fire743
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Narinder's newfound mortality has its... setbacks. Needing to eat, drink, and sleep. Then the ailments. When was the last time he's been ill? He can't remember. The Lamb is there to support him through all of it, wanted or not.
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- Part 1 of bumbles narilamb slop (emeto flavored)
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He raises his head and his tail enters his vision. He zeroes in on the two prongs at the end. The glass of his screen warms up and he can only imagine the redness. His vision darts to the head of his cock, then back to his tail. He had only done it once before. He was so horny and desperate that night he needed something else. It felt so good. It takes a lot of time, but it was the end of the day and he had no other commitments for the night.
based off some lovely art by @nsfws18plus on twitter! ill link the art in the fic, please check it out!
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“O-Oh? Didn’t expect you to actually finish it…” He says. “You liked it that much?”
Spamton nods. “[LOVED IT].”
Tenna’s smile turns wobbly. He pulls out another plate of pancakes, setting them on the table. Spamton stares down at them. He’s already starting to feel full, but…
“WELL.” He starts, picking up his fork again. “I’M NOT ONE TO [DECLINED] SUCH [Genorsity].”
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this is based off of an absolutely amazing comic i saw on twitter. i HAD to write something for it i simply couldnt resist! the artist knows who they are theyre amazingggg hh
who doesnt love a little stuffing with vomit at the end? -
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If Tenna was honest, he does wish he could let Spamton in. He would want nothing more than to be doted over when he doesn’t feel well, especially by him. But…
Tenna’s head drops to look down at his crotch, wincing at the tent he finds there. He always had this issue when he got sick, the churning of his stomach sending heat to his cock, leaving him hard and dripping. Tonight wasn’t any better. He was only lucky that Spamton hadn’t noticed.
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Spamton already watches you. Why not give him a show?
this is a part 2 to my fic PenPals! ill add it to a collection here but please read that fic first! this one will make a little less sense if you dont.
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- Part 2 of penpals and associated works :3
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Ren had never been very good with authority. Now the authoritative pressures he felt compelled to disobey were the bossy older boy who had tried to kill him and the mysterious supernatural force pulling the two of them together. Having shot one supernatural force in the head very recently, Ren wasn’t particularly inclined to follow the whims of any others.
In Maruki's new reality, an accident of actualization has a unique effect on Goro and Ren– one that neither boy will adapt to easily. -
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People keep coming up to Kaveh to congratulate him. Kaveh doesn’t really know why, and he’s a little too scared to ask at this point, so he heads back home, content if not a little bemused.
He is, unfortunately, reminded of it the very next day, when the door slams open and Al-Haitham stalks in. “Mind telling me why everyone was congratulating me today?” he demands. “About your pregnancy?"
Or: Al-Haitham is, without a doubt, the most annoying person Kaveh knows. Maybe the world’s second-most annoying person can help Kaveh figure him out.
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He shoves him away by the shoulders, exhausted and in pain. “You have to go, Sir. Leave me behind.”
Ghost rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide it. “I won’t leave you here, Johnny.”
“Ghost. I can’t walk. The enemy is everywhere, and all I’m doing is slowing you down.” He pats Ghost’s breast pocket, feeling the firm shape of a flash drive within. “You got what we came for, right? Get it to Price, then come back for me.”
Ghost shakes his head. “We’re a team.”
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Alhaitham and Cyno wake up to find they have somehow swapped bodies.
With no clear memories of the past few days, the two must investigate to find out how this happened and how to reverse it.
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Whumptober 2023 ~ Day 2: "I'll call out your name, but you won't call back."
Delirium | "They don't care about you."
His room is quiet, void of color, and as he looks around, he realizes he’s completely alone. There’s no trace of his friends… no spear propped up in the corner, no Lunar Lotuses sitting in a vase on the nightstand, no chair pulled up to the side of his bed so someone can hold his hand, not even a nurse or doctor waiting for him to wake up. Kaveh makes a valiant effort to pretend the way his stomach sinks and the sharp pain that stabs through his chest are a result of whatever injury has landed him here. His friends are busy people, and who knows if they consider him a friend anyway, with how much of a nuisance he is.
“They don’t care about you, sunshine.”
He tangles his fingers together in his lap, blinking back the emotion he feels gathering in his throat. He’ll be fine on his own, he always has been.
OR: Kaveh thinking he's unloved, and being proved wrong.