#but I hope y’all still enjoy!

[hungry-tum-stuff]

"Every time I'm about to start drifting off, your belly rumbles and wakes me right back up."

absolutely adore your writing btw! you're an excellent writer and your characterization and dialogue are fantastic. thank you for sharing your work with us!

Thank you so much!!! It means the world when folks compliment my writing, it’s people like you who give me the motivation to post in the first place <3

CW: Hunger, that’s all

“Buck…”

“Mhm?” Buck stirred, yawning as he lifted his head to look at Dante, who was resting his head against his chest and staring back up at Buck with his brows furrowed.

“Are you hungry?” Dante asked, folding his arms under his chin as Buck blinked tiredly.

“Why-“ He began, but was cut off by his stomach growling. Buck’s face flushed, the embarrassment waking him up fully as Dante chuckled and poked his shirtless belly.

“Because every time I start to drift off, your belly rumbles and wakes me right back up.” Dante says as he begins to rub Buck’s empty tummy, which was still gurgling unhappily. “I don’t know how the hell you can sleep with it making all that noise, it’s been keeping me up all night…”

“Shoot, I’m sorry honey…” Buck frowned, leaning down to plant a kiss on Dante’s head. “I ate a heck of a lot at dinner tonight, I didn’t think I’d still be this hungry.”

“Well you ate dinner at 4, babe.” Dante reminded, smoothing his hand over Buck’s potbelly. Even while empty it still had a pleasant softness to it, and a roundness that began just under his pecs and sloped off by his hips, resulting in some very nice love handles. When Buck was full his belly was much rounder and firmer, but right now Dante could tell how hungry he was just by all the empty space he could feel beneath his fingers. And by how much noise it was making. “And now it’s the middle of the night. You gotta be starving.”

Buck’s stomach groaned, confirming Dante’s conclusion. He gave it some firmer rubs as Buck chuckled abashedly. “You ain’t wrong… I could go for a midnight snack.” He said expectantly, already thinking about everything they had in their fridge. Leftovers, lunch meat… His stomach churned and cramped, more than ready for Buck to get up and give into his appetite.

“But I am awful comfy… I’m likin’ this belly rub.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious… Don’t you think some food in your belly would feel better?”

“Not as good as you sittin’ right here with me~” Buck flirted, which caused his partner to get up with a huff. Buck frowned and sat up, putting a hand on his aching belly now that the soothing rubs had ceased.

“Where you goin?” Buck called after Dante, who had left the room.

“To make you some damn food!” Dante called back. Buck rubbed his eyes and hoisted himself out of bed as the kitchen light flicked on to reveal his partner scrambling around the kitchen, gathering pots, pans and ingredients. “I know you’re feeling all well-rested and lovey-dovey but I still ain’t gotten any sleep.”

Buck shuffled behind Dante and wrapped his arms around him, leaning over to rest his chin atop his head. His stomach rumbled against Dante’s back.

“Sorry for makin’ you grouchy…”

“Yeah yeah-“ Dante glanced up at Buck, smiling slightly. “Just try not to let your tummy do all the talking for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. I don’t get why you always wait until you’re starving to eat.” Dante scolded, tossing some chicken in his pan, the sizzle and smell of it cooking nearly causing Buck’s tummy to riot. “You know I don’t mind cooking a second dinner, or picking up some dessert.”

Buck smiled slightly. “You don’t gotta be doin’ all that for me.”

“If it means I can get some sleep, I’ll do anything you want.” Dante insisted, glancing back at Buck playfully. Buck just laughed and leaned over to kiss Dante’s cheek.

“Now who’s flirting?”

“I’m making you food, I’m doing more than flirting Buck.” Dante kissed him back. “Now, do you want garlic or pesto sauce?”

[i-like-forcefem]

You wake up due to a an odd discomfort around your groin, you feel around and touch something soft and plastic?

You turn on the lights and find yourself lock in a small, pink chastity cage

You panic a little, you’ve never done this before, you try to pull it off and it won’t budge and you notice just how little you can touch your member now

You get hard

It hurts

You look around the room and see an envelope next to a small pile of clothes and some odd plastic?

You open the envelope

My dearest love,

You wronged me, the fact you wouldn’t know who I am makes it that much worse

So I thought it’d only be right if I punished you

As you might’ve found out already I’ve securely locked you up and only I have the key

If you ever want it back you’ll need to do some things for me first

Mod course you won’t be allowed to touch your memeber until I release you

Next you will need to wear the clothes, and insert the remote anal vibrator I provided to you

You will then need to watch any porngraphic content I send you over the course of the next 2 weeks, dressed up and wearing the plug

I’ve made a separate number where we can chat

I expect you to use the proper respect when talking to me

I expect you to thank me for teaching you how to be a good girl

And I expect you to drop whatever you’re doing whenever I send you a message, and if I so ask you’ll put on the shuttle clothes I gave you, put in the plug, and watch whatever degrading smut I sent you while I control your ass

Do this like a good girl for 2 weeks and I’ll take off the cage

Mess up once, and I’ll flush the key down the drain

Oh and don’t think to get it removed or anything, I got that onto you without you noticing once, and if you get it off I’ll know that means you’re ready for your second round!

And trust me you wouldn’t like the second round, something tells me that you’d hate losing your freedom of movement

So now be a good girl and dress yourself up already love~

I’m waiting

Oh! And one more thing!

I can and will change the rules at any time, for example one I thought of right now: the two weeks only count down if you spent the whole day in cute woman’s clothing, so if you ever put on those nasty clothes you’re wearing right now, the day doesn’t count and you still have 2 weeks to go

Good luck cutie! Try to keep me happy~

[starry-mang0s]

Yippee doodles!!

Such silly little guys 💛

[read-write-thrive]

saw @tma-thoughts ‘s post talking about not enough butch charles rowland and wanting to see more butch4femme painland and naturally I spent the entire rest of my day brainstorming, researching, and then drawing this time period accurate (to the best of my abilities) butch!Edwin(a? Edie?) x femme!Charles (definitely Charlotte/Charlie)

I have whole spreads of photo references for both of them but in case anyone is interested, Charles is inspired by rudegirl/ska punk/skinhead/punk/goth feminine aesthetics from the 1980s UK (even more specifically by the band The Bodysnatchers) while Edwin is inspired mainly by sportswear for women in the 1910s as well as what photos I could find of teenage girls during that era! in terms of Edwin reading as butch, I wanted to combine the shortest hair I could get away with (for the era and while still reading as Edwin—too 20s reads as too fashion forward which is not the vibe), as well as balance the line between sportswear (which imo reads as butch) and Edwin’s usual fashions. I also kept her makeup-free, accessory-free, and overall more “practical” in her dress to try and read as more butch. something to note that you don’t see here— Edwin is 100% wearing bloomers/trousers either as part of or underneath this skirt. I couldn’t get it to read correctly in the design but I need you to know they’re there lmao

feedback welcome (and further discussion even more so, I’m a slut for fashion history x character design!!!)

EDIT: now part of a series!!! part 2 (more sketches of Edwina); part 3 (lingerie!Edwina); & part 4 (lingerie!Charlotte)

[butchcarmy]

how do you think losing your v card to carmy would be like?

WOW. I have to just share my thoughts in a messy format for now but i will HAVE to write a fic about this. I honestly never thought about this before but now I’m feeling…sweaty!

Read more bc I got carried away, includes: fingering!!!!!!!!!!!!😳

As we all know I’m a virgin Carmy truther… but for this I can’t stop thinking about the idea of like…a newly experienced Carmy that’s really eager to please. Like he’s still been bitchless for most of his life LOL. Ig the specifics aren’t super important tho

He would take it slow, ask you a lot of questions. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?” He would ask, carefully rubbing circles in your clit. “Tell me,” he would say if you didn’t answer. He’s sweet, but I think he likes seeing the effect he has on you. He’s gentle, but can’t resist pushing your buttons (in a good way). He rubs your clit until you come, ensuring you’re wet enough to take his fingers.

What I’m REALLY thinking about is how he would open you up next. Oh my god. He starts with just one finger, pushing in slowly, massaging your clit with his other hand.

“You’ve never been filled up before, so I gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” he’d say, explaining why he keeps fingering you even though you swear you’re ready for him, you promise. One becomes two, his index and middle slowly scissoring you, and then that becomes a third one. You’re far wetter than you ever have been and you’re not sure if he shows signs of stopping. He took his other hand off your clit a while ago so you wouldn’t come, but sometimes it idly traces your folds curving around the shape of his fingers.

“I’ve fingered myself before,” you’d argue, but the argument sounds weak when he’s three thick fingers deep into your pussy. He knows this, too. He’d like to see that another time.

“I know, baby. Just a little longer.” You’re not sure how long it’s been, but the truth is, he’s kept you there for 30 minutes, just slowly working you open. And now he’s sneaking a fourth finger inside. “Does it hurt?” He’d ask gently. “Rub your clit if you need it, but don’t come.”

Finally, finally, after working you up to four fingers, you’re loose and open for him. Sure enough, he fits like a dream, and even then, you can feel why he worked you open the way he did. Carmy is thick, and he fills you up.

You don’t last long, not with how much Carmy’s fingered you. Your come so hard, gasping at the raw feeling of coming on his cock. You’re clenching and so wet that Carmy comes super quickly after. He got pretty worked up, hearing you moan so much for him earlier.

“Was that good for you?” He’d ask after when you guys are cuddling post-sex, like he didn’t just finger blast you. “So I know for next time,” he’d say, and by the look on his face, he can tell the answer you’re gonna have to his question. Smug ass LOL

Sooooo yeah. That is my vision (bows and leaves the room)

[junosswans]

They are arrested for Roy’s spectacular driving skills caused three car accidents on the way home. Riza is not happy about it.

[gaydexvocaloid]

new cover,!!!!!! pls enjoy :3 a LOT of work went into this one LOL

[robiinurheart33]

Haha wouldn’t it be so weird if when soap was taken and brainwashed he was constantly being compared to this soldier named “ghost” haha

Anyways explicit descriptions of psychological torture and violent intrusive thoughts under the cut

He would be beaten and berated constantly. why wasn’t he stronger than ghost, why wasn’t he faster, more skilled, better, stealthier, healthier.

Ghost could’ve done better in worse conditions.

Ghost has done better in worse conditions.

Why was soap not better even after all this?

It drove him up the wall, the way he would wonder who he was, seething and bleeding by the lip. After all that he’s gone though, all that he’s endured, everything.

Why wasn’t be better? Why can he never, ever be better?

They drove his sanity to the ground, spat and kicked at it until there was nothing but a shell of who he once was, and rebuilt it to fit their ideals. Soap couldn’t remember who he was before this, before the experiments. He couldn’t think, do, say anything without being ordered to do so by someone else.

Some days, soap would pull on the thin stripe down his scalp, eager to find some semblance of control over himself, even if it were pain. He would always get punished.

“It was the only thing he can and will recognise him by.”

“Ghost likes that on you.”

It made him hate the Mohawk even more.

He hates Ghost. He was sick of it. He was done waiting. He was done being compared to. He was done with being second to him. He wanted to pull him apart limb from limb, feel the hot blood spill over his teeth and he rips his throat apart, hear the sickening crunch of his neck being twisted, feel the smooth muscle of his skin ripple and tremble in fear of the one that he was supposedly supposed to be stronger than. Soap will never, ever get anything else in his life but the pure, white-hot rage of revenge. He maybe thinks this had lingered on since he was younger, before everything. It felt like an old friend, more so than his other emotions.

His first mission.

He will be better. He will be better. He will be the best. He will be good. This might be his only shot. This is. He will be the best. He will succeed. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail.

He runs into ghost.

At first, he didn’t know who he was. Soap was in a room with a few others, guns up and masks drawn, ready to shoot anyone who tries to come into the room. They had been infiltrated, and soap wasn’t told more than that. He didn’t really need to know more. Shoot the hostiles, keep people safe. Suddenly, bullets start to rain from outside the door, and soon enough, more and more bodies start hitting the floor. Soap does not panic. He hides behind a bookshelf, waiting.

A big ass motherfucker in a skull mask walks into the room and it looks like the shadows are warping to his presence. Soap does not panic. He reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh, flicking it up and holding it ready. He waits patiently until he stalks near the bookshelf, tightening his grip on the knife. They make eye contact, and through the skull mask stained with blood, he can see jet black eyes staring at him in shock. Death incarnate. Soap does not panic.

“Joh-”

Soap quickly slips out of his hiding spot, wrapping a forearm over his neck and attempting to jab the knife right into his socket. He feels a hand grip tightly onto his forearm, and he goes weightless. All the air escapes his lungs as his back slams against the floor, his head spinning. He screams at himself to get up, fight, be better, before he hears the familiar crackle of a radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

Ghost.

This is Ghost.

Ghost just fucking flipped him.

Soap does not panic. He does not panic but he feels a chill go down his spine as he sees red, scrambling back up onto his feet. The adrenaline starts to kick in now, and he lunges at him, ripping the radio off his vest and slamming it on the floor. He’s not completely sure why he did that, but in all fairness soap feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind, if his captors haven’t done so already. He punches Ghost, wincing slightly as his knuckle hit the cheekbone corner of his stupid skull mask. Soap starts to reach for his gun before Ghost punches back, hitting the mask clean off his face, pushing his back to the floor, one hand on his wrists. Soap starts to get really agitated now. After everything that he’s gone through, he’s still not good enough to beat ghost. He still hasn’t improved. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He makes eye contact with Ghost and is slightly taken aback when he is reflected with an equally crazed stare.

“Johnny.”

What the fuck?

Soap doesn’t say anything. Ghost’s eyes are brown, not black. Why hasn’t be killed him yet? Why isn’t Soap struggling? Ghost has blonde eyelashes.

“Where have you been?” To soap’s absolute horror, those brown eyes start to become glossy. He flinches back as if he’s been hit, and grits his teeth. No shit, he’s been here the whole time, where else is he supposed to be?

Soap surges forward and headbutts him in hopes of him letting go. He doesn’t, and it makes soap all the more dizzier, more frustrated. Why isn’t he fucking dead already? He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his mind right.

“Johnny. Johnny.” Can he just shut the fuck up? It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate for some reason. Shit. He feels overly exposed without the mask, feeling his body temperature rising steadily.

“Stop calling me that!” he growls out, twisting out of his grip and punching his across the face. The twisted skull mask looks almost comical out of place, but he can still see those eyes. Ghost’s hand comes to cup his cheek, and soap flinches back. His eyes look like Soap just mauled his puppy right in front of him. It makes him freeze in place, head awkwardly hovering between the floor and Ghost.

Images of blood spilling and needles, dirt and coffins fill his head, the sound of a neck snapping, gagging, screams and whimpers. Hands on him, eyes on him, never letting go. Stay. Soap snaps back into place, grabbing the mask and twisting it up, covering Ghost’s eyes. He quickly gets his other hand free and pushes ghost off him, sprinting out of the room.

“Wait-!” Is all he hears before flying down the corridor, back to safety, back to where it’s familiar, where he always is, where he always will be.

Loyalty has always been Soap’s best trait.

[emily-mooon]

Can I have s5 jancy divorce era angst now?

(Pose Ref ↓)

Idk what shoujo/or josei manga this is from. It was one of my style refs for the most recent shoujo protag Nancy piece. Found it in betsuma shueisha’s archive. Thought it was a very jancy pose :]

[yikesola]

yikesola’s Oct19, 2009 compilation

Travelling North to Find You— Rating: G, Word Count: 1.1k

Holding Hands— Rating: G, Word Count: 451

Present— Rating: G, Word Count: 1.3k

Kisses Shared in Private— Rating: G, Word Count: 629, wlw

The Couch— Rating: G, Word Count: 1.6k

“I don’t know what to do” — Rating: T, Word Count: 382, wlw

Long Boys— Rating: T, Word Count: 1.1k

Waypost— Rating: G, Word Count: 1.6k, wlw

And for the more early days vibes please feel free to check out my 2009 tag and 2010 tag ✨

[watchyourbuck]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Tease Tidbit Tuesday °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @daffi-990 @lover-of-mine @callmenewbie @eowon @exhuastedpigeon thank you all! Will be reading your works tonight!💗

We’re back y’all! Finally, after two months of being in a dissociative state trying to graduate college, I’ve finally done it. Good news is I’m motivated; bad news is I still need to rest before throwing myself into writing. For now, have it half way!

I know I made a bullet point list of all the fics I was going to focus on, but the writer’s heart wants what it wants, so I have unfortunately come up with a new idea. It’s kinda Christmassy, not entirely so. You’ll see. I do hope you enjoy it, as it’s not quite my usual cup of tea (while still remaining buddie).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

He had to force himself not to drink it all in one go. Yes, he had a high tolerance threshold, but that didn’t mean he had to tempt fate every chance he got. He stared at the glass for a while, then sipped carefully, like a child drinking hot coco. “What troubles you this evening?” The words made him jump in surprise. He turned to his right in one motion, focusing on the stranger sitting on the stool right next to his. “Holy-,” he exclaimed. “You scared me, man.” Buck frowned. The stools were far enough apart for it to be plausible to have missed him, but he vividly remembered sitting on an empty row. Had he sat down while Buck had been looking around the place? “I assure you it wasn’t my intention to startle you,” the man replied, his voice serious and surprisingly grave. It felt as though he was whispering in his ear, but he hadn’t even turned to look at him yet. “But you don’t wear your emotions well.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

tagging in return @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @housewifebuck @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @cowboy-eddie @911-on-abc @butraura @hoodie-buck @honestlyeddie @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @fionaswhvre & @theotherbuckley and anyone else who’d like to participate!✨

[nympippi]

In honor of summer break officially starting here’s some gentan eating some watermelons!!

This was actually so hard for me to draw because drawing hands is actually so hard oml. But I hope y’all enjoy my redraw from 2020 :D

[ssreeder]

Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), others to be tagged later - Relationship Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Jet (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Kyoshi Warriors (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Jee (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), A bunch of OCs, Long Feng, Joo Dee (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Ty Lee (Avatar), Ozai (Avatar), General Fong (Avatar) Additional Tags: Violence, Blood and Injury, War, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Major Character Injury, Amputation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, possible major character death, themes similar to the first two books, Sexism, Racism (like has already been written in first two books), dark themes, Human Trafficking, Slavery, Just a lot of dark war-like themes, there will be a battle, Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Injury Recovery, Healing, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Animal Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings each chapter, Hopefully some healing for Zuko finally, no promises, but that’s the goal, Reunions, hopefully a happy ending, Sokka gets some healing too, Non-Consensual Drug Use Series: Part 3 of Leaving It All Behind Summary:

-This is the last book of the series LIAB, please go read the other two books before this, or you will be very confused-

Zuko has been taken by the Earth Kingdom army to who-knows-where, and Sokka is determined to get him back.

But he can’t do it alone.

With Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors by his side, Sokka is headed to Ba Sing Se to find Katara and Aang so they can go rescue his fire bender.

Things aren’t as easy as he had hoped. Corruption, lies, and unknown horrors await them inside the city’s walls. None of this is helping Sokka’s mental well-being.

Hakoda and his men face a problem of their own as Azula approaches with the intentions of making it rain fire.

Sokka and Zuko will both find themselves having to reintegrate back into a life they thought they left behind, with people they hardly remember. It isn’t easy for anyone, especially when they don’t recognize the person standing in front of them.

[babyxenomorph]

[notanorigami]

Chapter 688

Surnames

Damao: “Nick, are these two packages yours?”

Nick: “Oh, that’s the stuff I bought online. I sent it straight to your guy’s place so Lynn could cook everyone spicy stir-fried seafood~”

Damao: “Why are the names of these two packages different? One is Nick Holt, the other is Nick Hoult?

(Nick): “Both of these are my names, of course. In order to talk about them, I’ll have to start from my childhood.”

“After my dad left me and my mom, my mom wanted to cut all ties with him. She took everything related to my dad and threw them away.”

(Nick): “Even my last name, Hoult, wasn’t an exception to this. But I wasn’t willing to give it up because this was a connection only me and my dad shared.

"However, I also didn't want my mom to be upset…”

Nick: “So I got rid of my last name and changed it from Hoult to Holt. It’s read the same way, but the spelling is different.

So, what do you guys think?~ Aren’t I smart?~”

Ira: “It hurts! It hurts too much! This kind of childhood memory!.”

Damao: “Nope, I can’t breathe.”

Uses/Benefits/Utility

Nick: “Aren’t you guys reacting too much…”

Ira: “Wuwuwu... Nick…I want to apologize for looking down on you before.”

Damao: “You are such a good kid!”

Nick: “A name is just an alias. It doesn’t matter if I’m Holt or Hoult, I’m still me.”

(Ira or Damao): “Well said!”

Nick: “Besides, sometimes it’s beneficial to have two names.”

Ira: “Like when?”

(Nick): “Like when dodging exes.”

Nick’s Ex: “H-O-U-L-T, Hoult! Are you sure there isn’t one?! He definitely lives in this apartment!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry madam, but our system doesn’t list such a person!”

[magentakat]

Welp. I’m struggling with my writing currently (for a variety of reasons) but want to post at least a little something and get the brain juices flowing again—sooooooooo DCA promptober I do! (Likely won’t write for every prompt but I had fun with this one so I’ll likely do at least a few of ‘em. :])

These will be mostly from the various AUs/stories I am currently working on just to clarify (like this one!). Also not going to edit them really so weird wording and whatnot are to be expected. I’ll also be posting these all over on AO3 for those who prefer reading there instead.

That said, enjoy!

Day 1: Best Friend—580 words

“You seem malcontent…”

The night guard halts their patrol, visibly fighting to restrain themself from further reacting to the unsolicited comment or the giggling that follows it. Regaining their composure they resume their stroll, ignoring the gangly figure on their metaphorical tail. It’ll only get worse if they entertain the low-ball attempts at humor and teases.

“Hmm? No, you’re right, delivered that maladroitly,” the animatronic pretends to muse, his chin tapping audible to the figure below him, “maltreated that sentence.” He pauses, dramatically sniffing (as if he could even smell) in before announcing with a faux-disgusted air, “eugh, definitely malodorous.”

That finally elicits the reaction the mischievous robot has been digging for. “No, Moon.” They tilt their head back, staring above at the twin pinpricks of red light spinning in delight. “Rude. Stop being such a damn menace while I’m trying to work.”

“Aww,” He coos, overly saccharine, “you feeling maligned?”

His unwilling audience groans, flopping forward theatrically as they fight back the grin attempting to break free. “You are really stretching for ‘em tonight, are you that bored?”

“Maaaaaaaybe,” Moon draws out the word, chuckling audible beneath. The tortured guard draws upright as he touches down, landing lightly upon the floor next to them. “Only one more, I promise.”

They pretend to think on it, hemming and hawing despite both parties knowing what their answer will be. “Alright, I guess I’ll allow it—but after that no more, it’s getting old.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, taking their outstretched pinky in his much larger one, “so grumpy.” They watch as his face rotates once, then twice, pausing upside down before, with a click and a mischievous giggle, it slowly twists back into its typical orientation. “You ready?”

The guard nods, motioning the lunar-themed animatronic to come closer as they continue to maintain as straight of a face as they can. Moon obliges, hunching over so as to be closer to their level as he leans in conspiratorially. “…Mallard.”

“Pff—” The laughter they’d been holding back tumbles out, clutching at their stomach while the other watches in obvious glee. “Mallard? Mallard? Of all the ridiculous words you could have used you use a duck?”

They swear his permanent grin widens. “It worked,” he teases, lithe frame swaying with the force of his delight.

They answer with an eye roll, pretending to be annoyed, “I guess. Still don’t know why my name amuses you this much, but whatever.”

“Won’t tell me what it’s short for—have to try options until I find it.”

“It’s not mallard, as funny as that is,” they answer, turning away towards the center of the open atrium, “you’ll just have to keep trying—tomorrow.”

“Alright, little bat,” he concurs, oversized hand near-engulfing their head as he pats them patronizingly, ruffling their hair with a snicker as they attempt to push him away in protest. “Worse than Rumpelstiltskin,” the animatronic jokingly gripes as he ascends towards the ceiling, no doubt retreating back to the shadows before the lights catch him out again.

Mal’s smile remains even after he departs, happily humming as they resume their rounds in earnest. They wonder, not for the first time, if he’s already aware that there’s nothing else to their name—and then, how long he’ll continue the ruse after he finds out. Their friend isn’t the type to give up on a perfectly good bit, after all, even when he perhaps should. ‘Maltreated that sentence’ was absolutely too far of a stretch.