#it even makes bee noises which i adore

[roaringheat]

The beekeeper Sigma skin was fuckin MADE for me

[snipersfucker]

An apology, but we all want to read how they are inside and possibly the Autobots lose control when what they have been imagining for so long happens (like Mirage / Bee / or Optimus) you made us addicted to you writing

there are special little places where yall can get help with your addiction!! im not the remedy!! (i bite the walls every single time i get a compliment) ALSO lets just pretend bees vocal cords werent ripped out to the point he couldn't moan like a slut :) dubcon:/

Bee was desperate.

The way your hips swayed when you walked, the way the soft tone of your voice echoed in the insides of his helm, the way you'd wrap your fragile fingers around his steering wheel and squeeze it ever so slightly in a playful manner—he needed you.

And one day, after spending countless nights on imagining you stretched out on his throbbing spike, your tits bouncing with every slap of his hips against your bare ass, he finally got the honour of actually seeing you underneath him, not just picturing it in his mind.

Bee was desperate for you, but he was also shy. Which meant that you had to initiate all the talks, all the touches, and all the kisses. However, when he finally understood that he had you exactly where he wanted you, and when he heard you vocalise your desire for him, he just couldn't stop himself.

The soft exchange of pecks on each others' lips turned into a heated make-out session, his glossa quickly asking for permission to slip into your mouth just so he could get a proper taste for the first time. His metal body began overheating as soon as he felt your body straddling his lap, your legs on both side of his hips. Your bold move made him only crave more of your touch, him barely able to restrain himself from just having his way with you, manhandling you until you'd beg for him to stop absolutely ruining you for the pleasure of you both.

And he wanted to continue making a mess with his lips on yours, especially when you were making so many sweet noises just for him... But he had to take things further, feeling like his spark might just explode if he didn't.

So he pulled away slowly, making eye contact with you for just a mere second, only to see the needy expression on your face, which gave him a silent permission to jump right into what he'd planned to do. His lips quickly found their place on the side of your neck, his servos landing on your hips, subconsciously pushing your core into his abdomen to create more friction between you.

He began licking, kissing, nibbling, and sucking the skin gently into his intake to create pretty bruises on your neck which would show anyone that you belonged to him.

Your breaths were getting heavier, much more chaotic, them hitching in your throat every time he paid special attention to a particularly sensitive spot. Your needy whimpers were mixing with the sound of his vents trying to stop him from overheating, his reaction to you making you want more of him than you already had.

And you didn't know you already had him whole. He was yours.

"Bee, please..." you whined, your eyes closed shut, hands on both of his shoulders with a strong grip which he didn't mind at all.

Your words made him transform the area under his abdomen, now a hard spike on full display, its length slapping against your stomach with every intense throb. He didn't stop taking care of your neck for even a second, every whimper and groan of desperation being muffled by your skin as he continuously planted wet kisses all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

He was growing impatient.

His spike touching you was sending constant pleasurable electric shocks down his bipedalism cord, his spark nearly exploding when you grinded against it with your clothed core.

The grip of his digits on your hips tightened, and you'd probably have endless bruises on your sweet, soft skin tomorrow, and this thought should've made him feel at least a tad bad but he adored knowing that he left something while doing such sinful things with you.

When you moved and brushed against his length again, he groaned in impatience, pulling away just to lift the hem of your loose shirt with his digit to signal to you that he needed it off. You made eye contact with him as you got rid of the piece of clothing on your upper half. But it wasn't enough for him—he had to have you naked against him, every inch of your warm, human skin against his hot, metal one.

Before his digit moved to the waistline of your pants, you were already unbuttoning and unzipping them, getting out of his lap just to be able to take them off fully alongside with your panties, them ending up somewhere on the floor, probably next to your shirt.

His optics immediately shot to your cunt, the temptation to put his spike inside you overwhelming his body. He didn't even wait patiently for you to get back onto his lap on your own, as soon as he stopped devouring the sight of you in front of him in just a bra, he immediately pulled you towards him with both servos on your hips again, placing you on his lap, exactly where you belonged at that moment.

Now your bare core was brushing against his spike, and he couldn't refrain himself from letting a couple of desperate noises roll off him glossa. You decided to undress fully for him, taking your bra off and tossing it onto the pile of long forgotten clothes. His optics could barely take in the view before his lips found themselves on your tits, his intake giving attention to both, switching from teasing, licking and kissing the left one to doing exactly the same to the right one. Your hardened nipples made it possible for him to gently bite them, making you buckle your hips and moan his name shamelessly, your own noises not allowing you to hear your thoughts, as if there was anything else on your mind other than how good Bee's glossa felt when it curled up on your nipple, it getting sucked into his intake.

The remains of self-control he could find within himself were slipping through his digits, the force of his touches increasing with every passing second. At the same time, he was also getting more and more intense reactions from you, your body craving more as it pressed against his.

Bee groaned, impatience getting the better of him, as he wrapped his arm around your fragile, human body, lifting you up with your chest still to his.

He moved fast like a starving man, placing you gently on the hard floor of the garage, its coldness radiating to your body, adding a completely new sensation. You arched your back, exposing your chest even more to him, hoping he'd put his mouth on your already swollen and sensitive nipples, but he seemed to have other plans when, without a heads-up, he grabbed the back of both your thighs, and lifted up your hips so that now the only body parts of yours making contact with the cement underneath you were your upper back and your head.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip to stop yourself from whimpering at the absolutely sinful sight of Bee kneeling down and hovering over you, spreading your legs and holding them pressed to your chest for better access to your dripping cunt.

You felt the tip of his spike teasing your hole which has been clenching over nothing for the past couple of minutes, finally about to get what it needed the most. And then, with one swift motion, Bee slid into you, the wet sound of his length entering your core echoed against the walls of your head.

A loud moan escaped the depths of your throat, lips parted, eyes closed themselves shut before you could even stop them, wanting to watch as the robot began trying to bottom out inside your warm cunt, but unfortunately his spike was too big for you to take for now.

It felt good. The pain from being so suddenly stretched out around him mixed with the pleasure from his spike hitting all the sweet spots inside you with the very first thrust of his hips.

Bee felt as if he no longer had control over his own body, the feeling of you wrapped around him, your warm cunt so inviting to just ruin it without second thoughts. And he could find absolutely no strength within himself to stop the almost animalistic desire to make you his in every meaning of this word.

His optics were trained on your face for mere seconds before his gaze shifted to the place where your bodies connected, your cunt covered in your own slick, the hole visibly stretched out to take his spike, even if it was only a half of his full length.

The idea of pushing the entire thing in only made him groan, the images of the bulge in your lower stomach he'd create flashing in front of his optics.

He threw his head back when he felt you clench around him, the sensation too much to handle.

You knew he was about to begin pounding into you as if it was the only thing he was made to do, the expression on his face and the look he was giving you the entire time confirming it.

"Bee..." you whined his name, not being fully aware what that sweet tone of your voice was doing to him.

So he just positioned himself better, pressing your thighs harder to your chest, taking almost the entire length of his spike out of your begging cunt, only to slam into you and put even more of him inside you.

You couldn't even control the noises escaping you anymore, your head thrown back because of the overwhelming pleasure.

Bee has had enough of waiting, the memory of him sitting in the corner of this garage, his spike in his servo as he kept fisting himself, overloading onto the hard floor multiple times just to get some relief after having to watch you walk around in your damned little dresses, your hips innocently swaying, your tits deliciously bouncing with every step.

Before you could register it, the robot was destroying your needy cunt with aggressive pounding, feeling as if he able to put more and more inches inside you with every slam of his hips against your ass.

His speed and the way he could hit all the best spots, even though the tip of his spike was kissing your cervix, made you constantly moan out loud, as if the walls of the garage were soundproof.

He kept making noises as well, although his were much deeper, more frustrated, as if he was chasing something he was so closed to catch but right before getting it, it'd just slip away from him.

He thought of this moment for a long time, the pink transfluid painting his servos on many occasions as he was imagining you in this exact position underneath him, squirming in pleasure.

But then, he came up with an even better idea, his body immediately following through, without even analysing it. He stopped mercilessly pounding into you just to manhandle you on your stomach, lifting your backside by your hips, spreading your legs to allow him to penetrate your needy cunt even more deeply. He positioned himself over you, his spike yet again pressing against your core for just a second before finally entering you once more. He didn't even waste time on preparing you to take him, just like the first time he pushed his length inside your pussy.

Now he had the opportunity to properly grope and slap your ass as much as he pleased, his hips constantly hitting it with every hard thrust he'd make. Tears began forming in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being so perfectly stuffed by his spike making you shudder, moan and squirm beneath him.

His movements were rapid and chaotic, but he never slowed down, only increasing his speed, making mental notes of the noises you were making while he was fucking you so good.

"Bee, 't hurts..." you whimpered weakly in-between your loud, slutty moans, him taking it as an encouragement to continue ruining your cunt which was now clenching around him more than ever before. His one servo went to the back of your head tilted to the side, his digits gently stroking your hair as if it was supposed to help ease the pain mixing with pleasure, while the other one was still on your hip, pulling your body towards him at the same time he was pushing at it, making your skins hit each other with even more force.

You told him it hurt you but he couldn't stop.

He felt himself getting closer and closer to overloading, the warmth of your cunt getting sweetly unbearable as his movements became more sloppy, yet still as hard as before.

"Fuck." Curses kept spilling from your sinful mouth, feeling his thick spike throb inside you, indicating that he was probably about to finish.

The discomfort and pain of his metal hips hitting your much softer backside were slowly becoming less and less noticeable as complete pleasure washed over you, making you a wet, moaning mess underneath him.

With his two servos on your hips, he increased the speed of his movements once more, chasing the so desired release.

"Bee, please..." you whined again, your tits bouncing with every thrust, your hardened nipples brushing against the rough floor, "Overload in me..."

Your words were enough to tip him over the edge. With only a few more harsh slams into your tight cunt, he felt himself spurting his thick transfluid into your cervix, multiple groans and whimpers leaving his intake as he did so. He kept fucking the pink liquid into your cunt, not wanting a single drop to escape.

You could still feel his hard, metal hips hitting your ass, all until you clenched around him so tightly, he swore he could overload again just from that sensation alone. You came all over his thick spike, moaning loudly, your body shaking with indescribable pleasure from both his rough pounding as well as the knowledge that his transfluid was deep inside you.

Bee didn't pull out instantly, his thrusts decreasing in speed and force with every passing second, trying to ride out the remains of his and yours overloads.

You were panting and the robot was most definitely overheating, his metal body much hotter in touch than ever before, now his chassis pressed against your back as he began planting gentle kisses to your hair, his vents not being able to catch up.

After a long time that didn't feel long enough for him, he decided to pull away and take his spike out of your core filled with his transfluid, practically begging him to just fuck it again. But now, that his lust for you was somehow taken care of, he could regain the control over his body, and allow you to rest after getting absolutely ruined by him.

You rolled over onto your back yourself, clenching your thighs together when you felt his pink juices flooding out of you, wanting to keep them there for as long as possible. He smiled at your attempts to keep him inside you, the desire growing in his optics once again.

Bee gently wrapped his servos around your bare, exhausted body, lifting you up to place you down on the sofa he was previously occupying with you in his lap. As soon as you felt the plush against the skin of your back, you pulled the robot in your direction with your hands on both sides of his helm, making him bend his body so that you could kiss him passionately for the last time that night, knowing that he was most likely about to leave you to take care of his Autobot duties. He obliged without complaining, ready to slide into you again right then and there. And how disappointed he was when you pulled away with a soft smile, exhaustion finally catching up to you...

The corner of his slips curled up as he looked around in search for something to put on you. An abandoned blanket sitting on a wooden chair since he could remember would do. Before you could even notice he left you alone on the sofa, he was back, covering you from the neck down quickly but still making sure your whole body was under the soft fabric.

"Prime needs you?" you asked in a weak tone, your voice now only confirming how tired you actually were.

Prime needed him but he needed you.

Bee only nodded, to which you responded softly, "I'll stay here." And before he could even give you any sort of a physical confirmation that he got that, you already closed your eyes with a content expression written all over your face.

He smirked to himself, the sweet feeling of finally achieving his goal washing over him, him practically having been able to live in his dreams for a moment. His smile only widened when he came to a realisation...

He finally managed to mark you as his.

don't know if i made it he-lost-control enough but i tried and that's what counts in my books. also, i made it an oneshot but if you wanted separate hcs for these characters ill be more than willing to write it

[tempestuous-tempest]

Romancing Hobart Brown: (Headcanons)

Hobart "Hobie" Brown. Some Punk-Rock anarchist who plays guitar and likes to play as the vigilante of sorts "Spider-Punk". He's soooo cool. How did you even manage to snag him? Well, that's a good question. One I'm not answering.

Responds to "Hobie", "Hobes", "Hobe", "Bee", and "Bee-bee".

Gets home from doing a job or playing with the band and most of the time just wants to chill out, maybe smoke a joint, and cuddle you.

It's a 50:50 chance that he'll fall asleep. Which he can do just about anywhere and you will be trapped until either he wakes up and decides to let go or you wake him up.

On the subject of sleeping, he likes to spread out and will take up the entire bed, including your side. And while you're trying to push him over to his side he'll either A; whine and complain if he's semi-awake, or B; Pretend to be asleep still and refuse to "wake up and move".

Continuing once more with this sleeping theme, he is a light sleeper and will wake up to even the slightest noise or touch so it's kind of difficult to escape his grasp when you shift and wake him up and he tightens his grip on you. How do you deal with this?

Turns out Bee-bee over here is very ticklish and will always move away and/or let go when you tickle him.

Physical affection is his thing. Especially the small things like a hand on the shoulder or instead of holding hands, you two have your index fingers locked together. He likes having you close and knowing you're there with him.

Lets you borrow his clothes, especially to wear out and it drives him nuts to be able to see how adorable you look in his clothes. And if you're small and his shirts or jackets are just the right amount of too big, this man will have the biggest grin on his face.

Let's you play with his hair and even sometimes style it differently, however it's mostly a rare treat for if you were absolutely sad and he wanted to cheer you up. Other times you will have to beg on your hands and knees while saying "pretty please with sugar on top" and giving him puppy dog eyes. And just maybe, he will give in. Maybe.

Expect teasing until you feel like your heart wll explode. He's very playful and likes to see you get all flustered by his words alone. Well, technically, he'll probably have that trademark smirk on his face or even a sly grin which also contributes in it's own way.

Sometimes, he'll hand-make you something out of random parts he "found" as a gift. They aren't always perfect but they mean a lot to you and him.

This is it for this list, might make a part two. I'm also open for asks about how else I perceive him romantically or otherwise.

[toournextadventure]

l'appel du vide

a/n: this request was phenomenal, and I had the best time ever with it, so good luck pals

Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: violence, blood mention, swearing, Wednesday feeling Emotions Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

You shouldn’t have done it. You knew you shouldn’t have done it. Wednesday had told you time and time again to not do it. So why had you? What part of your tiny brain had told you to get in the way when you knew it would get you hurt or killed? She had warned you of Crackstone's power and how your wily wit and charm wouldn’t get you anywhere with him. 

And yet you went ahead and did it anyway. You half-wolfed out and punched and caught his attention. Wednesday knew you wouldn't stand a chance, and you didn't when he tossed you through the fire. It gave Wednesday the perfect opportunity to stab him through his black heart. That should have been the end of it.

Then Thornhill came by with a gun of all things and you just had to step in front of it before that horrifying *bang* echoed through the quad. What did you think you were doing? Not once had Wednesday ever asked you to do anything like that for her, she had even done her best to push you away. But now you were singed and bleeding out on the ground and-

-oh. Oh you were dying. You were bleeding out in the quad and Wednesday was just standing there. Her feet had rooted themselves into the concrete as she heard your wet gasps, saw the tears fall from your eyes, watched you claw at the ground because you were drowning in your own blood and she couldn't fucking move.

A single whimper escaped your lips, and Wednesday could hear it even through the crackling fire and rubble falling from the torn up quad. She could hear it even through the buzzing of Eugene’s bees and the pitiful sounds coming from Thornhill a few feet away. She could hear it louder than her own voice as she told Eugene to leave.

Her feet felt trapped by lead as she still stood there, looking down at you and watching crimson blood - which she usually adored - fall from the corner of your mouth. Your blood left a stain on your skin and why didn’t Wednesday think it was beautiful? It should have been. She had never cowered away from blood before, but seeing yours flow so freely? It made her sick.

Bianca got to you before Wednesday could even remind her body to breathe. She got to you first and pressed her hands against your abdomen so hard; did she not care if you hurt? The noise you let out would haunt Wednesday for the rest of her life. But Wednesday could just stand there and watch as your blood continued to flow around Bianca’s fingers. Did it make her feel unclean? Tainted? Would she ever be able to completely scrub your blood off of her skin and feel okay again?

“Addams.”

That was Bianca’s voice, she knew that much. It didn’t change the fact that there was something wrong with Wednesday. Never in her life had she ever shied away from blood and destruction and death. She had enjoyed taking down Crackstone, had gotten a thrill out of stabbing the blade into his black heart. But your blood, and your death? It was… it was terrifying.

“Wednesday, get down here.”

A siren song. It was a low blow, but a very small part at the back of Wednesday’s brain was relieved. A siren song took all decisions away to stay rooted to the spot and just watch you die. You were dying. Wednesday fell to her knees on the other side of you. The flagstone dug into her knees, ripping her skirt and splitting her skin, leaving her warm from the blood; yours or hers, she couldn’t differentiate.

“Can you put pressure on this?” Bianca asked. Her voice sounded muffled, watery, far away. Wednesday gave a singular nod, not daring to take her eyes off of your pained expression. “I’ll go get help.”

For what was probably the first time in Wednesday’s life, she hesitated. She hesitated because what would your slick, bloody body feel like under her fingers? What would she do if she touched you and found you dead? Death was supposed to bring her comfort, not dread, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to try everything in her power to save you.

It took her too long to lock her fingers and put her hands on your abdomen. The moment she touched the blood - your blood - she nearly ripped them away and pulled them back to her own body. But she didn’t. It’s like science class, she thought as she tried to ignore how hard it was to keep her hands in one spot. Except it wasn’t like science, and you weren’t some frog who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You were someone she cared for, and you were dying, and each second felt more and more useless because now you were coughing up blood between your pathetic whimpers.

Wednesday felt something warm and wet on her cheeks and she hoped it was your blood and not her own tears because Wednesday Addams did not cry. Not for anyone, not for you even though the life draining from your body sent a prickling sensation behind her eyes and a tightness in her chest. She did not cry because it would mean that you meant something to her, and no one could never know she cared for you and wanted you to live.

Her heart froze in her chest when she felt your hand, slick and weak, rest on top of both of hers. It was a feeble attempt at pulling her hands away and she didn’t give in. But the gesture, the feel of your skin both cold from blood loss and hot from the blood itself, sent a new fear straight through her heart and down her spine. You were dying. You were dying and she couldn’t even say anything to comfort you.

“If you die before I admit I love you, I’ll never let your soul rest in peace.” It was a threat, and an empty one at that, but you were dying and you wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t die, not on her, not on anyone. She had pushed everyone else away but you weren’t supposed to actually leave. What happened to all those promises that you were with her forever? That nothing could come between you if you had any say in it?

“Promise me you won’t die.” The words felt like scalding ash in her mouth and boiling acid in her stomach. She didn’t even know why she had said it, it had just come out. An impossible promise for you to make let alone keep. But she needed you to make it anyway. “Please.”

You squeezed her hands, a pathetic attempt, but your silent words were heard loud and clear. You were dying, but you promised her you wouldn’t, so you would be okay. Wednesday trusted that you would be okay because you promised her you would be. And no one broke a promise to Wednesday Addams.

She was so focused on you, on the shortening of your breaths, of the nearly indiscernible movement of your chest that she didn’t see anyone approaching. A pair of hands wrapped around her waist and tried to pull her back, and the adrenaline shot through her veins. They couldn’t take her away from you, not when she was holding your life in her hands, not when you had promised not to die.

“Wednesday, let them take her.” Enid? What was she doing there? Couldn’t she see you were dying? Couldn’t she see how serious this was, that this was no time to be pulling away?

But Wednesday fell back into Enid and watched through a haze as they - she couldn’t see who “they” were - took over, lifting you and carrying you and taking you away from her. Why would they take you away from her? Why would they take you where she couldn’t follow? Didn’t they know she needed you? She needed you like a fish needed water, like a heart needed blood, she needed you.

Wednesday Addams needed you, and just the admittance of that fact finally broke her and she let Enid hold her as those hot salty tears finally fell down her cheeks.

"It'll take time, but she'll recover." The doctors had promised a full recovery. That was really all Wednesday could have ever asked for, more than she could have asked for. They were making sure you kept your promise that you wouldn’t die, you wouldn’t leave her there. She sat at your bedside and watched over you like the grim reaper, except she was there to keep you alive.

“I love you too.” Your voice was scratchy and painful sounding and weak, so very weak after so long without talking. Wednesday’s eyes shot up and she met yours, bloodshot and hazy and drug-filled. But they were open, and they were looking right at her even if only partly. Wednesday didn’t say anything, she just reached out and grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

She was thankful when your eyes closed again because then you couldn’t see the silent tears falling from her eyes.

[gaybananabread]

•• @/Anon For the TT prompts, how about Lee!Miguel and any ler for day 5 or Ler!Peter B. with any lee for day 24? ••

TickleTober Day 24 - Joke

~This is the second half of a request for day 5. Not sure if the Anon will see it, but I still had fun writing this! Hobie’s little quips towards Peter were so casual and fun; I think they deserve more little moments together. If you’re seeing this, thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Hobie Brown

Ler: Peter B. Parker (& special guest appearance by Mayday)

Summary: Peter is in an extra corny mood, telling all of his best (worst) dad jokes. Hobie refuses to acknowledge anything funny about them, staying stubborn. With a little help from his daughter, Peter quickly finds a method to get him to appreciate the jokes.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“Okay, okay, how about this one?” Peter chuckled, bouncing his little girl in his arms. Hobie was hanging out with the two that morning, and the father had decided to unload his favorite dad jokes to pass the time.

“I just read a few facts about frogs,” Peter grinned, giving the line a few seconds to sink in. “They were ribbeting!”

Hobie giggled through a groan, running both hands down his face. That was, like, the thirtieth dad joke he’d told within the past ten minutes. One man can only take so many horrible puns and cringe-worthy jokes.

“I’ll pay you ta stop.” The punk peeked out from behind his hand, seeing the goofy grin on his friend’s face. Peter was a great guy, especially when Hobie just wanted someone easy to talk to and chill with. Plus, Mayday was adorable.

The jokes, however, were killing him.

“They’re good! Mayday likes my jokes, don’tcha, sweetheart?” Peter held his daughter out in front of him, making her giggle and kick in the air. “See? She gets it.”

“She’s yer kid. She’s gotta ge’ it.” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Peter’s reasoning. He doubted the toddler understood the concept of jokes just yet, but it was still a cute thought. “Lil’ bit pro’lly don’t even get the point o’ jokes.”

“Hey! Every Parker gets jokes!” Peter huffed indignantly, hugging his daughter to his chest. The girl squealed as she was slightly squished, wriggling in her father’s arms. “Watch this. Mayday, what do you get when you cross a bee with a sheep?”

The girl stuck her tongue out at him, studying his face. She was trying to figure out what he was saying, paying about as much attention as a child of her age could.

“A baa-humbug!” Peter made an obnoxious baa-ing sheep noise at the beginning of his punchline, making the toddler squeal in amusement. It was a good trick, Hobie had to admit.

“Aw, c’mon! She jus’ liked the sheep noise!” Hobie rolled his eyes once again, tossing his hands up in protest. The joke was so corny; it made it hard to laugh when all he wanted to do was cringe.

“You are such a downer!” Shaking his head, Peter hoisted Mayday onto his shoulders. He glared at Hobie, nudging Mayday’s little arm until she copied him. It was – unfortunately for Hobie’s resolve – utterly adorable.

“Cram it, ol’ man.” The punk turned away, crossing his arms as he hid a fond smile. He adored Mayday more than he’d like to admit, and Peter was a funny, sweet guy to hang around. Even if he did hurt Hobie’s brain sometimes.

“I’m not that old yet!” Peter’s shoulders jumped up with his protest, his daughter snickering at the feeling. “Oh, hush, you little scamp.” He scratched a finger down one of her tiny soles, making the girl kick and squeal. She tugged at his hair to keep her balance, which he was used to by then.

Actually…he might’ve found a way to show Hobie just how funny his jokes really were.

While the teen's back was still turned, Peter fired a shot of web at him. Hobie's spider sense buzzed a second to late, not really counting Peter's silliness as a threat. The thread hit him square in the back, yanking him towards Peter.

Hobie’s back hit the man’s chest, two strong arms quickly wrapping around him. It was a little awkward with the height difference, but Peter made it work. While Hobie may have had height on his side, Peter was stronger.

“Lemme go, ya geezer!” Hobie twisted and thrashed in Peter’s grip, but he couldn’t fight with his full strength; Mayday was still on the man’s shoulders. He didn’t want to risk accidentally hurting her.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Peter’s smug voice grated against Hobie’s nerves as he tried to pry the man’s hands off. "Why was the stadium so hot after the game?"

“I don’ care!” Hobie stomped his feet, trying to drown Peter out. Unfortunately, the man could just say it right in his ear.

“Nope! Because all the fans left! Eh, eh?”

Instead of waiting for Hobie’s inevitably underwhelmed reaction, Peter dug his finger’s into the punk’s hips, making him snort into a burst of loud, scraggly laughter.

“GAHAHAHAHA! FUHUHU- *snort* PEHETER!” Hobie tried to fold in on himself, but he was stopped by the man’s strong grip around his chest. He was trapped in a tickly hug with no viable ways out.

“Language! You know better than to curse around Mayday.” Peter shook his head before drilling his thumbs into the little pocket above Hobie’s hip bones, pulling a shriek from the lanky teen.

Mayday seemed thoroughly amused by all the chaos, climbing over her dad’s shoulders to reach for Hobie. She nuzzled her tiny head against his neck, her wily curls softly tickling behind his ears and across his neck. Hobie tried scrunching his shoulders up, only causing the girl to giggle and press closer.

“GEHEHE’ YOUHUHUR DEHEHEVIL- *snort* OHOFFA MEHEHEHE!” Hobie tossed his head around as carefully as he could, trying his hardest not to hit the girl on his shoulder. It was incredibly unfair, using her as a shield like he was. The teen had to admit that he was a bit impressed.

“Devil?! My little girl is an angel, thank you very much!” Gasping dramatically, Peter spidered his fingers up to Hobie’s sides and ribs. While the boisterous laughter was quite nice, he didn’t want to exhaust the teen entirely.

“I-Ihi dohohon’ wahanna ahaccidentahally huhurt heher!” Hobie’s cackles died down to pitchy giggles and laughs, his voice about an octave higher than normal. He made a good point, but the man still needed Mayday to keep him from fighting.

“You wouldn’t hurt her. I’d trust you with Mayday’s life if I had to. It’ll be fine.” Peter disguised a tease under the compliment, clawing his way up and down the punk’s sides. He really was enjoying himself; seeing the kids laugh was always fun.

“Y-youhuhu- GYAH! Youhu neehehehek!” Hobie nearly cursed, but Peter censored him with a quick scribble to the navel.

“Being mean in British is still being mean, Hobie.” Peter chastised him, tutting as Mayday went right back to snuggling her fuzzy head against his neck. Now that his reactions were calmer, the little squeaks and voice cracks came through perfectly.

“B-Brihitish ahain’t a lahahanguage!” Hobie’s shoulders scrunched once again, giving Mayday a little boost. She giggled from the movement, patting her small hands against his rosy cheek. It was adorable, making it near impossible for him to be irritated at her.

“So nitpicky. First, you criticize my jokes, and now you’re correcting me? For shame, Hobart, for shame.” The dad gave Hobie’s hips one more good squeeze, mainly trying to distract him from the fact that he’d just said the boy’s full first name. That usually got some not-so-nice words in response; he wasn’t looking to teach Mayday anything else that MJ would scold him about.

While the punk usually could’ve held on for much longer, his cheeks were getting sore, and he could feel Mayday slip a little with every big laugh and squeak. He knew Peter would never let her even come close to hitting the ground if she fell, but the teen was anxious nonetheless. He knew what he had to do…

Enjoy the ego boost, Parker.

“F-fihihihine! Youhuhuhur johohokes ‘re fuhuhunny!” Hobie finally conceded, trying to bring his squirming down to a minimum. He’d get his revenge later, no doubt, but peace was his only option for the time being.

“There ya go, kid!” He gave Hobie one last squeeze of a hug before pulling back, taking his daughter with him. Mayday whined at the break in contact, reaching out for the giggly punk.

“J-jehehez, ruthless ol’ bum…” Hobie muttered the words under his breath, meaning absolutely nothing by them. It wasn’t uncommon for him to exchange loving insults with his older friends and mentors.

The teen recovered pretty quickly, taking the squirmy toddler into his arms when he was able to breathe normally. She immediately cuddled into his chest, demanding snuggly affection that no being with a heart could deny.

“Yer lucky she’s ‘ere, or you’d be in tears.” Hobie calmly laid the threat out, slowly swaying to make Mayday smile. He loved the little rascal’s grin, especially the cute little gap between her front two teeth. While he didn’t seem the type, he really did love kids.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Peter huffed, knowing all too well how true that statement was. One thing that was always interesting about Hobie: he was willing to dish out whatever he received, and vice versa. It made for playfully fun slow days at the Society.

“It’s almost her nap time. Wanna help me put her down, maybe grab something from the cafeteria? I’ll pay,” Peter offered, gently nudging the boy’s shoulder with his own.

Hobie was quite peckish after all the goofy activity, and making Peter pay for things would be a step in the vengeance direction…

“Al’ight, yeah. Let’s go, gramps.” Cradling the sleepy little girl against his chest, Hobie started for the lobby. Peter rolled his eyes before catching up, reminding himself to steal some of the teen’s fries in retaliation.

Maybe he could even have busted out some of his worst burger puns, though they might’ve been too cheesy.

[mangochii]

"Telling The Bees"

Holm Kranom x Beekeeper!Reader

Tgs: Domestic fluff, bees, slight talk of insecurities, metaphors, reader's race is not mentioned, and more bees

In which Holm tells the reader to just bee yourself 🐝

-----------------

My wife is a beekeeper.

Soft and gentle were her hands as she combed through the thicket of my hair, her pretty smiles filled my heart like the jars of honey she stores in our kitchen cabinets.

"Holm." She called to me, her voice dripped with sweet golden ichor. "What do you want on your birthday?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, the apples of my face painted crimson as the corners of my lips turned upwards. "My birthday just passed but a few weeks ago, my dear."

I brushed stray strands of hair from her face, I see her brows furrowed ever so slightly. Her eyes squinting as she continued to stare at me, lips formed a pout.

"Everyday can be a birthday. "

"Nope, my mother didn't give birth to me everyday. That just doesn't make sense."

"You don't make sense."

I shook my head with a smile, a chuckle spilled out of my lips as I see her hands on her hip, huffing playfully. "You just want an excuse to spend money on me, don't you?"

She's an odd one.

When we first started seeing each other, she showed me her bee farm. She made me wear those tacky beekeeping suits in mid-summer, it was made from soft cotton, she claimed it was tailor made for my size— so who am I to distrust her judgement? I'm no expert after all.

"I have someone I'd like you to meet." She called to them, the bees, her voice gentle and motherly. Her whispers were as calming as white noise in a cafe, quiet as the air in the library. Her hand, bare, ungloved, held them so carefully— as if reaching out to touch a noble's fine silken robe.

"I found a lover, he's a gnome and his name is Holm Kranom." She breathed, her eyes squinting as she smiled so brightly. "He's a sweet cleric, and brews the nicest tea ever."

I didn't have the heart to question her silly antics.

It's was around late October when I proposed to her. Her little gasps and bounce was adorable, and it still was. She held my wrists and lead me once more to her farm, her smile was as pretty as the sunrise.

She gleamed as she held up her engagement ring, the band of silver wrapped her delicate fingers, with gem shimmered against the afternoon sun.

"I'm engaged!" Her smile truly rivaled the biggest stars in the sky. I'd even dare say it puts any star to shame.

Her bees merely buzzed about, seemingly ignoring their keeper's excited rambling. Though, a few landed curiously at her fingertips for a bit before flying away.

I found it cute, so I dare not question her about it.

And so my mind returned to the present, I watched her by the window as she gave her bees the leftover carrot cake we had on my birthday weeks back. I'm surprised it's still edible for the bees...

She stayed in her farm a lot longer than usual, hushedly singing to them every single milestone and every single woe she had felt and done.

"Why do you do that?" I finally had the courage to ask, she walked into our kitchen, jars of honey carefully placed carefully on each cabinet.

"Do what?" She scratched her cheek, and her head tilted slightly, before turning around to grab lemons— around 11 I think?

"Talking to the bees; you talk to your bees like they're your little diary." I watched as she began to cut each lemon in half, my lips turned upwards seeing her struggle with the knife.

"Oh, that!" She chuckled, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. "They're not my diary." Her voice low, contemplative. As if wondering if I'd understand her.

"They're wholly intertwined with my life, that they feel as if they're a part of my family. Our family." She squeezed each lemon with much vigor, I shook my head with a small smile. I stood up, taking the pathetically squeezed lemon from her hands, and did it myself.

"5 of each?"

"5 and a half." I want to flick that pout of hers with how much she does it nowadays, but I could only smile and nod as I kissed her hands. The scent of lemon zest coated her fingertips, it's bitterness staining my lips and tongue.

"Did your father do this as well?" I asked as softly as I could, "Talking to the bees, I mean." I grabbed the strainer, as she was lazy enough to grab it from our kitchen drawers. I'm still appalled at how she'd strain it with her bare hand, not that it's disgusting or anything— she's very thorough with her hand washing, it's simply not something I'm used to. Especially knowing there's a strainer here, though she does have a point that it's less dishes to clean.

Ever the practical woman.

"Yeah," Her voice broke me out of my little tangent, my eyes flickered to her as she spoke. "It's just something my family had always done, for good omen, and I just hoped our family would follow the same tradition still."

She embraced my culture's ways, from refraining from eating meat, to going as far as wearing gnomish clothing. Not even I do that. She listens with great interest, takes note of everything I say. "What is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine." She often says, while she reached out for my hand, rubbing the golden band wrapped around my ring finger. "We are married, therefore our lives are intertwined."

"We will." Was all I said, giving her the cups of the lemon that I just squeezed. A soft smile drawn on my face as she added the honey on the juice, carefully measuring both cups before adding the water.

"I'm weird, aren't I?" Her nimble fingers stirred the cup, eyes flickering to me and the drink. "The wife that you married doesn't like frilly dresses, books, and make up."

She heaved each breath like she was thrown in the white beds of winter, "The wife who'd spend her time talking to bees than with people." Each word that dripped from her precious lips felt like viscous tar, thick and heavy.

For how long had those heavy thoughts plagued your mind?

"I'm—"

"No." I spoke, carefully taking the spoon and cups from her. "Not another word, my love." I leaned my body slightly against hers, stirring the next cup of lemonade.

"I know who I married." I whispered, slowly stopping my stirring, tapping the cup with the spoon with a little tak, tak.

"As long you're happy with what you do," I took an experimental sip of the drink, its sour taste blended so perfectly with the honey, almost masking it.

I gave the other cup to her, "It will be enough. You're enough." Crystalline jewels widened ever so slightly, glossy and damp. She smiled, and my god. I could never get enough of it.

Even as the tears flowed freely down her face, leaving footprints on her skin, she's beautiful. I set my cup down, my hands reached her dampened eyes.

I'll catch every woeful dew that dare fall upon your pretty face, let me be the basin of your rain. I'll catch every drop and drink it all away.

For a typhoon to weaken, it must make landfall. "Lay your burdens on me, my love." I whispered through a lullaby, a calming tune. A simple heartbeat. Lub-dub, Lub-dub.

I felt her hands hover hesitantly on my back, the typhoon has reached its landfall.

"What is yours is mine,"

Let your woes dissipate.

"What is mine is yours."

It was near fall, the world colored itself in orange and reds, with plantlife and animals prepared themselves for another arduous winter.

"I have someone you'd definitely want to meet." She spoke with such glee, as she turned to me her eyes squinting, hands waved and beckoned me to come, while I carried this little bundle of joy in my arms.

"I had a child," She whispered, knocking on the beehive once. A buzzing resounded from within, as if indicating acknowledgement.

A good omen, perhaps?

"They're just a few days old, and a real hungry fella. Me and Holm could barely sleep because of them, they poop a lot too. It's disgusting, tiring, but they're mine. And we love them."

The little one yawned, and shifted in my arms. Their lips puckered and smacked against one another, head leaning unto my chest. "Our precious bundle here might be getting hungry again, honey."

"Eh? I just fed them!"

~

"Telling the bees" , as this tradition was known, is a practice that calls for the beekeeper to tell their hives of significant life events. Its origins may have been from Celtic Mythology, where the presence of a bee signified the soul leaving the body.

But the tradition itself had been prominent in the eighteenth and nineteenth century in the U.S. and Western Europe. The consequences of not telling the bees can be dire, from the bees falling ill, ceased production of honey up to the death of entire colonies. These events, led to strengthening of the belief that a keeper and a bee's life are wholly intertwined.

[pastelpaperplanes]

So what are Papillon and Firstwatch's first impressions of Bee when they meet him for the first time. And what about in relation to Blitzwings love for him? You drew that whole thing about approval pending and I was just wondering if you could elaborate on that.

In reference to this post!

First impressions go a little like “An AUTOBOT? Really??” (predictable) to “...he is very small. How does he care for you?” (to which Bee is left SPUTTERING–even though it is a question insinuating a lack of ability to protect Blitz…ahemahem How does he cover Blitz’s back if he can’t even reach it?Hello??)

Firstwatch is wondering why this “Bumblebee” chooses to run his mouth so much. So many WORDS from such a small bot. So much noise. How does he make a good fighter if he cannot shut his mouth? (Jokes on you, old man, that motor mouth is a winning card)

Papillon can see the charm, but what does he bring to the table to provide and protect his boy? Certainly not claws, teeth, strength, eons of active battle experience (omg ouch Papillon slow DOWN) incredibly advanced weaponry, nor rank. Charm is great, fun even—but a solid relationship necessitates equal footing. “Is your Beebot ready for what it means to defend a lover in wartime?” (omfg. It’s BUMBLEBEE, Pap)

Any reservations that they may have about Bumblebee are quickly turned to assurances when they see how they make their boy come alive.

Bee can seem to flawlessly brighten up his stoicism, match and energize his enthusiasm, and appreciate and encourage his shamelessly loud passion. And hey, those alter egos all ADORE this small Autobot, so its three against two is this were up for a vote. So HA.

Physical prowess and battle expertise are not the sole defining traits of a defender or provider. Bee may not have fit even remotely what they thought would be their Boy’s pick, but he makes him happy–hell, he loves every single bit of him to pieces and brings out the sides of Blitz his parents have never seen so animated until now. Bee brings out the best in Blitzwing and that is what matters.

And also, just you wait, In-Laws. Bee is the strongest fucking buzz ball of untouchable energy on the battleground. He can and will whip you whether it be with anything like his weaponized smart mouth, stingers, or signature Kneecap Karate Chop. Kapeesh?

[hearted-anon]

Members need rest? Chan knows best!

Words: 4.4k Lee(s): Skz Ler: Channie

Chan laid back after the cruel hours of idol work, feeling his bones turn to mush under the comfortable mattress. The fans had been swarming him like bees to honey the entire day, and don’t get him wrong, he loves stays as much as the next member, but it was tiring to deal with it continuously. A soft smile grazed his face tiredly, finally slipping away into dreamland after what felt like an eternity of staring at the ceiling who glared back at him, courtesy of insomnia.

Then he heard it.

Loud screams of excitement rang through the halls like a fire alarm, making his ears ring. Apparently although the leader was more than done with all the shenanigans he had been through for the day, his members weren’t, having more than enough energy to spare. He closed one eye temporarily, hoping the members would get the hint when the oldest didn’t exit to join in. Alas, they were clueless, only making the noise grow in volume as what sounded like Hyunjin and Changbin arguing rang throughout the halls.

Slamming open his room door, he glared daggers at all 7 kids, who stopped right in their tracks at the long pang of the wood slamming against the wall. The daggers were a cold sting to their heart, making the kids cower into a corner with fear as the oldest grew closer. He sighed, he didn’t want to instil fear into his children whenever he was upset, it hurt to see them on the verge of tears as if he was going to tear them apart limb by limb.

And that’s when he thought of it.

“10 seconds, go hide.” He whispers without context, relieved when the members slowly come undone from their bundle, which he thought was adorable, maybe he would scare them more often. They all looked up at him in confusion, eyes glistening with what he didn’t know were tears or happiness that they weren’t going to die, making his heart melt when he found himself being looked up upon by 7 curious puppies. However, all fun comes to an end, he was meant to punish them after all. He didn’t respond, only counting down slowly, either way it made the kids shriek and run to hide, even if they had no idea what was going on.

If they couldn’t sleep when needed, Chan would ensure they were tired enough.

Trekking along the halls, he hummed a soft tune that echoed eerily throughout the halls, a warning call to the hiding children. He smirked, all of his exhaustion replaced by the desperate need to find all of his children, by hook or by crook. The first kid he found was of course his first child, hiding under Chan’s own bed. A scream of surprise ensued before Jisung was pulled from under the bed by his feet, a very tickle hungry leader looming over him.

The quokka babbled and pleaded for mercy, silenced in an instant when Chan pressed his lips right onto his ribs, blowing as hard as he could as his fingers travelled into his armpits quickly, kneading and massaging the middle. Han absolutely lost it, cackling and shrieking as he tried to squirm away to no avail with the oldest sitting comfortably on his waist.

“ARGH! HYUHUHAHAHA! I’M SOHOHOHOR- EEK!” Jisung tried his best to beg, but a squeal of agony left his mouth when Chris decided on nibbling onto his ribs too, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh between the bones before vibrating his teeth gently there, sending the younger to see stars. He stomped his feet onto the floor desperately, begging for release as tears of mirth streamed down his face, decorating his chubby cheeks.

“Learned your lesson? Now go to bed.” Chan strictly told him, though it wasn’t as intimidating with that wide smile, admiring his kid that panted and wiped at his tears. Jisung nodded enthusiastically, not wanting to experience another round of that torture, it was absolutely ruthless. He didn’t know his hyung was that rough, retreating back to his room, feeling bad for the other members.

1 kid down, 6 more to go.

“Where are my kids hm? I promise I won’t be too harsh if you come out now…” He feigned innocence, singing his words. He turned his head, facing the cat den that was Minho’s room. Usually anyone entering that den was prohibited, even Chan himself, who got quite the harsh scolding from the younger when the older was caught snooping in his room. But he knew he was hiding there, using his kitty privileges to his advantage. He barged in, and lo and behold there he was, resting comfortably on his bed as if Bangchan wouldn’t know of his safe haven.

“W-What are you doing here?! You c-can’t just- AH!” Minho’s scolding which was merely a ploy to hide his anxiousness, not really hidden with the stuttering he was doing. The older simply lunged at the cat without hesitation, letting out sweet Aussie giggles as he wrestled the bunny down. It wasn’t that much of a fight, seeing how he was the second strongest in Stray Kids, easily pinning those arms high above his head, seated nicely on his plump thighs.

“You were saying, cutie?” Chan giggled lowly when the bunny’s face burned a bright red at the name call, Lee Know would never get used to those compliments no matter how many times the older one did it. He kicked under Chris’s hold, trying to lodge himself out of the weight placed off of him. All was well until Minho felt fingers drum onto his lower belly, the fabric of his tank top doing absolutely nothing to protect him.

“Nah ah~ You had so much energy to wake me up right? I’ll tire you out just fine.” The oldest tutted before sinking his fingers right into the younger’s v-line, kneading all too close to his hips and thighs. A piercing shriek left his mouth before he descended into witch-like cackles, his hands weakly pulling at the fingers that invaded his waistline, even with his shirt it felt like they were vibrating right onto his weak spot.

“ARGH! HYUHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THERE! PLEA- NOO!” Another shriek left him when he felt hair brush along his ear before teeth sunk into his neck, nibbling along the pudgy skin that gathered under his ear. Stamping his feet he begged and squealed for mercy, slamming down his chin to his collarbone to block out the head, hands tugging at the fingers that wouldn’t stop kneading his skin, it was all futile. Until tears were soaking his shirt collar, which didn’t take long, he was released from his prison. Minho panted and gasped for air on the bed, curling up into himself. Chan didn’t even have to tell him to sleep, the younger’s eyes closing and promptly falling asleep.

2 kids down, 5 more to go.

Quietly creaking the door shut to the cat’s den, he snuck around the rooms, eyes eventually landing onto his soulmate, none other than his Aussie bro, hiding snugly in a cupboard. Rushing over, he pulled the chick out, more concerned at the weird angle the blonde was in, back following the curve of the cupboard, creeping him out. He held Felix high in the air with his hands under Lix’s underarms to hold him there, inspecting for injuries. The younger sighed, hoping he had forgotten all about the punishment. What a fool he was.

Once ensuring the chick wasn’t injured, Chan gave him a disappointed and knowing look. The sunshine had a terrible habit of doing anything that he could to win or hide, sometimes it was quite the danger. Too bad for Felix, it just added onto the list of reasons on why he should be punished. The sunshine looked genuinely upset at that look, frowning as he slumped under the leader’s arms, whispering a sorry under his breath.

“You’ll definitely be sorry.” Before the sunshine could retort a question of confusion, he felt a mushroom of hair slip under his shirt, lips attaching to the top of his abs, settling on one of the packs near the ribs before blowing harshly. He shrieked, falling into loud, squeaky hysterics as his feet wiggled fruitlessly under the older. He couldn’t move anywhere besides twisting and turning to the side, which only made the sensations worse. Oh how Felix majorly regretted waking Chan up, he was pinned high in the air unless he could pull himself up, which was not possible with the tight grip that held his waist high up.

“PLEHEHHEASE! NOHOAHAHA!” Felix howled with laughter when it in fact didn’t stop, the older’s lips delicately brushing along the younger’s abs before blowing on each pack harshly, before he was face to face with his navel. The sunshine could feel the warm breath that blew into it, making him giggle nervously as he looked down to plead for mercy.

“W-Wahahait! I-I’m sohohory! I wohohon’t do it ahahagain- NO HYUNG!” Felix collapsed when Chan began to nibble along the rim of his belly button, shaking his head both in denial to stop and to rub his fluffy hair along the victim’s tummy, making him squeal. Felix went limp in Chris’s hold, unable to push at his head, only kicking his feet out and shaking his own head as he begged for it to stop. His throat grew hoarse, vision blurring up with tears as he saw the light itself.

Maybe he actually did, because the next thing he knew he felt himself being laid down, seeing his own dreams within seconds. He wondered if he had passed out, only realising that he had fallen asleep the moment Chan had stopped, and was cradled and tucked into bed without another word. He smiled softly, maybe the leader wasn’t as ruthless as he thought, continuing his sweet dreams calmly.

That was 3 kids down, 4 more to go…

Not long after the leader had gone chicken hunting, he immediately found a chick’s predator, a fox. The fox hibernated peacefully under blankets and pillows, making Chan squeal like a school girl at the adoring sight. His heart melted with cupid’s arrow pierced through it, approaching the youngest quietly not to disturb him. As much as he favourites the maknae line, he was hungry for tickles, and he was going to get them all like Pokemon.

“Baby? Are you awake?” A soft whisper coaxed the youngest out of his slumber, yawning that made Chan want to kick his feet absolutely everywhere while giggling. Jeongin nodded slowly, still dazed from being woken up from his slumber. Hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him into a tight cuddle under the sheets. They laid in silence for a good while, Chan almost forgetting what he was here for having the cutie in his arms.

Almost.

“Are the scars on your face still there?” Chan murmured softly into Jeongin’s ear, seemingly out of the blue. They both shuddered at the memory, but swallowing his nerves he could feel the nod in the darkness of his room. And then came a sniffle. Chris squeezed the other’s waist tighter, consoling his insecurities that welled up deep in his heart. He needed to comfort him, and needed it now he did.

So why not kill two birds with one stone?

Chan gently pressed his lips to the skin of the younger’s scars, trailing his lips softly over the rough skin. He smiled when he got a soft squeak and sweet giggles in return, his hands that once laid protectively over his waist holding his hands down, ensuring there was nothing to hide that smile.

“Hyung! W-Whahaha!” Jeongin’s words were cut off with another squeak when fingers traced delicate shapes and hearts into his sides and tummy, along with the persistent loving kisses that rained down onto his scars. His cheeks soon turned a bright red, flustered out of his mind that his gentle loving did wonders to himself, not wanting to admit it. There came no response, only a soft hum that vibrated in ticklish motions along his skin, before continuing his chaste kissing all over his scars.

“Plehehease it tickles so bahahad!” He squeaked out meekly, squealing sharply when teeth nibbled and lips kissed along the back of his ear, close to his neck. Not many people knew, but the members more than often took advantage of that sensitive patch of skin, whenever they did so much as go close to that spot, shoulders automatically scrunched up to protect himself. He fell into high pitched cackling, trying to turn around to no avail with Chan’s hands tight around his torso that bonded his arms together.

“HYUAHAHHA! NOHOHO!” He kicked out beneath the tight cuddles, shaking his head when he realised any attempt to leave was completely futile, left to suffer as so under the hands of the leader. Chris simply cooed, whispering compliments through nibbles and kisses that made Jeongin feel like his face was on fire. Only when he felt Jeongin go limp eventually was he released, cuddled properly to sleep before the oldest slipped away, like a shadow in the night’s sky.

That was 4 kids down, 3 to go.

Sneaking away into the puppy’s enclosure now, he scrambled and turned the room upside down, eager to find Seungmin. His search was fruitless, no signs of any puppy baby being in the room. Or so he thought, when he found the child’s legs peeking out from what he initially thought were a normal bundle of clothes. They didn’t move, nor breathe at first, leading Chan to think he might’ve had a hard time breathing in there, instantly activating his dad instincts.

Grabbing the puppy’s feet, he dragged him out, seeing a red faced Seungmin. Well at least he was right to think he struggled breathing, letting Seungmin catch his breath calmly as he waited. He wasn’t a monster, despite his ruthless attacks he didn’t want to go overboard after all, only seeking to tire his babies out. Once done, he securely headlocked the younger’s feet high in the air, a panicking Seungmin on the floor as he tried to sit up to get his feet back to no avail.

“D-Don’t! If you do, you're old!” Seungmin threatened with a hiss, though Chan knew behind those walls his heart was tugged down by embarrassment and anticipation, and boy was he going to take that to his advantage.

“Still wanna talk back like this hm?” Chan hummed, his fingers descending on one of the willing soles to trace gently along it, under his toes, to his arch then his heel, and repeating. The puppy screeched and giggled like a maniac, not hysterically but it felt so ticklish, so so ticklish with all the anticipation that welled inside his heart. He was lying if he said he didn’t deserve this, but it was torture!

“I-I’m sohohory! Plehehehase dohohon’t tease mehehe!” Seungmin pleaded desperately, unable to take the soft scratching up and down his soles for any longer. It drove him just as crazy as normal tickling, though he would’ve much rather had that than whatever torture method this was.

“You wanna be tickled? Okay!” Chan bubbled enthusiastically, before his manicured nails went haywire onto his bare feet, scratching along any surface of the soft skin he could find. Seungmin shrieked as loudly as he could before descending like those fingers into hysterics, tugging at his feet as his hand pounded into the floor. With the added anticipation along with those nails that felt horrible, he was driven ballistic, it took less than a minute before tears streamed down his face.

“I-IT’S SOHOHO BAHAHAD! PLEHEAHAHAHA! HYUHUHUNG!” He thrashed, tried to kick, arched his back but nothing released himself from the head lock on his feet, begging for mercy that was granted once he saw that Seungmin looked on the verge of passing out, sweat falling down his forehead like it was the most intense workout he’s ever had. Chan smiled sweetly in contrast to the torture he’s putting his children to, kissing away the tears on the puppy’s cheeks before carrying him like a bag of rice, plopping him down and promptly tucking him in.

“Sleep, or else.” Chan’s tone was strict, dripping was threats as his fingers wiggled towards Seungmin one last time, eliciting a squeal before he went out to let him sleep.

That was 5 kids to go, now the last 2 whom he planned the most for…

He pondered where the loud duo could be, steps of his feet drumming against the wooden floors that creaked sullenly when he walked. He entered the art room, a quiet wave of serenity washing over him the moment his feet touched the marble floor. It was silent here, a barricade keeping out the noises that crashed Hyunjin’s focus whenever he tried to make art sealed shut, letting his hands dance over canvases when his feet weren’t on the floor.

Smiling softly at the peace of the room, he snapped his head at the sound of pencils drawing smoothly onto the canvas. Was Hyunjin seriously drawing? A pang of guilt shot through his heart, he’d hate to ruin the ferret’s drawing with his want to punish him, he loved their passion in their respective hobbies, enjoying admiring them in their field of strength more than anything.

Which is why he set up a trap.

Holding a paintbrush in his hands, he tapped gently onto the wall, and almost in an instant a pair of ferret ears peeked from the wall, crawling over and inspecting Chan, as if a cat finding something interesting. The older chuckled softly, letting the analysis happen without a worry, he looked very much adorable this way anyway. Eventually the older got bored, scooping the artist up without a word and planting him onto the bed of the room, where Hyunjin mostly slept when he stayed up late at night.

“You argued quite loudly with Changbin, and now you act like you don’t deserve punishment?” Chan scolded, but the smile he wore was much less intimidating. Grabbing his wrists he pinned them high, high above his head, stretching out his shirt to reveal his tummy entirely. The younger visibly panicked, babbling pleas of apologies as he watched the paint brush he was so curious about draw closer to his tummy. Shaking his head, he was begging on his knees, or lying down, for this not to happen.

“Since you were drawing, how about I draw for you?” With that, Chan attached his lips to Hyunjin’s stomach, blowing long and torturous raspberries all over. Hyunjin shrieked, his sensitivity hitting new peaks as he stomped and cackled.

“ARGH AHAHAHAH! I CAHAHAHN’T TAHAHAHKE IT!” Hyunjin squealed out desperately, trying to pull his arms down from being held like ropes up to head, unable to do anything but thrash like a fish out of water. Chan grumbled when screeches filled the air, maybe he should’ve just ended it at Jeongin. But no matter, there wouldn’t be anymore screeching soon enough.

Lifting his lips from the tortured tummy, Hyunjin panted and gasped for air, pleading for mercy as he pulled at his arms, putting out his lower lip to make him look all the more miserable. Unfortunately, the judge did not rule in his favour, as right then he felt the paintbrush dip into his navel, painting delicate strokes that made him shriek before cackling like a maniac, digging his heels into the bed.

“OHOHO MY GAHAHAHD! MAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAP!” He cried out, going absolutely crazy as if he had lost his wits, much to Chan’s fun. He enjoyed seeing the drama queen being himself, wanting and craving more laughter for his ensemble of a punishment. He knew that the ferret would tap out soon, but those flushed cheeks and crinkled eyes made it hard to resist.

“One last finale…” Chan stuck his lips onto Hyunjin’s side, blowing as hard as he could. A scream loud enough to wake up the entire dorm rang out before it turned pin drop silent, Hyunjin silently begging for mercy as his throat turned hoarse and quiet. The older’s canvas was finished, letting him go as he watched the artist curl up into a ball, giggling away the tingles. He tucked Hyunjin into bed, being careful not to touch him as he twitched in agitated motions from how hard he was wrecked. Leaving the second last room, he ventured out, tickle hungry enough to say he was starving for his last victim.

6 kids down, now for the last one, he’d be saving the best for last.

Humming a soft tune, Chan spins around the halls gleefully, his mood to wreck his children increasing by the second. It put his nerves on end, sent his heart pounding and heightening his senses. He practically flipped the dorm upside down trying to find the last child of a rapper, nowhere to be found. Just as he heaved a sigh of frustration and stomped his feet with a pout, a squeal came from the chick’s coop, a squeal he knew anywhere else.

Bolting and barging right into the brownie boy’s room, he swung open the door faster than lightning, face to face with Minho’s babies, wrestling on the pillows. His eyes met Changbin’s in an instant, boring holes that went straight through the rapper’s soul, sending a chill down his spine. Believe me when I said he dashed out as fast as Chan came in, squealing for his life as a ravenous Chan chased him down.

Unfortunately, the dwaekki was caught almost as soon as he left, hoisted up into the air and slumped onto Chan’s shoulder as if he weighed air. As they trekked into Chan’s bedroom, Changbin squirmed and thrashed, trying to pull away the hands locked around his waist.

“You made me suffer. Through. All. That. Finding. You are so. So. Getting. It.” Chan emphasised his firm point, each full stop he made containing a poke somewhere on the younger’s body, from his ribs to his sides, then his back to his hips, it made Changbin squeal loudly with each poke. Thrown on the bed, the oldest took the sweater he originally intended to wear to sleep before he was disturbed, now tying Changbin’s hands above his head, making him whimper in fear.

“Since you made me go through all that finding, I’ll tell you exactly what I’m going to do to you. First, I’ll scratch these nails into your ribs, right into the crevices while whispering sweet compliments into your ear, not to mention blow wind into them. Then, I’ll knead your hips gently, not enough to make you hysterical but you’ll buck like a wild bull. To keep you down, I’ll nibble along that cute pudge of your tummy, I just bet it’ll be unbearable to you. But too bad, it won’t stop till I feel that I’ve had enough and don’t feel hungry. Aw~ You blushing?”

Chan cooed after meticulously plotting and spilling his actions that would be happening to the poor rapper underneath, whose face and ears were already on fire before anything even happened. He shook his head desperately, digging his heels into the bed as the cat fiddled with his tongue, unable to get words out. Anticipation was killing him, the thought of being told exactly what was doing and having the thought of cackling himself silly drove him up the wall. He shrieked when Chan merely placed his hands underneath his shirt, the warmth of his hands making him burst into sweet high pitched giggles, eyes crinkled shut with a dimpled smile.

“What a cutie~ Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re so giggly? Isn’t that just the sweetest…” The oldest might’ve been a tad bit sadistic for being so cruel, but he was hungry for that laughter, especially after all that searching.

“Pl-Plehehehease! I-I’m sohohohory!” Changbin meekly begged, unable to take the tendrils of anticipation that drove him crazy before any fingers or lips got the chance to wreck him silly, what an embarrassment.

“You want me to wreck you? Want me to wreck you badly?” Chan cooed sweetly with an innocent smile, masking away his sinister intentions as a squirmy Changbin only got redder in the face, nodding timidly. He smirked, he loved getting his way.

Diving his head under Bin’s sweatshirt, he did exactly what he set out to do, teeth settling onto the pudge of fat that lined his tummy before his v-line, going crazy with raspberries and nibbles onto it. His fingers drilled into his thighs, the inner section where the skin would clash the thighs together, switching between his nails scribbling up and down to squeezing it relentlessly.

To say Changbin went crazy was an understatement, a loud, shrill scream akin to Hyunjin’s left his mouth before he cackled himself insane, trying first to close his legs before they were open back up promptly, arching his back, but it only pressed that dreaded mouth against his bare skin more, forcing him to crash back down.

“ARGHAHAHAHAAH! YAHAHAHAA!” He couldn’t even get words out, only shaking his head as he tugged hard at the sweater, who suffered in agony from the sheer strength it was being tugged at, but didn’t relent to let his hands free. Chan chuckled slowly, mumbling against his pudge that made him squeal.

“Can’t even speak anymore Bin? How adorable.” Was all that left his mouth before he got busy on his tummy again, Changbin absolutely hated how his Hyungs knew exactly where to make him go ballistic, his fingers digging into his wrists in ticklish agony. His howling didn’t even make it to two minutes before it cut off, hoarsely but silently begging for mercy as tears streamed down his face like rivulets.

Chan let up, he wasn’t out to kill after all. Lifting himself out of Changbin’s shirt and untying him, he snuggled into Changbin’s hair, taking in the sweet scent of strawberries and kissing the top of his head sweetly. His hands did his usual routine of tracing those hearts into his cheeks, making the younger smile shyly through his greedy panting. They both fell asleep, both tired from hunting and being hunted.

At least now the members knew what was not to mess with now, especially at night when there was a tired chan in bed trying to sleep.

[pocket-raven]

AHH HELLO THE NEW EPISODE I CAN'T 😭😭 Like where do i even start?! (Spoliers ahead obviously the episode only been our for like an hour lol)

Not very important but the book stolas was reading at the start was called "prince of passion" I think? I wanna know what it's about lol

All the little bird noises stolas made in this ep was adorable

When Blitzo was doing his "apology tour" why didn't he see his sister? Like not even a glimpse of her? I feel like an apology to her would be important?

The fact that Martha and the Teacher from episode one where sleeping together is just- Yes i was cackling when i saw the teacher walking out in a towel

The party in general. That was a lot of people. There was hellhounds, imps, so many different walks off life. Blitzø gets around lol

Dennis. We met him in Series 1 episode 8, at Bees party. All Blitzø said was "I'm not fucking a Dennis tonight." And now the guy hates him enough to go to the party XD also everyone hates him? Poor guy

Stolas voice in the song was just perfection and Verosika and Tex backup singing- niiice. Song did vaguely remind me of like edgy 2000 rock love songs

Drunk stolas was adorable thats all i have to say. And the way he flopped on Blitzø was just- AH?!

Also, Stolas making sure no one saw Blitzø by pulling the table cloth over his head a bit more shows he still cared.

Versoika not telling everyone he was there too. She still cares really, but she let herself get to vulnerable. I don't know why but now i think Blitzø, at the time they were dating, was everything to her. But after it went wrong i think it tipped her over the edge (in springbreak when we first meet her he says he's surprised she's out of rehab, i feel like Blitzø is the reason she ended up here)

The guy that asked stolas to dance was kind of a dick, cause Blitzø and Stolas where in the middle of chatting but he interrupted it which is rude. But ehhh

Stolas looked so happy when he was dancing though. I feel like that's the happiest he's been in ages.

Blitzø is definitely starting to get genuine feelings for Stolas, the way he looked at Him, got jealous when the guy kissed him etc. It's slow but he's getting there..

BUT NOW WE HAVE TO WAIT TILL OCTOBER FOR THE NEXT EPISODE I'M PRETTY SURE 😭😭😭

[eldritch-spouse]

"Maybe Colmei. He likes your hair. It's nice and soft and it smells good. He already has a weird tendency to want to lick or chew it, putting it around his cock isn't too much of a stretch. Of he comes in it he's going to try to lick it clean, and it's going to be a huge mess overall."

WAIT when was this established?? I absolutely ADORE the thought of him just randomly chewing on your hair when you are talking to him, buzzing happily when you don't stop him, and you're hair ending up sticking up in all directions from his spit

Does that mean his bees will try to bundle in your hair?? Because that's even cuter!

Also not me thinking about giving him "hair time" in exchange for making him blow my back out (cue him adorably nibbling on your hair while your sprawled out and limp 😩)

It was established in that exact moment, because I felt like he would be fascinated with your hair.

It's not exactly a bright idea to let Colmei chew your hair. It'll eventually get damaged. Not just from his drool, but the chewing, which will break/twist strands and generally just ruin its health. You have to teach him that, even if you don't feel it, it's not good for you.

Colmei's hive will commonly settle on parts of your body whenever you're still for long enough, it's just in their nature to gravitate towards the Queen. While many of them will crawl around your head and hair, creating an honestly kind of disturbing sensation to someone who's not used to such- They've learned to avoid touching your ears or making noise too close to it, as a human's general instinct when hearing buzzing right next to their ear is to swat at it. And you've already accidentally slapped Colmei's colony members to the ground more than once. They won't try to genuinely live in your hair, at least.

The best thing you can do for Colmei is teach him how to style it. Because after stuffing your cunt, he's going to buzz like a small engine while he braids your hair.

[yourbestpalpercy]

“Applicant 10,038…do you really think you’ll be able to escape? I watched over your tests, I saw how you cheated. You may be smart in some regards but you could barely beat some tests that weren’t even intended to be hard! What makes you think you’ll be able to escape?” Commander Tartar’s voice bellowed over the loudspeaker as 38 ran through the various, terrible chambers. Tartar sounded like it was currently enjoying 38’s struggle. She had just barely managed to crawl her way past the Villi and Belly Phases. She was here now though…at the Intestinal Phase, able to take a moment and catch her poor breath at last.

Her heart was absolutely racing. 38 could barely, just barely catch her breath as she sat against the wall, hand on her heart. 38’s hands shook. She had been almost caught one too many times in the Coccyx phase and almost killed too many times in the Villi and Belly Phase but- but here she was. All she needed to do was get out of this phase and maybe, just maybe, the exit was on the other side. What was her plan for getting back to Octo Valley? Honestly, she didn’t know. Her mind buzzed like a million, angry bees in a jar right now. A jar that was constantly being shaken again and again every minute or two. Sh-She would figure it out though!

38 finally took aim at the button and shot at it, seeing the door open to- …lasers. So..so.. so many lasers. 38 felt her heart sink immediately down to her toes. The lasers weren’t moving but with how many little gaps and places to mess up there were, 38 immediately felt that there was no way she was getting out of this place.

The loudspeaker crackled overhead once more, making 38 realize that it had never been turned off. A new voice spoke as 38 went back to the old checkpoint to see just how many attempts she had to get past this phase, “Tartar, if I could pipe up with my own idea for a moment…” Tartar didn’t respond but 38 heard a shuffling; no doubt it was from him moving in his chair to look at the second voice, “I could try to hunt down Applicant 38, maybe? I’m fairly good at platforming and getting around I’d say.”

Another shuffle; Tartar probably moving to face the microphone again, “Everest, no, you cannot go through and hunt down Applicant 10,038, I will not allow it. You’re far too fragile for how dangerous my security system is. It would be impossible for you to even get to the Intestinal Phase with how little platforming experience you have considering you’ve only done about 12 out of the 80 tests there are. I can’t have you getting hurt or sanitized, Polar Bear. I’d know better than anyone just how easy it is to harm a precious human like you. That’s not to mention the new tests that are being added with a whole new plethora of new kinds of challenges,” The new voice apparently was either named Everest or Polar Bear.

Admittedly, 38 thought the first name was fairly pretty which, if 38 was thinking of the right person, was very fitting. Polar Bear, however, was very dopey and didn’t match the assumed human’s beauty whatsoever. 38 remembered fighting her in one of the tests and she knew enough about her to know that Everest was Commander Tartar’s little saint that they adored like a 12,005 Polémon DX Deloxys Gold Star Holo Rarequeazea card (a card 38 actually had at home by the way). 38 could only roll her eyes as Commander Tartar proceeded to continue to act like Everest was a little fragile butterfly over the loudspeaker for everyone in the facility to hear.

“...Tartar…” Everest groaned (38 could tell that Everest was rolling her eyes too), “The loudspeaker is still on. Everyone can hear you,” A sharp screech shot through the speakers, causing 38 to squeal and cover her ears as best as she could to keep the noise out. The noise was accompanied very shortly after by, “I AM!? UH-! Everyone in the facility- please ignore that-! Just get Applicant 10,038! Do not let them escape! Btw,” Oh my Zapfish, he unironically said btw out loud, 38 almost died of cringe on the spot, “I highly doubt that Applicant 10,038 will be making it past the Intestinal Phase so, 1,869 and Elite, please make your way down to the Intestinal Phase. Oh, and 7, you go too. Get ready to collect Applicant 10,038 when she inevitably fails…” Tartar’s voice became much crueler as it spoke the final word. The loudspeaker shut up quickly after and 38 sat there for an extra second, her body still shaking from the noise.

38 didn’t even realize that she was still standing on the checkpoint, revealing she had 5 attempts. When she did though, she looked up at the status above the checkpoint and saw the 5 attempts she had. You’d expect relief to fill her, that was exactly what she needed right now to get past this segment hopefully. …But instead, 38’s eyes locked onto one of her other statuses.

Slightly sanitized.

That…that didn’t make any sense! When- 38 shook her head. She couldn’t waste time being stressed about being possibly sanitized. The checkpoint had to be broken, time had clearly worn down the checkpoint after all. That status condition had to be the result of someone else who nearly escaped.

38 stared ahead at the lasers before her and aimed her splattershot, beginning to shoot out light blue ink to coat the ground before her and the ground on the other side of the lasers. She turned into her octopus form to regain ink before continuing to coat more ground on the other side of the lasers.

All it took was a small, reckless brush up…

38 respawned back at the checkpoint, the door closed once more. Her ink was still on the ground and her total attempt count had been brought down to 4. Her status now read ‘Partly Sanitized’. 38 grew worried and noticed that up to her wrists and ankles had gone from her mocha skin to sickly, pale, puss-colored green skin. 38 let a shudder run down her back before she charged the door again and opened it with a single shot of her blue ink.

38 let out a determined huff and turned back into her octopus form, swerving through the ink and ducking under the first laser grid without harm this time. Admittedly though, she was very tempted to jump over the bottom laser. 38 popped back out of the ink and turned back to the first laser grid. That bottom laser looked like it was jumpable…right?

38 stared at the laser for a long time before shaking her head and focusing on the second laser grid which was just a singular laser pressed rather close to the ground. She could still swim under that, right? …Right? 38 stared at the laser for a while, longer than the first laser grid, before she shot a large puddle of ink out of her splattershot, making sure that both sides were coated. Again, she swerved through the ink and attempted to dart right under the laser.

Pain shot through her pain for just a second before she respawned, yet again at the checkpoint with the door closed yet again. 38 felt a defeated feeling rising up in her chest before she let out a rough huff and shot the button with blue ink and opened it once more. 38 didn’t even bother checking her status this time. A status that ominously read ‘Moderately Sanitized’. 38 didn’t even notice how her arms and legs, up to her knees and elbows were now that same, pale green that her ankles and wrists were before. One of her eyes were partially red and the ends of her lighter blue tentacles were now a much more visible lime green which had already started to fade into deep blue. 38’s body felt colder now as well.

38 transformed back into her octopus form and jumped over the first laser grid. One of 38’s tentacles got too close to the laser for comfort, nearly causing her to respawn a third time. When the second laser grid came up, 38 jumped over it this time and swerved into the wall. ‘Ouch!’ was the only thought that 38 heard as she emerged from the ink, holding her head weakly in her hands.

Whoops-!

38 stumbled back and fell backwards onto the second laser.

…38’s grip on her splattershot tightened to the extreme as she let out a rough hiss of pure anger. She threw her splattershot to the ground and kicked it at the door. The scraping and the collision noise filled 38’s ears. She looked up at her status again, noticing this time just how cold her body felt along with how green her skin now was. There were only a few, flick traces of her mocha colored skin and her status now read ‘Mostly Sanitized���. 38’s anger was replaced with a dread-filled, heavy, sickly feeling that swiftly started creating a large pit in her stomach.

38 couldn’t afford having any dumb mistakes anymore. She did not want to be a part of Commander Tartar’s mind controlled army. She did not want to share her cousin, Karaage’s, fate (or, as he insisted on being called now, Elite). 38 swam through the ink and quickly picked up her splattershot once more. She shot another spray of blue ink at the button and completely locked in.

38 swam under the first laser with ease, trying to ignore her newly strange thoughts that asked why she was doing this and why she was trying to run from Denewiah (thoughts she attempted to silence with ‘I’m trying to help it with improving its security system’). She jumped over the second laser just as easily. She was much more careful this time. 38 didn’t swerve through the ink and she didn’t slam her head into the wall this time.

She emerged from the ink quickly and took a moment to catch her breath. Immediately after, 38 took aim with her splattershot once more and coated the ground ahead of her and after the third laser grid with more of her light blue ink. If she could just get past this, she could hopefully make it out of this hellhole and back to her parents to tell them that she found her cousin, Karaage.

38 took a calming breath, deeply worried. The thoughts about Commander Tartar still flooded her mind before she leapt through the third grid. For a moment there, she worried she wouldn’t make it. She- she did though! She might actually get through here!

38 fired at the wall, creating a line of ink she could swim up. She slipped through the grate…and immediately was filled with even more dread as she saw the next lasers. ‘There’s more of them!? Are you SQUIDDING me!?’ Her arms dropped to her sides before she groaned sharply…and then heard the door downstairs open up. ‘Crap, he’s here! I gotta hurry up! Wait, why? Commander Tartar is my boss- SHUT UP!’ 38 spotted another checkpoint right in front of her and eagerly activated it. Looking up, 38 found that her status condition still read ‘Mostly Sanitized’. …Guess she really was that close to being sanitized. Her attempt count didn’t go up one either, leaving her at 1 attempt left still.

38 frowned at the sight and looked back at the grate downstairs. Two sanitized octolings in their octopus forms were rapidly shooting through the hallway. AH! 38 sprayed another line of ink in front of her and swam directly in between the first 2 moving lasers, just as they closed, almost causing her final death in the process. Of course those octolings wouldn’t be affected by the lasers, they were already sanitized!

38 then saw the second pair of moving lasers, having almost charged right into them while trying to escape the sanitized octolings. This set was only one laser, moving up and down slowly. A movement that filled 38 with dread just as she heard, echoing from behind, “There she is!” 38 looked back and saw only one familiar face, Karaage.

38 scrambled to fire at the second one and managed to duck under the laser before it came down on her. Karaage wouldn’t let her splat him that easily though, the best 38 could do was keep running.

And believe me, she did. Right now was probably the most focused 38 had ever been! Karaage wasn’t too far behind and every time he got close, he would attempt to grab 38 only to miss as she ducked under his hand and managed to place a kick directly into his stomach. Karaage screamed and fell back into the sanitized laser and was shot backwards by the force of it as well. There. That should hold him for…eh, a few extra seconds. 38 spun back to the final grid of lasers for this part.

There were two, moving up and down rather quickly.

38 felt that large pit form in her stomach once more, a pit made worse by Karaage’s laugh, “You know you won’t be able to get past that! You should just give up! You might end up not being blended if you do,” Karaage pulled himself up off the ground, still nursing his head a little.

38 stared at Karaage. His words sunk into 38’s skin worse than ever. She now stared at her own self. Karaage…was right. 38 knew she couldn’t get past this final laser. A final octoling sprang up from the grate leading back to the first floor. It wasn’t that second octoling Tartar named. She looked different, having blue eyes instead of the red, evil ones that 38 had seen on every sanitized octoling so far.

Karaage met her eyes before turning back to look at the new octoling, “Oh! Finally! About damn time, 7. Clam it all! You’re so clam slow!” Karaage hissed at the new octoling. A death glare formed on Karaage’s face. 38 had never seen it before.

“I’m no slower than you, shuckface! I was just pulled into a conversation randomly, so sorry for not showing up until now!” The octoling flipped him the bird, with an expression of pure hatred twisted across her face, her eyes burning with rage.

38 felt a spike of worry run through her just as she swung back to the lasers-

Everything instantly went black and the last thing 38 felt was a sharp, burning feeling that contrasted with how cold she felt at the same time. 38 had been too close to the laser…

She only heard one last thing; Karaage. “Damn you, 7! I missed my dumbass cousin running into that laser!” He sounded like he was growing increasingly more frustrated.

***

…38’s coldness got worse and worse. She felt dead, very, very dead.

“Good job, Elite,” That was Commander Tartar…

“Ah, you know I could do it. I shoved her face into the laser myself! I watched as she became sanitized in my own hands! You should’ve been there! It was exhilarating!” Elite. 38 didn’t even know his face, how did she know his name?

“Elite, shut up, she FELL into the laser, you’re the one who got pushed into the laser. Stop making up meaningless bullshrip.” 7. How did she…? 38 didn’t even know 7 either, but yet… she knew her name…

“You shut up! You weren’t even paying attention! How would you know what happened!?” Elite screamed at 7 suddenly and Denewiah let out a rough sigh before shoving them apart, “Enough fighting with 7, Elite, and stop making up lies. Even if she did fall into the laser and you were the idiot to get shoved, I’m still congratulating you two for even getting her back to the infirmary. …2…uh, where’s 1,869?” Commander Tartar asked just as 38 opened her eyes. She felt dopey… “Oh, she’s awake faster than most. Interesting.”

38 lifted her head only to set it back down immediately and decided to just look from where she currently was. She was in a bright room and was lying in a bed. To her left was 7 and to her right, much farther away of course, was Elite who seemed amused by her even waking up. And, just in front of her, was the android she had somehow managed to outsmart.

Its eyes narrowed a little at the sight of 38, tucking its hands behind its back, “Applicant 10,038, can you tell me what 9 + 10 is?” 38 stared at Commander Tartar and carefully sat up in her bed, “Uhm…21?”

Denewiah groaned, “You’re stupid. Great. Exactly what I needed right now,” Commander Tartar rubbed his temples before spinning around and starting to leave the room, “Whatever, you can be a guard, can’t be too hard. 7, Elite, show our newest recruit around the Kamabo Labs please…”

Elite looked at 7 with a disapproving look again and once Commander Tartar was far enough away, he said, “Yeah no. I’m not being stuck with either of you again,” Elite crossed his arms before approaching 38, a smirk coming onto his face. 38 couldn’t hide the worry coming onto her own face.

“Welcome to Commander Denewiah Tartarus’s army, Nakji…”

[boba-at-323]

Lemonade Love

The sound of the birds chirping filled the mid-summer air, as you and your boyfriend Riki took a stroll around the nearly empty park. The sky was clear, painted a magnificent azure shade and the buzzing of the bees could be heard from all over the place as they continued to work hard, travelling from one flower to another. Everything was almost perfect – only if it weren’t for the heat.

“Why is it so hot today?” You questioned the boy next to you, fanning yourself using your hands as a weak effort to try to cool down the heat.

“A very good question Y/N,” Riki’s words were laced with sarcasm, after all he was just a sassy boy.

You rolled your eyes at his response, causing him to laugh at your reaction. Teasing you was a hobby of his, something he found very amusing.

“I don't know, maybe it's the summer heat wave,” Riki finally replied, chuckling as he tried to brush away his sweat.

You both continued to walk, finally coming to a stop near a tree when you thought it was time to catch your breath for a while. As you sat down on the grass, you saw your boyfriend looking for something in the bag pack which he always carried whenever you hung out.

As you looked at him puzzled, he suddenly pulled out two small, black ice coolers from inside the bag.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed, flashing you his adorable boxy smile, “I brought some ice-cold lemonade for the both of us. I figured it would get hot, so I came prepared.”

“You’re a lifesaver, babe.” You smiled in relief, feeling grateful for your sweet and caring boyfriend.

He handed you one of the coolers, and you both drank the refreshing lemonade, savouring the sweet and tangy flavour. The cold drink was a perfect remedy for the scorching heat.

As you finished the lemonade, you leaned in to peck Riki’s cheek, which caught him off-guard, “Love you.”

“Ew” he made a face, pretending to dislike your action. It was you let out an amused chuckle this time. Seeing you giggle made him smile, and soon, he started laughing along with you.

“Love you too, or whatever.” He continued to make a gagging noise, making you laugh even more.

Title : Lemonade Love || Word count: 382 || Genre: Fluff, some crack || Pairing: bf!Niki x Implied Fem!Reader

Tagging : @armysantiny @koishua @riikiblr and what if i tag rain too @blonghoonie

[boombox-fuckboy]

Actually while I'm still a bird blog (literally just for today) here's some other birds I'm fond of/think would be GREAT in Skyjacks:

Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys)

Tiny, adjustable eyebrows, fan tail, fantastically acrobatic fliers. Two kinds of noises: angry shouting and beautiful singing. Diet is primarily insects but they have been known to eat carrion of far larger animals. Not afraid of humans. Made mostly of audacity: will often attack much larger birds including magpies, ravens and occasionally even osprey (sea eagles) or wedge-tailed eagles.

Currawong (Strepera sp.)

Three species of absolute clown disguised as dapper goths. Very clever and capable of bastardry: wild populations have been documented unzipping bags to get at the contents. All round omnivore. Social. Soup dragon noises.

Rainbow bee-eater (Merops ornatus)

Rainbow, eats bees (and other insects, but especially bees). Migratory, can fly far distances for a little bird. Makes and then nests in underground burrows. Very social. Makes delightful prrt noises and exhibits some very cute huddling behaviour.

Red-tailed black cockatoo (Calyptorhynchus banksii)

Large, loud and social. Shy with humans but not absent from urban and suburban areas. Dangerous if you happen to be a delicious seed pod, or item that looks fun to chew on. Capable of high flying, rarely comes down to the ground (mostly hangs out in trees). A herald of coming rains, according to old farmer's tales. Brains. Incredible aesthetic really.

Splendid fairywren (Malurus splendens)

This tiny man is in fact more blue in person, (juvenile and female individuals being brown with a splash of blue on the tail). He flirts by offering flower petals and fancy flying. He's also a good dad. Always moving, fast takeoff and strong flight (but only in short bursts). Like all adorable round birds, very territorial.

New Holland honeyeater (Phylidonyris novaehollandiae)

Small, social bird with dignified sideburns who subsists primarily off of sugar (with a side of insects and arachnids). Mobile, talkative, and known to gang up on larger birds, such as wattlebirds (below). Nimble fliers, but tend to navigate a flowering bush from the inside. Looks like an electric type pokémon.

Superb fruit dove (Ptilinopus superbus)

Medium-small pigeon with an absolutely unrealistic colour palette (yet impressively camouflaged). Indeed superb. Also a dove that eats fruit. Not great at building nests. Migratory or nomadic but sneaky about it: possibly at night, as they (unfortunately) occasionally collide with lighthouses.

Pacific baza (Aviceda subcristata)

Looks as though a wizard has turned a cuckoo into a bird of prey in a futile attempt to teach it the meaning of hard work. In fact a medium sized, crested hawk. An omnivore: hunts everything from insects to reptiles to smaller birds, but also actively eats fruit. Rumoured to be able to mimic frog-calls, which coaxes the frogs to respond in turn. Pretty chill and, like many other hawks, social. Documented aerial somersaulter. Also not the greatest at nest building.

Red wattlebird (Anthochaera carunculata)

Not the prettiest, but interesting to watch. Large honeyeater and one of the few birds I am convinced has retained awareness of being a dinosaur. Loud about it, either with a gutteral cluck or lovely singing. Glides as much as flies, though they are perfectly capable of it. A decent climber, nimble. Will throw it's weight around with both smaller and larger birds. Unclear if it entirely understands it's place in the food chain.

Southern boobook (Ninox boobook)

A small, compact, cute and otherwise plain owl, but with very striking eyeliner. Does well in suburban areas. Named for the distinct noise it makes, though is (as most owls are) a totally silent flier. Feeds mostly on insects and small mammals but is also capable of catching bats.

[17-noodlebird]

The Magical Digital Van

And here we have the main mode of transportation for our Digital Circus members: The Magical Digital Van!!!!

As you can see, I based the design off of The Magic School Bus and Vanzilla from The Loud House. It has a turquoise side exterior and aqua front. The Van has a face that can make facial expressions, but can't actually open her mouth, nor can she speak. But she still can communicate through vehicle noises and radio music (including meme sound effects). It has red velvet seats and seatbelts (what's safety without them, amirite?) for maximum comfort, as well as cupholders in between each seat,

It was built by Kinger, Bubble, Bethany, and Valerie to be able to withstand any kind of weather, crashes, and the usual wear and tear of a regular van. It can also survive landslides and floods.

The Van can carry up to 16 people, which is enough room for all eight Digital Circus members.

As for the seating arrangement, let's talk about that:

• Caine is, of course, the driver. He's the ringmaster of The Amazing Digital Circus, and thus the designated leader of the group. He's the dad friend of the group, who is very prone to anger and anxiety as a result of the antics he has to put up with, both coming from his superstars, and the different locations he and the others explore (WE GETTING TRAUMATIZED WITH THIS ONE!!!!). Pomni and Bubble have to keep his composure in check every now and then, so he doesn't lose whatever marbles he has left inside him.

• Pomni rides shotgun next to Caine. She's basically the little sister friend to Jax, Ragatha, and Gangle, the cousin friend of Zooble, and the granddaughter friend to Kinger. She's also the daughter friend to Caine and Bubble. Both Pomni and Bubble are Caine's straight men whenever he begins to get panicky, a la Crystal Gem Pearl from Steven Universe.

• Bubble rides behind Pomni and next to Kinger. Bubble is the mom friend of the group, having dialed back on the chaotic energy (but not completely tho) to keep Caine's sanity in check. He's also the most affectionate to Caine, since they're essentially lovers now, though the PDA is kept to a minimum to the point of almost non-existence. I'm deciding to make Caine x Bubble a slow burn because I'm still afraid what people think of this ship, though I do remind myself that it's a rarepair, so it's okay.

• Kinger rides next to Bubble and behind Caine, and acts as the grandpa friend. For once, he's not as unstable and kooky, but will space out from time to time. Being two years away from turning 50 will do that to you. He is a DreamWorks movie connoisseur, and it shows from time to time, including Shrek, Antz (though he thinks A Bug's Life is more superior in his opinion), and even Kung Fu Panda of all movies. He'll probably annoy people to death by reenacting the entire Bee Movie script (his favorite DreamWorks movie) and while in character too. The John Goodman bits make Caine nauseous.

• Gangle rides behind Bubble and next to her secret significant other, Zooble. Gangle is one of the little sister friends and is the most adorable weeb anyone's ever met. She forgets to put on her comedy mask for the almost all of the road trip, as she's just simply all too happy to be along for the ride.

• Zooble rides behind Kinger (meaning they are unfortunately in close proximity to Kinger's DreamWorks ramblings, much to their annoyance), and next to their secret girlfriend Gangle. Zooble acts as the non-binary emo cousin, and apparently has some beef with Caine, who Zooble sees as a dad figure, but they won't admit this to anyone. Zooble is a lot more stoic, but still gets occasionally infuriated by everyone's antics, just like Caine does. Like father, like... Zooble?

• In the back, we have Ragatha, who sits next to Jax, and right behind Gangle. Ragatha is the aunt friend of the group, who tries (and often fails miserably) to keep the peace amongst the group. Because of the fact that she was placed in the back, she is prone to motion sickness, especially whenever she tries to read a good book. Caine has to remind Ragatha to stop reading in the freaking Van whenever she starts to feel queasy.

• Last, but probably not the least, Jax is placed next to Ragatha and behind Zooble, which gives him the perfect opportunity to pick on the mix-and-match pal, especially during road games, with Jax's favorite road game being punch buggy. He's the older brother/uncle figure of the group, though most of the time, he tends to make the situation much worse than it needs to be, much to Ragatha's disappointment and Caine's frustration.

All other seats are occupied by their luggage. They packed a lot of luggage with them, but the one thing that that Pomni absolutely refuses to put in any suitcase is her Gummigoo plushie that she created by herself after the ringmaster gave her powers of her own two years ago. Cute, innit?

The trunk? Also their luggage. Look, guys. They packed a fuckton of things with them. Don't want to take any chances, now do we?

The Van will more than likely just sit there and look pretty while their adventures take place. And because it's magic, it can resist just about anything that the cruel mistress that is fate has to throw at her.

Kinger takes the Van for a joyride after it was built, and that's where he discovered that the Carnival also has a built in Bavarian village. Fortunately, he doesn't find out about Caine and Pomni's secret drinking hideout, the tavern that is La Pierrot.

So I guess that's all I have to say about the Van. It was kinda hard to draw, but I think I managed to capture the essence of what I was imagining.

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

myu myu myu myyuuuuuuu!!! hhhhaaaaaiiiii!!! *violent crashing noises in the background as i break into your inbox* i'll. uhm. fix that later—

lightly bumping our foreheads together an' sneakily putting flowers in your hair,, eepy hugs from kittykitty today!! i hope you're doing great aaaand getting the happiness you deserve aaand having time to do what you want!!! GET SURPRISE AFFECTIONED,, SILLY /AFFヽ(>∀<☆)ノヽ(>∀<☆)ノ!!!

by the wayy... for absolutely No Reason At All™... how tall are you?? and how do you feel about physical touch and platonic hugs/cuddles??? mwehehehehe 😈😈

okay now it's time for me to slink off into the darkness!! ((which is really just a dim place cause i'm scared of the dark /j)) dramatically flinging my cape,, farewell for now, my zozzie zeezle zeep!!

Aughghghhhh 🥺🥺😔😔😩😩😩

AUUUUUGHGHGGUUHGHHHHHH

^^^ (/pos. very very /pos!!)

SURPRISE AFFECTIONED!!! (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)(⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ my favorite kind of affection!!!! 🥺🥺🥺💝💞💖💗💘💖💝💓💞 oh my bitty kitty witty, how I adore you so~

forehead bumps 😍 flowers in my hair, even if it is sneakily 😍 one of my dearest friends telling me to take care and hoping for my joy and health 😍 EVERYTHING BABY, EVERYTHING!!! 🙏🏾❤️ you're so 🤧😩 so so so. 🤌🏾 you're literally everything to me omg (/plat! /srs!) 🥹🥹🩷🩷🩷 you're like the sweetest little sister ever !!!! ☺️🥰

as for how things are going, they're going!!! it's been a good week so far — with a surprise snowstorm yesterday and it's sunny today! (⁠´⁠⊙⁠ω⁠⊙⁠`⁠)⁠！ i wish bro would make up their mind about the weather, fr. 🤣😭 these sniffles are BRUTAL !!!

but we're getting by. ~ 😚✨

BAAAAAAHHHHH I hope everything is going swimmingly for you too, bitty!!! 🥺💞🥰 i know you're a busy busy bee over there with academics and everything else; make sure you're taking care as you're doing it, yeah? <33 just like always! adequate rest, yummy snacks, looots of water! if you take meds and vitamins, make sure you've got those on lock too!

aaaaahhh. as for your inquiries!!!

physical affection / platonic cuddles? yes, I am all for it. as I live and breathe, dare I say. it's my lifeline. my numero uno love lingo. can it be selective sometimes? yes !! but for the most part (read: EVERY OTHER TIME OTHER THAN THE 0.0001%) it's a hug here !! a snuggle there !!! a casual arm slung around the shoulder here and there !!! platonic physical affection, HEALTHY TOUCH, is everything to me. 🩵

and 2. I'm around a charming 5'8" - 5'9" !! (っ˘ω˘ς ) possibly even 5'10" ... but I think it's the hair. 🥴 it's a fun time, everyone always assuming I'm older than I actually am and being the first pick for ball sports......... okay maybe not to much the second as the first, but it's nice being useful - and noticed !!! 😆😆 I used to hate how tall I was, even as a kid I was the tallest in my elementary grade! but now I love it. <3, and that's on ✨growth✨ 🌱

[fizziigoth]

Pls,,, I live in an area with a lot of yellowjackets and they're actually really chill, as long as you aren't very clearly going out of your way to hurt them. They also learn your face over time so after a while they'll stop buzzing around your face, but even then they're just investigating! They're also really important pest control and help keep certain bug populations from destroying everything.

I adore them with all of my heart and I will not stand for this slander

Yknow what, I actually agree with you - to a degree!!! Listen, they absolutely *are* dickheads and I stand by that purely bc yellowjackets, unlike "true" wasps, are known for stinging without being provoked (and *their* stings, as opposed to other wasps etc, are more likely to cause serious side effects). That being said, they are incredibly impressive creatures who contribute a huge amount to not only pollination but also to attracting other wildlife such as Jays (circle of life n all that) while controlling other insects that cause mass destruction - like aphids!

On that point though, decimating local beehives - especially that of small scissor bees and mason bees - is one of their specialities (and as an avid lover of bees, that breaks my heart ☹️)

If money wasn't an issue, if the house I lived in was my own and not a rental, and if I didn't live with my flatmate who's hella allergic to them and my dog who tries to eat them bc she's dumb, I'd absolutely set up a space for them near me that they can have free reign over. But, they're responsible for a huge decrease in the local bee population (whether that be wasps directly invading their hives/wiping them out or people killing bees *thinking* they're wasps), and also - they're eating through my walls and it's causing a LOT of issues 🙃

I like wasps from a distance!! Their nests are awesome and the way they function as a creature is cool as fuck both structurally and materially [those bitches recycle!! Good for them] But also, THEY'RE IN MY WALLS AND THEY DON'T PAY RENT AND I'M THE DESIGNATED INSECT RELOCATOR IN MY HOUSEHOLD WHICH MEANS I'M THE ONE THAT KEEPS HAVING TO RESCUE MY BF/FLATMATE/DOG, AND I CAN'T SLEEP WITH THE NOISE THEY'RE MAKING AND THEY'RE CAUSING DAMP IN OUR HOUSE AND ONE STUNG ME ON THE TOE THIS MORNING WHILE I WAS HAVIGN A PISS ANDI WAS NOWHERE NEAR THE BASTARD SO THEY'RE COOL BUT THEY'RE DICKHEADS 😭😭😭😭😭

[also to anyone that's reading them - pretty much all insects and animals have dickhead tendencies, that doesn't mean kill 'em for it!!! Figure out ways to safely (both to you and your environment) relocate them!]