#Bros....you've fallen so far..

[bearsbadblog]

As a fan of minecraft, I'm pretty sure the minecraft movie is gonna be bad. As a fan of Jared Hess, I'm still holding out hope that it'll be good. Like, you can't tell me that the reunion of Hess and Jack Black is THAT BAD...please tell me that they're just putting the worst parts in the trailers...😭

[sillygoofyqueer]

sorry i send you so many asks i might as well go live in your inbox BUT pangolin!shen yuan is SO CUTE (panyuan? shen yuangolin?), i know he LOVES climbing on wei qingwei's broad shoulders and traveling to the peaks, listening to wei qingwei talk endlessly about all the peak lords and cultivators and their swords.

as a pangolin he has no job or anything so he'd wander off to watch liu qingge train, standing there with his little paws held together in that adorable pangolin way. maybe some bai zhan kids try to kick him and liu qingge immediately punts them to the other side of the field bc everyone knows that if you mess with the pangolins, you mess with wan jian peak, and you really don't want that. or shen yuan goes to qian cao peak to watch mu qingfang work his medicine magics. an ding peak is definitely the best place for treats, esp shang qinghua who just plops a whole bag of nuts and seeds in front of him when he visits.

also he'd hide behind wei qingwei's legs, little claws clinging to his robes like a tiny scaly child whenever shen qingqiu comes by for disciple swords, because that man is intimidating and everyone is so freaking tall when you're only 80 cm long.

shen yuan has also 100% bitten people.

You've actually fallen for my trap that I set out purely to lure you into my inbox and now you're trapped here forever and ever and we WILL be having tea parties every week. Sorry. You're my friend now, that's basically what I'm like with my friends. I've just realised that I'm basically atticwifing you....but platonically. ANYWAY. Shen Yuan absorbs so much information from Wei Qingwei's rambles, even squeaking and offering little sounds to ensure that the peak lord knows that he is listening! While the rest of the sect have gotten used to this little limpet hanging onto WQW, visitors are like "is one of your peak lords actually insane" and the peak lords are like "nah just watch this" and they listen as SY seemingly RESPONDS to something WQW has said with a questioning sort of hum. Shocked Pikachu faces all around. Also, I love to think about a couple of the more spiteful, spoiled disciples of one of the peaks ganging up on poor pangolin SY because they think they're above the consequences of their actions. SY stumbles his way back to Wan Jian Peak, where he is met by WQW. The man is. Very gentle. as he treats the pangolin's wounds. Then he turns his attention to finding who has done this to his precious little pet, and all of the peak lords are reminded of just how scary WQW can be when he has a valid reason to be. The man is horrifying, normally warm and friendly smile wiped completely off his face - instead, there's a scowl. A petrifying scowl that looks out of place on his face. Let's just say that the disciples are very quickly found and...dealt with. Also!! I read the last little paragraph and just...immediately thought of a different kind of panyuan - a little demon type creature that WQW likely took in as a baby because...listen, so what if it's a demon, the shimei on the beast peak said that it's okay because "pangolin-type demons are harmless, trust me bro". This little pangolin baby has a human form, meaning WQW basically has a little baby that is sometimes a pangolin. In human form, he has his little tail and spatterings of scales over his body, and he is just a little GUY. He's just as charming as a little child, peeking out from behind WQW's robes and clinging to him, often just resorting to communicating through his little chirps and squeaks when he gets scared or far too shy for words. He is still taken to literally all of the peak lord meetings, because he's just a little guy, and god forbid anyone finds SY NOT sitting on WQW's shoulders or cuddled in his embrace. Everyone else is, at first, kind of hesitant because bro that's a child get him OUT of our meetings. Then they're hit with the big ole eyes and they fucking crumble.

[schoenpepper]

Like Raven Feathers

Intro: Riddle does something against the rules. And because of that, he'll fall from Heaven, oh he'll fall, just for you.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, Riddle's mom is mentioned, lots of religious whatever, bro's a simp through and through

A/N: Lookie what I whipped up with a random dose of motivation. Riddle's not even in my top five faves so I'm not sure why the first full fic I'll ever post is one about him. This has no effect on my Isekai'd Chronicles series update schedule, but it does share the same universe so go check it out if you're confused.

Masterlist

Riddle has always lived his life by the Bible of the Church of Light. Every movement is according to scripture, and every choice is made under the guidance of his mother, the Saintess. Since she has the highest authority in Heaven and is the angel closest to the God of Light, surely she's correct in all that she does. Surely he's correct to follow her. He would keep his wings pure and abide by every rule; no one likes a fallen acolyte of Light.

In this little circle, he's safe.

He wakes up at sunrise every day and prays. He does as is taught to him: give his thanks for every blessing and apologize for every failure, for every sin, and for every wrong he's committed. Most days, he doesn't know why he's begging for forgiveness. Today, he does. "Forgive me, oh Lord of Light," Riddle mumbles piously under his breath. "I have done something unbecoming of your servant. I have developed…feelings, for a mortal nonetheless. I have given away the love that rightfully belongs to you. Please have mercy and forgive this poor soul."

He never says a word about repenting.

After ten minutes of prayer, he makes his bed, takes a bath, straightens out his feathers, and brushes his teeth. Then it's time to double-check all the items he needs for classes and ensure that he's done all the assignments necessary for each day. He has breakfast with the rest of his dormitory members after giving thanks to his Lord for the food. There's another prayer after eating.

Another careless apology leaves his lips.

Classes go by far too slowly for his liking. When he sits at the cafeteria for lunch, his blue-gray eyes search for the mortal that's been in his mind for far too long, far too often. They light up when he finds you.

There's you beyond his circle, just out of reach.

Riddle isn't shy when he asks you to spend lunch with him. When you agree with a smile, his heart seems to beat faster than before. Too fast for his brain to keep up with. He's short of breath around you; you make him unable to even think. He's like an electronic toy short-circuiting in water. That's what you are, after all—strange, unfamiliar territory he isn't allowed to traverse. But even the first angels fell to temptation, so who is he to be the exception?

You're the sweetest forbidden fruit.

He has to go back to class eventually, but he hates that he does. That's weird, that's wrong; he's Riddle Rosehearts, and studies should be his priority after his God. But his hand is out of his control when he doodles little hearts on the border of his notebook (why would he do that? It's so childish, so immature.).

After class, he sends you a text to ask you to study with him in the library. Alone, preferably, because your friends always raise a ruckus (that's the excuse he tells you and himself). He feels content, happy, when you show up by yourself. The two of you sit across from each other, and he reviews topics for you that he still remembers clearly from his first year. Riddle finds it fun. Perhaps some would call it tedious, but he thinks that you're a worthy use of his time. He gets paid by the way you pout when you're struggling with a question. He feels fulfilled when you smile that bright smile, all teeth showing, eyes squinted into crescents, when you claim to finally understand something you've been struggling with for a while. He thinks he can die happy in your arms when you hug him in excitement and thank him for tutoring you.

You trespass into his little circle.

He packs up too soon because you have some commitment with some other person; he's alone in the library now. He sees the way other people look at you. You're just so uniquely you; he understands they want you the way he does. It doesn't mean he'll relent his efforts to snake his way into your heart. You're something he desperately wants, needs, even.

He's envious of the way other people make you laugh. Riddle's never been the humorous type (do you like that type better?). He's too strict, too strait-laced. Maybe you don't think he's fun, or cool, or interesting. Do you even think of him at all?

He still can't touch you.

When he's back at the dorm, he spends the rest of his time buried in his assignments. Perhaps getting you off his mind is the best thing he can do today. He's unproductive when you're the only thing on his mind, so he buries you underneath mountains of schoolwork.

Why can't he reach you?

He lays in bed after another prayer. The same apology is said. He can't even bother to change it. At some point, he'll stop asking for forgiveness. Some time in the future, he'll only confess his love for you in his daily prayers without being sorry for it. Falling in love with a mortal is wrong. Praying insincerely is wrong. But you, you, oh, you're everything that's right in this sinful world. His mother will never understand him.

But the God of Light will.

Because he doesn't even know when it started, but you've become his light. He fears for the darkness that will swallow him when you're gone.

Don't choose someone else. Don't find someone else. Don't love someone else.

He'll leave his circle on his own.

And when the angel falls, he'll make sure he goes out with the most glorious fireworks.

With you.

[taifenggg]

ash have you seen alien stage?

ash i’m sobbing, haven’t stopped since the new round

ash i need happy brother content to cheer me up

do you have any sappy headcanons to share whether with or without an mc

YALL WHAT IS ALIEN STAGE I KEEP SEEING IT ALL OVER MY TWT TL 😭😭😭

uhhh ig i have some short hcs for the bro, I wrote these in like 5 minutes LOL

Lucifer is the type to check in on you periodically when he thinks you've been cooped up in your room for far too long and he'll even brew a Hell Coffee for you.

Mammon often opens your dms with him and goes back and reads all of the messages that the two of you have sent to each other and wonders just how he got so lucky.

After realizing he had a crush on you, Leviathan realized that he often romances characters that resemble you either in personality or in looks which he finds embarrassing.

Satan will tuck you in at night, reading you a story. After he sees that you've fallen asleep, he'll lean over and press a kiss to your forehead, because although he's an avid reader, he finds it hard to express how he feels about you directly.

Asmodeus will gas you up no matter what because he knows what its like to be insecure about your self-image and he wants you to feel good about yourself, and to see yourself the way that he sees you.

He loves to eat, but Beelzebub actually wanted to start to learn to cook food that you like so that he can share it with you. He's not very good at it, and he struggles a lot cause he's always eating all the ingredients but Luke and Simeon say that he's improved a lot from when he first started.

Belphegor is a little shit, but whenever you're feeling upset or overwhelmed, he'll lay there and listen to you, taking in all your words even if it seems like he doesn't care.

To Masterlist [ ◇ ]

Back to Navigation [ ◇ ]

[pseudophan]

What’s your take on the twitter argument of sitting wherever you want for the preshow vs sitting in your assigned seat (unless the assigned seat is far as fuck lol)

Some people are saying if you have front row ticket for the show you should give that up for the preshow and let that time be first come first serve for seating. Other people are saying they should be allowed to sit in their assigned front row seat without having to feel like a dick for asking someone to move.

I don’t know how I feel about it honestly but tensions are running HIGH over there

haaaa i have like three posts in my drafts bitching about this argument because it's so unbelievably ridiculous to me but i was like ok let me choose my battles here, however you asked and i've already complained a lot today so fuck it let's go

(i just wrote it all out and i sound so angry bfsdjhf it's not at all directed at you anon i'm sorry! i'm just very peeved by the utter entitlement i've seen from people on this topic in the past week)

essentially it all comes down to people having made something up in their minds and being entirely unable to let go of that idea. literally nowhere does it say you have reserved seating for the preshow, some people simply assumed that and are now very disappointed it's not the case. and like. sucks? i guess? get over it? idk what to tell you. they let you into the room like Right before the preshow starts, there is just not time for everyone to faff about trying to find their assigned seat. additionally, most of the time they want everyone to sit somewhat in the middle of the room rather than all the way to the side (if it's a wide stage anyway) and then you'd have to move everyone whose assigned seats are far to one side and it would be further chaos. just. trust me. it's so much easier to have people sit wherever

i'll actually go as far as to say if you ask someone to move out of "your seat" for the preshow, you are the asshole. because again, that's just not how the seating works. it's first come first serve and if it's so important to you to sit in the front for 20 minutes of yapping you can simply try to be first in line

that being said i also don't really agree with people claiming gold vips have to let silver vip sit in the front for the preshow, like they shouldn't have to deliberately go further back either. everyone has an equal chance and i think that's fair

oh and my least favourite argument for why it should be assigned seating is "what if they don't get out of my seat before the show starts" bro what if there was no preshow and someone sat in your seat before you got in and refused to move, what would you do then? you go talk to venue staff and show your ticket where your seat is labeled. obviously. how is this possibly any different, there's plenty of time between when the preshow ends and the main show starts to sort that out

basically, if you thought you were guaranteed your coveted front row middle seat for the preshow as well as the main performance and are now very sad about the fact that you aren't, i'm sorry, that sucks, disappointment is never fun, believe me i get that. but you have got to stop acting like you've fallen victim to false advertising or you aren't getting what you paid for because it's just not the case in the slightest

[i-cannot-think-of-anything16]

TADC JAX X MALE READER That's easy to fluster! HC's!

Bro is gonna be the end of you, Rip

A/N(before!) This is gonna be fun also I can't make the TADC rainbow anymore :( I tried, Also I'm making this cuz the last one did super well

A/N(After!) It's midnight I'm tired and I'm happy to get this over with and thank you all for 100+ likes on the last one I made even though it was Just mainly Fluff

Warning(s) flirting (obviously) and teasing (ALSO obviously)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Oh dear God did he think this was fun

He teased (and flirted with you) so Goddamn much

Did this until he would get bored

And after he Started Cushing on you?

P R A Y

Fucking pray for your life Bro

He's Gonna be discreetly Flirting with you Just to see you blush

And when you Gays started dating? (Pun intended)

Oh your life is over

This Sucker Will kiss you randomly and Shower you in compliments (in private of course)

And if you ask him To Stop?

He will

For 5 minutes at best

After you guys Start dating for a while he'll just lean on you and rest his head on you cuz he knows that'll make you blush even just a little bit

He's also taller than everyone as far I'm a-where but if your oc or self-insert is taller than him then Oh well

He'll come up with the weirdest fucking Pet names/Nicknames for you Cuz he thinks it's funny

And it is

And nothing that'll embarrass him of course

But don't worry too much cuz he'll ask before calling you whatever weird name he comes up with for today to see if you'll if be comfortable with it

He usually looks though Gangles weird Secret fanfics about ragatha x Pomni for the names

And if you have a sleepover in his room?

Once again..

P R A Y

I don't know what you want me to tell you!

He'll only stop teasing you Once you've fallen asleep

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Alrighty I hope You Guys liked It! Also it's like midnight as I'm typing So this may Suck :p Also sorry for this being so short and Thanks For Over 100 likes On the last one I made! I love All of you So much!

[delopsia]

Streetlight Glow | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 10,00 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, shameless use of the one-bed trope, best friends to lovers, one(1) mention of a gun. 80% smut, 20% dumb fluff. Multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, questionable use of an old ring, road trips, taking Bob's virginity 🌷 Brief Summary: In which you go against everything best friends should be doing and become something more.

You've heard this radio song one too many times.

It's so overplayed that your belly tightens with a sickly sourness the second your ears catch wind of that dreadful tune. Top one hundred radio stations are cute until you're trapped in Bob's itty bitty car, forced to listen to the same set of songs. Over. And over. And over. Like some sort of modern torture, vying to drive you mad before you reach your destination.

And yet, Bob's fingers drum against the steering wheel to the beat of the music. Completely and utterly content with this strange new hell you've been shoved into. Even Rhett's humming along to it. Had never heard of this song before he climbed into the car, but has memorized it over the course of the past four hundred and something miles.

You couldn't ask to change the station if you wanted to; Bob reached over and played with the dial a few minutes ago, ciphering through endless static until he landed back on this god-forsaken station once again—the perks of being out in the middle of nowhere.

If Rhett doesn't land top ten in this rodeo, a raging bull isn't going to be his only problem.

It's the distant clicking of a turn signal that garners your attention. Hadn't realized you were looking down at the promise ring in your palm until after you drew your attention back to the road.

"Please tell me this isn't where we're staying," you mutter, leaning back into your seat as if you can possibly cram yourself into it and disappear entirely.

An ancient husk of a hotel, with its flickering 'open' sign plastered haphazardly in the window. Two lamp posts hang in the lot, and yet, their light has done nothing to fight off the velvety darkness that has long since fallen. It's only because of the headlights that you can see the grass breaking through the cracks of the concrete, so worn and weathered, that the painted parking lines no longer remain.

It's enough to send you high-tailing out of town, and yet, Bob's putting the car in park, "Rhett—"

"I know," Rhett's fingertip taps against something metal. "I know."

You don't need to turn around to know that it's his gun. A necessary evil that begrudgingly made its way into the trip itinerary after learning of where this rodeo is located. Though unarmed himself, Bob's head nods, and the door squeaks open without another word. You'd pitch a fit about this, but your choices are either to stop here or take over the driver's seat and hope you can stay awake long enough to find a better resting place.

On their own, your eyes drift back down to the ring in your palm. Dainty. A promise of a life together that your ex couldn't keep his word on. Leaving you with this dumb hunk of metal. Too cheap to pawn and not worth the years it's spent sitting in this old jacket pocket, waiting on the day you would wear it again.

"Hey, Rhett?" Your voice feels foreign in your own mouth. Too loud in this quiet little car.

In the rearview mirror, you can see his head lift. "Hm?"

"Can you make this disappear?" Open palm sliding to rest on the console, that damned ring sitting in the middle of it. Far too innocent for the memories it carries. "Please?"

Rough fingertips brush against your skin as he takes it from you, and suddenly, the ring seems to have shrunken by four sizes. Entirely too tiny in his oversized hand. A part of you reckons he could snap it in two.

"This is from that one guy, ain't it?" There's a bitterness to his tone that you very nearly forgot the sound of. The kind that only bubbles out of him when that old fling gets brought up as if he had his own heart broken in the process. You don't have a response, mouth devoid of another word, but he doesn't seem to need it. "I'll find a place for it."

The reception door swings open, Bob's hand now occupied by a thin, plastic keycard. A reluctantly welcomed sight that you're unsure what to make of. A bed to stretch out and rest in, but at what cost? A lumpy mattress? Bad neighbors? A busted car window come morning?

Roaches?

Ugh.

The car door is squeaking back open, and much to your dismay; Bob is already dishing out the spare keys, "second floor, room two o' one. It's the only room they've got."

Whoever decided that the stairwell should be outside rather than inside should be fired immediately. Metal creaks beneath your slip-on shoes, slippery, threatening to send you tumbling to the bottom at any given moment. You only carry one bag, some tiny thing you threw overnight essentials into, things that you wouldn't miss if you had to get rid of them. Yet, you've already caught yourself feeling as if you shouldn't have brought all these things inside.

The interior carpet is the definition of dizzying. Nonsensical white stripes stretching across navy blue only starts to bug you once you're walking down it. You know you're moving, but the endless hallway and repetitive pattern makes you wonder if you've wound up on a really fucked up treadmill.

Even worse, your room is all the way on the end. Leaving you to trod the entirety of the building, shoulder bumping against Rhett's, somewhat off-kilter.

"Talk about some fucked up carpet," he mutters, and you're pretending that you don't feel the way his arm is curling around you. Protectively cinching you into his side as someone's door creaks open.

If your heart doesn't quit hammering against your chest, you're going to be sick.

But you can't help it. Rhett's so warm in this chilly little hotel. Has yet to let you go, even after stopping at the door, thump swiping up and down against your hip as Bob fiddles with the keycard.

A shrill beep soars through the air, and suddenly, the door opens. Allowing you into your room, devoid of that migraine-inducing carpet, introducing you to a stained, yellow husk of a floor that you suspect was once white, a CRT television, and...

...

huh.

"Now, what made ya think we can all fit into a queen-size bed?" Rhett's chirping, head tilting, as if he doesn't quite believe what his eyes are showing him. Maybe if he shakes his head, a second bed will appear.

There isn't even a couch. Or a complimentary, uncushioned wooden chair, for that matter. The set of four indents in the carpet is your only hint that there once was a chair, or even a small table, of some sort.

Bob scratches the side of his head with the plastic key, only pausing to look at the numbers printed on the door as it swings closed with a heavy slam. Not designed for the luxury of silence, it seems.

Your head tilts, peering into the dark room to your right; hypothetically, that should be the bathroom, but as of right now, it might be an endless void that drops off into nothingness. Home to the monster that lived under your bed when you were six. Maybe even the one who used to live in Rhett's closet, the subject of his lunch conversations with you and Bob back in your elementary school days.

Rhett, once petrified of the dark, now the one to reach into the void, flicking on the light switch.

...on second thought, you would prefer the monsters.

Tiny black and white tiles coated with a yellowish substance that audibly sticks to Rhett's boots as he steps across it. The ripped shower curtain clings to a total of two hooks, poorly concealing the tub and the blackened scuff marks at the bottom.

Rhett lifts the toilet lid up with his boot. "Whatever y' spent on this place," his nose wrinkles as he speaks, "was way too much."

Thunder rumbles outside, as if mother nature herself has agreed with his conclusion. Beligerantly shaking the hotel, an ill-hung picture frame rattling against the wallpaper. The greater half of you expects the lights to entrap you in the total darkness of a power outage, but they remain as bright as ever.

In fact, they never flicker. Not even once, even as the storm begins to pick up. Droplets of rain patter against the window, hued by the golden glow of a streetlight hanging proudly outside of your room. An abstract portrait perfectly framed by stale curtains that refuse to budge, denying you the ability to close them entirely.

The black light in Bob's bag only confirms everything you already knew; half of the floor seems to light up the moment he flicks it on. Parts of the walls are stained in something you don't want to know the origin of, corners of the bathroom that you didn't plan on touching to begin with. Strangely, the bed is entirely clean, the new sheets sticking out like a sore thumb in this dated room.

Your shoes remain on, even as you slip into loose-fitting pajamas, unwilling to put your bare feet on this ancient floor, regardless of the inconvenience it causes. In fact, the only time they come off is when you climb onto the bed.

Rhett's standing at the foot of it, eyebrows knit together as his gaze flickers from the carpet to you, then Bob. "I reckon I take the floor?"

"Absolutely not," Bobby's beating you to the punch, nodding his head toward the open space to your left, "we can all fit."

You don't need to look to feel Rhett's questioning eyes, seeking your help in building a defense that you have no interest in. Instead, your hand idly pats the mattress, and it's the only answer that he's going to get out of you.

Maybe in another hotel, but certainly not this one.

The sigh that cuts through the air is the sweetest sound of defeat that you've ever heard, the corner of the bed dipping as Rhett swings his knee up onto it. And maybe you should switch sides with Bob because your eyes are already gluing to Rhett's bare chest. Old bull rider tattoo sitting proudly beneath his right collar, drawing your gaze down to the gentle swell of muscle.

You reckon you could get a nice handful of it if you were daring enough.

But it's too late to object to your positioning. Bob's already settling in on your other side, glasses clanking as he sets them on the rickety bedside table. His shirt still clings to his body, but his legs bump into yours as he shifts, a warm presence that makes you wonder what it would be like to tangle them together. And that's just as bad as if he was shirtless because now your mind is venturing into a territory that it doesn't belong in.

It's strange having him so close. Remnants of his cologne still cling to his skin, warm, sugary notes kissing your nose, and your selfish mouth wonders if his lips are just as sweet. If kissing him would be like walking into a hometown bakery, cozy and familiar, with welcoming arms that wrap you into a hug. 

"Y' know," Rhett's stiff as a board next to you, back flat against the mattress, staring up at the questionably stained ceiling tile, "this ain't how I saw this goin'."

A part of you supposes that you can't blame him, though. You can't move either. "What, didn't plan on sharing a bed with us like old times?"

Bob is the only one daring enough to move, rolling onto his side, to face you. "At least, in the old times, we all fit."

God, how old were you the last time you three shared a bed? You know must have been before you turned thirteen because Bobby still had those obnoxious green-rimmed glasses, and he didn't change them until the day after your birthday.

Rhett must be on the same page as you because the corner of his lip lifts. "It's inappropriate fer you three to be havin' sleepovers!" Speaking in his best, mocking tone of his momma.

"Ma was so convinced that we'd get it on the moment we were left alone," Bob snorts, "meanwhile, all we wanted to do was play pictionary and watch tv all day."

Your head tilts, internally grasping for memories that you haven't dug up in years. "You didn't even know what sex was until you were, what, fifteen?"

"Fourteen," he clarifies, knee bumping into your thigh as he shifts against the mattress, "and I only learned because of that health class we were required to take.

Rhett's chuckle vibrates through the bed and up your spine. "Y' should've seen the look on his face when we went to the restroom after."

You reckon it's the same look that sits on Bob's face right now. Lips tightened into a straight line, eyes a smidgen wider than usual, and you're certain he'd be a shade paler if not for the street light. Warm rays shine through the water-stained window, puncturing through the darkness, painting everything it touches with its golden hues—some strokes of yellow and brown, too.

Those brilliant shades arc across your skin, staining you with its color, and stretch to fade against Rhett's bare skin. The rise and fall of his chest making that old bull tattoo look as if it's bucking in a pool of liquid gold. You've lost track of how many times you've caught yourself staring. The amount of hours wasted, wondering about what it would be like to tangle your fingers in his hair. To kiss across the broad expanse of his chest, if his hands would roam down your back or curl around the back of your neck.

Lightning cracks. For a moment, the only sound in the air is that of your breath.

The heavy fist of thunder strikes the ground.

You don't feel your back leave the mattress, but you certainly feel the landing. The way Bob jolts into you. Rhett's big arm darts out to curl around the both of you, cinching you to his chest, damn near rolling Bob on top of you. Squeezing tight, as if someone has come to steal you and Bobby away from him. Muscles so stiff that he feels like a steel post against you.

Outside, storm clouds grumble as if to laugh, as if this is some sick joke they orchestarted.

"God," Rhett lets go of a breath, fanning out against your cheek, "had me thinkin' someone kicked the damn door down." His head tilts down, lips pressing into the top of your shoulder, where the collar of your shirt exposes your skin.

The world around you screeches to such a sudden halt that you can hear the brakes squealing. Their shrill protests bouncing around the inside of your skull until your ears begin to ring.

He just...did he really...why?

Bob's gaze meets with yours. Then Rhett's. It's strange. Him being without his glasses and all. Almost just as strange as it is to see his eyes so...wide. Like a deer caught in the headlights, as if he's the one guilty of kissing your shoulder and not Rhett.

Rhett's chest rises with a breath.

"I'm...I'm sorry." Voice strained, afraid to let go of the air in his lungs.

"No, it's..." you're speaking before your own brain can catch up, too distracted by the way butterfly wings tickle your lower belly to think. "It's okay."

What the hell are you even saying? You're friends. This isn't...you're not...this shouldn't be okay.

Bob's mouth finds the side of your jaw. A fleeting peck so quick that you only register it when he's gone. Deliberately turns his head down, avoiding your attention, as he mutters something that sounds like, "Gotta even it out, right?" 

It was here and gone so quickly that you're only beginning to feel how his thin lips pressed into your skin, leaving behind a coldness that wasn't there before. Far too real to match up to the hopeless wonderings that have frolicked in your imagination for so long. 

Something must be in the air. Maybe you've fallen asleep, collapsing into the warm embrace of your imagination, because there is no way that Rhett's chapped lips are finding the other side of your jaw. No, this must be a trick of your mind. You've thought about this too many times for it to be real. This version of Robert Floyd, the one who scoffs and presses a second, insistent kiss on top of the old one, feels too dreamlike. 

"Bobby," Rhett's whining, drawing out the vowels in that annoyingly pitchy tone that you so rarely get to hear. 

"You started it," Bob's muffled by another kiss. Incessant, one after the other, spreading across your cheeks. The scruff of Rhett's unshaven jaw. The sweetness of Bob's cologne, up close and overpowering your senses. Are you sure this is a dream?

"I did not!" The sudden pitchiness in Rhett's cry is too on-point. 

"Yes, you did!" You know that tone on Bob. Playfully accusatory. Breath puffing against your skin, so warm that the hotel air feels cold in comparison.

Their heads are rising. Neither realize how close they are until their noses ram into one another. Too headstrong for gentleness. Not when their giggles are dying down. 

Bob's breath catches. 

Rhett's eyelashes flutter. 

The room is too quiet for this to be a dream.

This is real, and it shouldn't be happening. The nagging of reality chastises you for letting it get this far, for telling them it was okay and not putting a stop to it at the second kiss. But your stubborn heart hammers excitedly at your chest, and your tired soul knows better than to let your shaking hands settle behind their heads. You know not to push their heads in.

Yet, you do it anyway. 

And their parted mouths find each other in the lightest embrace they can muster. Only lasts for three beats of your heart before they part, neither quite opening their eyes. The voice of logic asks why you did that. 

The voice of your heart wonders why their attentions are turning back to you. Why Rhett is leaning in so suddenly, and why you've considered that he may want to kiss you, too. Because his mouth is warmer than the burning streetlight, and he smiles into it like he's gotten everything he's ever wanted. 

You don't know when your eyes closed, but you don't need to open them to know that it's Bobby who kisses you next. Sweet and soft, like you're kissing a marshmallow and not your best friend. Then Rhett's finding you again, then back to Bob, and you're beginning to lose track of all these toothy, chaste pecks that never fail to stir up the butterflies in your belly.

"'s this what we're doin' now?" You can hear Rhett's grin in his tone, punctuated by your own daring venture, leaning up to catch his mouth again. "Kisses?" 

Bobby's nose bumps into your temple, close for no reason other than for the sake of it. "What else would you call these?" You think that might be a little bit of stubble you feel, scratching against your forehead, only makes you want to run your hands across it. "Lip locks, smooches, a touch of the lips as a sign of—"

Rhett's cutting him short, the remainder of those babbling words devolving into a smothered grunt. 

There's something off about this picture. You shouldn't be collapsing back into the mattress, smothered by the combined weight of Rhett Abbott and Robert Floyd. If this goes wrong, then how many years of friendship spiral down the drain? This isn't what friends do. 

Friends don't share hotel beds and kiss under the streetlight glow. The sins of your selfishness are illuminated by those gleaming rays, allowing your greedy gaze to eat up the way Rhett's hair falls into his face as he sucks at the juncture of your jaw. How Bob's guiding himself with his nose, finding a spot behind Rhett's ear that makes him gasp.

"I suppose this is what our folks were afraid of," Bob's muffled voice punctures the silence, "us in the same bed and all."

A chuckle draws out of Rhett's chest, so deep the thunder ought to be jealous. "The ol' tyrant of my house would be havin' a fit if he knew 'bout this."

The voices in your head are still crying for you to stop here.

But you've forgotten how to listen. 

"Who gives a damn," and before you can think twice about it, your hand is grabbing hold of Bob's shirt collar and yanking him in. 

There's nothing worth worrying about. Not when Bob's weight is fully settling on top of you, chests rising and falling in perfect unison. The short locks of his hair fall forward, tickling against your skin, his big, warm palms cradling your cheeks, the gentle bump of his chin against yours drawing a whine out of your throat.

He jolts, breaking away with a gasp, "Rhett—"

"Don't you worry 'bout what I'm doin'," is the only response Rhett gives before Bob is sucking in another breath of air. Squirming, as Rhett nibbles at the juncture of his sensitive neck, has already left a red mark in his wake. And with Bob's unfortunate reputation, it's sure to bruise by sunrise. 

Rhett's hands delve between your bodies, sliding beneath Bob's shirt, and that's all it takes for you to tug on it again. The three of you devolve into a tangle of limbs as you haul it over his head, exposing miles upon miles of milky white skin and intricately freckled shoulders. Tiny spots that you're racing Rhett to kiss. 

All it does is make Bob bolder. Defiant palms gliding up the sides of your waist, pushing your shirt up to expose your warm tummy to the chilly hotel air. Bold fingertips stop just short of your breasts, bumping into the swell of them for a fraction of a moment.

Rhett's calloused touch glides up your newly revealed skin, greedy for a feel of you. "'n here I thought I was rushin' y'all." 

"I didn't know there was a set timeline for this," Bob's leaning back, bumping into Rhett, as he fights to get a better look at you, laid out beneath him.

"There's going to be if you two keep talking," your eyes roll, pleasantly annoyed to find that they're still the same, even now. 

"Ain't gotta tell us twice, darlin'." And before you can process what Rhett has just said, he's planting a palm between Bobby's shoulder blades and pressing. Has him collapsing on top of you in the blink of an eye, falling right between your parted legs.

It's Rhett's hips that push him forward. Grinding into the soft fat of Bob's ass, simultaneously pushing the outlnie of Bob's half-hard cock into your core. You don't know if it's you or Bob who whimpers the loudest, a bolt of lightning jumping up your spine. 

That's... that's...

"Shit," Rhett swears, leaning in close, like he's worried someone will hear him through these ancient walls, "forgot you're still a virgin, Bobby boy."

"I'm begging you not to bring it up," Bob's choking through a stifled noise as your body rolls upward, his cock twitching so hard that you can feel it through your clothes. "Fuck—"

And there's more to that, but he's burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing hard as your hands slide up his back. Rising up into the first, weary motion of his hips. Strange at first. Doesn't quite know what he's doing yet; not quite as fluid, a little too rigid. But Rhett's grunting beneath his breath, and you've got the sneaking suspicion he's learning fast. 

It sure feels like it. The heavy bulge in his sweats massaging against you, only drawing back to press into the body behind him, letting Rhett's instinctual thrust push him back in. Wondrously punctuated by the glisten of Rhett's teeth as he bites his lip, failing to hold back a groan. 

Oh, and their hands are wandering. Rhett's calloused palms finding their way to your thighs, dragging up until he bumps into the hem of your shorts. Bob's fingers dare to rise and dance across your breast, feeling the way you fit into his grasp. 

"'s an awful nice sight," Rhett muses, and now he's reaching beneath your shirt, too. Rucking it up to expose your chest, thumb fondly drifting over your nipple. Sends you jolting, knees knocking into Bob's sharp hips.

"You're one to talk," you don't realize it's you who's talking until the words are already out of your mouth, unhindered by the sudden yank on your clothes. Tugging the thin t-shirt over your head suddenly exposes you to them in your entirety. 

They're falling over each other. Shoulders collide, and heads knock together as they dip down. Rhett's hot mouth wraps around your nipple. Bob's tickling tongue guides him down your collar, taking his time to shower your neglected breast with his attention, softened gaze never once leaving your face. 

Your palm clamps over your mouth, back rising up off the bed. Oh, this is...this is...

Bob's whine cuts through the air. Has the utmost audacity to bat his lashes at you and pout. "Wanna hear you." His hips buck forward, knocking a noise past your lips before you can think twice. 

You're in so much trouble.

But you can't dwell on it for longer than a fracture of a second because their attentions are already migrating. Working their way down your belly despite the limited space they've given themselves. Bob's shoulder bumps into Rhett's chin, growing closer and closer together until they're snug against one another, forced to stop just shy of your shorts. 

Your thumbs are hooking into the hem of them before you can think twice. Had only intended to draw off one article of clothing at the time, but Rhett's helping hands tug your underwear down, too. Not an easy task when your legs are split around Bob's hips, forcing you to draw your knees up to your chest. Can't imagine the kind of view you must give them, just trying to get the material past your heels. 

"Now wait a damn—" Bob's squeaking, batting at the hands yanking on his sweats. "Rhett!"

But it's already far too late because Rhett's shoving them down his thighs without a second thought. Heavy cock springing from its confines, so heavy and long that it struggles to stand upright, knocking into his hip instead. It's only because of the streetlight that you can see the thin vein running along the side of him, some dumb little quirk that you shouldn't find so endearing.

Rhett has yet to notice the apparent monster that's unwillingly made itself known in the room. Too busy messing with his own pants to look up and pay attention. Until a wayward glance damn near reels him in like a fish on a hook.

"Jesus, Bobby," he breathes like he's caught up in a goddamn trance. "Why'd ya never tell us y' were hung like a goddamn horse?"

Your daring hand reaches up.

"Forgive me," he's sucking in a sharp breath as your warm fingers wrap around his cock, feeling the weight of him in your hand, "I was waiting to tell you over a candlelit dinner somewhere in Paris."

You don't know what Rhett is up to until your hand is drenched in chilly lubricant poured from a bottle you don't recognize the origin of. Slickening the glide, squelching far too loudly for how delicately you spread it across him. Such a simple touch that draws the sweetest whine past Bobby's parted lips, so unused to the sensation of a hand that isn't his own. 

Rhett's big hand encompasses yours. Squeezing tight as he guides Bob's cock down, thick length sliding through your folds. It's against everything a best friend should be doing, and yet, it feels so good—a twinge of excitement twirling up your spine from this alone. 

"Y' ain't fixin' to believe how long I've thought 'bout this," Rhett sounds like he's on another planet. Doesn't fight as you take hold of his wrist, guiding his lube-slicked fingers between your legs, right to where you crave his attention most. 

He doesn't need a lick of guidance from there. The rough pad of his finger presses daringly against your entrance, gasping with you as he slips inside. 

"'n by the feel of it," his eyelashes flutter at the way you clench around him, some involuntary little movement that makes your knees feel weak, "y've got it as bad as I do."

Bobby shifts, throbbing length dragging against your clit a smidgen harder. Such a strange sight to see his flushed tip between your legs like this, rubbing up and down in languid motions, so distracting that you damn near forget that Rhett's hand is crammed between your bodies. 

At least, you forget until his finger curls upward. Stroking against a spongey little bundle of nerves that makes you squeal. "Rhett!"

Wordless, he chuckles, a second finger dipping inside to join the first. Shallowly working his way in and out, only focusing on tormenting the one spot that makes you squirm. Your hand flies down to grab hold of his wrist, head tilting back, trying your damnest to ignore the way Bob traces his nails up your naked sides. A distant tickle that makes your back rise up off the bed, unsure if you want to lean into it or squirm away. 

It's hard to ignore how easily Rhett's working you open. Two wonderfully thick digits growing to become three, stretching you wide and so, so much bigger than your own. You don't know how you'll ever satisfy your cravings, now that you've had a taste of the real thing. The way his knuckles catch on your rim, how his gaze fixates so heavily on the sight of your cunt taking him in.

As quickly as he appeared, he's drawing away. Leaving behind a certain kind of coldness that can only be thwarted by him. 

"God, you're such a pretty sight," Bob marvels aloud, a certain sort of sparkle in his eye that wasn't quite there before. And there seems to be more he wants to say because his short pink tongue is darting out to wet his lips, already parting with the beginnings of another sentence. 

But Rhett's hands are appearing on his naked hips, squeezing the bone there, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the way some of his fingers glisten with your wetness. Catching in the light as he nudges Bob forward. 

"Jesus, Rhett—" Bob's knee slides against the comforter, struggling to keep up with the way Rhett's pushing him forward. "What're you doing?"

You've already got a pretty good idea of what your beloved cowboy is up to, your hand already reaching to wrap around his wet cock. Guiding him between your folds. Selfishly pausing to enjoy the final drag of his cock head against your clit, on its way down to where you're aching. 

"Oh." He murmurs dumbly, sucking in a shaky breath as he squints up at your face. Never has been able to see far without his glasses. "I-is...is this okay? Are we...?" 

"Only if you want it," you don't know why you're whispering, too focused on running your thumb over his slit to do much else.

Rhett's chin comes to rest against Bob's shoulder, peering down at the sight between your legs, then flicking his attention elsewhere. It's the kiss he plants on Bob's cheek that soothes his nerves because the tension melts from his shoulders in an instant.

Weary, Bob's head nods as if he needs to affirm it himself, too. "Okay..." the gears in his head are spinning a hundred miles a minute, but again, he's drawing a blank."I...don't know what I'm..."

On their own, your fingers guide him to press against your entrance, and from there, Rhett's got the rest. 

"Jus' like this," he murmurs, biceps flexing as he nudges Bob's hips forward. 

Pressure blooms. Your head falls back against the pillow. This doesn't feel real. There's no way you two are taking your best friend's virginity. But there's no way a dream could recreate the ache as his head slips inside you. 

"There y' go...nice 'n easy," Rhett's deep grumble is something else entirely. 

Bob's eyes squeeze shut, barely muzzling a whimper that sparks a heat in your lower belly. Can feel yourself grow wetter around him as he gradually pushes inside. The stretch is enough to make you reach for the sheets, squeezing them tight in your fist. Doesn't necessarily hurt per se, but God. You could have never anticipated this. 

But he's slowly disappearing inside of you, inch by dizzying inch, and the bed is dipping as Rhett moves to settle next to you. Big chest on full display, the golden glow of the streetlight drawing your eye down his gently toned belly to where his cock rests against his hip. Thicker than Bob is, a glistening pearl of precum collected at his tip. 

You can't help but reach over and take him into your hand. No, you've waited far too long to deny yourself the simple pleasure of spreading the clear fluid with your thumb, ears blessed with the sound of Rhett's breath catching.

All the while, Bob's hands find themselves braced on either side of you until he's finally confident enough to let himself lay against you. Soft lips find your jaw just as he bottoms out, not an inch of him left to take, his hips flush with yours. 

"Ain't you two jus' somethin'," he's rolling onto his side, head snug against his pillow, and you reckon this is what a Greek god would look like down here on the mortal plane. Long hair and soft muscles, wrapped up in a cozy golden glow, smiling in a lazy sort of fashion that only ever looks good on him, "lookin' at me all doe-eyed."

But you can only focus on him for so long before you start to grow impatient, squirming, jostling Bob inside you. "You can move, Bobby,"

Obedient, he does just that, rising up onto his forearms, caging your head between them as he draws himself back. Only by about an inch, maybe two, before gravity reels him back in. The upper side of his cock already dragging deliciously against the nerves hidden along your walls. 

He's learning too quickly for his own good, pulling out a little quicker, less hesitation in his hips as he figures out what he's doing. Knocks the breath right out of your lungs, keening in your throat. There's something about getting fucked by your best friend while the other one watches that really does things to you. 

"Fuck," Bob's cold nose nuzzles your cheek, so close that you struggle to get a look at his face, "You feel so good, oh my god." 

And he'd be babbling if he weren't whimpering like the cutest thing you've ever seen. Blindly guiding himself across your skin until his lips bump into yours, but he's too far down to kiss you properly. No, he's got to draw himself up a little higher, biceps trembling as he pulls himself upward, and—

"Bobby!" Stars sparkle in your vision. 

Distantly, you think you catch the sound of Rhett chuckling.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Bob's chanting under his breath, a dainty whisper of your name chasing it, your lips clashing for the briefest of moments, "'s that it?"

"Right there," you blurt. Can't keep a damn word on your tongue for longer than a millisecond. "Keep—keep doing that." 

And he does. 

Oh, he does, and you fear you might float right out the damn window and up into the stars. Legs rising, squeezing his hips, some obscene, wet noise punctuating the slick glide of him. Only worsened by the way he leans back, peering down at where you're split open around him, just enough of a shift for him to knock into those nerves a little harder. Mushroom tip kissing them over. And over. And over. Sends your pussy fluttering around him like a goddamn butterfly.

"Shit, I can feel—oh," and you're so thankful that he collapses back into you because your hands are aching to roam the war, freckled expanse of his back. Blunt nails digging into the meat of his shoulder, draws the faintest whisper of a hiss from his lips. 

There's a hand on you that isn't Bobby's. Calloused. Wet fingers trailing down your side and into the pocket of space between your and Bob's bellies. Crawling down, down, down. Between your parted thighs, devilishly rough fingertips pressing to your clit. 

"Rhett—" your strangled voice hardly leaves your mouth. Legs twitching around Bob's hips as those damned fingers start to spiral against you. It's not fair. He's figuring you out far too easily. Makes it so much harder for you to open your mouth again. "Stop." 

Bob's head pops up. Wide eyes peering up at you, rhythm stuttering to a slow. 

Delirious, your head shakes, "not you." 

He doesn't say a word, but he's drawing himself back onto his haunches. It does nothing but give Rhett more room to torment you, even if his fingers have already stilled to a halt. You'll never understand how they manage to give you the same damned look, furrowed brows, and tilted heads, like two puppies trying to figure out what you're asking of them. 

"Can't yet," you choke. It's so hard to find words when Bobby's still rolling into you, balls gently smacking against your ass. "Wanna..." you're trying to motion with your hand, but all you can manage is to flail your palm in Rhett's general direction.

But Rhett's figured you out. You know he has because his eyebrows rise, incredulous. "Wantin' both of us in the same night, huh?" 

For a moment, you think you've won. His hand draws away as he moves to sit up, instead opting to tangle his hand in Bobby's hair and pull him in for a kiss that you hear more than you see. Wet lips smacking together, Rhett seeming to groan purely from Bob's little whine. 

He's close. You can feel it. The way he's twitching inside of you, spontaneous motions of muscle that have no right to spark a fire within you. Burning up into your chest, eating away at the oxygen in your lungs. Rhett may have given up on getting you close. He may be sidling up behind Bobby again. But he might as well still be tormenting your clit, because that heat is spreading, and a familiar coil is beginning to tighten, clamping down around Bob's throbbing cock. 

Rhett's big palm slides down Bobby's chest. Doesn't stop until he can pinch a perky little nipple.

Bobby yelps. And it's like he's been kicked back into gear because his hand is dipping between your legs, thumb stroking up your soaked folds, picking up right where Rhett left off. Rubbing feather light spirals into your clit. Shouldn't be enough contact to satisfy you, and yet the faintness of it all is somehow too much. 

"I'm—I'm," he's stuttering, head shaking back and forth like he can fight off the feeling bubbling in his lower belly. 

You should stop him here. You don't have anything to clean up with. If he cums in you, it's going to be in you for the whole damn night, making a mess of you, your clothes, and the sheets. And yet your legs are tightening around him anyway, ankles locked behind him, and you're nodding. In the same damn boat as him. "Uhuh." 

His whimper cuts through the air. Pretty blue eyes rolling. The only reason he doesn't collapse on top of you is because of the arm Rhett's coiled around his waist. Hips stuttering to a sudden halt. Shoves you over the edge before you can think twice. Back arching up off the bed, cumming around his spasming cock with a cry you're certain the whole fucking building hears.

But clarity doesn't come to you. 

There's no dawn of realization as your muscles quit twitching. Your shaky inhale does nothing to put out the embers still raging deep in your bones. Isn't a hint of sudden overexposure as you pry your eyes open, weakly smiling up at Bobby's sweaty face. You don't mind them seeing you like this at all.

Gingerly, Bob leans back, taking his time as he pulls out of your cunt; the muscles there still clenching around him, even if you can no longer feel that you're doing it. He barely has the energy to settle beside you, a warm arm resting across your stomach, pressing chaste kisses to your shoulder. 

In the back of your mind, you think you can feel his cum spilling out of you. 

"Shit, Bobby," Rhett murmurs, a wayward finger rising to push it back inside; you can't imagine what that must look like, "made a fuckin' mess."

The only remark he receives is Bob's half attempt at a grumble. Not his fault that you defiantly pulled him deeper, rather than push him away. But he does have the strength to reach for Rhett's forgotten cock, half hard and still just as flushed as it was before. Seems to know what he's doing when he flicks his wrist because Rhett's entire body jerks.

Your foot kicks his thigh, "still not done, cowboy,"

"You're somethin' else," he chuckles, with the faintest shake of his head, like he can't believe what's happening, "both of ya, actually." 

But first, it seems he's got something else in mind. Rubbing up the inside of Bob's knee, breaching into the territory of his pale thighs, not particularly thick but just plush enough to grab a handful of. Squeezing, kneading the fat between his big fingers. 

Bob's idle hand keeps stroking him. Slow ups and downs that work him back up until Rhett's leaking into his palm, angry red tip demanding attention. You have to roll onto your side to get a better look, the show only stopping long enough for Bob to lick the pad of his thumb, bringing it back to massage over the engorged head. 

A beat passes. He does it again.

"If y' wanted to taste me, all ya had to do was ask," Rhett's fighting to speak through his grin, and you're primarily certain he's joking, but there's an undertone of seriousness hidden there, too. 

That's all Bob needs to hear. "So come up here, then."

And who would Rhett be to deny him? Climbing up to straddle Bob's pale chest, leaning forward to grab hold of the headboard, his other hand guiding his cock to that cute, waiting mouth. Greeted with a shy kitten lick at first, unfamiliar with the ropes. 

Your jaw aches just looking at the size of Rhett. Can't imagine what it must feel like for Bobby when he hesitantly parts his lips, taking him in, heavy on his tongue.

He's still new to this. Can't take very much into his mouth before he starts to gag, but his hand works what he can't fit, the corners of his eyes glistening with fresh tears. Whining his frustrations, breathing hard through his nose.

"There y' go," Rhett's sucking in a breath, "fuckin' fast learner, ain't you?"

It's impossible to reign in your laugh, "You're telling me." The mess between your legs is a testament of its own, sensitive and aching, whether it be craving from more or exhaustion, you can't tell.

"Eager as hell, too," Rhett's eyes roll; you wish you had a camera to capture that sight for the rest of forever. "Shit." 

All Bob can do is whine. Mouth too full to do anything else, trying his best to lift his head and take more of Rhett's cock, even with the fingers tangling in his hair, trying to pull him back. Lips struggling to stay closed around him, knocked loose by Rhett's slow thrust.

"That good?" You murmur, so fixated on the sight of him that you've forgotten everything else. 

It sounds like he tries to hum a little "uhuh" in response. Muffled, racing all the way up Rhett's sensitive spine. Has him jerking away with a gasp. Gripping the base of his cock with his fist like he's trying to chase off the twinges of sensitivity. 

"Did I do something wrong?" Bobby's tone is frail. One loud noise, and it'll shatter into a million tiny pieces.

Rhett's breath slides between his closed teeth on its way back out. "Complete opposite, actually." A beat passes, and he's on the move again. Sliding down the bed, his hands coming to settle on your hips, squeezing lightly.

It's hard to tell if it's you or Bob who yelps. But one way or another, you've found yourself face down on the mattress. The whole damn world spinning around you, struggling to catch up. Has he always been that strong, or are you actually dreaming these things up?

"Chris above," Bob mutters, "since when were you able to do that?"

Rhett's not done. Lifting your hips until your knees slip beneath you, propping your ass up for him. "Y' wrangle enough calves 'n eventually it becomes second nature,"

You can't believe what you're hearing, blindly kicking with your foot once more. Miss. "Are you really comparing me to one of your cattle right now?"

"A mighty cute one," a wet noise emanates through the room as his cock smacks against your cunt, "if that makes it any better." 

So long as he doesn't give you any ear tags, you suppose.

Maybe you've bitten off more than you can chew because, from the moment he nudges into you, one thing becomes painfully clear. He's so much thicker than Bob is. Stretching you even wider, has to pause to slick himself with lube because even with the obscene mixture of Bob's saliva and cum, it's not enough. 

"Still so fuckin' tight," he hisses, grabbing a greedy handful of your ass. You don't know if you're tight or if he's just big, splitting you wide open, forcing the air from your lungs, eating up every bit of space you could possibly offer.

Thunder rumbles. The streetlight flickers like a candle. Off, on, off, then on again. Wind howls outside of the window, seems to be squeezing through the cracks of the seal because you don't know where else that cool breeze would be coming from. But it's no match for the heat radiating off Rhett's big chest, snug against your naked back as he presses kisses to your shoulder. Still pressing into you. Inch by devastating inch. Until his hips are flat against your ass, not a centimeter between your bodies.

You'd try to lift your head if you weren't fighting to keep it attached to your shoulders. Feels like it's about to spin right off your shoulders. 

"Y' alright?" Rhett's asking so gently, infuriatingly, sets a half dozen butterflies fluttering in your belly. 

As if this is an appropriate situation for them to be showing their flashy little wings. 

"Move," it's only one word, and yet, you damn near have to strangle it out of your throat. 

Rhett doesn't need another ounce of encouragement. Pulling himself back with all the power and confidence of a man who knows what he's doing. So thick that he hits those little nerves without the slightest effort, strikes them hard as he snaps back into you. Balls smacking into your oversensitive clit. His soft grunts nearly washed over by the smack of skin on skin.

"Bobby really did a number on ya," marveling aloud, so focused on the mess made of your pussy that you can feel the warmth of his gaze. Sticky cum audibly squelching inside of you, about to be so, so much worse once he's done with you. 

But you can't think about that right now. Not when he's kissing up your spine, forearms bracketing your hips, keeping you from sliding up the bed and away from the heavy punches of his cock. "Y've no idea," kiss. "How much," another kiss, groaning under his breath. "I've wanted this." Kiss.

Your head tilts, peering over your shoulder, straining for a look at his flushed face. "You been dreaming 'bout fucking us, cowboy?" Taunting. A little too confident for someone split open on his dick.

"I'm the reason all our folks were worried," he's taking it all in stride, leaning back, sweaty chest glistening in the light as if to give you a show, "still waitin' to wake up 'n learn this is all a dream."

He leans off to the side. Feeling around, digging through the pocket of his discarded pants. Produces something shiny. Enough to make Bob's breath catch, but far too small for you to see what the hell it is. 

And he sets it right against your ass. Metal so cold that it's the only thing you can think of. Round. With a little—

"Oh my god," you gasp through a whimper. Suddenly have the strength to rise onto your forearms, trying your damnest to defy the laws of your body and turn your head all the way around. "My promise ring?" 

"Y' told me to do somethin' with it," he grins, downright devilish. An idle hand reaches below your belly, feeling around. 

"I told you to make it disappear," the fight leaves your tone the moment his fingers press to your clit. What strength you have fades from your body in an instant, suddenly unable to think of anything but the motion of his fingertips. "Christ, Rhett." 

Next to you, Bob seems to have stolen your energy, moving to sit up, unable to rest and watch any longer. You can barely see the way he sidles up next to Rhett, soft cock pressing into his thigh, kissing at that pale, sweaty neck, defiantly sucking a mark into the skin there. Seems to match the one Rhett left on Bob's neck earlier.

Rhett twitches inside of you. Keening in his throat. Doesn't realize what he's just knocked into. Electricity bolting up your spine. Arms going weak. So sensitive all of a sudden, pussy spasming around him. Driven by the spirals of his fingers and the sweet grunts that kiss your ears.

"Rhett," you're collapsing down into the pillow once more, writhing. Panting for a breath you can't catch. "fuck, I...I—"

His hips stutter. "I know it," breathy, rhythm quickening with an urgency you recognize too well, "c'mon, cum 'round my cock, doll."

You don't know where it's come from. All at once, your nerves are on fire, and you're shaking from head to toe. Biting into the pillow. Fighting to keep quiet as he fucks you, fat cock head rubbing against those little nerves over and over and over. You're gonna...you're gonna...

It washes over you like an ocean wave on a serene afternoon. Slow. Starts with a twitch in your foot and boils higher. Tightening like a vice as you cum around his cock. Mewling into the open air, head spinning. And yet you're just conscious enough to feel the stutter of Rhett's hips. Cumming inside of you with a guttural groan that rumbles deep into your bones. Think you can feel him twitching, throbbing as he pumps you full. Only adding to the mess they've made. 

A mess that you have no idea how you'll clean up.

But for right now, you don't have much energy to be thinking about that. Because Rhett's collapsing into you, smothering you into the bed, and Bobby's coming down, too. Forming a big, sweaty pile on top of you. Arms wind around you. Kisses pepper your skin. It happens so quickly, and yet, you already don't know where they start and end. 

And they're warm. 

"We've made such a mess," Bob giggles, the tip of his nose bumping into your forehead. 

Yes, you have. But all you can think about is squirming backward, stealing the heat radiating from Rhett's naked body, hugging someone's arm to your chest. You don't think you'll have the strength to move in the morning. Or the day after that, for that matter. 

Frankly, you don't think they will be able to, either. 

---

A part of you expects to wake up to the crushing reality of regret. That someone has had time to simmer on what happened and has decided this isn't what they really want. That it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. A mistake made over some well-timed hormones and poor thinking.

Not one bit of you expects what you're actually greeted with. 

Two sleepy bodies. Kissing up on you. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear as they bicker and fight over who gets to kiss your lips. Heads knocking together. Messy hair poking up in every direction as they struggle for dominance. Each stubborn in their own, adorable right.  

It's not until later that you realize they're just as serious about this as you are. 

It happens some time after Rhett bends Bobby over. Bob's inexperienced but eager tongue drawing an orgasm out of you before you've truly adjusted to the sight of him between your legs. Drooling. Whining as Rhett drills into him from behind, neglected cock bouncing between his pale legs, struggling to keep upright. 

You reckon this is what you looked like last night. God, just the thought of it makes you sore. 

Fresh tears spill down Bobby's face. Overwhelmed but too into it to stop, as his trembling body collapses on top of you. Lips still slick with your wetness, shuddering like a leaf in the Wyoming wind. Muttering weakly for Rhett not to stop. Leaning into your hand as it tangles through his hair. 

He's cute, like this. Trying his damnest to keep up with Rhett, leaning on you to keep himself from falling apart at the seams. With his flushed cheeks and pitchy noises. So loud and unlike him. Confident when it's just the three of you. Unashamed to babble for Rhett to cum in him. Doesn't fear the cleanup that will involve or the short amount of time you have to get out of this hotel, lest they charge for another day.

No, you don't realize until after they both tumble on top of you. Heaving chests and tangled legs, pinned up against one another like sardines in a can despite the ample room available.

"Can I convince you two to get breakfast with me?" Bob's soft voice kisses your ears with its appearance. "I'll buy."

And all Rhett does is laugh. Loud. Hearty. The kind that makes his head tilt backward, curls bouncing. "Oh, so now y' wanna wine 'n dine us." He grins, palm coming down to lightly smack Bob's ass. Knocks a surprised whimper out of him. "Got that a lil backwards, Bobby."

Bob's eyes roll; he should have seen that remark coming a mile away. "I'm offering you free food, you dumb cowboy."

"Hey now," Rhett's still chuckling, the prettiest noise you've ever heard, "I never said I wouldn't take ya up on it." 

Two pairs of blue eyes turn to you. Each glistening with their own form of excitement and hope that you've come to recognize over the years. You know it better than you know yourself. How Bobby offers you his every emotion on a silver platter. The way Rhett fails to hide the soft fondness reserved for you and Bob.

"Breakfast sounds good," and unknowingly, you've sealed your fate. 

Not that you mind. Of course. 

 The drive takes twice as long as it was supposed to. Not one of you can keep your eyes on the road for longer than a few hours at a time. Too eager for kisses and fleeting touches and the shy, awkward giggles that come with crossing into this unfamiliar territory. Cramming yourselves into the backseat for an uncomfortable but cozy nap when the road becomes too much to handle.

When you were kids, your attachment issues were horrible. Not one of you could go without the other. Bobby sulked and refused to socialize with anyone who wasn't the two of you. Rhett raised hell when he was placed in a class away from you and Bob. Your entire week would be ruined if you couldn't go out on one of your adventures with the Abbott and Floyd boys. 

You'd thought those issues had faded with time. A sort of thing melted by maturity and the understanding that separation would not be forever.

You were wrong. 

When it comes time for Rhett to part ways to get ready for the rodeo to start, your heart defiantly aches. Isn't helped by the number of kisses he showers you and Bob with, the way he refuses to let go of your hands until the very last second. It's dumb, and it's childish, and you can't help it. Emotions are hard to handle. Especially ones that have been pent up for several years.

So you and Bob glue to each other. Share the same gasp when Rhett bursts from the chute. Unable to breathe as that beast of an animal bucks and twists through the air. Fighting with everything it has to get him off its back. The crowd roars for a cowboy they've never seen before and shoots to their feet before the buzzer sounds. 

You don't see him fall off, but Bob catches sight of him bounding out of the arena. Disappearing once more, mixed in with the other riders. There and gone in less than a minute. All that driving done for such little time in the limelight. The only confirmation he was really there is when his name soars up onto the scoreboard.

He doesn't appear again until after the rodeo. When you and Bob stand idly by the parking lot, ears pricked for the sound of his voice, unsure if you're in the right place or not. These rodeos are never the same. Sometimes the riders come out into the parking lot. Other times, they wind up on the far side of the stadium, where they have no reason to be.

It's the clank of spurs that give him away. Moseying out from behind a gate, 

His name still sits on the scoreboard, occupying the second-place slot. Got knocked down a peg by a bull rider with a hell of a ride. He should be cussing. Scowling that he almost had it, he'll do better next time and won't be beaten out by dumb luck. But that version of Rhett doesn't seem to exist anymore.

Because he's running. Arms wide open. A big, dopey grin on his scruffy face as he downright jumps on you and Bob. Spinning, dragging you two along with him like he's just won the lottery. Streetlight casting a perfect, golden glow on his handsome face. 

He steals a kiss from your lips before you can register it. 

Then one from Bob, too. 

"Are you alright?" You're blinking. Once. Twice. But the illusion never fades; it's as real as you are.

All Rhett can do is grin. "Never better."  But the corner of his lip twitches; knows exactly what he's doing.

"You're sure?" Bobby's falling right into his trap. Forever blind to the antics of a dumb cowboy.  "You only act like this when you win."

"But I did win,"  Rhett beams, far too proud of himself, as he opens his mouth and says, "I got both of you, didn't I?"

...

huh.

Bob's groan resonates from the very depths of his soul. Eyes rolling. "Oh my god."  Physcially needs to turn and look away, as if the very sight of Rhett pains him.

A smile bursts out onto your face. Truly don't know what you were expecting, all things considered. "How long were you working on that one?"

Rhett's grin grows impossibly brighter; you reckon the streetlights are jealous of its shine. "Stole it from the fella in sixth place, actually." 

And with a wink, he starts to walk. On a one-way track to the car, he doesn't need to look over his shoulder to see if you'll follow or not. He knows you will. You all know it.

It will take twice the amount of time to get back to town. But as you and Bob stumble after your shared cowboy like a pair of too-eager puppies, you can't help but wonder if the home is where your boyfriends are. Wherever that may be.

Even in run-down hotels out in the middle of nowhere, as much as you may complain about it.

[vitaetmorsfilo]

this is a list of moments where natsu is smart (but its also me yapping because i was getting bored waiting for every little instance) (episodes from 49 to 64)

- upon their first encounter with oracion seis, smelled them and alerted gray and everyone

- when carla told them that wendy's dragon, grandeeny, suddenly disappeared seven years ago, started connecting dots in his brain

- when fighting those bro-monkey goons, after getting shot at his back, simply incinerated bullets (were they physical? magical? anyways, cool)

- (look how friendly he is with erigor, meeting him after so long, how erigor is unnerved by it and gray is fucking done with him-)

- interrogated beat up goons about whereabouts of oracion seis' lair (sure, with erza-esque tactic "ask-punch-repeat", but at least he thought of it)

- (also, it must be their temporary place, but oracion seis' lair is so pathetic it's hysterical. we have grimoire heart with their cool-looking flying ship with mechanical heart, we have tartarus with their highly functional flying cube, and these have, like, a cave? where all your guild goon taxes went to? racer's motorcycles?)

- when natsu, wendy and cats reached fallen erza, he was quick to ask for help and point out that no matter what she may have done with jellal, erza really needed her help (well, not really smarts thing, but natsu's quick actions allowed wendy to finally pull herself together)

- when nirvana has activated its magic and sent a black light beam, natsu either sensed or figured that jellal was there were beam of nirvana is

- (okay, nirvana thingamagick has my respect for having nothing to do with zeref and co. but what was the point of its first stage, where people who are usually on one side of morals and are on the gray side for this moment, get their side of morals switched? sherry, who was grief stricken switched to attacking gray, wendy was nearing the switch with her guilt over jellal situation, but hibiki knocked her out, and hoteye was reminded of his time with his brother when fighting jura and he switched from being money-obsessed to being pacifist. very mixed bag of results if you ask me. hibiki later explained that the switching is controllable in final phase, but in the first one? is it more like a side effect of first stage for activating nirvana? prolly-)

- (lucy happy and carla saying that in case of switching natsu won't change much, and that he exists outside of framework of good and evil, they did NOT pull the punches, my favourite freak of the monster nature)

- (respect from me to angel, she summoned gemini for a prolonged period of time, and as far as i know they are rather magic-consuming, AND she was using her spirits cleverly, countering aquarius with scorpio and loki with aries)

- (also, gemini is such underappreciated spirit for how lucy moved their heart, damn)

- (and, like, uranometria is cool, but how did lucy even have enough magic power for it, if she was feeling weak after summoning in quick succession? eh, i'm nitpicking, but there is little else for me to do-)

- ("actually, i didn't die😒" sorano😭😭😭😭)

- (can you imagine a what-if "what if when wendy was travelling with mystogan, that anima that forced him to leave wendy never happened?" i mean, they look so much like siblings already, gosh-)

- (can you imagine being a kind hearted and optimistic kid in a god awful situation, and then getting brainwashed and manipulated into doing even more despicable thing, and later being freed from brainwashing and realising all the sins you've committed? god, take all the cramps from jellal and give them to, i dunno, brain)

- btw, when fighting cobra, was it natsu and happy's first on-screen airborne fight? mad respect for them and their team work!!!

- when fighting cobra, when he declared that he was going to stop nirvana, and cobra replied that he was not letting natsu near brain, natsu put two and two together and figured that it was brain who controlled nirvana

- when fighting cobra, he was rather fast in switching between tactics, first he just punched, second he tried rapid firing long ranged attacks, third he was hiding in ruins in ambush attack, then he fucking joked at cobra mentally and actually got him to laugh, happy even thought of faking their attacks. even cobra admitted that natsu was thinking a lot and that he had some not bad plans

- when fighting cobra, managed to get so into fight he was fighting without thinking, getting a couple of hits on cobra. that impressed cobra, leaving him to question whenever natsu is actually a genius or a total idiot, for he is seeing someone like that for the first time. hearing that cobra was a dragon slayer was what threw him out of that state

- got into cobra's close quarters, almost getting him to face a roar close up

- (they really only won because of natsu accidentally letting out an extra loud non-magical roar AND brain back-stabbing cobra)

- natsu, exhausted, poisoned, and motion sick, chomping into brain-

[rainofaugustsith]

SWTOR "redemption arc" vs. FFXIV atonement arc: SWTOR Villain: But I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! I had a magic ceremony! Let's be friends? SWTOR Villain's friend: Come on! Give him a chance! Forgiiiiive! SWTOR PC: Sure thing! Come right into my high-security base and work with me and my friends! In fact, *boots longtime friends* take their place on critical missions! You're redeemed now! Other SWTOR NPCS: Sure, we're all cool with that. Welcome to the team, bro! or: SWTOR PC: Actually I'm not cool with that. I don't want you on my base. GAME: MONSTER! DARK SIDE! EVIL SITH - oh wait, you're a Jedi? EVIL JEDI WHO HAS OBVIOUSLY FALLEN! SWTOR PC: I actually don't necessarily want to kill him. Just not be his BFF and have him on my base and all. GAME: Nah. Your only choice is the ole slice n' dice! Enjoy! Oh and you're a monster. SWTOR PC: But you didn't give me another option! GAME: MONSTER!

***

FFXIV Villain: Fuck all of you. I want nothing to do with any of you. Let me die in this jail cell.  FFXIV NPC: Or, um, you could use the powers you actually have to help people.  FFXIV Villain: *sigh* Fine.  FFXIV NPC: Thanks. Back in your jail cell now. We might let you out again, but we don't trust you as far as we can spit.  Other FFXIV NPCs: Yeah we kind of hate you. You massacred our families.  FFXIV Villain: ....... can't disagree there. I did.  (much later)  FFXIV NPC: So you've done well in a lot of these missions. Well done. BTW, we still don't trust you and people still hate you.  FFXIV Villain: Yep. They do.  FFXIV Villain: ...but maybe something I do in this world could mean something.  FFXIV NPC: True. And if you die now, people will remember only the evil. If you keep atoning maybe they will remember the good? FFXIV Villain: I...can work with that to move forward.  Other FFXIV NPCS: So can we. We don't forgive you.  FFXIV Villain: I'm not asking you to. Back to my cell now? FFXIV NPC: You know what? Maybe we can give you a room and not a cell.

[xsweetelegantdisasterx]

So My name is Aimee, and I bounce around stories. My bestie @stardragongalaxy gave me sound advice to create a master list for all my stories. >-<

Mostly I write about Monsta X, Ateez, The Rampage. And random one shots. My new hobby is writing stories based off of High & Low characters. I will not write about extremely bad shit, but angst is my boo and go too. I like the fluff n stuff, but I am not good at writing a straight fluff story. . My mind becomes clouded with things like "there isn't action. Who did they fight to get to where they needed? Why hasn't my character throat punched anyone yet. . ." ALL VALID QUESTIONS.

If you've made it this far through my rambling, welcome to my disastrous blog. I am an 89 liner, INFJ. And love to write.

OH AND DID I MENTION I'M A HOE FOR LDH? LIKE ALL THE GROUPS. SO THEY WILL BE ADDED ♡

Master List:

High & Low

Nightshade: |Amamiya Bros| 1 2 3 4

Suzuran Boys High School: TBW {To be written}

Oya High: TBW

White Rascals: TBW

Rude Boys: TBW

Daruma: TBW

Sannoh Hoodlum Squad: TBW

Mighty Warriors:

Bernie: (In the process)

Monsta X:

Stuck: {Wonho}

Shownu: TBW

Jooheon: TBW

Minhyuk: TBW

Kihyun: TBW

I.M: TBW

Hyungwon: TBW

The Rampage From Exile Tribe:

Zin

Shogo

Likiya: For Better or For Worse.

Rui: {Yall know i can't have RMPG stories and Not bring him in ♡~♡}

Kazuma: {Him too}

Hokuto

Takahide

Yamasho

Shohei

Makoto

Takuma

Kenta

Itzuki

Riku

Ryu

Kaisei: 1

Requests: {Always Open}

Ateez:

Jongho & Hwa: Fallen {1}

Mingi: TBW

Yunho: TBW

Wooyoung: TBW

[natrasharomanova]

You fell from a CLIFF??

🚨 lore incoming 🚨

in september of 2022 my province was hit with a hurricane that caused a lot of damage and coastal erosion. my aunt and uncle live on the coast (nice lil house on a cliff overlooking the ocean) and my brother and i decided to go visit the week after the hurricane. since they live in a very rural area their power hadn't been restored yet and since they're on a pump they had no electricity OR running water (this detail is important for later).

bro and i decided to go for a walk down to the beach. normally it's fairly easy to scramble down the cliffside to the beach (there's a fairly safe path and we are both experienced rock climbers) so he went down ahead and i told him i'd meet him down there. so i'm on my way to the path and on the very edge of the cliff and have completely forgotten about how much coastal erosion hurricanes cause when the ground disappears from under my feet and i tumble a solid 10 meters down the cliff (if you've ever seen a cartoon character bouncing and rolling down the side of a cliff i imagine that's exactly what it looked like) before landing headfirst on a large boulder.

upon getting up i realized that my head was wet and that i must have landed in water. i was also in a moderate amount of pain and decided to cancel my beach walk. so i scramble BACK up the cliff that i've just fallen down and am on my way back to the house when someone comes out of a neighbouring house to ask me "are you ok? i just heard a scream." to which i replied "oh that's weird, i didn't hear anyone scream, it must have been a bird." guy THEN takes a good look at me and is like "you need to go to the hospital immediately" and i'm like ???? because yes i did just fall off a cliff but also i'm FINE (sidenote, shock is an extremely powerful and also very scary thing).

guy, upon realizing that i will be no help at all, goes to get my aunt who predictably freaks the fuck out upon seeing me because i'm absolutely covered in blood and being very normal about it. guy is like "we should take her to the hospital" and my aunt is like "we need to disinfect the open gash on her head immediately" and my brother, who has finally come back from the beach to be the voice of reason is like "hang on, before any of you do anything she's going to want pictures of this" (picture is provided under the cut because there is a LOT of blood and i don't want anyone to have to see that without being properly warned and prepared for it).

so anyways after my brother documents the moment everyone decides that they should get rid of all the blood to see exactly how bad the wound is before deciding how emergently i need to go to the hospital (a reminder that we're in a very rural area quite far from a trauma center). so everyone is debating the best way to get all the blood off my head so the wound can be inspected but you'll remember that the house is on a pump and there's no running water because the power is still out from the hurricane. so this band of absolute fucking morons decide that the most logical solution is to put a towel over my mouth and nose and then just dump buckets of seawater on my head to clean it off. after visually inspecting the wound there is a heated debate among everyone about whether it warrants a trip to the ER but all these people are engineers and i'm the only one with any medical experience but i'm far too concussed and in shock to add any value to the conversation. they eventually decide to bandage it and observe me overnight and since my brother and i were planning to go back into the city the next day he would just take me straight to the hospital.

BUT they have literally no medical supplies except these massive bandages that are literally the size of my head. so these fuckers take REGULAR TAPE and just use it to tape my head shut and then for good measure they slap a massive bandage on top of it. this whole time i'm mostly distressed about the fact that there's a shitton of blood in my hair and i can't shower because there isn't any running water and they're all like "you just shook hands with death and ran away and your only concern is the blood in your hair????" but idk what to tell you guys i was in shock and highkey not thinking logically.

it's important to note that before these events transpired i had been hoping to run a 160 km race two weeks later (that's 100 miles if you're a savage). so the next day i go to the hospital and tell the doctor "i'm supposed to run a marathon in two weeks" specifically not telling the doctor that i'm actually planning to run the distance of four back to back marathons. doctor says "you can run the marathon as long as your skull isn't fractured" (cue my brother and i doing surprised pikachu faces because neither of us even considered the possibility of my skull being fractured) and then for good measure the doctor is like "you're very lucky to be alive by the way" and sends me for an emergency CT.

after the CT my brother and i decide to go to a bar (again i cannot overstate the degree to which i was unable to think logically) and everyone at the bar is naturally curious about the girl with her head taped shut so i told the story a bunch of times and everyone who heard the story bought me a drink so now i'm in a bar with a concussion and absolutely plastered and i don't think i should have to tell any of you why that's a terrible idea.

SO tl;dr fell off cliff, almost died, got my head taped back together, ran 160 km two weeks later after finding out my skull wasn't fractured

and finally PLEASE do not look at the picture under the cut unless you're comfortable seeing blood don't say i didn't warn you 🫡

[eraserisms]

god where do i even start about your portrayal. i lovelove your shota, he feels real to me. points that's dad now ig. everything feels so picturesque to me, yet so grounded in reality that it's almost like.. romanticizing life in general. the mundane. there is simplicity in routine and there is hope in getting older. threads and plots just feel like home with you and i love that. ily, you and sho both!

I don't even know fuck all about Pokemon or canon Silver (other than basics & what you've told me), but I have fallen head over heels for that little boy just as much as Shota has. Silver is my son now. too. But you flatter me, truly. I love reading your writing just as much as I love writing with you.

As far as my writing goes, I have to agree with you about romanticizing the mundane. I know some people might find it boring, but I really enjoy doing threads that are just...day to day life. No flashy fights, minimal drama, just doing simple things such as writing characters doing the dishes or having a movie night. But, that isn't to say that I don't like writing those kind of things or darker and angstier things.

The feelings are mutual as far as feeling at home with you, and that goes beyond our relationship as writing partners. I am so happy that I decided to follow you back, and I feel that I have made a friend for a lifetime. You have changed my life for the better and I haven't felt this vulnerable with another person for a long time and it's like a breath of fresh air. I love you too and I'm proud to say that you're my friend. Thanks for being my bro.

[ashtheva]

[UNDERSWAP] Quotes For Every Character

I went ahead and wrote some character quotes for every significant character in Underswap (Including some characters who never initially had any concepts.) Hopefully whoever ends up seeing this enjoys them! Some characters will also include headcanons (Which I will explain along with their personality as you read.)

I'm going by the logic that each character retains some of their personality, while still giving off a swapped vibe.

Temmie Quotes:

“h0i!!11!1 im temmie! Temmie da t3m!!1!”

“By my temmie fwakes for 1g!!!”

"Dey totez don't hurt u!!111! :3"

“BUY. THE DAMN. FLAKES!"

"In this world, selfish desires are the only solution!"

Asgore Quotes:

“Do not fret, dear fallen, as it is I, Asgore, Caretaker of the Ruins.”

“If I may ask, do you prefer Golden Flower Tea or Sea Tea? I am not sure if you've had them before, but choose the one that sounds most interesting to you.”

"Would you like to try a piece of pie? I'm... unfortunately not the best at baking, but I try!"

“I am sorry, dear child. As the Ex-King of the Underground, I shall see if you are worthy of the outside world.”

Mad Dummy Headcanon:

Considered "silent, but deadly." Doesn't speak just like the Ruins Dummy in UT, but still attacks you.

Mad Dummy Quotes:

"..."

"..."

"... >:("

Mettablook Quotes:

“You’re a fan.. of me? That’s flattering, darling.. But I’m just a nobody..”

“Oh, my..”

“Oh, how I wish to be a star, but the dream seems so far.”

Papyrus Quotes:

“greetings, i'm a totally ordinary human being.” (When greeting you w/ Groucho Glasses)

"call me frank, and to be FRANK with you, i'm happy i saw another human today." (Still wearing groucho glasses)

"nah, i'm just pulling your leg bones." (After taking them off)

“hello, the name’s papyrus, but you can call me papyrus.”

"guess you should put more BACKBONE into it."

"i don't have the GUTS to stop smoking. heh heh."

“uh oh. i suppose you’re gonna have a rather unpleasant experience.”

“don’t worry, in the end, i still believe in you.”

“you really thought i’d just stand there and eat it up?

how naive.”

“human, don’t smoke. It’s bad for you. we skeletons have no lungs, so we do what we want, you know?”

“junior jumble is way harder than crossword, amirite?”

"you really think crossword's better, brother? un. believable."

“YOU’RE JUST SPINELESS.”

“YOU’RE DEAD MEAT.”

Sans Quotes:

“I’M SANS. THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!”

“SERIOUSLY, BRO? YOU’RE SMOKIN' AGAIN?”

"THAT STUFF'S BAD FOR YOUR LUNGS, QUIT IT!" “I’M PRETTY SANS-ATIONAL, EH?” *audible wink.*

“MWEH HEH HEH!!!"

"YOU REALLY WANNA BE MY FRIEND?"

"LISTEN, I HAVE A TON OF WORK TO DO TODAY. A SKELE-TON!"

"HEH, I GUESS YOU'RE LAZIER THAN I THOUGHT, BRO."

"PAPYRUS, YOU'VE BEEN UP ALL NIGHT. DON'T YOU THINK YOU NEED SOME REST?"

“I’LL STOP YA IN YOUR TRACKS, KID! I’M THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, AND I’LL CAPTURE YOU!”

“AND I SAID TO CAPTAIN ‘ALPH, YOU DON’T GOTTA BE SO ‘COLD BLOODED’!”

"HUMAN. TURN AROUND, AND FACE MAGNIFICENCE IN THE EYE SOCKETS!"

"i guess this is goodbye..."

"imma.. imma go home and take a nap i suppose."

Burgerpants Quotes:

“Hey there, little buddy! Care to try one of my burgers? I call ‘em smiley patties!”

“Be careful what you wish for, little buddy.”

"Once, I dreamed of becoming a famous actor.. But, I unfortunately aimed for something less ambitious, and got stuck here."

"I'm still staying hopeful though, never give up on your dreams! Stay positive!"

“Smoking? What do I look like, I run a burger shop for a stuck up robot? That's bad for your lungs, kid!"

Muffet Quotes:

“Papyrus, you gonna pay your tab soon?”

“Please, come again soon~!”

“I should introduce the both of you to my pet~”

"That's gonna be extra for the honey that you drink everyday, Papyrus!"

Asriel Headcanon:

Asriel is older than he is in Undertale.

Asriel Quotes:

“Howdy, Chara!”

“Don’t you think Alphys is so cool?”

“Let’s be friends!”

“Here, have this locket. A symbol of our friendship!”

Flowey Headcanon:

All of the Floweys are innocent and goofy, but speak normally. The Flowey replacing Bob would be named Rob, (to reference an Underswap co-host who went by "Coastrobbo") who speaks like Undertale Temmie. Each Flowey has a distinctive personality.

Flowey Quotes:

“Howdy! I’m Flowey!”

“Hoi!!11! im rob!!”

“Look, I have a sprout!! I’m such a proud parent!”

“DIE.” *insert struggling to wrap around Chara.* “Nevermind..”

Alphys Headcanon:

Alphys is often insecure about the way she looks at times, but she deals with it, it helps with intimidation. She still stutters due to having a speech impediment, not due to shyness or nervousness.

Alphys Quotes:

"Y-You'll have to try harder to beat me than t-that, human!"

"Oh my god, Mew Mew Kissy Cutie is on right now!!"

"O-Oh, that Dr. Undyne person? S-She's.. so cute!"

"Darn it! I'll keep you at bay with a ton of lightning strikes if I need to!"

"I-I'm always afraid of hurting people with my insane strength, or scaring them with the way I look..."

"I'm done hiding, I'm coming right for you, human!"

Regular / Ruins Dummy Headcanon:

Regular Dummy can speak, and fights you out of boredom rather than getting angry. They leave rather rude/snarky remarks towards Chara. Their attacks consist of boring things. (Idk, like dust particles, newspaper articles n' junk.)

Regular / Ruins Dummy Quotes:

"You really don't know how to keep a guy entertained, do ya?"

"You're boring me here, buddy.."

"I'm out, you're too boring."

"Wow, didn't see that attack coming, again."

"Are all humans this bland?"

Undyne Headcanon:

Less shy than Undertale Alphys, she more so just likes to keep to herself. She's nerdy and she likes to keep her things organized.

Undyne Quotes:

"Please, don't mess with any of my stuff, I worked hard to keep them organized."

"Hey, human! I'm Dr. Undyne, the Royal Scientist of TORIEL."

"Well my schedule is r-ruined now, hope you're happy..!"

"I installed a totally cool bomb-defuser thing on your phone, try it out!"

“Anyways, uh.. You want some soda?”

“Anime is amazing, I absolutely LOVE Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2! I love it for it’s more mature themes!"

"

Napstaton / Napstablook Quotes:

"WHY DON'T WE GIVE THE HUMAN A TRADITIONAL WELCOME, DUDES?"

"LET'S GET THIS STREAM ON THE TRACKS!"

"REALLY NOT FEELIN' UP TO IT RIGHT NOW. SORRY."

"YOU KNOW I'M AN IMPENETRABLE ROBOT, RIGHT? HERE, I'LL JUST PRETEND YOU BEAT ME..” **DIAL UP SOUND NOISES, ERROR SCREEN.**

"SOMETIMES I LIKE TO RELAX ON THE GROUND AND LISTEN TO SAD MUSIC WHILE FEELING LIKE GARBAGE. IT'S A FAMILY TRADITION, BUT I DON'T DO IT AS OFTEN NOWADAYS."

"GET ANY QUESTIONS WRONG ON MY SURVEY, AND YOU'LL BE.. uh, eradicated? uh.. HAHA, YES, UH, ERADICATED!"

"oh.................. you flipped my switch."

"I totally feel up to it now, dudes!"

"I'll punch you with these awesome arms!"

Grillby Headcanon:

Grillby can speak, but just chooses not to. He has a Heat's Flamesman who says whatever he might be thinking on his shoulder.

Grillby Quotes:

"..."

"..."

"..."

Heat's Flamesman: "The boss thinks you should buy his food, OR ELSE!"

"...You're in debt, human. You owe me your soul."

Nice Cream Guy Headcanon:

Nice Cream Guy hates his life. He works in NTT's radio station room and does the sound work. He doesn't necessarily hate Napstaton, he just finds him obnoxious at times. He has a lisp, and is made fun of the way he says ice cream, "Nice Cream"

Nice Cream Guy Quotes:

“What do you need now, Naps..?”

“OH!!! Someone came to see me?”

“I’m always made fun of for the way I say ‘Nice Cream’, I have this dumb lisp.”

"Want some advice? Don't be like me. I gave up trying to own my own Nice Cream shop long ago, now look where I am in life."

Catty & Bratty Quotes:

"We're like.. SO hyped to capture you and stuff."

"Hi, my name's Catty, and this is my rival, Bratty!"

"Hi, my name's Bratty, and this is my rival, Catty!"

Catty: "Really, will ya stop finishing all of my.."

Bratty: "SENTENCES?! I think not!"

RG01 & RG02 Headcanon:

RG01 & RG02 own the shop dump. They resemble typical video game nerds who review Video Games (e.g. Nostalgia Critic and AVGN), they're still a couple and bicker about their favorite games.

RG01 & RG02 Quotes:

RG01: “Dude, like, we both know that Deltatale is better than Underrune!

RG02: “Really, brah? You have no taste.”

Toriel Quotes:

"My child, would you perhaps like a piece of pie?"

* Toriel stands silent as if she doesn’t want to do this, but she must.

MK Quotes:

"Yo, dude! It's me. Your best friend!"

Frisk Headcanon:

Frisk does not speak. They communicate using sign language. Frisk will stand there silently, and randomly jump scare you before everything goes black.

Frisk Quotes:

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

RANDOM JUMPSCARE.

Riverperson Quotes:

"Tra la la.

I heard the old song from the sea.

It was chanting towards me.

It drowned me in… darkness.

As if I have reached the bottom of the ocean.

I yelled… and I yelled.

But no one heard me."

??? Quotes:

"✋︎ ✌︎💣︎ ✌︎☠︎ ⚐︎☼︎👎︎✋︎☠︎✌︎☼︎✡︎ 👍︎✋︎❄︎✋︎☪︎☜︎☠︎📪︎ 👌︎🕆︎❄︎ 🏱︎☜︎⚐︎🏱︎☹︎☜︎ 👍︎✌︎☹︎☹︎ 💣︎☜︎ ✌︎ 💣︎✌︎☝︎✋︎👍︎✋︎✌︎☠︎📬︎"

"❄︎☟︎☜︎ 👍︎⚐︎💣︎☜︎👎︎✋︎✌︎☠︎ ✌︎💧︎😐︎☜︎👎︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ 👍︎☼︎⚐︎🕈︎👎︎ ✋︎☞︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎✡︎ 🕈︎✌︎☠︎❄︎☜︎👎︎ ❄︎⚐︎ ☟︎☜︎✌︎☼︎ ✌︎ ☺︎⚐︎😐︎☜︎ ✌︎👌︎⚐︎🕆︎❄︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ 🏱︎☜︎☼︎✋︎⚐︎👎︎✋︎👍︎ ❄︎✌︎👌︎☹︎☜︎📬︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎✡︎ ☼︎☜︎🏱︎☹︎✋︎☜︎👎︎ ❻︎☠︎✌︎❼︎📬︎"

"👌︎☜︎🕈︎✌︎☼︎☜︎ ⚐︎☞︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ 💣︎✌︎☠︎ ✋︎☠︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ 👌︎⚐︎✌︎❄︎📬︎"

Annoying Dog (PopcornPr1nce) Quotes:

"Bork!"

Hatsune Miku Quotes:

"Why am I even here?"

"What's an Udderwasp?"

"I am nothing more than a simulation."

[nnschneider]

Tagged by @wurzelbertzwerg to share my WIP folder.

You've been warned.

Focusing on Jane Austen fanfic, I have

Note that I write for my own sake, and at the pleasure of my muse. I tend to pick something up and play with it for a bit then put it down, forget about it after a couple months, etc. And then think of it again, have to read thru what I've previously written, and maybe decide to add to it. Point being, I have a bunch of WIPs in various states of completion and in a few fandoms.

Bro (short for Brogency): Mr. and Mrs. Bennett decided to pass off their third (and final) child as a son. I'm like 24 chapters in and the main romance is better Ryan (aka Mary Bennett) and an OC.

12Days (short for the 12 Days of Christmas): Modern NA AU in which the Morland family has a rotating curse every Christmas (affecting one family member per year) related to the items in the annoying Xmas song.

C-Oz (short for Catherine In Oz): The night after Gen Tilney tells Catherine she needs to leave, there's a big storm at the abbey. Insert Wizard of Oz dream in which Catherine is trying to get home.

Baby 3 (short for And Baby Makes Three): Henry Tilney is a paleontologist and Catherine Morland gets a leopard. Bringing Up Baby for NA. I'm 14 chapters in and I think I'll be able to wrap it up in another chapter.

Beanstalk. Persuasion as Jack & the Beanstalk with Frederick as Jack and Anne as the harpist who gets the goose to lay golden eggs.

Extremes in Dating: A modern S&S AU in which Edward Ferrars just wants a quiet night alone and his girlfriend Lucy has other plans. (Related to Drynuary For Hookups and based on an abysmal date my brother told me about.)

Fox (short for The Mark of the Fox): A Zorro AU for S&S.

Gingerbread. S&S as Hansel & Gretel. Pairs nicely with Beanstalk.

GoodPlace (short for The Good NA-borhood): NA as the Good Place with Henry Tilney, John Thorpe, Mrs. Allen, and Isabella as dead people, Gen Tilney as the architect, and Catherine as the neighborhood's Janet.

L+A (short for Love and Agriculture): Greek-ish/Roman-y pantheistic version of Emma with Emma as the goddess of love.

Luna. A P&P covid allegory with werewolves instead of covid, centered on Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her circle of correspondence. (They don't really care if the mysterious illness is eviscerating poor people in Town so long as it doesn't threaten their country estates, etc). Probably too preachy for me to finish.

MBDE (short for Mr. Bennett Dies Early): Mr. Bennett sneaks to Netherfield to meet his new neighbor, has an accident on the way home, and dies. Mr. Collins shows up to inherit and decides to marry Jane who has fallen in love-at-first-sight with Bingley. Elizabeth tries to protect Jane from Collins' unwelcome regard. Darcy tries to protect Elizabeth from the same.

Anyway, I set myself a goal to get Brogency, Extremes in Dating, and And Baby Makes Three into peer review this year. So far (it's still January) I like my odds.

Mega Abbey 2. Sequel to Origin Story, a hero/villain AU for NA. Henry's dad shows up unexpectedly so Henry has to pretend he isn't dating Catherine to protect her from his supervillain father and Catherine wants to rescue Henry from his supervillain legacy. I'm about 8 chapters in, trying to figure a few plot points out.

Reindeer: I try to repurpose Christmas carols into JAFF poems and this is me slowly adapting "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" into "Lizzy the Leading Lady" about how Elizabeth Bennett is clearly superior to all other Austen heroines.

Sabrina. MP as Sabrina except Fanny won't end up with either Bertram brother.

[multicolour-ink]

Been thinking about the warp zone area and thought of something interesting. It looks massive and by all accounts- pretty difficult to navigate. Yet one would assume the ability to fast travel to other kingdoms within minutes would out weigh the negatives of taking a wrong turn; just hop back in the way you came and try again. Except from what we see, apart from the bros falling in by accident, no other living soul is using the warp zone. It's been largely abandoned. The NY pipe is rusty and forgotten. Same goes for the one in the MK; all overgrown and dilapidated. I believe the implication is Bowser has purposefully made the warp zone too dangerous to use by making the likelihood of landing in the Darklands very high. Not only is his area dark and ominous when compared to the other normal green pipe exits we see, but it's also massive. Perhaps he has gotten some of the magikoopas to enchant the area to be that way.

Imagine the zone to be the equivalent of a big ol' subway. It may be large and confusing but it's ultimately a way to quickly get from one location to another. Except now someone has rigged the tracks to where if your train car gets too close to a specific location, your train gets diverted into the pits of hell. Yeah, I too wouldn't use that method of transport if I was aware there'd be a chance of that happening. Citizens have stopped using it because it's just not safe anymore.

It's why folks like Toad are so certain that if you go into the big scary pipe, you're never coming back. He knew EXACTLY what Mario was describing.

For Bowser, I think this accomplishes two things:

1. You've effectively cut off easy communication to other lands, making it much more difficult to coordinate a defense. It's probably why Peach, Mario, and Toad need to travel to the Kong's Kingdom mostly on foot.

2. If anyone is unlucky enough to fall into the big scary pipe, you can have minions waiting on the other side to capture and bring them in for interrogation on the goings-on in the other kingdoms.

I have been trying to figure out how the warp pipes in this movie verse work...

For starters, why IS there a warp pipe just sitting at the very depths of a city sewer system on Earth? And why have no other humans (aside from the Bros) fallen into it?

Well, Peach did mention that "there's a whole universe out there"; What if, long ago, that universe was all interconnected, and many worlds could visit each other whenever they pleased?

Or (and this is the theory I'm sticking to), what if the warp pipes are organic matter, like plants that sprout and grow out over time? Like the roots of trees! But (much like tree roots) some warp pipes can spread out too far, and accidentally connect to other worlds. I imagine there are experts or scholars in the Mushroom World who keep track of all the warp pipes and where they go; if they find one has gone too far, then they simply "block it off", preventing any from using it.

If you notice, the pipe Mario falls out of is on a wall, and (unless you do a well timed jump from one of the giant mushrooms) there's no way to get back in there again.

The warp pipes branching off too far can also be at risk of creating "crossroads" (like we see in the warp zone scene). This could also be why some pipes are blocked off.

Bowser blocking the one to his kingdom makes sense as well. He's not going to use it (too big. And he has a flying fortress!), and it stops any unwanted guests from stumbling in.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Diamond in the Rough

The current season of anime is coming to an end and, while there were some brilliant gems this go-around, i think i have been the most disappointed by a show, ever, in my entire life and I'm going i turn forty this year. Just, so goddamn upset about not one, but TWO shows. Like, how did they turn out this f*cking terrible? It's mind boggling. However, there was one that reached Frieren level of excellent so i was able to lose myself in that top tier dopeness. So, before we move forward into what i hope is a brilliant adaption of Dandadan and several others, i want to look back in order to give credit where it's due.

The Classic

Kaiju no. 8

Coming off the heals of Madhouse's masterpiece, Sousou no Frieren, Production IG delivered unto us Kaiju no. 8. It matched the pure dazzle of Frieren in every way. The character work, the performances, the narrative, the sound design; All of it! Kaiju no. 8 is f*cking dope. It's as close to a perfect anime as you can get. The only issue i have is the fact i gotta wait a year before the next season drops. Lame.

The Great

Go! Go! Loser Ranger

I as looking forward to this one for some time and was not disappointed. I've been a fan of the manga for years so this one getting the adaption nod was a big deal for me. In an age of The Boys, this was perfect to catch that deconstruction wave. You can tell this one was given full attention by Yostar. It's weird to me that the Azur Lane company can deliver solid anime outside of their gacha properties but, if they keep delivering quality like this, i can get used to that diversification.

Mysterious Disappearances

I did not expect this one to be as good as it was. The manga is solid but the show kind of levels up the narrative on the page. There was a thought of thought put into how to present this show and i think that level of forethought paid of wonderfully. It's nuts to me there isn't more chatter out in the wild about this show. Like, no one i know is talking about it even though it's probably one of the best released so far this year.

The Good

Reincarnated as a Slime III

Listen, this was making the list based on the virtue of it being a continuation of Reincarnated as a Slime. I love this show. I've loved this show since it first dropped. Of course i was going to have a good time with this show. That said, the production has fallen off a cliff. It's nowhere near as gorgeous as it once was. That was disappointing, especially with what's on the horizon. Everything else has been solid. Everything you expect to be great from a Slime entry is there, which is why the dip in animation quality hurts so bad.

The Ugly

The New Gate

I watched three episodes of this and dropped it in the trash where it belongs. The animation is just so hideous. Sh*t is borderline unwatchable.

Chillin' in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers

This one broke my f*cking heart. If you've followed this blog for a while, you know Chillin' is one of my all-time favorite manga. Learning this thing was getting an adaption sent me through the roof! And then it came out. Bro, this sh*t is so f*cking ugly. The animation is full of errors, none of the fights have any weight, everything is just so floaty, and that frame rate is total ass. It's literally the other side of the spectrum from Kaiju no. 8 and i had SO much more anticipation for Chillin. Another manga i love, butchered to the extreme, for no reason other than lack of funds and absurd deadlines. Bro, just delay and put in the work until it's good!