#actually no i need to sleep sorry

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

hellooo mutuals and followers alike. lmk if you need a leeches tag cuz i might start posting about them more <3

[egophiliac]

Your first initial impressions of any Twst character vs your current feelings about them?

honestly, my perception of pretty much every character went through some metamorphosis of "this guy looks like a jerk" to "oh, he's a stupid jerk? now hold on." it's all about that balancing act between a dark brooding asshole and a dark brooding asshole who is also totally ridiculous, and it really does make ALL the difference.

perhaps most ironically, I've mentioned before that I was absolutely not into the Diasomnias at first, because the impression the website gave pre-release was somehow even less favorable than for everyone else and I was mad at Lilia for getting my hopes up for a token girl). and then we got their stories and, well, I kind of just haven't stopped thinking about them since. 🤷

also, I went in thinking that Crowley was going to be. y'know. competent at his job. a helpful guide. a mysterious yet caring mentor figure, a fitting leader for this band of delicate young magic waifs with their fancy little magic outfits and their perfect, perfect hair. I've never been so glad to be wrong.

[collophora]

@devinsisland apocalypse AUs, but it's just chill gardening between two raids outside to scavenge seeds

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

[kays-artstuff]

@kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 's au has me brainrotting

CUTEGUY GRIAN RAHH!!! HIS DESIGN IS JUST SO??? INCREDIBLE??

[heartorbit]

i'm sending this endless melody to a nameless you

[theythemmer]

phinktober day 11: ur fav AU

i dont rlly do AUs so i just drew them how i wish they would dress xo

(dan’s tats r carnations and snowdrops and phil’s r roses and honeysuckle. for no reason 🤗)

ALSO bonus version w makeup bc i couldn’t pick <3

[ouaw-facts-i-just-made-up]

Gideon has a whole protocol for when it gets too cold for Kremy. It's just how his brain works. He solved the issue like it was some machine acting up rather than his friend having a natural reaction to the cold.

First and foremost; GET WARM FAST. Whatever the quickest way to get Kremy warm is, that is the first step. Usually this involves wrapping a blanket around both of them so that Gideon can use his own heat to help him.

Secondly; consider how close the next town is. Is it less than an hour and there's no active snow storm? Great, hot foot it to the inn. Are they actively being snowed on and the next town is half a days walk? Find best cover and set up tents, his own fire could only do so much, and it's not worth the risk at that point just to get inside a building.

Thirdly; once in a relatively dry and protected space, remove any wet clothing and replace with comfy, dry jammies. If no wet clothing, removal beyond jacket and hat is unnecessary. Simply place sleepwear near the bed if Kremy wants to change later.

Fourth; alligators are evidently still able to drink during brumation. Grab waterskin and warm it a little. This will help with internal temperatures. AVOID ALCOHOL.

If all is well, simply prepare for bed. Grab a snack to assure internal fire keeps going all night. Ideal sleeping situation has Kremy on top of Gideon to avoid cold floors if they are in a tent, otherwise just having his arms around him in any other position.

There's only been one time when any other steps were needed. Thankfully they had the rest of the Krew by that point, so Gricko was able to assist, but Gideon really hopes he'll never have to do CPR again.

[typing-catastrophe]

I have been so cooked for this man lately that I need to talk about him— I genuinely think that with a ADHD/autism/AuDHD partner Ford takes notes on your stims and quirks, even before any serious relationship. Just little things like “waves hands when excited :)” and “prefers baggy sweaters” just like a little way of understanding you better 🥺💖

yesss definitely! as an AuDHDer who stims a lot myself, this is everything!! jfskhfshsk

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

"Aaaahhhhh oh myy-" the rest of what you were saying was incomprehensible because the words slurred together in an excited squeal. A gleeful expression upon your face, you waved and shook your hands in front of your body, then pressed them over your mouth, to stifle another squeal.

Ford smiled to himself as he watched you from the other side of the room, where he propped his notebook open to scribble something down.

"Heeyyyyy Grunkle Ford, watcha got there?" Mabel's voice rang out right beside him.

He snapped the book shut and whipped his head around.

"Mabel!"

"Waves hands when excited." she cited what she had just read, "Were you talking about-"

"No, I was certainly not!" Ford said, while his cheeks started to turn a deep red colour.

"Are you suuuure? Because to me it looks like you diiiid." she said, a cheeky grin on her face and dragging some of the vowels.

"You are mistaken, dear child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." he excused himself and stood up, holding the notebook close to him.

Without letting her get another word in, he moved past her and made his way into his study.

There, he propped open the notebook to the page he'd just added a new note onto.

- likes to hum when no one is around - seems to prefer more loose fitting clothes. possibly because the don't restrict movement as much - will subconsciously play and fidget with any jewellery they're wearing - sorts and eats their food in a particular order - would rather not eat at all than something not appealing - skin irritating clothing causes great discomfort. remove tags!! - wants to talk but holds back. encouraging them has positive effect - avoids eye contact but will look at faces when the person isn't looking at them - do not touch without warning and do not force contact! expressed great discomfort to me after being forced to physical contact by someone else - repeating phrases and noises (quite endearing) - easily startled by sudden and loud noises, as well as irritated by high pitched ones, almost too quiet to hear - shows behaviours similar to felines. has stated that they would be delighted to posses the ability to purr (he would be delighted too)

Ford smiled as he looked up and leaned back. He really hoped Mabel hadn't seen too much, otherwise she might figure out how interested in you he really was. And we wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

For now he would be very much content continuing to dreamily gaze over at you and notice all the little things, so he could understand you better.

Maybe one day he could work up the courage to ask you out.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

[napping-sapphic]

PLEASE tell me about all your problems so i have an excuse to try to kiss it all better for like six hours minimum

[abirddogmoment]

sometimes i hang out with a herding breed dog and it really makes me go damn girl you live like this?? ://

[xxplastic-cubexx]

it doesnt need to be said but its genuinely so funny how at-the-hip charles and erik are in krakoa like they really had the green light- the OBLIGATION- to be as obnoxiously close to each other as possible and abused that right to the fullest extent

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[starrysharks]

he gets kranky in the mornings if you know what i mean

[walkingstackofbooks]

After "meeting" Lisa Cusak, Julian finds he wants to get something off his chest that's been weighing him down for the longest of times. Unfortunately for Miles, it's two in the morning.

Hurt/comfort. CW: suicidal ideation.

--

They'd both been lying in silence for nearly an hour, but just as Miles was finally beginning to drop off to sleep, Julian's voice drifted up from the bottom bunk.

"Chief?"

Miles didn't bother to stifle his groan. "Yeah?"

"Do you—Do you ever think about dying?"

The unexpectedness of the question gave Miles pause, but after a second he scoffed, shaking his head. He was too tired for this.

"Go to sleep, Julian."

"But do you?

"'Course I do. We're in the middle of a bloody war."

Julian fell silent for a few seconds. Then Miles heard the sound of covers being pulled back and found himself looking into the anxious face of Julian Bashir.

"That's not quite—I meant, like... do you ever still have Agrathi thoughts about dying?" Julian asked quietly, eyes searching Miles' face, before darting down towards his feet.

"Bloody hell," grumbled Miles, sitting up and banging his head on the ceiling for his troubles. "It's two in the morning, Julian. What's brought this on?"

It was a stupid question, really. He knew the answer before the words had even left his mouth.

"I just... can't stop thinking about Captain Cusak, I guess," Julian says. "And some of the things she said. About talking to people, you know?"

"And you think I need to talk about this."

Julian shrugged. "I don't know. Do you?"

Taking a deep breath, Miles gave Julian the most reassuring smile he could muster - which was probably still more of a grimace - and shook his head. "I promise you, if I got that way again, I'd tell you, or Keiko: and she'd make me tell you. Go back to bed and stop worrying. I'm fine."

In all honesty, it was nice that Julian cared enough to ask - but it would be even nicer if it weren't in the middle of the freaking night, and so with that, Miles pulled up his blankets, rolled over, demonstrating to Julian what going to bed looked like. To his credit, Julian took the hint, and Miles soon heard the sounds of crumpling sheets and mattress creaks.

Peace returned, but that was far from enough to lull Miles back into even a comfortable doze. While he'd been quite honest in answering Julian's question, he couldn't help feeling like he'd missed something. The longer he lay there, the more uncomfortable he got with the silence below him.

By the time he'd figured out what it was, he was almost certain Julian must have fallen asleep - but that was no real deterrent.

"Do you?" he asked, into the darkness. The response came almost immediately.

"What?"

"Do you, you know... ever get those thoughts?"

"A bit." He could hear the hesitation in Julian's voice. "A lot, actually. Sometimes."

Miles' heart dropped. "For how long?"

"How long's a piece of string?"

"What's that meant to mean?"

When Julian didn't respond, Miles sat up again, intending to peer over the side of the bunk at his friend.

"What's that meant to mean?" he repeated, and - realising he was not nearly flexible enough to peer over the edge - swung his legs over the side of the bed and climbed down.

Julian was moving again, shuffling across, clearly making room for Miles to sit next to him. "Sorry, Chief," he said. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just... I was just thinking about it, that's all. Not—not that - about telling you, I mean."

"You're avoiding the question," Miles said gruffly, and Julian looked away.

"It means—It means I can't remember. Feelings... they're more difficult to pinpoint than events. I just don't know, Miles."

Miles frowned. "Not even an estimate? A few months? A year? Two?"

A bitter laugh escaped Julian, one that Miles really didn't like. "Try twenty," he replied, the number slipping off the tip of his tongue like it was nothing.

Twenty years was not nothing. Twenty years was a lifetime in an Argrathi prison. For Julian, twenty years was a lifetime. Period.

"Since you were a teenager?"

Julian shrugged. "Thereabouts."

Miles looked at him, really looked, at the well-worn lines creasing his friend's face, the ones he'd thought had only appeared with the onset of war. At his dark, sad eyes that Miles could remember being full of youth and hope and light. How could he reconcile that Julian with a teenager who—

Oh.

"The enhancements?"

His voice was quiet, as though that would make this conversation any easier on Julian.

"They didn't help."

"You... you didn't ever—"

"Do you really want to know?" Julian interrupted, his eyes hard and tired and wet with unspent tears. Miles was tired too; his heart was sore and his friend was far too complicated.

"Why start this if you don't want to tell me anything?" he asked.

"I have told you something!" Julian replied incredulously. "I'm just - I didn't expect you to make a whole conversation out of it!"

"Hah, as though you never made me talk after Argra—"

"That was different," Julian argued. "I was there, I saw you— I stopped you. This was years ago."

"So you did..."

Julian let out a long exhale, a sure sign that Miles had won the argument. If you could call it winning.

"Yeah," he said eventually. "Not immediately, but yes. With everything else that had been bubbling up over the years, when I found out what my parents had done..."

"Everything else?" Miles had thought that his voice couldn't get any softer, that his heart couldn't break any further. He'd been wrong.

Julian gave snort and a shake of his head. "We're not going there."

"Right."

Miles didn't know what else to say. What was there to say to that? A completely new history of Julian Bashir had been uncovered, one that Miles should surely have been able to discover before: if only he'd thought more deeply, asked more questions, been less afraid to entangle himself in awful, messy, emotional conversations like this...

"God, you were only fifteen—"

"Sixteen," Julian corrected, "by the time I actually tried—"

"Great. Sixteen," Miles repeated with a mirthless chuckle. "Because that makes it so much better."

Julian snorted, his face contorting into some strange sort of half-grin, and then he was laughing, and then he was crying, and Miles was holding him close, rocking him and soothing him and pretending not to be quietly terrified.

When Julian finally sat up, wiping his face roughly with his sleeve, they both looked away from each other, as though a lack of eye contact was enough to pretend that no emotional outburst had just happened.

"Seems to me," Miles said, standing up, "that you owe me a promise."

"Probably," yawned Julian, laying back down. Miles wasn't sure why he was bothering. Neither of them were going to get any sleep now.

But he guessed they had to try. "So do you?" he asked, as he clambered back into his own bed.

"I promise," came the quiet response. "I'll tell you, or Jadzia, or the captain, if—if... You know."

"Yeah. I know."

The room was silent once more, but only for a few minutes.

"Miles?"

Miles hated the way his heart started to jackhammer as soon as he heard Julian.

"Mmm?"

"Captain Cusak was right, wasn't she. It is good to talk."

"I'm not sure she meant we should substitute it for sleeping."

"I'm glad we did, though. I feel better now. Lighter."

I don't, thought Miles, but he couldn't say that. Julian's confession was a burden he'd gladly carry if it gave his friend even an ounce of peace.

"That's good," he said instead.

"I'd do the same for you, you know. Listen, I mean. If you want to—"

"I know."

"I know you don't like talking but—"

"Julian," Miles groaned. "I love you, but there's a time and a place and we both need to get some bloody sleep before it becomes morning again."

For a minute, Miles thought it had worked.

"Miles?"

Maybe if he stayed quiet, Julian would think he'd fallen asleep.

"Chief?"

Although, knowing Julian, he could probably tell if he was faking from hearing his ruddy heartbeat or something.

"Miles," Julian hissed. "What did that mean, 'you love me'?"

Well that settled it. Heartbeat or no, Julian would definitely not be getting any more responses from him.

"Miles?"

The bunk shook slightly, but thankfully it seemed Julian wasn't getting out again, only turning over and settling down. Miles dared to start counting sheep again.

"Don't worry, Chief," came the quietest of whispers. "I know you meant it."

[hikarry]

Spencer, dear, I'm so sorry, but "I Will Survive" is not a Crowley song. Seriously? Disappointed

Bro-

Do I-

*waves frenetically towards the picture below*

Portraying Crowley as this suave, cool and mysterious guy that breathes rock is such a surface level analysis of this dork. That's what HE wants you to think of him. Gorgeous redhead fellaw with slinky hips and rockstar style, yes, BUT

He had his silly goose phase and his silly goose phase was Disco Tony and everyone in my household is going to respect Disco Tony

Look me in my bloody eyes and tell me this lil queer fella and his buddy Freddie Fucking Mercury didn't go down to the Golden Lion back in old Soho and drink their weights in beer as "I Will Survive" played and they kissed some guys here and there?

("Why the Golden Lion again, sweetheart? Why not that Harpoon Louis place everyone is talking about back in Earls Court Road?"

"Ngk, no reason. Absolutely not because I'm very desperately trying to bump into this very very annoying guy whom's I've only seen from a far since we last talked in the 60's after he gave me something we had had a fight over some years before and now we are kinda weird with each other and I dunnot know what he expects of me, but, fucking Heaven's, why does the bloody angel have to be so bloody complicated anyway? You should have seen the way he looked at me. The bloody idiot sitting in my Bentley saying I "go too fast". Go too fast?! What does that even mean?!"

"Ah. Right. Bookshop darling."

"Ngk. No. More like. Pain in my arse. The idiot. The way he looked at me made me feel like...agh....like I was falling apart. Is it really so hard for him to stop being a posh little shite and talk to me straight? Stop- Don't look at me like that. Pull that bloody eyebrow back down, you noisance. You know exactly what I mean. I just...ngk, it feels so lonely sometimes and-"

"Lonely, you say, darling?"

"Don't. Don't you even, Mr. Big Shot Rock Star. Azi-...The angel and I go back a long long time. I'm just used to have him around, that's all, but he's so...so..."

"Extremely queer and quite dishy? I don't see the problem here, really, Tony dear. Just walk up to the bloke and grab his arse. Worked for me and Jim just fine."

"You got bloody lucky, is what you got. Absolutely high out of your own arse, you bastard. I don't do that."

"Oh, but you do-"

"Ngk. No. Not to him...Bloody Heavens, stop-"

"I didn't say anything."

"I can feel you judging all the way from here, Melina."

"My sincere apologies if my sunglasses cannot hide how much I think you're a bloody cream puff, Anthonia Jennifer Crowley. The man is unmistakably almost as bent as the two of us combined. How much do you want to bet with me, right here, right now, that man is dying to have you turn him into an artiste until he is absolutely knackered?"

"Satan, you're fucking impossible sometimes...It's not that bloody simple, alright? Just. There's so much left unspoken between us still and-"

"God, that's a load of tosh, Anthony. You're arse over tits in love with the bloke and instead of getting a move on and a possibly great shag..."

"...Fred...?"

"Hold up one second, darling. Let me just-"

"Fred-What the-Fred-What-Is that-Where the fuck did you take that notebook from? We are on out way to the pub! What-! Stop bloody writing-!"

BAAM Freddie Mercury writes "One Year Of Love" on his way to the Golden Lion in Soho in the company of his mate Anthony J. Crowley, once again sucking on the man's pinning for the mysterious bookshop bloke he has the hots for.)

Anyway- (Adhd brain. It's 5 am on a saturday. What do you want from me?)

I rest my case

Snake boy absolutely asks Alexa to play that song when he is alone in his flat and he wants to feel a lil nostalgic and let loose