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lendeah · 3 months

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UNBOUND

Chapter 1: The Apprentice

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Summary: In her final year at Blackstaff, Neri faces a pivotal moment as her mentor, Vanja, departs for Waterdeep's council matters. Enter Gale of Waterdeep, a renowed wizard and set to be Neri's new mentor. Tasked with aiding him in a mysterious research project and retrieving three Netherese stones, Neri finds herself at the center of a monumental quest that challenges not only her magical prowess but also her understanding of power, responsibility, and love.

Gale needs to retrieve the three Netherese stones in order to reforge the Karsus Crown, and his new apprentice Neri gets tangled in his mess.

Pairing: Gale x OFC!Reader

Tags: Slow Burn, Mentor/Protégé, but everything is healthy I promise, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Gale (Baldur's Gate), Gale Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Professor Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Word count: 4.4k

AO3 LINK

It's here! I have been working on this idea for weeks and I am so excited to finally write more about my favorite wizard. Also, I love dark academia genre so maybe I will add a teeny tiny bit of it for this fic. Anyway, hope you enjoy and let me know any feedback!

She glided effortlessly through the dimly lit corridors of the Academy, her footsteps echoing on the cold stone floors. She bowed her head towards a halfling who was gathering scattered stones from the ground, which had most likely fallen from a hole in the ceiling above. In the aftermath of the mindflyer attack, there was a sense of bustling activity as builders, mages, and even blacksmiths, worked to repair and strengthen the parts of the Academy that had been damaged or destroyed. While the battle in Waterdeep had not been as devastating as in Baldur's Gate, the forces of the Absolute had still attempted to cause as much chaos and destruction as possible. And with Blackstaff's impressive repository of powerful spells and artifacts, they were a prime target for their enemies.

As she walked into the large wooden doors at the end of the hallway, a sense of warmth and familiarity enveloped her.

"Vanja," Neri said, bowing her head respectfully. "I apologize for my delay."

The Blackstaff sat at her desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and books. She looked up and smiled warmly.

"Oh, Neri. It's good to see you safe and well. Please, have a seat."

Neri nodded and took a seat in front of Vanja's desk, letting out a sigh of relief. Being back in Vanja's office always felt like coming home, after so many years of visiting this very office to discuss matters with her mentor. She patiently waited for Vanja to finish signing off on a document before speaking.

"I already sorted through the books and artifacts from the tower, like you asked." Neri started, pulling out a stack of papers from her bag. "Everything is thankfully intact. We still have to-."

But Vanja waved dismissively."Thank you, my dear. But that's not what I brought you here for."

"Is something the matter?" Neri asked cautiously. She assumed that the reason for the summon was to receive an update on the progress of recovering the Academy they had entrusted her with after the attack. For weeks, she had been meticulously examining and cataloging every artifact, scroll, book, and valuable in the vault, ensuring that everything was accounted for and undamaged.

Vanja let out a deep sigh, "You are in your last year as a higher student, are you not?"

She nodded slowly, not understanding where this was going. The fact that she is a last-year student was well-known for her mentor, at least that's what she hoped after ten years under her wing.

"And have you given any thought to what you will pursue once you graduate?" Vanja continued.

Neri's mind raced with doubt as she considered confessing her true desires to her master for the umpteenth time. Coming from a long line of powerful wizards, known for their skills in Evocation, it was expected that she would follow suit and dedicate her life to this school of magic. The Thunderstaff family had served the Watervian military for generations, using their wizardry abilities to protect the city. Neri didn't dislike Evocation; in fact, she had a natural talent for it and found joy in practicing it. She had even created some interesting elemental spells of her own in the past. But there was always a nagging feeling within her, a longing for something more, for the power to conjure whatever she desired, to teleport herself anywhere she pleased. It may not have been a practical desire like evocation was, but she reveled in the thought of having everything and anything at her fingertips, molding the space around her according to her whims. Yet, she couldn't imagine going against her family's expectations and causing conflict within their already strained relationships.

"I...I'm not sure yet," Neri finally replied.

Vanja gave her a knowing look, but decided not to comment on it. "I see... Well, I have news for you that might affect the plans we had for your last-year research."

Neri's heart fluttered at those words. The final year research was crucial for Blackstaff students, a chance to make an impact on the academy's legacy, whether it be positive or negative. Neri had always envisioned making a groundbreaking discovery during this research, something that would impress even her strict family and perhaps convince them to let her follow her scholarly path. The thought of her plans being altered filled her with a sense of unease.

"What news, Vanja?" Neri asked.

The woman laid back on her chair, her fiery red hair swaying gently with the movement. "As I'm sure you're aware, the Council of Waterdeep has been putting in a great deal of effort to gather allies and resources following our clash with the Absolute. And a few weeks ago, they asked for my aid."

Neri's eyes widened in surprise. The Council hardly ever involved themselves with the affairs of the Academy, but she supposed it made sense given the circumstances.

Vanja continued, "They need my help, but I am limited in what I can do unless I take the time to focus on it. Unfortunately, being Blackstaff already demands the majority of my schedule. As your mentor, it is my responsibility to guide and support you, but that cannot be done if I am frequently absent, especially during such a crucial year as your final one."

Neri felt a knot form in her stomach. Was Vanja implying that she would no longer be her mentor? But what about their final research? Would she have to wait another year to finish her studies?

"Does this mean I won't be your apprentice anymore?" Neri asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Vanja gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm afraid so, my dear. The situation is dire and I must dedicate all of my remaining time and energy towards helping the Council. Of course, I will still be available to help you whenever you need it, but you will no longer be under my supervision."

Neri tried to keep her disappointment in check, but she couldn't help the sadness that washed over her. Vanja had been her mentor and friend for the past ten years, guiding her through the ups and downs of her magical education. Neri had even often entertained the thought of one day taking on the role of Blackstaff if Vanja were to choose her as her successor. She thought if she did well enough with her research, Vanja would finally see her true potential. But with these latest developments, it seemed like that dream was fading away.

"I understand," Neri said quietly.

Feeling Neri's distress, Vanja spoke up again. "Don't lose heart, my dear. You are my top student and a testament to this school's excellence. Thus, I decided to reach out to my most reliable colleagues, and one of them has agreed to be your mentor in my absence and support you with your research."

Neri's eyes widened in surprise once again.

"May I ask who the wizard is?" Neri asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The redhead just gave her a small smile.

"Of course. It is none other than Gale of Waterdeep."

🔮

As she entered her chambers, she couldn't stop her mind from racing with the news. Gale of Waterdeep. She had heard stories about him, he was practically a legend here in Blackstaff. Some said he was one of Elminster's most talented pupils, others claimed he had been chosen by Mystra herself. But then, they also said that after Mystra left him, he went mad with grief and shut himself in a tower for an entire year. Neri wasn't sure where he had disappeared to in the past year, but now it seemed like he was back. To her, this behavior was unstable - locking oneself away for a year because of a breakup? It just didn't seem right.

But then again, she reminded herself, these were just rumors and hearsay. She couldn't judge Gale before even meeting him. If Vanja had selected him as her mentor, it implied that she had enough faith in his abilities to entrust him with her final research project.

So Neri tried to push aside her doubts and focus on the positive aspects of being Gale's apprentice. He was known for his incredible knowledge of the weave. Hells, he was chosen by the goddess of magic herself, which meant that he must've been extraordinary with the art. She also reminded herself that this was not a permanent arrangement. Once Vanja returned, she would resume her role as Neri's mentor. Until then, she would have to make the best of this situation.

She is about to enter her bedroom, breathless from walking five sets of stairs, when she catches a glimpse of another figure in the hallway.

"Leaving in the middle of the night again? Vanja won't be pleased that your tasks aren't getting completed." she said, teasingly. She had recognized him immediately - Eiruk, one of her closest friends and fellow student at Blackstaff Academy. He had a habit of disappearing in the middle of the night without telling anyone, a habit that often earned him scoldings from the Blackstaff. Neri lived next door to him, which was lucky since they were able to keep an eye on each other and make sure they didn't get into too much trouble.

Eiruk turned towards her with a cheeky smile on his face, his messy black curls falling over his green eyes. "Neri. Always up in my business."

"Well, it's not like you are especially discreet," Neri replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't help it if I have an adventurous spirit," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Neri rolled her eyes playfully. "More like a reckless one," she retorted.

Eiruk grinned, knowing she was right. He had always been the more impulsive and adventurous of the two of them, while Neri was the practical and responsible one. But somehow, their friendship worked perfectly from day one. She smiled to herself as she recalled how he had attempted to bow to her on their first meeting. They were both twenty at the time, but he had blushed like a fifteen-year-old trying to impress someone older.

"So, where were you off to this time? Searching for another priceless artifact from a shady dealer? Or is it a personal mission?" Neri asked with a smirk.

Eiruk hesitated for a moment before answering.

"You will have to wait and see," he finally said with a shrug.

Neri gave him a knowing look but decided not to press further. She knew Eiruk was keeping secrets from her, but she also respected his privacy.

"So," Eiruk said, changing the subject, "I heard Vanja called you to her office this evening. What did she want?"

Neri sighed, her expression turning sour. "She informed me that she will no longer be my mentor. The Council has requested her assistance so she must dedicate all her time to helping them."

Eiruk's eyes widened. "She's quitting her role as your mentor? But you're in tenth year!"

Neri nodded glumly. "I know. I was shocked too. But with everything happening after the clash with the Absolute, I understand why her need to focus her efforts elsewhere for now."

"That's rough," Eiruk said, putting a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "So, who's going to mentor you now?"

"Gale of Waterdeep," Neri replied. "Vanja has arranged for him to take over my training and research in her absence."

Eiruk's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Gale of Waterdeep? As in, one of the most powerful wizards in Faerûn? As in, Mystra's chosen?!"

Neri shrugged. "I suppose so. I don't have much information about him other than all the gossip going around. However, I never thought he held much significance anyway."

"Are you jesting?" Eiruk exclaimed. "He is one of the biggest mages in history!"

Neri shrugged again, trying to downplay the situation. "I suppose so. But I never put too much attention on his figure, to be honest."

Eiruk whistled in admiration.

"You know, it's quite an honor. Apparently, he doesn't take on many apprentices. I heard he invented the Plane Shift enchantment when he was only seventeen," Eiruk said, his voice tinged with awe.

Neri looked at him in surprise. "Wait, he invented Plane Shift? That is one of the best Conjuration enchantments. I thought he was in evocation school."

"Well, he was originally in evocation school, but he dabbled in conjuration as well," Eiruk explained. "And it turned out that he had a natural talent for it. He's rumored to have mastered every school of magic."

Neri couldn't believe what she was hearing. A wizard mastering not one, not two, but all schools of magic at once? That was unheard of. She couldn't believe her luck, or perhaps misfortune, to be under the tutelage of such a powerful and legendary wizard. She knew she was skilled, hence why Vanja took her on as a student. But Gale seemed to be on a whole other level.

"Do you think he'll be a good mentor for you?" Eiruk asked, breaking Neri out of her thoughts.

"I don't know," Neri replied honestly. "I mean, Vanja was an amazing mentor and I learned so much from her. It's hard to imagine anyone else filling her shoes."

Eiruk nodded in understanding. "But maybe it's a good thing. A fresh perspective might be beneficial for your research."

Neri couldn't argue with that logic, but she couldn't help feeling apprehensive about the change.

"Well, I better get going," Eiruk said, glancing at the starry sky through the big hallway window. "You will have to keep me updated on the Gale situation. Ugh, why are you always so lucky with mentors!" Eiruk pouted playfully before bidding her goodbye and disappearing into the dark halls of the academy.

Neri made her way to the door of her own room, feeling a bit anxious about meeting her new mentor for the first time. She wondered what kind of training he would put her through and if she would be able to live up to his expectations. She held onto hope that she would.

🔮

As she navigated the streets of Waterdeep towards the bay, Neri couldn't help but be struck by how much had changed since she last visited this part of the city. Buildings had been torn down and replaced with newer, flashier ones, and some of the magic shops she used to frequent were now gone, replaced with fancier establishments catering to the wealthy citizens of Waterdeep. Even the streets seemed more crowded and busier than she remembered. Carriages and people hurried by, paying no attention to the young wizard making her way through the West Ward. Neri felt a pang of nostalgia for the quiet, quaint streets that she used to roam as a child.

The summer rays heated her skin, and she wished she had chosen to wear something more breathable. The protection of her long-sleeved leather jacket and trousers seemed unnecessary now; she would have preferred the freedom and comfort of wearing flowy skirts and shirts in this weather. As she walked towards the pier, a gentle summer breeze brushed against her skin, causing her to let out a contented sigh. She couldn't help but imagine living here, with the peaceful sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Eventually, Neri arrived at the address Vanja had given her and paused in front of a large building near the docks. It was an impressive structure made of stone, with intricate engravings and magical symbols adorning its walls. She still didn't understand why the man had made her come here instead of visiting his old school; she was sure the resident mages would kiss the floor he stepped over.

Neri stood in front of the tower, staring up at its intimidating height and ornate design. But her eyes quickly caught sight of something peculiar – there was no door. No ring bell, no handle, nothing.

She furrowed her brow in confusion and took a few steps closer to the stone wall, looking for any sign of an entrance. She circled the base of the building but still found no entrance. It was as if the tower was impenetrable.

Neri glanced back at the address Vanja had given her to make sure she was in the right place. After checking the coordinates and confirming there were no other large structures in the area, she was certain that this was Gale's tower. But how was she supposed to enter? Did Gale forget to mention some sort of magical key or spell that would open the door?

Then, Neri realized that this was probably her first test, and she had to pass it. She quickly went through every spell in her arsenal, from arcane lock to dimension door, and even remove curse, but none of them seemed to work. With a frustrated sigh, she leaned against the tower, racking her brain for any other possible solutions. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when the air around her began to shimmer and change.

A sudden presence appeared next to her. Neri jumped back in surprise as a holographic image of a man materialized before her eyes. The man appeared youthful, his hair reaching his shoulders and a beard covering his chin. However, the edges of the image were fuzzy, preventing her from getting a clear view.

"Good evening! It seems as though you are trying to enter the private property of Gale Dekarios. Please, estate your full name a reason for the visit." The hologram said with a warm smile. He must be Gale's servant then she told herself.

She quickly composed herself and bowed respectfully.

"I- Um... My name is Neriyra Thunderstaff, and I am a tenth-year student at Blackstaff Academy. I have come here because Gale from Waterdeep has been assigned as my new mentor." Neri said, trying to sound confident despite her nerves.

The hologram nodded. "Ah yes, Miss Thunderstaff. Mr. Dekarios has been expecting you. Please follow me."

With that, the hologram turned and began floating towards the tower. Neri hesitated for a moment before following after it. As they approached, Neri noticed that there was still no visible entrance. But the hologram didn't seem bothered by this and simply continued floating until they reached a specific spot on the tower's wall.

"This is where you will enter," the hologram informed her, gesturing towards a small symbol etched into the stone, almost invisible. "Simply place your hand on this mark and state your name again."

Neri did as she was instructed and placed her hand on the mark while stating her name. To her surprise, a door suddenly materialized in front of her. It was ornately carved and glowed with a faint purple light.

"Thank you," she said to the hologram, but it had already vanished into thin air.

Neri took in a deep breath and stepped inside the tower. As she entered, she marveled at the magical energy that seemed to pulse through every inch of the place. The interior of the tower was just as impressive as the exterior - high ceilings with intricate magical symbols carved into them, and a spiral staircase that led up to the different floors. She felt a bit lost in the middle of the hall, wondering where she was supposed to go. Just then, a door on her right creaked open and something poked out. A cat? No, she realized, it was a tressym. Neri's eyes widened in surprise and wonder as she took in the sight of the creature. She had only heard about them in books and stories, but to see one in person was truly amazing.

"Ah, you must be Miss Thunderstaff. Welcome to Dekarios Tower," she said warmly. "I am Tara, Mr. Dekarios' companion."

"Nice to meet you, Tara," Neri said with a small bow.

"Come along now, Mr. Dekarios is expecting you in his study." Tara smiled at her (can tressyms smile?) and gestured for Neri to follow. They made their way up the spiral staircase, passing various rooms and corridors along the way. As they reached the top floor, Tara led Neri into a large study. And the room turned out to be nothing like she had imagined Gale Dekarios' study would be. It was...well, it was a mess. There were clothes scattered on the floor, books stacked in haphazard piles all over the place, and vials of colorful potions scattered across various tables. The desk was so full of papers that Neri wondered if the man even knew what was going on there. Neri couldn't help but stare in surprise and confusion at the mess before her. She had always pictured powerful wizards to be organized and meticulous, not living in what seemed like utter chaos.

Tara cleared her throat, snapping Neri out of her thoughts. "Mr. Dekarios is a brilliant wizard, but he's not exactly the most organized."

Neri couldn't help but chuckle at Tara's words.

"Is he here?" she asked, looking around for any sign of the man in question.

Tara motioned towards a desk in the corner of the room, where a figure sat hunched over, buried under stacks of papers and scrolls. The wizard had been so obscured by the clutter that she hadn't even noticed them when she entered. Neri took a deep breath to calm her nerves before making her way over to the desk. Sensing her presence, the man looked up startled, before a kind smile coloring his features.

"Miss Thunderstaff, I didn't expect you so soon," he greeted her as she approached.

And if she was surprised before, now she was absolutely flabbergasted. The man sitting in front of her looked nothing like the wise old wizard with a beard and wrinkles that she had pictured in her mind. In fact, he was an exact replica of the hologram she had encountered downstairs (come to think of it, that made much more sense). He also lacked the otherworldly aura she had imagined for such a powerful wizard; he just seemed... normal.

His shoulder-length brown hair was neatly pulled back into an updo, highlighting his beard and gentle brown eyes; his good looks took her aback as she gazed at him. He didn't appear much older than her either. If she saw him on the street, she would never guess that he was one of the most powerful wizards in Faerûn.

"I know, I'm not what you expected," Gale said with a sheepish smile, gesturing for Neri to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

She suddenly became aware of her open-mouthed staring and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"I-I just...I imagined you to be older," she stammered out.

Gale chuckled. "Most people do. But age doesn't always equate to power or wisdom. I apologize for my first impression," Gale said, gesturing to the mess around him. "I've been quite busy lately."

Neri looked around again, grimacing at how scattered and disorganized everything was.

"What have you been working on, if I may ask?" she inquired curiously.

Gale leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath before answering. "Ah, well, you see, I am currently conducting some rather advanced and intricate magical research. Coincidentally, I have received a letter from Vanja singing your praises and detailing your... unique predicament. And lo and behold, I find myself in need of a wizarding expert to aid me in my endeavors."

"So, that's why you offered to be my mentor? You require my assistance with your research?"

Gale's head bobbed in agreement. "That's exactly why I think you could assist me in my studies," Gale stated, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "I'm currently focused on studying the fragmented weave of Karsus."

Neri's interest was piqued. She had always been fascinated by magical history. She leaned in her chair, eyebrows furrowed. "The Karsus weave? I thought that was ancient history."

"The Karsus weave is a highly complex and dangerous form of magic," Gale explained. "It involves tapping into the power of other planes of existence and manipulating time itself. It is said that only a handful of wizards ever mastered it, and even they could not control it completely."

Neri nodded, she knew the basics about the Netherese Empire and Karsus well enough from her lessons in magical history.

"The orbs that once rested atop his head are now scattered along the Crionthar. They hold remnants of his incredible power, and if we were to retrieve them, we could potentially unlock the secrets of safely using the Karsus Weave magic."

Neri's mind raced with the possibilities of this research. It could lead to great advancements in magic, but it also carried a significant risk. The Karsus weave was not something to be taken lightly, and Neri knew that firsthand from her studies.

But if they were successful, it would not only drastically alter her own life, but also have a major impact on the use of magic for years to come. If this accomplishment didn't solidify her position as the heir of Blackstaff, she couldn't imagine what else would.

"And what exactly do you need me for? I am just a student, after all," she prompted.

Gale leaned forward slightly, with a glint in his eye. "Well, let's just say that your reputation precedes you, Miss Thunderstaff. I have heard about your unique ability with Conjuration, both summoning and locating objects in place and time."

Neri's heart raced. Her powers of conjuration were a tightly kept secret, shared only with Vanja. To the rest of the world, she appeared to be mastering evocation school.

"Ahem... you can call me Neri, Mr. Dekarios. And I don't understand, you are one of the best mages in all of Faerûn. I believe your conjuring abilities are way better than mine."

"Well, that may be true, but I also have my own personal reasons for seeking out your assistance. However, I can't disclose all this information on your first day as my apprentice, lest you run away," Gale said, tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him.

Neri's mind raced with questions and he seemed to sense her confusion, studying her carefully.

"Of course, I understand if you don't want to participate. I will continue mentoring you this year and we can choose a lighter research theme for your final work," Gale continued. "But I assure you, the knowledge, experience, and renown gained from this research will be unlike anything else you have encountered."

Neri didn't even have to think about it. She knew this was an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

"I would be honored to assist you in your research, Mr. Dekarios," she said with a smile.

The amount of research I had to do about wizards in dnd is crazy. If there are any mistakes in the lore take them as creative liberties hehehe Also, my personal headcanon is Gale being messy AF in his tower, you can't convince me otherwise. Thank you for reading!

#bg3 fanfiction #gale x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #gale x tav #gale fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #gale baldurs gate #gale #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale bg3

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be-my-ally · 1 year

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The Return Flight

Big Bunny #2

As always it's super late here, I will re-edit grammar etc tomorrow! enjoy!

Summary: It’s the next day and they’re off on their return flight. Elvis and Bunny get up to panicking and meditating, and then a couple hours of later one of the other bunnies joins them. Idk I just really can’t see elvis missing out on such a prime chance for a teeny lil bit of voyeuristic action.

I truly tried to wiggle the wrist weights in but alas, not to be today - next time though, next time.

Warnings: 18+, p in v penetrative sex, handjobs (v), oral (p and v), mentions of drug use, graphic description of a panic attack, f/f touching, elvis is kinda sweet in this one - except for the voyeurism + girl on girl action; TO CLARIFY - this is asked for by elvis + both parties consensually agree however, I am warning about very teeny tiny elements of internalised homophobia + the fact that reader implies she only does so (at least at first) to please elvis - she is not, however, reluctant nor unwilling.

wc: 11.4k

FYI: I’ve updated my bio to say I’m pausing requests - just until I get my inbox cleared down + posted! xx Also!!! I’ve had a couple of requests for a taglist - so this is my official mention of that; lmk if you want me to tag you in future posts! FINALLY found images of Elvis AND big bunny! pictured on the left and top right below!

Your brief encounter with Elvis had been your first experience of anything casual, or meaningless, and you’ve never had to navigate the emotions or situations before. It makes you antsy that you don’t know the correct procedure even before you’d left the plane; what do you even say to him? ‘Thanks for the sex, see you on the flight tonight?’ You’re not proud of it, but you ultimately panic to such an extent that you hide in the powder room until they’ve all disembarked. You’d not realised you’d have to hide from the other bunnies too though; they’d all converged on you as soon as you’d left - desperate for any morsel of information you would give. You’d somehow, thankfully for your dignity and the taxi driver’s ears, managed to prevent them from asking too many questions until you’d all arrived at the hotel where you would be staying.

You were looking forward to ensconcing yourself in the hotel room, a proper shower and time to relax for the night and day or so before the return flight. That was, however, not to be, and you were thankful that you’d had the chance to at least wipe yourself down before getting redressed on the plane; your sudden lack of tights had forced you back into your dress - unwilling to be so exposed in your bunny corset. Instead of the peaceful night you had planned Daisy and Maggie were forcing their way into the room (of course, they’d have been sharing with you anyway but you can’t say that you didn’t try to run in and close the door on them) with Darla and Michelle close behind; you forget sometimes that even though they may be more ‘senior’ bunnies, they were still only two years older than you. They sit down around you, demanding you tell them everything, wanting you to fill in the gaps between the assumptions they could make from what they’d heard and when things had gone silent.

“Oh lord, I just don’t know what to do -” You'd said after you’d recounted, blushing, the majority of the details; you’d left out him licking you, or that you think that might have been the first true orgasm of your life. You leave out that you think the hour you spent with him might have made you fall in love, and other ridiculous notions. And, for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a detailed description of him, trying to simultaneously protect him and to keep something just for you; you wouldn’t let them speculate on his size, or his stamina. But you had mentioned that he had a thing for feet, something that had been met with raucous laughter and clapping from the girls when you’d prefaced that with the story of your pantyhose being torn. You were, despite your embarrassment, glad to have these girls around you - you’d grown up in a fairly conservative part of town, and you know any of your close childhood or home friends would have been disgusted with you. They might have let it go - since it was Elvis, or have loudly judged you while silently expressing a level of jealousy but under no circumstances would they have encouraged the behaviour, or been so happy for you. Nor would they have interjected your story with their own, somewhat similar, although far less famous, tales. By the time the conversation had gotten back around to your dilemma with how to deal with Elvis again you were all relaxing on the two beds, piled up and crossed legged like a slumber party. “So really - what should I do?”

“Just don’t change a thing,” Daisy recommends, “If he wants to make something of it let him, but you have to rise above it all. Seem like you don’t care. “ Maggie offers you differing advice;

“If you want it to happen again, just be all over him, it’s not like you have to worry that he doesn’t like you.” You consider these opposing suggestions, silent, sipping the terrible hotel coffee. Michelle speaks up, Darla nodding in agreement;

“In my experience… you’ve got to subtly let him know you’re there and available, but don’t fawn over him, just … just say hello in a friendly way and it’s all in his hands then. Remember, be casual about it.” You consider this for a moment before agreeing. It does seem to be the way of the least mortification. You try to put it out of your mind for the remainder of the break, taking the time to try and focus on resting and relaxing before you had to be back in the air.

This time, there’s far less pomp and circumstance around his arrival; and you’re not surprised to see that it’s solely the same group again. Only Darla greets them on the tarmac - the rest of you already onboard and preparing for a quicker departure than last time. This time, you’re all in your little bunny suits, collars and cuffs, cottontails perfectly fluffed - since he’d requested it you all assumed it would save being made to change. This airport was, despite being private, closer in airspace to the larger international airport and your takeoff time was therefore far stricter than any of you would have liked. All knowing that sometimes these celebrities were as difficult to wrangle as herding a particularly difficult group of cats.

So you don’t have a chance to really look at him, take him in, until he’s brushing past you, his thick hands on your hips and waist moving you from where you’re blocking a narrower part of hallway with your body. He doesn’t say excuse me, or ask you to move, just manhandles you across him. You feel then, before you see, the soft plush fabric of his outfit, and when you glance over your shoulder at him you’re a little surprised that rather than the expensive, perfectly fitted, suit he was wearing last time, this time he was wearing a, clearly expensive but nonetheless fairly ordinary, tracksuit - navy blue, low zipper exposing the wide collared shirt underneath - his chest hair peeking out. Your tummy flips seeing him, and you stay very still where he’s put you, struggling to remember what your plan had been. He pats your ass, casually, in the blatantly chauvinistic way that should make you squirm, that implies he could and would do it to any girl at any time - although you hadn’t actually witnessed that yourself, and you’re mortified that at even that brief touch, without any words exchanged your breath hitches and your mind goes slightly blank. He’s gone by the time you try to open your mouth to say something and you try to clear your head by distracting yourself with the take-off preparations.

Michelle is eyeing you up when you’re finishing checking the door, and she opens her mouth but you’re frantically shaking your head before she can say anything, gesturing to not say a word. She frowns, but complies - a moment later only asking you to help her sort the food out. You do so, happy to disappear for a little while and let the others deal with them for a bit. It’s not long after that the pilots signal for take-off and you sit down briefly as the plane taxies down the runway. You’re distracted enough by the situation you find yourself in; are you making it more awkward not talking to him? That for once the take-off doesn’t bother you at all and soon the plane is balanced in the air, allowing you and Michelle to finish your preparations. Daisy pops her head around the corner a few minutes later saying you’d been requested.

You breathe in, deeply, as much as you can as a little bunny, plastering a smile on your face and you head out to the forward compartment where the group is sat. You expect to walk straight over to Elvis, but you’re stopped by someone else whose name escaped you - barely greeting you;

“Look babydoll, last night, you made me the best Mai Tai of my life, and I’m sure you’re all…” he looks sideways, “as well trained as each other, but honey, I’d really like it if you could do me another one?” You somehow manage to keep your face in check even though you want to scream at his barely concealed innuendo. Instead, you agree, customer service smile on your face, and turn to the rest of the compartment asking if they were all ready for drinks. There’s a resulting chorus of orders and so you head over to the bar to get started. Elvis hadn’t responded, walking out when you’d walked in - he’d gone right into the conference space and one of the boys had mimed a phone to his ear at another's questioning face. You were a little hurt to not be acknowledged but also, truthfully, a little relieved to not have to deal with him for the second. But it wasn’t to last long, upon delivering the other drinks with the other girls to many a relieved sigh, a different man had pointed through to the conference area, gesturing to the bar,

“Think you should take the boss a little pick me up too.” You nod in agreement but he hadn’t drank last time and you have no idea what that would mean making so instead you pour a short glass of cola, hoping that’ll do at least, and balancing the glass on the tray, head through the little curtained archway. You try not to show any emotion when you walk through, keeping your face neutral and concentrating on holding the drinks tray, the slight tip of the plane was liable to send a single glass sliding if you didn’t balance it perfectly. You hear him before you see him, curled against the wall with the phone pressed to his ear. His fingers twirling the cord as he looked out of the window, but with how dark it was outside he could only be looking at his reflection. You’d intended your poker face to display that you weren’t going to be the first to crack, to acknowledge anything but now you’re having to maintain it to retain dignity once you hear what he’s saying. He’s sweet-talking a girl, uttering promises and reassurances;

“No, honey, darling, no - would I be ringing you now? You don’t need to nag me baby, that’s right you’re my baby aren’t ya, ye-ah, put it on your card honey, on my card, yeah that’s no problem… you know I like you in blue…”

You know you have no claim on him; despite your activities together you’ve barely spoken to him, and you’ve only known the man 24 hours and yet a weird surge of possessiveness fills you. Or is it even possessiveness? Or just plain jealousy? Half the trouble was that you’ve never wanted someone like this — you’d never understood why the girls at school would fawn over a specific boy, it had never interested you. You’d never lain awake wondering what you should wear or how you should style your hair to best catch their attention. But today, just this morning, you’d nipped out to the nearest drugstore to the hotel and frivolously bought a new lipstick; you had no need for a new one, and certainly not in the colour you’d chosen - far flashier than you would usually wear, for some reason certain it would catch his eye, but you’d been unable to resist the temptation of putting on a bit of a show for him. To have that gone to waste, for him to ignore you, preoccupied with worrying about appeasing some other girl? Who wasn’t even there? You were annoyed at yourself, for being hurt by his actions and for doing it in the first place.

He finally spots you in the window and he turns, waving you over, reaching out a hand for his drink off of your tray. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge you, or pause in his conversation, simply demanding you come closer with an impatient hand raised. You come towards him, dipping to allow him to easily take the glass, and you watch as he immediately tips it back for a gulp and places the half-full glass back onto the tray. He makes a little mmhmm noise down the phone as he turns his attention back to the call, and the girl on the other end. You turn to leave, not willing to simply stand there and wait for him to want the glass again, jumping when you feel him swat at your exposed thigh. You whirl back around, ready to either playfully (or truthfully, actually) confront him - once was fine but twice? But, before you can he’s back giving his attention to the phone again, looking out of the window. You take it as the dismissal he meant it, and you hate that as you walk away you add an extra sway to your walk - bunny tail bobbing with the motion - just in case he’s looking, and that you can feel your slightly smug smile from even that touch.

It feels like hours, but it was probably only twenty or so minutes later when he returns to the forward compartment, settling down into the large sofa-seat in the middle of the cabin. You’re forced to walk past a moment later and he grabs your arm on the way;

“You look real good today Bunny - very cute.” You wiggle your tail at him and he chuckles; that deep laugh that starts in his chest but ends in his belly. His head rocks and it causes his loose hair to flop about, so different from it’s stiff look from the years prior. You beam at him, pleased to have been so entertaining. He looks you up and down again, still holding onto you,

“Like the lips darlin’. You wear that just for me?” You shake your head no, but he just laughs at you, “Ohhhh, you did it for ol’ Joe over there then did ya?” Feeling the catch-22 you’ve put yourself into you frown, you don’t want to admit that you did do it for him, but god do you not want him to even jokingly suggest you were trying to attract one of the other guys. So you do the next best thing, shaking your head and teasing him back.

“Nu-uh it was for me.” He laughs back at you, his eyes crinkling. When he calms back down he shakes his head in disbelief.

“ O’course it was honey,” You protest his condescending tone,

“It was!” You gesture down at yourself, “I don’t put all this on just for you,” He laughs again, eyes crinkling as he crows at you; shouting to the rest of the boys.

“Ooh-hoo we got ourselves a real-life feminist bunny over here!” He says it mockingly, adding a sneer; “Watch out Ms. Steinem!” He scoffs, “Now hon-ney, we both know it ain’t true… so why don’t you stop playing hard to get, admit you made yourself all pretty for me and come and sit over here. Right on daddy’s knee.” He pats his lap. You frown, you were a feminist, but his lap did look pretty inviting, and your heels were already hurting and you had wanted his attention. So, you do.

“I’m only doing this because you’re paying me.” He chuckles again, one hand coming around you to hold your waist, the other coming to hike your legs further up and across him, his broad hand rubbing your thigh as he does so;

“Sure thing honey - you want me to tip you a little extra for whatever we’re about to do in there?” He nods his head towards the back of the plane. You frown a little, you know he’s joking but you’re suddenly a little worried he does think you’re paid to provide him with extra services. ‘We naturally do not tolerate any merchandising of the bunnies.’ That’s what the bunny bible says. Its word is law, so it’s not true that any extra services are expected. But then, when you think about it, you were told to be…nice to him. The annoying thought then registers, less concern about whether what you’re doing is against the rules, that you hope he realises that you’re doing this because you want to and not just because you’ve been told to. You try to shake this thought off, be casual - c’mon be casual, the mantra running through your head as you attempt to push all other thoughts and feelings out. After all, you don’t want him to think you’re not fun, or reading too much in to anything.

“No-o, that’s, that’s, that’s just an added bonus.” You stroke down the zipper of his jacket, and he laughs again, grabbing your hand and kissing the knuckles. He spreads your hands in his, assessing them.

“God, you got such pretty little fingers baby, look at them lil’ nails - what’s that colour called? Call-Girl Red? Scarlet Tart?” You blush, but you’re able to laugh, recognising that he would only continue to suggest increasingly ridiculous names until you did. He holds you there while he finishes his conversation with the boys, fingers brushing over your skin, until finally, he pats your thigh phrasing an order as a question - “Come through to the bedroom, doll?” You stand up, waiting for him to lead the way to the bedroom at the back of the plane; instead he stands and gestures ahead of him.

“C’mon bunny, hop to it,” He pauses, grinning after his borderline tragic bunny pun as if waiting for a laugh; you comply with a polite giggle even though it’s really not that funny, and take his hand when he holds it out, “let’s go.” When you cross into the bedroom he lets go, leaving you to sit down on the huge elliptical bed while he disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You try to breathe, wondering what he has planned when he returns.

You have no idea why you’re suddenly so nervous. There’s a rising sensation of breathlessness travelling up your chest, your stomach churning a little. You feel inexplicably sick, and for a moment you worry, as the plane bobs the tiniest bit - the motion normally soothing, that you might actually puke. He’s still in the bathroom, and you’re trying to calm yourself down - what will you say to him when he comes out? He’s expecting something now. You don’t want to miss out on anything, it had been so good last time; you didn’t want this to be the new lasting memory of your, however brief, time together. You try to tell yourself you’re being ridiculous - c’mon now, calm down, you’re fine - it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before - not like you haven’t done this before, why are you doing this - don’t ruin it for yourself - oh my god why are you such a little baby get a grip. But that clawing feeling is climbing your chest and you’re struggling to swallow - to breathe. You’re ripping off your little bow and collar as hurriedly as you can but it doesn’t make a difference. You sink down lower, practically lying down now, attempting to practice deep breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. It’s in that moment he comes bounding out of the bathroom - looking you over, as if he’d expected to be ready to pounce; not deal with you still fully dressed (as much as you could be in the bunny corset) and close to tears.

“Hey - hey honey what’s this?” He sounds panicked, and his pitch only increases at the tear falling down your cheek. You try to speak but can’t; “Just - Just talk to me bunny, what, what’s wrong?” You whine at him, trying to sit up and look at him rather than peep from your horizontal angle. He makes it easier by sitting by you on the bed and peering down at your face.

“Nuh-uh-thing,” You finally gasp out, “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just - just got myself all twisted.” A tear slips out, and you angrily brush it away trying to stem the flow. He looks concerned for a second, patting your arm.

“I won’t - we haven’t - we don’t gotta do anything baby, you know that? Not gotta do a thing you don’t wanna do.” He sounds unsure, like he’s not had to deal with this before, or like he’s nervous he’s upset you. It only makes the tears fall a little faster - at how nice he’s being to you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it.

“No-o no I know, I want to, I just can’t seem to stop,” You talk through your hitched breaths, trying to explain. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t breathe.” He hums, looking over at the little table that ran the length of the wall, at the little black bag settled there before patting his thighs and sighing.

“Right. ‘nough messing about - lemme just get one of the boys to call Dr. -”

“No! No! No - I want you! I wanna do this!” You roll onto your side, scrambling upright and turning to grip his jacket, twisting it in your fist. “I wanna - Elvis I promise I’ll be fine in a second just need to calm down. Catch my breath.”

“Well, if its just you’re breathing all funny let me just give you a puff of an inhaler; they’ve barely got anything in them, just wet your throat really but- but they do help,” You shake your head and he sighs again, as if unhappy you’d refuse the offer. But then he nods, almost to himself, and taking matters into his own hands - hauls you up to be leaning against this thick, sturdy, chest. The zipper was a little lower than before and another button of his shirt has popped open allowing you to pillow your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you feel yourself come down. Shame creeping up as you become fully lucid at how irrational you’d behaved. You sit there for a little while - maybe as long as twenty minutes, but could be as short as ten. Elvis hums song after song at you, occasionally breaking into a little quiet verse, chest hairs tickling you as he moved. Finally you feel sane enough to push up a little, pulling away.

“Sorry - Sorry don’t know what came over me.” You stare at his chest, avoiding making eye contact. He brushes his hand over your chin, pulling it up to force you to look at him. He’s looking at you with an expression of tenderness that’s almost too much to bear.

“S’all right doll, told you - it’s all fine.” You give him a tentative smile.

“I’m sure that wasn’t very …sexy of me, but I do wanna give it another go, please Elvis?” He looks at you hard for a moment, directly in your eyes, as if attempting to judge you were being serious. He clearly decides you were because a moment later he’s leaning over you and moving his hand up your leg.

But when his hand grazes your upper thigh, travelling upwards you feel yourself tense, suddenly stiff as a board. He kisses your neck, and his hand retreats. He spends a long couple of minutes stroking your arm, kissing your neck - your ears. Before attempting it for a second time. Again he gets most of the way there before you go stiff and tense. He moves his hand back to your arm, talking lowly and slowly, practically whispering.

“Now, darlin’ s’ok - we’ve done it before baby.” He’s soothing you like you’re a skittish horse, crooning into your ear, “If you wanna do this I need you to relax for me darling. Can’t do anything otherwise.” You nod, agitated at the accusation that you’re not already attempting to relax.

“I’m trying Elvis - I want to too! I just, it’s involuntary!” He hums - looking over at the bag again -

“Look, honey, I’ve got some, some ‘ludes you can take,” You frown, you didn’t think Elvis was known for doing disco drugs. “I take ‘em to uh help me settle down baby.” You start to speak, perhaps to question the veracity of this claim or where he gets these from - considering his position on recreational drugs. But before you can he’s talking again; “Don’t get me wrong doll, I’m not - don’t get it twisted - they’re prescribed.” He pauses again - “But they’ll sort you right out, real leg spreaders. Won’t change your mind, if you say you want it you still will but, trust me, they’ll relax your body enough.” You shake your head at him, not admitting that while you would love to breathe the concept of not being in complete control of your body was terrifying, instead taking deep breaths to try and force yourself to relax a little more.

“No-no, no need for that, ‘m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me - I’m so nervous today - I just, sorry - just need another minute.” He sighs again, and although the irrational part of your brain worries it’s in annoyance you can tell he’s more annoyed about you consistently declining his offers of help. He’s still doing his best to soothe you, delicate fingers firmly rubbing your arms and sides, a constant motion. “I just - I know it’s ridiculous, but I still feel like I can’t breathe properly.” His fingers stop on the boning of the corset, and he taps it - as if he’s discovered an answer.

“Awh no this is silly now doll, who could all squished in there like that.” He gestures down to where your chest is threatening to spill out of the tightly laced and zipped bodice. You frown, you’re pretty sure it’s mental and not physical but now he’s drawn attention to it you feel like it’s tightening around your middle. You twist to attempt to unhook it yourself - moving forward to bend out of his lap; “No, no darling, let me - I’ll get this thing offa you.” He pushes you further forward a little way, and then with surprising skill deftly undoes the bunny corset. You don’t want to admit it but the moment the hooks fall away you do feel as if some of the air has returned to your lungs. He’s gently and firmly peeling it away from your body, pulling it down and off of your legs - tutting and stroking the little red marks where the seams and boning have dug into you a little - whether because it was just generally too tight or because you’d been contorted into a slightly awkward position.

“Lord almighty - they doin’ that to you every day?” You shrug, about to say that it wasn’t that much worse than some of your tighter dresses or your panty girdle. He holds it up though, looking at it with distaste, rather than the humour he had the first time he’d seen it off of you - as if seeing it for the first time. “They should make ‘em stretchier! Or - or - a better lining!” He frowns again, “I’m gonna ring Hef and tell him - it’s not right!” You shake your head, the conversation at least distracting you from your lungs.

“Elvis - it’s not like I’m meant to be naked right now. How would you supposedly know.” You gesture down at yourself, a little flushed at the realisation that you were, in fact topless and therefore nude from the waist up. He laughs at you, a little condescendingly.

“You ‘spect me to believe he doesn’t know what you’re up to?” He pauses, “Or that…, bunny, you know, I was, uh, warned that you girls would be… available.” You grimace, it makes you feel like a whore when it’s put like that and you try to return you mind to the point you were trying to make.

“Well, still, if it’s because of me that the boat gets rocked - I like my job, and it was at your request we’re proper bunnies today and not in our flight uniforms!” He rolls his eyes at you, huffing at the accusation.

“Ok, ok. Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You laugh a little, and you notice your chest bobbing with the motion - it makes you suddenly very aware of your nudity, probably a sign that you’re starting to return to normal, and you wrap an arm around your middle while scrambling to sit properly upright instead of in a semi recline. He looks at you sideways, starting to lean down,

“Well - now we got that sorted - “ You cut him off,

“It wasn’t about that - it was just, I just got all caught in my head, I think I’m a little messed up; it happens every now and again. It just - anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Could you, sorry, would you pass me my bag from over there?” You nod towards the bag just inside the door, it had been a little presumptuous perhaps but you’d left it close enough that if you had missed the mark it wouldn’t have been tricky to move or hide it. “I’ll get changed now.” He frowns, he’s sat upright again himself, but doesn’t move for the bag, instead pulling your arm around and dragging you to sit over his legs again - he leans back, pulling your head to lie on his chest.

“Babe - there’s nothing wrong with you… you just gotta, gotta put a little of it into the air, believe it’s happening for a reason.” He pauses, one arm moving up to wrap around your waist, the other stroking your arm, catching on the little cuff that was still there. “You gotta promise you won’t - it’s no secret, not anymore, but I don’t share this with everyone - so you promise you won’t laugh?” You nod, as best you can - he sounds nervous. “My mama, she er, she always used to say I was real special, that I had a gift.” You nod again, assuming this is about to lead into him singing something to you which, while you didn’t think it was going to be key to ending these nerve attacks you keep having, is certainly not something you would discourage. “But, she uh used to say I had the power to heal things, and, and I think its true baby, so will you - maybe if we can; if I can give you some of my ‘nergy and we think about it - real hard - together, we might get somewhere? Just gotta, gotta connect - spiritually. Maybe if I, If I push on you, and we meditate together we might, it might help?” He looks so hopeful and sounds so earnest that, despite your misgivings about the veracity of these claims, you agree.

“Ok, ok - if you think, if it might help. I just, I do wanna do things with you, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You won’t baby, you won’t.” He sits down, cross legged at the top of the bed, pulling you around to sit in front of him. He makes no mention of your nakedness, and you’re doing your best not to notice it yourself. “Ok, honey, so just, I’m gonna put my hands here, and you’re just going to breathe with me ok?” His eyes are bright, and his face open, like he’s simply excited to be able to share this with someone. You nod, placing your hands on top of where his are resting on his thighs. “Hold on baby, let’s get these offa ya too.” And he unbuttons your little cuffs, rubbing your wrists where they’d sat, “You don’t hafta, don’t need to think about anything ok darling? You just sit there, and focus on my hands and match my breathing ok? I’ll do all the hard work.” You nod again, and he shuffles himself a little, as if getting himself ready to settle in. “Oh - and I want you to close your eyes.” You look at him for a second, attempting to gauge that he’s being serious and this isn’t some kind of elaborate set-up. He gazes back at you, blue eyes completely calm, and you let your eyes slip closed. He hums a moment later, and then you feel him clasping your hands.

You can tell he’s focussing his breathing, slowing it down and drawing it out, and you match him as best you can, feeling him spread your fingers and press his palms into yours. It takes all of your attention and sufficiently distracts you from your panic and worry that quickly you don’t realise you’re no longer thinking about anything but the light pressure of his hand on yours and the air filling your lungs.

You’re entirely focussed on his slow, measured breaths, and your mind is blank - it’s almost a surprise when an immeasurable time later he flexes his hands, whispering at you to open your eyes. You come back up slowly, blinking in the artificial light of the plane, despite Elvis having used the dimmer.

Although you do, admittedly, feel better you’re still not wholly convinced by his healing properties. What you are grateful for however, is how happy he looks when you open your eyes, as if pleased to have been given the opportunity. And regardless of the ability to heal you, you also feel like something has changed. A shift in the energy between you.

His hand grasps yours, his fingers releasing you to trail up your wrist, up your forearm, and stroke back down to your palms again, brushing his fingers all the way down to your very fingertips and starting all over again. The motion of it, after the intimacy of the last half hour sends your nerve-endings alight, goosebumps forming over your flesh. You feel completely calm, completely ready for him again, your posture straight but relaxed. He moves his hands further up, brushing against your armpits and you gasp as he tickles you the tiniest amount. Suddenly, you find yourself up on your knees - leaning into him, falling into him. Your hands cupping his face, fingers tangling in his sideburns. He catches you in his relaxed arms, the soft fabric of his jacket rubbing against your nipples. He’s still breathing quite deeply, mouth parted - and it allows you to press your lips against his, tongue rapidly falling into his mouth. His hands spread across your torso, curving around your chest as you lean into him - trying to get as physically close to him as you emotionally feel.

His thumbs twirl in circles and your back arches as your nipples pebble against his soft touch - your pussy suddenly starting to feel unbearably hot in its three layers of tights and panties. You huff against his lips, pulling back to grasp the waistband of them all - determined to simply roll them all down together, saving them from him, and you do so in one motion almost immediately regretting that it left you completely bare while he was still fully clothed. He doesn’t give you a chance for it to be more than a fleeting thought though, lying you back, still focussed on making you breathless with his mouth. He kisses along your cheek to your neck and you gasp as he sucks on the sensitive patch just above where your collar bone joins your shoulder. You try to reciprocate, pushing the jacket off of him and struggling to unbutton the last of his shirt - exposing his chest and stomach. He bats your hand away when you go for the top of his pants, pulling away from you and he stands up - surveying you.

“You ready for me, baby?” You squirm a little under his gaze, and you’re not sure where the boldness comes from to reach a hand down, dragging a finger over your wetness, and spreading the folds of your labia open for him to see the glistening stickiness within.

“I dunno, what do you think?” His mouth gapes at you, breathing heavily, the motion as unexpected to him as it was to you, and as you sink a finger into yourself, moaning while you do, he hurriedly removes his pants - throwing them somewhere, his eyes never straying from your core. He pushes your arm out of the way a moment later,

“Think you look like a goddamn fucking centrefold - Jesus Christ, bunny, Lord, all for me, Halle-fucking-lujah,” He lowers himself back down, pressing a kiss to your chest, pumping himself a few times before lining his cock up with your entrance.

He sinks into you, slowly, letting you feel every inch of him that he guides into you. The slight overhang of his belly pressing against your middle as he holds you close, pressing into you as deeply as he can get. You feel every inch of him, every fold in his skin as he pushes in - you know he’s not huge, but it’s been so long that to have something in you two nights in a row, you can feel your entrance ache a little, and inside a slight burn from the stretch. He groans, feeling your tight walls clench around him as you shift, wrapping your legs around him crossing your ankles behind his back. He pants against your ear, kissing the sensitive patch of skin right behind. He’s encasing you in him, smothering you, the smell of him - he’d clearly showered after his show, the faint hint of neutrogena still clinging to him but his own scent, the mixture of his own musk and woodsy cologne layering over it - surrounds you. It altogether feels as intimate as the meditation did - just his and your bodies entangled together. He rests there, barely rocking into you, slowly, almost tenderly - before dragging himself out, rolling off.

“Gotta let you breathe, mama - wanna get deeper.” The concept seems impossible, but he’s pushing one of you legs to the side, rolling you slightly and clambering on top, straddling your other leg and kneeling down before he’s sinking in again.

“Oh - shit, shit - how’re you, oh my god Elvis, that’s - I’ve never,” He knocks against your walls, blindly, until he hits the little bundle of nerves inside you causing all thoughts to leave your head, unable to form a sentence past whimpering. You prop yourself up with one hand, holding onto him with the other, it’s new for you - to be able to watch someone’s face as well as watch them push themselves into you. Being able to look at his face, his mouth open, little grunts and moans flowing as his eyes half-close in pleasure is mind-blowing; beyond your wildest imagination.

“Oh baby, mama, you’re so - oh god, how are you still so tight, you ain’t been properly broken in yet, have you, fuck,” His hips are thrusting into you now, little jolts of pleasure running down your spine and you whine as he hushes you, rubbing a hand across your tummy, moving it up to grasp at your breast. He squeezes, on the edge of too hard, swiping his thumb across your nipple as he pinches it - causing you to clench down on him again, prompting a low groan out of his own mouth. He strokes down your torso, before resting his hand on you, it feels huge across your stomach, heavy and hot almost feeling like it’s burning through you. He slips his thumb lower, coaxing your clitoris out from hiding.

“Want you to go with me, C’mon now baby - c’mon bun, I’m close,” He slams his hips into you, “Al-most there,” His fingers rub over you a little faster, and your nails of your supporting hand dig into your own hair, the other clutching his arm, as you tumble over the edge, shouting,

“Oh - oh - oh, god, Elvis - daddy, god, fuck that’s - oh god,” You hear him swear, pulling out just in time and spraying over your stomach, his fingers coming off of you, allowing you to come down, your body still trembling for a few moments.

When you feel like you’re properly back on earth, a few minutes later, you’re still lying back, panting, while you hear him stand and get himself wiped off. Coming over to you to gently wipe away the mess on your tummy. He looks over at you, eyes still half-lidded,

“C’mon ‘lil bunny, time to get back to work.” He pats your thighs and you shakily stand up. Despite his hurry he behaves almost unexpectedly gentlemanly and fetches your bag for you from beside the door. “Ain’t gonna make you put that torture device back on - you can do the leather if you want.” You frown, thinking for a moment - everyone will know what you’ve been up to then, but then you laugh to yourself a little - everyone already certainly knows. You pause before getting your underwear back on, slightly surprised at his speed, looking over at him;

“You sure you won’t…don’t wanna go again?” He looks a little bashful for a second,

“ ‘m not, I’m an ole man now baby.” Is all he says in reply, but it does the job in conveying what he meant. You look over at him - not sure that you’d describe him as old, he’s what… 38, 39? But you leave it be - dressing in the little leather coat/wrap dress. As you sit to roll your tights over your legs though he stops you, looking you over. “Bunny? Leave off the hose.”

“Sure daddy, sure.” You obey, stripping them off again and pulling your boots onto your bare legs - undoubtedly you’ll get a blister but it’s worth it for the pleased way he looks at you and the kiss on the top of your head in reward for your obedience. You nip into the bathroom, trying to sort your hair and touch up your make-up, and by the time you’re ready to come out he’s gone.

You walk out with your head up, and while you’re greeted with a series of smirks and some whispers you’re not as panicked about it as before, and you’re relieved he came out before you, positive that he took the brunt of any teasing. He winks at you when you pass him, dressed without his shirt now, but otherwise ignores you. This doesn’t upset you like before - you’re content that only you and him truly know what’s just gone on and that your new, intimate, connection is safe and tucked away just for the two of you. It feels like you’ve been wrapped up in him for days and yet when you look over at the clock ticking away you realise you’ve only been in the air for an hour and a half. You feel a little like you’ve left a tiny part of yourself in that room with him, and that you should feel more vulnerable - more exposed than you do. Instead, you feel calm - your tension almost completely gone and with that you start to feel the possibility that you might actually be able to enjoy the next few hours.

A couple of hours later, you’re dancing in the disco room - providing entertainment although you’re sure most of them, certainly Elvis, should be sleeping; unsure where the burst of energy from everyone has come from. But still, you’re dancing about with the other girls, playfully messing around, when he - from his sat position, lavender tinted glasses now on his nose, pulls you down to whisper in your ear,

“C’mon bunny, give me a little show - pick one of ‘em.” He gestures to the other girls bobbing around you. You look at him, mouth open, a little shocked at his bold request - so different from the sweet, slow, intimate behaviour from earlier. It’s not something you’re totally opposed to, but….in public? It’s as if he’s reading your mind; reassuring you -

“S’ok, baby, s’just us up here - just me and m’boys,” He pats you on the thigh, “Go on - there’s a good girl.” You stumble forward a little and make eye contact with Maggie - who was already looking over, clearly eager to share his attention. You look back over to Elvis, watching him grin at her, pleased that she seems so willing, “Just wanna watch you two kiss honey, nothing more - don’t gotta be that dirty but just… just a little. Just for me.” You nod, steeling yourself. But Maggie isn’t reluctant in any way, threading her fingers through yours to pull you closer. The tie of your leather dress brushes against her bare thigh, still in the bunny corset, and you feel her shudder against you as you step completely into her space.

It’s a little strange, kissing her, different but simultaneously essentially the same. The startling difference was the … niceness of it, it was sweet and slow and gentle. Different from the lip biting and teasing of the men you’d kissed. You forget, for a moment, all the other people in the room, it’s narrowed to just the three of you although really you’re putting on a show for everyone, and you open your eyes - watching Elvis watch you. Despite Maggie’s lips on yours - her soft body still pressed against you - your focus is solely on him. His eyes are burning into you, and his legs are spread, thighs thick and inviting. You put a little more effort in, grasping her hair, rubbing down her back, and you listen to him huff a little chuckle when you jokingly squeeze her tail, and slot your leg between hers. You keep eye contact behind her head, watching him swallow, shifting a little to rub a hand over himself - completely unabashed at doing so in front of everyone. The sight of him sat there, looking like a sultan surveying his harem, blue eyes serious and intense, makes your eyes slip closed, and you put all your focus into the feeling of being watched and being kissed. You pull away, laughing as you both sway a little from the force of coming apart - you look over at him;

“That alright Da-El?” He beams at you,

“Perfect girls - so goddamn perfect.” He pats his thigh, the outline of his hardening cock almost completely visible, “Why don’t you come over here bunnies, let me have a better look.” You both do as he asks, giggling, as you tumble together onto his lap. It’s messier now, more fun, her hands scrabbling down your sides, and yours cupping her cheeks. You feel so hyper from it all that you almost feel drunk. His hand moves to support your lower back as you lean across to kiss Maggie again, giggling a little against her lips as she almost tips backwards until his arm catches her.

“God, men fucking dream about this dolls - two little bunnies sat in their laps. But this is just for me ain’t it? Just for me?” His head is tipped back, but he swings it forward to look at you both - intensely, possessively. How a man could be possessive over two women he’d only known 48 hours, on a plane he didn’t even own, was mind-boggling - the sheer confidence required for that kind of thought overwhelming. Yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it, your own head nodding insistently to reassure him. Maggie looks askance at you, but still rapidly nods - the slight lie going unnoticed. His thigh flexes and where you’ve leant forward has hitched your tiny skirt up high enough that you’re now entirely sat feeling the soft fabric encasing his thigh underneath you rub against your bare legs. You can’t help but rock against it, just the tiniest amount. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you three, and instead of the shame you expected to feel, your stomach tightens in arousal at the sensation of being watched. He lets out a little moan, and it only makes you work harder, slipping your tongue into Maggie’s mouth as she pants against your lips. You feel Elvis’ hand slide up your body to the side of your ribcage, his thumb brushing your breast. You pull back, and he gasps as you stroke the outside of his soft trouser leg, gently rubbing the fabric over his cock. Elvis abruptly stands, pushing you both off.

“Think there might be some important business I need to do in Hef’s office. Why don’t you two run along ahead - gonna need,” he looks sideways, jokingly, playing it up for your forgotten audience, “gonna need a couple of helping hands.” You give what can only be described as a polite smile, wondering what on earth has gotten into you that you were willing to display yourself like that in public. But for whatever reason you’re walking back into the bedroom again - this time following behind Maggie. You’re watching her from behind, and though you’ve seen her in uniform countless times you’re suddenly left wondering if her shape has always looked that inviting to grab - or if the teddy had always revealed so much of her ass. She seems far more at home in Hugh’s private quarters than you ever did the first time, and you realise suddenly that it’s very probable this isn’t her first time back here with a guest. The realisation shoots a burst of anxiety through you again, that you try to immediately brush away, that this whole thing really was just expected of you.

Elvis shuts the door behind him when he comes in, immediately setting the mood lighting. Before resting his hand on your back and pulling you in for a quick kiss. It’s strange kissing him again now, you expect for some reason his lips to feel rough in comparison to Maggie’s, masculine instead of her soft femininity, but as always his lips are full and buttery soft a perfect representation of the juxtaposition of his personality. He pulls away too soon and you find yourself leaning into him, eyes still closed, chasing the sensation, pouting when he laughs at you.

“You good to go honey, or do you need a hand givin’ me a show?” You’re confused by what he’s offering, until you notice he’s holding out his hand two little pills sat in it. “Just vitamins baby,” You shake your head, you’re a little nervous but despite the environment you’re working in you’ve not taken anything yet, and the concept of it scares you more than your nerves. You’re surprised though when Maggie’s hand comes from nowhere, plucking one of them out of his palm and swallowing it dry. He beams at her, “Atta girl.” Maggie giggles at him,

“Thank you daddy,” and he glances over at you, sideways, again before swallowing the leftover pill.

He claps his hands, before suddenly, playfully, throwing you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You’re shocked at the display of physicality - not expecting it at all, and even more surprised when a moment later Maggie is thrown in much the same manner, bumping onto the bed and knocking into you. He settles himself up by the cushions, looking expectantly at the pair of you of you sprawled out and he gestures to the rest of the bed. He shifts, settling his hands on his open thighs, the hard outline of his cock almost completely visible through his pants. He clenches them into fists, like he’s trying not to touch. He looks, with his hair wild and his glasses on, so classically - typically Elvis that it makes your heart rate increase just watching him.

“Go on then, pretty little bunnies - wanna see you two - wanna see you havin’ fun. Give me a show.” It’s not a request but a command, and even if you’d wanted to (which you didn’t) you can’t do anything but obey.

Maggie responds with a “Yes, sir,” as you move to situate yourself, kneeling at the bottom of the bed and she crawls over to meet you. This time she takes control, kissing you, her hands moving over the little leather coat-dress. It feels different having her lithe, nylon covered leg pushing in between yours instead of Elvis’ thick thigh. You wouldn’t go so far to say it’s better, but the friction against your thin panties and the way it allows your legs and thighs to stay fairly close, to clench and move is appealing. You can’t help but rock against her, clutching at her waist - she laughs into your mouth, pulling your hair a little as she presses gentle kisses down your neck. You gasp, head falling back, before you pull away to lean forward again, catching her face between your hands, you rub against her, drawing her front back towards you - you giggle, whispering,

“Mags’ I can’t - can’t believe we’re doing this...” Elvis chuckles behind you, clearly you weren’t as quiet as you thought, and that makes you laugh harder. It’s fun and flirty and you haven’t felt this chill about something in a while - the ability to just zone out and enjoy the sensations without having to worry about the future. You start to unbelt your dress, trying to move quickly - frantically, and as soon as you’ve got it unbuttoned Maggie is palming at you, pushing it down your shoulders. She moves forward a little more, and you lean back - letting Elvis get a better look at your newly uncovered skin. She moves her hand to brush against your panty-covered mound and you gasp. Your head falling forward onto her shoulder at the feel, so different from your own fingers or his thick digits, she moves her leg and you’re suddenly humping against nothing - you whine into the air, Elvis interrupting you as you try to pull her back.

“Sl-slow down girls, get tha’ dress off and go a lil’ slower - there’s no rush. No need to rush now - just slow - slow it down.” You nod trying to still your hips, gasping out,

“Ok, ok, daddy - well - we’ll slow -ah- down,” and Maggie pushes you, both of you tumbling backwards. You roll for a moment, the silk of Maggie’s costume rubbing against your skin, the coolness a welcome relief to your burning skin. You suddenly catch, out of the corner of your eye, Elvis shifting, his arm moving at a rapid pace and you don’t know why, considering what you’re currently doing, you’re shocked to realise he has his cock out, that he’s touching himself watching you. You accidentally make eye contact, and you’re taken aback by the look on his face, his lip curling in pleasure. To be watched with such burning desire is shocking, and would be enough to make you shy had you not had this overwhelming sexual confidence come over you from somewhere. You absently think that you should probably help Maggie out of her corset, the pufftail isn’t comfortable to lie in and she was probably wishing for more breathability right now, but before you can offer she’s stroking a finger down you and all thoughts fly out of your head. She looks up at Elvis, questioning something that you can’t hear through your single-minded tunnel vision and hearing, but you manage to catch his reply;

“No - no, just - just, just over top, honey, not - no, that’s just for me.” And she resumes to touching you over the top of the growing dampness of your panties, you groan at the sheer level of objectification; at being spoken about as if you were just there for his amusement, that you were his. Maggie renews her efforts though, and her fingers quickly, even over the soft cotton fabric of your underwear, find the spot to make you squirm, hips bucking into her. She soothes you, and you wonder if you should be reciprocating in some way but as her delicate fingers push the tiniest fold of fabric into you, you’re lost clutching at the fur throw, the slight friction easing as it gathers up your slick. She moves her finger to circle around your clit, bunching the fabric between her thumb and fingers and rubbing it against you. You somehow manage to blink open your eyes, leaning your head all the way back to look at Elvis; his entire focus is on what’s happening between your legs - it causes a shudder to run through you, and your stomach tightens as you feel your legs start to cramp;

“Go on baby, hold it for me, hold it - don’t - want you to keep her just there for me - that’s it. Stop stop, that’s just for me.” She pulls her hand away and your back arches as whine, so close to the edge.

He leans in gripping Maggie’s neck to kiss her and you can hear the wet smack of their lips together, he pulls back, briefly “Don’t worry, honey, don't wanna make you jealous…just wanna say thank you for such a lovely show - that’s alright isn’t it?” You can’t do anything but agree and he returns to her, hands on her neck and head to hold her in place. Watching it up close you can understand why he wanted to watch himself, you wonder if that’s what you look like with him too; all teeth and tongue and lips. You squirm, still feeling the possibility of your orgasm.

“Now go on, there’s a good girl, run along now, thank you darling - You gonna be alright? You want me to get one of the boys to uh, see to ya properly?” She shakes her head, almost fondly as if laughing that she might need his help to find a willing partner. “Well - You tell ‘em I said it’s ok.” He sends her on her way like he’s pimping her out for the night, you hate how it makes your core throb a little, and you can’t help but glow at being the very obviously chosen one; not just one night but two in a row. Maggie looks back at you, still lying on the fur throw, winks and leaves - sauntering through the door. When she’s gone Elvis turns back to you, rubbing sweeping circles on your stomach,

“Just wanna get you goin’ again for me,” His hand starts to trail down, and you don’t know what’s come over you but you put your own out - grasping his wrist to stop him wanting him to know;

“Daddy, I’ve never - that was my first time with,” He laughs,

“Oh, honey, I know, I know. Did you like it?” You nod, and he laughs again, “I’ll bring my camera next time baby, can’t believe Hef’s not got one installed in here somewhere. What a waste.” He tries to move but you hold his hand where it is, causing him to look calculatingly over you, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I…” You squirm under the pressure of his gaze and the tone of his voice.

“C’mon bunny, tell me what you want.” You nod, a bit nervous - but you had stopped his hand for a reason.

“Could you, would you… you know.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he responds,

“No, sorry, I don’t.” You whine,

“Ugh - would you, with your tongue?”

“Ohh - you want me to go back down on you? Have another taste of that sweet yittle bunny cunt?” You wriggle at his harsh wording mixed with his babying tone, but you frantically nod. He grins, taking his glasses off and throwing them somewhere on the bed.

“Well ain’t today just my lucky day.” He manhandles you into a better position, ripping your underwear off, pushing you against the cushions and shoving one underneath your hips - moving to situate himself between your thighs. He wiggles like a cartoon about to be served at a restaurant - almost certainly to make you laugh and you comply, nervously giggling, mind preoccupied with hoping that you taste alright now that you’ve asked for it. He spreads you open, kissing your inner thigh before moving closer to your core, and you can feel yourself pulse with anticipation.

He tentatively licks you, just a gentle, wet stripe and you immediately gasp - eyes flying wide open, startled at how sensitive you already felt. Although it shouldn’t come as any surprise, you’d been slick and swollen since you’d fucked earlier, and a bit sore since last night. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, and moves his fingers in to keep you spread open. Your hips buck of their own accord when he wets his lips and blows cold air onto you, watching you squirm and clench in response. You can feel his smile before he concentrates again his tongue lapping at your entrance. Your legs come up, needing more support to better grind onto him and your hands move down to grip his hair, thumbs digging into the side of his face, his sideburns, while your fingers find purchase in his long strands, gently holding him in place. He renews his efforts, flicking his tongue in your inner folds and he moves one of his hands to brace your stomach down as he moves to lick directly over your clit - your hips thrusting up enough in response for you to understand the necessity of his hand holding you down. You didn’t realise you could become addicted to the feel of something so quickly, but you’re not sure you’re going to be able to live without someone, preferably him, doing this to you regularly. The warm wet pressure builds, and on top of where you were already on the edge it’s quickly building to be almost too much. He pulls back just as you think you’re about to go over the edge and you groan, but he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick.

“Oh god - is that, is that me on you?” He grins,

“Sure is baby, sweetest honey from my honey bun-bun.” He licks his lips, and you groan again, your tummy flipping from how close you still feel,

“Elvis - Daddy - need you, need more,” He leans back down, whispering, crooning in babytalk to your pussy;

“Oh baby, baby, poor little, yittle, baby bunny - daddy’s gonna take real good care of you now, no more games baby, no that’s right, gonna get you right there,” He presses his lips to your clit kissing it, nose buried in you. Your entire focus is on the sensations as he moves down to spear his tongue into you, so different from a finger or cock and you almost choke from the force of the puff of air you exhale, as he curls it just so; you didn’t even know it was possible to do that and you wonder how much practice at this he really has.

You can’t bear to look down at him anymore, the sight of his long lashes brushing against you, reminding you of who it was between your legs, watching you almost too much and you throw your head back, eyes closing as he thrusts his tongue in and out. He moves to add his thumb in, rubbing over your clit as his tongue continues to do its job, soothingly licking where you’re sore around the entrance to your hole. Your stomach tightens as he maintains a steady pace and you clench around him, thighs coming to rest on either side of his head, as you rock on his tongue and fingers. It’s not long, only moments when the pressure and movement get you there, body jumping as you crest over the wave of your orgasm. He licks you through it, and it means you just keep going. It’s overwhelming, and not something you’ve experienced before, the extended shaking and shuddering as you jolt around, jumping with every fizzle of pleasure. Finally, he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again, panting as you force your body to relax.

A minute or so later you’re able to sit up a little more, opening your eyes properly again. You look over at Elvis and he’s got his cock in his hand - you’re tired but you feel like you have to show him some kind of appreciation for the best orgasm of your life so you lean up on your elbows, reaching a hand down to join his, you pump it once or twice before whispering to him,

“Let me Daddy,” and you sink your mouth down onto him. He gasps in surprise swearing

“Lord hav- oh god baby, bunny, oh shit.” as you hum around him, swallowing. He was clearly already very close and it only takes a couple of moments in the hot, wet, pressure of your mouth and throat before he’s warning you,

“Gonna, it’s, I’m gonna go off baby, it’s - I’m close, real fu-cking close.” And with that he thrusts once, twice, while you hollow your cheeks - sucking down hard and that’s all it takes for him to be spurting into your mouth. You flinch, surprised, despite his warning, at the speed the taste unexpected, but still you swallow it down. “Fuck - fuck, thank you bunny, thank you.” He’s sweet, offering more gratitude than you’ve ever received from a man. You kiss his tip as you pull away and once again fall onto your back. You lie back, panting, and he joins you, curling around you - cuddling into you for the first time since you started this whole thing. You roll into him, enjoying being cradled in his thick arms, trying to comprehend the events of the past forty eight hours and how you’re going to be returning back to your normal life in only another few hours, wondering what Maggie chose to do, when he starts to talk, fingers tracing circles on your arms.

“You know - my daddy’s - I got ‘im buyin’ me my own jet.” Your brow furrows a little, unsure where he’s going with this - “I uh, I - you’ll still have a cute little outfit, I like - like to dress ma girls up but, but I promise it’ll be … stretchy and uh, I won’t - I won’t assume anything but - but I sure would like it if you, you would come on board with me?” He perhaps should have stopped there but he keeps talking, “It also - it would mean more time together, bunny, fewer girls around. Well…fewer in uniform anyway.” You grimace a little - so what is he suggesting; you be his on call plane whore? You hate that you want it, hate that you’re so desperate for him, in any way you can have him - to whatever capacity he’s available that you’re going to agree.

“Of course - that would, that would be a dream come true Elvis, I would love to,” You’re not entirely stupid though. You smile at him, agreeing but not believing - this happens all the time in the clubs too; men promising things that never materialise - the drunker they get the more outlandish the claims; cars, houses, vacations, jobs. You know of too many girls who quit because they were promised a job as someone’s secretary only for the role to never materialise to put too much stock into his question. Besides, you still have two more flights with Elvis already in Big Bunny’s calendar - you were sure there’s more than enough time for him to make the offer again if he was really serious.

“Wha-what’s your schedule like?… You got a boyfriend?” You pause, uncertain where this is going, surely these were questions that should have been asked yesterday? You suddenly realise that you know he’s seeing someone if only from the overheard phone-call but that you also had no idea if you were turning into the other woman or something. Or if you were just a girl to pass the time with.

“I - uh, no. No, no-one. I’m not, we’re kept quite busy…” He frowns, kissing the top of your shoulder,

“Would you, you could come watch a show if you, I’ll get tickets for you and the girls if you want?” You smile,

“That would be lovely, thank you -” He continues,

“You could come a little earlier if you wanted, I’m playing somewhere new tomorrow, well - uh,” he looks over at the clock, grimacing, “Today. So I gotta check the sound and things, you could come to the rehearsal? I want you there baby,” You register some shock at his last words but nod, agreeing, it sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime and you go to say it but you suddenly realise, from the little puffing breaths on your shoulder he’s fallen asleep practically mid-sentence. You look around for the clock, before you, with some wonder, discover there’s still ninety minutes left of the flight and close your own eyes too. The others can do the stewarding, you’re doing the main job - keeping Elvis happy.

#be my ally #be-my-ally #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #70s elvis fanfic #big bunny #big daddy elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you

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woso-fan13 · 1 year

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Masterlist

Updated: 10 August 2023

USWNT

Make A Wish

The 3 P's

Everything is Going Swimmingly

Syrup & Strollers

Sleepless Sleepovers

Directions

Even if You're Little, You Can Do a Lot

What's In a Name?

Peanuts & Paramedics

Roadtrip

Roadtrip Part 2

Stuffed Rabbits & Regression

It's Not Drugs (At Least Not The Ones You're Thinking)

Everything Was Not Fine

New Year’s Eve

Adventures in Lelavators

Concussions and Cuddles

Baby Bunny

Catching Flights (And Also so Many Feelings)

It’s Fantastic

Fevers & Favorites

Trouble

Rough Day

WOSO

A Pale Face and Red Circles on your Cheeks

I Don't Really Know, But She Seems Fine

This is a Nightmare

WHUMPTOBER 2022

Number 1: A Little Out Of The Ordinary

Number 2: Nowhere To Run

Number 3: Hair's Breadth From Death

Number 4: Dead On Your Feet

Number 5: Every Whumpee's Needs

Number 6: Proof Of Life

Number 7: The Way You Shake And Shiver

Number 8: Everything Hurts And I'm Dying

Number 9: The Very Noisy Night

Number 10: Poor Unfortunate Souls

Number 11: 911, What's Your Emergency

Number 12: What Could Go Wrong?

Number 13: Can't Make An Omelette Without Breaking A Few Legs

Number 14: Die A Hero Or Live Long Enough To Become A Villain

Number 15: Emotional Damage

Number 16: No Way Out

Number 17: Hanging By A Thread

Number 18: Let's Break The Ice

Number 19: Enough Is Enough

Number 20: It's Been A Long Day

Number 21: Famous Last Words

Number 22: Pick Your Poison

Number 23: At The End Of Their Rope

Number 24: Fight, Flight, Or Freeze

Number 25: Silence Is Golden

Number 26: No One Left Behind

Number 27: Pushed To The Limit

Number 28: It's Just The Tip Of The Iceberg

Number 29: What Doesn't Kill Me

Number 30: Note To Self: Don't Get Kidnapped

Number 31: A Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Sicktember 2022

‘Do You Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person?’

Homesick

Painkillers

Hangover

'Great. Now I Have Your Germs All Over Me.’

Sick on Vacation

A Cry for Attention

Intense Coddling

Home Remedy

Excessive Use of Tissues

Emergency Room

Stress Induced Illness

Pet Allergies

‘I Might Be A Teeny Tiny Bit Sick, But It’s Fine.’

Frostbite

Care Package

Syncope/Fainting

Upset Stomach

Whining/Crying

Cold Sweat

‘Does this look infected to you?’

Common Cold/Flu

Tepid Bath

‘I Need You To Pull Over!’

Taking a Sick Day

Tickle in the Throat

Sleepless Night/s

Chronic Illness

Lethargy/Exhaustion

‘Get Back in Bed!’

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt woso #uswnt imagine #uswnt players #uswnt reader #woso x reader #reader insert #woso imagine #woso soccer #womens soccer #woso #masterlist

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thelovelybitten · 4 months

Text

more loonatics headcanons / shenanigans...

i've been on such a binge watch of lu that I just need to post abt it okay leave me alone

BUT I'VE NOTICED THINGS !!! (this is s2 ep4) !! you kind of get an insight of what they all like to do and things they enjoy with these bedroom stills.

ACE:

obviously: likes carrots, cute lil bunny.

HIS LIL DOORMAT DJSNGJSDNJK

i couldn't zoom in enough to see what's on his monitor but you know he likes to watch shows before bed. relatable content.

the fact he's got two side tables as well gives me eating in his bed vibes but also he'd be clean abt it. i also think he'd be a big comic book reader. not sure what, but he would be. I'll let y'all decide.

speaking on that, there's a shelf with books on the far right so yeah. i think he'd also read manga bc of his anime complex. he may also keep some sort of CDs ? maybe vinyls ???

i know this man keeps katanas and a dartboard in his room.

he's a snowboarder !!!! THAT'S SO COOL. he must be a god bc this man is AGILE.

he's got a skyline view PHEWWWWW rich ass mf

also. an aquarium on his right (our left) which is so fun I wonder what kinds of marine life they'd keep!!!

I'm also not sure what the compartment behind his head is for but I think its a closed-off bookshelf or space for his knick-knacks. i also see a fireplace too but idk how logical that is lol

LEXI:

NOW WHY SHE SLEEPING IN A HAMMOCK WHEN THE GIRLIE COULD HAVE A QUEEN SIZED BED ??? she's quirky like that ig. whatever makes her comfy. (I know she'd upgrade, I just know. just bc she can sleep anywhere doesn't mean she's always comfortable.)

a phone/pager by her bed is so real

THE WALLPAPER IS BEACHY IT'S SO CUTE

she's a SKIIER AND A SURFER. WHAT CAN'T SHE DO. (seasickness who)

cabinet obvi for storage, idk why she'd have anything important in there besides old childhood items it's so high up???

lower shelves are for books and things maybe. or video games.

AND DO YOU SEE THE AQUARIUM ??? THIS CONFIRMS THAT LEXI AND ACE HAVE NEIGHBOURING BEDROOMS AND NO ONE CAN CHANGE MY MIND. there has to be some type of barrier/wall between the two tanks for privacy reasons but I'M DEAD GNFDGNDJKFNJDFNKHK MY BABIES

opposing skyline views so iconic... i know she takes mad insta pictures (or duck takes them) to get good sunset shots

i believe the items on the table are her laptop, a makeup bag andddd maybe a clutch purse? just a guess bc they're so tiny.

laptop makes sense. it'd be hard but she could still try to get an education on the side??? lots of work for a girl but she's a boss like that.

makeup for obvious reasons

clutch purse for nights out

SLAM:

THE WAY I'D BE SO SCARED FOR THAT WEIGHT TO DROP ON MY HEAD. SLAM IS A TROOPER WTF

I remember sumth abt that cylinder thingy on the left but I can't remember what it's for yet. will update when the ep comes.

MANS IS AN INTELLECTUAL !! those are all comic books (like ace, they bond) and language workbooks.

the poster of pizza is SO REAL OF HIM

there's a teeny tiny chute beside his door and I wonder what it's for. maybe it's a scanner? idk

light above his head is also...a choice.

i'd like to think that the things at the end of his bed are air purifiers and that slam has some sort of breathing issue when he goes to sleep. maybe he grinds his jaw or is a mouth breather;;;

computer for gaming tings and other endeavours

A WHOLE ASS TREADMILL YEAH BUDDY U STAY IN SHAPE.

i know this man doesn't have a WHOLE ASS DRUMSTICK IN HIS BED. but makes sense. he totally eats in bed BUT IS MESSY ABT IT. duck and lexi HATE IT IT'S NASTY HAHAH they ask him to switch his sheets and vacuum almost everyday

DUCK:

THIS MAN IS SO CONCEITED I CAN'T Y'ALL.

but like ace, he also has a tv by his bed I know he and lexi would watch romcoms together

K-DRAMAS???? SPECIFICALLY SINGLES INFERNO (only bc s3 just came out, it's on the brain) duck just boasts abt how he's better looking than all of the other males while lexi is very much about the relationships/drama

his little peek-a-boo window behind his head is so cute :"))))

I have no god damn clue what that thing is beside him on the left but I'm sure it's important

but he wears headphones to sleep !!! must need white noise or rain to sleep

control panel for his lights and other digitally controlled shit in his room

THIS MAN HAS SO MANY MAGAZINES AND NEWSPAPER ARTICLES ABOUT HIMSELF AND THE LOONATICS (but only bc he is in them, thank yew) I also think he'd carry a lot of fashion magazines too. things that are in. the second a fad ends he's done w it

I'm assuming this is an arcade game setup, but i think he'd love Mario kart :) him and tech love to battle on this but move it to the main room bc duck thinks tech is cheating bc "the screen is two small".

i know this man would sleep with mf silk sheets and a fleece comforter he's a bougie bitch

computer for obvious reasons

REV:

i had to include all four shots bc he is a sleepwalker/runner LOOK AT HOW CUTE HE IS ;U;

it looks like he sleeps in a casket-like bed (hence, the lid is open top centre) I believe he only has this open when he's awake so idk who forgot to close it. it needs to be closed so that when rev does actually get up and sleepwalks, he's contained. the last thing the loonatics want to wake up to is the house completely trashed bc rev had a dream he was running from something. so casket bed it was.

that's also why. he doesn't sleep with sheets. if he trips and falls oh lord. therefore he wears super warm pjs in the winter to not freeze to death

he's got a ton of books, rightfully so, I think he and tech would share this bookcase because it would have different manuals, blueprints and miscellaneous mechanical guides. robot guides. that too. i also think rev would be that person who re-reads his childhood books over and over again and not get sick of them ever

there is also a treadmill in this room I just know it

a tv as well. idk where, but I hc it's there.

TECH:

thanks for giving me nothing to work with here

I kind looked forward into the ep and there's a smidge of the bedroom in a frame but idk what the other shit could be

but I know his room is very clean. it's SPOTLESS. everything is organized and well put together.

I'm going to ignore the fact he suckles his thumb bc this man is 24 years old BYE

there's a whole bunch of ai robots in there to do anything he wants.

he is also the other loonatic who has their own bathroom. he only got it bc he won the straw draw. well, ace won technically, but gave it to tech bc he was the oldest and would keep it in the best shape. duck still hasn't forgiven him for it.

he shares it with lexi since she's the only lady in the house :) ain't no way she shares with the boys.

the others share the other bathroom. one more gets installed later but the other four are SOL

tech also has a nice walk-in closet

he needs to take melatonin b4 bed bc this man is noctournal

has drones scattered on shelves, ones he's built and ones he's collected from professors and other inventors

AAAAND THAT'S IT. THANKS FOR COMING TO ANOTHER TED TALK LOL I'MMA GO FINISH S2 XOXO

#faves: lu #loonatics unleashed #viv speaks #looney tunes #loonatics headcanons #nah i popped off #i love my kids to BITS IDC.#i have so many more hcs AAAAAA #my brain is a wormhole of knowledge #i hate hyperfixating on things but i love them at the same time lol #anywayyyys i'll be back most likely haha #xoxoxo

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scoonsalicious · 11 days

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hi pookie its meee🩷🩷

I just wanna tell im sorry that i havent been spamming lately😂. Part of it is because im busy preparing for my sis engagement day which is tomorrow (WHO KNEW ENGAGEMENT WOULD BE VERY CHAOTIC?!)

Unwanted updates has been my alarm clock early in the morning (around 6-8)😂. Usually I would wake up at 12 in the afternoon but since then, early it is.

Somehow my brain knows when you’ll update.

OKKAY Let’s rewind to chpter 23. Of all things… SHEAR A SHEEP?!😂😂😂😂 Thinking about it, I might actually do it too😂 Tony and Pocket clicked right away. I love their dynamic. He cares for her since the beginning and for someone like Pocket, she needs him. That chapter is wholesome.

Next, even if it’s only 1 part, we got to see Sam and Pocket in action and I can’t wait for more. Sam calling himself dark chocolate is just😂😂😂😂. Also a glimpse of Pocket’s childhood/backstory😔 She’s a tough one which makes me even more worried. The ‘plan’. Buying drugs from Kozlov sounds BAD. This makes me think that they will force her to take some kind of new drugs that made her really vulnerable and kidnapped her. (and i really REALLY think, will be the work of fucker cunthage).

Last but not least, I miss Bucket😂 I miss his stupid head. I cant wait for him to be the knight in shining armor, saving his beloved Pocket and beat the shit out of Jeremiah. I trust Pookie will build him to the manly man he needed to be.

Anyways, as always, loads of love for u Pookie. Ur work r the best.😭🩷 I cant wait for the upcoming new story.🔥

Hi, Bestie!!! I love getting your messages! And no need to apologize, because 1) they are *never* spam, and 2) you're busy! Congratulations to your sister, by the way! I hope she has a very long, happy, and healthy marriage! I'm glad I can be your personal alarm clock, lol; though, if I could sleep until noon, that's all I'd be doing! So, the shearing a sheep thing-- I was having a convo with @mrsbuckybarnes1917 and was talking about how I think RDJ and I could be besties, just hanging out and shooting the shit and going on ridiculous adventures, then I was like "he seems like the kind of guy I could shear a sheep with in the middle of the night." And BOOM! An origin story was born! It ended up working out better than I expected. I love writing them together so very much. He really is the solid foundation of her life, and if not for him, who knows where she'd be right now?

Sam calling himself 'Dark Chocolate' was loosely based on Marshall from How I Met Your Mother calling himself 'Big Fudge.' I dunno, as I was writing, I just saw Sam saying it, and I was like 'Bingpot!'

I miss Bucket, too. He has a teeny, tiny over-the-phone cameo in the next part, but they won't be 'on screen' again together until Chapter 25. I should have kept them apart for longer, honestly, but I couldn't resist.

Three parts coming out today, since they're all relatively short, and I'll be leaving you on a bit of cliff hanger to start your weekend. In the meantime, I'm off to work on With Friends Like These which, part way through chapter four, is already 19.5k words. Brevity is not my strong suit, apparently, lol.

As always, Pookie loves you so much, and the cat-kiss gifs give me life! There's nothing I love more than a kitten smooch!

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hyperfreaksating · 3 months

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On the topic of Rory and affection: I actuall think you do a good job of showing Rory cares for his family and loves them despite his resting bitch face and antisocial tendencies. Your last comic update where Blaze is just all ❤️💕❤️💕❤️ towards Red but Blaze sits there with his Bomb and the teeny … ♥️ . Like „Hmm yes I do like this „affection“. Yes, one more dose of maternal pride please.“

I also noticed that with Buggy. In your comic where he has a nightmare, Buggy’s horror at what fucked up existential horror his kid dreams of was played for laughs, but I still found it rather sweet that Rory actually TOLD Buggy he had a bad dream. I can’t imagine he ever expected Buggy to understand what he talked about, but it still evokes the feeling that he sees his dad as someone he can trust. Not necessarily someone he can tell everything too, because that kid is just that closed off, but I feel like he’s the type of person who’d keep stuff like this more closely to himself and wouldn’t give someone „ammo“ for mockery or exploitation of a weakness.

Also that one image of Buggy doing the dad snore with tiny Rory. Super cute. Also feels like he does actually see his father as a safe haven in some way. Especially since the snoring seems like something that would actually wake him up and he would complain about. Maybe it’s white noise for him.

(God on that note imagine Rory having his first night away from his family, maybe he goes on shore into an inn for a short while, while his family is still on board and he inwardly is exited because he FINALLY will have a night away from his loud, snoring brother and his sister, who either fights or holds nonsensical conversations in her sleep. Wonderful! Finally a night of peace and quiet. Smashcut to him at 3 am, in complete silence, staring at the ceiling with with wide open eyes „…. By god this is unbearable.“)

HAAAAANW thank you so much ç.ç for the sweet comment on my writing and for noticing everything I try to put here and there to bring the character to life!

Concerning the headcanon you dropped at the end that's 100% true to me. (I think that Rory is one to talk because he's the one talking in his sleep - and his sister takes notes of everything. She, on the other hand, sleep wakes and when Rory notices he follows her to check she don't fall in the sea and also tell her the details of her wandering. That's a weird bond they have, half bullying, half carrying, the kind of thing you only have when you shared a whomb with someone. Anyway.)

Especially since Rory started hearing voices at puberty. Pure silence must be insufferable to him because it leaves him alone with them.

On this topic and the topic of "Rory and affection" let me bring back this old doodle to you.

Rory don't really like hugs but whenever he has crisis it's one of the few occasions he needs them. His mom is the only one who can help him to anchor back when all of this started. Vernes help a lot, too. Years later Skye will also be one of the few people he trusts enough for that.

Also love your headcanon that blaze inherited Buggy's snoring sounds. Validated. That's canon. (He fights against his blanket in the night too, thanks the gods for making him aroace because sleeping in his bed must be a nightmare)

#buggy the clown #redbomb chronicles #redbomb family #redbomb triplets #one piece #one piece oc #one piece au #buggy fankids #fankids #anon answered #ask sid glorious

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mschismosa · 12 days

Text

Non art related life update: I'm in the process of moving & I finally get to see my unit rn! I'm annoyingly anxious about everything so im very nervous about new neighbors/pests/safety etc.. I'm gonna spend the whole evening obsessively cleaning and move in over this next week. I haven't even picked up the keys yet. I'm so so excited but also a little teeny bit filled w dread lol.

The thought of doodling hmmk when i get home is keeping me going agh

#txt #chisme

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cavernfullofexistentialdread · 2 months

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My Updated Agent HCs (since I’ve now learned a bunch about side order)

LONG POST AHEAD!!

(also not double checked the spelling and stuff sorry not sorry)

Captain 3

Their name is Shinji and they go by They/He/She, 20 years old

Often refereed to as “Cap” or “Jiji” if your close to him

She’s from the GOOD OL COUNTRY SIDE and never truly got used to the city. One of the reasons they were slow to make friends their age and didn’t mind going down a suspicious drain.

Even to this day he doesn’t feel like he belongs. But now it’s mainly due to the fact her special charge up is WEIRDLY fast and they now have a massive ahh scar on their face from the sanitization

They know about the spire but to a very limited extent, Marina shared some early demos of it to him and she was very impressed but at the same time super confused (sucks at technology)

Has no idea any of spire is happening and just knows 8 went to go on their own personal mission, thinks 4 is just up to the usual

Hasn’t actually caught up with her fellow agents in a while and is looking for an opportunity to do so

Was relieved they got an official weapon supplier (Sheldon) but despise the fact it had to be THE MACHINE YAPPER. But begrudgingly is eternally grateful for someone like Sheldon

Very active in the squidbeak splatoon but from time to time visits Plaza and Splatsville. They don’t like going to Square because it reminds them how behind with the trends they are despite only being 20. However enjoys visiting 4 and 8!!

Is VERY formal and refers to everyone except Callie and Marie as their agent numbers. Calls Deep Cut (and sometimes joking 4) “Marie’s lackey” or “Lackey (insert number)”

If she refers to someone by their real name that person knows their FUCKED

Doesn’t know he’s cool AF and is trying to reconnect with people their age. She overcompensates just a teeny tiny bit. Ends up intimidating a lot of new people she talks to. So their often the stoic, quietly supportive type.

Makes the rest of SquidBeak train with her. IT’S INTENSE. But she’s trying to be softer okay? Gets tips from 8 and Marina on how to be less… scary

Secretly admires and cherishes every other agent for one reason or another. Admires 4’s charisma and chill, appreciate 8’s honesty and kindness despite what the world has given her, and silently adores 3.5 like a little sibling

Has got groovy moves and is the ultimate dancer. THEY’VE GOT THAT BOOGY IN THEM. But has like… 0 motivation to do anything but sit around unless you give her a good reason.

Agent 4

His name is Soule and uses He/They, transmasc non-binary. AND HE’s FEELING 22-

Actually Cap’s cousin but they both have no idea lol. Grew up in a small town near the farm Cap was from. They talked occasionally but kept in touch. Cap told them if he wanted to find her to go down the first suspicious drain he saw

No nicknames beside 4 and “Marie Lackey #1”, is a “Grown ass man” and a “WOMAN IN STEM!!” At the same time

Just finished Undergrad!!! Moved to Inkopolis for college (engineering degree) and was surprised how fun city life was. Super into fashion and keeping up with the next big thing. He likes to tease Cap about how behind with the times they are.

Is super chill, goes with the flow. Happily enables Callie’s chaos and always has enough energy to come up with a silly jab or witty quip. Has the personality of spider man. Besides that their just a chill dude working up to repay student loans through turf wars and Grizzco (well maybe not Grizzco anymore)

Had a MASSIVE growth spurt between 2 and 3. Used to be the shortest (at least before Neo) but now is the tallest. Plus the clunky ahh boots add even more height. Had to get new hero gear and decided that safety matters and got actual knee and knee pads as their very sloppy and chaotic when it comes to combat

Isn’t active in the squidbeak splatoon but casually hangs out with everyone. Will sometimes forget their friends with THE FUCKING SQUID SISTERS AND OFF THE HOOK. Called for emergencies when they need backup

Doesn’t know Deep Cut that well but they bond over “Boss Marie”

3.5 hasn’t met him yet. All Neo hears about him is that he’s “the stereotypical comic hero” (<- Marie) and “the big shot” (<- Pearl, derogatory) Neo hears that they’d get along and probably make good friends. 3.5 sometimes nags Marie to learn more about him since he’s barely mentioned.

Soule knows Neo is the reason he’s unemployed lol

He’s not salty about it, it’s just he was super high ranking and one of the first few employees. Certainly the closest to ever meeting the big boss in person. Never met the real man himself tho

Marie still keeps up that journal about his turf wars and shares his stats. While at first he was incredibly weirded out and scared, now he uses it to track his income because STUENT DEBT.

Offered to use data/memory from him to be a sort of “security” system for Spire. Started out being less focused and then a strait up coma.

As the spire became more and more advanced it demanded more data from his memory (mainly his turf war battles) and eventually the blank slate “Security” started to look like him. Aka the leader of parellel canon. “Intensifying Harmony” is because it’s getting closer and closer to him as time goes on. He’s in the hospital rn.

Once 8 beat smollusk though he woke up. But his eyes look very tired and right now he’s on physical therapy so he doesn’t do missions. Rocking some crutches (if he’s gonna be in pain he might as well be serving cunt while doing it). Always sleepy but likes to drink surgery stuff so the sugar rush kind balances it out

Agent 8

Her name is Olivia and she uses She/Her. 21 years old

Nicknames include 8, Olive, Liv, Livy, and her (basically gamer tag) turf war name “Sandwich”. Gives everyone nicknames that make zero sense, at least to everyone else. No on gets her naming convention

Captain is “Trampoline”, Soule is “Ice”, and Neo is “Felt”

4’s roommate and incredibly worried. Not only about Soule but also about money because the rent is DUEEEEEEE. The medical bills have luckily been covered by Off The Hook. She doesn’t really want to have them pay the rent because she knows that’ll invite them to start spoiling her and Soule. She knows when they start they can’t stop

Speaking about Off The Hook, she offered to look into the program to see what went wrong in there and accidentally got swept up in the madness (aka found by “security” or Parallel Canon’s minions) leading to passing out and being found by Pearl.

Does casual and patrol missions which basically consist of being a vigilante stopping crime. Also called in if there’s an emergency and the crew needs backup

At this point is Off The Hook’s daughter. Is super smart and easily picked up on the ins and outs of inkling society. Currently working at Ammo Knights and exchanges casual design ideas with 4 and Sheldon. May or may not have had some… input in Grizzco weapons because of that.

Has met 3.5, and thinks their pretty swell. Taught them a few weapon tricks and fixes their weapons sometimes. Their relationship is sort of strained as 3.5 is part of “New Wave Octoling Culture” and they never had to really deal with Octavio and Octoling society

It the eccentric bubbly one. Always willing to help and very determined. But is sort of subdued and quiet. Very sentimental and talks in short sentences punctuated with faces or hand motions to better explain. Still kind of struggles with the inkling language (it’s like the difference between Chinese and English)

DUMPED her old gear. She hates walking around in heels 💀. New one resembles 4’s new gear because they decided it would be more convenient to get new ones together bc siblingsss <33

Her and Soule are the sibling dynamic ever. Quiet but crazy and Snarky but chill. It’s like you put the class clown and the nerd together and they do nothing but enable eachother. Quiet kid captain is suffering in the back.

Takes the squid beak splatoon very seriously and will refer to everyone using their “codenames” (aka her silly little nicknames for them) when in the job. She says them in this super serious tone. But besides that will use their “code names” as just affectionate nick names.

Became a lot more carefree once Octo Expansion was finished. But she’s got this intense ass expression on her constantly so people are usually surprised when she’s like… showing off her rubber ducky collection or her CDs. She looks like she’s gonna beat you up when really she’s just knitting (she has a ton of different hobbies)

Is the type of person to be super indecisive about the little things but makes big choices and never looks back. Bold decisions and zero regrets used to be the only way she could survive in Octoling society. Old habits die hard.

Super into electro folk. Got 4 into it and now they basically have raves together in their apartment. Despite the apartment not being that big (at least by inkling standards) they’ve turned it into an impromptu music studio. Half the main room is filled with instruments (some they made themselves) and mixers they bought. Olivia finds it insulting how much Ech0 0nslaught resembles Soule’s remixes and favorite songs…

Agent 3.5/Junior

Their name is Neo and is your local awkward they/them, 15

Was kind of a street kid until they got picked up by this big friend group who pushed them into modern society. Has never been happier

Often called “Junior” or “little dude.” Is honestly fine with being treated like the little kid they are because they’re so used to having to fend for themselves. They will happily be taken care of

Doesn’t get any pop culture references. Them and captain are cluelessly fallowing along when Callie and Deep Cut are talking in slang and meme references. Neo is just happy to be there.

Currently trying their hardest to hide the squidbeak from their friend group because they fear it’ll scare them all away. Is torn between each of their found families.

Admires the agents so much. They see a little bit themselves in all of them and looks up to them and a goal to strive to.

They’ve seen how happy Olivia is even though she’s had it much worse and wants that. They want to be as cool and powerful and captain. And Neo is just dying to know more about the “hidden” agent, the way he’s described as the “One hit wonder” dazzled them particularly.

They won’t press the matter as to why 4’s not here because they can tell it’s a wound in Marie and 8’s side. They can tell captain misses Olivia. And their gaydar is going off HARD when it comes to Deep Cut. Would probably be just as done with Pearlina as 8 and Acht are (if they knew them).

Kinda cheap and stingy with money. Sells autographed squid sister stuff and turns photos they took of Deep Cut into posters. Gotta make that bank yk? Splat land currency kinda sucks so the community is shifting towards the standard currency (aka the currency we use in game).

Does turf wars with Olivia. They use a splatana and 8 uses a range blaster. They’re a one two hit combo and 8 is contemplating adding them to the “family” chart. (A list of people including Marina, Pearl, and Soule)

But once again their relationship is kind of strained. Neo doesn’t see it though. 8 will talk about THE HORRORS of Octoling society and they’re TERRIFIED. They don’t really get eachother but hey, their trying to get closer.

Kind of smug af because “I WENT TO SPACE!”. Also thinks their good at turf war but they really aren’t. Both a girl failure and the coolest man around (lying) at the same time. Big Man suggests using any/all pronouns to them but Neo is still trying to figure out how to even refer to themselves as they/them

Will steal your pronouns AND your gender (keep them safe!!!). Actually steals a lot of stuff. Stickers, weapons, food for small fry, clothes even, all kinds of stuff. Like I said old habits die hard.

Small fry is really well spoken and read. While Neo talks in a more careful, almost taken aback tone. Like they’re trying to come up with what to say. Both of them struggle with knowing when to let others talk. They talk to eachother so quickly that no one understands

Is teaching everybody ISL (Inkling sign language) that they learned from one of their friends. It’s helping them since their HoH and their right ear is busted. Lost about 56% of their hearing in the left ear too due to living out in the Splatlands. They don’t talk about it… (Although the ISL is also helping 8)

General HCs:

Cap still participates in turf war but she prefers ranked. Their team includes Callie, Marie, and 4. He feels like a god compared to their opponents and it really strokes their ego. However whenever it’s tower oor calm blitz SHE GETS HUMBLEEEEDDDD

Has no idea how to dress casual and STILL sucks at hygiene so they’re just walking around awkward af in weird outfits and (too much) cologne. He needs A BATH

Calle still has the shades stashed away somewhere in her closet. They’re beaten and broken and overused. Marie and Sheldon worked on away to destroy it for a while and eventually just had 4 light it on fire and throw booyah bombs at it until it was shards.

While it was still working Callie would put it on a bunch, broke Tavio out, and they’d do the whole boss battle thing again. Became almost weekly and it was part of 4’s schedule at that point. He always joked and insulted Octavio during fight and did things just to annoy him.

8 HATES anything that look vaguely like a blender. There are no blenders in their apartments but they do have a food processor and frother. 8 also tinkers with their microwave and toaster. Her and Marina tried to turn their oven into an impromptu Octotrooper with their own tentacles (failed miserably)

Sometimes when her emotions become too much for her she and the other agents (not Neo though, she think their too young) go to random junkyards in the splatlands and hit trash with all they’ve got using baseball bats. It like a free rage room with friends!!

The agents got tattoos together after Octo Expansion. It’s their numbers on random parts of their body. Marie has a 1 on her left ankle, Callie has a 2 on the back of her neck, Shinji has a small 3 on their right wrist below their palm, Soule has it on the back of his left hand, and Olivia got it on her upper arm.

Secret hand shakes galore!!!! Callie is a particular advocate of the weirding shit you’ve ever seen variety.

Deep Cut are the team rocket rascals who are aggressively nice. They’re always around the corner to scare you or reverse pickpocket and such. They make great friends once you get on their good side

Everyone can tell that Shiver is secretly a girl failure. They all know she’s trying to be cool and failing. She’s besties with Captain and Neo is alway side eyeing Shiver when her and Frye are together. Especially when big man isn’t there lmaooo

Shiver and Frye had their whole world shatter when they ranted to Marie and Callie about how Big Man betrayed them for squid sisters and they revealed THATS THEM

Post side order Neo finally meets Off the Hook and Soule, and instantly gets ROASTED by Soule and Pearl after they say something a little too fangirly. Is the victim of so… so many your mom jokes and gets none of them

Neo and Deep Cut often take other agent’s thing and pull it out when that person asks where it is and have this “HAHA LOOK WHAT I HAVE!!” attitude. But had to permanently stop once Captain gave them a “stern talking” for taking Soule’s crutches and shoving a (Marina’s) blender in Olivia’s face.

Callie and Marie (more often Marrie) often look at the team and feel this sense of pride and accomplishment. Their all basically family to eachother and their the hidden world that everyone can come back to that no one needs to know about

Neo wants to start a ranked team with the other agents. Is patiently waiting for Olivia to mentally recover and Soule to physically recover but they all are already planning everything in advanced and have already officially entered their team under the temporary name “Platoon”

Even thought the squid beak is an undergound team, hidden away from society, it does leak out in certain areas. Mostly rumors from octolings who were there when Shinji and Soule fought Octavio. So there’s this sort of a faint “public perception” picture of at least Captain and 4. Although there may or may not be a certain group of youngsters trying to get a lead on these mysterious figures… 8 and Junior aren’t in the public eye however.

All the agents genders are weird AF. Even Olivia who’s cis and identifies WITH she/her really doesn’t care about pronouns and they will all refer to eachother with “ma’am”, “mister”, “queen”, “king”. They all recognize that part of it is keeping their identities hidden from the public so the fluidity of all their genders just conveniently helps with that

Everyone thinks that Marie is lowkey into Soule but he’s oblivious. Callie brings up the stats journal ALL the time. She even slipped Deep Cut a few dollars to spy on Marie for a few days when she went to Inkopolis square to visit Soule in the hospital and check up on Olivia for Shinji. 4 and Callie like to joke about what Marie’s said to both of them

(Image credit)

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