 degrees, as per regulation. He taps the handle six times after he closes it. He opens his mouth but before he even begins to form a sentence, Richie raises his free hand to silence him, swaying in the opposite direction to counteract the motions of the tins.

“Staniel, I am extremely busy - this better be important.”

“Don’t call me that - I’m completing next week’s rota, what evenings do you want me to put you down for?”

“I thought I said it better be important, and this ” Richie waggled a finger at him, “doesn’t fit the bill.”

“I can tell you what does fit the Bill though,” Stan taps the pen six times against the paper as Richie accidentally kicks a box, edging it every so slightly into an angled position. Stan found it difficult to tear his eyes away from it.

“Pray tell.”

“That shirt you’re wearing.”

Richie swears as he overbalances himself too much, and the tins clatter to the floor. “Aw fuck, almost beat my record.” Richie gives Stan a look that Stan knows is a prompt for Stan to ask him how long his stupid record is. He doesn’t. Richie makes a face to himself and picks up the tins, one is dinted, Stan notes. “Well, one of Georgie’s shirts could fit Bill so that doesn’t really add a notch to your belt.”

That’s a fair point. Bill is an estimate of three inches wide and thirty-seven feet tall, well - five foot eight - but in the middle of a growth spurt, which if the constant complaining about the pains in legs are to go by, is set to send him shooting.

“What shifts, Richie?”

“Well, tell me what’s left and we can work from there, pardner.”

Stan grimaced at the voice - and also at all the tins not being rotated so the front text and the dusty-coloured orange label sits front.

Monday:   Bev (5pm - close) Tuesday: b i l l (5pm - c l o s e ) Wednesday: b i l l (5p m - cl o se  ) Thursday: Bev  (5pm - close) Friday: Saturday: Ben (12pm-close) | Stanley (6.30-3.30) | Bill (7-4) | Mike (8-5) | Eddie (9-5) | Beverly ( 9-5 please) | Richie ( 9-5) | Sunday: Bev  (12pm - close) | Stanley (6.30-3.30) | Bill (7-4) | Mike (8-5) | Eddie (9-5) | Ben (9-5)  | Richie (9-5) |

Stan reads Richie the rota and Richie contemplates it for a moment before fixing his glasses and taking the clipboard and pen from Stan’s hands. “How come Beverly always gets first dibs, is she giving her supervisor … sexual favours?” He winked suggestively at Stan and wiggled his hips a little. Previously, Stan would have thought nothing of it, but the sight makes Stan think back to Richie’s hips wiggling to adjust to Stan being full flush inside him made his mouth turn to cotton.

“Shut up, Richie.”

Richie quickly scrawled his name down and pressed the back of the clipboard into Stan’s chest, pushing until he was walking Stan into the door of the fridge. Stan’s eye caught the smudge of ink on the fleshy part of Richie’s hand - he was left handed so Richie usually had ink markings there during class, but he usually washed them off when he was at the bathroom. The black smudge stayed fixated on his mind even as Richie opened the door behind him, almost sending Stan sprawling to the floor. He managed to regain his balance, as Richie cackled at him.

He didn’t tap the door handle.

Stan knew this wasn’t significant. A door handle didn’t need to be tapped six times before it was opened and closed, it’s redundant and time consuming and sure, before he got his meds he would have cried for hours into his Mother’s shoulder about it, convinced something terrible was going to happen. He’s better now, he knows better. So that leads Stan to ponder, why was he pushing Richie back into the freezer and furiously tapping on the door.

Six times for Richie opening it.

Six times for Stan closing it.

Six times to open it again.

Simple.

Stan felt ridiculous doing it, a strange heaviness in his belly of embarrassment - he wasn’t quite sure what was causing this particular tick to come back and to be honest, it was worrying. He made a note to call his Doctor on Monday.

“Is that morse code? Who are you signaling, Stanny-boy.”

Fuck, he was almost done, too. With Richie’s interruption he has to start again, “Richie, shut up for a minute - just don’t talk or say anything.” He continued tapping, and Richie - who had his hand raised to his brow in a salute - stayed dutifully silent until the tapping ceased and Stan sighed in relief as he opened the door.

Stan waited for Richie to walk out after him and tapped six more times before closing it. He moved the clipboard back into the shelf near Eddie - top shelf of all the clean plates and such was reserved for the paperwork and rotas. Not that Eddie knew - he couldn’t reach it.

Stan went to move to go over to the Kitchen area, to make his way out the front and make sure everything was running smoothly but came face-to-face with Richie, who seemed to be looking at him rather strangely.

“What are you-”

“Why are you acting so weird?”

Stan scratched at his wrist, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He said, moving around Richie and through the kitchen, barely getting to the red swing-door before Richie was putting on the bow of his apron. “Get off, you’ll mess up the knot.” He tried to slap Richie’s hands away - hands which have a smear of ink on the flesh.

“Why were you tapping the door like that? Were you having a minor epileptic fit or something?”

“Richie.” Stan warned, trying to pry Richie off of him. Richie lowered his grip on his apron, but Stan didn’t move away, rather he turned around to face the boy in question, hands folded behind his back, gently scratching at his wrist.

“I’m just wondering why the stick up your butt is deeper than usual today, that’s all.” He had the audacity to twist his voice into one of genuine concern. Stan itched his wrist quicker, he needed to move his fingers. Then, suddenly, without reason and without prompt, the world got very overwhelming all of a sudden.

Richie absentmindedly tousled his hair, as he does sometimes. Only, Stan could feel the knots, he could see Richie’s fingers catching them and tugging a little. Stan could feel Richie’s straw-like hair all over him, again. He could smell the faint smell of cigarettes masked with Febreze overpowering his nose and making him choke. The sizzling of the boiling oil to the right of Stan bled into his ears and he tugged on his earlobe to dislodge the sound from his head.

Stan’s head was blistering, why was everything so much all of a sudden.

“Earth to Stanley? Hellloooooo? Oh my gawd - we’ve lost him, Bill!” Richie’s accent smoothed over his head like acid, Stan slapped Richie’s smudged hand out of his face and tried to breathe around Richie’s smell. “Geez Louise, what the hell is wrong with you, you look like you’re gonna spew.”

“Richie. Leave me alone.” Stan choked out, Richie must have taken what Stan was saying somewhat seriously, because he stepped back a little out of Stan’s personal space but didn’t leave. Richie wasn’t wrong, Stan’s stomach was twisting and knotting every time Stan noticed something that made his skin itch. One of Bill’s shoelaces is untied, the clock is hanging off-centre on the wall, Mike had a black mark on the back of his otherwise white t-shirt, Richie was wearing mismatched black socks - his right one had a ribbed lip, the left one was more of a blue-black than the inky black of the other. The ink stain on Richie’s hand, the box in the fridge being left lopsided, jutting out over the perfect squares of tile, the buttermilk tins not being lined up. Every single thing Stan seemed to look at made him want to peel his skin off. “Were you too busy jackin’ it to take your meds this morning?” Richie asked, before slapping himself on the forehead in a mock- duh moment, “I knew I shouldn’t have watched those Indiana Jones movies with you last week, you always get so heated seeing Indy - ugh but who can blame you, those biceps just call out to you.”

“I don’t have a crush on Harrison Ford.” Or any guy for that matter. He bit his lip and clawed a little at his sleeve.

“Oh! Is it me then? Because I definitely remember you getting pret-ty heated last weekend about someone .”

Bill’s voice stuttered for a second - Stan hadn’t even noticed he was listening, but thank God, Bill was going to tell Richie to shut his mouth before Stan stuffs it with breadrolls, “No one wuh-wuh-wuh-wants you to stick their-their dick in you, Rich, I swuh-swear.”

Not quite the diversion that Stan was hoping for but thanks for the help, Bill. Richie eyed Stan up like a dog eyeing up a steak, “Oh no, you haven’t heard?” Richie sing-songed, it pinched Stan’s ears. “Our Stan is a pitcher! See, Bill, I even put it in baseball lingo for you - anything to help the cogs grind in that empty head of yours. Yes, our little, innocent Stan, loves nothing more than to go for a quick cave exploration under the sheets.”

Stan felt his resolve snap, like Bill accidentally snapping his ‘shatterproof’ ruler in half to test its claims, “Just because you take it up the ass, Richie, doesn’t mean we want to hear about that shit all the time. I know you think it’s funny, or cute or whatever but it’s not. It’s gross, and I don’t want people in the Synagogue talking about me even more when they overhear you saying shit like that - if they find out I’m friends with a queer I’ll be fucking killed, are you really that self-centered that you can’t get that?” The words seethed out of Stan before he even had a chance to stop them. As soon as they were out of his mouth he regretted them, but he stitched his lips shut and stood his ground.

Richie’s face took the shape of an injured puppy before he let out a laugh which sounded so forced Stan was surprised he didn’t choke on it. “Better than convincing myself I’m not a queer with my dick in a guy’s throat, like some people.” Richie didn’t say it in an accusatory way, but Stan knew what Richie was getting at, he just said it in such a way that Stan didn’t receive any questioning glances.

Stan opened his mouth to reply before he felt Ben’s firm grip on his shoulder, he noticed one on Richie as well. “I th-think we should ta-take a breather.” Stan didn’t need to be told twice before he shook Bill’s hand off his shoulder took himself to the smoking area. It was freezing and he didn’t have a coat but he didn’t care, he came out half out of spite because he knew Richie would be dying for a cigarette, and half because being outside usually helps to calm him down.

Stan tapped a fast tune into the inside of his wrist, stinging the slightly tender flesh that he had been scratching at. The cigarettes littered around him were burning into his flesh, so Stan looked away.

Breathe.

Stan forced his staggered breath through the movements he had coaxed Eddie with so many times before, breathing deep and slow, trying to calm the sharp staggered breaths that had his lungs burning with the sharpness of the cold air.

He was angry. He directed that anger at Richie - because it was Richie who had made him mad, surely. Richie had absolutely no right to say shit like that to him. Richie knew what they were doing, he had initiated it that night, with cigarette smoke in his lungs and six shots in his belly - so why was Richie suddenly being all bitchy about it? Stan couldn’t understand, they were having fun, they were messing around and spending time together in such a distinct way. Richie and Stan’s connection was special, Stan knew that much, I mean - he wouldn’t dream of making out with Eddie on top of his perfectly made baby blue bed sheets, or bucking up against Bill and breathing breathy groans into his mouth, or laughing as Beverly accidentally brains herself on Stan’s headboard as he bottoms out. Stan’s face involuntarily twitches - thinking about Beverly like that made his stomach twist in discomfort.

He found himself replaying that thought, he has too much respect for Beverly to think about her like that, imagining her sprawled out, so dirty and open like Richie had been felt wrong. Stan feels dirty. Rightly so - Beverly is one of his best friends and picturing her in such a position feels inherently misogynistic in a way. He isn’t sure why.

He finds himself quickly shaking the thoughts from his head, fingers dancing up and down his arms as he folds into himself to try and warm himself up from the cold. He loved Richie, of course he loved Richie, Richie was his best friend and that was a title that as juvenile as it may seem, Stan takes seriously. He and Richie have a connection, a special one that makes Stan’s stomach twist and turn whenever he thinks too much about it - their bond is so special, so definitively them that Stan finds a little pride in the way he and Richie spend their evenings together, whispering moans into each other and grinding against each other with laughter and moans on their lips, the best way to practice for whatever girl Stan may find himself with, and for whatever girl or boy Richie finds himself with too.

The thought makes his gut lurch so violently he almost falls off the plastic chair.

Richie was using him as a trial run before he falls into bed with someone else. Stan, of course, was doing this as well - but the thought barely ghosted his mind as the turning of his stomach moved up to his chest. Richie was essentially using him. Their heavy make-out sessions, with Stan whispering for Richie to stop making stupid fucking jokes were under the pretense that it was all, ultimately, for someone else. Someone that Richie would kiss with the ghost of all those nights with Stan and the person would be none the wiser. The thought made Stan feel ill, he felt his chest ache.

They would stop, then. If Richie finds someone they would have to stop. Stan doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t want to stop. He likes what he and Richie had, he likes the secret whispers and quiet breathy moans that they braid together under the covers of Richie’s bed. He likes it, he loves it. Of course he likes it, he’s relieving sexual tension and he’s doing it with his best friend. There’s nothing in that which Stan doesn’t like. Richie’s dick is maybe, inconvenient, Stan thinks, nodding to himself. It would be better if Richie was a girl.

He finds his stomach growing sicker and sicker by the minute.

No, he’s been through this already. Richie being a boy means there’s no risk for pregnancy, there’s no risk for … feelings getting involved - it’s actually better that Richie is a boy - since Richie knows how to kiss and pull on his Adam’s apple perfectly, knows how to grind with just enough pressure to hurt a little bit, knows how to twist his wrist at the right part under his head that makes Stan grapple for purchase on the sheets. Stan breathes through the blood pumping through him. Which definitely is not pumping down south at the pictures of Richie mouthing on his cock flood his vision.

Then it’s not his cock. Richie is grappling a faceless body, moaning and writing under a stranger, crying out in desperate breaths into someone else’s mouth. Punching moans out like he’s getting paid for it, fists curling in his hair, in his sheets, around the stranger’s shoulders. Stan feels his face flush with anger. Stan wants to scrub at his skin, he feels dirty, he feels used. Stan doesn’t spend nights tangling his legs with Richie, grinding until he feels tears prick his eyes, just to be thrown to the side when Richie finds some random John to keep his bed warm.

Stan doesn’t dwell on the thought that pushes through his head that maybe he only wants Richie to himself. He wants them to keep their nights of fun exclusive to each other forever. The thought  is too much for Stanley to wrap his head around, so he promptly ignores it and imagines it never crossed his mind at all.

[unlikelyanthology-blog]

Pikes Tree

“The forest was our favorite place to go as kids, we would go at any hour of the day. It was our spot to wander, run and rant. We ripped off so many branches from the old trees in the forest. Jason and I did some crazy things, if we had told anyone the wild things we did, no one would believe the shy kid I was known as, could do that.” I told the crowd.

There were a lot of people here, all gathered here for Jason. I was surprised so many people showed up to his funeral. Jason was popular in high school for sure, but he was an ass. He was an ass to pretty much everyone except for me, his mom and Joe, his older brother. Jason had lots of problems growing up, his mom was cheated on by her boyfriend at the time. Jason and Joe’s dad was in and out of their lives a lot. Jason always blamed his dad and his mom’s ex-boyfriend for being the way he is, he said he was angry and he couldn’t help it. He could help it, he chose not to, he was just like them.

When I saw Tina in one of the church benches, I was incredibly surprised. Tina was a major subject of the destructive path Jason went on during high school, he played her more often than he played his guitar. Tina never gave up on him though, she was there on his drunkest nights, his most sober days and his biggest outbursts. Tina was literally the light to all his darkness, but he loved to hide in the darkness. To this day, I can see the hurt in her eyes from Jason. When I saw her walk up to the black, shiny coffin, I held my breath. I really believed she might beat his dead body, instead she stroked his lifeless, pale boney face and whispered in his ear. She could have whispered I hate you, but she probably reminded him that she loves him. Tina was special in that sense, never gave up anyone. I viewed it as sad in a way though, could she not just get over it at all? I mean it has been almost fifteen years ago, so much has happened in both of their lives.

When Jason and I were younger, we would go to the forest at the edge of our town, we would talk about everything and anything. One of the most vivid memories I have in that forest was one Jason wanted to pretend we were animal hunters. We spent the whole damn day and night out in that forest.

“Let’s do something wild and crazy, Peter, don’t be a baby,” said Jason while shoving my shoulder. The shove made me lose balance a bit.

I wanted to do something wild and crazy but our last adventure into the woods left me with a large cut on my forearm and Jason with a dislocated elbow. He never kept it safe, he tried to get as much thrill out of being in this forest as he could. One time he told me that he loved coming here because it felt like home to him. He didn’t feel like he was at home in his house, he was always afraid and worried when he was there. The forest allowed him to be free and feel safe.

“Like what Jason? My mom will be so mad at me if I come home with any more cuts or bruises,” I questioned him, see no matter what crazy thing he wanted to do, I wanted to do it too.

“Well, we could pretend we are flying a plane, and build something so big and then take off from Pikes tree, that would be- “

“So dangerous! We are not doing that Jason, I swear you’ve gone mad,” I laughed at him slightly, he couldn’t be serious.

“Peet, PLEASE! I really want to build something big, a plane would be sick!” He said.

I pondered for a moment and told him no. I could see he was getting frustrated with me. I never said no the crazy things he wanted to do, but this one, was simply too far.

He walked away from our spot, he was headed right to Pikes tree. Jason was a hot head and I know that, I followed him.

“Jay, I didn’t say we can’t build a plane, we just can’t fly it off Pikes tree. Come on man, come back.” I got nothing from him, not a sound, not a look back, nothing.

Something more was going on and he didn’t want to tell me what it was. I knew I shouldn’t push, but he was my best friend, since birth. I’ve been there with him through everything when we were kids, I mean we are kids but we’re twelve now, so we are basically teenagers.

“You don’t get it Peet, you never have,” whispered Jason. I think he thought I wouldn’t be able to hear him, but I could.

“Hey, what do you mean- wait up Jay. Hey, what’s going on? You can be honest with me,” I told him, tugging on the back of his shirt.

Jason pulled away from my reach, “My mom, she’s a mess. My dad keeps coming and going and Joe, I’m worried about him. He’s got this girl-friend, but I know he doesn’t like girls. I just don’t understand why people can’t be honest with themselves or others,” I could hear his voice crack, his blue eyes filled with tears.

“Jason, I, I don’t know what to tell you. You can come over to my house and- “

“You say that every time, it helps for the moment, but not overall. I still have to go back to that stupid house,” He said, as he started climbing Pikes tree.

I followed him all the way to the top of the tree. We sat on a large branch and he confessed everything that he was holding in. His dad was getting drunk when he was home and sometimes he would hit Jason’s mom. Joe was gay and didn’t know how to tell anyone, so he told Jason and it made him stressed keeping this big secret. Jason’s dad was conservative and was worried that his dad would find out about Joe. Everything just sucked in his life, and there was nothing I could do.

“Peter? Hello, Peter?” Joe shook my arm, causing me to come back into reality. I looked up at him, he was finally openly gay with his family.

His boy-friend, Shawn, was one of the nicest guys out there. Him and Joe were perfect together, so perfect that they planned to get married in the coming July. I don't think that is happening anymore, Joe is broken about Jason's death and I don't think he's ready for such a big milestone in his life to be without his brother by his side.

"Sorry, I just, you know..." I tell him with a tight-lipped smile. He nods his head, he understands.

I take one last look at Jason's lifeless body in the dark casket. His hand is cold as I touch it, fingers paler than normal. The bones of his body are protruding in ways they didn't before, my best friend, lifeless before me. Every time I think of Jason, I don't want to think of him in this way, I want to remember the good times we had as kids, teenagers and now young adults.

I make my way out of the funeral home, dodging questions from Jason's mom and my mom, I know they're asking where I'm going, I want to yell the forest, but they will be confused if I do, so I say nothing and just rush past them.

The last place Jason went was the forest, he wanted to go home. I had to understand why this happened, why he did this, it made no sense to me or anyone else around us. I climbed up Pikes tree, to the branch we sat down that one day when we were kids. I yelled, screamed at the top of my lungs. My echo lasted for so long, I thought someone else was yelling back at me.

I looked out around the forest, out into the small city below it. Such a peaceful place, became a place that scared me for the first two weeks after Jason's death. I am not scared anymore, I know he's okay, where ever he is. I feel him beside me as I climb back down the tree. It is peaceful once again.