#big hork

[green-green-grass]

THUNDER FORCE 5: THE OMEGA CONTINUUM

The insidious GLUMLOCK CONTINGENT has taken control of an object of unimaginable power: the OMEGA CONTINUUM. Our heroes are in hot pursuit when a black hole combines with a CRYON CLOUD to transport our heroes to EARTH, 2025.

Join Tallis Jan, Dink Blastar, Snarky Bobo, Jack Sensation, Big Hork, and actor Jonathan Frakes on a rip-roaring temporal adventure as they stand against enemy forces... including the enemy WITHIN?

Pre-order tickets for a chance to win your VERY OWN Big Hork plushie. In theaters never.

[b3ttysgard3n]

One of Disney’s best shows is big city greens. The plot, characters, but especially the representation. It’s main characters have divorced parents, and there isn’t much divorced parents representation in kids shows, and it shows it’s ups and downs, the struggles and the wins, and I’m glad it’s an accurate portrayal of divorced families for kids who don’t see that in media often.

[antirepurp]

discuss

[helloitshaley]

A full list of all the rude things my neighbor has said to me/my family/other neighbors so far

I need tumblr to know about this as well so I feel like I'm not being personally terrorized by this lady

A. (this was actually her husband, also a rude asshole) upon seeing me holding a cupcake at a block party, tells me I'll need to do extra steps for the day if I want to eat that. (Not that you should say this to anyone but I'm literally 110lbs)

B. Upon seeing my mom and I at the pool after we had spoken to this woman about 4 times already, she had the nerve to ask us if we even lived in this neighborhood. (not the worst offense just ignorant)

C. Woman stops my mother and I while we're in the middle of walking home, makes small talk, we tell her we ate dinner, my father then pulls up in his car coming home from work and offers us a ride back to the house, we accept, rude woman says "shame on you both for not walking home after you ate dinner." ??????? Forgive us for not thinking we should be punished for eating???

D. One day my mother, being a nice lady unlike this beotch, asks her what kind of tree she has in her yard because its pretty, she then proceeds to say, "I don't remember what its called, but I wouldn't even tell you if I did because I don't want you to have it. Someone down the street had the nerve to buy one and put it right in their front yard." Okay, guess we're gatekeeping plants now.

E. At a party where everyone is congratulating a very nice man on his significant weight loss, she has the never to go "you've lost weight????" in a very disbelieving voice. Are we sensing a theme here?

F. Same party where the host is kindly making burgers for everyone, she has to loudly say to the whole group "who even eats burgers anymore?" To which every single non vegetarian replied, "I do." because burgers are delicious.

Honorable mention: Goes up to any disabled person to ask them if they have MS. Thats just... not right...don't do that

[recurring-polynya]

visser 3 kind of a douchecanoe, if i'm honest

for science, i am going to read an animorphs book

[disgustingtwitches]

I definitely can see in the poly 141 restaurant there’s a cat or dog that comes by for scraps and no one can say no to it and feeds it occasionally. Price has no clue until one day he finds Johnny, Gaz, and Reader all playing with the animal.

"Where the hell are they?"

Price is confused, you and Gaz are supposed to be up in the front taking care of a table. And Johnny left the plates in the dishwasher. He checked the walk-in and storage closet, yet y'all are nowhere to be found.

"Check out back."

Ghost grabs a plate, headed out front to serve it before it gets cold. Price heads outside and much to his surprise there you all are, squatting in a circle giggling and cooing at something,

"Leuk at him, poor thin is eatin like he hasnae seen food in days,"

Johnny pouts, petting something. Price furrows his brows, walking closer to see a small cat horking down some small chunks of steak,

"Shouldn't be touching that, don't know where it's been."

The three of you jump, looking up at John's stern face.

"Don't be like that John, poor thing just needs some love,"

Gaz pouts, picking up the kitten that melts in his arms. Price frowns before Gaz passes the cat to you. You stand up, the sight pulls right at his heartstrings; your big sad eyes looking up at him, the cat purring loudly, cuddling up into your chest. He imagines what it would look like if his baby were there instead. The thing couldn't've been more than a few months old, tiny and scrawny. He knew where this was going before you even said the words,

"Fine, you can keep it. Just clean it up and get it it's shots."

And that's how Beau ended up on John's chest, sleeping peacefully while he read a book on the couch. A black ball of fuzz softly nuzzled right next to his heart.

[kedreeva]

There are good things in this world still

Today, it is the winter solstice for me. This means the days will begin to lengthen again. The sun will return, and the trees will eventually become resplendent in greens once more. I will be able to lie in the grass and clover with Bug, and chase her around the yard.

Today, my partner came home after being out of state for work. It is so nice to see him again. We went to dinner at a local diner, his first time going since the diner moved back into town. The wraps were delicious and the fries were the perfect amount of salty for me (VERY SALTY).

Today, I drove my brother to the airport so he could surprise my little sister by visiting her and my parents for christmas. He left his dog here for me to watch, so I spent a few hours in my childhood home, cuddling a big dumb black lab mix. After, when it was time to pick Sark up from the airport, I asked my childhood best-friend's-mom across the street if she could check on the dog tonight and in the morning, so I could have a little more time with Sark. here is the puppy, asleep on my hoodie

Today, I put a handful of sprouts on top of Bug's crate, and she pulled them through the grating and onto her head. She got more of them in her face than intended, and in very comical ways horked them down instead of spitting them out.

Today, I laughed until I wheezed when the television played a realistic-enough rattlesnake sound that Bug reacted by LEAPING away from the ground with a stomp-kick, as if there was a rattlesnake near her. Instinct is a hell of a drug!

There are good things left in this world, however small. This is your opportunity to reblog this and share your good things with each other, or check the notes if you need a reminder.

[sanguinesmi1e]

A Round Door Like a Porthole Lazarus Green Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Part 4: An Unexp-ectoed Party

“So if I sink through this floor are you going to just summon me back here?” the man who had transformed into a child and then a small cat snake creature asked, resigned.

“Safe bet, yeah.” Tim answered before Constantine could point out that the summoning circle hadn’t done a very good job of containing him. Tim had so many questions. What was up with the first transformation? The guy had undergone some hellish amalgamation of a magical girl transformation sequence and spaghettification into a gordian knot, with all the grace and majesty of a dog horking up a half digested hot dog and then eating the barf. Tim wasn’t sure if he wanted to watch it again on repeat to analyze the bizarre, physics breaking sequence, or if instead he wanted a swift concussion that would  make him forget everything about it. Also, why turn into a child? And how? Is the guy a meta? Why did he do a color switch and reappear/reform wearing a jumpsuit that looked like a cross between a Level C HazMat suit and a superhero (or -villain) costume? Why was he in the lab in the first place? Who was he? Where’d he come from? Why was he disassembling a vehicle? Was this an attack against Fenton Works, WE, or something preemptive in case Luthor got his hands on the place? Is he working for Luthor? Fuck that would be bad. Tims thoughts kept scrolling through a list of all the information he needed to extract from the man.

“Ugh, fine. Let’s get this over with.” He swiped his hands down his face and sat up, uncaring or unaware that he left a big smear of grease on his cheek. “Before we start, what do you plan on doing with this information?”

“I’m doing an assessment of assets for Wayne Enterprises.” Tim prevaricated.

“And I was hired to consult when it looked like some magic shite got tangled in the tech.” Constantine added when the man turned his pointed gaze in his direction.

“Okay, so if it isn’t related to WE’s business, will you keep everything I say off the record, just between us?” the stranger asked. 

“Yeah, of course.” Tim lied.

Constantine shot him a strange, warning glare. “If it doesn’t endanger anyone to keep quiet, I agree to your terms.”

“Great!” His grin stretched inhumanly wide, full of teeth that were just a little too sharp. “The pact is sealed. So mote it be.” He clapped his hands together and a wave of green light washed over them.

Fuck! Was that some kind of fae bargain!?

[bookofthegear]

“THAT” room is way too interesting a description for a bold adventurer like yourself to pass up. You stride confidently down the ramp. Jimmy’s claws tighten on your shoulder.

There’s some kind of mural on the passage wall, but you can’t make it out, and anyway it looks to have more to do with giant flaming avocados than with, say, wealth and glory. (And a spirit of scientific inquiry, naturally. It’s just that if, in plumbing the depths of the concrete maze, you happen to find some wealth that no one is using…well. Y’know.)

You’re honestly more concerned with what looks like high water marks in the room upstairs. Granted, it had dried out, but it is a basic rule of Dungeoneering not to get trapped by unexpected rising water, and the best way to do that is to know exactly when and how the water rises, and to arrange to be elsewhere. Jimmy, sadly, doesn’t have an answer.

“I’ve never seen it flooded…not personally…but I spend most of my time outside. Between, um, adventurers, I mean. Sometimes that takes weeks. It could flood then, and I’d never know.”

You’d rather like to know how many adventurers he’s worked with, but then you arrive at THAT room. It’s a largely featureless concrete box of a room, with two large pipes, one on top of the other, in the east wall. The pipes dribble rust and the occasional drop of water down the cement, and a metal grill of clear antiquity covers the bottom one.

The hobo sign for “danger,” three stacked diagonal lines, has been chalked beside the upper pipe.

There is also a thing on the floor. It is about four feet long, damp looking, and of a color one might generously call brownish. It has a certain…organic…lumpiness to it. The sort that usually involves time spent in a digestive tract.

You are not a biologist, but you’ve been in enough ruins to recognize an owl pellet when you see one.

You poke it a few times with the point of your walking stick. Bits of fabric and strands of hair fall away, revealing a gleam of bone. You poke again. Oh hey, they wore a retainer. Neat.

“He stuck his head in the pipe,” says Jimmy, sounding deeply discouraged. “That might have been ok, but then he said he saw something and crawled in, and…well. I couldn’t see what happened, but there was a lot of thrashing and screaming and what looked like bone hooks. It’s safe now, though!” he hastens to add. “It hasn’t ever come out of the pipe while I’ve been here. Err. I mean, I probably wouldn’t want to sleep here, though.”

“Fascinating,” you murmur. “What does it live on, I wonder? When it can’t get idiot?”

“Frogs, I think,” Jimmy says. “Big red ones. They’re all over.” He adds reluctantly, “Err…you’re not gonna try to fight it, are you?”

[fanaticsnail]

A Small Kindness

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 8,088

Notes: The clown needed a little bit of love, I think. This is a gift written for the lovely @sordidmusings. Let's love on the failing-forward man. Image Source link.

Synopsis: A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.

Themes: homeless Buggy, pathetic-leaning Buggy, MDNI, smut, p in v, afab!reader, angst-smut-fluff sandwich, one-bed-trope.

In the corner booth, resting with his chin on the heels of his palms, and staring at the cool droplets of the condensation running down the water decanter of the tavern he sat. All majesty, all tom-foolery, all wealth, fame and power flung from him the moment he was defeated, yet again, by that stupid kid, with a stupid grin, crowned with that stupid hat he got from that stupid rat. 

A stray hair fell into his face, prompting his pouty lips to huff out a puff of hot air at the strands to push them away from vision. He’d lost it all. His crew dispersed among the seas, his big top sunk and in dire need of repair with no means to finance such a feat. 

But you didn’t know any of those things.

All you saw was a blue-haired man with a shiny, round, red nose sitting alone and down on his luck in that booth; yet to order a single thing from the menu. You noticed the way he attempted to hide his hunger, clutching at his stomach and cursing under his breath for it to stifle its incessant groaning. 

Brows arching in a triangle at the peak of your forehead, a thin, lopsided smile danced on your lips as you took out a large, ceramic dish from under the benchtop and drew it to the stove. You ladeled into the dish a large portion of the lentil, split pea and hickory ham soup you had been lovingly caring for throughout the day into the bowl and sliced up two pieces of sourdough to place atop flames to char its surface. Sorting out a small ramekin of soft, salted butter, you placed it on your tray alongside the bowl of soup, completing your assortment of food to lay before the somber stranger. 

“Excuse me, sir?” you smiled down at him. He lazily lolled his head up at you and stared blankly through half-hooded eyes. His eyelashes danced as they battered up at you, his frown still ever present at the peak of his brow. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m movin’ on, Doll. Don’t you worry yourself, I’ll be out of your hair in a-,” he began, dismissively waving his hand only to be cut off by you placing down your tray atop the table and beginning to silently arrange the elements in front of him. His eyes widened at the harvest, his lips automatically opening and beginning to salivate at the aroma wafting to his large nose from the soup. 

“This is for you, sweetheart,” you beamed at him, a genuine and polite smile cooing down at the man in the booth, “I hope you enjoy your meal.” Turning away from the blue-haired man, you began collecting emptied pint glasses and tankards from the adjoining tables throughout the room. You gazed at the man over your shoulder, watching as he apprehensively removed his pale gloves from his hands and placed them beside him.

Taking the silver, round, spoon into his hands, he took a small portion of the soup into it and darted his tongue out to take a small lick of the stock. His eyes widened before rolling back into his head, his lips smacked together as he savored the first gulp of soup. You thought you heard an utterance of an “Oh, fuck,” under his breath before he began horking down the assortment of treats you had presented to him. 

Allowing a small giggle to escape your lips, you fished around in the front of your apron in search of a few of your personal wage to pay for the man’s meal to place in the till. Down to the last note of your berry, you had yet to break-even on this shift. Feeding this man had put you behind on your pay, but it was worth it to see the small twinkle in his eye at each spoonful he threw back into his open mouth. 

After bidding the last patron farewell and beginning to close down the till, the man wandered over to the counter and placed down his empty bowl; completely licked clean, and with no crumb nor smudge of food left atop the plate and ramekin. Your brow arched up at the discovery of how little remained behind before you drew your eyes up to meet with his. 

And what magnificent eyes he had. Although they seemed rather frantic, sheepish and darting; his eyes held a deep sorrow behind them. The tone of his eyes danced in the flicker of the flames initing the tavern walls, in some lights: a calming blue, and in others: a spark of green. 

“Was that okay?” you asked him, your knowing smirk rising to a grin to bare your teeth at him. He held his teal eyes to the floor, meeting his gaze with anything other than your own in the process. His teeth bore themselves into a thin line, grimacing a small smile through a sheepish expression.

“It was-,” he began, sighing in the middle of his thoughts as he found the correct word, “-Nice.” You flung a hearty laugh into the air, shaking your head at his curt response as you took the dishes and placed them in the pass behind you to clean once he had exited the premises. 

“I’m glad you thought it was nice,” you teetered off your laugh into a small giggle. His face held no humor, no longer depicting the twinkle in his eyes as he pouted and held his eyes away from yours. He grumbled under his breath before elevating his tone, curling his lip before snarling at you.

“So what’ll you have me do, huh, Doll?” he spat, his eyes now agitated as he rotated his neck to rid it of a small click, “I gotta repay you somehow, don’t I? Ain’t nothin’ in this life come free, and that meal was worth a bit, wasn’t it?” He began dancing his eyes around the room, frantically moving to meet his gaze with anything other than your own. His anger began to grow more heated with each thought processing through his mind at a hastened pace.

“It’s on me. Really, I assure you-,” you began, shaking your head and reaching forward to press the heel of your palm against his re-gloved hand. You thinned your lips, holding firm to your resolve and dancing your eyes between his; which continued still to not meet your gaze. It was when you began to retract your hand from atop his that he returned your grip and firmly squeezed your hand into his. 

“I ain’t got a thing on me, Sweets. I have nothing I could offer you. I have nothing. I am nothing-,” He spoke at you, using you to verbally process everything plaguing his mind. Expecting hatred reflected back at him, as all those who listen to his woes often depict in their eyes, your empathetic gaze held no such complex. “-I-... I have-...I-...It’s all gone. Everything is gone. I’m nothing. Not a damn thing.” 

The man in front of you had tears beginning to threaten its hasty downfall from the corners of his eyes. He winced back the sting, sniffing and grunting through his nose noisily and disguised it with a cough. He attempted to laugh through the pain of processing his emotions, inhaling a shaken breath and hoarsely beginning the teeter of his laughter. He cackled his laugh, messily allowing a small amount of gloss to fall over his waterline and litter his lengthy teal eyelashes with the dewdrops of emotion.

Bowing his head, his shoulders began to quake as the mental process had finally solidified its place within the forefront of his mind. There was nothing he could do about the situation, not a prayer he could pray, nor a song he could sing to break him through this. He was completely alone. Not a single berry, not a place to sleep-.

“-It’s okay,” you quietly reassured him, stooping your head down to seek out his eyes. His gaze snapped to you, shocked at being brought back out of his circulating thoughts of doom and gloom to meet with your eyes. Kindness, sweetness, empathy and humility were the only aspects he met with your gaze as he reveled in the feeling of human contact. Your thumb circled itself over the tips of his knuckles, feeling each bone beneath stiffen slightly before relaxing into your touch. 

“I mean it, Doll. I’ve got nothing,” he whispered, his tone continuing to hold a raw raspiness beneath the hiss. A small shake in his head and a quiver of his lip had your heart swelling in pity before it began to hammer within your chest. Upon listening to his small tirade, your adrenaline propelled your small question.

“Have you got a place to stay for the night? Somewhere safe you can wake up in the morning?” Your quiet question had Buggy’s heart filling itself with dread at each beat of the rhythm within. 

“I-I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he confessed in a low tone, his eyes falling to rest on your hands intertwined on the benchtop, “This is the first time I’m spending a night in civilization for a while. I think I was going to go and sleep on the beach near the docks-.”

“-A terrible idea,” you cut him off, pulling your hands out from his and removing your apron from your neck, “There have been numerous reports of violence by the docks in the quiet hours. If you start with not much, you’re left with even less. Sometimes, you’re left with not a breath in your lungs to breathe with.” You hang your apron behind the emptied till, the berry stashed within the safe under circular and rotational cogs and locks, and brushed over your thighs to rid itself from any cotton strands fallen from the material.  

Buggy’s brows furrowed, searching within his mind for a safe alternative. He’d walked for half a day to reach this town; now too late to walk back to the grove he was sleeping within. Raking his gloved fingers beneath his bandana and removing it from his lengthy, cerulean hair; dampened with the grime, grease and sweat from weeks of ill-maintenance. 

Turning back around, you began a slow and pointed trail of reading the body language of the man in front of you. He was lost, in every sense of the word. You could see the thoughts ticking behind his teal eyes, written all over his face. You sighed, bringing your right hand up to the scruff of your neck and giving it a small squeeze.

“Look,,” you addressed him, prompting his eyes to snap up to meet your own. You offered him a small, apprehensive half-smile with your brows lifted in a small peak in the middle of your forehead, “I don’t normally do this, so please don’t think so low of me.” Buggy watched as you began walking around the bar and ushered him towards the door with a coax of our hand.

“Let’s go home, okay?” you offered, opening the door and nodding your forehead towards the threshold for him to cross it with you, “I don’t have much, but-...” as he exited the door, you closed it behind him and fished your keys out of your pocket. The jingle of a few keys echoed in the quiet of the night, the dimmed lampposts had locating the correct key taking a small while. 

“-I can offer you a bath, I think my ex has some spare clothes that could fit you if you’d like me to wash and dry what you’ve got on you?” You turned back around, noticing the bright-nosed man staring at you. His eyes were unblinking and wide, his mouth hanging slightly ajar as he processed what you were saying. You sighed through your nose, a downturned smile offered at his shocked expression.

“W-...” he began, struggling to find the words he wanted to ask you. He shook his head, stuttering on, “-Why are you doing this for me? What have I done to give you any reason to offer me kindness? Me? I’m an idiot, a fool, a no-good outcast, a good-for-nothing-.”

“-Because I know what it’s like to be all of those things and then some,” you shook your head, reaching your right hand out for him to place his left within, “And I know how hard it is to climb that mountain alone. And you, my friend, are not alone. Not tonight, anyway.” He looked down at your extended hand, reaching slowly down to take within his left and allowing you to lead him up the windy, dirt path towards where he imagined home to be. 

And home was more than what he had expected. The small, open-plan room had the kitchen, dining room and lounge space all interconnected to suit the needs of one or two people. The couch took up the majority of the space with a small side table with a draw beneath it, and a coffee table with an assortment of notes and books laying askew with pens, pencils and paintbrushes and a small pallet of rapidly drying paint. 

“I would’ve tidied if I’d known I was having company, I’m sorry,” you confessed, closing the door behind you and locking the door with your key, and a balled latch and chain. Your kitchen had a few tarnished bowls from a hastily consumed breakfast, the drying rack had a few clean dishes fully air-dried and stacked neatly.

“It’s nice,” Buggy confessed, nodding as he took in each area. He noticed a few den-den-mushi pictures printed and hanging by nails and tape throughout the walls; the corners littered with sketches of the subject matter contained within. 

“Are you an artist?” He asked, leaning down to take in more of the sketches within the margins of the images. You giggled, taking out your hair and giving it a small shake to rid the pressure gathered behind the entanglement. 

“I was once,” you confessed, “Traveled the seas with my partner. Always looking for inspiration wherever the seas took us.” You headed to the sink, pouring a small amount of water within the sink and beginning to rid the morning dishes of their grime and stack at the sink.

“And how did that go? Did you find inspiration?” Buggy asked, looking over to watch you roll your shoulders in agitation. 

“No, but he did,” you grumbled, old wounds beginning to resurface, “Several times, in fact. A rotation of inspiration hopping like rodents in and out of the house while I was working hard to support us both at the tavern. A variety of men and women-; fishmen at some stages. He would always deny doing it, until I saw the amassment of paintings he produced by rolling his and their bare skin in paint on stretched canvas over the floor, making art as he lay with them naked and thrusting against the-...” you huffed out an exasperated breath shaking your head and turning back to face the stranger you had invited into your home.

“-I’m sorry. That was likely a little much to place onto you so late,” you softened your eyes, noticing a small pink hue rising against his cheeks and ears, “You're likely exhausted. The bathroom is that way,” you gestured to the small room, “latrine, bath and shower all in there. The other is the bedroom. I’ll get some fresh sheets for you to lay on while I’m washing your clothes, if you like?” 

Buggy was processing too much information all at once. His kind hostess, an artist in disguise, was offering him more kindness than his heart could take. Not only were you beautiful to look at, but your artistry now showcased your soul beneath the surface. He hesitantly took a few steps towards the bathroom, looking over to watch you beginning to pack up the coffee table of your tools and rough sketches. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t manage to find inspiration of your own while he did all that, Doll,” Buggy murmured as he passed you. You stiffened in your movements, barely visible to the eye, before you continued collecting your arrangement. 

“If that comment was regarding artistry: inspiration can be found everywhere you look. If it was regarding looking outside the relationship to give in to lustful advances,” you huffed a humorless laugh through your nose, “One of my many flaws is I’m loyal to a fault. I don’t cheat. Not in art, not in cards, and especially not in relationships - no matter how angry he made me, nor me having the right for vengeance. Better off leaving than making the pain worse, right?” 

Buggy hummed in response, opening the latch to the bathroom door and pushing the door open. As he stepped through the threshold of the bathroom, he turned to face you, raking his eyes over your body as you reached up to place your artistic tools atop a high shelf. Your lower stomach exposed itself as your shirt stretched upwards, the small glimpse of your flesh had his heart beating and mind foggy. 

“Towels are in the cupboard beneath the sink, if you’re looking,” you called over to him, stooping below to collect a small brush that managed to escape your clutches. Buggy now had a clear view of the roundness of your subtle flesh, his foggy mind turning into the smog of lust. He shook his head in an attempt to rid it of the unruly thoughts. 

“Thank you, Doll,” he called, beginning to shut the door only to find himself halting at the last moment to meet his eyes with your smile. 

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart,” you shot him a small wink as he closed the door, leaving you to continue fussing over the mess you were attempting to tidy.

You heard the water start to run, the shower’s steam wafting below the crack in the door alongside the scents of shampoo and conditioner mixing with the floral assortment of body washes and scrubs. Smiling to yourself at the knowledge that he was using every kindness you’d offered to him, you began collecting some clothes for him to change into for the night and swapping out your bedsheets for fresh linen and toppers. 

If you were offering this man the luxury of sleeping in your bed, he should be privy to the scents of fresh-laid sheets of satins and silks. You heard the shower halt its rapid pour, the tap squeaking as your guest turned the handle. 

“Uhh…” He called, his voice halting as he gruffly cleared his throat to ensure he wasn’t imposing on anything important, “Did you say somethin’ about clothes?” You laughed, nodding as you collected a white cotton shirt and soft, gray trousers and walked over to the crack in the bathroom door. 

“I’ve got some things, if you want to trade?” You reached your hand behind the door, thrusting the clothes behind them without glancing through the crack to offer your guest some privacy. He huffed out a laugh, taking the objects before giving you the pile of his soiled clothes for you to take. 

“As long as I get ‘em back, you can take ‘em,” he laughed. You allowed a small giggle to exit your lips as you drew the items into your arms and began readying them for a wash cycle within your hand-cranked barrel. 

Filling the brim with water and some shavings of velvet soap, you lathered each item within the barrel and began rotating it within by winding the handle beside it. Yawning, you looked at the clock hanging above your small, two-burner stove and noticed how late it had gotten. You were well pleased that the big boss had decided to gift you with two days off in a row tomorrow, hopefully just enough time to sort out the remainder of household chores and aid your guest in any way you could. 

Draining the liquid from the barrel, you hung each item of clothing on a line out on the back porch. The overlook of the ocean was one of the reasons you had opted to choose this as home for yourself. The soft scent of the sea always carried towards the windows, the warmth of the sun dampened by the coolness cast from the waters on the shore. After hanging the last item, you turned to witness the guest you had invited into your house; standing tall and firm in his rigidity, hands clapping his thighs awkwardly as he danced his eyes around the room. 

“Something the matter, sweetheart?” you asked him, reentering the room and closing the back door behind you. He offered you a half-smile which almost looked like a wince as he articulated his thoughts cohesively. 

“Where am I sleeping?” he cringed, his brow knitting together as his teeth bore themselves in a straight line. You giggled, gesturing to the bedroom with your right hand. 

“Right there,” you shook your head at him, walking over to the sink and taking out a glass to fill with water. You turned the tap, filling the container to the brim with the cool liquid and turning to face him again. Maintaining eye contact, you began gulping down the water, draining it of its contents and wiping your lips with the back of your forearm. 

“And w-where-...” he began, trailing his words off as he looked around the room for a suitable explanation. You chuckled, walking over to the bathroom and readying yourself for a shower by removing your socks and placing them in the hamper to the side of the room.

“I’ll take the couch,” you giggled, stepping within the bathroom and peeking at him from behind the door. He looked beautiful; a work of art come to life. His beautiful blue hair, his rubied rotund nose, the way the white shirt and gray pants clung to his body; he was absolutely stunning. “I’ll be out in a moment, okay? Make yourself comfortable and I’ll check in on you before I go to sleep.” He nodded, his eyes a mix between sheepishness and a deep sorrow. You flashed him a reassuring smile before clicking the door behind you.

Stripping yourself of your clothes, you relished in the warmth of the scorching water drumming against your flesh and removing the grime from the laborious shift you had undertaken moments prior. You lathered soaps, scents, oils and nectars to dance and soothe your aching skin. Reveling in the final moments of the water cascading against your body, you quickly turned the tap off and began the grueling task of drying yourself enough to be able to get into your sleepwear. 

After prying the small shorts and oversized shirt combination, you stepped out of the bathroom while drying your hair with your soft, microfibre towel. You noticed the bedroom door was slightly ajar, but your guest had taken residency against your couch as he sat, staring at the sea through the window.

“I thought you’d have gone to bed by now,” you sighed your smile at him, shaking your head and approaching the blue-haired man. He turned his head over to you, eyes taking in your dressed-down form and offering you a small smile in return. 

“I couldn’t, Doll,” he shrugged, looking longingly towards the bedroom before coming back to meet your eyes once more, “That’s too good for the likes of me. Even this couch is too good for me to sleep on. I’m better off lying on the floor-.”

“-Go and take the bed,” you ordered him, pointing to the bedroom with your index finger extended towards it, “I didn’t go through all that trouble of washing and changing over fresh bed sheets, at near midnight, for you to not sleep in it.” 

“I’m not gonna sleep in the bed,” he stood to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you dangerously, “Contrary to what you might think of me, I do have some manners. It’s not right for me to take your bed and you take the couch, no matter how much I’d fucking love to sleep in those sheets-.”

“-So hop to it then,” you huffed, tapping your left foot with your eyes holding firm against his, “I got out my nicest sheets, and I sprayed the pillowcases with lavender and eucalyptus oils to aid with your sleep.” He stepped towards you, walking around the couch and getting closer to you.

“Stop being nice to me, Doll. You’ve already offered me too much, and I’m not worth all that,” Buggy continued, prompting you to step closer to him and square up with him. You looked up into his face, cocking your head to the side and pursing your lips. 

“If you feel that strongly about it,” you floated your eyes down to his lips and drew them back up to meet his eyes as hastily as you could, “Share it with me.” 

Buggy’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening at the thought. He began to stutter and stagger with his words, jumbling his disagreements with an assortment of “couch” and “floor” suggested once more. 

“No, no, sweetheart,” you shook your head, “No. You said you didn’t want me to sleep on the couch, and I refuse to waste all of that hard effort on just me alone. Knowing that the couch would be less desirable than the silks, satins and cotton blend I paid a lot of money for to get a better night's sleep.” He growled, his lip curling at the corner and his eyes narrowing.

“I snore,” He spat his taunt at you. 

“I hog blankets,” you retorted, stepping closer. 

“I grind my teeth,” he cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and arching his brow upwards. 

“I sleep talk,” you shrugged, giggling as you watched his pointed look turn more playful.

“I’m a hugger,” he sneered, his mouth pursing in the center. He stepped his body closer to yours, but still remaining a whisper away from your body. 

“I make a wonderful snuggling companion,” you leared back at him. Reaching out, you took his hands within your own and gave them a gentle squeeze of reassurance. 

“I haven’t slept beside someone in so long, I don’t think I remember how,” he confessed below his breath, hanging his head low enough he almost brushed his forehead against your own. 

You smiled, standing up on the tips of your toes to close the gap between you; closing your eyes on impact while genuinely smiling, “I need to relearn that skill, myself.” 

Buggy’s spine tingled at the contact you gave him, shuddering from his skull to his coccyx and turning his body jelly beneath your words. He smiled back, his own eyes closing as he did so. You relinquished the contact between you, rocking back onto your heels and looking up at him with fondness. 

“So, how do you wanna-...” he trailed off, watching as you shook his head and lead him by the hand into the bedroom. You placed your towel against the bedside table and pulled the sheets back, scuttling your body beneath it while watching him remain awkward and rigid watching you. 

“Get in the bed,” you ordered him with a smile, patting the vacant space on the large bed beside you. 

Buggy couldn’t stop his mind from racing far further and drawing unwritten conclusions where there ought to be none. You were so beautiful, inviting a perfect stranger into bed with you to just sleep and enjoy each other’s company, nothing more. But what if something more did occur? What if he accidentally got so excited his body didn’t only flood his heart, but the other head that did half his thinking located beneath the waistband of the borrowed trousers-.

“-Sweetheart?” You broke him away from his thoughts, his eyes not once leaving yours while they glazed over, but finally drew themselves back into reality. 

“I didn’t get your name at the tavern,” he nodded, walking over to the bed and drawing the sheets back. His nose was immediately hit with the warm and welcoming scents of soothing lavender and eucalyptus as they wafted through the smooth sheets. 

“I’ve gone by a few over my travels, and you can take your pick of them,” you smiled, relaying the amassment of names you had gathered for yourself over time. He chuckled at a few of the alliterations and augmentations as you drew the list to a close. “Although, admittedly,” you bashfully began confessing, “I do like the way you call me ‘Doll’. It seems natural, or something.” You began lying beneath the sheets, lying on your side to watch him settle himself below them, “And what do I call you?”

“I’m in a similar way, Doll,” He smiled, reaching up and moving one of your rapidly drying strands from your face and tucking it behind your ear, “I’m the flashy-fool, the genius-jester, the clown-captain, the chop-chop devil-fruit eater, the infamous Buggy D Clown, but,” he floated his eyes over your hairline and drawing them over your exposed ear and traced down your jaw to settle on your lips, “I like the way you call me ‘Sweetheart’. Makes me want to believe it to be true.” 

“Well then, Sweetheart,” you commented, prompting his eyes to once more meet with your own, “I hope you’re able to get to sleep, some. You deserve to be well rested after everything you’ve gone through.” 

“As do you, Doll,” he smiled at you, his eyelids heavy and overburdened with the sultry song of sleep lulling him into its peaceful bliss. As Buggy closed his eyes, he felt the small brush of your fingertips as they met with his in the center of the bed while listening to your breathing become heavier and elongated between each inhale and exhale. 

It was nice, lying beside someone and enjoying their presence while you slumbered. Movements were, you thought, very minimal throughout the night. The way his body was draped over yours, his arm over your waist as your back was pressed firmly against his chest, told a different story. His lips were pressed firmly against your neck, the small swell of breath hovering over your skin in a repetitive and slow manner had you almost lulled back to slumber. 

Buggy’s bottom leg was straight, his top thrust between your own, prompting your knee to bend to make room for his thigh. You noticed your bottom hand had drawn up to collect the hand lying around your waist and lace your fingertips between them while the other was braced against his forearm. The softness of the experience had your heart swell, the morning bliss of a night of slumber free from expectation from one another had a smile find residency against your lips. 

“G’mornin’ Doll,” a lazy voice drawled from behind you, his lips pressing a small kiss against your exposed skin before his mind caught up with his foggy thoughts to tell him not to. You giggled at his kiss, allowing your heart to flutter and soar at the feeling of his lips brushing against you. 

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” you whispered back at him, refusing to roll over to break away from the comfortable embrace. You felt his lengthy eyelashes dance against your neck as he fluttered them to break from his slumber and relocate his mind as to where he was. 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry, Doll!” He flinched away, breaking from your embrace and scuttling away from you. You turned over to face him, a broad smile on your face as you shook your head at him. “I warned ‘ya I was a hugger. I didn’t mean to kiss you, honest! Shit, I’m sorry. You must think the worst of me: inviting a stranger into your house after feedin’ ‘em, bathing and sharing a bed. I’m so, so sorry. It just felt natural-.”

You took the opportunity to collect his cheek beneath your palm and draw his face close to yours, pressing a small kiss against his lips; prompting a muffled groan to depart from his lips and into your own. You smiled, attempting to withdraw from your claim on his lips, only to find him angling his body above your own. He rested his weight on his forearm and deepened the kiss you invited him to share with you.

Pressing down further, he ushered you onto your back to continue to place open mouthed and dangerously seductive kisses against your lips. His chapped lips danced expertly against your own, the laziness of the morning all but halting as the fire of desire began to build between you. He collected the scruff of the back of your neck beneath his fingertips, lacing them in your hair and tugging lightly on it, eliciting a gasp of shock from you. 

Groaning against your lips, you couldn’t stop your fingers from reaching themselves below his shirt and raking your hands against the cerulean hair beneath the cotton. He jittered away, a portion of his abdomen ticklish beneath your dancing fingers. You drew them over his back, scrawling them upwards to cradle his caging body further into you as your lips continued their heated connection. 

Before you truly knew what had become of you, you found yourself collecting the cotton material of the shirt within your fingertips and prying it off his torso and casting it to the side. You took the time to enjoy the artistry in the marble figure adorned with a soft margin of blue hair dancing atop his dewy flesh. His heart soared at the feeling of adoration beneath your gaze, but quickly his pride was eclipsed with lust once more as he witnessed the small peaks of your nipples hardening against your own shirt. 

Hastily, he lunged at you, removing your own shirt as hastily as you did his; although he opted to continue by prying off your shorts alongside them. Now in your nudity, he drank in every inch of you; from your toes, up to your calves, to your plush thighs that had his jaw clenching in anticipation, to the top of your groin presented to him. You held your thighs shut, not quite exposing how truly aroused you were by his actions. He drew his eyes up to your breasts and sighed, much akin to when he took the first bite of the meal you offered him the night before. 

A simple “oh fuck,” was all it took for you to remove the band of his pants from their place on his waist, the tip of his cock meeting his lower stomach with a small slap. Your face depicted your wanton desperation, your pupils blown to eclipse the color of your irises, as your hand drew itself to circle the base of his incredibly sensitive cock. The tip shuddered as he sighed out a shaken breath, the dewy drops of precum already coating the slit with its lubricants, swaying your body to respond by coating your entrance with a fresh wave of your own slickened arousal. 

You sat in silence, enjoying the exposure of your bodies in the light of the rays of the dawn. Buggy’s hands shook a little, static of anticipation depicted in the way his fingertips opened and closed with anticipation. You were both unsure how to progress from this point; Buggy with not having access to this type of affection in a readily way, and you also not having a romantic partner since your ex left. 

“Can I-?” He began, halting his words as you spoke at the same time.

“-Do you?” You asked him just as curiously as he did, halting as you heard his voice halt. 

Both of you laughed at your awkwardness, you scrunching up your nose as you sat upright. Hooking your arms beneath his shoulders and pulling him against yourself, falling backwards to meet your head with the plush pillows once more. He chucked as you drew him in once more for another kiss, his chuckle halting and evolving into a low, shocked groan as you opened your legs to him and hooked your left knee over his right hip. You ushered him closer, his body halting its decent and him sucking in a breath at your actions. 

You broke your kiss, sensing his apprehension and gazed up into his wide, teal eyes. You darted your eyes between his and floating down to his kiss-bruised lips before back up to meet his shocked expression once more. 

“We can stop if you want?” You both asked at the same time, eyes cracking in and upturned smile as you checked in with each other. Buggy placed a chaste kiss against your nose, trailing a sporadic fluttering arrangement of kisses over to your cheek and down your jaw as you both laughed. 

“Just thought I’d give you one final out, before I s-sink-...” he began, the tip of his cock twitching itself against your clit and brushing down your glistening entrance, prodding at the opening, “-In.” He groaned as he felt your body stretch around his tip, a small gasped whine pulling itself from your lips as the initial sting eased into the pleasant feeling of stretching wide to fully accommodate more of him.

Your eyes clamped tightly shut, wincing a little as he eased more of his impressive girth into you, his own eyes rolling back as he slowly sank into you. Crying out a little at the stretch, Buggy’s breath hitched, prompting him to lean up on his hands to hover over you once more. 

“Are you okay, Doll. I’m not hurtin’ you or anything, am I? I wouldn’t bare the thought of givin’ you any pain,” he cupped your cheek, coaxing your eyes to reopen under his palm and meeting his concerned eyes. 

“I-It’s just been a little while, Sweetheart. Just need t-,” you arched your hips upwards, your needy walls sucking more of his length into yourself. A low, rumbled groan pulled itself from your guest as the small patch of hair above his shaft met with your clit; fully sinking down into you, “-to adjust a little b-before you move, okay?” 

Buggy drew in a shaken breath through his parted lips, his eyes shutting tightly closed as he relished in the feeling of your warm core sucking him in so beautifully. The contraction of your walls as you adjusted to his length had him fall from his forearms, head finding residency against your neck and placing a flurry of open-mouthed kisses against your neck and shoulder. You whimpered at the sensation of being full as he lovingly grazed his tongue over your pulse and down to your clavicle bone. 

“You can move, if you want,” you whimpered, grinding your hips upwards to coax him on to move. 

“If I want?” he murmured into your shoulder, brow arching up as he circled his hips against your core, prompting a small cry to fall from your lips in bliss, “No, Doll. I want you to want it. I need you to tell me you want me to move. You need to tell me what feels good for you so I can treat you right, okay?” You whimpered again, crying out his name as he ground himself against you in a circular motion.

“Tell me what you want,” Buggy groaned his hoarse voice into your ear, his teeth nipping at your lobe and jaw, “Tell me.” His light whine had you throw your head back as you hooked your right leg over his left hip and grasped his ass-cheeks in fistfulls to hold him against you. You relished once more in the small twitch of his cock within your walls, quivering and awaiting instruction with anticipation.

“I want you to move,” You whispered in a breathy whimper, “I want you to fuck me.” You sought out his gaze with a small nudge of your forehead meeting with his, ushering him away from contact with your neck. He moved his head, gazing down into your eyes as he tested withdrawing his cock partially before resheathing itself within your warm walls. You mewled in bliss, his shuddered low groan mixing harmoniously with your tone. 

“Oh, f-fuck-...” He uttered, again testing a small thrust within you before immediately beginning a low and rolling rhythm of pistoning within your core. The flutter of your walls circling his cock had his eyes rolling back as more groans were pulled unrestrained and crying into the room. Your tone was not much different, crying out your bliss as you watched his face begin contorting in pleasure.

“O-Oh f-fu-... ngmm-f-... you’re s-so good at this,” you complimented him, his eyes snapping to meet with yours once more as you continued to praise him, “And you’re s-so pretty.”

“P-Pretty?” he laughed, picking up his pace with the rough clap of his hips meeting yours, “You think I’m pretty-... mm-ng-... like th-this?” He picked up his pace, his balls slapping against you with each powerful thrust of his hips. He relished in fully sheathing within you, grinding his hips against you to stimulate your clit as he pulled more pretty sounds from your lips. 

“I th-think you’re beautiful,” you confessed, your voice higher than you thought it ought to be as you cried out in bliss. Your stomach began to twist and contract, the feeling of an overwhelming blissful ignition of pleasure beginning to tighten. He groaned into you, his shuddered tone lulling into a soft growl at your compliments. His balls began to tighten against his flesh, feeling the stampeding approach of his own bliss beginning to hasten. His knob twitched within you, prompting a gasp to fal from your lips as you threw your head back.

“Y-You’re-...ah-h, fuck-... gorgeous, Doll,” He complimented you, your eyes meeting as you felt the familiar tingle in your toes as they curled behind him. You smiled as you hooked your ankles within one another and slowly drew your hands up to pull his neck into you for another meeting of your lips with his. He groaned and whimpered into your mouth, his staggering movements alerting you of how close he was to his release. 

“W-Where c-can-... fuck me-e-... I-...” He continued plunging himself into your walls, his jaw staggering as his glazed eyes began to prick at the corners as he concentrated on not finishing within you, no matter how much he desired to. Holding onto the approach of your own pleasure, you refused to have him pull out of you and release his seed over your stomach or into his fist. Feeling selfish, you held a seriousness in your eyes as you uttered your commands.

“I want you to fill me. I want you to empty yourself into me and keep fucking me through it until all I can think about is how good you feel,” you demanded, rocking your hips up to meet his stuttered movement. His eyes were wide, wild and frantic as he heard your confession continue, “Don’t you dare think of pulling out. I-I’m too close for y-you to stop. Please. Please, Buggy. I n-need you.”

“O-Oh, fuck. I-I’m cumming. Doll, I-I’m-... nmngh, fuck-... I’m f-filling you up. You f-feel it? I’m d-doing what you told me,” Buggy cried your name as he rocked his hips against yours as he emptied himself into you. 

Unsure if it was either his whimpered cries of bliss, the particularly hard slap of his staggered hips meeting your own, the ropes of his thickened load splashing within your walls with his cock twitching within you, or his admission of following your orders flawlessly; you clenched around his shaft in bliss as your walls contracted with a rhythmic thump as you allowed him to usher you through the waves of your high.

“Such a good boy,” you praised him, prompting him to wince out another broken whimper at your utterance. You cried out in your own bliss as the woven coil shattered and warmth spread throughout your abdomen to coat your body with the sparked radiance of your bliss. A sharpness of a bolt of lightning from a particularly harsh snap of his hips had your eyes rolling back and mouth hanging ajar as the plush trail of blue hair met with your clit and provided stimulus to have you scream his name. 

“Oh, fuck, Buggy! I-I’m-... I’m-,” you laced your arms around his shoulders and pulled him against you, his whimpers due to the staggered overstimulation of his rapidly reducing cock thrusting messily within you. He continued to shepherd you through your high as you arched your back into him, grinding your hips and thrashing below him as your ankles unhooked from behind his back. 

After your bodies rode through their mutual bliss, you gazed lovingly into the perfect stranger now coated with the beaded dewiness of the afterglow of a passionate entanglement. He managed to halt his panting breath to smile at you, collecting your cheek beneath his palm and drawing your forehead against his own with his eyes lulling closed. 

“Was that okay?” He asked you, his cock remaining sheathed within you and twitching within your final thumps of your orgasm. You laughed at him, scrunching up your nose with a simple: “It was nice.” He laughed at your echo of his own words back at him, the corners of his eyes cracking at the corners

“Thank you for taking me in and showing me there’s still kindness in this world, especially for the likes of me, Doll,” he brushed his large nose against yours, prompting a small giggle to fall from your lips as your breath caught up with you.

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart,” you whispered up into his face, brushing your lips gently with his, “And you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.” You made to move away from him, only for him to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you in close as he could, burying his forehead into your neck. 

“I’d like that,” he hushed his tone to mimic your own as he placed one more lengthy kiss against your flesh and held you firmly. 

As the day floated into night once more, you ensured your guest was fell fed and watered throughout the hours he shared with you. His clothes hanging on the line still remained slightly damp, although you were certain he spilled a small amount of water on them to elongate a reason his stay with you further. 

Lounging casually with him on the plush sofa, you rested your head against his shoulder and began coloring a small sketch you managed to produce of him. There was something in the color of his eyes, something about the way his lengthy blue eyelashes framed his beautiful orbs within his sockets had you hypnotized as you shaded the circular lines you produced of him. 

He gazed half-lidded over your shoulder, watching as you captured his likeness within the parchment paper with pencils, brushes and charcoals littering the page. He hummed softly, pressing his cheek atop your hair as you held firm your focus against the sheet. 

Relishing in the bliss of sweet domesticity he never expected to come from a small kindness offered towards him, he allowed a small amount of sorrow to release from his heart as he heard the call of adventure on the seas whispering his name. 

“When I go,” he whispered into your hair, prompting you to halt your sketching with your ears pricking up, “Will you come with me, Doll? Sail with me and seek out inspiration?” You mulled it over in your mind, weighing up the consequences with the bliss you knew sailing brought you. 

“You’re all the inspiration I need, Sweetheart,” you confessed, leaning up to glance lovingly into his face, “And I’d be glad to sail with you. It’s been a while since I’ve traveled, you might have to help me get my sea-legs back.” You giggled, pressing a small kiss on his jaw with him sighing out a small laugh at you.

“I’d be happy to carry you everywhere until you do, Doll,” he uttered while closing his eyes, “repay you somehow for the kindness you’ve given me. Plus,” he arched his back down, brushing his lips against your neck with his mouth partially agape and leaving a small trail of his breath pricking your skin up beneath it, “I do love your legs, and I’d love to feel them wrapped around me again in any capacity.” 

Tag List: @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @feral-artistry

[teenwolfvore]

Halloween Hijinx

(A day late, but not a dollar short lol. Meant to get this up on Halloween. I also did a few stylistic things. I would love feedback)

Summary: A hungry mummy Scott McCall eats Derek Hale.

Scott's phone was buzzing. And buzzing. And buzzing. All from the same person, Stiles. The texts read as the following.

Stiles: hey where are you

Stiles: Scott call me back

Stiles: Scott, have you seen Derek?

Stiles: seriously dude, come on, answer me.

Stiles: dude I could totally be dead right now.

Stiles: I died

Stiles: Scottttttttttttttt

All of those and the multiple calls went ignored. Scott was in the middle of something important. He was currently eating Derek Hale as a Halloween snack.

It all started about an hour ago. Scott asked Derek to help him out with his costume. Scott decided that he was going to be funny this year and go as a mummy. Complete with the toilet paper wrapped around his body. Derek, forever the grump, wasn't going as anything this year. But he was going to be a good friend to Scott and help him out.

Derek moaned at Scott getting undressed, but Scott was body positive. Derek rolled his eyes at the True Alpha’s mentality and began to help him out, starting with his legs and feet. There was just one small underlying problem that would eventually jump its way back to the present.

Scott hadn't eaten all day.

Between lacrosse practice and work immediately after, Scott was lucky he was even getting to go to this party that he was putting this costume on for. He didn't have time to eat at all. He just justified it by telling himself that he was going to eat when he got to the party. No big deal, he just needed to sit long enough to be wrapped in toilet paper.

Scott underestimated his hunger. His stomach was doing whale calls throughout this entire process. Derek making multiple comments on it as he bandaged up Scott's thighs and eventually his waist. Scott bit his lip and tried to ignore his hunger pains. “Just a little while longer.” He told himself.

It was when Scott's arms were being bandaged that Scott got desperate. Derek was adamant about not moving until it was done and Scott's werewolf hunger was getting the best of him. Scott did his best to just relax and not be so antsy, but he couldn't help it. Especially when he locked eyes onto Derek.

(Derek Hale)

It was no secret that Derek was a beefcake of the highest magnitude. Big arms, big chest, big everything. Practically packed with protein. Scott didn't even realize that he was drooling until Derek told him that it was falling onto his chest. Scott had begun to rationalize if he could actually eat Derek. It had to be, Scott had big meals before, Derek shouldn't be too hard. And after wrestling with the idea for long enough, Scott finally felt his hunger boil over.

The second that Derek took his hands off of Scott, the true Alpha pounced. Suddenly the older wolf was pushed to the floor. Derek tried to fight off the mummy Alpha werewolf, but it was no use. Derek was no match for Scott's strength and his hunger. Any attempt to reason with Scott went into one ear and out the other. Then before Derek could shout, his face was stuffed onto Scott's tongue. Scott is more than surprised by the taste, happily gulps more of that yummy stud down.

Scott's neck bulges as he swallows Derek's neck. Derek's big boulder shoulders are no issue. Scott rips the t-shirt that he was wearing to ribbons. He didn't want anything obstructing Derek's meat. He squeezes the shoulders together into his mouth and swallows. Scott had pinned Derek's beefy arms to his side. Scott's mouth was almost stretched to its limits. The drool coming out of his mouth was overflowing.

Scott horked down more of that beefy stud desperately. He needed to have this meal in his belly yesterday. Derek's beefy chest and nipples are quickly tasted before Scott tips his head back to get them down his throat. Scott then slides those abs across his tongue and counts those hairy bumps of muscle. He was grateful that Derek was such Adonis and could provide him with a hearty meal.

Scott uses his claws to take off Derek's jeans to get access to gorgeous rump and his cock. Scott collects Derek's cock into his mouth and begins to play with it. With most of him down, there wasn't much that Derek could do to stop him. Derek's frantic motions had turned to lustful wiggles. Derek briefly forgot that Scott was eating him and was more focused on getting himself off. Scott felt his own sizable cock getting hard and pushing through the toilet paper. He began to jerk himself while jerking off Derek. The larger wolf moaned at the bottom of Scott's throat until eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He blew his load all over and in Scott's mouth. The alpha drinks it all down and sends it to splatter over Derek's top half. A little bit dribbles out of Scott's mouth and falls down onto his own cock. Amused by getting his prey off, Scott continues his meal.

Derek was too exhausted now to resist meaningfully. His legs were limp as Scott slurped them up like noodles. Scott had begun to lose layer after layer of the toilet paper because of his stomach bulging. The more that Scott filled up with Derek, the less toilet paper he had. Scott lost his abs and soon gained a Derek sized bulge. Before too long, the only thing that was left was Derek's large feet. With a couple of slothful bites, they soon are completely swallowed up behind Scott's jaws. Then with a single gulp, Scott sends the rest of Derek's legs to join his gut.

Most of Scott's tan belly was revealed now with just a few sashes of the toilet paper left. Underneath was the engorged belly and Derek Hale bulging from within. Scott sighs contently as he rubs over Derek's form. His hunger had finally been sated and with such a big meal too. Scott licks his lips to remind himself of Derek's flavor. With that heavy weight in his belly, Scott lays out on the floor with his arms and legs spread.

Scott looks over to see the texts that Stiles had been sending him. Scott chuckles as he just clicks it off for now and steadily rubs over the other werewolf trapped inside of his belly covered in his own cum. Scott's own cock still hard regains his attention. He quickly grabs a hold of the lengthy member with both hands and begins to jack off again on his overstuffed belly. It doesn't take long for Derek to get active once again inside of Scott's belly. Apparently he wasn't too happy with being a device to get Scott off. Scott chuckles as he uses one hand to taunt Derek by patting his head. Scott grunts and moans as he gets close, eventually he releases his own load all over his hand, belly, and the toilet paper. Just as he does so, Scott unleashes a huge burp that shakes his room.

The alpha werewolf smiles contently as he looks at cum covered belly. Derek was still moving slightly but he was exhausted at this point. Scott grabs his neglected phone and finally responds to Stiles.

Scott: Hey Stiles, Derek and I are going to be a little late. I had to go for a snack. What do you think? ;)

Scott snaps a picture of his belly and sends it as an attachment. The younger wolf looks down at his belly again and smiles. He continues to give his gut pats and rubs reminding the big beefcake werewolf of what he was.

Food for a true Alpha Werewolf.

[gretchensinister]

So the yeerks, at a basic level, are motivated to infest other species in order to gain access to better senses and have mobility outside the yeerk pools. They're parasites and that's how they work.

Now, it's wrong for them to enslave species such as humans, hork-bajir, andalites, taxxons, etc.

But I also think it would be wrong to consider morphing technology as a solution (that is, having yeerks go permanent morph as a different species to have senses and mobility). That would essentially be telling yeerks to voluntarily have their species go extinct because it sucks, and that's questionable to say the least.

So my question is, are there any species on Earth that would be suitable as an alternative yeerk host? Like is there any species that the able-to-talk-to-each-other species would be cool with yeerks generally infesting? The animal would have to be one with a large enough brain for the yeerk to live, and there would have to be lots of them/potential for lots of them, and also able to communicate with the other talk-to-each-other species in some way.

Would, like...racoons work for this? Would we be cool with racoons being controlled by intelligent brain slugs? Are racoons big enough? As for communication I think racoons have hands/arms that are capable of sign language so that's just an ordinary translation issue.

[cluelessrebel1988]

If I Ran The Zoo (or how I would plot out an Animorphs TV/streaming series if I had the time/ability/resources)

So this is something I've been kicking around in my head on-again, off-again for a couple years now, and I thought I'd put it out there, just for the lols (do people still say that?)

My thought process is for a 5 season arc, with each season being somewhere in the neighborhood of 13-15 episodes long, give or take. There would be a few changes with the order of things, and a few minor characters would play a bigger role. I'm not going to go episode by episode, but just sort of outline the big arcs for each season. I'm not in any way suggesting that this is the best way to do it, just that this is how I would do it.

Season 1

This season obviously would start the events of The Invasion and would primarily incorporate events/plot points from the first 10 books, including finding Ax in his crashed ship (though I would move that to either take place in the first episode, or in the second half of the two-part premiere), Tobais getting stuck in his hawk form (and getting an episode or two dedicated to him coming to terms with that), and introducing Erik and the Chee (Erik would be introduced as a friend of Marco's early in the season, with his identity as a Chee being revealed in the second half of the season).

The only major plot point from that run of the series I wouldn't put into play just yet is the reveal of Marco's mother as Visser One (although I would be very much establishing her through flashbacks, dreams, etc., so people will recognize her when Visser One does show up).

The main arc of the season would involve the Kandrona Ray and the events of The Stranger, with the team meeting the Ellimist and learning about the ray and its significance and plotting to take it down to try to end/expose the invasion. Erik and Ax tagteam providing info about the ray and its use, but it's the vision from the Ellimist that gives Rachel the final clue, again, as in the book, with that occuring at the end of the penultimate episode. The season finale is solely focused on devising and executing the plan to destroy the ray. The plan would succeed, which would prompt Visser One's return, revealing her host to be Marco's mother as the cliffhanger for the season.

Obviously, we would be exploring the kid's home lives more, with the relationship with their families and friends and the whole 'work-life balance' thing that comes with fighting a guerilla war against an alien invasion. Not to the point where they're having to fake illnesses to skip school every episode, but enough to show that it's putting a strain on their relationships. I would also explore Rachel's relationship with Melissa Chapman more and have Melissa be a bigger supporting character in the show. We'd also introduce Karen and Aftran in this season, revealing her to be a controller early on, but something that Cassie doesn't find out until the end of the season

Season 2

Season 2 would pick up a few weeks after season 1, as The Alien did with The Stranger. The kids learn that their hope that the invasion would reveal itself with the Kandrona ray destroyed were in vain and that Ax knew that. The premiere would largely follow the plot of that book, with the Animorphs attempting to integrate Ax into society and attempting to take the fight to Visser Three with the help of a Yeerk traitor, and Ax telling the others about the Law of Seerow's Kindness. Ax would get a lot of development this season, with the events of The Deception coming into play.

Tobias would help free the Hork-Bajir as in The Change and get his human form back as a morph, and the reveal that he is Elfangor's son would be included in this season as well (Obviously we're tapping into the Andalite Chronicles for flashbacks in at least one episode this season to help set that up).

Marco's main character arc would revolve around learning that his mother is Visser One, keeping it a secret, only to have the others find out later, thus incorporating The Predator and The Escape. Also Visser One is the big bad for the season, delving more into her conflict with Visser Three. The season would end with her supposed death following the Animorphs' thwarting of her plans

For Cassie, we cover the utilize adapted versions of The Departure and set up for The Sickness, with Karen/Aftran and Cassie perhaps getting trapped somewhere and forced to work together to get out of it, laying the groundwork for Aftran to be captured by Visser Three. The season finale would also center around the efforts to rescue Aftran.

Jake and Rachel will have arcs and roles to play in each of these stories as they each start to fall into their respective roles as leader and fighter, respectively. If they get their own arc, it would be around trying to save Tom specifically.

Additionally, Melissa is still around in her expanded role, but with a new friend: David, who would be introduced fairly early in the season in a recurring role (Melissa is also recurring at this point). She and David will have a B-plot where they become friends and are together when David finds the morphing cube, the discovery of which also occurs in the finale.

Season 3

Obviously, the primary source for the main arc of season 3 is the David Trilogy, with The Discovery in particular serving as the source for the season premiere. It plays out mostly the same, with the Animorphs learning that David and Melissa have the cube and plans to sell it online. They try to retrieve the cube before the two of them can attract the attention of the Yeerks, but ultimately fail, leading to the battle at David's house. They manage to get Melissa and David out of the house before they can be captured, and are forced to reveal themselves and tell them what's happening, essentially recruiting them into the Animorphs.

The events of the rest of the trilogy, with the threat to the UN summit or some similar event involving world leaders as a target that they have to keep the Yeerks from taking advantage of -- as well as with David and Melissa's reactions to being Animorphs -- would take up the majority of the plot this season. Obviously Melissa becoming an Animorph opens up some new potential for her arc, especially around her relationship with her dad and trying to come to terms with him being a controller (and the fact that Rachel has been keeping this a secret all along). She and David would have similar arcs around their parents being controllers, but while David ultimately turns against the Animorphs, Melissa does not (although David tries to convince her to). The season ends with the gang trapping David in a rat morph, as the books do.

One of Melissa's major character traits is her interest in technology, something she used to bond with her father over (working together to take things apart and then put them back together before be became a Controller to try to keep her safe) and I imagine her and Ax developing something of an awkward friendship as she tries to ask him about the morphing technology and other Andalite technology, with him being reluctant to share due to the Law of Seerow's Kindness. But, as he's grown closer with the Animorphs, he would eventually acquiesce and they would begin to bond. The two big relationships (Rachel and Tobias, and Cassie and Jake) also take major steps this season

The other major arc for the season involves other Andalites, incorporating The Arrival and The Other, with the reveal that other Andalites are on earth and some are there to help...or are they? The season would also end with Tobias getting captured by the Yeerks to begin the laying of the groundwork for the discovery that the Animorphs are not, in fact, Andalite bandits.

Season 4

The events of The Illusion and The Test would be adapted for the season premiere, including the introduction of the Yeerk resistance (led in this series by Karen/Aftran) and Tobias's capture and torture, with the main difference being that it is Tom (who has largely been a secondary or tertiary villain thus far) being the one who conducts the torture. During the interrogation, Tobias lets something slip that most of the controllers in the room don't pick up on, but Tom does, leading him to investigate and setting up for the finale, which would be largely and adaptation of The Diversion, with the race against time to save their families taking up the majority of the episode. Melissa is able to save her parents, her father proving to be an asset in the final season with his knowledge of how Yeerk technology works.

This season as a whole would focus on escalating the war between the Animorphs and the Yeerks. The stakes become higher, as are tensions following David's betrayal. Visser One returns, learning that Marco is one of the Animorphs and we incorporate the events of Visser, seeing the Animorphs rescue her.

Following Tobias's capture and torture, Rachel becomes more angry and vengeful, setting up for her arc over the final season (we've seen hints of her violent streak over the series up to this point, but it gets more intense this season).

Season 5

With their secret out, the Animorphs regroup in the Hork-Bajir valley and try to figure out their next move. The final arc of the series would play out largely how it does over the course of the final books, with the team recruiting more Animorphs to help them with their mission, and even trying to recruit government and military officials to aid in the fight. Tom gets the morphing cube, adding controllers with the ability to morph (other than the newly appointed Visser One) to the threat against the Animorphs. The final battle would be a multi-pronged attack, with the bombing of the Yeerk Pool being part of the final assault and not a separate battle.

Rachel gets aboard the blade ship and kills Tom before being killed herself. In an effort to make up for the harm he caused, Hedrick Chapman sacrifices himself to both ensure the Yeerk Pool bomb goes off and to save Melissa one final time (the pair of them were in charge of building/detonating it, along with Ax), and Jake orders the flushing of the Yeerk Pool on the the Pool ship, alienating Erek and the rest of the Chee going forward. All of this is in the penultimate episode.

The series finale follows the aftermath of the war in The Beginning, and, as the books did, the series would end with Jake, Tobias, and Marco (and probably Melissa) being recruited to help save Ax from an as-yet unknown threat.

And there you have it, my outline for how an Animorphs series could/should play out. As I said at the start, this is just my idea and others might have different thoughts about what order the arcs should go in and what significant changes (if any) would be made. Please be kind with any criticisms, and if you'd like to share your thoughts with me, my inbox is open. I also did a fancast for the series a few years ago if anyone's curious about who would play who

[seat-safety-switch]

A lot of people laugh at me for wearing earplugs when I'm driving my car long distances. Good thing I can't hear them, mostly because my exhaust is insanely loud.

Now, this is not on purpose. There's no reason I would deliberately involve the police more in my affairs, and "loud pipe-y thing" is absolutely in their wheelhouse of casual harassment. It's not my fault. You see, Mother Nature herself reached down and corroded out these babies from the inside, and I just haven't gotten around to welding them back up. I don't want to bother my neighbours with the sound of the angle grinder running, you see. So loud!

Instead, I just try not to rev up the engine too much in the neighbourhood. At idle, it's fairly tolerable. By the time I'm on the highway, though, I simply don't have the gearing to keep the revs low, so it sounds like an army of banshees trying their best to hork up a furball. For hours at a time. I like to protect my hearing, as it's my greatest warning of the approach of my street-racing predators (zooted-up Honda Civics, base-model RX-7s with less compression than fear of death,) hence the earplugs. Cheapo foam ones, of course. My health isn't worth that much.

So if you hear me droning my way down the interstate, make sure to wave. Just don't shout too much, because I won't respond, and you'll think I'm being rude or something. Also, don't stand behind this thing when I turn it off. It diesels for a little while, and I'm not allowed to park near the grasslands preservation area anymore after it shot that big fireball.

[pokemonshelterstories]

which baby Pokémon look goofiest (/aff) in your opinion?

baby cramorant. theyre like weird little wads of chewed up bubblegum, which is only made more ridiculous by the fact that their parents will hork up tremendous chunks of arrokuda for them to eat and sometimes it's too big for them to swallow so they just hold it. imagine someone stepped on a jellybean and tried to patch it up with a chunk of tinned magikarp. it's awful. i swear they're born cross-eyed.

runnerup is baby taillow, which by the time they're 2 weeks old look roughly like a dishevelled old man and will stare at you judgmentally from their nest like those old guys on the muppets

[kooldewd123]

Honestly the Hork-Bajir Chronicles gives such an interesting spin on Visser Three's character. He comes off as a bit of an arrogant buffoon most of the time, but actually getting a look at where he started, it's easy to see why. He's surprisingly smart, but insanely ambitious, and the latter tends to overtake the former. He researches Andalites endlessly before getting a proper host body, and seems like the most tactically knowledgeable Yeerk among his crew. And the big thing is - he keeps getting proven right. He knows that destroying Seerow's scoop is foolhardy. He starts out with a silent invasion of the Hork-Bajir, but his pivot to a guns-blazing attack is a major factor in their eventual victory. He successfully predicts Aldrea's actions multiple times and would have infested her had his ambition not gotten the better of him. And later, in the Andalite Chronicles, he quickly analyzes Elfangor's weakness and is able to exploit them to misdirect him and finally infest an Andalite, which was his goal from the very beginning. But because he's been right so many times, his arrogance has become so overinflated that by the time the main series actually starts, he can't even begin to fathom the idea that he's wrong.