#Also the colors of the strings don't mean anything

[aliott-art]

Kirbtober day 24 : Another dimension

I had already drawn another dimension in the cutescene redraw day. So here, Magolor is trying to explain kirby lore to kirby (he probably won't get it the first time). Elfilin is here to help too !

[yandere-daydreams]

Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.

Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.

Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).

Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.

Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.

Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.

Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.

Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.

Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.

[queers-gambit]

All Mine

title citation: song by Brent Faiyaz

prompt: ( requested ) you and Tangerine break up, and the man you date after is a serious downgrade. on a night out, Tangerine decides your story isn't yet finished.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 7k+

note: did i use this gif already? yes. but it fits the theme of this story.

warnings: same drill - Tan's government name is Aaron, Lem's is Brian. cheater!Reader (not on but with Tan, you'll see), some angst, break-ups, but overall hurt and comfort, happy ending, small NSFW, random "State Farm" quote (not sponsored), smoking indoors, brief domestic aggression, brief violence (it's Tan), term "going postal" used, not edited. "not all men" only applies to Tan i don't make the rules.

We begin today by discussing the concept of soulmates.

World renowned Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato (born Aristocles, not to be mistaken for Aristotle), once theorized that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces. The Greek God, Zeus, motivated either by fear of man's potential power or the need to reprimand their arrogant pride, decided to punish humans by severing them into two perfect halves - dooming them to roam the Earth in search of their whole self.

According to Ancient Chinese mythology, The Red String of Fate (tied by the Lunar matchmaking God, Yue Lao) says lovers who are destined to be are tied together through lifetimes by a red string - the color that symbolizes happiness - regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This string might stretch or tangle (like all relationships), but will never break.

Some Western cultures believe in the idea of simple "soulmates", two people destined to meet and love one another unconditionally. They thought their souls are someway, somehow intertwined - be it in the stars, by the cosmos, or even some intrusive, baby-presenting, diaper-wearing, winged fucker named Cupid. "Soulmates" operate as two halves of one whole, yet still remain two separate individual persons. The idea originates from Plato's theory, but essentially affirms: there's a perfect someone for everyone.

Other cultures might say their religious deity or just faith in said religion is peoples one, true love. Some argue a "soulmate" isn't a romantic partner at all, but instead, a person's twin. You know, same womb, same "soul", that kinda reasoning.

Akin to the Greeks, theosophy claims God created androgynous souls, and these souls were individually split into the two genders they once were. Each half seeks the other, and when their karmic debt is paid (being a reason they were split in the first place), the two halves will return to their whole, true self.

and before anyone says anything about gender, remember, these theologies originate from a time that a modern day Taco Bell dollar menu burrito would literally make the theologists implode!

Some New Age philosophy says a soulmate is a totally separate entity (meaning, not split or derived from us), and who spends lifetimes as your friend, lover, co-worker, partner. Soulmates are the greatest union of the heart, no matter the shape or form it presents as; being two connected souls. Hence platonic soulmates, as well.

Other common literary soulmate idioms:

cut from the same cloth -> meaning being so in-tune and similar in characteristics, demeanor, and / or behavior, you "must've" come from the same place.

apple of my eye -> while, yes, it means being extremely important to a person, it also could mean being the "core" of your lover's heart and / or soul; similar to how an apple core keeps the fruit's integrity.

better / other half -> it's 2 am, this is pretty self explanatory.

ride or die -> again, self explanatory - but indicates that a soulmate will live life loyally with you in good and bad times.

match made in heaven -> being absolutely SO perfect for each other, your love was crafted by divine intervention in the eternal kingdom of heaven - where a thing or two about "soulmates" might be known.

my heart and soul -> your love being so strong, so right, it takes over logic and emotion; and intoxicates your very soul - your entire being.

No matter what approach you take, what you do or don't believed, there was no denying: Aaron was your soulmate.

That arrogant, smug, sarcastic, devilishly handsome, mysterious, devious, sneaky, alluring, intelligent, bitchy, suave, charming, intuitive, opinionated jackass who used the operative codename Tangerine.

But to you, he was Tan. Tangie. Aaron. Ace. The love of your life.

You couldn't avoid it. There was no wishing him away, no genie to appear for your third wish. There was no point in trying to avoid or deny your feelings anymore, they were an 18-wheeler and there was no crosswalk in sight; and that's where everything fell apart - realizing you were ready and willing for this emotion to come barreling into you. When things got serious, when you were ready for distinct, specific commitment, Aaron suddenly reared back and put so much distance between you, it was as if he catapulted into a different timezone.

You had been at a mutual friend's birthday party, and after several rounds of alcohol, where everyone was good and buzzed and happy in their own little worlds, incidentally toppled into a public showdown.

"What's the rush?" Aaron asked you, tears inconceivably dribbling down your cheeks one-by-one while stood in a packed-out bar. "Huh? What's your rush to get married? Things have been so good, doll - so fucking good - and you want to ruin that? This isn't - "

You barked, "'Ruin that'? Ruin, what, exactly!? Aaron, we've been together five years - five fucking years, half a bloody decade - how could you possibly say you don't know if you want to marry me or not yet!?"

"It's not you, love - "

"It's not me, it's marriage that scares you!?" You snarled, so used to hearing it, you can quote him.

"Yes!"

"It's the same difference! You love me, but marriage is so scary, it's not worth it, even with me! No matter how much you say you love me, right? You just can't - no, no! - you won't love me enough to marry me! Because you're capable of it, you're capable of loving me enough, but you're much more comfortable being an emotionless jackass - "

"No, no, don't go putting words in my mouth," he groaned, head tilting back, shaking his curls as he rightened to look at you. "Baby, just listen to me, please, neither of us are in a state to have this conversation - "

"We never are, according to you! It's never the right time, the right energy, right setting! What's the issue, Aaron? Huh?" You felt your anger crack and chip away like a hard boiled egg, revealing the soft emotion inside. "What's the real problem being with me? With marrying me?"

"We're just - we're so young!"

"Try again."

"You're just not thinking about - "

"Oh, no, but I am!" You snapped, setting your nearly empty glass to the bartop and shocking yourself (and the eavesdropping bartender) that it didn't shatter. "I am thinking, Aaron, I'm finally thinking about myself - for once - and I know what I want! And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore to ask for what I know I deserve!"

Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as he did when faced with confrontation. "Neither of us are drunk or sober enough to get though this conversation, so... Let's just..." He trailed, brows furrowing when you shook your head with a hateful scoff, yanked from his grip, and stormed away. But he quickly snatched your upper arm, halting your escape, demanding, "Wait, wait, wait, hang on, love. What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away from you - "

"They haven't even cut the cake, baby, c'mon, the night is still early - "

"Excuse me while I don't want to stand around here with my ex-boyfriend in front of our friends pretending to be happy."

"What're you - ex-boyfriend?" He stuttered in genuine hurt and confusion.

In that moment, like divine intervention to semi-prove your point, Brian, Aaron's brother, who used the codename Lemon, dropped in. Tangerine let go of you to not make it look like he was holding you in place. "S-Sorry, I know this looks tense, but, uh, bruva," Brian showed Tangerine his phone, "we've gotta go, man..."

"We're in the middle of something, Lem."

"I get that, but... Duty calls, mate."

Tangerine sighed, hand through his hair, turning to you in what you used to think was real empathy. "I-I'm so sorry, love, I have to go - but we'll finish this conversation when I get home, okay? Yeah?

You sniffled and nodded sadly, "See? You see? You love your job more than me, that literally in the middle of a fight about marriage, you're gonna go. Did you see how easy that was for you? Yet you can't love me enough? In a much less high-stakes situation?" With another nod, but this time out of realized confirmation, you breathed, "I'm done, Tangerine." He knew you were serious when you reverted back to his codename; stripping the personal warmth from your tone. "Okay? I'm done. I can't do this anymore, it's absolutely unfair. You've made it clear, you don't want to marry me, so, that's fine, but I'm not in the business of wasting anymore time than I already have. Now," you took a breath, "we can talk later about getting your shit outta my place, probably after your mission, but until then, just please, leave me the fuck alone."

You swore that was going to be the end. It was supposed to be. There was never supposed to be a relapse. Never an epilogue. The Tangerine / Aaron chapter was closed, the entire book was supposed to be closed!

But when you're single for the first time in five years, you kinda forget how to casually date.

There's dating apps, which, as some might know, is just a nightmare experience. There's sometimes local singles events - but they're not always the vibe you usually want to spend your energy on. Matchmakers were (apparently) thousands of wasted dollar. Dating coworkers is typically ALWAYS weird unless you're Jim and Pam, or Meredith and Derek, or whatever other couples TV romanticized. Reality dating shows? That air out all your business? PASS. Taking your mother's recommendations? PASS. Especially if she has her little "church friends" trying to set you up, too? HARD PASS. Sometimes, you just start praying for a hunky Italian Mobster to abduct you - it honestly sounds a little easier (read: this is sarcasm)! Your friends try to set you up, but it usually doesn't click, or it's a strange experience that makes you reject further offers. You could always hope a guy spills your coffee and offers to buy you a new one, which turns into you talk the day away - but life isn't a Glen Powell movie.

Oh, and don't even get me started on ghosting - fuck you if you ghost people, you immature coward.

So, sometimes, you get real lonely, start to feel a little self pity, like you made a mistake breaking up... And maybe you seek company in alcohol... And that alcohol can sometimes help you reminisce... Which exasperates the loneliness... And eventually, maybe that little devil on your should convinces your to text your ex... Which in turn, starts an entire precedent about it being "okay" to go back to him in times of need and desire, of desperation, sometimes of boredom, or even times of comfort.

Aaron had left you alone after the break up, he knew to give you space; so, when you start casually fucking about a year after ending things, it was you pulling all the strings. Women in power, ammirite? Though, Aaron didn't mind your use of him, he always thought the break-up was a fluke of some kind, something fleeting, temporary - hence why he left you alone to sort your feelings. Aaron knew he wasn't perfect, but neither were you; resulting in plenty of "negative" aspects of your relationship, but there were far more positives - more ups than downs - assuring you both know, this was real. This was love. This was true love. It was eternal and raw and passionate... But you couldn't wait forever for him to face his fears.

Until... One night, after hours in his sheets, from the side of his bed, you declared, "This was the last time, Aaron."

He watched you hook your bra, cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" He mused, having heard it before. "All right, sweetheart. Same time next week, yeah?" Aaron laughed at his own joke, casually flicking ash into the bedside tray.

"No. I'm being serious, Ace," you sighed almost sadly. You stood to yank your panties and leggings up in one move; shifting your hips, wiggling a bit to adjust the feeling of tightly wadded cloth cutting through raw coochie. "Ryan and I, uh... We're, uh, you know," you cleared your throat, trying to situate your tee shirt without looking at him, "we're going exclusive."

"Uh-huh, is that so?"

"Yep."

"When was this decision made?"

"Oh, uh," you blanched, "the idea was proposed a couple days ago, but we're making it official tonight - "

"I've seen you 8 fucking times this week and it's only Tuesday - "

"I know - "

"What the fuck, Y/N!?"

You glared, "What do you want me to say, Aaron!?"

"That you're not being serious! We're supposed to be together, not whatever - "

"You knew that we were just fucking to blow off steam and fill certain voids, we weren't back together! You always knew one day, this was bound to happen."

"Why? Huh? Why fuck me, but date him?"

"Because you're allergic to committeemen and Ryan isn't!"

"So, why do you keep comin' around? Why keep comin' back t'me, huh? If he's willing to commit, why're you the one fucking around on him? With me?" But the look on your face said it all, making Aaron laugh spitefully, "Ohhh, no, oh, sweetheart. Oh, don't fucking tell me, doll, he's not fucking you right?"

"For fuck's sake, would you please get off your high horse a single moment just to fuck off - "

"Why else would you keep coming back?" He demanded, smug as could be. "Don't wanna date me, but you'll fuck me? Oh, poor Ryan must really be lacking - "

"I told you, this is the last time."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," he laughed, leaning back, hands behind his head. "They all always say that before they come crawling back in my bed."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" You snarled, feeling more hurt than you should've. And Tangerine could read it all over your face. "I told you every man I slept with - granted it's only been two this past year, but still - are-are-are you saying there's been others? That you haven't told me about? Have you been fucking other people while fucking me?"

"Hang on, love, listen, I didn't mean - "

"I think I need to go, this was a mistake - all of this - coming back here, fucking you. I need to go," you huffed, stepping into your Crocs (for a quick escape), and rushing to grab your jacket, purse, and keys. The entire time, Tangerine was trying to amend what he said, but it felt like the (final?) nail in the coffin you had been waiting on; assurance that you needed to be without Aaron. See, upon your casual fuck, you agreed to date and sleep with others if you wanted - you weren't exclusive - but for reasons deemed useless now, you were supposed to tell one another about other partners. And he couldn't even do that?

So, you left his flat, and when he followed you out, he saw you disappear at Olympic sped down the staircase - key to his place left on the hallway floor.

"Well, well," his elderly cougar neighbor leaned in her doorway, watching you go with crossed arms and a smirk, "looks like li'l miss is gone finally, huh? This mean you're available for dinner tonight?"

Tangerine snatched the key from the ground, "Not tonight, Mrs. Roberts."

"It's 'Ms' now," she informed, but Tan didn't even hear; just slipped inside his flat, shut the door, locked it, and stood in the foyer, palm flat, looking at the key as if it were a foreign object, for 37 minutes.

Knowing how upset you were, Tangerine didn't try to contact you. Yet one week after your fight, when he knew your standing "Soul Cycle" class took place and you'd came by after, he set up his flat. He got you dozens of apologetic roses all mixed with bright sunflowers and dotted with baby's breath - bouquets he put together himself. Candles lined the place, all lit within fire code restrictions. He played light, modern instrumental music because he knew it had been on your Spotify playlist - not that he was checking it or anything. He cooked your favorite meal by hand. He cleaned himself up, styled his hair, wore the cologne you got him for your first Christmas together (that he's never changed), and wore the baby blue button-up he knew drove you crazy. To top it all off, he got a very dainty golden bracelet - one that was nice enough to convey the amount he spent (as if money = sincerity of apology) but still simple enough that Ryan wouldn't notice if it became part of your normal jewelry box. In fact, nobody would - except you and Tangerine, the way he likes things. The bracelet is even engraved with a subtle 'A' because no matter who you date, he always knew you'd be his and he'd be yours - but wouldn't point this out to you... Yet.

Your class ends at 6:30, you were never later than 7:05. He was ready and waiting at the door, going over his apology by 6:15. He changed into a new, identical shirt at 6:33 after sweating through the first; drying himself, spraying extra antiperspirant over his torso. He changed the tissue wrapping of his offering bouquet so it wasn't wet from his sweaty palms when he gave it to you at 6:41. At 6:46, he began pacing. Aaron began impulsively checking his phone at 6:53. He didn't have your location anymore (a con to the break-up he strongly protested out of fear for your safety) so he couldn't check if you were lost, in trouble, in traffic, at that smoothie place you loved. 7:15 rolled around, no key in the lock. At 7:22, he called Brian in a panic.

"What's wrong? She's just late, Aaron, take a breath, mate."

"She's never late."

7:30 turned to 8... Then to 9... And finally, at 10, Tangerine realized you were serious - that was the last time together.

The hurt suddenly set in, realizing you're not coming back. Selfishly, he knew, he could fill a void no man - even one as objectively good as Ryan - could. He knew you must've felt lonely; craving adventure and spontaneity, something exciting that he knew you lacked with Ryan - or any man.

For days, he agonized - trying to get in your head.

Without him, were you lonely? His job makes him travel, but did Ryan ever take you anywhere? Did he surprise you? Open your doors? Send you flowers? Keep you waiting? Did Ryan communicate with you in the way Tangerine knew you preferred? Was he kind? ...Were you alone?

He knew for a fact, when together, no matter what, he never made you feel unloved, under appreciated, devalued, taken for granted, but perhaps that changed when he began his allergic reaction to the prospect of marriage.

Two years. Two years since breaking up. One year since you ended your Friends with Benefits situationship. One year, you've been with Ryan, and by God, did it drive Aaron insane. For months, Brian felt a responsibility for his part in pulling Tan away that night instead of leaving him to work things out with you, but his brother assured it was a long time coming... Though, Tan had to admit, he never thought it'd go this long.

Like a good neighbor, Jake from State Farm is there! But like a good brother, Brian is there to take Aaron out for a night of necessary debauchery. This was an otherwise mundane activity, something to blow off steam and remove oneself from reality - yet fate works in really funny ways.

The club Lemon chose was packed to the brim; stuffed with bumping, sweaty bodies; strung out to blaring music in various zombified states induced by drugs, alcohol, or maybe both. Luckily, their group had an elevated position in the club's VIP seating, keeping away from the dance floor; giving limited advantage in height when surveying the area.

That's how Tangerine saw you after a year.

Judging from the glittery sash and cheap tiara on your friend's head, he guessed you were there for a birthday party; feeling his stomach knot itself into a noose when he noted Ryan hovering around your flank. He wore khakis, loafers, a creased, pale yellow button-up he guessed was thrifted; holding his drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, bobbing and nodding awkwardly to the thumping music.

When you moved, so he Ryan. When you threw back a shot, Ryan looked away with a long, heavy sigh and curled lip. When you tried to dance, Tangerine saw Ryan snatch your upper arm to reprimand directly in your ear; a couple of your friends even shooting him looks of distain.

A hand clapped heavily on his shoulder, Lemon appearing at Tan's side. "Only you would come t'a club, mate, crawlin' with babes, yeah?" He gestured to the scantily dressed women dancing provocatively around them with his hand holding a drink, "And stand here, like-like, you're Lurch or some shit!"

"'Lurch'?" Tangerine repeated, eyes never straying from where you were in an obvious disagreement with Ryan.

"Like - you know - from the Addam's Family? Tall fucker? Just stands 'round, leering?" Lemon listed intentionally, seeing his brother unmoving. "Jesus, fuck, mate, just go talk to her already! Swear, you stand here any longer, watchin' people, they'll toss us out 'cause of the complaints. Shape up, mate, time t'shit or get off the pot. Move it."

Tangerine finally adjusted his stance, sniffling, shaking his head, "Nah, mate, don't know what you're talkin' 'bout - "

"She's right fuckin' there," Lemon pointed, outing his brother completely, "and you've been a bitch for too long about this. When are you gonna get another chance like right now? Swallow your fuckin' pride, yeah? And just go talk to her! Go apologize! Get her back! 'Cause, just look at her, mate," Lemon paused, both watching you, "think she's happy with a bloke like that? Treats her like that? Only time I ever saw her look at you like that was the night youse two broke up..."

Lemon offered a pursed-lip-smile, patting Tangerine on the shoulder twice and backing up a couple paces. It was like he watched the final bit of confidence Tan needed inject itself into his heart; shoulders almost doubling in size as he shed his suit jacket too casually. Lemon materialized to accept it, laying it in their private booth as Tangerine lit up a cigarette, pocketed his solid gold cuff links, and began rolling up his sleeves while surging through the VIP section and into the general population.

Lemon followed swiftly, several others on their tail as the promise of excitement was too good to pass up.

"I'm telling you, you're being fucking embarrassing!" Ryan was heard snarling. "Let's go home before you make it worse! I have a reputation to protect, imagine what anyone would say if they saw my girlfriend acting like a fucking fool!"

"Oh, Jesus, I have two shots and you think I'm wasted? That I have to go home? You think you can treat me like I'm some child? I'm not going anywhere with you," you snapped back.

"I told you we'd be here an hour - it's past that - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a birthday party! We weren't ever going to stay just an hour!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, now let's fucking go!" Ryan grabbed you again to emphasize his point, but you didn't even get a chance to struggle because Tangerine was imposing himself between you; plucking his smoldering cigarette from his lips, French inhaling the smoke. Ryan snarled, forced back a step, "The fuck - "

"She said she's not going anywhere with you, so I suggest you walk away," Tangerine growled, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ryan scoffed, looking close to laughing.

"That's my girl you're fucking with, so, again, walk away," he lifted his cigarette for a puff.

"Tangie," you spoke gently, holding the back of his designer black shirt and gently tugging him backward, "Tangie, c'mon, baby, back up, let it go."

"'Your girl'?" Ryan actually laughed at Tan, not hearing you over the deafening music, but the two men were clear as day to one another. "Got it fucked up, playboy, if you're tryna tell me what's what about what's mine."

"Yeah?" Tan nodded, grinning slowly. "Think she's yours?"

"She ain't nobody else's - "

"That why she was coming to me this whole time?" Tan taunted. "'Cause you couldn't make her nut, couldn't fuck her right. What a fucking shame, then she had to come to me 'cause I don't disappoint her. She likes the way I fuck 'cause it's the only time I get rough with her, not like you - "

The gathered crowd gasped when Ryan swung first - everyone saw it. The punch never landed, Tangerine keeping you behind him as he adjusted to upper cut Ryan. It spurred an entire altercation; your girlfriends quickly scurrying out of the way as Ryan and "his boys" tried to take on Tangerine, Lemon, and their entourage. The smoldering cigarette was dropped. Security had to step in, blood making the linoleum floors slicker than spilt alcohol made it sticky, both parties being escorted out of different exits of the venue.

You were faced with a decision.

"Y/N! C'mon!" The birthday girl called, holding up her bloodied boyfriend. Ryan paused and glared at you, face fucked, nose broke, eye darkening, jaw swollen, blood smeared; waiting for your decision. You shook your head and let the drunken crowd swallow your form.

Unsure how, you were let into the VIP section to grab Tangerine and Lemon's belongings, quickly jogging in your glittering heels towards the back exit.

"Should've fuckin' killed him - did you fuckin' hear him!? You saw him, what he did!?" Tangerine was raging, pacing the alley as his group watched on; unsure what to say or do to calm him down. "He fucking grabbed her, too, should go find him - put his fucking face in the Goddamn pavement - "

"Hey."

Tangerine froze when your voice was heard, meekly standing there with suit jackets in arm.

"Baby girl!" Lemon barked, laughing happily and opening his arms. "Oh! There she is! C'mere!" He happily growled, hugging you tightly. The others picked up on the hint, excusing themselves to find the cars while Lemon greeted you and Tangerine almost shit a brick.

"Oh, uh," you breathed when Lem pulled away, "I grabbed your jacket, sweetie."

"Thanks, love, can always count on yah," he beamed, accepting the apparel. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "I, uh, I'll go help find the car. We'll be at the end of the alley, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding; squeezing his arm softly before letting him pass. Almost sheepishly, you approached Tangerine, lips rolled between your teeth, noting the split lip and disheveled curls. His hands were on his hips, pacing a small circle, head tilted and unable to meet your gaze. "You, uh, got a li'l something," you gestured at your mouth.

His head lifted, seeing the small teasing glint to your eyes; making him smirk and joke back, "Yeah, just a bit, huh?"

"And you left this," you held out his suit jacket.

When he took it back, Tangie nodded and rushed, "Come home, doll."

"Aaron - "

"Nah, nah, c'mon, come home, baby, please. I know I've been the worst, I know you didn't deserve it - but after losing you... Actually losing you... I mean, when you didn't show up, like you said - I felt everything at once and I knew that I'd never be the man who deserved you, but I owed it to us to try. So... I made the decision to love you better."

"That's nice to hear, but - "

"But without action, it don't mean shit, I know," he finished for you, stepping closer to caress your cheek. "If you let me, baby, I swear, I'll love you better."

You couldn't verbally answer, just sigh and lean forward to rest your forehead on his chest for just a moment of peace. "Thank you," you mumbled, "for earlier, when Ryan got aggressive."

His arms came around in a vice, keeping you close and enveloped in his warmth. Tangerine promised, "Never gotta thank me, baby. Never." A horn blared from the mouth of the alley, knowing it was Aaron's people and you needed to make a decision. Right here. Right now. Yet, your ex just sighed and pulled away, offering, "We can drop you home, if you like. Or I'll get'cha a hotel, can crash with Brian - "

"Can I stay with you?"

Tangerine gulped, appearing shocked but agreeing, "Of course, baby, yeah, yeah, 'course, c'mon, let's go, this way, watch your step, love."

He quickly dropped his arms only to pull his jacket over your shoulders; keeping you at his side as he lead you to the idling car. Unknown to you, Ryan was at his own car, watching, waiting; seeing you leave with Aaron made his blood boil - but when his eyes connected with Aaron's over the roof of his car, seeing him grin, Ryan swore he could've gone postal.

"Are you guys alright?" You checked, Tan keeping you so close, you were practically on his lap. Brian was driving and two other guys sat passenger, all giving varying assurances that they were okay.

"Them frat fucks couldn't hit for shit, love, swear," Brian chuckled from the front seat. "Don't nobody fuck with our girl, yeah?"

"'Our girl'?" You repeated in amusement.

"You's Tangie's girl, yeah?" The guy next to you, codename Fuji, softly explained, "Makes you's untouchable, it does, yeah?"

You just chuckled slightly, readjusting so your arm around Tan's neck tightened; his own around your hips doing the same, silently snuggling closer. The car ride was entertaining to say the least, the lads filling the space with meaningless but very loud conversation about everything and nothing. To your relief, Lemon pulled up to Tan's building first; you two piling out of the car to the sounds of three randy lads cheering.

"C'mere," Tan huffed, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other offered the tinted car The Bird. He lead you towards the building, nodding to the doorman in greeting, "Big man."

This doorman had manned your building since years before you ever moved in; grinning at the sight of you, "Well, well, well... You two look real smitten, you do. There some reason? Aye?"

"Oh, I don't wanna hear it!" You whined jokingly, Tangerine laughing in triumph.

"Got my girl back," Tan clapped his hand into the doorman's, "huh? Told you."

"Aye-heeeyyyy! Welcome home, Missus!"

"Tuh," you barked with a fake laugh, sending Tangerine a sharp look over your shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas," you squeezed the man's arm as you passed.

"Ma'am," he tipped his hat, letting Tan go after you, before securing the door shut.

"Hear that?" You shot at Tan, the lobby attendant sitting up in attention behind the welcome desk. "Even Tom - "

"Don't start before we even get in the door," he chuckled, sighing, nodding to the pimply teen nephew of the building's owner before approaching the elevator bay.

"Don't be a dick - "

"I'm not trying to be, love, I just - I want us to get inside before we do. Yeah?" He frowned, petting hair from your forehead as the elevator dinged upon arrival. "I want us to talk 'bout it, alluvit, doll, but let us get home first."

You sighed and agreed, the machinery traveling up to your flat's floor; which required a key to access. There were only four flats on this floor - all having two stories - and when the elevator dinged to announce your arrival, one of the doors flew open.

You gasped, hand slapping to your mouth to hold in the shrill laughter that rammed into your lips in a desperate attempt to escape. Your eyes widened. You stopped short in your place when Ms. Roberts sauntered into her doorway, leaning on the frame in brand new, expensive, racy lingerie. Her greying hair was curled in stiff ringlets, her make-up heavy and obvious, smelling like she had bathed in perfume by the way it choked you in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, there. About time you got home - OH!" She purred in a low, sexy rumble before jumping in fright when she caught sight of you under Tangie's protective arm. With a squeal, she ducked back into her home and slammed the door; leaving you and Tan froze in place.

"Oh... My... God."

"Get inside, let's go, c'mon, inside, inside, inside, I won't survive if she comes back," Aaron laughed, ushering you to the door.

"I don't think she would, either," you couldn't help but giggle; entering over the threshold after Tan unlocked the door.

The lighter energy surrounding you two evaporated as you took note that Tangerine hadn't changed anything in the year (and change) you've been separated, a haunting comfort to see now. There was the familiar ghost of who you once were, but all of that was forgotten when Tan's hand slid around your waist from behind.

"All right, love?" He asked in your ear, mouthing at the shell in the way that made your head fall to the side.

"Just a lot of memories here," you whispered, holding his arms to your waist.

Tangerine licked at your exposed neck. "We'll make more," he promised.

"I'm sorry I missed so many."

He paused, sighing; forcing you to shiver from the shock of air over your wet skin. Tan straightened up but kept you in his arms, assuring, "It's my fault. But, uh..." Your head turned to look, watching Tan pull his wallet out and sigh sheepishly, open it, then pluck a gorgeous diamond ring from the bill slot.

"What the hell is that...?"

"When I found it, I first kept it in the box, always on me. Just in case, you know, the moment was right - that you'd believe me when I ask you to marry me. But the box kinda," he shrugged, "fell apart from me openin' it, movin' it around."

"So you put a," you squinted, holding his wrist to look at the ring pinched in his fingers, "3 karat diamond ring in your wallet?"

"3 and a half..."

"Aaron," you sighed, turning to face him fully; unable to tear your gaze away from the ring. "I don't want this ring if - "

"No, no 'ifs'," he rushed, "I swear, it's what I want - it's what I've always wanted and just couldn't admit. After tonight, I don't think I can keep this ring - it needs on your finger and that bastard needs put in the ground - "

"Can you not ruin this proposal by threatening to murder my ex?" You laughed, watching his split lips spread into a grin.

"This a proposal?"

"If you word it right, could be."

"Lemme get on my knee - "

"No," you stopped him, nodding, whispering, "just ask me."

Aaron blinked once in confusion, then simply asked, "Will you marry me?"

You levitated into his arms; arms coiling around his neck; lips to his; sucking air from his lungs into yours, mumbling, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. In surprise, Aaron stumbled back a few steps but caught himself, chuckling, fully hoisting you into his embrace.

"Right answer," he teased, carrying you through the apartment and to the nearest piece of furniture - the couch. Dropping down with you straddling his lap, he chuckled, "Here, put it on, yeah? Keep it safe." You grinned and accepted the ring, letting him slide it on, but unable to admire it in full as it became a free-for-all frenzy; tearing clothes from the other, lips suckling, teeth clashing, spit smearing. Breaking apart for a moment, Tangerine growled, "I don't know if I love or hate tonight, huh? Seein' you with him, sayin' you'll marry me, comin' home - "

"Ace, Tangie? Baby?" You smirked, holding his cheeks to keep his face in front of yours, "Tonight's good - it's a good night. Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"It's a good night - say it."

"A good night - great night."

"Great fuckin' night," you agreed, "now, I need you to fuck me before I spontaneously combust - "

Aaron's mouth was on yours before the words were fully formed. You gasped, holding on tightly, encouraging his tongue to tangle with yours as the night's emotions overtook you both in a searing heat of passion. His hands planted on your hips and began guiding your movements in slow, languid strokes over his growing bulge you were seated on.

With a small growl, Tangerine pulled back only to flip you over; laying your back to the cushions so he could hover over you, his hips grinding between your spread legs. "Mine," he grit, licking into your mouth as he pushed his cock directly into your moistening center, "all mine. Hear me? All fucking mine - you won't ever be with another man. Yeah?"

You weakly whimpered, nodding; his teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling. Your breast was palmed by a hot and heavy hand; gasping when Tangie pinched your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

"Nah, nah, nah," Tan grumbled, "wanna hear you say it, baby. Need to hear it."

Boldly, you reached out to rub the heel of your palm into his leaking member, managing to speak against his lips, "I'm all yours, Aaron. Never anyone else's."

"Yeah?" He grit.

"Yeah," you nodded, giving a flex of your hand that made his shoulders stiffen, "and no other man will know me - nor will I know another man. It's you and me."

"About fuckin' time; ain't never lettin' you go again, baby," he breathed, taking both wrists in his to pin over your head. "Now... Let me make up for this past year."

Ms. Roberts wore noise canceling headphones the entire night and began researching new apartment buildings available for move-in ASAP.

Dawn broke, filling the room with a warm, bright light that accentuated the smoke wafting from Aaron's mouth. Neither of you got any sleep; exhausted in the best way possible, laid in bed, your head on his shoulder with arms bent to mindlessly twiddle together in the air.

"Remember that first retreat your company sent employees on?" Aaron asked softly, his other hand flicking his cigarette ash into a nearby ashtray.

"Hm... The one to Cancún?"

"Yeah."

"The one I missed 'cause we had a 48-hour romp?"

Tangerine laughed slightly, "That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Just... Laying here made me think of it. How fucked-out you were, how you missed your damn plane."

"You made me miss it!"

"That sounds accusatory."

You grinned when he lowered the cigarette to your lips, letting you puff it before pulling away. On exhale, you reminded, "You're the one who couldn't cut me a damn break."

"Since when do you want me to go easy on this pussy? Huh?"

With a snicker, you mused, "When you're whiskey-drunk and I'm drinking champagne?"

Tangie paused, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, that's fair. Whiskey dick ain't a joke, love."

You hummed and turned on your side into him, hiking your leg over his hips; snuggling into his warmth, new angle allowing you to gaze up at him. His arm laid around you in a secure hold, the other lazily smoking. You added, "Neither is being champagne drunk, makes me queazy."

"Probably not the best combination for fucking, huh?"

"I don't recommend it."

Aaron was quiet a moment, inhaling toxic smoke with a hiss through his teeth, "Bet they got champagne on them planes to Cancún."

"Bet they got champagne for other destinations, too," you teased. "Besides, why do you care? You're banned from popping bottles."

"Huh? Since when - why?"

"Since you sprayed me with a bottle that cost more than $3,000 USD!"

"If I can't spray my girl in luxury, what the fuck is this all for?" He smirked, looking down at you fondly.

"That bottle was meant to shmooze the German Ambassador!"

"Well, someone should've put a label on it!" You laughed his name, feeling his arm tighten. He tacked on, "Y'know, I gotta admit, just doesn't feel real yet."

"Hmm?"

"You... Back in my arms, in our bed - our home," he gave a great big deep sigh.

"It'll get real when people know we're back together."

"Is it wrong I want it to just be us for a bit? Private, intimate, just being together without everyone's outside influence or opinion?"

You smiled softly, "No, it's not wrong... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the same."

"Then how about we catch a flight outta here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he beamed, suddenly struck with renewed vigor; positively radiating with excitement. You pulled off his chest in time for him to sit up, insisting, "Let's do it all again, baby. Let's catch a flight, change the weather to celebrate us promising forever."

"Tangie, baby, what're you talking about? We can't just up and leave - "

"Why not?"

"We have jobs! Or at least, I have a job with a consistent schedule."

"Oh, c'mon, doll, don't think too hard - let's go, let's catch a flight somewhere warm and sunny."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Tangerine shrugged, "Not likely. Can think of it as some engagement celebration - but just between us. I mean, it's never gonna be 'just us' again, you know?"

With a sigh, you agreed, "All right... Let's go."

"All right?"

"Yeah, all right, fine."

"Yeah? All right? Fine?"

"Oh, fuck about - don't parrot me, Aaron!"

He chuckled with a grin so wide, you wondered how it didn't split his face in two. Your fiancé playfully dropped onto your front; jostling the bed, arms planted on either side of you to keep his weight balancd while dotting rapid kisses around your face.

When satisfied, he pulled back and all but bounced out of bed while encouraging, "Let's go, c'mon!"

"Baby, wait - "

"You grab the passports, I'll pack for us!"

You paused to watch him rush into the walk-in closet, laughing and muttering as you climbed out of bed, "I'm gonna be in questionable clothing this whole vacation, aren't I?" There was a fond smile on your face.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[spuirrelwiththeletterp]

cutely slides in the yap post about their Sans AU that was previously accidently posted and jumps out of a window 😊

I've posted some art of my kid, but haven't given their name(I did) or any other info. I will eventually make a proper info post on them, but for now...

this booger right here is Error Print Sans, or just Print Error (or Error Print)

an absolute feck ton of words under the cut that's me just throwing up my thoughts ⇓

they originally started out as a passing thought that was just Error!Sans but CMYK colors, which evolved into a whole different character who didn't even have anything CMYK going on and I forgot about them for around two or three years until I re-entered my Undertale/UTMV phase recently. seriously disliked the character and the direction I took them in so I decided to start from scratch, took the original CMYK concept, and Print Error was born

am still working out their lore. I have ideas for some events that led to their current state, though how they got into the Anti-Void or why their attire changed after becoming an error is still beyond me

I called them Print Error because inkjet printers use CMYK ink and they're an error (very creative ik) they also feel weird being called just Print but they don't know why

even though I made its design with the CMYK color model in mind, its more CMY than CMYK due to actually not having any black, the way its body works just makes it look like it has black↴

Print Error's being is composed of 3 overlapping color layers (cyan, magenta, yellow) that each depict how much of that magic they have. less saturated colors means less magic left, and running out of all three colors will leave Print Error in a mindless "no color" or "all white" state where they can't use any magic unless they absorb color through physical contact

the alignment of Print Error's layers reflect their mental state. more misaligned layers means more mentally unstable or intense Print Error's emotions. more aligned layers means Print Error is more "there" in their own chaotically fragmented way, but layers rarely ever align too closely...

Their body is not affected by lighting, which means they stick out like a sore thumb with their bright colors and vantablack bones (it's already hard enough to just make the effect, shading them would just be an absolute nightmare 😭)

Print Error's strings are much thicker than a typical error's and come from both its eyes and mouth. Print Error can additionally absorb CMY colors from objects/beings with its strings

Print Error's attacks (bones, gaster/printing error blaster blasts) come in cyan, magenta, and yellow, which all have their own properties, but Print Error can't control what color their attack will be half of the time

Print Error is cold to the touch but has thermoanesthesia, so it doesn't know its a walking ice cube. its confused why others react so weird when coming in physical contact with it

Print Error does not understand social cues and personal space. they're often in a chaotically playful mood, though not always

Print Error is morally grey and can't tell the difference between good and bad, everything is neutral to it... apart from mistakes

Print Error's thoughts are inconsistent, usually jumping from one topic to another, having multiple thoughts at once, or not having any thoughts at all. it usually "lives in the moment", often going with the flow

Print Error's fragmented mind kind of leaves them absent minded most of the time, getting easily distracted and forgetting things like it's nobody's business. though they can often hold their focus if they're intrigued by something

even with a horrible memory, Print Error can remember things at random, though often it's something that it was previously intrigued by, or just something completely random. either way its gonna forget not even 2 seconds later

Print Error deeply believes that any mistake, no matter how small, can be catastrophic, causing them to have a sort of perfectionist mindset. they try to avoid making any mistakes, and punish themself over any mistakes they do make (leaving out details)

if Print Error witnesses someone else make a mistake, there's a chance their mind might not register it, but more often than not, will get seriously exasperated at the person for making a mistake and might even crash out of frustration. not because of the mistake itself, but more so out of fear for the person, though Print Error doesn't recognize the feeling nor reason behind it

though they do heal quicker than usual, it's a double-edged sword as it subconsciously encourages Print Error's more self-destructive behavior

I originally had Print Error have excellent depth perception, until I thought of Print Error seeing everything in the same layered effect others see them in. definitely gonna explore that idea!

there are many more ideas I have for Print Error but I don't know how to "coherently" include them so those are gonna be revealed over time 😉

If anyone wants to ask anything about Print Error, feel free to ask! I would love to answer any questions about them and I got nothing but time!

been stressing over this post for like two weeks and I just set a deadline so I wouldn't tweak things till the heat death of the universe

was heavily inspired by @ossiethegreat's Static Hue/Error!Color post to make my own rant on my own kid, so there might be some similarities cuz I am oh so ✨️creative✨️. link to the post because I absolutely loved reading its ideas and I love Hue

I AM SO SORRY OZ IF YOU DID GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THE UNFINISHED VERSION OF THIS POST THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN I AM SO FRICKING SORRY 😭😭😭

I really tried to explain my thoughts and I feel like I failed in certain areas 😭 I struggle with explaining my ideas and especially the more in-depth ones, so some things might change if I find better ways to explain them

I definitely plan to share more of this gremlin, and especially if more than one person is interested in them!

also found some older drawings of Print Error I made previously but didn't share, so I'm sharing now because I don't think I would have shared these at any point in the future

also a lil lore one 👀 which I like but also don't like

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hi! Could I request anything EJ related? Preferably romance. Fluff, angst, whatever you have ideas for, I just love him. Thank you, it’s always great to see your writing, you write so well!

I bring you October/Fall EJ rambles, I hope you enjoy <3 :)

It is October, and this just randomly popped into my head, but the thought of taking Jack to a pumpkin patch and him using his increased sense of smell to help you find the pumpkins that are in the best condition and aren't too old, so you can have the best pumpkins possible. I feel like he would hover over you while you wander around, and he can tell you if a pumpkin around you is too old before you even lift it to his nose. He also tends to hover around you when you go to carve said pumpkins. He can't see, so he can't really efficiently help you carve at all, but honestly, I see him offering to help you clean out the inside of the pumpkin because he can at least feel where all the strings and seeds are. He does make sure you're extra careful so you don't hurt yourself.

Listen, October is also prime sweater weather, and Jack is a sweater GUY. I feel like he'd go sweater shopping with you, again, because he cannot see, and have you pick out sweaters for him that you think he looks nice in. So long as they're soft and fit him comfortably, he generally doesn't mind what they look like (so long as they aren't absolutely ridiculous), but he does have a preference for flat colors. If they're simple enough though, he doesn't mind if you get him some that have designs, like maybe a Halloween one, or a Christmas one when it gets to that time of year. Prime sweater season also means it's prime season for you to steal his sweaters for yourself and wear them around. As much as he acts like it's an inconvenience for you to do so, he finds it incredibly cute and it makes some part of his demonic instinct brain feel very happy that you're doing this, as if it's exerting his claim on you as your mate. Before you know it, he begins "accidentally" leaving his sweaters out around his room for you to steal. He loves cuddling up to you when you're wearing them because you get so warm and the fabric is so soft, he'll just snuggle you for hours like that.

When it starts getting colder out, Jack starts to get into his pouty sleepy era as well. My Jack is cold sensitive and can end up hibernating if he experiences too much coldness for too long of a period, so he does his best to not get too cold. However, even just a bit of a chill has him growing drowsy, and it's incredibly adorable to watch him just grow really sleepy when you're outside on a chilly day. He curls in a bit in his seat, gripping his sweater in his lap with his hands, his head bobbing forward as he feels himself drifting off. If you dare to chuckle about it (you will), he gets a little grumpy, but he's just so cute when he's pouting with drowsiness slurred speech, trying to tell you off for laughing at him, and it just makes you laugh even more because it's peak adorableness, and he gets to grumpy at you. He'll forgive you if you take him inside to sit by the fire and cuddle, so he can warm right back up and get his energy back, after which he will proceed to tickle you and carry you around in the air for daring to laugh at him for getting sleepy. It doesn't actually bother him at all, he just likes any excuse to pester you.

[littleeyesofpallas]

Are Kyoraku's game abilities actually based on real Japanese children games? I only know about the Daruma one.

Sorry i put this off so long, i kept meaning to go dig up the old anime episodes to see if the anime added or changed anything, but never did. I'm just leaning on the fan wikia to take inventory and trusting they didn't overlook anything...

Bushogoma[不精独楽]: "Lazy SpinningTop" is the type of spinning top toy you usually see in Japan, where you wind a bit of string around the top to use like a rip chord to send it spinning; as opposed to the sort you'd spin by hand or something.

(It's similar to the beigoma tops that Beyblades are based on.)

(Oh a good thing to note here is that in the japanese version of the game we generally refer to as "tag" as well as the "it" role in it is called "oni" as in a demon/ogre. So the term in all the associated "XYZ-Oni" attacks could functionally just be translated as "XYZ-Tag")

TakaOni[嶄鬼]: "(High/Steep)Mountain Tag" is a play on takaoni[高鬼]: "High(up) Tag" a variation of tag where the tagger must be at even or higher elevation than the person they're tagging. i.e. players higher up than the tagger are considered safe. The "taka" is also a homonym with taka[鷹]: "hawk/falcon" and seems to be a play on how hawks hunt by diving at their prey, meaning they have a blind spot above them.

KageOni[影鬼] "Shadow Tag" is a variation of tag where instead of tagging the person themselves, whoever is "it" has to touch their shadow to tag them out.

IroOni[艶鬼]: "colorful/lustrous oni" is actually a pun on irooni[色鬼]: "Color Tag." Unlike in the manga the rule is usually that once a color is declared, touching anything of that color is considered "safe," so each round is a matter of chasing down players until everyone is either out or safe, then declaring a new target color.

Daruma-san ga koronda[だるまさんがころんだ] got the most attention I think of the whole line up and is the Japanese name for what I think it most commonly called "Red Light, Green Light" in English.

(Pretty notably the manga Kami-sama no Iu Touri[神さまの言うとおり] aka As The Gods Will used it as the first big game in their death game series, with a literal Japanese daruma doll. It's also what Squid Game stole its first game plot from, beat for beat.)

Kageokuri[影送り]: "Shadow send(off)" i don't know that this is really a "game" but it's when you stare at your shadow on the ground for a bit then up at the sky and can see your shadow's afterimage.

BBS adds Yubikiri[指斬り]: lit."finger beheading" as in to cut off the "head" of a finger. It's what we'd call a "pinky promise" in English, the idea being that you've sworn to keep whatever promise at the cost of cutting off your pinky if you aren't faithful to it.

...as well as Kagome kagome[囲召籠目]: "encircled basket eye" a pun on[籠目籠目]: "basket eye, basket eye." Children hold hands in a circle with an oni/it in the middle, they dance around in said circle singing while the center child keeps their eyes close, and when the song ends the oni/it has to guess who is directly behind them. The tune of the song that goes with it is extremely recognizable.

Some of the old videogames had original techniques but those were largely made before any of his actual powers were revealed so they're mostly just like wind elemental attacks and don't contribute to the theme.(ugh... goddamnit now that i went and looked for it i realize there's like zero info around most of those old games and it makes me want to download emulator files for them all and look up all their move lists... i dont want to actually do all that tho...)

Honestly I'm surprised Katen and Kyokotsu didn't have any anime original abilities in the filler arc or something...

They do have a BBS card with the move Utage-no-Ikkyou[宴の一興]: "Amusement/(Brief)Entertainment of (a) Feast/Party" which isn't really a game of any sort. at least not specifically. It would refer to something like a bit of song and dance interlude at a feudal era banquet. Admittedly a clever intersection of Katen and Kyokotsu's differing types of play -children's game vs adult entertainment.

[hellsslibrary]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚NSFW Alphabet with Azul Ashengrotto˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : switch!top!male!reader, switch!bottom!Azul, size difference kink, oral, toys, cock warming, praise/humiliation kink, power dynamic, ink(I'm not sorry).

#a.n. : While everyone is writing kinktobers, I'm still trying to finish this. But wait after the alphabets, there will be kinktober... In November, to make it more convenient (and maybe earlier, if I try). Also, no pictures today because I want to redo the decor, and I'm writing this part of Azul for two beautiful ladies, so...(I'll add them later)

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He is embarrassed about this (just a little), but he will help put things in order in what he and his partner have done. Prefers to rest a bit before cleaning, but if his partner starts, he will certainly help too. Especially if he was in a dominant position.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part as well as their partners)

Well, in your body it would... Certain parts. He definitely has a kink for the size difference (you can't argue with me, I want to pin him against the wall). And he will love anything if it is bigger than his body parts? Palms, muscles, if any, tongue, di—. Yes.

Honestly, he really likes his chest, and not just the nipples specifically, he likes it when his partner touches him anywhere on the chest in general. I just have a headcanon that he has very petite chest, even for a guy and well... Sorry.

C = Cum (basically anything related to sperm)

So... His sperm has the most ordinary consistency. It is released quite a bit during orgasm, but it tastes quite salty. There is his ink in the sperm (fanfiction with the overblot form of Azul is always in my head, maybe I’ll write them too someday)

Mmm, I think he likes it when people cum in his mouth. Fish sperm, according to internet experts, is simply disgusting. So he likes this taste, definitely.

D = Dirty Secret (Self-explanatory, their dirty secret)

He is the power bottom almost always, simply because he is flattered by the idea of control. But damn, he has moments where he just wants you to take it all into your own hands and take it as you please, mostly without considering his opinion (but still having his consent to it, of course).

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they are doing?)

... No. Simply no. He's definitely a virgin. I doubt he even knows much about sex in theory. Well, dick, hole there, sperm, orgasm. That's all, okay?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style~. Don't lie to me that you didn't want to bend him over his table in the VIP room, I won't believe you (it's not exactly doggy style, but who cares). He mostly refuses to look you in the face when you're dominant, so why not.

If he is dominant... Missionary position? I just like the idea of a dominant bottom underneath a service top and well... Azul would be a good fit. He likes to be snuggled anyway.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Extremely serious, but with a hint of playfulness, if that makes sense. For example, if he has sex with a partner, it means that they literally mean the world to him and he is exposing a part of himself that is really vulnerable, so he likes it if both parties take it very seriously, but he also likes to have an opportunity to tease you and pull your strings just to see how you react.

H = Hair (How well groomed is it? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I wouldn't say he's shaved, but his hair is definitely short, so there's no real need for that. The color is absolutely identical and they are also slightly curly, just like this hairstyle...

I = Intimacy (How are they feeling at the moment? Romantic aspect.)

He is very romantic in general. As I said earlier, he exposes a part of himself that is truly vulnerable, so when his partner takes it seriously, he feels very loved, generally respected and accepted, so he becomes much more romantic both sexually and in general .

J = Jack off (Main canon of masturbation)

He has a lot of stress in his life, you know? So, fuck... I think he would like to do this more often, but he doesn't do it often anyway. He still prefers your hands.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He probably likes to be humiliated and praised at the same time, and I can't explain it for the world, but I know it. Also likes power dynamics, likes to be bossed around and have less power than the other person, but still respected. But when it comes to dominating you—... For now. He also loves getting your cock warm (sorry). Well... I like to attribute this kink to all busy characters, except for Vil, what will you do to me.

L = Location (Favorite places to do things)

Very personal to him, so the only place he could really do this is either his room, his partners room, or some motel if he's really desperate. Specifically and for the most part, this is his room because he knows where everything is and he has certain toys that he can just pull out whenever he wants. Although... With a lot of persuasion or no choice (if one of you was EXTREMELY horny), he would agree to have sex in a less secluded place

M = Motivation (what turns them on, turns them on)

When he and his partner have a truly romantic relationship (that is, serious) or when you start whispering all sorts of dirty things in his ear and touching his thighs, for example.

N = No (Something they wouldn't do is disabled)

Hmm, I should at least list with someone no (with Vil there will be a direct list, lol), but Azula will also receive this honor. Rape, he also really doesn't like threesomes because he feels it's more about getting laid than actually caring about each other and wants to dedicate all his love to one person in particular. And also his real form until a very distant moment in the relationship.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. You can't tell me otherwise because this man looks like he was made to be flexed, especially with his skinny waist like...(sorry, I got carried away) and he probably doesn't mind either sit on your face (if that’s what you’re into, of course). The ratio would be something like this: 60% for you, 40% for you.

He's not particularly good at giving blowjobs, but it's all made better by his enthusiasm to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible... As long as he's not teasing or denying your orgasm, of course.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He is slow and sensual as he loves to enjoy every moment he can spend with his partner in this way. Also wants to make sure that the other person knows that he loves them for real, and not just for sex.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickie games, how often, etc.)

Doesn't like quick games, but if he's really busy and his partner wants to do it, he'll agree to one. Well... Actually, they happen quite often, if I may confess.

R = Risk (are they playing with experiments? Are they taking risks? etc.)

Willing to take risks, but very quickly draws a line under what he doesn't like to do (he absolutely doesn't want many things until he becomes comfortable with his boyfriend/he has more trust in him). He wants to spend time with his partner as fully as possible.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they last? How long will they last?)

He becomes very weak in this position, so can usually only last about 7-10 rounds at most (still a reminder that this is a magical world, kittens). He actually only tries three or so, but if his partner wants to try a few more, he's more than welcome. True, only a few.

T = Toys (Do they have toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He probably has a dildo that he pleasures himself with from time to time, but he only really uses one. He takes good care of it and always makes sure it's properly cleaned so he doesn't get an infection or get sick or anything like that. Not a big fan of toys in general, but if that's what you want, he's okay with it.

U = Unfair (How much they love to tease)

He really likes both sides of the coin. He enjoys both teasing his partner and receiving teasing from him. Loves it when he squirms under his partner and he starts making comments about it, although he always complains about it, he likes it. And I also like the completely mirrored version.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very loud because he often forgets to be quiet, the only thing he can really think about is his partner at that moment so nothing else matters. Although, if you persuade him to have sex outside of your rooms with him... He will hardly utter a sound, he is too ashamed.

W = Wild Card (random character headcanon)

He... Loves... Jerk... You... With...His... Tentacles. Okay, listen to me. When in the end, you gain his trust completely, he will agree to many things in his form. And damn... The tentacles are clearly faster and more skillful than his arms (even if they are quite chubby).

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

12 cm/just under 5 inches. He has a mole on his balls. His balls are surprisingly quite large and plump.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Like I said, his sex drive is quite high considering his stress level, but on average... He's fine with about 2-3 times a week. Although, what if you want more? He's all yours.

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep later)

Doesn't fall asleep right away, he likes to compliment his partner or talk a little before he falls asleep. If his partner is asleep, he can simply lie there for 10-20 minutes and come to the realization of what he just did before falling back to sleep.

[nightingale2004]

Teen wolf next generation: Sterek version

Let's meet the Stilinski Hale kids

Talia Erica Stilinski Hale

Faceclaim: Brianna Hildebrand

First born daughter of Derek and Stiles

Named after Derek's mother and former beta

Takes after Derek. She is a werewolf and is the future Alpha of her pack

Such an overprotective big sister

Loves her leather jackets

Speaks Spanish and a little polish

Works with Derek at his auto shop

☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆

Benjamin "Ben/Benji" Noah Stilinski Hale

Faceclaim: Cole Sprouse

Second oldest of the Stilinski Hale's

He takes after Stiles in sarcasm and the love of mysteries but can be pretty intimidating like Derek and older sister.

He is also a werewolf, and he is also pretty blunt

He is very weird, but he embraces it.

Stiles works at the FBI, running his own operation that looks into supernatural related cases

●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●

Miguel Vernon Stilinski Hale

Faceclaim: Tyler Young

He is the middle child

Big loner and antisocial. A bit of an emo boy (so takes after Derek)

He also takes after Stiles since he randomly knows random facts about pretty much anything

Incredibly smart

He is a spark and future emissary of his pack

He had inherited Derek's brooding face

Also uses color coded highlighters and string for his assignments

He is jealous of his werewolf siblings but loves them all very much

Stiles and Miguel are more close with each other

Ben and Miguel help out their dad (from the distance) with his cases

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Claudia Laura Stilinski Hale

Faceclaim: Sara Waisglass

Younger child of Stiles and Derek

Named after Stiles's mother and Derek's late older sister

She's a sweetheart, and everyone loves her

Older twin to Eli (hates him, but loves him at the same time)

She is also a spark and like Miguel, she is also an emissary in training

Both her and Miguel are trained under Deaton

She's a cheerleader in Beacon Hills high

She is Noah's favorite (🤫🤫 don't tell anyone)

Can get away with anything

She and Miguel speak fluent Polish

She and her siblings all live in the new old Hale house that Derek rebuilt from scratch

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Elias "Eli" Mitchell Stilinski Hale

Faceclaim: Vince Mattis

Troublemaker in the family and pup in the family (he hates the pup part)

Youngest twin (believe it or not)

Annoys, his siblings, and his parents to no end

Secretly jealous of all his siblings but loves them at the same time (never tells them that, but they know)

Takes after Stiles by.............A LOT

Him and Claudia have twin telepathy and can sense what the other is feeling

He's not the greatest lacrosse player, but he loves doing it anyway

He loves it when his family comes to see him play and when his twin cheers for him

His siblings cover him a lot (I mean A LOT) since he gets in trouble (A LOT)

He is closest to Stiles and Claudia

That's all I got for the Stilinski Hale pack. Hope you teen wolf and Sterek lovers enjoy ❤️🐺🦊

[werecreature-addicted]

Damn…Ceaser really is the fucking worst! 🤬🤬🤬 He’d blame us for “shaking up his life” from a teen pregnancy even though there’s the saying, “it takes two to tango.” Then continue to emotionally neglect and abuse us!

At least his parents would be good to us and their grand baby. 🥺🥺🥺 How’d they end up with a piece of trash as their son?

I’d be super easy to leave Ceaser with or without a baby, after the revealing of his true colors and decisions. Bro can’t ever step up and take accountability or responsibility without being an absolute ass about it! I’m convinced he wouldn’t do shit even if confronted with a waterfall of tears 🙄🙄🙄

Sorry this ask really annoyed me.

Yeah Ceaser wouldn’t be happy about an unplanned teen pregnancy with his no strings attached relationship. You can like sex and not want a baby. Ceaser is an asshole sure but idk man I think it would be more unrealistic if he did a whole 180 and started being really sweet and soft with the reader. sorry the 18-year-old wasn't emotionally mature enough to handle fatherhood I guess.

I also don't know what you mean by "revealing his true colors" What part of what I said was out of character or shocking for him?

And if you think he wouldn’t do anything even if the reader was genuinely upset and crying okay???? I didn’t say that. I did say that he stays in the reader and the baby's life supporting them financially and introducing them to his parents before eventually coming around to the idea of having a family.

I get that a lot of people don’t like Ceaser, at least not the way he is. I know he’d be more popular if he was an asshole with a heart of gold. Or mean to everyone but the reader. That’s not the kind of character he is and that’s not what I want to write, at least not for him.

[ochrearia]

RGB Trio according to my Synesthesia

Been mentioning it on and off for a bit but I experience the world differently. "What is a Synesthesia Portrait?" Good question! I have synesthesia, specifically the one that connects hearing and sight called Chromesthesia. What that means is sounds/songs will trigger visions of shapes and colors for me whenever I listen. Due to this music is a super important part of how I process the world in general, and what I grew up learning was to perceive people's personalities as music too. Everyone has a song out there that encapsulates who they are to me! Even fictional characters if I know enough. So, I bridge the gap and make it so people/characters have these abstract portraits of themselves. Stylized, of course, in reality these forms are much more blurred together than crisp in lines. I just paint them in this way to make it a little more understandable.

I've been a little disconnected from making synesthesia art for some time and this is my way of getting back into it. Turning my blorbos into art because I'm cringe and free. "But they don't really have personalities in FNF" you underestimate my ability to derive pieces of people from the smallest "insignificant" actions. I pay ATTENTION. Here's their songs in order of BF, GF, and Pico-

BF, and I describe him as a goddamn tranquilizer dart to the head because it's correct. Despite being a gremlin piece of shit he's dedicated and confident and stupidly, brainlessly fearless. And his intentions can come off very sweet regardless of him being a menace. Dude's passionate about what he thinks is right and fights for it. Weird how he always seems to win like he overpowers everyone with his own sound, talks them down and placates them without ever needing actual words.

GF, because she may also be a bit (a lot) brainless but it's with an air of mischief and mysticism that feels like dancing a waltz. She seems like the sweetest and kindness person out there because honestly, she probably is. Despite being dumb she's definitely hiding emotional smarts in that pretty head. And she's strong too, strong within herself and strong because she's a demon. But no matter what and no matter how little we end up really seeing her she manages to capture the attention like the way a violin's strings pierce through any sound.

Pico, because he's lived through so much bad and maybe he might end up considering himself bad and unredeemable too. Playing into the idea he's a merciless killer who can be bought into doing anything terrible but he didn't pull the trigger when he was supposed to, twice. Loyal and moral when it comes to the people he cares about. Outwardly spiky and cold like a snowstorm but at the center it's only a soft flurry, lonely and wondering if he's really a lost cause or not. But it's okay, he's got friends that stick around and think otherwise.

[catghoststories]

Unscripted Kiss - A Sally x Julie One-Shot

Summary: Frank and Eddie like each other. Sally doesn't know this. She also doesn't know that she has a crush of her own.

Words: 1,576

Pairings: Sally Starlet x Julie Joyful, Eddie Dear x Frank Frankly

Characters: Sally Starlet, Julie Joyful, Frank Frankly, Eddie Dear

⭐ AO3 Link Here, and You Can Also Read the Full Story Below! 🌺

~⭐🌺~

~ Unscripted Kiss ~

“Me?  And Frank?  Kiss?”

Sally groaned, throwing her hands up into the air.  “Yes, Julietta!  It’s the romantic climax of the entire play!"

Julie sat on the ground, her pink and white dress fluffing up around her.  “But Frank just ate a cough drop!  I don’t want that to be my first kiss.”

Sally’s eye twitched.  “Julie…”

“I'm not kissing her.”  Frank crossed his arms, looking equally unimpressed.

"Franklin, you must!  It’s in the script!”

"I mustn’t do anything," Frank snapped.  He fiddled with the buttons on his suit jacket like he had all afternoon, before finally yanking it off over his head.  "And for the twentieth time, it's Frank!"

A chuckle from behind Sally snapped her last bit of patience like an old violin string.  “What's so funny, mailman?”

“He has a name, you know.  Do you know any of our names?  I'm beginning to think you don't.”

Sally glared at Frank before turning her ire back onto Eddie, who didn’t notice.  He sat cross-legged on the grass between their houses, Sally's manuscript in one hand, the costume he was sewing in the other.  “Miss Starlet, I was just thinkin’.  Wouldn't it be better if the princess professed her love to the prince before kissin’ him?  Seems a bit outta nowhere otherwise.”  He licked his finger and turned the page.  “Just thought it'd be a bit more romantic-like.”

“Aww.  That'd be cute!” Julie agreed.

"If it delays the inevitable," Frank sighed.  Julie giggled.

“Ugh!”  Sally threw her script onto the ground.  "You peon!  As if you know anything about the theater!”  But she knew for a fact that Eddie did.  Annoyingly, the mailman was the most well-read out of all them—excluding herself, of course.  “You do it, then, if you're such an expert!"

Eddie's grin evaporated.  "Ma'am?"

"You heard me.  You be the princess.”  Sally curled her lips, feeling smug.  “You kiss Frank.”

To her utter satisfaction, Frank looked mortified.  "What!  Why me?"

"Why not?  You’ve been complaining about this scene since I cast you.  Perhaps Edward can make it better for you, hm?"  Sally wielded her rolled-up script.  "Go ahead, mailman.  Show us how it’s done."

"All righty, then."  Eddie stood and dusted himself off.  He approached Frank, stopping a respectful distance away.  He took off his blue mail cap and held it in his hands, as if about to enter his house of worship.  "This okay with you, Mr. Frankly?"

Frank lowered his eyes.  "It's fine."  

He can barely speak! Sally thought with glee.  It wasn’t often that she got a leg up on both the mailman and the neighborhood grinch.

But her attitude changed when Eddie brushed Frank's bangs out of his eyes.

"You had some glitter on ya."  Eddie gave a lopsided smile.

Frank snorted.  "Did I?”

"It was probably from me.  Y'know, from the papier-mâché flowers I was makin' earlier?"

Frank’s sour look dissipated, replaced with a light flush.  “Oh yes.  I think you did a wonderful job.  You always have such nice color choices, Mr. Dear.”

Sally watched this exchange with a frown.  They’re awfully friendly, all of a sudden.  “Edward, if you're going to do this, get on with it.  We don't have all day!"

"Kiss kiss kiss!" Julie cheered, her tiara toppling off her head.

That got Eddie's attention.  “Right!”  Despite Sally’s request, he yet again arranged Frank’s hair, then stepped closer.  “Mr. Frankly—I mean, Mr. Prince—I want you to know that I love you.  Always have, always will.”  He touched Frank’s cheek, then leaned forward, gently placing his mouth over Frank’s.

Sally was sure it would be over in a second.  But Eddie’s free hand found enough time to make its way down to Frank’s slender waist.  She was sure Franklin would push him off, but he didn’t.  Instead, he held onto Eddie's large shoulders.  They didn’t kiss just once, either.  Eddie pulled back and returned two more times, once on the lips and once on the cheek.

Sally got the strong impression that this was not their first time doing this.

"All right, cut!” she said.  “That means stop!”  But the two paid her no mind.  They had entered a scene of their own, in a different time, a different place.

“Was that all right for you?” Eddie said softly, when they were finally done.

Sally didn't hear Frank's answer, because Julie interrupted.  "Wow, that looks fun!  I wanna try!"  She jumped up and straightened out her dress.  "Sally, now you be the prince, and I’ll kiss you!"

That shocked Sally even more than the previous display.  She stumbled over her words like she never had before.  "What?  Why me?" 

Julie looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.  “Well, I can’t kiss Frank, and I can't kiss Eddie now, either, because I bet he also tastes like cough drops.  So you!”

“I can’t!"  Sally crumpled up the script in her hands, her last line of defense.  "It’s not in the play!”

“It’s okay to improvise sometimes,” Eddie said, his hand still wrapped around Frank's waist.  Frank's were still on Eddie’s shoulders, but when he saw Sally watching, he quickly removed them.

“But I'm the director!”

“Isn't the director supposed to know how to do everything?” Eddie suggested helpfully.

"Yeah!" Julie agreed with aggressive cheerfulness.  "Oh please, Sally?  I really, really, really need to practice!”

Sally now entered a scene of her own.  The lights dimmed, the audience went silent.  The other actors left the stage.  A monologue.

Are you being foolish again, Starlet? an old voice whispered.  Are you cracking under pressure?  Are you thinking with your heart instead of your head?  That was always your problem, wasn't it, Sallinda?

Sally placed a hand on her stomach and exhaled.  She then ran a finger along each of her sixteen star points, making sure they were all on straight.  "Come here, Julietta."

“Yay!”  Julie gathered up her oversized dress and ran towards her.  Sally couldn’t help but be flattered by her enthusiasm.

Julie stopped in front of her and patted down her hair.  To Sally’s surprise, she seemed fidgety, nervous.  She then remembered that this would be Julie's first kiss.  Well, she'd have to make it a good one.

Sally flitted aside Julie's blonde locks before realizing it.  “It was all over your face.  I didn’t want it getting in the way!”  But she felt embarrassed as soon as she said it.

Julie laughed, a perfect sound, as if ripped straight from a recording.  “Thanks!”

"Hurry up.  We don’t have all day," Frank heckled.  Sally scowled at him.  She noticed Eddie’s hand still hadn't left his side, despite the return of his grumpy demeanor.

Sally shook out her shoulders.  "Could you please close your eyes, Julietta?"  She didn’t want Julie to see how nervous she was, either.

"Okie dokey smokey!"  Julie did so.  Now she looked calm, at peace, like Sleeping Beauty.  Sally took her in, her green eyelids, her button nose, her wide mouth that said so many funny things.  She knew she’d probably never be this close to her again.

“Don’t forget your confession,” Eddie said.  Sally’s heart stopped before she realized what he meant.  Oh.  The play.

“I…really like you, Julietta.  Princess.”  She couldn’t bring herself to say love as easily as the mailman had.  

Sally waited for Julie to move first, per the script, but she didn’t.  So Sally closed her eyes and kissed her instead.  They didn’t open their mouths, but that was somehow better, since Sally could draw closer, hide in Julie’s long bangs.  She waited as long as she could, taking solace in her beauty, her heavenly warmth.

When she pulled back, Julie's cheeks were rosy.  She looked at Sally like she was a star, not just in name only.

“Are you all right?”  Sally grew worried at her uncharacteristic silence.

Julie fluttered her delicate lashes.  “Yes!  Thank you, Sally!  That was really nice!”

Sally smiled, but of course Eddie shattered the moment with his loud voice.  “Say, that was pretty good!  Although Julie's the one who's supposed to make the confession.  An’ she’s supposed to kiss you first.  But I liked your version, too!”

Sally turned to sass him but was caught in Frank’s fierce gaze.  He didn't say a word, but he didn’t have to.

Sally stared back, hoping to match his intimidation.  Do you know what I am, Frankly?  Just like I know you?

Frank watched her a moment longer.  Then he plastered on a fake smile and chirped, "Was that fun for you, Sally?"

Sally gritted her teeth at his annoying falsetto.  "No!  It was all wrong!  All of you, start over again, from the top!"  She went to snatch her script from the ground but paused, staring at the words on the page.  She thought about Julietta’s hair brushing her cheek, a golden curtain, behind the stage, where she could finally feel like herself.  But she shook her head and smoothed out the pages.  “Don’t just stand there!  Act one, scene one!”

Julie startled to attention, but she still hugged Sally before hurrying back into place.  Frank gently removed Eddie's hand from his side and accepted his suit jacket with a sigh.

They returned to their roles, Frank the prince, Julie the princess, Eddie the stagehand, Sally the director.  But as the play went on, Sally couldn’t focus.  All she could think about was how she wished she had cast herself as the prince instead.

~⭐🌺~

Thanks for reading! Stay warm out there!

[modelbus]

HII!! I REALLY LIKE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!! I just read your wilbur soot fic "Radar Detector" and I really LOVED it. I was hoping you could do another wilbur soot songfic cause theyre so good😭 (preferably lover by taylor swift or just any taylor swift song that you'd like.

THATS ALL!! MWA I LOVE UR WRITING!!🫶

I'm so excited to do another song fic you have no idea. Also, a confession: I'm a closet Swiftie...

Pairing: CC!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

Lover

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules

The tree in the living room was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. In your tiredness, all the colorful lights were out of focus and created a mesh of blob colors. It was pretty, in the way that abstract art flows together.

"We really should take that down." Wilbur says from behind you, and you realize that the general warmth around you is him. The arm over your waist, holding you to him and the couch? Him.

"We can leave it up." You answer, yawning. "I like it."

"It's not Christmastime anymore, love." He smiles into your shoulder, making you smile too.

Something about him generates happiness. In your hazy vision, spotted with colorful christmas lights, you can't imagine anything better.

"So? This is our flat."

He laughs. "Point taken."

We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call.

"You're fine, right?" You ask Tommy, giving him a pointed look.

For once in his life, the boy knows how to be subtle and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I'm great."

"We have more blankets if you want them!" Wilbur announces, strolling in with his arms full of blankets. He dumps them all on top of Tommy, eyebrows creased with worry. "You sure you don't mind staying on the couch?"

He nods, rolling his eyes. "I used to sleep on your floor, Wil."

"That was different! And I gave you an air mattress that time!"

"Which is practically the floor. I'm a big man, I can take the fucking couch."

Wilbur turns to you, as if you'll take his side. You may be dating him, but that doesn't mean you're agreeing with him.

"He'll be fine, Wilbur." You assure him.

Tommy was only staying for the night, anyway. One of his vlogs ran late, leaving him here way after dark. And Wilbur wouldn't stand for letting him head home at this time of night. Honestly, you found their brother thing endearing. And it made Wilbur happy, which made you happy.

Besides, Tommy was a good kid. A nightmare at times, but good in heart. Mostly.

Wilbur gives a regretful look at your couch (which is actually pretty nice) before sighing. "Fine, fine. We'll be just down the hall if something happens, so just... wake us. Yeah?"

"Wilbur!" Tommy groans. "Fuck off! I can sleep on your couch!"

"I know! I'm just making sure!"

"Go fucking cuddle or something." Tommy huffs, settling under all the blankets and turning his back to Wilbur.

You laugh softly, flicking off the lights. "C'mon love. Good night, Tommy."

"Night." Wilbur echoes your words, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you so you don't run into a wall on your way to the bedroom. "He'll be fine, right?"

"Of course he will." You say, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. "Now it's our turn to get some rest. Go do your night routine, or whatever."

"Will do." Wilbur agrees, quietly heading off toward the bathroom.

With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.

You ran your thumb over the inside of his palm, prompting Wilbur to squeeze your fingers in return. The callouses on his fingers are rough against your skin, but you don't mind. They're testaments to his love for music, to his commitment to it.

You love them simply because they're a part of him.

"I promised to teach you guitar one day." Wilbur reminds you, voice soft.

"And I still want to learn." You assure him, a smile gracing your face. "Maybe one day I'll get callouses like yours." You add in as a tease.

"No guitar string scars though." He raises your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. It makes you laugh. "I'll teach you how to play guitar safely."

"What, and you don't play safely?"

He nudges you, because you know the answer to that. You've seen too many broken picks and snapped guitar strings. There's a faint scar on his palm where a snapped string cut him, even.

"You'll be so bad at guitar." Wilbur says with a grin. "I can't wait to love you for it."

"Hey!"

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover.

"I'm dying." Wilbur announces, draping himself over the back of your chair dramatically. "I've been shot. I'm dying."

You can't help but roll your eyes, laughing. "Wil, it was a Nerf dart."

"Tell my friends and family I love them." He wails, squeezing onto your hand. "I'll miss you."

"You aren't dying."

"Oh goodbye world! I yearn to feel the sun upon my face, but alas, I die in the cold night!"

"Oh Wilbur!" Tommy crows, darting around a corner with a raised Nerf gun.

Wilbur shouts, hands going for his own Nerf gun, finding nothing. In response, Tommy's smile widens into something evil as he holds up a second Nerf gun.

"Who's the bitch boy?" He asks, eyes wide with delight.

You burst into loud laughter as Wilbur runs from the room, sliding on the wooden floors in his socks.

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover.

Hand on the back of the chair, Wilbur pulls it away from the cloth-covered table for you. You can’t help your grateful smile, sinking into it without a second thought. The wedding you two were at was busy, and you had been on your feet for literal hours. He was a godsend at this moment, and judging by his grin he knew it.

“Water?” You ask, holding up a bottle of water for him. You had originally left his side to grab some, knowing he was thirsty but wouldn’t ask for a water.

“Thank you.” Wilbur says, taking it from you. He presses a kiss to your head before pushing in your chair and sitting down at the one next to you, which has his suit jacket thrown over the back. “Almost payment enough for saving your chair?”

“Almost?” The laugh you let out isn’t dignified in the slightest, but his eyes sparkle like it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“I had to fight a guy off with my fists to keep it.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ll never know if it is or isn’t.” He teases, taking a sip of the water. “But I deserve better payment.”

With a roll of your eyes, you lean forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. He cups your cheek, catching your face before you can pull away, just to prolong the kiss for a moment more before he lets go.

“Happy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“The happiest.”

[bernardellinewsagency]

Have any other Galladay shippers gone diving into HSR lore cause you're a little too obsessed with the game and ended up thinking about how you could create parallels between not only Sunday and Dominicus, but also Gallagher and Aelenev (and that you could make it gay)? Or is it just me who's spending too much time wishing we had more lore about the Harmonic Strings?

Putting my ramblings under the cut cause it's long and there's some spoilers in case anyone still hasn't finished the Penacony quests

Sunday and Dominicus, that's pretty obvious. It's the Wisher of the Harmonious Choir that he attempts to bring forth at the Charmony Festival, using his power as well as the Order to spread Ena's influence among all those slumbering within Penacony. When talking about Dominicus, "A Hymn of Charmonic Strings" says "Prayers you suckle from the millions gathered here, and the masses' heartstrings you play," which could very well allude to Sunday's plan of placing everyone into the most perfect dreams they could wish for, dreams they would never wish to wake from. And like, apparently the name Sunday is even derived from Dominicus or something, according to the etymology notes on the HSR wiki page.

But that same readable mentions Aelenev, the Commander of the Eternal Centurion, and first of all that's just a cool fucking name in general. Second of all, there's several points that can stand out when looking upon the full section of the hymn,

"O, Great One of Paradise, Caress this scripture that is stained by blood on the battlefield, and kiss my longsword of bone and soul, Life is howling, and the sharp blade of streaming colors hangs high. Aelenev, do you hear? The soldiers' bones are buried at the end of the world. Comrades' whisper united, and the gospel can be heard for miles long, Blissful rain pours out thus, and one person equals to thousands. Thought they be the invincible steeds and death, they too long for their home deep in their soul."

The main part that I choose to look at is "one person equals to thousands," as there's lots of ways that could be interpreted. There is, of course, the fact that the Family is basically a hivemind, and also how Aelenev was summoned on one occasion and his sword was "unsheathed from the scabbard of 4,630,000 Hounds" which I take to mean as sort of manifested from their collective minds and wills, so to speak. Similar to how Gallagher is a lie manifested from the traits of 52 loyal Family members, no? And longing for a home deep in their soul, soldiers' bones that have been buried, a scripture stained by blood, I personally think that those could easily be taken as references to Mikhail, the revolution that led to Penacony being formed in the first place, and how Gallagher misses those he used to know. Or maybe not references, but they certainly could hold a similar meaning. I don't know, I'm not a fucking literature major or anything, I study animals and nature. This is just me being a massive nerd on the internet.

Anyways, this is mostly just to wonder if anyone else has/is thinking of using these parallels to make really gay stuff. Sunday should get more weird and fucked up with his affection in fics, because I think it would be really fun to see. Have him call Gallagher "my Aelenev" or something, make him want to craft Gallagher into a wonderful embodiment of the Harmony the same way as he attempted to usurp Dominicus' power. Get weird with it!

Or hey go a step further and make yaoi about the Harmonic Strings themselves. I'd do it. I'd fucking do it. I'm insane about this game's lore sometimes.

Also: Robin could be a parallel for Constantina, the singer of the Panacoustic Theater. That just leaves Beatriz, the merrymaker of the Blissful Ball, who I suppose could be parallel to Sparkle? Not to say that all four of them need to be represented by members of the Penacony cast, I'm just coming up with random thoughts about it.

[rainbowmothed]

a collection of angsty quotes that reminded me of vaggie. inspired by @ lookinginsidemymind on tiktok.

“i think i was born to sting,”

but i don't mean to.”

“im not a violent dog. i dont know why i bite”

“how the absence of someone can feel like the absence of myself.”

“wish you were here. you could tell me what to do.”

“i am angry, i am unlovable. i am mostly afraid those things are true.”

“please stop yelling at me please scratch my back please stick up for me in a conversation i am listening to from the top of the stairs. you are my girlfriend, act like it”

“i wear the army's anger like a hand-me-down. the hotel says it does not look good on me”

“i do not know how to love something without sinking my teeth into it”

“i am the girl screaming. i am also the girl begging to not be screamed at.”

“what if i become angry like my past self. what if i already have?”

“i would do anything to become someone worth keeping around”

“why are you running away?”

“i must search every corner of the world to search for the girl i once was. to get rid of her, once and for all”

“i am so adam's top girl it hurts. can you tell?”

“i love you.”

“sometimes, i think love and violence are the same”

“if my past was a tooth, id tie a string around it and slam the door on those memories.”

“but it is not. i cannot.”

“i am flying way too close to the sun and id like to say the heat burning my skin makes me feel alive but i really just want the blisters to prove ive been hurt”

“i am messy. everything i let go of has claw marks. i am stubborn. i have never met a hill i wouldn't die on”

“i've been holding onto this grief so long it feels as familiar as the turns into my neighborhood when i've fallen asleep in the car.”

“i want to wake up now. i want to let it go”

“how could i forget? does the tree forget the axe?”

“i stuffed myself into this cocoon. now i beg for transformation”

“thank you for putting flowers in my messy room im sorry for making you mad at me i didn't mean to but unfortunately there's something wrong with me”

“im trying my best im trying my best that's all i can do”

“sometimes this girl's best is judging everyone else to distract herself from the fact that she hates herself more than she could ever hate anything else”

“i love like a dog. not in the cute, fluffy way; in the discarded, disgusting mutt way. i whine for any scraps of affection i am given”

“sometimes, you are so accustomed to hate you cannot fathom love. you reject it.”

“i don't think my creator knows my favorite color. or my birthday.”

“i wish i could look at myself in the mirror without crying”

“i love you with what in me is unfinished; i love you with what in me is still changing”

“someday i will sail away from the shame i carry. for now, i am merely a passenger”

“you're holding onto something that doesn't exist anymore”

“unclench your fists.”

“this grief isnt tangible but oh god how i can feel it”

“this is an automated message, please don't reply. we are calling in regard to your father”

“we mean your creator. we mean the man that raised you. we mean the man that said he raised you.”

“sorry, we dont know what we mean, because you don't know what we mean”

“we apologize for any miswording. we apologize the way they will never apologize. when will you accept that?”

“sometimes i dont want to get better just to show you how bad it was”

“i am afraid that if i open myself i will not be able to stop pouring. why do i fear becoming a river? what mountain gave me such shame?”

“you keep asking if i would die for you. i keep asking why you want me dead”

“good enough to grab. they always put me back, though. 🐟”

“im sorry for saying sorry”

[utilitycaster]

forgive me if i don’t make sense bc i don’t really know how to articulate this, but taliesin talked a lot about “trying to figure out what punk means in exandria” and wondering what’s there to be angry about. and after the last string of episodes i feel like that it’s a question that he baked into ashton’s character. like yes ashton is punk and they have justified anger but the Rest of their anger is deflective to stop them from interrogating themselves and their decisions further. idk it’s really interesting to me

It is! It's something I really love about Ashton and it's something I think Taliesin was very thoughtful about in his character creation. I think Taliesin is extremely strong in character creation in general, and it's a rare person who can make a character based on a philosophical premise who also feels very real.

That really is the core of Ashton, and I think it's a great commentary. I do still intend to watch The Decline of Western Civilization Part III (winter break perhaps?) but I am broadly familiar with the gutter-punks on which Ashton was based, and again, the punk movement as a whole. There have always been politically-minded punks; but I advise you look up the backgrounds of, say, the average Fugazi/Minor Threat, Bad Religion, Dead Kennedys, or Propagandhi musician because they are, by and large, middle-class white guys with relatively stable and happy childhoods, and the idea of Ashton as someone dedicated to the Tumblr uwu kindness is punk "look at this perfect baby who doesn't steal pennies how kind and generous to only take literally everything else" archetype was always a massive projection. They've always been far more in the model of the Break Shit, Get Wasted punk than, well, the straight edge and veganism of the above.

(I also think that while it's true that a lot of punk houses did take in anyone and were something of a refuge for many a la Color In Your Cheeks, there was also a lot of Missing Stair Fallacy shit going on in the punk community even then. Ashton is in fact an example of the flaws in that sort of subculture: the Nobodies were there until they really, really weren't, and that's not unusual for that kind of punk friendship. It's found family until you're too inconvenient and dangerous to make it worth it. Taliesin explores this a lot, incidentally; that was very much what he was doing with Molly, and I would love to hear him talk about that kind of surface-level closeness that isn't strong enough to stick because as someone who both participates in fandom and loves to observe and analyze fandom as a phenomenon itself, it's a very real dynamic.)

Ashton has had an awful life. That's the premise. Nothing good has happened to them. There are plenty of valid reasons for them to be angry. Some are people who deserve it (their parents for the fucked up ritual; the Nobodies for abandoning them; Jiana Hexum for exploiting them), some are people who don't deserve their anger but to be fair haven't done anything to deserve their respect either (Percy, the gods), but many have been perfectly kind and reasonable and Ashton has rejected them because they're in a position of authority or seemed too nice. And there's plenty of stuff he's mad about that isn't easily pinned on anyone; the chronic pain is a shitty side effect of one or both of his traumas but no one person is responsible.

Ashton is an incredibly cynical person, and this extends to himself. As I've said before, I think they absolutely mean it when they say that they would have done the exact same thing the Nobodies would do, and this has been used to both cover up the intense hurt that came from their abandonment, but also, I think part of Ashton's own self-loathing comes from the fact that yeah, they are the kind of person who'd have done the same, and that isn't a very good person, and being angry at the Nobodies and Jiana and the world at large has allowed him to avoid looking that truth in the face. Ashton has always bounced between "I'll be the best broken thing I can be" and "what if I could be more? what if I could be what I could have been if things went well?" and also "who the fuck cares" and the reveal, that when the chips are down, he will make an ill-advised and self-destructive choice from that place of pain and anger has really rattled them. He can't keep just being angry and using that to shield himself from difficult questions. It won't just kill them, but it will hurt everyone around them too.

A really ugly truth of life is that even when something is completely not your fault and even when you have been dealt a rotten, unfair hand, often, you do have some degree of responsibility to deal with it ("And if it isn't my fault, I certainly didn't do anything to deal with it," as Ashton says.) The mere act of being angry is cathartic but doesn't actually solve anything. I think that's Keyleth's message to Orym, actually; it's not fair, and you're angry that it's not fair, but you need to use that anger to do things yourself instead of letting it consume you or passing the buck because it sure as hell isn't your turn. Ashton has, since the solstice, been playing tug of war with the idea that this anger has perhaps not been serving him, and he finally lost. Initially they realized a lot of this anger had been self-pity, but then, as they said, one week of thinking their parents actually were something led them to do the exact same dumb cult shit. Instead of stopping and listening to Evontra'vir and Allura, he said "no, I'm special, actually." And to be clear I think their motives were incredibly complicated and well-thought-out on Taliesin's part. It's not just because of his parents, it's not entirely selfish or out of heroics but those certainly did play a part, he did genuinely think it would help but he also ignored a number of warnings that it wouldn't. Again, I think the parallels between Ashton and FCG are glaringly obvious this episode, except Ashton hid their feelings with anger and FCG with a focus on everyone else's needs.

[smallestapplin]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT Sex addicted Greaser submas. That's it that's the request. flkjfdksljf Their sweet, innocent angel of a partner, getting dirty with them? Letting both corrupt them? It drives them wild. But there's the catch. Even though both want you every time they see you... You still are stuck with your parents till you are done with college. They hardly get to see you... It drives them up the wall when they don't get to see their angel, let alone touch you as much as they want :(

-Silver Anon

Anything for you👀 I would also like to thank @yanban-san for helping me edit this! They are a life saver!

🔞18+ only! MDNI!🔞

Afab reader they/them given the petname ‘Angel’ and ‘Doll’ also in their twenties. Little mean to Emmet. Reader is with both twins. Womb is said a few times. Cock warming. Dom reader turned sub. Rough sex.

word count : 3,112

-🔞18+Only!🔞

-

-

The two knew they were doomed the second you entered their lives, what with how you helped Emmet without a second thought, how caring you were even after the younger twin left your supervision, with a few bandages.

They were smitten.

And made it their goal to make you theirs.

Who knew such a good little thing like you was so addicting? Even after winning your heart, and getting to shower you in kisses wasn’t enough.

They found the taste of your lips addictive.

It’s always a race to see who can get to you first, just to kiss you.

Emmet always plays dirty, just so he can kiss you first. His kisses are always so hot and heavy, quick to slam his lips against yours, and push his tongue into your mouth as he spins you both around.

You’ve never parted from the younger twins lips, without a thin string of saliva connecting you two.

Ingo uses a mix of brute force and speed to get to you first. When he kisses you, he makes it his mission to steal your breath away. Pressing his lips firmly against yours, holding your body against him until you start to squirm, wanting more.

But he leaves you longing for more.

The more you give them, the more they want. But how can they get more when you’re stuck with your parents? Who pay for your college, making you rely on them until you’re finished with it?

It makes their blood boil, until they see you greeting them with a smile.

They made sure the first time you had sex with them was perfect, the two had to fight tooth and nail to be gentle with you, wanting your first coupling with them to special.

But how could they when you feel so good? Look so good drooling all wrecked for them? Begging them for more?

In their eyes you went from a sweet, pure Angel, to a succubus they are willing to give their lives to.

They wanted you more and more and more, until it seemed like you'd taken over their whole attention, their whole life.

But they don’t get to see you often, as you’re often working on your college courses, at campus, or working around your home.

They can’t stop by whenever they want.

Though Ingo can, and that fact makes Emmet livid.

Most of your town believes Ingo is the sweet boy next door type, who is unfortunately related to his wild brother.

None the wiser that they are called the Terror Twins for a reason.

But even then Ingo still has a hard time finding the right time.

Even sneaking into your room doesn’t help much.

Both greasers are addicted to you, your presence, your cunt, and oh, your cries!

Your ears perk up to the sound of your phone vibrating, and even though you know picking it up is dangerous, you just can't help yourself, you know that.

But you do anyway, wanting to see how needy your boys are for you, and you aren’t disappointed.

The first messages is from Ingo.

‘Can I come over? I’ve been missing you.’

‘I won’t distract you from your work, just sit on my cock, please? I’ll behave.’

‘Fuck, I miss you. I miss your taste, miss you crying out for me.’

You rub your thighs together, chuckling at how needy he is.

Another ding catches your attention. Face flushing with color as Ingo sends you a picture, of him holding a pair of your panties to his face, sniffing them as you can see the bulge in his pants, seeing a spot from his leaking cock.

You can see his blushing cheeks, see the drool leaking from his mouth.

Who would’ve thought you’d have such a man wrapped around your finger?

Another different sounding ding alerts you. Checking to see, you can’t help but softly laugh at seeing Emmet’s name pop up.

‘Pleeease, Angel? Let me visit! Let me use you while you work, please!’

You can’t help but love what you’ve done to them, love seeing them so desperate for you, love how they beg you.

‘Let me bend you over your desk, let me fuck you full of my cum.’

‘I won’t be loud! I promise!’

‘Just the thought of fucking you has my cock twitching, pleeeasee?’

Your eyes light up at a video he sends you, of him fisting his cock, whimpering your name.

“C-can’t cum! Wanna, wanna save it for you! Let me fill you! Mark you!”

Watching as he tilts his head back, tongue hanging from his open mouth with a cry. You coo when he stops stroking his dick, listening to him whimpering and seeing his shaft throb.

The video ends, but it leaves your mind racing with thoughts.

Just six more months left of your semester and you can leave, move in with them, and they can have you as much as they want.

But you doubt those two can last that long, especially with how it seems they are edging themselves, just to save all their cum for fucking your pussy full. You send Emmet a message first.

‘I’m sorry you can’t visit, I have much to do and little time. And I know you, you’re so greedy and the second you’re inside me you’d lose control.’

You giggle at the frowns face the younger twin sends you, before texting Ingo.

‘I know you’d behave, but you’d only distract me. I know how you get when you don’t have my attention.’

You shake your head with a smile. Your parents maybe out but you don’t need your neighbors seeing them. You know they love you, they never miss a chance to tell you or show you.

But ever since they had you for the first time, it’s like they've become ravenous beasts, wanting more and barely able to restrain themselves.

You can’t blame them, ever since you had fit their cocks inside you, you can’t help but feel the same way.

But you had things to do if you wanted to move in with them faster.

They know this too, but they can’t help but be greedy for your pussy.

An hour had passed since you last got a message from them, so you thought that was the end of it, as you typed out the final part of your essay.

Until you hear the faint sound of your window opening.

You let out a muted sigh, knowing already who it is, since Ingo works late tonight.

“Emmet.”

Your voice barely a whisper, but firm, though with a hint of exasperation.

He hugs you from behind, whining.

“I’m sorry, I just missed you sooo much!”

You can’t be too mad, leaning against his hold as he showers your cheek and neck with so many kisses.

Emmet lifts you up, sitting down in your chair and placing you on his lap. He nuzzles so sweetly against your neck, pressing you down on his hard on, loving how you feel against him.

Looking down, you sees he’s placed you perfectly on him, his bulge pressing right against your clothed crotch.

Your breathing hics, feeling him grind up into you.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning against your skin.

“Emmet, I have things to finish.”

The greaser whines, burying his face back into your neck.

You love messing with him.

“Tell you what, let me cock warm you, and if you behave, once I’m finished with this essay I’ll let you fuck me, deal?”

He moves quickly, undoing his pants and ripping your panties off. Barely having time to realize he soaked his fingers with his drool to rub your wet heat.

“M-mm!”

“Gotta make sure you’re prepped for me.”

His voice low as he nips at your ear lobe, kissing down to your neck, sucking small marks.

Emmet trembles, feeling just how wet you are sends him reeling. Moaning with you when he pushes a finger into your hole.

You grip the arms of your chair, biting your lip to silence yourself as Emmet pushes another finger in.

His palm grinding against your clit with every move of his fingers. Emmet groans, squirming in the chair, cock already leaking with precum.

“So good! So fucking hot.” You can feel his drool on your shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so- mm!- so needy tonight.”

He can’t argue, he’s been edging himself for so long, just so he can fuck it all into you. Even with just his fingers in you, he can tell he’s close.

Like he might just cum from finger fucking you alone.

He wants more, he wants more and to never stop.

Your slick coating his hand makes it hard to hold still, especially with how you’re trying to muffle your sounds.

“Em, please, you’re gonna make me cum-!”

“Hm? You’re gonna cum? From this? How cute.”

You grab his wrist, yanking his hand away from your dripping pussy. Ignoring his soft, pitiful whimpers.

“Nooo! I wanna make you cum, please? For me?”

He can only pout for a second, until you stroke his dick, coating it in his and your juices.

Emmet tosses his head against your chair, back arching as you grind his cock against your slit.

“Barely done anything and you’re already twitching? Just how deprived are you?”

You tease him, not expecting him to grab your and shove you down onto his throbbing dick.

Quickly, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. Emmet bites down on your shoulder, eyes fluttering back.

You are barely half way on him before he cums, flooding your pussy with his thick, hot spent. Yet that doesn’t stop him from thrusting up into you, leaning you slightly over your desk to fit his cock nice and snug inside your clenching walls.

He’s near tears, finally! Finally he’s inside you! It’s been almost a month since he last had you, and it’s been hell! He couldn’t take much more!

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling him still pumping cum into you.

Emmet goes to move you, only for you to smack his hands off of you.

“You are gonna sit here and look pretty while I work, that was the deal.”

You wish you could see his face, see how it twists up into the most blissed out expression. He wants to argue, but his mind is left foggy with the pleasure you’re giving him.

He brings his arm up to cover his face, biting into the leather of his jacket. Oh his perfect angel, teasing him! Mocking him! He could cum again. “Now hold still.”

The sound of you typing is all that echoes in your bedroom, aside from his muffled whimpers.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can last! Feeling you clench randomly on him, like you’re trying to milk him. Every shift of your hips has him biting his sleeve, trying to be quiet.

If he moves just a little….

Emmet tenses up, crying out into his arm as the sound of you slapping his thigh echoes.

“I said hold still.”

He moves his arm to breath, chest heaving to gulp down air.

“Again again, please I need more, mmMM! Sooo good!”

He can’t help but beg, to cry for more. He needs to move, needs to fuck you, he can’t live without his angel!

He’s addicted to you, needing all of you, wanting all of you, wanting whatever you’ll give him.

He wants to sob, it’s pure torture! He wants you bouncing on his cock! Yet you’re sitting so pretty on him, feeling so good around him, he just needs more.

The sound of you typing is taunting him, but he can’t move, not unless he wants to upset you. Tossing his head back, he lets out a keening sound.

So mean to him! He loves it.

Oh having his sweet, seemingly innocent darling ordering him around, HIM! He’s so lucky.

All the things you can do it him, or order him to do!

You tends up and bit your lip, trembling at the feeling of Emmet’s cum spurting into you, filling you up again.

“You’re such a needy whore, I swear.”

“Fuck! Yes! M’your whore, just please let me fuck you Darrrling!”

Wrapping his arms around you, pressing his chest against your back, once again drooling onto your shoulder.

You can see his quivering smile out of the corner of your eye, his face bright red and eyes lined with tears.

He looks so desperate.

“The more you disturb me, the longer this’ll take, which means the longer you have to wait.”

He looks so hurt when you say that.

“Hnnn please! I’m sorry, I’ll be good, verrry good!”

“I know you will.”

You reach back and rub his cheek, chuckling at how he leans into your touch, nuzzling against your palm.

He leans his head against you once you move your hand away. You go over your writing, just to make sure it meets all the requirements for your professor.

Ignoring your lovers soft kisses along your neck, gently nipping at your skin to try and get your attention, but it doesn’t work.

You can feel his cock throbbing inside you. Even after cumming twice, he still wants more.

His hands slowly start move under your sleep shirt, slowly inching towards your chest. You shudder under his calloused hands rubbing your skin, trying to hold still when his thumbs brush against your nipples.

You save your work and send it off, sighing, you can finally pay attention to your very needy boyfriend.

“There, all done.”

Emmet cries out as you grind down, shallowing fucking yourself on him. His hands fly down to your hips, lifting you up and slamming you on your work desk.

You barely had time to cover your mouth, before he’s slamming into you. The sound of wet skin slapping echoes in your room, his balls slapping against your clit with every harsh thrust of his hips. Emmet leans over you, chest pressing against your back as he moans into your shoulder.

“Your cunt feels so good! Haaa! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Grabbing your hips, keeping you still as he fucks himself stupid with your pussy. He buries his teeth into your shoulder, quieting his cries.

You’re no better, squeals muffled by your hand, while the other grabs onto his hand, holding it to ground yourself.

His cock keeps slamming so deep into you, right to your sweet spot. Your mind cloudy with pleasure, while he takes you like a rutting beast.

Emmet can’t stop! His hips moving on their own, you just feel so good! Your cunt trying to milk him, and he’s more than happy to give.

“E-Em! Ooooh! So deep! Ah-!!”

He’s losing him mind, only wanting to fuck you more, pour his cum deep inside you! Your nails dig into his hand as you squeal, throwing your ass back to fuck yourself on his cock as you cum.

His eyes roll back, feeling you clench around him.

“Cumming! M’cumming! Cumming in your greedy pussy!”

You lay your head on your table, whining from his hips barely slowing down, continuing to pump his spent into you.

Both of you unable to hear someone else climbing through your window, until Emmet is yanked away from you and tossed just over your bed.

You yelp as you’re grabbed, and made to sit on the newcomers’ lap, back on your chair.

Cock already out.

You stare in shock, frantically looking back, only to be greeted with Ingo’s furious face.

His frown turned into more of a scowl, and those alabaster eyes glowering with a lust filled rage.

“Like hell I’m letting him get you any longer!”

He shoves you down on his cock, causing you to squeal. You toss your head back against his shoulder, crying out for more.

The older twin is furious his brother got more time with you, getting to fuck you, when it should’ve been him fucking you! And he intends to make up for lost time.

Your sleep shirt is ripped, leaving your bouncing tits on display, along with with your dripping, stuffed cunt.

The thick head of his cock easily breaching your womb, fucking you so deep, taking you like you’re a toy for his pleasure.

“Fuuck! It’s like you were made for my cock! Could keep you here- ah!- keep you stuffed with my cum.” His pants into your ear, kissing your neck before littering it with his marks.

Your loud cries easily overshadow Emmet’s displeased groan.

Sitting up from the other side of the bed, watching your body being forcibly bounced on a cock that isn’t his.

He wants to be angry, angry from being removed from his favorite spot.

“Fuck! Look at that lewd face!”

But you’re so beautiful like this, all blissed out, and only theirs!

Ingo grits his teeth, putting all his weight and strength into every thrust, brutally fucking your pussy.

“What a filthy Doll we have.”

Your drool drips from your open mouth, down to your chest.

Ingo moves up hand to your chest, groping and pinching your nipples, while his other hand rubs harsh circles on your clit. Moaning just as loud as you.

“Ingooo! S-sensitive! Ooh I’m- I’m gonna-“

A loud squeal rips from your throat, cumming all over Ingo’s dick. He doesn’t stop, still battering your womb with his fat cock.

“C’mon, keep milking my cock! Just like that. What a good little thing-!”

Ingo hides his face in your neck, crying out as he fucks your pussy full of his hot cum, making sure you take all of it.

In your blissed out hazed, you don’t see Emmet moving until he’s in front of you.

Ingo removes his hand from your tit, bringing it back down to your hip to piston your pussy better.

While Emmet shoves his tongue down your throat, greedily licking up all your drool. Your cries and mewls are muted by Emmet’s desperate kissing.

His hands resting on your waist, sliding up to caress your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and tugging at your sensitive nipples.

Tears pour down your face from your body being so roughly toyed with, but you’re loving it, loving how they keep filling you with their cocks and cum, keeping you full.

How they are so desperate, so needy for you, wanting you and only you! You grip Emmet’s leather jacket, just for something to hold onto.

Trying so hard to cry for more.

After all, you’re addicted to them as much as they are addicted to you.

And you know they won’t be leaving you empty anytime soon.