#but i'm feeling myself slowly get better at using watercolors

[saltmalkin]

cat spirit

[dennydraws]

Happy October! Autumn is here! \o/

Which isn't super happy to me, Romancing SaGaRS announced EoS and I've been playing for about 4 years, 3 and something ;u; I'm so very heartbroken as a SaGa fan this was my source of delicious lore.

As a last hurrah I will probably clear the 2 pending super difficulty fights now that they gave access to all styles and just going to take screenshots of my favorite pixel people. While I kept referring to myself as casual player (and my RS friends bonk me on the head - no, Denny you are not!) I did always clear the hard content on release - safe for the last couple of months when the powercreep became too much for me too.

I have such fond memories of clearing World Tower... :') it was a big event at the time and it required so many characters and I got to use some I never thought I'd use before.

I remember clearing Spiral Tower every time new floor got released except the more recent ones. I always pulled for my faves and occasionally for the recommended. I got so many new SaGa characters as favorites and I will treasure the moments and the memeires I posted on Reddit. Best treasure was the friends I made on the way really! :D I do hope we'll get a new SaGa gatcha game some day and Global isn't shafted :D;;; but... all things come to an end. This was my first and only gatcha game and I don't plan on playing anything on my phone. I only played RS because I'm a SaGa fan.

But Romacing SaGa 2 Remake is coming out at the end of the month!! I've slapped preorder as soon as it was available so that's something I'm looking forward to!! RS2 has my favorite lore so I'm super looking forward to it :> I was thinking to do some countdown illustrations... but I don't think I'll have the spoons for that.

Especially because... FanFyria comic books have arrived!! \o/ (sorry for potato phone quality, the books are not potato quality haha)

I'll be making a better/proper post about it soon to grab info on whoever is interested in purchasing a copy! :> I look forward to the watercolor pieces that I'll be adding as bonus! They're always so much fun to do. The idea of my friends having a little something from me sparks joy!

And until then... I'm slowly but surely Dawning the Trail... :D;;; Oh gosh, this expac hasn't been clicking with me but I'm also at level 94 quests so maybe it will over time. I have nothing to vent or rant or anything really, it just haven't been clicking with me :D;;;; which I think is okay, we all have different vibes! I do hope I finish DT before RS2R though. I appreciate that mama Hydaelyn taught us well though!

Other than that? I've been feeling in a bit of a writing mood, funny enough :D;; and I've been sketching a lot of fluffy arts lately so more may pop on the dash from me... maybe!

Whew! Long post xD Thank you for stopping by and reading this far! I hope you have great rest of the day, dear web traveler!

[crymeariveronceagain]

23 and 25 my friend

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

Ohhhh gosh. Okay, well. I usually write in my dorm room, sitting on my bed. The curtains are usually open, because while my roommate will leave them shut constantly, I need sunlight to function as a human being. So the curtains are pulled back, and the light is streaming in. Outside the window, there are a dusting of trees and hills that I've never climbed, primarily because it seems like a long walk, and I've just never worked up the courage and resilience. The school president's house is over there, somewhere, hidden behind a grove of trees. I went there once, and it was one of the coolest houses I've ever seen. He also was holding a party. That may have been part of the reason that it was so cool.

Anyways, in my dorm room, I have a ton of posters on the walls, and a tiny calendar. Almost all the posters are of impressionist paintings. They make me a little sad to look at, because I've never seen any of the real paintings. I'm surrounded by cheap reproductions of art that no man could ever buy, anymore. There's a watercolor painting on the back of my heavy wooden door. I did it myself, at a painting night. It's a post-apocalyptic picture of a sunset, with the wreck of a city in a valley, and nature slowly reclaiming what belongs to it. From the ruin, a tiny wisp of smoke floats up, and that's the only way you know that someone survived the horrors that came before. Then again, this was all painted by me, and I, my friends, am not a very good artist.

There are stacks of books on the desk next to my bed. I rarely sit there. It operates like a large shelf, coated in stacks of books and paper and art supplies, filled with pencils and notebooks and my first aid kid and stickers. It's a cute set up, for sure, and I would sit there much more often, if it weren't for a few things. The chair is the wrong height and the desk is an even worse height, so when you sit on the chair at the desk, your legs are stuck, slightly smashed, in between the desk and the chair. It's dreadfully annoying, so I sit on my bed.

My bed is covered in blankets, one from each of my grandmothers, and an ombre blue comforter. It's got pillows and my stuffed animals, who I always feel slightly self conscious about having, except in my head I know that every female college student has at least one stuffed animal, they just be better or worse at hiding them. I situate myself directly in the middle of my bed, and I will say, it's a very comfy place to be. I've got a lap desk my brother gave me for my birthday a while back, and it's cracked and chipped and beat up, covered in pencil dust and nail polish drippings, but I love it and love using it. I'll use it fairly often, if I remember, because it's a lot more comfortable for my back and head and posture. It also says "You're doing amazing!" at the top. I think it was made for a little kid. I don't care.

I've got a light on the edge of my desk, and once the sun starts to set, I have to turn it on. My roommate and I don't talk at all, for no reason except that we never tried, so she'll come in and out of the room. Her side of our room is cluttered. There's chaos everywhere on her side, overflowing bags of food and paper and stacks of books slowly cascading to meet their untimely end at the floor. Mine is mostly put together, except for the sloping stacks of books. Usually I put in earbuds and listen to music while I work, and some days I try to multitask and get two birds out of the way with one stone and listen to a podcast or youtube video at the same time as I write(not a good choice, either the writing will be garbage or I won't get anything out of the video).

The night wears on, and if I'm lucky I'll type out enough of a story to satisfy me. Around eleven, I'll feel my brain start to click off, and wind up watching something on Youtube for real, this time. I'll snap my laptop shut a little bit later than I wanted, originally, and then go get ready for bed, my head filled with a sort of static that usually only happens once you run out of words to say. If I take a shower, I'll have a mental breakthrough and probably write for another twenty minutes after i get out, simply because I know if I don't write down my idea, it will be lost to the sands of time.

Anyways. Yeah. that's what it looks like where I write my stories. :D

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

For a given fanfic character, probably that the Dizznees have a TV. It's irrelevant and I never use that scrap of information, primarily because I fantasize about living in a world without screens to haunt all of our interactions and free time. I don't want people to watch TV mindlessly. I want them to sit around a fire and enjoy each other's company. It's my fanfic writing, I'll do what I want.

For an original character.... uhm. Amy and Tessa met in third grade, after Tessa switched from private school to public school. *shrugs* It means nothing to you, and it's also completely irrelevant to the story about them. It's so focused on their current happening that the past happenings don't matter. Y'all don't even know what story they're from lol. I should post that sometime.

Thanks for the asks! From this ask game.

[adam-brooks]

*TW, this has dipictions of self harm. It was written when I was 18. I'm no longer suicidal or self harming. Take care of yourself first and dont read if this will trigger you.

There is a hallway that is the visual depiction of my brain. This hallway is lit by a single hanging lightbulb and the shadows stretch and twist and seem to reach as I walk down it. On each side of the hallway is a row of doors. Blue metal doors, for some reason. they are rusty and the blue mingles with the browns and reds. It reminds me of Silent Hill and of course it does. Behind each door is a version of me. Angry Adam, Depressed Adam, Anxious Adam, Kid Adam, and on and on it goes. And one room...one room at the very end of the hall, shut tight with a series of locks and bolts, that room holds my inner things. The things I cant share. Some of those things are, naturally, awful. Traumas and pain. Some things are good. Excitement and joy. But they are locked in there because I was taught not to express those things. Those things made me loud and hyper and those things were bad. But to me they were good and I hate having my good parts trapped in a room with my bad parts. 

I walk down the damp hall slowly, brushing my fingertips over the doors and the walls as I walk. My hands collecting a dripping moisture as I go. 

I reach a door on the left and I stop because its ajar. I'm sure I closed it behind me last time I was here...I push on it gently and it squeaks open. 

Fuck... Its depression.

Hes sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor surrounded by pages and pages of my writings and drawings, spread into a wide circle around him, this blaze of white paper against the dark brown of the ruined wooden floor. He has a knife in his right hand and his left arm is covered in cuts. Blood dripping onto the paper on the floor, making a twisted watercolor effect on all of it.

"Hey....buddy..." I start hesitantly. "Whatcha doin there?"

His head turns toward me slightly. "Just trying to feel something..."

I nod and step cautiously over to him, finding my footing between the pages, and kneel down in front of him, looking him over. He is crying. As always. Dark circles around his eyes. As always. His arms hung over his legs, the knife hanging loosely from his fingers. Blood steadily dripping from the other. 

"You know you cant leave your door open. We have to make sure everyone stays where they are supposed to." I say.

He shakes his head and lets out a sob. "Why dont you just let me end it? Please! I cant stand this anymore.."

"Because I'm not ready...I still have things I have to do first." I start moving the papers away from him and putting them in a pile.

His grip tightens on the knife. 

"This is so fucked up. What are you waiting for? Nothing will get better. Its getting worse! It always gets worse.." He sniffed and wiped his nose with his wrist. 

I nod and absently stare at a page I havent seen in a long time. Her. With three splashes of blood across her face from Depressions morbid project. 

"I know." Its all I can say because I know he is right.

"What are you waiting for? Love? School? A family?? Those things wont happen for us. We are too far gone. I heard you talking about art classes? So that makes you an artist now?" He lets out a pained noise and slices his arm again.

This is pretty bad. Writing in a journal, giving my emotions personalities to justify the shit in my head. Slicing myself open to stop the thoughts. My dad refusing to trust anything I say or do anymore and I am right back to not being good enough for him. Its highschool all over again and I know why I always got high. So I wouldnt go crazy and kill myself. But what now? Now that im sober and I have to stay sober and nothing and no one is helping me? I feel my reality slipping through my fingers and I cant grab a hold of it some days. My mind is unraveling and my emotions are spiralling and I dont know whether to laugh or slit my wrists. I imagine ill be doing both. When the time comes. I'm more and more lost as the days go by.

Get. A. Fucking. Grip! Either fucking get it done or stop being a fucking pathetic loser!

[winchester-reload]

How long did it take you to finish the watercolor of Cas? I have a watercolor commission that I have to finish and it's been awhile since i've painted with watercolor. I'm really nervous about this painting and I don't have that much experience with using watercolors that come in a tube. Do you have tips on starting a watercolor that includes a background?

I’m not sure if I’ll make you feel better by answering this question. That Cas watercolor took me a very long time to complete…  Thing is, I was hella gun-shy coming back to watercolors after over a year without touching them, so I totally feel your pain here. Just work slowly and carefully, but try to stop dreading it. The way I got past it was I had a copy of the lineart (well, the original lineart) and I just told myself everytime I sat for another session that if I totally screwed it up, I could transfer that onto a new piece and start over.

You can always start over. It sucks, but it’s an option. 

Generally, with tubed colors, I squeeze them out onto a palette (you can see a corner of it in that Cas painting link). They dry over a couple of days and then you can basically use them like you would pre-paletted watercolor paints. But, you can also use them while they’re still wet, just be cautious of how much paint you’re getting on your brush. A little goes a long way, and just a dot of wet watercolor is POTENT. Always do spot tests onto scrap watercolor paper before you try a new color to see how dark it’s gonna come out.

For backgrounds, I don’t think it necessarily matters if you do it first, during, or last. It’s gonna depend on what your aim is. If you want to do a color wash, you’ll have to do that first. If you want to do something a little more abstract, you can do it during the figure painting process, just make sure your figure is dry before you start spreading background colors to prevent bleed. And likewise, make sure your background is dry before you start in on your figure again.  

But my biggest tip is to just sit down and start painting. And don’t freak out if the painting hits its ugly phase. I mean, that Cas painting looked like this for a bit before he started to come together:

And he worked out okay

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Hi...i'm kind of sad right now...Just read a fanfic where Richie cheats on Eddie with Stan. Can you believe that? My heart is breaking, I need some fluff to put the pieces back together. Help me please!!! Even If you can't write anything right now, just tell me the reasons why you love this ship and why Richie and Eddie belong together and would never hurt eachother

Honeyyyyyy! I’m going to tell you what I told my Tumblr soulmate just yesterday who did the same thing, we scroll past cheating reddie and reddie that somehow turns into another ship because it only brings us pain!! Not that other ships aren’t wonderful but come on y’all, don’t do that to yourselves.

And I’m cranking this out for you and @sammy8675309 as reddie nourishment with a little Stanlon because I feel like it.

Also on Archive of Our Own

Snippet:“Eddie, you seriously need to sit down and chill or I am going to stuff this ornament up your ass.” Beverly huffed out.

“It’s ok, Bev. He’s just being Eddie.” Ben said carefully taking the icicle ornament away from her.

“Sorry! I just want it to be perfect.” Eddie said quickly. He went over to the table and grabbed a candy cane offering for Beverly. She took it without malice, mostly because she loves candy almost as much as Richie.

“He’s going to love it, Eddie.” Bill said reassuringly.

“I fucking hope so.” Eddie breathed out slowly.

A Christmas Tradition

Eddie was freaking out. Well, Eddie was always freaking out but right now he was REALLY FREAKING OUT!

Christmas was two days away and he had zero gifts for Richie. He managed to get something special for all the other losers: Bill was getting a watercolor set; he got Beverly a charm that said “Loser Club President” to go on her necklace; Stanley would receive an engraved leather bound journal; he got a recipe book for Mike; and Ben would get a sweater Eddie made.

He could not think of a single thing to get Richie. Usually, he was the easiest to buy gifts for but since they started dating, Eddie wanted to give him the absolute best gift ever. He loved him so much it hurt. Should be easy, right? WRONG.

“What can I get him in two days?!” Eddie yelled at Bill. He had begged his friend to come over and help figure something out.

“You could get Richie anything and he would love it because it came from you,” Bill responded. “Eddie…s-s-stop pacing! You’re giving ME anxiety.”

“Listen, Bill, my undiagnosed anxiety is nothing to scoff at. I get this pain in my chest, then my body feels like it is on fire, then I start shaking and cannot breathe and OH GOD I AM HAVING AN ACUTE PANIC ATTACK RIGHT NOW!”

“B-B-BREATHE!” Bill managed to get out before going over to his friend to rub his back soothingly.

“You’ll think of something to get him! Actually, you should make him something. Things you m-m-make fuh-for him are so much better than the stuff you buy.” Bill suggested.

Eddie looked at the ground guiltily, “I bought your gift…I hope that’s cool.”

“People should only buy things for me, I’m rarely sentimental about anything. Well, except any of my brother’s stuff…” Bill trailed off awkwardly.

Eddie looked at his friend cautiously and gave him a hug. Sometimes Bill would start crying if people hugged him and Eddie did not want to make him too upset right now.

“The holidays are really hard,” Bill said softly. “I miss him the most then.”

“I know Big Bill,” Eddie said quietly. “I…oh my god, I know what to do for Richie!”

Bill pulled out of the embrace, “What?!”

“Sorry to be insensitive,” Bill waved him off like he preferred they not dwell on him. “Richie always talks about how our Loser traditions are super important to him because his family never has any. So since we are dating, I should start a tradition just the two of us that we can do during the holidays!”

Bill smiled widely, “That sounds great! Do you need any help?”

“I may need everyone’s help!” Eddie said excitedly.

They all gathered at Eddie’s place to help set up and Eddie’s neurotic side was coming in full.

“NO! Beverly! Put that over in the right corner!”

“Ben! It is lopsided!”

“Please add more salt to this, Mike. NO NO! Too much salt!”

“Stanley, you literally are doing everything wrong. Look at how Bill is doing it.”

Stanley had finally had enough. Eddie could yell all he wanted, but insulting him by saying he was doing something wrong had crossed a line.

Stanley threw down the project he was working on, “I don’t know how Trashmouth fucking handles your neurotic tendencies. I would develop 10 new compulsions if I was dating you for one day.”

“Yeah, but you would have 100 more if you dated Richie.” Mike chimed in. They all laughed.

“Just the thought of it makes me nauseous. Thank god for you.” Stanley kissed Mike on the cheek. Mike winked at him and went back to cooking furiously.

“Yeah yeah, I have issues. Stanley has issues. WE ALL HAVE ISSUES! Keep working little elves!” Eddie demanded.

“Eddie, you seriously need to sit down and chill or I am going to stuff this ornament up your ass.” Beverly huffed out.

“It’s ok, Bev. He’s just being Eddie.” Ben said carefully taking the icicle ornament away from her.

“Sorry! I just want it to be perfect.” Eddie said quickly. He went over to the table and grabbed a candy cane offering for Beverly. She took it without malice, mostly because she loves candy almost as much as Richie.

“He’s going to love it, Eddie.” Bill said reassuringly.

“I fucking hope so.” Eddie breathed out slowly.

*

Later that night, Richie came knocking on Eddie’s door. Before he could even lift his hand to the doorbell, the door swung open. “Merry Christmas, Richie!”

Richie grinned his beautiful side smile, “Have we become a couple that can sense each other’s presence?”

“Listen, I’ve been waiting by my window for you the past hour because I have been so nervous about tonight.” Eddie admitted immediately. Sometimes he wished his bluntness would stay inside his head.

Richie threw down the gift he was holding and grabbed Eddie’s face to kiss him. He broke away and he said, “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever been told.”

“Shut up, I’m not cute.” Eddie responded but he got Richie into the house and closed the door. He pulled Richie hard against him and his body pressed Richie’s against the door. Most of their friends assumed Eddie was more conservative because he barely did PDA, whereas Richie never kept his hands or eyes off Eddie in public. To the point where Mike would say, “Stop undressing Eddie with your eyes in public. He is a wee lad.”

Even though the other boy towered over him in almost an intimidating way, it was Eddie who enjoyed being bold when they were alone. He deepened their kiss eliciting a smile from Richie.

Richie’s palms slid around his waist and under his sweater. Eddie put his hands in Richie’s hair and ran his fingers through it. There was always something extremely electric when they were together that muted everything around them.

Eddie pulled out of the kiss and laughed as Richie immediately went to his neck like a leech. “Richie! The food is going to get cold.”

“I don’t care.” Richie murmured sucking at his collarbone. His hands drifted lower to settle on Eddie’s behind. Eddie melted into him feeling warm all over.

“Rich, please, we gotta stop.” Eddie pulled his neck away gingerly. Richie looked at him then his eyes flickered over his head.

“Holy shit!” Richie let go of Eddie to run over to the coffee table. There were candy canes everywhere and supplies to make a gingerbread house. Different colored ornaments adorned a Christmas tree in the corner as well as popcorn strung up by Bill and poorly by Stan. Eddie took Richie’s hand and led him to the kitchen where there was ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and more.

“Eddie…I can’t believe you did all this.” Richie sounded choked up. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist.

“I had a lot of help and you know I would do anything for you, Richie. I…I love you.” Eddie whispered back.

Richie stared at him in disbelief, “That’s the first time you’ve said that to me.”

“Well, you say it all the time. I felt I needed to return the favor.” Eddie kissed him again.

Richie let go and ran back into the living room shouting behind him, “Can I give you my gift now? It’s too good to wait.”

Eddie laughed at him, “Of course, you idiot.”

Richie brought the gift over and Eddie unwrapped it. Inside was a clay heart that said on one side “Eddie & Richie” with the date and on the other side, it said “Losers” with a big V covering the middle S.

“I sculpted and painted it myself…with a little help from Big Bill BUT mostly me.” Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand and squeezed it.

Eddie could feel his eyes prickling with tears, “It’s amazing. You’re amazing.” They put the ornament on the tree and went back into the kitchen to enjoy their meal.

Every year, Richie and Eddie have a feast of food, make gingerbread houses, and Richie gives Eddie a special ornament until their tree is surrounded by them. Showing that their love has stood the test of time.

[futurerustfuture-dust]

I'm so sorry but I'm so thirsty can you give us any sneak peeks of anything you're working on? I know it's not deserved bc I'm already SPOILED by your twins update (I'm a monster for that fic btw)

Alright, you asked for it

Heads up some of these are NSFW

Tattoo AU (I swear to god one day I will finish this)“I’ll do what I can,” he said dryly, tugging on his shirt with a small wince at how tender his skin was, exacerbated by his difficulty moving. “Same time in two weeks?” 

“I’ll pencil you in.” He nodded in understanding and moved to pass her by before pausing, his attention turned downwards. Rey followed his line of vision and saw that he had zeroed in on her own exposed forearms, the watercolor tattoos that she’d been experimenting with newly visible now that she’d rolled up her sleeves. 

“Did you do those yourself?” he asked, reaching out to take her wrist, bringing her body closer to his in the process. Her breath caught as goosebumps rose on her skin. 

“Yes,” she said simply. “Working on a new style.” 

“It’s very . . . abstract.” He turned her wrist, examining the birds that flew past her elbow and up past the hem of her shirt. She yanked her arm back. 

“Says the man with Darth Vader on his back.”

“At least he’s tangible and not cliched. Birds. Really?” 

She’d have slapped him if she didn’t need the money. Teeth bared, she stepped backwards and looked pointedly at the door, then back to him. “You had an appointment elsewhere, didn’t you?” 

She dreamt about him that night, waking up with sticky thighs and a serious need for something between her legs, preferably long and thick. With a growl of frustration, she slid her fingers between her thighs, thumb slipping around her clit as she squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried not to think of how long it’d been since she’d last gotten fucked into the mattress. 

--

Ch. 9 of Frat AU

She’d asked for out of town and nice, and the restaurant that Kylo pulled up in front of twenty minutes later was both of those things. Tucked in a small corner of the next town over, he found a close enough spot to park near the entrance and got out to open the door for her. It gave Rey all the time she needed to text the name of the restaurant to Finn, just out of precaution, and to observe the man who she’d agreed to go out with. She’d had a feeling that things were going to be awkward, and apart from the silence that hung between them she was glad to find that wasn’t the case. Sure, he was at least ten or so years her senior. Sure, he obviously came from money to have afforded First Order, and his car, and to take her out to eat at what looked like a place with a valet, whose patrons wore suits and fancy dresses that made her own cream spring dress pale in comparison.

But he’d asked her out. He saw something in her, somehow, and hadn’t stopped pestering her until she’d finally given in. If it was just to sleep with her he would’ve gotten it out of his system already. So was all this extravagance because he genuinely liked her? Her stomach flipped at the idea, and a weight seemed to settle on her shoulders. Shit. This wasn’t supposed to be so difficult.

--

A drabble from a fic inspired by watching S1 of Reign. It’ll get finished one day. 

It had been all Kylo could do to be deep in his cups by the time they came for him. Honestly, he ought to have expected it before then. He and the lady Rey had been alone, and often. Rumors had spread of their trysts, of the way their heads bowed when they spoke, of the secret smiles that she shared with him and the way that his fingers would figure out how to tangle with his. Surely someone nearby had heard the way his heart had thudded in his chest, a rhythm not unlike the one her own mirrored he was certain.

He’d lost track of how much wine he’d drank when he’d heard the knock on his door. It was little more than a courtesy, it seemed, as the door swung open without him having given any form of consent. Lucky him. Emperor Hux stood in the doorway, his hair a fire as it caught the light just outside his door. The arrival forced Kylo to his feet as he blinked slowly, trying to piece the spinning world that was his home together, while half a dozen or so guards stepped into his room. He hit the table as he moved to bow. He needed to look sober, to look as though his wits had not left him at the prospect of the royal wedding happening in the great hall just below.

The music filtering through the floor, the fireworks going off outside the palace walls, those weren’t indicators enough, it seemed.

“My lord,” Kylo’s lips hardly moved, and he didn’t dare bring his gaze up to face his master. He’d delivered the girl as had been demanded of him, had retrieved her from the shack that could hardly pass as a home and brought him to his eldest brother. “How pleasant of you to visit me on this the evening of your triumph.”

“Your absence is noted from the festivities,” Hux said, though his face was set in a permanent sneer. “Why is that, I wondered, and so I came to see for myself what it was that kept you from witnessing your brothers most joyous day. The Lady Rey is radiant.”

She always has been. Even caked in mud and dirt as she had been when he’d first discovered her she’d been fierce, with bright eyes and a sharper tongue than he’d heard at court. She’d nearly killed him at first, convinced he’d come to steal from her as so many had done before, and now?

He’d watched her parade down the hallways with her ladies in waiting fluttering behind her, her hair catching the light until it shone like polished amber, the color high in her cheeks. He’d felt the warmth of her breath against his own lips in their few stolen instances, and grown accustomed to the heat that radiated from her body.

Now there was nothing. Nothing for him to celebrate, except perhaps the passing of the hours until he could fall asleep. “I’m certain no one misses the crown regent’s brother’s absence, my lord. I’m a far better sight left up here, where I can bother no one.”

“Except.” Hux’s voice snapped on the last ‘t’ sound, and Kylo felt his stomach knot as he straightened. “You’re not.” He looked over to the guards, giving a nod. It was lucky--for them--that Kylo was drunk. Had he been sober, their blood would’ve covered his hands before they could move so much as a step closer.

--

This is inspired by @lilithsaur‘s amazing Trash Triplets AU . . . and it will also one day be finished. I hope. This one’s hella NSFW

‘Really, what’s the point in being a triplet if you can’t let loose every once in awhile with your siblings?’ Rey considered. She groaned from her place on her apartment floor and her back arched so far she thought it might snap if she left it like that for too long. Kylo looked up at her from his place between her legs, his eyes dark and pupils blown black, eyelashes even longer looking against the pale of his skin. She wouldn’t have had to look at him to know he was grinning. The flat of his tongue dragged slowly, dangerously so against her clit, and it was all Rey could do to tighten her hold of his hair. She’d threaded her fingers through his long, inky locks and shifted her hips to allow him better access to her cunt as her legs folded over his shoulders.

When he pulled away she whimpered. Not okay. “Kylo--.”

“Look,” he motioned with his head for her to turn around just to her left, and when she did she couldn’t help but grin. Kira had Ben on his back, her hands holding his far above his head, teasing him by rolling her hips just inches from his face. Ben was groaning as he got close enough to just barely taste her, but she’d pull away at the very last minute every time. Rey couldn’t help but grin, goosebumps rising on her skin as she watched her sister tease the man beneath her. Kira was getting off on it, too. Rey recognized that flush spreading upwards and over her sister’s chest as the same one she got whenever Kylo took it upon himself to beg on his hands and knees for her favor.

It didn’t happen often, but the first time it did she came so hard she about blacked out.

--

And that empress/bodyguard AU I’m starting on WHICH is a WHOLE SENTENCE!

Really, was it her fault that her new bodyguard was just so goddamn good looking? She certainly hadn’t asked for that to be one of his qualifications (and those were many) but . . . it helped.