#unfortunately the well has run completely dry

[vetteldixon]

full special multi-21 presser transcript

Q. Before Malaysia you were viewed as the good guy, but since then you have become the bad guy. How do you feel about the situation? SV: I don't consider myself being the bad guy. I don't think I did something that was in particular bad. I think I said everything I had to say after the race, and I apologised to the team - which was important to me to get things straight. I took the opportunity to go see the team after the race straight away and explain what happened from my point of view, like I did to you after the race, and that is it.

Q. Helmut Marko has been quoted as saying there will be no more team orders at Red Bull. How much more difficult does that make your job of winning the championship? SV: I don't know. I haven't seen Helmut yet. But it makes no difference.

Q. How do you define your relationship with Mark Webber now, and do you think you can count on his support? SV: I think being completely honest, I never had support from his side. I have a lot of support from the team, and the team has supported both of us the same way. But in terms of relationship to Mark, I respect him a lot as a racing driver, but I think there was more than one occasion in the past where he could have helped the team and he didn't.

Q. Is that why you did it then? SV: I explained to you why I did it. But whether you believe me or not is on a different page.

Q. But you said that Mark never helped you. Were you paying him back? SV: You could say indirectly so, but as I tried to explain to you after the race, in my opinion it is always best to be truthful. But sometimes the truth is not what the people want to hear. As you can see controversy is more popular than the truth. I told you after the race what happened. I was racing, and as a racing driver I was solely focused on winning the race and I got a call on the radio, which I heard, but I didn't understand at the time. I should have understood. That is why I apologised to the team, because in my action I put myself above the team. Whether you believe me or not is up to you.

Q. Didn't you know exactly what you were doing though? SV: I apologised to the team because it was the last thing I want as a team member, which is what I am and how I feel. I am one of the guys, you might say I am more or less important but I feel more or less on the same level and as a team member I didn't obey the team's order, which as I said was not my intention. My intention if you look at it as a racing driver is to win the race, so I don't apologise for winning the race.

Q. Going back to earlier in the race, was the decision to change to slicks at the first stop your call, or was it made by the team? SV: It was my call. I came on the radio at the beginning of the lap saying that it looks pretty dry. At the end of the lap I felt it was the point of crossover and I thought I would come in and take the risk, because I thought it was dry enough. Unfortunately as it turned out it was not the perfect call and it was probably one lap too early. Plus I had the gap, so I was not in need of being the first one in. But I felt it was the right time and that is why I went for it. As it turned out it was still a bit damp, plus I came out in traffic, turn 1/2/3 was still a bit damp so people passed me straightaway on inters, and then I was behind them when I came onto the dry section and couldn't make use of that. So the bottom line is that I lost too much.

Q. Was what happened later on your way of making up for it then? SV: Well what happened was that I was racing and I wanted to win. In that regard, I succeeded.

Q. You apologised to Mark after the race, but you are not doing so now. Have you changed your mind? SV: These kinds of things I sort out with him straight away, face to face. I think everything that happened in the past, there was sometimes more talk about what happened, sometimes less. It is not my style to run to the media and explain myself. If I have something to say then I prefer to say it internally.

Q. During the race you were backed into the Mercedes by Mark. Did that annoy you? SV: Not annoyed, I came on the radio and said that I was faster. I think it was a bit misunderstood because probably what I said came across a little bit arrogant but what I actually meant was that I had pressure from behind. Mark speeded up as soon as I got closer and to be fair he was even a little bit faster towards the end of the stint. At the beginning I ran a little bit into the back of him, which I am not blaming him for, and Lewis was very close, Mercedes had strong race pace and fortunately from our point of view they ran out of fuel and they could not keep pushing until the end.

Q. Have you been punished by the team? SV: There are a lot of marks on my back! No. As I said, I like to deal with these things face to face. I have always been open and I think I have always been truthful so if I have something to admit or talk about something I did wrong, then I have no problem admitting it. It is probably not the easiest to say the truth but that is what I did straight away after the race, and straight away to the team as well. My intention was not to put my interest above the team's interest because as I see my position, I am a team member, I am one of them - and the team is putting a lot of effort to give me a good chance to win races and have a strong car, and ultimately trusts me. I want to give that trust back as much as I can.

Q. Do you think Christian Horner's position has been weakened by your actions? SV: Well you could say so... but as I said, I went to talk to everyone straight after and explain what happened. The intention was not to undermine the decision by the team principal.

Q. How do you go about resolving the situation with Mark? Can you trust each other? SV: I wouldn't call it trust, to be honest. I think we have a professional relationship. As I said in the past, obviously, there was more than one occasion where things didn't work the way they should have, and as I said - I respect him a lot as a driver. I think he has achieved great things in his career in F1, and also before F1, and I respect that.

Q. Do you want a different team-mate next year? SV: It is not for me to decide.

Q. No it's not your decision, but you can have an opinion. Do you want a new team-mate? SV: I see where this is going...but I don't like talking bad about other people. It is not my style to complain or talk to everyone about everything. If there is something that I feel I have to say, I do address it to the people that are important for the decision.

Q. Had you understood the team order properly, would you have obeyed it - as you had saved the best tyres for that final stint? SV: I think as you mentioned, I was faster in the end. That is why I was able to overtake. Overtaking is not easy, let's not forget that, in F1. If I had understood the message and would have thought about it, I am not sure I can give you a perfect answer on this because thinking about it, obviously I probably had realised in the moment that there is quite a conflict, because on the one hand I am the kind of guy who respects team decisions and the other hand, probably Mark is not the one who deserved it at the time.

Q. So you would do it again under the same circumstances? SV: I am not sure I can give you a proper answer because in the moment it might be different, but I would probably do the same.

Q. How do you deal with racing Mark now? SV: It is not the end of the world here. At the end of the day I cross the paddock entrance every morning because I do something I love, I love racing and I love coming here, I love working with the team and the guys, I enjoy that a lot. It gives me so much satisfaction and I cannot think of anything else that gives me that much pleasure. I think the bottom line is I don't want to forget that. Sometimes we have easier or more difficult times but at the end of the day I am here for that, and that is what I enjoy most.

Q. Christian Horner said that there was no point in ordering you to give up the lead in Malaysia as you would have ignored it. Is that a sign that this is your team now, and that Christian is no longer in control? SV: I don't think that is right. I think the circumstances for that have a different nature. He is the boss, he is in control of all the employees and he is leading the team so I think I am not in any other position than I am. I am the driver.

Q. But you broke an order and you got no sanction? SV: I did speak up and I did apologise and I meant it. Sanction as in punishment? Maybe it is a little bit of a dreamland that you all live in, but what do you expect to happen. Make a suggestion! We dealt with it internally. As I said I did apologise to the team, I took it very seriously, I went to see the whole team as soon as I could, not just the people working here, and told them as well.

Q. So if Christian had asked you to give the position back, would you have done it? SV: I didn't mean to ignore the team's order because I didn't understand it. I heard it but I didn't understand it in the proper way, the way I should have. I apologise for that because with my action I disobeyed the team order and put myself above the team. Had I understood the message and had I thought about it, reflected on it, think what the team wanted to do, to leave Mark in first place and me finishing second, I think I would have thought about it and I would probably have done the same thing. He didn't deserve it. To me it is best to be myself. I have always been truthful and I said the truth after the race.

Q. You said that you don't like to talk about other people - but you complained about Mark earlier in the race on the radio... SV: Your translation is complain, my translation is that I can see why, because if you take it word by word, I can see how it means and how it comes across. The fact is I was faster at the time and I was under pressure from behind. As soon as I closed the gap to Mark he speeded up - I had no problem with Nico at the time, and I was able to pull a little bit away from Lewis. In the end it wasn't enough but I am not blaming him for that.

Q. Will the war in the team affect your title hopes? SV: I don't think we have a war, to be honest.

Q. So what part of Multi 21 did you not understand? SV: It is a code....believe it or not is up to you. I can only say what really happened, whether you buy it or not. I was looking on the steering wheel and got a little bit not confused but couldn't find the map change as we do map changes all the time in the races, you don't get that usually. I am not sure if you got the code as well. We have this code for quite a while in the team and I should have understood, full stop. But I didn't.

Q. Why do you believe that Mark did not deserve to win? SV: I don't like to talk about other people. It is not my style. I have said enough. The bottom line is I was racing, I was faster, I passed him, I won.

Q. Is it not the case that you passed him because you knew that Alonso was out of the race? SV: Honestly I didn't care where Fernando was.

Q. But he is likely to be your main competitor. Maybe you don't consider Mark as your ultimate competitor and you couldn't go away from that race leaving seven points on the table? SV: Well, to be honest with you I didn't think maximum points, maximum points. I thought winning the race, winning the race. It is race two of the championship. I know there are so many races. We have won the championship three times in a row. I know how many things will happen. Sometimes you will like it, sometimes you will not like it. But over the course of the season...things like what happened to Fernando when he damaged his front wing slightly, and that meant end of the race, zero points. These things will happen to everyone over the course of the season. Like it or not. Can you get away without it happening? No. There is probably a reason but you are also a little bit lucky. But these things, they hit on everyone and in that moment, race two of the championship, I don't think about numbers. I don't think about points. I think about winning the race. Ultimately you can say it is stupid, but from my point of view if I think about the championship and the points situation too much then I am not in the moment. I am not racing. I will give away a gap, or I don't go for the gap, because maybe I think it is too risky, I shouldn't do that because I might lose points - and it is better to have 12 points in the bag for fourth than three more points for third. You don't have time in the car where, if you are really going for that gap that all of a sudden is there, to reflect on whether it is right or not? Is there the right amount of risk or not? If you see a gap and you are free in your mind, you go for it. If you have any doubt you go for it and you crash. I can give you an example. Last year I started dead last in the pit lane in Abu Dhabi. I damaged my front wing and I was dead last again. I was fourth at the end of the race, with Jenson to pass. He was very difficult to pass because he was as quick as I was. You could say, I came from last, Fernando was only two places ahead, what is the point for three points? I am in the lead of the championship, so relax. Take the points and don't risk the very risky manoeuvre I had with Jenson. I saw the gap and I wanted to finish on the podium. I went for it. I knew the championship is important and I wanted to win it; but I saw the gap and went for it. I didn't think twice. And I got third place, and won the championship by three points. So...that is my view.

Q. There is a lot of tension between you and Mark. How are you dealing with it? SV: We say hi just like we do every other time.

Q. Is this ultimately a big fuss about nothing? You gave the fans what they wanted to see, you were given a team order and you said screw it, I am here to win, I am here to race... SV: I had a very normal two weeks, very quiet. I had time to prepare for this race which I am happy for. I tried to prepare and I am here in the best shape I can be and I am looking forward to driving the car. Maybe that sounds too simple for you, but that is how I feel.

[fullmetalscullyy]

.

[spicysourchimken]

Murder! Murder! Murder!

TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of death, murder, descriptions of corpses, gore and corpse desecration

(This Idea is loosely inspired by @/the-witchhunter's 'Ghost in the Morgue', please go check it out if you like this concept and have not yet read it)

[Other stuff in this AU: World Building]

Corpses au Danny, not just Corpse but Corpses. Every time Danny transforms he drops a new body, Danny honestly has lived with it long enough that it's funny at this point (and also. maybe made him a little weird about his own death and or deaths). This is not the same for Tim, who now has to deal with a potential serial killer.

Tim is looking into a string of strange and suspicious deaths that might point to the appearance of a new rogue, this results in him taking a visit to the morgue as Red Robin, only to meet a potential victim, Daniel Fenton the latest medical examiner for GCPD.

----

Tim was the one who had found the first body a week ago. He'd been on patrol when he'd spotted it propped up against a dumpster in an alley. It couldn't have been there longer than an hour, the blood was far too fresh.

Tim had planned to just check out the scene and call it in, but then he actually saw the body. It'd been eviscerated, torso ripped open organs spilling out and its hands had been frozen to the ground- hell the entire body seemed to be coated in a layer of frost.

Tim kept tabs on the investigation, if anything for simple curiosity. Then they'd found the second body. Body frozen to the ground, same victim profile- but the death had been completely different. Slashed throat, face mutilated.

Then there was another, and this time Tim wanted to see it in person. This was either a serial killer or the start of a new rogue, and for Tim to be able to tell he needed to see. He sent word to Gordon, if anything more of a warning. He was greeted by the medical examiner.

Greeted was a strong word.

The medical examiner was... strange. Tim had heard news of him starting work and as far as Tim was aware of he was clean, and an almost boring person. The medical examiner that Tim met was unnerving. Pale, staring almost through him and carried blase attitude to his work.

What was worse is that he reminded so much of a corpse, not just a corpse but the corpse.

Then it struck him.

Fenton could be a target. Fenton could be the focus of the killer's obsession.

He'd have to keep tabs on Fenton, too bad he might be the most reckless Gotham citizen in existence.

----

Gotham, admittedly hadn't been Danny's first pick after he finished medical school. Danny had always intended to become a medical examiner, dealing with your own corpses for years would do that do you. 'Finished' was the real problem, Danny had been doing well, great even but then he'd died. Twice. Real unfortunate really, hit and run and then poison, left him with a dry throat for weeks.

His own classmate apparently tried to kill him, which means it would be more than hard to actually finish medical school. That's fine, he had access to Tucker, an actual godsend who was able to make it look like he had all the proper qualifications... as long as you didn't look too hard.

Gotham was apparently pressed for a good medical examiner. All he needed to be was experienced.

Thankfully he had that in spades.

Things frankly only started going down hill last week. He'd made a habit of taking on requests between work, occultist avoided Gotham like the plague leaving him the only voice for the dead. Usually it was pretty easy gig, collect some momentos, help a few ghosts recognize they're dead. Until he'd had to deal with a Wraith.

It didn't go well. Danny was dead set on handling it as a human, appearing as Phantom could cause all matter of chaos. Danny had also not been informed that the claws of a wraith could pierce through human flesh so there's that. Danny was once again evicted from the mortal coil, dropping his own corpse and having to finish the fight off

Danny had planned to deal with his body after gaining his human form back and making sure that the thing could no longer return to the earthly plane. Turns out a bat got there first, turned the place into a crime scene. Just his luck he was beaten bloody enough to be unrecognizable.

His luck continued to go down hill when he was killed, not once, not twice but three times (this of course, wasn't accounting for the times he'd needed to go ghost). He'd gotten good at taking care of his bodies in Gotham at that point, or so he thought, until he was told he had not only a new body on his table and Red Robin waiting to be escorted to his morgue.

Now Danny has to juggle the growing chaos that it they spirits of Gotham while trying to make sure none of his bodies are identified, even if that means making a mess of Red Robin's investigations.

[krirebr]

random hoeing:

Steve catching you in the rain, his white shirt completely soaked and transparent

Ok, this has to be Neighbor Steve.

Warnings: explicit language, more fluff than I normally do, completely unedited, 18+ - MINORS DNI

After Steve caught you ogling him during the heatwave, the tone of your conversations when you run into him in your building has gotten decidedly flirtier. But for whatever reason, that's where it's stopped. As much as you've tried to send signals that you are very open to more, he's never taken you up on it. Which is fine. It's fine. Totally fine. You are very cool with it. The thought of it definitely doesn't make you shrivel up inside. You are so cool.

All of that is the furthest thing from your mind right now, though, as you and your dog run through the rain. It'd been such a nice day, but as you hit the halfway point of your usual longer route, the sky unexpectedly opened up and you and your poor dog were hit by an absolute downpour. Now, finally home, you're both completely soaked and desperate to get inside and dry.

After some fumbling, you get the door to your building unlocked and opened. Just as you're about to get inside and let the door close behind you, you hear your name ring out. You turn around to see Steve hurrying up the path. "Hold the door!" he yells.

You freeze, doing as he asked. Holy shit. He's just as soaked as you, but while you're sure you look like a drowned rat, he very much does not. He– Well. He– He's wearing that damned white t-shirt again. Except it's not white now, it's translucent. You can see everything – that tattoo you spotted before, and a few more to go with it, an incredible set of abs, nipples. Holy shit.

He quickly ushers you inside, thank god, because you can't move on your own, your eyes still stuck to his chest. "Fuck, that came out of nowhere, huh?" he chuckles.

The moment you're out of the rain, your dog proceeds to do her best to shake herself dry, as if the three of you weren't already dripping all over the entryway. "Oh, shit," you mumble, reaching for her without really knowing what to do.

Steve just laughs. And then does it himself, shaking out his golden locks. Part of his hair flops down over his forehead, and you do your best to hold in your gasp. Really it's just so unfair that he could get caught in a rainstorm and come out looking like that. What the actual fuck? you think to yourself.

Except, judging by the way his head whips around to look at you, maybe you didn't think it. Maybe it was more out loud than you'd meant. Oh god. You immediately start babbling, which is unfortunately just as uncontrollable as the initial slip-up you're trying to make up for. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I just– I mean– Look at you!" You throw a wild gesture at him as he just stares at you with his mouth open, trying to take in your ramble. "It's cats and dogs out there and you look like that?? While I–" another wild gesture, at yourself this time. "I just– How is it fair that you're so beautiful??"

"You think I'm beautiful?" he finally manages to interject.

"Huh?" And that's when your brain finally catches up. Oh dear god. What is wrong with you?? You cautiously glance at him to find him staring at you, not upset, but like he's trying to figure you out. Fuck it, you suddenly think. You've already embarrassed yourself. You have nothing left to lose. "You wanna get dinner with me sometime?"

You swear that the smile that blooms on Steve's face is bright and warm enough to dry you both off. "I was starting to worry I was reading your signals wrong. Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Your answering smile is strong enough to push all the clouds away.

☔

Thanks for the fun prompt, Eva!

Tag List

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[thisthatpinkvenom]

IT'S SWEATPANTS SEASON, OH MY!

JOCK!SAN / BAND GEEK!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Autumn has arrived; the season of pumpkin spice lattes, corn and—unfortunately for you—grey sweatpants. those pesky little things have attached themselves to your boyfriend's legs like glue, and you're having a hard time keeping your mind out of the gutter.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluff, humor(??), smut, smut, smut

⤏ Content: jock!San, band geek!fem reader (I know, I'm so original), you're referred to as "sweet potato" once—don't ask, just go with it, established relationship!au, college!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): dry humping, unprotected piv (it's fiction, guysss. use your rubbers and stay safe!), creampie, just lots of build up because I'm down bad for a man in grey sweatpants 🙈

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

The mosaic of orange and yellow was striking below the dull blue clouds as the trees continued to shed their leaves. Your eyes swayed with the leaf you'd been watching descend its way patiently to the ground while you sat on the bench, shoulders jittering in the midst of the decreasing temperature. Your hands peeked out from the ends of your sleeves before rubbing together, the crisp morning air making your fingers tingle in the cold. You should've worn a thicker jacket, is what you mulled over in your head that you hadn't even noticed San until he enveloped his own padded jacket over you. The gust of warmth awoke you from your reverie and you hummed, meeting eyes with him when he lowered himself into a squat.

"You didn't have to come here," he said, a dimple indenting his cheek as he curled one corner of his mouth upward. After pulling the hood over your head, he tenderly brushed his thumb across your cheek. "I know you're not a morning person."

You struggled to fight a yawn until you decidedly gave in, white fog manifesting in your breath.

"I want to support you," you murmured. You were too busy blinking away your fatigue to notice how he looked on in nothing but fondness. Your conscience warped your thoughts when you scanned over the jacket engulfing your frame, your lips forming into a small pout. "Mm…aren't you going to be cold?"

San took a glance at his attire; he's only got a windbreaker left to keep him warm. Nonetheless, he shook his head and insisted he was used to practicing like this on the field. Despite wearing less than you and the flushed red on his nose and cheeks, you couldn't really tell if he felt the effect of the weather as much as you did. You couldn't fathom how he had the motivation to get up at the ass crack of dawn to run around with a ball, doing drills with his teammates while Coach Kim rapid-fired pointer after pointer without a stop to catch his breath. It truly was admirable how smiley he was at 7:00 a.m. without consuming any caffeine.

Coach Kim sauntered along the grass before he blew his whistle and commanded the team to group together. Your boyfriend looked over his shoulder before turning back to you, eyes squinting as the sun's orange glow began to blanket over the field.

"Well, gotta start soon," he observed. "Stay warm and if you're sleepy, just go back. I'm happy you're here but don't force yourself to stay. All right, Sweet Potato?"

You made a small noise of confirmation, unfazed by the odd affectionate nickname you had gotten used to over time. The heat of his palms skimmed over your ears as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing tall. But what you didn't anticipate—whoa—had really slapped you awake right then and there. For the mere five seconds you'd managed to capture a mental image, time felt as if it'd been stretched to hell when your boyfriend's crotch had leveled with your eyes. You hadn't realized the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and now that you've gotten a face full of…that, you're acutely aware.

You're shook to the core.

Your gaze trailed after his jogging figure, following the path up his long and toned legs to his cute little bu—okay, whoa! It's only 7:15 in the morning. You had no business indulging in these thoughts right now. Get it together.

Oh, he's facing your general direction now.

Are you staring at it too much? It's starting to feel a little warm, all of a sudden; it's the jacket, isn't it? Just how long is this going to take?

You're trapped on this bench. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since practice started and Coach Kim was rambling on about the importance of warming up while you're glued to your seat, pathetically staring at your boyfriend's dickprint while he seemingly had no idea. God, you felt like a perv. Even though he assured you that it was okay, you didn't want to just up and leave. This was a relationship built on give and take, and there were one too many times when he watched your concerts while knowing little to nothing about orchestral music.

You'll just suffer, then.

"Just fuck him."

"Lisa!" you chided, pushing three fingers against your friend's arm as she rolled her eyes.

"What?" She swirled her tongue around the glob of chocolate ice cream sitting on top of her waffle cone. "He's a hot, charming guy. Your own boyfriend makes you horny and that's supposed to be a problem now?"

"Oh, my gosh, I just…" you trailed off, eyes searching elsewhere for your thoughts. "I'm not used to being all"—you waved your hands disorientedly in front of you—"dirty…minded. He's the one who usually initiates it."

"Sex?"

"Everything physical, really," you clarified. "I just feel like if I start it, it's just going to be off—and awkward."

You sighed. "How am I going to get through this season?"

"Oh, yeah, the sweatpants; that's what's been making you a sex freak," Lisa recalled with an airy laugh. "Those things are like lingerie for guys. Especially the grey ones…oomf. 'Dicktoria's Secret' is real," she snorted.

You gave her a blank stare.

"Look, just be honest," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world—which it was. "You really think any guy is gonna find it offensive that his girl's drooling over his bulge?"

"I wasn't drooling—"

"You will be."

"Oh, my gosh."

You weren't aware that having a footballer-boyfriend automatically signed you up for three months' worth of almost nothing but sweatpants. You also didn't know how many he had stashed in his wardrobe until now—it's good to know he didn't wear the same pair everyday. But this meant he had enough pairs to flaunt his dick outline in your face whenever you were together.

Not good for your cavewoman brain.

Fingers danced along your neck and you squirmed at the intrusion, meeting eyes with San's own with your face sporting a frown. The same fingers belonged to the arm lazing comfortably around your shoulders, both of you having snuggled together into mush on his couch while you binge-watched one of your favorite shows. You whined his name in annoyance when you're kicked out of your thoughts.

He chortled. "Sorry, I just—it's Buffy and you don't even seem that into it. Is everything okay?"

Let's see: it's a Friday night. His roommate, Mingi went to visit his parents for the weekend and you're all alone with your hot, charming boyfriend™ who's clearly gone commando under his sweats. And you're supposed to be watching Buffy slay vampires…how?

"Y-Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" you stammered.

He hummed in feigned ponder, and the knowing smirk surging its way onto his lips would've sent a churn in your belly if you'd actually caught sight of it.

"You know that my eyes are up here, right?"

Your eyes snapped up in panic, and silence was the only response you had sitting on your tongue. You wanted to hide in a cave, where you could wallow in embarrassment without disturbance. Your own boyfriend had just caught you ogling his crotch like a perv.

San tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a smile at how you resembled a deer in headlights. "You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Your mouth was stuck in a battle between opening and closing as you desperately searched for the right words. With a defeated sigh, your face fell into the safety of your palms.

"This is so embarrassing," you groaned, words muffled against your hands.

"Hey," he laughed softly, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to retract your hands away from your face. "It's not a big deal"—you sighed when the light from the standing lamp washed into your eyes—"it's cute."

You gave him a funny look. "Cute," you stated, doubt laced in your tone.

"Yeah. Usually, I'm the one doing all the staring."

He scanned you up and down with a pondering pout on his lips, continuing on to ask, "It's the sweatpants, isn't it?"

"Do you have to state the obvious?" you whined.

"What? I just wanna make things clear, so I know what to wear for you," he teased. He shifted closer and smoothed a hand up your thigh. "I'll wear more for you."

If he felt the goosebumps on your skin, he didn't comment on them.

"You say it like it's lingerie," you quipped, recalling what Lisa said a few days ago. You're saying anything to distract yourself right now, but you crumbled easily whenever he touched you. And he knew it well, especially when his hand moved dangerously close to your pyjama shorts. You're not even sure if you were breathing.

"If it's gotten you like this, then I'd say it pretty much is."

He moved on to say, "I like it when you look at me like that."

Your expression was frozen. "Like what?"

San's eyes changed ever so slightly, his hand finally slipping between your squeezed thighs.

"Like you really want me."

Your thighs parted for him. "I…I do," you murmured.

"Oh, really? Where do you want me?"

"Where else?"

"I asked you first."

You made a quiet huff from your nose, looking down at his hand that's aching to pull your shorts down. "Inside"—you hesitated—"inside me. I-I would like it if we had sex…please?"

His lustful gaze turned softer, eyebrows raised high at your interesting way of words. While you, on the other hand, visibly grimaced. San found your eyes shutting tight and your nose scrunching up all too adorable, and without a doubt, he would've bitten your cheeks if he could.

With a chuffed smile, he hooked his fingers at the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, waiting for you to lift your hips. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's have the sex now."

You sulked at his incessant teasing, knowing well enough that he was purposefully expressing his words awkwardly. He laughed and assured you he would stop there, before grabbing your now half-naked body by the hips and having you straddle him. His fleece sweatpants were rough from the continuous use, giving you some nice sense of friction on your sensitive nub.

But above all that, you could feel the presence of his cock hiding beneath his pants, your pussy lips spreading the slightest on his erection. Your breath hitched as his hands made their way under your sweater, then your shirt; reposed comfortably at your hips as if they made home there. The pads of his fingers kneaded your skin as he looked up at you with expectant eyes.

"C'mon, get yourself off for me."

You waited with bated breath for nothing in particular—you'd just been momentarily distracted by his intense stare. Nodding too many times in the span of a second, you began to move your hips under the guide of his hands.

"Oh…"

There was a minor ache in your hips when he dug his fingers deeper in your skin, but you were too focused on the soft chafing of the fabric against your clit. It was getting you in the right place; so rough.

"Are you doing okay, Baby?"

You released an unstable sigh. "Y-Yeah."

He eyed the way your skin slightly folded with every move you made on his clothed cock, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Your motions grew faster and more impatient as you yearned for his mouth against yours, falling forward before your lips touched his.

He pushed you down each time he pulled you forward, earning growingly unsteady breaths from you into his mouth. You nearly choked when he bucked his hips upward, soft moans having no chance to escape when each were engulfed by his lips. You continued to do nothing but mindlessly grind your clit on him, humping his clothed cock like you were in desperate heat.

You didn't have the mind to warn him at this moment, unable to hear anything but your own moans until you were reaching your impending climax. And soon with trembling thighs, you came. Your skin grew rampant with shivers while your mind went elsewhere for the bite of a second.

San finally spared some mercy, separating from you with a thin string of spit connecting your lips before he's splitting it with a lick from his tongue. Stealing a glance at the dark spot you left on his pants, he served you a lustful, lopsided smile.

"This is what you'll get if you're just a little more honest with me," he chuckled.

Your ears grew hot at the sight of your arousal leaving its mark, adjusting yourself with your hands on the backrest behind him. You waited a few beats to gather your words before you muttered, "Well…can I be honest with you right now?"

"Of course."

San waited with patient eyes, his stare nearly melting you into goo while he thumbed your skin again.

"I'd like to have the sex—with your penis inside me…please."

He didn't try at all to suppress amusement at how you'd poked fun at yourself, hearty laughter producing from the pit of his belly. The dimples in his cheeks emerged from hiding as he grinned and nodded while pushing his waistband down, just enough for his cock to free itself. When his laughter had settled, he pressed a peck on the tip of your nose.

"Whenever you're ready."

You grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the tip against your entrance, pausing for a moment until you began to slowly but surely, sink entirely down his length. The stretch always started as an odd pressure between your walls, but once they'd completely swallowed his dick whole, it always left you wanting more. It's a feeling you don't think you could ever give justice to, if you were ever asked to describe it. He was just so right for you.

Your body gave into him as he pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like a tightened belt. His hushed groans were made only for you, and hearing them continuously by your ear sent shivers down your spine.

"So warm," he muttered under his breath. He slid his bum further down the couch with you in his grasp and spread his legs wider. And when he was sure of the angle, he rolled his hips to meet yours, finding a steady pace with the most agonizingly unyielding thrusts. With every slam of his hips, your moans rendered into off-key whimpers as you melted under his guidance.

It felt like you were experiencing the hottest temperatures of the summer; your cheeks were burning and at moments, you felt like pushing away just from the sheer heat of your bodies entangled together.

A cuss left your boyfriend's lips when you gnawed on his shoulder, the salty tang of sweat grazing your tongue. And as if he wasn't holding onto you tightly already, he pulled you even closer as his cock rammed relentlessly, his rhythm growing sloppy when he began reaching his peak.

Your back felt like it'd been bent beyond repair as his cum coated your walls, the familiar twitching of his cock presented inside you. But he didn't stop there, he wouldn't until you came as well. And with his jaw clenched, he fucked into you like you were his toy, white rings of his own orgasm spilling with every move and making way to stain his pants.

"C'mon, Baby," he grunted. "Cum, f-fuck—cum, fucking c-cum…"

And in a few more thrusts, all you saw were specks of white among darkness. Your pussy spared no consideration on his sensitive cock and clenched as you trembled, the string of swears leaving his lips going deaf on your ears. Your limbs fell limp to pure exhaustion, despite how much you wanted to just wrap them around him like you were a koala and he was the tree. You wanted to mark your kisses all over his face but not even your lips were functioning right now as you barely managed to muster out a "thank you".

It was clear that it took a moment for San to register what you'd said, before he let out a breathy laugh. Not because he found something funny, it was just one of those laughs you got when you felt so euphoric—like getting your balls drained until you were a moaning mess; that kind of euphoric.

He kissed the top of your head, looking ahead at the TV where Buffy was still slaying vampires as usual. His dick stayed inside you, soft and relaxed in your warmth, neither of you in any rush to clean up.

"Mm…remind me to buy more of these sweats."

[alphynix]

Spectember/Spectober 2024 #07: Mole Dino

Today's spec creature is a combination of a couple of submissions – James P. Quick asked for "a post-K/Pg relict dinosaur from pre-glaciation Antarctica", and an anonymous asked for "a subterranean (like, say, Talpa or Spalax) burrowing dinosaur":

At the time of the K/Pg mass extinction some of the small ornithopods that inhabited Late Cretaceous Antarctica had been developing increasingly complex burrowing behavior and a more generalist omnivorous diet than most other ornithischians – and, along with their ability to endure the long dark cold polar winters, this was juuust about enough for them to survive while the rest of their non-avian cohorts vanished.

They were very briefly a fairly successful disaster taxon in the devastated polar forests, but they were quickly displaced by other diversifying survivors and never really got another ecological foothold to regain anything close to the non-avian dinosaurs' former glory.

Instead the little ornithopods specialized even further for burrowing, spending more and more of their lives underground to avoid the increasing competition and predation from mammals and birds.

Now, well into the Cenozoic at the dawning of the Miocene, Cthonireliqua quicki is the very last representative of the non-avian dinosaurs. Small and stocky and mole-like, just 15cm long (~8"), it has muscular forelimbs with large shovel-like claws, a keratinous shield on its head, and a thick bristly tail where large fat reserves are stored.

Its eyes are almost completely absent, only vestigial remnants present under the skin of its face, and it navigates its extensive burrows using sensitive whisker-like filaments and its keen senses of hearing and smell. Still omnivorous like its ancestors, it feeds on whatever it comes across while tunneling – mainly worms, insects, smaller vertebrates, roots, and tubers.

Unfortunately for Cthonireliqua, and the rest of its Antarctic ecosystem, time is running out. Over the last few million years Antarctica's climate has been steadily cooling and drying, the continent has become fully isolated, and the Antarctic Circumpolar Current has formed. Glaciation is well underway in the continental interior, and the once-lush forests are shrinking away and being replaced with tundra.

Soon all evidence of these dinosaurs' existence will be buried under the ice.

[honeygrahambitch]

"I want to introduce you to Will Graham."

It was the sixth time Will was hearing that phrase from Jack. To say that he was regretting attending the FBI congress was an understatement.

His social battery was below zero and his facial muscles were hurting from forcing smiles to all the strangers who were all bombing him with dry compliments and uncomfortable questions.

How did you catch Hobbs?

Is it true that the Ripper has a soft spot for you?

Is it easy to do your job?

He managed to excuse himself to the bathroom and to leave the hotel lobby where everyone was drinking and having small chats. He was not sure where he was heading but at that point everything else sounded better.

He went down a corridor. Turned left. Turned right. Left again. His phone buzzed. Jack was texting him to ask if he was sick. The thought of being completely honest about his thoughts regarding the event was very tasty.

"No, I was just thinking of going outside for a few minutes. I will be back soon."

As he was walking and texting he realized he had no idea where he was anymore. He walked into what looked like another great hall, like the one where the conference was. Had he walked in circles? Was he back again?

He walked in and looked for a few well-known faces. Hanging out with Beverly was definitely a better idea than hanging out with Jack. She was better at reading all his subtle cues.

He grabbed his phone again thinking about sending her a text. As his gaze was focused on the screen of his phone, he suddenly bumped into someone's back.

"Sorry-" he started but then relief was all over his face.

"Will, what a wonderful coincidence." Hannibal greeted him.

He was holding a glass of champagne, wearing a dark navy blue suit. His tie was only slightly darker and his hair was impeccable just like the usual.

However, Hannibal's surprise was even bigger. Bumping into Will was an occurrence that he had fantasized about many times before. Bumping into Will wearing a non-plaid shirt was the ideal dream. All his attention was now on the only man in the world who could read him like a book.

"Yeah, it's good to see a well-known face. Are you here for the FBI congress too?" Will asked a bit confused. Why didn't he know Hannibal was going to be there too?

"The FBI congress?" Hannibal asked and nodded towards a big banner that stated The Annual Congress of Psychiatry and Mental health.

It was them when Will realized he was in fact in a different hall.

"I must have got lost while..."

"Running from Jack Crawford?"

Will laughed. "Actually, yes. Sorry, you were probably in the middle of a conversation."

"Not at all." Hannibal replied. "You are the most important person in the room."

"Yeah, sure." Will replied to Hannibal's charming antics.

"No, I'm serious. I mean, you are definitely the most important to me but this is a psychiatry congress, Will. If any of my colleagues recognize you, you will start running again."

Will looked around and felt like a mouse in a cat shelter.

"Is that Chilton?"

"Unfortunately so. Let's go out, shall we, dearest?"

"Definitely." Will said and allowed Hannibal to guide him outside. Hannibal's hand made his way to the small of his back, as if he was reassuring him that no one would bother him while he was there.

The cold outside felt like a second wave of relief. As his phone buzzed again he saw Beverly's name pop up on the screen

"Jack is losing his shit. Where are you?"

"Can you distract him for a while? Please?"

"I will introduce him to the candy bar. But you owe me one."

Will rolled his eyes and put his phone back in to the pocket of his pants.

"Is Jack worried about your whereabouts?" Hannibal asked as they walked down a cobblestone alley which went through the labyrinth garden of the hotel.

"Yeah, worried that he can't show everyone his precious unicorn."

"What were the chances of you running into another congress where you still are considered the precious unicorn?"

"Turns out the chances were not small enough. What are you do-?"

"It's cold." Hannibal said as he took off his suit jacket and put it on Will's shoulders.

"No, keep it on."

"I definitely had more alcohol than you did, it keeps me warm."

"I was never able to tell."

"It's definitely necessary. Especially when Chilton is invited."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy this kind of congresses, doctor. You love the spotlight. Minus doctor Chilton."

"I do." Hannibal said, an amused smile on his thin lips. Will was looking through him just like one would flip the pages of a book.

"I will be fine. You should probably go back to your peers."

"I spent the whole weekend with them. I am more than happy to take a break with you."

"Should we pick it up from where we left if last week then?" Will suddenly asked as he discreetly looked around them. Judging by the silence, they were probably the only people in the whole maze.

"You mean before Jack called?"

"Why is that such a frequent occurrence?"

"Because you allow it, mylimasis." Hannibal replied and stopped, putting himself in front of Will. "Where were we?"

"Your hands were right here." Will said as he grabbed them and put them on his hips. "And you were telling me...what were you telling me?" Will teased.

"How I genuinely believe there is no being on this earth who equals your beauty." Hannibal said and leaned in for a kiss which Will dodged.

"And what else was there?"

"Then I said that even God must perish in jealousy because of how much I adore you, my beautiful deity."

Will nodded. "Why are you feeding my ego?"

"It needs to be fed too, my dear." Hannibal said as he managed to steal a kiss. "No part of you will stay hungry while I'm here."

"Keep talking." Will said and tried to banish the voice in his head that was calling him a spoiled kid.

"People build altars and churches to show their devotion to God. They believe that their endless buildings mean something. They don't know what true worshipping is."

"And you do?" Will asked as he allowed himself to lean in and kiss Hannibal. His touch was soft but the way he bit his lower lip until blood came out made Hannibal yearn for more.

"I can show you at home." Hannibal said instantly and grabbed Will's hand. He was going to find the way out of there, he would put Will in his car and they would leave that place behind.

And at home, he would give Will all the adoration he deserves.

[sanarsi]

Gardens of Eden

Din Djarin x goddess!f!Reader

Summary: Another bounty hunt goes wrong when he comes across a creature whose influence changes his view of everything. Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of using weapon, goddess!immortal!reader, reader has long hair which can change colour (you will understand), sub!Din (by reader’s power), unprotected PIV, loving sex, soft!dom!Din, creampie Wordcount: 3,4k An: First shot with my fav Pedro boy. For a long time I resisted writing something with him because I thought it had to be perfect. Din is my first love, that's why he and my fav band together create a mind-blowing mix for me. Sooo hold my beer bc I’m just getting started ;) Music I worked with: Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

Masterlist

He had never been in a place like this, a planet full of greenery and colorful flowers like something out of a story about what paradise could look like.

As a bounty hunter, he had been in places that were more look like hell. It was rare for his bounties to be in places like this. The energy that reigned around made it easy to fall into a sense of security, but he knew better than to allow himself to have false feelings.

The transmitter in his hand flashed more frequently, assuring him that he was well on the way to target. His finger rested on the blaster trigger, ready to disarm his opponent if necessary.

His careful steps prevented the slightest sound, giving him the opportunity to create a surprise effect. The quiet chirping of birds echoed in the background, and wild animals fled in panic, sensing danger.

Everything here seemed peaceful, unlike what was happening elsewhere in the galaxy. The dense forest barely let in the rays of the three suns shining high in the sky, yet everything was bright.

The tracker blinked harder, catching his attention, the red light letting him know that his target was within reach.

He looked ahead, putting the device in his pocket and took a few cautious steps before he spotted a clearing ending the forest border.

The birdsong was drowned out by the increasingly distinct sounds of running water. He stopped behind one of the trees and slowly began to look around the exposed area. With the trigger of his blaster, he moved a few leaves blocking his view and then his gaze fell on you.

You were sitting on a large rock by the stream, giggling as you dipped your hand in the water. Your long white hair blindingly reflected the sun's rays and the translucent white material of your dress flowed down your body.

You looked like a living example of innocence.

Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way you gracefully moved your fingers across the surface of the water, sitting completely unaware of the threat that he was.

A gentle smile adorned your face, adding to your charm, and he had to admit that he hadn’t seen such a beautiful sight in a long time.

He had seen a lot in his life but he had never experienced such conflicting emotions as you had stirred in him. He knew very well that appearances were deceptive and you could have turned out to be the worst thing he had to fight so far but he simply couldn’t…

He couldn’t shake this strange feeling that he had stumbled upon something beautiful, innocent and flawlessly good. As if some greater power was letting him know that he even shouldn’t have aimed a gun at you.

He stepped forward to get a better view of you, but as it turned out, it was a bad decision.

A dry branch snapped under his weight, piercing the space like a shot. Everything around fell silent as you straightened like a string and looked in his direction. His heart stopped for a moment as he looked into your eyes and saw fear in them.

He cursed himself in mind and slowly walked out from behind the trees, spreading his arms to show that he meant no harm.

Unfortunately, your reaction was the opposite of what he wanted to achieve.

Your hair changed color from shiny white to blacker than the forgotten ends of space in a second. He watched this in shock, slowly approaching you and to his surprise, you didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and to confirm his words, he slowly put the blaster behind his belt. You didnkt even notice, continuing to stare into his black visor, and even though he was wearing a helmet and thick armor, he felt naked under your gaze. “Please,” he added more gently.

His words didn’t work.

The blackness of your hair seemed to only deepen with each step he took. He didn’t know where the feeling of desperation had come from in his body, for you to trust, that he didn’t have bad intentions towards you; or at least not anymore. And it was this desperation that made him fall to his knees a few steps away from you.

Surprisingly, it did just that, your hair lightened a few shades, matching the greynes of his beskar. Your watchful gaze began to examine every inch of his body as if you were assessing the threat he posed to you.

“You’re a bounty hunter,” you noted.

Your voice didn’t match your appearance at all, sharp and commanding, as if you had lived much more than he had. As if you had lived centuries.

“I am,” he confirmed, feeling deep in his bones that trying to deceive you was purposeful. His honesty made your hair lighten a bit and your eyes filled with interest.

“And yet, you don’t want to hurt me.” You raised an eyebrow, wanting to let him know how absurd his words sounded.

“I don’t,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.

He didnkt know if it surprised you or him more, after all, he had come here for one purpose and he had the impression that you knew it very well.

His answers were short and honest, giving a sense of sincerity but even that didn’t seem to convince you.

“So why are you in full armor and armed?” you asked even though you knew the answer. This wasn’t the first bounty hunter or even Mandalorian with whom you had the pleasure to dealt with.

“It’s part of my culture.”

Yes, you’ve heard that answer before.

“Indeed,” you nodded thoughtfully, your gaze dropping to the shiny beskar again. You had never seen a hunter who looked as majestic as he did, which made you interested in him even more.

Din watched as you finally flinched to look at him from a different perspective, your hair getting closer to its original color with every passing second.

“I can’t trust you.”

Your gaze met his again as if there was no helmet on his head at all.

Your words were completely justified and yet, there was a tightness in his chest that made him realize how much he wanted— no, needed you to change your mind.

Before he could say anything, you stood up from the stone and slowly walked over to him. The sheer material of your dress gave him a perfect view of your entire body, but his gaze was still fixed on your eyes.

“Stand,” you said and there was no room in your tone for his protest.

He obediently rose from his knees, forcing you to look up as he now towered over you.

“I don’t trust you,” you declared, plunging another dagger into his chest. Your sharp gaze made him understand that he was too weak to let you stab again.

“Then make me earn your trust,” he said it confidently and really meant it. He was willing to go as far as he had to.

His words hung between you, finally letting the birdsong and the rush of the stream reach your ears.

The grey slowly began to give way to white with each passing second as you thought about his words and what was behind them.

“I exist beyond any religion.”

These words should have caused a red light to go off in his head, but nothing like that happened. Instead of common sense and the Laws of the Way, a small flame appeared in his body, drawing him towards you. There was nothing in your look that could suggest that you wanted to force him to do something, on the contrary, you were giving him the opportunity to leave.

But the seconds passed and he still stood there, worse, he nodded, giving you a sign that he had made a decision. A decision that start the downfall of his beliefs.

“Your way does not lead here, Mandalorian,” you said as if he didn’t know.

But he did. Better than anyone before him.

But that worry died faster than it appeared the moment your hands found their way to his armor. Despite the beskar separating you, he could have sworn he felt your burning touch.

Your attention focused on the clasps of each protector that you slowly pulled off of him and Din couldn’t do anything but watch your face as if hypnotized.

You carefully placed each piece on the grass, showing his armor the respect he was grateful for.

A sharp intake of breath sounded through his modulator as you knelt before him to remove the protectors from his thighs. The sight was definitely too stimulating for him, and you could see his cock smacking the material of his pants. You didn’t comment on it, but to his surprise, you leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his bulge. A shameful groan escaped his throat as his dick twitched, eager for your closeness.

You straightened up, leaving him in just his clothes and helmet. Your gaze didn’t meet his as you continued to work on each clasp, revealing his arms, chest, stomach, legs, every part of him that was decorated with scars.

“Will you tell me their story?” you asked, running your fingertips over the wound on his right chest.

Shivers ran through his body at your gentle touch.

“Each one of them,” he blurted out on a ragged breath.

His answer brought a gentle smile to your face, and he didn’t miss the way your hair flashed white again. You felt good again. Safe.

He wanted to ask about it, but as the words formed on his tongue, a dozen other questions suddenly appeared so he just kept quiet. He preferred to blame it on his own flood of thoughts rather than the fact that your gaze was rendering him speechless.

The sparkle in your eyes seemed even brighter than your snow-white hair. For a moment he lost his breath and then he twitched anxiously, feeling your hands on the edge of his helmet.

You waited.

One second, two, but there was no sign of resignation from him, so you continued.

The fresh air brushed his cheeks and then his hair, bringing a strange feeling of relief. He didn’t expect this after he willingly let his helmet be taken off. He expected negative emotions, anger at himself and his tormentor. But when he saw you without any barriers, he couldn’t feel anything but desire.

His dark eyes, dressed in small wrinkles, radiated with warmth but also emptiness.

He seemed lost, not in an endless galaxy but in his own mind.

A curved nose that hid a thin lips surrounded by the same dark stubble as his irises. To that, messy hair from constantly hiding his identity from the world.

He was beautiful. Wounded by life but beautiful.

“You look tired,” you said sympathetically, lifting a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw.

He let out a shaky breath as he felt you.

Like— he really felt you.

His eyes closed on their own and his head tilted, clinging to your hand. His mind barely reached the memory of the last time someone had been this close with him. And he had to admit it felt good. The closeness of another person was so rare for him that he forgot how addictive it was.

You allowed him a moment of tenderness that he needed after so many years of loneliness and watched with affection as he snuggled into your touch.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he almost purred with pleasure.

“Will you let me to show you more?” you asked.

His hand covered yours before he began to place soft kisses on the palm of it. He didn’t even know how to describe what he was feeling; desire was too weak a word.

He felt hungry.

And that hunger seemed to keep growing.

The rough stubble irritated your skin and the soft lips brought relief. Every inch of his skin screamed for your attention. You saw how broken he was deep inside, how much he needed what you could give him.

“Please,” he moaned desperately.

“Then kiss me.”

That command made his gaze fall back to your face. He seemed in disbelief, searching for something that doesn’t exist. He found nothing in your eyes that could suggest the opposite of your words.

He didn’t need anything more.

His hands landed on your jaw, holding you hardly as his lips crushed yours even harder. You moaned, not expecting the force he used. He didn’t hold back, couldn’t hold back, allowing himself to drown in the moment as he hungrily began to kiss you. His tongue quickly found yours, forcing you to submit to his guidance. This time, you were the one who began to melt under his touch.

You kissed him back, wanting to give him as much as he needed and even more.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Lay down,” he said, overcome with the need to claim you.

You shivered, looking at him like a defenseless animal. You backed away from him as much as he would let you, before he followed you like a shadow as you laid down on the grass.

His lips attacked yours again in a thirsty kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to catch your breath with every chance he gave you because there weren’t many when his tongue didn’t want to stop caressing yours.

His large, warm hands slowly began to roam your body. Your dress was no barrier to feeling him as should.

He ran his fingertips over your breasts, teasing and bringing your nipples back to life. You moaned, thirsty for his attention in that place which he didn’t give you. Instead, he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. You wrapped your leg around his, pulling him closer to you.

His hard cock brushed against your core, making him hiss. He couldn’t hold back his instincts any longer, so with slightly too aggressive movements, he began to pull up the material of your dress, and only when it was all wrapped around your waist he was satisfied enough to pull away from you and look down between your bodies.

He was panting heavily from the kisses and allowed himself to stare at your temple for so long that you began to arch with desire. His cock quivered painfully at the thought of being inside you.

“Din,” you begged. His name on your lips sent a wave of shivers down his spine.

He looked at you, wondering how you knew his real name, but when he saw you, he was speechless again.

Your hair was lying around your head, and it wouldn’t have been strange if it wasn’t for the fact that it was now in a shade of light red.

“Please,” you moaned, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp. He couldn’t think straight seeing you like this, lying beneath him and craving his touch.

He wanted to give you what you needed, he wanted it so badly, but he was afraid that after so many years of celibacy he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you, and he really wanted to see you fall to pieces because of him.

“Cyar’ika…” he began hesitantly.

“Stop talking,” you cut him off, sliding your hands down his cheeks. “I want you inside me.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Just enter me,” you almost begged, feeling your core throb with desire.

So he did as you asked.

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed into you. He rested forehead against yours, overwhelmed, reveling in the warmth and wetness you greeted him with.

A feeling of bliss attacked all of his senses at once. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good, like he was right where he was supposed to be, like he was home.

Your moans mingled as his cock sank fully inside you. He shuddered as you began to clench around him, wanting more.

“It feels so good,” he whispered, and with a groan, he began to gently move his hips. He didn’t want to leave your core for even a second, so he simply ground his hips against yours, constantly filling you all.

You shivered, digging your fingers into his shoulders at the constant feeling of stimulation. Your cunt throbbed around him like she never wanted to let him go.

“Yes, so good,” you moaned, overcome with pleasure that was building inside you. You hugged his arms tightly, surrendering yourself completely to his care.

The gentle movements he fed you with were more than perfect for you to feel what kind of man he really was. He needed someone to show him how to take care of each other and that’s what you wanted to give him today. His heavy breath was lost in your mouth which constantly showed him how good he made you feel; your kisses were everywhere.

He finally forced himself to watch the blissful expression on your face. You looked beautiful, overcome with pleasure, your eyes closed and your lips parted; but what fascinated him more, was the way your hair turned redder with each thrust of his hips. He focused on that and entered you harder noticing the color suddenly darken.

So he thrust again-harder.

You howled as you felt the traces of your orgasm begin to show in your core.

Din began to experiment, he entered you slowly and gently, and after a moment he plunged his cock into you with animal strength. Your hair gave him a show of different shades of red and he quickly understood how that magic had worked.

So he began to do everything to make your hair the reddest it could be, such as a color of blood.

He found the perfect pace and intensity with which he caressed your pussy until you cried out of pleasure under him. He felt as if he had unlocked a forbidden ability that allowed him to know what you felt.

Suddenly everything made sense; black when you were afraid, red when you felt pleasure.

And he had to admit that red suited you the best.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he gasped, clenching his jaw as the pleasure began to build in his core too.

Your hair began to flash like a transmitter that led him to you, letting him know that you were fighting against the last barriers that separated you from fulfillment.

“Come for me. I know you want to,” he whispered against your ear, sending the missing stimulus through your body. The orgasm overshadowed your senses and gave him a unique spectacle as your hair ignited like living fire. Your pussy began to throb on him and he couldn’t fight the pleasure you were pulling him into.

He growled, cumming inside you in several bursts until his balls were empty. The orgasm momentarily blurred his vision and left his body trembling. The experience of such an aegis after so many years was overwhelming for him.

He wasn’t experiencing his peak, almost panicking from the intensity of it but then your fingers had a grounding effect on him. The gentle touch of your hands brought him the desired feeling of stability.

He looked at you with a drunken gaze and the first thing he noticed was your warm smile, only later the delicate pink color of your hair.

Tenderness.

He found himself wanting to learn what each remaining color meant. He wanted to be present for everything so he could learn to read you like an open book.

His breathing slowly calmed down under your touch. You stroked his cheek, watching a million emotions that flew through his eyes. You were silent, allowing him to experience, understand, and accept his own emotions, something he didn’t experience often.

“What are you?” he finally asked the most important question. You smiled tenderly and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

This gesture ignited something inside him, making him realize that he would like to feel this every day when he woke up and fell asleep.

“I am everything.”

[cottonlemonade]

Hello! I come once again to nourish myself with beautiful stories. Could I get a small peach lemonade with coconut water for Tendou Satori?

Stranded

word count: 591 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Tendou x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

request: fluffy, you missed the last ferry with husband Tendou

“Huh.“, Satori said, “To be fair, it could be worse.“

“Do tell. How?“

You heard him take a breath as if to start his reply when thick, heavy raindrops hit your skin. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Nevermind.“

You snorted and squeezed his hand.

The ferry (you were supposed to be on) moved steadily toward the horizon on the calm gray sea. Wistfully following it with your eyes you thought of the missed dinner reservation and honeymoon suite you splurged on for your wedding anniversary.

“Let‘s go find a hotel room for the night.“, you suggested and smiled, when he took off his backpack and held it above your head for a little shelter.

“A hotel room?“, he gasped, “What if we get there, and they tell us there is only one room left available, and that room only has one bed and when we share, you may get all cozy and your hand will accidentally graze my-“

“What‘s your point?“

“Roleplay. I thought that was obvious.“, he blinked.

“We’d like your freest room, please.” Satori leaned on the reception desk, dripping with charm and rain.

The young man behind the counter did a double take, then nodded, “Certainly, sir. Would you like an ocean view?”

The three of you turned to look at the tsunami-esque downpour drumming against the glass front of the hotel.

“Sure, why not.”, Satori shrugged and dug his wallet out of his pocket, ignoring the thin stream of water running from one corner.

“Do you guys offer room service? We’re not really fit for the restaurant.”, you asked, pointing unnecessarily to how your husband’s shirt clung to his lean frame, and your jeans that sat like a second skin on your generous hips.

“Unfortunately, we do not, but we have a gift shop if you’d like some dry clothing, Miss.”

“Missus.”, Satori interjected, “Took me a long time to get her. Don’t go undermining my hard work now, boyo.”

“O-okay uhm, Mrs…”, the receptionist quickly checked the name on the card, “Ushijima.”

“No, no. That’s our friend’s card. We’re just borrowing it.”, Satori explained casually.

The young man behind the desk looked down at the black card, then back up at the red-head.

“With permission.”, your husband added slowly.

After a few moments in which the receptionist obviously mentally went through every single training scenario he was ever taught, he typed up the information and gave the credit card back to Satori, as well as a key card to you.

Hand in hand, you waddled through the lobby until you eventually found the gift shop close to the hotel’s restaurant.

“Why did you get a bucket hat?”, you chuckled when, 15 minutes later, you revealed your new outfits to each other by the dressing rooms - it had taken a long discussion with several promises of later affection before Satori accepted that he should use a second changing room instead of coming into yours.

“To complete the ensemble, duh.”, he remarked, pulling the hat with the ridiculous, multicolored octopus print a little further to the left, “Once you live in Paris you learn a thing or two about accessorizing.”

“Uh huh. So that means you’re not gonna stop me from getting the flamingo floaties?”

“No, why? You look delectable in everything, my little praline.” He leaned down to give you an almost inappropriately deep kiss, his long fingers digging gently into your squishy curves.

“Happy anniversary, my love.”, you said quietly when he (reluctantly) broke the kiss.

“Happy anniversary of me becoming the happiest man on this planet.”

a/n: I cannot even exaggerate how much I adore this idiot. I hope you liked it, thank you so much for the request and your kindness! 🌟

[happyhauntt]

famous last words — james potter

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: you and james are sworn enemies. you quite like it that way.

─── pairing: james potter x quidditch player!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, banter, swearing. if you're a reader of my cedric series oh, captain! then you might find this familiar, it's a reworked version of chapter three. this was so much fun honestly i love sassy stuff like this.

─── word count: 2.1k.

     BY THE TIME THE TRAIN WHISTLES ITS ARRIVAL AT HOGSMEADE STATION, all you really want to do is go to bed. The golden glow of warmth has suffused your bones completely, lulling you into a delightfully sleepy state. You're curled up against the window when your friend Beth jostles you awake and practically carries you off the train, where you are utterly unsurprised to learn that the weather is terrible.

     The downpour does a spectacular job at waking you up. Droplets of freezing rain slip past the collar of your shirt and down your spine before you manage to pull your cardigan up over your head. A disgruntled scowl tugs at your lips as you race ahead of Beth to get a space on one of the carriages. Once you are safely situated in the dry, you look out into the rain, expecting to see Beth scarpering up the platform right behind you. Instead, she's sauntering towards the carriage, a wide smirk on her face, happy and dry beneath one of the big black umbrellas Hagrid is handing out on the platform.

     You frown, folding your arms over your chest, feeling distinctly soggy. Beth climbs into the carriage, giggling as she sits down beside you. You merely stick your tongue out at her.

     "Hey," Beth says, folding the umbrella back up before raising her hands in defence, accidentally splashing you both with rainwater, "you're the one who ran away. Don't blame me for being more observant."

     "I reject that," you reply indignantly. Beth offers up a hair tie from her wrist and you take it, still scowling, to tie your damp hair into a messy ponytail. "I am absolutely observant. Just not... all the time." Which basically means where sports isn't involved. Teachers have noted in their reports that you're easily distracted in class, with a mind that tends to wander rather than focus on the task at hand. Your mother used to call it butterfly brain. Thoughts light as air, settling down on one flower for a few moments until a prettier, more interesting flower comes into view. She didn't mean to make you feel bad about that, but it doesn't help when all your teachers are saying the same thing.

     The prettier flower is usually Quidditch. With a muggle upbringing, you hadn't been exposed to the brilliance of magic until a mysterious letter appeared on your eleventh birthday (delivered, you recall, stern-faced woman in peculiar emerald robes. If you'd known then that Professor McGonagall's first impression of you would be a wide-eyed child whose front tooth had just been knocked loose by a rogue cricket bat, well, you probably would've died of embarrassment. Now she's your Head of House. And most unfortunately, that's not the only time she's seen you missing a few teeth.) When you got to Hogwarts and saw students playing Quidditch for the first time, whizzing like arrows through the air on actual broomsticks— You'd been in love with the sport ever since.

     Almost every corner of your brain is taken up by Quidditch. A hundred different game plans and plays running on repeat. So Beth is totally wrong; you are very observant., and you are never more observant than when your eye is on the prize.

     This time, though, the prize was shelter. Skittering off through the downpour to get to the carriage without properly checking your surroundings wasn't the smartest route, but it worked. Sort of.

     Your pride hurts a little bit.

     Beth's just about done laughing at you when a knock on the carriage exterior catches your attention. A familiar face appears at the door. "Is there any room in here?" James Potter's smile is crooked, and his dark hair is damp and floppy from the rain, water dripping from the strands into his face. Bright eyes dart back forth between you and Beth, and suddenly you remember that only almost every corner of your brain is occupied by Quidditch.

     There's a stubborn little spot right in the middle, little more than a speck, really — but it's filled with nothing else but James fucking Potter.

     "There was a mass exodus from the train as soon as it arrived," he continues as his glasses start to fog up, "and the only other carriage left is full of second-years."

     Oh, you feel that one in your soul. Second-years are okay, sometimes, but usually they're excitable, too ready for the start of another year at magic school, and thus only bearable in small doses. By third year, the excitement is all about getting to choose which classes you take, and you understand this to a degree (you chose Divination, which sounded cool at the time but was an absolute fucking mistake, because you might enjoy the spooky muggle stuff but predicting the deaths of all your friends is not fucking fun, no matter how good your end-of-year grade was for it ) but the novelty quickly wears off.

     You suppose that's why James has chosen to risk his life by sitting in a confined space with you, instead. The three of you are well-seasoned veterans of Hogwarts and its bullshit by this point and, as a result, are appropriate company.

     The fact that both of you are his teammates is probably a nice bonus, too.

     You, however, offer a merciless smirk. James Potter is, without doubt, your worst enemy, and it fills you up with glee to inconvenience him at any opportunity. "You snooze, you lose, Potter. Off to the second-years you go!" You even make a shooing motion, just for good measure.

     Beth smacks your arm and rolls her eyes, offering James a pleasant smile. "There's loads of room, ignore them," she says, and while you're busy dramatically rubbing your arm and muttering expletives, James takes a seat on the bench opposite you. Rain hammers against the roof, somehow louder than it was a moment ago, and a self-satisfied grin creeps onto his face as the carriage begins its journey to the castle.

     "Where are the rest of the merry morons, then?" You ask, quirking a brow at him. You're pretty sure you can count on one hand the number of times you've seen James without at least one of his comrades in mischief. Frankly, it's rarer than spotting a unicorn in the wild. You wonder if you should take a picture to commemorate the occasion.

     He looks sheepish as he pulls his glasses off to wipe away the condensation. "Lost a bet."

     He doesn't elaborate, and you don't care enough to ask him to. You've been at school with them long enough to know that, honestly, it's probably best not to know.

     Beth reaches out and plucks a stray leaf from your hair. She waves it in your face, tickling your nose gently before letting it flutter to the ground. You slip your hand into hers, linking your fingers together. Beth is soft and sweet when she wants to be, and you're certain there's not a soul in the world who knows you this well. She has wormed her way into your heart, and you'd have to carve it out of your chest to be rid of her now.

     "Does anyone know who our captain is yet?" You ask aloud, after a few seconds of silence have passed. You're tired enough to curl up on the floor of the carriage and fall asleep right then and there, lulled by its gentle rocking and pitter-patter of the rain, but you should probably be conversational. There's very little worse than awkward silence, especially with James sitting there, staring at you with that dopey half-smirk on his face.

     You want to smack him. You want him to think you're extraordinary. You're not quite sure how to cope with such emotional extremes, but there they are, coexisting at the front of your mind. They war with each other, an itch you can't scratch because if you, you'll keep going until there's blood.

     His, preferably.

     It's not even that you hate James. Not really. You used to, only a year or so ago, because he made it so easy. With his smug little smile and the skip in his step, with his quips and jokes and way his hair curls over his brow, you'd fucking despised him. He'd set himself up as your rival back in second year, when you made the Gryffindor team at the same time. With the blurred stretch of years between then and now, you can't remember quite how it began, or what he did precisely that sparked this eternal grudge, but what followed is years of goading one another, pushing and pushing and pushing to outdo one another.

     The rivalry has made you so much better than you ever could have dreamed. Quidditch is your life and honestly, without James Potter, you're not sure where you'd be with it. Still good, perhaps. But maybe not very nearly the best.

     (You'll die before you tell him that, though. Or he will. You're not that picky and he does seem to have a death wish.)

     The carriage jolts as one of the wheels dips into a pothole. The thought of skipping the feast entirely sneaking past Professor McGonagall to go straight to your dorm is a tempting prospect. You know Beth won't let you do it, because if she has to sit through Dumbledore's speech then she'll drag you down with her, but it might be worth a shot.

     The silence persists for a few more seconds, growing steadily more awkward. When no one responds to your question, you press on. "We should've heard by now, right? Team captains get picked in the summer, and we need a new one because Hilary graduated last year." Do you sound a little bit agitated by your teammates' lack of urgency? Yes. Just a touch. But the look on Beth's face is fucking suspicious, and James... Well. He looks like he'd rather die.

     You narrow your eyes. "What are you not telling me? Spit it out, the pair of you."

     James coughs once, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he does so. For once the typical arrogance is gone, washed away with the rain. He looks dreadfully uncomfortable, turning bright red as he bashfully says, "Well. Uh. I am, I suppose. The new captain, that is." He has the good sense to look frightened.

     You hope, suddenly, that his cough means he caught pneumonia or something. Nothing fatal, obviously, but just enough to put him out of commission for a little while. You don't really mean it (you're not quite as horrible as some people would like to think) because James is one of the best on the team. Sometimes, you'll begrudgingly admit that he's even the best on the team   ━   but only if you get to be second best, obviously.

     Which is why you're a little shocked, of course, but not surprised. Not surprised at all, because he is good. Even as you sit there, pondering the many ways you could kill him and make it look like an accident, you know he's good. Too fucking good.

     Which is why you say, "Tell me you're kidding."

     James furrows his brows. "I'm not kidding?"

     You can feel Beth's shoulders shaking beside you, trying desperately to smother her amused cackles. James' expression softens a little as he realises this is a joke, sort of, and he begins to grin.

     "No, really," you say, this time the hint of a smile forming on your own lips, "tell me you're kidding. I'm begrudgingly proud and all that, because it had to be one of us," you wave your free hand at him, you'll have the captaincy one day, "but also, like, tell me it's a joke."

     "Why?"

     "Because I'm genuinely considering pushing you out of this carriage."

     James shrugs his shoulders, as if to say 'yeah, that's fair.' He gets it, he really does. You love that someone gets it. "It's not a joke, I'm afraid. Better luck next time, though!" He says it in a jolly tone of voice, and oh, you hate him.

     That's the thing with the two of you. You're sworn enemies, right, but you make each other better. He tries harder because you light a fire under his arse and bloody hell, you're itching for a chance to burn him, and vice versa.

      So you smirk, now. Square your shoulders. You've baited him into a competition, and you are absolutely ready to deliver. "Famous last words, Potter. Famous last words."

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Mountain gets sick. It’s rare that he does, rare for any ghoul really, but somehow some human virus got him. Rain volunteers to look after him, he isn’t exactly high maintenance when he’s sick, just clingy. All he wants is to be held and pet and loved on a little while he tries to sleep away the sickness. Rain doesn't mind it. He actually quite likes it.

Unfortunately for Mountain, on day three of his sickness, his rut hits. He wakes up with an all too familiar burning feeling in the pit of his stomach, knot throbbing and his cock rock solid between his legs. He cries when it doesn’t go down. Rain reassures him that it’s fine, that he’ll look after him and make him feel better but Mountain just cries more when Rain tries to touch him. He’s too weak, too overwhelmed and overstimulated from being so ill, his skin too sensitive.

Rain ends up cockwarming him for a while. It’s just enough to take the edge off his rut but not too much that it overwhelms him completely. He lies next to Mountain, chest to chest, his leg thrown over Mountains hip, with the earth ghoul buried deep inside him. Mountain keeps his face buried in Rains neck, he has since he got sick, giving the occasional lick to his scent glad.

It only lasts a few hours before Mountain is letting out a painful whine, rolling his hips lazily. “M-more.” His voice is croaky and a little high pitched from not being used. “Please. Need more.”

Rain coos at him, brushing away the few strands of hair that had fallen into Mountains face.

“Yeah? Ready for more now?”

Mountain nods, rolling his hips with a little more enthusiasm before collapsing back into bed with a cry.

“Cant do it.” His eyes well with tears. “I’m so exhausted, but I- I need it.” He chokes a sob.

Rain brushes away the tears on his cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I’ve got you, babyboy. I said I’d look after you, didn’t I?”

Mountain nods and he let out a pitiful sniffle. Rains doesn’t say anything else, just slips Mountain out of him causing him to whine.

“Lie on your back, darling. Let me take care of you.”

Mountain does as he’s told, he couldn’t fight back even if he wanted to. He moves very sluggishly onto his back, looking up at Rain with expectant eyes as the water ghouls straddles his hips. It’s only then that Rain gets a good look at his face and notices just how sick Mountain looks. His lips are dry and chapped, his skin ghostly pale and chalky. His normally bright eyes are dull and almost scarily lifeless, dark circles set deep beneath his eyes. His hair is limp and lifeless, damp with sweat and matted from the little care. Rain still thinks he looks beautiful.

“Oh my darling.” He rubs up and down At Mountains chest, watching as his breath hitches. “You really got hit with a double edged sword, didn’t you.”

Mountain whines and nods, pouting a little as his hips jump upwards. He has no control over it, it’s just instinct at this point.

“I’ve got you.” Rain whispers. He sinks down onto him without another word. Mountain gasps, his hands gripping at Rains thighs but he makes no moves to stop him.

Rain rides him slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him, but also wanting to give Mountain an out of he wanted it. He moves his hips in slow figure eights, running his hands over any part of Mountain he can reach. Mountain struggles to keep his eyes open, it’s a battle Rain watches in slight amusement until eventually Mountain loses and his eyes slip closed. He’d think he was asleep if it wasn’t for the little moans and whimpers he was letting out.

“Such a good boy, Mount. Doing so well for me.” Rain praises as he pets over his chest. “Feeling good, baby? You’re being so good for me.”

Mountain doesn’t last long. Rain didn’t expect him to. It was only a matter of minutes before he’s pawing at Rains thighs with a whine.

“Rain, I’m gunna- need to-“ His voice is breathless and high pitched. “Knot. Gunna knot.”

Rain grabs at his hands, squeezing them. “That’s it, baby. Knot me. Make yourself feel better.”

Rain watched at Mountains eyes screw shut and his mouth drops open with a long moan as his knot pops inside Rain. Rain lets out a little grunt as it does, feeling himself gets stretched out. He feels as he gets flooded with warmth as Mountain starts to cum.

“I can feel you.” He hums, rubbing at his lower stomach. “Can feel you filling me with your kits.”

Mountain moans.

“Filling you with my kits.” He cracks his eyes open and Rain can see there’s a little more life in them now, a little glint. “Gunna take this time, I know it.” He slurs out.

Rain can’t help but smiling at the blissed out expression on Mountains face.

“Feel any better?”

Mountain nods.

“You didn’t cum.” He pout up at Rain.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. This wasn’t about me, just wanted to make you feel better.” Rain thumbs over Mountain bottom lip with his thumb. Mountain parts his lips and sucks the digit into his mouth with a hum.

“Can we cuddle again now? I’m so tired and I don't like you being this far away.” He mumbles around Rains thumb.

“You’re literally inside me.” Rain chuckles at him.

“Yeah but that’s still too far away.” Mountain pouts, pawing at Rains hips.

Rain moves them both, carefully so he doesn’t tug on the knot, so they’re back in their original position, chest to chest, his leg over Mountains hip. Mountain immediately buries his face back into Rains neck, inhaling his comforting scent.

It takes him a matter of seconds to fall asleep, a gentle purr rumbling through his chest. Rain can’t help smiling as he runs his fingers through Mountains hair. It had been the first time he’d seen Mountain this content the whole time he’d been sick.

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 10

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Job loss, big life changes, moving, I guess this is growing up. Summary: There are more changes in store for you and Zach and more difficult decisions to make, but sunlight is rising over the next phase of your lives. Notes: Well, my darlings, it looks like this is the last full chapter of Zach and Dio's sweet soulmate tale. Next week will be the epilogue and then the following week we'll embark on a whirlwind romance with Javi Gutierrez!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

It takes a few rings for the sound to penetrate that deep fog of sleep. Comfortably curled around your body, Zach sleeps better now than he ever has before and he is reluctantly pulled away from it as his phone goes off on the nightstand behind him. “What the fu-“ it’s still early, only two in the morning so he’s not expecting anyone to be calling.

"Good morning, Mr. Wellison." The captain's voice isn't unfamiliar to him, but it certainly is a shock to hear in the middle of the night.

“Captain.” Zach completely untangles from you as he sits up, trying to keep his voice quiet as he slips out of the bed. “This is a surprise sir. What can I do for you?”

"We're making calls this morning." The Captain pauses, an audible frown in his voice. "I'm sorry, I'm just seeing now that you took shore leave. It must be quite early for you back in the States."

Zach pulls away the phone from his ear and checks the time. “It’s two thirteen.” He tells the captain honestly. “That’s alright, is everything okay?” He’s confused why the captain would be making calls.

"Unfortunately not." The older man clears his throat, grunts something unintelligible, and harrumphs audibly. "It appears as though the repairs needed on the ship are more extensive than we originally thought," he explains, a glum note of unhappiness in his voice. "And all crew members are being given the option to be transferred to one of the other two ships owned by our company, or to take a buy out of the remainder of their contract."

“Uhhh.” He’s still half asleep and not running on all cylinders, so he turns to see you turning over towards him, still asleep. “I see, um, when do we need to let you know?” He asks, not wanting to make a decision without talking to you.

"We're asking everyone to make their decision as soon as possible," he explains, and Zach can hear a snuffle in the background. "E-mails will be sent out in the next hour detailing both options, but you'll notice a 48-hour deadline on the decision. We know it's fast, but we want to get everyone transitioned and settled as quickly as possible."

“Thank you for letting me know.” He tells him quietly. “I’ll let you just as soon as I can.” He knows it won’t be easy to instantly make a decision, but he feels like he knows what you will want to do, provided the band is in agreement.

“Good. Thank you.” The captain sounds understandably tired, but it isn’t as if this course of action is his first choice. The cruise had been going extremely well from every point of view except mechanical. “Your club has been a great asset to the company, Wellison. Just know we would be very sad to see you go.”

“Thank you, sir.” He knows the captain had come in to dine several nights and he feels like it’s a great honor to be complimented like this.

"Sorry to wake you." It's fairly obvious that he did, but this day is going to be unpleasant for everyone, she the best he can do is apologize. "And Wellison...are you with your soulmate, or should she get a separate call?"

“She’s still sleeping.” He tells him. “I’ll talk to her just as soon as she wakes up. No need to call her separately. I’m sure you have plenty of calls to make.”

"Roger that." The captain clears his throat again and nearly sighs. "Look forward to hearing from you both. Good morning, Wellison." And that's it. Just the click of the line going dead as the call vanishes from the screen of Zach's phone.

Zach stands there for a moment, processing the fact that both of you either have to move to other ships or be paid out for the rest of the contract. He looks down at the phone and then over at you in the darkness of the room before he creeps back over to the bed to climb back in. Things will be changing again and he knows that you will want to talk to the band before making any decisions.

******

The alarm you've set for the morning is on the early side for a Sunday, but you had wanted to get back over to your grandmother's house to sort through some more things before having one last dinner with your parents. The blaring pulls you out of an anxious dream, and you nearly jump to shut it off.

Zach hums, not asleep as you reach for your phone. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep the rest of the night. Too busy worrying and wondering about the future, even curled around you. He watches as you turn back towards him and gives you a small smile. "It's too early." He tells you.

“I know baby, I’m sorry.” You pout but lean in to press a kiss to his lips. “We said we wanted to get stuff done before we fly out tonight.”

He takes the kiss very willingly. "About that..." He pulls back and sighs softly. "I don't think we are going to be flying out tonight."

“Oh god,” you groan instantly. Zach’s obviously more awake than you are so maybe he’s gotten a notification from the airline or something. “Did our flight get cancelled?”

"No." He sits up and pulls you against him. "Do you want to talk now or after coffee?"

“That sounds…serious.” In a week you’ve lost your beloved grandmother, had a falling out with your mother, married your soulmate, and then started to reconcile with your mother. Any more of an emotional rollercoaster and you might just curl up into a ball and stay there. “Better have coffee while you give me the bad news.”

"I don't know if it's bad news," he admits quietly, but he kisses your forehead and unwinds his arm from around you to slip out of the bed. He reaches for his pants. "I'll go grab some coffee from the lobby and bring it back."

“Grab some muffins?” It’s a quick breakfast and enough to get you through, plus it will give you an extra minute or two. “I’ll throw myself under a quick shower and actually be awake when you get back.”

"Of course." He pulls his pants on and grabs his shirt. "Maybe they will have those raspberry Danishes." The hotel actually got their breakfast breads from a local bakery and they were delicious.

“Fingers crossed.” You give him another kiss and pop out of bed to hit the shower, wondering what the hell else could have happened in just the space of a week.

Your room is on the first floor of the hotel, so it's just a quick trip down the hall to make two large paper cups of coffee, sweetener and creamer like you enjoy. Moving over to the continental breakfast to pick up a plate of pastries.

By the time he comes back you’re just finishing up in the bathroom in your last set of fresh clothing. “Alright…” he’s brought back a plate full of pastry choices and your perfect cup of coffee, and you sit down together at the little table by the room’s picture window. “What’s happened?”

"I got a call this morning." He explains after taking a sip of the coffee. "Surprised that it didn't wake you, but you were exhausted last night."

“You got a call this morning?” You really must have been sleeping like a damn log, it was only 8 when your alarm went off. You should have woken up to his phone ringing. It only takes a second, though, before your mind catches up with you. “Is Shane okay? Did something happen?”

"I think Shane is okay." He promises. "The phone call was from the captain."

“Just rip the band-aid off, baby. What’s going on?”

“The ship needs more repairs than they expected.” It was not secret amongst the crew that every port day was spent trying to repair what was breaking but it needs an overhaul. “They are offering to buy out our contracts or put us on other ships.”

‘We’re losing our jobs’ is definitely not the bad news you thought you were about to get, and for a minute all you can do is sit and stare at Zach in a panic. “We’re…” you have to remind yourself to breathe. Things are very different now than they were even a few days ago. Still, it’s a shock. “Shit…”

“Yeah.” Zach chuckles, knowing his own racing thoughts had matched the panic that raced across your face. “We could move to another ship…” he pauses, “but we might not get the same ship.”

"I hate those odds." They could put Zach anywhere and he would be an immeasurable asset to a crew. But you? You'll be singing 80s ballads in an ill-fitting nylon gown faster than you can blink. "But I gotta talk to the band. Shit."

“I know. I figured that you would want to see what their thoughts are before making a decision.” He takes another sip of his coffee.

"What do you want to do?" He must have been thinking about it. About what he would do if the decision was just up to the two of you.

“Baby, where you go, I go.” Zach promises. “Unless you want me to take the ship assignment while you figure things out? Keep money coming in?”

“The day after we get married and you want me to be singing sad songs?” Teasing him is about the only thing that makes you feel normal right now, but you slump back in your chair with your coffee and shake your head. “If not for Gram, that might have been necessary. But between the funds we have now, the buy out from our contracts, and my inheritance? We have a really good cushion.”

“Okay.” He agrees, secretly relieved that he wouldn’t have to be separated from you. “I wouldn’t want you to sing sad songs.” He chuckles. “We talk to be band, see how they are feeling. Maybe they want to continue the contract, maybe they are tired of tiny cabins.”

"I dunno," you huff out a wry laugh. "Our soulmate cabin was definitely bigger than a New York City one bedroom apartment."

He snorts in agreement. “You aren’t wrong.” He shakes his head.

"I hate to say it." The cup of coffee in your hands is a comfort, warming you through with every sip. "But we should probably stay here a little longer. Talk to Tanya about the place in New York. If we're back on dry land, maybe we can speak to the current tenants of that apartment."

“We could fly out there, take a look in person.” He nods. “See what needs to be done to the venue.”

"We should talk to the band and to Tanya before we decide anything." Either way, you realize with a sigh, he's right. You're not flying out tonight. "And I should see if I can get a refund on the plane tickets."

“Fingers crossed.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to wake up at two o’clock this morning to worry about this.”

"Two?" Your face drops. "Baby, please tell me you got back to sleep."

“That’s not a big deal.” He shoots you a grin. “We used to get less sleep when we were partying on the ship.”

"Yeah, but we weren't sitting up in bed worrying," you remind him, though your expression turns from worry into a wry smile. "We were drinking and dancing and then going home to have sex."

“Maybe.” He concedes that it was definitely a lot more fun. “But at least I got to hold you while I worried.”

"Next time wake me so I can comfort you instead, okay?" One more sip of your coffee and it's gone, so you set down your cup to lean over and kiss him. "I should call the band. It's the afternoon in Rome already."

He knows it’s pointless to argue that you needed your rest, so he just hums. “Yeah, they should be out and about.”

Something compels you to FaceTime Shane instead of just calling him, and for a second you think maybe you've missed your friend a hell of a lot more than you realized. One hand holds your phone and the other reaches for Zach, anchoring you with support as you push through yet another wave of uncertainty.

As soon as the call connects, Zach knows that the band has heard the news and has probably been freaking out about it all. "Hey man." He lifts his free hand in a wave. "How's it going?"

"Been better." Shane shakes his head and shrugs. In the background you can see the rest of the band sitting around a table and more than a few empty plates and glasses. You caught them after lunch, it seems. "How are you guys doing?"

"Do you want to tell them first?" Zach asks playfully, looking over and tossing you a grin.

"Good news first." You agree, squeezing his hand quickly before letting go to waggle your fingers in viewof the camera. "We got married yesterday."

Zach laughs as the band erupts into shouts of surprise, well wishes and questions. All rapid fire at the same time and sounding like general chaos.

"Everybody chill the fuck out," you're laughing and feeling light all over again, especially when Diana pops into the frame to scream about not getting to be your maid of honor.

“I told you.” Zach laughs and he holds up his hand. “It’s been surreal.”

Another round of screaming happens, as if they all didn't quite believe it until they saw both of you wearing rings, but the joy from your friends is so much sweeter than last night's reception of the news -- no matter how necessary the conversations were that followed.

"That's not why we called," you admit, still laughing at Keo trying to inspect your rings through the phone screen.

“So I take it you got the call?” Cliff asks. “Shane wanted to call earlier but we thought they wouldn’t have called you yet.”

Zach snorts. “Got the call at 2 A.M. over here.” He says. “Not exactly the wake up call I wanted.”

"Cap didn't exactly check out the time difference, did he?" Rick rolls his eyes. "How are you guys feeling about it?" The band all know damn well that you and Zach come as a unit. They aren't going to fight that. It would make them pretty shitty friends if they did.

“Well, that’s why we are calling.” Zach admits. “We wanted to hear your thoughts on it.” They don’t know there is a possibility of another path, but he wants to hear what they think.

"Well...we don't really have a choice." Cliff motions between himself and Rick. "Work is work."

Zach looks over at you. “What if there was another option?”

Shane snorts. "I'm not moving to Oklahoma, man."

Zach nods towards you, wanting you to tell them about the wonderful gift your grandmother left you. “Babe?”

"Thing is..." You sit up straight in your chair like you're just sitting across the table from your friends. Your coworkers. Your bandmates. "I've inherited...something kind of massive from my Gram." In an odd way it feels like bragging, although you definitely don't mean it to be. "Turns out she owned some real estate in Brooklyn that used to belong to my grandfather's family."

"Out with it." Shane insists, seeing you practically squirm in your seat.

"I..." you're holding your breath without meaning to. "Inherited a nightclub."

Instead of the chaos of the announcement of your marriage, this is met with complete silence. Nothing is heard from the other side of the call, not even a chuckle of disbelief as they all stare at you, dumbfounded. Zach looks away from them, to you, and then back at the screen. “Did we lose you?” He asks, thinking the call might have frozen and that’s why they aren’t even blinking.

“You fucking what?” Shane chokes.

Zach chuckles. “I know, I felt the same in the lawyer’s office.” He admits. “We don’t know everything that needs to be done to it, but…” He looks over at you and smiles while holding your hand. “How would you guys like to stay on dry land for a while?”

“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the band still hasn’t broken yet, but Shane looks like he’s about to cry. He’s clinging to Diana — who also has a distinct shine to her eyes — and gawping.

“Yeah.” Instantly you’re sniffling too, bobbing your head in agreement. “We’re serious. It might be a shit ton of work, but we have to at least try.”

“It’s in New York, so I understand if some of you are hesitant. Rent is high and it’s tough to make it there, but I think we can do it.” Zach murmurs softly. “But could you imagine our own club, like on the ship but we control everything?”

“Does it have a kitchen?” Keo bursts out the question like an explosion. “You’ve got to make your food!”

“That’s one of the questions we need to look into. I think there is, but is it what we will need?” He looks back over to you. “We want to fly out to New York to take a look.”

“Your room at the apartment hasn’t been touched.” Diana promises. “I hope it’s enough room for both of you.”

“I don’t think we will need it.” Zach looks over at you again. “At least— not for long.”

“That’s the other thing.” The sheepish look on your face is almost a grin. “Um…I also inherited a place to live. In Brooklyn.”

“Holy shit.” Rick exhales, shaking his head. “So- this is legit. I mean, we could have a permanent place to play?”

“We need to talk to the People who have been using the space. Figure out what the theater and everything needs. But…” You blow out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and nearly giggle. “Yeah. This is legit.”

“I’m in.” Keo blurts out. “Immediately. Whatever we need to do. Invest in repairs, swing a hammer.” He has worked plenty of construction jobs to make ends meet when the band first got started. “Don’t get me wrong, the cruise contract was amazing, but if we could do that on land? It would be amazing.”

“No landlord, no dick bosses, no bullshit bureaucracy?” Cliff groans with delight. “The cruise ship was fun, I’m glad I got to travel, but hell yes.”

“Shane? Rick?” Zach asks, looking at the other members. “What do you guys think?”

“Fucking obviously.” Rick huffs at the same time Shane snorts out a “Duh.”

Shane just shakes his head, your amazing and supportive surrogate brother through so many hard years, and a beaming grin cracks his face. “Look at you, kid. Making dreams come true.”

“Not me,” you insist, but the smile in your face matches his anyway. “That’s my Gram looking out for all of us.”

Zach shakes his head. “You also immediately wanted to look after your band.” He’s not going to let you not take your own due credit.

“Of course.” You practically bean at them across the phone call. “They’re my family.”

There’s a surprising amount of blushing and cooing coming from a group of musicians and Zach grins at the way they all repeat the sentiment back to you. “When do you guys plan on flying back to the US?”

“Another day or two?” Shane looks around and all the guys nod.”

“What are you guys planning?” Diana asks with bright eyes. “Maybe you could take a honeymoon?”

He hadn’t even thought about a honeymoon, but he looks over at you to see what your feelings are. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?”

“I guess we could.” You admit, smiling a little wider. “We hadn’t even considered it because we thought we were going back to work.”

“That’s true.” He leans in and nudges his nose against yours. The practical planner inside him is begging to race to New York and immediately start working to set up the club so you don’t have to touch your inheritance, but he can see that you like the idea. “Where would you want to go?”

“Anywhere. Nowhere.” You beam at him again. “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.”

The sound from the band is a unanimous groan of disgust followed by more raucous laughter. “Okay, you guys figure out what you’re doing,” Diana insists. “We’ll bring the stuff from your cabin back to New York with us.”

“Oh god!” Zach’s eyes widen as he realizes that he had completely forgotten about the rest of your belongings. “I’ll send you some money.” He promises Shane, knowing that he might have to ship some boxes of books.

“We’ll manage the logistics, brother,” the older man promises, and points a thumb at his own soulmate. “I’ve got the Queen of organization to help.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at Diana, waving at the other half of his former roommate.

“Anytime,” She promises. “Now go be cute and in love.”

The call ends and Zach leans over, kissing your cheek just to do exactly what Diana said, making you smile. “So what do you want to do, babe?” he murmurs.

“Nothing too big?” It feels wasteful to plan a world tour when you just talked to your friends about starting a business. “Maybe a few days someplace sunny and warm? Even a week if it’s not too expensive.”

“That sounds nice.” He bites his lip and waggles his brows. “Somewhere you have to wear a bikini?”

“If that’s what you want.” You practically snort at how excited he is for the idea.

“Why don’t we rent a little bungalow on a beach somewhere?” He suggests. “Swim, bonfire on the beach, grilling? Lots of sex?”

“Sounds like a hell of a vacation to me.” Leaning into his side, you have a gentle — if deep — sigh. “After the week we’ve had, I think we’ve earned an actual vacation.”

“I think that’s fair.” He chuckles. “We spend the weekend at a little bungalow and then meet everyone in New York? Take a look at our future?”

“We’ve got to check out of here in…” You glance at your watch. “Two hours. I say let’s do some research and figure out where we can transfer our tickets to? But we definitely need to go see Tanya before we leave town.”

“That works for me.” Zach nods and sighs softly. “I’m glad they were all so quickly on board.” He chuckles.

“The chance to do what we love and what we’re good at, on our own terms? I would have been shocked if anyone said no.”

“We’re going to have to work our asses off.” Zach bites his lip. “We need to make a Facebook page, right? Post pictures of the venue, clips of you singing on the ship. Maybe some of my dishes?” He asks, knowing that getting the word out is key to the success of the theatre.

“How about we make a list of what we’ll need to do and any thoughts we have about doing it on the flight?” Figuring you’ll at least be flying somewhere, you lean over to kiss him and get to your feet again with a stretch and a groan. “But Tanya will have information on the current tenants and I don’t want to make any plans until we talk to them.”

“I agree.” He nods. “We will make sure that no one is left homeless.”

“I’m going to get some more coffee for us, then we can pick out a honeymoon destination and get the ball rolling. Sound good, baby?”

Today had taken a turn. An enormous one, really. And while you can’t say you really know what’s coming next in this crazy, chaotic life — you have Zach. And maybe, just maybe, that’s all you really need.

******

Four days later, incredibly relaxed and extremely tan, Zach wheels yours and his carry ons off the plane while you check your messages. Once you had decided on your location and arrived, you had switched off your phones and just focused on each other. Taking a true mini honeymoon. “Do we want to get a taxi or take the subway?” He asks, not sure how many transfers are needed to get to Diana’s apartment.

“I hate taking luggage on the subway,” you admit, sheepish and lopsided grin fully in place in your face. “One more indulgence?”

“I don’t blame you.” He snorts and nods. “Yeah, let’s get a taxi.” Despite having spend three days indulging, you both had been frugal with your money. Zach grilling and cooking in the little bungalow kitchen rather than eating out and drinking.

“It’s a little bit of a ride; it’ll be worth it.” As Zach heads for the taxi stand, you trail just a step behind while you text Diana and Shane that you’re on your way over. They’ve been back in New York for two days and reportedly jet lagged as hell.

“Why don’t we pick up some food?” He asks. “Or is there a bodega nearby?”

"There's a bodega and a little Halal takeout place on the bottom floor of the building." Oh yeah, you're going to miss that place. "Best lamb kebab you've ever had in your life."

“Well, why don’t we order dinner for everyone?” He asks, walking with you towards the baggage claim. “I think we’re tired, they’re tired, an easy dinner is called for.”

"Then it's a good thing I know their orders." You send along another text letting Diana and Shane know you'll be bringing dinner along with your smiling selves, and then stuff your phone back in your pocket.

“Okay. Here we are.” The baggage claim is already running and he starts scanning for your luggage. “You want to go get us a taxi while I grab our bags, babe?”

“Sure.” A kiss to his cheek and you’re off again.

Taxi stand. Baggage claim. A drive from JFK all the way out to the two-bedroom apartment that you’ve shared with Shane and Diana for years.

It’s bittersweet knowing that this won’t be home anymore, but there is an excitement to the next part of your journey.

The apartment is a typical pre-war building, the restaurant on the bottom and there is a door to the left that leads to the stairs for the apartments. “This is a nice building.” He hums as he opens the door and reaches back to help you out of the taxi.

"It's pretty decent. Landlords are nice enough but drag their feet getting anything done. The super is this old Russian guy that I swear partied with Rasputin. At least, that's the vibe he gives off." You thank the driver and pass him a few bills as payment when he finishes taking your bags out of the trunk. "Our dinner order should be done by now, we can grab that and head upstairs."

“You remember that I used to be the maintenance guy for the building I lived in, don’t you?” He asks. “If Diana needs something immediately, I don’t mind doing it. Especially if we are staying here for a while.”

“Of course I remember.” Inside the first floor of the building, you slip into the restaurant and get in line to pick up your order. “The tenants in the townhouse said their real estate agent found them a few good leads so I don’t know how long we’ll be here but I know Di would love the help.”

“Sounds good.” He hadn’t had his own tools, so he didn’t have to store or sell them when he took the cruise contract, but he figures he can pick some up. He would need them for the theatre anyway. And helping you with any maintenance at the townhouse when you move in.

It’s a relieving feeling, to put your key in the lock of the apartment and push inside, calling out through the relatively small space that you’re home. And it’s even more relieving when you hear a thundering set of footsteps and nearly get pummeled by one of Diana’s remarkably strong bear hugs.

Zach laughs when you squeal and hug your friend back with equal enthusiasm. He’s never met Diana in person, but he feels like he’s already a friend through the phone conversations he had been looped in on with Shane. “Where’s your worst half?” He asks jokingly when you both pull apart.

“Shut the fuck up, Wellie.” Shane laughs, sauntering into the living room ready to dole out hugs of his own.

“Oh so she’s not the prettier, smarter, nicer side?” Zach snorts, reaching out and pulling Shane in for a hug and slapping his back with a few harsh thumps.

“Of course she is.” He returns the hearty back slaps and laughs. “But you deprived me of my only chance to be a best man so I’m gonna give you shit.”

“It was her idea.” He throws you under the bus with a grin and a wink. “Blame her.”

“Absolutely.” You grin, happily accepting a bone breaking hug from your friend. “All my fault.”

Diana grins at Zach and holds her arms open. “I feel like a hug is appropriate.” She promises and Zach nods, chuckling as he moves in to embrace her. “Nice to meet you in person.”

“It’s about time, too,” you agree, dabbing fake tears from your eyes and sniffling dramatically.

Zach groans playfully, rolling his eyes and pulling away to give Diana a commiserating look. “She’s hilarious, isn’t she?”

“Hey.” Shane flicks Zach’s ear and steals the bag of food from under his arm. “Be nice to your wife!” He orders, heading further into the apartment with everyone’s dinner.

“My wife.” A sappy look crosses his face as he repeats that he has to move back over to you for a kiss. “Want me to drop the bags in your room?” He asks. “Which one is it?”

“Our room.” Accepting the kiss with an equally gooey grin, you point down the hall. “Is the last room on the right.”

“Last room on the right.” He repeats and starts to cart the bags down the narrow hall, shuffling slightly.

The place is big enough for three without forcing you to be on top of each other and you’ve always been so grateful to Shane and Diana for being the best of roommates. So much so that now, with Zach here, you’re utterly certain that things would have been just fine if you had had to stay.

Once the bags are deposited, He follows the voices back to the main area to find you three opening containers and filling plates with the delicious smelling foods. “So how are you two feeling being back?” He asks. “Still getting used to the time change?”

“We mostly napped and unpacked yesterday.” Diana passes the rice container back across the table as she fixes her plate. “I have to go back to work tonight so I’m enjoying my last few hours of freedom.”

“Do you have a long shift?” He knows her schedule can be crazy and hopes that you both being here doesn’t disrupt her schedule. Taking the plate you hand him, he starts to fix his own food.

“The usual.” She shrugs and silently thanks Shane with a smile when he adds pickled onions to her plate. “Eleven hours. I’ll come home and have a few hours’ sleep and be normal again by noon.”

“Well, do you want us to wait to go see the theatre?” He asks.

“Oh, no way.” She laughs, waving off the kind gesture easily. “I don’t know the first thing about theaters. You all go and enjoy yourselves. Just let me know if I need to patch up an injury during clean up.”

“Shane will make sure he injures something so you get to baby him.” Zach teases, throwing his friend a grin.

“And?” Shane asks, no trace at all of shame in his voice as he starts to eat.

All three of you laugh, Diana rolling her eyes as she leans in and kisses his cheek. “Of course I will baby you.” She promises playfully. “No Nurse Ratchet.”

“Love you too.” He mumbles through a bite and a grin.

The four of you eat eager, Zach groaning over the flavors and starting to analyze how he could incorporate something into his own meals.

“So the boxes we shipped are getting here on Friday.” Shane tells you and Zach about halfway through lunch. “How long are your tenants going to be in the townhouse for?”

“What did she say again?” Zach asks, looking over at you. “Possibly by the end of the month?”

“Mmhmm.” You nod, letting yourself finish the bite you had just taken. “They’re looking at a couple of places this week. She said it was the push they had been looking for to move closer to their daughter now that they have a grandbaby.” It has actually been a joyful conversation instead of a tense one, as you’d discovered that your grandmother had been renting the townhouse in Brooklyn Heights to the same couple for years now. They had raised their daughter in that house, but now that She was married with a baby and the couple were retired, they were talking about leaving the city. “If all goes well, it’ll just be a few weeks.”

“Have the guys found a place yet?” Zach asks, frowning slightly. He knows that this is your room, but the rest of the band didn’t have apartments waiting on them.

“They’re subletting in Queens while they look around for something better.” Diana had been talking to Keo about it just this morning. “Rick’s cousin’s place.”

“Okay…..good.” That makes him relax a little more and he takes another bite of his food. “Hopefully they can find something closer, but at least they have a place.”

“They’ll be good for now.” You agree, equally as relieved that your friends have found space. “The worst-case scenario is that Rick stays with his cousin and Keo takes the room here.”

“Yeah.” He knows that there are options, but his past tends to make him a little more sensitive to those issues. “So, we’ll go tomorrow and see what the theatre is like.”

“The townhouse is three bedrooms,” you remind Zach gently, hearing the worry in his voice. “They won’t have to worry. They can always choose to stay with us.”

“I know.” He loves that you understand his worry and reaches out to squeeze your knee. “It will all work out.”

“One way or another.” You’re all going to take care of each other. That’s a promise that was made as long time ago and you have no intention of letting it go by the wayside now that you can really do something about it.

After the meal is finished, Zach looks over at Shane and Diana, catching both of them giving a small yawn. “Why don’t you two go catch a nap before Diana has to go to work?” He suggests. “We can clean up and settle in.”

“Are you sure?” Diana smothers another yawn.

“Of course.” Zach nods, reaching for her plate. “You need sleep to save lives.”

"We've got it, guys," you promise them. "Go snuggle up and we'll see you in a bit. We'll take care of the place."

Zach watches them disappear down the hall, and he smiles as he stands up. “I’ll wash these up if you will put up the food?”

"And when we're done, I'll give you the incredibly brief tour." There is no such thing as a large apartment in New York City unless you're a millionaire, so there isn't much of a tour to give, but this place will still be Zach's home for a little bit so you want him to feel comfortable.

“Is there laundry in the building?” He asks, knowing that it would be a miracle to have laundry in the actual unit and he doesn’t think that is going to happen.

"In the basement." It's good enough that it's there, you're not too sore about it not being in your own unit. "We all said we would do our own stuff but we ended up sharing things anyway. It just depended on who was having a shittier week that week."

“That seems logical and nice.” He admits with a chuckle. “Sometimes, a basement laundry in a building was the way I would get my own clothes washed.” He admits.

"Hell yeah." The two of you stack up dishes and leftovers together and head into the kitchen. "You do what you gotta do. I'm glad you were able to find places to get things done."

The kitchen is small, tiny even. A glaring light on the fact that most New Yorkers don’t cook at home. The number of restaurants to big of a lure.

"Is it bad that I'm thinking more about getting into our new place than being mindful that I'll be leaving here soon?" You're excited -- and after the haze of combined mourning and steps forward that you and Zach went through over the last ten days or so, it's an odd feeling.

“Not at all.” He admits with a shameless grin. “I had thought to ask if you wanted to walk by the townhouse tomorrow.”

“Absolutely.” There is absolutely no hesitation in that for you. “Let’s get up early and go walk around the neighborhood? See if there’s a good place for breakfast?”

“Also get a feel for it.” He hums. “The theatre is within walking distance, right?”

“Yeah. Three blocks away.” It’s enough to feel like you can leave the place and get a breather, but close enough that if something happens you can be there in a matter of minutes. Perfect, as far as small business ownership is concerned. “I can’t believe they’ve been using it for a cooking class pop up. That’s so weird but also kind of genius?”

“Yeah, and that means there has to be some kind of kitchen set up.” He reasons. “More than just theatre snacks.”

The nightmares scenario had been finding out that the place had a bar and a single popcorn machine, but that seems to not be the case at all. Right more it’s sounding like more kitchen than theater, which means Zach might actually have some good resources to build on. “At this point I think I’m most curious about what kind of office and workspace there is.”

“There’s the real question.” He hums in agreement. “That and what kind of seats are in the theatre.”

“From the way the manager was talking, it sounded like tables.” You’re hoping for tables. Praying for tables. But the key is that they have to be big enough tables to eat at.

“And when we have a chance to remodel the way we want, would you want booths?” He asks curiously.

“Personally, I’d love a mix.” The dream has been building in your head for a few days now and it’s really starting to take shape. “Old school supper club with a floor show style.” You grin sheepishly. “I used to watch White Christmas all the time when I was a kid and I dreamed of getting to perform at Novello’s.”

“Exclusive booths and open tables?” He asks, trying to recall the movie.

“Exactly.” The smile on your face goes a bit dreamy. “And plenty of space to dance.”

“A bigger dance floor than on the cruise ship?” He asks playfully. The dance floor in the club had been a moderate size, but nothing grand.

“Maybe.” The two of you dance around each other now, sidestepping around the little kitchen as he washed the dishes and you put things away. “However big we can manage, really.”

“We will make it happen.” He reaches for your waist and presses his lips to yours. “Our dreams baby.”

“They’re starting a hell of a lot sooner than we thought.” And in some ways, being thrown into the deep end of the pool to sink or swim is going to be incredibly exciting.

“Shit.” He snorts, pulling you close and pressing his forehead against yours. “My real dream came true the day I discovered you were my soulmate.”

“I love you too.” You grin and hug him closer, holding on to every good breath. Every moment is good with Zach and you refuse to let go.

Zach leans back and gazes into your eyes. He has come so far. Learned tough lessons and overcome adversity that might completely overwhelm someone. For some time, he had let his own inner demons take over. Until Justin had taken a second look at him, believed in him. Until Toby had taken a chance on him. Given him a passion to redirect his emotions. Until you had loved him. Given him unwavering love and support. He can only hope that he makes you happy a fraction what you make him feel. Hopes that you will always be proud to carry his name. So many nights, he has stared up at the stars, either on that park bench when he had nothing or leaning against the railing of the cruise ship, and wondered what the future could possibly hold for him.

Now, now he knows that his future is you.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[octuscle]

Dude, I've been edging every day for weeks now, and I love how full my balls feel and how wild all that extra stimulation drives me. It feels so good to be so full of cum...

I wish I came even more! I wish my needy cock would drool so much precum that I need to wear condoms to keep from soaking my pants at work... I wish that my balls would produce so much that I can feel them gurgling and sloshing like water balloons...

Welcome to the NNN, bro! I can understand you, having as much pressure on your balls as on your bladder after a decent bender with your pals just makes you fucking horny.

As good as the idea with the condom was, unfortunately you forgot it. And now it actually looks like you've pissed your pants. Your underpants are completely encrusted with the sticky stuff. And thanks to your bursting balls, you can't concentrate at all. All you can think about is sex. Hard, male sex. And then you shout "Damn, I'm so horny, I could fuck a vase of flowers" in the middle of the meeting. Your colleagues look irritated, your boss asks you outside for a quick chat in private and suspends you for the rest of the day. Thank God, you couldn't stand being around people any longer. You would even have banged that fat, unsympathetic fellow from Internal Audit if you had been in the same room for much longer. Before you leave the building, at least take a piss. Flush the precum out of your dick. And put some toilet paper in your underpants to soak it up.

Fuck, there's so much manhood building up in your balls… It's coming out of your cock as precum. But you also start to sweat it out. And with the sweat you fertilize your fur. The bushes under your armpits grow. The bush around your dick grows. And your dick is getting longer and longer. And your face, still clean-shaven this morning, is showing a veritable three-day beard. And the damp patch on your pants looks forbidden. If you already have the afternoon off involuntarily, you might as well get out of your clothes. And get yourself something new. There's a sportswear and workwear store just around the corner… Maybe you'll find something there…

A jockstrap won't do much good. But the synthetic material will at least dry quickly. Just like the nylon sports pants. You asked the store assistant to lend you a pair of scissors. You cut open the trouser pockets with them. That way you can get to your cock and balls better. Not at all to play around with you. But this way you can spread the precum and massage it into your skin and hair. Shit, the thought makes even more precum flow. It's a vicious circle. You look in the mirror. That makes it even worse. The soft office boy has turned into a pithy chav. Your hands are already sticky. You rub them on your old clothes and stuff them in a garbage can.

Don't wank, don't wank. You try to think of things that are a complete turn-off. But then you see some guy walk past you and your balls push out another gush of precum. Not wanking… But sex is not forbidden. So if someone were to suck you off now… That would be okay… The guy coming towards you looks at your pants for a long time, where you're playing with your balls, and then deep into your eyes. You walk past each other and both turn around again. And while you maintain eye contact, you turn into the side alley. As expected, you don't have to wait long and your fellow follows you.

Thank goodness. You wouldn't have lasted a second longer. The guy gets down on his knees and you push your waistband down. Your cock pops out and pulls up a fat slimy strip of precum. The fellow's saliva runs out of the corner of his mouth. The poor bastard has no idea what's about to happen to him. An explosion is brewing in your balls that you will both remember for a long time to come. Enjoy!

Found the pic with you playing with your sticky balls @milankotowyc

[age-of-play-i-say]

Wetted Girl Walking

"Come on, sweetie!" Momma beckons me brightly, waiting for me to catch up to her cart.

I wince and shuffle a bit faster, my step uneven and timid. I want Momma to praise my behavior at the store but it's getting harder and harder to focus.

My nipples press against my camisole and I shiver in the refrigerated section, keeping my thighs pressed together under my flouncy dress as I catch up to her. I race flat-footed to her side and she pulls me in for a squeeze.

"I'm sorry if the weekly shop is a bit long, Baby." Momma makes a pouty face at me, thinking my darkening disposition must be due to boredom or overstimulation. Either are equally likely, but unfortunately it's neither.

Momma's hand snakes down my back and discreetly pats against my pull-up. I redden and turn my face from her. With her other hand, she turns my cheek back to her and whispers,

"Well at least we know it's not that this time."

I can't speak.

Little does Momma know, it absolutely is that this time. When Momma told me our plans for the day, an outing to the park, then the grocery store and Starbucks, she showed me my new pull ups.

These will be perfect, sweetie. No one will know you have it on under your dresses, and that way little leaks won't ruin your nice afternoon!

That may have been true, but Momma laid me down to change right then and there. I didn't have a chance to go potty first. And I must have been pretty close to needing it, because I was already dribbling by the time we made it to the park.

After all, parks with Momma make me feel so loved and cared for. I felt too little to pay attention to potties. I keep feeling little gushes and spurts in my pull up while I giggle about it but not fully emptying my little bladder. Then Momma changes plans, and we swing by Starbucks first.

My little pink drink is gone by the time we get to the store, and when I get up out of my carseat to go in . . .I see a little wet spot on the seat.

I know my pull up can't hold anymore. But neither can I.

I'm close to tears as Momma releases me from her side, bladder squeezing and quivering at the reminder.

"Aw, sweetie, you've been such a good girl all day today. What's wrong?"

I cast my gaze down to my dancing feet and mutter,

"g-gotta potty."

Momma looks puzzled.

"Baby, you're protected, remember? You can do your potties right here!" she whispers.

I whine and my bladder spasms a little and I squirm to reach down and hold it. Momma grabs my hand.

"No need to be shy, sweetie, just start letting go when you're ready." She looks around. "Besides, we're just about ready to check out and then we'll head home and I'll get you all dry and changed. Just make your potties slowly, that's my good girl."

I whimper and nod, unable to speak, let alone tell Momma how naughty I've already been and how much I can't go right here. But she's right, we're heading up to the check out now. I can do this, I can be a big girl for Momma, right?

I'm shaking in the checkout, sweating under my mask, arms crossed and shifting side to side. My abdomen feels strained and it feels heavy, hot and horrible inside. I bite my lip to keep from whimpering.

I gasp silently when Momma finished at the pin pad and steer us towards the door. I feel my peehole twitch and surge and I don't wait.

I break for the door, running and starting to cry, beyond caring what other people think. I tear into the parking lot, making a beeline for our minivan. I feel wetness begin to seep through but I don't stop until the vehicle is blocking the view of the storefront.

Momma, clued into something being very wrong, hustles with the cart after me. She catches up quickly, not being on the verge of and accident and peers around the corner with our bagged cart.

"Sweetie, what on EARTH has gotten into y--" Seeing me, she braces the cart against the van, providing more cover, "ohh, my Baby," she coos gently, her tone softening to soothe, understanding completely.

I squat before her pitying gaze, piddling and sobbing full-force on the hot blacktop parking lot, soggy pull-up laying haphazardly near the hissing stream.

Momma knows the truth now, that I'm a baby who can't be trusted not to pee herself on a short afternoon out of the house. I whimper and my parts pulse confusingly. I feel my bladder twinge painfully and my body continues it flood. A shiver rips through me and my stream arcs forward while my clitty pulses.

Momma snaps into action, reaching over me to unlock and open the driver's side door and swinging it open to create a third side to my makeshift privacy screen. Then she reaches into her purse and slaps something crinkly on the seat.

Next think I know, she's hauling me by my armpits, still peeing, to sit on the driver's side, my legs dangling out the open side. I lift my hips to try to protest, but the padding underneath me crinkles. I set my hips down and shiver again as my clitty rubs the steadily soaking diaper underneath my bare butt. Momma is still moving, arranging my dress for modesty and throwing the soaked pullup into an emptied shopping bag and tying it off.

Once that's handled and we're not longer in indecent exposure territory, Momma gives me a hug, leaning into the open door and wrapping her arms around me while I'm still making potties. She takes a deep breath and squeezes me tightly, helping me empty out completely.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Momma murmurs while rubbing my back.

I can't answer, finally feeling the relief I've craved for hours. All I can do is shiver and moan. I buck my hips, aching but no longer heavy.

"You have been so good for me, baby." I let out a choked noise of disbelief, clit stiffening into my mess below. Momma doesn't let me interject.

"You have! You didn't have an accident in the store, even though you told me you needed potties! I'm so sorry that Momma didn't hear you baby, that must have been so scary for you!" I sob quietly for a few moments. It was scary for me.

It means the world to me that Momma apologizes, and always tries to do right by me. I sniffle and bury my head in her neck, yelping then reddening aas the wet diaper drags across my sticky parts.

"Oh, don't worry Baby, Momma feels the same," she takes one of my limp hands and presses it to the front of her skirt where she stands at attention underneath. I wiggle on the open diaper, tears banished. She chuckles lightly and pulls back.

"Let me load up the groceries and then we'll get going." I whine and turn to hop down and help.

"Oh no, no little one, you're too little to help. You stay here and make quiet, secret humpies in your mess. Momma is sooo going to make this up to you when we get home."

She chuckles to herself as she hustles around to the trunk, double checking to make sure their privacy has been maintained. She loads up while her little one churns their hips to produce breathy little moans she can barely hear over the engine.

[alyssaswrld999]

I'm Crowley and Your Mine Understand / Crowley x Reader (Supernatural)

Story prompt: Y/n has been Crowleys girl for a long time. Until one day Y/n had enough and decided to leave cut and dry away from Crowley. He didn't like that very much and has been on the hunt for his girl ever since.

------------------------------------------------------Romance is complicated and it's never easy. Whoever says the opposite of that is completely lost their mind. Nothings ever gonna be perfect especially this story. Especially this lifestyle I live through every single day.

First life seemed simple enough really. Living in an apartment and having a decent paying job. Then to the night that my whole life changed by meeting Sam and Dean Winchester. I never knew the things that went bump in the night were even real. I always thought they were myths.

Unfortunately that changed and ever since that night I've been close to Dean and Sam. They taught me how to deal with the Supernatural creatures and how to survive as a hunter. Then one day I met Crowley.

Crowley the King of Hell

Lucky me huh?

After that it ended up that me and Crowley got along and never had a problem with one another. It eventually led to me being Crowleys girl and I couldn't refuse that now could I?

Well until that specific night that I finally decided I was wanting to be on my own for awhile. I had to much pressure on my shoulders and I needed out. So I left Crowley and I just went MIA.

I made my way to the bunker that Sam and Dean lived in and they agreed to let me stay with them as long as they needed and I was happy.

"Thank you both again for letting me stay here" I said. Dean and Sam nodded their heads and offered me a beer. I happily accepted the beer and that night we just enjoyed eachothers company.

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

Eventually after that night Crowley informed me that he was looking for me. I didn't want Sam and Dean to be in danger so I left. They would call and check in to make sure I'm okay and I would update them every other day.

It's been ten months since I've last seen them in person and I miss them. But with Crowley following me everywhere I didn't want them to get hurt because of me. Right now I am in New York and living the life in the big city.

I was in the mood for a drink so I found a decent bar and now I'm here sitting on a bar stool and drinking a glass of whiskey to keep my hopes up. As I was sitting there minding my business I felt someone looking at me. Ever since my first hunt with Sam and Dean I always have this feeling when a demons near me and I got that exact feeling just now.

I pay for my drink and I make my way out of the bar and towards my car. I felt that feeling again and I turned around. When I turned around my heart stopped and I knew I was screwed.

"Lovely to see you Y/n" Crowely said. I froze and I was speechless. "Oh what cat got your tongue" Crowely added. I make a fake smile and I shook my head. "No, no not at all" I said.

Crowely chuckled and then took a step towards me. "I find it very interesting that you decided to have me run after you with this little goose chase of yours" Crowley said.

Running from Crowley wasn't really easy especially when he has eyes everywhere and well it's hard to kill millions of demons at once. I wasn't really surprised he found me though.

"I needed space so I left" I replied. Crowley raised his eyebrows and nodded at me. "Space? You needed space so you left out of the blue just like that" Crowley said.

I nodded my head and I lean against my car. Crowely nodded and then raised his hand up. "Well now that I found you the chase is over little mouse" Crowley said as he snapped his fingers.

After Crowley snapped his fingers the whole surrondings changed. I looked around and seen we were in Hell and in his thrown room. "Great" I mumbled. Crowley smirked and then put his hand down.

"Now I know why I left even more" I mumbled. Crowley raised his eyebrows and smirked. "What was that love?" Crowley asked. I look at him and I fake smile. Crowley sits down on his thrown and looks at me. "Little birdie told me that you were also living with the Winchesters during you being what's the word? MIA!" Crowely said.

I scoff and then shake my head at Crowley. "And then I left because I didn't want them being targeted by your demons" I said. Crowley nodded his head and then sighed. "Come here love" Crowley said motioning towards him.

I slowly walk towards Crowely and then when I got in front of him I stand still. I loved Crowely don't get me wrong it's just being in Hell all the time made me feel like a prisoner. It just got lonely considering Crowley was always busy and I wanted to go hunt and everything like I normally do.

Crowley gently put some of my hair behind my ear and then rubbed my face. "Please don't leave me again" Crowley whispered. I looked at Crowley and I was shocked. When someone didn't listen to him they would be punished. Instead of punishing me he was being gentle with me.

I hold onto his hand that was rubbing my face and I gave him a sad smile. "I won't I promise" I whispered. Crowley smirked at me and then pulled me onto his lap. "Crowley..." I said. Crowely looked at me with his eyebrows raised. "Yes love?" Crowley responded.

I look at him and I felt like I wanted to cry. I didn't mean to hurt Crowley in anyway because well I'm his and he's mine. "Are we okay?" I asked. Crowley looked at me and tilted his head.

"Of course we are Y/n. I know I might not be the easiest to live with but I love you and your my girl." Crowley answered. I smile and then nod my head at him. Before I knew it Crowley pulled me into a kiss and I kissed him back.

After that kiss I knew we were gonna be okay

[flock-talk]

I was just wondering if you could tell me more about Newt's food allergy: what his symptoms were specifically, why you suspected an allergy, how his diet change has improved his symptoms, and what diet you ultimately settled on? I saw in a video that you were feeding Tops to avoid the soy he is allergic to, but that you still needed to figure out how to supplement it with enough vitamin D, which it doesn't have.

I ask because I also have a maroon bellied conure, and he just recently started plucking his down feathers for reasons I can't explain (good diet of mainly harrisons and veggies, big 6ft long by 2ft wide cage with various toys, gets daily oit of cage time and attention, and saw an avian vet who said he's perfectly healthy). He has also been producing an unexplained (two avian vets found nothing wrong) sniffling noise off and on (accompanied by sneezes occasionally) that doesn't seem like a vocalization or mimicry attempt.

A couple people on a parrot discord suggested that it could be a food allergy and pointed out that your mbc also had a plucking (and sneezing) issue that ended up being due to a food allergy. The fact that the only internet-famous member of his species just happens to have had similar issues is making me strongly consider that the causes may also be similar, so I am interested in hearing more about the situation and how you have been dealing with it.

Thanks!

Sorry your bean is going through it! For Newt he had on and off plucking as well as massive dry sneeze fits

Unfortunately parrot allergies are so understudied that it doesn’t seem anyone really knows what symptoms really are or aren’t indicative of it, no one seems to be exceptionally consistent and most symptoms that Could be allergies can also be 100 other things so it’s quite hard to A) get a vet to consider the allergy option and B) test for it

Food allergies are quite uncommon (or perhaps it’s just so understudied that many allergy cases are misreported) so it’s generally advised to rule out all other options first since they’re typically more likely (which sounds like you’ve already done!). Vets will go down the checklist, do a fecal and some bloodwork, take a good look in their nares and throat, might run a course of antibiotics just in case anything else is cropping up (allergies won’t usually suddenly get worse quite like a bacterial infection, yknow, so they’ll want to knock those options well out of the way before waiting for them to get worse)

I tried /everything/ including every (reputable) holistic route as well: adding bee pollen, decreasing protein, increasing humidity, precise temperatures, increasing omegas, everything that could potentially help to reduce dry skin or hormonal influences to address the plucking issue. And same for the sneezing - every recommended vet option, scoured my house clean, isolated him from anything that /might/ somehow be releasing fumes or mould I can’t see, humidity again, steam showers, nasal flushes, you name it

If you’ve tried everything else the current best way to determine if something is a food allergy is through an elimination diet. You essentially remove every single food item from the diet except the ones that are vital to life and are of a low likelihood to produce allergic reactions. (Common bird allergies are soy, wheat, floral pollens, and spirulina from what little I was able to dig up back when this was happening for us).

This means no treats, not a fleck of anything outside of One low-allergen pellet (for some birds it may need to be a seed mix, if a single pellet is still producing reactions) and low-allergen produce. I noticed changes within a couple of days but I’d say up to a week of complete elimination to confirm if there’s improvements within their symptoms or not. If their symptoms decrease but don’t cease entirely bring your findings to the vet for more support, wait more time to see if it decreases more, or thoroughly evaluate the current ingredients to determine if something else might be less irritating for them. If their symptoms cease/ are quite low you can add a new food in, wait a week, and see how they respond. If there’s a consistent spike in symptoms that’s probably an allergen, if there’s no change the food is likely safe. Keep adding foods over time until you’ve manifested your own list of foods that aggravate symptoms or improve them.

You can bring that list to your vet who might be able to simplify it for you (for example they might have a wacky long list that makes no sense but in reality all the foods have a common genus, or common pesticide usage, or naturally occurring pesticide produced by the plant they could be reacting to, the vet team might be able to help it make more sense). Or maybe you get lucky and have only a couple of allergens you can easily track and remove from the diet

In Newts case it was soy, which seems to be quite the common parrot allergy to have that potentially stems from the fact that soy is toxic to birds if not properly cooked/ processed. I imagine some birds are just more sensitive to that so what counts as “properly cooked” just isn’t proper enough for them. But again. No studies on parrot allergies to really confirm that theory with

For us I was able to remove any pellets that had Soy by using TOPs pellets during the elimination diet. Once he was stable I was able to very gradually introduce pellets that had less soybean overall or used more thoroughly processed soy- caitec oven fresh bites.

But during the recovery phase he would react very strongly (lots of sneezing) if he was fed anything by Harrison’s (which uses whole toasted soybeans, instead of the more processed soybean meal that caitec uses - meal is the byproduct of soybean oil collection so the meal is not only heated and baked but has less oils present than the whole soybean would). I have a post on here during the process where I offered him literally 10 of those micro tiny pellets Harrison’s makes that all together would be the size of Newts eye and within minutes of eating them he was sneezing up a storm. Now, nearly a year after this, I’m able to offer him two Harrison’s pepper adult lifetime pellets per day without issue.

For us it seems like the break from those allergen heavy foods gave his body what it needed to calm down and be able to tolerate smaller doses without issue

Being able to have those other pellets in combination is really what’s helping us fill that vit D gap, if I wasn’t able to add them back in I would be working with the vet team and getting him on a D3 supplement most likely as well as picking every produce option high in D as possible