#rump t natural

[artcallednaturalviews]

Rockstar Manhunt, So Say I

To go back

Scared in an alley

I’ve never felt the same pulse

In a game

Dead Souls just brutally hard

But scary

There is

Manhunt

I’m beyond Slender man sorry

And Five nites

The scare to terrify

Breath thee only sound

Creep willfully!

Manhunt

That was like PS2

Without prescription drugs

Extravagant attack

Small clovers killed

Just pulled out

Contracts of

Rockstar manhunt

We go back

For arena

Nother day of death

Pull out roll in grab a plastic bag

Eerily subjugated causalities

ESC

Early synapse

Caucasian

With filigree top head never cut sprinkled

over to a side pedigree chained to a golf cart spouting of words off like a sprig engine

Killing for a taproot

And let’s kill on

Rockstar make a Netanyahu game

It will be just for killing numbing

Play on

You fore’s are thee abundantly handicapped

In missiles leading mislead humans

And a whole even taxed abundantly tied

Connected arms

Engrossing

Around a World

For I tell and toll

In my crosshairs

With out

Ex producer

Help

My country

Yet soon

My nativity

So help me

Dear baby Jesus

What the fuck is with

Standers of Trump

God help Them

So on and more for the ones just don’t understand!

Dang it !

Oh my God

So speak to all of US

Hold the Bible again Trump!

Day after day

Fourth of July!

Still partying

Do say rump T

Cause

I’m not done !

Yet!

Did you yelp for yeti!

Criss cross the Trump into thinking back again

All the simple plays in America. I’m pointing from down under looking up at America

The coke bottle fell from the sky

First

There

No fake Moon land necessary

Eat tha chumbs and crackers

Slithery sinnestars

Sin the nest of ours so sly

In all digestions

Could agree?!

We need boxed up shit

In all atmospheres

Holding the smells

………

Under concrete decomposing

De fore under oppression from the evil Hamas therefore Governing ruling over and Palestinians dinning in the mathematical process covered in rubbish ties too

….i can believe

Trump involved

Add Putin

Sew through threads North Korea

Set your place marker after the fourth!

The World is Ours!

Wrong harbors & haircuts

Fuck you

Trump

Putin

Bill Kim Jong Un You

And the Provider’s

From South America

They may be, they could be, while holding that fob for seat placement

When it lights up

You now know your place

Seek the drugs

Oga bunga style

Say please, me

Say what

Say what

Thought from beginning creeping back

You can love some one

Take ‘em out of focus

No longer a problema’

: words from my American Terminator @

In parenthesis

(My problems are my own through all the ages even with magical Moon landings and don’t forget about the food pyramids and the just thee excuse for medical insurance not living up to doctored standards or the carrying out of eating desserts as the lonely spread the lower bottom rungs in this task carried out by thee upper above)

It’s all Marketing!

She said

And then sum!

Over and since 1920’s again

Well that’s a hundred years of same ol

Dust bowls

Tornados all else where

Hurricanes for land masses

I tape it on

With duck or duct

I’m confused now

As when laughing at Satie

In a comedy

A writers missed constitution

You are Wallace and Ladmo!

Sue me Trump Rump T

Come on

Come one

Sue me Trump Rump T

Come one

Come on

Big ass Sally

Letting the glide right in

Make it open forum

Make it open forum!

Add your sneer ( )

You bully!

Trump from Apprentice

Give the show out stories!

They don’t exist apparently

You none parent

Formulate riding on Underscored

Democrats

It’s easy to see!

I’m bringing the Ace suit!

For bringing humans for killings

Like a vide game

(You shouldn’t reach out)

(Nah, reality)

(You shouldn’t reach out)

(Nah, reality) (You shouldn’t reach out)

(Nah, reality) (You shouldn’t reach out)

(Nah, reality) (You shouldn’t reach out)

(Nah, reality)

(You shouldn’t reach out)

(Nah, reality)

Tripled finger above

Look closely up above

Watch the head lines

Fore!

For a Manhunt from Rockstar again!

Hope prey before gta 6

I will do tha Macreana

Manhunt 2

Manhunt II (tha second)

Or

Prequel

It’s been done

A story to the mayhem

Just a sum thang in something more scored

(Your own breathing was in first soundtrack)

As the last

Speak up again it’s been 2000 add 24 years

Don’t say it like that!

Last stab carried for

Two thousand and twenty four years ago

I stated & punched oiled buttons

Without a healing potion

Art for more gain

Had healing powers

Let’s combine

Ohh tha Silo’s

[Let’s prey pray upon tha masses of disease and buying into tha conglomerates to make themselves feel special especially against the reported enemies while trying to overcome the entities of leadership reminding thee to kill others before self]

My words granted by Trump rump T

Point all Nuclear wares towards tha Moon

Thee after shock will

Take out Republicans pelican the easy and touched in swallowing, former Dear President Trump {he said [I took acceptances only after being paid], I’m always everywhere no never elsewhere without tie jacket and long sleeves

He said I’m just a man

Please allow me to take shoes socks and pants off

He

Jung Un

Putin

Will cease to exist!

And some little girls and boys

The reaches of Woman

In the Arts

Has been ridiculed by Man

Trump

Openly define!?

LBGTQ

Not a can I tie my own shoe test

Or what did I eat this morning

Define, Openly

It is after the debate

But you, and bretheren and Some Dis Social

Other Democrats

Chumps

Easy dones

Simple drones

It’s all s and s

For former

Putin Nazi-ism add Jong Un

Nobodies of Hamas

You tied with Netanyahu too

So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say So say I

Rockstar Manhunt, So say I

Touché

Like a Trump ex President

Don’t grope me

Or poke my stomach in a Boys Room

I have been assaulted!

Never like Covid

Took it out on others!

Rump T dance needed now

And fast

Due the steps you all

Because

Cause

We all CONNECTED

Bombs on children and other civilian lives

Through domesticated America formication

In allies ( that says really all lies) dependent on the out reach

What frame you in mind?

Or NATO OTAN

I speak upon conglomerates and political figures

And those in the sames

But senates seat for forever

Well that should be calculated as wrong and not above

Stupid American zombie

The SAZ

ZAS

The book of ZAS

States:£\ Established when eating brains started

(brought by non Frasiered haircut man lowered the regulations, he then shut down UNITED STATES OF AMERICA & to add to the mayhem

He stormed the UNITED STATES CAPITOL

it was behind

Bulletproof glass

He was standing in front

Pointed them towards

Thee esculation

Deferring deflowering stated by built a building belonging to the same Country

It’s our lower case a-Merica mess

It’s mixed & fucted UP

I please, I pledge aggressively

I plead, I piss

I subtly, fuck you

I Abruptly say

I pledge Allegiance to my Flag!

No test needed

But let’s compare minds

For your sakes!

A sorry Atari

Flick Commadore54

Only a PS

One

Grabbed my attention

Finger Nintendo

And grasping X Box

But obnoxious in controller size

And not just the hand holder purchased merchandise

Ask thee ex pose the ex spouse

But cordially

The public broadcasting stations are still needed

And some frontiers

Ended in public branding’s

Those names at thee ends!

Oh awe oh ho La ga in which a tha flavors for the Mari mi Maro lar go

As Marlboro Will considering

I’m connected

Wenever considered!

Wenever considered

We never considered

Oh really

I was born to wear pomp owns pawns as

In the like of what they thoughts

The pops of trumps grope

As stated from get-fore or as in be-fore’s

Emigrate golfing ties

Fork her Rocker

In above symbol!

(It’s mine in calibration with Apple)

I’m punching in oils for in prognosis

I’m not tha Doctor

For de-ablitated

See my symbol

Full bodied above now!

(A dedication for we all CONNECTED)

Taxes, son’s & daughter’s; it’s enough

For numbers!

Holy overstated opera

Starvin’ Gazians

25 to one Israeli

Thumb next picture next

For the nest of US

No tin awe tee ya hoo

In aware of the change in quarter’s

Up holy America

And music, movies, games, books,

(Automobile, biker, tricycles, swings & slides for catastrophe in the all of U.S.)

Stocks bonds & colours

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter] - coming soon

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[eldritch-spouse]

CRACK

" I don't hear you counting, boy. "

The paddle crashed so hard onto his left asscheek that it dented. Hm... You'll have to get something sturdier. Damn breeders and their tough hide, they're way too dense. At least he's getting blue, that means he must be feeling it to some degree. And that's good enough for you.

" Don't tell me you've forgotten how to... " Your spare hand smooths over the overheated flesh, smirking at Breg's quiet whimpers of pain.

He's a total mess and you're not even halfway done. Legs already clenched together, tongue out so he can drool on the support pillows you were kind enough to get for his punishment. Yeah right, some "punishment" this is. You assumed, erroneously, that Breg wouldn't be into pain play given how he's always so scared of hurting you. Yet, a couple of spanks in, and he's already arching his ass like the bitch in heat you've always known him to be. Frankly, you're giving up on taking this seriously, you're basically just doing it for kicks.

" ... T-Ten? "

" Twelve actually. " You slam the paddle down on his ass as hard as you can again.

" AH! G-God... Ungh- " He's trembling, ocean blue bruises already blooming beautifully on that rump.

" That's for getting it wrong. " The clarification is accompanied by an expectant glance. Your eyes are ice cold as you judge the panting monster sprawled over your legs. You know he's digging his claws into the side of the couch and it only makes you want to break the paddle on his tender ass in retribution.

It takes Breg a couple of hazy, huffing seconds. " Thirteen! "

" Good boy. " The fact that he wags his tail in spite of his current situation is hilarious enough to make you muffle laughter.

Delivering a couple of merciful slaps on that abused tissue proves itself to make for very amusing reactions, as the monster tenses and whines. " Why am I spanking you, Breg? "

" Buh- Because I've been bad. "

Your eyes roll, you let yourself grope the breeder's fine ass, and he bites his lip through the pain, trying to grind a sopping wet slit against the pillows beneath it, and your thigh. " And what did you do, captain obvious? "

The fact that Breg seemingly struggles to detect the answer you're seeking tells you all you need to know. He didn't listen to a single word of your chiding as you drove back home, and he legitimately doesn't understand what he did wrong. You know that screams of glaring issues that need to be addressed, but right now, you'll unload your frustration.

CRACK CRACK CRACK

" HNGH- Fff- Ohhh ffuck yeah, please ahn... " Your crazed monster of a boyfriend buries his face on the pillows and weeps from tantalizing agony, feeling the fury you experience when handling his immature and impulsive nature.

" You're irredeemable. "

" Six- Sixteen. "

" Why are you being spanked, Breg? "

This time, he really scrambles hard for words, humming fearfully whenever your hand moves.

" Because... Because I chased your friend out of the mall?' "

He says the word "friend" like it's poisonous, bitter, repulsive. Like he wanted to say "scum" instead. You'll let it slide, since he did guess correctly. That's progress for someone such as Breg, as far as you're concerned.

" Correct. "

He didn't just chase your poor acquaintance out, he snarled and swiped at them all the way through like a feral animal. The only thing that saved them was the narrow passages where Breg couldn't follow as easily. Otherwise, his magnificent sprint and four-legged racing would have lead to a public evisceration. You're going to have to play Devil's advocate and try to even things out, hopefully avoid any charges. All this mess because mister "I have no idea how to behave myself" couldn't keep his jealousy in check and saw red when your old friend shared a smoothie with you. The nerve. You feel a vein popping in your forehead just remembering the embarrassment.

His audacity, to then scoop you up and carry you back into the store like a living sack of potatoes. Ugh, he didn't even look sorry. In fact, he doesn't look sorry now. The bastard.

CRACK

" Do you know how badly you embarrassed me? " Mentioning your friend's health is pointless, you know he won't care unless your chastising revolves around either you or him. He grits out a quiet "seventeen" before keening high. " You can't do that in malls. "

" Uh-? "

" You can't chase people. "

THWACK

" You can't snarl at others. "

SMACK

" And you can't pick me up like an animal! "

He's got a good chunk of the pillow lodged in his mouth by now, salivating and biting at it in reflex, muffling his admittedly satisfying noises. That tail remains perfectly arched above, even as it trembles with his pain. You eye that darkening purple-blue skin with fevered delight, being merciful enough to stroke his clothed thighs instead.

" I'm talking to you, Breg. "

He spits the fabric out faster than you can raise the paddle again. " SUH- SORRY! I'm sorry, h-hit me more. "

Great, he's now even more shamelessly into it.

" You never learn. " There's just no winning.

Giving up on getting anything through his thick skull for now, you let your fingers hover over the underside of his tail, tickling there, the sensitive skin between the appendage and his ass. The breeder pants, lifting his rump up and up, chasing the touch- Until you grasp the base firmly and yank. The ensuing, raw shudder that courses Breg's body is glorious, he all but rattles, grip on the couch faltering altogether. This time, it's your bare hand slapping onto the meat of his cheek.

" I hann- I lost count... " He confesses, to which you just shrug.

" I know. " Is he lying just to get smacked harder or did he genuinely lose count? Either one sounds plausible.

A digit traces from the root of that strong tail to the tight ring of muscle between his legs. You don't really intend to finger him, but the hint is there as you circle it, surprised by how he stiffens yet carefully inches those long legs apart. Huh. Now isn't that new? You recall Breg doesn't really like the idea of ass play. Things about him are changing, but never where it matters apparently. Tsk.

Your touch lowers, feathering over the expanse of skin between hole and slit. The monster's excitement is palpable, legs spreading wider, pleading chirps escaping through exposed teeth when you make contact with the soaked entrance, grieving for the poor pillow he's been grinding on. It only takes a little bit of tickling until both cocks poke out, this lurid, wet noise accompanying them. Nonetheless, you wedge a single finger into that stuffed slit, maneuvering your current position enough to grab the paddle steadily again.

" Now, we're starting over. "

The way his cocks twitch puts a grin on your face.

[thriceboundhome]

ABOUT PUBIC HAIR/PERSONAL GROOMING

QUINN ;

she's hairy

well, not Hairy

decent amount of fuzz on her legs/arms. has a tiny shadow above her lips that she cannot see for the life of her

a proud bush haver though. 💪

she doesn’t really shave/trim

had a full body shave once and was uncomfortable in her skin for a whiiile

loves her fuzz and you will catch her rubbing her legs together because of it

she trims her public when it starts bothering her, doesn't really think about it much if at all

will get bored and trim fun shapes

a content bush enthusiast

honestly forgets that people are weird about underarm hair and is throughly confused when she gets weird looks cause her arms are up in her sleeveless tops

fuzzy stomach too 🙂‍↕️ and a small trail but it stars right above her navel and joins her bush

HAIR ;

she doesn't take care of her hair (head) often. let's Itani take care of that

She could put he's given her a bad habit and she intends on letting him keep it

Loves letting him put in braids with clips and baubles

When she retires, it's a constant

Detests whenever there's surprise missions, and she has to hastily undo her hair because using noises in fights isn't her speciality

Loves having her hair out in an afro just as much though

Just wished she could maintain it better because her hair dries out easily

ITANI ;

he's not as hairy as his sister but he's got some

naturally doesn't grow that much body hair but he doesn't let it grow enough to actually know

actually tries not to think about it cause his burns make him feel patchy

and he's long given up on the thought of facial hair because of it (quinn teases him about having a mustache when he doesn't)

Trims, not that he has much hair to begin with

just a lil sprinkle sprinkle of hair here n there

H A T E S his underarm hair cause he sweats a lot & and it sticks to him and— he'd rant all day about it if he could

I lied. from the knee down he's got some hair

he's grown more into it over the years, but before he'd shave it often

surprisingly has a happy trail and he loves to go shirtless because of it.

he takes wonderful care of it. its his pride and joy

when he's retired and can actually just sit and reconnect with himself— he stops shaving as much

HAIR ;

Itani has such a loving relationship with his hair.

He's never been upset over how long it takes or when it goes wrong

his hair has been with him through it all and he intends to show it that gratitude

He doesn't like going out with his hair unfinished if he started it

Be it he was oiling his scalp or moisturising it or mid way through a hairstyle- he hates having to cut it halfway

It feels like he's disrespecting his hair by not having made enough time to care for it

loves wash days. doubles it as an everything shower day too (he is that guy )

I have and will continue to jump between him having locs or his hair open

I think when he's active in the field he has it open. the time it takes to do his hair on the occasion or combing through it is relaxing for him through the adrenaline and everything

So when he's retired/not as active he probably makes to choice to give himself either mirco or sister locs

SAGE ;

Not hairy but he's got some good fuzz on him

Doesn't really maintain his hair often

His hair grows slowly, which is why he can go so long without a haircut

He trims every once in a while, but aside from that 🤷🏽‍♀️

sure, sometimes he gets a little adventurous and decides to maybe shave his ass or someone's but it's never truly a routine for him

(though he did like the good weeks he had of a smooth rump)

His tattoos are already hairless skin and he thinks it counts

Hairy stomach though, has a habit of rubbing it idly

That's why he usually has a tucked top so he doesn't do it in public

If he cared enough to go through with it— he'd most def get his partner's initials shaved out on his mound. he thinks it's cute and the reaction would be funny

he'd cringe about having to shave it all off so it grows equally though

HAIR ;

to put it simply. itani hates him.

that guy that uses 3 in 1 and washes his hair with cheap shampoo bars vibes

his hair care is simple, and it helps that his is short

his pa taught him right and does make natural shampoo/conditioner bars and oils n things so he knows what he's doing

but it pisses off Itani so he refuses to tell him

"you're hair smells nice. what'd you use?"

"I just sprayed perfume in it"

"I hate you. never talk to me again"

But his shower shelf is decked out cause his pa refuses to have his kids hair nothing but soft since it's always open unless he decides to plait that rat tail- mullet he has going on

NOTES;

both Itani and Sage are tenderheaded. which contradicts the hair pulling turn on they got.

Sage actually smells like Sage. and cinnamon.

Itani smells woodsy but sweet.

Quinn...just smells like Quinn..

[the-kittylorian-writes]

"In Dreams, We Wake" (1/?)

Fandom: Star Wars - The Mandalorian

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Type: Multi-chapter Status: Ongoing Warnings: Season 3 spoilers, graphic depictions of violence (some chapters), ptsd, subjects on grief & mourning Story Summary: Two years have passed since Ragnar lived the creed without his father. The boy keeps a facade, hiding his true nature as he leads a double life.

Between his roles as Mandalorian apprentice and heir to an ancient House, Ragnar is willing to weave through a complex path that haunts him and the Vizsla name—if only his father were there to see him again. Perhaps, Paz Vizsla will.

The question remains for Ragnar: What would he do and how far would he go for the father he loves?

Read on AO3 (w/ author's notes) or here:

Chapter Summary: A child is restored. An estranged teacher is concerned for his apprentice. A son dreams while a father sleeps.

O the cunning wiles that creep In thy little heart asleep! When thy little heart doth wake, Then the dreadful night shall break. -William Blake, “Cradle Song”

~Chapter 1: A Bittersweet Lullaby~

In a clearing around a crackling fire, a circle of ruffians swayed in drunken stupor, celebrating their spoils of the day. Another village raided, another town razed to the ground; more frightened families were torn down and torn apart.

Amidst the slurred cheers and incoherent talk of various species was the thin and high wailing of an infant. It was the solitary sound that seemed human.

Five Quarren, four Trandoshans, and a massive Devaronian were rolling in their spoils—hard-earned harvests after a long drought, scarce yet valuable pieces of jewelry adorned by ancestral weight, the gold spun in them enough to fetch a decent amount of credits with the right barter. Four towns ransacked and bled dry, with homes shattered and bodies left in their wake. A trail of death would lead a pursuant to this very circle, and yet no authorities gave chase. The New Republic held no sway in these pathetic parts of a galaxy worn down by years of war. 

These raiders, these murderers… they were scot-free.

One of the Trandoshans was vainly shushing an infant to silence, but to no avail. His comrades began to mock him. Was it worth the trouble—this human infant? How large a sum would such fragile life fetch from the slavers? It was a human baby with sensibilities none of them, considering their varied species, was familiar with. Its feeding, care, and upkeep would simply weigh them down. Perhaps it wasn’t worth it.

“We should just eat it,” casually suggested another Trandoshan. The Quarren shook their heads, but not out of disgust for moral reasons. Humans were not palatable and had not really been part of the regular Quarren diet. The Devaronian grinned with eerie quietude in his corner, a towering shadow half-lit by the fire. The three other Trandoshans who accompanied the self-assigned nursemaid were eyeing the infant with sharp, gleaming stares. “It looks like it’s barely half a standard year old. Its meat would be very soft…”

The Trandoshan rocking the squealing infant hissed. “The boss would say otherwise. Better hand this thing over to the boss first and let him decide!”

The Quarren made snide remarks about this particular Trandoshan being such a rump-kisser, always trying to curry favor when their so-called boss couldn’t care less. It was simply the language of credits that spoke clearly to the boss. Spoils which constituted bottles of mead or spotchka would be next to ideal. 

—and not this tiny child, helplessly flailing, its limbs shaking with each cry which piteously sliced through the oily night air. 

The billowing smoke which curled from the fires was thick. Soon, a syrupy fog blanketed the merrymakers. 

“Feed that brat some mead, get it drunk a little,” spat one of the Quarren through a squared jaw. His tentacles squirmed distastefully with every quaking shriek the baby made. “If you insist on keeping that tiny piece of filth, at least keep the damn thing quiet!”

The Trandoshan with the child hissed again, but with more reluctance. He gingerly rocked the infant, almost reconsidering either of the two suggestions. The baby’s cry, however, grew weaker and weaker. It was not faring well in this polluted pit which the thugs had dug for themselves.

The Devaronian’s robust growl rose above the din. “Not sure about you, but I’ve had enough of that kriffin’ Dray goat! We had nothing but their bones for the past week. Now that—“ the monster of a horned man pointed at the unfortunate child in the Trandoshan’s grasp with a knife already unsheathed, “—is a little something different for a change, huh? The boss doesn’t have to know we even had a human child.” The massive creature pinned the cornered “nursemaid” in place with his glare. “Give that up, now, Atur. There won’t be much left of it after we’re done. Even the bones would be tender…”

Scattered laughter wove through eager, raspy throats. Even the Quarren were starting to chime in for the sport of it all. Not one among their motley crew were fond of humans. 

Atur, the Trandoshan who had wanted to keep the child to curry favor from the boss was losing his resolve quickly. The Devaronian slowly got up from his corner with a menacing stride. 

“Here—HERE!” gurgled Atur, defeated. With a choke, he raised the child for his crew to take. The infant mewled weakly but had still life burning in him. “Just don’t hurt m—“

What came next from the depths of further darkness among the mounting, rustling foliage surrounding the raider campfire were flashes of movement—perhaps even quicker than lightning.

A high, whistling sound of an energy weapon igniting filled the twilight, breaking through the fray. A shape flitted from out of nowhere and stormed in between Atur and the rest of the camp—

The fires blew flat for a second as though from a harsh, quick wind—then the flames were completely extinguished by an unseen culprit.

There were a series of muttered curses from the Quarren and a huff from the Devaronian, mildly inconvenienced yet half-alert; there were growls and grumbles from the Trandoshans, but what stood out most of all was the howling cry of pain from none other than Atur himself.

“MY ARM!!!” he moaned, holding up nothing but a fresh stump where the limb which held the infant once was not a second ago. “S-something cut my arm!!!” He fumbled and panicked, and Atur’s pronouncement of their camp being ambushed by an unknown attacker sent everyone into a mass of chaos. 

In the dark, the clanking of blasters and any form of weapon these thugs could get their hands on filled the pale void. 

Suddenly, there was only silence. Not even the wind swayed the tops of trees. The dead fires still emitted a carpet of smoke which threatened to swallow them whole, and only served as a screen to hide their attackers… if there were indeed more than one.

Who tracked them here? The villagers were too cowardly, too malleable with their hopelessness. The infant’s parents had helplessly watched their son get spirited away. These ruffians could still recall the faces of the mother and father, bloodied and dumbfounded, shaken and shocked. The Devaronian had even forgone the pleasure of slaughtering them. It was just too easy and there was no thrill in that…

But the thrill had turned into terror.

“WHO’S THERE?!” roared the Devaronian impatiently. He brandished his blade and on his hip, he had readied a blaster. 

A rustle came from behind.

Everyone fired at that general direction, but the momentary blinks of illumination only showed them that there was no one there… or whoever was there had quickly moved to another position…

The attackers could be anywhere, everywhere.

And their assailants seemed to be taunting them.

Even Atur had fallen quiet in his throes of agony. His breath hitched in the dark, trembling. 

They had tried in vain to listen to the baby’s cry… but whoever had taken the child along with Atur’s dismembered limb had found a way to keep it from uttering a sound.

Did the child perish along with the attack? 

A small child’s gurgle came from yet another direction. 

“There!!!” yelled a Quarren, and more fired at that new target area, while others held back; they used the flashes of light lent by the fiery bolts to see their way around as they scattered and circled their now ruined camp. 

They could definitely hear the infant once again. Its coo and gurgle sounded—to their disbelief—calm, unthreatened. The sound came from everywhere when no eyes could pinpoint the source.

Whoever their assailants were—they were playing mind tricks on them. There was no explanation. Each ruffian began to shake in both desperation and fury. This was not a good look at all. They were unwittingly at the mercy of an unseen foe!

This defiant and rare event of being caught unawares was gaining on their sensibilities. They were starting to hear voices…

Two or three?

Or just one voice… and it was a young voice of one no older than a child himself.

“Stay here,” said the disembodied young voice gently, soothingly; it was then followed by a small gurgle of what sounded like assent. They were surely losing their minds. Was a mere infant holding conversation with an older child’s ghost? The voice was clipped; its tone was seemingly filtered by a modulator.

“I’ll be back for you,” said the young, coherent voice—and then, once more, the sound of an igniting energy weapon… a lightsaber? The Devaronian had heard of it before… the boss had kept a trophy. But no. Not a lightsaber. It was higher pitched. It warbled, like an electronic, musical insect… mesmerizing like a song…

A thin blade of non-light streaked through the darkness. The warbling turned into a moan and a shriek—then three of the Quarren fell, their bodies thudding loudly on the rocky ground…

“Dank farrik!!!” yowled the Trandoshans as three tentacled heads rolled close their feet. 

They fired their blasters indiscriminately. One Trandoshan cried out, then fell lifeless, slaughtered by friendly fire.

It was Atur. The creature’s sightless eyes dimmed and the light in them was gone.

The Devaronian had tried to be resourceful. He used rock and metal from his blade as flint and steel, and with brisk and mighty friction caused a flame that lit the clearing. 

That was when they beheld their culprits—

—or rather, culprit.

It was a lone figure who stood atop a rocky mound, crouched and mind-bogglingly relaxed. Its form was slight and lithe, and not very tall—was it human? They couldn’t tell. It had a helmet on with a signature T-shaped visor…

“A Mandalorian!” sputtered the remaining Quarrens in shock. “How—?!“

Before they could add more words to their statements, the rest of the squid-like species dropped to the ground, two simultaneous blobs smacking sickeningly upon the loam. 

Three Trandoshans and one Devaronian were left standing. Abruptly, the spoils of their raids no longer mattered. Their lives were flashing before their eyes. There was more regret of not being able to do more dastardly deeds before they had their fill, than the regret of committing any of them at all.

The Devaronian blew forth another flame until it was a torch in his hold. The monster of a man threw the torch upon a pile of withered twigs, which set ablaze at once.

This seemed to distract the lone Mandalorian a little. Its gaze flitted to the spot where he had left the infant. The Mandalorian seemed male by the shape of its body and how the armor fit him. Yet… the armor on this particular iron-clad warrior was lacking. His vambraces were functional but not durable. The parts fastened upon him were his pauldrons and one chest piece; only an arm guard and a leg guard opposite of either sides shielded his lower body.

The rest of him were exposed with only the heavy fabric of his flight suit to cushion blows and blaster bolts.

The distraction was enough to send the Trandoshans to take better aim. They fired once more—

“Ha!!” one of them cackled as a bolt successfully hit the Mandalorian close to the neck, sending out a fountain of sparks. The voice behind the helm gasped and yelped—but more in surprise than in pain. 

The Trandoshans stared on, unbelieving, and the Devaronian let out a howl of frustration. They were firing madly at a single target and yet there was not a graze upon the rest of the Mandalorian. 

Beskar! was the unsaid word… precious and deadly. This warrior was indeed Mandalorian who knew how to utilize his armor.

The warrior then held his dark energy blade high, and they knew that it was that weapon which also deflected the shots.

The Mandalorian was young. They couldn’t see his face, but there was a youthfulness to his movements, to his motions, to his very drive. He had the impulsiveness of a child yet the calculatedness of an eager learner, still on their way of mastering a difficult craft. 

The Mandalorian’s heavy breathing had permeated the gloom. This gave the remaining thugs some leverage of assumption—the Mandalorian was indeed but a child, and perhaps losing heart and was becoming scared. 

“Most of you were bite but all we have left now is a bit of bark, eh?” challenged a Trandoshan to the young Mandalorian. The fires had grown bigger; the smoke coiling through the haze was dark and suffocating. That damn Devaronian had slowly transformed the forest into an inferno in a season where drought had barely ended—!

The Mandalorian muttered something brief; these warriors at the brink of extinction had a language of their own. While the Mandalorians were widely known to have spoken Basic, they still used their native tongue from time to time. It made little sense to use a language which one’s opponent didn’t understand, but it appeared to provide the little warrior some ballast.

The dark blade emitted a vindictive howl. 

This time, the Mandalorian struggled. The youth swung the blade with as much skill as he can muster, but whatever mettle which he had possessed in complete darkness had dwindled. In the growing fire, in the smoke, with the worry that the infant could be choking from the ashen plumes, his focus was broken apart. The energy weapon seemed to be picking up on the boy’s distress, and he began to falter in his steps.

The Trandoshans kept firing; the Devaronian fell into blows as the young Mandalorian reattempted to deflect the bolts and swerve out of harm’s way. The massive creature of a man managed to strike the boy at his side, and the Mandalorian toppled a little in mid-attack—

The Devaronian felt a relentless chill overtake him… and he roared his last breath as his horned head fell off his shoulders.

The frantic and visibly frightened Trandoshans emptied their blaster bolts at the Mandalorian as they saw their last stalwart ally fall. 

They fired in successive bursts without pause, and the incessant sound of blasts made ghastly music with the now-growing crackling blaze which, to their surprise and detriment, had swallowed them whole. Their scaly hides and their hollow cries all ceased to be, and the patch of forest had gone down with them… *

The village’s survivors witnessed the fires from afar grow enormous until the night sky was filled with the cursory brightness of daylight. 

To their gratitude, the dry spells were finally over. A quick and harsh rain had begun to sweep the flames away. The brief monsoon had to happen on this fateful night when a hellish blaze could’ve wiped out their already weakened shanty town. 

Out of forty villagers, only seventeen were spared. They were still maimed by grief and had only started burying their dead when the fire broke and the rains fell… followed by the sound of a gurgling child slowly approaching their fallen homesteads.

The muted yet frenetic tinkle of sheets of rain upon metal accompanied the babbling of an infant. It was the sound of water hitting helmet.

A shadowed figure loomed closer to the village and everyone dropped their work as a couple covered in soot and untended wounds dropped to their knees.

“Our baby—“ a young human woman uttered a choked whisper. She clung to a young man—her husband. 

A Mandalorian came into full view and stopped short in front of the baby’s parents.  

There should have been more fear and desolation stirring in the villagers’ souls upon the sight of a legendary warrior in the flesh, but everyone was tired, too tired. If the Mandalorian came to finish off the rest of them, they no longer had the strength to draw the meekest of arms.

But the Mandalorian made no move of aggression. The blankness of the young warrior’s visor stared at the couple for a moment, and a warm understanding slowly bloomed between them.

The Mandalorian wordlessly held the cradled child out; he had made certain that the child was carefully settled within his mother’s arms, whose body quaked so terribly that for a moment the young warrior thought the woman would drop her own baby. 

The child’s young father held his family close; he stood agape at the stranger who came upon them like a specter with their infant son in tow, swaddled with care and seemingly content despite the horrors the child may have encountered only minutes before.

“Th-thank you,” mouthed the baby’s father. The young man was weak from the strain of survival and the abrupt surge of hope that no sound emerged.

The Mandalorian nodded once, but decided to say something which took the couple aback.

“They won’t bother you anymore.”

The young warrior limped into the shadows from whence he appeared, and the rain came down in torrents so that the armored figure disappeared amidst it. When the rain relented as quickly as it had poured in, the mysterious Mandalorian had already long left the vicinity. ***

“Where on the Manda’s good name were you, Ragnar?”

Axe Woves’ drawl of contained worry filled the dawn air as the man observed his young apprentice shuffle in his boots, the boy dragging his steps as he made his way to the Kom’rk-class starfighter. It was the craft assigned to the mentor-student duo as they made their supply trips for their ever-continuous efforts to rebuild Mandalore.

The older Mandalorian held his patience long enough as Ragnar made no effort to reply.

Axe, to his ongoing frustration, couldn’t force cooperation from the boy. Ragnar’s moments of stubbornness were growing few and far in between, to be quite frank and fair. It took Axe painstaking attempts to get this lanky fifteen-year-old to diligently take his lead and fulfill his lessons in Mandalorian apprenticeship as best as he could.

And yet, how could he blame the boy?

He knew with all his heart that Ragnar would rather be by his father’s side. 

Two years—two years of the boy tolerating someone not of his father’s Tribe as his teacher, and yet Axe had willingly taken the responsibility when it was first presented to him by both Lady Kryze and the Armorer. 

The next option could have been Din Djarin, but the silver-clad Mandalorian had already an apprentice of his own through Grogu. The man’s little green son was quite the handful.

“Vizsla seemed to have entrusted you with our lives when he covered your exit to fetch reinforcements, Axe,” Bo-Katan had weighed in; even then, her eyes were unfocused and she sounded unsure. The only conviction left in her was bolstered when the Armorer confirmed that it was within Paz’s bull-headed nature to make peace with adversaries when the need was dire. Paz was the last warrior Axe has had a scuffle with. The hulking Mandalorian had since made sincere amends by the time they had accidentally discovered the Imperial base disgustingly embedded in the underbelly of their homeworld.

And Ragnar—the poor child; he was ready to jump into the hands of wherever fate took him, after Mandalorian scouts had discovered Paz in the state he was in. It was a grueling ordeal. 

For the first year, Ragnar was passive yet unyielding. He was silent and secretive but spoke when Axe merited an answer. Two forces warred incessantly within the child in the absence of his father. Ragnar had become both cold and compliant, obedient yet distant.

Now, as Axe’s gaze landed on Ragnar and his more awkward-than-usual strides, the man studied the boy. The child walked in a stoop, probably exhausted and visibly soaked to his underclothes. In these two years of mentoring the youth, Axe could ably enough read Ragnar’s expressions behind the helmet as well as his body language. 

“I have the water,” Ragnar’s reply came right before Axe decided to demand an answer. “Three villages didn’t have it but the fourth one did.”

The youth’s visor tilted to face him as he hefted two large containers filled with sloshing liquid with one hand. 

Axe smiled in spite of himself; the man had his own helmet on so Ragnar didn’t see it. It would otherwise take great effort to hoist the containers up as high as the boy did had Ragnar not been industrious with his strength training.

That did not explain, however, the child’s seemingly wounded gait. Axe frowned again.

“Are you all right, verd’ika?”

Ragnar’s visor stilled at his direction for a long minute, as though registering the query.

The boy nodded in silence; he said no more.

Axe sighed heavily. He couldn’t bear sensing the phantom grip of dormant rage taking hold of his charge. Ragnar was adamant with his choice of color when he repainted parts of his armor symbolically acquired from previous missions under his guidance. The boy wore the Vizsla crest faithfully on his chest piece, the only beskar plate of protection which covered his vulnerable upper body. Ragnar chose the left piece first, the part which covered his heart. The Vizsla crest was then emblazoned over it, a fitting place for such a significant signet.

The boy’s pauldrons had red stripes adorning both sides. Red, the color which symbolized honoring a parent. He kept the blue hues of his helmet; blue, the color of reliability, and the colors which Paz had decided Clan Vizsla should proudly carry from thereon.

The rosy glow of sunrise soon cocooned the skies of this moon where they had decided to make a pit stop for their fresh water supply. Under that gold and magenta light, Ragnar looked a tad more presentable. 

Axe’s brow creased.

“Ragnar—is that blaster burn on your flight suit?”

“NO.”

Axe flinched at Ragnar’s instant retort. It was defensive. It was most likely a lie, but Axe knew better than to interrogate the boy when he was clearly in need of nourishment and proper sleep. 

Once more, Axe sighed. How does one manage the capricious nature of an adolescent without being too heavy-handed? That was the trouble and the danger of mentoring an apprentice that wasn’t your own child. 

Axe couldn’t treat Ragnar as his own—a far cry from it. 

Not while Paz Vizsla was still…

“I’m ready to leave now,” Ragnar said abruptly, cutting through Axe’s somber train of thought. After a short while, the boy added respectfully, “Sir.”

“All right, then,” Axe acknowledged. He made a motion for Ragnar to board the Kom’rk and settle himself properly. “Get some breakfast and rest. We’ll head to the next system before returning to Mandalore. I need you to be in tip-top shape.”

“Yes, sir.”

The child was being obedient and distant, one too many times. Axe could reach Ragnar but only if the boy willed it. There will always be a wall between him and his apprentice, but Axe had to make the most of it. Ragnar was learning, after all, in spite of everything. In fact, the boy was a little ahead than the rest of apprentices his stage and age. There was determination in Ragnar that came in focused, rapid bursts—a sprint more often than a marathon.

Axe didn’t accost the child further when Ragnar decided to isolate himself in his personal bunk again. Lessons can wait for now. 

When the older Mandalorian took the Kom’rk to orbit and jumped to hyperspace, his only co-pilot were the sounds of water swirling in two full containers close to the spot where Ragnar usually sat.

“This is the Way,” Axe mumbled, a little bitterly and a little sadly, recalling the Tribe and their ancient, outdated practices. ***

A small, relieved sob escaped Ragnar as the boy kicked off his boots and crawled under the blankets of his bedding. Thankfully, Axe had allowed him his own quarters in the already cramped Kom’rk living areas. 

Ragnar had tried not to feel guilty over keeping a million secrets from the man who had whole-heartedly decided to become his teacher, despite Ragnar’s own unvoiced misgivings at first. 

He knew that Axe respected his father, and that was all—hell, that was everything—that mattered to the boy. 

Would Axe still respect him, his apprentice, Ragnar thought, should his teacher find out that he had discovered the ruined remains of the Darksaber discarded like a useless trinket among the charred husks of super commando clone armor… and through long days and nights of clandestine research, he had perseveringly pieced Clan Vizsla’s symbolic weapon together? Through long days and nights as he figured out the ancient weapon from the limited instances Lady Kryze wielded it before it was crushed in a duel with the enemy?

The hilt was not the same, but the crystal was there. It did take soul-draining convincing from him towards the Armorer. 

She was the only other authority Ragnar truly revered apart from his father. He couldn’t lie to her… and yet he had managed to persuade her to provide him materials for a new hilt. She had never found out what it was for. Oh, those were months of daring and scheming. Ragnar nearly loved the Armorer as he wholly loved Paz Vizsla. And Ragnar knew that the Armorer loved him with a fierce, wounded love of a beloved clan elder. 

It had hurt to hide things from her… but Ragnar needed his secrets. His very resolve thrived through those secrets. Ragnar had his own world, his own reality that he shared with no one…

…No one except his father.

Ragnar fished out a tiny comlink device soon after he had tucked the Darksaber back into a hidden sheath clipped on his belt flap. 

The boy took deep, nurturing breaths to relax his mind. His body still trembled from the effort he needed to hold his own from the encounter with a band of ruffians, and saving a tiny baby the night before. After he had restored the infant to his parents, Ragnar fled to cry himself to sleep in an even more deserted corner of the woods.

In gratitude, Ragnar thought how his helmet continued to conceal everything: his eyes swollen from a night of weeping, the profound tiredness in his eyes, the lies he kept in his gaze.

The Armorer had said that anyone from the Tribe was free to release themselves from their vow… they were free from the Creed of the helmet since their return to Mandalore, but even then, it was voluntary. It somehow pleased Ragnar that only a few among the Tribe had decided to take advantage of a revised verse in the Creed, despite it based on ancient song. Most of them, like himself, chose to keep the helmet on for various reasons. The Armorer herself kept her own buy’ce on.

“I will never take my helmet off,” Ragnar had promised himself, “as long as my father sleeps.”

Another deep breath; Ragnar had pressed the comms button which transmitted his heartfelt message to a beloved person parsecs away. 

“Dad,” Ragnar breathed into the tiny device. His voice seemed ephemeral but the hope he held in his quaking body held fast. 

Ragnar told Paz through the comms about his night in the forest. 

“You would’ve been proud,” the boy continued. A fresh deluge of tears fell from his cheeks. It was always like this, when he spoke to his father.  His teenage voice cracked as he spoke into the comms.

“I panicked, Dad,” Ragnar confessed. “What if the baby’s parents were dead? I’d have to tell Axe what happened. I’ll be tanned for sure.” The boy chuckled amidst his quiet weeping. “I thought to myself, that baby would be a foundling. Would he be my foundling since I rescued him, Dad? I don’t think you’re ready to be a grandpa yet. Besides, I’m only fifteen. You’ll tan my hide after Axe does.”

Ragnar’s laughter that broke through his sorrow felt more genuine somehow. 

“I’m fifteen now, Dad. Would you believe it? It’s been over two years since my verd’goten. Don’t worry, there’s no girls in the picture yet. I promise I’ll finish my apprenticeship even before I think about girls.”

Ragnar laughed again. He was feeling less alone.

“I love you so much, Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

He always ended his comms with those words, without fail. 

Ragnar set the comlink down, his hand falling like deadweight at his side. The boy forced himself not to feel empty once again. He closed his eyes tight and let his thoughts float further out, and felt the world alive around him in spite being in the middle of space travel. He could feel Axe’s sadness as the man piloted the ship alone in the cockpit, from where Ragnar sat in the semi-darkness of his bunk. 

The child kept his eyes closed.

I love you so much, Dad. I’ll see you soon.

The first statement had always rang true. Ragnar knew no greater truth and it even rivaled the Creed he swore on his thirteenth birthday, and had re-sworn months after before Mandalore’s Living Waters. 

The second statement, however…

Dad, Ragnar added in his thoughts. Will you see me soon?

The boy had drifted off to sleep with tears still in his eyes, underneath an unshed helmet. ***

The Armorer knew that Ragnar had contacted Paz again, but she dared not pry on what son had to say to his father.

Each member of the Tribe always had their own secrets, and she let them keep those secrets if it meant that they kept her trust as much as they kept to the Creed. 

Ragnar was no different, and yet she realized the child’s own special case.

She saw the many lights blinking in meaningful rhythm—green for the active comms close to Paz’s ear, a voice which only the man can hear, and yellow all over the bacta tank which the Armorer beheld. She keenly observed the medics going through their routine of checking on the patient within, who was locked in deepest slumber.

She fought tears in her eyes as Paz Vizsla’s once-immense and intimidating form was but one that had diminished: frail-looking and defenseless, suspended in a pod of healing liquid which merely prolonged his life in a comatose state.

Paz’s vitals remained stable—his heartbeat, his breathing, even his bodily functions of a system which had not taken food but simple, basic nourishment to keep the organs from failing completely. 

It was torture, seeing him like this, day in and day out for two years.

Two years. The Armorer marveled at how their people remained steadfast and kept rebuilding after two years, in the heated whispers over another growing enemy in the shadows.

In this moment, let that be Lady Bo-Katan’s concern. Now, the Armorer had this sacred hour of tending to Paz through the medics, who faithfully kept the man who was quite like a son to her alive and well… in a manner of speaking.

At the conclusion of the battle, the Mandalorian scouts immediately sent to scour the aftermath had found Paz propped against a wall, surely dead… yet there he had been, barely alive and breathing in ragged, pained gasps. 

Din Djarin had informed her that Grogu found him first, as animatedly narrated by the toddler in his amusing process of speech. Djarin’s son had tried his best to heal the hulk of a warrior… but as the little green child had discovered, as long as the patient was unconscious, he had no full consent; therefore Paz’s own will to live was the only factor which had met the child’s healing powers halfway. Grogu did what he could… the rest would be up to Paz. This was the state which Paz’s spirit, Grogu had tried to express, had insofar allowed. What a wonder of nature Grogu remained for anyone who encountered the child.

Paz’s body took a fatal beating, and yet the man lived and continued to do so before her eyes. The Armorer hadn’t ceased thanking the Manda for long periods afterward when she had been informed that there were bacta tanks ready for use—equipment, apparently, left by the Remnant for their own benefit. 

Since Moff Gideon was deemed to be no more, anything useful that they could salvage from the wreck was considered treasure. Three fully functional bacta tanks were among the goods which would otherwise be a medical luxury across a war-torn Outer Rim.

They were able to heal a few more through the two tanks otherwise unoccupied by her most faithful warrior. There were those who still perished in the intense battle to reclaim Mandalore—Paz truly was one of the luckier ones.

But how cruel, the Armorer thought in silent despair… how cruel fate was that while Paz lived, he was not truly living. While his heart beat, did it continue to love with its fiery, customary passion the son and a Creed he had sworn lifelong allegiance to? 

Comatose… two years, two improbable years…

The Armorer heaved a melancholy sigh. 

The medics had told her and so she relayed to Ragnar that while his father was in a deep sleep, there were parts of his brain that remained active. In Ragnar’s heart, his father listened, even in this deepest slumber. They had scanned Paz’s brain, had checked his neural reactions as well as his muscular ones. Both were continually stimulated by regulated pulses of energy to stave off atrophy. 

The respirator mask measured his breaths; the rhythm remained effortless and even. A specialized helmet still covered Paz’s face, fully respectful of the man’s will in not breaking the Creed, even as the Armorer had made the vows more lenient in the light of their return to Mandalore.

Paz was not brain-dead. With that fact, Ragnar sought hope. The Armorer sought hope and unspeakable comfort in it was well…

“Yet you continue to dream, ner ad’ika.” In her most vulnerable moments, the Armorer had allowed herself to call Paz her child. It was what Paz’s own mother would have wanted before her demise when Paz was but a small child himself, and Lady Vizsla had sent her son under the care of a goran—a blacksmith.

“Dream well, then,” the Armorer whispered. “Listen to the voice of your son. Ragnar always calls to you, even when the comlink does not transmit. Listen to my voice as well, beloved warrior. Come back to us when you are ready.”

In the meantime, the Armorer repeated in her heart, numbering the countless stars as she wished Paz’s own heart would beat many times over—

Dream well.

*****

Mando'a chapter glossary: *verd’ika - little soldier *buy’ce - helmet *verd’goten - Mandalorian coming-of-age ritual usually done at thirteen years old *Manda - the Mandalorian Oversoul similar to the afterlife *ner ad’ika - my child

Link to "A Child of the Watch" series/collection - AO3

Link to next chapter - AO3 || Tumblr

[nvrcmplt]

" Oh! " Reid perks up, beaming a very excitable smile up at the werewolf. " You're the guy that took my virginity! Uh, Yasushi, right? " And as if it were a natural occurrence, Reid spreads his legs to hook on either side of the shifters hips, cheeks reddening when he feels the tip of Yasushi's cock tease his opening. The familiar was forced to tilt his head back in order to look the much larger beast in the eyes, " I— I don't think we r—reeaaa—aah—lly got to talk l—last time. " Toes curl when his folds are spread open, body already adjusted to taking Yasushi's cock and Reid fists his hands desperately into the fur surrounding the werewolf's shoulders. " W—we don't gotta— ooh fuck.. T— talk actually, m—may... be later. "

To be remembered after something like this was pretty cute, it made the beast shudder with a wrinkling of the nose. Sniffing his way down their throat as usual as he slotted himself in open thighs. The invitation was way hotter than most would think to believe for a creature like himself but the delight of him being invited, greeted and with no resistance to his hips lowering and pressing his prick between wet folds of their opening? Yeah - there was nothing better. His ears flexed backwards as his tongue lulled with drool, huffing as his shaft was taken inch by inch into the wet cave, deeper and deeper until finally he was to the root. Rubbing his furred pelvis into place, making sure every part of him was inside of them.

Yasushi's nostrils flared and throat rumbled in delight as he lowered his gaze to stare upon them speaking on, he didn't know they still were but he was a fan of it. At least they weren't crying or stopping him this time from virginity-blues or aches and pains he did his best the first time to quell. Instead, his tongue moved to swipe down Reid's cheek and jaw, nudging the smaller being between his arms to hold closer with palms cupping behind their back and shoulders. Rolling back onto his rump, and holding them open just as wide with much easier access to licking into their mouth for kissing and greeting - Yasushi grumbled in the only warning Reid would get before his arms began to move their smaller frame on his dick like they were naught but a flesh light.

Plugging them repeatedly on his hilt, shamelessly making their body be used to the fullest of his size, praised with muzzle nudging at their chin and chest, to lick over pectorals and nipples, to whine in bliss against their throat, fangs sharp but gentle on their shoulder as he fucked, fucked and fucked. Later, they could talk, but for now, Yasushi's tongue hung as he panted heavily over their shoulder as his cock thickened and balls lifted to give Reid the first and several coatings of his seed for the night. And oh - how he'd be using Reid the most, solely because he was happy to snarl and growl at any other that tried to get their turn here. No - no, this one was his.

[dankusner]

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE THONG

FASHION

The evolution of the Y-shaped form known as a thong spans an inspired reversal of function:

from a cord used to yoke shoes to foct, to the solitary strip meant to liberate the ass, the latter usage made popelar after Austrian-American fashion designer Rudi Gemeeich reinvented the minimalist garment in 1974.

Nearly four centuries prior, William Shakespeare anticipases this tum from adherence to emancipation — a horse, in his play Venus and Adonis, inspired by a passing mare's beauty, throws off his thong. this time a riding crop delivering bondage, to give his backside free rein:

Throwing the base thong from his bending crest,

Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast.

"Free your mind… and your ass will follow,"

Funkadelic preached with the title of their second album.

It's good advice - though I've yet to take it.

The only thong I've ever owned was given to me by my high school best friend Kim; i

t was nod crushed velvet and meant to resemble Santa Claus's stocking cap turned upsidedown,complete with a white puffball dangling at the sac's end.

I never put the thong on, not even to see what my ass would look like in its frame or how free my mind would feel, still too closeted a boy to know about the pleasure of placing the thong's strip between my cheeks.

This feature, originally a part of the jockstrap, a garment since rodesigned for maximal access, in the said holiday-themed underpant, suggestod a rude impodiment to Santa's passage down the chimney, albeit a flimsy one.

But this was the early aughts, just after Sisqo's infamous stutter -thong-th-abong-thong-thong - which in retrospect seemed to articulate my shy refusal to don the gift, had ushered in the thong's ubiquity.

The mega-hit's video finds the Spring Break bardo in a ncar trance, fixatod on a rump so unfettered by the thong that the ass becomes one with the beat — da na da na, baby, make your boory go. da na da na - as if this thin sliver of a garment were all we ever sooded to frame the feeling of pare immerchee A docade after Gomecich introduced his tits-out mosokini, a garmett condemeed by boch the Vatican and the Soviet Union during the post- sexual revolucion '20s, the designer invented the thong as a oc-piece swimsuit for all gcoders.Thegoalwastogetascloseaspossible to public nudity while still aboding by the city ofLosAngeles'sbanagainstnudesunbathing- Gemreich's intcrest in "unisex" fashion was notaninvitationforwomentodressmoce like men. but for men to retum to dressing well. In its later sartorial iterations, the thong went from revelation (exposing as much skin as possible to sunlight) to obfuscation (spuring celookers evidence of a pantylise) to suggestion (as in the whale tail, remind- ing us there's an ass under even the thickest denim). Some eschew the thong, especially the notorious G-string, for medical reasons. though scientific trials have vindicated fash- ion's butt floss from socusations that it senves as a back-to-front vehicle for either bacterial or fungal transport. And yet others continue to wait patiently for an option where comfort and stimulation might find better alignment: "Imk," a friend recently asked of me, "if you find out about a contemporary thong that doesn't cut off clitoral circulation (and sorry for the tmi!!!)." The thong is an ideal garment for maintain- ing contradiction: for hiding the cosmos of one's genitals while letting it all hang out; a loosening of the reins that Icads to sensuous repurposing. The thong asks us to imagine cuming, felly, to a state of nature. Personally, 1 like picturing the disaffected young men of Aurelio Guo's book-length poem NYT (Gauss PDF 2018), those Loser sons of successful fathers / Drinking coca cola from a plastic bottle in the grey sand in a black thong." Those who aspire to be winners instead might opt for a bright color, the better to attract the attention of the hottest horse.

TEXT BY SHIV KOTECHA PHOTOGRAPHY BY ABI BENITEZ DAVID WEARS THONG BY SYS COMPANY.

[aquariuminfobureau]

Over recent years the Vietnamese mossy frog, Theloderma corticale, has become commonplace in zoo reptile houses, and much more common in the exotic pet trade. This is a frog with good sexual size dimorphism, and the females, being the larger sex, can reach 9 centimeters or 3 and a 1/2 inches in snout to rump length, whilst the males are about an inch smaller by this same measurement. Vietnamese mossy frogs are members of the faunal community present in South Chinese provinces, and the northern, cooler areas of Laos and Vietnam.

Zoologically the frogs of the genus Theloderma nest among the important rhacophorid clade, that is named for the captivating flying frogs of genus Rhacophorus. The stunning Mantella frogs of Madagascar, also have a rhacophorid identity, or if they are not they remain closely allied to them. Rhacophorid frogs in fact nest among frogs with a history of being assigned to the ranid grouping, per their pre-cladistic definition.

Although rhacophorids are often characterised as arboreal frogs, a number of rhacophorid species, including members of the genus Theloderma, are much better categorized as non-arboreal anurans. Although rhacophorids might be called Asian tree frogs, no one believes they are related to the 'true' or hylid tree frogs, some of which are also not arboreal.

Vietnamese mossy frogs actually live close to the ground, in submontane primary forests in association with rocks and hollowed logs. They are always found around water, and they require humid air. When resting they collapse dorsoventrally, and their camouflage as moss is highly effective, making them very difficult to spot.

The regions where T. corticale is native have a seasonal climate, with monthly variations of average temperature, and of precipitation under the influence of the monsoon regime. Although submontane, subtropical environments are not as hot year round as those in the tropical lowlands, the air temperature may be warm in the summer. Koln Zoo has been breeding this species with a daytime air temperature, of 26 to 29 degrees centigrade. and an air humidity of 55 to 90%.

The water temperature was reported as 24 to 28 degrees, and the pH was 8. It might be relevant that wild T. corticale inhabit karst forest, where the geology happens to be limestone. These are not arboreal frogs, and they do not swim actively for long periods of time. Therefore although they are suited to an aquaterrarium, they do not need a large expanse of water. The footprint of the vivarium is at least as important than it's height, although it should be tall enough to allow them some natural clambering behavior.

Theloderma sp. are not very active frogs in any case, so they do not need a very large living space relative to their body sizes. The terrarium decor should include rocks, and also feature wood, because they are found in association with roots and hollow logs. If they can access water, as they should be able to, they must easily be able to get out again. Thus there should easily be shallows in the aquarium.

T. corticale are often housed with other animals in zoo exhibits. As a species they are inoffensive to other animals that they will not see as prey, and they easily cohabit with appropriately sized, peaceful species that use different areas of the same exhibit. T. corticale have been known to eat very small fish, so they should not be housed with animals they might be able to gulp down. For reference they usually eat items no longer, than the distance between their eyes.

[artcallednaturalviews]

Wake Up Trump!

Go back to bed until Wednesday…….

You’re having a bed dream

Nights night rump T

Now cross the thumb

[artcallednonsensed]

Some Shows should be speckled

Here are my Toe Nails

Grown just for the congratulations of growth

And clipped & edited

Some lighting makes natural

Or super nonsense in black suit and yellow hived tied

Artcallednaturalviews

Rump T is no bumble

Who would think while buzzing around

Trump right hand figure

Told me to clip toes nails

He that Rump T, speaks to me from

We all know T

Let’s champions

How may champions from any Era

Any god damned sports

Any damn pilot/politician

Been flying since

That help World Society ?

Fucking records in books

Redacted cuss word?

Now Answer

Any Leader!

[eviesessays]

30. Who is the wisest person you've known? What have you learned from them?

I began this story thinking about all the brilliant people I would like to emulate.  Then I realized the question was actually concerning people I knew who inspired me.  The first person who came to mind was my friend, David.  He was so intellectually superior to me that it actually seems strange that we have remained friends for more than 30 years.  We met when we were coworkers at McLean Hospital, a psychiatric institution that had a very large research department and was Harvard’s teaching facility.  He was incredibly patient with the clients.  I never acquired that level of patience that seemed to come effortlessly to David.  I never acquired his understanding or appreciation on classical music. Despite the fact that he is legally blind enough to have had a Boston T pass he completed Medical School at Harvard.  He is currently head of a neuro oncology in a large teaching hospital.  He never flaunted his wisdom and if I learned anything from David, it was that I could be a much better, kinder and contemplative person.  His two little daughters leave him and his wife little notes about where they  fall short as parents.  I cannot believe that.

I always admired my brother, Kip who never complained about his illness.  He seldom told people about it.  He was a very funny person.  Although we have related congenital heart defects, mine only became apparent later in life.  I can only strive to accept the inevitable with the grace and humor with which Kip dealt with life.

I always admired my classmate and friend, Betty. She always did and said the right thing and she did so with a slight British accent.  She came by this very honestly as both her parents were born in England and retained much of their accents.  Betty had a German Shepherd Dog she named Otto Von Bismark and we called Otto, for brevity.  Her sense of propriety was inspirational.

I think I am inspired daily by my children, grandchildren and now my great grandchildren.  Heather has retired from a career in accounting. Jaylyn writes beautifully and I hope will begin writing a book now that she is retiring from a successful career in the editorial Department of MIT’s Lincoln Lab.  She is currently very busy being a grandmother.  Robin made a successful move from San Raphael CA to Myrtle Beach, SC.  Her eye for decorating is wonderful and her new home reflects that.  Peter has had an interesting career in Engineering and as I write is on his way home from a business trip to Arizona. He inspires me to keep moving, sometimes to my chagrin.  

I did not smoke in high school or Nursing school but when I married a smoker I took up the filthy habit. My children all knew better.  They acquired pictures and posters from the American Cancer Society.  One poster pictured a haggard, wrinkled woman with a cigarette hanging from the far left corner of her mouth.  The caption said, “Smoking is Debonair”.  This hung by the kitchen door where it could not be missed or ignored.  I foolishly continued this filthy habit into my late 30’s until one day when Peter asked me how badly I would feel if one of my children had cancer because I smoked.  That was it.  I threw my cigarettes into the trash with the coffee grounds and never smoked again. 

My grandchildren, without exception, are all intellectually enviable.  Hillary and Harry both graduated in the top 10 in their class of 400 plus.  Both have successful careers.  Anne reads as she breaths. She is very creative and this is displayed in her home she is decorating. Diggs, teaches school in England after several years teaching English in Japan. Will has a command of nature that I envy. He knows the names of all the varieties of moss that once was my lawn.  He asks if I saw the yellow rumped warbler that flew by.  I would not likely recognize it again if I did see it.  Kalote finished her degree i teaching and after a year of challenging student teaching and a year of teaching in New York at a challenging salary, she is back in the Boston area with a lucrative position in real estate.  I would never in my wildest dreams, thought of writing stories of my life.  She has inspired me at the age of 87 to tell her those stories that I hope she will share long after I am gone.  Kalote also once inspired me to help her make a pillow for her boyfriend.  It was to be in the shape of his favorite cassette tape.  Not only did I have trouble visualizing this, I was certain it could not be done.  We made the pillow.  This inspiration is in the same category as Anne needing 18 costumes for the play she had written and was presenting two days hence.  

Joan Clementine is five years old now and after the most frightening and inauspicious start in life at Tufts Neonatal Nursery  she is a delight.  She has exceeded all prognostications of her progress.  She swims like a fish.  She now reads to her little sister, Lolli.  Everett is four now and named after me.  He is a very sweet little boy who still has a lisp.  He announced in a face time phone call yesterday that they are having a new baby in September.  What joyous news.  Lolli (Laura) is two and a half now.  She loves being read to and listens attentively  She is clear in all her instructions and gives them freely.  She likes having tea parties even with imaginary tea.  Murphy, at age two  sings songs from her favorite movie, “Frozen”.  Today she sent me a text message.  It was six lines of emojis.  I look forward to continually be inspired by all these wonderful people in my life.

[martianbugsbunny]

OUAT Thoughts Pt.41--Episodes 18-19

I have watched through S4E19; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—This is a fun, new kind of pain! I think this time it’s not so much an emotional stabbing as it is having a cheese grater taken to my heart. Interesting.

—In case you couldn’t tell, this is about Rump. I really need him to be playing a longer game to actually avenge his son, or I’m gonna be mad as hell at him. How can he work with that witch with a B? What an ARSE!

—That horse-vs-bicycle chase through New York is without a doubt one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

—I fricking hate Zelena. And yet I get the strong feeling that I will hate her more by the time she actually dies.

—This is an oddly brilliant take on Robin Hood. He’s not just a thief by occupation, he’s a thief in his heart, but he wants to find a way to use his thieving nature to help others. That’s deep.

—Will Scarlett’s clothes in Oz were gorgeous.

—Robin giving Will that heart potion (reverse pickpocketing him, no less) was wonderful. I love Robin for being a noble scoundrel.

—It is impossible to make a goodguy out of someone who kills dogs, and I’m deeply pleased that this show didn’t even bother. We got a solid fakeout for a hot second there, but actually Cruella is just evil at her core. That’s what doggy-killers are.

—Poor Pongo. He’s having a *ruff* day.

—Fun little reference that Cruella’s favorite song was the Cruella song from 101 Dalmatians. And that song goes hard for no reason.

—If Emma goes evil, does Lilith revert to her original state? (I am going to keep calling her Lilith, not Lily, because Lilith is one of the coolest names possible. Especially for the daughter of an evil sorceress.) It would be pretty fly if Lilith returning was what saved Emma.

—Although I’m pretty sure Lilith still hates her, so….

—Cruella’s flapper-style dress was gorgeous. I adore that fashion—the beads, the sparkles, the T-strap shoes, the fluttery drapery bits, the headbands—it’s gorgeous. And flappers are kinda girls gone wild, dancing at all hours at what have you.

—As I was watching, I was all, “lol, did he write ‘Cruella can’t dance?’” But no, it was actually a little bit deep. I can’t believe they actually made killing the thing that Cruella loved most.

—The Author still gets little to no sympathy. He’s not doing what Authors are supposed to do. But, he talks about stories the way I wax poetic about them in my wormy little brain. Before he went against the Authors’ Code, he was a pretty cool guy.

—I love that New York is consistently the place used to horrify displaced fairytale characters. There is no city in the nearby area that is worse.

—Seeing Rump in a hospital was weird as heck. And terrible. Seeing a body in a hospital like that inspires just about the most unequivocal feeling of helplessness possible, and I’m glad I’ve only had to do that once for a person in real life. I mean, other than going to visit my mom after my kid sibbies were born, but that’s a lil different. Anyway, it’s even worse when he’s supposed to be sustained by magic, because in this show “real” world methods are generally a last resort.

—But the physical implications of dark magic are intriguing. We’ve seen the darkening of a heart before, but not what that does to a person physically, and I think it’s pretty fascinating, even if it is taking Rump down.

—We have now established for sure that killing the Author just passes the mantle on, so we’ve got some possibilities opening up here. Manifesting Author Henry, please and thank you.

—Seriously, I’m really mad that Zelena survived. I hate her. I want her to be dead. I don’t even want her alive for the satisfaction of getting to see her die again. She disgusts me. And she’s still a huge brat! *shakes fist threateningly in Zelena’s direction* *that’s actually just the TV* *works well enough*

—I need Regina to get her happy ending. I need her to not be the one to kill Zelena, also, because she doesn’t deserve the emotional damage of killing her sister—even if her sister does suck. Maybe while Emma’s feeling evil she could just take care of Zelena real quick?

—The Sheriff of Nottingham is a loser. He should get a swift kick in the nuts.

—I think I might’ve liked real Marian. She’s tough, and she’s loyal to Robin, and her fashion sense is right on! That cloak? Yes yes.

[feelingbluepolitics]

They have their reasons. They aren't "good" in any sense of the word.

"[A]fter more than a decade of McConnell’s obstructionism and half a decade of the GOP capitulating to [t]rump, the fact that Manchin, Collins, and Murkowski seem genuinely surprised that they couldn’t get 10 Republicans to agree to this is almost more maddening than the expected filibuster itself. It’s only natural, after all, for the perpetrators of a crime to want to avoid an investigation into it. The people who can’t recognize that, even as they seek accountability? They’re the disappointments. 'If your negotiating partner gets everything they asked for and still won’t agree,' wrote Ian Bassin, founder and executive director of Protect Democracy, 'you don’t have a good faith negotiating partner.'"

And that goes for Collins and her endless amendments, too.

Murkowski? Is she the best of the worst? No, she's right in there with them. After the way she maneuvered back into the Senate, she, more than any, knows of the option to call herself an independent and caucas with whichever side she believes in at any moment. She's a Republicon. Her role is to trot out as a Republicon, like clockwork, and garner some seemingly moral points to provide her party with on-going slack to act continuously in heinous, nation-destroying ways.

Manchin? He also got everything he asked for -- a laboriously negotiated and entirely, meticulously, bipartisan proposal -- that didn't work because Manchin's Senate killed it, like everyone knew would happen. He doesn't have any good faith either. His faith is absolutely wrong. Grotesque, under the circumstances. Manchin is to the filibuster as Republicons are to trump: a horrible thing held up to obeisant reverence even if it wrecks our country.

Manchin is so entirely wrong, that he is on target to be ultimately the reason why Republicons can -- and will -- destroy American democracy, to replace it with a trumpian autocracy. The one infinitesimal sliver of good news in the meantime is that Manchin is now unlikely to make it official and join his Republicon friends in their party, because they made him forever the fool with their determination to block truth and national security at any cost, and their utter indifference to providing "ten solid patriots."

[eyelikemthicc]

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[yamithediaperdork]

Crime and Punishment: Jail Bird Diaries (MHA)

Crime and Punishment: Jail bird diaries

*The following is the entries from a diary recovered from the cell of one Katsuki Bakugo after serving his time in the regression jail. certain entry's have been removed as the writing was unable to be made out.*

Week 2, Day 1

So after a fucking week in this stupid fucking hell hole they dare to call a good idea, It's been suggested to me by the stupid AI I have to refer as daddy that I might calm myself down and stop adding time to my stupid fucking sentence if I vent in this stupid fucking book. I pointed out I can barley hold this stupid fucking crayon with the mittens i have to wear but a hand just came out of the wall and patted my head, telling me I'm a clever boy and I'll figure it out. I would of added anther two months onto my sentence right then and there if it wasn't for these fucking glove, even if Maybe kinda sorta..the head pat felt nice. ANYWAYS! to any assholes reading this, expect lots of fucking cursing because daddy said I can swear all i want in here and I have a back flow I need to get out. I mean with all the stupid fucking bull shit I have to put up wi- And fuck me, shitting myself again. fuck this place sucks.

Week 2, Day 2

You just know it's gonna be a shit fucking day Diary when you wake up to the feeling of having a uber load in the seat of your pants patted and rubbed and being praised for being a super good pooper. I'm already not a fan of the super bulky diapers these bastard keep me in but 'daddy' has apparently registered me as a super pooper and states anything thing less wouldn't hold up to my boom booms. refer to my statement about earning more time in here from the last entry for my feelings on THAT! I had figured with the massive bulk of these things at least I wouldn't have to worry about any cutesy outfits save for some t-shirt but since apparently I pissed off god, guess fucking what? No really, Guess. If you guessed they went and adjusted some of the sleepers that all the other big babies in here sleep in to fit over my massive diaper ass then ding ding ding! winner winner chicken dinner. Picture me, a man known as a murder god..and in a blue full body fuzzy care bear style with a white tummy and 'har har' the grumpy bear symbol on the belly. Fucking thing even has a hood! I swear if it wasn't for the fact the thing was soooo soft and kinda comfy, I would of found a way to rip it off. and I don't care WHAT daddy claims, I only dropped right off to sleep in it because he drugged my milk, not because I felt warm and safe. Fuck this place!! I never thought I'd be semi ok with the stupid paw patrol t-shirt and my giga diapers on display.. anyways wrapping this up, apparently I'm having more fucking visitors today. fucking yay..

Week 2, Day 3

Oh my fucking god. yesterday would just NOT fucking stop. apparently it was some sort of official visitors day or some bull shit like that. 4 fucking visitors and three of them not fucking Deku who's trying to make it a point to show up every day as support. first up was mister shock and awe himself Denki. He just couldn't get that stupid grin off his face and kept gushing about how cute I was and how much he wished he could of came in and given me butt pats. I was about ready to snarl that he couldn't when a couple of daddies arms came and took a firm hold on me to keep me from bolting and then the cell door opened up. "Come on in! Katsuki can use all the butt pats he can get. I know he'll act like he hates them but all little guys like him love them." Daddy said. Like, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK! So in from that stupid blond and the door shuts and daddy tells me to turn around and present my rump for pats. Like I was gonna fucking listen to THAT and turned around to tell the speaker box his voice comes from as much and well.. Ok You see my mistake? I swear I was turning to tell daddy off but according to him and Denki I turned around like a good little boy eager for my bum pats and before I could get a god damn word out that's what was happening. talk about major fucking blushing going on and gah, not proud to say this but without a second thought i spread my legs a little so that he could get a better pat going on and it MIGHTA of sorta felt nice for all of 0.0000001 seconds! Daddy and Denki are lying sacks of shit when they say i coo'ed! Basically spent the rest of Denki's visit after that over his lap, getting butt pats and back rubs and being told just how cute I am and how much he prefers me like this. if it wasn't for the fact punching a visitor would of netted me a extra year I woulda slugged him. that the only reason i went along with it..

after a hour he left and Daddy was praising me for being a super good boy and rewarded me with chocolate milk in a bottle instead of the normal formula and put some power rangers instead of paw patrol on TV.  I mighta zoned out holding my bottle with both hands cuz of the mittens and chugging and watching that I didn't notice my next guest till I heard the giggle. whipping my head around and giving me one hell of a neck ache thats still kinda here, I saw what looked like a school girls outfit standing up on it's own and knew it was Tooru. "oh my gosh don't stop because of me! that was sooo cute! I wish they hadn't of taken away my cell phone i would of taken the cutest video!" she gushed and clapped. I held up both hands and because of the mittens she thought I was showing I wanted uppies but I think you know what i was really doing Diary. Of course daddy let her in too and she kept giving me heads and patting my head and asking daddy all sorts of questions about my treatment and like.. ugh. I felt like a toddler getting hugs and attention but ignored while the adults talked. she tugged me onto her lap and kept rocking me and tickling my tummy and it took me awhile to figure out what she was trying to do, she was trying to make me crap myself during her visiting time! well she left half disappointed because even though i was cramping, all i did was wet my diapers so I'll count it as a win. ...that said about 10 seconds after she left I was squatting and totally loading these stupid diapers to the brim.

Thankfully for what tiny bit of pride I've managed to hold onto, while my diaper change took what fucking seemed like forever, I was re-diapered and daddy was in the process of tossing the stinky one when my next guest arrive. because I'm Mr. fucking popular. It was Deku of course and because he's been here so often he's got a special pass that just lets him come in. He was in the middle of saying hi when his nose wrinkled and then he covered it and coughed a little . "oh, somebody just had a diapie change I uh..smell." he said sheepishly. "Oh yeah, little guy is living up to his label as a super pooper." Daddy said. "oh my god freaking stop calling me that!" I whined and uh..Maybe didn't help with trying to give off a big boy image because I was still on the changing table and grabbed a stuffed bear and put it over my face. "oh my gosh, CUTE!" Deku squealed and daddy was laughing. Like..fuck. it's bad enough when the shit they're making me do gets that reaction..then i fucking set myself up for it. getting off of the changing Table me and Deku did our normal catch up and I once again begged him to try and get the other kids in 1-a to stop coming here, telling him about Denki and Tooru. the green haired bastard just told me everyone missed me and wanted to make sure I was doing ok and not to be such a grumpy Gus. I swear I almost took the extra year right then and there. Instead I switched the convo to talking about what was going on at school and what I had missed and yeah.. it was kinda nice catching up a little bit. I hadn't dared asked till now worried it might just trigger a fit that was going to add time on you know? and Deku was nice, not rubbing it in or at least trying not to that they were going on bigger and more exciting field trips and shadowing full on heroes this week. I think it helped that while we talked I started to color in one of the coloring books Daddy provided and Deku joined in, though his picture was colored in a lot better then mine cuz well he has full use of his hands. As his time ran out and it was time for him to go, Deku made me blush like crazy when he asked if he could have the picture I colored to hang up on his wall and asked if I'd color more pretty pictures for him. being at a lost of words, I just nodded my head.

After Deku left daddy said it was time for a quick lunch and then a nap, I was clearly worn out and had one more person to go. I just sighed and went along with it because it's not like I would of really had a say in it anyways. again apparently my behavior for the day was having a effect on my dining choice because while I was put in the same high chair I normally was, instead of yucky baby food I got some cut up chicken nuggets and fries. I wonder how good I'll have to be to score a medium rare steak? anyways, after lunch and a burping I was put down for a nap and woke up to the sound of the door to my nursery prison. I was still groggy and stuff so when I rolled over and looked up to see the face of my mother, i just thought I was dreaming for a second and gave a tiny giggle and ugghhh.. say "hi Mommy." it wasn't till she broke out laughing I realized she was really there. She was..very amused to say the least and told me she had canceled the cruise she was on and flew back home as soon as she could when she'd found out the news. she mentioned that she had been made aware that there WAS a option to give me a form of parole in that I could go and move back in with her for the term of my sentence and she could let me get away with just pull ups and she had been thinking about exercising it..Until she fucking saw me in here and saw how 'natural' I looked like a big baby! I'm...I'm not proud to say I mighta of broken down bawling and begging her to let me come home with her, and ugh.. as I got more hysterical I ended up promising to be the bestest little boy ever. Mom just hushed me and picked me out of the crib I'd been in and hugged me to her chest, patting my squishy bottom (Hey, all the milk i had before going night night, you'd of wet yourself too!) I realize i never covered this before but i had been put down for my nap in just my diapers so there's THAT fun mental picture of me in my booties and mitts and soggy huggies and Mom cuddling me and trying to calm me down. I was bawling and hiccuping when she popped a paci in my mouth and sat down on a rocking chair that daddy provided and with me curled up in her lap rocked back and forth talking about how I had just proven this place was doing wonders for me and then started to ask daddy questions about where to get supplies. curled up close to mommy and hearing her heartbeat.. I..Fell back asleep.

Thankfully no ones coming today, not even Deku since he's busy..I just don't know if I could handle it after yesterday. and yeah, the rest of the day after I fell asleep in mom's lap was just a blur. fuck.. I need to get out of here.

Week 2, Day 6

Know I ignored you for a bit there kinda Diary, I went to write in you but just came out all mixed up and crossed it out. I've mostly docile since Mom's visit and uh..kinda sorta.. I dunno. Kinda wish Deku would come by. I know he's got that big shadowing All might thing going on but..Fuck. I dunno. Daddy keeps going on about me almost hitting a critical point in the program and I don't know about that..I just..I almost wish mom HADN'T of told me about how i could of been at home you know? I was struggling with this before finding that out. I'm spending the day in my sleeper t'day, I just wanna feel all..I don't fucking know.. small and safe? and that helps with it and daddy was more then understanding when I asked to. It just has to come off when I'm eating and stuff and well, semi gone back to the baby food but still getting milk milk. and the baby food is a yummy flavor at least. I dunno Diary, I think thats it for today. Katsuki out.

Week 3, Day 5

Man, looking back on the past couple of entries I did between here and last week and even I can't make out what the heck I wrote. guess a semi recap is in order. Midoriya ended up visiting me during supper on day six of last week and asked if I had any more pretty pictures for him. I hadn't thought I'd actually done any but I guess in the semi daze I'd been in I had and daddy brought them out for him. I told him about mommy visiting and he was really sympathetic and agrees that she shouldn't of told me about the possible parole if I wasn't gonna get it, He had known but well.. knowing my mom like he does had already figured out what she'd picked. He just didn't wanna get my hopes up. Daddy let him take over feeding me and I dunno..it was kinda nice and stuff. we watched a bit of TV after till I started farting lots and Midoriya tactfully left before I ended up going poopies in front of him saying he knew I was in a fragile place and promised to visit the next day. Day 7 was basically the normal same old same old, got out of my sleeper, breakfast and a diaper change then playing with my toys and watching tv till Midoriya showed up. He joined in on a awesome game of Teddies VS Building blocks and I was uh.. kinda giggling like a real little guy and sooo relaxed that I didn't notice something till he brought it up, wrinkling his nose. "Katsuki, did you go poo poo?" He asked. Well, of course I said no because I hadn't felt myself go but then I got a whiff of myself and god, that was sooo embarrassing!! Midoriya ended his visit early as he knows I hate being watched during a change, but told me how much of a good boy I was and that made me blush and smile. After he left and I was all nice and clean from the poopie diaper daddy didn't dress me though, it was time for a bath and a section of the wall opened up and I was led to a fair sized tub and allowed to get in myself. Daddy got me all washed up as the tub filled up and even trusted me without my booties and mittens, though with the wall having sealed up behind me there wasn't really anywhere I could run to. with me all squeaky clean he let me play in the tub for a while as there were some toy boats and a few sea monsters and it was wayyy more relaxing then the quick showers I'm used to. finally when i was all pruney daddy drained the tub and dried me off with a nice fluffy towel and got me redressed though I was mayyybe a little more relaxed then I thought from the tub cuz I took my nap early, and ended up missing a visit from Ojiro. (Daddy said the only reason he'd interrupted my other nap was cuz well, Mom is my real mom.) Is it weird I felt bad he came ALL the way here to see me and couldn't because I was a sleepy little guy? I dunno. Man.. this place is getting to me ya know? basically lather rinse repeat for the next couple of days, being fed, playing with toys, watching cartoons, and filling my diapers. getting to see Midoriya and hand out and yeahh. Yesterday Ojiro tried again and this time I was awake and heh.. he was really nice about it and told me he forgave me already when i whined out a sorry for being asleep the last time. in his own words he really should of called ahead since little guys like me are prone to impromptu naps. After that we played blocks for a little while and he just kept smiling so much and squirming about till daddy asked if he needed to use the potty. Ojiro blushed uber bad which in turn made me giggle like crazy and said no, but took off shortly after. I wonder what was up with him? I tried to ask daddy but he just patted my head and told me to color a picture for Midoriya, so I guess I'll ask him when he comes over today.

Week 3 Day 7

Midoriya just laughed when i asked him my question  and still won't answer it, even after i threatened NOT to make him any more pretty pictures. Daddy and him both found my threat to be funny and cute though so I guess that's good. Denki came to see me again and was all about patting my butt again and playing peek a boo with me.. which Ok. was fun for like a little bit buttt he reallly carried it on for too long but when i said I was getting bored we swapped over to playing with stuffies till his time was up. Well ok, I played with them and told him what was going on and he just smiled and told me how creative I was and made me grin like a dork. I asked HIM about Ojiro's odd behavior before he left and he got a BIG grin on his face and said he'd be back for more details and then daddy scolded me about not sticking in other peoples affairs. I'm so confused. The next day Midoriya was here and something reallly 'brassing happened.. I had gone boom boom once again and He was going to leave..but daddy asked him if he wanted to help change me!!! I don't know who was blushing more, me or him! In any case, after Midoriya helped cleaned my butt up and daddy re-diapered me, He took off all squirmy and blushing and daddy joked about me having a effect on all the boys.. whatever THAT'S suppose to mean. Mommy is coming by later today and I hope I don't spend her whole visit sobbing again like a crybaby.. though daddy said it's ok if I do cuz it's a big part of my rehab.

Week 4 Day 1

Sooo..who's got two thumbs and ended up crying himself to a early bedtime in mommies arms yesterday? THIS guy. she came in as I was having supper and technically it was too late for her to be there but they made a exception. I was already kinda.. whinny.. when it looked like she wasn't going to show but then daddy said she could only be there for half a hour. Mommy explained that she got stuck waiting on a delivery of things she's going to need for me in the future and took over feeding me the rest of my supper while I whined and huffed that I had waited allll day on her. It wasn't till after she had given me my ba-ba in her lap and burped me I thought to ask what she had ordered. She just smiled and told me not to worry about it and to be a good little boy and kissed my forehead and I.. I totally fudged my huggies, in mommies lap. Cue meltdown and I don't even really know why..it's not like I haven't been pooping my pants for awhile now right? I don't know whether it was because I was being held, or who was holding me, or just her reaction as i did it that got to me. "Oh! Somebodies making mommy a present!" with utter delight in her voice and patting my bottom as i kept filling my pampers to the brim. I just..I just started to bawl and sob and buried my face in her shoulder and no matter how much Mommy and daddy told me it was all ok, I couldn't stop. I don't even remember going to sleep or getting a diapie change..I just woke up this morning in my crib in a soggy diaper (Yeah I've become a bed wetter, so what!) and yeahhh.. Daddy says he'll tell me who changed me, him or her when he thinks I can hear it without bawling.

Week 5 Day 5

After holding up for journal for daddy to read, he told me I need to start taking time to calm down and focus before writing, my last couple of entries were all scribbles again. he told it was very cute and brave of me to wanna share it with him though and gave me lots of awesome head pats. I guess since i didn't make sense when i originally gushed about it, i should go back over it. Just shortly after the thing with pooping my pampers in mommies lap, i just started to really like head pats and daddy took notice and has been showering me with them. just makes me all giddy and I've started to lean into them. Midoriya noticed the love of 'em took and started to give'em out! Jirou came by with Asui and it was while I was watching some Micky mouse club house and singing along. I had just went "OH TOODLES!" and heard giggles and clapping and well blushed a bit..but daddies been trying to help me embrace what a little guy I am so I forced a smile then blew a raspberry at them. told'em if they wanted to come in and visit they could, but they had to join in and help Micky out. they giggled but agreed and well for a couple of stinky girls they weren't half bad to hang out with.

They weren't as fun to hang out as Mommy when she came and visited, though I said sorry a BUNCH of times for my fit she just gave me head and butt pats and told me it was all ok. She's been twice since the stinky break down and I've managed NOT to bawl both times for the most part. I mean..i get a little teary when she has to go buttt i get it. wish she could visit more but between work and setting my room up she's been a busy bee. I asked about why she'd hafa set my room up since I always figured after this I'll be going right back to school but she just chuckled and took out the action figures she'd brought from home for me and her to play hero's and villains with. (I mean, don't get me wrong, LOVE the stuffies I have in here, and Midoriya, Denki, Kouda and Tenya have gotten me others..but action figures are sooo much easier to have do cool stuff.) Oh guess i forgot to mention a bunch of boys showed up, Kouda, Tenya, Satou, Eijirou, and ughhh.. Mineta. They showed up as a group with some presents and while 4 of them were all cool and nice.. well, one guess who was a little butt? he actually got me so worked up with his teasing I swore for the first time in ages and daddy had to wash my mouth out but he also banned him from coming back. Back to playing with mommy, it was super fun, she was the evil baddies trying to attack the peaceful stuffie village and I was the heroes saying the day and giggling as i was in just a t-shirt and my uber diapies.  there was slight almost crying moment though while playing with mommy.. I went to lean forward to grab a action figure and just with like.. NO control blorted. It was loud and stinky and I guess I had the cutest look on my face. Maybe asked if I wasn't to stop playing while i finished or keep going and well..I didn't want her to be bored just sitting there watching me go blort. (Blort is a nick name for going poopie I picked up from Ojiro when he visited again, though his butt looked all puffed out and he seemed wayyy more into hugging stuffies then me. eh, go figure) Anyways, we finished up the game and I have having so much fun I MIGHTA pretended I was still blorting even after it was all out so we didn't have to pause again. I know I know, that meant sitting in my own poopie for awhile when I didn't hafa but I'm not really worried about a diaper rash or anything, they use like the best creams and powders here, and well I maybe kinda sorta like the squishy feeling.. though when i told daddy he said that's just because I haven't been able to make a big boy mess in awhile. I'm shocked my hair didn't ignite i was blushing so bad when he said that. Before you even ask diary, I waited till it was just me and daddy ta mention that.. though he hinted mommy had known I was done. He said maybe tomorrow if I'm super duper good today I can get a milking which confused me at first since I don't have boobies.  thennn he explained it out and um yeah.. lots of blushies and gonna try and be on my bestest behavior.

Week 9, Day 3

Sowwy been 'noring you. dis too busy hasing fun wiff everyone. daddy said it's otay though and told me to make at least one last entry in ya. Ummm otay. Sooo Turns out dat Ojiro and Denki are now all dating and kissy face and and Denki was a wanna be daddy dom and the reason Ojiro got all squirmy and silly? he was all jelly of me and my kick butt nursery! Apparently he was gonna -GIGGLE- try and git locked up in here so he could be babied and Denki just spanked his butt RED and pampered him. He's a super good at going blort too, and when they visit we have blort offs. (Score 4-3 in mah favor) Let's see...what else....Oh! Midoriya went and got a part time job as a daycare worker and 'ppently it's at a speical daycare where big babies like Ojiro n me can go, once I get out. kinda silly since i'm gonna be a uber big boy n stuff when i git out butttt daddy is always telling me to be polite sooo i nodded. He's been helping out wiff my diapie changes when he's here and even put in a few volunteer hours here to help out. (Such a good guy!) Mommies been by A LOT more latly too and can't stop gushing bout the appent change in my attuide. she's been bringing in and taking home my action figures cuz her and daddy agreed those are toys for use only under special supervision and I kinda ended up admitting to her I like sitting in my poopies now, at least for like.. umm.. 10 minutes. She just laughed and said noted and that it worked out with one of the additions she put on my room.. whatever dat means. She still wont tell me what she's done or why I'll be going wiff her when I get out, but eh, asking too many questions is a good way to lose a milking and the way daddy does'em.. dun what dat. Ummm I fink dat's everything Diary..fanks fer helping me get though the first bit of life here n being a friend! Daddy asked me to leave you here wiff him when I get out, but he'll print a copy for me and mommy.

After half a year in baby Jail, It was a fair different Katsuki who stepped out then had gone in. and that wasn't just referring to his change in attire. His quirk had more or less been nullified over the course of his treatment via special drugs in his drinks and food though it would return if he weaned himself off of said drug. Katsuki for his part didn't seem to mind since it got him out of his baby mitts and let him use his fingers for fun stuff like finger painting. (though even the daddy AI had learned it was best to strip him to just a diaper when he was painting, the little guy liked to draw on himself and had a massive fit when daddy had washed a turtle he'd drawn on his tummy off before he could show Midoriya.) He didn't even seem to mind that he'd been released in his now familiar bulky diaper and one of his many baby tops, wearing a pair of Winnie pooh socks and sneakers and holding onto his mom's hand as he was checked out. The warden smiled and waved bye bye to him as he was signed out and Katsuki semi hide behind his mom but waved bye back and then they were heading home.

"so Um..Mommmmmy?" Katsuki asked, sitting in the back seat of mommy's car, buckled into a customized car seat just for his puffy diaper butt. "whatttty?" She asked, looking back at him via the rear view mirror and smirking. "Can you tell's me now why we're going back home and not ta school? Like..is it so I can get's my big boy clothes on?" he asked, kicking his legs ideally. "welll you've missed most of the school year as is, there's no way you'll be able to catch up. so it's been agreed that you'll just take the rest of the year off and stay with me. and Besides, you need to re-potty train buddy." his mom pointed out. "...no i don't. I can hold it." Katsuki huffed, blushing and hugging one of the stuffies he'd been able to take with him and holding it to his chest. "Katsuki..what don't good little boys do?" She asked him. "...Lie." he huffed and looked down. "and what was that you just did?" "..Lied Mommy..I sowwy.." Katsuki said and he just looked SO sad and had tears welling up. "It's ok sweetie. Mommy isn't mad. but you need to tell the truth so you can have lots and lots of head pats ok?" she said quickly. "O-Ok..I..I guess..Maybe i kinda don't have pee control anymore..but I mostly know when i hasa blort." Katsuki said. "Mhhhmmm..well we'll be keeping you in your diapies for awhile and working you back up to be kid undies for the fall unless you decide you like being mommies little guy." "pffft, wike I'll PICK ta stay like this.." he huffed and squirmed. "Well if you do..a lot of what mommies been doing while you've been in there is baby proofing the apartment and turning your room into a nursery like the one you've been in, just no daddy though." "I..wait..wut?" Katsuki asked, and squirmed. "Yup, a changing table, a crib..I got you a high chair and got a baby bouncer for you because daddy told me it's your favorite way to make big boy messes after you've blorted." She giggled. Katsuki was squirming BIG time now in the back seat, and ended up popping his paci into his mouth and sucking on it big time and hugging his stuffie to his face. "oh it's ok sweetie. Mommy knows a growing boy like you has your needs. Just make sure to get mommies help if you wanna go bouncy bouncy ok?" She asked. The poor red faced boy couldn't speak, just suckled and nodded lots. the old Katsuki would of had a bitching fit and blown his way out of the car and stormed off..but Baby Katsuki just realized maybe just because he was out of baby jail..didn't mean he wasn't still a baby. 'I'm not a jail bird anymore..this is gonna be a longggggg summer..' He thought and then sucking on his paci and the noise of the car and vibration of it, drifted off to sleep like the big baby he was.

The end

[artcallednaturalviews]

Any yesterday Rump T representing

The lower bottom right in corners

You don’t get

To wear bumblebee colors

Even close up tie was hived

In the meantime, after crossing some tracks, while looking who’s gonna hold me up next, for my purpose in the store not in store, a man talking to a an automobile, at lighted intersection the turns right and a light changes for me, the man alone walks in the store

Park go in, hey man at counter, that other guy is filling a coffee well maybe, purchase my goods and the man over in corner beats me to the door

Oh awe can I ask for a ride?

In like tales from a crypt hitchhiker it still fits

I had you clocked from railroad tracks!

1. Last car automotive automobile said

No

2. I’m not carrying a gun for personal protection purposes

You speak up after my “NO”

‘Aren’t we all Humans!’

Here’s Number 3 Chump

It would have taking 30 mins to walk all humanly itself to home near the Tobitan Conveinent so near York & Gibson

I drove off like your last encounter

3. We walk inside, your face my face written upon asked by clerk paper and marker

Then you would have let me take pictures of your ID so I could send an email to friend

A pat down for any known contraband I deem unworthy

I you would have paid for tape purchased from said first location to have wrists bound then bond after seat beating & seat belt, it’s for safety, tied to your right thigh and bound several times

In my mind a purchase of electricity tape or duct

Or I could bind you to front with a tether strap

To keep the money you said you would paid for ride

Stranger you wearing black and yellow like Trump

What’s political affiliations

What’s you criminal background

“All for so, be Human give me a ride!”

All this while

You are stealing power

Your phone is being charged for free by provided outlet in front of this Convenient Store that was not designed for your use!

My Trust should be With You?

Can I get a ride………

You could be a rump t supporter & or something worse human stealing Power

Now you can’t say I was a Dickeye & Cunty

For my personal protection

Your comments probably after I drove away

Did you walk

Or was that car a group of hoodlums bandits

Trump supported bedlam

For you to or/and all to steal my Jeep

Stranger

Your turn for something better

But would have you rode in my auto after being securely fastened for my safety while I didn’t have a gun with me

I only expected to pick up some beer not some

Human!

I just don’t think you would’ve……… agreed to my protocols to my personal safety without a Gun

To drive you anywhere

Dear Stranger wanting a Ride

Point your view wherever and your hands!

As I drive off parking lot

(This is my space to add more/ I’ve consumed and need well a time away for myself, I’m huhuman and well presently not stupid to give a Stranger a ride)

And your drink ! (Purchased)

Not allowed in ride

I don’t care if it was only agua!

Still could have been hot!

I don’t trust Nations leaders, and that dude wanted a ride home!