#sorry the text needed to be smaller this round

[bunnys-kisses]

retired!price never thought that he'd ever become father. it honestly was only a passing glance throughout most of his life. like if he saw a kid at the grocery store or a colleague had a child. but, that all changed when you met him. there was something about you that got him going. he thought he had too much respect for women, but he felt almost chauvinistic towards you. you were younger, smaller, frailer. you should be at home cooking him dinner and putting the kids to bed instead of working the dreadful customer service job you were at. wouldn't life be better?

think about it, it's okay love. price would take care of everything. anything his angel needed, she got. that included a pretty ring and a round middle full of price brats. when price left where you work with purchases in hand, there was more than one occasion where he'd go back to his car and pleasure himself in the driver's seat. his car parked in the furthest part of the parking lot. alone with his thoughts of you. one baby on your hip and the other in your womb, price coming home to the scent of a warm-cooked meals. nights spent battering your poor soft, spongy womb, keeping it nice and full. you'd be in such contrast with your gruff husband. he stood so much taller than you, he could bruise you with ease. but he only wanted to love you, to feel you take him every night. to see you raise his children. he aiming for a minimum of three, close together in age. he was already looking at places that would be perfect. away from the hustle and bustle of london and somewhere quiet, where his wife would live a comfortable life. in his mind he always thought you were a virgin, pure for him to take apart and make to his liking. you'd be the perfect mrs. price, a phrase that went through his head as he came all over his hand. pearly cum even stained his blue jeans.

doesn't the life that price laid out for you feel perfect? a loving husband, kids, a big piece of land. you weren't going anywhere with this job, wouldn't it be more fulfilling to be married to price? he was retired and would raise your children alongside you. you'd be perfect for him. he wished that you'd see what he saw. something nicer for such a lovely woman.

it took a lot of courage for him to ask you out. it was the first time he felt nervous in a while. you simply giggled, a voice delicate like glass, you broke his head, "oh, sorry sir. i already have a boyfriend!" price just smiled and nodded, he wasn't going to cause a scene. he took his purchases and wished you a great day. but it was hard to pull the man that price was prior to retirement. the man needed a mission like a bloodhound needed prey.

oh, you had a boyfriend. what was his name? where did he live? what did he do for work? when price got his answers he didn't think your boyfriend was good enough. you needed a man, not a little boy who still used his old university i.d. to get discounts. he wasn't going to provide for you. he was weak. so why don't you take out your phone and text him goodbye because price always joked to his former team that he could fit a body in the trunk of his car. while he'd laugh it off, that and the neatly winded rope tucked in the corner were there for a reason.

please, his angel. come with him, he'll always keep you safe.

xoxo, bunny

[trying-harder-then-u]

Johnny's Daddy

Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.

Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.

Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:

"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"

"Sure? What do you need?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.

As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or  something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.

As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the  night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.

That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.

The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.

[boundinparchment]

Fortuna Minor

This is for @threadbaresweater's Summertime (and the livin' is easy) collab event! The chosen prompt was Il Dottore and "starry nights and stargazing" but goes off the rails a little bit to encompass the melancholy of that gap when old friends are left behind (and maybe found again).

On AO3 here || Words: 1563 || Gender-neutral reader, parting of ways, finding friends again. References to Genshin's lore regarding fate and based on the theory that Zandik is Dottore.

The quiet between you and anyone else would be disconcerting, enough to throw off your measurements and interrupt your thoughts.  But that was precisely why you’d invited Zandik out to the open fields tonight. 

You needed to look up at the sky and anchor yourself one more time to the unchanging stars above.

This was your last night.

Tomorrow, you would be somewhere else.  Perhaps in a pocket between leylines.  Or dead.

At some point, the theoretical had to become tangible.  And the only way to know was to try.  You’d defended your third dissertation and now could wander as you pleased with the title of Dashtur, provided your project was approved.

What the Sages didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“I’m sorry I won’t be going with you,” you said, the words so soft you wondered if you only spoke them in your head.

As you pulled your eyes away from the astrolabe to write down measurements, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye.  Blades of grass bent and gave way underfoot, their destiny already predetermined to contain their own semi-destruction.

“Sohreh will miss you,” Zandik replied.

“Sohreh will miss my chai,” you replied, casting a pointed look at him through your lashes.  “Her theories about evolution are contrary to the laws my darshan has established regarding the world we live in.  She does not appreciate my company.”

Not like you do.

Zandik didn’t so much laugh as he did scoff, silence taking his tongue again.  He was not good with sentimental moments and you asked him here knowing that.

Between the three of you, Spantamad and Amurta and Rtawahist came together in a unique way that often put your integrity and ethics in the line of fire; it was not uncommon for darshans to work together but when it came to the child from the forest who was one of the youngest scholars this century…

“The ruins won’t be anything remarkable, I’m sure,” he said at last.  “Not compared to the Primordial Sea that was discussed in those texts of yours.  And certainly nothing like the machines of the desert.  The Eremites speak of technology different from that of the Dahri.  Smaller, more agile devices and creations, utilizing electro energy stores in crystals.  They supposedly convert the beating rays of the sun.”

In the distance, you peered over your telescope and saw the cresting point of King Deshret’s empire.  The light emitted from the pyramid made your work difficult some nights, polluting the sky and ruining the magnificence above.  Special lenses had to be created for various pieces of equipment purely to counteract the phenomenon.

Without them, you wouldn’t have found the corner of the constellation you were looking for.

“Ah, there you are,” you hissed.

You adjusted the pitch and focus before you held up your sextant to measure the coordinates.  After a moment, you continued Zandik’s topic.

“You say supposedly but you speak as if you know.”

Zandik approached, closing the distance, and held a purple crystal set in bronze between his thumb and forefinger.  It was a few inches long, easily rivaling some of the jewels you saw on the Sages’ fingers.

“Where did you—?”

“Caravan Ribat.”

You scrunched your face; it took at least a day to get to the edge of the Wall, let alone a round trip.  It was difficult in a group when there were so many tigers out that way.  A Corp of Thirty escort was often needed if scholars wanted to go that far west.

“The benefit of being an outcast,” he said, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

He was going to get himself killed one day if he kept to himself and continued to look into devices not sanctioned by the Akademiya.  There weren’t many but anything from the desert was considered primitive and not worth the time.  After all, Deshret succumbed to Forbidden Knowledge; he was a prime example of looking too deeply.

“What do you intend to do with it?” you asked as you ignored the hammering of your heart.

“I’ve begun to hypothesize that there might be some compatibility between the mechanisms of the Dahri and Deshret’s creations.  They both rely on elemental energy and pull from the leylines beneath our feet.  But they utilize it differently…Deshret was clearly inspired by those who came before him.  Imagine what might be possible if we could harness that power for ourselves, instead of giving it to machines without cognitive abilities…”

He continued on well into the night, regaling you with ideas while you measured and counted star after star, charting your course.  After all, you needed a map to determine the direction to go in.  

And a memory of this night.  Of him.

As you walked back to the Akademiya, equipment in your arms, Zandik shattered the quiet that came peacefully with a conclusion of a tangent, startling the nearby shroomboar.  It gave a huff but then fell back into a slumber, no doubt dreaming of Zaytun Peaches and Sweetflower.

“You’re onto something, you know.”

“Elaborate,” you chuckled.  “I’ve got at least three ideas bouncing around any given time.”

“Defying fate.  How most think it impossible because the stars never change with the seasons.  Constellations burning out and on occasion, renewing themselves.  Everything is made up of energy, even stars, and the laws of entropy dictate that energy cannot cease existing, it just takes a different form.  And if everything is elemental energy, then the ley lines that house them are veins, no?  Or perhaps roots for something else.  Plants leech their energy from the soil and the sun.”

“Humans are unrooted, though,” you countered.

“Not to the stars.  It is impossible not to look up and stare.  Find a single human who does not take a second every night to look up.”

“It’s a little too abstract just yet.  My expedition should yield some evidence one way or another, as will yours.  I do wish the timing was better.”

Zandik looked up for a second, red eyes scanning the sky and tracing lines that you knew by heart.  His constellation was up there, somewhere, but you learned early on not to pry when he didn’t give his alongside Sohreh and the others.  He kept it close.  And around you, the Rtawahist student who dared to consider that stars should be moveable, that between gravity and the rotation of the world, things should change.

“We’ll meet again.  One way or another,” he said at last.  “Under a different set of stars.”

You could tell from the angle of his head and the purse of his lips that he had more to say.  So much more.  Much like his constellation, he held them back, whatever sentiments he held in his head kept so far under wraps that you were certain not even drink would pry them loose.

He looked at you just once before you parted ways for the night and you buried the selfish pang in your chest to steal him away.  Your work was done here.  

His, on the other hand, had only just begun.

Snow crunched and cracked under your boot as you trekked through the tundra, auroras dancing above you.  Your lungs burned not with excretion but from the frigid climate, so cold that it seared your very bones.

Why had he come here of all places?  Couldn’t he have gone to the desert, where at least the sun showed itself year round?

Hunting down your old companion was something out of a Fontainian murder mystery.  Sumeru changed drastically upon your return and you came to find that traveling through the veins of the world affected not only space but time.  Somehow, Zandik defied the average lifespan and while the trail grew cold, the Eremites in the desert knew the description you provided so vividly that you wondered if you were hallucinating.

Funny.  He left his homeland and yet still maintained a professional connection with the mercenaries of the desert.  A single solitary crumb.

One that, upon your arrival to the facility, made you question if you had enough evidence to back up who you claimed to be.  The human mind eroded quickly after a certain decade and your companion was, well…several centuries old.  

You were taken aback when you recognized short teal hair and an enthusiastic gait, wild gestures and a boisterous tone.  The side of him that only showed itself when your group was deep within a debate and working on weaving various threads together for an idea.

But that wasn’t actually Zandik, you quickly discovered, when you were led to an office that held an air of foreboding.

“You’re not him?” you asked your escort.

“I am, but I’m not.  I remember you but I’ve never met you.  He knew of your arrival hours ago.  The door is open.”

Questions filled your mind and began to overflow but the not-Zandik turned heel and left before you could ask another.  How had a scholar from Sumeru, one accused of various sins in his pursuits of knowledge and accused of the murder of his friend (were they just friends, you wondered), now the Second Fatui Harbinger?  A role that rivaled a Sage, so close to divinity, he might as well have…

You pushed the door open and met a pair of red eyes so striking, you would know them anywhere.

“Hello, Zandik.”

[gracev0609]

Plaything

Josh X Danny X Y/N

WC: 2k

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex, Jealousy, Persuasion, Polyamorous Relationship

Cowritten by my lovely friend @lipstickitty ❤️

The bar was loud with chatter, laughter and music pumping, but Danny could still make out Josh's distinct laughter. He zeroed in on his partner while Josh chatted and flirted with a woman at the bar for the last fifteen minutes.She was laughing too loud at whatever story he was telling her, making sure to put her hand on his bicep. Danny's jaw clenches hard and he sees red when Josh locks eyes with him over her shoulder as he pushes a stray piece of her hair behind her ear.

Danny gripped his pint glass tightly in his fist, shooting back the rest of his now warm beer before getting up making his way towards Josh. Josh, who was supposed to be on a date with Danny.

Danny stood right behind Josh, his chest against his back, towering over the smaller man,” I thought you were going to get us another round babe. Who's your friend?”

Josh cranes his neck to look at Danny,”Oh! This is Steph, she's a fan of mine!”

Danny's eyes narrowed slightly at the use of the word mine, Josh giving him a little smirk back.

Danny places his hand on Josh's hip, his fingers finding their way into the opening of his pants pocket,” Of yours huh?”

Subtly Josh backs his ass into Danny's crotch, knowing the game he's playing very well, making sure Danny is pissed enough to give it to him exactly how he needs it.

“Yeah Hun, Steph here said I'm her favorite and asked if she could get us a shot. So I'll be back to our table soon!”

Danny seethed, being dismissed too easily when he was promised a nice night out with his lover. Through clenched teeth he tells the girl it was nice to meet her and orders one more beer. After getting his beverage he stomps back to the table he's been inhabiting alone for the better part of the evening, pulling out his phone and scrolling through socials. Picture after picture of his friends having a great Saturday night with their friends and lovers mock him. He contemplates texting Y/N, but he decides she doesn't need to know about his less than stellar evening.

Josh saunters back to the table with a partially emptied cocktail in his hand,”You ready to go after your drink?”

Danny clenches his jaw for the umpteenth time this outing,”Yeah Josh. All ready to go.” He tilts his head back, guzzling the rest of his fresh beer before setting it down on the table harder than intended.

“Finish your drink Joshua.”

Josh feels his blood travel south as Danny goes to settle their tab. Danny is pissed and that's exactly how Josh wants him.

Once in the car Danny's navigating their way home with a set jaw, and one hand gripped in the wheel. So far he's been silent, the tension in the air causing Josh to shift in his seat subtly pressing his palm to his erection.

Danny barks,” You had a fun night. Are you palming yourself because of that girl or because you know you're about to be punished.”

Josh whips his head towards his love,” No! Not.. not because of Steph.”

“Oh! You remember her name.”

“I mean she was a nice girl Daniel, that's it.”

Daniel's nostrils flare,” She's not so nice when she had you ignoring me for most of the night!”

Josh slinks back into his seat, Danny's booming voice shaking him slightly. He felt himself twitch in his pants, maybe it was a bit twisted but Danny's anger was turning him on immensely.

Josh places his hand on Daniel's thigh, feeling the tension radiating off of him,” I'm sorry baby, really I am.”

“Whatever Josh. When we get home your ass better go straight to our bedroom.”

Josh lets out a breath quietly muttering,” Yes sir.”

The rest of the drive was silent besides the low hum of the tires on the road. Once home he threw the car into park, quickly getting out of the vehicle with Josh following him dutifully. Danny tossed his keys into the catch all tray next to the door in the foyer before storming to the bedroom. Josh caught Y/Ns eye from her place on the couch. She furrows her brow, “What happened Josh?”

Josh giggles, grabbing her hands helping her off the couch,”Dates not over yet baby. Come on.”

She catches the way his smile turns slightly wicked,”Oh? You pissed him off on purpose. What a bad boy Josh.”

Josh leads her to the bedroom where they find Danny already shirtless with a pair of restraints in his hands. Twisting and turning the material in his fingers, staring at them in his grasp.

“Strip and get on the bed Josh.” Danny softened his gaze looking at his other love,” Hi baby. I wanna eat your pretty pussy, how does that sound?”

She nods her head, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. Danny lovingly cups her jaw, stroking his thumb against her cheek. He turns his attention to Josh, making his way to the head of the bed.

“Give me your wrists.”

Josh presents his wrists to him, his eyes soft waiting to see what Daniel has in store for him. Danny loops the fabric around his wrists securing them tightly, perhaps a little too tight, before securing them to the headboard.

“Stay put and watch.”

Turning towards his love,”Y/N sweetie, how about you sit in the armchair, that way he can watch us.”

She sits down, scooting her hips to the edge of the chair and Danny kneels in front of her immediately removing her lounge pants. Josh watches as Danny immediately dives his tongue into her folds making her yelp, the obscene audio making him fully harden.

“Fuck Danny!” She groans as he focuses all his frustrations into eating her out like a starved man desperate for a meal. Motion on the bed catches her attention, and she bites her lip as she watches Josh flex his hips into nothing. He's aching for attention. He's hard and leaking as he continues to writhe on the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he silently begs to touch or be touched.

She pulls on Danny's hair, easing him off of her a bit,” Danny… he needs attention.”

Danny sucks her labia into his mouth quickly before detaching to respond,” No.”

He buries his tongue in her folds once again.

Shakily she breathes,” You can't ignore him Danny, that's mean.”

He removes his mouth from her once again, his eyes cold,” Oh? Like the way he ignored me all night to flirt? He can watch.”

Danny turns his attention to Josh for the first time since he bound his wrists,” How does it feel to watch Josh?”

A quiet whine slips from Josh's lips, and he clenches and unclenches his fists. His legs tense and relax, he's so worked up.

Danny softly coos to Y/N,” Want you to cum on my tongue okay baby? I need to taste how sweet you are.”

Danny thrashes his head side to side, tongue lapping across her clit over and over. Finally her body tenses and releases, Danny growls as she cums on his tongue, exactly what he wanted.

A small,” Please Danny” comes from the bed.

“Mmm, no. I don't think you've earned it yet baby.”

Josh looks at the ceiling, willing the tears away, and Y/N takes pity on him. She makes her way to the side of the bed, kissing him softly as Josh immediately deepens it before Danny pulls her back and they both cry out.

“Enough! Y/N you know he's being punished for his behavior, don't make me punish you too.”

“Please, I need something! I'm so hard, I've been hard. It hurts, please I need… I need relief.” Josh pleads with tears fully streaming down his cheeks.

“Please Danny, I love you! I wanted you to claim me not forget about me.”

Y/N speaks up,”Danny look at him!”

She takes in his tears on his cheeks, his body flushed red, and his cock throbbing.

“He's fine Y/N.”

This isn't going the way Josh intended, at all. He has one more idea to try to get his way, after all he was looking forward to Danny's hand wrapped around his throat not being tied up and left wanting.

Josh chokes out a sob,”I'm not having fun anymore.”

Immediately Danny’s eyes soften and he unties his wrists,”Oh, baby I'm so sorry.”

He kisses his red raw skin on his wrists, before cupping his face in his hands,” I love you. I'm sorry Josh, do you want to stop?”

“No, just touch me. Please.”

“Absolutely baby, anything you want.”

Danny wastes no time peppering his face with kisses, tangling his hands into Josh's curls. Y/Ns hands run up and down the land of Josh's torso making his stomach muscles flutter with the teasing touch.

Josh preens at the feeling of both of his lovers hands and mouths all over his body. His fingers tangle with Y/Ns capturing her attention,” Lovie…. My cock, it needs attention. Needs your mouth.”

Quickly she kisses down Josh's body, taking his aching length into his mouth. Josh melts into the mattress, finally receiving relief.

“Does that feel good, my love? Finally getting what you needed.” Danny croons into the hot skin of Josh's neck.

Josh rapidly nods his head moaning out as pleasure builds quickly within his body with each flex of his hips. Much quicker than he was expecting. Josh grabs at Danny's hand, bringing it to his throat,” Can I cum Danny?”

Danny securely squeezes the sides of Josh's throat, exactly the way he likes it,” Yeah baby, you can cum. You've earned it.”

“Do it Josh, I want it,” Y/N says from below, her voice gruff from the abuse her throat has taken. She wraps her lips around his head, hollowing out her cheeks taking him down as far as she can. Josh digs his nails into Danny's forearm as his eyes roll back. His back arches and a moan squeaks out from his throat as he finally releases. She swallows down all he has to offer, her tongue lapping at his cock until he's a twitchy mess.

“Fuck! I'm so sensitive.” Josh pants.

His love crawls back up his body as he takes a deep breath still coming down from his high. She nuzzles her face into his neck, kissing the now damp skin,”Do you feel better baby?”

He nods, reaching for the prominent bulge in Danny's pants.

“Let me make up for what happened at the bar.”

Danny rolls onto his back Josh eagerly pulling his pants and underwear down, letting his cock spring free. No sooner than removing his clothing from around his ankles Josh was eagerly sucking him down.

“For fucks sake Josh,” Danny groans, throwing his head back into the pillow.

Y/N finds Danny's mouth, her lips connecting with his. He immediately deepens it, prodding his tongue into her mouth. Pleasure floods Danny's body as Josh bobs his head faster, cupping his balls with his hand. Panting, Danny bites down on her lips, whining into her mouth as he comes undone. Once Danny has come down, Josh gently pulls off of him. He places wet hot kisses to the inside of his thighs, nuzzling into Danny's skin he sighs,” Nectar from the Gods.”

Josh resumes his place in the middle of the bed, sandwiched between the loves of his life,”So…. I have a confession to make.” He turns his head looking towards Danny,” I pissed you off on purpose, and I said I wasn't having fun on purpose. I- I wanted this, I wanted you to spoil me.”

Danny's jaw drops,” Wait?! You're fucking me. You- you! What the hell Josh I felt bad! And you just wrapped me around your finger getting whatever you want.”

Josh intertwines their fingers together,” But I love youu!”

Fin.

[oddballwriter]

Extra Credit

Summary: You and Steven decide to do some roleplay in the bedroom.

Warnings: Teacher/student relationship ROLEPLAY. Roleplay kink/roleplay for sex. Gender, pronouns, and sex anatomy of the reader is not specified but they are the one doing the penetrating (you can envision it as a dick or a strap-on. Male/Character receiving penetration. Steven being a bottom. Praise kink (character receiving). Dom reader/Sub Steven. 

Author’s Snip: I was originally going to have the reader in the 'sub' roles for this but after someone gave me the idea to have Marc in the sub role for his part of the roleplay I decided that all three of them get to be the sub roles because they deserve to be submissive for once. I also was planning on having all three of the boys together but I decided that I'm going to give you all a treat and give you separate ones of the boys for this idea.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,614

Checking that your outfit and things are right you send Steven a text that you're ready and waiting on him. You hear a knock on the front door of the flat, you know that means that the scene has begun. You take a breath to get into character and walk your way to the door from the desk, opening it to reveal Steven.

"Hello, professor." Steven smiles, nervously standing. You sense that the nervousness is from having to keep to his role but treat it like it's part of the roleplay. "Hello, Steven," you greet with a warm smile, "Come on in. I'm glad you could make it," you say as you step aside to let him in. "Well, you know, it's a bit important," Steven says as he walks in and stands just inside the flat instead of going someplace more inside the flat. After all, this is 'your' place in this scenario. "That it is." you respond.

After a brief moment and a slightly awkward glance from Steven he finally speaks, "I'm very sorry to have to come to you in your own home. I know I'm meant to see you during your office hours." he states. "It's alright, Steven. Usually, I do have students talk to me outside of class during office hours only but I figured you would be a worthy exception," you claim. "Here," you place a hand on his lower back and gently guide him around, grabbing a chair from another spot and setting it next to, his, your desk, "Make yourself comfortable.".

Steven nods and sits down in the chair, your hand slides up from his back to his shoulder as he does so. "Would you like something to drink?" you ask, "Water, tea, coffee, a glass of wine maybe? You seem a bit tense." you list with a bit of a joke at the end. Steven gives a timid laugh and says no. You nod and move towards the desk chair to have a seat, in the process, your hand leaves Steven's shoulder which irks a micro reaction out of him that you ignore.

You pull up a fake grade sheet that you made for this role-play to pretend to look at and be fake disappointed by. You sigh, "I'll be honest with you Steven. Your grade doesn't look too good. You're just under the bar for a passing grade." you explain to him. "I know," Steven mumbles. "I want to say that I'm willing to round it up but it's low enough that that's not possible," you claim while giving him a pitying look. "You're a clever man and a very well-mannered student, Steven." you place a hand on his knee, "I hate to see you struggling so, especially so close to the end of the course," you mention.

"Is there anything I can do?" Steven asks before clearing his throat, "I need to pass this to get the credits in." he tells you with his little doe eyes. You notice him crossing his legs, something he does when he has an erection and wants to hide it but in the process he makes himself smaller. You move in closer.

"Do you think I could do something for extra credit? Something that could make it to the range where you can round it up, or... something?" Steven stammers. You can see the blush on his face and sense the heat radiating off his body by touching his thigh. You bite your lip and keep going. "I wish I could but I don't do extra credit, you know that," you say.

"Maybe you could make another exception for me," Steven suggests with a labored huff. You look at him, seeing his red blushed cheeks and seeing the look in his eyes. He's definitely becoming more comfortable with this judging by his stammering turning into the lightly pitch strained tone that he gets when he's turned on.

"Steven," you mutter, "You're awfully tense and warm." you say as you touch his forehead and chest, "Are you alright?" you fake your concern more and get up to get him some water.

"Are you sure I can't do anything to get you to give me some point?" he huffs abruptly as he leans into the touch a bit as it leaves.

You act like you just realized what he's getting at. "I don't think that would be right," you say making your tines more clearly faked as you say "Students and professors aren't supposed to be doing things together outside of the normal relationship they're meant to have.". You start to massage his shoulder a bit, your touch going from 'accidental' to teasing. Steven crosses his legs tighter, "I won't tell if you won't, professor.".

  It’s off to the races from there. A kiss turns into a sloppy one, into Steven grabbing at whatever he can on your body and you the same but also taking on leading him into standing up and stumbling around. Steven lets you lead the way to the bed but has dropped the part about not knowing the layout of the flat, which you don’t mind, wanting the same thing he does. 

  You lay Steven on the bed, on his back, bending over him, and stood between his legs so that he couldn’t close them. Your mouth moves from his lips to his neck to gently kiss and suck at certain spots as your hands paw and grip at his waist and hips, Steven letting out soft moans as you do so. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can just give you the points if you want to change your mind,” you whisper in his ear. “Keep going.” he pleads through a breath, gripping at the waist of your pants. “Don’t rush it, Steven. I’m not going to just take what I want.” you say as you lift your head to look at him, “I don’t want to hurt my favorite student after all, hm?” you hum. 

  More sloppy kisses are given before you carefully unbutton his shirt and then open the button of his pants, gliding your hands on his hot skin causing him to squirm. “You’re so sensitive.” you chuckle, “Are you always like this?” you ask, slowly coaxing his pants off as you talk. Steven nods, turning away to hide his face. You use one of your hands to make him look back at you, “Don’t be shy about it. It’s cute.” you coo. “It makes me wonder how sensitive it is inside of you.”, you push another kiss on the pulse of his neck and feel his heartbeat through his skin. 

  You get his pants and briefs off, revealing his aching cock, already collecting precum on the tip. Without much thought, you move down to lick it off which earns a loud whine from the poor Steven. You decide that you don’t want to torture him any longer and back away to get ready. After fumbling around and placing lube, you go back to being over him, lining up with Steven’s entrance. “Are you ready?” you ask, Steven nods and so you push into him slowly, “Just relax for me.” you direct. Very slowly, you push in and out of him letting him get used to the feeling. Soon his soft grunts turn back into moans. 

  “There you go.” you praise. 

  Steven covers his mouth to hide his moans as you speed up to a regular pace. “Why are you hiding your moans? I want to hear you,” you tease as you go in deeper, making Steven let out an audibly loud moan even with his hand muffling it. Steven takes his hand away to say “I don’t want anyone else to hear~” in a whine. You take to opportunity to catch his hand with yours while you thrust into him, pinning his wrists above his head and using one hand to keep them there while your other hand goes back to holding his hips steady. “They won’t care. They don’t need to know you’re getting fucked for a better grade.” you taunt. 

  As you keep going moans and loud whines fall out of Steven. You’re sure that at this point no one cares when you two have sex, probably having gotten used to tuning out the muffled sound of Steven getting it through the walls.  

  At a certain point, you both get more desperate, your thrusts get sloppier and Steven, now too preoccupied with the pleasure he’s receiving, is bucking his hips to try and get more by trying to move with you. The hand that was holding Steven’s wrists is gone but Steven doesn’t cover his mouth with them now. Now he digs his nails into your back for dear life as he tries to get to his release. “Keep going! Please~” he begs, “I’m close!” he claims. “ I know,” you reply, “I’m almost there too.”. 

  Steven starts to let out more high-pitched whines and arch his back, you just keep going, knowing that he’s getting ready to come. “Come on, Steven,” you pant, “Let it all out for me. Come for me like you want that grade.” you encourage. He takes your harsher near-climax thrusts.

  “You’re being such a good boy.” you praise.

  And like you snipped a rubber band, Steven’s body lets him come at your words. He rides it out while you thrust out your own and finish. Both of you are sweating panting messes snapping out of the daleriam you put yourselves in. 

After catching your breath you look back at Steven. “That was fun,” you comment as you kiss his cheek. “We should try this again sometime.”. Steven nods. 

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[katnisspeetaprim]

Little Sister

SKZ!OT8/Reader, Brother!Jungkook/Sister!Reader

Summary: Jungkook's little sister is the only female member in Stray Kids. You loved your group and group mates, but online threats cause panic...

A.N. So this is just a one off and not connected to anything else on may page, though if you guys like this then I can deffo do more for this AU!

Word Count: 2278 M.list

You were stood on stage with your group mates, laughing and messing about. The company was holding special events to promote the new album, 5-Star, which involved a lot of public appearances and performances.

You were sandwiched between Han and Lee Know for the talking segment of the show. You loved doing shows like these with a smaller audience and relaxed choreography. It always felt more intimate and gave more opportunity for you to interact with the fans.

For this particular event, JYP had hired a couple more security guards than usual, because of a threat circling about you online. Of course you were worried, but this kind of thing happened to idols more often than you’d like to admit. Chan  wasn’t really happy about the amount of security considering the threat. Even with the extra guards, there were still only about 5 guys dotted around the venue, considering it was a smaller show, so this naturally had all the guys on high alert.

Honestly, they were probably more concerned than you were! To be completely honest, you were on the verge of a panic attack when you were first shown the treats so you did what any girl would... Call your big brother for help.

When you first told Jungkook that you would be debuting as the only girl in a group with 9 other boys (at the time) he was understandably unconvinced.

He’d seen first hand the horrors of the idol industry, and knew that some idols weren’t as squeaky clean as they presented themselves to be, so he was scared that his little sister would be put into a position she didn’t want to be in.

He came round eventually though, when you explained how Chan had fought to the bone for you to be in the group, and how close you’d become to the other boys in such a short amount of time. He knew you were in safe hands.

‘Oppa... I shouldn’t worry right?’ You’d locked yourself away in the bedroom, not wanting the boys to hear your fearful phone call.

‘This has happened to BTS too remember? And nothing happened to us. Are your managers increasing security?’ Jungkook had come to expect your phone calls over the years, always coming to him for advice and comfort, which he was always more than happy to give.

‘They are... But it’s only a small venue, so there will only be a few anyway.’ You trailed off, trying to not let the nerves get to you. ‘I wish you could be there. It would really help...’ He sighed down the phone at your request.

‘I would if I could Y/N, trust me. But I can’t be too far from the office right now with my single coming out soon.’ He really did sound sorry he couldn’t be there to support you, but you also knew that he thought you were over reacting, you could tell by the firm tone in his voice.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry. You should focus on your song.’ Jungkook frowned to himself. That wasn’t what he meant at all. He really did want to support you, but he really couldn’t travel right now. His song would be coming out soon and he needed to be there for any kind of meeting or practice BigHit needed him for.

‘Y/N, you know I-‘

‘Don’t worry!’ You cut him off, trying to sound cheery, but he wasn’t fooled. ‘I’m being silly. Talk later!’

‘Wai-‘ Jungkook stared at the phone in shock. You’d never hung up on him like that before. He knew calling you back probably wasn’t the best idea, so he settled for sending you a text instead.

Big Bro

I’m not stupid Y/N, I know you’re upset. Please don’t think I’m putting my song above you, it’s not like that.

I’m always gonna be there for my little sister, please remember that...

It was the day of the concert and you still hadn’t text Jungkook back, not really feeling the motivation to do so, even though he sent you another text that morning.

Good luck today! Let me know how it goes!

Everything was going perfectly fine so far, and you’d pretty much forgotten what you were so scared about, until it came time to perform S-Class.

You jogged to the right side of the stage where Hyunjin was standing. You wrapped your arms round his waist so you could rest your head on his shoulder. Hyunjin laughed and also wrapped his arm round your shoulders. The crowd in front of you began to go wild at the display of skinship between the two of you.

Just as you pulled away, you had the wind knocked out of you as a body collided with your own. At first, you thought it was just one of the other guys forgetting their own strength, until you heard the horrified gasps and screams coming from the crowd.

Before you could even react, hands were around your neck and squeezing unforgivingly, effectively cutting off your air.

All you could do was stare up at the strange man wide eyed and gasping for air, as you scratched at his arms. Time suddenly seemed to speed up as the man was ripped away from you, leaving you a shaking and sobbing mess on the ground, and still somehow unable to breathe.

All the boys gathered around you in an instant, with Chan and Seungmin crouched at your sides. Chan was saying something to you, but your ears were ringing and all you could focus on was the man being dragged away by security, all while kicking and screaming that he was going to kill you.

In reality, he’d only been on you for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity...

‘We should mover her out of view. The crowd are scared...’ Han whispered to Chan as your manager quickly ran on stage.

‘Get her up! We have medics backstage!’ He demanded of Chan who was closest to you. He picked you up with ease and ran off stage with you, whilst the other boys followed behind.

Your manager and the host addressed the crowd, basically saying that you were being looked after, but the show was cancelled and they would be given a full refund.

Backstage in the dressing room, you’d devolved into a full blown panic attack. The two medics were hurriedly working and trying their best to calm you down and get air into your lungs with a mask. It didn’t help that the staff had forced the boys to stand outside the cramped room. Only Changbin managed to argue enough to be allowed in. He sat beside you and rubbed your back soothingly as you tried to calm down.

‘Keep using the mask Y/N, but I need to see your neck.’ Changbin could only stare in horror as the medic lifted your chin, and revealed dark purple bruises circling your neck. He couldn’t believe a person could do so much damage in so little time...

Changbin looked up when their manager approached the door.

‘He’s been arrested. We’re pressing charges.’ Changbin’s head snapped towards you when he heard your shaky, wheezy voice trying to say something.

‘What?’ He asked, leaning in to better hear you. With the pain in your neck and the panic only now subsiding, it was hard to talk.

‘Broth-‘

‘Brother? You want someone to call your brother?’ You nodded, thankful that he understood what you were saying.

‘Ok. I’ll be right back.’ He reassured you as he got up.

‘Chan, you have Jungkook’s number right? She’s asking for him.’

‘Yeah of course. Tell her I’ll call him now.’ Changbin nodded and threw a thumbs up, before retreating back to you.

Chan excused himself to a quieter part of the hallway to make the call. Jungkook answered pretty quickly.

‘Hey Chan! It’s been a while.’

‘Yeah, Just wish I was calling you under better circumstances.’

‘What? What do you mean?’ Chan could hear the confusion in his voice. Chan paused before sighing.

‘Y/N was attacked on stage.’ Jungkook was silent so Chan quickly jumped back in. ‘She’s... Well she’s not ok. She’s really shaken up and her neck is bruised, but we got the guy.’

‘Wha- I don’t understand how this could happen?’ Jungkook stuttered out as he started to loose his cool. He knew you were nervous about the show today, but he was sure it was just going to be an empty threat...

‘Does it have anything to do with the threats online?’ He asked hesitantly.

‘We don’t know.’ Chan sighed once again and cast his eyes to look back at the crowded doorway. ‘Look man, she’s asking for you.’

‘I’ll be there asap. Are you taking her back to the dorms? I’m a few hours away.’ Chan gave him all the details. He knew the man was busy, so he was glad he was putting you first.

‘How is she?’ Chan spoke quietly to Hyunjn as he returned.

‘She’s calmed down a lot more now. They want to take her to the hospital for her neck, but she won’t go....’ Hyunjin trailed off. He was also shaken up from the event, he was stood right next to you after all. From the force the man crashed into you, Hyunjin had also been knocked over, but he managed to escape with just a scraped elbow.

‘No point causing her more stress in that case...’ Chan breathed out. ‘Her brother is meeting us back home.’

‘That’s good. I think they are getting ready to leave now.’

As soon as you got home, you retreated to your bedroom, wanting to be alone, against better judgement.

‘’Y/N?’ Felix knocked softly on the door so as to not startle you. ‘I have some ice for your neck. It’ll help with the bruising.’ He frowned when you didn’t answer, but he wouldn’t invade your privacy by just walking in. He was about to admit defeat, when Jungkook suddenly appeared in the hallway, hurrying towards your door.

‘Hey, your door was unlocked. Is he in there?’

‘Yeah but she’s not answering. I bought her some ice.’ Jungkook took the ice bag from his hands.

‘I’ll make sure she uses it. Thanks for looking after her.’ Jungkook gave a grateful nod, before briefly knocking the door and pulling it open.

‘Y/N it’s me, I’m coming in.’

You bolted upright in bed when you heard your brothers voice.

‘Oppa! You actually came!’ Jungkook paused in the door way, offended look on his face.

‘You thought I wouldn’t?’ He scoffed as he sat next to you on the bed.

‘You’re busy...’ You trailed off, looking anywhere but at him. Jungkook shook his head and bough the ice pack to your neck. You jumped at the sudden cold, but you let him continue.

‘I’m sorry I ever made you feel I didn’t care. You’re my baby sister.’ You nodded sadly. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You turned and threw your arms around your brother, as the tears began to fall again.

‘Oppa I was so scared!’ He dropped the ice in shock, before coming back to his senses and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

‘It’s ok. You’re safe now.’

‘He could have had a knife or something worse.’ You wheezed out, unable to stop yourself from fearing the worst. Jungkook swallowed a lump in his throat to suppress his anger.  You and Jungkook had the typical brother/sister relationship. As children you were never really close, despite your close age. He would take any opportunity to tease you, but at the end of the day he was still your big brother, which made him your protector by default.

‘He didn’t. Don’t think about what if’s. It’ll only make you feel worse.’ He stroked your back in an attempt to calm you down. In the back of your mind you knew you should listen, but it wasn’t that easy.

‘I don’t know if I can go back on a stage any time soon...’ You whispered, shaking slightly.

‘Nobody’s gonna force you until your ready.’ He pulled back and looked you in the eye. ‘I promise.’ You swallowed but didn’t say anything.

‘Plus I’m sure Chan would have something to say if your uncomfortable.’ You smiled softly and nodded. It was true that Chan was extremely protective over all of SKZ, so if you weren’t ready, he would make sure you were accommodated.

‘Please try to stop thinking about it. It’s breaking my heart seeing you like this.’ You let out a strangled laugh and nodded.

‘Thank you for coming down here for me.’ You wiped your eyes now that the tears had stopped.

‘My members have been asking about you by the way.’ You perked up at his words. You’d met the other BTS members a lot over the years, and it was always a fun time when you would hang out together.

‘Yeah, the articles were pretty fast to appear, so they’ve been texting m none stop!’ You smiled. He knew that would cheer you up, to know that people care about you. Even though that was never in question, after all you had your boys and friends from different idol groups, but it just hit different when people reached out to you. ‘By the way...’ He trailed off sheepishly, causing you to frown. ‘Get ready for a bombardment of calls from mom and dad. They’ve seen everything.’ You groaned out and lay down on the bed, causing Jungkook to laugh. You had hoped that you could keep them in the dark, not wanting them to worry, but looks like that was out of the window.

[guppygiggles]

Like Real People Do, Part 8! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Avery's cloud form starts to emerge in public. Casper takes quick action to try and save him. Big crying scene -- BIGGER tickle scene. This fic is outrageously self-indulgent, even for me.

☁️ Warnings: Ler!Avery fans... this one is for you. Unspeakably, desperately vulnerable. Lots of crying. Discussion of trans (ftm particularly) topics. Men in their underwear (no genital nudity). If you can get through the emotions, I reward you with the biggest, teasiest Ler!Avery scene you can imagine. This is not NSFW, however… it is very suggestive. If you skip to the end... well, I just can't believe you! (Just kidding, read this however you want.💙)

☁️ Author's Note: I discuss being a demiboy/FTM pretty intimately here. Importantly, I do not claim to speak for every demiboy/gay/FTM/trans person. I am not a gender studies major, this is just my experience, and I do not have to justify it to anyone. Do not come in my messages/ask box with critical language about how I describe my experience. If you do, I will immediately block you.

This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 *you are here

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

My eyes frantically scanned the storage area. Luckily, it was vacant, at least for now. 

Gary's Market was a relatively small grocery chain, and the stockroom was clean and well-organized. Large shelving racks stood in rows that reached the ceiling, and a small handful of pallets waited to be unloaded. Above us, rows of fluorescent lights hummed softly. 

“Look for an exit,” I whispered, still grasping Avery's wrist. 

“Casper, I'm so sorry-” 

“Shh, no time for that now, let’s just get out of here.” I let go of him, walking to the end of the entryway and peeking around the nearest shelving unit. At the end of the hallway, past several rows of goods, was a glowing red exit sign. 

“Oh, thank god. Let's go,” I turned back to Avery. 

My blood ran cold. 

I had not seen the employee who was approaching us; perhaps he had been in an adjacent aisle when we entered, had found what he needed, and was returning to the sales floor. Avery was still standing in the doorway, and as soon as the man rounded the corner, they would be face-to-face. The brunette twenty-something held a jar of peanut butter in one hand, and the only reason he hadn't seen me yet was because he was holding his phone in the other, texting with his thumb. 

There was still space between us, but not so much that I couldn't read his nametag: David. “Hi, my name is David!” I imagined the smaller print said. It was difficult to believe the bored-looking youth, with his wrinkled uniform and beat-up Vans, would ever introduce himself that way. 

Avery wasn't looking at me. If I called to him, the clerk would certainly hear. If I moved, I was sure to catch David's peripheral; he would see me, and then he would see Avery. There was nothing I could do; David was about to ruin my life. 

What would happen, then? Would he scream? Would he pass out, as I almost had the first time I saw Avery? Would he tell his boss, then his family, then the news? His phone was already out – what if he took pictures? I imagined Avery's terrified face on CNN, Twitter, Tiktok. A cold sweat broke out all over my body as my insides twisted, a metallic taste filling my mouth. Was I really going to lose him – and like this? 

Suddenly, Avery moved, his feet shuffling on the concrete floor as he widened his stance. His hands extended outward, fingers spread and clawed, as if he were preparing to grapple someone. His fingertips began to glow. 

Was he going to attack this man?! My heart raced. 

“Oh god, Avery, no!” I screamed internally. Whatever I imagined might happen to Avery would be infinitely worse if he harmed someone. He wouldn't just be captured and studied, he'd be killed. My blood pressure plummeted. I tightened my grip on the storage rack; I was about to collapse. 

Then, the sound of crackling electricity filled the air. Until that moment, I hadn’t known electricity could sound like fire. A series of deafening pops rang out, followed by a blinding flash – then glass rained down on us as every lightbulb in the room exploded. 

“What the fuck!” David cried as he dropped his phone. 

Before I could react, I felt a cold hand on my arm, guiding me down the hallway toward the exit. The sign itself had gone out, too, but I could barely make out where sunlight seeped through the cracks. My knees were weak as Avery pulled me through the door and into the bright daylight, practically tripping over my own feet as I tried to regain my bearings. 

The alley behind Gary's was empty, except for a pair of dumpsters and a few broken wood pallets. It was a clear day, and on the other side of the building, my car was right in the middle of the parking lot. We weren't out of the woods, yet. 

I pulled Avery behind the dumpsters. His face was a mask of emotions I had never seen on him: guilt, shock, desperation. Fingers trembling, he carefully picked a piece of glass out of my hair. I could tell he was about to say something; I cut him off, cupping his cheek with my hand. 

“Avery, stay right here. I'm going to bring the car around, okay? Stay right here behind this dumpster. I'll be right back.” I turned away before he could respond, jogging to my car as my heart shattered to leave him in such a state. 

As I got in my car, I glanced at the store's entrance. The lights were on; I guessed the sales floor was on a different breaker than the warehouse. That was good – the less people who saw the lights go out, the better. I sped around back and parked next to the dumpster. Avery was right where I left him, huddled in a ball, face hidden in his hands. 

“Hey, hey, it's okay… you're okay, you're safe now,” I comforted as I helped him into the back seat. Luckily, my car windows were tinted – practically a necessity in the desert where I was from. Afraid that David (or really, anyone) might come out the exit, I got in the driver's seat and pulled around to a secluded parking area. I climbed into the back, kneeling on the seat beside Avery as I put my hand on his shoulder. It was then that I realized just how small he was – I guessed he had shrunk to my height, maybe even shorter. He was still hiding his face in his hands. 

“Avery… are you okay? I'm so sorry. I should have set an alarm… This is all my fault.” 

“Casper, I'm- I'm- I'm so s-sorry!” He broke into a sob, his shoulders trembling as tears leaked out from under his hands. I saw, too, that the flat bottom of his head was dark and puffy. Water gushed from him, soaking his clothes. He wasn't just crying, he was raining.

“Oh my god, Avery, it isn't your fault! None of this is your fault!” I put my arms around him, hugging him into my chest. I hated to cry, especially when I was trying to comfort someone else, but I couldn't help it; my eyes stung as tears streamed down my cheeks, too. 

“I- I should have known. I- I put you in danger,” he choked, his square glasses falling into his lap as he rubbed his pale eyes. He was completely soaked – so was my car seat – and as he cried, he was shrinking quickly. I panicked. 

“You're shrinking! Avery, please stop crying! We're safe now, okay? I'll get you something to drink, alright? I'm not mad – at all – and I'm SO sorry. God, this is all my fault…” My stomach churned with regret. How could I have been so thoughtless? When we first met, I always set a timer on my phone, just to make sure we never ran out of time. As we’d grown closer, I'd become more and more lax. It had never been an issue before today, but now, my carelessness could have cost Avery his life. How could I live that down? 

He looked up, then, to meet my eyes for the first time. Gently, he tucked a wisp of damp hair behind my ear. “Casper, i-it's not your fault, either. I know today was different from usual, there's no way you could have known. Please… don't cry,” he sniffled. “My heart breaks when you cry.” 

“You don't cry! My heart breaks when you cry! So put that in your juice box and suck it!” Through my tears, I managed a small, but sincere laugh. Sniffling again, Avery giggled back. Regaining a bit of composure, he picked up his glasses, wiped the lenses and put them back on his face. 

“How about we agree that, before we leave, we always set a timer. No matter what. Deal?” I kissed Avery's forehead, gently wiping the last of his tears. It was a bit wavering, but he finally gave me a real smile. 

“Deal.”

+++

Avery protested, but I had to go back into the store to get our groceries. By the time we had finished crying, both of us were soaked, which earned me plenty of uncomfortable stares as I checked out. I had never been so thankful to be home. 

He started to assist me with putting away the groceries, but I pointed sternly to the couch. “Dude, you’re shorter than me right now. You need to sit down and start hydrating, don’t worry about the groceries, I can handle it. Oh! I got you this.” I handed him a styrofoam cup with a dome lid. “It’s an ICEE. At first, I thought I should get you Gatorade… but your body isn’t like mine; you have ice crystals in there. I thought this might help you hydrate faster. It’s kinda like ice cream, but… different. It’s cherry flavored, think you’ll like it.”

Avery took the cup from me. His wet clothes hung on him like a tent in his diminished form – his glasses, too, were cartoonishly big for his shrunken face. I watched him sip slowly from the straw – then, his eyes lit up with an expression I recognized. He started to drink faster. I was delighted to have been correct in my selection; as he drank, he was rapidly growing in size.

“Heh, I’m glad you like it. Uhh… woah there, turbo, slow down. You’re gonna get-”

“Ow, ow, ow!” Avery winced, clutching his head. “Ahh… I’m not sure I like this, after all.” 

I snorted. His mouth – normally a pale blue – had already turned purple from the red dye.

“Dude, you got a brain freeze. You can’t drink cold stuff that fast.” 

“Ah, I see. It… tastes so good, though…” He started sipping again, his eyes forming half-moons of enjoyment.

I tittered. Relatable.

I worked on the groceries as Avery rested on the couch, sipping his drink and scrolling on his phone. By the time I was finished, he had returned to his smallest “normal” size – 6”3 (190.5cm ♡) and there was a big wet spot on my couch. I should have put a towel down, first.

“Alright, let’s get out of these wet clothes. I know you don’t have a spare set, here… but you can just wear your pajamas until your day clothes are dry, okay?” 

It cost an extra thirty dollars per month, but it was worth it to have the tiny washer and dryer set in my unit. Standing over the washing machine, I peeled off my wet shirt and jeans, leaving me in my plaid boxers. 

“What is this…?” Avery asked. I hadn’t noticed him leave the couch, and I jumped slightly. Though we had been together for several months, his quiet footsteps – and unexpected speed – still caught me off guard sometimes. He was pinching the hem of my binder. I realized that, even though my torso was mostly covered, I was still more exposed than he had ever seen me. Having fallen asleep unexpectedly the night before, I had never even taken my binder off. 

“Oh… uh, it’s a binder,” I replied, embarrassed.

“What is it for?” Avery looked concerned.

My binder was wet, and at that point, I had been wearing it for well over twenty-four hours. I was uncomfortable, and I was sure I looked it, too. A sigh rolled from my chest. I knew I would have to explain this to him, eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be today, when I had already spent so much energy… well, fearing for our lives. 

“Remember last month, when I explained queerness for humans? I know for clouds, you guys all get born the same, and you can kinda decide what your bodies look like. Well… for us, we get born how we get born, and sometimes we get born looking a different way than we feel inside. For humans, changing our bodies is actually really hard, and complicated… and sometimes, even if we feel a different way from how we’re born, we don't want to change our bodies. We just want to be seen for who we are inside, but in the bodies we're already in.” 

I paused to look up at him – he was listening intently, his brow furrowed as he stared into my eyes. I shrunk under his intense gaze, blushing a bit. 

“It’s rarely ever cut-and-dry, though, when we’re born a different way than we feel. Sometimes people get born in a ‘man's body,’ but they know they are female, and vice versa… but there are a lot of people who are in-between, too. Some people feel like ‘gender’ as a whole doesn't apply to them. Some feel a mix of things. 

“I was born biologically female. Most of the time, I feel either male, or neither. It’s not that there's anything wrong with my body… it's just… when other people see me, I want them to see me how I feel inside. I wish I didn't have to wear a binder, but when I don't, people get ideas about me – and sometimes, I even get ideas about myself – that aren't who I really am,” I said, as if wearing a binder allowed me to pass consistently – it did not. 

I was afraid to meet Avery's eyes, staring down at my wet clothes as they laid at the bottom of the washing machine. What would he think of me, now? Would he think I was just “confused,” as so many had said in the past? Even when they didn't say it out loud, I could tell. I could always tell. 

A cool, soft finger crooked under my chin, gently tilting my head up. 

“You will always be who you are inside when you're with me, no matter what your body looks like. Is that clear?”

My eyes welled with tears. I tried to look away, but Avery didn't let me. 

“Don't let me find out that you've been wearing that thing longer than you should be – I know there must be safety precautions with something like that – and you never need to wear it when I'm around. In fact, I think you should take it off, right now. You don't have to do it in front of me, of course… but I can see that it's wet, and I can tell it's affecting your breathing. In fact, I've been able to tell many times in the past; I just presumed it to be a facet of your hypotension. Now that I know better, you can expect that I will be keeping you in check.” His intense gaze softened as a tear streaked down my flushed cheek. He encircled me in his huge embrace, a cool hand rubbing my back. 

“Casper, I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, sometimes. Never feel like you have to perform for me, you are perfect just as you are.” 

I trembled. I was frustrated to be sobbing for the second time in the same day, but Avery's chest was so soft, and his love was so big, I just couldn't help myself. Years of self-loathing and rejection poured out of me as he cradled my half-naked body against his chest. 

“Shhh… it's okay, sweetheart. I know you must have been worried for months about what I'd think, but you don't have to worry any more.” 

He pulled back from me, hands on my shoulders and a gentle, playful smile on his lips. He peered at me over the rim of his glasses. 

“Now, go change, okay? I believe I made a promise to you earlier, and I intend to keep it.” 

+++ 

Avery and I changed separately. I was soaked all the way through, so I donned new boxers and a fresh, loose t-shirt. It was a relief to be free of my binder. I inhaled deeply, feeling my ribs fully expand. Though I was still a bit nervous for Avery to see my chest, after so much crying, a flood of endorphins suppressed my fear. 

As I entered the living room, Avery was already on the couch, hands folded neatly in his lap. He was dressed in his pajamas, and I could only assume he had been drinking more ICEE, because he was especially big and fluffy once again. Only the washing machine’s soft whirring broke the silence.

“Come here, dear.” 

I took a few steps toward him, and then a sudden force – like a gust of wind – swept me from behind into his lap. I yelped in surprise.

“Hey, that scared me!” 

“Hehe, sorry – guess I’m feeling a bit eager.” He smirked. My eyes widened. Until that moment, I had not realized exactly what he meant about his… promise.

It was the one he had made in the frozen section. 

“W-wait,” I stuttered, my ears growing hot as I tried to scramble out of his lap. It was too late; with one large hand, he ensnared both of my wrists, lifting them over my head. I squealed. “WAHAHAIT!” 

Avery laughed gleefully, showing his delicate round teeth. 

“What, exactly, am I waiting for?” He teased. “Am I waiting for you to be ready for how much this is going to tickle? Because, I don’t think you could ever be ready for that. Hehe… you’re just buzzing with oxytocin right now, aren’t you? This is going to be so fun. Wonder where I should start?”

“Pff-hahahaha!” I laughed, trying to curl inward, which was impossible with Avery holding my arms up. As I pulled against his grasp, I fully internalized that my strength was no match for his. I also knew that as soon as he started tickling, I was likely to go limp as a ragdoll, too weak to fight. Despite the futility, it was all I could do to struggle while I still could.

“All this giggling when I haven’t even touched you, yet – I never tire of it. You’re so cute. Why don’t you save some laughs for when I start tickling, dear? You’re going to need them… trust me.” With his free hand, he wiggled his plush fingers threateningly in the air above my tummy.

“AHAhahahahavery PLEASE!” I could hardly contain myself; he hadn’t laid a finger on me, yet I could feel his damnably soft fingers already, dancing all over my body. 

“Please what? Please don’t tickle your cute tummy? You know… I think it’s only fair that I should get to see it, this time. I did, after all, show you mine. As a matter of fact… I think I want to turn this snack into a full course.” 

Avery stood, scooping me into his arms “bridal style” as I squirmed, howling in protest. 

“Put me down! You can’t just manhandle me like th- ACK!” Chuckling, he deposited me unceremoniously on the bed.

“Can’t I?” He mused.

Then, he flourished his hand in a way I’d never seen before. Like magic, two ghostly hands – very similar in appearance to Avery’s – appeared out of thin air. Before I could react, each of my wrists were grappled and pinned to the top of the bed. 

“What is this! This is cheating!” I objected, pulling at my arms. It was no use – apparently, any strength that Avery had, he was able to transfer to these apparitions, too.

“All’s fair in love and war, isn’t it, Casper?” Tittering, he straddled my waist, one knee on each side of my wriggling body. He pinned me so firmly that between his weight and his cursed “helping hands,” I could barely move. My blush spread like fire; especially with my binder off, I’d never felt more vulnerable. 

“There we are… Now, let’s see what you’ve been hiding, hm?” Avery gently lifted the hem of my shirt to my lower ribs, exposing my tummy completely. 

He paused, his eyebrows raising. As I watched, a pretty cerulean dusted his cheeks. His eyes practically sparkled as he looked down at me, making me flush even hotter.

“Oh… Casper. Just look at you. Goodness, I… I knew you would be lovely, but… oh, you are so cute. Just look at this little belly button…” With a silky fingertip, Avery drew a circle around the rim of my navel.

“PFFF HEHhahAHAHA!” I shouldn’t have been, but I was surprised by how much it tickled. My stomach muscles tensed beneath his delicate touch; it was completely undeniable, impossible to block out.

“Oh, wow... Your blush goes all the way down, doesn’t it~?”

I could hardly stand this any longer.

“Plehehehease…!” I begged, though not entirely sure what for. 

“Ah, sorry. You’re right: It’s impolite to play with your food.” 

With that, he lowered all ten of his fingertips to my tummy, wiggling them deftly into my taut skin.

“AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” I screamed with laughter, my hands balling into useless fists. My unrestrained feet kicked uncontrollably as my back, with the little space I was allowed, strained to arch off the bed.

“Oh no, does that tickle? Poor, sensitive Casper… have you forgotten what it’s like to be anxious, yet? No? I suppose I should keep going, then.” Avery giggled cheerfully, gently moving his fingers around my tummy, probing different spots randomly, just as I had done to him just a day prior. As always, his touch was so gentle; he always tickled with just enough force to excite the nerves beneath my delicate skin.

Fireworks exploded in my mind as the torture of sensation ran through my veins like electricity. I tried, but I was laughing too hard to even get a word out, like someone attempting – but unable – to tell the funniest joke they’d ever heard. Beads of moisture collected in the corners of my eyes as I shook my head, a halo of sweat forming on my pillow.

“What’s wrong, dear? Can’t stand the taste of your own medicine? I distinctly remember you tickling me, just like this. Could it be that you did so because you knew, if done on you, it would be simply unbearable? You’re already a mess, and we haven’t even gotten to your other spots, yet.”

Like a comedian pausing for effect, he stilled his fingers, grinning deviously.

“YOU’RE KIHIHIHLLLING MEHEHEHE!” I cried, finally able to somewhat form a sentence, though the tickle persisted long after he had stopped.

Avery laughed reactively – his big laugh, the one that I loved so much. My exposed, trembling tummy filled with butterflies.

“Would it be such a bad thing to die laughing?” He joked tenderly, leaning down to place a feather-light kiss on my tummy. Then he reached up, brushing the damp hair from my forehead. “Do you need a break?” 

“...” 

Avery lowered his tone, leering over his glasses again. “Before you answer, just so you know: I’m taking those armpits for a spin, next.”

The fluster I experienced was so powerful and so immediate, I saw stars.

“Y-Y-Yes, I need w-water,” I choked, imagining how crazed I must look to him. He chuckled, leaving the room for a moment, and then returning with a bottle of water. With a hand on my back, he helped me sit up. The hands holding my wrists relaxed, but not enough to give me free range of motion. I shot him a quizzical glance.

“Oh, dewdrop… You didn’t think I was going to let you go, did you?” He taunted, gently cupping my chin as he poured the water into my mouth. 

I blushed furiously. 

It was difficult to drink, as I was trembling from head to toe, but I managed… somehow. He set the bottle on the nightstand, and then I was trapped again, arms aloft as Avery sat on my waist. 

He eyed me through his bifocals, a fingertip placed to his lips.

“Hmm… Under, or over your shirt?”

“What?!”

“Sorry, did I stutter? Under or over, Casper.” 

“I-I-I…” 

“What’s wrong, dear? Can’t you manage a simple, one-word answer~?”

My response was nothing but an incoherent whimper.

“Since it seems you’re feeling indecisive, I’ll choose for you. I choose under.”

“No! NO! AHAHAHahveery!”

He leaned forward, placing his fingertips on my bare lower ribs.

“Let’s just take a little trip, shall we? We’ll start right here.”

“NOHHOHOHO!”

“Then we’ll work our way upward, nice and slow…”

Avery walked his fingertips up my ribs, pausing now and then to wiggle into a soft spot.

“AAAAHAHA NOOO PLHEHEHEHEHASE!”

“You know, sometimes, it’s about the journey, not the destination… don’t you agree?”

His silky digits continued upward until they reached the top of my ribcage. I shook with laughter beneath him, my feet stomping the bed fruitlessly as my toes curled in desperation. I simultaneously dreaded and craved what was next.

“But, then again… it is nice to arrive, too~”

With that, he dipped his fingertips into each of my helpless armpits, scribbling gently into the bare hollows. 

“Tickle tickle tickle,” he lilted, grinning.

My response was a delirious, unintelligible shriek. In my mind raged a five-alarm fire, searing any coherent thought to ash. With what little movement my restraints would allow, I thrashed beneath Avery, my heart palpitating so fiercely I was afraid it would escape my chest. Tears streamed down my burning cheeks, heralding my third cry of the day.

“Oh, my god… Your previous laughs were hardly a giggle compared to this. Have I finally found a favorite spot, sweetheart? Are you just too ticklish under these arms? Goodness… I could hardly tickle you any more gently, but even this is driving you nuts!”

I couldn’t respond – the tickle was so intense, so overwhelming that all I could do was laugh in futility. I had no strength left to struggle; my body lay limp beneath Avery as he killed me softly with those silky, gentle fingertips, stroking merrily away under my arms, destroying any hope I had of stringing two thoughts together.

After what seemed like an eternity – but in reality, must have been less than ten minutes – Avery stopped. The pair of hands that were holding my wrists released me, but I hadn’t even the strength to put my arms down. His cool hand stroked my cheek as he chuckled affectionately.

“Well, now… How do you feel? Have you forgotten what it’s like to be anxious?” 

I sat up – tried to, anyway – and then collapsed back onto the pillow in a blissfully overstimulated huff. Avery started to giggle, which escalated to a delighted belly laugh.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” 

“Avery…” 

“Yes…?”

“If you don’t cuddle me – right now – I think I'm going to die.”

Still chuckling, he immediately enveloped me in his fluffy embrace, hugging me as if he were afraid someone would take me from him. I snuggled easily into his arms, cocooned in a heretofore unknown peace and safety. The last thing I heard was Avery’s characteristic lightning zap as the light flickered out; I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. 

[inhibitionfreewriting]

Right Person, Wrong Time (pt2)

for what it's worth, i'm sorry for any heartbreak

part 1 / part 3

🌠🌠

Surely there was a reason for this. To be damned to show up with your bar-crawling friends to a place where your ex fiancé is flirting with some woman. Your friends haven't noticed him and it doesn't seem like he's noticed you, too busy trying to get the woman to laugh at his jokes.

It takes less than 2 minutes from your friends to find a table near the bar itself but far enough away from him that you don't really mind, sticking to the innermost corner of the group. They barely even paid attention when you were more focused on getting a good shot of him than ordering a drink.

you 7:19pm: [picture of your ex fiancé]

you 7:19pm: stupid motherfucker couldn't pick a better bar to go hard ass women at

you 7:20pm: harass*

You weren't even entirely sure of who you sent the message to, perhaps a little too inebriated yourself to be completely in control. Maybe that was what you really wanted though. That's what you were used to, wasn't it? Having other people make decisions for you? One of the people you were with slid their drink over to you.

"Drink honey, drink and I'll get me another one. You need it you just look... you look sooo so sad." Fruity. You could barely taste the alcohol.

"You can't be sad!" Another one says, smacking their hand down on the table before pointing at you. "You can't be sad because your life is going to get so much better. I can feel it. It's in the stars. I was reading your uh... your... fucking what is it called, shit."

"Horoscope?"

"YES! Your whore scope."

"Horoscope."

"Shh shh shh. That's what I said. It said that your life is going to change in a big big way soon. I believe it's gonna be good." You shook your head and continued drinking, not paying attention to the way that the conversation drifted away from you once again. The way you liked it.

... bzzzt ...

Willard Neffard 7:30pm: I thought he didn't even drink?

Thank god you had texted Will and nobody else.

you 7:32pm: 8 months ago he didn't

you 7:35pm: but maybe that was a lie??

you 7:38pm: IDK i kind of wish i could leave but i cannot drive right now

Willard Neffard 7:50pm: I got you 👍🏻

you 7:51pm: a literal night in shining armor

you 7:51pm: knight

"Guys, I'm gonna have a friend come get me." Your friends frowned and the one next to you wrapped their arm around you and dropped their head to your shoulder. "I don't feel that great and I think I'm out of battery for the night."

"We get it babes, you gonna stay with us till your ride gets here?" You nodded and leaned your head against the one on your shoulder.

"Probably for the best. Just means I can keep knocking them back until then. Excuse me, miss!" You called your waitress over and ordered another round. The Uber driver would get it surely, if you explained to them that you saw your ex fiancé who technically left you at the altar showed up at a bar that you were at to relax so you drank a little more while waiting for them to get there? Yeah, definitely, of course they would. Who wouldn't?

Willard Neffard 8:26pm: Outside

At this point you were near stumbling and your mind was in a perpetual spin cycle. Were you too hung up on your life getting destroyed, or were you hung up enough? Your friends told you it was grief. You were grieving the burning of bridges, the deaths of friendship, and that grief was hard to get over. You grow around grief, grief doesn't get smaller.

The air outside the bar had a bite to it, the cool breeze immediately lighting your cheeks up, what a difference. No Uber to be seen though... and no Will either. Did you send him the wrong address? You pulled out your phone and checked, no you sent the right one. You ran your hand through your hair. There was a slim chance that he was playing a joke on you but after everything you didn't put much weight into that theory.

"I heard you needed a ride."

No, absolutely not. You shook your head with your eyes shut, hoping that you wouldn't fall over.

"Will was busy and there wasn't a way you'd get an Uber out without it being completely overpriced." Hasan stood a few feet away, like he was nervous to be any closer, in a tan sweater and dark slacks. "All I want to do is get you home safe."

In another life you would have ran and wrapped your arms around him, telling him he looked good and thanking him for being willing to pick you up. In another life he would have been at the bar with you and your friends, celebrating something. All you could muster was a quiet 'okay' before opening your eyes and walking past him to his car, getting into the passenger seat without saying anything else.

With your head against the headrest, you closed your eyes again and tried to pretend you were anywhere else with anyone else. The car ride was quiet sans the random radio station all the way down to where you could barely make out the beat to the music with your hand against the speaker.

Eventually, Hasan sighed heavily and smacked the steering wheel before leaning back. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping open before looking over to him and then the cars ahead of you. Lines and lines of red taillights, backed up far past the edge of your vision. This was not going to be a quick 30 minute drive home.

"Oh. Of fucking course," the liquor in your system making you louder than intended. "The first time I go out drinking in months, months, I have to see both assholes who have ruined my life. I'm going to kill Will. I should have told them I couldn't go out. Should have stayed home." Hasan turned enough to look at you, but said nothing.

"I wouldn't be in this fucking mess if it weren't for you," your body turned to face him and you jabbed a hand in his direction but didn't make contact. "Seriously, every time my life goes to shit, it is you at the wheel of the ship. Why is that Piker? Do you hate me? Is it active sabotage, or is it just the balance of the universe? I'm the one who has to suffer for you to be happy?" The car moved a few feet before stopping again. "Well? Nothing? You have nothing to say to me?"

You observed him the best that you could in the lack of light. One hand sat on the steering wheel still, the other on his lap in a fist and he gnawed on the inside of his lips in thought. You had seen that look many times before, the gears in his head were turning, but still he stayed silent. Impatient, Words started to tumble out of your mouth again, each heavier with angry tears than the last.

"I can start it for you since you're too stupid to think of it first. How about I'm sorry? You don't even have to be specific. Just 'I'm sorry'!" Your fingers were cold on your face when they wiped at your cheeks. His hand left his lap and gingerly reached for one side of your face and for a moment you even contemplated letting him. But only a moment. Seething with pent up rage, you smacked his hand away from your face and moved towards the window with the little room you had left. He had pulled his hand back into his lap but cut you off before you could take a deep enough breath to speak again.

"I am sorry." For a moment Hasan let his words hang in the silence, waiting to see if you'd cut him off this time and continue ripping into him. "I should have said it to you way earlier than this. It shouldn't take Austin and Will doing an event to get me in front of you to apologize for... everything."

"No you can't just cop out with everything, you need to apologize for ruining my life!"

"Yes," he sounded exasperated and it fueled the rage in your stomach but you let him continue, actually biting your lip to keep your words in. "I am sorry for fucking up your life. Do you-" he ran a hand through his hair, "do you think I've stopped thinking about you once in the last 3 and a half years? When I saw you with that... motherfucker the first time, I wasn't even upset at you for moving on, I was fucking happy for you dude.

"And then you fucking tell me and Will the same shit you've always said, marriage is a scam, that this marriage will be no different than any other marriage. You expect me to think you're in love with him? I'm not that fucking stupid and neither are you. And he walked out immediately because he thought you were cheating on him!"

"Yes because my ex boyfriend decided to object at the wedding!" Your voice was much more a shriek than anything else, "why couldn't you have just pulled me aside beforehand instead of... ruining my life!"

"I didn't-" mean to ruin your life. The words stuck in his throat like tar, singing his breath. He leaned his head in his hand as he inched the car forward. How do you really apologize to someone for causing someone so much heartache because you were still heartsick? Hasan felt like he could throw up. He'd never be able to apologize enough, he knew that from how you were barely holding yourself back. "I'm sorry, button."

If there was anything he could say that would have broken you entirely, it was calling you button. The first sob wracked your body the hardest, remembering the last time he called you that. His lips on yours and on your cheeks, telling you he loved you, that he would never find another one for him like you. It seemed so silly now, having it bloom a sickening warmth in your stomach when it should have been disgust.

It was still in there. A small piece of him, sitting in your heart like iron, rusting the gates that you had tried so hard to reinforce.

[yellow-computer-mouse]

isopods 🫵

I LOVE ISOPODS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay so!!! you probably know them as a:

roly-poly

pillbug

sowbug

woodlouse

potato bug

[plain text: roly-poly, pillbug, sowbug, woodlouse, potato bug]

or any other regional nickname! i have noticed that cubaris and armadillidium species normally get roly poly or potato bug, while porcellio get sowbug or woodlouse!

Some terminology:

Cephalothorax: The head (1st segment)

Pereon: The abdomen (2-7th segments)

Pleon: The tail (Final 5 segments. These are much smaller)

Pereopods: The legs (7 pairs)

Gonads: Sexual organs (located under the pleon)

[plain text: Cephalothorax: The head (1st segment), Pereon: The abdomen (2-7th segments), Pleons: The tail (Final 5 segments. These are much smaller), Pereopods: The legs (7 pairs), Gonads: Sexual organs (located under the pleon)]

SO!!! there are three main species of terrestrial isopods (that I know lol)

.....

Armadillidium:

Your typical roly-poly. This is the dark grey, perfectly round little guy you'll find in your backyard. A classic!

[ID: Two Armadillidium isopods. One is dark grey and very round, and the other is slightly orange-tinted and a little flatter. They are on a pinkish-orange rocky background. End ID]

.....

Porcellio:

These are the really fast ones that look more like lobsters. You know, the ones with the lighter ridges along their sides? Those guys. They can't roll up like an Armadillidium, but they do flex their abdomens like a lobster! Also, sometimes they play dead. I don't know if they're meant to do this, but I've seen it. It's very convincing!

(This is an ABSOLUTE UNIT of an isopod btw. Why are you so big. Calm down. Easy on the protein shakes bro.)

[ID: A Porcellio isopod. It is a dark grey-brown, with light orange ridges along the side of its body. It appears to have small bumps along its back. It is standing on the palm of someone's hand. End ID]

.....

Cubaris:

These are the really fancy isopods that you'd buy from a breeder. They have a slightly different face shape. Also, they're adorable. My favorites are lemon blues or rubber duckies! (Both images included.)

[Left ID: Several large and small lemon blue isopods on a log. Right ID: A close-up of a rubber ducky isopod with two babies. They are standing on a sandy substrate. End IDs]

.....

My all-time favorite isopod is the Thai Spiky Isopod. I can't find a species for it, so it's just under the general family Isopoda. I love it ver much tho!!!

[ID: An isopod on a leaf. It is dark brown with two off-white segments in the middle and is covered in small, rounded spikes. Its head and pleon are a lighter brown. End ID]

..... Here's how to sex an isopod!

[ID: A realistic drawing of a terrestrial isopod, showing anatomy. It shows an isopod from its top and its right, as well as a close-up of the gonads. It appears to be a Porcellio isopod. The drawing highlights the cephalothorax, the person, the pleon, the pereopods, the antennae, and the male and female gonads. End ID]

.....

Fun facts!:

Male isopods have two penises!

Isopods have gills; yes, even these terrestrial ones!

They need to keep their gills moist to breathe.

Despite having gills, they will drown if completely submerged in water!

Isopods molt! They also eat their shed!

[plain text: Male isopods have two penises! Isopods have gills; yes, even these terrestrial ones! They need to keep their gills moist to breathe. Despite having gills, they will drown if completely submerged in water! Isopods molt! They also eat their shed!]

.....

that's all my yapping! thank you so much! also sorry not sorry for the essay lol

[hatkuu]

I don't know how much you're into hybrids, but thinking about catboy (OR maybe foxboy bc they mate for life) kylar rutting into you while he's in heat, rambling desperately about how good you are and how well you'll take his cum, how wonderful you'll look rounding out with his kits, begging you to get pregnant, nuzzling up against you like he'll die if you don't smell like him... Probably OVERJOYED if you start taking on traits of the same transformation bc of him, might get even more enthusiastic about making sure his cum ends up *in* you in the end, just to make sure it takes.. Because it just makes you more compatible, doesn't it? Makes a mission of making sure you keep it, cumming in you as often as you'll let him.

I think he'd start crying and possibly also get so horny he needs you immediately [closet or an alleyway if you're out, he needs you Now] if you showed up once with an item to keep the TF on. (BONUS points if it's a collar, though they really should get that engraved with his name, shouldn't they? You're his love, after all, he has every intention to look after you when you have needs, and maybe - ah, m-maybe it'll even help keep some of the whores in town off of you, if you're so clearly marked... Might not say that last part. Probably gets SUPER flustered if you ask him to wear one, too - if you already have, it's a *treasured* item, he never leaves without it. Probably touches it whenever he's sad, or misses you, or he's just thinking about you, fidgets with it while watching footage of you in your room at night... That's why he knows it's a good idea to get you one! Ahah, and if there's a tracker in it, maybe - well, that's just because he loves you, you know. He doesn't ever want to lose track of his precious beloved!) Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't still want to cum in you as much as he can - no method of protection is proven 100% effective, right? And, besides, you should keep his mark in you anyway...

(Think he'd like the fox mask, too - moreso if you told him what it's for - just bc it looks like smth he'd see in an anime.)

Imagine he'd be absolutely OVERJOYED when it takes - maybe something in your scent changes, just slightly, and he has to stop everything he's doing to get close to you and check more thoroughly. Absolutely cries about it, holds you tight and nuzzles against you and kisses you without end, babbling about how happy he is and how wonderful you are, how wonderful your kids will be, how he loves you so, *so* much - he's careful to be gentler after that unless you ask otherwise, though he's no less enthusiastic about sex, likes to curl around you afterward once you're showing as if to protect you, even though he's likely the smaller of you two, might lay a hand on your belly idly. Even quicker to draw his knife at school, I think he'd do whatever he could to be near you as often as he can, ... He WILL take responsibility, also - loudly, and often, much to the chagrin of your school reputation. Would probably want you to get an ultrasound as early as possible, just to confirm things, though I don't think he'd make you - WOULD be Very insistent about coming with you, though. Probably wants to fuck you right after, too, overjoyed and helplessly turned on by the sight.

This is WAY too much text anyway sorry. I think I enjoy the image of him in a collar just a little bit too much

no. do not apologise. i LOVE hybrids and fox kylar is sosososo real. im. im. you'd give him a collar with his name on it and he'd want YOU to wear it. so everyone knows you're his :)

BUT YES!!!! fox boy kylar who's soooo shy when you first speak to him, he doesn't want to scare you off with the whole 'mating for life' thing, but wow you're so pretty and you smell so fertile that he's drooling as soon as you introduce yourself with a cute, easygoing smile.

i also think kylar unintentionally giving you the fox transformation would be soooo good. fic wise and horny wise. see!! you're perfect for one another - and since now you have the same animalistic urges as one another, the two of you are clinging to one another like you're connected at the hip - the whole mating for life thing is mutual now!!! anytime you're faced by a potential suitor you'll react with disgust, vouching your love for him in response. i just KNOW kylar would get soooo flustered over it and his tail would get all swishy.

OH!!!! and that cute fox giggle thing. he does that all the time. you tickle him??? his ears fold back into his hair as he giggles. you show ANY form of affection??? he has a palm over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out of pure happiness. (he's not laughing at you!!! he just loves you sososo much!!) (gawd he's such a cutie pie. i love laughing i think it's the most endearing way of showing your appreciation for a partner)

also. where i live is overrun with foxes, and um. their mating noises are unearthly. screaming. barking. howling. they do it all. look it up. i. i think kylar yipping at you would be rlly cute though.

ALSO FOX MATING RITUALS!!!!! the males have to earn the females favour so just imagine kylar puffing his chest out and pulling his knife on as many other potential suitors as possible (to show you that he's the best viable mate for breeding!!! pleasepleaseplease pick him or it will not be pretty. foxes follow the female around like kicked puppies until she chooses one of them FFSJHSKD)

definitely notices the INSTANT you get knocked up by him. he greets you at the school gate (a customary thing the two of you do because you refuse to be apart from one another) and his pupils blow out wide because he smells something new. you'll yelp as his hands grip your shoulders to hold you firm, smelling you deeply with his nose buried flush against your neck, tail swishing curiously. then he starts sobbing. squeals with joy and decides that nope!!! you don't need school anymore!!! you have to take care of our kits! and locks you up in the manor. he is extremely turned on.

will bring you lots of blankets, pillows and comfortable things he deems to be appropriate material for your den. anything you ask for is handed to you within minutes. gives you all the sex you could possibly ask for, until you're lying back pliantly, wrung out from the sheer amount of orgasms kylar has ripped from your body.

i hope this response matched your energy because i love this. thank u for gracing me with fox boy kylar. he is sly and sneaky and wants as many kits as possible :) wants to mate for life with you and brings it up 2 days into when you first start dating :)

[rotworld]

9: Meat Market

(previous)

you end up somewhere you'd rather not be. a familiar priest wants to make you feel welcome.

->contains gore, mind control, non-consensual touching, religious content.

.

.

.

You need a shower. 

You’d like to wash your clothes, bandage your knees and palms and lay down to ease the pressure on your sore hips and core, but all of that pales in comparison to your visceral need to rinse the grit and disgusting sticky sensation from your skin. You tilt the rearview mirror, examining the throbbing, tender bites and scratches adorning your skin. There’s a mark right where your neck meets your shoulder, not flushed and irritated like the rest. It’s faded like an old tattoo, just barely visible; symmetrical symbols, twin forking arches.

Antlers, you realize. Just high enough to peek out of the collar of your shirt.

It’s a long way to the University. You wouldn’t make it there tonight, even without this awful ache in your lower body. You scan the roadside for signs promising lodging or even a rest area, desperate for somewhere to stop. There’s nothing for a long time, even when you escape the lingering grasp of Verlinda and the treeline falls away. You see foggy plains and farmland, rows of ripe corn behind a wooden fence. For the first time in a while, you encounter other cars on the road. You see the finger-like silhouettes of factory smokestacks, a blocky city skyline in the distance.

You notice the smell as you drift into the exit lane. Sharp and savory—spices and dried meats. Your mouth waters. A shower, you think, and then maybe a hot meal. It’s a small town, you notice, more like Henley Creek than Prismville with its sleepy main street and quaint coffee shops. You drive slowly, looking for courier signs, but you see something else first; something that makes your heart skip a beat.

A metal sign straddles the road. A bridge gently arcs over a stylized river, colorful text following the curve. It says, “WELCOME TO NELTON.” You consider for a moment how desperate you really are.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: I ADORE YOU BY QUEEN ADREENA]

A river squirms through Nelton from north to south, sandy paths and old, soggy docks lining the bank. The city is a spacious, small town sprawl, meandering avenues dotted by benches, kitschy local shops and garland-wrapped streetlights. There’s some sort of special event or holiday coming up, implied by the colorful banners and 50% off sale signs, but not one you’re familiar with. 

Downtown is bustling. You’ve arrived just in time for the lunch rush, watching hurried foot traffic stream through cafe and diner doors. Churches pop up like weeds every few blocks but they’re smaller and in poor condition than you expect, white, wooden buildings that look like they might topple in a strong breeze. You park on a busy avenue, walking slowly by the windows of a florist, an antique shop, an apartment building, looking for courier signs. You’re starting to lose hope when you round the corner and nearly run into someone. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking—oh, hello again.” 

You stare at the man in front of you. Have you met before? He’s smiling like you have but nothing about him is particularly memorable. You feel like you’re flipping quickly through a product catalogue and all the models are blurring together, pleasing to the eye but unobtrusive so as not to distract from the rest of the image. He wears a white shirt and black slacks, suspenders curving over his shoulders. And gloves, you realize, black leather gloves. You ran into him in Prismville. 

“Courier! What a pleasant surprise!” There’s another man with him who you recognize immediately. Malachi is dressed in the same cassock as the last time you saw him, hands clasped together in front of his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here. Was it a long drive? Why don’t you join Mr. Bachman and I for lunch?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay, but I’m sure the two of you will have a lovely time.” Bachman smiles and slips past you gracefully. He claps a hand on your shoulder as he goes, leaning in just slightly. “Don’t eat anything they offer you,” he whispers. He walks unhurriedly to a small, silver car parked by the florist. When you turn back around, Malachi is slightly closer, his smile just a bit wider.

“I had no idea the two of you were acquainted. What a small world!” he says. 

Anticipating his charisma, the way he draws you in, doesn’t help. You feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaking out of your shoulders. The glow of his eyes is even fainter outside in the Drift’s weak daylight, but you notice the slightest golden hue rippling around his face. “We’re not, exactly. I saw him a while ago. Didn’t have time to introduce ourselves,” you admit.

“Ah, that sounds about right. He’s an anchorware repairman. Always rushing off to the next place, a bit like yourself. We just had to recalibrate our whole stabilizing array and I wasn’t sure it was done properly. It was kind of him to rush out and take a look—” Malachi cuts himself off suddenly, eyes widening in surprise. He hooks two fingers beneath the collar of your shirt and tugs it slightly to the side, staring, no doubt, at the mark of the Stag. “What happened here?” he says softly. 

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, leaning out of his reach. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I could really use a shower—”

“Goodness, of course,” he says, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. You’re walking before you’re fully aware of it, letting him guide you down the street. You’re leaving downtown, ambling down a long, green path to what looks like an industrial park. A massive complex of metallic buildings, steel walkways, and gaping delivery bays greets you at the end of the path. That spicy, savory smell you first noticed on the way into town is stronger here, almost cloying.

“Employee showers are in this building here. And no, nobody will mind,” he says, steering you towards a smaller, rectangular building with its own parking lot, separate from the rest of the factory. “You’d be more than welcome to use my bathroom if we were closer, but I live quite a ways from here. I’m sure you’d like to get cleaned up sooner rather than later.” 

Before long, you’re walking down a long, echoing hallway, passing people in stark white uniforms. Everyone smiles and nods or waves to Malachi, a few exchanging cheerful greetings. They’re polite to you but not overly friendly, seeming to sense your unease. The shower room is clean and spacious, and thankfully unoccupied when you arrive. There’s a plastic bench against the wall with clean towels stacked in a pile. The stalls are around the corner. You can’t help but notice Malachi lingers, leaning against the wall beside the bench. “You can leave your clothes with me. I’ll make sure nothing happens to them,” he says, smiling innocently. 

You’re too tired to argue. You go around the corner to undress, wrapping a towel around your body and hand off your clothes, extremely aware of Malachi’s fingers brushing against your hands. The lights are dimmer. The glow of his eyes is more noticeable and eerie. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asks, winking. “Are you delivering something, or just passing through? I suppose you’re always passing through, regardless.” 

You slip around the corner and into a shower stall, turning on the hot water. It’s heavenly, soothing on all your scrapes and scratches. “Just passing through,” you call over the hiss of running water. 

“Ah, the exciting life of a courier. Doesn’t it get lonely?”

You don’t answer, lathering some soap in your hands. The presence of amenities, several different scents and varieties of shampoo, makes you curious. “What is this place?” 

“Nelton’s biggest employer,” Malachi says wryly. “Food processing, meat packing, and animal feed manufacture, all under one roof. Or, well, a series of connected roofs. It’s a big complex. If you noticed a particular odor around town, this is where it comes from.”

“And it’s got showers,” you marvel. “Nice ones.” 

“Food is the heart of the community. Those who work with it are afforded the highest respect.”

You’re waiting for the invitation to lunch but it never comes. Are you being paranoid? There’s something odd about Malachi, and Bachman’s whispered warning is lingering in the back of your mind, but you towel off and get your clothes back without incident. 

“You’ve got plenty of daylight left,” Malachi says. “So I suppose I can’t convince you to stay a while longer.” His eyes flick down to your neck when you come out of the showers, an irritated twitch at the corner of his smile. “That’s a stubborn spot of dirt, isn’t it?” he says. 

You saw it in the mirror. The mark of the Stag didn’t come off, but you didn’t expect it to. “I’m sure it’ll come off eventually.”

He insists on walking you back to your car and you let him because it seems harmless, and you’re not sure you could navigate out of the factory complex alone anyway. You’re still a bit sore but you smell clean, at least, and your mood has lifted. Nelton’s peaceful scenery puts you at ease. The belltower spire of a courthouse periscopes from the center of downtown. A fried, buttery scent wafts from a seafood restaurant along the river. Wind skims across the surface of the water, stirring gentle waves.

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” Malachi asks, ambling along the sandy riverbank beside you. 

“It is,” you say. A pair of fishermen seated at the edge of a dock wave at the two of you. 

“Have you seen much of town? I meant to show you around. You might’ve noticed there aren’t any courier signs, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome. Just the opposite. Everyone in Nelton is more than happy to help a courier. Food, lodgings, supplies, whatever you need, you don’t need to worry about finding it here.”

“That’s generous,” you say. The suspicion must be evident in your voice or on your face. Malachi laughs softly.

“The law of Nelton is hospitality. It’s simply what we do here. We’re especially appreciative of couriers, of course, but anyone who comes all this way would receive the same treatment.” He pauses, gazing across the water. You stop beside him, watching the waves lap at the rocks and meandering tree roots on the far shore. “Our most important holiday is in less than a week, the Feeding of the Multitude. Are you familiar with that particular story from the Bible? It was one of the miracles of Jesus. He took a couple fish and a few loaves of bread, gave thanks for them, and distributed them among the faithful and needy. This blessed food fed thousands.” 

He’s watching you, you realize, studying your face. “Ah,” you say, unsure of what sort of reaction he’s expecting.

“That spirit of generosity is the essence of Nelton. Whether you follow the faith or not, it’s good to give, right? To feed the hungry and shelter the lost.”

He reaches for your hand and the thought that you should pull away passes through your mind, fizzling out just as quickly. It’s fine, isn’t it? You know he means well. He just wants to take care of you. His gaze is steady and warm, full of affection, as he tugs you closer. It occurs to you that this is strange, improper somehow, that a stranger and a priest of all things shouldn’t be holding you like this, but that thought, too, melts away.

“The truth is, a miracle happened here. Just like the fish and loaves,” he says quietly, so quietly you have to lean in closer. You get the sense that this is a secret he’s telling you, something not often given to outsiders. His hand is on your face, his thumb stroking your lips. His eyes are beautiful, gold like honey. “Are you hungry, courier?” 

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. You think that this isn’t right, that you were leaving, weren’t you? You were going to get back in your car and keep going south but that seems too difficult now, not worth the risk. Where is your car? Where’s the florist and the antique shop? Isn’t that where he was supposed to take you? Hunger rakes through your belly. You’re ravenous. You could eat everything you have, all the eggs and junk food the Singer gave you and still not be satisfied.

Malachi is still watching you. You don’t know what he sees but it’s something good, something right, happiness blooming in your chest as soft and sweet as spun sugar when he strokes your cheek. “Then I should feed you, shouldn’t I?” He holds your hand, lacing your fingers together, as he begins to walk again. You’re leaving the river behind, ascending a steep, grassy hill. Town is far away, small in the distance. How far did you walk without realizing it? 

There’s a church here that’s not like the others. It’s much bigger. It’s the same old style, the same white paint flaking from the exterior and the same dead leaves and spiderwebs gathered in its gutters, but its walls are wider, its steeple taller. Soft, golden light flickers beyond the windows but all you can make out are vague shapes and silhouettes. You stumble, your feet suddenly refusing to work. 

You can’t go in there. The thought is a lightning bolt, a sobering shock to your system. You absolutely cannot go in there. The Stag has a presence like a forest made of eyes, the paralyzing, primal gaze of ancestral predators and the weight of a hundred thousand trees. This is worse. You aren’t glimpsing the beast through a leafy canopy but wandering right up to its maw, engulfed in its hot, butcher shop breath. 

“It’s alright,” Malachi says gently. “Don’t be afraid, it’s alright. I know how it feels the first time.” 

“I can’t…” You shake your head and pull back, away from him, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip on your hand tightens. “I can’t, I can’t—”

“Holiness isn’t as pretty as they make it look in Renaissance paintings. It’s messy. Visceral. It breathes and it bleeds, just like us.” You sink to your knees and he follows you, kneeling in dry, prickly grass—red, you realize, the grass is red and the dirt is red and everything is slick and glistening and red. You are kneeling in the vivisected insides of a thing stretched and splayed across miles. The trees are stiff stalks of sinew and leaves of thin, veiny membranes that pulse and ooze. You smell meat, cooked and seasoned to perfection. Malachi cups your chin and urges you to look at him. 

“Let me go,” you beg him. “I don’t want this.” Fear, too, is a shriveling impulse, weak against the warmth of his hands stroking your hair.

“You do,” he coos. “You poor thing, I know you do. We’re all hungry and we all deserve to eat.” He cups your face in his hands and leans in so the gold of his eyes is all you see. Sharp, searing pain erupts in your neck and shoulder and you shove him off of you, scrambling back in the grass. You touch the spot, feeling for a wound. 

There’s nothing. Just the tingling heat of the Stag’s mark. Malachi looks shocked and then really, truly sad, gaze gentle with sympathy. He reaches out to you and you scramble to your feet, running without ever looking back. 

Nelton flickers around you. Sometimes you see the town, sometimes the flesh. Squirming ropes of intestines dangle like power lines. The road is cobblestone, and then it’s a row of teeth. You can’t tell which is real. People watch you, pausing their routines to peer out of windows and lean out of their cars. All of them frowning, all of them with furrowed brows and eyes emanating the same golden light. They don’t stop you. You’re afraid they know something you don’t.

Your car is where you left it. You screech out of your parking spot and make a beeline for the edge of town. The red fades. The road, stone and sterile, welcomes you back. That savory smell lingers for a while, and then it turns sour. You feel nauseous. The sky darkens and you check your clock, discovering your brief trip through Nelton cost you several hours. The sun will set soon and you feel worse than before, sick and exhausted and dirty all over again. Turning back isn’t an option. You’ll have to settle for the next place you see. Whatever you find, you assure yourself, it can’t be any worse than where you just came from.

(next)

[ravenzeppeli]

Claimed

Chapter 17 - The Incident Pt. 4: The Rising Climax |Pesci x Reader Lemon|

Warning: strong language, sex. MA.

You stood outside of Pesci's apartment as he unlocked it, looking at the apartment he pointed to across the hall. "They say that apartments haunted. I doubt it," he mutteted, pushing his door open and stepping it. "You can leave your shoes on or take them off. Just make yourself at home, I know it's small."

You stepped inside of his apartment, taking your shoes off at the front door, wanting to be polite. You looked around the apartment. It was small, but it wasn't as small as the studio apartment you lived in before moving into the base. You preferred living in a smaller place, not feeling the need for fancy or large things. You simply looked at a house as just a place to sleep at and hide out at.

The living room was cute, having a red couch, a glass coffee table, as well as a TV stand and a TV in front of it. You noticed paperwork scattered all over his coffee table, the round table filled. The kitchen was directly behind the living room, a small hallway with three doors next to the kitchen. You turned your head slightly to the right, seeing a wooden kitchen table with four chairs.

"I'm sorry it's so messy," he replied. "I've never.. I only ever have Prosciutto or Melone over here mainly."

"It's not messy," you told him, standing by the door. You didn't want to just enter his home, especially considering the two of you haven't even kissed yet. You felt safe around him. You just didn't want to disrespect his home. "You have a nice apartment, I don't see anything wrong with it."

He walked over to the couch, looking back at you. "It's okay, Y/N, come sit if you'd like." A small smile appeared on his lips, him turning away to walk down his hallway. "I'll be back!"

You walked into his living room, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out, flipped it open, and saw 30 missed called and 10 unanswered texts. You saw a recent one from Formaggio, causing your heart to tighten. You clicked on the message, reading it carefully.

Listen. Everything that happened between us. It doesn't matter. We can start fresh and start over. I am not mad at you, I won't do anything to you and neither will Illuso. You don't need to worry, and him and I had a long talk. We want just you. We shouldn't be cheating on you, unless we want you to cheat too. We fucking don't.

Thanks for being a good girl. I'm honestly so proud of you. You know that? You and I are good. We're even. Same with Illuso. It's all good baby. We know you ain't mean nothing bad, just talk to us privately if you're ever mad at us. Okay? We can handle things privately baby, we don't need to tell the others stuff.

Delete this message. Just this one. It's okay if you don't text back. I get it. Take all the time you need. And, if it's any help, I only lost my temper cause you tried to kill yourself. I ain't like that, I ain't violent with you. Don't hurt yourself. We do fucking care about you. Men who punish their women only do it because they care.

Goodnight Y/N.

"What is he talking about?" Pesci questioned, his voice causing you to jump slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I'm just really worried about you."

You deleted the single message and snapped your phone shut, "it's okay. He's just talking about what happened at the base. Him and I haven't talked since that happened." You hoped that he would believe your lie. You didn't want to tell anyone what happened. It wasn't their business, and it was embarrassing that you let Formaggio hurt you with no attempt to stop him. Why would you want these men to look at you as weaker than they already think you are?

"If they threatened you, I can help you. Melone and Ghiaccio can help you," he told you, sitting next to you. He handed you a shirt and plaid pajama pants. "You don't have to wear these. Want to look in my closet?"

You stood up, taking your shirt off in front of him, acting without really thinking. "I'll wear it," you replied, his face going red as you grabbed the shirt out of his hand, his eyes on your bra, staring at your slightly spilled out breasts.

"You're beautiful," he blurted out, quickly turning away. "I'm sorry, I don't want to ever disrespect you! I just.. I'm really sorry I looked."

You went to put the t-shirt on but stopped when you noticed a visible erection in his pants, tossing it and the pajama pants next to Pesci. "Do you want me to take care of that? I can." You've never done anything sexual with him before, feeling that now may be the time.

"I'm a virgin," he whispered, sounding as if it was embarrassing for him to admit. "I wouldn't be able to please you. Not the way you deserve. You're too pretty, I wouldn't want you to not like me because I'm a bad boyfriend."

"If you wanted, I could ride you," you told him, his head instantly raising to look at you. Despite his face being red, he seemed interested. "I don't know why you're sitting here talking negatively about yourself. You're a really strong guy. I'm attracted to you, Pesci." You weren't lying. You did feel a physical attractiveness when you looked at him. He was a really cute guy, and he was sweet. You also felt bad. You shouldn't be neglecting him while giving attention to scum like Formaggio or Illuso. You needed to give your time to the men who were actually decent men.

"You don't need to lie, I'll keep protecting you. I promise I will." He watched as you walked in front of him, his erection standing up fully. "I didn't mean it, I can't help it. I just.. you're so pretty. I feel embarrassed for getting hard."

You felt bad slightly, maybe he didn't want this. Maybe he was saving himself and you were doing something wrong. "I'm sorry Pesci, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I shouldn't of done this, I don't know what I was thinking." You leaned down, grabbing the shirt.

"I want you so fucking bad," he suddenly said, the sudden dominance in his tone taking you slighly aback. "I've been wanting to try and move forward in our relationship. I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you. I want to make love to you. You're so nice to me, and you take good care of me when I get hurt. You're beautiful, and I've wanted you for the past three months. I'm just so scared to talk to you. I'm so scared you'll reject me and see me as weak, but please don't think I don't want you. I'm just a pussy. I really want to do so many things things you, I just don't know how. I've never had a girlfriend before."

You dropped the shirt, sitting next to Pesci on the couch as you leaned forward, your lips pressing against his as you let your arm wrap around his waist. As soon as your lips pressed against his, he kissed you back, his kiss being gentle and soft, his hands wrapping around your bare waist.

"Are you sure you want me? I might not please you," he whispered as you pulled away slightly. "I don't want you to be unsatisfied. You deserve to be pleased by real men."

"You are a real man," you told him, "Now do something that you want to do to me. I give you full consent to do whatever you want. I won't judge you or anything, I'm not a bitch." You felt like he was the only one of your boyfriends you could say this to aside from Ghiaccio, the other five would probably take 'full consent' to the next level.

He unfastened your bra, letting it fall, your breasts falling out. "Wow," be whispered, reaching a hand out but stopping, putting his hand down. "I'm sorry."

"Want to touch them? Or suck on them?" You questioned, trying to help him out. Part of you felt bad for neglecting him, thinking that he had no feelings for you. "I mean, think of yourself here. What does Pesci want?"

"Is your head okay? What about your fingers?" He questioned, his cock practically twitching in his pants. "Are you.." he couldn't take his eyes off of your breasts "so beautiful.. I mean.. are you okay?"

You leaned back slightly, putting your shoulders back, tucking your cast behind your back. "I'm tough, Pesci. I'm fine. I see your cock twitching."

He leaned forward slowly, taking your right nipple in his mouth. He sucked on the erect bud sloppily, his other hand reaching up, massaging your left breast. You heard a low moan escape his mouth, his arousal causing you to slowly get turned on, a small wetness forming. He bit gently, causing a low gasp to escape your lips, him immediately pulling away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

It suddenly sunk in that Pesci might be a submissive man. It seems like he really wants to explore you, but he seems to need a push. You needed to give him that push because you were only making him feel bad. You needed to relax him and make him feel good. He was a virgin, and he may be submissive. That's all fine with you. You just needed to make some moves. You could be dominant. Couldn't you?

You stood up, walking over to where he head was turned, kicking your shoes off as you pulled down the leggings and underwear you were wearing, completely stripping yourself naked. "You made me wet when you did that," you told him softly, walking to stand in front of him. "You can touch my pussy for as long as you want, feel how wet you made me."

You weren't the type to do this. You weren't bold in the bedroom, and you didn't strip unless you were told. You were submissive in every way. You hoped that he wasn't able to tell. Maybe if you just kept going, you would fall into the role naturally. Standing in front of him, fully nude, and talking dirty like this, it did turn you on. Fuck, why did these things turn you on so much?

"I actually made you.. feel something?" Pesci questioned, his hand reaching forward, two fingers on your clit, sliding down. You spread your legs slighly for him, his two fingers sliding into you. You were careful not to gasp, instead biting down on your lip. "Do I just.. move my fingers back and forth? Do you want me to do that?"

"Of course I want that," you replied, leaning forward as you began kissing him, guiding yourself on his lap, your legs being held open by his kness, leaving your pussy open for him to explore as his fingers began to push in and out of you, your tongue slipping into his mouth, hips moving into his fingers. "Wanna make love to me?" You whispered into his lips. "Tell me what you want, baby, tell me what you desire."

"I want to make love to you so bad," he whimpered, his fingers moving faster, causing you to tighten around him. "You're so wet and tight.. so pretty. I love how beautiful you are with or without clothes on."

Now that you've been spending more time with him, you realized that he really was a nice guy. A great guy, a guy that you needed to give a shot to. It was nice having someone be kind and gentle to you after the terribly painful day you had. It felt comforting in a way, and it made you actually feel like you mattered. It was a feeling that you wished would expand past sex but you feared that it might not. At least you could enjoy the moment.

Your right hand reached down, unbuttoning his pants. You unzipped his pants, trying to keep a straight face as he fingers you but your were strugging, the constant swiftness, the excitement of his movements, you couldn't help but let out a moan, pulling down his pants and underwear, his cock springing to life. "Nice," you commented, his cock standing at 7 inches. "You have a nice cock."

He blushed, his fingers slipping out of you slowly. "I.. have a condom in my wallet." He leaned down slightly, pulling out a condom. "I.. have practiced putting it on. I know how to put it on."

You took the condom out of his hand, tearing it open with your teeth, a smirk appearing on your lips as you slipped the condom over his cock. "Are you sure you're ready for this? If you don't wanna give me your virginity I'll just suck your cock. I'm okay with that."

"No, Y/N.. you are perfect. I'm more than ready," he said, his voice a whisper. "I really.. I want you."

"Then you can have me," you told him. You lifted yourself slightly, his hands wrapping around your waist as you eased your way down onto his cock, biting down on your lip as his cock filled you up. You placed your hands on his shoulders, moving your hips up and down, slighly bouncing, your breasts moving with you as you rode his cock. "Is it okay?"

"It feels amazing," he replied, face a bright red as you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down with a little more rhythm. He looked into your eyes, leaning forward as he pressed his lips into yours, kissing you gently, his right hand sliding to rest on your ass, gently rubbing as his hips began to thrust back a little bit. "Can I call you my girlfriend?"

You nodded your head, tightening around him, feeling a warmth all throughout your body. Also, you felt a warmth in your heart, it was the same feeling you got when having with Melone. "You could of always called me that," you told him, feeling yourself close to cumming. You were a little shocked, not thinking that you would feel like this with him, assuming you were just going to fake it like you did when having sex with Illuso. But you were actually feeling something, something warm and fuzzy.

"Can I cum?" He asked you, and you nodded. "I.. love you," he whispered as you felt his hand squeeze your ass, a low moan escaping his lips, causing you to orgasm, wetting the condom with your clear fluids, finishing the same time as he did. "I'm sorry I-"

"I love you too," you blurted out, your eyes widening slightly. You did not expect that to come out of your mouth at all, but you guessed what was happening between you and Pesci could be described as you two falling in love. You quickly got off of him, standing up. "Well, now that that's that. Let's go take our first awkward shower together."

[jewwyfeesh]

Things that Gradually Drift Away - 2 (2024 ver)

Writer: Mitsuki

Characters: Kanzaki Souma, Otogari Adonis

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

Adonis: Hold on. I heard that you’re not supposed to capture the fireflies during ‘Firefly Appreciation’, Kanzaki.

2024 remake of the first ever tl posted here; im still having some technical difficulties so pictures will be few. happy reading!

[ ♪ ]

Season: Summer

Location: Yumenosaki Academy Library

Souma: Adonis-dono, I’ve completed the preparations for the ‘Firefly Appeciation’.

Adonis: Mm. The mosquitoes in Japan are much smaller and weaker than those in my hometown; therefore, I just need to protect you well, Kanzaki.

Souma: ‘Protect’… Adonis-dono, the both of us are of the same age, and we’re both male.

I do appreciate you accompanying me during training sessions, but I do wish that you refrain from addressing me with the tone of voice you’d use on ladies or children.

I will cut down all that hinders me with this sword.

But, back to the topic at hand. Adonis-dono’s physique is really admirable; in comparison, it seems like I still have a ways to go with my training.

Adonis: Apologies. I did not mean to look down on you, Kanzaki.

The way my body is cannot wholly be attributed to practice. The environment in which I grew up is different from yours.

There are some bug species which are more dangerous than a large animal. One must also take precautions against the diseases they spread, even if you won’t sustain the same kind of serious injuries if attacked by a large creature.

As afterwards, there is only increasing amounts of pain that would be hard to bear… One’s life might also be in danger.

Therefore, upon hearing Akehoshi mention Japan even has ‘Firefly Appreciation’, a… custom where you sit around appreciating insects, I was rather shocked.

Souma: Ohh, so that’s why Adonis-dono was so stunned back then.

Akehoshi-dono is right. ‘Firefly Appreciation’ is a custom that has existed since ancient times.

Legend has it that everyone would dress up in their yukata, and head down to the riverbanks where the fireflies gather to watch them. Some places even hold sacrificial ceremonies, or song and dance performances.

Though, I’m sorry – my knowledge of ‘Firefly Appreciation’ only extends to what I’ve gleaned from texts.

My family would be busy preparing for the festivities every Summer, but I’ve never found a good time to participate.

I do wish to appreciate the fireflies with batchmates who share a similar interest. However, Hasumi-dono and Kiryuu-dono from our Akatsuki have been very busy during the Summer holidays; I cannot trouble them with my whims.

Not to mention, rather than ‘batchmates’, I feel like it’s more appropriate to use the term ‘seniors’ on those two…?

All in all, I’m very happy to have been able to receive Adonis-dono’s invitation this time ‘round. Time waits for no one – let’s head out now! Let’s bring all of the fireflies home… ☆

Adonis: Hold on. I heard that you’re not supposed to capture the fireflies during ‘Firefly Appreciation’, Kanzaki.

Earlier on, Akehoshi drew a map for me, but I’m unable to understand it. Could you take a look?

Souma: A map hand-drawn by Akehoshi-dono? He’s a rather enthusiastic person. Gimme gimme ♪

Erm… Hm. Adonis-dono, this… is this really a ‘map’?

The lines are a mess, very much like a child’s doodle, and it’s hard to figure out what is where. Not to mention, ‘Firefly Appreciation’ isn’t written anywhere – the destination’s not even marked out.

Only a few waves are scribbled here, with a short “the treasure is here~☆” next to it. I don’t understand what this is supposed to mean.

Is this some sort of trap, Adonis-dono…?

Adonis: Akehoshi is lively; sometimes I find myself unable to understand him. But he told me that he definitely drew the area with the most fireflies.

Souma: Oho, is that so. Despite Akehoshi-dono’s slight eccentricities, he’s not a bad guy who would bully his classmates, nor do meaningless things.

That’s the only place with words, and even an arrow pointing at it. That’s the place Akehoshi-dono wants us to go.

With this hypothesis… Ah, so it confirms things. These squarish things… These should be representative of Yumenosaki Academy. I think Akehoshi-dono used them for the school’s infrastructure.

So these large triangles can only be the mountains near the school.

We’re probably supposed to go to one of the riverbanks on that mountain. As for the particular location… It’s halfway up facing West.

This map is one that needs to be understood backwards. First, we need to ascertain the destination, then find a path to said destination. It’s a map that only people who want to go see the fireflies would understand.

As expected of Akehoshi-dono! What an interesting idea, one that’s hard to puzzle out ♪

Adonis: Kanzaki. Are ‘fireflies’ extremely precious items? Is it because they can glow? Why did Akehoshi call them ‘treasures’?

Souma: Oh. I don’t think it’s because they can ‘glow’… Fireflies are a common sighting in the Summer, and there’s a lot of other creatures that can glow too…

Our ‘Marine Bio Club’ Buchou-dono has also raised quite a few glowing fishes ♪

Speaking of which, I remember overhearing the seniors in my family talking about some legends related to the ‘fireflies’. Various ‘firefly appreciation’ performances across Japan also portray this.

I can’t say they’re bad legends per se, but… No matter how you twist it, they don’t really have any correlation to ‘treasures’ whatsoever.

Adonis: ……?

Souma: Adonis-dono, let’s just wait and see. Maybe later we’ll understand what Akehoshi-dono meant.

If I were to tell you now, I might affect your train of thought. There are some things that you should figure out for yourself instead of asking me all the time.

All in all, let’s not stand here talking mindlessly; we should set out as soon as possible. The day is no longer young after all.

[ ☆ ]

← Chapter 1 | Story Masterlist | Chapter 3 →

[goldendivinewrath]

You're not sure when Wolfwood found out your birthday or when he managed to sneak away when he's injured like he is, but someway somehow he has done both. Sure, he's getting better every day after that near-death experience, but he hasn't exactly been walking for more than twenty minutes at a time...

What's worse is that he didn't even leave a note—the window of opportunity was so short that he felt as though he didn't have time to.

And yet, he is bound and determined to find something worthy of being gifted to Vash the Stampede. Something that even partially repays an onze of the debt he owes for being on the floor more often than he is in a fight. He's still self-conscious about that.

A box of donuts isn't good enough. It's good, and he'll probably get some, but it's not good enough. He hopes a stroll through town (an exhausting stroll through town) will spur his inspiration. It has to be unique. Special, Wolfwood thinks, perhaps... overthinking. If he keeps thinking then he'll be out all day, and he's not sure he can get away with that without Vash freaking out. Vash might be freaking out right now, for all he knows.

Think Wolfwood think—what's special and within his budget?!

Wait—

They've never really... established their relationship or anything, have they? Well... that might be... would it make Vash happy? Does he even like his birthday? Ugh... maybe he prefers things ambiguous. Maybe he'd run if he brought it up...

No. He wouldn't.

One store catches his eye; it's a rock and mineral store. Sure, he'll bite. Wolfwood never really considered rocks being anything worth looking at, but he supposes if jewels exist on this barren planet, maybe there are some nice looking rocks.

The first thing he sees walking in is a basket of geodes. Those just look like rocks. Round rocks! But rocks. That's stupid. The store owner greets him, and he greets him in turn. Okay—

That's just some space metal from an old ship—is that worth anything...? Would that be nice or would it traumatize him? Surely he's overcomplicating it. There are some old pieces of tools that the original settlers and survivors created from rocks and metal... before they could get the Plants happy... hmm... Honestly, it's not worth the risk. A piece of debris could make him feel really, really awful. Something else then—

The red stones capture his eye next, so he shuffles over there. Wolfwood picks one up that seems to shimmer in the light, creating holographic patterns of red and black on the surface. Neat. It's kind of like Vash in a way, he thinks. The stone seems to be named "Beast's Eye" and, well, they're both kind of beasts in their own way, right? Then there's some more text that describes the stone as representing... 'determination, strength, and sexual vitality—'

...

The first two meanings are nice, at least. The third one... well... he's not sure either of them really need any help with that. At all.

It's cheesy, but he leaves the store with two matching worm-leather braided bracelets with Beast's Eye woven into them. One larger stone, then several smaller ones around the sides. They drain his wallet more than he'd expected, so he only grabs two donuts on the way back. Suddenly he feels nervous about the gift. Who cares about rocks?! Or symbols?! Ugh...

But he's back now, and it's too late to regret his purchase.

"Vash...?" Wolfwood creaks the door open, hoping that the blond won't chew his ear off for disappearing, "Gotcha somethin'. It's—it's not much, so... don't uh..."

He holds out the neat gift bag that contains the two donuts and the bracelet.

"Happy birthday, Vash. I'm glad you're... I'm glad you're with me. A-and stuff."

@forgivenpunishment (sorry this is so long dsjfjksldf)

From the instant the door opens enough to peer through, it's clear that Vash has been perched on one of the rickety chairs which was normally off to the side, set in the middle of the room and facing the door. Perched, because he doesn't sit in the chair as one's intended, but his feet rest on the seat cushion while he rests on the top rail. If the stiff posture and temporarily unnatural stillness could be considered resting.

His wide eyes take in the sight of Wolfwood, darting quickly to take in every visual detail he can before he relaxes enough to actually slide into the seat like a "normal human being", expression the slightest bit sheepish. Like he ought to apologize for being worried... but he doesn't. He can't find anything to say, isn't sure if there's something he's supposed to say, then Wolfwood starts speaking, hands him something and...

Curiosity overwhelms anything else, making a soft questioning chirp in the back of his throat as he reaches delicately for what's held out to him. He smells the donuts, and of course he's grateful for those even if he does have questions, but it doesn't really make sense until he spots the bracelet. He pulls the object out for inspection, moving more slowly that he usually does.

Vash goes-- Quiet. Really, really quiet. Silent and still again, save for the single flesh and blood thumb that's so very gently, slowly feeling over the stone centerpiece in the bracelet. Smooth to the touch, polished. Cool. Surrounded by well-worked, strong worm-leather. It's a nice texture, but that's not what renders him silent.

It's not what gets the most delicate, minuscule sniff from him, either. Barely a sound, hardly a breath. He should complain about coming back to the room to find Wolfwood gone. More than complain, he ought to-- He doesn't know. For a few more seconds, he keeps looking at the bracelet and steadying his breaths before admitting, "I thought maybe-- Maybe you did what I would have done. If this were... before." He admits, sounding a little bit miserable even if he's smiling. It's a tiny little upturn of lips, but it's real.

Sneaking away, he means. He suspects they both know without him needing to elaborate: sneaking away for the other man's "own good". To "keep him safe". Things he still believes might just be for the best sometimes, frankly, but... he wouldn't, not anymore. He won't. There's... some agreement. There's something there, between them, and now there's... this. A physical something.

Vash needs another couple of seconds to swallow back more emotion before he stands up and leaves the bag with the donuts on the chair. It's not exactly subtle, the way he wraps his arms around Wolfwood and gently acts as a hugging crutch. The man's healing, sure, but that doesn't mean healed.

"Thank you." They're two words. Ultimately simple, barely providing room for more than one concept, let alone the wealth of sincerity and emotion Vash breathes into them, but he does. The bracelet's still in his hand instead of on his wrist, but he doesn't want to let go of it. He doesn't want to let go. "Let's-- You should sit down. We should sit down." He says. And means. And doesn't move, except to rest his cheek against Wolfwood's shoulder. "You can, um. Put it on me..?" He waits. Waits for confirmation or permission or something before he moves them. Before he lets go, even a little.

[sporesgalaxy]

hey! i just saw your rb of your "an Origin for Queen Nothing" comic and it really struck me. ive been wanting to make comics similar to that (and i hope that isn't insensitive) but i struggle even getting started. do you remember anything of your process on that comic, and if so, would you be okay with sharing?

thank you I'm glad it could inspire you!! It's been years since I drew it, but I'll do my best

This really just ended up being me describing every scrap of symbolism, because aside from that my process was "write a poem a million times and hold the specific word meanings and emotions in my brain." How I chose what I did is difficult to explain since I have been doing this for so long, sorry...

•••

I did a lot of writing beforehand. Seems counterintuitive since there's so few words, but I'm naturally verbose so it takes me a looong time for me to boil anything down that much.

I didn't even write it with a comic in mind, I was just trying to put words to my feelings. But the changing intent of the words "not here, not like this" for each part made it suited to be paired with visuals that could guide reader enterpretation a little more. I already had in mind exactly what I meant by each word after I spent so long choosing them; the comic was just me trying to convey that more fully.

I usually don't draw comics so abstract, but it felt like a good way to maintain a sense of privacy even as I talked about very personal feelings.

as far as why I picked the visuals for each panel:

I obviously wanted a lot of empty space for the void panel, but I still wanted it to explain my words. So I tried to create a "something" to define the "nothing" around it, in the simplest visual terms I could. It was originally only one rounded black rectangle, but thag was a bit boring to look at so I added a second one. I placed the words in such a way that it would emphasize how the "something" is defining the "nothing" void around it. A void lies outside "something," whatever isn't "here" and "this."

For fear, I wanted to evoke the feeling as best I could. So black page with white text to evoke darkness was a given, and so were scratchier, shakier lines. Next, I needed to figure out how to recontextualize my words again. "Not here" in the context of fear is easy enough; being trapped or cornered, wanting to be somewhere else but being unable to get away, is the basis for a lot of different fears.

"Not like this" can be taken a lot of ways with fear; something being done to you that you don't want such as acts of violence, general fear of death, or something monsterous and horrible and Other. So the markings around those words could be interpreted as ragged gashes torn through something, or as disfigured claws, reaching towards the inescapable place around "not here."

For the hide panels, originally, I wanted these panels to be a house, but at the time I couldn't think of a pleasing way to abstract it. So it became labyrinthene speech bubbles, which I still meant to at least somewhat evoke rooms, connected nonsensically.

In the context of hiding, "not here, not like this" is directed at the self. Being told or telling oneself that one doesn't "belong," shouldn't be "here." In the "not here" panel, I call back to the void-- the figure lies mostly outside of "something" drawn intersecting them, in the same style as the "something" that the void Was Not. The speech bubble/room the person is in is stretched out of shape by their presence, intersecting a smaller speech bubble below. The person does not fit, and therefore must not "belong" there. A smaller space further away from this one offers an alternative place, "here," to hide from what the person is not.

In the next panel, the person hides in a different "room." But hiding serves only to remind that they are "not like this." The person distorts their hiding spot, despite curling up as small as possible. The original speech bubble/room where the person didn't fit is now back in its undisturbed shape, serving as a reminder that the person is "not like this."

Lastly, persisting. The black page conveys fearful darkness again, representing thenunknowable eldritch horror QN vaguely came into contact withcto become a weird monster. The white eyes and mouth emphasize emotion. The emotions are terror (left) and pain (right). They are no longer abstracted because the immensity of these feelings is greater than the feelings described in the other panels.

QN is too afraid to be anything, and denying oneself is painful, but is also too afraid to become nothing, and so holds on and endures, living in a state of unquestioned self-contradiction in many ways, out of percieved necessity. This unhealthy perception of fear and enduring pain as equivalent to safety and strength is the original core to their character. That's why the focus of these last two panels are simply fear and pain, and the "not here, not like this" simply voices a desperate desire to avoid that fear and pain.

"Not here, not like this" alienates and terrifies them away from living their life, but it is also what they hold onto to survive. This is the great contradiction at the core of Queen Nothing.

[shade-without-color]

Being subtle is questionable (Osakita drabble)

Note: So I made this in a whim from a chat with a dear friend known as BKAK colleague about certain affairs, and I know I have to write this story 😉😉, and this is being my first subtly NSFW story, some discretion would be advised, thank you BKAK colleague to be my bouncing point to my Osakita madness

In Onigiri Miya, it is expected to see the round of gossips from his regulars and new faces, when they munch upon Osamu’s onigiris, it goes simply as one drunken salesman ranting about how shitty how his job is, along with the rounds of draft beer, tourists who flocked by, with their otherwise mediocre Japanese- fumbling over the correct terms of the food, which thankfully one of his quick-witted part-timers managed to navigate through the language barrier thanks to her self-learning Spanish in her free time. (His English is mediocre at best, but he learned it along the way), and young families flocking to Onigiri Miya, which Osamu took the time to high-five every energetic kid that comes by the shop. 

However Osamu’s ears perked at the sound of the chime, to see the tanned white haired man Kita, huffing a little from the long journey from driving from his farm to his little restaurant. “Special delivery for Osamu Miya!!”, Osamu monetarily paused his motion of fluffing the rice, running over to Kita, who heaved a little deep breath. “Give me a moment….” He called one of the smaller male part-timers to help him to carry the rice packets. 

Osamu’s eyes widened to Kita peeling the banana from his pocket, slowly shoving the fruit slowly in his mouth

“Your delivery order…..” Kita whispered quietly, fluttering his eyelashes in fake bliss, before finishing the banana in one gulp. “Samu”. Osamu withheld a cough, shit this is my supplier, I just need to forget a few nights ago when we actually snog that hard at the counter. His cheeks growing more flushed at Kita’s hand purposely brushing to him.

I need to focus on signing the order and stamping it, he should be gone.

Osamu shut his eyes, trying to think of the worst situation, and right now he could think it is Atsumu stealing the last pudding cup in the fridge. “Oh….Thank you….” Constantly adjusting his cap, Kita smiled a little, unaware of the stamp slipping away from Osamu’s sweaty palms.

“Boss….the rice where do you want to put the sacks of rice….” The young part-timer Hiro shouted to him. “You seems to be dazed….” Osamu shake his head,  noticing Kita giving a cheeky smile, lost in his words. “If you need any more, come by my farm to see the new crops, my grandma asked for you though she did not…” 

“I’ll come by your farm whenever you like….”

Kita’s complexion turned red, “Yeah, excuse me….” And in thin air, Kita seems to disappear, which Osamu heaved a sigh of relief, unaware that one of the older ladies Aiko gave a side eye to Osamu. “Samu-kun…..may I have my order” Osamu gave a bow to her “Oh I am sorry….” continuously folding the onigiri back and forth.

“What is going between you two…”, Osamu frowned a little, focusing his efforts to plate it prettily . “Aiko-san….I”,  The wind chime to Akaashi, Bokuto’s husband shouting his order. “One umeboshi and one Ikura Onigiri please!” Osamu quickly distracted himself to greeting Akaashi. “Yep, coming up…” Though he hid his reddening expression with marvellous grace, focusing on making Akaashi’s order. 

“Miya-san…..” Akaashi quietly muttered to Osamu. “Thanks, seems that new author is driving me nuts…..” Osamu bowed to him. “Oh, sorry, welcome….” he quickly passed the plate of rice balls to him. “How is everything, and your husband Bokuto-san….”

“Good, expect that I heard from Bokuto-san, that your brother Atsumu may accidentally received …I would say….suggestive texts during practice, and it is addressed to Kita, your former captain….”, and perhaps too coincidentally one of his servers passed a customer broiled eggplant. Osamu gulped to himself. “Akaashi-san, do you know what is the context of the texts….”

“I do not pry on gossip like that…..” Akaashi mutter quietly, munching the onigiri. “You should ask your brother…”, Osamu gulped to himself, trying to think of few nights back when he made his way to his farm,  which they drank themselves too silly, reminiscing happy moments in their volleyball team, and perhaps get themselves too frisky. “All I know that Bokuto seems curious about this, and I do not see Atsumu being frisky with Kita….“

Osamu heaved a little. “Perhaps, curiosity will do bad for us….”, forcing himself to fold the onigiris over and over again. If he got the chance, there would be a heated FaceTime call with Atsumu over the contents of the texts.

“I am keeping my lips sealed for now Akaashi….”

“I know….” Akaashi nodded a little. “Try to be subtle next time….”

Subtleness is perhaps not their forte after all