#(In my Aunt's hand writing!!)

[purplecelestial-buddy]

There's many little details in Harusono's works that tend to take space in my mind (like the background gag of the boys piling up bottles) but one of them is this picture:

There's cake, there's a ton of people and there's someone being thrown???

Idk I just think that they Kagiuras are probably great pary guests.

Full panel for more context:

[north-noire]

the emily siblings! felt like drawing them after writing Chapter 1 :] aunt jen = jennifer in my AU, but henry still calls her jen sometimes (she's also the older sibling)

[ghostlyboysstories]

One of my ocs is so feral. The boy literally has a tendency to rip training dummies apart for fun and partake in underage drinking on an almost nightly basis. His excuse you ask?

“I have to put up with you heathens so I should get a nightly reward hence the wine bottle in my hand. Blaze, be a doll and hand me that shot of tequila. I have a feeling I’m going to need it tonight.”

He is like the sassy, wine aunt that talks shit about everyone, but also he’s absolutely feral and it shows.

(Yes, this is Ryn. The one that showed up in my tags a little while ago.)

[nullbutler]

okay but jewish orthodox communities are fucking nothing like catholic/christian groups of that nature AT ALL

source: I visit Muncy to see family and have seen that family since i was very small, i KNOW this community

and specifically this community...this community where the women cover their hair and wear ankle length skirts, where the men have payot and wont be caught dead withous a tallis, THIS Community where every resturaunt is kosher and you'll be squinted at if you drive on shabbat, THIS COMMUNITY has been so chill. for context i usually stay with my grandparents where we spend all day at an old folks home. not only is most of the staff dedicated, smiley folk from all over the world (jamaican, ukrainian, probably coming in from new york -- not really worth mentioning but they're all so nice and JKLD my grandma's old nurse didnt do half of her job and they still kept her for a year which :( but also yeah!! no xenophobia that i could pick up on, quite the opposite) but even some of the oldest members of the community decide not to follow the religious 'rule.' old ladies will wear pants, shorter skirts, reveal their hair, and they will recieve NO flack for it FROM ANYONE

and when i was sitting outside one time next to a group of old ladies, one of the ladies had a little 1 year old grandson who was bored out of his mind, so as I was waiting for my grandma to get back from a walk i sorta played peekabo with him for the better half of an hour. and the ladies looked over at me and went "oh how nice of you ^^" even though I was (1 very obviously queer (2 very obviously not from the community

and also after my grandma outed me to my slightly more religious aunt (as in EXTREMELY religious WILDLY religious MATRIACH of the community religious), her response was just "shrug. she'll do what she wants. lets get dinner as a family :)"

they almost all have phones, MOST people have access to the internet. it felt like I was walking through the 80s, honestly, kids playing with chalk on the sidewalk and riding bikes and walking to the convenient stores. the biggest drama was the fact that my boy cousin wanted to impress the people he was going to camp with, so he asked his sister to drive over and bring his 'cool' pants, and she was like...'what. why.' 'i want to look cool' 'is everyone wearing dress pants' 'no, just me' 'wh' and she did it anyway so she could pick up icecream on the way back HJGJLDS

and even my littlest cousin, who is very obviously autistic, definitely isn't recieving any school mandated support but is handled with the loving community approach of "oh, let him do as he pleases, he means no harm" and if anyone bullies him they have to deal with his parents

its just AAAAGH its so wholesome, and even as far the more conservative approaches go, its more of a dartboard than a specific community rule. like for instance even if the people nearest to the center of the board were extremely strict with the rules and narrow minded, the people in the outer ranks would be much more accepting. its like different social circles, you cant get ostracized by the entire community because everyone has different levels that they're willing to go, and to everyone in the area its more unusual to be as extreme as my aunt

AHGHHHHH college is making me long for a simpler life drawing chalk on the sidewalks and living in blissful ignorance of what fandom drama is. TAKE ME BAAAACK

[cosmos-coma]

Wrangling sheep this morning for shearing and it’s making me think of our favorite goat dad Eskel 🐐🐑♥️

… and also farm hand Bucky…? 👀👀

[crewofthegoldrush]

family tree y’all! yesterday i dropped some Runswick lore - now it’s time for family lore -

One of the things I enjoy about Eberron is the standard approach to "alignment is inherent to certain creatures and beings" is basically nonexistent. For example, there is no association between good, evil and a dragon's colors - an adult dragon could be gold but with an evil alignment. However, "otherisms" and various forms of hate are alive and well in this world, not too surprising when you've grown up only knowing war.

I say all this as a preface to Gemini and Jolene Twain, metallic dragonborn (brass and gold, respectively) who hold a minorly secret dislike of chromatic dragonborn. They are not racist per say - as that's not an applicable word for this situation, and certainly dragonborn are more respectful than that, surely! - but definitely make it no secret that they see non-metal dragonborn as beneath them, although they believe they hide it well. Gemini is much more the hard ass between the two and runs his family and hospitality business with an iron fist, placing expectations on his children that they couldn't always meet. Jolene is less harsh by comparison but she is absolutely that Karen type, and was known to be abrasive and haughty. Her gold feathers have a coppery sheen that she used to claim was rose gold.

They did not take too kindly to Belle's relationship with Memphys due to his chromatic coloring and their wish for her to marry within the Entertainment Family, nor did they take well to some of the types their other children ended up marrying as well. Jolene has since passed, and an older, ailing Gemini currently lives with his daughter Debutante.

Monty bears an obvious resemblance to Grandpa Gemini, something she absolutely hates. They were not particularly close growing up, as neither of her grandparents are particularly affectionate, however they both seemed to accept her more than they did Memphys. Monty has since learned, from a hard conversation with her Ma, that Gemini wants nothing to do with his banished, disgraceful granddaughter.

Sloan and Callie Grey in comparison to the Twains, were some of the most open and friendly people in Runswick and raised their kids with a sense of justice and valor. Sloan especially did not put up with any of Gemini's bullshit, and the brass dragon smartly kept his mouth mostly shut around him, knowing the beefier lawman could absolutely kick his ass if it came to it.

Sloan was perfectly capable of beating up rude dragons should they test his patience enough, but he was known to be a gentle giant; he loved his job as a glorified guard in the town but, unlike his son, never strove for that coveted Sheriff position. In comparison, Callie was a spitfire of a dragon and still is to this day. Although she took no shit from anyone, instilling a confidence in their children that they still carry with them, she was known to be absolutely friendly and welcoming.

Sloan was a powerful sorcerer and passed on the family rumor that his bloodline was "touched by Bahamut," something Memphys fully believes wholeheartedly, while Arizona and Monty are more doubtful. Sloan has since passed, but Callie lives with Arizona in another town called Burnsley. She and Arizona are both clerics of Bahamut. Monty is named after Gramma Callie, whose maiden name was Montgomery.

-

Memphys, Arizona and Thes were thick as thieves through almost their entire lives, as the O’dora family was very close with Sloan. Arizona very obviously took after her mom, not just in appearance but also in her career, as from a young age she always knew she would be a doctor. Where she differs from her Ma, though, is Arizona is not much of a spitfire, ironically for her element, and tends to gain confidence from her older brother and his best friend, Thes. Arizona and Thes, having very opposite personalities, did not first get along, until Arizona realized how much Thes’ brash personality was actually bringing her out of her shell. After a til sunrise conversation about - well, everything - the two ended up dating and stayed together for quite a number of years. Eventually, the two underwent a rather amicable break up after Arizona realized she wanted kids and Thes didn’t. They still remain friendly today, and no matter where Monty’s epilogue takes her, it is intended that these two find their way back to each other later in life.

Memphys, compared to his sister, had a personality as big as his beefy frame. Even as a teenager, he was always big, in all senses of the word - if Runswick had a quarterback, it would probably be Memphys. It was hard to knock him or Thes down, and it was really of no concern to him if the prettiest silver dragonborn he had ever seen had a Pa who couldn’t stand him. Both Memphys and Thes mellowed out a bit as they got older, mostly due to the influence of his Pa, but also from Sheriff Shephard Yang, an older tiefling who taught Memphys a lot of lessons that he still carries with him today.

Today Thes and Memphys are still so close they’re practically siblings, and it was Thes, after the Greys learned Monty could not cast magic properly, who helped Monty discover her love for artificing. 

Belle is the youngest of her three siblings, which made her a bit spoiled as some youngests can be, but she was still held to the same standards as anyone else in her family - live and breathe Entertainment and do not settle for anything less. When she was younger, this haughty approach to life made her perhaps as bitchy as her oldest sister, but meeting the Grey family mellowed this out of her completely. Her parents were never especially able to pass on any of their - well - prejudices, onto her, so she never disliked Memphys for being chromatic - no, she disliked him for proper reasons, like him not shutting up in class. It wasn’t until he and Thes sat during one of her performances - respectfully silent and obviously transfixed - that she too finally took proper notice of him and they have been pretty much inseparable ever since.

Her instrument of choice is singing and she owns her saloon in Runswick that her father has no claim to whatsoever. It is rumored the saloon is set to go to not Monty or Tequila, but Belle’s favorite little step-nephew.

Faith Twain, a copper dragonborn, is, if you asked Gemini or Jolene, the family disappointment. Yes she stayed within Entertainment (her instrument of choice being the violin/fiddle) and even married someone in that Family - Faith’s personality is completely unbecoming of a Twain. Being the second to youngest put her as one of two middle children; this left Faith a bit on the sidelines and she liked this perfectly well. She dislikes her parents more strongly than any of her siblings, and was known to be a “back talker.” If Runswick had a punk scene, she would have probably been in it, and is the only Twain to bear tattoos. She is absolutely the cool rebel aunt figure in Monty’s life (very similar to Thes as well) who ruins holiday dinners just by being there.

Belle believes Faith had a thing for Arizona that she never acted on - not that it matters, as the minute she met Magnolia any other gal stopped existing for her. It was love at first sight for Faith, although not as much for Magnolia, who settled down in Runswick after losing her parents in the war, and took a job waitressing at one of the bars. It was a rocky start for them, as it was not lost on Mag that a lot of the reptile races in town did not take too kindly to her being a half-elf - especially Faith’s parents; not only was she a “pink folk,” she was a half-breed too? And couldn't you do better than a waitress? Of course, none of it mattered though, and the two eventually married and got the hell out of her parents' thumb. They currently own a bar together, Stealin’ Kisses.

Chadwick looks almost like Belle’s twin, but he is older than her by a few years (assuming dragonborn don’t lay multiple eggs lmao), although the two are probably the closest of the four siblings. Chadwick, despite being a bit bigger than his sisters, to the point where most people assumed he was the oldest, he is probably the more meekier of the four, and he doesn’t usually stand up for himself as much as he does for his sisters. He did his best to avoid internalizing some of the more nastier teachings of his parents, but found he had a lot to unlearn when he met Duke later in life.

Chadwick had a wife, although she passed in their forties from an illness, and the two ultimately never had kids together. Chadwick met Duke a few years later; being a lizardfolk - and a worker in the mines - his parents did not approve, but the two immediately bonded. Duke was also a widow, raising a young kobold on his own, and the three eventually became a little family. Although Duke and Chadwick no longer live in Runswick, Chadwick instilled his love of piano into his new step-son, who took to it like a duck to water and still lives in Runswick today.

Debutante, the oldest of the Twain siblings, is, compared to the other three, the spitting image of her parents. She looks partially similar to her father, although her feathers are as bright brass-yellow as a trumpet. She is also the most similar to them in personality, as she is just as harsh, haughty, and entitled as they are. She does not get along with the Greys and never did. Like her youngest sister, Debbie is a singer, although secretly she finds hotel management much more enjoyable.

Debbie is currently divorced from her husband, Palmer Shelton, and recently changed her name back to Twain. It was rumored that their marriage was not the happiest, and for all her sour grapes, Debbie seems to be on the path towards bettering herself, if she could get her nagging father out of her ear. From how it sounds though, she is less frosty now than she was in her youth.

-

Monty is her father’s daughter through and through, and takes after the Grey’s in all ways but appearances, and has secretly always resented that she did not inherit the Grey’s mane and sorcery. She emulates her mother in personality and appearance, and her father in behavior and life goals, and even her aunt Thes in her tinkering and sense of self, but everyone knows she has always been a “daddy’s girl.” She also misses her “Pops” somethin’ fierce.

Tequila came to live with the Grey’s well into Monty’s adulthood, as she was already in her twenties when she came home from a wedding to find this blue kobold in her Ma’s arms, looking like she was about to ask her father if she could keep a lost puppy. Tequila, although never officially adopted, is considered and treated like a daughter and a sister, and she and Monty formed a synergy that made them perfect for their short times as Sheriff and Deputy.  In contrast to Monty, Tequila is more of a Mama’s girl, as being an orphan probably makes her a bit more wanting for a motherly figure. The two formed even more of a bond, as over the five years of Monty’s banishment, it was Tequila and Belle who wrote to each other to keep the family in communications.

If Monty gave two shits about Gemini’s opinion, it would probably occur to her that he would not like Aubrey in the least - not because she’s an assassin, although he certainly would shit himself to learn this, but because she is a human - a changeling? - and even worse, she’s an aberrant? The look on his face if he ever met Grixie would surpass anything he might have to say about Aubrey, and there is a small part of Monty that hopes she might get the chance to see it someday. Callie, however, Monty is sure would love Aubrey and Grixie, and would welcome them into the family with a bear hug that both gals would have no choice but to endure.

Monty has seven cousins, six of whom live throughout Khovaire (four to Debbie and Palmer, and two to Arizona and an ex partner, all of various ages; Faith & Maggie live that DINK life) while one of them still lives in Runswick. Cheddar took to piano, and enjoyed his time with his step-aunt, so much that he still works at her saloon! Monty loves her little cuz, even if they aren’t the closest. Being of similar ages - and both relating to the other for being taken in by another family - Tequila and Cheddar consider each other buddies, even if that comes in the form of some light-hearted familial bullying. Cheddar is a good sweet bard, but his good heart makes him a bit of an easy target. He is currently dating Rigby of the law family, a spunky brown kobold who dreams of becoming Runswick’s first kobold Sheriff.

–

me placing the little hearts between Montbrey: teeheehee

It is very purposeful that monty’s cousins do not have names or designs, but retconning Cheddar as one of them felt extremely natural. He was a well liked kobold that we met for only two sessions, but he has the distinction of being the only character the meek and quiet Tequila has ever bullied (even if it was friendly, and hilarious), and it was so funny to realize how much sense it would make if they were cousins.

and that’s Monty’s family! poor Aubrey and Grixie really don’t know what they’re getting into lmao

[streetslost]

honestly the only true wishlist i have on this blog is for cat to interact with an o.livia b.enson or a similar character to her for a good crime drama detective ends up breaking the barriers of the broken kid plot to help her, i am actually still weak for that shit idc how mcCheesy

[stitchkiss]

society is so cruel to left handed girlies😔

[harleiquina]

My folder is done...

Will it keep give me hope at the prospect of beeing stuck at work for ages to support my family while I can't create (or finish) my own plans and projects because I have to do overtime so I can have more of those nasty 4dls/hr that I earn interpreting all kind of phone calls? Who knows?

In any way... I'm rather proud of it, even though it's not perfect. (Sharing my Instagram reel because it feels different with the music 😜).

[noxtivagus]

prom. dress. 🫣🫣

[aizenat]

There is this girl I went to hs with and the nicest way I can say this is this girl was smart but not particularly so, and had a high sense of self despite being remarkably average. Again, that's the nicest way I can say that. She also got very triggered whenever I was better at her than something (in all fairness, she was like that with anyone better than her, but my friend caught her shit talking me once when I was the only person in my English class to get an A on my Catcher in the Rye essay--something I expected simply because I'm a writer, was then, and I never once got anything less than A on an essay my entire hs career--and that pissed me off particularly because my writing is the ONE thing in this world I can truly say I do better than most people).

Anyway, I learned a while ago that she moved to Boston, and she was associated with Harvard in some way. Without getting too into it, she works there in the weirdest and most random department (not as a professor or anything meaningful or prestigious, which will make sense in a second), doing basically admin shit it seems. I was curious because she's still listed on their site and it says she's been there for like eleven years. I was wondering if she ended up going there as a student in something, but without a linkden or something, I couldn't see. But every time I googled her name and the school, the only thing that came up was her staffing position. No information to indicate she was a student.

Which is funny. I looked up to see if you can go to Harvard for free if you work there, and the do have a reimbursement program, but you'd only get like 75% of fees back, so you'd still have to come out of pocket. And this is an IVY, so that's going to be pretty. And considering what she does, I can't imagine it paying that much where she could easily afford it. Maybe she does take classes and is slowly working her way to some kinda degree, but I doubt it. I feel like she'd at least be able to brag by now given how long she's been there (the site fucking says when she started lol).

Either way, the reason this is funny to me is because she was never even close or talented or impressive enough to anyone let alone college admissions to get into a school like Harvard (I know for a fact she didn't get in in hs lol), and transferring into schools is typically easier, she didn't get her degrees from there according to the site. So I just lowkey find it funny because the closest she'd ever get to Harvard is not as a student or even as someone brought in to teach, but by getting some admin job and sticking around long enough to get her picture on the school's site. She looks so proud in her Harvard shirt, thinking she finally "made it" but never in a way that would actually impress everyone.

It just all feels very fitting for her. In the right spaces to be around more impressive people while being overwhelmingly mediocre her own damn self lol.

[hwallazia]

XMAS DINNER GOES WRONG – 정우영

⋆ synopsis. it seems like your husband can’t keep it in his pants, not even on a fucking christmas dinner with his family. but, as the lovely wifey you are, you gotta give him some relief, right?

pairing. husband! jung wooyoung & fem! reader.

wc. 3,2k

warnings. smut (mdni!), suggestive language, cussing, almost!! getting caught by wooyoung’s mom (oops), pet names (love, babe, my wife, pretty girl & more), nipple play, wooyoung sucks your entire skin (neck, collarbone, tits and the list can continue…), teasing, wooyoung tears your panties to shreds heh, not dirty—NASTY TALK, begging, yn at some point says “stop” but it’s bc she’s far too blissed out; not bc she actually wanted him to stop, this is alllll consensual!!, unprotected sex, praise ofc, squirting, gut-wrenching fluff in the end ‘cause love him too much.

nic’s notes ⋆ first ff of the xmas event yes sir !! i felt some shit writing this istg (๑/////๑ " )

you know holidays, right?

the perfect opportunity for the entire family to gather and celebrate achievements, blessings, and thousands and thousands of other things. cousins, nephews, aunts, uncles, and even great-grandparents were reunited in that cold and windy winter night. an entire feast was splayed on the table for everyone’s delightfulness, different kinds of foods and smells mixing and creating a delicious, toe-curling experience for anyone’s nostrils.

the hours you had spent shopping for every ingredient for each dish, cutting the vegetables, cooking everything to the exact, perfect point and term really paid off once your and your husband’s family were brought together at the large, dark oak table to celebrate your very first holiday — both families now joined together as one.

nothing could go wrong. the chatting flew as calm and joyful as spring water, sharing experiences and old memories pleasingly, smiles spread like the most enchanting disease—as well as the wholesome ambience, and everything was accompanied by a delightful meal, the well-deserved five star bonus of the evening.

so, if everything was meant to go perfectly, then why the hell was your husband staring at you with the most explicit, sluttiest “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen?

wooyoung sat in front of you, his two cousins sitting each on his sides. his plate was rather full, and that had an explanation: he was far too gone and busy burying heart-shaped daggers into your eyes while his hand cupped his cheek, head tilting to his right — his tongue glided over his dry bottom lip every now and then. you’d bet that none of his thoughts were in the bible. ‘cause fuck, even his younger brother would guess that something’s odd about him. that that’s not the usual behavior of his dear older brother.

“yn? darling?” the voice of wooyoung’s mother dragged out quickly of your insulation bubble. her tilted head clearly showed that she had been trying to talk to you for a while. a soft, warming hue of red struck your cheekbones.

as you gyrated your head to meet her worried gaze, you replied. “yes! mrs. jung, ‘m sorry. what were you saying?”

“are you doing fine, sweetie? you were gone for a bit.” she stared at you intently, genuinely worried about her daughter in-law. oh that woman was almost a fallen angel—if not one. if only she knew it was his own son who was to blame—the very last person she’d suspect, and oh, how deliciously ironic that was.

the figure of your husband’s shit-eating grin could be seen out of the corner of your eye—a sight that ignited a fiery rage within you, yet one you couldn’t help but savor, lingering on the view as long as possible before responding to your sweet mother-in-law. “oh, it was nothing. i’m prolly just zoning out because of how tired i am. y’ know, spending the entire day in the kitchen was exhausting.” the cherry on top of the excuse was the little, innocent giggle you emitted by the end. the woman gave you the most pitiful, yet endearing look. she lifted her arm, indicating with her open palm the white stairs, the reflection of the christmas-decorated banister lighting up her eyes.

“oh, sweetheart. you should go rest, it’s pretty late after all.” her gesture softened your heart, chest clenching a bit.

this woman was going to be the death of you! … uhm, never mind. first place is taken by wooyoung, who seems quite excited with the idea of going upstairs with you, by the way. take a guess at what his mind is scheming.

you shook your hands in front of your chest, quickly denying the opportunity. “thank you really, but i’m okay. i’ll just go wash my face.” you excused yourself, hovering your leg over the other and getting yourself up. “maybe that way i can wake up completely.” ending with a little giggle, you started walking towards the staircase when suddenly, the voice of your dear husband rang inside your ears.

“excuse me. i’ll go help my wife.” his foxy eyes curved into crescent moons, and his lips stretched wide, forming an upward line. oh fuck, you were done for.

“oh yes, i was about to ask you to do the same. please, son.” she stated, nodding approvingly. oh what a gentleman she had raised.

you resumed your steps quickly, arriving to the second floor in less than you expected. you turned your head, only to be met with an empty corridor. thank goodness he hadn’t gotten there yet.

or so you thought. ‘cause when you refocused your attention to your front, a pair of arms grabbed you by your waist and swung you around the air in a swift motion as he dragged you to an empty room. the last sound heard in the corridor was the slam of a closing door.

your breathless body was pinned against a cold wall, trapped between two quite familiar, tanned arms. simultaneously, your disoriented irises tried to adjust to the darkness of the room and focus on the feverish, hungry eyes standing in front of you.

“wh… what the fuck was that.” you muttered as the remains of your breath flew away. wooyoung seemed enchanted by your current state though.

“heeey, don’t curse at me like that.” his gentle, cocky voice penetrated your mind like a bullet. knuckles crept up the sides of your exposed arms, providing soothing strokes — goosebumps prickled to life in response. he opened his warm palms and reached to your also bare shoulder, massaging them. “after all, ’m jus’ here to help you.” he pulled his secret weapon and started making out with your neck, licking your flesh like a starving man and spreading wet kisses all over it.

“help me? how are you helping me like this?” you uttered as your breath hitched, head leaning to the side at the right angle to give him enough space.

wooyoung sucked that sensitive spot that always made your eyes roll to the very back of your head, dragging a whine out of you successfully. his chuckle and victorious smirk didn’t go unseen by your already blissed-out self. he leaned back a little to admire you. just for a bit, palms not leaving their place. “you’ll know when we’re done.” his hands moved in a swift motion, arms wrapping around your thighs and shoulders, lifting you effortlessly in a princess carry. “for now, just shut up and enjoy it, hm?”

“w-wooyoung—you know we can’t do this now— angh!” your anxious, flustered self made a futile attempt to reason with wooyoung, hoping he’d remember that both your families were gathered downstairs for a fucking christmas dinner—while he, entirely unbothered, seemed more than eager to spend the evening thoroughly ruining you in the bed just one floor above. and that was clearly shown when he threw you to the bed as if you were the lightest feather and immediately crawled to you.

“c’mon, love. i just wanna help you stay awake” his gravelly voice purred gift next to your ear as his taunting hands played with the sides of your dress, fingertips aching and itching to rip it off you.

he had you underneath him, completely flustered and nervous. he knew you were really anxious about the dinner—you’d spent a whole hour straight ranting about how nerve-wracking the preparations were, only to end up feeling physically ill from the overwhelming surge of dopamine flooding your system. but your reddened cheeks were smiling at him and your plump lips were whispering nasty things to him. holy fuck, how couldn’t he be tempted?

he needed to be balls deep in you. now.

his skillful tongue found home in your neck and collarbone, sucking cute love bites all over. but, your body was still tense, too uneasy at the thought of the possible scenario of someone entering the room and catching the two of you in such a compromising position.

“b-babe, please—hmph”

in a sultry tone, he muttered, “already begging. so fucking cute.” a smirk was drawn on his lips before his hands reached to your cleavage and popped your tits out of your low-cut dress. “y’ want me to fuck you? ‘s that what it is?”

before you could even think of an answer, he dived right into your breasts, licking your sensitive nipples as though they were his favorite toy — because they absolutely were.

god, the incessant thoughts that ran through your head and his tongue lapping around your buds were too much. everything was starting to be too much, and he hadn’t even taken your clothes off. with heightened sensitivity, your lips fell open and a beautiful, sweet melody of your moans and whimpers escaped through them — a delightful melody for your husband’s ears.

impatient hands stripped you of your glittery dress, leaving you with nothing but your black, thin panties. wooyoung took a moment for himself — well, more accurately for you, to admire and revel in your beauty as he should. a rush of blood surged to his cock, making it throb even harder than before. he was no more than a man, overwhelmed by desire. “you’re fucking irresistible, y’ know that?” he started down to where your and his crotch connected, brows furrowing when he saw your clothed pussy. “i think it’s time for this to go.”

a sharp rrrrrip! bounced through the walls and brought your attention. “woo did you just—?!” you followed the movement of his hands, which discarded the shreds of black fabric to the floor. “that was my—! hahh” and his thumb flew right to your already swollen clit, stimulating it with circling motions.

“why’re you whining when you know i’ll buy you ten more pairs,” he whispered as he soaked in the unsteady shiftiness of your body — and for that, he posed a strong yet harmless grip on your waist. his fat thumb worked nonstop over your bud, sending sparks right to it. your body jolted upward at the feeling of his middle and index fingers tracing soft lines up your pink folds. the sight of your walls clenching and relaxing around nothing spun him. “ooh, what a greedy wifey i got.” he chuckled under his breath, gaze stuck to his home — and i mean your cunt. “sooo desperate for my fingers, huh?”

at this point, any sense or unsteady thought had already vanished away, completely replaced by a selfish state of mind. you wanted him to finger you, fuck you, drive you insane. and you wanted it right fucking now. and so you mewled, “god, please just do something.”

“got the name wrong, darling.” and with that, he pushed two fingers at once inside your fluttering walls, tugging a satisfied moan out of you. “it’s wooyoung. or hubby” he giggled. he fucking giggled as he rammed those fingers mercilessly, shooting stars and fireworks filling your vision.

“w-wait stop— baby, please— fffuck!” stuttering words and incoherent gibberish spilled from your swollen lips, too red and slick from how often and harshly you’d bitten them; eyes welling up with tears from the intense pleasure overload.

“stop?” a chuckle rumbled through his chest. “fine then” he withdrew his long phalanges, leaving you empty. completely fucking empty, with velvety and throbbing walls already missing him. you cried as you felt the void of your pulsating pussy, but before you could coax a desperate “please” from your lips, wooyoung grabbed you by the waist. you gasped, as he manhandled you, positioning you on top, naked folds grazing his clothed sex.

you pouted and wooyoung laughed. he was finding this shit way too funny. “since you so nicely begged me to stop, then put your back into it, mm?” a loud smack! reverberated through the walls as his heavy palm landed on the flesh of your ass. “fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”

and did he have to tell you twice. desperate, shuddering hands worked on his dress pants, quickly undoing his belt and zipping it down just enough to uncover his rock-hard bulge. you grabbed the band of his boxers and pulled it down as well, his cock springing finally free. with a smooth movement, you took his member and positioned it below you. and just before you sit down on him completely, someone knocked on the fucking door.

the surprise caused you to jolt and lose control, sinking in a faster and sloppier motion than you intended — a loud cry resonating through the thin walls the moment his tip kissed your cervix perfectly. with eyes wide open, you slapped a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself for being so fucking noisy and sensitive and—

“yn? are you in here?” the muffled voice of wooyoung’s mother echoed from the other side of the door.

shit shit shit.

“y-yes, ma’am! i… ’m kinda busy over in here—ugh!” you tried to speak as loud and clear as you could, but wooyoung seemed to be unbothered by your efforts since he grabbed your hips and started swaying your core up and down his girth. up, down, up, down.

you stared at your husband with glaring eyes, stabbing knives into his. fuck, did this man even care about being heard by his own mother? now, with all doubts gone, you’re certain you’ve married a freak.

“are you okay, sweetie? what’s going on over there?”

and you swear you heard the door creaking open, so you exclaimed. “no! everything’s fine!” you yelped, your voice higher-pitched than you intended. “please don’t come in.”

wooyoung chuckled underneath you, soaking in the sight of your nervous self trying to mute your cries as your tits bounced right on his face. he could die right there and then and he’d be happy. “what’s wrong, baby? can’t take it?” he whispered as he gazed directly into your tightly scrunched eyes, your partially open mouth releasing nothing more but silent cries and pleas.

“fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” you hushed soundlessly, yet willingly bouncing up and down his length. the low, manly giggle he uttered spun you. fuck, he had you wrapped up around his finger.

“oookay? uhm, do you know where my son is? is he there with you?”

he grinned. that shit-eating grin you hated so damn much appeared all across his face. “c’mon pretty, tell her the truth. tell her how good i’m fucking you, how good you’re taking my cock, hm?” he growled into your ear, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine. the sound was intoxicating, clouding your thoughts and turning your mind into mush.

your throbbing walls clenched around him subconsciously, his head rocking back in reaction. “he’s… he’s here with me, h-helping me like he said he would.”

wooyoung seemed utterly satisfied by your answer, his grin only spreading wider. “that’s my wife. so beautiful.”

“perfect then! i’ll see you in a bit then.” after those words, no other sound was heard — other than the wet clapping of your flesh against his hips.

“‘s she gone?” your half-lidded eyes stared down at your husband, who was hugging you by the waist, face deeply buried in your bobbing, soft tits. your hands flew to the back of his head, cupping his neck whilst caressing his raven hair fondly. at your words, his head lifted, and took a glance at your divine expression.

“baby, i didn’t care, not even a second, if she was hearing or not.” his intoxicating, dark irises sent love letters to yours, utterly drunk in love. “i jus’ wanna cum inside your sweet pussy.”

skillful fingers crept to your hardened, overstimulated nipples and all the way down where your bodies collided, positioning right on your clit. his left hand stroked your firm nipple and played with one breast, letting wooyoung’s tongue take care of the other whilst his right hand shifted rapidly over your bundle of nerves.

he fell in love with you again as he saw your back arching into a perfect crescent moon. “good girl.” your loud whines and moans only encouraged him to keep going. “so responsive to me.” he exhaled breathlessly. “fuck, are you about to cum, baby?”

“y-yeah, fuck— woo, i-i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fucking cum” you yelped as your bounces became sloppier, more desperate and more reckless. wooyoung motivated you by whispering sweet things and heart-melting praises right into your ear.

“cum, baby. cum for me, milk me dry.” and with one last bounce, you sprayed your juices all over him, soaking his pants and white shirt even more.

exasperated grunts and exhales left your husband’s mouth at the sensation of your folds clamping down on him — you definitely understood the assignment of milking him dry. ‘cause your pussy received the hot ropes of cum that his dick spurted out with great pleasure, sucking the life out of his poor, now softened length.

you crumbled down on him, your weakened core landing on top of him with his dick still inside you. your head found home in the crook of his neck as his hand reached to your back, wrapping your waist safely whilst the other provided soothing ministrations to your face. with your last ounce of strength, you pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, an even warming sensation drowning the both of you.

“fuck” was all you could mutter. “how’re we going to get back there, they’re waiting for us.”

wooyoung hummed thoughtfully, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and brushing against your skin. “we could pretend we fell asleep. with that, they shouldn’t suspect a thing.”

“hey that’s actually a great id—“

the door creaked open and your bodies jerked softly. the both of you knew exactly what to do, so your eyes flew shut. wooyoung even started snoring quietly to add a spec of realism to the scene.

the sound of your mothers’ voice echoed through your ears. “she said wooyoung was helping… her” wooyoung’s mom immediately lowered her voice as she took in the scene. an almost soundless aww escaped your mom’s lips.

“well sure he was helping her.” your mother sighed at the wholesome moment she had the luck of appreciating.

“i think he was massaging her. ‘cause when i knocked on the door, i could hear like— muffled sounds, that seemed like moans.” she stated, and you froze in place — well, not like you could move an inch. “at first i was confused, but then she clarified that wooyoung-ah was helping her “like he said he would”” she remarked your words as if she had studied them.

“oh i see.” your mother spoke. “i think we should let them sleep. my poor yn had a long day.”

and with that, the door shut closed with a soft click.

wooyoung giggled under the covers as your face burned from the embarrassment.

“massaging? well, that’s a way to put it.”

“wooyoung, babe, as much as i love you, please shut the fuck up.”

he laughed wholeheartedly, a gut-wrenching sound that never fails to make you smile. “you embarrassed, my love?”

you slapped your open palm against his exposed chest as you whined. “stoppp.”

his small, soft giggle buzzed inside your eardrums before he left on the top of your head a kiss full of fondness and affection. “cutie.”

| masterlist

[north-noire]

north!! i hope ur doing well!! im really interested and curious abt jennifer emily shes seems very giving in tough love but i hope i request some hcs or sketches im already in love with her i love her i love her id do anything for her

I've been doing well the best I could, but thanks for asking! It's been an exhausting time for me, but I'm getting by :] Here's a colored sketch of her, as you requested! Still working on her reference so she'll take a bit (same to the others as well), but I hope this suffices!

Thank you for being interested in my grumpy gal, and for the lovely ask! I'll try my best to explain my headcanons and that kind of thing for her! And honestly same, I would just do whatever she wanted so that I don't get on her bad side lmao.

Plus I really like the idea of Henry having an older sister - originally she wasn't really in the story, but I really liked the idea of an outsider from the Freddy's drama finding out what kind of thing Henry got himself into, and I thought Jennifer suited that role nicely.

Jennifer Emily in my AU - she's a very tough love and blunt kind of woman (Henry unintentionally got his bluntness from her partially), preferring to just be straightforward rather than sugarcoating everything. She just prefers having things done first before she deals with the ungodly things called emotions - she can be a bit brash and can get easily irritable, but she means well, she just says what's on her mind sometimes, so she can sound pretty harsh and brutal. And sadly, she's not really the best at consoling someone or helping them get through their emotions, but she tries her best to console in a different way.

She's a car mechanic, but genuinely has an interest in racing cars (even got racer's jackets and photos of race tracks/racing tournaments she had watched - she's a racing fan, damn she would've loved the Cars movie lmao) and custom car stuff (I imagine her car is like modified a bit to look like a race car for the aesthetic - probably would've collected sports car toys and the like) and that kind of thing - she really wanted to be a racer someday, but alas, that's simply just a child's dream, but she's happy enough to be someone who fixes something she loves as a living, but she was definitely frustrated with the whole misogynistic remarks she gets for just being a car mechanic. Also she doesn't Henry to repair his own car and would rather find him and his run-down car in the middle of nowhere than get him to try and repair it on his own. Another thing, it's never explicitly said in the story/treated as a big deal at all, but my Jennifer is a lesbian woman, and Henry doesn't really care and loves her all the same regardless (and honestly he's not even surprised mostly because he sort of knew she dated women before). She never really found luck finding love though, but she tries her best to go by her life regardless.

Back when Henry and William were just new friends back in college years, she highly disliked William - Henry always argued back/stood up for William, but she just never really liked him. Her personality would always clash with William's, and she really doesn't like how wishy-washy William can be and how much he puts on a show for people, and how much he can be a "people-pleaser" in her perspective. The British accent also made her feel like he was being pretentious and posh individual. Of course, years down the line, Jennifer just sort of got used and just kept her dislike for William all to herself/to Henry, but Henry sometimes alludes to it sometimes in a light-hearted manner.

She also lives alone, with her dog (A Doberman, they're very sweet) :] She never really saw herself as someone who can take care of kids, let alone know how to deal with them, so she's honestly living the best life she could! It's honestly why she doesn't mind Henry coming over every once in a while, she doesn't like to admit it but she gets a little lonely there by herself sometimes.

Sorry for another long post, but I really hope I've explained her stuff well! Thanks for the ask as well it was really fun answering this question!

[uwmspeccoll]

The author, Angela Hovak Johnston.

Johnston and Marjorie Tungwenuk Tahbone, traditional tattoo artist.

Catherine Niptanatiak: "I designed my own, something that represents me and who I am, something that I would be proud to wear and show off, and something that would make me feel confident and beautiful. . . . I have daughters and I would like to teach them what I know. I would like for them to want to practice our traditions and keep our culture alive."

Cecile Nelvana Lyall: "On my hand tattoos, from the top down, the triangles represent the mountains. . . . The Ys are the tools used in seal hunting. . . . The dots are my ancestors. . . . I am so excited to be able to truly call myself and Inuk woman."

Colleen Nivingalok: "The tattoos on my face represent my family and me. The lines on my chin are my four children -- my two older boys on the outside protecting my daughters. The lines on my cheeks represent the two boys and the two girls on either side. The one on my forehead represents their father and me. Together, we live for our children."

Doreen Ayalikyoak Evyagotailak: "I have thought about getting traditional tattoos since I was a teenager. . . . When I asked the elders if I could have my own meaning for my tattoos, they said it wouldn't matter. My tattoos symbolize my kids."

Mary Angele Takletok: "I always wanted traditional tattoos like the women in the old days. I wanted them on my wrists and my fingers so I could show I'm Inuk."

Melissa MacDonald Hinanik: "As a part of celebrating my heritage and revitalizing important traditional customs that form my identity, I believe I have earned my tattoos. I am a beautiful, strong young woman. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, and an active community member. I reclaim the traditional customs as mine, I re-own them as a part of who I am."

Star Westwood: "We still have some of our culture, but some things are slowly dying. Having tattoos helps us keep our culture alive. . . . . My tattoos represent my dad and my dad's dad. The ones closest to my wrists represent my sisters."

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

National Tattoo Day

July 17 is National Tattoo Day. To celebrate, we present some images from Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines: Revitalizing Inuit Traditional Tattooing, compiled by Angela Hovak Johnston, co-founder with Marjorie Tahbone of the Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project, with photographs by Inuit photographer Cora DeVos, and published in Iqaluit, Nunavut by Inhabit Media Inc. in 2017.

For thousands of years, Inuit have practiced the traditional art of tattooing. Created the ancient way, with bone needles and caribou sinew soaked in seal oil, sod, or soot, these tattoos were an important tradition for many Inuit women, symbols etched on their skin that connected them to their families and communities. But with the rise of missionaries and residential schools in the North, the tradition of tattooing was almost lost. In 2005, when Angela Hovak Johnston heard that the last Inuk woman tattooed in the old way had died, she set out to tattoo herself in tribute to this ancient custom and learn how to tattoo others. What was at first a personal quest became a project to bring the art of traditional tattooing back to Inuit women across Nunavut.

Collected in this book are photos and stories from more than two dozen women who participated in Johnston's project. Together, these women have united to bring to life an ancient tradition, reawakening their ancestors' lines and sharing this knowledge with future generations. Hovak Johnston writes: "Never again will these Inuit traditions be close to extinction, or only a part of history you read about in books. This is my mission."

Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines forms part of our Indigenous America Literature Collection.

Angela Hovak Johnston (right) with her cousin Janelle Angulalik and her aunt Millie Navalik Angulalik.

View other posts from our Indigenous America Literature Collection.

[ilookattextile]

I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.

On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result. 

Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful. 

I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned. 

When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura. 

A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.

I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me. 

Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad. 

This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.

I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves. 

I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this. 

Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago. 

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 , various ! pt two

synopsis: his voice lines about you as his beloved partner

including: boothill, aventurine

side comments: my first voice line fic was well received and for that I thank you all <3 so of course this is for all my boothill and aventurine lovers out there! (including myself for boothill...)

extra: gn reader, angsty and fluffy moments, I genuinely loved writing boothill's, minor spoilers for both favourites: boothill word count: roughly 1000+

care to see the first part? includes dr. ratio, jing yuan, & blade!

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

WHO ARE THEY? I "Out here askin' question huh? Well if you're that curious... then you better listen close."

FIRST MEETINGS? "Met them on a bullet train in a neighbouring star system. Turns out we were chasing after the same fudge-heads. You could've seen them- a sly creature that's who they were, whipping out the most slick sniper I've ever seen. I'd reckon that was one of the most thrilling fights I've ever had: came out with dents all over my arms and a broken gun. Their bullets nearly punched a hole through my cheek... hah!"

GREETINGS? "They may be a load of dormant gunpowder, but they sure are sweet! Full of laughter and courtesy. But I'll let you in on a little secret... ( Name ) likes to walk in, pretty as always- and plant kisses all over my cheek before they even say a word."

PARTINGS? "Being a Galaxy Ranger means never staying in one place. ( Name ) is no Galaxy Ranger... I'd reckon it's better that way."

ABOUT US: SHOES IN THE HOUSE "I can't exactly 'take off my shoes' now can I? But ( Name ) likes to keep the house tidy and I best not anger them... like that one time- anyways, we came up with this whole fudging system just to keep the bottom of my damn boots clean! It's fudging ridiculous! *Chuckles* I can't help it, but ( Name ) is understanding. Even if I trudged through all the grime in the universe- they'd still wipe it all off."

ABOUT US: FAMILY "You see, ( Name ) has this big family. Siblings, cousins, extended cousins, aunts and uncles, you name it. We were on their home planet once, and I finally understood where ( Name's ) knack for puttin' a real good home together came from. Their family lives in the countryside where all you can see are open fields, lush hillsides, free-roaming animals and wildflowers. Consider it a quiet paradise. They even grow their own food for fudging sake! Everythin' made by hand and land. Darlin' nearly coaxed me into joining them for dinner once, but I knew better. Best not spoil the family get-together."

CHAT: HATS N' POSES "Personally, I like my hat and flare the way it damn is. How would fightin' be without it? But of course, your partner has to be a cheeky tease about it."

CHAT: WARMTH " I've seen it in the movies- those fudging 'romcoms'- and read it in books. When it gets cold... I'm no help. Can't do much except reach for a blanket and wrap them up. But even then, metal and skin don't fudging work."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Count me in on a dance sugar plum! Have to admit, darlin' has a fair share of good dance moves. Nothin' like a hard-earned victory being celebrated with a cool glass of whisky and a smooth dance."

ARGUMENTS: "Bitter things that's all they are. Leaves you knocked out cold. Reminds you of all the things you can't take back."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: "Following the hunt ain't an easy task. But someone has to punish the wretched. That's the thing about the hunt- you get cold, hard. Sugar follows another path that doesn't make any fudging sense to me. But that doesn't matter. None of that ever mattered, not to them, not to me or even the hunt. Call it selfish, but I'd like to one day settle down... Just like their family. Out where no one could find us."

WHO ARE THEY? II "They call me their 'sweet lover'. But really it should be me saying that. If anything I am the sweat of their brow- a nuisance at times. But they still love me. They still fudging love me."

EXTRA: IPC ENTRY "Normally, Galaxy Rangers travel alone. However, we have seen the wanted Galaxy ranger- Boothill- be accompanied by someone who appears to be a vagabond follower of Xipe. Despite the information we possess, the relationship between Boothill and his supposed 'partner' is very limited."

𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

WHO ARE THEY? I "Fancy meeting you here- oh? A rumor you say? Rumours do have peculiar ways of reaching the ears..."

FIRST MEETINGS? "All business ventures possess their gains and losses. However, I did not expect my pockets- alongside others- to be picked on a night meant to celebrate the Strategic Investment Department. The person who did it played their cards exceptionally well. I applauded them and the subtlety of their skills."

GREETINGS? "Despite their rather cunning nature, ( Name ) is quite kind... shockingly so. I thought their smile was a chip they played for their own meticulous advantage. *Chuckles* I was wrong, there was simply nothing to understand behind that smile."

PARTINGS? "One transaction after another, the universe keeps spinning. Don't keep up, you fall behind. Simple. I don't have to worry about that around them, or at least, for a while, until another wager must be made. Until the peck on the cheek is over."

ABOUT US: LOCKET "( Name ) has a keen eye for trinkets and bought- well stole- a locket for the two of us to share. I keep it with me, a lucky charm if you may."

ABOUT US: NAPPING "Personally, I don't nap. But, ( Name ) is a terrible influence and says I should. I must admit, waking up to them in the afternoon is not a bad way to spend my time."

CHAT: THEVERY "( Name ) is a thief... a good one at that. Oh don't worry, they struck a deal with the IPC. Primarily on their terms because they have been such a nuisance to the IPC. It's rather amusing seeing the IPC chase their own tail. We've definitely shared laughs over it."

CHAT: CONFESSIONS "Who could possibly love something so broken? It's like keeping a clock that won't tick or a deck of cards missing a queen. Sometimes, I wish they didn't care so much. It would be... easier."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Of course, a good game of cards is a fun way to pass the time. *Chuckles* Though, ( Name ) is a terrible player. Not that I mind, I'll guess I'll play the role of 'loser' this time around- best you not tell them."

ARGUMENTS: "What else is there to say? Nothing. That part is the worst."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: HEART OF GOLD "( Name ) steals to give to the poor. It's their motto... I saw them once with a group of kids on a planet in a distant star system. They were giving back to the orphanage- the smiles on the children's faces when given toys, marbles to be exact, were so bright."

WHO ARE THEY? II "In all honesty, I'm not quite sure. However, what I do know is that luck finally worked in my favour... I'll hold onto that for as long as I can."

EXTRA: DR RATIO'S OPINION "The gambler- without hesitation- will bet 'all in' even if it means his own life hangs in the balance. However, amongst the chaos of his bets, there is one person who will drag him back to reality... ( Name ). Aventurine will never gamble nor forfeit the one person who truly understands him. Even I don't fully understand the gambler's crafty nature. I suppose a thief is the only one who can and more importantly, will."

masterlist.