#kick big polluters out

[agentfascinateur]

The Summit of Sarcasm...

It is wholly inappropriate for Adnoc staff to be doing PR for Cop28,” said Pascoe Sabido, a researcher from Corporate Observatory Europe who co-coordinates the Kick Big Polluters Out coalition. He says the findings clearly demonstrate the close links between the oil company and the summit team. Earlier this year, CCR and the Guardian revealed that several members of Adnoc staff had taken up important roles at the summit, including as climate negotiators. Some had even been seconded from ongoing roles with the oil company. In June, the Guardian reported that Adnoc and Cop28 shared an IT system and that Adnoc staff were able to read emails sent to and from the Cop28 team.

[sunderwight]

Modern AU where Shen Yuan accidentally sugar-daddies everyone.

So for the purposes of this, Shen Yuan's family is basically $10 Bananas levels of cluelessly rich. Shen Yuan has almost never had to look at the prices of anything he wants. He and his siblings all get an allowance from the family's main account, which increases when they reach adulthood, and in the interest of fairness his parents made it all the same size. So Shen Yuan gets the same amount of money for his daily living expenses as his older brothers with their penthouse apartments and vacation homes and private jets, at least from the family account (since he doesn't work, he doesn't actually make as much as them in total because they earn more on top of their allowances).

And the thing is, Shen Yuan genuinely just lives a lot more humbly. He likes people but what would he do with a vacation house? Anything really nice would probably require him to fly to get out there, and he gets sick as hell on planes. Living in the central city is also not great for him, because the air pollution is so bad. Having a whole house to himself would also be ridiculous. So he has a reasonable apartment, in a reasonable area, and he splurges every so often on purchases that make him happy and take-out food that he likes, and of course he pays a cleaning service to come in twice a week. Most people assume he's comfortably middle class and has some tech job he does from home, but he's been getting a lot more than he's been spending in his monthly allowances for years now, and the figures are big.

Enter into this environment author Airplane and his trash novels. Novels, multiple, because in this AU there's no PIDW, and instead after some alternate PIDW prototype got popular in the harem genre, Airplane decided to churn out a series of copy-paste shorter stories rather than recycling the same subplots in one massively long epic.

Shen Yuan of course discovers Airplane's writing and becomes as obsessed with it as ever, except this time he notices that if there are delays between new stories, they seem to clear up faster whenever he throws some cash at the problem. And also that the drops in Airplane's writing quality coincide with times when Shen Yuan was having health issues and not keeping up with his VIP purchases. So, he works out that Airplane's probably doing the writing for the money, and that when Peerless Cucumber isn't paying the most for it, Airplane starts listening to the other buffoons in the comment section more to try and entice them to pay his bills instead.

Peerless Cucumber leaves a comment on one of Airplane's latest stories that kicks off the two of them actually chatting, and Shen Yuan eventually gets to the point of offering to fund all Airplane's writing, in exchange for Airplane not doing his crap sellout stuff to appeal to other readers anymore. Airplane thinks he's joking or maybe mocking him. Shen Yuan asks how much it would cost. Airplane fires off a ridiculous number. Shen Yuan doesn't even blink and wires him the first payment. Then he gets annoyed because Airplane leaves him on read for a while, but that's because Airplane is staring at his account balance in shock.

Of course, it's Airplane who starts referring to Peerless Cucumber as his sugar daddy. Shen Yuan is just like "based on your sex scenes I don't think anyone would pay you for that" and Airplane's all "but you WOULD pay for my sex scenes ^_~" and Shen Yuan's like "technically I am actually paying you not to write that shit" and so on. Usual banter. The quality of Airplane's writing improves dramatically, a lot of his readership drops off but he does get new readers and gradually builds up an even bigger fanbase than before, and so on, it all goes pretty well. He eventually writes a few things that take off to the point of getting physical publications and international translations. Technically Airplane no longer needs Shen Yuan to pay all of his bills by that point but he's not going to tell Shen Yuan that! The contract's still good as long as he keeps writing!

Then one of Airplane's online acquaintances runs into some financial trouble and asks for help.

Liu Mingyan used to beta read for Airplane back when he wrote fanfiction (she was like thirteen, Airplane was unaware because internet and hey free beta), and it seems her family has hit a rough patch. She wants tips on how to go pro, but Airplane explains that it was extremely difficult and he mostly lucked out by finding a single wealthy backer. Mingyan wonders if the same guy would be interested in her writing, Airplane sadly thinks not because Mingyan exclusively writes kinky danmei erotica and Peerless Cucumber seems pretty firmly in the closet still and also generally prefers plotty and world-building heavy stuff.

But like, Airplane has definitely gotten a vibe off of Cucumber-bro, and Mingyan's gorgeous older brother does video streams of himself doing cool martial arts and swordsmanship stuff. So he asks her permission and when she gives it, he recommends Liu Qingge's videos to Shen Yuan, being sure to mention that the guy in question can't really afford to keep up with his hobbies and oh what a shame it would be if he had to stop making art like that.

Haha, Airplane, you're not subtle.

Even so, Shen Yuan watches the videos and immediately agrees that Liu Qingge is beauty in motion, and that it would be criminal to deprive the world of more videos of his sword. Swordsmanship! That is the, the art of, martial arts! Definitely. He clicks the donate button, reasoning out that he'll just send a donation about the size of his usual monthly payments to Airplane and call it his good deed for the day.

Liu Qingge is very confused by this new follower from nowhere who suddenly dumped a little over a month's rent into his account. One thing leads to another, with Mingyan and Airplane conspiring to try and get Shen Yuan as a permanent patron, and then Liu Qingge being let in on it. Except that Airplane keeps referring to Shen Yuan as his sugar daddy, and well... it's not like Liu Qingge doesn't ever get 'those' kinds of comments on his videos. At first he's embarrassed, then offended, then mortified that his own younger sister is apparently setting him up to make premium private videos for what he assumes is some old pervert who is going to want him to do untoward things.

However, their options are pretty bleak at the moment, and Liu Qingge worries that if he doesn't do this then Mingyan might. She even mentions something to the effect of having planned to offer herself, and only didn't because she wasn't this "sugar daddy" guy's type!

Teeth clenched, Liu Qingge asks Airplane stiltedly for advice on how to... appeal, to this wealthy benefactor.

In the end though it's not nearly as bad as Liu Qingge feared. He winds up doing more videos in costumes and cosplay, which ought to have been an untenable expense, but Peerless Cucumber always ends up covering the cost of whatever he invests in plus extra. Sometimes he sends Liu Qingge stuff with a request to wear it, but so far it's just been like, badass warrior-themed or historical costumes. Nothing overtly pervy. He does some LARPing, he makes enough to start doing horseback archery again, convinces some of his good-looking peers from various clubs to spar with him, and ultimately the most risque videos he ends up doing are the ones where he demonstrates how to put on certain kinds of gear. He still locks those ones behind paid subscribers only, mostly because he feels like he's doing something illicit now, even if he used to show more skin on his older videos any time he took his shirt off.

Peerless Cucumber doesn't leave creepy comments, either. In fact he seems genuinely nice and supportive, it's hard not to like him, and so even once his situation levels out Liu Qingge decides there's not really much need to stop making videos for him. (He maybe even gets a little giddy thrill over... well, sometimes he finds it all a bit... just when he thinks about Peerless Cucumber watching him demonstrate his physical prowess and finding that alone worth... ANYWAY--)

So that goes on for a while, before Yue Qi enters the scene.

Yue Qi is the childhood friend of one of Shen Yuan's older brothers (Shen bros!) and Shen Jiu owes him a big favor for something that he won't talk about. At least he won't talk to Shen Yuan about it. But Yue Qi is also not the type to ask for help, and Shen Jiu is very bad at offering it, so when Shen Jiu gets word that Yue Qi is having some difficulties making ends meet, he tells Shen Yuan to act as the middle man. Go offer Qi-ge money, he knows you're nice he'll just accept it, and then Shen Jiu will pay the actual bill.

Well it turns out that Yue Qi doesn't just accept it, of course he sees right through it, and gently but firmly tells Shen Yuan that he's not interested in burdening Shen Jiu further than he already has. Etc, etc, stoic stiff upper lips and no proper communication all around. Shen Yuan panics because it's not working and he's also genuinely worried about Yue Qi by now, so he tries to figure out how to make it compelling and basically blurts that, well, see, the thing is that sometimes he pays men to entertain him. You know. To like. Do things, for him. So. He could also pay Yue Qi? To do something for him?

Yue Qi gets the wrong idea entirely, and at first is like, oh, no, A'Yuan, you shouldn't be paying people for that! These things should just happen organically! But Shen Yuan is very adamant that he believes in compensating people for what they do for him, it's not like he can't afford to, and it gets awkward but Yue Qi is like well he does have health problems. It's perhaps difficult for him to meet people. So then he starts worrying about Shen Yuan and all these strange men he's apparently paying for "entertainment". Does his brother know about this?

No of course Shen Jiu doesn't know! He'd hate it, and Shen Yuan doesn't want to hear about how he's doing everything wrong with his life again!

Then Shen Yuan mentions that his prior house cleaning service up and quit on him (they didn't), and if Yue Qi would like to earn fair compensation he could just come over sometimes to help instead, and Shen Yuan would pay him just to tidy up and hang out for a few hours! Which Yue Qi thinks is a fantastic idea, actually, even if Shen Yuan is only doing this because of his brother, this will give Yue Qi a chance to keep an eye on him and his so-called entertainers. Even if he sort of... ends up also being one?

Shen Yuan keeps everything above board, though his apartment always seems perfectly clean and he overpays way too much (Shen Jiu is still footing this bill after all), and Yue Qi starts to think maybe he actually is being paid for intimacy. Of a sort that they're maybe still working up to? Shen Yuan usually has a very thin face after all. He's kind of got two minds about this prospect. On the one hand, he's got his situationship with Shen Jiu, so dating his brother would be absurd. But on the other hand, it's not actually dating, and he does like Shen Yuan, and maybe if they can be good company for each other then Yue Qi won't feel so depressed and Shen Yuan won't need to hire strange men so often.

Meanwhile it's come to Shen Yuan's attention, perhaps through an offhand comment he read online somewhere, that people who are struggling financially often also struggle to "treat themselves". Because even when they have enough money to be comfortable there's often the looming specter of deprivation, and etc, so he figures he should start buying some of his dependents more treats and things. Since they might not buy them for themselves? And also he's enjoying doing this but shhh no he isn't, it's a huge hassle, he's only doing it out of basic moral decency, etc.

So like, Airplane starts getting little things that he'd put on some public wish lists, clearly sent by Peerless Cucumber. And he tells Mingyan to make a list for Liu Qingge too, and sure enough, Liu Qingge (bewildered, slightly flustered) tries to figure out what he's supposed to do with an album from a band he likes and some high-end leather polish. Ultimately settles on playing the music and wearing his nicest leather in his next video. Yue Qi starts arriving at Shen Yuan's place to be plied with his favorite coffees and to have scented candles awkwardly foisted onto him (Shen Yuan does not know what Yue Qi likes in gifts) (he buys these presents himself they're not out of Shen Jiu's pocket).

So finally Shen Yuan's parents start to notice that he's been spending a lot more than usual, and start to worry that he's either been taken in by a scam artist or is secretly dating a gold digger or has developed a drug addiction or something. But asking things directly like normal people is basically illegal in the Shen family, so they decide to hire a private investigator.

Enter Luo Binghe, a young man of humble background who is struggling to make ends meet after the untimely death of his adoptive mother, and is using his P.I. job and his online cooking videos to help pay his way through school (scholarship student). Usually his cases are more like, cyberstalking someone to find out if they're cheating on their spouse, or helping someone planning a lawsuit accumulate evidence on their corrupt employer, or other things like that. When he gets the Shen Yuan case, the idea that the Shen family's son is paying for "company" is well within his list of probable answers.

Though this one is a little... peculiar?

Mostly because Binghe can't find evidence of Shen Yuan actually getting what he would, presumably, be paying for. At first Luo Binghe just goes through the online paper trails, using the info that the Shen parents give him to figure out that Shen Yuan is paying Airplane and Swordmaster Liu (*cough*) what seem to be exorbitant prices just for trashy fiction and cosplay videos. He assumes this is a cover, that someone's actually delivering drugs or going over for "private meetings" or at least actually sending dirty videos as well, but even when he pays for Liu Qingge's VIP access it's just tutorials and such. Neither of these guys are even on any of the sites that are more lenient towards hosting explicit content. Luo Binghe's aware that kinks aren't always obviously sexual, but people don't usually pay through the nose for the kind of content they can easily find for free all over the place, either.

He digs a little more but keeps coming up empty on evidence to clarify which of the many vices the Shen family's son is actually indulging in. Which is a problem because that's the information they're paying him to find out. Plus his curiosity kind of piques as he reads Shen Yuan's seemingly quite invested comments on Airplane's writing and Liu Qingge's videos, looking to see if there's any kind of clandestine code or pattern. But near as he can tell, whatever else Shen Yuan might be getting out of these arrangements, he does genuinely like the stories and videos too? Well. Sometimes. Sometimes he's actually scathingly vitriolic towards Airplane's writing.

Luo Binghe decides that surveilling Shen Yuan himself is probably the way to go. That gets more complicated in court cases, but since the Shen parents just wants to know what's going on and aren't planning on prosecuting their son for anything, it doesn't matter as much if Luo Binghe gets information in sneaky or underhanded ways.

So, Binghe uses the account he created to access Liu Qingge's videos to chat with Shen Yuan a few times, and then recommends his own cooking channel. Shen Yuan doesn't seem too interested in cooking, so Luo Binghe makes sure to include a video that has an image of himself in his recommendation, and then films a few new videos of himself cooking with his shirtsleeves rolled up to three quarters and a few more buttons than usual unbuttoned, adopting a more flirty persona than he typically does for his shows. He takes his cues from some of Liu Qingge's more popular videos for how to be enticing bait.

It takes a few videos, but eventually Shen Yuan comments. Luo Binghe latches onto the chance to start talking to him, playing up a persona of a vulnerable young man with little means who is trying hard to make it through school, etc, and sure enough Shen Yuan seems interested. Well, most predatory people like vulnerable targets, don't they?

However... Shen Yuan just sends him a chunk of money.

Luo Binghe is confused.

Isn't he supposed to ask for something or create some kind of expectation of repayment first? But, maybe this is his approach to handling new targets. Maybe he's just trying to lull Binghe into a false sense of complacency, before he starts indicating what he wants from all of this. Luo Binghe makes sure to move the money Shen Yuan sends him into a separate account, so that if the Shen parents get angry about it then he can return it as a gesture of good faith.

But Shen Yuan just keeps sending supportive comments and donations. Eventually he leaves a comment that alludes to how badly he'd like to taste Binghe's cooking, and Binghe is like finally, but when he implies that they could perhaps meet in person and Luo Binghe could thank him for his support by making him something, Shen Yuan backs off.

Things eventually progress to the point where Luo Binghe, who is a totally normal person treating this like a totally normal job still thank you very much, is basically camping out in the bushes in front of Shen Yuan's apartment building. At some point he conscripts the aid of his weird cousin (finding his birth family was how he got into this business initially), and then almost immediately regrets it because Shen Yuan helps get Zhuzhi Lang a job doing landscaping for his building.

Why would he want Zhuzhi Lang close but not Binghe? Binghe is much handsomer! He'd make an excellent target for seduction! >:(

Anyway eventually Yue Qi catches Luo Binghe lurking around like a creeper and is like, finally, I have caught one of these suspicious men, whilst Binghe is like oh so he does have a lover, well this guy sucks and is clearly not good enough for him, and they both try and chase one another off and Shen Yuan comes home to a heated passive-aggressive-politeness war being waged in front of his apartment. Eventually he realizes the misunderstanding and calls everyone together (zoom conference? in-person meet-up?) to clarify that he is not paying any of them for "special favors", that was just Airplane being deranged about his sense of humor, and then he has no idea what to do when the prevailing response seems to be disappointment.

[nightingale-prompts]

Health Code Violation- DC x DP prompt

"Hold on there. You're not permitted beyond this point." The floating teenage boy said as he tucked his clipboard under his arm.

After a battle with another world-ending villain Superman was killed in action and after a short debate the decision to revive him using the Lazarus Pit was made. However, the league members who were carrying his body to the pit didn't expect it to be blocked off with caution tape. A teenage boy with stark white hair and wearing a hard hat and orange construction vest.

"What are you doing out here kid? And what is with the tape?" Barry asked shifting Clark's heavy ass body from crushing him.

"I'm here to take a look at the leak." He said pointing a thumb in the direction of the green pit.

"The leak?" Diana echoed in confusion.

"Yeah, your planet has a leak. A few actually. Our realm hasn't been managed well and now that the old king is gone we need to fix some things. Right now the leaks need to be sealed." He said. "Also what's with the dead guy?"

"We were bringing him to the Lazarus Pit to revive him." Barry said blankly.

The teen shook his head in astonishment almost dropping his clipboard.

"You are what?! With the what?!"

"The Lazarus pit...?" Hal laughed nervously his face in a half-quirked smile.

"You call it a Lazarus Pit? Guys this is a pool of contaminated ectoplasm. Basically sewage. This thing is full of dead people juice. All those leftover emotions and obsessions are stewing in there. You toss that body in these pool and you'll make a revenant full of anger. It doesn't even have an ecosystem to cleanse it. It's like stagnant water." The teen said waving his pen around before pausing "Wait a minute....you people have been using it? No wonder it's so polluted! What is wrong with you?! Are you trying to contaminate your planet? Do you want zombies?"

It was kind of weird to be scolded by a kid, for everyone but Bruce. He thought of a more pragmatic approach. He didn't like the pit but he acknowledged it's usefulness.

"I understand. But we do want to save our friend and the only way is to use the pit."

"That's a big ask. The pit is one thing but bringing back the dead willy nilly? ...But I guess that's my domain now.. "

The teen mumbled to himself before sighing.

"Look, I want to help. I really do. But the pit is unstable and there are many more on this planet with the same issue. We can't risk an apocalypse and the chance they get into the wrong hands. This is for the safety of your planet." The teen said as mannerly as possible as he dismissed the heros.

"Come on, please. Our friend is dead. You don't want our friend to die." Barry said pleadingly.

"Very mature of you. A bit of shame might help you...alright fine but don't badger me again." The silver-haired being said taking out a small syringe and taking a sample of his own blood.

"It's diluted compared to the pure stuff but 10x stronger than the stuff in the pool. It's safer and once he's kicking again it'll drain out of his system." He tossed the needle to Barry and returned to taking samples of the pit. "This biohazard requires an ecologist. I'll have to import some blob feeders to clean up the toxins. Then either seal this up or link it to the network. But these dumb mortals are just going to keep dumping bodies into it."

The teen mumbled to himself as he tried to find a solution.

A week later all the Lazarus pits had disappeared. The Al Ghuls were scrambling as the source of their powers dried up.

Clark was alive and feeling better than ever. No pit rage at all.

Eventually the boy returned.

"I had a talk with the ancients and they agreed to let you have one ecto pool. Only one thought and it has to be managed by me. As long as you don't try abusing it by going into it while alive or not asking permission I'll allow you to use it. Also, be mindful of my cleaning wisps, they work very hard to keep the natural flow of the ecto cycle going." The teen said holding up a green little ghost blob and petting it.

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - July 22-28

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. Four new cheetah cubs born in Saudi Arabia after 40 years of extinction

“[T]he discovery of mummified cheetahs in caves […] which ranged in age from 4,000 to as recent as 120 years, proved that the animals […] once called [Saudi Arabia] home. The realisation kick-started the country’s Cheetah Conservation Program to bring back the cats to their historic Arabian range. […] Dr Mohammed Qurban, CEO of the NCW, said: […] “This motivates us to continue our efforts to restore and reintroduce cheetahs, guided by an integrated strategy designed in accordance with best international practices.””

2. In sub-Saharan Africa, ‘forgotten’ foods could boost climate resilience, nutrition

“[A study published in PNAS] examined “forgotten” crops that may help make sub-Saharan food systems more resilient, and more nutritious, as climate change makes it harder to grow [current staple crops.] [… The study identified 138 indigenous] food crops that were “relatively underresearched, underutilized, or underpromoted in an African context,” but which have the nutrient content and growing stability to support healthy diets and local economies in the region. […] In Eswatini, van Zonneveld and the World Vegetable Center are working with schools to introduce hardy, underutilized vegetables to their gardens, which have typically only grown beans and maize.”

3. Here's how $4 billion in government money is being spent to reduce climate pollution

“[New Orleans was awarded] nearly $50 million to help pay for installing solar on low to middle income homes [… and] plans to green up underserved areas with trees and build out its lackluster bike lane system to provide an alternative to cars. […] In Utah, $75 million will fund several measures from expanding electric vehicles to reducing methane emissions from oil and gas production. [… A] coalition of states led by North Carolina will look to store carbon in lands used for agriculture as well as natural places like wetlands, with more than $400 million. [… This funding is] “providing investments in communities, new jobs, cost savings for everyday Americans, improved air quality, … better health outcomes.””

4. From doom scrolling to hope scrolling: this week’s big Democratic vibe shift

“[Democrats] have been on an emotional rollercoaster for the past few weeks: from grim determination as Biden fought to hang on to his push for a second term, to outright exuberance after he stepped aside and Harris launched her campaign. […] In less than a week, the Harris campaign raised record-breaking sums and signed up more than 100,000 new volunteers[….] This honeymoon phase will end, said Democratic strategist Guy Cecil, warning the election will be a close race, despite this newfound exuberance in his party. [… But v]oters are saying they are excited to vote for Harris and not just against Trump. That’s new.”

5. Biodegradable luminescent polymers show promise for reducing electronic waste

“[A team of scientists discovered that a certain] chemical enables the recycling of [luminescent polymers] while maintaining high light-emitting functions. […] At the end of life, this new polymer can be degraded under either mild acidic conditions (near the pH of stomach acid) or relatively low heat treatment (> 410 F). The resulting materials can be isolated and remade into new materials for future applications. […] The researchers predict this new polymer can be applied to existing technologies, such as displays and medical imaging, and enable new applications […] such as cell phones and computer screens with continued testing.”

6. World’s Biggest Dam Removal Project to Open 420 Miles of Salmon Habitat this Fall

“Reconnecting the river will help salmon and steelhead populations survive a warming climate and [natural disasters….] In the long term, dam removal will significantly improve water quality in the Klamath. “Algae problems in the reservoirs behind the dams were so bad that the water was dangerous for contact […] and not drinkable,” says Fluvial Geomorphologist Brian Cluer. [… The project] will begin to reverse decades of habitat degradation, allow threatened salmon species to be resilient in the face of climate change, and restore tribal connections to their traditional food source.”

7. Biden-Harris Administration Awards $45.1 Million to Expand Mental Health and Substance Use Services Across the Lifespan

““Be it fostering wellness in young people, caring for the unhoused, facilitating treatment and more, this funding directly supports the needs of our neighbors,” said HHS Secretary Xavier Becerra. [The funding also supports] recovery and reentry services to adults in the criminal justice system who have a substance use disorder[… and clinics which] serve anyone who asks for help for mental health or substance use, regardless of their ability to pay.”

8. The World’s Rarest Crow Will Soon Fly Free on Maui

“[… In] the latest attempt to establish a wild crow population, biologists will investigate if this species can thrive on Maui, an island where it may have never lived before. Translocations outside of a species’ known historical range are rare in conservation work, but for a bird on the brink of extinction, it’s a necessary experiment: Scientists believe the crows will be safer from predators in a new locale—a main reason that past reintroduction attempts failed. […] As the release date approaches, the crows have already undergone extensive preparation for life in the wild. […] “We try to give them the respect that you would give if you were caring for someone’s elder.””

9. An optimist’s guide to the EV battery mining challenge

““Battery minerals have a tremendous benefit over oil, and that’s that you can reuse them.” [… T]he report’s authors found there’s evidence to suggest that [improvements in technology] and recycling have already helped limit demand for battery minerals in spite of this rapid growth — and that further improvements can reduce it even more. [… They] envision a scenario in which new mining for battery materials can basically stop by 2050, as battery recycling meets demand. In this fully realized circular battery economy, the world must extract a total of 125 million tons of battery minerals — a sum that, while hefty, is actually 17 times smaller than the oil currently harvested every year to fuel road transport.”

10. Peekaboo! A baby tree kangaroo debuts at the Bronx Zoo

“The tiny Matschie’s tree kangaroo […] was the third of its kind born at the Bronx Zoo since 2008. [… A] Bronx Zoo spokesperson said that the kangaroo's birth was significant for the network of zoos that aims to preserve genetic diversity among endangered animals. "It's a small population and because of that births are not very common," said Jessica Moody, curator of primates and small mammals at the Bronx Zoo[, …] adding that baby tree kangaroos are “possibly one of the cutest animals to have ever lived. They look like stuffed animals, it's amazing.””

July 15-21 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[andypantsx3]

SOMETHING IN THE WATER | 5 | SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. TAGS/WARNINGS: mermaid au, interspecies relationships, mating rituals/courting behavior, (sort of) case fic, aged up characters, eventual smut, fem pronouns/afab reader LENGTH: 3.5k of est. 21k, 5th of 8 chapters

It was pollution. No doubt about it.

Under the lens of one of Kamui’s microscopes, the evidence was incontrovertible. The piece of white coral Shouto had brought you sported distinct traces of industrial processing chemicals that had almost certainly contributed to its bleaching, the concentration high enough that it had also probably choked the life out of the nearby environment.

It was high enough, in fact, that you were absolutely floored your team hadn’t come across even a hint of anything similar before. Based on the levels, you should have been finding at least smaller traces close to the area it came from, but nothing you’d found so far had even hinted at anything like this.

Which begged the question, just where in the hell had Shouto gotten it from?

When you legged it back down to the beach, however, both the merman and your sandwich were missing. The only evidence of his presence were the slices of mozzarella that had clearly been picked out of the sandwich, laid out cleanly on the wrapper you’d left behind.

You’d sighed and cleaned your trash up, then slogged back to your room for a shower and a few hours of sleep, stowing the coral away safely to show to your team in the morning.

When you awoke, however, you realized you would have no way of explaining to them where you’d obtained it, and no way to point them any closer to the source of the issue. You resolved to find Shouto as soon as possible to figure out what was going on, hopefully before the scheduled tour of Sunfish.

You rocketed through your morning tasks, and hurriedly volunteered to take over trap checking duty, disappearing out the door before Yu could so much as get out a reply.

You boated north to the reef where you’d first met Shouto, and jumped into the water before you’d even gotten your snorkeling gear on properly, certain the merman would somehow find you. You’d nearly finished checking the trap, kicking off the seafloor to rise back to the surface when a hand seized your elbow, guiding you back up.

Shouto’s handsome face was staring back at you when you yanked off your goggles, his distinctive hair slicked back with ocean water, the scar around his eye a deep pink in the sunlight. Sunlight glittered off the droplets on his skin, making him look even more ethereal than he usually did, and your breath momentarily seized in your chest.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, your face going hot when it came out weirdly breathy. Embarrassing.

A tiny little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, and his fingers flexed on your elbow. “Hello,” he said in his deep, even tone.

Even that simple greeting somehow made you flush. You quickly marshaled yourself, trying to remember you had come here with an agenda, not to float here stupidly in the water, staring at him.

“Shouto—that coral you gave me yesterday? One of them has the signs of the pollution I was looking for!”

Shouto blinked, a droplet of water sliding down the side of his straight, handsome nose. Your eyes seemed weirdly glued to it as it reached the edge of his mouth.

“Then you liked it? It had…microbes?” he asked.

You nodded distractedly. “Sort of. Signs of microbial unhealth and chemically-induced bleaching. And I did like it. I think you might have actually solved the whole case for me!”

Shouto’s mouth pulled into a fuller, happier smile, just enough to bare the tops of those sharp teeth. You blinked, momentarily stunned, looking back up into his eyes to find him watching you intently.

“You liked it. My gift,” he said, something strangely smug in his tone. A little thrill raced through you, a frission of pleasure, at having put that expression on his face, that tone in his voice. Your ears went hot, and you pointedly did not think about why his pleasure made you so pleased as well.

“Yeah, I loved it,” you nodded, startled when Shouto’s fingers slid from your elbow to your wrist, lifting it up to his face.

But then in the next instant his expression shifted, his brows furrowing and the edges of his smile dipping. Instantly, you mourned the loss of it.

“But…you are not wearing it,” he said. “Either of them.”

Your eyelashes fluttered themselves in another disconcerted blink. Had…that been a requirement? Had he said that to you, yesterday?

You didn’t think you’d had much conversation between him handing over the bits of coral and you rushing off to the lab with them, but maybe that had been his expectation of what you would do with them. Maybe that was a common merperson thing, and you were too ignorant to think of it.

In fact, you hadn’t even taken the time to ask him why he’d given the coral bits to you, too focused on getting them under Kamui’s microscope like a huge disrespectful idiot.

You flushed, suddenly feeling incredibly rude. Was this a merperson custom you had just flagrantly ignored?

“Am I—? Is that something your people, um, do?” you asked. “Wear coral?”

Shouto nodded, those mismatched eyes still glued to your bare wrist. His fingers carefully shifted to encircle it, like he was replacing the expected bits of coral with his own hold on you. Your face burned and you paddled a little bit harder in the water, expelling nervous energy.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t know. Of course I will wear them, I just need to find some kind of string—” A sudden thought seized you. “Except—-well, Shouto, I need that white coral to prove pollution. I need to show it to my team, and be able to explain where I got it from. They might need to send it off as evidence.”

Shouto’s fingers tightened on you, though you noted he was still mindful of his claws. A hissing noise exploded out of him, and that scraping feeling burned at the back of your throat again, the bioelectric signal of his distaste clear enough.

“It is yours, not theirs,” he hissed, his handsome face suddenly all twisted up.

You could quite literally feel how distressed he was, and your heart throbbed with the realization that you were the cause.

You immediately backtracked, horrified. You shifted in the merman’s grip, twisting your hand to grab his wrist too, and put your other hand to his shoulder, holding him firmly.

“I’m sorry—Shouto, yes of course it’s mine. Of course I won’t give it to them,” you said, trying to angle your face to look into his eyes. “I didn’t realize—of course I will keep it with me.”

To your surprise, Shouto calmed immediately. The snarl faded from his mouth, his lips resuming their normal soft, sweet shape, and his other hand came to rest at your waist, pulling you a fraction closer to him.

“You promise,” he asked, though it was phrased more like a statement than a question.

You had to fight back a shocked laugh at how easily he’d been rerouted, and how unbelievably fleeting and childish that little tantrum had been. A prince of his people and here he was, getting fussy with you!

There was nothing for your exasperated snort, your helpless smile. “Yes, yes, I promise. But you have to help me collect another piece of white coral from where you got it originally. I promise it’s important.”

Shouto’s hands tightened on you, and you found yourself being dragged closer, so that he was holding you up in the water, only inches from the hard planes of his chest. His tail brushed against the inside of your thigh, the scales rasping lightly over the skin there. You went still, a little thrill racing up your spine at his sudden, more immediate proximity.

“You want me to take you there,” he said, his voice suddenly a little deeper.

You blinked. “I—yes? Is that…okay?”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed in on you, and you shifted nervously in his hold as his pupils went a little more slitted, a little more inhumanly focused. “It is an area of some significance to my people, though it is now difficult to get to. Your kind has begun to touch it.”

Your interest piqued. Humans had begun to touch it, alright. Judging by the chemical processing agents left behind on the piece of coral Shouto had given you, you could guess exactly which humans had touched it, too.

“Is it Sunfish?” you couldn’t help but ask, perking up in his hold.

Shouto inclined his head, a movement that brought his mouth almost dangerously close to yours. Your breath choked off in your lungs.

“Yes,” Shouto replied. “The…microbes you are interested in, then…? They are to do with Sunfish?”

You nodded excitedly, eagerly sucking in another breath. “Yes, yes! God, I’m so stupid, I should have told you earlier—anything to do with where Sunfish is operating is of interest to me. We’ve been testing the—um, the microbes to put it simply—around the area but if Sunfish has somewhere we haven’t been yet, that’s what I’m looking to know.”

Shouto looked thoughtful, and a claw trailed absently down the skin of your arm. You jumped, startled.

“Then I will take you,” he said, eyes cutting back to yours. “On one condition.”

You felt your eyebrows raise. Well that was unexpected of him. Who knew mermen knew how to bargain?

“Name your price,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth quirked then, a hint of a sharp incisor showing, but the rest of his expression was strangely sincere. “I want dinner and a movie,” he said, a claw trailing sweetly, absently down the skin of your arm again. “Like you said humans do.”

You could feel your eyebrows escaping towards your hairline, your mouth going slack. “You want to watch a movie and have dinner,” you repeated, floored.

Shouto inclined his head, the damp strands of red and white mingling with the movement. “You said I would like a movie.”

Damn. You had said that, hadn’t you? But you couldn’t think how in the hell you were going to get Shouto to a movie. It wasn’t like there was a movie theater on this island, and besides that it wasn’t like you could just piggyback a real life merman into one.

You supposed if pressed, you could preload something on the shitty island wifi and then bring your laptop down to the beach and watch things that way. But what if someone spotted the light and came looking? Shouto could disappear quick enough, you had no doubt, but how to explain the laptop?

And then it occurred to you: the inn had a maintenance shed, just off the main office. A sudden image came to you of wheeling Shouto uphill in a wheelbarrow, getting him into the tub in your room, and setting up a few pillows for yourself, and some kind of dinner spread on the floor.

It was unconventional. But then—so was the idea of dinner and a movie with a merman at all.

You stuck out your hand, making a mental note to swing by the maintenance shed on your way back in tonight. “It’s a deal.”

Shouto stared at your fingers, seeming not to know what to do with the gesture, until you took one of his hands in your own, pumping it up and down. He held on for too long after that, those crimson-tipped fingers closing in over your own, warm and wet and strong.

“Then I will take you now, if you like,” Shouto said. “If you are ready.”

You nodded, paddling your feet a little uselessly in his hold, in eager anticipation. Confirmation of Sunfish’s activity, and the chance to see a place meaningful to Shouto and his people. It was a dream come true for any marine biologist.

Shouto let you go, following you slowly as you paddled back to the boat, swimming leisurely, looping circles around you. He helped boost you back into the boat, and then hauled himself up after you on the strength of his arms alone. The back of your neck went very warm, as you watched his muscle coil and flex as he pulled himself in, then looked at you imploringly.

“I will point the way and you will take us,” he said, slithering across the floor of the boat to slide in next to you behind the wheel. He peered at all the meters and dials interestedly, pressing a crimson claw to one.

You had to laugh at the ridiculousness of a merman sitting behind the wheel of a boat, and another wild idea occurred to you.

“Wanna learn how to drive?” you asked.

Shouto’s eyes slid over to you, turquoise and grey pinning you to your seat. “To operate the boat?”

You nodded. Another hot flush crept across your cheeks as a slow smile spread over Shouto’s mouth, those mismatched eyes glittering.

“Yes,” he said. “I should like that very much.”

You gestured him over to your seat, rising out of it as Shouto slid all that heavy muscle your way, the scales of his tail bright and fiery in the sun. He was warm and smelled like salt up close, and you tried not to take note of the way his bicep flexed as he moved to grip the wheel in taloned fingers.

You gave him a brief run through of all the meters and gauges, the fuel level meter, speedometer, the ammeter and engine hours. He seemed disinterested in all but the speed—a typical man, even if only his upper half looked it.

Then you showed him the throttle and how to turn the key to start and what degrees of movement of the wheel at a higher speed wouldn’t send both of you flying out of the boat. And then you sank down next to him, gripping the seat for safety as he started the boat, looking thrilled.

He guided the boat off the reef more carefully than you would have expected, but he grew bolder as you made it out into deeper waters, applying a ton of throttle instantly and sending you falling backwards in your seat. You zoomed across the gentle waves, horrifyingly fast, but unexpectedly smoothly for someone who had just learned. Shouto seemed intimately familiar with the island’s layout, navigating smoothly through some of the shallow channels that gave you an almost-regular heart attack, gliding easily across the waves and not seeming to catch a single one the wrong way.

A thrilled laugh bit out of you, getting lost in the wind as you sped across the sea. Shouto’s mouth pulled into a wider smile, looking pleased with himself, those sharp teeth white in the sun. You found yourself smiling, at the ludicrousness of being driven around by a merprince, and at how much Shouto looked like he was enjoying himself.

In almost no time Shouto was steering you into a shallow cove on the eastern side of the island a couple hundred meters away from where you’d laid out an observation station. As you slowed to a stop you helped anchor the boat, feeling your brows furrowing back down in confusion, the smile slipping off your face.

If there was any level of pollution in this cove then you would have known about it from the nearby observation station. You weren’t sure if Shouto had the right spot.

But as you turned back to him he pointed a claw towards the jut of the land, aiming with certainty. “There used to be a cave through which we could access the lagoon,” he said. “But it is blocked off to us now.”

You stared at him, befuddled. “Blocked off? By what?”

Shouto’s mouth thinned into an irritated line. “By some human invention—I do not know what it is.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Then—how did you get the coral out of this, uh, lagoon if you can’t access it?”

Shouto’s eyes dipped, following your words as your mouth shaped them, looking strangely intent. Your ears went hot.

“I climbed,” he said simply.

You whipped around to stare back at the strip of land rising into the jungle. You could just make out a clearing in the trees where you thought a lagoon might lay. And it was no small distance. Your jaw dropped, imagining Shouto having to drag himself over meters and meters of land to get there.

Your stomach fluttered, the white coral suddenly taking on a new significance if Shouto had gone to such trouble for it. It had to be more than just an area of interest to his people—-it more likely had to be extremely significant if this was the length merpeople had to go for this coral. No wonder he hadn’t liked the idea of you testing it, of you surrendering it and mailing it out and away, if he’d had to pull himself over land like that to get it.

And with this realization, a new, wildly disconcerting thought crept over you, an insane flight of fancy.

Was it possible that Shouto had given you… not just a friendly gift, but something even more meaningful than you had initially realized? If this was a site of cultural significance, and he’d suffered to get the coral for you—did it mean something a little bit more intimate than an exchange between new friends?

Your gaze darted back over to Shouto, sitting pertly in his seat. He struck such a handsome profile, all sleek muscle and delicately carved features, his face carefully-noted and almost supernaturally angelic. His coloring, too, was magnificent, the rose of his scar, the deep scarlet of his scales and his claws. And he was so sweet, and funny, and so very interesting. He was unlike anything—anyone—you had ever seen, and the thought of him fetching you a gift of special significance made an even more blistering wave of heat flare up in your belly.

You rose from your seat, determined to see this lagoon for yourself.

“Alright, you wait here,” you told Shouto, “I’m going to go check it out.”

He nodded, watching you closely as you went to the bag of supplies, fishing out a camera, the log book, your shoes, and a couple pieces of sampling equipment. You stuffed them all in a dry bag, rolling the top down tight and buckling securely.

“You will be careful,” Shouto intone in his deep voice, more an order than a question.

You smiled up at him, nodding your head. “Yes. I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.”

He looked satisfied with that, and helped lower you down into the water to swim for land. He slithered off the edge beside you, sinking smoothly into the water like a dropped stone, and swam along underneath you, following you all the way until you clambered onto the sand. You hurriedly dug around in your bag for your shoes, stuffing your feet into them still sandy and damp as Shouto looked on.

Once properly outfitted, you followed the beach as it trailed off into scrub and bushes, and then into towering palms, making your way into the jungle. The sun shone brightly through the leaves, painting everything around you in shades of sunlit green, the air under the canopy thicker than on the beach. Your feet slid over the damp sand in your sneakers, a sensation you did not particularly enjoy, but you walked briskly, your curiosity leading you onwards.

In only a few minutes, the trees once again gave way to a small strip of sand, and you spilled out onto the beach of the lagoon.

It was instantly clear to you exactly what Shouto had meant. A large metallic wall dammed off one side of the lagoon, most probably blocking off the underwater channel Shouto had told you about. It had been bolted into the jutting coral and rock around it, sealing off any water flow. Around it, the ancient coral walls of the lagoon were bone white wherever the water lapped at them, disturbingly bleached of color, and you thought the scrub and the trees that had built up over the surface overtime looked a little bit unhealthy too.

Shouto had most definitely gotten his coral from here.

As you looked around your certainty grew, until you spotted the most damning evidence. Only a scant few meters away from where you had come out of the forest, there was a pipe dug into the earth, sitting about a meter above the water level of the lagoon. It was still shiny, clearly new, and it was also dribbling the occasional bit of liquid into the lagoon, as if someone were piping certain substances out and away from the rest of their facilities.

Your heart rate doubled at the sight, and you knew even as you unloaded your equipment to take samples that you had found exactly what you had been looking for.

There was no doubt in your mind that this pipe led back to Sunfish. And Shouto had indeed just solved this entire case.

[flamingbluepanda]

"Hey."

Ian groaned, eyes closed. He was so, so comfortable. Maybe if he just ignored him...

Why had Ian been so dead set on marrying this bastard again?

"Hey, Ian."

Poke.

Motherfucker.

"Hey. Ian. Red. Firecrotch. Sugartits."

Poke poke poke poke-

"What?" Ian groaned, raising one heavy arm to swat at him. He had been dead asleep when Mickey had shaken him awake.

"C'mon," mickey said, "You have to see this."

Ian sighed, forcing his eyes open. He would've ignored him, really, but Mickey sounded so earnest, and they were three days into their ridiculously long awaited honeymoon to Mexico, so Ian was feeling particularly sappy.

When they'd gotten off parole, finally, three long years after leaving prison, Mickey had been the one to suggest they visit the little village he'd settled in. It was close enough to a big city for mickey to work, back when he lived here, but out of the way enough to hide from the feds and any cartel members that were looking for him. The little old lady who had rented mickey his apartment here was still kicking, by some miracle, and had spent the last three days gleefully whacking Mickey with a shoe every time he was in reach, yelling at him in Spanish.

("She actually really likes him," her son, Luca, who was apparently mickeys singular friend from his time here, had told Ian. "They only ever got along by yelling at eachother, but Mami thinks he's hilarious and was really worried when he disappeared off the face of the earth.")

Still, the last few days had been paradise -- the beach, meeting the members of the community who surprisingly thought mickey was amazing, the food -- and Ian was feeling sappy.

He heaved himself out of bed, sleepily letting Mickey lead him out of the small motel room and down to the beach.

"Okay," mickey whispered, "look up."

Ian did - and his breath caught in his throat.

There were so many stars.

"Were far enough from the city that the light pollution isn't so bad," Mickey explained, "I cried like a baby the first time I saw it."

Yeah, Ian thought he might cry too.

They spread out a blanket and sit there for a long while, just staring. It was gorgeous -- Ian almost thought he could see the milky way.

"It's beautiful," Ian said, "worth getting out of bed for."

"It always is," Mickey said, so tenderly that Ian didn't need to look to know his husband was looking at him, not the sky.

[littlecorpselady]

Belonging

Pairing : Bo x reader part 2

Warnings : stalking, brief smut at the end, Stockholm syndrome, barely proof read

(Pinky promise, will add a link to part 1 eventually)

You were excited upon greeting the morning ahead with newfound productivity for once, packing everything needed for a old fashioned trip through the surrounding forest. That morning you had kicked off the floral sheets and pulled open the curtains all the way inspecting the admirable view surrounding the cabin. No big city traffic and horns blaring but mother nature in its natural state, far away from mass amounts of pollution.

Today's Lousiana heat was especially sticky so a pair of shorts for today wouldn't hurt, your thoughts hummed happily to just yourself before setting out.

Birds chirped freely filling you with a sense of ease. The sun peeped through the leaves, yet ignoring the blarings sun's beams beating gown on your exposed shoulders and legs, you continued aimlesslyforward. Eventually a river comes into view, flowers blooming proudly in a variation of fronts, decorating the scenery along the river, inviting a dip. Settiling on the edge after slipping off your trainers and socks, you take that invitation happily. Your shoulders slumping back without the burden of social pressure or anxiety, no prying eyes to your knowledge.

Leaned against the drivers seat door, Lester watches from a long distance on the road side with a hand resting on his walkie talkie, weighing his choices. Watching the woman sat by the river, mind too far wandered off to notice him. After about a minute or two he continues on with his day, hopping into the drivers seat and slipping out the walkie talkie to bring the new 'tourist' resting not too far from Ambrose to Bos attention. Giving plenty of time to prepare the show.

After enjoying the cool water flow between your toes, you give a good shake before slipping back on your socks and trainers to make your merry way over to the nearby road, hoping a car with stop. Sticking to the roads side for safety, the walk is only a couple of minutes of long before a truck pulls up besides you, not even needing to signal to it to stop as a man in a green cap rolls down his smudged trucks window.

"Need a ride?" He flashes a grin wide enough for it to come off across as just silly rather than creepy.

"If that's okay with you." The moment you answer, he pops open the passenger door and gestures for you to make your way around to it. Hurrying over to it as if he's going to change his mind any second now, you climb in, a foul stench of death greeting you at the door. He must've noticed the way you Instinctively scrunch up your nose because he replies fairly quick.

"Sorry, trucks seen better days!" The statement is followed up with a heartedly chuckle, finding it amusing. It's charming enough for you to wave off and provide a polite smile to the man, even if he has dried up roadkill blood on his cheek.

"It's no problem at all, could be worse. Really."

"Where you heading?" He follows up, already starting up the truck again and driving straight ahead down the long lonesome road, as if with his mind already made up.

"Anywhere your going I guess. Which is?" Yet again he seemed amused with your answers, occasionally turning a gaze in your direction.

"Ain't going nowhere in particular sweetheart. Just picking up and collecting roadkill off the side of the road. Putting food on the table." It seems a bit more obvious to you now with the clarification, his truck stained with grime and decorated in all sorts of trophies from animal bones strung up the the ceiling and a Bowie knife planted in the dashboard. Before you could speak though, he beats you to it.

"But I know a place called Ambrose. Old but charming, i promise ya." Right on time, he passes a billboard, dusty with age but as clear as day exclaiming "Trudys famous House of wax!" In big letters. Feeling a bit curious, you nod to the strange man and he continues on for a good while, his route memorised.

Pretty soon he pulls up in front of what appears to be a washed out enterence. He gestures ahead indicating the towns up ahead.

"Forgot this ways washed out, mind helping me with the brakes a moment?" He turns to you and from the corner of your eye, you could swear he's undressing you in his own way. A shiver trickles down your spine, crawling into your nerves and setting them all off. Nevertheless you agree but a bit more reluctant this time around.

Getting out of the drivers seat, he makes his way around the truck and surprisingly you manage to trust the process enough for him to open up the passenger door for you.

Realistically it didn't take long but upon some overthinking, it definitely stretched on by a couple of minutes helping the man you learnt to be named "Lester" during a exchange of goodbyes. Turns out there was a town as promised, a rigid sign stating 'Ambrose' confirming it as you passed it. The town is lit up by noise such as distance chatter and the sound of cars, you trusted your ears enough to not question the empty streets. It was a Sunday after all, it wasn't uncommon for small towns to be getting in a few prayers.

Making your way around, although the museum stood proudly in the distance caught your interest first, the gas station attracted you over strongly at the sound of some Marilyn Manson blaring on a radio. Peeking in through the glass, nobody was in sight so pushing open the door which set off the typical bell above, you called in out of curiosity.

"Hello?" No answer despite the music filling the dusty place.

Maybe everyone really is at church today?

Making your way up the road and approaching the church up ahead your path, a man in a dark suit stood leaned against the door with a cigarette being placed between his lips. His hair was neatly slick back and his eyes shined a familiar blue as his head tilted up in your direction upon the gravel crunching underneath your trainers.

"Hey?" You called out, almost immediately regretting the bold approach as his gaze burnt a hole into you.

"I know you, your the man who helped with my car yesterday." He pauses, the suspense following shortly behind him before he nods, allowing you a sigh of relief.

"Names Bo Sweetheart." You almost didn't want to give your name back, not with how smoothly his pet names came, laced with charm.

"Nice meeting you again Bo, names Y/n."

His gaze becomes much more considerable, sizing you up momentarily before flickering his unfinished cigarette to the ground, crushing it with his heel into to gravel before straightening up. Just how you remembered he stood up talk but somehow much more prideful, his look suiting such pride as he extended a hand. Taking it in yours, he damn near engulfs your hand whole in just one shake, his skin calloused with hard physical work and lifes experience under his belt. Stood before him now, you felt amateur assumably a good few years younger than him.

The rest of the day is spent mutually sharing a conversation from outside of the church to the outside of his house. That day unknown to you, today was the first time anybody walked out of Ambrose with their flesh uncoated in layers of thick wax. The first to be able to even set foot back to the outside world and at the same time share a encounter with Bo sinclair.

You beat the moon before it could set to your cabins front door. Greeted by the warm lighbulbs glow as you forgot to switch it off before departure. Dropping the backpack by the front door and sliding the door shut behind you without locking it, your make your way to the kitchen for a much needed cup of tea. It's not like you needed to lock it anyway, besides the little town a short drive away, it wasn't like there was much else around. You were safe you coaxed yourself just once before forgetting about it. The unlocked front door.

You didn't know what compelled you to get up in middle of the night but something did. Something compelled you enough to slip out from the comfort of the floral sheets and make a trip to the curtains. Peeling them open ever so carefully for a peak outside, it took a moment but you did see something. Squinting hard enough, it took the shape of a unmoving truck just parked outside the cabin. With your heart spiking from zero to pure dread, you ducked away from the window to catch a breath. Surely it was just the night playing tricks again. Peeling yourself from the wsll and back to the window, it was definitely a truck but its now you realise the drivers seat looks empty. Or atleast you could swear it is from here. Before anything else, a pair of calloused hands grab from behind. One hand wrapping around muffling your scream and the other holding you tightly by the waist against their chest. Their breathes were slow as gathered by the slow rise and fall of the chest against your pace as their grip over your mouth and nose hardened. Eventually it became too much effort to breath or even see and everything went dark as your body went limp.

Drifting In and out of consciousness, at first you felt yourself being carried down the stairs over what could only be assumed to be a shoulder. Next you felt that rare breeze as if being taken outside, the sound of a truck door opening before your paralysed body was being laid down. Nothing else was taken in before your vision went dark again for another couple of minutes. The next time you opened then was when your body was hoisted over somebodies shoulder like a lousy sack of potatoes, to be carried and tossed to the ground. Up some steps you went before a door was kicked open and shut. This time determined to focus on atleast something and that you did, a brown scruffy pair of worn old boots with a hole starting to form at the front of one of them. From there you watch with a fair amount of concentration as said boots ascend up a wooden staircase up to a hallway.

Before you could think much further, your hands clench at his back, pushing away from him with little to none success because all you earn is the tilt of his head. The only petty victory being that at some point you knocked off his cap during his journey up the staircase. The moment he pushes open a bedroom door, he drops you onto your ass onto a bed. Instinctively, you scootch yourself backwards to put as much distance as you can between yourself and..Bo. It's the same man yet again, the charming road side mechanic, the well dressed church goer from yesterday. It all pools into you at once, the realisation and the intense burden of regret.

"Mornin' suger" that once addictive Southern accent suddenly feeling invasive as his previously welcoming smirk takes a much more sinister from right before you. His eyes glinting with cruel promises as he surveyed the paralysed mess laid out before him. Another one of his playthings to pull apart and put back together until he either got bored or it fell apart for Vincent to reconfigure. Another piece of art among many others, condemned to Ambrose until the wax fizzles away into meaningless nothing.

That's how you become the empty vessel you are today, curled up by his bedroom window. Too lost in the pits of your mind to even acknowledge Bos truck parking in front of the house. Too restless to even take notice of the presence lingering behind you until it reaches out. Until he reaches out, resting a hand on your shoulder and lightly shaking it. It was strange. The way he looks at you now, it's different or atleast you think it is. He used to look down at you, not like a human being but much more as if a animal, a mutt. Something he can train and re mold into pure obedience at his side, something he can wrap a collar around and pull it around. Now you could swear up and down there's atleast some interest In his gaze. Lust, curiosity, whatever it was you hoped it came with praise, any form of approval.

In the past, your first couple of weeks here, you would've rather taken a layer of wax to the skin any day than take any affection he had to offer. You don't how it happend but the past you shrivelled up inside, confined and repressed to the back of your mind. Now all you could crave was his hand soothing through your hair and a firm kiss to the forehead, leaving behind his mark. Even if it wasn't visible, you could feel the burn it left in its wake.

Tonight his warm body pressed flush against yours as he pulled you back by the hips against him. Smothered in his praise as he breathed stings of approval by your ear, only for you to hear. In contrast to his approval, his hand are rough all over, proven especially as he pushes your head down impossibly further against the mattress, your cheek melting against the sheets as he rubs a thumb against your core earning a strangled moan. Something about this time felt special, less like the feeling of just being fucked and more like the feeling of being made love to. A slither of belonging creeping inside of you and planting itself as he buried himself forward inside of you once more, his hand pulling you head back as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, one last muffled groan before he eases his tongue past your lips.

For once, it felt real. The sense of belonging and security.

*thanks for reading 🫶

[101maverick]

Prompt request: Secretly Atlantean gothamite saving Dick Grayson Robin from drowning in the bay. She recognizes his voice as her classmate crush.

They would ideally be 13-14 ish

A/n: okok this is soooo original i’m in loooveee. I did some research to find out where exactly the Gotham bay is in terms of city area and I hope i got it right :)) Also let’s ignore the fact this took me a whole month to finish, okay? Very sorry about the wait, life has been kicking my butt recently😅

Fishy Business

The water in Gotham was shit.

The pollution typical of every big American city was one thing, but whatever the heck Gotham had was ten times worse. Like, Chernobyl level bad.

Whatever filth was thrown in the waters of the Gotham Harbour on the daily definitely saw a lot of local chemical creations, the ones the city’s rogues were so fond of coming up with to terrorise the population.

Needless to say you would not be swimming in open waters any time soon.

You missed the ocean. You missed being in your element.

The fact you weren’t stupid enough to dare a swim in chemically spiked water didn’t negate the fact the Gotham Harbour was the only body of water you had available though, if not only to look at wistfully while mourning what you had before having to come to this forsaken city.

And that’s what you were doing when it happened. You had been stood up by your classmate and crush, Dick Grayson, for your chemistry study session. Neptune only knows how much that boy sucks at the subject, and the fact he skipped out on your study session made your insides flare up in indignation. Coming to the nearest body of water and reminiscing was the best way you knew of for letting go of ugly feelings.

Just letting your hair be lightly whipped around by the wind, staring wistfully into the last blazing scorches of the dying sun, standing on one of the docks and pretending the overwhelming smell of fish came from the dredges of the seaside market you used to camp out near as a kid.

Then, of course, it happened.

A loud crash startled you out of your musings, and you turned around just in time to see a figure splashing in the water a ways away.

Who the hell goes for an evening swim here? You thought to yourself as you made your way closer to the perturbed water, keeping to the elongated shadows born of the fish crates scattered around.

Once you were close enough to distinguish more of the figure, your eyes widened considerably.

The body flailing around in the murky water of the docks was none other than Robin, infamous sidekick to Gotham’s resident bat-themed vigilante.

Gotham’s resident vigilante that was very clear about his stance on super-powered beings in his territory.

You considered your options. If Batman knew his sidekick was saved by someone with very obviously atlantean powers he no doubt would clock you as somebody who wanted to mess with him, who was probably even spying on him due to the conveniency of the coincidence.

You did not want to find out what Batman did to people who not only disregarder his rules by merely existing in the wrong place, let alone what he did to people he thought were meddling in his business.

Plus, surely Robin could swim, right? He would have no problem getting out of the water by himself, so there was no need for your water-manipulation abilities anyway.

Despite your self-reassurances and the fact you should have been hightailing it out of there as fast as possible, uncertainty kept your feet rooted to the rotten wooden panels.

And so you kept watching, growing increasingly worried as Robin failed to keep his head outside of the water for more than a few seconds at a time.

You made it approximately thirteen seconds before saying ‘fuck it’ and stepping in, emerging from the shadows you had found refuge in just enough time get a good stance, planting your feet and raising your arms while letting your abilities reacquaint themselves with the water near you.

It was a fast affair, getting your powers to grasp at the water Robin was perturbing and pulling, violently yanking both the liquid and the boy out of the Harbor and onto the dock.

The vigilante gasped, gripping the material under him while hacking coughs wracked through his chest as he expelled the water from his human lungs.

You remained hovering above him, watching him, immensely glad the visible part of his face was regaining its normal colour instead of the red-purple it had previously been.

You had always looked upon Batman and Robin as pretty unapproachable, two beacons of justice and penance for Gotham’s criminals, who struck fear into even the most hardened thugs this rotten city had to offer.

But- but Robin was light to Batman’s darkness, and he always had a smile on his face in the grainy pictures that sometimes appeared in the newspaper, and if you focused your inhuman hearing on your surroundings late enough at night you could hear laughter mixing with the swoosh of the wind and the rustling of heavy fabric and the rhythmical zapping of a rope through the air.

And plus, Robin looked so human in this moment, so defenceless while he coughed his lungs out, that you just couldn’t reconcile the boy in front of you with the pillar of rambunctious justice fixed in your mind. And above all else, you couldn’t leave a human, one with so many enemies at that, alone while there was still the risk of him not being completely out of danger.

So you stayed.

You stayed, sat on an empty crate beside him, and kept vigilant with your enhanced senses to avoid any unwanted attention. As he calmed down he seemed to slowly gain awareness of his surroundings.

After what seemed like an eternity, he got his arms under him and slowly lifted himself up into a sitting position. That’s when he took notice of you, still watching him intently.

His eyes weren’t visible through the white-out lenses of his mask, but the way his forehead creased and his mouth opened a little more around his still heavy breaths made you able to accurately guess his surprise. “You- you just…what was-“

You interrupted him before he could keep voicing his question. “Look, just don’t tell the Bat about me and we’re good, okay? I really don’t need the trouble, plus you owe me one.”

Robin just kept looking at you, chest rising and falling with each deep breath, tiny shivers coursing through his soaking-wet form.

After a few beats that felt like eons, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” He half-gasped out, voice breathy with exertion. “Won’t tell a soul.”

His voice… it was achingly familiar.

You studied the unmasked portions of his face more closely, more attentively, your superhuman eyesight undisturbed by the darkness.

You were able to make out sun-kissed skin, soaked inky locks you fantasised about running your fingers through every day during chemistry, a defined jaw, high cheekbones and lips that pulled into semi-rare but blinding smiles. Lips you dreamed about kissing at night, while you lay on your bed thinking of your life.

You were sitting face-to-face with Dick Grayson. Robin.

You nodded, looking right into those white lenses. “Good.” At that, you looked around the empty area of the docks, spying the area sounds of fighting were coming from. “Well, I, uh, better go.”

You turned to him. “Try not to drown again, thanks.” And with that you stood.

Before walking away you turned around one last time, unable to stop yourself. “And, by the way, you stood me up for our chemistry study session. We’ll catch it up tomorrow.”

Before he could reply, you ran away from the docks and into Gotham Proper.

Gosh, you really were an idiot, weren’t you?

——————————

A/n: If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

[utopians]

PSYCHO NYMPH EXILE // A SACRED AND TERRIBLE AIR

transcripts in alt text and under the cut

[image 1: black text on white background reading, "They evacuate people through the night cities, trying to outstrip perceived horizons of disintegration. These relocation attempts break down as matter ceases to perform. Fuel is water and water is air. Walls are soft. Push a truck until the wheels slough off. Sit on the couch and watch people with a little more energy take your food."]

[image 2: black text on a sepia background reading, "Then, when the stars bend under the destruction falling from above, many can no longer take the phrase “the end of the world” entirely seriously. The panic has cooled. In the strange indifference of the evacuation, whole families stay behind in Vaasa. There they play board games, in their houses, in their spacious apartments. They love vitamin-rich food, and when the pale is only a few days away, it’s always signalled by the same beautiful event. Fruits go mouldy. It grows vigorously on them. Children listen to oranges crackling on the table. Spores sprout from the pulp, apples are hairy with it. If you try to touch them, they crack open. No one knows why it’s like that. But few can muster the energy to be afraid of that time, and that's why I say it's beautiful."]

[image 3: black text on a white background reading, "Vellus and Isidol loot a mansion, kicking through walls like sand. The owner is looking for them with a flashlight, listening for the vibration of their hearts transmitted through the hollow surfaces, hunting for ghosts. They run, bending the taffy bars of the fence.

They scored a jacket and some dehydrated fruit. They curl up together in a funicular stranded on a rusty rail, cozy metal box with ashen windows, seat cushions for pillows.]

[image 4: black text on a sepia background reading, "Nothing seems to stop future ecologically-oriented projects there either. In the very last months, when the pale is creeping across the ocean towards Vaasa, lobby groups against light pollution see their grand dream come true. Industrial and commercial buildings turn off artificial lighting at the end of the working day, and street lamps are shielded with special filters. As the first and last big city in the history of the world, Vaasa completely eliminates light pollution. This isn’t just a measure against bomb raids – it also saves birds who might otherwise get lost in the city's maze of lights, and harbour seals whose mating rhythms are disrupted when the day is too long. You may laugh at this, but in the evening, when the big world in the distance swells into a bloody maelstrom, families come out into the street in Vaasa and are insignificant together. Only distant explosions disturb the deep peace of the winter night, its flawless starry sky. Everyone watches, heads tilted back."]

[image 5: black text on a white background reading, "The sun shines like a sick moon.

Holding hands, feeling her thin and brittle wrist. Rubbing her palm nervously, like you always did, leaves flakes now, ashen thumbprints.

Vellus and Isidol are becoming part of the dust storm."]

[image 6: black text on a sepia background that reads, "Like everyone else, she can't do anything in this extended stay, where one’s sense of the present slowly drifts away. But whereas the others dissolve into their memories, she simply disappears. It’s as if her life had never happened. The past is not awaiting her return. She just wanders around the rooms, adjusts her grandmother's lace doily and bedspreads, arranges the curtains on the rails. And thus, tastefully, she refuses to indulge in those ecstasies which visit the human spirit when the world is disintegrating. Nothing leaves her hands, and nothing returns.

When Katla finally sinks into the pale, Ann-Margret Lund turns, without the slightest pleasure, into a protein mass."]

[fandomfluffandfuck]

ngl the way sebastian's hair looked at the american cinematheque event is what i would imagine it to look like after he gives head like it's all messy and disheveled & he's all glassy eyed & buzzing bc of the praise like oof i have some thoughts on thisss

related to this (also in gif form)

Liz 👏🏻 you're 👏🏻 so 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 right 👏🏻

It's the perfect kind of disheveled 😮‍💨😮‍💨 driving me absolutely insane because it's all I can think about since those photos first dropped

Like, just imagine--

The glittering, golden remnants of Chris' sinful praise still rings in Sebastian's ears even after Chris has long since stopped talking, filling the space instead with a whole lot of quiet, shallow panting. Nothing coherent. He's catching his breath after having it kicked--rather, more aptly sucked--from him.

All his praise is a honed dager slicing into Sebastian, cutting him into peices with arousal; lust flowing and flowing from the sharp-edged blade in until he's bleeding arousal out, too, not just rushing heat in his veins but outside his body, too, through the throbbing, perfect wound Chris leaves him with. Sebastian wishes he'd plunge deeper and twist. It feels so fucking good.

His words are always heavy, almost as titillating as touching itself--hands caressing, sliding, groping.

Chris had been saying lot of words, all of them cut through with groans and gasping swears about his "fuckin' mouth," and how "yes, yes, ohmygod, Seb, baby, that feels s'good," 'cause he's "too talented" at taking Chris' dick down his throat. Humming around it, swallowing, licking, and sucking when he can--when he's not just being used with it.

Pounded by it.

Deep.

Yeah, Jesus Christ, Sebastian's ears are ringing. And arousal and need still pollute his body along with the praise, opened by Chris' intrusion.

He's got more than that, too. It's an onslaught of sensation inside him. Nerves crackling, warmed enough to spit.

His knees ache, and so does his jaw. His eyes are glassy, leaving him to stumble through the blurry interior of their house, trying to fumble his way on watery knees to their bathroom, and, oh, somewhere, at some stretch of the hallway, it comes to his dulled attention that he's breathing harder than he thought he was.

Too, his body suddenly calls attention to his mouth. He was, abstractly, thinking of it and feeling it already, seeing as he's just been using it to tempt a rushing, tumbling orgasm from his boyfriend, but... It's less about his throat now. He was feeling it in his throat before. A little raw. A lot stretched. Now, he's oh-so aware of his lips. He doesn't need to see them to know that they're swollen, red, and wet. His crackling nerves can tell him that.

When he licks them, they're sensitive, all buzzing and tender, from the obscene abuse of being nothing but a hole for Chris to plunder. Ruin.

Sebastian shivers, sinking down an inch against the hallway wall before pulling himself together enough to stagger another step forward. His breathing is hard, jagged. If it were cold enough, he'd see big, heavy clouds of it hanging in front of his face. Jesus. Swallowing just makes every step harder. There's nothing he wants more than to give into the whimpering, neediest part of him that insists in his mind, throwing a fit, that he turn his ass right back around and crawl back to Chris. He wants him in his mouth again right now. He's too empty. He has so much cold, dull space in his mouth that could be hot and wet and full.

Fuck.

Chris should know better than to lay around their home in sweatspants with nothing on underneath, no matter if it's laundry day or not. Further, he should especially know not to do it on a day when Sebastian has a pre-determined, non-negotiable deadline for when he has to leave the house to go to an event he has to be there for. Sebastian isn't to blame! No way. It's not his fault. It's not a weak rebuttal. Nope. It's perfectly logical reaction--natural, even.

When Chris is manspreading, Sebastian loses all capability of looking ahead for possible consequences of sating his oral fixation. There is suddenly nothing but that need. His mouth: empty. Chris Evans: right there for the having. Filling. Who wouldn't lose it? Who, if they don't already have an oral fixation, wouldn't develop one from having regular, fantastic sex with none other than Christopher Robert Evans?

Another handful of not-straight steps journeying into the bathroom allows Sebastian the luxury of enough working braincells to try and straight his clothes, plucking and tugging them back into some kind of order, metaphorically dusting himself off after spending ten maybe fifteen minutes on their clean (other than the dog hair) living room floor. As he rearranges his clothes, Seb finds himself sure that the tell-all of his debauched, unable-to-be-helped behavior will be the line of his very erect cock pressing against his slacks and tenting them. That, or, it'll be the swollen, reddened pillows of his lips after being stretched around Chris' perfect, hard, fuckin' thick shaft, worshipping it the way it deserves. But--

Actually, wobbling into the bathroom on his fawn-like legs and pressing himself flat to the back of the door for some semblance of stability, and then turning his head to meet himself in the mirror, huh, he finds that the confession-giver is his hair.

The mop of his brown hair, previously styled to be slicked back, neat and out of his face, has been just as thoroughly defiled as the rest of him feels.

It's sticking up everywhere, obviously, thoroughly, gloriously fucked-up by none other than Chris Evans big... strong... thick hands. Hands that're good for petting... good for pulling... good for slapping... good for too many unspeakably filthy actions that cause Sebastian's tratorious fucking mouth to water embarrassingly. He can literally feel his salivary glands working. Tingling.

At the same time that he flushes with the sizzling hunger rising to the back of his throat, Seb realizes his reflection is gawking, mouth open.

He shuts his mouth with an audible click.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He sways forward, hands planting themselves palm-down on the counter top, leaning in harder, head hanging a little lower, just trying to fucking keep it together. Keep himself together. He can do this. He can gather himself enough to not look like an absolute slutty mess, discombobulated and spacey, when wandering outside. He needs a head on his shoulders to answer questions and to speak to fans. He, for once, won't look so lost. He'll, he's... he'll, yeah, he'll just splash some water on his face. Just. He immediately, desperately has to think of anything but Chris' fucking hands and how much he wants them pulling his hair and biting at his waist, bruising him with his fingertips, prying him open and writing his name inside him.

He, like, has to go. Now. Or he'll never leave. And he's already spent too long drifting--fantasizing with his eyes open about everything Chris can do to him, all the ways he cuts him open and lavishes him with pleasure--letting his thoughts carry him far, far away from the bathroom. So, Christ, now, he doesn't even have time to re-style his hair.

Chris is terrible, though, because he has no sympathy for Sebastian's absolute peril. He just chuckles, voice low, lips stretched in a lazy, handsome grin as he watches Seb stumble out the door, nearly forgetting his wallet and keys, from beneath heavy eyelids.

It's not his fault!

It's Chris'!

Love that I wasn't going to write anything for this, just a quick paragraph or two, and then it turned into that, haha. I just can't stop myself 😏

[tparker48]

Request from Anonymous

Evening had arrived as the streets of the neighborhood began to quiet down. Cars pulled into their driveways, people from inside heading into their homes. In a car resting inside a garage, would be a man named Hogan. He yawned as he got out of the car, tossing his safety cap to his workshop tool table near the front of his car. He dragged his feet toward the main door, and the cold breath of the air washed over him. The corners of his construction gear bulged into his arm pits, the sound of tears seething from his shoulders. He lowered his bag toward the wall, and his body became lighter, like a boulder had just been lifted from his back.

“One down, now I just gotta get these..” He sucked in his gut, grabbing the zipper of his uniform as his stomach bounced across his waistline. Sawdust splashing into the air, casting its particles into the sunlight as they danced from the laundry room window. He took to his pants, and let out a satisfied grunt as he kicked his boots off. “That’s better.”

He kicked the leathery shoes next to the washer machine, tossing his clothes into the opening as he walked bare into the living room. He grabbed his headset from the living room table and put them on. He crashed to his stomach on the floor, his console turning on along the shelf. After hours of work, what better way to unwind than through quality gaming.

He crashed to his stomach on the floor, his console turning on along the shelf. "Let's see what the boys are up to on deathwatch."

He flipped through the screen to his game, turning on his microphone as he searched through the lobby.

—--------

An hour had gone by since Hogan started to relax, enjoying the peace of enjoying the peace of with his online friends. The screen flashed with chaos as effects danced around the frame, Hogan’s call outs booming through the acoustic’s of the living room. But  another chaos brewed in the shadows, as a small pair of eyes peeked from the folds of a crumpled towel. Inside, would be Peppe, staring at his hubby’s backside.

“He’s finally home.” he said, a low giggle escaping from him. “Took longer than expected, but at least it gave me time to prepare.”

He dug into his pocket and fetched a tiny piece of gum, unwrapping its plastic blanket as it overtook his chest. He folded into a cubed shaped ball, and chewed at its end until the entire thing fit into his mouth. He savored the fruity flavor filling his mouth as he slinked out from beneath the towel, the smell of gas fumes polluting the air as the giant soles raked through the fibers of the carpet. 

He crept faster, the path narrowing as it centered toward Hogan. A mountain of hairy muscle rose before him, the elastic fabric over the mounds spreading atop like a blanket of snow.  After many times of venturing to his ass, he got tired of the view. It reminded him of being on an island, guarded by a musky volcano as it swayed overhead. He’d think he’d feel bad pranking his hubby all the time, but damn did it feel good to watch him squirm. And with an opportunity like this, it was too good to pass up.

He approached the crease between Hogan’s legs, the lining of crack rocketing over the bubbled ridge. He stepped upon the bulk of his crotch, sweat oozing from its surface like a leaking sponge. Must’ve been working hard out there on the construction, he thought, even after an hour of cooling still his backside was wet.

“Typical, Hogan. Big guy’s certainly not making it easy.” he rolled his eyes, gripping into the white fabrice along the left leg.

He clung to the bushed of hair, pushing into the thick borders sealing the mounds inside. His foot creased into a loose fold, warmth from beneath the fabric against as the smell of fresh sweat poured into his nose. He puffed his nose to ease its stinging sensation, continuing his climb aboard the mounds.

Sausage fingers reached from the other mound, piercing the lining of his crack Peppe dragged to the center. “Damn sweat’s going in the wrong places.” Hogan said, sliding his now glistening palm from the crack.

"Easy horsie, can't have your rider bucking off with the reins." Peppe whispered.  

He climbed to the top of Hogan’s ass and caught a glimpse of the horizon. A slope met before him as it climbed to a meaty neck above, the Tv screen flashing behind Hogan’s frenzied hair. He cherished the view for a moment before digging through his pocket, pulling a bulky string from inside. He opened his mouth and stuck the end of the string against the sticky mass, molding it with his tongue to ensure it was secure.

 Phase one of his great prank was complete, now it was time for the main event.

He approached the top of the elastic fabric, peeling a corer for himself as he tucked his feet inside. He shimmied himself between the mounds, watching the warm flesh rise as they spilled over his chest. Hogan’s fingers returned, stamping just a foot from Peppe as it stirred in place. 

“That works.” He said, shimmying the rest of his body as he slipped beneath the surface.

 The damp fingers wagged above as he dove into the mounds, flesh molding his body as they swallowed the light. Strands of hair snagged at his limbs, the scent of dry cement reaping his nostrils as sweat dashed into his clothes. After all was said and done, he had to remind Hoga to take a shower. Any more scents added to his musk and he’d be a walking gas station. The hairs thickened as they spread into him like a brush, revealing a red puckered star as it winked with sweat. It blew kisses as Peppe wisped past its folds, cushioning at the bottom as his foot sank between two soft boulders. 

“Target acquired,” He spat the gum from his mouth. “and just enough hair to strap on.”

He placed the wad against the ridge of the hair taint, cherry picking bunched hair as he molded them into the gum like clay. Hogan’s  legs shuffled, scooping Peppe close as he planted against the warm testicles.  

"What’s this guy teabagging for? Our team won that fair and square! Let me get a crack at him, I'll give him some nuts he can teabag!"

“As competitive as ever” Peppe mumbled, peeling from the damp skin. He spun a portion of the string to anchor Hogan’s hairs. They sprawled out like a row of vines, their sweat soaked surface brushing against him as if it were a paint brush. Before long, the task was complete, hairs wrapping around the gum as if they were holding it up. “Like a bouquet of smelly vines.” he patted at the top of the gum.

He crawled toward the bottom of Hogan's balls, the dampened fabric appearing as it stretched behind him. Peppe followed its path until it curved upward, taking to the thick hairs covering the mounds as he crawled back the way he came.  They slid through his fingers, his body cast back down as he tumbled into the mustache covering his anus. Its bristles tickled his nose as he swatted them away, grabbing a handful in a bunch as he climbed up its length. 

“Yeah that’s right, take all these nuts!”Hogan roared, his own thighs moving as the sac below squished into the fabric. 

Peppe fought its sway, gripping harder at the strands of hair as he reached  toward the slanted lighting of the crack. He slithering his palm back into the cool world of the living room, shimmying the rest of him through the caked mounds before Pulling the rest of the rope out of his pocket.

“Alright..that’s my workout for today.” Peppe wheezed.

 He climbed back to the top of Hogan’s waist, and looked to his head. Still he faced the Tv screen, even after traveling through his underwear. Just what he was expecting, and now it was time to retrieve the fruits of his labor. Wrapped the end of the rope around his wrist, the line straightening as it darted beneath the fabric like an anchor.

“Oh ho, prepare for a sting of your life Hogan.”

"Well done guys, we managed to pass that squad without setting them off. Too bad we can’t say the same for you..”the mute icon appeared on the side of the screen,Hogan batting an eye backwards. “..Peppe.” 

He froze at his words. “Huh?!”

 the string tightened as he yanked him beneath the underwear, like a fish caught on a hook as he burrowed through the mound of flesh. The dimmed space greeted him once more, his face dragged along the hairs resting in the bubbled valley. From what took minutes turned to mere seconds as he was dragged beneath the bulk of the testicles, fingers fiddling at the string as if it were a spider retracting its web. His back clung to the wad of gum at the taint, the fingers taking to his side as they jammed him beneath the muscular boulders. He gritted beneath its weight, the clammy skin spooning his ears as they acted as restraints on his head.

The ground shifted as  fingers pulled the waistband apart, Hogan’s face peering inside. "What do we have here, a munchkin taking a dip in my underwear."

Peppe shuffled a fold from his mouth. "What gave me away?"

"Come now, as many times as you explored my body, don't you think I would know if something complex was in the way?" He dwindled a finger through his pubes decorating the round spheres between his legs, swirling a patch of Peppe’s into the mix. "Hair pulling. Tsk, you gotta do better than that, dumpling."

"What can I say? It's a classic."

"Uh huh, charming. You know you're getting  punished for this right? I missed a lot of shots because of your meddling. Naught, naughty." He squeezed his legs together, Peppe’s lips smacking as they puckered like a fish. "Unfortunately we’re still in a game, so consider this a taste of what’s to come."

His smile disappeared as the waistband clamped at his waist, a gust of musk washing into Peppe before the thighs shifted, and  Hogan’s weight pushed at his back. "Hubby! Come on, you can’t be made at this face. You can’t do this to your dump-" a solid surface cushioned his chin, the bulk of the giant testicles plonking atop his head. “pling..”

A soft chuckle vibrated the walls. "Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy, hun. No matter how adorable that face is."

Taking the slow route huh? Just like him to toy with him slowly. Peppe rolled his eyes forward,wiggling his head to relieve pressure from his chin. Sloshing muffled from the orbs cupping his face, like giant silos filled to the brim with water. Its body heat grew hotter as its muscle flexed, the shaft knocking out of place as it drooled into the white fabric. He was getting off at my capture, and he called him the naughty one.

But even caught, he wasn’t going to give up just yet. He shifted his gaze into one of the orbs, inhaling the dried sweat coating the skin as he leaned his fingers to his jacket. He pulled the bottom of the fabric from his pants, shedding from its layer as he pressed it into the clammed ceiling. He gazed into the maw of the musky cave, the loose skin sagging as if were going to collapse. 

 There wasn’t enough room to pull the string, but he wasn’t without options as he looked to the flexing muscle.  He laid upon his back, taking a handful of the soft skin as he pulled himself upward. The humidity between was rough feet, his skin skidding against Hogan’s as it peeled off like a sticker. The skin only grew firm as he reached the stem of Hogan’s cock, its barreled underbelly cushioning his chin. After moments of climbing, he sighed as the ever growing pressure slipped from his feet, the bag of sac collecting as the length of the shaft rested upon him.

He planted his feet upon the balls, and Hogan shifted. "What are you doing down there?"

"Putting my plan into motion. I'm gonna make you submit to your dumpling!" Peppe declared.

"Sure. And just how are you going to do that."

A smile crept along Peppe’s face, a foot peeling from one of the testicles. "Creativity." He spread his toes across the bulging testicle, and wiggled them into the tender muscle. He added his other foot, and pressed it to the other as he marched over them. 

A groan rumbled through the air, a thigh thrusting and a clunk came from outside. “Mmm..kneading my balls huh? Bold, I’ll give you that, but it's gonna take more than a few foot rubs to get me to cave.”

"That's for sure. This is just the appetizer." He cradled his limbs to the corner of the member, holding it against his body as if it were a body pillow. He worked himself beneath its underbelly to the top of the shroomed head. Its flesh radiated with warmth greater than the balls below, a salty stream spilling upon his shoulder as it guzzled from the slit. He ringed his fingers between its lips, the stream widening as it spilled at his neck. "You know the thing about being small? You can reach just about anywhere?"

He wiggled a palm over the slit, and jammed it inside. Its creamy fluid lubricated his arm, driving it to his shoulder as the lips clamped onto his shoulder like a sleeve. He plunged his other hand inside, and began to twist them through  the soggy folds as it trailed through the tight opening of the shaft.

Hogan’s body bucked, a sharp moan piercing the air as the sounds of buttons clacked from above "Oh..ff.."

Peppe's eyes became starry eyed. "Gotcha now."

He wormed more of his body toward the front of the underwear’s pouch, clinging his feet to the puffed edges as they peeled the hood away. The muffled grunts turned to purrs, Hogan’s entire waist beginning to thrash as if it were in a trap.

"Still thinking about surrendering?" Peppe giggled with excitement, grinding his elbows to circle the rest of his arms between the tight tube.

A digital voice announced that the game paused, the sound of a controller toppling to the side. "Give me 2 minutes,boys." Hogan's voice boomed, the space shifting as. Gravity tossed Peppe atop the bulging cock.

The inner tube tightened his arms like a vice, its girth nudging between his legs. The fabric yanked off and light blurred his vision, forcing Peppe to wince as his eyes raced to adjust. His gaze eventually relaxed, As Hogan’s met his, peering from the mountainous torso  high above.

"Now you done it, dumpling. You managed to make me cave?”

"I did? I mean yeah, I did! Take that, Hubby.” He declared, but looked up to a smile peering across his face. “You uh..you aren’t mad are you?”

“Me? Not all. In fact, I'm ecstatic.”

“You..are?”

“Yeah..” He replied. A palm raised beneath him, clasping at the center of the shaft. It pumped at a steady pace, getting stronger as it gripped at Peppe’s arms. “I get to do punishment early.”

Oh shit. Peppe tugged at his arms to get them free, shimmying his shoulders to lighten the pressure, but a suction locked them down, the cock’s throat pulsing as they tucked his arms together. Fingers curled around his back, hoisting his lower half into the center as it tilted toward the cock slit. He wrestled between the thick fingers, a thumb pressing his head into the lips as they  gummed the sides of his cheek.

The thumb trailed over his neck to the rest of his body, plunging Peppe deeper into the urethra. He was caught in the pull of the suction inside, guiding him through the tight crawlway of the tube as seed lathered into his side like lotion. The tender walls manhandled his body, thrashing him about in its attempts to gobble him up. The lips slipped higher, funneling to the tips of his toes as he sunk deeper. The cool air left from his feet, and the shaft became alive as its walls tenderized his body.

Outside, a lump traversed through the cock's underbelly bulging, sliding down at snail's pace as it flattened against Hogan’s twisting palm. He gritted his teeth, pumping harder to knock the protruding bulge from its spot as he massaged its soft ridges as it parted the walls inside. It bobbed over the base of his shaft, a finger tilting it for Hogan to see for himself. With a simple clench, the bulge launched and it plunged past the surface of his crotch, its form wisping through his inside as it curled down to the meaty low hangers throbbing below.

The World was dimmer in this region of Hogan’s body, the waves of muscle squeezing him like toothpaste through the tubes. He couldn’t move his body, his blood rushing to his head as he tried to face upward. He doubted it’d help with the surrounding fluid, gunks of slated goo lathered his face, sending his senses ablaze as his head began to swirl. The wall hugged closer as an opening arrived, his head smothered as  more salty fumes spewed into him like a ventilated shaft. 

He found himself in a round chamber, white goo secreting from the walls as they collected into a large body at the bottom of the fleshy dome. 

"Your balls?” He shouted, the sphincter encircling his neck. “Who shoves their love life into their balls?"

“Consider it a special treatment just for you. I was going to just shove you into one of my boots, but then you went and got me hard.”

Lumps caved from the walls, and the chamber became slanted. The white goo rose like a roaring tide, submerging Peppe’s head beneath its surface. It shrouded like a fog, the pink walls near him blurring with white smudges.

“Quite the load isn’t it dumpling? All thanks to you.” 

the tight tube squeezed at his body, rocketing him into the milky mess as he flailed to the surface. He inhaled the tainted air, splashing to keep himself afloat. "Okay, foul play! You’re playing dirty, how am I supposed to have fun in here?"

“Sorry, hun, that’s not my problem. You’ll just have to sit in timeout like a good boy.”

 The chamber flipped once more, spiraling Peppe  from wall to wall as if it were a tube mixer. He felt nauseous as he dunked and emerged from its gooey surface, his efforts to cease derailed as his palmed slid from the soft wall. It was only when the pool flipped to the ceiling did the swirls cease, and it crashed atop of him.

Hogan’s laugh vibrated the walls, crusts forming into the seed as it rocked in place.. "Ready to call it quits?" 

"You..can't possibly think..I'd give up after that." Peppe panted, his head spinning amongst the seed.

"Yeah I thought not, you’re too stubborn for that. Ah well, perhaps a little marinating will teach you to behave yourself." The chamber swayed as steps rang through the walls, the fluid jumping as it crashed upon a solid surface. "I'm back boys, what I miss?"

Peppe groaned as Hogan faced his attention elsewhere, his head bobbing against the milky waves as he tilted to the ceiling. He looked to the shriveled star in the ceiling, seed squeezing from its folds like a wet rag. That was his way out of this filled chamber, but it was too out of reach to grasp. He pawed at the doughy walls for leverage, hoisting upon the soft lumps to escape the milky pond. But their surface melted upon contact, spilling him into the seed once more.

“This is getting me nowhere, how’s a guy supposed to move when everything around you is muscle?” He tried again to reach for a fold, its surface slipping into the fluid as it glossed the wall beneath.

A moan erupted from above, the walls caving as waves splashed him in its epicenter. He resurfaced, looking to the walls as they battered the fluid along his borders. “He felt that?” He puzzled, swimming to the wall behind him. 

He smeared a layer of gunk from the lumpy surface, cupping his palm to split its flow to the rest of the seed. When clear pink muscle appeared, he pressed his fingertips into the soft wall, twisting it as it sunk breath its surface.

The walls shook again, and Hogan’s moans returned. When it finally settled, a smile crept upon his face. To think Hubby’s sweet spot would be right at the source of it all.  He swam closer to the wall, tapping his foot at the submerged flesh. When soft ground touched his toes, he shifted his legs into a running motion, his feet pattering against the muscular wall.

A sharp moan echoed the walls, Waves splashing in the seed. "What are you doing now?" Hogan's voice muffled.

"Improvising." he turned himself toward the wall of flesh, grabbing a handful as seed lubricated his hands. The chamber unraveled, globs of gunk slamming against the opposite wall as it crashed at the ceiling before it pattered onto his shoulders.

Hogan’s grunts turned to whimpers as the folds compressed and expanded,it battered its contents. "Stop being.. a brat." he strained, the walls beginning to pulse..

The seed’s current grew stronger, sweeping Peppe from the walls as he swirled around the rim.The walls compressed, and the ceiling closed in as the sphincter spasmed in place.

"Almost there, just one more push.." he assured himself, clinging to the corner of the folds to continue his efforts.

 The once spacious chamber shrunk to the size of a quarter, a mere gap separating Peppe from the chamber’s quivering lips. He massaged its folds to the best of his ability, the substance overtaking his arms as they splashed about his wrist. The walls squeeze closer as the fluid reached his chin, forcing him to tuck his nose close to the salty folds. 

"Here goes nothing." he managed to muster, taking a breath as he kissed into the center of the sphincter.

He sunk beneath the seed’s surface, suspended in the middle of the sac as the walls surrounding him became restless. Hogan’s grunt's grew louder, distorted as they became strained. Hard thumps shook the chamber, and the star above winked before it opened its entrance like a floodgate. A suction dragged at his body, pulling him against the widening entrance. Its lips barely passed his shoulder, the current flowing through his armpit as he held his breath.

A watery slosh echoed the chamber, before Hogan’s roar overwhelmed it.

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

Hogan’s body tensed, the controller in his hand slipping to the pocket of the couch. He stared weakly at his seed soaked palm, its grip still stroking his shaft as his hips bucked. "Can’t.. Hold it in..I.." he choked on his words, his head launching back into the cushion of his sofa. 

His hips locked, and seed erupted from his cock. Its warm fluid flowed like lava from an active volcano, a creamy stream filling his shorts as another drenched the corners of the chamber. He huffed as he regained control of his body, looking down to his member. its meaty length throbbed against his inner thigh, satisfied as it returned to its flaccid state.

In his weak stare, he looked to his bulging sac, the swollen orbs drooping over the side of the couch. "You kinky bastard.." he huffed softly, staring at the right nut that rocked slowly.

Inside, the pond had all but drained from inside the chamber, reduced to a hollow husk as fluid dressed the walls in webs. Stuck against the ceiling, Peppe remained, smothered by a wad of gunk as it dripped to the bottom of the chamber.

"I told ya..I wasn't finished." He smiled weakly, peeled from the ceiling as if he were a sticker. The chamber softened his fall, as it rocked slowly.. "How'd your game go?"

Hogan looked toward the screen, bits of his fluid dripping from the corners of the frame. Banter boomed from the microphone, gamertags from both his team and the opposite team flashing,

"Eh, they’ll.” he said. "Really wanted to get that streak. Was gonna get it too, until a twerp decided to get frisky.

"oo bummer." Peppe said. “Guess it goes to show you can’t shove something in your balls and not expect consequences.”

A flick shook the testicle. "Don't be so high and mighty, Dumpling. You're still in punishment time. But since you saved me the trouble of unloading in there, it’s only fair you do your part in making it.”

“You want me to make the pool all over again, didn’t you just climax?” Peppe asked, picking up a soft huff from the walls. “Wait a second, you’re not trying to get me to build up all that just for you to enjoy it personally?”

“I..I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s simply a fitting punishment for a brat like you.” he said. “Just be sure to rub them deep. So..so I’ll know if you’re doing your task.”

Peppe places his hands at his hips. “Uh huh, sure.” he traveled through the mush  of seed toward the wall, reaching at a palm as he scratched at its surface. The chamber jostled in place, heavy thumps returning as they shook the walls.

“Oo..just a little to the right..”

“Do you want me to pleasure you with both my hands, Hogan?”

“Yeah..Er! I mean no-”

“Hah, gotcha. You’re totally into this!”

“Why you little-..this is supposed to be punishment. You’re not supposed to be enjoying this!”

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere. If I’m gonna be put to work, I might as well have fun with it, right? Oo! Now that I think about it, this space is just enough to bounce around it.”

“Dumpling, I forbid you to even try- Mm! No stop-mm..eassy in there!”

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Nature Walk! Everything's Fine AU Episode 4!

“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!” Amanda beams, waving to the audience. 

“And I’m Wooly!” Wooly smiles, bouncing up and down. She and Wooly are standing outside a car as Sam is behind them putting things inside it. 

“Have you gone outside at all recently? Breathed some fresh air?” Amanda asks the screen, taking in a deep breath. Sam immediately whips his head around with concern. Amanda starts coughing. Wooly grimaces. 

“Kinda hard with all the pollution in the city lately…” Wooly mumbles sadly. “Mom keeps telling us to stay inside…”

“Preeeecisely! Which is why our local librarian Kate is taking all of us on a Nature Walk in a nature conservation area SEVERAL miles away! Wooly’s mom is busy,” Amanda explains. Wooly looks away awkwardly. ”So Dad’s driving all of us!”

“Me too! Me too!” Fleecy says jumping up and down.

“Yes Fleecy, you too…” Wooly says, patting her on the head. The episode suddenly cuts to them arriving at the nature conservation area.

“Bye Dad! See ya later.” Amanda beams waving as she quickly jumps out of the car and runs to her friends, who are all chatting by the big map. 

“Have fun!” Sam smiles, waving back. 

“Thanks for the drive Mr. Colton…” Wooly says. 

“Anytime Wooly.” 

“Here Fleecy, take my hand and jump.” 

“No! I can do it all by myself!” Fleecy insists, before immediately jumping out of the car and falling on her face. Wooly facepalms. Fleecy seems completely unbothered by this fall, she immediately gets up and runs over to Joanne and Jordan. 

“Wait Fleecy! Bug spray!” Wooly calls out, running after her. Sam laughs and shakes his head. Riley walks over. 

“Hey, can I ride back with you?” 

“You aren’t going to stick around?” Sam asks. 

“And waste this perfect opportunity? Sam. The kids are distracted!” 

“I mean, yeah. But can Kate handle all of the neighborhood kids by herself? I’m a little worried…” Sam mumbles, tapping his chin. “They tend to be very energetic after all…” 

“She can handle it! She's not the head librarian for nothing! Now hurry up, let's go! I got something to show you!” Riley pushes Sam back towards the car. 

“Hold on… Amanda!” Sam calls out. Amanda perks up and immediately runs back over. “Don’t forget your lunch. Be sure to have fun out there, alright?” 

“Oh I will!” Amanda grins. Then she gives her dad a big hug. 

“And be good for Ms. Kate, okay?” Sam whispers. 

“Oh please! When have I not been good?” Amanda smirks. 

“That’s true.” Sam says, patting her head. 

“Don’t worry Dad! I got it all under control! I am an adventurer after all!” 

“Yes you are!”

“Alright Dad I love you that means you can go now!” Amanda laughs. 

“Love you too. I’ll come pick you up later…” 

“See ya later squirt!” Riley says, pointing finger guns at her. 

“You’re not staying?” Amanda asks sadly. 

“Nah I got some work to do.” Riley replies. Amanda shrugs and waves to her father one last time before returning to her friends. “Now let’s get this show on the road! Whoop! Whoop!” Sam rolls his eyes. 

“Okay… so we have Amanda, Wooly, Fleecy, Jordan, Kitty, Dolly, and Gretchen. Now… where’s Riley?” Kate mumbles. 

“Riley went home with Dad!” Amanda answers. 

“Of course they did.” Kate grumbles, shaking her head. “Alright let’s do the buddy system. Everybody pair up!” 

“Hey Amanda can we-” 

“Amanda let’s be buddies!” Kitty suggests. 

“Oooooh! Yeah that sounds fun!” Amanda beams. Wooly’s ears lower in disappointment. 

“Fleecy?” he turns and sees she’s already paired up with Jordan. “Oh… um…” he looks around anxiously. 

“Amanda and Kitty… Fleecy and Jordan… Dolly and Gretchen… oh! Wooly… do you not have a buddy?” Kate asks softly. Wooly nods. “Well you can be my buddy, how’s that sound?” Wooly looks at the ground. 

“I wanna go home…” he pouts, kicking a stone. 

“Co-come on Wooly don’t be like that!” Kate laughs nervously. “We haven’t even started yet!” 

“Amanda! Amanda! The chicks are getting bigger!” Kitty says. “You really should come over and see sometime!” 

“Oh definitely! I’ll ask my Dad!” Amanda replies. Wooly’s ears perk up. 

“Can I come too?” he asks eagerly. 

“Of course!” Kitty beams. Wooly starts bouncing up and down excitedly. “You really like those chicks, don’t you, Wooly?” he nods rapidly. 

“They’re so cute!” 

“Wooly’s being a big dork again!” Jordan calls out. 

“When is that not true!” Fleecy giggles. Wooly buries his face in his ears. 

“Now kids, that's not very nice…” Kate says gently. Fleecy rolls her eyes. 

“Mommy says it all the time so it’s fine!” Fleecy explains. Wooly’s eyes widen. “In fact, I’m pretty sure she says way-” 

“Fleecy! Quiet!” he snaps.

“Yeah seriously you two are being such bullies!” Amanda pouts. “Keep it up, and I’ll make it so Wooly can never play with you again!” 

“Amanda…” Wooly squeaks, “is that a threat?” 

“Wha? Wooly, why are you scared?” 

“Well it sounded kind of ominous…” Kitty admits. “Like you were going to break his leg or kill him or something!” 

“No, I just meant he’d stay at my house all the time and I wouldn’t let him go home!” 

“So… kidnapping?” Dolly grimaces. 

“Fun!” Gretchen smiles.

“Honestly that doesn’t sound half-bad…” Wooly mumbles. Fleecy gasps dramatically and she grabs onto Wooly’s leg. “Hey! Fleecy let go!” 

“NO! You can’t have my brother!” Fleecy shouts. Wooly smiles. 

“It’s okay Fleecy, we're only teasing you.” Wooly chuckles. 

“Te-teasing?” Fleecy frowns. 

“Yeah Fleecy, they're just messing with you!” Jordan says. Fleecy scowls and immediately lets go, promptly walking back to Jordan. 

“You can keep him.” she pouts. Wooly’s jaw drops. 

“She’s getting rid of meeeee…” Wooly whimpers. Amanda pats him on the back. 

“There there Wooly I’ll never get rid of you.” she says. 

“You mean it?” 

“Of course! Ah, I know! Why don’t you join our group! We’ll be a trio!” 

“I won’t be in the way?” 

“Never! C’mon!” Amanda beams, grabbing Wooly’s hand. “We’ll be the leaders!” 

“What? Why do you get to be the leaders?” Jordan protests. 

“Because there are three of us!” Amanda concludes. Kitty nods.

“I should be the leader because I know the most about flowers and plants!” Gretchen announced. 

“Wait! Gretchen! We should be the caboose and make sure no one gets left behind! I’m really good at keeping watch!” Dolly suggests.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Jordan snickers. 

“Caboose? Are we on a train? Jordan! Are we on a train?!” Fleecy says excitedly, shaking Jordan around. 

“Oooooh. She gets it from you I see…” Kitty remarks to Wooly, who starts laughing a bit. Fleecy looks at them and then to Jordan who says nothing. 

“Okay everyone! Let’s go on our walk!” Kate announces. Everyone cheers and starts walking. 

“Oh look, it's a robin!” Kitty points out, “I always liked the color of their eggs!” 

“I wonder if we’ll see any pigeons!” Wooly remarks. Amanda and Kitty both look at him with crinkled faces. “What?” 

“Wooly this is the woods-” 

“Yeah maybe we’ll see one!” Amanda snickers, elbowing Kitty. Kitty sighs and shakes her head. 

“I wanna see a… a dinosaur!” Fleecy announces, holding her arms out wide to show the dino’s big size.

“Fleecy, you can’t see dinos in the woods! Dino’s live in the deserts! We might see some monkeys though!” 

“Ooooh Amanda look! Clovers!” Wooly points out. 

“Don’t touch those! It’s poison ivy! Look at the three leaves!” Dolly shouts, shoving Wooly directly into a bush. Gretchen smacks her forehead. 

“We really should get these kids in school…” Kate sighs, shaking her head. The episode cuts to a montage of the kids enjoying their time on the hike. Seeing different birds, plants, and animals. They stop at the top of a big hill and eat lunch. 

“What? But we didn’t pack lunch!” Wooly gasps, tugging his ears. 

“Don’t worry Wooly! My dad packed some for you guys too! I stuck it in my backpack!” Amanda announces proudly, handing him a lunch bag labeled “Wooly” 

“What would we do without your dad?” Wooly sighs happily.

“Hate each other for eternity? I don’t know.” Amanda shrugs. Wooly looks at her with confusion. Amanda shrugs again and hands Fleecy her sandwich. She takes a big bite out of it and recoils, sticking out her tongue. 

“Ew! Peach jam?! Gross!” 

“Fleecy, you love peach jam, it's literally all you eat.” Wooly groans. 

“B-but this doesn’t taste the same as the kind Mom uses!” 

“That’s because Dad bought it fresh from Kitty’s farm!” Amanda announces. Wooly takes a bite. 

“Wow… it really is fresh! Mr. Colton is so nice!” Wooly says. Amanda nods proudly. 

“Well it’s disgusting!” Fleecy snaps. “Fleecy, you are being very rude!” Wooly retorts. She sticks out her tongue at him. 

“Fleecy come on it can’t be that bad…” Jordan mumbles. Fleecy sighs and takes another bite and another… scowling the whole time. 

“Once everyone finishes their lunch, I brought cupcakes!” Kate announces. Suddenly Fleecy attempts to shove the entire sandwich into her mouth. 

“Fleecy don’t do that you’ll choke!” Wooly gasps. 

“Stop worrying about her so much, Wooly, just have fun!” Kitty smiles, sneaking up behind Wooly and putting her hands on his shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

“Bu-but!” 

“Yeah Wooly! Enjoy the view!” Amanda says. Kitty starts rummaging through her little satchel. She grins. 

“In fact, let’s take a picture in front of it with my brand new Kiddie Camera!” Kitty announces. Amanda and Wooly’s eyes widen in awe. “Ms. Kate! Ms. Kate! Can you take our picture?” 

“Oh that’s a good idea Kitty, I should get a picture of all of you to send to your parents afterwards as well!” Kate beams. She tries to get all the kids together for the photo. “Amanda, stop putting bunny ears behind Wooly…” Wooly immediately gasps and glares at Amanda who quickly hides her hand behind her back and makes an innocent expression. “Jordan, Fleecy, stop making weird faces. Everyone smile, we’ll take a silly photo afterward… Wooly… Wooly come on please smile. Dolly eyes over here-” Kate sighs and smiles. “I’m giving you to the count of three and whatever the camera catches is what you’re stuck with alright? 1, 2, 3! Now let’s have some cupcakes!” 

“What if I blinked?” Wooly worries. 

“Amanda did bunny ears again.” Kitty tells him. 

“Tattle-tail!” Amanda retorts. 

“Amanda!” Wooly gasps. The three notice that everyone got back to the picnic blanket before them, and they all rush to sit down. Kate hands out the cupcakes and the children all happily enjoy them. 

“Haha! Fleecy you have frosting on your nose!” Wooly chuckles. Fleecy pouts, takes some frosting off her cupcake and sticks it on Wooly’s nose. Amanda laughs so Wooly takes some frosting and sticks it on her nose. 

“Oooh! My turn my turn!” Kitty exclaims. 

“Yeah no fair I want some too!” Jordan complains. “The cupcakes go in your mouths, not all over your faces!” Kate reminds them.

“Yes Ms. Kate.” the kids say in unison, a couple of them groaning. After everyone finishes their cupcakes, they head back down the trail. 

“Hey Fleecy and Jordan have been kind of quiet huh?” Amanda points out. 

“Quiet? Uh-oh that’s never good!” Wooly says nervously looking around. Fleecy suddenly appears behind them. 

“Look at this cool snake we found!” Fleecy beams as Jordan sticks up a snake wrapped around his arm. They chase the other kids down the trail with it as Kate chases them trying to get the snake out of their possession. 

“Dolly, I made you this bead necklace, I hope you like it!” Gretchen says, handing Dolly the bracelet as they peacefully trail behind the chaos. 

“Aw Gretchen I love it!” Dolly frantically looks around and picks a yellow flower, “here, for you!” 

“Awwww Dolly, that's my favorite flower! Thank you!” Gretchen beams, clapping her hands together. Kate finally catches the snake and sets it free. 

“Awww… that was fun though…” Amanda sighs. 

“I thought it was going to kill meeeee!” Wooly cries. Amanda gently pats his back. 

“Hey Wooly, one of our pigs had babies recently. I got pictures saved on my camera, wanna see?” Kitty asks. Wooly immediately scoots in right next to her with big round sparkling eyes. Amanda rummages through her back and finds a little something… 

“Hey Jordan… Fleecy… look what I found…” Amanda grins wickedly, placing it on Fleecy’s shoulder. 

“SPIDER!” Fleecy screams at the top of her lungs. Jordan takes the spider and chucks it out of view before they run away. 

“My plastic spider…” Amanda says sadly. 

“I’ll get you another one…” Kate sighs. The rest of the walk goes smoothly and the group has a lot of fun chatting with each other, so the walk is over before they know it. Amanda runs over the moment she sees Sam standing outside the car and gives him a big hug. 

“Hey kiddo, how was it?” 

“It was a BLAST! We had such a great time!” Amanda grins. 

“Yeah? How about you Wooly, did you have fun?” he asks. 

“Yeah it was the best! Kitty told us so much about animals! Apparently pigeons don’t live in the woods!” 

“You… thought they did before?” Sam asks, sounding a little concerned. Amanda starts laughing. “And Fleecy, did you have a good time?” 

“Yeah, you can go home without me. I’m going home with Jordan!” Fleecy announces.

“No you’re not!” Wooly retorts. Fleecy’s lower lip starts quivering. 

“Unfortunately Fleecy, your Mommy says you have to come home with us, but I can let her know you want to have a playdate sometime. How does that sound?” 

“Okay…” Fleecy pouts.

“Alright Kate! I got the kids, we’re going home now!” 

“Got it!” Kate calls out. Sam turns to Riley, who is still in the front seat. 

“Thanks for all your help today, Riley.” 

“No problem.” Riley shrugs. They don’t move. Sam taps his foot. 

“We’re going home now.” 

“Okay.” 

“That means you need to get out of my car.” 

“Can’t I ride home with you?” 

“I already told you no.” 

“Ooooh he’s using the dad voice!” Amanda whispers to Wooly. 

“Come on Sam please? Kate is hell when she’s mad!” Riley begs. 

“Not in front of the kids-” Sam stops and takes a deep breath before releasing a disappointed sigh. “That’s not my problem Riley. Get out of the car.” 

“Fiiiine.” Riley sighs leaving the car. “See ya kids!” 

“Bye Riley!” Amanda beams. 

“Don’t make Kate mad next time, alright?” Wooly suggests, scratching his arm. Amanda looks over at him a tad bit worriedly. 

“Are you okay there kid?” Riley questions. 

“It’s just really itchy…” 

“I told you that bush had poison ivy in it!” Amanda replies. 

“Oh for the love of-” Sam groans.

“Well have fun with that Sam!” Riley laughs nervously, quickly walking back over to Kate.  

“Ditching me to hang out with Sam I see?” Kate mumbles. 

“I wasn’t going to let him do all that work alone Kate!” Riley replies. 

“Oh but you’ll let me work all alone? I see how it is.” Kate says jokingly before lightly punching Riley’s arm. “I’m just kidding! I knew you were going to do that!” 

“You know, you and Sam could’ve done the work and I could’ve played with the kids.” Riley shrugs. 

“Haha. Absolutely not.”  “Hey!” Riley calls out. The credits roll and the episode ends. Next time on Amanda The Adventurer, two new friends move into the neighborhood!

Authors Note: Don't ask me what the pollution bit was SUPPOSED to be I have no clue. I was just thinking about how with the wildfires some neighborhoods become unsafe for children to play outside. I realize that it's a little dark but idk it still fits the Amanda vibe so...

A lot of lore in this one, and gee I sure love making references to the games in innocent ways! Let me know if these get too on-the-nose! That said, it seems majority rule for the old ocs to make a comeback (sorry to the one person who didn't want them to comeback, but I kind of want them back too so... honestly thanks for being honest!)

I'm going to start moving this story along tho... so idk look forward to that ig? It's really nice to write something that isn't for school like this. It's a nice way to unwind...

Next fic gets more lore heavy!

[cowboyshadows]

(kinda) slowburn with coworker!Gaz. He's a charming asshole, hold the asshole, in this. Not beta-read.

Cw: alcohol consumption, referenced corporate misogyny, explicit sex. Mdni 18+ only

You’re staring out your window. Your palms are clammy. There’s a sharp ringing in your ear.

The drone of his voice fades back in, rehearsing the pitch: to say this was merely paramount would be to spit on the mural. You’re fighting a case against a billion dollar corporation, Shadow Pharmaceuticals. Fuckin’ dipshits: polluting ground water with PFAS just because they didn’t wanna shell out for a cover, now threatening to drag this case on for a decade till your humble firm had been wrung thoroughly in its maw.

The pitch was a Hail Mary at the twelfth hour— an attempt at convincing a bigger shark to help you out.

‘And then you talk the big numbers, just as assurance,’ continues your fellow senior partner, Garrick. He’s way too confident. Too composed for your liking. But then again, that’s how he always was. There’s a loud drilling sound from below that’s piercing your ear drums.

‘I hand out the reports,’ you say. You take a sip of water from your glass, bronze gloss staining the rim. ‘Or I can hold it, you can hold it, or I—’

‘You can hold it,’ he says, shit-eating grin plastered across his dark, rakish features. You find yourself wishing you’d paid attention to last month’s self-defence seminar. If only to roundhouse kick him six ways from Sunday. The drilling sounds stop for a few seconds, spoiling you with a short-lived reprieve only to snatch it back so heartlessly at the next breath.

You give him the nastiest deadpanned glare before recalibrating with a deep breath. Tone eerily nonchalant, you say, ‘I’m going to kill you.’

‘Save it for after the pitch, dove.’

As infuriating as he is, he’s marvellous at his job. Gets shit done like no other. Surprisingly hasn’t had a hit put out on him yet — a commendable feat for a person of his position.

Everybody loves him. How could they not? He makes you feel nice, wanted. Syrupy sweet tongue laving at you with praise. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone.

All those long plays either just to strike a deal, or have a good lay. One night, one signature, and it’s over. The velvety red curtains roll la fin on the charade. It’s a mirage.

He’s like you — power hungry, greedy, workaholic, unfeeling. But where he bothers to hide it behind a clean suit and puckered lips (read: ass kisser where advantageous), you are reticent in the least to bare your teeth like a fucking hound if prodded.

You’re the hysterical one, you’re the stickler bitch, you’re the tight ass cunt. Obviously.

But he won’t call you that. Not to your face, anyway. (Neither will anyone else, but for different reasons.) He recognises you for what you are and revels in it — he’d be looking in a mirror.

‘It’s gonna be fine,’ he says, possibly for the hundredth time this week. The words don’t mean anything anymore. The drilling sound is throbbing in your ear, your mind woozy. ‘Just relax, yeah?’

‘What the FUCK is that?’ you scream, manicured hands flying up and landing smack against the floor length windows. ‘I’m going down there.’

He knits his brows. ‘The construction site. We can’t do anyth— dove, stop. Stop!’

‘Fucking get off me!’ you snap, taking your stilettos in your hands as you jostle your way to the elevator.

Before you can disappear behind the metal threshold, a strong hand grabs the collar of your shirt like a kitten by the scruff.

‘Stop it!’

‘You need to get a grip.’

You turn around to face him, brown eyes boring into yours. His gaze is hardened.

‘I’m gonna fuck this up.’ Your gaze is skittish, eyes shifting from the floor to the shiny polish of his shoes. ‘You have to do this alone.’

‘You’re not gonna fuck it up.’ His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to approach a wounded predator.

‘You don’t fucking know that!’

‘Listen to me!’ Your eyes shoot wide at his exasperation. You’d never seen him lose so much as a splinter of control in any situation. For him to command your attention so desperately… it’s out of character. ‘No one knows this case better than you. You’re gonna go in there, and they’re gonna see exactly that. They’re gonna see how you plan to nail Shadow’s ass to the fuckin’ crucifix.’

Your breaths grow shallower, less erratic. His warm hands cautiously take pry your stilettos from your feverish, now loosening hold. He sinks to one knee, patting his thigh. ‘Come on.’

You sigh, an amused huff escaping despite yourself. ‘Kyle, what are you—’

‘Give me your fucking foot, woman.’

You pinch the bridge of your nose, corneas burning against unshed tears as you press your eyes shut.

You press your foot pliantly, into the tendoned cushion of his thigh, arch raised. He slides on your heel, and repeats the action for the next foot.

You wanted to look around you, check if there were any big mouths from the office staring. Trying to get a glimpse into this… strangely intimate moment.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to take your gaze off of him. Him, on his knees for you. Kyle fucking Garrick. If it was any other woman, you’d assume it was a simple gesture towards courting. But this was you. He didn’t intend on shagging you.

And yet, here he was. Amber eyes looking up at you through his long lashes, plump lips gently parted with the corner tugging up ever so imperceptibly.

‘You’re gonna go in there,’ he slowly stands up, fingertips grazing along the sides of your bare calves up to the sides of your blouse, ‘and you’re gonna be the frigid bitch we all know. Is that clear?’

You clench your jaw, removing his hands from your sides. ‘Don’t tell me what to do.’

As you walk away, you hear him chuckle softly to himself. You think you even a hear a ‘there she is’ muttered, but you decide you’re better off without that knowledge being confirmed.

You and Kyle walk out of the conference room, a fragile stoic quality jointly lining your features. Sliver of aghast threatening to seep through the cracks. it’s not until you’re both locked away in the privacy of his office, that you speak.

‘We did it.’ Your voice is quiet. Like you don’t dare to disturb the entire office with news so pivotal.

He looks up at you, hand rubbing over his stubble. ‘We fuckin’ did it.’

You slink down on his chair, legs kicking up to rest on his desk.

‘You fuckin’ did it,’ he huffs, signature smile creeping onto his beautiful, chiseled face.

‘I need a drink.’

He barks out a laugh. ‘It’s eleven AM.’

You throw one of his stress balls at him. He doesn’t even try to dodge the kitten blow to his shoulder.

‘I’ve got absinthe.’

You release an exaggerated sigh in your relief. ‘You know me so well.’

He takes his jacket off, rolls his sleeves up. His forearms. The veins in his hands. Why were his hands so large? What was he trying to grab? Shimmies his tie loose to unbutton the first two on his shirt. There’s a thin, gold chain hanging off his thick neck. You’ve never noticed that before. Always hidden beneath the preppy shirt. You watch his arms flex as he pulls out a bottle of sage green poison from his cabinet. You keep watching as the soft, black curls scarcely blanketing the ridges of his torso flinch with the turns of his body. Your hand accepts your glass.

Get a grip, you hear his voice chiding you internally. Even though you are frazzled for an entirely different reason now.

He sits on the desk, beside your stretched out legs. ‘I am really proud of you.’

You look at him, something dangerously akin to hope flickering beneath the cold exterior of your retinas. ‘Piss off.’ You take a sip of the burning liquids, a red hot warmth trickling down the epithelium of your throat. You reach to keep the glass back down on his desk.

Your gazes meet in silence for longer than professional etiquette dictates. ‘I need a drink,’ you repeat, absentmindedly. Anything to fill the pregnant pause plaguing his office. Your hand darts out to the bottle, but his stops it.

You suck in a sharp breath. ‘Kyle…’

His hand assesses yours, thumbs gently swiping over the dorsal skin. ‘I love it when you say my name,’ he admit, his voice huskier now than it’s ever been before. In your presence, anyway.

His hand moves to trail along your bare shin. ‘You drive me up the wall. You know that.’

You gulp, your mouth suddenly dry and bated. ‘I know that.’

His eyes find yours again, dark pools of desire blooming. ‘Fuck you for pulling that coy bullshit, dove.’

‘… What are you doing?’

You sit up straight, initiating the withdrawal of your legs such that you don’t accidentally flash him with what’s up your skirt. But his firm hand remains ever-so-still, cupping your knee down with seemingly no effort.

‘Fuckin’… wearing those skirts all day. Those shirts. And then you’ve got the gall to bend in front of me. Bloody tease. No?’

Your lips part. It seemed he actually wanted you to answer the question.

His hand squeezes at the muscle of your thighs, running up and down the planes of your leg.

‘And all that attitude…’ He lets out a low, strained attempt at a whistle. He shakes his head lightly, continuing, ‘you know what I think about? When you argue with me?’

You continue staring at him, your chest near hurting with the effort to not heave conspicuously. You didn’t want to let up your cards just yet, didn’t want him to be privy to the vigour he was unloading onto you.

He brings his glass to his lips, wincing at the intensity. His thumb runs over the glass rim. ‘Think about fuckin’ that pretty mouth. Put it to some good use for once.’

You release a shaky breath, lungs emptying out as the weight of his words settle over you like a dark cloud. Shadowing your common sense, which would’ve instructed you to warn him about a report to HR.

His gaze meets yours, pupils blown wide. His right eye narrows. He opens his mouth as if he has more to say, but when no sound comes out, you presume he’s decided against it.

For the better, you convince yourself. There’s no good that could possibly come from hearing what more he had to say.

He shakes his head again, downing the remaining absinthe in one go. If the drink affects him, he doesn’t show it.

‘You’re just drunk,’ is what you find yourself saying. It was wholly untrue, at least as a foundation for a defence. He’d done the damage before chugging his spirit straight. Brittle as the soil beneath the Pisan tower.

He looks up at you, big brown eyes flickering with vulnerability. He nods slowly, clenching his jaw. ‘You’re right. As usual.’

You can’t find it in yourself to be amused or annoyed at the little slight he managed to slip in. You give him a terse nod. ‘Your hand, please.’ He assumes a professional demeanour you haven’t seen since you first started working with him, both fresh-faced and wide eyed first year associates. Sits up straight, the curve of his back accentuated in a mock seemingly directed by the gods at your feigned indignance. Clinically removes his hand from where it’s made a home on your thigh.

You fold your legs back in on yourself, hands gripping at the hem of your skirt. ‘I’m gonna tell the rest of the team,’ you say, tight-lipped smile forcing its way on as you rise to your feet. ‘About the deal.’

He sits with his back turned to you as you exit, expression indeterminate.

It’s been a weird week. Needlessly tense. No one’s brought up the absinthe induced incident.

You don’t like it. You’re used to the snarky comments behind your back and the knowing gazes your employees threw one another at being presented with yet another one of your criticisms. No, your skin was tougher to crack than that.

But you missed the usual warmth Kyle would bring out to diffuse the situation. A light joke, maybe some playful banter in your favour.

None of that now. Just a cold, hard stare down as he leafs through the tray of documents people had thrown for review.

You find yourself clenching the muscle in your jaw hard enough to hurt, just so you don’t turn your head like a deer in headlights. To check if there’s any emotion passing through those features at your plights.

You’re pacing fast and hard in the conference room now, answers to his mock deposition interrogation rolling off your tongue in a practiced ease.

Much unlike his demeanour, however.

His questioning had been sloppy, unable to keep up with your improvisation. So unlike him.

‘Um…’ not a good start. ‘Were there any internal discussions…? Or warnings about possible contamination risks?’

You make a tsk sound at the lack of confidence. Theatrics was all you had in the courtroom, and he was butchering the delivery.

‘Operations are more of a day-to-day overseeing. The local quality assurance department is in charge of that, so they would know about any possible contamination.’

You watch as he presses his eyes shut, fingers pressing against his temples.

‘Kyle!’ You break out of the character of the sleazy higher up. ‘Are you serious? We’ve gone over this twice today.’

‘I know, just… I need a five.’ He gets up with such a force it leaves the chair swivelling.

You hold your hand up to the scorned transcriber in the room, gesturing for her to wait. You follow him outside, the glass doors a swinging mess in the wake of both tempers.

You find him clawing at a box of cigarettes outside the room, office empty save for some sorry associates.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ The click-clack of your heels against the marble floors rings out. You reach up to him, pawing at the box so it falls to the floor. ‘Can you not do this? Right now?’

He runs a hand over his face in an exasperated manner.

You scoff lightly. ‘Kyle, I don’t know what the fuck’s gotten into you this week, but we need you to be on your A-game.’ I crouch my posture slightly, urging him to look at me straight in the eye from where he’s transfixed on the floor. ‘I need you.’

That seems to lift his head up slightly, snapping him out of his stupor.

You shake your head, fingers cautiously reaching out to him. ‘I’m sorry about the smokes. I… you’re stressing me out, Kyle.’

He clenches his jaw, gaze once more diffident to meet yours. ‘I know.’

‘Don’t stress me out.’

‘I won’t.’

You find it in yourself to crack a small smile at that, more out of relief than anything else. As you walk away, you feel his hand grab your wrist. You turn around, worried.

‘Look, I…’ he looks around for prying ears. ‘I’m sorry about… the other day.’

You know what he’s referring to. ‘It’s fine.’ You’re eager to brush this off. ‘You were drunk.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I wasn’t.’

You let out a huff that turns into a nervous breath when you feel his fingers tightening around your wrist. There’s gonna be a red sting when you pull away. ‘Yes, you were. Why else would you say that?’

He looks at you, almost offended. ‘Why do you think?’

Your face falls. Your features droop. Everything in you is wound so tight at this very moment, you’re afraid that if you so much as speak — it will all come shattering down like glass. And you will come to do something very regretful.

It didn’t matter how beautiful he was. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to drag your nails to brand his hairy pectoral muscles. It didn’t matter how much you wanted his large hands to wrap around your throat, pressing at the spots below your ears to make you woozy. It didn’t matter at all.

Because he was your coworker. Nothing could ever be worth jeopardising the rapport you had poured years into nurturing. Nothing.

Probably.

No, definitely. Certainly.

‘Dove, I—’

‘Stop. Just… stop it.’

He looks at you, the fraction of a pout finding its way sneakily onto his face.

‘What do you want from me, Garrick?’

‘Don’t call me that.’

You chuckle mirthlessly. ‘Are you serious?’ He challenges you with a deadpanned stare, which prompts you to corner him into a wall. ‘I have worked too hard. Too fuckin’ hard for you to come in here, and ruin it all over a boner. Do you understand, Kyle?’

He gulps, looking down at you with a scowl. He hates that something he’s loved hearing so much is being used against him. ‘Is that what you think of me?’ His voice is small, sheepish.

‘Have you given me reason to believe otherwise?’ You exhale through your nose, stepping away slowly. You shake your head, and turn around. The hallway is still quiet, dark. Void of anything good.

You hear the soft shuffle of shoes behind you. Inadvertently, your feet grow heavier, and with that your steps sluggish.

You feel a familiar palm land on your forearm, swivelling you around.

‘That’s not what… this is about.’

Before you an stop it, a soft scoff emerges. ‘Don’t.’

‘Dove, I’m serious, I—’ He lets go of your hand, his own reaching up to caress the nape of his neck. The way he does when a client is being grilled on the stand — a nervous tic. ‘Look, I know that… I know how it looks. I know that I haven’t exactly been a priest in the time I’ve known you. But I’m serious about this.’

‘There is no this, Kyle.’ The vitriol in your tone surprises you as much as it surprises him. ‘You’re going to fuck the whole firm up with this.’

The dried seam of his lips tears away as they part, his big eyes desperately searching yours for any traces of a breaking resolve. Hope, optimism, even.

And maybe they do find it. But he knows you’re right.

The firm, the case, is infinitely more important.

Your bag is too heavy. You find yourself wishing you’d just checked it in, instead of pretending to be a hero and going for the gold.

Kyle, the smug grinning bastard, with pretty brown eyes and biceps to fill out even the loosest of t-shirts, watches you. Doesn’t even try to mask his amusement as you try your best to hoist the damn bag up.

‘Piss off, will you?’ you snap, eyes shifting around the relatively empty cabin of a roomy business class. Damn it, why aren’t there any attendants when you need them?

He chuckles breathily, redirecting his focus to his laptop. ‘Your stubbornness is gonna be the death of you.’

You huff, shoulders slumping. Your arms are sore from your efforts.

‘Throwing in the towel, then?’

Yo roll your eyes in a needlessly exaggerated fashion, surrendering to sit on the armchair beside his. ‘I’m doing it to shut you up.’

He smiles, shutting his laptop and getting up to his feet. ‘Aw… sure, dove. Whatever helps you sleep at night.’

As for your recent nights, you had something quite shameful to thank for your quality sleep. He came to you in your dreams… how pathetic was that?

Even though the two of you had made up since the mock deposition, and no further words regarding the situation were shared… his initial bombs refused to placate your memory.

‘Fuckin’… wearing those skirts all day.’ You watch as his fingers curl around the handle of your bag, and imagine how they would feel warm along your soaked folds. Gliding through the spaces, collecting your arousal to smear it around your pearl. Rubbing, circling. Cold sparks erupt all over your skin.

‘Those shirts.’ His thumb moves the key of your chain down the zipper, securing a small sliver of space shut. You want — nay, need — this thumb swiping across the pebbles of your chest, pinching and twisting. Large hand roughly squeezing at your mounds, your sharp cries muffled by the other paw.

‘And then you’ve got the gall to bend in front of me. Bloody tease.’ The image of him ramming into you with reckless abandon, your face pressed down on some arbitrary paperwork, plagues you endlessly. Heat pools in the low neglect of your core, your walls clenching and fluttering around nothing. His arms flex as he lifts your bag to the overhead space, every string of muscle visible clearly under the sterile lights. You can almost feel the phantom touch of those arms pressing your body deeper into the lacquered hardwood of his desk, hands splayed on your shoulder blades. His t-shirt rides up as he pushes your bag in, abdomen peeking out.

‘Think about fuckin’ that pretty mouth. Put it to some good use for once.’ The dark trail that follows a neat line disappears below the waistband of his peeking Jockeys. You want to feel the coarse curls tickle your nostrils as you take him deep in your throat, muscles gagging and flexing to adjust. His hands bunched up in your hair, thighs nudging your shoulder as he thrusts past your lips.

You’re suddenly brought out of your bubble by the sound of Kyle’s ass softly but unceremoniously thumping down on his seat.

The soft drone of the hostess’ voice sounds out through the speakers above. Kyle’s rummaging around his seat, putting everything back as he had found it to prepare for take-off.

Your palms are clammy. The whir of the engine thrums deep beneath, and your hands fumble with the belt. The clanging of metal against metal is punctuated by your soft sighs at your skin being pinched by the clasps.

‘You good, dove?’

You soak your head, forehead now lined with a chilled sheen of sweat. ‘I’m fine,’ is uttered curtly.

Perhaps too curt for the man that had helped you with your bag not two minutes ago.

‘Sorry, I can’t… I can’t get the damn thing to sit right.’

He loosens his belt, leaning forward to reach for yours. He clasps it deftly, the resonant click of metal falling into place ringing in your ears. Your breathing is shallower, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him. You can smell the faint scent of detergent on him.

As if he knows exactly what you’re dreading, he looks up at you. Wide, soft eyes taking you in up close. The Adam’s apple moves as he gulps, and you swear you can hear the glug.

Is that your heart beating wildly? Or his?

In court, at the firm, wherever; you’ve always been able to tell what he’s thinking.. so in sync, not a single skipped beat.

So why were your eyes now locked, needy in their attempt to decipher whatever this is?

His brows furrow — the most imperceptible crinkle forming between and above his nose. Had you been a splinter of a hair further, you might not have caught it. What is this? you can hear him ask, even though his lips don’t move.

‘Sir, please, sit straight for take off.’ The saccharine voice of the flight attendant anchors both of you back to reality. He mutters a small sorry, and sits back in his seat.

When the plane begins its tumultuous ascent, your hand squeezes his. He does you the biggest favour you could ask for then, and pretends he doesn’t notice.

But his fingers intertwine with yours anyway.

‘Two Long Islands, please,’ he says, as you join him at the hotel bar. The rooms were still being readied, and getting drunk on your evening off seemed as good a way to kill time as any.

You’re about to deliver a wise crack regarding his taste in beverages when a woman approaches him. You stay in your stool as he excuses himself, moving away to giggle at that lady’s booth. You’re used to this, really. It shouldn’t bother you — it never has before.

But your fists grip the glass of ice tea tighter as you watch them talk. Her hand ever so often moves to lightly smack him on the arm in jest, her body positively shaking with laughter. He’s not even that funny.

Your vision zeroes in on then, mind consumed and clouded with your fantasies. But your face was now swapped out with whoever this woman was. You feel an innate, animalistic urge to rip her head clean off her condyles.

You push back your virtually unzipped drink, leaving an appropriate tip next to it. You’re going back to your room.

You’ve been trying to distract yourself with a bashful Hugh Grant for a while now — Notting Hill’s on pay-per-view.

Your mind keeps wandering back to Kyle. All those things he’d said about you… that he’s serious? You want more than anything to believe him. Hell, you’ll settle for picking petals.

But it’s hard to yearn for someone who is very likely to be inside another person at the moment.

You stare absently as the colours of the movie start to blur before your eyes.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, your feet are dragging you out of your hotel room. Still clad in the silky — albeit skimpy — pyjamas they’d provided complementarily on the flight. You immediately regret it when a gust of the hallway air-conditioning hits the back of your thigh, not covered by shorts.

The moment your knocks sound out on his door the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you.

You’re so stupid. Why are you here? What on earth are you planning to accomplish by cockblocking the man? Aren’t you the one that turned him down in the first place anyway?

All of that fades away to radio silence the moment you see his face. Soft, brown eyes. Lopsided smile.

‘Hey, dovey.’

You hate your heart for skipping a beat, but you hate your stomach even more for that stupid lurch. You were his dovey. Fuck.

‘I… I just came here to tell you that, uh…’ His brows furrow, arms crossing, against his chest. He’s wearing the same clothes since the flight, but not a single hair loss out of place. Kyle ‘clean cut’ Garrick.

‘Yeah?’

‘I think it’s inappropriate to hook up with strangers on a business trip.’ You get it all out in one breath, not really giving him enough time to register every part of that individually.

‘Wha— wait. What?’

You nod slowly, somewhat sated now that you had made your disapproval known. Even if it was just thinly veiled jealousy.

‘What on earth are you on about?’

‘Don’t play dumb. I’m not gonna drag the poor girl out of your room myself or anything. Just… I’m just saying.’

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘What girl, dove?’

You sigh. ‘You know what, forget it. Fuck whoever you want, wherever and whenever. Guess we might as well run a brothel, huh?’

He chuckles softly, hand running through his short braids. ‘You’re so cute.’

You feel a twinge of something flush violently beneath your cheeks. ‘Wh— excuse me?’

‘There’s no one in my room, dove.’

There were no games to that. No charm, no smile. An earnest gaze deep into your soul. Your and raises to where your heart beats under all that fabric and flesh, as if that will calm it down. ‘Oh.’

There’s a glint of something in his eyes, uncomfortably familiar and knowing. ‘You wanna… come in?’

Everything in your mind is screaming at you to say no. it’s inappropriate. Unprofessional. It’ll lead to trouble.

But your body is on fire, set ablaze. Your cells scream back at you, drowning out your mind. Goody two-shoes.

‘Okay.’ You internally facepalm.

He closes the door behind the two of you, hands digging into the pockets of his jeans. You kick off your white room slippers, facing him sheepishly.

He still has that knowing look in his eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging up slightly. ‘Awfully short pyjamas you’ve got there.’

‘Oh, sod off.’

That draws a hearty laugh out of him, eyes crinkling up at the corners. ‘I mean, if we’re talking about inappropriate conduct on business trips, we should start there.’

The two of you smile at each other — lovesick teenagers would be put to shame by this. You sigh loudly, trying to get rid of this awkward pause any way you can.

‘Why are you here dove?’ His voice is smooth, gentle. Honey. Makes you wanna tell him the truth.

‘I told you. Inappropriate behaviours and all that.’

His smiles wanes, expression switched out for a more serious one. ‘Why are you really here?’

Your lips part to spew the same stupid lie as defence again, but you can’t. You swallow a lump in your throat. Of course he’d see through you. You’re his dove.

‘You know why, Kyle.’ Your gaze is transfixed on the rug below your bare feet, voice small and quiet. Like you’re banking on the possibility of him not catching your words.

He pushes himself off the door, and with a deep breath, starts walking towards you. He shrugs, his hands resting featherlight on your shoulder. As though you’re brittle. ‘I need to hear you say it.’ His hands move up your neck, fingers gently brushing the outline of your cheekbones. The look in his eyes is pleading you to break your peace.

Who are you to resist?

The moment you nod, it’s like a flip’s switched inside the man. Someone’s cranked the thermostat all the way up.

His lips land on yours, impatient in their taking. Your tongue darts out, seeking entrance into his mouth. He pulls away, holding your face with a new desperation.

‘Anytime you want me to stop, just… just say the word.’

You nod, lips already on him by the time he’s done talking. His jaw moves to kiss you deeper, tongues sloppily sliding against each other. His mouth is warm, wet — it tastes like a Long Island iced tea. You chuckle softly, which causes him to break away slightly.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ You pull him back in, fingers pressing at the nape of his neck. He walks you backwards to the wall, hands wandering around your body like he’s a kid with a Christmas present.

He strings your lower lip between his teeth, which elicits a meek whimper out of you. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d thank him.

He growls low, rumble deep in his chest. Roughly, he spins you around, your face pressed into the cold marble wall of the room. The hardness of his arousal presses long against the dip of your back.

‘Fuck, dovey, you feel that? How bad I want you?’ His fingers bunch in your hair, craning your neck backwards. His mouth captures yours in another feverish kiss, the two of you slobbering all over each other. He ruts his hips against the swell of your arsenal, groaning into your mouth.

His warm hands travel to your belly, shirt bunching up above. He squeezes your flesh, touch tantalisingly close to your hard peaks. Finally, his palms cup the swell of your chest, deft fingers taking your nipples between them. Every squeeze, pinch, twist sends a wave of heat rushing between your thighs.

He takes his mouth off yours, opting to resume his ministrations along your neck. His husky, low voice whispers near your ear, ‘if I put my hand down your shorts right now…

‘How wet would I find you?’

You whine softly, hips inadvertently rocking back on his clothed erection. He grins against your skin. Did he really have to be a bastard right now?

‘Ask nicely, and I’ll fuck you so good.’

You bite your lip, and swallow your pride. As depraved as you would sound begging for him, you need this. The pressure of the blood thrumming to your core is through the roof right now.

‘Kyle, just…’ a sigh, ‘fuck me…’

He growls at that, the vibrations of his timbre travelling deep around your body. ‘All you had to do was ask, dovey.’

With that, he turns you around, and tosses you over his shoulder. A few long strides, and he throws you as gently as he can onto the bed.

Your mind is fuzzy, clouded. One look at his face, and his near-black eyes would confirm that he, too, was afflicted alike. He tugs his jeans down his legs in what you consider record time, and damn near rips his t-shirt off.

There it was. Above you, the body you’d been fantasising about like a woman possessed. In all its glory. Boy, was it glorious.

His pectoral muscles are dusted with dark curls, and your hands reach to caress them. Hard, firm muscles tense under your touch.

You look up to him, his expression heady. Your hands trail downwards, following his hair, landing to cup the bulge of his black boxers. Your nails run along the length lightly, and you think his boxers are gonna have a hole in the flimsy network of threads if you tease any longer.

‘Can I…?’

He nods, face strained with effort of not roughhousing this. Your hand chastely tugs the waistband downwards, cock springing free and hanging low. He discards of the undergarment, resuming to be above you again. Your hand works him with one languid stroke, and he releases a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Like he’s in pain.

You continue to work his shaft, collecting the translucent beads of pre-cum from the tip and using it to ease your movements. His hips buck into your hand, urging you to give him more. Faster, tighter. But you are unrelenting in your restraint.

His hand yanks your wrist off him, a shaky breath following. ‘Fuckin’ tease, dove…’

He leans down, the snug feeling of his body weight settling over you. His tongue ravages and laves at your skin, impatient in its path to where you throb for him. He hooks a finger under the gusset of your clothes, holding it apart.

He sucks a lewd kiss on your sopping sex, eliciting a sharp gasp out of you.

‘I know, dove.’

He doesn’t tease or make you wait, he goes in for the kill. His tongue delves inside your cunt, nose bumping your clit. Your hands rest on the defined plates of his shoulder, nails digging in to the bare flesh. He licks at your lips, taking in all of your spend like butterfly does nectar. His head bobs as he pushes his slick muscle in and out of your hole, your back arching and hips rutting against him. He comes up, lower half of his face slickened by your arousal. He uses his free hand to push two digits inside you, curling and nudging all the right spots. Your vision is peppered with white marks as he wrecks you with such ease.

‘This what you wanted, dove?’

He pulls his fingers out of you with a slow, dragging squelch. Your thighs clamp shut at the sudden loss of sensation. His hands, smearing the ambrosia of your slick on the insides of your thighs, pry you wide open again.

‘None of that dove… I’m not done with you.’ He takes himself into his hands. ‘Take the shirt off.’

There was no relent to his demand. So you oblige him, hand moving to slide the shirt off. You unclasp your bra with shaky hands, tossing it to the floor. He draws in an anguished inhale hand making himself tighter.

He rubs his swollen too along your sensitive folds, creating a mess of your fluids. He bites his lower lip, watching intently as your cunt covered his rigid skin your juices.

He stays there for a few moments — that feel more like an eternity — until you finally burst with your impatience.

‘Can you just fuck me already?’

He releases a breathy chuckle, looking at you with a sort of childlike wonder. ‘I don’t know if im gonna be able to go slow, dove.’

Your walls clench around nothing at the no-holds-barred admission to his desperation.

‘Don’t wanna break you,’ he adds, cock slapping against your vulva in a silent haste. Your nub is tantalisingly sensitive, and the force sends cold pricks of needles all over your lower body.

‘Kyle, fuck, just— please.’ It’s beneath you, really, to be begging a man to put his dick inside you.

But this was Garrick, goddammit. To hell if you didn’t want his dick fucking into you like a battering ram right now.

He smiles, smug as ever. ‘Well, if you insist…’

He puts one hand beside your head, and lines himself up with your hole. Slowly, he pushes the flared head inside you.

The burn of the stretch after so long of nothing has you whining.

‘I’ve got you, dove,’ he coos, pushing more and more of himself inside. ‘So warm for me, baby.’

He bottoms out, sinking in to the hilt until his balls are flush against your arse. The sparks of sensation roll your eyes back, and even in that moment can you imagine him being smug about it.

Both his hands cradle the back of your neck now, almost using it as an anchor as he pulls out for a thrust. He releases a guttural, animalistic growl when you clench around him.

He fucks you slowly, hips snapping to meet yours. Like he’s cherishing this. Like he’s memorising your expressions at every slow drag of his cock against your walls. Like he’s trying to carve out a space in the velvet for every vein, ridge, curve of his shaft.

‘Look at me.’ Your eyes flutter open at the command, meeting his intent, near pitch black gaze. ‘You like that? You like the way this cock makes you feel?’

You whimper and babble incoherently in response.

‘It’s all fuckin’ yours, dovey, I swear, hah— fuck.’ He bottoms out rougher this time, a sharp slam to your cervix making you cry out. He lifts his knees off the bed, hammering into you now with reckless abandon.

The onslaught of feeling has your vision cloud, fireworks bursting in your line of sight.

Your cunt pulsates around him violently at your peak, the pleasure washing over you. Unrelenting in its wake. Your toes curl, legs wrapping around his waist.

‘That’s it, dove… come on my cock, yeah?’

Your body goes limp even as he continues slamming into you, chasing his own climax.

Hardly the first double act of the night.

[lemonmaid]

Deep Wonders of the Ocean.

Warnings: very injured viktor, m/m, Jayce's morals get tested- nah bro gets gaslit.

Series will be updated on my ao3

It was peaceful.

Well as peaceful a beach could be, it was Jayce's day off in the first time in MONTHS, frankly he couldn't seem to relax.

Before he left his (mother's) place, he was finding every excuse of why not to go-

'What if there is a emergency-'

It took his mother locking all the doors to the house to keep him out, "go away and relax!" She yelled from the window.

Jayce at first put his hands in his pocket, kicking the dirt, before sighing loudly then making the decision to go for a walk.

As he walked through the neighborhood, he made his way towards the cliff and  stood against the edge of the railing that leads down to the beach. Sighing and looking down at his phone, scrolling back and forth between the home menu and the messaging app, he let out a big huffed before shoving his phone in his jeans and proceeded to walk down to the beach.

As he stared out into the horizon, he couldn't help but feel an inch in the back of his mind, call him paranoid or anxious, but there was a nagging feeling that he was needed somewhere- or that he had better things to do- more work to be finished. He felt a gray feeling in his chest, hollow.

He sat in the sand, listening to the waves beat agasint the shore, the clouds turning the sky gray.

He thought to himself, 'is this what my life is supposed to be? Just work'.

There was a moment of silence, where instead of focusing on the sounds of the ocean he began to focus on the nagging feeling in his heart. 'Was... life truly this draining- is he just ment to work where all he can think about is work?'.

The nagging feeling was growing again, feeling heavy on his chest, the growing thoughts of he could be doing something much more better- how he is wasting the minute being unproductive like this- people where counting on him and he is "relaxing".

Jayce felt himself choke up, his chest was feeling heavier by the minute, he kept listening and pondering at the thoughts that just grew in his head.

It was a small cry that took Jayce out of his thoughts. Jayce's head immediately turned to the small cry by the dock, he doesn't know what was happening. But something in his mind was just making him follow the cry.

As Jayce got closer to the dock, his eyes landed on a small figure huddled under dock. Thinking of the worst, Jayce rushed his movement, the sand was getting everywhere now, it was in his socks, his shoes- his hair.

Jayce was shocked, I mean it's not everyday you find a merman- but he was more shocked at the amount of blood pouring from the tail. The nets or other human pollution was obviously suffocating the tail itself, the merman looked up at Jayce with a daze in his eyes.

It made a cooing sound towards the hunk, not a hiss or an ounce of aggression but a coo.

Maybe the merman was also surprised by Jayce's appearance.

Jayce seemed to snap out of his daze, pulling out his phone and a small pocket knife from his jacket.

He hushed the merman and began to start cutting the string and trash off the tail, with his free hand he dialed his coworker's number, "Mel? It's me. I need help right away- no- animal recuse team immediately- get the lab ready".

[hooter-n-company]

Since I mentioned him here, might as well officially introduce this big fella. Also because @twistedtummies2 is a big fan. 😉

No one knows exactly where Bubba came from, but ancient legend goes that he is the living essence of the primordial swamp, laying dormant beneath the muck for who knows how long before he was discovered by the local tribes. The humans noticed a section of the ground beneath their feet shifting, rising and falling with the beast’s breath. Believing it to be some kind of slumbering god, they created ceremonies, myths, and cautionary tales warning to never disturb the deity from his slumber, or risk incurring his wrath. However, a corrupt shaman thought that he could control and exploit the powerful “god” for his own gain and proceeded to cross onto the sacred patch of land where he slept before digging him out. Unfortunately, the shaman didn’t have much time to enact his plan as he was immediately gobbled up by the creature, who promptly vanished into the murky depths.

Despite his elusive nature, the amphibious creature can still be seen roaming the swamp, devouring all in his path. The tribes still revere him as a godly figure, providing him with numerous offerings to appease him…and to keep him from turning his appetite back on them one day…

More info under the cut:

Name: Bubba

Pronouns: He/him

Age: Unknown

Species: Unknown amphibian/fish hybrid/possibly a god

Role: Pred

Height: 10 feet tall, 17 feet long

Abilities: Elastic tongue, super sticky saliva, tissue regeneration, can hibernate for centuries, breathes both air and water

Personality: A lazy, greedy, gluttonous, and incredibly territorial beast. He’s a complete loner who is perfectly content living by himself and views all other creatures are potentially edible, incredibly annoying, or both at the same time. However, he isn’t a sadistic creature who goes out of his way to hurt people. He just wants to be left alone with some peace and quiet, so if you keep your distance, he will happily do the same. When Bubba is alone in his element, he can be surprisingly relaxed, mellow, and laid back, even jovial at times when he’s engaged in his own personal interests. His appetite heavily dictates his mood, as he tends to get irritable and short tempered when his stomach is empty. He is driven by simple motivations (mostly filling his belly), but he can be a surprisingly cultured and curious creature with a fair amount of intelligence.

Likes: Food (especially jambalaya and gumbo), cooking, discovering tasty ingredients, collecting unique trinkets and useful items, sleeping, mud baths, hot n’ humid weather, learning about the outside world, scaring people for fun, living a minimalist lifestyle, being alone, smoking

Dislikes: Bland meals, severe boredom, trespassers, poachers, pollution, rival predators in his territory, people interrupting his naps, an empty stomach, annoyingly loud critters, cold snaps

Other Info:

-Has a THICK southern accent.

-Has taken up cooking as one of his main hobbies. Despite not being picky in the slightest, he has developed quite a refined palate. He really loves gumbo and jambalaya.

-He begrudgingly tolerates the local tribes who worship him, mostly because they provide him with food and useful materials at his request. Although he does get a kick out of scaring the bu-jeezus out of individuals who wander into his territory.

-When injured, Bubba can regenerate large chunks of damaged tissue, including entire organs and limbs if given enough time.

-Croaks like an enormous frog to warn nearby creatures to stay out of his territory. Can also puff himself up for defense and intimidating enemies

-His first stomach is like a “storage pouch” to hold extra food, but also has powerful muscles to churn meals and coat it with enzymes. These aren’t strong enough to cause serious acid damage, but they work in tandem with the juices of the second, primary stomach, making it easier to digest tough meat and hard materials like shells and bone.

[nugromancer]

Veilguard Photodump (Spoiler Edition)

End Game Spoilers (mostly me gushing ab art direction (￣y▽,￣)╭ ) under the cut

I can't get over how stunning the light and colour design is in this game. Funniest thing I noticed was that, while treading through any area, there were a lot of very obvious "Photo Opportunities" where the map designer was like Hey. Hey. Come over here for this little bit of treasure haha. Oooohhh but maybe you can take a moment to enjoy the view? (we worked so hard on it please look pleasepleapspslelpeas) And it's banger after banger of beautiful scenery!

I want to get on this level where I can convey something so gd big. It's much more obvious how massive a Titan is when Rook is in frame, but even without, that's a big lad!!! Huge sucker for a good cloud cap that lets the sun peak through. Literal Silver Lining.

This shot from the end of the Corruption questline (and if you complete the Dreadwolf's Memories + Convince Mythal to help) is great. Like our lady's dragon form is beautifully lit, she's got a spotlight and everything!! And it looks natural. It looks like the sun managed to poke through the blight on this one place.

Also allow me to giggle and kick my feet because not only does Dragon!Mythal's design FUCK (look at that tri-crown horn formation like YEEESSSSSS THAT'S MY BITCH!!!!)

She's also PINK AND PURPLE?? LIKE HELLO??? The lighting is absolutely saturating her scales (plus she's breathing lightning, which glows violet/blue, adding to the effect) so it's brighter than it probably is. But what a fantastic coloration none-the-less!!

End-game Arc doesn't fuck around either. The gold ring from the eclipse against that eye-searing magenta is just. Augh. Ough. Foreboding has never looked so damn pretty.

(Also this general area is one of my favourite places in the Lighthouse. The lighting is just so on point. I have a dozen other photos of this section bc I always stop to admire it lmao.)

That magenta is striking. You'd expect it to be solid red across the board! But once we're in the "real" world we get those warmer tones you would normally associate with this sort of thing... But now that I think ab it, it's probably from the amount of smoke rising from the antaam encampment. The Crossroads don't have pollution! Of course it'd be more jewel-toned! I wonder what our sunsets would look like if there was less of that. Sigh. Anyways--

The Regret Prison. Probably my favourite sequence in the game. Yes I love colour, but let's not forget CONTRAST.

It's soooo easy it end up with a horrible clashing of shapes if you don't balance contrast. So you gotta Contrast the Contrast... by reducing the Contrast. Yes there's depth-of-field shenanigans (making lines blur the farther from the viewpoint they are) but there's also mist/dust/atmosphere. I love this shit.

Not to mention that subtle introduction of colour by incorporating greenery (still heavily desaturated, as to not be glaring/distracting) as you make your way through the map. Like. The starting area was desolate and devoid of life. Any plants you saw were dead. Bare-bone roots. But as your proceed you find Life scattered around. Hope.

I didn't get a proper shot/video clip of the end sequence for this quest, where you're walking across a barren expanse and can see the ritual sight erect itself piece by piece in the distance as you get closer. That sequence knocked me out it was so fucking good!!! To the person(s) who all made that happen, I'm sending them a big sloppy kiss on the cheek it was so elegantly executed. <333

Anyways I feel like I said a lot without saying anything at all but hopefully this was somewhat interesting to someone thank you for coming to my TEDtalk <3