#oh bugs GLORIOUS bugs

[angrybatgaming]

Bully...a game I haven't played in FOREVER. It was on sale for $8, so I got it.

I remember when my mom first got it for me back in middle/high school, in hopes of me at least figuring why I got bullied. :D Never did! Because the protagonist never picks on people for liking animals or for being a bit sensitive. At least from what I can remember.

What I DEFINITELY REMEMBER is the bugs. Like getting stuck in a Christmas tree afyer helping a homeless Santa gain more kids than the actual paid Santas. Or the time I tried to give a prep girl flowers and got stuck in the gifting pose for an awkward 30 minutes before she slapped me with the flowers I offered. I also remember one girl who looked A LOT LIKE ME AND JUST FEELING WEIRD ABOUT SOME OF THE ACCURACIES ABOUT THIS CHARACTER. Ah, memories. Never finished the game. I'll make more of an effort this time.

I don't look forward to the school-related minigames other than the photography ones. If those are even included in this.

[acourtofquestions]

Real life fangirl pet peeve: Wishing I was Aelin so I could have a literal wall of fire to avoid ever getting bug bites… then REALLY wishing I was Aelin so I could have my boyfriend heal said pre-existing bites…

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

VISCERAL vs INTERESTING. compelling vs complex.

did you know. that your fav character. can make your brain go !!!! without being interesting?

Or complex? Most of the most iconic characters ARN'T either of those things?? And that's what makes them fun???

im dying. the "boring" goody goody characters are often the complex ones. the "deep" morally ambiguous or evil characters are almost always shallower than a puddle on a well maintain street

selfishness and self destructive acts are SIMPLE. They are EASY to feel about. Characters who care a lot about mainly one thing focused around themselves are a DIRECT LINE TO FEELINGS. They want or feel a thing strongly, act on it, very little to no internal struggle about that (until maybe suddenly there is???) and THIS makes them Visceral. This makes them Compelling

being selfless and taking others in consideration? Is hard

it's complicated- there's a lot of moving parts and no real end goal to aim for. Being a good person? Complicated

Often interesting but, it needs thought. It's not easy. It's more of an ask to care about goodness without knowing a lot about the person trying to do it, because either in-universe or in-meta, they're gonna fail at it at some point, and-

a character caring about others means that even when you're watching them, it's not fully THEIR story you're being asked to focus on

so it's harder to focus on them. It's harder to know who they are

it's harder to get someone to feel compelled by them

DON'T JUST TRY TO WRITE COMPLEX CHARACTERS! And give that ones that ARE complicated something SHALLOW about them!!

and pleasssse stop and ask yourself- do I like this character bc there is so many different contradicting things going on here? So much much you have to squint to see? Or is it because everything about them is sharp and clear, and cuts through my heart like a knife? Do I like that they are single sided as a piece of paper and with plenty of blank space left to fill in?

there's a difference. the word "complex" is NOT a synonym for "well written" or "better"

the characters who feel boring are often the ones with most going on inside. That's. What makes connecting to them. Harder

tldr: depth can put distance between an audience and a character. use it CAREFULLY

[analisegrey]

Mr. Ikithon, is this you?

[shomixremix]

HERDING THE CATTLE ♥︎

i saw something about this prompt on here like two years ago and it's been stuck in my head ever since ♡︎

tags: Arataki Itto, afab! reader, cow hybrid! reader, smut, fluff, marking, mating, rough sex, petnames, cowgirl, breeding, creampie

-> you are a small cow hybrid auctioned off to a slaughterhouse since you couldn't produce enough milk and were never calm. the arataki gang saved you, and your new master - the one and oni Arataki Itto - knows just how to keep you in check.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

"Ahh!! Itto! Itto-ooh! Mh! I-Itto!"

You whined as the Oni bounced you on his cock like you were weightless, watching in amusement as you cried in overstimulation. What was this, your ninth, tenth time cumming? You lost count. Itto never let you rest, not even for a second, bouncing you on his lap through every orgasm.

"Aww, you'r' so cute, love bug... Such a cute little cow, ain't ya'? Don't cry now, sweets, this is what ya' wanted, yeah? Only way I can tire you out, baby~"

Your master cooed, teasing you about being so restless. Oh, how you wished you could take everything back! No, you weren't bursting with energy like you said earlier, no, you couldn't go on forever - your legs were practically jelly at this point, your limp body completely at mercy to Itto.

He used you like a cocksleeve, dragged on his dick whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted - and you loved it. Life was good in the Arataki gang: you always had food, a place to sleep and protection provided to you, at all times. You also had a very tall, very strong and very handsome demon filling you up and breeding you almost daily, making sure your cushy womb was never empty.

The space where you connected was a mess. A glorious mess of both your and his juices seeping out of your hole, being fucked back in each time Itto would trust back. Just as every other day, your gummy walls pulsed around his length, making him shoot yet another load inside you.

"Fuck, baby... Makin' me lose my mind and shit..... So good.... Give me a little taste of that milk, will ya'?"

His large palms left your hips, greedily grabbing at the fat flesh of your boobs. As soon as he squeezed down just a tiny bit, a small stream of milk burst out, hitting Itto in the face. You were instantly mortified. Itto was your master, he saved you from certain death, and now you embarass him like this-

"I'm s-sorry Itto-! So sorry! Didn't mean to, I r-really didn't mean to!"

Instead of scolding you like you were sure any other owner would, the Oni burst out laughing. His laugh was like a roar, shaking his entire body - and with him, you as well.

"Hah, those jerks at the farm jus' didn't know how to milk ya', sweets, 'cause you look full of milk to me!"

It was true - even though you were sold to a slaughterhouse for failing to produce milk, you started leaking like crazy the moment Itto took you as his. That vet back at the farm you grow up on always said that you'd start producing milk if they paired you with a bull, and what better bull than a large, demon one?

Their loss, anyway. Now, all your milk belonged to Itto and his warm mouth, and not to some sketchy farmers who were only interested in selling it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of his sharp fangs on your nips, greedily sucking at the flesh and gulping down the sweet drink. His dick twitched inside you as he continued feasting, your own arms tightening around his head to pull him closer.

The second he detached himself from your chest he thrust out harshly, in the process accidentally completely pushing you from his lap. Even though Itto was mighty and strong, he wasn't exactly the sharpest. There was a slight possibility that he was so occupied with whatever he was doing that he forgot you were on him.

You watched as he stood up, leaving you sitting on your knees on the ground. The Oni spit a bit of your milk on his palm, then using that same hand to roughly jerk his cock. It was more than obvious that milk was one of his kinks.

Oh, but why would he jerk off with milk as lube when you were right there...? On your knees, right next to him, ready and waiting and... Oh, Archons, were you not enough for him anymore..?

When Itto first saved you, the deal was that you'd stay in the Arataki gang until they found you a new home. However, Itto insisted they keep you, even proclaimed you as his own "pretty girl that no one can touch!" He kept you all to himself, fell asleep with you in his arms at night, brought you any awesome flowers he found, even took you on good, honest dates when he'd get a little Mora! He even acted on his demon urges and sunk his fangs into your neck, mating you!

But what if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a little, useless cow? What if that wasn't even enough for his sexual urges any more..?

"I-Itto..." You cry, big tears pooling up in the corners of even bigger eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

At the mention of his name the Oni turns to you, shocked to see you crying.

"Hey, hey, hey! Baby, what's wrong?!"

"Need you.... P-please..."

Not another word needed to be said. Itto immediately reacted, grabbing your soft, much smaller body and seating it once again on his lap, entering you in one swift trust until his tip was snuggly kissing your cervix.

"Shhh, sweets... Let your Oni take care of ya', hm? No need to cry! I thought you couldn't go on, love bug, that's why I stopped! But you really are a restless one, huh, calfie?"

You smiled warmely at the nickname as your head went fuzzy. You laid your pretty head on Arataki's chest - like always - and let him have complete control of how he fucks you.

Each one of his thrust was faster and more brutal than the last. Your pussy was already crying out, threatening to cum just from the first few thrusts. Itto noticed, pinching your puffy clit between his claws and rolling it around.

"OH, ITTO!" You scream in ecstasy, riding your high.

Your master wasn't going to be able to last much longer. With you bouncing on his cock the way you were and how your sweet little cunt was so tight that it was milking him dry, Itto lasted only a couple more thrusts.

"Hah... Haaah... Fuck, love bug... Really wanna milk me too, don't ya'? Ahh... Mmm.. Gonna breed you.. Hah... Gonna breed ya' so good, sweets.. You'll be all nice and full, and you'll get pregnant with my calfs, yeah? Put all that milk to good use, hm? Yeah, yeah!"

He started cumming as well, shooting rope after rope after rope of his sweet release inside you. You were filled to the rim, juices leaking out of your satisfied hole. Arataki didn't let any of it go to waste, his fingertips catching whatever's left and pushing it in.

As soon as you were filled, your hands reached for him, seeking comfort in his warm arms. Itto obliged instantly, carrying you like you were weightless, to the nearby camp they set up. Your master entered his tent, the biggest of the bunch, wrapping your body in a soft blanket and once again settling you in his arms.

"There ya' go, love bug. Comfy?" You nodded, which made Itto break out in a toothy grin. "Well, of course it is! The great numero uno Itto is at your service, baby, of course everything is awesome!"

You chuckled at the way he tooted his own horn, kissing his cheek and hiding your face in his large neck and shoulder.

"G'night, Itto.. Thank you..."

The Oni found your actions adorable, cooing at you: "Awww, sweets, no need to thank me! You know I always gocha. Thank you for being so good f' me, yeah? You're such a good, pretty little cow... I don't know how I got so lucky!"

He pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, caressing your legs with his large palm.

"G'night, baby.."

[apas-95]

every time some liberal starts concern-trolling about the human cost of The Glorious Revolution they always treat revolution as a completely unknown hypothetical - because their arguments are, fundamentally, aimed at anarchists, socdems, and the like, who have no worthwhile historical experience to point towards. when they say 'oh how would you account for healthcare and the manufacture of insulin during wartime?' as though it's an impassable unthought-of roadbloack (which, to be fair, in the case of e.g. anarchism, it is) it is, to an actual communist, a hilariously trivial point - equivalent to someone asking how it could ever be possible to build a Car, because you'd get wind and bugs in your face while driving. historical experience at this point well over a century old has answered all these questions and more! it's a type of argument completely disconnected from reality, where 'communism' is an empty signifier, used as an argument piece between two sets of yankee liberals, such that they expend their energy and go back to Voting

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) The Monkey King: Reborn in "The Sakutopian Fox Princess and The Monkey King"

On the Glorious Morning, The Princess Of Sakutopia, Japan Name "Princess Saphira Lorraina Fox" Who was On the Journey To meet the Oracle At the Temple In the Mighty Forest Mountains.. She Ride Her Mighty Kirin Name "Yuki" The leader and the King of the Herds on the Path to seek The Oracle, The reason Why she was Seeking the Oracle Is because She kept Rejecting alot of Suitors back In Sakutopia, Japan. One By one, Many Suitors are rejected by the princess because their hearts are nothing but greed and Dishonoring, and their Minds Are Power Obsessive and Abusive as well, Mostly they wanted the Throne and treat Saphira Like a "simple house wife, maid, servant, or Much worse of them all.. A Slave", Then her Father Decided to Send Saphira to Seek the Oracle At the Zhen Yuan Temple to tell her Whats Her Future Husband Will be soon and what Future Holds as well. When She made it to the Zhen yuans temple, the two Guardian Deities Came and saw Saphira wearing a beautiful Royal kimono and the beautiful Celestial Fox mask and She said,

Saphira:" Greetings, I am Princess Saphira Lorraina Fox Of Sakutopia and I am Here to seek the Oracle."

Deity 1: "And you've come to stay For the Night as well after Seeking the Oracle?"

Saphira:" Why yes, I must Know what Future holds, you see i was sent From m-"

The Second Deity cut off,

Deity 2:" Your Father, we know. The Master Is Fully aware that your here as well, Your More welcome to Stay and we have a Feeling that Master Tang and Those 3 deity will be arriving as well."

Saphira: "Oh? and who are they?"

Deity 1: " We'll Deal with it, So don't worry about it. Please Follow us."

As Saphira Follows the two Deity as they Guided her to the Nice Luxurious Guest room and She loves it very much and then She thanked them very much as she bows ..and then the two Deity sense that they have arrived, as one of them told her that She can feel free to explore until The Oracle finally arrives in the Form of the elderly Woman, She told Saphira That She is in Terrible Danger and that She will be Cursed By a Demon King Name "Yuandi" the First demon Who will put Saphira Into an Eternal Sleep But She will be Awaken by true loves Kiss From a hero Who was Known as "The Great Sage equal to heaven", Saphira was Shocked that Her Future Husband will be the "Monkey king". Then She asked How would this be possible? But the oracle Answers that Destiny has it's ways to bring Two immortal lovers Together For the good of Saphira's Kingdom.. After the oracle left, Saphira began to Explore the temple while wearing a Lovely Fox Mask and began to Hum and Sings Softly with her beautiful Angelic Voice but little does she know that her Voice Echoes through temple and Nature itself At the center of the Temple, Pigsy Heard Her Voice and realized that there's a Princess In The temple as well along with an enchanted Fruit. Then He began to try to look For Sun wukong to Tell him But He already knows because he too heard Saphira's Voice, So He decided to See who She was and began Following Her beautiful Voice Unexpected By Shapeshift into a bug and Pigsy Turns into a caterpillar, When they Found Her In the Lovely Garden,, The Monkey King Saw the Princess Wearing a Fox Mask but he was curious about whats behind that mask of hers While Saphira Is relaxing and Humming beautifully until.. She saw a green Weird looking caterpillar with a Pig face..when she gets closer, Pigsy Spoke saying "Hiya gorgeous!" Saphira made a Small screams and runs off from the garden saying the caterpillar can talk, She stopped and glance back and pants..She could've swore That this Weird caterpillar can talk, She Spawn a beautiful fan and began to fan herself like she's going to Faint, After fanning herself and began to walk on the boardwalk until She hears the Fluttering of the beetle as she sees the weird Pig face caterpillar again and he Spoke again, trying to flirt at her.. but then saphira Smacked him with her fan and hits the wall as he change back to the original self with a Puff of smoke and she runs off fearfully, While she was running and head to the Big Garden part and She looked around making sure that Pigsy doesn't followed her, When she thought it was coast is clear But She was Followed by a weird Brown beetle but turns out it was the monkey king in the beetle form as she gasp and began to fall backward but She was caught by his arms and he said..

[unknownvirus21]

Something for an au I'm making. Might just add to it in doodles or oneshots

The old switcheroo au. I've already seen other people making their own versions of if Prismo and Scarab switched job positions

My take on it! I wanted Prismo to look actually like a cosmic horror with some bug features as an amen to Scarab.

His body is constructed of both Light and Dark with his backside still being galaxies. However, his back, instead of just looking pretty, is where he stores weapons or anything he uses. Infinite pocket. And the capsule thingy he uses, instead of the Gem like Scarab, he uses a handheld version of the Time Room that's more of a maze and never ending. Time doesn't move inside the cube. That's where he traps those who step out of line

For Scarab, I made him look more human but he still hides behind a mask in this. And that's because of his Third Eye. He uses it to see the true intentions of those who come to him for wishes. And I'm thinking of adding him calling Prismo anytime he gets a Wisher who wants to make a world changing negative wish to capture. OH. And I couldn't get rid of his glorious suit :33

In this version, Prismo is feared for his position and ruthlessness. He may have an easygoing and friendly personality but he takes his job very seriously. Except when it comes to Scarab. He folds so easily and his terrifying personality turns into a complete golden retriever the moment Scarab calls for him.

Meanwhile, Scarab, his personality is more calm but he still sticks to the rules and tries to keep wishes orderly. He's known as Scarab The Tricky Wishmaker because of the outcomes of some of the wishes he's granted. It was the Wishers faults for not being specific. His opinion of Prismo is honestly very low. He thinks he's an imbecile who somehow got the job to maintain the order of the universe. He thinks he is sometimes too easy on certain gods. Don't even get him started on how Prismo treats him!

Despite his low opinion of the God Auditor, he still tolerates his presence. Why? He.. doesn't really know. And if he did, he would never admit it.

[lou-struck]

Room For Two?

Eijirou Kirishima x reader

~Love is all about sacrifice, you learn this on a hot summer's day when your alone time is lovingly interrupted.

Prompt: Hammock

~This is one of the requested prompts for my Summertime Fun Event. Feel free to check it out. 

It is a picture-perfect afternoon in the height of summer. Although the sun is beating down, you are nestled comfortably in your beloved hammock in the shade, taking advantage of a glorious day off from work.

Your water bottle is nice and cold, and you have several good books tucked away in your tote bag. Needless to say, you are all ready to hunker down for the rest of the day. 

A slight summer breeze rustles the leaves of the two great trees you are tied to, sending the last of the season's blossoms fluttering harmlessly to the ground around you.

In complete bliss, you take a long sip of your water and turn the page.

'This is the life,' you think to yourself.

If only you had more days like this. Maybe you could actually complete your Goodreads challenge this year. Briefly, you wonder why you haven't been able to complete it these last two years when your work hours have been basically the same.

The thought harmlessly flutters away like a passing butterfly as you get engrossed in the novel you are reading, tearing through it with a hungry speed. 

"Hey there, beautiful. Whatcha doing?" a familiar deep voice calls, yanking your attention away from the scene and back to reality.

Oh, right, that's why…

Eijirou Kirishima, your sweet, chivalrous distraction and loving boyfriend stands above you. A big, loving smile on his face that you can't help but reciprocate. 

"Hi, Eiji," you grin, taking in his appearance; he has changed out of his hero costume and into some gray sweat shorts and a black Dynamite t-shirt. But you notice that his handsome face seems to have gotten quite an interesting tan line. "Looks like you got some sun today."

His bright red hair frames his now pink cheeks as he flashes you a shark-toothed grin. "No kidding, that face mask of mine is no joke," he brushes his crimson locks back to show you just how bad it is. You can see the pale outline of his chin where his black face guard sits, contrasting against his sun-slapped skin. 

Your eyes bug out of your head as your jaw drops with stunned amusement. Although you should at least pretend to be concerned, your urge to giggle overpowers your common sense. "Oh my god. Eiji. That's so bad."

"Could be worse," he shrugs, throwing his hands up and walking closer to your hammocked paradise. He runs his fingers along the taught strings that tether you to the trees and presses down on it lightly like he is testing its security. "You've got a nice little setup here Babe. Got room for one more?"

You blink… "On the Hammock?"

"Yeah, it looks cozy," he says, already kicking off his slides and trying to climb onto your little multicolored hammock. Although his quirk is not activated, his ridiculously hard muscles squeeze against you as he lowers his full weight on top of the hammock. 

On top of you…

The hammock rocks back and forth as you giggle and squirm under him. "Eiji, this hammock is small. There is no way we are both gonna fit."

"No way babe, you are not Titanicing me right now," he laughs, blowing you a raspberry. "There is more than enough room for us to have a serious cuddle session."

You are stunned into silence as you try to process him turning Titanic into a verb and pray that if the hammock snaps, you won't be flattened between the ground and Mt. Kirishima.

"This is nice, he hums, lying completely on top of you, although it is not at all cuddling weather.

"Is it?" you wheeze, feeling the spin of your hardcover book pressing into your gut. "I feel like I'm dying?"

He leans off of you slightly and looks at you caged under him. The flustered look on your cheeks brings a smirk to his lips as he presses an apologetic kiss to your sweaty temple. "Oh, Sorry. I guess I should be the one on the bottom." He flexes his bicep for show, "These muscles of mine make a better pillow than a weighted blanket.

"Please…" you rasp, your book still making it difficult for you to breathe.

"There we go," he murmurs, wedging himself between you and the bottom of the woven pattern beneath you until he ends up lying completely under you. Your limbs are pretzeled together cutely, and your book has fallen safely onto the dry grass with a thud. "All better?"

You look at his innocent expression and cannot bring yourself to roll off the hammock and create a new space bubble for yourself.  You relent and lay your head down on his chest and breathe in the subtle smell of his cologne. His arms wrap around you, and the whole odd situation feels awfully comforting. 

You close your eyes and think to yourself that although it's hot outside, maybe sharing a hammock with your favorite person isn't the worst thing in the world. 

"Much better."

[jungle-angel]

That's My Kinda Night (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Your 4th Of July celebration on the Abbott land turns out to be the best you've ever had

Warnings: Parenthood, drinking, holiday shenanigans etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @bradleybeachbabe

The barbecue was in full swing with John, Royal and a few of their friends manning the grills and smokers, everyone enjoying themselves to the fullest extent. Billy had been deejaying all afternoon while you and Rhett brought out the rest of the food from the house. Amy had been running wild all day with Rose and her friends while Perry had come for his monthly visit.

Kayce and Rip rolled up in the truck just a few minutes later, the snap cover of the truck looking rather lumpy. "The hell you guys got in here?" Rhett asked.

"Take a look," Kayce said with a huge, shit eating grin.

Rhett pulled back the cover, his jaw hanging wide open and his eyes bugging from his skull. "Ya'll didn't!" he exclaimed.

"The fuck we did," Rip chuckled.

"And he gave'em all too you guys?"

"Got it half off for the Fourth," Kayce answered. "Even the big bangers."

Rhett gasped when he saw them, those glorious, huge fireworks that Gale Burch, the neighborhood church hag, destested with every fiber of her being. There was no way in hell they were going to pass up that opportunity.

Royal, John and Wayne all came down a minute later, beer cans in hand and Wayne puffing away on a cigar. "Looks like ya'll have a good haul," John remarked.

"Got it all half off, Dad," Kayce told him.

The three grown men were wide eyed and laughing with surprise. "Holy Jeebus, Mary and Joseph!" Royal laughed. "Now that's what I call a load."

"Wide load, heavy toad," Wayne laughed.

"Wanna help set'em off, Dad?" Rhett asked.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Royal retorted.

Rhett laughed as you made your way down the path to the truck. A squawk escaped your throat when you saw the load in the truck bed. "Oh my God, Gale's gonna have a shit fit when she hears these," you chuckled.

"Good, maybe it'll get the stick outta her ass," Rhett laughed.

You and Rhett went back to the barbecue, enjoying the rest of the night as it came, dancing under the pavilion with your friends and family and enjoying all the tasty food. You, Rhett, Kayce, Monica, Rip and Beth all laughed your asses off as you tried to do the Cupid Shuffle, screwing up and laughing along the way. Unbeknownst to you, your mother-in-law, Patricia and the other mothers had all snuck down to the truck to get a look at the load of fireworks.

"Oh my God, ya'll are never gonna believe this," Cecelia said, pulling back the snap cover.

Patricia gasped and so didn't Tanya Rainwater. Winona Redwood cackled like a witch when she laid eyes on it too, all of them excited to see what kind of chaos this would cause the very next day.

"If Wayne burns his eyebrows again I'm done," Patricia chuckled, throwing her hands up.

"That ain't the only thing he's gonna burn off," Cecelia told her. "Remember back in college when these idiots drove all the way down here and came back up to Bozeman with a load of'em?"

The women all groaned, the memories of their husbands' stupidity still fresh as it had been forty years previously.

"Yeah and Chief Running-Of-The-Mouth and his partner, Afraid-Of-Crotch-Hair, didn't realize that ya'll don't light that shit near your pants," Patricia laughed. "Remember, eyes open, knees shut!"

"If Wayne's knees are open, shut your eyes," Tanya laughed.

They all laughed, returning back to the pavilion, their husbands all leading them in for a dance as "Copperhead Road" began to play from the speakers.

At last the sun went down and the gang began prepping for the fireworks. The older kids, some of whom were your students at the Amelia County Steiner School, were being shown how to properly light everything, while you and Rhett began unloading the haul.

"You ready for the show?" Rhett purred in a low voice as he pressed you against the trunk of the tree.

"More than ready cowboy," you giggled, tipping the brim of his hat up.

He leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and warm as they moved in sync with yours. Your arms wrapped around his waist, Rhett's hands gently cupping your face.

"Hey you two wanna quit suckin face and come help?!" Royal called from across the field.

"Comin Dad!" Rhett answered.

You and Rhett hurried along to go and help them set up. The kids were all eager to get started now that it was pitch black out, the anticipation in the air so thick, it could've been cut with a knife.

"Daddy! Daddy! I wanna light it!" Amy chirped.

"Yeah I wanna light it too!" Rosie Hawk piped in.

"Rosie, ya'll need to ask your mommas if you can light it. Amy you and Rosie are still too little," Rhett told her.

The two girls scrunched their faces up in their usual pouty, disappointed looks, running off to go and raid the dessert table instead.

"Alright kiddos," Rhett said to the group of fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth graders who gathered around him. "Ya'll remember what to do?"

"Eyes open," Jaime Campbell answered.

"Knees shut," said Katie Stone.

"And don't burn yourself," Clay Hauser replied.

"Excellent!" Rhett exclaimed. "Now get to work my evil little goons."

"YES SIR!" they all replied.

As soon as the music started to play, you, Rhett and the others went all across the field, lighting off the fireworks. They hissed as they flew into the air, bursting apart in colorful sparks of red, white, blue, gold, green and purple. The screamers and the pinwheels had been the favorite of the kids, flying about in a spiral before disappearing into thin air.

Rhett set off a set that he and the others had called "dragon tails", fireworks that screamed into the air and coiled about like their namesake before exploding with a chest rattling *BOOM!*. Finally, it was time for the big ones.

"Ya'll wanna do the honors darlin?" he asked.

"With pleasure!" you exclaimed happily.

You lit the wick with Rhett's lighter, rushing to get out of the way as it screamed and flew into the air, higher, higher and higher still. High above the treeline it burst apart, everyone covering their ears as golden sparks rained down from above. All at once the colorful rockets flew into the air and exploded to the awe of the onlookers. You and Rhett however, stood back near the trees and shared a kiss, unbeknownst to everyone else.

[thechekhov]

Hello I have started reading Gideon the Ninth because of you and I am really really REALLY enjoying it!!! I have only 116 pages in but... I do not like Harrow

I'm sure I'll like her later, based on the art you've drawn of her, but I am with Gideon and her burning hatred of Harrow. (And I am also looking forward to the time where I like Harrow!)

Right now though? She does a lot of things that just seen pointless and very mean. At least with Gideon whenever she does something mean to Harrow I can understand it because we're reading the book through her perspective, but whenever Harrow does anything seemingly cruel I can't help but wonder why.

Oh yes, I won't lie to you - for a lot of the book, Harrow isn't meant to be LIKABLE. She's a tiny gremlin in the meat-suit of a tinier gremlin and she is weighed down by glorious purpose to the Ninth. All the things she does do have reasoning behind them, but the reasoning isn't always morally sound, and it often so knotted and complicated it takes you to the end of the THIRD BOOK to comprehend it.

I won't fault you for disliking her at all - that's not the purpose of the first half of the book! I think I was only merely very amused by her, the same way I am amused by a beautiful bug that crawls across my window in the middle of the night as though it is scheming a way to get inside.

[marlynnofmany]

Stars and the Slapping Thereof

If the last spaceport had been a flat parking lot kind of place, this one reminded me of a hollow skyscraper made for birds. I don’t know how the whole thing stayed up, honestly; the walls were more open air than anything else. Spaceships parked at every level. Elevators and gravity tubes zipped around vertically, while moving sidewalks spun in opposite directions.

From where our ship sat, I had a fine view of a mixed-species group in teal uniforms all trying to crowd onto the inner sidewalk ring at the same time. They moved off to the right with only minor awkwardness. Behind the ship, I heard the unmistakable sound of a human falling over and swearing about it, most likely after stepping on the other ring accidentally.

Not that I’ve ever done that, mind you. Nooooo, not a bit of personal experience with undignified pratfalls.

“Is that— No, that isn’t them,” Paint said, paying attention to something completely different. “I hope there will still be a spot near us when they get here.” She rubbed her knuckles together in agitation, orange scales clicking.

Zhee flicked an antenna. “Kamm is always punctual,” he said. “It will be fine.”

I leaned out of the ship’s shadow to count the empty spots. “We can always go stand in one to reserve it for her.” I reconsidered. “Right? Or do the pilots land too quickly here?”

Zhee was saying something disparaging about the general population’s safety awareness when a hoverchair separated from the crowd and whirred up to us. The driver was a pale human with glittery star crystals in his dark hair, thin legs that clearly didn’t get much use, and bare feet. The toenail polish was even more galaxy-patterned than his hair. Stylish. He called out as soon as he was within polite speaking range.

“Is this the Unflattenable?” he asked, pointing at our ship.

I looked up and back. “Oh! No, but it’ll be here soon. We’re waiting for it too.”

“Ah,” he said. “Sorry. Your ship looks a lot like it.”

Zhee didn’t move, looking in both directions with his big bug eyes. “Same manufacturers,” he said.

Paint was more enthusiastic. “We haven’t seen them in forever!” she told the man. “They’re going to help us deliver a bunch of stuff in one trip.”

The man nodded. “They’re bringing cargo for me. I hoped they’d be here by now.”

“Should be soon,” I said, peering around at the many directions a ship could approach from. No sign of another lemon-looking craft with solar sails.

He nodded again. Everyone was awkwardly silent for a moment. A distant ship landed with a thump of faulty thrusters. Pedestrians on both sidewalks held loud conversations as they slid past.

“So what’s your ship called?” the man asked.

Zhee straightened up. “This is the good ship—”

Paint beat him to it. “Slap the Stars! Isn’t that a great name?”

The man burst into laughter, then apologized at the angry tilt to Zhee’s antennae. “Sorry. I love it. I’m not much of a spacer, and I keep being surprised by some of the names that ships have around here.”

“That is a perfectly normal name,” Zhee told him with an abrupt motion of one pincher. “Strongarm manufacturers. It is human ships that have the truly absurd titles.”

I grinned at him. “You’re still not over the droid jousting ship Hold My Beer, are you?”

Zhee’s tone was extremely dry. “I will never be over that.”

“I saw some great ones earlier!” Paint said, unfolding a screen and connecting to the port’s public information hub. “Let’s see, there’s the Glorious.”

“A fine Mesmer name,” Zhee put in.

“The Deep Thrum; I like that. Might be Frillian? Oh, and there’s the human warship Funwrecker.”

I laughed. “Yup, definitely human.”

“And the Better Than You.”

“That could really be either human or Mesmer,” I said with a look at Zhee.

Zhee flexed his pinchers, looking haughty. “It all depends on whether it is true.”

Paint kept reading. “What about the Solar Flare? That could be anybody.”

“Heatseeker,” Zhee said. “Solar flares are hot.”

Paint, a Heatseeker herself, scoffed quietly. “Not everything is about heat.”

“Don’t most Heatseeker ships have food names?” I asked with a glance at the other human, who was following all this with open curiosity. “Pretty sure Captain Sunlight has family with a ship called the Worm Jerky.”

“I guess they do,” Paint said thoughtfully. “It’s a good luck thing. I didn’t realize it was that common.” She looked back at the screen. “Oh, and that might explain this other ship called the Raw Flesh.”

The human spoke up at that. “The what?”

I held up both hands. “It’s got to be a translation issue. A food thing. Some specific uncooked dish. Like sushi?”

The human just shook his head and made a face like he’d tasted something unpleasant.

“There’s also the Conqueror of the Next Ocean,” Paint offered. “That one’s probably Strongarm.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I said. “They’re so proud of crawling out of their first ocean.”

“Strongarms are the ones with tentacles, right?” the human asked.

“Right,” I told him. “They look kind of like an octopus or a squid.”

“You said your ship was designed by Strongarms? What was it called again?”

“Slap the Stars,” I said. “Strongarms do slap a number of things with those tentacles. It’s a fun bit of sass in a ship name.”

“It’s not sass,” Zhee said scornfully. “It’s an intent to master all things, whether the things want to be mastered or not. Very admirable confidence.”

Paint looked up in distress. “I thought it was a game!” she said. “Something with pebbles on a table, right? Isn’t that a thing?”

The door to our ship opened to admit the scaly yellow form of Captain Sunlight. I turned to her for answers. “Hello, Captain! Can you tell us what the name of our ship actually means?”

Unflappable as ever, the good captain barely quirked a browridge as she walked over to join us. “Something about slapping stars, I imagine,” she said. “I always thought of it as a nod to the way damp tentacles can put out sparks of flame without getting burned.”

I threw my hands skyward in mock exasperation.

Captain Sunlight kept talking. “But then, I’m not a Strongarm. Let me ask one.” She spoke into her communicator, addressing the pilot on duty. “Wio, what is the Strongarm association with slapping stars?”

Faint and tinny, Wio’s voice said, “Pretty sure it’s something about gathering food. Spiky ones. I don’t know; I’m from a different planet.”

The human was chuckling quietly to himself at this point, while Zhee looked grumpy and Paint scrolled through more names for clues. Captain Sunlight glanced at me.

“Looks like we’ll just have to ask someone who was actually there when the ship was named,” she said, nodding toward the next dock. “Here she is.”

A bright yellow ship with folded solar sails came in to rest beside ours, remarkably stealthy when I wasn’t paying attention. The other human said a quick goodbye to us before scooting over to wait for the hatch to open.

As eager as we were to see the crew again after long last, we kept a professional distance while they did business. A pair of Heatseekers brought out the human’s crate — a fancy model with its own hover engine — and a Strongarm tactfully proffered the payment tablet.

Then Captain Kamm herself appeared, in all her deep green glory, with a polite greeting for the human and an enthusiastic wave of several tentacles toward us. “Hello over there! It’s been too long!”

“It has!” Captain Sunlight said, strolling over while the human handed back the tablet and hitched the crate to the back of his chair. I followed, with Zhee and Paint right behind. Captain Sunlight continued. “We’ve got a burning question for you. What was the original meaning behind our ship name? We seem to have come up with several. I’d ask Pockap, but…”

“But he’s far away, and also an idiot,” Captain Kamm finished, speaking about her cousin with complete honesty. He’d only been in charge for the very beginning of my time on the ship, and “idiot” was generous.

“As you say,” Captain Sunlight agreed.

“Well, if I recall correctly, it was actually inspired by a human thing,” said Captain Kamm.

“What?” I blurted. In my peripheral vision, the other human paused before going on his way.

“That thing you do,” Captain Kamm said, waving a tentacle. “Slapping each other in camaraderie.”

“We what?” I repeated, sharing a baffled look with the other guy.

Captain Kamm waved the one tentacle again, then flopped two against each other, making a wet sound. “You know,” she said. “You slap hands. Very friendly. The idea was to bring that kind of cheerful energy to the stars.”

I held my hands apart, thinking of applause, then it hit me. “Oh! Do you mean a high five?” I turned and demonstrated; the other human matched it perfectly.

“Yes!” Captain Kamm said. “That! That’s what your ship is named for!”

I laughed; I couldn’t help it. Zhee made an opinionated hiss while Paint exclaimed that that was much better than the game explanation.

“Glad I could be a part of this,” said the human. “See you around! May you slap many stars.”

“The same to you!” I said, waving as he steered onto the walkway. “Hooray for solving a mystery that we didn’t realize needed solving.”

“Those are the best kind,” said Paint, and I had to agree.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

[cruel-acid]

GLORIOUS MASQUERADE IZA

First card I made for Iza finally here! Also, it has like three references to the Emperor’s new groove and if you somehow manage to find them all well - lemme know cause I wanna know if they’re noticeable

Voice lines below the cut✨

When summoned: I think I’ve worked quite enough already. Now to find a cool, secluded spot to rest…

Summon line: I never thought I’d luck out on this lottery… Gotta make the most of it and enjoy this festival to the fullest!

Groovy: Glitter, feathers, bright colours… I’m gonna steal the spotlight and have it all for myself tonight! Or, I could share it with someone special…

Home: I might share my drink with you. As long as you won’t snitch, of course.

Swap looks: Ugh, I hope the mask didn’t smudge my makeup…

Home idle 1: Fleur City is awfully sunny. Fortunately, I’m mostly covered so I don’t risk getting sunburned.

Home idle 2: Yes, the desserts here are quite nice but the grapes, oh how delicious they are! I’m sure I can find the best wines in here…

Home idle 3: We’ve wasted so much time on that goat situation, that there was no time to check out any fragrance stores… Such a shame, I was hoping to find something new.

Home idle - login: So, a beautiful place and some fun with my two friends and my boyfriend? Sounds almost too good to be true, but I guess it does for a nice reward.

Home idle - groovy: Ah, I almost feel naked without any earrings, but I didn’t pack anything that’d fit this look… A shame, really.

Home tap 1: Dad told me a lot about Fleur City… I should really bring him a souvenir, now that I think about it.

Home tap 2: That Rollo guy… I cannot believe we’ve just let him off the hook that easily! 

Home tap 3: This outfit surely isn’t something I’d usually wear. The gloves are bugging me especially…

Home tap 4: Look how bright the moon is tonight… I much prefer moonlight to the sun, didn’t you know it’s a beauty-killer?

Home tap 5: Would you mind checking my cape and hat? I have a feeling something might have gotten stuck in the net.

Home tap - groovy: What, didn’t expect me to have an outfit change for the ball? Please, don’t underestimate me!

[kayr0ss]

Waters of March (ch. 1 of 2)

[Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon, Farcille, Fluff & Humor, Established Relationship, Married Farcille, Falin is doing her best, Marcille is stressed] AO3 Link

Summary: The misadventures of Falin Touden as she gathers gifts to woo her wife.

-

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

They said that she was something fearsome to behold: with sharp, draconic eyes and a glorious cover of feathers. They said that she had the strength of a dragon, tempered by justice and kindness—a figure of legend—as terrifying as she was fair. And yet...

The baker fidgeted with his hands, swallowed, stuttered: “...Your Highness?”

And yet it was hard to think of her like that when she was hunched over a tray of raspberry tarts and croissants, visibly distressed by the burden of making the right pastry choice.

She was so normal that he could feel his mind slip into cognitive dissonance, refusing to believe that the Duchess of Melini was pacing around his pastry shop in a crumpled cloak. Her hair was disheveled, her expression forlorn. She pulled her collar further up her neck, a miserable attempt at hiding her tufts of feathers, offering a small yet weary smile to the townsfolk beginning to gawk into his shop window.

“Oh, please don’t call me that,” she asked kindly. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene at your workplace.”

Yes. Of course. Nothing to see here, just Falin Touden—Falin Touden!—sighing despondently at a box of chocolate treats. The baker was a bit lost for words, hovering awkwardly behind the counter while she scanned the shelves. Sure, okay, they were right about the feathers—but where he had expected mystery, or perhaps authority, he instead found a soft and gentle kindness. Even a little bit of awkwardness, if the way she fidgeted with her fingers was any indication.

She caught sight of his more peculiar treats: hardened chocolates shaped in the form of coin bugs. Was that awestruck wonder shining in her dragon's eyes?

"My apologies." He bowed, struggling to drop the honorific. She gave him a lighthearted wave.

Falin Touden circled the bakery for another while yet, her attention constantly pulled this way and that—there she fawned over caramel crickets, here she stared at a tray of macarons with studious intensity. The king's sister had tastes as peculiar as the Devourer himself, it seems, with the way she kept gravitating back towards his more.... monstrous design choices. He was about to tell her all about them, too—about how the molding chocolate was made from cacao beans found further east than Izganda, or how he'd spent years practicing his tempering technique—but she beat him to the punch with a question.

“Are you married?”

A very peculiar question too!

“For nearly two decades now, my lady.” He watched as she looked through the pie display a third time over. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I know how that feels,” Falin smiled wistfully. She toyed with the golden band at her left hand absentmindedly. He wondered if she even realized she did that. “Maybe you can offer me a bit of advice?”

“Advice?”

"You see," her smile turned sheepish, “my wife is furious with me.”

-

They had minimized the choices to 'puff pastry' and 'raspberry'—which didn't really make it that much easier. Helping clients figure out the perfect gift for a loved one was second nature to the baker by now, but dissuading someone from buying their spouse an eight-pound hydra statue was definitely... a first.

He had a few samples to show her, laid out on a spread on the counter. There were tarts, turnovers, pies, danishes—and while they weren't all filled with raspberries, he assured her that it would be of minimal effort to have a custom order made.

She regarded them with delight, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the display of perfect, golden, flaky dough.

"Oh," she sighed dreamily. "They look wonderful. I could eat them all!"

"We could also make strudels," the baker offered, suddenly excited. Did the Royal Sorceress enjoy strudels? Perhaps something more dignified like: "Twists! Although palmiers are good option as well—drizzled with syrup, dusted off with fine sugar—"

The barrage of choices seems to have overwhelmed the poor woman, now blinking wide-eyed at the baker who very quickly schooled his demeanor. "My apologies, Your Highness!" He squawked, wincing at the way the title made her jump. "My excitement got the better of me."

"It's alright," she said with a laugh.

The baker hummed for a thoughtful minute. "What about mille-feuille?"

"Mill—um, what?"

"They're little rectangles of puff pastry, folded over and over again until each layer is so thin that they're almost like the pages of a book!" He smiled. "We could use raspberry cream, layered in between."

Her small, charmed gasp let him know he hit the nail on the head. "Like the tomes she pores over day-by-day!"

He ran behind the counter, reaching into his display where he had samples. "These are layered with simple buttercream—" he placed the tray in front of her "—but it would look something like this." This batch had come out handsomely: a dozen little rectangles, cut to perfection. There were three layers of puff pastry, each of their pages so thin he feared a stray breath of air might chip away the corners. A generous spread of cream lay between them, finished off with a dusting of fine sugar. While some of his clients liked things a little messy-looking, opting for the casual shapelessness of goopy drop cookies and uneven brownies, others liked symmetric perfection. Lady Donato seemed to be the latter, if his impression of her was sound: a stern, intelligent, and practical presence above the King's shoulder. Yes. It was settled. Mille-feuille would do.

She was in a much better mood by the time they had ironed out the details of her order—her shoulders relaxed, feathers almost settled in relief.

"I'm glad this place hasn't changed that much," she commented off-handedly while counting her coins. (He offered the pastries for free—she vehemently refused.)

"Have you been here before?"

"Mhm," she nods. "When Melini was still just an island, my brother and I would come here after particularly rewarding dungeon runs."

He paled. Her brother? The—"The King?"

"We probably seemed so different back then."

It's a bit of a blur—but he has faint memories of a scraggly pair of siblings with ash-blonde hair. They were too thin for the weapons they carried—the young man had barely filled out enough to fit his jerkin. Both had innocent, amber eyes—too hopeful and naive for this world.

It couldn't be...

"Well, I've got someone to meet." Falin Touden said, climbing out his back window. Why was she climbing out his back window? "I'll pick them up later this afternoon!"

She waved, threw her legs over the ledge, and was off.

-

"I'm still mad at you!" Marcille grumbled.

She looked so very vexed—an interesting contrast to how gently she was straightening out Falin's collar, smoothing out her feathers until they lay flat and presentable.

"But!" Marcille punctuated with an accusatory finger to Falin's chest. "You shouldn't miss lunch, you know that your metabolism is different now."

Lunch. The whole affair of finding the perfect pastry had caused Falin to miss it.

Marcille was right—her appetite was different now. It ran deep, as though it was more than just the physical sensation of needing to eat. Falin's hunger had grown with her strength. Marcille (and Laios!) had sat her down and forced her to endure lecture upon lecture on the intricacies of tall-man and dragon physiology—it almost felt like academy lessons! Stronger muscles, sharper eyes, deeper mana—all of that meant she needed more energy, and a regular tall-man's stomach could only digest so much. She'd just have to eat more. A lot more. It was a bit troublesome on her travels, but her days back home have become a joyful assortment of extra brunches, second dinners, and justified treats in-between.

How wonderful it was—the fact that the two people she loved the most had the perfect intersection of knowledge to help her.

Although today was not the day to be skipping her all-important meals: she'd planned to spend an hour or two foraging for magical plants with Senshi in the nearby woods. When she arrived at their meeting place outside the castle, Marcille was already there—glowering at her with one hand on her hip, a bag of packed lunch and travel snacks in the other. She had shoved it into Falin's hands before fussing over the disheveled state of her clothing.

"Sorry," Falin said earnestly, hoping to soothe Marcille's sharp temper. It was a hot, overbearing day. The humidity probably wasn't helping her mood. A sheen of sweat covered Marcille's forehead, and she had grown flushed from the heat. So beautiful—even while she huffed and puffed and pouted. Falin felt a wave of affection as overbearing as the heat of the sun on their backs.

She really, really needed to make it up to her today.

"Don't be late for dinner," Marcille mumbled, crossing her arms.

"Of course." Falin promised.

"Keep her alive for me?" Marcille said towards Senshi, who had been here the whole time but was very good at pretending he was somewhere else completely.

He held a thumbs up. "She'll probably be keeping me alive for you, lass."

That made her laugh a little, and Falin was going to have to thank him for that later. Marcille leaned over to give him a small hug. Falin followed, hoping to get one too, leaning forward to place her hands on Marcille's waist, but—

No such luck—Marcille swatted her away. "Uh-uh!" she tutted. "You're not off the hook!"

She pulled back, holding her hands up in resignation. She wasn't trying to pout—really, she wasn't—but there was a small crack in Marcille's resolve when she did and Falin was willing to take her chances. Marcille was stubborn, though. A stubborn (and wonderful) woman who simply would not give in just yet.

With a final round of goodbyes and reminders, Marcille finally walked (stomped?) back into the castle, seemingly in a better mood than she was before.

"What did you do?" Senshi stood beside her as they watched her disappear into the double doors of the gate.

"Well, my mother-in-law is arriving this weekend." Falin fiddled with her sleeve. "And I forgot."

Senshi sighed. Then he brought up a hand to give Falin a firm pat on the back in solidarity.

-

A pollux mushroom can be used as an enchanting reagent, she could almost hear Marcille's voice in her head. You can tell them apart from others by their double-layered caps and bright colors. But they're not edible, even if they look like candy!

They really did look like candy. There was a multicolored bundle of vivid colors that sat nestled by the roots of an aged, mossy willow tree. Falin wanted to eat them. They had gathered a good amount of plants by now, but having these would make their trip worth it twice over. It was the perfect gift to give Marcille—

—if only there wasn't a giant boar between them and the mushrooms.

"Quiet now," Senshi whispered, crouched behind a thicket of bushes they'd been hiding in. She nodded, carefully parting the leaves, her nose twitching at the scent of prey. It was a mean-looking fellow with menacing, curved tusks that jutted out of its lip. It stomped its hooves on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust, looking around as though it could feel their eyes on its back—already on alert.

"Oh, that's a wonderful looking creature right there." There was something in Senshi's voice... some sort of anticipation. Not concern though, there was hardly anything to worry about between the two of them and a boar. But he was tense. Almost as if he was... excited?

"You know what we should do to help with Marcille?"

"What?" she whispered back, her hands tightening around the grip of her mace.

He had sparkles in his eyes—mushrooms forgotten. "Cook her favorite meal."

Their eyes connected.

Falin did her best to fight down a grin. Yes, of course, yes! What a wonderful thought—glazed cutlets of pork layered over pasta, a bit of cabbage, garlic, bean sprouts, egg! She trained her eyes back to the boar—the promise of a wonderful meal—and sank low. She felt for the knife sheathed by her boot. If they did this right, there wouldn't be much of a fight or a mess, and—

Her stomach grumbled so loudly that blood rushed up her neck.

Senshi dropped his face into his palms.

Falin chucked nervously.

The boar had whipped its head towards them.

It let out a monstrous squeal—pounding its hooves against the dirt. There was a minute of sweet, tense, silence before it bolted right towards them.

Falin swung on instinct—knife forgotten—her arm throwing her mace in arc effortlessly while Senshi rolled out of the way in an expert maneuver—

"Don't ruin it!" Senshi scolded. She blinked in surprise, changing the trajectory of her mace in the last minute before hitting dirt. "We need it intact around the shoulders—" he dodged a hoof "—and the legs for some ham, and—" Falin jumped back, eyes wide, nearly getting impaled by a tusk "—even the head, for stew!"

"That's the whole boar!" Falin whined. "Where else am I supposed to hit it?!"

"Knife it in the neck!" He deflected another kick with his axe. "Wait—no—the jowl is wonderful for—"

"Sorry Senshi," she growled, rolling over, steadying herself and gripping her mace with both hands. She really hoped she wouldn't have to walk back to the castle covered in blood with a boar slung over her shoulder. "I'm going to bash its head in."

-

She showed up to the castle covered in blood with a boar slung over her shoulders.

While the staff and been gracefully quiet about her ridiculous appearance on the way in, Chilchuck—on his way out from a labor meeting with the council sans Falin—had screeched at the sight of her, shivering hard enough that she swore the hairs on his arms stood on end.

"Falin!"

"Hey, Chilchuck." Falin looked around. "Marcille—"

"—is in a terrible mood!" Chilchuck growled, already pushing her (and the boar by proxy) towards the kitchens. "Negotiations were close to falling out this afternoon," he rattled on, "she's already terrorizing Kabru and your brother—if she sees you looking like you just murdered someone she's going to be an even bigger pain in our asses!"

"Well, I sort of did?"

"Unhelpful!" He whipped his head towards Senshi, who was whistling innocently behind them. "And you! Did you put her up to this?"

"I just made a suggestion."

Chilchuck pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course you did."

"He was just trying to help," Falin pouted. She muttered a small thanks to the kitchen staff that had unloaded the boar from her back. "I've been trying to put together a few things to give to Marcille, since she's upset with me at the moment."

Chilchuck scratched at the back of his neck, scowling. "She did seem unusually ornery at the meeting today."

"Yeah," Falin sighed. "Senshi suggested we put together her favorite meal, something like the one he prepared for her back in the dungeon. I've already ordered some pastries for dessert."

They lingered in the back of the kitchen, watching as Senshi climbed onto a stool to look over the fresh boar carcass, butcher's knife in hand. He instructed the rest of the staff well, happy to have their help butchering it. She'd spent enough time under his tutelage to understand his process: He'd make pulled pork and sausages from the shoulder and cure some of the belly for bacon. The rest of the belly he would stuff with herbs and lemongrass and aromatics, rolling it up with twine and roasting in an oven before crackling the skin with scalding oil. He called that one pork belly lechon roll—and just the thought of it made her mouth water: the crackle of the skin, offering slight resistance before it gave in to tender, juicy meat covered in a delectable layer of fat that melted in your mouth.

There were the usual cuts of meat, too: ham out of its haunches, short ribs pulled apart for sour soup. He got to the head and—well, she was very good at clubbing things to their death so probably no stew this time, sadly.

Chilchuck considered her plans. "That's a good call, actually."

She beamed.

"She's probably irritable ‘cause she hasn't been able to catch a break for a good meal today." He rubbed at his chin. "What did you even do?"

Falin didn't really fancy being asked the second time in the same day, so she was glad when Senshi looked over his shoulder and answered for her. Though her relief was immediately replaced with concern at how pale Chilchuck had gone.

"Falin." He covered his face with his hands. "You done fucked up."

"Is it—" she blinked. "Is it really so bad?"

"In-laws are the most complicated part of marriage!" He grabbed her by the arms, as though shaken by some long-buried anxiety. "You need to buy her flowers! And—" he gave her a once-over from head to toe, shaking his head in disappointment. "We can go to the markets later to get some, but first you have to clean up, we're not walking around the city with you covered in blood!"

"I can’t cook with you two stirring so much of a fuss!" Senshi grumbled from his perch atop the stool. "You two go take care of finding Marcille's flowers, and I'll make sure dinner is ready by the time you get back."

Next thing she knew she was being pulled out of the kitchens, Chilchuck's hand around her wrist while he stomped back into the castle's main hall in a way that reminded her of her father.

"Um," she looked up at the elaborate clock on the far side of the hall, having to bend downwards so that Chilchuck could comfortably pull her along. It was three and a half hours past noon, which meant Marcille might be back in their quarters to rest. She'd need to figure out how to get changed without being spotted. She thumbed her chin, aimlessly following Chilchuck while he led her through the castle, wondering if maybe she'd left a shirt or two in Laios' chambers—or maybe borrow one of his? Surely it was better than this—stained deep with blood still fresh from the animal. Yes. Okay. Laios' chambers it is. They reached the hallway that led to the royal wing and Chilchuck finally let go. "I'll wait over here," he sank into one of the visiting couches.

She realized that she'd have to pass by the entrance to her and Marcille's chambers on the way to Laois. Not wanting to risk any premature meetings, she looked around, and found the appropriate detour.

She pointed at a window.

"I'm going to go this way."

"That's a window."

"I know."

"You know what," Chilchuck threw his hands up. "Whatever."

-

So, maybe the detour wasn't entirely necessary—but it was fun! From out here, she had a good hypothetical view of the town below: how the city sprawled outwards and then thinned before turning into golden fields that rolled on and on. Hypothetical because, well, it was hard to sight-see with your front pressed against the wall, holding on by the edges of your fingers and the lip of your boots.

The royal wing was, in reality, a random tower in the corner of the castle that had sections converted to separate apartments with rooms, kitchens, and living areas. The former royal wing was too much for any of them: Laios decided there were better uses for such grand, extravagant spaces.

She dropped lower when she passed by several windows that she knew opened up to her and Marcille's chambers—the first was their bedroom window, the second was their living area, and last was a small little square that let a breeze into their kitchen. She knew the way fairly well by now and was familiar with which of the bricks jutted out of the walls just right enough to be a hand hold. Overall, she was thrilled by the height and air that whipped around her.

It wasn't long before she spotted it: Laios' window on the opposite side of the tower. She bit her lip and scaled the few dozen feet that remained.

-

Laios—who was bored out of his mind after that god-awful meeting—had found reprieve from said boredom in the form of a bloodied hand coming up to claw at his windowsill.

He gasped and startled up to his feet, grasping reflexively towards where Kensuke rested on his hip before realizing that he'd left Kensuke out in a dungeon. (Nevermind that he was wearing lounge wear instead of armor.) There was some shuffling and then another hand came up, dirtied and smudged with blood under its fingernails. Laios couldn't help the panic and morbid excitement that filled him. Could it have been a zombie? A ghoul? He'd never heard of them having the inclination to scale walls—much less several stories up! Massive changes in its ecosystem often pushed deviations in monster behavior, though. Perhaps it was cornered into finding a new habitat?

But most importantly (and it made his breath shudder oh so sweetly to think of it), if it was near him—a monster—did it mean—could the curse have possibly been—?!

A mop of ash blonde hair bobbed into view, followed by a pair of amber eyes identical to his.

He sunk back into the couch. "Oh. It's just you, Falin."

Falin knitted her eyebrows. "Good to see you too?"

Whatever complaints he had were snuffed out when she pulled herself up and over his windowsill. She looked terrible—covered in blood from what looked to be a shoulder wound. "Falin?" He was quick on his feet, setting a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder with a scowl on his face. The surge of mana to his hand was almost instinctive—seeking to mend together whatever flesh might have still been undone—but she softly pushed him away.

"I'm okay," she reassured. "That's animal blood. I hunted."

"Oh!" What a relief. "Good," he looked out his window curiously. "Why did you come in through the window?"

"Hiding from Marcille," she admitted sheepishly. "Did I leave any spare clothes here by chance? Or could I borrow a shirt? I just need to—" she gestured vaguely towards herself.

There was a knock on his door. The siblings fell silent.

"Laois?"

Their heads whipped towards each other, a panicked stare between them. "That's Marcille," he whispered, grabbing onto her arm. She had grabbed it back.

"I know!"

He looked down at her shirt. "Oh, you've got to hide."

"I'm trying!"

There was another knock, more insistent this time. "Hello, Laios?"

"I know!" He whispered, already pushing her back out the way she came in. "You gotta—" he grunted, giving her a half-hearted shove.

"Brother!” She whined, grabbing onto the edges of the window frame. "Careful!"

"I thought you were good at climbing!"

"Well, I’m bad at falling!”

"Hurry!" He glanced back towards the door. If he didn't answer, Marcille might leave. "I'll keep her here. You can scale the wall to your chambers and get changed."

Falin's eyes widened in understanding, her mouth rounding off into an ‘oh!’. She leaned back out the window and pulled her knees up to her chest. She gave him an apologetic smile. "Thank you!" And then she dropped from view, already back out to scale the castle walls.

Laios cleared his throat. Alright. Time to be brother of the year. And maybe brother-in-law of the year, too. He could tell that Marcille was having a rough day of it. Falin's got something planned, he's sure, but there must be something he could do to help other than just stall. Maybe he'll ask for another magic lesson over some tea—teaching always seemed to relax her. He wondered if—if things were different, would Marcille be an instructor by now? Academia suited her quite well.

He walked to meet her at the doorway. "It's open, Marcille. Come in!"

But then, he supposed this suited her just fine as well. Actually doing magic. Inventing all new kinds of it. Using it to help people firsthand. She'd left behind the books and scrolls to chase magic into the depths of the dungeon, after all. Just like he and Falin did.

Laios could hear the knob turn and click open, followed by the creak of his heavy, oak door.

"Hey, Laois." Her voice was tired and a little defeated. As she looked into the room, slow and tentative, Laios noticed how worn out she was: her ears were low and her shoulders heavy. Between Falin upsetting her that morning, and the meeting they'd had to sit through with the labor party—well. He'd probably be better off not bringing any of it up.

"Did you hear if Falin got back yet?"

Laios gulped. "I—uh—"

"I feel bad." She was still holding onto the door knob. "I've been short with her all day. And with you as well.” She paused, chewing at her lip. “I'm sorry. I know she didn't mean to forget our plans, but it's more than just that, it's like… everything's testing me today."

"Why don't you take a break?" He suggested. "I could make some tea." At Marcille's concerned expression, he hastily added—"the normal kind! I promise."

She smiled, even laughed a bit. "Thanks. That... that would be nice."

"I'm sure she'll be back before you know it," he reassured. "Come on in. She's with Senshi, they'll be fine. You know, I asked them to keep track of any changeling circles while they were out there. I've been thinking about how changeling transformations could actually help us understand monster genetics." She followed as he walked to his sitting room. "It seems like they only transform creatures into adjacent types of species—like humanoids to other humanoids, or the gargoyles to statues. Isn't that so interesting? Nightmares look like little clams that we'd never think of as dragons—and yet, there they are! What else? What if kelpies were actually closer to hippogriffs than horses?"

"Isn't that a little... ethically questionable?" Marcille raised an eyebrow.

Laios blinked in genuine surprise. "I hardly expected pushback from you on the grounds of ethics—"

"Hey!"

"I mean it!"

"I suppose there are merits," she admitted, her shoulders already relaxing.  "Aside from the fever, it seemed relatively painless. The only facts we know so far are that the changes are temporary, that the transformations draw from related flora and fauna, and that mass isn’t conserved. So I guess there goes physics? It isn’t quite as straightforward as reshaping the matter we’re made of.”

"Right! Having a regularly accessible patch of them would be great. It would do much for us in terms of animal and monster husbandry," His voice began to swell in excitement. “I mean, imagine being able to transform oversized livestock into something smaller whenever farmers needed to transport them. Temporary resizing!” There was an undeniable twinkle of interest in Marcille's eye while he talked her ear off. Laios allowed himself a self-satisfied smile—Marcille looked to be effectively distracted from her woes!

But just as he thought things were going well, she froze, her eyes glued to his hand. Damn! He tried to hide it behind his back, but it was too late. "Laois?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" She was rushing forward towards him with a scowl. "Your hand, it's—"

Covered in blood, yes. Likely from Falin's shirt.

He stepped back suspiciously. "It's okay."

"What do you mean?" Marcille was still frowning, but at least she had stopped. She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

"Uhm." Laios stared at the ceiling. "There was... a being." Technically true.

"A being."

"A little guy, yeah." He nodded, swallowed thickly. "It was in trouble."

"So it was bleeding." She paused to consider this. "I'm guessing it was injured?"

Laois looked sideways, beginning to feel sweat under his collar. "Kind of? I helped it."

"You healed it?"

"With my hand." He held it up. She backed away. "Yes."

They stared at each other for another moment still. She finally broke the stretching silence. "Where is it?"

He could feel the prickling heat of panic at the back of his neck. He needed to think of something. Fast. Maybe it escaped out the window? Maybe he could say it was hiding around the room? No, no—Marcille would turn the whole place over just to discover that there wasn't even really an 'it'. Laios tried not to curse, racking his brain for some reasonable explanation that Marcille would believe.

"Laios?"

Something! Anything! Do it for Falin! Marcille was starting to walk towards him, a furrow in her brow. He set his jaw, looked her straight in the eye, and tried his best to keep his voice from cracking while he said:

"I ate it."

It all happened so fast. He didn't even register that the rounded end of Ambrosia was thrust violently into his gut until he heard Marcille's panicked shriek.

"Laios!" She was inching ever closer to a heart-attack every second that passed. Hopefully she wouldn't actually get one—his sister's wrath was rare but formidable!

"Ouch!"

"Spit it out!" she growled, shaking his shoulders. He could feel her fussing over him, her palms buzzing with mana in what he assumed was an attempt to magically detect toxins.

"No!"

Marcille was kicking up a small storm, but that was okay. This was killing time as intended. She rubbed at her temples, already beginning a litany of consequences they'd have to manage if he turned up with food poisoning—again. Something about a dignitary meeting tomorrow, and a public appearance the following day. He didn't worry too much, knowing that there weren't really any gastrointestinal calamities to mitigate, but he was disappointed that her progress towards relaxation had all but come undone—and guilty to have worried her so much.

"I'm fine!" He insisted, holding up his hands (bloody and all) to assuage her.

She was unconvinced. He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding another jab of Ambrosia's rounded end, and only hoped that Falin's plans were going better than his.

-

"Uhm." The new castle guard nudged at his partner. "Are we getting robbed?"

"Huh?"

"Over there," he pointed to the tower that held the royal family's quarters.

His partner squinted his eyes, lifting a gloved hand to cover the sun's glare. He could see... blue? A fluttering blue coat, scuttling around the walls and—ah. "No, we're not. That's Lady Touden."

The new guy whipped his head back. "What?"

"Yeah, she kind of just… does that."

They watched as she leaped upwards in what looked like an impossible feat of strength, her arm outstretched and hanging on a hand hold. They both whistled. She made it look effortless—easy!

"That's pretty awesome."

"I know, right?!"

-

to be continued

-

A/N:

I promise that the second chapter will be a majority of Marcille and Falin interacting fluff! This is meant to be a one-shot, but it kept winding on and on and was generally fun to write, so it's been split into two chapters. I'm a huge fan of some fluffy slice of life goodness so - here's my attempt at making some! The title is inspired by the song "Águas de março" by Antonio Carlos Jobim & Elise Regina (I'm a big bossa fan!). I really encourage y'all to look up the song and have a minute to yourself with a nice beverage to just relax and chill! The song encapsulates how I feel a Farcille marriage would be: a little bit of everything, ups and downs and little hiccups and stretches of bliss - always circling back to the joy in their hearts ^_^ Many, many thank yous to @saltypyrotato who beta-read this chapter. Your feedback is always so insightful! Ur the best! Some notes: In this fic I refer to Falin as a 'Duchess' - I'm not actually sure if I used it correctly buuuuuut it sounds cool soooo yeah!

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Zesty | TP Bumblebee x f!robot reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 1500+

Warnings: Smut ( oral, valve play and spike in valve ) and praise talking. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Love a spicy Bee! This ended up shorter than others but hope it turned out. Enjoy you filthy sinners! 🥰

☕ Coffee

Returning back to Cybertron is such a glorious feeling. You're back home where you belong. As much as you'll miss earth, you couldn't wait to rebuild your world, and start a life with your conjunx endura, Bumblebee.

You've both been together for so long and you've been through a lot together. When he lost his voice you supported him through it, never losing your love for your handsome bug. Over time you got used to his cute sounds, understood him, and it all just became natural. Then he regained it again and you couldn't be happier for him. Hearing his voice again gave off such a thrill, quite sexually, much to your surprise. You forgot just how much you loved that seductive voice.

As much as there is a lot of rebuilding to do, you were pretty anxious to settle with Bumblebee. There has been talk about sparklings of course, but this was delayed because of the long war. Now that it's over, you both had your opportunity, you both couldn't help it anymore and got yourselves some privacy, ending up in your room.

Buzzing moans were like a beautiful harmony between you two, sharing a passionate kiss with your glossa's coiling together, Bumblebee's skilled servos smoothing against your waist as he has you pressed pressed down on the berth, sliding his groin plating between your thighs and sizzling valve cover.

Your servos gently move across his shoulder plating and behind his neck, holding him close as you both continue your deep kiss, frames growing hotter by the second the longer this goes on. As he presses more and you lift your leg up and hook your thigh against his waist, peda gently massaging against his aft earning you a low groan of approval. For a moment the kiss breaks apart just to give you both a moment to let your vents and cooling fans pump through, and you both end up staring at one another before letting out childish giggles as if this was your first time.

"Getting you all heated up just by simple kisses, you must be sizzling all through your valve and channel, silently screaming for me to fill you whole." His words dance through your audios pleasantly making you smile fondly up at him.

"Oh Bumblebee, I've missed your voice, how you talk to me, how you let your voice purr out, it's delightful and very arousing." A dazed gasp escapes from you feeling him press against you again.

"Yeah, I can tell." He then moves his digit over your plump lips and oyu catch onto it, sucking and gliding your glossa against the padded digit, making him let out a deep groan from his chassis. "How about you put that mouth to better use?"

"Gladly." You answer as you let go with a wet pop before switching positions and shoving him down onto the berth, smirking when you take notice of his surprised reaction before smiling up at you eagerly.

Sliding down his frame you tenderly rub his heated panel and watch eagerly as he retracts himself, watching through lustful optics his spike emerge, throbbing hard with trans fluids already leaking and his valve all coated up with sweet honey.

Taking hold of his spike, you give him a couple of bumps, squeezing him a little, earning a throaty moan from him. Using your other servo, you move towards his valve where you gently run your digit between his folds and skipping across his node, causing his frame to jolt slightly through his growing arousal.

"Oh frag, that feels nice." Bumblebee whispers as he watches you eagerly.

"It's about to feel more nice." Sending him a smirk you then lower your helm over his spike, sucking at his tip and circling your glossa around it, before taking more of him in your mouth.

Bumblebee's profound moans gently erupt from his chassis as you slowly start to bob your helm over his throbbing spike, dragging your glossa against his length and teasing along the bumpy ridges, his trans fluids running down your intake making you moan softly.

"Such a good femme, sucking me so well." Bumblebee speaks as he moves his servo to the back of your helm to guide you on him a little more firmly. "You love my zesty honey, want every drop of it. That's it, keep doing that love. You're such a beautiful sight."

His praise is enough to make your valve soak up with even more fluids, building up and even leaking from the corners of your covering, and this gets you to finally retract yourself and descend your servo to touch yourself as you suck his prized spike.

Your skilled digits stroke between your valve lips and circling gently over your sensitive node, moaning around Bumblebee's spike as your own arousal continues to burn up through your frame.

When you remove your mouth from him, you can't help but smirk softly hearing him whimper. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want something else?"

"You're a horrible tease." Bumblebee vents out through a smile. "Yeah, I do want something else, I want your soaking valve sinking down on me."

"So demanding, it's pretty hot." You snicker back, sliding yourself over him and straddling his lap, rubbing your exposed valve along his throbbing length, teasing him further as you press your servos against his chassis.

Bumblebee moans slowly, feeling you sliding along his length, his servos come up to rest against your rocking waist as he gazes up at you with a lustful smile. "You're such an alluring sight."

"Thanks, you're pretty cute yourself." Indeed, he was beyond cute, just so damn sexy.

Finally, you position yourself and slowly sink down onto one, clenching instantly while letting out a soft mewl feeling his stinger stretching through your channel. Once fully seated, you slowly roll your waist against him, earning you a delighted moan from him, watching his optics flicker through his building arousal.

"Feels so snug, so big." You praise through a silky tone, servos resting against his chassis with your digits digging into his armour plating a little. "Oh Bee, my darling Bumblebee, I love you."

"I love you too." He responds back through a heated vent. "I want to fill you so much with my zesty fluids."

"Not so fast though, let us enjoy our moment." Your waist continues to slowly rock against him, drawing out more lingering moans from the both of you, humming in delight as you feel the ridges along his spike rubbing against your inner walls, tip hitting directly against the right spots.

Bumblebee starts to move his waist up with your movements, optics watching you fondly while watching you sink down on him over again in short movements, slowly picking up speed, causing the berth under you both to gently rock under your weights.

"I want so many sparklings." You say between heated vents. "I want a big family."

"A big family we shall have then." Bumblebee wants that as well, to create many little ones of your own. "Little junior bugs, yeah, that sounds pretty good."

Suddenly his servo was against your node, digit rubbing gently against it making you toss your helm back and let out a louder mewl. He's trying to get you to overload quickly, and as much as you want this to last, you both have plenty of time to interface, and you can always keep going over again.

"Frag, frag!" Curses erupt from you as you start to hump down on him through heavy movements, servos now gripping against his shoulder plating as you grind down firmly onto his spike.

Your juices soak through your valve and along his throbbing spike, leaking out against him and the berth below, his digit continues to rub and you let out another outburst, not holding back your vocals in the slightest.

Bumblebee is twitching like crazy, as you feel yourself already approaching your overload too. "Please, love, don't hold back. Let yourself go, let us frag and overload again and again."

His pleading is always adorable, making you beam down at him.

"Alright lovebug. Do it, fill me, soak me!"

His waist meets up with you bluntly a few more times, snapping up wildly and singing out as he releases a large load of warm trans fluids deep throughout your valve. Within moments, you meet with him, clenching down hard and overloading with delightful sparks shooting through your entire frame, loud cries of bliss erupting from you as you arch your back. Both your fluids mix together while you keep yourself on him, rocking slowly, lingering.

Collapsing onto his chassis with a thud you let out a lingering hum that vibrates against him, earning you another throaty moan from him as you feel his servos roaming across your back and down your aft. His touches are addictive, you never want him to stop.

"We're home, finally." Bumblebee says between vents before sharing a subtle kiss with you. Yes, you were, and you couldn't wait to start your family. You silently prayed to primus for your both to be blessed with a adorable little sparkling soon.

"Home."

[good-beanswrites]

THE MIKOTO FALLING DOWN THE STAIRS FIC WAS SO SILLY thats literally how i discovered you, never seen a better fic on my dash..... is there any way you could write something similar where fuuta gets water poured on him like a wet cat. now that i know the prisoners will go to ungoldy lengths to cure their boredome i need more content

LMAO thank you so much!! I so glad you liked it -- and I can assure you I would love nothing more than to pour a bucket of water on everyone's saddest wettest cat -- thank you for the request! 😂

“Everyone knows the greatest way to combat boredom is psychological warfare.” 

Yuno said it very matter-of-fact. Fuuta nodded in agreement.

Es was left to stare blankly at the two prisoners summed before them. “Is that supposed to explain why my panopticon floor is soaked, or why Fuuta is dripping water all over my office…?”

“It started a few weeks ago,” Yuno added, as if that would help.

“What started a few weeks ago?”

Fuuta shrugged. “Like she said. We got bored.”

“You got… bored.”

At last, Yuno explained. It didn’t take long, she told them, for the usual methods of entertainment to lose their charm. Conversations and games could only hold them over for so long. As soon as they lost interest in those things, she knew it was time to give the mental torture route a try. 

“Of course,” Es deadpanned.

“Of course!”

She was an expert at pranks, and from very early on she was able to see that Fuuta would be the perfect nemesis.

You see, everyone else took some time to figure out. She realized Mikoto took the fastest showers and used the most products, so it was easy to swap out one of his bottles just before a rapid wash. His hair was pink for two glorious weeks. She saw that Shidou was as organized as he was independent, so once she started moving and hiding his possessions, it took a long time of searching around in silent, stubborn confusion before he finally caught on. She noticed Muu was particular enough about the way she took her coffee that it only took one tiny tampering and a huge sip was spit directly into Haruka’s face. 

But Fuuta? Oh, Fuuta. There wasn't anything to figure out. He was like Mahiru in that way – what you see is what you get. He was unlike Mahiru in other ways – no one would ever dream of pranking her so often. But Fuuta could walk into a joke like no other. His reactions were just as big and outrageous every time. He was practically asking Yuno to prank him. And when had she ever refused a man?

“Hey!” Fuuta’s ears had gone bright red. “It’s not like I’m some pathetic loser!” He stuck his chin up. “I fought back just fine, don’t you worry.”

(That was, in fact, exactly what Es had been worried about.)

Both he and Yuno found themselves on the receiving end of some scares and fake bugs. They both had to struggle through a mouthful of something disgusting at one time or another. Important possessions went missing right at the very worst time. It was awful, they said. It was infuriating. Unbearable. So, naturally, they kept going. 

Which brought them to today’s stunt. With a little boost from Mikoto to get everything in place, and a captive audience gathered in the panopticon, Yuno pulled it off easily. 

They all peered around the corner at cell 003. Loud snoring echoed from inside, despite the late hour of the morning; Fuuta was the heaviest sleeper of the bunch. Yuno checked that everyone was in place. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Fuuta!” She called urgently. “Come quick! Get dressed, it's Es!” There was clattering around within the cell. It took everything in her to hold in a giggle as she added, “hurry!!” 

The bars swung open, tipping the carefully placed bucket of water above. 

Yuno bid Es to picture the beauty of the moment: the ice-cold water falling in a perfect, glimmering arc as it hit its target with a wonderful splat.

Fuuta froze in the entryway. He was missing a shoe. The half of his uniform he’d managed to get on wasn’t even fastened correctly. It, and the pajamas underneath, were entirely soaked through. His hair clung to his face, darkened and dripping. He swept it aside to reveal, in place of his characteristic fierce gaze, the saddest, most bleary eyes the prisoners had ever seen. His mouth gaped open in confusion. He shivered, flinging little droplets into the massive puddle below.

“I should have requested a camera…” she mused. His grogginess had worn off quickly, but there still existed a single moment where she could have snapped the funniest photo in existence. 

“Fuck off, it wasn’t that funny,” Fuuta clarified.

“Oh, it really was,” Yuno assured them.

Es delivered their scolding. They said this behavior was immature. They would not stand for nonsense like this in their prison. All further pranks and practical jokes were strictly banned. After dismissing the pair, they crossed their arms. 

Damn, they wish they could’ve been there…