#and I think the little one is some kind of wasp | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zevrra · 5 months ago

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—𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [⋆｡°✩]

syn: just some random sfw & nsfw hc’s i have for jayce and viktor from arcane!!

includes: gn!reader, 18(+) only, fluff, established relationships, mention of kïnks, mention of drinking/being drunk

extra(s): may flesh these out a little more at some point but these are just little thoughts i’ve had in my head recently AAA (check out my other arcane stuff if you enjoy <3)

JAYCE

a heavy sleeper!! can sleep through all 11 alarms he’s set(they’re all set 5 mins apart) but when he does finally wake up he’s somehow a morning person…wakes up full of energy and ready to start the day

drinks black coffee straight up. no sugar or cream and hates the taste but says it helps him “wake up”

sleeps in just boxers

a light WEIGHT!! it takes a total of 2 drinks before he’s buzzed. his max is probably 6 drinks before he’s almost black out drunk

takes 2 hour long showers

hums! he hums aaaalllll the time just anywhere and everywhere! is always humming some kind of tune

when he’s nervous he bites his lips

runs so so hot! like is a natural heater and is constantly warm so he prefers winter over summer

also packs on some weight during the winter like a bear getting ready to hibernate (he hates it, you LOVE IT)

i feel like he LOVES to swim

book smart not so much street smarts

is terrified of insects, specifically wasps (isn’t allergic he just thinks they’re the spawn of satan)

secretly dislikes most sweets. he doesn’t mind them but he wouldn’t reach for sweets over salty snacks if they’re offered

oh he looooooves spicy food!

pet name king. loves calling you everything but your name. especially enjoys calling you “baby” or “babe”

physical touch is 100% his love language!! keeps his hands on your waist or your back he just enjoys touching so much

clingy

clean and perfect handwriting

he’s also either a really good cook or a really bad one i can’t decide jshsjsjd

when he has a bad day he droops like a little rain cloud but is so easy to cheer up

has two left feet and dances for shit (does it anyway because he enjoys it)

is a whole ray of sunshine; laughs with his whole chest, smiles just as bright as the sun, always looking on the bright side of things

[—NSFW BELOW]

obedient asf!!

literally loves being told what to do and how good he makes you feel

is the definition of service top

THRIVES OFF PRAISE!

stamina goes CRAZY, takes some pretty good build up before he comes

100% is a munch

he loves coming home, shutting off his brain from being at the lab for too long, and sitting between your thighs while he makes you feel good

begs for you to sit on his face

begs in general all day every day for it though

“pleaseee pretty… let’s just sneak away…”

says please so much it’s incorporated in his everyday vocabulary

loves kissing too

wild rutting thrusts, fast and rough reaching the deepest parts of you with ease

list of kinks i think he would have; public outings, bareback, begging (receiving or giving), marking (hickies), püssy/cöck worshipping, size kink, breeding, exhibitionism, face sitting/fucking, somno (w/consent!), and sqüirtïng

is huge and he knows it

thick at the base, keeps his girth until the very tip, where he’s a light brownish-pink. veiny and girthy; 7.5 inches

VIKTOR

rarely EVER sleeps (at most he sleeps for prob 5 ish hours every night) but when he does it’s never in an actual bed; says sleeping anywhere else is more comfortable than a bed

a light sleeper for sure, he def wakes up at every little noise and it drives him nuts

is NOT a morning person. he wakes up groggy and irritated before he morning coffee

always asks for “five more minutes” when he needs to get up

either he sleeps in the clothes he wore the day before or when he actually changes he wears a t-shirt and swaps between shorts or actual sleep pants

sometimes needs to be reminded to eat because he gets so focused on working in the lab he forgets to eat a lot

is actually a decent cook! can make basic and simple dishes but nothing extraordinary

drinks very rarely and when he does it takes him chugging liquor to get drunk

messy but pretty handwriting (only he can read it)

a blanket HOG! he has to be fully wrapped up in at least 2 blankets before he can get comfortable enough to sleep

always runs cold and favors summer over winter!

it just gives you a nice excuse to hold his hand out in public

will drop something on purpose just so he can bend over and struggle to pick it up then act like you’re being mean to him jshshfk

will hit you with his cane if you ask him a stupid question

has the BIGGEST SWEET TOOTH

secretly snuck candy whenever he could growing up so now he constantly has it on him

says it helps him focus if he has a little bit of sugar

is actually packed full with sarcasm and makes so many sarcastic comments throughout the day

doodles when he’s trying to figure out an equation

his pet names for you consist more of “my love” or “darling”

his love language is quality time and gift giving (while he HATES receiving gifts)

writes you notes and leaves them around everywhere for you to accidentally stumble across and see

if you manage to get him to accept a gift, he uses/takes it everywhere with him

[—NSFW BELOW]

is a power bottom!

loves it when you dress up for him

SENSITIVE KING

oh he’s so sensitive, especially around his thighs

comes so so so easily (but can go several times in a row)

like a little handjob and some kissing could have him weak in the palm of your hand

well placed, slow, and methodical thrusts. never misses and it always leaves you breathless.

after a really good night spent together is about the only time he’ll ever sleep comfortably in a bed (next to you of course)

would try ANYTHING once

is not shy when it comes to telling you when he wants to fuck

will grab you by the waist with his cane and pull you closer to him just to tell you he wants you sitting in his lap right now

gives me a lil bit of a brat vibes

“why don’t you try asking nicely darling.”

list of kïnks i think he would be into: dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, choking, blindfolds, biting/marking, degradation/praise, püssy/cöck worshipping, oral, cüm play, roleplay (secretly loves professor/teacher stuff)

not as thick as jayce but he makes up for it with length, pale until the tip where he’s a pretty pink. slightly curved upwards, 6 inches

#zevrra zevrra!#zevrra’s hc’s #spicy zev!!#arcane #arcane hcs #arcane fluff #jayce arcane #arcane jayce #viktor arcane #jayce headcanons #viktor headcannons #jayvik #jayvik x reader #gn!reader #jayce x gn!reader #viktor x gn!reader #my personal hc’s btw!

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bogleech · 6 months ago

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In your general appreciation of nature, I am curious about your take on this - do you believe nature has reached "peak complexity"?

There was a time without flying animals. There was a time without land animals. There was a time without vertebrates, without segmented exoskeletons, without fur, without feathers, without complex social structures, without eyes. There was a time without plants, or any kind of photosythesis. There was a time without multicellular life.

But at this point, do you feel nature on planet Earth has evolved all "milestones" there are (and from now on, all additional complexity will have come from civilization, one way or another)?

I mean in terms of potential, assuming for a moment "nature" of some kind still exist during the next billion years or so.

Yes or No would be enough (lol), but of course spec evo ideas would be even cooler!

Nah I think there's absolutely infinite things nature could evolve some day that we can't even imagine. You really never know. Like it's 100% biochemically possible for something to "breathe fire;" there just has to be a sequence of mutations and the right competition to gradually make it happen, possibly starting with something that sprays boiling hot compounds like a bombardier beetle. I could also imagine a whole class of animals evolving like the modular people from All Tomorrows, because we already have Siphonophores. It's just a matter of something evolving to be a colony that can also come apart and keep functioning. I'm also obviously obsessed with the concept of a creature that weaponizes its own little symbiotic bugs, since I've used that a million times. Like maybe millions of years from now, a descendant of sloths will have upgraded from being full of moths to being full of tiny wasps? And then what if that's so effective they actually start diversifying like crazy and there's a whole era dominated by mammaloid wasp nest beasts ranging from grazers merely cleaned and guarded by their insects to predators who hunt with their assistance. Plant/animal physical symbiosis is also another thing that's not really taken off outside a few insects. Why shouldn't a plant some day decide it likes growing on some kind of animal's body? It's not a plant, but lichens grow on a species of weevil. It's so rare there aren't even photos, but I swear I saw video of one on BBC when I was a kid:

What if a moss adapts just to the shell of some big reptile and eventually the reptile starts to derive sustenance from it too?? Over time what if this evolves into basically real life Bulbasaurs, where the animal part can be sustained off sunlight? It'd just have to slow its animal metablism way, waaay down to meet the plant halfway. Maybe it hibernates for years and years at a time or spends decades developing like a cicada and then it emerges in pure mating mode, using up all the food it conserved as its flower finally blooms. I know most of my examples are now elaborations on something that's kind of almost already begun happening somewhere but you get the idea. Furthermore you never know if all life as we know it will die out one day while there's still a couple billion years left of the planet's physical existence. Then a whole new line of life could evolve that we can't conceive of at all, from the ground up. Like crystalline mineral trees that start talking to each other with laser light. Or maybe only bacteria are left but for some reason bacteria develop what they need to start sticking together and building a new kind of multicellular organism. What the heck would an equivalent to "animals" look like if the ancestor was a bacterium????? Holy fuck I'm mad I won't see it. Fuming and seething actually. This is the worst thing ever. Why am I doomed to die on regular animal planet with google bots and disney remakes. I wanna see salmonella animal planet. It's not fair.

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insert-content · 2 years ago

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a summar(ule)y of 196 culture

since the tumblr veterans have been kind enough to introduce us newbies to their site and culture, i think it is only fair that we explain the culture of our glorious former home to any tumblr users who might be interested in the #196 tag. keep in mind, all these things are based on my perspective of the situation.

first of all, some general information (that you might’ve already heard):

196 (r/196 on reddit) was a subreddit with only one (official) rule; "post before you leave." it was mainly a meme/shitposting sub, but it cultivated a large queer and left-leaning community. in protest of the recent api chances in reddit, 196 has shut down indefinitely until reddit reverts these changes.

now for some culture/references that you might come across

spronkus kronkus:

spronkus is this yellow, rabbit-like creature.

they were the mascot of our subreddit. their appearance can vary from images to image, but as far as i’m aware, their full outfit consists of a bandanna in the colours of the trans flag around their neck, a gun labelled as such (other wise you obviously wouldn’t know what you’re looking at), and an axe also coloured like the trans flag.

r/place:

this is a rare event on reddit where the entire website gets a huge white canvas and can start creating pixel art on it. 196 participated by collaboratively creating our mascot, spronkus with "196!" written next to them.

this version of the pixel art was recreated by me as i couldn't find a nice image of it. there were some changes between the first version and the end result, so this might not be exactly how it looked in the end

post titles/"rule":

reddit forces it's users to title every post they make. as most of the posts on 196 spoke for themselves, many user instead titled their posts "rule", to indicate that they followed the subreddit's only rule. some people also tried to make puns with the word or tried to include it in words that shared some letters (example: wor(ule)d).

anarcho-stripperism:

as the amount of cropped porn jokingly posted to the subreddit increased, the moderators decided that porn would be banned from the sub, with one exception: anarcho-stripperism. she made food fucking videos, in which she jokingly tested the fuckability of different food items (fruits, pasta, etc.)

bigotry showcase:

bigotry showcase was a post flair (basically the reddit equivalent of tags) on the subreddit and was later restricted to only be used on saturdays. under this flair people posted instances of different forms of bigotry to make fun it.

eating babies/hungryposting:

at some point, the subreddit started to pretend to like eating babies, which started a variety of memes regarding the subject. even a post flair called "hungrypost" was added because of this

goblinhog:

goblinhog is the most prominent and well-known member of the 196 moderation team. besides this, on 196 he was mostly known for changing people’s flair if you enjoyed him enough about it.

flairs:

flairs are little tags that are displayed under your name in posts or comments, they are also subreddit specific. most subreddits give their users a palette of preset flairs and the option to make your own custom flair. however, in 196 you only had the option to customize your flair during special events. if you wanted to customize your flair outside of those events (which was basically the entire time), you had to ask a mod to do it for you.

punching nazis:

from time to time, the same gif of a person with a nazi armband getting punched in the face, and promptly falling to the ground, was reposted to the subreddit. this became a sort of tradition.

discourse/drama

wasp discourse:

the wasp discourse was a one to two weeks long heated discussion that generally divided the subreddit into two factions. one side said that they were justified in killing wasps if they were attacked by them, while the other claimed that since wasps are just animals, they aren't aware of what they're doing in the same way humans are, and therefore should be spared.

drama about the british:

there was a time when jokes along the lines of "ew, british" became pretty frequent on the subreddit. as a response, some user claimed that this was akin to racism and tried to get others to stop with the jokes. a debate over whether or not it was important or necessary to stop followed afterwards.

pillar discourse:

this was a debate over which type of pillar should be considered the best (ionic; doric; corinthian). i have seen the question "which pillar is the best?" being used as a sort of greeting between 196 refugees on here.

related subreddits

195:

195 was the predecessor to 196, and also was a social experiment with the same premise as 196 (one rule, post before you leave). as the creators of 195 ended the experiment, the community wanted something with the same vibe to continue posting, and thus 196 was born.

197:

197 is another part of the 196 ecosystem and is commonly understood to be the more politically right-leaning and bigoted as 196, as some people who were banned from 196 continued posting there. besides that, the subreddits were essentially the same in terms of how they functioned.

19684:

this subreddit adds a second rule which banned all mentions of sex (that’s why it’s name is a pun on 1984). some people took this as banning all discussion of sexuality, which resulted in a community that was slightly less accepting of queer people. it is currently still up and running as the 196 moderation team wants a way to stay in contact with the community.

amendments to the posts:

u/femboy_expert:

another well-known 196 user. as the name suggests they're an expert on the subject of femboys, with their flair on 196 reading "phd in feminine boys". as the subreddit was somewhat obsessed with femboys, it's no wonder that they became popular.

u/shitcum_backup:

this was the main account of a pretty popular shitposter on the subreddit. although i didn't see them as much in the last few months, i remember them sometimes having a unique speaking pattern, in which they referred to themself in the third person.

u/monko74:

this user commented "Every day I thank god for not making me a r/196 celebrity," which led to many users of the subreddit treating them like a micro celebrity. there are even a few subreddits solely dedicated to u/monko74.

691:

a sister subreddit that inverts the rule of 196, here you would be (temporarily) banned for posting. some time ago the members of this sub initiated a rebellion/revolution against the bot who performed all the bans (roomba).

u/Smart_Calendar1874:

this wasn’t necessarily part of the subreddit, but it was a pretty popular meme. and since it’s getting posted on here again, and i know enough about it, i’ll add it to the post. this user made a post to r/AskReddit titled "How would you get a small cylinder (5.1in length, ~4.5in girth) unstuck from a mini M&Ms tube filled with butter and microwaved mashed banana? [sic]" it was pretty clear that they were referring to their penis, yet they continued to claim "it’s a cylinder," in the comment section. this lead to comments like "it is imperative that the cylinder […] remains unharmed," in response to people’s advice of cutting the m&m tube.

it's going to be very interesting to see which aspects of 196 culture are going to survive the tumblr migration, and which aspects won't be applicable on this site.

i'm obviously not the ultimate scholar on 196 lore. if i’ve missed or left out anything, or said something wrong, please comment it.

#196 #spronkus kronkus #r196 #r/196 #196archive #tumblr migration #rip 196 #196 campfire #196 migration

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powdermelonkeg · 10 months ago

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Trying to figure out TP Link's diet based on his environment.

Livestock-wise, we've got cuccos and goats. That means

Eggs

Milk

Butter

Cheese

Potentially meat, but I don't think they get eaten unless they're old. Too valuable otherwise | EDIT: Oh yeah you need to breed goats every couple years to get milk. Add in cabrito veal!

And we know for a fact that Ordon Goat Cheese specifically is a thing. Stamped wheel and everything.

There's also fish

And bees/hornets(? It's called bee larva, but the enemy is a Hylian Hornet)

Useful for bait, but Link can eat them.

Did some more research, and apparently in Japan they eat wasp larvae? Specifically in Kushihara. So I'm counting it.

Then plants-wise we have pumpkins

And...corn. Somehow. I've never seen corn growing, but Link has some hanging in his house, so it exists.

I'm choosing to believe it comes from these plants that grow in patches around Ordon.

That gives us a lot. We've got

Cornstarch

Cornmeal

Corn oil

Corn shoots

Pumpkin seeds

Pumpkin seed oil

Pumpkin flour

Pumpkin blossoms

No source of sugar, but depending on how the pumpkins in Ordon taste, they could be naturally sweet. Like pie pumpkins. Also corn syrup is a thing if it's a sweet corn. So corn syrup needs cream of tartar which comes from grapes and apples and such. It's a byproduct of wine. No corn syrup.

Edit: Malt sugar, though!

Now for hypothetical foods.

Ordon is surrounded by pine trees, so that adds pine needle tea and pine nuts to the mix. I was a little worried about species, but apparently there are a lot of pine trees that make edible seeds, so on the list it goes.

Then there are frogs near Rusl and Uli's house, wild songbirds on cliffs, and a squirrel that talks to Link directly, so those are huntable sources of meat.

Is horse grass a cattail? Maybe? Initially, I thought it was—the ends look like cattail seedpuffs, but the leaves are completely different.

I want to treat them like cattails. Cattails that also are probably the main food source for Epona and the goats.

If we do that, that means, on top of all the other uses cattails have like stuffing and tinder and antiseptic, we get

Roots

Shoots

Ground seeds

Can't find a good match for hawk grass though. Concluding that that's not edible. Equivalent exchange and all.

Side note, how do you think horse grass spreads? It's almost always in groups of two or more plants, so that suggests rhizomes, but the image of Link picking one up to blow and stuffing flying out the end of the horseshoe is hilarious to me.

Up next, there are ferns, primarily near trees. After very careful and way-too-deep analysis of a pixelated fern's leaves, I think it's bracken fern.

Which is mildly poisonous.

And also edible.

On the list it goes!

Then finally, Sera has some kind of herb hanging in her shop.

I don't know what it is. I'm calling it Ordon Spice. Congratulations, Ordon Pumpkin Spice is now a thing.

#long post #twilight princess #loz #zelda #analysis #theory #worldbuilding #hello it is bee being a nerd about zelda hours again

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revelboo · 4 months ago

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Who is your favorite Cybertronian to write for? If you don't mind me asking!

To write for? I think I’m having the most fun writing the Scavengers right now. I like dysfunctional group dynamics, but the Trine’s probably my second favorite group. For a single Cybertronian? Probably Wasp 😆

I’m so sorry for this- but I have weird ideas early in the morning and couldn’t help but think there’d be a reality out there where the war ended before it reached Earth. That maybe Earth gets discovered by Swindle and a few other opportunists. And he’d just be scooping up humans by the handfuls to sell as ‘pets/toys.’

18+ 🌶️

No Strings

Rainmakers x Reader

• “Nova’s just under a lot of stress lately and I’d heard that you-” Words faltering as Acid Storm follows Swindle into the back of the ship and his optics slide up to the video screens playing above the rows of cages. Wings flicking slightly at the sounds, the whimpers and moans. “Ah.” What was he saying? When he’d heard about Swindle’s operation, he’d laughed at first. Because it had sounded like a bad joke. But then he’d kept thinking about it. Gotten curious.

• “Nothing better for stress than a good frag,” Swindle says, grinning and gesturing to the row of cages. “And fragging is pretty much all these things do. Why they’re separated. They may take some breaking in and training, but I’ve got all the supplies you’ll need.” Turning to watch the Seeker bend to look into a cage, frowning when the human scoots to the far side. “They’re a bit skittish at first.” Why he’d paid Shockwave to synthesize him doses of what Swindle had affectionately dubbed Playtime. A little chemical pheromone, that when added to their water guaranteed not only cooperation, but enthusiasm. And a continued source of shanix after the initial sale as his buyers returned for more.

• “They look kind of like squishy, little Cybertronians,” Acid Storm mutters as he taps the front of a cage to send the little creature inside scurrying to the back, chattering at him. Is it speaking? “Are they sentient?” Drifting to the next cage, his wings flick. Keeps getting distracted by the vids.

• “Of course not. Smart enough to train, though.” Folding his arms behind his back, Swindle watches the Seeker wander around the room to inspect the pets. “That said, all sales are final and no sampling the merchandise.”

• Stopping at a cage with a pet curled into a back corner, he taps the door. Frightened eyes lift to stare at him, but you’re not leaking like some of the pets at least or screaming. Seem docile enough as you turn your little face away, hair brushing your shoulder. Submissive might be fun. “Can I see this one?”

• They’re back. When the monstrous robots show up, someone gets taken away. And they’d stopped in front of your cage. When you’d woken up confused and frightened here, you’d tried to talk to the guy in the cage beside yours only to realize you couldn’t understand each other. Hadn’t been able to yell loud enough over the damn porn looping on the screens to be heard by anyone who spoke your language either. And the robot acting as caretaker either can’t understand you or doesn’t care. When the familiar one opens your cage door, you make a doomed attempt to avoid that big hand and cry out when you get pinned to the side of the cage and grabbed anyway. As they talk about you in their growling, alien gibberish, you try to wriggle free before realizing how high up you are. Don’t know what they want with you, but given the porn? You’re have a pretty good idea and you sincerely hope you’re wrong. Because there’s no way you’re meant for that with these giants.

• Venting softly as Swindle lifts you free and places you in his hands, Acid Storm can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his servos as he strokes soft skin. And you go still and docile in his grip, breathing rapidly. Afraid or cold? You’re shivering against him. Running a servo up your frame to tip your chin his way, you grab on with both tiny hands. Head lifting from those pretty eyes when Swindle brings over a little harness and carefully puts in on you, attaching a length of leash. “That’s too short,” he says and Swindle just grins.

• “Not when you’re mass displaced. Trust me, you’ll want it for training them to take a spike.” Filling a crate with food, water, and blankets, he holds up the bottle of Playtime. “Before you try to frag them, dose them. Just make sure not to exceed the recommended dosage.” Otherwise their little hearts can stop, but he keeps that to himself, seeing the Seeker already frowning. “They can be a bit skittish the first time. You’ll want this.”

• Frowning as Swindle adds the tiny bottle to your supplies, he runs a servo over you and glances up at the screens. “How much for the pet?”

#transformers x reader #acid storm #Acid Storm x Reader #rainmakers x reader

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metaphorfordeath · 3 months ago

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Anti-Psychotic

A person living with schizophrenia finds that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Originally published in the Fall/Winter II issue of Diet Milk Magazine, available here. Content warnings for depiction of psychosis, violence, ableist language.

No one is watching me.

Julie has me write that down at our session. She never listens to me. She says, it can be comforting to realize that people don’t think of you as much as you think they do. I know this already. She asks, what evidence do you have that you are being watched? I say there isn’t any. Just a feeling. She writes something down, and asks about my meds again.

So fucking patronizing. Of course I take them. I have taken mine like clockwork, every day, for five years. Maybe I missed a few days, but who doesn’t forget sometimes. My meds are cleat spikes jabbing into the earth. Helping me keep my footing. Making sure I don’t slip.

Last week I started getting the prickle again. Like fingers up my back. Someone standing behind me, breathing. I live alone. When I felt it, I wasn’t scared at first. These things happen sometimes. I’ve been around the block. The prickle and I are old friends, practically. When it finds me, I have ways to forget it.

I drew the blinds, which helped a bit. I had a drink—nobody's perfect—but the prickle didn’t dull. So I peeked through the shades at the street below. Normal street stuff. The sun was setting, painting the world in shades of fire. Cars went by, all the usuals. Some kids were yelling in a driveway. A wasp tapped at my window, wiggling its feelers at me. No obvious source for the prickle. So, probably nothing. For the rest of the evening I puttered, read my book, ate some frozen nothing heated in the microwave, and took my meds. The prickle was temporary, I told myself as I lay down to sleep, the usual fog settling over me in a cool, clammy layer. No one was watching me. No one ever is.

That was a week ago. It’s only gotten worse since then. The prickle turned into a terrified stomach ache that kept me up for nights and nights. I called in sick to group, told Cheryl the caseworker that I have the flu. She sounded alarmed, but she’s only worried because of what happened to Devin.

Devin was like me: good at meds, good at therapy. We were friends, in a psycho kind of way. A few weeks ago, Devin started to get bad. Stopped showing up to group, didn’t even call. I haven’t seen him in a while, even when I went looking for him in his usual bad places. I miss him. I told Cheryl not to worry. I’m steady, just sick. I’ll see her again soon.

I keep taking my meds, but they aren’t helping like they should. The fog I count on to sleep is thin, or missing. Something scrabbles at my skin from underneath, and I keep catching myself scratching little bits off of me. When I lay down, a low, neutral voice whispers nonsense at me through the pillow I clamp over my head. I can’t shower; that’s when the prickle gets stronger. Someone standing on the other side of the shower curtain, someone looking down at me through the water stain on the ceiling. I hiss and babble out loud just to hear myself talk, to shut up the voices that aren’t mine. I get sicker by the day.

By now I haven’t been outside in over a week, but my meds are ready to pick up. I don’t want to miss a dose, so I put on shoes and the big jacket that makes me feel safe, and I go outside. Birds leer at me from the tops of buildings. Walking in the opposite direction, an old lady frowns at me.

“Hmph, same to you,” she snaps.

My stomach lurches, but I don’t say anything, just keep walking. I hadn’t spoken. Had I?

The drug store is brightly lit. It hurts to be inside. Too many things to look at. Faces on packaging look strange now. Confrontational. Interrogative. But at least they look like faces. When I look at anyone real, their features shift. Static snow eats at the air around their heads in a halo. It frightens me, so I keep my eyes on my shoes. The pharmacy tech who’s always there gets the packet for me, rings it up.

“Any questions about your medication?” he asks. I shake my head, pay with a card. He has glasses that give his face a sort of stability, so I look at it. His eyes are brown, beard gray, no hair on his head. He smiles at me. “Have a nice day, miss.”

“You too,” I mutter.

And then I go home, have to stop myself from running for safety. The walk is twenty minutes each way; harrowing, the passing cars huge and hungry, huffing and snorting at me. The prickle is more than a prickle by now. It feels like someone is pulling out the hairs on the back of my neck, one by one. My heart thuds against my ribs so hard that I’m afraid it will burst out, plop on the sidewalk and keep throbbing without me. The paper bag with my pills turns damp and tattered in my sweaty hand.

And getting home doesn’t even help this time.

Julie says too much TV can be a trigger for me, but I start leaving it on all the time. Noise beats silence, any day. No empty spaces that need filling. I can’t watch sitcoms or anything fictional, so I tune it to the news. The news is always. Steady, real, factual. There’s a story about a body they found by the freeway. Pushed out of a moving car. No one knows or cares who it was. There’s a picture of the scene, taped up yellow and covered in those little numbers that say where a bit of evidence is. A tattered jacket lays in a ditch, dark with blood.

I stand and race to the bathroom, cool porcelain against my hands, bile and nothing coming up as sweat pours down my back. My head pounds, edges of my vision sparkling. I can only see the jacket. Not dirty or bloody or ruined but the way it used to look. Devin’s jacket.

Something is horribly wrong. Men-in-black wrong. The-end-is-nigh wrong.

The prickle wasn’t imagination. It was intuition.

Someone got Devin. Who else did they get before him?

---

The next week, I force myself to go to group. I need to see faces. See who else is there, or not. Cheryl picks me up for these, since I don’t drive. I’m sicker than I can remember being, and try to remember to ask Julie about my dose on Tuesday. I sit silently in the passenger seat, feeling Cheryl’s eyes on me. Caseworkers all have the same eyes.

“Feeling alright today, X?”

My name isn’t the name she calls me. You don’t need to know it.

“Fine,” I say, pinching my hands between my knees. They shake if I don’t. “Still getting over that flu.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she says. Her sedan has beige fabric seats. The passenger seat is dark, stained with sweat and whatever else from all the people she’s ferried around. A vanilla air freshener dangles from the rear view mirror.

Someone shouts in my ear, so close I feel a little blast of hot breath on my neck, and I flinch. Cheryl looks at me suddenly.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t hear that. “Yeah. Sorry. Weird itch.”

“Hmm.”

Group is fine. It’s usually fine. I don’t say much this time, just look around at everyone in their folding chairs. Their faces are wrong. It makes me nauseous to look, but I look anyway. I need to see who isn’t here.

There are no empty chairs, but there are fewer. One or two down from usual. All the other regulars are here, picking at their skin or looking at the clock or chewing their hair. I glance across the room and for a second I think I see Devin, sitting in his old coat. But when I look again, it’s just Tom. I almost hoped.

When it’s over, there’s bad coffee to drink. I suck on a red straw and let the bitter taste anchor me to my tongue. I inhabit my body, touch my fingers to the side of my face to know that it and my fingers exist. Sufficiently convinced of my realness, I go to Amber, our de facto leader.

She’s drinking water from a bottle with cucumber slices in it, cloudy with pulp and seeds. Ectoplasmic. It makes my stomach turn.

“Amber,” I say. My voice feels far away. She looks at me, expectant. “I missed last week. Have you seen Greg, or Mariah?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. Greg was here last week, but I haven’t seen Mariah since like, last month. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows. I focus on that, since the rest of her features won’t stay put. “You’re worried because of what happened to Devin?”

“I think Devin is dead.” There is a sudden hush as other people in my vicinity overhear. “I saw his jacket. On the news.”

Cheryl appears beside me. “X, would you like to talk in the hallway?”

She pulls me out before I can answer. “Have you been feeling alright?” she asks again. “Taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I say, a little forcefully. She clicks her tongue.

“Really? Because if you need to move up your next appointment, I can make some arrangements for you.”

Despite the fact that I do want to move my appointment up, her tone hits a button in my brain and my face turns red. “No,” I say. “I’ll wait until the next one. I’m fine. I just need to know what’s happening.” A rancid taste creeps up the back of my throat. “Where are people going?”

“Honey, everyone’s here that needs to be here.”

“No—that’s not right. I need to know.”

I can tell from the way she moves that she thinks I’m getting agitated. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “People call in sick sometimes. You did, just last week. Mariah was having issues sticking with the program, so we’re working something out. No one’s gone.”

“Devin is gone. Devin is dead. He’s dead and no one knows it.”

Cheryl comes closer, her voice so low and venomous that it starts to meld with the others. “I’m going to give Dr. Bern a call and try to get you in with her sooner than Tuesday. If you can’t keep up with your regimen, we’ll have to consider another in-patient stay.”

Anger chokes me until my vision goes white. “Okay,” is all I can manage. I have some unsavory thoughts, which I won’t repeat to you now.

“Good,” says Cheryl, holding my leash. “Let’s get you home.”

I don’t sleep. I don’t even try. Someone is watching me. I think about Devin, the last time we spoke before he was gone. He got paranoid, too. He jabbered sometimes, when we would see each other. The same face, he said, with glass eyes. Looking at him. Following him. He said his pills were replaced, his furniture moved, nothing looked the same as he’d left it. No one listens to me, he said. I’m scared, he said. I’m scared of what will happen next.

“I’m scared, too,” I say to no one. A chorus laughs at me.

---

“So,” says Julie. “Cheryl told me you’ve been having some trouble sticking to your medication.”

“I stick to it,” I say, and set the pill bottle on the desk in front of her. “Count them and tell me I’m not.”

She doesn’t move to count them. I’d hoped at least that she would humor me. “It sounds like some of your persecutory thoughts are returning. Tell me about what you’re worried about.”

“I saw on the news that they found someone’s body in a ditch off the interstate. They showed pictures. I think the body was Devin.”

“Devin from your group?” I nod. “We actually just heard from him last week. His brother answered when we called his phone. Devin is currently in a private rehabilitation clinic in Cincinnati. He’s alright, X.”

A numb feeling falls over me all at once, like a sheet. Something crawls up my thigh and disappears into a deep hole in my flesh. “Oh.”

“Amber talked to us, too. She said you asked her about Greg and Mariah’s absences this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I followed up on those for you, too. Greg had an accident at home and was in the emergency room during your meeting time this week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to reach Mariah personally, but her father informed me over the phone that her family has pulled her out of the program. She won’t be returning.” Julie leans across her desk. “X, can you please look at me?”

I look at her. Her face is twisted, like a mask, papier mâché, drooping strips of plaster bandage. The static threatens to consume her, and me.

“I’m going to increase your dose to eighty milligrams. For now you can take two of what you have at the usual time, but I’m sending in a new prescription to the pharmacy.” She scrawls something on a pad at hand, and I take the opportunity to look away. “I’ll see you again this time next week, okay? And if anything’s the matter, you can call the nurse’s hotline. We’ll take care of you.” She hands me the script.

“Thank you,” I say, and then someone brings me home. I am silent for the drive. Thinking.

Wasn’t Devin an only child?

I start doubling my dose. The fog doesn’t come. The prickle intensifies into ceaseless paranoia. I check the window locks three times a day to make sure, even though I live on the third floor. Chair under the doorknob, empty bottles stacked on it so I’ll hear if someone comes. I can’t stop thinking about Devin, and the others. Were they all really fine? Was this just a breakthrough-breakdown, pills ceasing their function and leaving me alone, spiraling?

I hadn’t tried calling Devin in weeks. He didn’t pick up the first few times, and anyone in that state doesn’t usually want to talk anyhow. But Julie said someone answered when they called. Maybe they would answer for me.

The phone buzzes. Surging forward and receding, like a tide. Devin could be there on the other end. Getting better. Being cared for. I close my eyes and wait to hear his voicemail, or something else.

Click. “Hello?”

The voice startles me so much I can’t speak. A stranger.

“Hello?” says the phone. “Who is this?”

“Um,” I say suddenly, “Devin?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Devin isn’t here right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m—his friend. X,” I clarify. My voice is not of me. “Can I talk to him soon?”

“No, unfortunately he can’t talk. But I’ll let him know you called, he’ll be happy to hear people are checking up on him.”

“What’s—who are you?”

“I’m Eric, Devin’s brother. I’m taking good care of him, miss. Have a nice day.”

The call ends. Something in my stomach shrivels. I run to the bathroom, but there’s nothing to bring up. I don’t know why that voice scared me so much. Why had I thought Devin was an only child? He hadn’t mentioned his family—maybe I’d just assumed, or forgotten if he’d said. Of course he had a brother. He was alright. They all were, now.

---

Days pass. Bugs make their homes in me. My medication runs out, the new pills ready for pickup. I’d rather die than set foot outside. But I need my stability. I steel myself to leave, and exit my apartment into the world.

Everyone looks at me. They all want to hurt me. A car drives slowly past me and I try not to look at the people inside. My head hurts. It’s hard to see where I’m going, but I go.

The drug store is bigger than it was last time. Brighter. Angrier. People avoid me as I shuffle towards the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist who’s always there smiles at me again.

“Do you have any questions about your medication?”

I shake my head, fumbling for my card. He’s staring at me through his glasses.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

His voice makes me want to puke. I shake my head again, take the pills and make for the door. A crowd of voices shout at me as I stagger out into the air. I miss the way things were. My cleats don’t fit anymore. I tear the bag open, pop the lid off the bottle and shake a pill into my mouth, force it down dry and sticky and hope it does its job. My mouth is sweet where it lingered. It didn’t used to be so sweet.

There is a dull shock of understanding that blooms at the edge of my mind. The prickle rises on the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder again. The pharmacist is looking at me from his position behind the counter. His face ringed in static. He waves at me. And I take off running.

There is no one I can call. No one who will listen. There are only doors that will slam in my face, white speckle tile and fluorescent lights and needles. He knows that. He knew it for Devin, too. He knew it for the rest of them. The wind in my face feels like fingers grasping at me, tugging at my hair, slowing me down. I race home, up the stairs and lock the door, brace it with furniture and then I sit on the floor and cry and cry. They’re laughing at me. Trading whispers. Look how stupid. Look how gullible. Go on and cry, crybaby.

So I do. It’s all I have left.

The next time it’s group, I don’t come to the door. Cheryl calls me, but I don’t answer. There will be a wellness check if I don’t come. I want them to, now. When her calls finally stop piling up, I wait fifteen minutes, then step outside. I leave my door open, leave what I can to show that I am gone. I leave the pills out, and the script. Crush a few with my heel for good measure. I hope they can put the pieces together.

It’s dark, cool. It reminds me of the fog, makes me wish I could sleep. Eyes follow me through the evening. Headlights burn me as cars move past. I walk slowly in my big jacket, letting myself be watched. Letting the prickle come up my neck, creep over my scalp, trickle down over my face until it covers me in a thin layer and I prickle all over. The prickle and I are old friends. It tells me when to be afraid.

Then there are headlights at my back that don’t go away. The growl of an engine crashes into me. I stop walking, and someone gets out. I don’t turn to look. I can’t stand to look at faces anymore. Suddenly, I have a funny thought. Maybe I do have some questions about my medication, after all.

Something whistles through the air above my head, and the world disappears.

When I wake up later, I’m not sure if I have. There are stars. It smells like gasoline, copper and dirt. My jacket is gone. My mouth is gone, too. My hands. You’re caught, someone says in my ear, you let it happen. With my eyes, which I still have, I look across the floor. It hurts to look. There’s blood under me, sticky black. The prickle is gone. I discovered its source.

I’m alone for a long time. It’s hard to say how much. I realize that there’s a door behind me when it opens. Light falls across the floor, yellow tractor beam coming to take me away. I long to be weightless, but the earth won’t let me. Then the pharmacist who is always there puts his shoe against my face and turns me over. He doesn’t speak. He crouches down and looks into my eyes like he is trying to take something from me. Then he takes the tape off my mouth.

All I do at first is scream. It's all my body knows how to do. He sits and watches me. When I can see his mouth, it’s smiling, and I realize he likes it when I scream. So as soon as I can, I stop. Silence rushes back into the gaps, roaring in my ears.

“Good girl,” he says when I am quiet. His voice is a distorted growl, infrasound, rattling my eardrums. “Aren’t you such a good girl?”

I think about his throat in my teeth. I think about his blood on my face. For a moment it feels like I am lunging for him, jabbing thumbs into soft and fragile places. But he still has my hands, turning numb and purple at the small of my back. So I sit up as much as I can and spit at the floor near his feet. Faster than my eyes can track, he lurches forward. Fist in my hair, hauling me up to hip height.

He looks into my face with his glass eyes. His mouth is monstrous, all his white teeth sharp in a thicket of gray.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says.

I know this already. There is nothing satisfying in the confirmation of it.

He is not the man in black I always pictured. He could be anybody.

“Think of this as a favor I’m doing you.”

Then he hits me again. And other things.

When I’m alone, voices chatter in my ears. No one is coming, they say, you are alone. They will not find you. You and the ditch will be friends soon. So you amounted to this—better than nothing, we suppose. I shush them, rock myself against the cement floor and hum and think about grass, and birds. I try not to leave myself room to cry. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.

A thousand years go by. Outside the room, there are voices. Not any of mine. His, and others. They start loud, and get quiet. His voice goes away completely. Doors open, distant, then closer. Light falls over my body again, and I feel the weightlessness. Real this time. My hands come back to me, but I can’t move them. There are faces, more than I’ve seen in a while. They scare me, but I can’t run, so I try not to look. Except at his. They take me past him, and I look. Through his glasses I see his eyes, still trying to take something from me. He has, by now. But not what he wanted.

I sleep for a long time, and when I wake up, the world is the way I remember it. My feet on the ground, cleats and all, not slipping. When I’m well enough they bring me to identify Devin’s body, since he didn’t really have a brother after all. They find Mariah’s, too. Greg really was in the emergency room, turns out. But there are others. Too many to think of.

Cheryl changes careers afterwards. Probably for the best. I find this out when she drives me to group the first time after I get out of the hospital. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, I can see her eyes are different. Not caseworker eyes anymore.

“Lauren is going to be taking over your case starting next week,” she says after a long silence. “So this will be the last time I see you.” I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“Okay,” I say.

She never apologizes. No one does. They all say they’re sorry for what happened to me, but that isn’t the same thing. People who don’t listen never think to apologize for it. They think they were listening all along.

Things are mostly the same as before, except I get my pills mailed to me now. And I think about Devin a lot. When I pour myself a drink, I pour one for him too and pretend he’s with me. I don’t have any pictures, so mostly I think about his voice. The last time we ever spoke, he told me, no one listens to me, X.

What I said then was, I know the feeling, man.

But now I just tell him I’m sorry.

#writing #original fiction #writeblr #short story #mine #the magazine that originally published this story has gone dark but since this is no longer under exclusivity i am pleased to share it here #i'm still pretty proud of this one

155 notes · View notes

teslasucks37 · 27 days ago

Note

hi tess! i hope you're having a good day!! could you possibly write dilf charlie hcs? or a fic, whichever you want. i know you're very busy, take your time. thank you!!

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), afab!Reader (Use of “Miss”, feminine clothing, She/Her pronouns, and afab genitalia), Dilf!Charlie, YoungDad!Charlie (He’s his actual current age the reader is just young), Size Kink, Breeding Kink, Degredation 🤤🤤🤤

A/N: Holy moly! 3k+ words 😨 Didn’t have the courage to do a larger age gap cause they aren’t really my thing so a 5 year difference is a lot for me guys pls don’t bully me 😭

DILF!Charlie x Reader

Dilf Hcs!!!

Charlie hated the types of parents that showed up to these kinds of events.

Wasp moms who loved their sons a little too much, PTA nutjobs who only cared about looking good to other parents, deadbeat dads who would show up a little too happy to be there.

He was often one of the few, if not the only, dads who would show up to family events.

But he was really only here for Fiona.

The sweetest little girl ever, blonde hair half tied up in a little ponytail he’d done himself that morning, glanced at him from across the room and waved wildly.

She smiled that adorable gap toothed smile, waddling over to him and wrapping her arms around his leg.

“Hey, Fi.” He grinned, ruffling the hair on the top of her head lightly as he handed her the metal tin that he’d come to drop off in the first place. “I brought your treats for the bake sale, sorry I’m a little late.”

“It’s okay, Daddy!” She nuzzled her face into his leg, waving over a woman he hadn’t seen before.

Of course he hadn’t seen a lot of the adults there before, considering it was near the beginning of a new school year.

But this woman, he would have noticed her.

Her shoes tapped against the tile, her long colorful skirt flowing around her legs as she walked.

Charlie straightened his suit, brushing off any potential dust on his dress pants.

A cute blouse covered her torso, the long sleeves belling out at her wrists.

She looked young for a teacher, he supposed he shouldn’t judge.

He was pretty young to be a dad.

“Hi, Fiona! Who’s this?” You asked, more to the man than her.

He was a fancy looking man adorned in a suit, young and broad shouldered, handing a little girl you cared for deeply a tiny tin.

It was a very endearing sight.

He stuck out his hand immediately, probably used to speaking with headstrong businessmen considering the suit he was wearing than a barely-graduated kindergarten teacher.

You softly took his hand, shaking it as Fiona refused to move from his leg. “Hi, Miss Smith!”

“I’m Charlie-” He stopped himself, probably realizing that his name meant nothing to you. “Fiona’s dad.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed in recognition. “I’m her teacher. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Charlie’s eyebrows raised. “You have?”

You nodded, pressing a hand into Fiona’s back to guide her toward her spot at the table to lay out her treats.

“She gushes about you all the time.”

Fiona waddled over to her spot, opening the tin and staring at the frosted cookies.

“Wow, those look so nice. How did you manage that in time?” You glanced at Charlie, who looked a little guilty.

“Between you and me, I bought them 15 minutes ago.” He whispered to you, leaning closer, but not too close. “Don’t tell the other parents, though, they’d eat me alive.”

You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Charlie grinned at your laugh, that he’d managed to make that happen.

“Hey, Fiona, those aren’t for us.” You suddenly spoke out in teacher mode, walking over to the kid and placing a hand on her back.

“But they look so good.” She pouted, her hand covering over the tin. “Can’t I have one? Just one?”

Your lips pressed together at her pleading. “I think I have some cash…” You fumbled through the pockets in your skirt in search of your wallet.

“Oh, please, no. I’ll pay for it.” Charlie interjected, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and slipping a dollar into the box. “Besides, this money is for classroom supplies. Don’t those come directly from your pocket already?”

You sighed with a grin, before nodding, watching as Fiona grabbed a cookie with small hands and took a bite.

Her face lit up, then rushed away to go talk to her friends.

You chuckled, walking back to Charlie, who didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon.

“You look pretty young to be a teacher.” He spoke softly, without the cadence people commonly used when children were listening.

Like it was just the two of you.

“Yeah, I just graduated so this is my first year. I’ll be 23 in a few months.” You rambled, not meaning to spill so much personal information to one of your student’s parent’s, but he was just so easy to talk to.

So easy, that you easily stepped over a line. “You seem pretty young to be a dad.”

Then your eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that’s not appropriate, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s fine.” Charlie grinned, crossing his arms. “I’m turning 27 in two weeks.”

He couldn’t believe it, you were about the age he was when Fiona was born.

A lot could change in 5 years.

Your face flushed, unable to make eye contact with him any longer. “Well, happy early birthday.”

He nodded his head in thanks, before looking down at his watch and mumbling something resembling a curse word.

“If you have somewhere to be, it’s alright.” You whispered. “I won’t let the other parents know.”

“Um, would you like to go out sometime?” He whispered back, taking you completely off guard.

Reasons why you shouldn’t raced through your head.

He was the parent of one of your students, nearly 5 years older than you, he had a kid, maybe he was married.

But the pleading look in his eye made you bite your lip and nod.

He grabbed a pen from his wallet, scribbling his number onto your hand, and he was off.

You stared at the place where he had once been, just trying to process what you had done.

He was surprised when you actually texted him.

Charlie took you to a fancy restaurant, much too fancy for your attire you’d chosen for the night.

You were clad in cute tennis shoes you’d newly bought for a special occasion, gray semi-translucent thigh high stockings, a short gray pleated skirt with a sparkly belt, and a black crop top with a slight v neckline that showed off your assets a bit more than you realized.

Makeup that tried to not do too much, while still feeling like you, along with lots of jewelry adorned you.

You were living on a teacher salary, so your wardrobe didn’t have many fancy things in it.

He’d said he’d wanted it to be a surprise, but maybe he could have given you a bit more of a heads up.

But his face when you walked through the door made every worry about your outfit disappear.

Charlie’s nearly choked on his water, somewhat surprised you’d even showed up.

He was dressed down from the first time you saw him, now in a black button up with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, showing off his forearms.

His longer hair was pushed back slightly, styled nice and neat, despite a few stray curls poking out.

Nice dress pants paired with nice dress shoes, a nice watch.

“So, what do you do for work?” You began awkwardly, feeling significantly out of place amongst the much older and much richer customers that were currently there.

Charlie’s hands fidgeted above the table, obviously embarrassed about the answer. “I’m, um… I’m actually a streamer.”

“Really? I would have thought you had some 9 to 5 with the suit you had on when we met.” You spoke, more surprised than anything.

“Yeah, I had a meeting to go to after that. I ended up being a little late cause I was supposed to leave earlier than I did.” He joked, just seeming relieved you didn’t think his job was stupid.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, guilt ridden for taking up so much of his time.

He just grinned. “It’s alright. It was worth it.”

Those two small sentences made your face feel hot, causing you to grab your water to cool off.

He was attractive, no doubt about it, but he was nearly 5 years older than you with a kid.

But he was just so…

Charlie…

The two of you ordered and moved on to more in depth conversation.

Charlie took a sip from his water glass. “Fiona’s mom and me… We had different ideas on how to raise her, so it didn’t really work out.”

You nodded empathetically. “Is that who she’s with now?”

He nodded. “Should be with her all night.” He mumbled before taking another sip of his water with a grin.

And that offhand detail changed the course of the entire night.

You hadn’t meant to go home with him on the first date, you’d actually swore to yourself that you wouldn’t.

But he just looked so fucking good.

And after he’d dropped the hint that the house was empty, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

You let him drive you to his place, let him place his hand on the small of your back, let him lead you inside, let him lead you upstairs to his bedroom, let him kiss you.

And god did he know how to kiss, tongue brushing against your lips like he owned them, before brushing against your tongue like he owned that too.

You’d never been with a man that wasn’t your age.

He was so much more experienced, refined, better.

Charlie was large, or maybe you were just short.

When your hands slid down his shirt undoing the buttons, he chuckled against your lips.

“So eager~” His voice rumbled above you, like a predator finally catching his prey.

Charlie’s hands slid down to his belt as you continued to unbutton his shirt.

Toeing off his shoes with reckless abandon and pulling the rest of his clothes off, he didn’t even bother to take off your shoes before he threw you on your back onto his bed.

You could feel his hot breath on your face, his thick cock hanging heavy between his legs as he crawled over you with his hands pressed against your thighs.

You squirmed beneath him, hands reaching for his arms, desperate for some kind of friction.

“Hold still, baby, let me take care of you…” He mumbled, moving his hand under your skirt to pull your panties to the side, before placing his hand on the back of your thigh again.

You grinned at his words, feeling his tip prod your hot entrance.

“You want me?” His tone was teasing, but also making sure you really wanted this.

“Yes!” You whimpered, moving your hips against the leaking head of his cock, never more sure of anything in your whole life.

His mouth changed to an open mouthed grin as he sunk inside you, slowly, carefully.

He could feel how he was stretching you out, the little whimpers you were letting out as he rocked in and out, gauging your reaction all the while.

You loved how he cared for you, was so considerate, not like men your age.

But you needed him to stop being considerate and fuck you like a slut.

So you whined, gripping his arm and moving your hips as much as you could against his grip.

“Yeah, you want me to move?” He pressed a kiss to your hand that passed by his face, experimentally thrusting hard, earning a gasp from between your lips. “You want me to pound this tight little pussy of yours?”

Fuck…

You felt your walls flutter around him, making him smirk with bared teeth.

And then he really started, his hips pounding against you with his iron grip on your thighs, pressing them into your chest and folding you in half.

The breaths you managed to take in were shallow, quickly fucked out by his cock.

His hands lifted from your skin to travel under your shirt, skillfully pulling it up and unhooking your bra with one hand before pulling it out from under you. “Fuck… So pretty.”

You moaned at his compliment, his dick hitting way too deep for you to possibly speak out any kind of tangible thank you.

Charlie leaned closer to hit deeper, one hand landing beside you to prop him up while the other groped your tits.

His body was so big and strong, towering over your small frame, his hand almost able to fit both your breasts in one palm.

His groans were like fucking music, grunts and panting falling from his lips so easily.

You wondered if he’d fucked his ex-wife like this, primal and hard.

Gravity brought him down inside you and the pounding against your skin brought him back up to do it over and over, his heavy balls slapping against your skin.

You wondered how long it had been since he’d emptied them.

He must be a busy man, but he’d taken time out of his days to go to the bake sale, ask you out, actually go out with you, and now he was fucking you.

You grinned at the thought, lifting your chin up slightly to urge him down wordlessly, and he followed you, chased your lips until both of your moans were echoing past your lips, hot and heavy with need.

His hand on your tits slid down between you to unzip your skirt, you feeling him do it in one swift motion without leaving from your lips once.

The fabric was pulled out from under you, then his hand moved to circle your clit, making your back arch up against him and your head fall back from his lips onto the mattress.

“Yeah?” He asked teasingly as he increased the pressure just enough, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good little slut for me?”

You shivered, feeling your cunt tighten around him, your hips and thighs shaking wildly in his grasp.

He sat up so he could see all of you, never stopping his hips or fingers for a second.

“Fuck, fuck, Charlieeee~ Aaahhh!” Your voice wavered as the tension inside you peaked, your cunt pulsing around him as he slowed his thrusts, but not stopping as your cum squirted out onto his skin and his sheets.

“Oh, fuck…” He sighed in awe, admiring how you trembled beneath him, your hips bucking against him even after your orgasm like an animal in heat, begging him to continue, to keep fucking you hard.

So he did, reaching so deep he could feel the slight push back of your cervix, making you practically scream for him with a wild smile on your face.

And he just kept hitting it over and over and over, making you see stars, completely overstimulated by his cock.

Feeling completely invaded, overwhelmed by this hunk of a man that fucked you better than anyone else ever had, made your brain turn to complete soup.

The sight must have been fucking immaculate.

Charlie fucking your tiny body in your pretty little date outfit, your shoes, thigh highs, panties, and shirt still on.

Both of your thighs dripping with your squirt, the smell of cum and sex and the slapping of his skin against yours

He never would have guessed, you being a teacher and all, that you’d be such a fucking whore for him.

His fingers continued to swirl against your clit, small circles mixed with big ones, light mixed with hard pressure, like he knew just what to do to make you lose your mind.

Charlie’s other hand lifted to your waist, pulling you into him so he could hit impossibly deep with inhumane speed.

You could feel his hips begin to sputter uncontrollably.

“Say you want it, angel. Say you want my cum.” Charlie whispered, like it was a private thought that he just couldn’t stop himself from saying aloud.

But you wanted it. You really wanted it.

You wanted him to claim you, fill you up like a fucking cumdump, use you until you broke.

“I do! I do~ I want it~”

That sentence coming from your mouth alone nearly broke him.

He imagined what you’d look like, swelled up with his child, so young, as young as he was, but such the perfect wife for him.

So wonderful, perfect to raise two kids with him always there to care for you.

“Fuck…”

But he had to tear his mind away from that fantasy.

He had you now, and that was all that mattered.

And the way you were looking at him, hazy eyed, fucked out, completely at his whim, that was more than enough to make his balls tighten and bust his hot load deep inside you.

His frantic thrusting, his haphazard finger movements, his warm seed spilling into you, everything came crashing down as a stronger, yet quieter orgasm took over your brain.

It felt like your body went numb, like you were passing out as you came around his big twitching cock.

Your eyes fluttered as you heard Charlie’s groans, slightly whiny and far off, like through a thick haze as the fullness left you.

Your chest heaved in effort, your legs falling to the side as they were moved for you, your shoes and socks coming off along with the shirt you’d forgotten you were wearing.

His strong arms lifted you up, rolling your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them onto the floor, before tucking you into his bed.

You saw through your misty gaze Charlie walking into his bathroom and coming back with a towel, wiping off your soaked thighs before placing it on your folds to soak up any remnants of fluid leaking out of you.

He practically collapsed onto the mattress, turning off the lamp right next to his bed lazily.

You rolled onto his chest, groaning with effort, which made Charlie chuckle.

“I take it you had fun?” He asked with a grin that you couldn’t see in the dark, but heard in his voice.

“Mhm~” You mumbled out, too exhausted to do anything else.

But suddenly you heard the front door open downstairs.

“Daddy! I’m home!”

Your eyes went wide, your own hands shooting up to cover your mouth.

Charlie’s eyes went wide as well, pulling the blanket up to cover your frame as tiny feet walked up the steps and opened the door just a crack.

The slight light from the hallway made just his side of the bed visible.

“Hey, Fi. I’m pretty exhausted from work, so do you think you could be a big girl and put yourself to bed tonight?” Charlie pleaded as nonchalantly as he could, wishing he’d locked the door before he had gotten distracted.

“Yeah, I can. Night night, Daddy!” She whispered the last sentence, closing the door slowly, probably mimicking what Charlie did for her so many times.

“Night, Fi!”

Once the footsteps receded, you let out a soft snort.

“Oh… My God.” Charlie whispered, covering his embarrassed grin with a hand.

You pulled the blanket back down, snuggling against his chest and giggling into his warm skin. “That was too close.”

“Yeah… We probably shouldn’t let her catch on…” He spoke softly, now all too aware of another presence in the house.

You nodded, wondering exactly what it would mean for your relationship, your career.

But you were only on your first year.

You and Charlie would figure it out.

And in fact, as the two of you drifted off to sleep together, he promised to himself that you would figure it out.

#smut #charlie slimesicle x reader #charlie slimecicle smut #slimecicle x reader #slimefucker #slimecicle smut #señor babygirl

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vhsdruid · 7 months ago

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terribly sorry if this is a weird question but i would LOVE to hear more about wasps . funky little dudes

wasps are a relatively new species in terms of insect evolution, having appeared in the jurassic period alongside the first dinosaurs. there are hundreds of thousands of species, which could include ants and bees depending on your exact definition. they're all included in the group apocrita, or the "wasp waisted" hymenoptera. they are some of the most successful insects on the planet.

DID YOU KNOW?: the stinger of apocrita is a highly adapted ovipositor, the organ used for egg laying.

STEP ONE: their ancestors, the sawflies, had evolved a serrated ovipositor that could bore into plant material as a safe place to lay their eggs.

STEP TWO: the first wasps would use the ovipositor to instead lay their eggs inside of other animals (parasitoidism), which then provides the developing young plenty of food. many of these wasps would develop a unique variety of venoms to aid in the capture of prey, often by paralysis.

DID YOU KNOW?: there are more parasitoid wasps than any other kind of wasp, with an estimated 100,000 species! this includes the iconic cicada killer wasp.

STEP THREE: the transition from egg laying to defense is not entirely understood, but is believed by some to have been a direct response to predation by vertebrates. if you think about it, it's not all that easy to sting through a tough exoskeleton (though it can be done), it's much easier to sting soft, fleshy things that are trying to eat your delicious grub children. these wasps no longer lay eggs with the ovipositor, instead having an opening at the base of the stinger. the venom would be adapted to illicit a pain response, a harsh lesson to not mess with wasps!

DID YOU KNOW?: male wasps CANNOT sting as they do not have an ovipositor. though, some males will still mimic stinging, or even have pointed abdomens to help sell the illusion.

QUICKFIRE ROUND:

while wasps are famously eusocial and will often live in large communal hives, the vast majority of wasps are solitary and live on their own.

the largest species of wasp is the northern giant hornet, who's queens are around 2 inches in length. the smallest species of wasp is also the smallest insect ever! dicopomorpha echmepterygis males have been measured as small as 139 micrometres in length.

its common knowledge that wasps can sting multiple times and honey bees cant. this is a unique adaptation of the honey bee, who deliver a more potent sting by leaving the stinger embedded in the victim as it continues to pump rounds and rounds of venom. unfortunately, the stinger is directly attached to many vital organs, which are then damaged in the process, causing the honey bee to die.

insects breathe by absorbing oxygen directly into their "blood". wasps aid in this by rapidly expanding and collapsing their abdomen to force air in and out. if her butt is vibrating, shes just taking a breath :)

the iconic coloration of the wasp, usually yellow and black, is part of their defensive strategy! this is a form of aposematism, the advertising of danger to potential predators. they want you to notice them, so you know to steer clear!

the coloration is SO iconic that thousands of insect species mimic it in hopes of also warding off predators. this includes flies, moths and butterflies, and even their own ancestors, the sawflies.

parasitoid wasps are very specific in their choice of prey, likely due to the unique cocktail of venom they must possess to influence any given species. for any arthropod, there is a species of wasp that specializes in parasitizing THAT specific arthropod.

because i know some people are wondering, the venom of parasitoid wasps can only effect arthropods, there will be no wasp based mind control within the next few million years. some parasitoids have been known to sting defensively, which is still quite painful depending on the exact species.

some wasps are HYPERPARASITOIDS, meaning they will lay their eggs on other parasitoids that are already parasitizing something. its parasitoids all the way down.

one of these hyperparasitoids is the velvet ant. despite it's common name, they're actually a species of wasp with flightless females. the males do possess wings, and in some species, will assist the female by carrying her to an environment with better resources.

the venom of gall wasps will, when inserted into a tree or other vegetation, cause it to grow a mass, known as a gall. basically a bootleg fruit, filled with nutrients. these wasp galls will then safely house the wasp's young which eat it from the inside out, before emerging as adult wasps.

obviously, theres wasps that parasitize the gall wasps inside the gall.

fig wasps are the only animals that can pollinate figs, and do so by crawling inside to lay their eggs before dying inside the fruit. well, the only animal other than humans, which find figs quite tasty but don't typically enjoy eating dead wasps.

i probably wont ever get a better opportunity to share this information, sorry: the queen honey bee mating with a drone is audible to the human ear, making a popping sound. the drone's endophallus (penis) is violently detached in the process and he dies soon after.

lastly, lets just marvel at the beauty of the wasp. they have some of the most striking appearances of any animals on earth.

i am just fillled with awe when i look at them. a powerful and intimidating predator that takes great care in raising the next generation. perhaps my favorite animal.

#SORRY. YOU HAVE ACTIVATED HYMENOPTERA SPECIAL INTEREST MODE.#corrections: i say 'species' when i mean 'group' a lot. also i mixed up jurassic and triassic dinosaurs had already been around for awhile

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enteringdullsville · 9 months ago

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I got bored so I made a thing. Modern Nick AU featuring a handful of the child protagonists, a chibified SpongeBob being their chaperone? A summer camp setting, perhaps? With everyone save for Danny, Jenny, and Dora having their ages fudged to be closer?

Sure, why not? From left to right:

Sanjay Patel

He may or may not have snuck Craig into his cabin, and Craig may or may not have started charging people for “sage advice from the talking snake”

Sanjay’s a relatively good kid but kind of a hellion. Manny spends much of his early life in a moral dilemma. Having them be partners seemed like a logical decision

His bowling pin head was really hard to adapt to my usual style without utterly mangling his face, but I think I did alright

Manny Rivera

He’s wearing the boots and scarf from his El Tigre costume

Bessie thinks he’s the coolest thing, but his and Danny’s egos clash almost immediately

This presumably takes place after he’s settled on heroism, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a troublemaker

April O’Neil

She’s quite possibly the only person getting any actual work done in camp

She’s ostensibly the least insane person in the group, but she’s prone to egging on the others’ antics and starting bets on how much things will escalate

Her age has been dropped a couple of years, so she’s often with Lincoln foiling Dora’s whole escape artist routine

Tommy Pickles

Still on his filmmaker career from All Grown Up! He has a lot of footage of a lot of things in a lot of places

Normally mild mannered and agreeable, but being given “strict orders” instantly makes his good mood vanish

His mind tends to wander when he’s bored, and it has no regard for its curfew

Lincoln Loud

He’s a weeb canonically, so he’s been given a vaguely animesque appearance

Whatever camp this takes place at, I can guarantee at least one of his sisters had been there prior. Since most of the characters here are the Everyman type, Linc’s cunning and trickster attributes are played up a bit

Has no regard for the fourth wall. Tommy has no clue what he’s on about and thinks he’s insane

Aang (Just Aang)

Whether or not he can bend is based purely on what’s funniest at the moment, especially since he and Dib make it impossible for this to be canon compliant

He’s definitely living in an AU with a less horrific backstory. Less responsibilities, less issues

Wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’d definitely give a wasp a warning shot if it was being a jerk

Danny Fenton

Danny, and only Danny, is actually a little older here. He and Jenny are the counselors. Lucky them.

Doesn’t even bother with the secret identity since Bob’s the only one dense enough to not connect the dots

Being able to turn invisible is really helpful when Dib has questions he doesn’t feel like answering

Jimmy Neutron

There he is, officer. That one’s the ringleader

Aang’s existence is a constant source of frustration for him since he can’t come up with a scientific explanation for all…that

He’s right off the heels of Nicktoons Unite and is wondering when and why SB became so serious

SpongeBob SquarePants

The only adult we see at the camp for some reason, and the only nonhuman besides Jenny

I messed up his scaling, he was supposed to be small enough to fit in someone’s hand, hence his overly simplified design. That’s the height he is in-universe

Ironically and disproportionately strong. Not Jenny’s level, but about as strong as he is in Unite…without being adjusted for size. In other words, he can easily pick up and throw the campers like rag dolls

Jenny Wakeman

The only nonhuman kid at camp, as well as the oldest/youngest at 16/5

She’s the one thing stopping land bears from tearing the camp apart

She’s justifiably a little wary since she’s not exactly nature proof, but all the kids think she’s the coolest thing

Timmy Turner

A closer look at him reveals three familiar looking trinkets shaped like a wand, wings, and a floaty crowny thing

He doesn’t need magic, anyway. He’ll make everything possibly go wrong his own way

He and Bessie butt heads almost immediately; Timmy’s fine with one hypercompetent overachieving Girl Scout in his life, but he does not need another

Ginger Foutley

Usually found with fellow artsy types Rudy and Lincoln

Riddled with anxieties and restless leg syndrome. She comes of as brooding, but she’s just introspective

Since April’s a menace, she’s the actual least insane camper

Eliza Thornberry

It took her a bit to realize SpongeBob could actually talk to begin with and that everyone else didn’t have the same power as her. In fact, there’s a non-zero chance there are a bunch of animals from assorted Nick shows that are screaming in the background constantly and it’s messing with her head

I gave her just the one braid to make her distinct from the other Elizabeth in the cast

She slips in and out of her father’s mannerisms. SMASHING!

Rudy Tabootie

Mysteriously disappears to parts unknown it’stheChalkZone every now and then when he needs to blow off some steam

I find it funny how stylized I made everyone else while Rudy’s just slightly taller

SpongeBob sees a lot of himself in the kid. Rudy doesn’t know how to feel about that

Dora Marquez

Y’know, I added her as a joke, and she immediately became my favorite

She’s the youngest kid at her canon age of seven, so she’s coddled by everyone else. She HATES it, given that she’s been adventuring on her own for the longest time, so she’s a lot more cynical than usual. Easily the biggest departure from the norm

Constantly tries to escape supervision in favor of wandering the wilderness, but the talking cheese won’t let her

Arnold Shortman

He doesn’t know how he ended up as the “cool guy”, but he’s not gonna fight it

Appears detached and aloof, but he’s more likely just dissociating

Always seems to know what he’s doing to the point of parody. As smart as he is, I must reiterate he’s just improvising

Dib Membrane

Eliza, Rudy, and especially Timmy aren’t too keen on hanging around him for very obvious reasons

The fact he’s with people who are reasonably sane this time around means he’s in much better spirits. Lincoln’s probably his best friend at the camp, although Dib’s still a loner

He and Jimmy always run the risk of killing each other if they talk for more than two minutes at a time due to differing views on magic

Bessie Higgenbottom

The kid most likely to actually listen to the inane drivel that comes out of SpongeBob’s mouth

Since she’s still working on the whole Mighty Bee thing, she’s all over Manny, Danny, and Janny

There are very few campers that aren’t at least a little intimidated by her

There were a few other characters I wanted to add like Nate Wright (Big Nate), Annie Bramley (It’s Pony), Mikey Munroe (Bunsen is a Beast), but I scrapped them for space.

I elected to only use one character per series, causing me to drop Korra, Sheen Estevez, Ronnie Anne Santiago, and Hazel Wells for being spinoff characters (especially since Sheen and Ronnie Anne were around before getting their own shows). It also forced me to remove Fanboy and Chum Chum from my initial plan entirely.

I additionally wanted to keep SB as the only organic nonhuman character due to the inherent absurdity of having him as the sole adult figure, which is why Dib and April represent their series rather than Zim or a Ninja Turtle and why I chose not to use Harvey Beaks.

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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My professor gave me a zero on my essay for no reason! I did the work! When I asked him why he said that it was because I was a jock and jocks always fail his class. It’s time for payback!

Seriously, what do you expect from a professor of German studies named Dr. Kurt-Heinrich Schulte Obermeier? He's a Westphalian lateral thinker with Prussian discipline oozing from his every pore. Immaculate hairstyle, perfectly fitting suits, first-class pressed shirts. Handkerchief and tie always coordinated with great taste. A luminary in matters of German post-war literature. And an asshole as a professor.

I am a natural scientist. Sort of. According to my self-image as a support staff member. I'm of the opinion that the world isn't a worse place with one less Germanist in it. If he spends his time on meaningful things instead of Günther Grass.

When he wakes up the next morning, he feels fresh and rested. Dr. Kurt Obermeier is one of the youngest research assistants to have ever worked at your university. He is cool. He knows he's clever. But he's a good tutor and even if he's always dressed a bit stuffy, you can have fun with him. Rather atypical for a German studies student, you can even meet him in the sports bar in the evening. When the German soccer league is on.

Curt Meier is a WASP like no other. Although half of him is not Anglo-Saxon but German. That's why he decided to study business administration and German studies. Out of pure interest. He doesn't need to earn any money anyway, he lives off his parents' money. And he lives off the occasional modeling job. Curt is New England incarnate. Cultured, educated. And in his beauty, he is unfortunately also a little boring. But what do you expect from someone who plays cricket?

Yo, dude! Check it out, this Curtis Meyers guy, man, he's like, totally not fitting in at the uni, you know? Button-down shirts? Rugby shirts? That ain't his vibe at all. He's all about football jerseys, bro. But honestly, he only throws those on when he has to. In German studies? Forget about it. The professor thinks he's gotta dress fancy? Ridiculous, man! If they kicked him out for that, he'd be damn happy. He only picked this damn major 'cause he thought it was gonna be all about Thor and Wotan and all those badass demigods, you feel me? They're awesome. But Rilke and Heine? Hell no. And their language, man! Who the hell came up with that? Must've had a sunstroke that day, dude. Oh, and what's up with the sun? Time to link up with the boys and toss some balls on the field...

Mike Curtis hated university, man. Those snobby dudes there were just dumbasses and annoying as hell. Too dumb to take out the trash properly. Too lazy to clean up their own mess. Keeping the campus clean was a crappy job. He especially hated that German Studies building. Full of stuck-up know-it-alls. All a bunch of weaklings. Supposedly Mike had some German great-grandfather or something. What a load of crap! What kind of dumbass has two last names? Anyway, Mike supposedly got his German looks from him. Also bullshit! That was all sweat and hard work in the gym. Mike didn't inherit nothing. He earned everything he got. And he was damn proud of it!

Mike is not a jock in the strict sense of the word. But certainly more than Professor Dr. Schulte Obermeier. I don't think you have anything more to fear from him, Bro. As long as you separate the garbage properly.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #getting dumber #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk #ai image

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 1 year ago

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Harry is at a Quidditch game, and he’s having a dreadful time. There should be some universal rule that negates this possibility. It’s Quidditch, he’s Harry – it’s the perfect pairing. He should be watching the Wimbourne Wasps crush the Ballycastle Bats and munching on some delightful treacle Sugar Sweeps while enjoying his first date in months.

Except they only have the licorice-flavoured Sugar Sweeps.

Except his team is losing horrendously.

Except his date – Jeanine, or Jeannie; something with a J – is more interested in flirting with anyone other than him. She’d tried to catch the eye of the unfairly attractive man sitting on Harry’s other side for a good twenty minutes. When she made no progress, her attention shifted to orchestrating a threesome with her friend and Draco. Rude.

(And no matter how far they’ve come from the bitter rivalry of their youth, Harry still hates to lose to Mal– Draco. He’d feel worse about that if the other man didn’t feel the exact same way – and if the prat looked less bloody smug.)

This is the last time he lets the blond convince him to go on a blind double-date. Merlin, what was he thinking when he agreed to this?

The Wasps call a timeout to discuss strategy (not that it’s likely to help at this point) and that’s when the worst of it happens. Some genius decided Quidditch needed a kiss cam for the slower moments of a match. If Harry ever finds out who, he’s going to hex their toes off.

That’s the thought that runs through his mind as he sees himself and Jacqueline on each of the floating screens bobbing around the Quidditch stadium.

His eyes slide helplessly to the side, where Jasmine is already inching away from him. This is so bloody embarrassing. He can feel his cheeks redden in mortification and is sure his deer-in-the-headlights expression will be immortalised in tomorrow’s Daily Prophet.

He sure wishes he had a time turner – he’d go back to this morning and stay in bed the whole day.

He can hear laughter breaking out from the other spectators the longer the camera lingers on him. Why haven’t they moved on to another pair? Or at the very least shifted three feet to the right; Harry’s certain Jolene and her friend or Draco (or hell, all three, why not) would be happy to give the viewers a show.

And then he feels a tap on his left shoulder.

It’s not that he’d forgotten about the extremely hot man sitting to his left. But the reminder of the human perfection to his side while this debacle unfolds kind of makes him want to stand up and leave. Or blow something up.

He turns to Mr. Sex-on-Legs and smiles weakly. The man returns his smile, and while it’s a little sharp, it’s not mocking. Hurray for small mercies.

“May I?” Unreasonably Handsome Stranger asks.

“Uh,” Harry replies eloquently. May he what? Harry swiftly decides he doesn’t need more details. This man could be asking for his kidney and as long as it makes this whole situation less painful, Harry’s on board. “Sure…?”

Unreasonably Handsome Stranger tilts Harry’s face up and swoops in. Harry can’t stop the confused squeak from leaving him – so much for less shameful – and then he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. Holy shite.

This is awesome.

Harry kind of forgets why this man is kissing him and what’s going on around him, because it doesn’t matter. The most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in real life is pressing his lips against Harry’s with intent, with skill – is that his tongue? All higher brain functions have ceased in order to enjoy this moment to the fullest.

When they finally pull back for air, Harry finds his hands are gripping the man’s collar and holding him close. He figures that’s fine, considering the man has one hand wound through Harry’s hair and the other is still cupping his jaw.

“Wow,” Harry breathes, brain still taking a break from thinking. The other man smirks knowingly at him, and Harry would probably take offence to that if the man’s perfectly formed cheekbones weren’t flushed pink, showing he’s not as unaffected as he might pretend to be.

“Er. I’m Harry.”

“Tom.”

“Nice to meet you, Tom.”

This makes Smokin' Hot Tom chuckle, which in turn makes his eyes crinkle up adorably. Oh bother – Harry might be in trouble.

He’s aware, peripherally, that someone behind him is aggressively clearing their throat. He only bothers to care about it when Tom shoots an unimpressed look at the source of the noise.

When Harry turns to follow Tom’s gaze, he comes face to face with an irate Julienne, her glaring friend, and Draco, who can’t seem to decide whether he’s impressed or pissed off.

He shrugs, grinning dopily. “It just isn’t going to work out, Josephine.”

She gives him a baleful look. “My name is Petra.”

Whoops. Not even close. “Sorry – Petra. Have fun with Draco and …your friend.”

He sends a teasing salute to Draco and starts dragging Tom towards the exit. Speaking of having fun – he’s sure they can find an alcove somewhere around here to continue what Tom started.

—

Harry’s picture is indeed in the Prophet the next day. But he supposes that’s only to be expected when he’s caught publicly snogging the visiting ambassador from the French Ministry of Magic.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #i may have already shared this #in which case #whoops?#please don't stone me in the streets #kiss cam au #quidditch #fic snippet #can't stop won't stop #now that i have wifi again #crack #fluff #utter silliness

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