#i think ive had this as a wip for the last month but then i just speedran it the last two days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zialltops · 4 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: Howdy Ya’ll! The song for this chapter is Shake the Frost by Tyler Childers! Im not going to lie, after three chapters writing from Joels POV, this chapter was hard to get into at first. Ive always had a vision for the different ways they perceive each other and it was realllly fun to paint two different pictures of the same people from each others POV. So without further ado, the moment we’ve alllll been waiting for, I give you honeys POV.

Masterlink

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4. Shake The Frost

Your life in a nutshell has been…uneventful. Your parents had you into their late thirties, you were their last shot at the child they had always wanted and that was a lot to live up to, being the only surviving member of your family when they are gone and the sole proprietor of the Rising Sun Ranch. It was a lot for one awkward, clumsy girl to take on, but you packed up your bags and moved to the city for just long enough to get a real education in keeping your family's dream alive. When you left this place, you had twenty dollars and a full tank of gas. You had horrible hormonal acne, the same damn braces you’ve had for the past six years and you were the furthest thing from desirable a person could ever get.

You were never very popular in school, but considering your graduating class was a whole eight people, you understood why. Everyone around these parts kept to themselves, passed judgment too quickly and all they ever saw in you was an inelegant, unskilled, ugly little duckling.

Four years away earned you a new outlook on life, the discovery of skincare and a little bit of confidence in yourself, but not nearly enough to hoof it in this cruel world. That's why you found so much comfort in the thought of running home, as much as you would miss your friends from college. Here you weren’t gangly and clueless—you could just be yourself.

Yourself with just…a little bit of alteration. Because two years ago, your mom called you to tell you about the new ranch hands that started working, how much weight it took off their plate. A few weeks later, she told you as much about them as she could, about Joel who was charming and gruff. Tommy, who was kind of strange but a nice boy, how Joel takes care of him and watches out for him. A month after that, your mother calls to tell you how much of a gentleman he is.

Two months later, you call your mom and tell her about the date that stood you up and she tells you how handsome Joel is, how kind his eyes are and how she thinks you would really like him, how much you would hit it off and she wished you’d find someone a little more like that—someone who could appreciate you.

Two years pass the same way, your mom calls you all the time just to talk about Joel and Tommy—you understand it's the most exciting thing that's happened around the ranch in the last twenty years, but the more you talk about it with her, the more you build up this impossible dream about a man you’ve never even laid eyes on. You daydream about going home and meeting him, hitting it off like two old flames. You imagine his eyes in the middle of class and miss half your lecture, you think about the way his voice sounds the few times you accidentally overheard him in the background of your moms calls.

Your best friend and roommate, Melly, tells you that's you’re delusional to make up fake scenarios in your head about a relationship you don’t have with a man you’ve never met, but you’ve already hyper focused on it long before that conversation happens, so getting it out of your head is already out the window by then.

All that build up, all the imaginary things you thought up, the way you’d meet—what you would say to him to catch his attention from the moment he sets eyes on you. All of it is for nothing, because he’s not prince charming like you’d imagined, he’s rude and he left you in the fucking snow to die, when you’d spent so long falling in love with a man that didn’t exist. He avoids you like the plague, like it hurts him to be in the same room with you, thinks you’re this stuck up too good city girl, when you’d been so proud to have your shit together. You’d been so fucking excited to get home and finally put a face to two years worth of ghost like fantasies of a person you didn’t know.

And god did it make you so angry at him, when you’d spent so long wanting to meet him, and he was nothing like you’d expected him to be. What is it about you that repulses him? Every time you leave anything exposed, he’s running away with his tail tucked. You look at him from across the dinner table and he takes his food and leaves. Sometimes you can't help the way your anger gets the best of you, starting arguments just so he’ll talk to you, trying to do things that might impress him even though he thinks you’re the most incapable person in the whole world, apparently.

You help your mom with dinner because you remember her telling you that her chili was Joel’s favorite, so you spent half of the afternoon making it, maybe then you could both move on—something, anything. You watch him from the fridge while he fills his bowl with Tommy and they head off to the dining room. By the time you’ve made your own bowl, hatching a plan to tell him you made this, his spot sits empty and his food is untouched for the rest of the evening.

That night, your dad shows you the statement from the bank, the mortgage is two months behind and they don’t have two nickels to rub together. You cry at the kitchen table for an hour, wondering what you did in a past life to struggle so badly in this one. Of course Joel would catch you there, tear stained cheeks and a desperate desire to curl into that broad chest and sob.

He hightails it out of the house before the real water works come down.

Theres a ache in your chest that doesn’t leave you for days—when you spot him in the stable on Christmas eve, it pounds in your chest worse than ever, it hurts so fucking bad to look at him in that brown coat, that long curly hair and scruffy beard. You want to run out the door across the yard and jump into those strong arms, have him twirl you around in the snowfall and kiss you silly. But that's not plausible, so you turn away from the window and make yourself some hot cocoa to starve off the cold, eating you up from the inside.

On Christmas morning, you watch him shovel from the window of your bedroom, hiding behind the curtain while you think about how much he hates to be around you, he must think you’re so unpleasant and hard to look at, because he never even meets your eyes. It bubbles up so much emotion, you cry angry tears before you can make it out of your room. You wash your face in the bathroom to rid yourself of the evidence and make your way down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the steps when you spot him at the bottom, smiling at himself in the vanity mirror, wearing a goddamned cowboy hat like all your wild fantasies about slipping his hat on your head and riding him until he’s a mumbling mess. You would have changed if you knew he was here—would have put on some clothes so he doesn’t go running out on you again. He takes one look up the stairs at you and your brain goes fuzzy and angry, how dare he look so good when you know you can’t touch, how dare he flaunt it right in your face just to take it away again. Who does he think he is, smiling at you like that when he abandoned the dinner you’d made him at the table the night before?

He tells you Merry Christmas and you want to sock him in the mouth.

You chase him off all on your own this time and the guilt eats you up when you watch him work from the window. He doesn’t stop for a second, just keeps going and going and going while you sit on the couch and listen to Tommy’s insufferable rambling about things you don’t care about. He doesn’t come to dinner, so you make him a plate in the kitchen when your mom comes in behind you. “What are you doing, dear?” You wrap tin foil over the hefty plate and give her a look. “I thought I should bring him dinner…no one deserves to be hungry on christmas.”

Your mom squeezes your shoulder and smiles brightly, waves you off when you head out into the storm with his dinner in your hand.

When you meet him on the porch, sleepy look in his eyes with messy hair, you almost invite yourself inside—hardly fighting off the urge to set that plate down and offer yourself for his Christmas dinner instead.

You're halfway thankful for the half mile walk tugging a one ton heifer behind you, at least this way the cold wills away the throbbing between your legs.

That night, you wrap two fingers in the necklace chain, burry your face in the pillows while you fuck yourself on three fingers wishing they were the man sleeping on your couch instead of your own. You try not to whimper his name when you cum, but it slips right out with a rush of air.

Wanting him—is absolutely killing you.

You want to call it a turning point, finally he can see you as capable of something. By the end of the following two weeks, he’s right back to the way he acted before, but it’s like it’s worse somehow. You come down the stairs with a chipper smile in your favorite pair of Levi’s one morning and he nearly falls out of his chair trying to get away from you. You show up in the stable with your old white straw hat on and he hides in the bathroom for a half hour until you leave, like he’s repulsed by you, like he can’t stand to be around you. Is it something you’re doing? Something you’re wearing? He gets so uncomfortable when you have any skin exposed, you can tell based on the way his eyes will bounce to you then away in a hurry, trying to find something—anything else to keep himself busy. Is it because you're his boss's daughter? Because you’re ugly? Because you’re too young and too inexperienced?

By the end of January, you’ve successfully chased him back to his cabin in the evenings unless you aren’t in attendance. He’s avoiding you again, but at least now you have Tommy, who you would consider a friend, a friend who flirts with you too damn much and drinks way too much alcohol. He’s also lazy and doesn’t take much initiative, Joel does most of the work around here, you’ve noticed. But Tommy listens to you when you talk and he doesn’t run away from you any time you try to make conversation.

This morning, you were in the kitchen when Joel came in, cowboy hat and wranglers that hugged his ass. You walked out of the kitchen in an apron with a bowl of preserved raspberries ready to can. “Mornin’, Joel.” You greeted him with a smile and picked the spoon up out of the bowl. “Want to try some? I’m making jam.” You were about to wash the spoon anyways.

“Uh, no, thank you—I ate this morning.” You shrug and lick the spoon clean with one stripe. Five seconds later, Joel is out the front door with a hurried step, like he can't wait to get away from you. Did your breath stink? Was there something on your face, in your tone? By the time Joel is gone, Tommy comes in like there's a rotating door on the house, constantly filtering out one Miller for another.

“He’s in a hurry.” Tommy laughs, pointing behind him with his thumb. “I think I said something.” You roll your eyes at him and finish off the spoon. “Dang girl, how come you don’t ever lick me like that?” It's a light hearted joke, you know that, but you still slug him in the arm for good measure. “Oh, fuck off, Tommy.” You make your way back to the kitchen to can up the preserves and he follows right behind you. “So I was thinking, Joel is heading into town this mornin’, what do you say we scrounge up some change and grab a bottle of something strong?” You used to drink heavily when you were in college, lots of parties and Friday nights out with friends, but now it's closer to once a month if you’re lucky and you can't remember the last time you were good and drunk. “You know what, lets do it. But you have to ask him.” Tommy makes a pained face and shakes his head. “No, I asked last time—it’s your turn.”

“He’s already pissed at me for no reason, and I don’t even know where he is!” Tommy laughs at you and takes the bowl from your hands. “And besides, I have to pee—why can't you go?”

He pulls the jars out and starts to fill them. “Go ask him and then go pee—I saw him go into the stable.” You huff dramatically and turn on your heel, removing your apron, trying to get rid of your nerves as you head towards the door. What’s he going to do, shout at you? Get angry? Say no? You can handle all of that, you’ve handled it up until now.

When you reach the barn, you search around the stalls with no sign of Joel. Wherever he is, he’s long gone. Whatever you did to him, it was enough to send him running all over again. For the millionth time, you find yourself wishing you could just read his mind, know what it is about you that has him running for the hills any time to approach him.

You pet a few muzzles on your way towards the door, wishing it was spring already so you could ride like you’ve longed to do for the last four years. There's less of a chill today, there hasn’t been a storm in a week, but that’s going to change soon. You could stay out here until Joel shows up, but christ do you need to pee right now, so you take a quick detour to the small bathroom in the corner of the barn. The door doesn’t have a working latch, so it pushes open easily.

You just needed to pee, that's it—just needed to pee but it’s too late by the time the artificial light inside mixes with the sunlight filtering into the barn. Lent over the sink with his hand pressed to the mirror, his other on his cock, stands Joel—his balled up fist working up and back down, those huge hands that look tiny on his dick—holy shit, it’s massive, bigger than you’ve ever seen in real life, bigger than most exaggerated porn videos you’ve watched—he could probably fit both hands around that thing, has to be at least ten inches of just Joel. He must hear your tight gasp, because his hand stills and he whips his head around to look at you, his face flushed with shock and shame. You step away quickly and the door slams shut behind you.

You aren’t sure what it is bubbling up inside of you—anxiety, desire, a bit of curiosity and a whole lot of confusion. You saw him not five minutes ago and he was fine, but now you can hear him scrambling in the bathroom across from where your feet have glued themselves to the floor.

“Fuck! Fuck, Honey, hold on.”

Joel Miller is the most hung man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s also the most annoying and hard headed—but all of that flies straight to the back of your mind when he pulls the small door open, having stuffed himself back in his jeans, jesus christ it goes half way down his leg, how does he have any room in there? His chest is absolutely heaving and his face is beat red from embarrassment. “I…I’m sorry, I just needed to use the bathroom.”

His hand reaches down and you follow the movement, how he stuffs it into his pants and adjusts himself. “I can explain—“ you shake your head quickly, eyes bouncing back up to meet his. Fuck, he looks like he’s going to cry right now. “Please spare me the details, I should have…knocked, that's my fault.” What was he doing in the first place? He ran away from you because…because he needed to jerk off? Is that where he’s been going every time he runs away from you?

Did you make him do that? But no—of course not, because Joel hates you, hates you enough to actively avoid you even after buying you the same damn necklace you clutch every night when you sink your hand between your thighs, bite your pillow and attempt to muffle his name on your lips.

Joel doesn’t want you, when you’ve been thrown around every corner trying to hang on to him. He left you in that damn snow and all your mind could think about was how sharp his jaw was, how big his hands were, how angry you were that he robbed you of your fantasy of him.

“I just—I…don’t know what came over me, I didn’t mean for you to see that.” Well of course he didn’t mean for you to see that. “Yeah, no I assumed—I’m the last person you want seeing you—like that. I’m sorry, again.” There's something in his eyes, a deep sorrow woven into his features. “How…how much did you see?”

God, does he really have to go there, when your thighs are pressed as tightly together as you can get them, when heat is pooling between your thighs and you have the urge to run up stairs and lock your door behind you. You reach up for your necklace out of instinct, run your fingers along the chain for an absent sensory input, thinking about the way it feels in your hand when you clutch it for dear life.

“I mean—about all ten inches, I’d say.” Its an easy joke you're hoping will ease the stress of the encounter, but Joel leans back against the walk and his head flops against the wood, eyes closing tight. You take the opportunity to drink your fill, let your eyes really roam over the softening bulge in his jeans. “Nine and a half—I…It’s nothing to…boast about or anything like that. I try not to…let anyone see that.”

See that? The biggest dick you’ve ever laid eyes on? He’s just walking around, hiding it from the world? “Why?” You don’t mean to ask, but how could Joel just walk around all day with a third fucking leg and not tell anyone about it?

“It’s embarrassin’. No one wants anything to do with that, nobody wants to deal with what it entails—I sure as hell don’t. Look, can we please just—please forget this happened? Don’t…tell anyone, please.”

Don’t tell anyone? You can't keep this to yourself? Joel miller, every daydream and fantasy you’ve had for the last two years—you can’t just keep that in if you tried—you have to tell someone. “Yeah, no of course not. This was traumatizing enough for both of us.”

His face drops further and he turns himself away, running his hand over his face—the same hand he just had on his dick—oh, fuck, you have to get out of here before you offer to finish him off, just to see how heavy it would feel in your hands, your mouth, your pussy—“I gotta go—“ you start to head for the door, but you remember why you came in the barn in the first place. “Can me and Tommy come with you to town later?”

He only turns for a moment to gaze at you. His eyes look shinny, his lip is drawn between his teeth because its shaking. Had you really embarrassed him that much?

When he speaks, his voice is tight and wobbly. “Yeah, that's fine.”

You leave as quickly as you came, already pulling out your phone and pulling up your best friend's number. When you get into the house, you make a bee-line for your room, slamming the door behind you while the call goes through. When she picks up on the other end, you’re already rambling. “Girl—hold on, I can't hear you. You’re talking too fast, slow down.”

You take a deep breath, clutch your necklace and try to calm yourself down. “I just walked in on Joel—it was an accident, but dude—dude it was huge.” There's a sharp gasp and a laugh on the other end of the phone. “Wait like, you walked in on him and someone?”

“No—I walked in on him jerkin’ off in the bathroom, he…ran away from me again this morning and Tommy came in right after, asked me to ask Joel if we could go to town with him and when I went to look for him, he was in the bathroom with his hand on literally the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” Melly, on the other end, is laughing her ass off at you, trying her best not to snort at your bad luck. “This isn’t funny! He was so embarrassed, Mel—he said he doesn’t show it to people!”

She huffs on the other end of the phone. “Then how does he fuck anyone?”

And—well… “I never thought about that. Maybe he just…doesn’t? He seemed so ashamed, I don’t know what on earth there is to be ashamed of.” Ashamed of being blessed? Ashamed you walked in on him? Maybe it was because it’s you and you’re the last person he wants seeing him naked.

“Alright, let me get this straight—he ran away from you and five minutes later you found him beating his meat in the bathroom?” For lack of better words, well, yeah.

“Yes—that’s basically what happened, but it was more like three minutes? Because I wasn't far behind him.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening, then Melly clears her throat. “Have you considered the idea that he runs away from you because you turn him on?”

You? You turn him on? You with your awkward posture and too gangly features? You can't even turn a car on half the time, let alone a grown man like Joel Miller. “Not a chance—he hates me, Mel, we’ve been over this.”

“You’ve been over this—you say he hates you all the time when maybe this whole time he thinks its you that hates him.” But that can't be true, because Joel can’t stand being around you. He hated you from the moment he saw you, hated your stupid fucking shoes you don’t wear anymore, hates that you went to college and lived in a big city and don’t let people walk on you. He hates you because you wanted to look pretty for him and he told you to crawl back to whatever place you came from, not even knowing that place was filled with longing to meet him. “No, you have to see it for yourself. You’re still coming down here for my birthday, right?” It’s in the middle of February, when the snow starts to subside.

She tells you that she is, but that she has to get back to work, so you hang up the phone and let yourself sink into the mattress. Its a lot to process—Joel running away from you to…masterbate, catching him in the act—that dick, Christ, even if you want to fuck him, you aren’t even sure if you’d be able to take him. A little deep dive into the internet tells you that you absolutely can—if you work up to it. With ample time and stretching, you’d be able to work up to that, and should it ever happen, you want it to be easy for him, after all, he seemed so ashamed that you’d seen him like that. He said he doesn’t show people, so that must mean it’s been a while since he’s had sex. That in and of itself, makes your heart ache from him—no matter how much he pisses you off, no one deserves to have the ability to receive pleasure stripped from them for merely having a larger—uh, tool. It’s not his fault he was born that way.

A few wrong turns on amazon and you find a (within your budget) toy that's, you guessed it—nine and a half inches and by the looks of it, the same girth as Joel. There is no other option for you but to purchase it—express mail straight to your doorstep.

And even if you never stand a chance with a six-foot towering cowboy, you can at least pretend for the rest of your life. Maybe that will finally starve off your want, fill that void you’ve had for the last two years longing for a made up man and this version of Joel wearing his skin.

It’s a few more agonizing minutes of thinking about the way he’d looked at you in the mirror when you’d spotted him in that bathroom, before you can actually track back to the before, how into it he was—working himself over quickly with a rough calloused hand and his ragged pant.

Fuck it—you have time, lots of time—Joel is probably going to avoid you for half the day before he heads to town, that is—if he even tells you he’s leaving. So you do what you're best at, roll yourself over to bury your face in the pillow while you sink your hand past your waistband and get to work. Its easy to picture something still so fresh in your mind, the way his shoulders heaved when he drew in a breath, how he would probably feel in your hand, your mouth, you’ll have to practice that too, how he’d probably hold you down and tell you to take it. He’d probably be ravenous if he could get past the hatred part. How long has it been since he’s been inside of someone?

You sink your teeth into the pillow and try to retain the sharp whine in your throat, but when you picture his disdain for you morphing into desire, the way the two would clash together in the most impossible way—it’s easy to bring yourself right to the edge. Easy to let yourself drift into that full bodied bliss that shoots up your spine and blooms at the base of your skull. God, the things he would probably say—the filthy fucking words that were made for that accent—the way he’d call you—

“Honey?”

“Amph-“ your eyes shoot open but its too damn late, that twangy southern draw sounds so fucking good saying your name like that and it’s the final straw, deep shadows of your relief robbing the vision from your eyes as they roll back, hand stilling with just the faintest of muffled whimpers to follow it. Yeah—he’d say your name just like that—just like he did on the other side of your locked door while you get off to the sound of it.

Your first big draws of air when you start to come down are into the pillow, trying your best to stifle the ragged way your lungs fill with oxygen until you’ve caught back up with yourself.

“We’re headin’ out in a few, if you're comin’.”

You pull your hand away and jump off your bed, trying to fix your hair and pull yourself together. One glance in the mirror tells you that this is as good as its going to get. You pull the door open and he’s already trying to find anywhere to else to put his eyes than on you, on your tight workout leggings and crew neck sweater—you aren’t anything special and you just saw his dick a half hour ago, so you understand why he wouldn’t want to look. “I was just, uhm—doing a workout zoom with my friend, you ever done one of those?”

God, did you just say that out loud? A fucking workout zoom, its no wonder this man wants nothing to do with you. “A…zoom workout? No—I get my cardio in before the sun's up. Real fuckin’ weird world you come from.” He turns his body slightly, like he’s trying to make his way out of this conversation but he doesn’t quite know how, so you lead the way. “I’ll just get my shoes on and I’ll be right down.”

He turns back and this time he does look at you, but it's at your feet, then a swift bounce up to your eyes. “You’re wearing shoes.”

One glance down and what do you fucking know—you are wearing shoes—stupid fucking shoes you suddenly hate. You hate that you can't get a single thought through your head when it's swimming in dopamine and adrenaline. Hate that he’s taken up so much space in your brain you can't think straight anymore. “If you don’t want to go because you’re…uncomfortable, you don’t have to stall so that I’ll leave. You can say it.” He holds his chin up bravely, you have to give him props for that. Thirty minutes and he can still hold his head up with dignity when he feels like he needs to stand up to you, but does he have to do it so accusingly? When did you give him the impression that you wanted to stay behind? When you’d asked him if you could go not two minutes after seeing him white knuckling it in the bathroom? When he knocked on your door and talked you through an orgasm without even knowing?

“Why do you always do that?” You cross your arms and feel that attitude creeping up on you. “Do what? Spare myself the humiliation?” The humiliation like he’s not staring you down fresh off a mind boggling orgasm. “No, decide what I’m feeling for me—what the fuck gives you the right to make up my mind for me?”

This bastard, who can pull an argument out of you in an instant—when you’d just been thinking nice things about him. “I’m coming with. Tommy’s promise of hard booze is sounding better and better by the minute.”

He huffs at you and it's all you get for a response. You follow him down the stairs and out to the truck, Tommy is waiting down stairs with a confused look, but you shake your head at him and he tails behind you on the way out the door. Joel moves fast across the snow covered yard, climbing in the already running truck with a slam of the drivers door. “What’s his problem?” Tommy makes a face at you when you stop at the tailgate of the truck. “He’s not in a good mood.” Tommy nods his head and walks over to the passenger door. “Course he isn’t, why would he be?” There's a laugh and he opens the door for you, but he doesn’t get in first—he makes you sit beside Joel, with his knee bouncing and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He won't look at you, but you can tell he’s riddled with anxiety right now. When Tommy squeezes in beside you, you find yourself pressed up against Joel, from shoulder to his solid thigh.

The drive is uneventful because Joel turns on the radio and he doesn’t say anything. Not for the whole twenty five minute drive, Joel doesn’t make a sound, so you and Tommy sit in the uncomfortable silence and try to ignore the way his fingers tap and flex against the steering wheel. When you get into town, you give Tommy all the money you were able to scrounge up and he runs into the liquor store close to the feed store. You were going to sit in the truck and wait, but Joel leans against the door frame with his hands perched on the roof and his cowboy hat blocking the run from your eyes. “Since Tommy’s preoccupied, you’re gonna have to help me.”

Help him? You? “I have three hundred pounds of feed to load, unless you're afraid you’ll break a nail.” Does he have any idea how that works, that you don’t have long fake nails anymore like you did in college? “Well, I guess it's a good thing they are already busted then.”

Helping Joel load the truck means you get to watch him work, carrying two feed bags to your one, but his shoulders bulge when he lifts and you nearly have to cross your legs to push away the nagging thought. He probably looks so damn built under all those layers, beneath that Carhartt. By the time the truck is loaded, Tommy is back with a half gallon of bottom shelf whiskey that looks like a hangover just waiting to happen.

Joel doesn’t give the bottle a second look, but the ride home is just as quiet as the drive there.

It isn’t until later that night when you and Tommy crack open the bottle. It’s dark, but Joel is nowhere to be seen when Tommy makes a fire in the pit out front of the cabin. Your parents went to bed early and the last thing you wanted to do was keep them up, so you took the long walk to the cabin with a few blankets to keep you warm until the whiskey kicks in.

Thirty minutes of having your feet propped up by the fire while you pass the bottle back and forth and Joel finally comes into view, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he tries to walk straight past the two of you. “Come on man, can’t you join us? Sit by the fire with your brother?”

The older man shoots him a look, one you can't read but Tommy obviously does. “Come on, Joel—Tommy’s going to make me drink all of this by myself.” He steps onto the porch with his back turned, wiping the snow off his boots. “I don’t drink anymore.” Is the only response he gives. Like you hadn’t seen him drunk off his ass before.

Another hour passes before you see Joel again and by that time the half gallon is half empty, sitting between the two of you while you giggle and laugh about stupid humor Joel would probably huff at. Can someone remind you why it's the broody brother you want? Not the slightly asshole-ish one who knows how to take a joke? Tommy doesn’t exactly do it for you—not your type, no drive, no motivation—but he is Joel's brother, the closest thing you ever get to having the real thing.

You wonder if he’d fuck you like Joel would—they are brothers, so Tommy has to be just as well endowed at Joel, right?

Right on que, like he could hear you thinking about him, Joel comes out and stands behind your chairs. “Think you guys have had enough. Last thing I need is to be up all night because Tommy’s pukin’.”

He gives the emptying bottle a tap with his foot and you glance up at him. “Oh, come on, Joel—why are you always such a fun sucker? You just hate seeing people smile, is that it? Is it bad for maintaining your shitty mood?” Tommy laughs beside you and you ride off that chuckle, but not for long. “And here I thought alcohol would make you plaint, but I guess it just makes you more of a bitch.”

If your head wasn’t swimming in booze right now, you’d probably swing at him, but you aren’t coordinated enough for that right now, so you settle on a hard glare. “I don’t know man, I think I have a good idea of how she gets when she’s drunk.”

Joel's eyes shoot over to him like he already knows exactly where this is going. “Bet you get real feisty, huh? Whiskey always makes girls want it—get’s um horny.” When he talks, he’s looking straight at you—if Joel wasn’t standing right beside you, you probably couldn’t have the courage to hold his younger brother's gaze like that. You want it right now, god you do, but not from the brother that's asking.

“You’ve got no idea,” you tell him and Tommy smirks at you, then up at his brother who’s gone stiff. “Is it me or him? Because this one doesn’t look too willing to give you any kind of sugar.”

Joel downright growls at his brother. “Knock it the fuck off, Tommy—she’s a lady.” A lady that wants him to bend her in half and stuff her full right now—no matter how much it might hurt. “No she ain’t! A lady doesn’t drink half a bottle and want to fuck.”

There's a hard thud behind you and when you look at Tommy, he’s holding the back of his head where Joel smacked him. “I’m walkin’ her home.” He tells his brother, but doesn’t once ask what you want. It’s been too long, been way too long since someone touched you—and it might be the alcohol in your system or the desperation for a Miller that sends you down this path, but both directions lead you to the same destruction.

“Like fuck you are! You aren’t my dad, Joel—you don’t get to decide what I want all the time. If I want to drink half a bottle and fuck your brother, then you’re going to have to suck it up and listen through the damn wall.”

Joel’s look of anger quickly morphs into something you’ve never seen on Joel Miller—fear. Oh—yeah, you struck a nerve on that one. What does he think? You’re going to soil his baby brother? Does he really look down on you that much, that he’s afraid of you sinking your claws into Tommy? You don’t want Tommy, you want Joel, but you’ll never have that—so you grab Tommy by the hand, yank him up until he’s standing on equally wobbly feet before pulling him down to meet your mouth. He tastes like whiskey and it's nothing to write home about. There's no electricity, no real desire on your part. But you know you hit your mark when there's hard footsteps headed towards the house and a hard slam of the front door.

Tommy gets into it fast, his hands on your hips and his teeth nipping at your lips like he’s as desperate for you as you are for his brother. “Let’s go inside,” he hums and you agree—you’re already this far and you want to make Joel feel what you’ve felt for the past twos months, all this anger and bitterness, why the fuck doesn’t he want you like you want him.

“Do you think he’ll hear us, through the wall?” Tommy pulls away and makes a face of confusion. “Do you want him to?”

Do you? Want him to hear the way you could moan and gasp for him? The way you could beg him for more, deeper, harder? Absolutely. “Yeah—I want him to hear it.”

It's a rough and awkward tumble to his room, you fall against the wall and Tommy does his best to keep you up straight. The door beside Tommy’s room is closed and the light is off, but you can't hear anything inside.

You try not to think—try your hardest not to imagine Joel instead of his brother, but it's a futile attempt. All you can see right now is Joel with his cock in his hand lent over the bathroom sink and how much you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there. “Can I suck your dick?” Tommy groans from where he stands at the end of the bed, you propped against his pillows, both of you in the midst of discarding your clothes. You get down to your panties and underwear by the time Tommy is left in just his briefs. “Yeah-fuck yeah, you can.”

It’s good, it’s working for you—until he drops his underwear and you’re left…underwhelmed. “You aren’t as big as him?” If it wasn’t for the alcohol in your system, you probably wouldn’t have said it in the first place—but how could you not? He’s half the size of his brother, if you’re being generous. He’s still decent sized, you’ve had bigger, but you cant help the pang of disappointment that you won't be able to pretend just for now.

“I—no, wait you saw it?” You wince and Tommy pulls his boxers back up, suddenly the room is filled with something other than desire. “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to, but I just thought…you’re brothers and all.”

Tommy sighs, turns himself and sits down at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. “You don’t want to do this with me.” He says. “I didn’t say that—“ he shakes his head at you and turns enough to look at you. “You’re disappointed that my dick isn’t as big as his—you don’t want this with me. I don’t want to fuck you while you’re imagining my brother.”

Okay—ouch, that one stung. But you can't argue a point because you have no truth behind it even if you tried. You were going to imagine him—press your hands to the wall and imagine you were on the other side of it. “I’m sorry, Tommy…It’s not you, I promise…you’re a good friend and you’re a nice guy, I just…”

He smiles at you and it eases some of your anxiety. Tommy might not be Joel, but he is a good friend. “It’s okay, I can see it…Don’t think I could take somethin’ that's already his.” But you aren’t, his, after all. He doesn’t look at you like that, doesn’t want you—doesn’t want to touch you like this when he’s so busy despising you.

“He doesn’t want me like that, Tommy.”

Doesn’t want to see you like this in his bed, half naked and begging for him. “How do you know that?” You fiddle your hands with the band of your underwear, where a string is fraying on the edge. “He hates me…can’t even stand to look at me, he’s made that pretty clear.”

Tommy chuckles slowly and tosses you his shirt. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Honey. Try, you might surprise yourself.”

You pull the shirt on and curl up on the pillow, letting your head swim in the whiskey that's starting to take its toll on you now. “Sleep in here tonight, won't try anything—I promise.”

He takes the spot beside you and you smile sleepily, pulling the blanket over the top of you. “Thanks Tommy.”

Sleep comes easy when you’ve drank as much as you have tonight and you try not to think about the other side of this wall.

In the next room, Joel sits fully clothed at the end of his bed with his head in his hands, trying his damndest to stop the tears burning his eyes and tracking down his face.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #archive of our own #joel tlou #cowboy joel #dbf joel miller

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 7 months

Text

⥇ rags / 30 / MDNI 18+ / ao3 / ask box (anon on)

[ 01/03/2024 ]: Went ahead and posted a Gone Fishin' sign on the door because I've been non-stop wringing my hands over not writing the last few months. Just got burned out between working retail hell season and some home-life stress, and decided, eh, fuck it, might as well take the pressure off myself to start off the year. Love y'all! <33

Follows and somtimes replies from @vide0-nasties!

Tags: My Work / Fic Recommendations / Inspiration (Quotes & Art) / WIP Previews / Housekeeping / Answered Asks

⥇ masterlist under the cut

⥇ recently posted

hot in sarajevo ii

x f!operator!reader - NSFW! pwp

After a successful assassination, König is in a foul mood after being forced into the role of spotter. He takes his pound of flesh in the form of frustrated sex. After an intoxicating string of kills behind your anti-material rifle, like hell are you going down without baring your teeth and snapping. Part II: sweet to the sour, with a surprise ending.

⥇ all works

call of duty: modern warfare

⥇ captain price

for the sake of having you near [ part: i / ii / iii ]

x f!veteran!reader - divorce au

Twenty years you had known John, and for seventeen of them you were married. After a career-ruining injury in the field, you were forced out of the service, and the marriage did not survive your survival. But: when John goes on leave, he always finds his way home to you.

⥇ könig

hot in sarajevo [ part i / ii ]

x f!operator!reader - NSFW! pwp

to leave the blood stay in the veins [ part i, ii ]

monster!könig x f!cursed!reader - NSFW! monsterfucker au

There is a beast in the woods, and it leaves so little meat on the bone that not even carrion birds find value in the corpses it leaves behind. Your boyfriend thinks it’s funny. König, under his ever-present hood, laughs, sharp in the tooth. “Anyone dumb enough to head into the trees is dumb enough to die,” he teases, but there is an arrogance and a contempt swimming deep in his bloodshot blue eyes.

⥇ nikto

your bones singing into mine [ part i / ii / iii / iv ]

x gn!bioweapons engineer!reader - slice of life

You were once a brilliant thing, a creator of terrible and powerful miracles of modern science that could bring the world to its knees. A Russian crime syndicate that swept you up tucked you away in a small, dark place to keep you safe while they moved, leaving you to die a slow death in a forgotten hole. Nikto arrives at this barren corner looking for information and resources, and he finds exactly that in you. He decides that he will keep you, put you back to rights.

#masterlist #housekeeping

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rosekasa · 25 days

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HELLO PERSON WHO DEFINITELY DIDNT REBLOG THAT ASK GAME JUST BECAUSE I WANTED TO ASK QUESTIONS HAHAHA NO DEFINITELY THAT WAS NOT ABOUT ME

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy? (is this like asking you which is your favorite child)

🎭What genre of writing comes easiest to you? (hee hee it doesnt just have to be about fanfiction either !!)

🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of? (your writing is so beautiful if someone else already asked you this PLEASE still answer it again with another line or paragraph 🥺 I'm begging)

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic? (I KNOW you look up and learn lots of things while writing)

⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be? (🥺🥺 you always have such insight)

HI PERSON I DEFINITELY DIDNT REBLOG THIS FOR I LOVE YOU AHDJSJS

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

like poles of a magnet for SURE. i adore that fic. im not really sure why im so attached to it but it's really my baby. i love it so much

🎭What genre of writing comes easiest to you?

oh youre gonna think im so lame. it's essay writing. ahdjsjdkaksk. i think i told you before but i write book reviews for every book i read and my writing feels so Natural then because it's like. every line has a purpose to prove my point about the book. whenever im feeling rusty with narrative writing i find myself telling myself 'okay pretend this is an essay and this whole story is trying to prove your thesis about the characters' ahdjsj

🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?

bren 🥹 ily. my hanahaki wip is really fun and i feel like has a lot of good writing because it really demands a lot of descriptiveness. i have this section when adrien sees gabriel for the first time in a while that i kept scrolling up and rereading

He knows, logically, that this is his father. You can't forget a face like that, the face you searched for in vain at every fencing tournament, piano recital, fashion gala that you knew full well he hadn’t attended but you were tired and wanted an adult to hold your hand and guide you around the crowds.

It is that face. But a mimicry of it, like a portrait with the wrong proportions.

He’s gaunt — it’s the first word that comes to mind. His eyes sit deep in their sockets beneath his glasses, jaw a sharp trapezoid attached to his cheeks. It’s not just a matter of losing weight over the months — which, even if it was, would be a surprising deviation from the seventy-five kilos he had not shifted a decimal of a gram from in thirty years. It’s everything else, the biology hidden behind the layers of perfectly-tailored clothing, and well-combed hair, and skin, although pristine, textured like paper over the canvas of his skull.

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

did i ever tell you about how when i went to paris last year i literally knew where everything was by arrondissements because ive searched them up so many times for ml fics. i think it was even specifically rue lepic that i remember the most because i once wrote about ladynoir patrolling around there and it turned out to be the road right next to my hotel (yes, we got a hotel in pigalle, my paris knowledge did not supply me with what exactly pigalle is known for,)

⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?

literally not to lose that unwarranted confidence i had. at age eleven i was pounding out 50k+ word multichapter fics for my first fandom and like. the plots are so questionable. but when i reread them now im genuinely impressed at the quality of writing i had at that age. i think as i hit 13/14 i went through that phase where i was like ohhh my god i was sooo embarrassing when i was a kid and that insecurity really hindered my writing progress! i think creativity needs you to be unapologetic and cringe. that's when the best stuff is made because it's Real

i love you bren!!!

#ask

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osirisiii-bc · 7 months

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Ghost Fanfic Masterlist

Please allow me to introduce myself 😈 She/Her ✨ I find solace in writing and drawing Ghost lore related 🌹 ✨Currently inspired enough to accept prompts and requests✨

Here is what I write about:

Papa Emeritus III

IYRIN - Terzo x OC [Multi chapter COMPLETE]

An Angel in human form gets kidnapped and brought to the Ministry by a group of drunk Ghouls. Papa Emeritus III is summoned to solve the delicate situation and avoid a diplomatic incident with God, but things take an interesting turn. Chapters: 10 + 1

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

South of Heaven - Terzo x OC [IYRIN spin off - COMPELETE]

A group of rival satanists attacks the Ministry. Iyrin, now a fallen Angel, is struggling with their new demonic condition, and things between them and Papa Emeritus III are not going as they both expected. Terzo’s revenge against the rival satanists during a Metallica concert only makes things worse. Chapters: 3

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

The night of the witch - Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader [One shot]

Papa Emeritus III has asked you to be his altar for the day after ritual. Somehow he manages to make you accept, but before there is a “private lesson” you have to attend to get ready for your role…

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

The thing that should not be - Terzo x Omega [One shot]

Terzo is the 20 year old last heir of Papa Nihil and he’s definitely not having fun at his father’s birthday party. Luckily, a big Ghoul is around to save the night…

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

The cigarette - These nights always end like this. [Ficlet]

Nothing more than a short rambling of Terzo’s personal way of saying goodbye after a night of love.

>>>> Tumblr

The Third Law - Terzo x Reader [Multi chapter WIP]

Terzo Emeritus is temporarily forced on wheelchair and crutches due to a knee injury. You have to take care of him and his house for a month and a half. Nothing you haven't done before, you’d think. Well, think again.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

Papa Emeritus IV

Kids temp - Copia x F!Reader [One Shot]

Papa is going to have a day full of meetings and he had been working tirelessly on bureaucratic stuff for days. He must be so stressed, but you are there with only a cup of coffee to relieve his spirit. That can not be the only contribution you can offer to make him feel better, right?

Part I - Kids temp >>>> Wattpad | AO3

Part II - Dinner time >>>> Wattpad | AO3

Horror Vacui - Copia x Phantom Ghoul [One Shot]

Papa Emeritus IV is getting older and tired, but Phantom, a freshly summoned Ghoul who needs to be trained to the new world, is always by his side to relieve his aching soul.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

Multiple Papas

Terzo once told me… - Cardinal Copia x Papa Emeritus III (non related) [Multi chapter COMPLETE]

A tormented, angst-filled one-sided love story between two lifelong friends and how they ultimately destroyed each other. Chapters: 4

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

The Devil in your details - young Copia x young Terzo [One Shot]

It was a more or less ordinary evening, an oversized T-shirt, and a possibly too excited Copia. That's what it took to end up in bed together, and for them to enjoy it. No major reason, no jealousy, no trauma or music, because that's where the Devil lie: in the details.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

Cocoon - Cardinal Copia x Papa Emeritus III (non related) [One Shot]

Just Papa Emeritus III and Cardinal Copia enjoying some alone time in their new residence after a long tour. Work outside, cuddles in.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

Headcanons & ramblings:

Emeritus Family backgrounds

Copia is a sugar daddy for his Ghouls

Papa’s playlists

Terzo and children

Under the Ghouls' mask: I / II

Random ramblings

Papas in Italian cities: Primo | Secondo

Fanarts:

Check out the tag #OsirisBC-fanart.

** That’s all for now. Take care and stay lubed 🔥

#ghost band #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #fanfiction #papa emeritus lll #papa emeritus iv #terzo #copia

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suffarustuffaru · 1 month

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I'd love to hear more about Otto and Natsumi Schwartz if you have anymore thoughts on them

hah once again ty for all the cool asks its been fun answering them :o !! and arghhhhh otto and natsumi......................................... i have many thoughts.

ive been planning on making a comprehensive otto queer analysis post for a while - just bc i think my thoughts on reading otto as queer are kinda spread across different posts of mine HAH and i dont normally write very formally with proper grammar in most of my analysis posts, even (...i normally save that for my school essays...... </3) but id love to make an actual formal analysis just for the topic of queer otto bc i have been Gathering Evidence!! making theories!! otto's whole judging attitude towards natsumi is definitely part of it.

and also i do have fic wips in the works abt these sorts of topics!! i am publishing one sometime this month or early next month!!

anyway i went over like my theory on otto being a little fixated on normalcy in asks like this one.... which is yknow due to being an outcast his entire life so then he ends up overcorrecting a little (see: him insisting on wearing green bc he thinks itll help him look approachable) but then he never fits in anywhere Except for the emilia camp anyway so :,))

that, and. you would Think that otto wouldnt give a shit bc of his dp. like animal biology is soo widely different between different animals, biological sex can be a little complicated at times (like. snails. for example) and of course animals all work Really differently, but also sometimes animals will have sex with other members of their species with the same sex (like bats. or giraffes.) so its like. Yes, human sex and gender and sexuality and human concepts of these things are Not comparable to animals but its still like - these are natural things, you know? and ottos talked with lots of animals and probably seen a bit of shit, so you would expect him not to be homophobic or transphobic or anything right?

and i think on one level he would recognize human sex, gender, and sexuality as natural things, bc they are, but i also think otto still has internalized shit going on from all the times hes struggled with learning social rules and how human connection works as he was growing up, id say. i remember how in my. um. "how homophobic would rz characters be" tier list i had to move otto UP a tier into the same tier as FERRIS AND SUBARU.... in the DEALING WITH INTERNALIZED SHIT tier..... yes. i have reasons for doing that yep!!

so. in three idiots goddess statue episode, garf otto and subaru of course crossdress to go to this party with roswaal for Reasons!!!! and ottos got a bit of an attitude about the crossdressing ok. just gonna leave some excerpts from there regarding otto's feelings on natsumi and crossdressing:

She is a thin woman with wavy gray hair and beautiful ornaments. She has a neutral face, but the lightly applied makeup enhances her good looks. She looks so good in a dress that exposes her thin white shoulders that it is a shame that she walks with her head down.

Natsumi: “So, how long are you going to keep your mouth shut? Don't you think it's time to make up your mind?” Audrey: “I'm more curious as to why you're so adamant about this!” Natsumi: “Oh-ho-ho-ho” Audrey blushed and yelled at Natsumi, who put her hand over her mouth and laughed loudly. However, in no time at all. Audrey immediately covered her face with her hands, as if ashamed of herself. Audrey: “How could this happen? If I knew there had been two other people besides me, I wouldn't have had to resort to such emergency measures! I've been tricked!"

Needless to say, it was Garfiel who was dressed as the blonde woman, and Otto as the gray-haired woman. And the last one, Natsumi Schwartz, was the one who… Subaru: “So she's the temporary form of Natsuki Subaru, as you know.” Otto: “Um, how come you're so smooth and perfect? Even your voice has changed, hasn't it?” Subaru: “Actually, I failed once before because I couldn't change my voice. Ever since then, I've been practicing for a chance at revenge.”

Subaru: “Did you actually have a secret desire to dress as a woman? So you took this opportunity to......?” Otto: “don’t look at me like you've just found out the terrible truth!” Otto spat and screamed at Subaru's shocked face. Then, while he was breathing hard. Otto: “Your crazy prediction is way off! I really only did what Ram asked me to do. I thought I was doing the camp a favor, and this is how they treat me!” Subaru: “Wow, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, calm down. Look, you're ruining your pretty face....…” Otto: “Shut up”

With the men calling out to her one after another, Audrey left the crowd and took a breath. She wanted to sit on the balcony and enjoy the cool breeze to cool down the heat of the party. To be honest, since we entered the venue, the men have been constantly coming at us with no time to rest. Audrey had heard that this was a place to meet people, but the hunt of a hungry wolf is insatiable. They are so hungry that they are even blinded by the gender of the person in front of them. If they don't develop a better eye for women, even if they do meet someone, they will probably end up unhappy. Or is it that "good"? Audrey: “Hmm, makeup is scary. I can see how men can turn into....…”

Audrey glanced toward the center of the hall. There, as usual, Natsumi was having a good time chatting with many of the participants. She was so excited that she could be heard shouting over and over again. Garnet: “Captain...... No, not so much as a lady” Audrey: “I really wonder what's going on with that guy....... I'm worried that he won't respond to me calling him Natsuki-San anymore.”

Gwain: “No, no, no, enough is enough. You ladies are beautiful, especially that dark-haired girl, Natsumi Schwartz. She's got the youngsters by the balls. She's a bad girl.” Audrey: “Ha-ha-ha.” Audrey couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh and failed to look feminine.

Then, smiling with her hand over her mouth, is a woman with distinctive mean looking eyes. With her unusual black hair and jet-black dress, she exudes elegance in her demeanor. Perhaps it's because she's a good talker and a good listener, but she seems to be able to swim through the social scene with ease, laughing and creating a friendly atmosphere even when surrounded by several men. I couldn't decide whether I should be impressed or dismayed by her versatility. A short distance away, a sharp-looking blonde woman silently waved away the men who approached her, creating a stark contrast between the light and dark of the people involved. And to those of us on the sidelines, watching the scene…

anyway so. thats a whole lot of excerpts and theres probably at least a little bit more in that ss that i didnt put in this post hah.... and i know that you could definitely interpret these scenes in a few different ways, and also that when youre writing about gender, your feelings on it are likely to bleed into the text a bit and so some of stuff like otto being a Bit of an Asshole in this ss might just be tappei's tappei-isms also (which is most likely the case for stuff like this entire ss tbh :,)) ) but. but i do think theres Something here to be analyzed in regards to otto!!

bc like. lbr. i really doubt that otto is Straight. i really really doubt that hes straight, and i feel like theres just so so much possible gay subtext behind whatever the hell ottos feelings for subaru are thatre scattered across side content and the main story HAH...... this isnt even my ottosuba bias talking, its genuinely what i think could be happening here. and lbr if otto was female everyone and their mother would be shipping ottosuba more i think haha.

but yeah anyway otto shows up being a little...... wack..... about crossdressing??? HM. hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. but also the rezero fantasy world seems to be rather Judgmental about these sorts of things anyway so. :,)))

but i am squinting HARD at "I'm worried that he won't respond to me calling him 'Natsuki-san' anymore".............. and the hungry wolf part......... im squinting at it for multiple reasons (tappei being tappei) (.....but also WHAT is going on in otto's head...)..... "I couldn't decide whether I should be impressed or dismayed by her versatility."............

anyway. i think this could be several possiblities....

otto is once again focused on what's considered "normal" and is focused on trying to at least Attempt to fit into societal ideas of normalcy so when he sees subaru whos this absolutely chaotic and bold person whos also like Queer In Every Direction, otto's brain basically shortcircuits. hes like "wtf how are you doing that. you cant do that. thats not allowed. youre so confident about this too. wtf" (ie: ............otto is transphobic.) (this is 1ooo% the most likely option)

otto is gay for subaru and subaru dressing as a woman gives otto a little bit of a bi crisis. natsumis a bad girl thats got youngsters by the balls, you see. also bc subaru called otto pretty and otto was immediately like "SHUT UP" like T^TT

otto is gay for subaru and subaru dressing as a woman gives otto a tiny itty bitty crisis bc if subaru's sex was female and if subaru was 100% a woman then liking subaru romantically would be a million times easier bc then its societally acceptable

otto, being a bit of a manipulative asshole, goes "hm. subaru-as-natsumi effortlessly charming the room? interesting. i approve of the political maneuvering."

otto is being an asshole, once again, to complain, once again, about all the work he Willingly Does for his friends

................................................gender envy???????

or feeling off bc hes uncomfortable crossdressing just bc of that mismatch between his gender presentation and his gender yknow

otto is feminine/androgynous, so could he have been made fun of for this in the past?????????????????? does he ever get uncomfy about that?????????????????????? not being traditionally masculine??????? bc otto easily passes as a woman when hes crossdressing?????????

a mix of a few of the above options!!!!!

but yeah like. ottos clearly ashamed and embarrassed to be crossdressing. he's also been mistaken for a woman in the past (in subaru's pov) bc yknow hes very androgynous. and also otto gets Really Fucking Defensive when subaru insinuates that otto couldve wanted to dress as a woman also this entire time. the "youre ruining your pretty face..." "shut up." exchange is SOOOO.... T^TT

(and also quick side note but i think ottos stance on queerness is "i dont think its personally wrong. except that i think its wrong Societally bc society will be a bitch about it!! too much Trouble and Work For Me!!!! " :,)))) fucking bitch. thanks otto </333)

and im sure the "I'm worried that he won't respond to me calling him 'Natsuki-san' anymore" line is a dig at subaru passing so so strongly as natsumi that ottos like "urgh hes more of a Woman now" or smth :,))))) however!! its also interesting just bc "natsuki-san" is like. otto turned it into a pet name. basically. like at this point. even though he and subaru have grown closer during and after arc 4 otto Still uses "natsuki-san" - its kind of special, yknow? dude turned that into a fond nickname. so its like..................... if you squint.... why is otto basically saying "will subaru being natsumi drive him away from me..." like im gonna slap otto across the face i swear HAHA. but also otto Does use "natsumi-san" towards natsumi as well but im still. squinting hard at that. "natsuki-san" is The original pet name, after all.

and also the hungry wolf lines... like i know the intent of that is like. otto as audrey keeps getting hit on by guys at this party bc shes attractive, right, with her dress and makeup and styled hair and all that. insert tappei's tappei-isms here. but ottos musing on this like "mm.... men can be so hungry in their romantic pursuits that they'd be blind to the true gender of the person theyre hitting on...... makeup can really do such a thing huh... turns men into Animals..." and its like. hm. otto. you know. i Wonder. i really wonder my guy after hearing about you be obsessive over subaru for like three arcs!!!!!!!!!!

as for ottos gender like. dude is cisgender in canon im sure. though i definitely think its fun to explore genderqueer interpretations of him - and even then, i think even if he isnt genderqueer, i think there might be a bit of shock or even envy, if you squint, at otto seeing subaru so flamboyant and way more confident about crossdressing while ottos over here ducking his head and red with embarrassment while natsumi is absolutely OWNING it. despite the judgment otto and other people are giving!!! otto could Never. it completely blows ottos mind a little, from the looks of it. "how come youre so smooth and perfect?", the defensiveness at subaru saying otto couldve secretly wanted to dress as a woman, "i couldnt decide whether to be impressed or dismayed", and of course it all goes back to subaru being in the spotlight and otto watching from the sidelines. in the Darkness, you could say. hahahaahahahah................. subaru who gets easily into trouble and seems so so shameless about things while ottos so distressed about it.... about every little thing................

but also i do have another running theory that subaru's masculinity issues and otto's androgyny do clash a little just bc. well subarus judged ferris a bit before - "what part of you is like a man?" iirc is the line from arc 4 wn that subaru said to ferris. and subaru can feel more confident bc hey.... im more masculine than a guy like otto, right? otto, who can easily be mistaken for a girl? but im sure subaru would be a little jealous, even. maybe. bc woah. i want to pass as a girl when i decide to dress as one. and then yknow ottos being a dick abt it. maybe its a "im a man and Not a woman" (cisgender man who is uncomfortable dressing as a woman and knows this is not for him) thing too or maybe its a "im a man and Not a woman, so doing this is stupid and beneath me" (internalized/not internalized transphobia????????????) thing???????

yeah so idk i feel like theres different ways to read this fr especially when. haah..................... otto is Not Straight for subaru. thats for sure.

so why are you being an asshole about your crush crossdressing????????? why does it kind of threaten you a bit???????????????????????? why are you behaving this way????????????????????

but if you think about it i do think that maybe. at the heart of all of this. otto is just upset at the Impossibility of him and subaru being together (in any sense of that word) bc theyre so similar but so so different and it makes them clash in every way. :,))))

#save for later #<<< for when i finally get to doing that Formal queer otto analysis :<<<#rezero #re:zero #natsuki subaru #otto suwen #natsumi schwartz #ask #......#audrey souffle #thats a great fucking alias right there. souffle.....#very cute name!!!#i defff think though ottos backstory affects a lot of his personality of course #like on a deeper level than some ppl probs think abt with him #like dude Does have internalized shit going on HAH #like nooooo donntttt you twink!!!! dont get brainwashed by terrible societal norms!!!!!!! pls!!!! :(( >:(((

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panda-writes-kpop · 9 months

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2 Years With Panda-Writes-Kpop

2 years. Holy shit.

The last two years have been chaotic and adventurous, entertaining and draining, and fun and emotional, but I wouldn't take back any of it. ❤️ I've had so much fun maintaining, managing, commenting, and being this online persona that you've all come to see, interact with, and enjoy. I mean, 1,300+ followers is absolutely nuts to me - I just enjoyed writing for the sake of writing and self-improvement. To see engagement on this level has been mind-blowing and phenomenal, and I'm so thankful. You've all helped lead me to new friendships and new experiences, and I couldn't be happier and more thankful to all of you.

So, here comes some good news - I won't be fully ending this blog. There just won't be regular posts or longer fics with complex storylines. I've come to the realization, over my 2 month hiatus from writing, that I enjoy writing for K-pop idols in smaller amounts, like with drabbles or reaction-style content with the idols that I currently write for. In simpler terms, after December 1st, I'll be taking a one-month hiatus before posting content that is similar to the slushie prompts and other reactions that I've done in the past.

There's a lot of work that I want to get done to help transition into the phase, and I think you'll find these changes helpful and necessary.

And the easiest, introduce you to @kit-kat-katie 😌 This is my writing blog for other fandoms like the Hunger Games and Obey Me. This blog will also hold any longer-style fics or fics that feature a different writing style than what you might be used to here. (I'm putting up a Ryujin fic in a week or so.... so you should go follow if you wanna see that. 🤭)

Separate and re-vamp my rules for writing and my navigation page. It's an absolute train wreck right now, and the end goal is to make it user-friendly to me and to you.

Revamp the masterlist - again, mostly because I think I'm about to hit the link limit on mobile for the Dreamcatcher page, but it also needs some fixing up, plus I want to add some more groups to the main masterlist.

Add more groups and soloists to the masterlist - this is just me needing to sort through variety content for these groups, but if you're curious, here are the groups. (Aespa, New Jeans, IVE, Somi, Eunbi, and more to come, probably.)

Re-open requests. This should be the last and final thing I need to do for this blog. I'm going send out a post when I do, and I'll be encouraging requests to help me finish the slushie prompts since that'll be my goal for 2024. 🥰

Revamp @archive-of-queens - This blog was supposed to be about archiving this blog, but since I'm no longer doing that, it'll serve as a graveyard to all the ideas that never came to life. I just need to fix the intro post, and then I can start to release the content that's been sitting there for a while.

I also need to overhaul the WIP page, but that'll happen in that one-month hiatus.

I'm so excited to start a new era - an era that will be less stressful on me but still provide quality content for you all. I will not be missing the schedule of the WIP that I currently have 🫣 so I'm hoping that having more freedom with less time constraints can help the creativity flow more. ❤️ Thank you for being along for the ride, and I'm so happy that you all will hopefully choose to stay with me for what's to come.

Thank you for a great two years, and here's to next year. 💗

#2 years is nuts tbh #but I am glad you all have stuck with me for this long #announcement #katie talks

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akirameta84 · 11 months

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idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)

id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)

but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"

has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done

its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine

enjoy i guess

also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go

Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.

He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.

They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.

Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.

In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.

Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.

He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.

Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.

‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’

Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.

That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.

Both sucked.

‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’

‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’

Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.

And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’

Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.

Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.

‘…Can you…m-maybe-’

‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’

Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.

He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.

When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.

Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.

‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.

To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.

Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.

…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.

If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.

(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).

Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.

‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’

He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.

To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.

That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.

Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.

‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’

‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’

‘…I’m what?’

Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.

Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.

Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.

‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.

‘You are really something special, babe.’

Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.

‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’

Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.

Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.

Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.

‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’

Aren just chortled.

‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’

There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.

Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.

‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’

Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.

‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’

‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’

‘Very well.’

Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.

But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.

Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’

Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.

Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.

Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.

He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.

He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.

As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.

And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.

It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.

Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.

Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”

Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.

His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.

“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”

A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”

He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.

Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.

Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.

“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”

Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.

“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”

Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.

His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”

Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.

“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”

The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.

Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.

Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.

“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”

That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.

“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”

…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.

He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”

Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’

He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.

Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.

…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.

They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.

Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.

“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.

Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.

Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.

Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.

If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.

‘Are you telling us to shut up?’

‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’

‘…Right.’

Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.

As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.

At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.

Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.

Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.

Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.

The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.

His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.

When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.

He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…

…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.

----

Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.

His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.

His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.

Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.

Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.

Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.

His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.

She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.

“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”

“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”

He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.

Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.

He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.

As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”

“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.

The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.

That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.

Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.

He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.

It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”

He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.

“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.

He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.

Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.

----

Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.

#werewolf au #akira scribbles #<- i guess even wips can go here now lol #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#kubosai

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