#give that bitch horns and then decorate them

[thatfunkylittlejesterdude]

Really shitty sketch of an image I saw. Had to put it on paper

Ignore how scuffed it is and how fucked the proportions are lmao

(Og image under the cut)

Saw it and knew it had to be done.

[fryingpan1234567]

aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell” and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

[whateverloomis]

🩸Red🩸 >> Poly!Ghost face x Killer!Reader || Scream 1996

Part 2 >> Part 3

About: While the Casey Becker and Steve Orth killings were taking place, a third kill happened as well... Billy Loomis and Stu Macher can't risk having someone else around that could ruin their goal of killing Sidney Prescott. What happens when all 3 killers get a little bit too close?

Warnings: Eventual SMUT, cheating, making out, smoking (weed,) reader is AFAB, reader is a killer, reader is short, reader is alt and has tattoos + piercings, Randy is a bitch (lol,) revised June'24

Reader: They/them pronouns that are highlighted in bold so it's easy to identify | AFAB

Word count: 2k

-

Narrator:

While the Casey Becker and Steve Orth killings were taking place, a third kill happened as well...

YN and Katherine had been friends since grade school and later on Casey joined, forming a tight 3 friend group. They'd go out together every weekend, sleep over and talk about their crushes.

When Casey started dating Steve she became distant from YN and Katherine which elicited some tension between the three. Everything felt fake. From conversations to hanging out.

As the months went by, Katherine started to distance herself from YN without any indication of anything happening between the two. It affected YN emotionally. The loneliness grew as the days went by and YN kept repeating conversation after conversation mentally to figure out what went wrong with Katherine. Then, she stopped communicating with YN completely.

One night YN went shopping alone to clear their head and walk around without the risk of encountering anyone from campus, since the students usually went to the town mall during the day.

They walked along one of the strips of the mall that lead to one of the courtyards where people would sit and relax while being under the clear night sky.

YN bought their favorite drink as a treat and walked along the sidewalk, looking for a nice spot to sit and enjoy their own company.

When YN finally found a spot, they heard a familiar laughter. It was Katherine. She walked out of a coffee shop that was near YN's chosen spot with Steve and kissed him, followed by a hug. YN gasped loud enough to catch Katherines attention. They made eye contact and Katherine gave YN the meanest look she could.

Something snapped in them that day. Not only Katherine completely discarded YN from her life, but she was betraying Casey, and on top of that Steve was being unfaithful to Casey, not to mention that he was the reason why the friend group got separated in the first place.

That's why YN went to Katherines house at night the next day. That's why YN hid behind the bushes next to her room with a red ghostface mask decorated with small horns to conceal their face. Why they called Katherine to serve as a distraction before bashing the bedroom window with a large stone and grabbed Katherine from behind, slicing her throat open and letting her bleed to death.

•

"YN? Helloooo" You heard Tatum practically scream at you. Finally snapping out of your thoughts, you shook your head and processed what she said.

"Casey and Steve too?" You asked, shock written all over your face. Tatum was slowly becoming your friend ever since she noticed you and your (ex) friends were parting. You were all in the cheerleading team and word got around pretty quick. By the day of the shocking news, you guys were officially friends. However, you didn't want to get attached, so there was still a good amount of distance when it came to trust from your part.

As the days went by, you became closer to her friend group as well, mainly because Randy kept conspiring about you being the main suspect of the group because you were the new one.

"All I'm saying is it's usually the least expected person! Plus, they dress in all black and, chains... tattoos, and scary stuff." Randy said and you scoffed, giving him an annoyed look. "I'm literally right here asshole. Plus, that has nothing to do with being a killer."

"Don't get me wrong, you're hot but c'mon YN!" - "Man fuck off! You're being a real dick head." Stu interrupted and you smiled at Randy sarcastically.

"Okay fine, i'll drop it... I've got my eye on you though." - "Randy, if you have a little crush on YN I don't think insulting them will get you anywhere." Billy interjected and everyone laughed except for the boy being called out.

"Shut up Billy! I don't have a crush it's ju-" - "Give it a rest already, YN is not the killer." Tatum said and scoffed.

Sidney seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation, always playing the victim card when other people were getting hurt too. More than her. Yeah, you might've been the cause of some of the damage but it was still annoying.

She shifted between Billy's legs uncomfortably and he gave her a subtle glare, exactly like you did before making eye contact with him. He averted your gaze quicker than you did his and you bit your lip in thought. He always seemed mysterious. The quiet type. Hot bad boy that swept anyone off their feet without even trying, but you knew best. You knew he wasn't innocent in this whole situation and you got the feeling that he knew you were part of it too. You and Billy thought alike, you were almost sure of it, but you had to get close to him. The last thing you needed was someone ratting you out to get away with possible murder.

•

Exiting out of the classroom, the day was finally over. You walked along the hallway to leave your books in your locker, but before getting there you spotted Billy opening his. You took a deep breath and put on your best smile before approaching him.

"Hey Billy!, have you seem Tatum?" You asked, sounding sweet as ever and he looked at you from head to toe. "Mm, I think she's still in class. Stu's supposed to meet me here with her s-" - "Nice boots shorty." Stu said, sticking his tongue out at you, interrupting Billy by placing his hands on his shoulders and giving him a squeeze that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You were wearing black platform knee high boots that barely did anything to help your height when it came to being next to Billy and Stu, but they were cute shoes nonetheless so that was a win.

"Yeah, thank's. Where's Tatum?" You asked Stu this time and he shrugged. "Mm I don't know man, she said Sidney needed a ride home so I think she left."

Of course she did. You guys weren't nearly as close as she was with Sidney, but she could've at least met you after class.

You rolled your eyes, trying to seem playful before answering; "Whatever, see you around losers."

Billy smirked at your little pet name and Stu just laughed annoyingly loud.

"You really think it was them man? I mean, look at that shorty with the cute personality-" - "It's an act, Stu. Can't you see?" The boys looked at you from head to toe at a distance, impossible to look away with that incredible body of yours. "We need to get closer, it's the only way." Billy said and Stu chuckled; "Or maybe you just want to tap that. I know I would." - "Can't you be serious for one second?! We can't risk someone exposing us just to get away with murder, ok?!" Billy whisper screamed while looking around to make sure nobody was too close to hear him. Even if Stu was right about Billy being undeniably attracted to you, he couldn't let that get in the way.

•

You were stressed, annoyed and not having it with Tatum leaving with Sidney and not meeting you after class, so you decided to go to your usual smoke spot to exhale the stress away. Arriving at the colleges bleachers, you sat underneath them in a secluded corner and pulled out the pipe from your bag along with already ground weed and a lighter.

After preparing everything, you placed the tip of the pipe against your mouth and lit the substance, taking a deep inhale before exhaling slowly and closing your eyes, feeling the relaxing effects wash over your body.

...

Twenty minutes went by and you were already taking your third hit, needing to numb yourself a bit before walking to your dorm. While you breathed in the smoke, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around you saw that it was Billy approaching. You got startled and the smoke went deeper into your lungs than it should've, instantly sending you into a coughing fit.

"Woah there! Didn't mean to scare you." He said, chuckling before sitting down in front of you. You coughed a few more times before catching your breath and looked at him, bursting into laughter. He couldn't help but smile at your state and lift an eyebrow.

"Is that shit that good?" Billy asked and you offered him some. "Find out for yourself." You said and he took a big hit, having a mini coughing fit himself before the effects took over.

•

A few more hits later and hours of talking to each other you were starting to take a liking to Billy. He was funny and sweet. His personality really blossomed with the effects of the weed and it was easy to let go with him. Inevitably, you guys started to talk about theories related to the murders and made fun of Randy for being a nerd when it came to horror movies, not to mention taking the rules so seriously.

"I mean, it's kinda stupid that if you're a virgin you can't get killed. That's like, some voodoo shit or something." You said, not making much sense.

"How did you even draw that conclusion?" Billy asked and smirked at your incoherent reasoning.

"I don't know! Like, it would make more sense if you kissed the killer or something and you instantly become a subject." You said, trying to make some sense of your words but you knew it didn't.

"You're not even thinking at this point." - "No, I'm not." You instantly answered and giggled, a rare occurrence for you. Billy couldn't help but find it cute and contradicting given your dark appearance.

"Hm, we're both suspects so... What if we kissed and end up being killers? Does that cancel it out or something?" Billy asked. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You paused for a moment, trying to make sense and figure out what he was implying. "Mm, I don't know, m-" - "You wanna find out?" He said suddenly, smirking.

Did he know you were responsible for one of the killings or was he just trying to make out because he was high and not thinking?

"Mm, tempting... But you have a girl, so." - "But you want to." He countered, sitting next to you, his face inches away from yours.

"I mean... Kinda..." You admitted, no filter whatsoever. Billy bit his bottom lip and scanned your face for any sign of rejection as he leaned in slowly. "Sid doesn't need to know..." He whispered and you felt him pull you in with his stare. Gosh, he was magnetic and you couldn't resist.

You decided to make a bold move and bit his bottom lip softly, eliciting a chuckle from his part.

Your lips touched and it was over. You moved in unison and played with Billy's tongue, brushing yours against his and softly moaned into his mouth. How did you even end up in that situation? It all happened so fast, but you couldn't pull away.

"You're a freaky one, huh?" He whispered and you laughed softly, standing up and straddling him. Billy immediately placed his hands on your hips and squeezed the flesh. You continued kissing and biting each other. Moaning and groaning quietly as you ground your hips against his crotch. Billy could've come right then and there with the sight of your tits bouncing while you moved against him.

You could've fucked him at that moment without a care, but before things could escalate, you heard footsteps.

Climbing off his lap and fixing yourselves, you moved far enough so it didn't seem like anything was happening.

Suddenly, Stu peaked under the bleachers and laughed; "I thought I smelled pot!"

You couldn't help but laugh along with him and offer some to the boy. That day got interesting real quick, and you couldn't deny that you loved every second of it.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 12: Missing Mirth [D2]

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Continuation of: Prompt 9. Unwanted Solitude [D1]

Setting: Roughly 1.5 years after the end of the movie and Sinclair has divorced the it’s-absolutely-not-cheating-fucking-one’s-brother-while-married-to-a-sweetheart-bitch but now things are coming to light that you’ve hidden from him — including the very long and pining crush you’ve had of him since you met the man.

A/N: It’s almost seven in the evening (11th of December) and I’m staring at this blank page (obviously, it’s not blank when you read this but bear with me here) and I just have no idea what to write for this second part of the Sinclair duett… Like, no clue. Obviously, they need to get together - HEA guarantee that comes with Rickmas - but I just don’t know how sigh

*insert Spongebob meme - many hours later* Alright, it’s now a little over 12:00 today (12th of December) AND I DID IT! It turned out good, too, I think 👀 Unfortunately I don’t have the chance to send it to my certified Sinclair super-fan ( @snowblossomreads ) for a check but since she had no changes to make last time I’m gonna keep faith and hope I’ve managed to do Sinclair justice in this one as well 🙈 TIME FOR SOME CONFESSIONS AND SMUUUUUUUUT 🔥🔥🔥

Tags/TW’s: Confessions Of Love, Natalie Slander, Fluff, Smut (Explicit), Mentions Emotional Hurt, Mentions Neglecting Oneself, Years Of Secret Pining, Threats Of Violence In Thought, Threat Of Miscommunication (Solved Instantly), and they finally just get together while realising all those years they wanted each other! Whoooop!

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4.5k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Missing Mirth

With a pair of Sinclair’s socks on your feet — as yours were drying — you sat down in the dining room with a cup of steamy tea each. Not a word had been spoken yet, and boy-oh-boy was that a strange experience with Sinclair. It was is if the very life in him had been washed out, the missing mirth and lack of joy he usually displayed during the holiday season absolutely nowhere to be found.

“Oh, right, a treat,” he declared and jumped out of his chair before striding in a rush toward the kitchen. You listened as he rummaged around in there for a moment, your stomach knotting further and further. At the same time, embarrassment of your quite sudden honesty seemed to infiltrate your thoughts — giving the knots in your stomach further reason to tighten. Why did I have to blurt it all out like that? I never blurt things out yet I even felt it was good to just get it out in the open like that? You sighed, squeezing the ear of the delicate teacup between your fingers. I’m such an idiot, and now he’s not even talking to me — what the hell do I do with a silent Sinclair?

As if on cue, the man entered with a tray stocked up with cookies. “There we go, a treat,” he announced but his voice was not quite as it should, nor were there any signs of him having eaten one while filling up the tray which was beyond odd. “Wait a minute—” you looked at the familiar cookies “—you haven’t eaten all of them yet? What’s wrong with you?” you blurted in disbelief as the tin you had left at his doorstep nearly a week ago with the very cookies now offered had obviously not run out within two days as it always did. The fact Sinclair seemed to have lost his appetite was not a red flag, it was a giant air horn blasting the loudest of warnings ever.

Sinclair looked sheepish but also sad, a strange combination seemingly rendering him speechless as he simply shrugged his shoulders while leaning back in his chair. “Sinclair,” you started, softening your voice as the knot in your stomach turned into a gnawing sensation. “Are you okay? There are no decorations up, and you're not acting as you normally do… I mean, there’s cookies left and you're not…” His eyes widened slightly. “I’m as fine and dandy as any old bloke could be.” “You’re not, though.”

He looked down at his tea. “Alright, amending my statement. I’m as fine and dandy as any old bloke who’s gone through a divorce with a woman not even willing or wanting to fight for the marriage, who also happened to be cheating during said marriage, and who also happened to do said cheating with an estranged and quite bumbling brother. And, as we are all for cherries on tops here in this house, I’ll add to boot I have not been enjoying any food at all as of late. A travesty, mind you, and far worse than the never-ending torrent of what-ifs playing through my head mixed with never-lessening nightmares of said cheater and bumbling cheater’s brother possibly fucking in the very bed I sleep in.”

You gawked at him. Barely a breath had been drawn while he’d laid it all out in one quick string of words. Alright, that had not quite been the way you’d imagined the conversation would go — Sinclair was honest and straight to the point at most times but regarding this, you hadn’t quite expected him to lay it all out so fully. “Okay, and what can I do to help?” you asked, not knowing what else to say. “Absolutely nothing. However, you made some very big statements standing in the remnants of my dishwasher’s uproar and those I wouldn’t mind getting clarifications on.”

Neither of you had touched your teas or the treats laid out, and now your stomach was too twisted up to even use the stuff as a way of pausing the conversation. But you had said some really honest things and you did stand by what you said even if said statements had been stated in a bit too much of a rush and with far too little thought dedicated to what would happen once you spilled the beans. You had thought about it over the past years several times but now, in the actual aftermath, all those thoughts didn’t come to you.

“Facts?” you asked quietly, spinning the teacup a little back and forth on the table by its ear. “Always facts.” You drew a deep breath. “Well, might as well…” you said to yourself before straightening and looking right at the man you found to be the most beautiful in all of the world. Despite the missing mirth, the lack of glow in his eyes and the less shiny hair along with the more hunched shoulder. He was still the most beautiful, but he lacked the lustre that was him. You gritted your teeth for a second as you truly took him in. That fucking bitch, I swear, if I find myself face to face with her my fist will do the talking rather than my mouth. Both perhaps — neither of them will be pleasant though.

But, despite the hate that sizzled in you, no words ever came about it. You couldn’t quite find the words to tell the facts either at first. Sinclair waited, oddly patient for the time being while your thoughts spun and you got tongue-tied while you tried to relax your body from the sudden rage at the thought of the woman who’d hurt him so badly.

“Out with it, Y/n,” he urged. “You can’t just tell me all those things in there and then not elaborate.” You sighed, feeling both uncomfortable and as if you’d put yourself in a sticky spot. “I know…” “Then elaborate, tell me, because I’m not sure what to do with myself if you’re sitting here not willing to speak again because it was lies—” “What? No!” Your heart jolted in your chest. “No, no it wasn’t lies, I just— Ugh, I’m not good with words. You know that. I don’t talk much.” “You listen well but talking is required when having a conversation, and you agreed to a conversation over a cup of tea in dry clothes. With all conditions met of the agreement I need you to just lay it out for me. People are already avoiding me, and walking on eggshells ever since the news broke and the gossipers got hold of some of the information…”

You wrapped your hands around the warm cup, your entire body tensing. “I hated her.” “Yes, I understood that.” “And I would never do or say anything that could jeopardize your happiness, and even if I hated her, and hated you two together, I couldn’t say anything ‘cus you looked happy with her. Your happiness is the most important.” “Hate?” “Yes.” Sinclair blew a raspberry, sinking down in his chair further. “Well, I never would have guessed it was that bad. She even liked you, didn’t she?” “No, Natalie only tolerated all of us because you made us all gather all the time. She was never nice to me, you know. Not that that matters, there was just something about her I hated. A sense of her being false, fake. I hate fake people.”

Sinclair looked at you, his brows scrunched in confusion. “Yet, you’ve never said anything about how you feel? Isn’t that false of you, then?” “Pfth, no, I never said how I feel out of respect. I never did anything regarding how I feel, or what I’ve thought because of the whole situation at large. I knew I was only ever your friend, the married man’s friend who happens to be good at listening, that’s all.” Sinclair nodded. “True. I never would have guessed…” “Obviously, you’re also way too good for me so even if you’d been single and all that jazz, I still hadn’t done anything about it.” “So, why tell me now?”

How were you to tell him the truth about that? Was it best to come right out and say it, or would it be better with some omissions? Not lies, but omissions? “I can see the wheels turning. Just, tell me the truth,” he said and there was a tired sweetness to his voice you had never heard before. “Truth?” “Yes, truth.” “All of it?” “How much of it can there be?”

You dove in, finally finding your voice and words. You talked for several minutes about how you hated seeing him with someone who didn’t appreciate him, how you hated the effect she’d had on him and what the divorce had done to him. You spoke at length about all the little details - from her altering her hair to fit in with the crowd to the mismatched behaviours of the two and all the way down to the missing commonalities between them.

“…and she doesn’t even like reading whereas you never stop. I remember her lamenting about you reading in bed after sex—” his eyes widened and his face turned whiter “—and I’m fully aware I wasn’t meant to hear about that but she didn’t hear me come in when she was on the phone and I caught the end of the conversation.” Sinclair looked ashen. “You have quite a lot in that head of yours.” “I listen, I hear, I look and I remember stuff. I don’t need to talk or be noticed by others to take in information, you know.” “Fair enough. But, I don’t believe anyone could be in a room with you and not notice you’re there.” “Ha! Sure, Sinclair, sure. You never noticed.” “I noticed… It wasn’t my place to notice, given being in love and married but I noticed. Quite a fault in my personality to notice things, really. Just looking around a room gives me too much to notice in every manner.”

You drew a steadying breath, feeling both relieved and crushed at the same time. “Yeah, you notice everything, except the obvious things — apparently.” “Well, some things you don’t want to notice. And if you don’t know there’s something there to notice then how are you supposed to notice it? It’s like playing hide and seek without letting the seeker know to look for the hiders.” “Well, perhaps it’s better not to notice sometime.” “In this instance, not particularly. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been taken off guard by a Trojan horse freely welcomed in my own home had I noticed things. Who knows. One can never be sure.”

You weren’t really sure exactly what you were talking about anymore but the way he looked at you had your palms heating and your cheeks burning. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Obviously, you’re still mourning the bitch— sorry, the relationship and life you guys had together given how you’re acting.” “No, no, you said it at just the right time. I stopped mourning months ago, this is something else.”

You straightened, blinking and tilting your head. “Something else?” “You’re very good at hiding things. I never would have guessed you wanted anything more than a polite friendship with me. You never gave even one hint.” “It was never a good time. When was I supposed to say to you that I had feelings for you?” “Had? As in past tense?” You stiffened. “Well… No… Present…” You shook your head. “Not that it matters. I’ll be your friend as long as you need. Obviously, your lack of an appetite and the fact the homemade cookies are still here is more than a sign you’re not in the right state of mind.” “Right state of mind?” “Well, yes. You’re obviously in some kind of depressive episode and I’ll help you and support you and be your friend until you get out of it.” Why am I saying this? I don’t want that, and I can’t stay his friend for an eternity, I’d end up dying a lonely woman with ten cats eating my corpse…

“What if I don’t want you as a friend?” His words had your throat closing up, your heart turned into a stampeding horse in your chest and the world suddenly seemed icy. “W-what?” you asked, not sure how the conversation got so turned about and flipped on its end. “What if I don’t want you as a friend, what then?” What then? What the fuck do you mean?!

You gulped a breath down. “That’s your choice…” “It’s a mutual choice, isn’t it?” “What? No, if you don’t want to be friends with me any longer we’ll go our separate ways like perfectly mature adults—” “Y/n, you’re not hearing me. For once, I might add, you’re quite bad at listening to me.”

He stood while I gaped at him. Never had I been accused of being a bad listener. It was one of very few things I was actually very good at, Sinclair even said so himself in the kitchen before — didn’t he? I had no time to think more about it as he walked up and crouched before me. “Can you hear me better from this distance?” “I— Sinclair, I could hear you just fine before.” He arched a brow at me, smiling softly. “Apparently, you couldn’t. Or maybe I wasn’t expressing myself well enough. Communication goes both ways as many studies have shown. If one part of the communication circle fails then the whole thing breaks down and the communication turns to dust. Not unlike how arguments often go, well, it certainly starts arguments when communication fails — no matter in what part of the circle the fault lies.”

You looked down at him, seeing his golden hair and the handsome features of his face so close again had your heart in a twist. And, right now, you didn’t know if that was a good twist or a bad one. “What are you saying?” He chuckled, the sweet sound music to your ears as it had been so long. “I am trying to say I do not want to be friends, I want to be more. Through this whole mess, the one constant thing has been you, even before this mess, you were a certain constant. I couldn’t allow myself to think anything more of it before, I was married and in love so there really couldn’t be anything more to it. Now, well, perhaps there is something to the whole love makes you blind saying. There has to be a reason it has stayed alive and remained accurate for centuries, no? Something has to be said for it. In this instant, I’d say the belief of being in love had me blind to love.”

You gaped at him. Through his whole monologue, you’d barely been able to breathe — despite loving his usual chatty personality reappearing this time you wished he had just gotten to the point so you could make your heart stop racing and possibly prevent a heart attack. “Are you saying… you’re in love with me?” His eyes softened. “I should speak plainly for once. Sorry, darling. Yes, I’m in love with you.” You stiffened, your mind not believing what your ears were hearing. “In love with me?” “Yes.” “But, I’m in love with you.” He chuckled. “Yes, rather fantastic coincidence — even if I don’t believe in coincidences. Studies have shown—” To hell with studies! Without thinking for another second, you leaned in, took his warm face in your hands, and kissed him harshly. His thin lips were stiff against yours for a heartbeat and then his hands landed on your thighs and he kissed you back. The world fell away and your shoulders relaxed as the sweet taste of him invaded your mouth. Kissing him was all you had dreamt it would be and more.

His tongue dipped out, your lips parted, and the kiss deepened. Your mind turned blank, zeroing in on him and him alone as his hands squeezed your thighs and slid upwards in intervals. They were warm and gentle — nearly careful. “Sinclair,” you moaned into his mouth. “Are you sure?” you continued as your lips parted and your eyes locked. “As sure as I’ve ever been.”

His fingers grasped the back of your neck a moment later, squeezing softly before rubbing back and forth. “You have been on my mind for a long time,” he said. “Now, hearing you feel for me as I feel for you, there is no reason to be patient or linger in the past. History may be written inaccurately by the winners of it, twisting facts and glorifying the wrongful ones at times. But, right now, I feel like one of those winners and I want to make the future wonderful with you so our history is gloriously accurately beautiful.” You bit your lip, holding back tears at his endearing words. “I want that, too.”

He kissed you again, diving in in desperation with a deep groan seeping into you from him as your hands roamed and his caressed in tune with his tongue. There were too many clothes, too little time, and far too much stumbling about happening as you clung to each other while moving through the house until you reached the stairs.

He paused, kissing you softly on the lips. “As delicious as the finest of desserts,” he whispered before grabbing your hand and walking up the stairs with you behind him — stumbling on unsteady legs while his gentle hold of your hand kept you from falling in the midst of desperation and warmth taking over your body.

How on earth you ended up here, thanks to a dishwasher breaking, you weren’t quite sure but you were certain that speaking the truth and opening up was part of it. For so long, you had remained silent — remained a supportive friend, a quiet listener, a treat-giving one — now you had spoken up and the world seemed to align with your wish for the first time in as long as you could remember.

Sinclair squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing along your knuckles as you rushed to the bedroom. Your step faltered, seeing the large bed with beige bedding and white pillows had your stomach knotting. She slept in that, and he fucked her here, and kissed her, and held her, and read after— you couldn’t finish the thought.

“Sweet-treat?” Sinclair asked as you stood stock-still just inside the door frame. “New sheets?” you asked, your voice quiet but your eyes glaring at the beautiful bed. “New sheets, new mattress, new pillows, new covers, new everything but frame,” he said in a rush and you drew a breath of relief even if it technically still was the same bed. “I couldn’t sleep in it not knowing if they had…” he trailed off. You nodded. “Yeah…”

The silence stretched for a moment as you both looked at each other. It was odd, being in silence with Sinclair. “Let’s wipe history clean like the winners tend to do,” you whispered and stepped toward him. His shoulder softened. “Please,” he replied quietly and the sweetness in his eyes, the soft smile tugging his lips up, and the gentle way his lips met yours had you swooning.

The tempo picked up, hands roamed, lips kissed, tongues danced and the world fell away around you both. “Off,” you said in an exhale while tugging at his shirt. “Off,” he replied while gliding his hands down your sides, tugging at the fabric of your outfit. Then you both stripped in a rush, there was no time for gentle undressing or seductive stripping when your body burned for his and his eyes shined with want for you.

Crashing into bed, you tumbled around, uncoordinated and inexperienced with each other’s bodies. He licked at your peaked nipples while your hands caressed his shoulders. Your hair got tangled and his dishevelled in a glorious golden heap you had to run your hands through that very instant. “Mmmmh,” he hummed as your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. His mouth latched on around your nipples as he nestled himself between your thighs. The warmth of his body was a wonder to feel. You moaned before panting his name. “Sinclair, Clair, oh,” you mewled as he suckled and kissed. “Gorgeous,” he whispered before kissing his way from one breast to the other as your back arched.

His hand glided down your side before squeezing your thigh softly. “You are absolutely stunning,” he murmured before kissing his way up your neck in a rush only to captivate you with a look of pure want as he rose above you. “I want you,” you said. “Please,” you continued as you reached down and folded your hand around his straining cock before pumping him in a measured rhythm. He groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as his lips parted on a deep exhale.

You hardened your hand, swiping your thump over his tip where pre-cum had formed. A moan escaped you as he sunk a bit and you could pump his cock while the tip of him stroked your clit — the sensation overwhelming and arousing while not being nearly enough as you burned for him to touch you everywhere.

He dove in, kissing and nipping at your throat, your lips, your cheek and your earlobe. His motions were soft — caressing — yet still fervent and hasty. “I want you, I want you to fill me,” you panted while holding back a whimper as your core contracted around nothing. “Yes,” he panted, groaning in tune with your moans.

He reached down and you lost contact with his cock as he rose a bit between your legs but before a whimper could leave you his fingers stroked your clit and then down. You panted and his fingers dove inside, two from the very start as you were warm and tender for him — yet he asked if it felt good, your moans and nods all the answer you were able to give.

He pumped your cunt, gentle and measured strokes slowly turning more hasty as his hips began to buck and you had to release his cock as he rocked back. “I need you, god, I need you,” he groaned before removing his fingers and grabbing his cock. Before he pushed himself in he hooked you with his eyes. “Clair?” you asked, nearly thrashing beneath him with the tip of his cock right at your entrance and the glorious view of him between your naked thighs everything you had ever dreamt of it to be. “I want you,” he murmured through his ragged breathing. “Tell me you want me to, tell me if you want me to stop, tell me if—” You whimpered. “Please, please just fuck me like I’ve wished for years.”

He needed no more from you than that, it seemed. He pushed forward, stretching you wide as he slowly filled the void you had been clenching around for far too long. “Oh fuck,” you hissed in pleasure while arching your back and pushing your head into the pillow below. You wrapped your legs around him as he leaned forward with a deep moan of pleasure as his hands planted themselves on each side of your head and you got the most spectacular view of his face. The scrunched brows, the parted lips, the slight tilting of his head exposing his neck as he took you all the way — pushing his way to the hilt and filling you completely.

He kept close to you, his hips doing short and quick pumps as he groaned deeply. “You’re perfect,” he murmured as he began picking up speed and your core clenched around him as he pulled further out. “Haaa—!” You whimpered and grabbed at his biceps. “Sinclair, yes, oh yes!” It was all you had ever dreamt of, all you had longed for, and as he leaned forward to hold you close while his hips rocked you back and forth under him you felt as if you’d gone to heaven.

He groaned, holding you tight while angling his hips to take you harder, deeper — how the fuck that was possible you had no idea but by heaven it was amazing. “So good, so so so good,” he purred deeply. “I want to eat you up, lick every inch of you, devour you like the full meal of deliciousness you are, sweet-treat,” he said through moans and groans as he picked up the pace further — rocking the entire bed. “My darling, my Y/n,” he purred before panting wildly.

You were on fire beneath him, holding on to his back while squeezing his hips with your thighs. His pelvis hit your clit as he rocked forward and upwards — pushing you up the bed while deriving a moaned cry from you. “Clair,” you cried out. “I’m— Haaaa!” you stiffened as your core tightened while he kept pummelling you, switching angles and pace in intervals while you both turned warm and misty with sweat. The sweat smell filled your nostrils while the sounds of your bodies joining and the shared pleasure filled the room.

He picked up the pace and you cried out for him. “Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” he groaned through clenched teeth. “So good, you’re so good, so perfect, so perfect,” he murmured as you writhed beneath him, reaching for your peak but holding on for him. “I need— Fuck, Sinclair, please,” you whimpered and he gritted his teeth before slamming his lips against yours while still managing to keep the pace as he took you to heaven.

You stiffened, he groaned into your mouth, and his pace turned into a crazed one. “I’m coming, god, yes, please, yes!” you cried out as an explosion erupted within you, shaking every limb and shooting pulses of pleasure through every fibre. “Hnnnng— Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” he groaned as he stilled while you trembled around him and he pulsed inside you. A deep moan vibrated through his chest and into yours as you held on to him and kissed his shoulder sloppily while your high slowly diminished and his body relaxed further atop you.

You were a mess of sweaty body parts and heaving breaths, but what truly had irrevocably been changed was your heart. You kissed everywhere you could reach as he regained his composure and slipped out of you with a slight squelching sound. Hot fluid leaked down your seem only to pool beneath you on the sheets.

Sinclair leaned up, watching you intently with soft eyes and a relaxed face. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Alright?” You scoffed with a smile. “I’m wonderful, darling. Wonderful,” you said quietly as the warmth inside of you softened every part of your body and mind. “As am I, my sweet-treat.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Now, let’s clean up and have those cookies downstairs. I feel my appetite returning with a vengeance,” he said with a smile so warm and indulgent you could barely keep yourself from bursting into tears at seeing the Sinclair you knew so well...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: We got some smut, some fluffy and sweet and warm smut 😍👏 I hope you enjoyed the second part of Sinclair’s fic - my first story about him ever 👀🙈 I don’t know if I’ll write more for him in the future, we’ll see how that goes but this was fun to try! IT certainly warmed me up while sitting here with my double layers of clothes and thick slippers along with a blanket wrapped all around me 😂👌

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[cherlockgomes]

Saltburn: an ode to all the weirdos in Greek Mythology

If Anyone But You is a modern remake of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, then Saltburn is a clever culmination of elements from Greek Mythology. The film borrows imagery and symbolism from the island of Crete to hint at the underlying themes of ambition and the class system that mark the film.

In order to understand the references, you’d have to know about the minotaur, Icarus and the labyrinth. 

On the island of Crete lived another one of Zeus’ offspring ( honestly, at that point, who wasn’t one of his offspring). Minos, the king of Crete, is an objectively terrible dude, but to cut a long story short, he was supposed to sacrifice his prized bull to the sea god Poseidon but decided to keep it for himself instead. Now the gods just so happened to be the definition of petty bitches, so in the most Greek Mythological way possible, Poseidon cursed Minos’ wife to fall in love with the bull. Their torrid affair (yes, she slept with the bull) resulted in a monstrosity that is the Minotaur- half man, half bull, complete nightmare fuel. 

Minos commissioned Daedalus to make a complicated maze to trap the monster. Sacrifices were sent into the labyrinth to be killed. Among them was Theseus, who, with the aid of Minos’ daughter ( who fell madly in love with him), managed to be the first to escape after slaying the Minotaur. Minos needed a scapegoat to pin the blame on (there’s something about a ball of yarn, and as I said, Minos is just a terrible guy overall), so he turned to Daedalus. He then proceeded to have him and his son locked up in a tower that overlooked the Icarian sea (I don’t know why he was so upset- I’d kill for a tower away from everyone with the bonus of a sea view in this economy). Daedalus, being the incredible inventor that he was, fashioned two pairs of wings out of wax so that he and his son could escape. Drunk on freedom and fueled by the recklessness of one’s youth, his son Icarus paid no heed to his father’s warnings and aimed for the sun. The heat melted the wax, sending him plummeting to his death, much to his father’s dismay.

Ok, so now that you have a gist I can begin to explain how a story about beastialty and wax could find its way into a movie that possibly single-handedly increased bathtub sales. 

The story carries themes of bloodshed, cannibalism, imprisonment and fear. One can view the family as the people sent to die at the hands of the Minotaur, or in their case- Oliver—the seemingly random costumes and decorations, like the horns Oliver wears, further aid the parallels. The maze (or Labyrinth) holds a statue of the Minotaur in its centre, under whose gaze Felix falls into an early grave. The cannibalism aspect also gives a more suitable explanation for the infamous bathtub and vampire scenes.

Felix’s character alludes to that of Icarus: naive, reckless and the companion of a tragic fate. In a way that’s almost jarringly in-your-face, the party scene further brings out this parallel in the form of his seemingly low-effort costume. The golden wings stand out against the rest of Felix’s understated outfit, thus tying together the symbolism in a neat package.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[spectralstitions]

lil oc animatic :]

Okay, okay, so if you follow my private Twitter account I know I said I wasn't going to share this publicly BUT I remembered I have an oc blog and you know what, I figure the only people who are going to see this are the people who can handle my cringe anyways, so I made it an unlisted youtube video. I made this in 2 days and It's set to the tune of Harpy Hare by Yaelokre because sometimes I get to be a basic bitch, as a treat.

I planned some of the animatic visually in my head before I started but 99% of the frames ended up being stream of consciousness, just whatever I came up with in the moment. Including the designs for three characters! I knew that if i tried to plan literally anything I would have ended up not finishing or maybe not even starting this. I did still try my best to make it cohesive and I wanted it to be mostly understandable, but at the same time I know nobody knows my ocs the way I do so it's very possible this is just a mess to everyone who isn't me lol. But that's why i'm here to ramble on and on and on and on....... So first point of discussion! The two mystery characters in the beginning! I tried to make it clear in other parts of the animatic but those are Silas' and Finlay's parental figures, respectively.

The first character who appears is Faust. That was supposed to be a placeholder name but I can't get it out of my head so they are Faust now. They are Silas' caretaker and the person Silas' parents trusted to take care of him when they gave him up. Faust took Silas out of the desert (despite his many protests...) and raised him among mostly deerkin. Culture in the Southern Havens is very concerned with manners, fitting into norms, and being knowledgable about highly specific superstitions, among other things. So despite Silas' best efforts, he is literally fucking Blue, has horns, and is also neurodivergent, so he never stops feeling like an outcast. Plus, the forest roof is so thick that it's really hard to see the stars at night, which depresses him because in the desert the entire world looks like a night sky! Secretly Faust would like for Silas to think of them as a parental figure, but Silas never really does; he views them more like a permanent babysitter than anything. Faust is also perhaps overly gentle on Silas and though he will express that he wishes he got out more he can't bring himself to actually push him to do anything that makes him uncomfortable, partially out of affection for him and partially because he feels so guilty about bringing him to the forest in the first place.

The second character is Finlay's dad, who is... a character! You will notice that he is absent from 99% of the animatic, just like how he was absent from 99% of Finlay's life!

In many of the frames I was very intentional about the use of lighter and darker tones and there's no way I can talk about every instance in this post so, I guess pay attention to all that for symbolism! The one thing I will mention are Silas' eyes! Which become dark but gain brightness again when Finlay gives him hope for the future, and they stay bright even when he loses that dream because in place of romanticism he gains clarity.

Last couple of things to note before I move on!! For the parts with Faust and Finlay's dad, I designed the side decorations after the types of patterns that each culture that they're associated with (Southern Havens & the Farlands, respectively) tends towards! And, I also indicated time passing using both Silas' horns and Finlay's hood (it gains stitches as he gets older). Finlay's hood also symbolizes when he's hiding his true self vs when he's not >:) And actually I think we are now at the last point I wanna discuss so!! THIS GUY!!! THIS FELLA!!!!!!!! I'M REALLY REALLY HAPPY I MADE SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THEM!!!!! So get ready for a lore dump on this guy...

This is why animatics / comics are great for me because it forces me to actually design the characters I need to design LOL

OKAY! SO! In terms of direct relevance to the animatic, all that's important to know is that this is the spirit that haunts Finlay! Or at least, the one he believes is haunting him... he's not really sure anymore....

So let me explain the character's deal! Firstly, and this goes for pretty much any spirit, pronouns don't really matter, so anything is fine. I also haven't given them a name yet (rip), I need to figure out those naming conventions first. For now they're just Finlay's Spirit. This spirit's shtick is that they seek out those who have been (or feel as though they have been) "left behind" and offer them belonging and love in the form of.... weaving their souls into little stuffed dolls for their oh so beloved collection. According to the stories, their grounds are littered with shallow, hastily dug graves wherein they dump any remains of the body they deem disposable. When they pull their hood over their face, it disguises them as kinfolk, usually taking a form that represents whatever type of belonging the victim yearns for (for example, for Finlay it was a parental figure). When they approach someone they frame it as "come with me i'll give you a home :]" or possibly "let's make a deal :]" but if the person refuses they will drop the act and take their soul (or whatever it is that they want) by FORCE if ya know what I mean!!! (Which is actually not very common, even for evil spirits. They can usually respect no as an answer specifically because they make it so hard to do. Guess this guy REALLY likes their doll collection. There's only one real way to get away from them and it doesn't look like Finlay is gonna figure it out anytime soon...)

Design-wise! Their true body is obscured and amorphous. They cover themselves in stitched-together fabric scraps with only their face and seeming hundreds of arms/hands ever peeking out of the ensemble. Their fingers are sewing needles and they move very stiffly, almost as if they are moving at a lower frame rate than everything around them. (This remains as a subtle tell when they're disguised!) Their teeth are thin and pointy and stick out in such a way that their mouth almost appears sewn shut when closed.

Like just about any evil spirit they simply get pure joy out of tormenting poor kinfolk. So oftentimes, they will torment a victim for a very long time until the person has finally lost their hope and can be willingly taken. And then they get to remain as a sentient functionless doll and the spirit gets to revel in all their misery for the rest of eternity yayyyyy!!!!!! :]

Finlay has only had one verifiably real encounter with this spirit when he was a child wherein he refused it and it took after him as if to kill him. But it disappeared suddenly and Finlay has been terrified of it ever since because he knows it could be anywhere and anyone. I do want to make it clear that even though this character does physically exist and is a part of the narrative, they're also... kind of a symbol in themselves? Like, in a META sense, Finlay's trauma does not LITERALLY come from this spirit, but from what the spirit represents. Does that make any sense!!! In writing him it's a really careful balance for me to strike because I want everything to be grounded in reality but I also want that reality to be exaggerated for fantastical and storytelling purposes... ya know!!

Okay well!! That's everything I can think to talk about for now, but please feel free to ask if you have any questions about anything!!!! Because that would be fun!!!!! Until next time! :]

[asksuccubussides]

(Hi, me again.)

I’d like to go with you if it isn’t a bother. I can just scuttle around the walls while you talk to Emile.

Sketch

"Alrightie. Come on lil buddy"

Remus got up from his bed and it was quite noticeably that he'd recently eaten in his unsual demon way. With his skin less pale and his movements less slow and shaky he looked a lot more like Roman, which he would probably vehemently deny.

You followed along the long white halls that made up the succubi living quarters. He made a sudden turn into something that looked like a mix between a library and an office. It stood out from the rest of the halls since it was bathed in warm earth tones. Brown floors and bookcases mixed with green desks and beige mats.

A succubus was sitting up on one of the desks with their back turned against Remus and you. Remus got a mischevious grin on his lips as he put his finger against his mouth to make you shush.

"That's Reeeemmmmyyy! Let's spook the guts out of them!" He was half whispering even if he fully knew they couldn't hear him.

He sneaked on the tips of his toes while laughing. His tail was swinging back and forth behind him out of evil excitement. He stopped right behind Remy and got ready to pounce when Remy suddenly turned around and smacked him on the forehead like a sibling would.

Remus' mouth hung agape for a moment before exclaiming "HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS COMING!?!? You sneaky fuck! You ruined my scare!"

While he talked he signed every third word or so with his hands. He had a bad habit of skipping signs when he got filled with any sort of extreme emotion.

'I could still see your shadow Ridiot' Remy signed back, signing the letter R before idiot to indicate it was such an idiotic move only one of the R twins could have been behind it.

'Gonna lock my shadow up before jumping on you next time' Remus rembered you were stil there and told you directly "This is Remy by the way. They're a silly bitch with brocoli growing out of their ass and-"

'I can still read lips RIDIOT!' Remy interrupted, making their hand movements bigger to show they were doing the sign language equivalent of yelling.

"And they're deaf so please think of that if you're gonna speak to them" He covered his mouth before continuing so Remy couldnt read his lips "Andasillybitch" He moved his hand away again signed to Remy 'This is sketch. She's one of those weird sunglassed non demons that keep popping up'

He held you up like you were a tiny dog or a ferret. You got a good look at Remy. Their stark white hair stood out the most, you hadn't seen any demons with non human hair colors so far. They wore sunglasses that hid their eyes and their blue horns looked a bit like a rams. Their skin was so pale it took almost a blueish tone that matched with their blue and black clothes.

Remy waved hello to you while giving a relaxed smile.

'You here to talk with Emile?' The sign for Emile was one they'd made up. It was like a mix of the signs for honey and babe. 'Cause you sure as hell wasn't here yesterday when you should have. Y'know Orange's gonna super bitch about that on the next meeting'

Remus waved it off "Yeah Yeah. I'll gnaw off his feet and feed the toes to crows or something"

Remy's expression softened a little as they asked 'Were you on earth?'

He nodded. They silently bumped their forehead against his, they knew he was only on earth if he had to do his job.

They stood up and let him lean his head against theirs as he followed them a bit further into the room where Emile Picani had his desk set up.

Emile was focused on writing something with a pen with a lil elephant eraser on the top of it. He had a beanbag as a chair, a stitch plushie watching from the top of a stack of books and his desk was decorated with stickers from various cartoons.

He shone up like the sun when he saw the three of you. Remy made place for themself on his lap and kissed his cheek. He had a fluffy afro and long reddish horns that nearly created a circle around the top of his head, like a saint. He wore loose brown soft clothes and a bright pink tie.

"Remus! Just the demon I've been looking for" Emile scrambled to find his glasses and report card in the mess that was his desk "Ready to give your monthly report?"

"No I'm ready to assasinate the both of you..Kidding uhuhahauhhhghh...." He let out a sigh "I've seduced 4 humans this month"

"Aw buddy. You must be hungry" Emile commented like he usually did while writing it down "I'm sure you're just a late bloomer. You'll find someone that tingles your tongle someday. The latest bloomed flowers are the prettiest"

"Yeah...I'm aiming for a venus fly trap"

Remy and Emile are now open for asks!

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Homewrecker, husband-stealer villainess!

Idia is not going anywhere, you hear me?! You might be happy being the other woman, but I'm not happy with the pair of horns!

NOTE: I only write for female Reader, but everyone is welcome to read!

Inspired by @adrianasunderworld in this funny as hell post.

THIS HAS A SEQUEL! What if we fake married for real? (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾) ~★

"To give someone a pair of horns" is to cheat on them. Also, Rook gets involved because he'd absolutely adore to be part of the drama.

— (⁠╬⁠☉⁠д⁠⊙⁠)⁠⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Idia knows he's not frozen like the others, but honestly, he feels like it. He feels like even his lungs, even his heart has stopped. All because of this cute-faced npc who forced her way into a romance route with him. If he could think about it, he'd think about that horror game with the same story, but right now his mind is blank.

He has reached the point of no return. Actually dying would just reinforce his fate.

Or, at least, is what he thought. Almost as if answering to his thoughts, there's a loud noise coming from the other side of the doors, followed by footsteps.

Then the doors are thrown open by none other than (Y/N), the Ramshackle Housewarden that the school affectionately tends to call "Prefect".

She's dressed to the nines in a breathtaking wedding gown, the skirt pooling around her like God-Tier CGI, the blue accents contrasting beautifully with the pearly white of the dress, the blue roses decorating her head in a crown making her look like Persephone herself. She'd look perfect, if it weren't for the tear streaks her make-up left behind.

Wait. Tear streaks?

The silence breaks with the Prefects loud, shrill screech, a sound no one has ever thought she, the usually soft spoken and gentle Prefect, would be capable of.

"HOMEWRECKER!"

Without stopping to breath, she walks forwards, looking angrier and angrier each step taken.

"How dare you, you conniving bitch?! How dare you steal my groom! ON OUR WEDDING DAY?!" she screams at Eliza, stopping in the middle of the way to point at... at Idia himself?! "And you! You good-for-nothing two-timer! How dare you leave me waiting at the altar?!"

"Young man, I am terribly disappointed!" Professor Crewel chides from behind her, and Idia finally notices the group that actually came in with her. "I did not give you permission to marry my daughter, my first and only daughter, for you to break her heart on her happiest day!"

"Big brother! How could you! Think of your child!" Ortho chimes in, and if Idia hadn't built tear tracks on the boy himself, he would believe firmly in his tears. "Little Meg would be so sad if her daddy just left for another woman!"

"Idia, what is the meaning of this?!" it's Eliza's turn to screech, turning to him with fury in her eyes. Idia stutters a few random letters, trying to form words, just as confused as she is.

Until it clicks.

Right. Fake relationship. How could he forget one of the most cliche tropes in romance's history?

"I... I... t-this isn't what it looks like!" he finally manages to say, trying to look as desperate as he can, which is not hard considering what his fate is in case this plan fails. "I can explain!"

"Is it because of my past with Rook?! "

"Young man, you're still hung up on that, despite being the only man I've ever approved for my daughter?"

"What?!" someone yells in the crowd, but the man in question promptly enters the play as if he was born for this moment alone.

"Monsieur, I have told you this already, but I shall say it again! My dear dove's happiness is the most important to me! If she has chosen you, then my heart shall settle!" What the fuck, why is Rook so good at improv?

"I-I know!" calm down, Idia, think of this as a rhythm game and keep the beat going! "I don't... I don't want this, but this villainess wouldn't listen!"

"Wait, so this woman is telling the truth?!"

"This woman?! THIS WOMAN?! You mean his true bride?!" (Y/N) steps closer, fat crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks, smudging her make-up even more. "You- you- you husband-stealer! Know your place! You come into my house, you steal my groom and the father of my daughter-"

"I see no child-"

"Do you think I'd bring my child to see my husband's mistress?!"

"Big sister, calm down, think of the baby! Your stress levels are dangerously high!"

"WHAT BABY?!"

"Monsieur Shroud, if you do not fix this situation, I shall be taking my belle back! Do not worry, the children will not grow without a father!"

[existslikepristin]

A hefty thanks to @ggidolsmuts and @midnightdancingsol for help reviewing and editing this!

That's it. You don't get a blurb this time!

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Gfriend/VIVIZ, SinB, technically also Yerin, talking about futa!Eunseo, feet stuff I think, weak-ass spanking, developing new kinks, a worldwide circle jerk

Fancam, Basically (Part 1 of 2)

SinB finally set up the last of her decorations. She sat back and looked at them with pride. They were perfect for packing up and concealing in a small duffel bag, yet large enough to drown the field of view of the camera in a dazzlingly fluffy display of luxury.

The camera was top of the line, and she had a dedicated computer as well. It was only average in terms of specs, but the custom software it contained was exclusive to SinB thanks to a few strings she’d pulled.

Her clothes were less exclusive, but no less perfect for the situation. For bottoms, a pale pink miniskirt over a black barely-there string thong. On top, a hot pink sheer cardigan, wide open so as not to hide the soft pastel pink lacy tank top. The only piece of clothing she was wearing that wasn’t easily visible was her black bra, which was cut so low that it only half-covered her nipples and matched her strappy stiletto heels.

An extra piece had been added to her ensemble recently: a crazy, jeweled, feathery, horned masquerade mask given to her at a fanmeet, but it sat idly on the table next to her computer along with her modest pile of equally modest sex toys. She didn’t plan on wearing it, but it was an appropriate decoration anyway.

With an excited shiver, SinB sat down on the fuzzy rug in front of the camera, shifted her bluetooth keyboard and mouse into positions that would make them easy to reach, and logged in to CamDream under her fantastically clever alias:

GeeBeeSeeBee

SinB flipped on the camera and watched her indicator light change from red to yellow. Preview mode. She had her idol status to protect, so she didn’t trust CamDream’s preview screen. Instead, she had her own installed. She would see her preview on monitor one, her chat and various other CamDream features on monitor two, and monitor three was for any extras, like watching anybody else’s camera feed. SinB was cautious. She always did a full systems check.

Camera: preview mode, of course.

Necessary application windows: open and appropriately distributed.

Paraphernalia like dildos and water: within reach.

Toe tattoo: very well-hidden.

Camera stand: bolted into the floor.

Phone: silent mode, and…

SinB squeezed her phone so hard her knuckles went white. She smashed the answer button.

“Fuck do you want?!”

Yerin snickered snidely. “I see you’re sticking to your biweekly schedule there.”

“Shut up you goddamn insect!” SinB shouted into the microphone. Hearing Yerin’s gasp of ear pain was mildly satisfying, but she couldn’t help but scold herself mentally. She had tried to avoid a confrontation with Yerin about what happened during her Russian ski trip. But that was a bad idea. She had hoped that if she pretended not to know anything, Yerin would eventually figure GeeBeeSeeBee wasn’t actually her and drop the issue.

Clearly, she should have known Yerin was more persistent than that.

“Hey now Beeb, no need to get your dildo in a twist! I’mma just teasing you!”

Part of the benefit of Yerin dropping the issue would have been that the obsessive bitch would still watch GeeBeeSeeBee’s show, still unsure if it was really SinB or not. Not that SinB hadn’t fantasized about that; confounding Yerin, letting Yerin jill off to the sight of a girl just for looking like her, maybe saying something like “Yerin is my bias” and hearing her scream in orgasm, meeting for breakfast the next day and acting like nothing happened while Yerin couldn’t help but hump a pillo—

“I don’t give a shit, Yerin! Just… let me do my fucking thing and I’ll let you do yours!”

She couldn’t hang up fast enough. She heard Yerin’s giggles, and spiked her phone to the rug. Despite her rage, she continued her systems check.

Extra face camera: in position to alert her if she dipped too far down.

Voice modulator: set to slightly higher pitch and minor distortion.

In-ear: functional.

Mood lighting: perfect.

Background tunes: sexy.

Phone: still silent but blinking…

SinB slammed the phone’s screen. Yerin’s text was equally as infuriating as her call. So, if my FUCKING thing happens to be watching your show…

Conceding victory to Yerin was not an option. She texted back immediately. how bout you dont watch SHIT you whore

Mmm. I bet I can get Eunha to make you call me that in person while you sit on my face. Please call me a whore in person. I want it sooo bad!

SinB tried to come up with a threatening response, but before she could type it up, another text from Yerin came through.

Oh wow. I don’t know why I didn’t think to invite Eunha to watch this camgirl with me. I bet she’d love her.

SinB’s eyes flicked back and forth between the time and the steadily blinking text cursor at the top of her phone’s keyboard. It was nearly time for the show to start. Not that she really cared about punctuality, but there were people already in the chat expressing their adoration for GeeBeeSeeBee. She sent more texts, hoping it would get her point across, spray-and-pray style.

fuck you

bitch

i will fucking murder you jung

i will sit your goddam throat

slit*

nobody

will find

your corsp

She flung her phone out of sight. She didn’t need the kind of negativity Yerin was putting on her. Show nights were special. SinB could admit that she loved being desired despite her anonymity, but admitting that she loved all of the sex acts Eunha had been putting her through for months was out of the question. Even more out of the question was admitting that she really, really, really wished that Yerin would participate in them—

“FUCK YOU, YERIN!” SinB screamed so hard it hurt her throat. The other members, including Yerin, weren’t in the dorm, but she hoped Yerin could hear it echoing through the aether.

A few deep breaths did a decent job at calming her down. She still fully intended to go through with her show, so with one minute remaining until her scheduled start time, she scanned the chat. There were already twenty-three viewers watching the music visualization with her screen name printed over it. Nearly all of those would be her regulars. Either they were notified by email or app, or they had her schedule memorized. The newbies and the randos would come later.

The messages zipping past at breakneck speed warmed her heart in the weirdest way, especially the ones from her regulars, or “lovers,” as she liked to call her little personal perverted fanclub. Bro I got the dono money toniiite!; face revel today i can feel it; hell yes! you are the best; thicc thicc thicc thicc THIIICCCCC THIGHS; No guys, GBSB is the best. But yes, you’re still a legend.; think she’ll show her feet again?; Full nude show beginning to end! Save your donos for the action!; action all the way; lul the feet thing was from some random rich ass donor dont count on it; already jerking off omggggg; gonna be hawt af; I hope her internet doesn’t crash again; What? She’s not that thicc. But I would die in her thighs, yes.

SinB looked down at her thighs. They were very slightly thicker than normal. She hadn’t restarted her workouts. She smiled and pinched her own leg. If her lovers were into a tiny little bit of chub, she was happy to provide it.

She clicked the countdown button on CamDream’s streamer page. The yellow indicator light flashed once, twice, three times. The green one joined it for another one, two, three flashes. Finally, the green flashed on its own. SinB struck a pose, going full pinup girl mode. One hand on the small of her back to create the illusion of a deeper arch, the other sweeping her cardigan back and pinching back her tank top to make her still-toned figure more obvious. She even pursed her lips for an air kiss at the face cam. Not that anyone would see it but her.

Three…

Two…

One…

Showtime.

“Hellooo lovers,” SinB said with perfect timing and all the charisma she cared to glean out of her veteran idol career.

It was time for them to get off on her body. She’d get off on that. They’d get off on her getting off, and she’d get off on that. It was the kind of cycle that, in SinB’s experience, would get really, really, really vicious.

The already-speedy chat window went supersonic as viewers swarmed in and SinB turned herself side to side. Her stiletto’d heels pressed into the backs of her thighs in turn. She leaned forward, letting the bra do what pushup work it could to give her any amount of cleavage. Her pitch black hair was just getting long enough again to tickle her shoulders. With the elation she felt at seeing her lovers losing their shit, begging her for more, that tickle turned into a whole shiver. Goosebumps spread over her entire body, too small for the camera to pick up on.

“Boys. And. Girls! Are you excited tonight?!” SinB was feeling giddy. Show night never failed to make her forget all her troubles.

As much as she loved seeing all of the blatantly horny messages from randos, she knew the chat was moving too fast for her to be able to read anything from anyone who mattered. She slipped a hand out of sight of the camera and tapped in the keyboard shortcut for slow chat mode. It didn’t prevent anyone from posting. It simply superimposed messages from a preselected list of users, or with attached donations, over the top of everybody else’s.

“I know I’m excited! I even got all dressed up for you, lovers. See?” SinB backed away from the camera and, still on her knees, modeled her effective lack of “dressed up.”

She bit her lower lip at the sight of herself on the preview monitor. Her skirt didn’t fully cover her goods at this angle. Her labia, split down the center by her minuscule thong, were visible on screen, and not even in a subtle way. SinB looked like the trashiest fantasy slut, absolutely whorish, and behind her anonymous veil, she was completely in lust with herself.

SinB turned around, propping one leg up on her heel while the other stayed down. She spread her ass with one hand, briefly admiring the way her hot pink nail polish looked digging into the flesh of her butt cheek. Even more than the front, the back of the thong was practically nothing. Thanks to her dancer’s flexibility, she was free to admire the rim of her asshole on the monitor.

“Oh no!” SinB squealed in a mockish falsetto. “I think my juicy ass ate most of the fabric!”

The chat rapidly filled with “lol”s and peach emoji.

“Thank fuck someone gets my humor,” SinB said before closing her legs and plopping back to her knees in front of the camera.

A couple of smaller private chat windows popped up to the side. akibangerooni said, Damn gurl! I have a dono here to make you undress for the whole night but thats hot as shit! Should I wait? and jinnielikestitties asked, How much tonight baby?

SinB was a well-oiled machine when it came to interacting with fans. She responded to jinnielikestitties in the private chat, fingers flying across her keyboard, for you honey just 500 while out loud, she hummed. “I don’t know, aki. It sounds like you’re going to be everybody’s big hero for the night, so you get to choose.”

Almost instantly, the sound clip indicating a massive donation blasted through the computer speakers. In the main chat, akibangerooni sent an animated emote of GeeBeeSeeBee flashing her gold star nipple pasties at the camera. It was accompanied by a glowing notification of the donation.

It wasn’t that SinB needed the money. She just wanted to avoid setting an expectation that models were working on CamDream for free. In fact, she most often ended her show nights by going into incognito mode and re-donating her earnings for the night to any other models she found herself attracted to. She liked watching their reactions to the big numbers.

“Five thousand spades?! Did you see that everybody? This fuckin perv aki wants me naked!”

Pulling the important chat window to the side to see the other one, SinB smirked at the enormous wave of randos exclaiming their horniness into oblivion. There were a couple hundred of them now. The things they said would earn them a set of swift kicks in real life, but in the GeeBeeSeeBee chat they were not only welcome but enthusiastically encouraged.

SinB didn’t really bother reading the reactions in either chat. She knew what they were saying. And having chatted with akibangerooni on numerous occasions, she knew what the answer to her next question would be. But still, she wanted to ask, and see his direct feedback.

“So aki, you gross, filthy boy. Do you want a sexy little strip tease, or do you want me naked as fast as I can get naked?”

The private donation for five hundred spades came in from jinnielikestitties, and SinB opened up a view for her webcam on monitor three. Jinnie was a chubby girl with exceptionally cute eyes that made SinB want to cream instantly. She also liked to play with her hefty tits while SinB passively watched. She was just the first of a dozen or so cams that SinB would have simultaneously open by the end of the night. SinB didn’t say anything out loud to avoid embarrassing her, but gave her a subtle thumbs up and watched for her to do the same.

“No strip tease?! Nakey nakey tits and bakey it is then! You dirty beast.”

A few more minor donations came in while SinB practically ripped her way out of her clothes. Ten spades a piece, good for one light spank each. They were so commonplace that she never even acknowledged them out loud.

SinB’s skin crawled in the most wonderful way as she sat back down. The viewer count had already jumped to three hundred and thirty-eight. Every one of those eyes, intent on drinking in every bare inch of her. Those ears, eagerly awaiting her pleasured moans. Hands on more than three hundred cocks or pussies in her honor. SinB recalled an interview in which someone had implied that idols got a sort of high off of a crowd. The implication wasn’t wrong. It was a rush. The kind of rush that soaked SinB’s panties—or lack thereof—and demanded that she fill her pussy with something. But she still had a donor to please.

“Sorry aki,” she said, “These shoes weren’t made for quick extraction, ya know?” Of course, the crowd could entertain themselves with her jiggling, perky tits while she struggled. She still had a buckle and half a dozen straps to get through on each shoe.

Halfway through the first shoe, SinB was interrupted by another large donation. It was another of her lovers, CertifiedCoomerboy. Two thousand spades. The regulars were dumping their wallets. The message was public, and was already getting positive feedback: hey can you plz show us your feet while you do that?

SinB’s first instinct was to do what he asked. She leaned back and started to lift her knee, but she paused to curse Yerin out in her head for almost definitely being the one to incept the foot fetish into her lover’s mind two weeks earlier. She wondered if it had been incepted into hers too. She had opted for a pedicure earlier in the day and had thoroughly enjoyed it. If she’d let her mind wander, the foot massage might have made SinB put her hand down her pant—

“Yeah! Yup! Sure can! Just let me, uh…”

After a bit of experimentation with the angle in the camera, SinB propped one leg up on the opposite knee. With the shoe removed, she wiggled her toes inches away from the camera. Her toenail polish was pink, like on her fingers, but darker. Yerin had suggested the color.

SinB smacked her forehead. She shouldn't have let Yerin go with her. Now it was going to be obvious. But of course, Yerin had figured her out already.

"I got a pedicure today, so you fuckin better appreciate this, CCB!"

Another message with a smaller donation came up from him. yes mistress gbsb! I love your toes so much

"Then you shouldn't be typing. You should have both hands on your cock. Imagine it between my feet." SinB didn’t know where her ranting was coming from. "My, uh… soles squeezing down on either side. Stare at my toes until your mind goes numb, because I had them painted up all pretty just for you, lovers."

She stared at herself in the preview cam, wondering if that was taking it too far. With a shake of her head, she shifted to the other foot, angling it similarly to the first and slowly removing the straps. She knew she should go faster, per akibangerooni's request, but she suddenly wanted to see the reaction to her foot play. Surely he'd understand.

More ten spade donations. She kept a tally in her head. Viewer count was nearly four hundred.

"What are your thoughts on my heels? Like, mine, not the shoes."

All positive messages from her regulars. Except for BiggusDickus. He was normally so enthusiastic. She couldn’t imagine why he wasn't online, same as the last show. Strange. Maybe he had work.

Finally, SinB flicked her shoe off. "Hmmm. I haven't thought about foot stuff with all my girlies yet. What would I do? Rub their pussies with the pads of my feet? My shoe size may be small but I don't know if I can get these inside anyone."

A groan played in her in-ear. Jinnie was pinching her nipples. SinB grinned and was about to comment when a third private chat window appeared with a truly obscene donation of twenty thousand spades. It was from HyperSlut_GodHo. That bitch Yerin. Wooow SinB. Since when did you start liking your feet? Want me to play with you? Your feet are super cyoooot!

For the first time ever, SinB ignored a private donation.

"Enough of this, lovers! I have a story for you tonight! Before I get started…" she trailed off and got back up to her knees, facing away. She gave herself a slap on the ass. Hardly a real smack, but enough to ripple her butt cutely. "Let's see… that's one. Two. Three." It wasn't even remotely painful, even after working her way through all sixteen miniature donations.

She got another, public this time, from jinnielikestitties. It didn’t require a message, as three hundred thirty-three spades was on her donation guide, listed as "one hand nipple play."

"Thank you, Jinnie baby," is all she had to say to get another groan.

SinB leaned against the back of her set, legs spread wide, but she refused herself the pleasure of touching her clit. She had to wait. Let the crowd control her. The thrill started to build again. "Where to start? I got fucked so good two days ago."

Something SinB was willing to admit to was that she didn't actually like having her nipples played with. They were sensitive, and her partners tended to pay too much attention to them. But a request from a lover was law. She started on the right side, lightly pinching and twisting. She winced, but still moaned like a whore for the audience. Of course, she liked that her nipples were appreciated. They were incredibly cute and tiny. SinB preferred ones that looked more like Jinnie's, though, broad and deliciously dark.

"It was unplanned. We were in a mall. She was helping me pick out a new umbrella, of all things, when I realized that… God, I was just sooo fucking horny."

More small-scale donations. More viewers. SinB lifted her legs, putting her ass in view without blocking line of sight to her right boob. She spanked herself seven times and continued her mostly accurate story. “So I dragged her into a dressing room in the Second Ring shop, pushed her against the wall, and pulled down her pants.”

Another pop-up chat. Another regular asking for their camera to be turned on. Another donation made. Another camera feed opened. He was a scrawny guy with a shockingly large dick and sharp jawline. SinB gave him the thumbs up, and he returned it. A quiet moan came through from Jinnie. “Oh yes…” The night’s worldwide circle jerk was beginning with SinB at its center.

“I’ve told you about this girl before too, last month. She’s a futa, with a dick the size of my whole damn arm.”

Another camera open. SinB didn’t recognize this man. She almost giggled at his muscles overcompensating for his small penis. But he was doing his part to add to her fantasy, which is all he needed to do.

“Good thing for her I’ve been practicing my dick sucking technique.”

A sixty-seven spade donation message appeared from a new person. They visited for the first time during her last show. SinB was glad they came back after that. Sixty-seven spades was listed as 1-min funny talk (specify), and the message said pant like a bitch.

“Uuungh,” SinB moaned, interspersing long, exaggerated breaths every few words, “I slicked her up with, uuugh, my tongue as best as I could, uuugh, but she was just so big! Mmmf!” Even if they were fake, her own moans were getting her even deeper in the mood.

SinB described the blowjob in more and more detail, sometimes repeating aspects of it in greater, lewder detail. Hums of pleasure became “slutty gags,” while a tiny bit of precum became “gallons of jizz.” Of course, the entire time she avoided the most accurate version of the truth, which was that she gave Eunseo the shortest, most timid, and most nerve-wracking blowjob of all time in the least-populated, least-staffed store they could find, and Eunseo didn’t cum.

Wow. This sounds pretty over the top for you, Sin. I would love to watch you blow someone like that. The HyperSlut_GodHo private chat forced its way to the front every time a new message from her came through. The only way to stop it would be to ban Yerin from the chat. But SinB couldn’t bring herself to do it. Banning a friend would be a dick move, even if they were watching her masturbate as part of a crowd of nearly a thousand.

Eight cameras were open on monitor three by the time SinB finished her smutty story. Some absolute saint that SinB wasn’t familiar with paid for a “finisher” near the end, meaning SinB got to grab the bullet vibrator, tape it to her clit, and turn it on the highest setting until she came. And she was close. Watching eight people stroke or pump themselves off to her, some of them even having cum already, holding their cum-drenched hands up for her to see in full view, was driving SinB mad. She struggled to keep an eye open as her climax built, sucked her own fingers, spread her pussy, planted her feet firmly in the rug’s fluff. It was coming. The best part of every show night. She was coming. The only thing that could stop it would be…

HyperSlut_GodHo’s donation of exactly six hundred sixty-six thousand, six hundred and sixty-six spades.

The vibrator shut off unceremoniously. It was just plain off. Some guy in one of the camera windows actually said “What” as if that wasn’t the only word on SinB’s mind. She screamed it too, seconds later, “WHAT?!”

Nobody had ever stopped a “finisher” before. Sure, they could request smaller denials, like “stop fingering” or “pinch your thigh” but SinB had specifically made the “finisher denial” prohibitively expensive. It wasn’t just “dang, that’s a lot” kind of money required for that many spades. It was the kind of money that could change the lives of the grand majority of models on CamDream or any other similar website. The ridiculous, life-altering cost was meant to ensure that nobody would ever try to interrupt one of SinB’s ridiculous, mind-altering orgasms. She wanted a jelly brain! Why wasn’t her brain jelly?!

The main chat was dead. The cams were silent. Even the background chat of horny non-contributors was moving significantly more slowly. After a moment, Jinnie started to speak, her voice electrified by her poor-quality microphone, “D-did the battery go o—”

Jinnie was interrupted by a blast of noise. A loud, low, seductive woman’s giggle. Every model on CamDream hoped to hear that laugh a few times a year, but often only heard it once or twice in their career. “Lilith’s Cheer,” or so it was called, was just one of the many sounds that played for donations. In this case, for donations larger than fifty thousand spades. But for how much Yerin paid, the sound should have been a reading of HyperSlut_GodHo’s public message. Sorry! No cummies for you yet!

SinB screamed incoherently, torn between screaming about not cumming and just finishing herself off, and screaming about the money. It was all still a performance. Models didn’t get on CamDream for nothing. She struggled to find words. Something that would put Yerin in her place without giving everything away.

“Ff-- Th-thank you!” She failed. Her head, entirely deprived of orgasm, swam with rage. But she couldn’t stop. “Thank… Thank you so m-much! Oh god, that’s… so much. Th-thank you, H-HyperSlut! Thank you, thank you, thank y-you!”

She grabbed her keyboard. Her mind was only partially jelly, but her fingers felt weak, so her typing was slow and mostly utilized the muscles of her forearms. She navigated to HyperSlut_GodHo’s private chat and smashed the worst, most capitalized profanities and insults she could hazily imagine into the poor, helpless keys. FUCK. YOU; STUPI CUNT; GET BAK HRRE nOW; ILL RIP YU A NEW TWATS; YOU WANA DIE ThAT BADHUH; UR SPINE WILL B MY DILDO

And yet, her mouth continued to pour out the gratitude like a bitter wine. It’s what any normal person would do when given approximately two years’ salary all at once. “Thank you so fucking much! I ca-- I can’t believe it. Thank you!” SinB wondered if she was going to develop a complex from the thankful, angry, horny trichotomy.

Meanwhile, the chats were back up and running at full speed. Everybody was understandably—frustratingly—expressing thanks and admiration to HyperSlut_GodHo. Even the virtually-present audience of webcammers were wiping jizz and lube off their hands to type big props to GeeBeeSeeBee’s new, most generous patron. Yerin ignored SinB’s messages to respond to the main chat with humility, spouting some shit about just trying to do her part for her favorite model, pseudo-lying about how she’d actually been watching for years.

After grumbling some of the anger out of her system, SinB attempted to move on. “Wow, that sure is amazing. Gosh… I don’t know what to do. Guess we should, um, continue with the cum show, hm?”

Some woman with her webcam on had the gall to laugh. But SinB realized she was just enjoying the performance in her own way. She gushed a little, and mentally begged for a humiliation kink to not become part of that new complex. Or a begging kink, for that matter. Shit.

“I-I mean, uh… should we let Ye-- HyperSlut control the sh-show... for the rest of the night?”

There were a couple of dissenters in the chat, but not nearly as many as SinB had hoped for. ya! i think she deserves; if she wants more feet I think so yes; Hell ye bro! I thought I was dono god but its her now!; noone gonna ? wer all the $ is from; cool with me; By all means.; lets do it"

SinB scowled. It's what her lovers wanted, her compliance could still be justified.

"Okay, but HyperSlut, if any more of my lovers donate, I may have to interrupt to do what they want."

Affirmations of love and appreciations of sluttiness scrolled by, along with one message from HyperSlut_GodHo. No pressure if the answer is no, but is there any chance you have a way to cover your face so you can get closer to the camera?

“Uhhh.” SinB’s eyes drifted over to her pile of sex toys. Normally she would say no, but as long as the option was available, she might as well agree. Of fucking course she would Chekhov herself.

“Um, yeah. I do. Give me a sec.”

The mask felt heavy in her hands, like it was full of impending regrets, scandals, and at least one ended career. But she had effectively two years of wages available to cash in from spades now if all went poorly, so she figured it would all be worth at least one incredible orgasm. The mask felt much lighter once it was secured around her cheeks. Obviously, regrets, scandals, and careers were technically abstract concepts with no physical weight to them.

SinB checked herself out in her face cam first, verifying that every angle she could manage to see herself in wouldn’t show enough of her face to reveal her identity. It was strange how such a simple covering was such an efficient disguise. She barely recognized herself.

“Okay, lovers. You all better f-fucking compliment my lipstick.”

It was like the start of a new show. Every person on monitor three was leaning toward their screen, already masturbating furiously. SinB’s heart raced. They were all so excited. That made SinB excited. There went the cycle again. She didn’t even have the patience to count down from three.

Showtime!

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[highladyluck]

Wheel of Time 01x08 liveblog

Teaser:

The R.O.U.S.es are a myth, but the Man-Eating Fungus is very real

ooops, the dark one's prison broke the nice china

HOLY SHIT [this response encompasses everything from 'that armor is awesome' to 'they really did ball gag the damane' to 'that tidal wave sure is symbolic']

I love hearing the Old Tongue!!! [in my notes I wrote "One Power" XD but this is what I meant]

Interesting... Latra Posae Decumae is Tamyrlin?

Oh, that hurts, LTT trying to make the world safe for his kids.

This is the crystal spires and togas I was promised! It gives me Star Wars vibes.

The R.O.U.S.es are a myth, but the Man-Eating Fungus is very real

An Educational Field Trip With Moiraine Sedai

I'm shipping Perrin/Rand again I'm so sorry

Moiraine cutting Rand dead in the Fire Swamp like "we're not friends"

I love that we get Nyneave's tracking skills

Oh that is a cool effect (of Ishy's fireface zooming into his eyeball)

Ishy is kinda sexy

Wow that is extremely homoerotic

This is very Star Wars- first the AOL, then the dream confrontation in the swamp

Holy shit, Rand. Suicide to wake up? hooooo boy

lol I see they know how sa'angreal were made in this turning XD (oh interesting... is that a saidin one? How would the tower know? I guess there is precedent for sa'angreal that use both halves of the OP.)

Nyneave's block appears to be... sort of a thing?

I feel like Rand and Moiraine both walk into traps deliberately

loool, that you, Elaida? Moiraine had a block? ooooof Moiraine :(

bad things afoot for Nyn (or she will explode again)

is Lord Yakota supposed to be Ingtar? Are we getting Ingtar?

COOL love a decorative pit

ah, the beginning of Rand's Complex

glad we got the shot of Lan and Malkier

Oh dear. Is... Lord Agelmar the darkfriend? or just... that specific brand of Borderland Masculinity? So hard to say

Darkfriends... in... the White Tower libraries? Are you going to unpack that statement, Moiraine? BLACK AJAH Y'ALL

my HEART when Rand touches the Ancient Aes Sedai symbol

lotta babies in this ep

YESSSSSSSS FLICKER FLICKER

ok, she got shielded, only shielded, phew... hopefully

I prefer this defense of Fal Dara to the book version (although I have to ask... are they cribbing from @asha-mage‘s work again? because this reminded me of parts of Of The Mountain Home.)

great music

Nyneave's significant glance at the Malkieri woman, heh

Perrin & Loial having a heart to heart

Rand like "this characterization is bad, Egwene would never give up her career"

Rand is so clever, but Ishy knows what's in his head

Moiraine is a stabby bitch and I love her

Wtf is buried under the throne?

ooof I hope the darkfriend isn't Amalisa

and this is where Rand is like 'shit, the list of people who can teach me channeling is very small and one of them might be the Dark One'

Ishy, tuck in your damn shirt

Aaaaaaay it's Fain

What? The fucking horn is there?

Circles!

Oh damn, Perrin the Hornsounder? They wouldn't... would they?

Saidin is clean! oh wait... oh, Rand

Amalisa, I hope you know what you are doing and that it isn't evil

Ok, that is some cool shit ...but Amalisa has gone power-mad, whoopsie Love how it kinda parallels the battle in Rand's head rn

This Rand drinks his respect women juice (for now, anyway)

awww sweetie

oh no, are they gonna make Perrin stab Lady Amalisa?

SHIT Padan Fain daggered Loial & Nyn is... hopefully not burned out

aaaaaaay it's gonna be the Hunt for the Horny next season

NO MY BABY MAT, stumbling drunkenly in a dark alley with a stab wound [like, typical, but not what I want for him, you know?]

Rand is off to brood and maybe grab Mat

Perrin is losing at head games, as per usual

Moiraine is staring at the pretty rocks & lying for her boy

SHIT. I was afraid of [her being stilled]. Nyn better be ok, because who else is gonna heal stilling? [Spouse thinks she's just got a tied-off shield since Lan isn't showing signs of the bond being actually broken]

Damn look at Egg with the fancy fixing [eyes emoji]

ooops, the dark one's prison broke the nice china

that's so many [ships] JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

THE SEANCHAN THEME

HOLY SHIT [this response encompasses everything from 'that armor is awesome' to 'they really did ball gag the damane' to 'that tidal wave sure is symbolic']

Post-show, me discussing how I wasn't expecting the taint: "I mean, the corruption. We can't call it the taint anymore." My spouse, immediately: "The Seanchan call it the taint."

[realcube]

CELEBRATING YOUR BIRTHDAY 

characters ♡ bokuto, tendō, matsukawa & suna

tw ♡ gn! reader, timeskip! bokuto (all sfw tho), swearing, reader wears makeup (matsukawa), swearing, mentions of death & food 

cred ♡ thanks to anon for this request <3

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO

♡ he was literally counting down the days to your birthday, he even took the day off practise to celebrate it with you so imagine his surprise when the special day finally rolls around and he wakes up to an empty bed

♡ at first, he thought that perhaps you were just around the house somewhere but nope, the place was completely empty and even worse, all signs pointed to his theory that you had gone to work/school on your birthday 

♡ outraged. he was absolutely outraged. 

♡ firstly, he tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up, even after his many attempts so his next resort to call your place of work/school reception 

♡ obviously he managed to get a hold of you then-

♡ he was originally gonna yell about how you lied to him about taking the day off on your birthday but there was no way he could be angry at you — almost ever — so instead, he made the quick decision of telling you to have a nice day before hanging up 

♡ you were kinda pissed that he wasted your time like that but how could you stay mad at him? he’s fkn adorable! he blew you audible kisses over the phone for good luck!

♡ you laboured your way through the day, putting in great effort yet through it all, the only thing on your mind was how much you wanted to just pass out on the couch with bokuto as soon as you got home. you weren’t even sure if you had the energy to change into your pjyamas.

♡ however, when you finally did arrive home, there was no need to put yourself through the onerous task of changing clothes as the first thing you were greeted by when you stepped foot in your own home was a chorus of cheers of ‘surprise!’ followed by people spilling out into the foyer from the kitchen and living room 

♡ then there was bokuto, the loudest of them all leading the crowd, blowing into the party horn while dashing up to, throwing his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, ‘happy birthday, sweetie!’

♡ a light gasp escaped your lips at the sudden hoots, and the unfamiliar — and frankly uncomfortable — sight of many friends swarm towards you had you on edge but when you felt bokuto wrap you in his warm embrace, you knew you were home

♡ he held you close until you were forced apart by many guests tearing you away to personally wish you a happy birthday

♡ now that the initial shock had died down, you noticed that there wasn’t as many people present as you thought, it was a humble gathering of all your closest friends 

♡ there was a massive pile of bright-colored gifts lying on the stairs, and it was hard not to immediately acknowledge them as the sheer mass and number of the presents scattered across the steps prevented anyone from being able to go upstairs

♡ the following day, you were made aware of the fact 90% of those presents were addressed from ‘your best ace husband ;)’ which was pretty straight-forward considering you only have one husband; kiyoomi sakusa. 

♡ jokes, you married bokuto but sakusa was also at the party. he originally just wanted to drop off his gift then leave but bokuto persuaded him to stay, though he seemed to be regretting it now as almost everyone at the party now shared an unspoken goal to slam sakusa’s face into one of the cupcakes that decorated the circumference of your cake

♡ speaking of the cake, bokuto remembered what type of cake was your favorite from the wedding planning and he was so chuffed with himself. in fact, he was so confident in his cake picking ability that he ordered a massive 3-tier monster of a dessert 

♡ neither of you would be able to finish it before it goes bad so you ended up cutting it up into pieces  and sending each guest away with a little goody-bag with a slice of cake inside lmao 

♡ once you had finished your goodbyes and everyone had filed out of your home, you flopped onto the couch and let out a deep sigh of relief. well, it was only a sigh for a few moment as it became a wheeze when bokuto laid down on top of you 

♡ ‘happy birthday, (y/n). i’m sorry if i tired you out.’ he hummed, fiddling with your fingers as his lips curled into a shaky smile

♡ ‘i’m a bit sleepy but i had an amazing time. thank you so much, kō.’

♡ bokuto smiled, his heavy lid falling shut as he finally rested his neck, being able to fall asleep comfortably now that you’ve told him that you had fun

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ unlike bokuto, he’ll actually mention your birthday a few weeks prior to the celebration so he can plan the perfect date :3

♡ ‘so do you wanna go to the aquarium or the theme park? because i know we’ve went to the park before but they remodelled it apparently. plus, maybe the aquarium is a bit underwhelming for such a special day, but it’s up to yo--’

♡ ‘we won’t really get to spend much time in either. if you consider the time school finishes, the train ride and the time the aquarium and park closes so maybe we could just chill at my house instead.’

♡ tendō deadpanned for a moment, the most unamused look taking over his features until he suddenly burst out laughing, cackling as if you just told the joke of the century, ‘seriously, (y/n)? you’re gonna go to school on your birthday.’

♡ ‘yes, of course.’ you replied in all seriousness, resulting in tendō awkwardly beginning to stifle his chuckles.

♡ he frowned, slumping back into the seat beside you, ‘c’mon, it’s your birthday, though! you deserve the day off.’

♡ you shook your head, kindly declining his suggestion, ‘i have a test on that day.’

♡ ‘all the more reason to ditch!’

♡ now it was your turn to deadpan

♡ tendō tossed his head back while letting out a sigh  of defeat, draping his arm around your shoulder to lovingly pull you to his chest, ‘alright, then. whatever you want, dear.’

♡ you smiled, glad that you didn’t need to disagree with him any longer — and you were even happier on the day. even though you insisted that he keeps things small on your birthday, he still managed to find a way to make things extra asf by getting you a massive plush that was about half the size of your stature and a hamper of homemade chocolates ><

ISSEI MATSUKAWA 

♡ honestly, he’s never been the best at giving gifts but he tries extra hard for you 

♡ like if you off-handedly say that you are cold during class, he’ll buy you a bunch of new jackets, jumpers and gloves

♡ or if you say you need more mascara, he’ll buy you exact same one you usually wear 

♡ he’s observant enough to notice and remember the exact shade and brands of all your cosmetic products but he’s not observant enough to pick up on the subtle hints you drop as to what you want for your birthday 

♡ you can never guess what he’s gonna get you and that adds to your anticipation for the day 

♡ if your birthday is on a school day, he’ll bring in a batch of homemade cupcakes (which hanamaki helped him with) and stick a candle in one of them for you to blow out 

♡ he offers you one but they are all pretty stale- just smile and nod while your teeth feel like they are being shattered trying to bite down on the cupcake 

♡ it might set off the fire alarm but oh well, just count that as another present

♡ oikawa will probably get you something like a bouquet and try flirt with you so at that point, matsukawa and hanamaki begin using the cupcakes as weapons 

♡ they are a two for one deal so you’re going to be spending the day with both of them tailing you like lost puppies

platonic RINTARŌ SUNA

♡ (requester specified) your birthday is on the same day as his so ofc he’s going to be a little salty abt it 

♡ you both created a game to see who receives the most birthday wishes and whoever won gets ¥1500 from the loser’s birthday money

♡ for the past few years, he’s usually been the winner by just a few but this year, you made it a point to befriend all him teammates in order to ensure victory 

♡ having to pretend to be friendly with atsumu — who wasn’t very good at hiding his massive crush —was definitely a challenge but you powered through 

♡ in fact, you may have played the role too well as both the miya twins gave you a gift 

♡ osamu gave both you and suna a plastic bag filled with some food he made and water bottles

♡ as for atsumu, his gift to you was a massive hamper filled with an assortment of many different luxury confectionary which didn’t look cheap at all but it didn’t feel appropriate to question the price so you simply took it from him with a bright smile

♡ of course, suna was excited (and very hungry) as he expected the same gift but he was more than disappointed when all he received was a bag of chips and a slap on the back

♡ he goes out of his way to tell every teacher it’s your birthday in hopes that they’ll make the class sing happy birthday to you 

♡ but it pisses him off to no end when you add that it’s his birthday too so he ends up getting roped into your misery 

♡ also your thumbs are going to be sore at night swiping through all the various candid pics that suna took of you throughout the day (in less than flattering poses) which he uplaoded to almost all of his social media stories with stupid ass captions 

♡ but dw bc he’ll eventually post a nice photo of you with a sweet message

♡ ‘happy birthday to @(y/n) . i would die for you, bitch (even though you annoy the hell out of me every single day 🤠).’ 

[xneens]

thank u, next (ft. loki)

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: A new team member in the group shakes things up for the super soldier.

Or: In which Steve casts you aside for a Carter only to regret his decision when he sees you with the God of Mischief.

"Yeet."

Swiveling your chair, you saw the empty pint of ice cream hit garbage can, bouncing off the rim and dropping on the floor with a light thump. You looked at Tony, shaking your head. "You've been hanging out with Peter too much."

"Why, thank you." Tony replied, smirking at you. "So, tell me, you sexy vixen, how do you feel with Thor bringing Loki? You were quiet during the whole argument that almost ended with Barton ripping out his eye."

You shrugged, the heels Tony had bought earlier drawing your attention to your feet. "I'm fine. I don't really care, I mean, I wasn't with you guys when New York happened so I don't really think I get to have an opinion about whether the mind-controlled God of Lies gets a spot in the team."

"You realize your on the team, right? I'm pretty sure your opinion matters especially with the mass murderer joining." Tony replied, accidentally hitting himself with the candy cane in his hands. "I really thought you were going to side with Cap on this one. You always do."

It wasn't a secret that Steve Rogers wasn't completely on board with the plan. That was pushing it; in other words: Steve Rogers despised the plan. If he could kill it, he would've. When Thor had proposed the plan to bring Loki on the team (a punishment from Odin himself)—trying to convince everyone he was "good" now—less than a handful had let him continue speaking. The rest wanted to riot. You had just sat there, a smirk on your face as you watched the six of them fight with each other while Fury shook his head, looking like a disappointed father.

When everyone had came to an agreement on Loki's trial period, there had been pages of rules on what he was restricted on doing including magic and stabbing. Of course, it was very specific so even the God of Mischief couldn't find a loophole. Maybe he could if he tried, which he probably will.

Clicking your tongue, you shrugged, ignoring the little pang in your chest. "Not on this. I'm smart enough to see that there's more reward than risk to have Loki on the team. For example: he's not bad to look at."

Tony choked on his candy cane, coughing up a large piece. With wide eyes, he studied you in silence, trying to figure out if you had been joking. "Are you serious? We should bring you to Helen so you can get your head checked. There's a chance you might have a concussion from the last mission."

"You have eyes, you can see how regal he is despite not genuinely being born royal. And those cheekbones..." you trailed off, biting your lip at Loki's handsome features. Tony raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head. "Not that his perfect bone structure justifies all the people he's killed. I'm just very observant being an avenger and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." Tony mumbled, leaning back on his chair, his eyes narrowing after your confession. "Ms. Natalia Romanoff didn't get the chance to tell me what happened between you and old Capsicle."

Rolling your eyes, you spun around in your chair, facing away from the nosy billionaire. "There's not that much to tell. We talked, we liked each other, then the sun came up and reality set in as the form of Sharon Carter. It didn't take long for him to ditch me to go for Peggy's niece. Anyways, been there, done that. People change."

"You're not the same girl I met." Tony stated. "On that note, Rogers' old brain is still defrosting and he's getting older so I don't think he knows how stupid he is...yet."

"And I'm not going to wait for him to find out." you muttered, a loud sound coming from the big yard. Looking through the garage window, you saw the blinding light before two figures in different colored capes appeared, the blinding light ruining the fresh-cut grass. Beaming at Tony, you got up. "Want to plan a party with me?"

"You say that like I'd have the ability to say no. Tonight?" Tony replied, grinning at thought of loud electronic dance music and booze.

Getting up, the stilettos clicked on the floor, your perfect pedicure peeking through the hole. Smiling, you walked towards the door. "Well, we are in the presence of two Gods. I think it's only fair we celebrate like it."

"I'm putting Party in the USA on the track-list!"

Rushing to the lawn where the rest of the team gathered, your mood was lightened by the sight of the golden haired retriever in disguised as a jacked God. Ignoring the others, you threw yourself at Thor, the God of Thunder catching you, arms tightening around your body. You let out a breathless laugh, momentarily forgetting your idiotic plan to avoid Steve. "Thor!"

Thor guffawed, lifting you off the ground, shouting your name in glee before letting you breathe again. "My favorite avenger! Miss me?"

"Duh." you responded, glancing at Loki, who had magically changed into an all-black suit, his shoulder length raven-colored hair slicked back. His eyes narrowed slightly at the team who had defeated him. He looked even better in person. "So, that's Loki."

Natasha spoke up before either Asgardian could. She stepped closer, observing him with you. "Not sure. He isn't as smug as before—"

"And he's missing those horrendous reindeer horns he was wearing." Clint chimed in, crossing his arms. His hate for Loki—which had increased when he found out the man who once controlled him was coming to the team—was almost as deep as Steve's. "He looks like a witch in that black suit."

Thor snickered, releasing Loki from the handcuffs that held him. "As you all know, my adopted brother's punishment from Father is to help Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Loki understands all the rules, and he will so follow them accordingly. Isn't that right, brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes, sighing before reluctantly nodding. "Yes, I will."

"Let me make this clear, Loki." Steve stepped up, Sharon right behind him, face composed. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the couple. "If you break one rule, no matter how small, you will be sent back to Asgard and face Odin's alternate punishment. Just so you're clear, we won't hesitate to send you back."

The God of Mischief smirked, feeling smug knowing he could push the super soldier's buttons. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules enforced."

Everyone could sense the sarcasm and mockery in his voice, all of them tensing. Thor sighed, clapping his brother on the back, the force making Loki take a steps forward. "Come on, brother. I'll show you your quarters before you get punched by Lady Natasha."

Without waiting for Loki to answer, Thor practically pulled Loki's arm off, pulling him towards the building, crossing the ruined lawn that Tony would bitch about later. Everyone followed them, staying a few feet back, wary of the new team member. You noticed Steve stealing glances at you, quickly moving away from Sharon's side and made his way to you.

Without being too obvious, you squeezed your way between Bruce and Natasha, snaking your arms between there's, hoping it would give Steve the impression not to talk to you. Ever. Natasha threw you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your wrist while Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

Thor continued talking about the new compound, leading his brother to the entrance while pointing out installments that would've seemed impressive to a simple "midgardian."

He might've unconsciously murdered people but he kinda thicc.

At that exact moment, Loki turned around, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. His smirk grew, glancing between you and Steve before turning back. It had been so quick that you weren't sure it even happened. The group scattered as soon as they stepped a foot inside; Bruce heading to the lab, Steve following him while Sharon split and headed up to Medbay, Natasha hitting the gym with Clint, leaving you alone with Thor and Loki.

Unfortunately, Thor's room had been across yours, the empty room next to yours becoming Loki's so both a spy and a god could keep an eye on the trickster. Both Tony and Steve had fought on that, Steve concerned about your safety while Tony argued back, telling him you could keep yourself safe. If not, Thor was there. That had angered you; Steve didn't think you were capable of fighting off Loki if it came to it, and that made you roll your eyes at him, exiting the room.

"...and this will be your quarters. Decorate it any way you want, just no magic." Thor continued, reaching the area of your rooms. It was a big arc, the area looking like a semi-circle with three doors spaced evenly out. "My chambers is across Lady Y/N's, so we won't have any problems. She's a smart one, brother. Anything else to add, Sunshine?"

You ignored the nickname, eyes narrowing at the black-suited man. "There's a party tonight 'celebrating' the addition to the team. It starts at 8 so don't be late or else Tony will have your head. Also, if you wake me up before seven in the morning, watch your back 'cause I hold grudges."

Giving Thor a smile, you head to your room, closing the door with a sigh. On the other side, you heard Loki chuckle once. "I like her."

"She's serious. She almost ripped my heart out the one time I accidentally woke her from her slumber." Thor added, the clap on his brother's back loud. "Get ready for the party, Loki."

Loki had been forced in his room by his brother, the door closing after him. He listened carefully, hearing you plop on your bed. He bit back a smirk, a plan unfolding in his brain. With a swift gesture of a finger, the room had been decorated, the hideous white theme changing into an exact copy of Loki's bedroom in Asgard.

The day went by fast as you wasted it away planning the party with Tony, who had, in no way, helped. You had ran off to your room once the people Tony had hired came, setting up everything in the main room. As you walked to the three-bedroom wing, you saw Steve rocking back and forth in front of your door, his hands in his pocket while Thor gushed about his flying hammer.

Relief washed over his face as soon as he spotted you, and you almost turned around, wishing you had gone to Natasha's room to get ready.

Steve called out your name, abruptly ending his conversation with Thor. As you walked closer, you could see the concern etched on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Thor watched your reaction, your face fighting the urge to make a face at America's sweetheart. Maneuvering your body, you slid between the two men to get to your room. "I'm fun-fucking-tastic. Thor, remind Loki about the party. I didn't spend the whole day with Tony for Loki to miss his own party."

"I'll be there, darling." Loki chimed in, his head poking out of his bedroom. Everyone turned to look at him, seeing the not-so-subtle wink he gave you.

Ignoring Steve's clenched fists, you moved past them, entering your room. Before closing the door, you said, "Tony requests the presence of all three of you, by the way. There's no way you're getting out of this. See you at 8!"

With a sighed of relief, you closed the door in Steve's face, the loud slam cutting off whatever he was about to interject. He could talk to Sharon about whatever shit he was dealing with, the girl he chose. You were no longer someone he could vent to after the shit he pulled, leading you on before leaving for Sharon Carter. It was then that you came to the decision to not love so easily.

Getting ready for the party took longer than you thought it would, the hot shower burning your skin to the point your skin started to redden. Your mind wandered to Loki, curios about the wink. Maybe it was his way of messing with people, a loophole that had not been included in the agreement. Realizing how inappropriate it was to think about the God while showering, you quickly turned the water off and stepped out.

Knowing Natasha, she's be disappointed if you didn't dress up like your inner slut, the one that got fucked up in Tokyo, and the petty hoe who would do everything to make Steve Rogers regret his decision. Well, you weren't going to let your sestra down.

The sultry, tight red dress was almost too short to be considered decent. With it's low cropped top, your tits we're begging for attention, the bra non-existent. Your new motto: protect the city, free the titties. The matching red stilettos would've been a pain if you hadn't started wearing them so early in your life. You let your hair down, running hand through it before slapping some natural makeup on your face, trying not to look desperate for attention.

It was around 8:15 when you finally finished, already exhausted by the amount of work you had to put on for others, but mostly for yourself. Either Tony or Natasha would come barreling through your door if you were going to be any later. Rushing, you took a quick look in the mirror before opening your door, nearly bumping into the God of Mischief.

He was dressed in a black buttoned-downed dress shirt with matching dress pants. Like before, his hair was slicked back, the shoulder length, raven hair looking silky and sexy. You both eye each other, eyes appreciating the sight in front of them. It wasn't until you finally met his eyes that he cleared his throat, a smug smile covering half his face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the party, Lady Y/N? My brother is an idiot and cannot give a proper tour with his minuscule organ that he calls a brain. As of that, I do not know where this celebration is held." Loki explained, holding out his arm, waiting for you to take it. He raised an eyebrow while you hesitated. "If not, I could just follow you and everyone would assume I'm planning to have your head."

"Jesus Christ, you and Thor are so fucking dramatic." you grumbled, taking Loki's arm, your arm snaking around his. "Must run in the family, huh?"

"I'm adopted."

"I don't care."

Loki darkly chuckled, feeling your warm body against his, letting himself grow closer, enough that he could feel more of you but not enough that you would've noticed. "I sincerely hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you look rather ravishing, darling."

"Have you ever thought of cutting your hair?" you replied, loving the way Loki's smug expression wavered—probably expecting a compliment—before composing himself. "You'd look less like Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean."

"I don't understand." Loki said, leading you towards the elevator. For someone who claimed they didn't know where they were headed, he had the sense of knowing where everything was.

You waved the pop culture reference away, pushing the elevator button. "You wouldn't. Is Thor already at the party?"

"I'm quite positive."

The rest of the walk to the main room was quiet, neither of you making small talk as you led him. More like, he led you. You were suspicious he had stayed back and faked not knowing the compound in order to mess with you. But you waved that thought away, focus on getting distracting yourself from Steve.

You could hear the party before seeing it, the big room had been half full, not too much, not too little, yet you had been surprised considering how extra Tony could be. Letting go of Loki's arm, you walked to the bar where Natasha was sipping a glass of whiskey, ignoring the rest of the party. She pulled out a bottle of gin as you arrived, raising an eyebrow at your accompanied date.

"Before you say anything, he didn't know where the party was so he asked me to guide him. Nicely if I might add." you said, pushing back the bottle, settling on a bottle of water instead.

Natasha smirked, watching Loki interact with his brother, a frown deepening on his face. "He knows where everything is, Thor gave him the whole tour while you were with Tony. Can't believe you took the bait."

"Ugh." you grumbled, wishing you could forget about tomorrow and drown your problems in alcohol but the last hangover nearly killed you.

"Stevie doesn't look to happy with you showing up with Loki." Natasha noticed, the smirk widening as she watched Steve's glare grew more lethal as Loki's grin got bigger. "This is so much better than America's Next Top Models fails. Do you wanna bet that one of them will punch the other before the party is over?"

"Daddy, chill." you mimicked, turning to see how enraged old Capsicle is. But with the blonde besides him, looking up him in both wonder and worry, he had no right to be angry at Loki for attending a party that had been thrown for him, despite the many people he murdered—while being controlled. "He can't seriously still be sour about Loki joining."

The redhead giggled, a little drunk from the amount of alcohol she already consumed. "I don't think that's what he's so broody about, not anymore at least. He was smiling until he saw you on Loki's arm."

"Ain't my fault he chose Peggy's niece over me, meaning he doesn't get to be jealous whether Loki is my date or a walker for these killer stilettos." you muttered, secretly loving and hating the jealousy that oozed out of Steve Rogers. Even his blonde date had noticed. "Look at these heels, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Almost as gorgeous as you." Natasha replied, winking just before she drowned the rest of her drink. She winced a little at the taste.

"How many of those have you had?" you wondered, eyeing the spy. After the worst hangover of both your lives, Natasha had made you swear to never let her get that drunk again. Although with the rate she was going, you feared you had been too late.

She shrugged, taking your bottle of water. "Four. Oh, look, here comes Steve."

Before you could ditch, Steve leaned against the counter, his blue buttoned down shirt matching his blue eyes. Natasha not-so-subtly walked to the other side of the bar, motioning for Bruce to keep her company, although knowing her, she'd listen to every word.

"Rogers," you greeted coldly, looking everywhere but him. He tensed at your cold greeting, the frown looking permanently pressed on his face. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah."

Lie.

"Good."

You sat there for a good two minutes before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot onto the other. Steve coughed in his fist. "So...living near Loki isn't too much trouble, is it? He causing any trouble, yet?"

"Sweet as an angel." you replied sarcastically, wishing you were anywhere but here. Loki caught your eye, raising a hand to wave and the group that had been brave enough to be near him, gasped in shock, the noises audible across the room. Their reactions made you chuckle.

Steve cleared his throat, this time louder. "Would you like to dance?"

"Ask your girlfriend." you fired back, satisfied by the hurt on his face. After the stunt he pulled, leading you on only to stomp of your heart, you wanted to be selfish and make him suffer just a little bit. Thankful, Loki came to your rescue.

Ignoring Steve, he held out his arm once again, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the tense situation between you and Steve. But before he could utter a single word, Sharon decided it was the perfect time to come looking for Steve. She assessed the situation, awkwardly noting Loki's presence.

"Er, hello." Sharon said, standing in false bravery. She wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid of the God of Mischief.

Loki gave her a curt nod and held out a hand to you instead, easily fitting yours in his. He murmured your name, softly kissing your knuckles. "Would you like to dance? This is the first song that came on that has not made me want to tear my ears off."

"Why, yes, I would." you agreed with a grin, moving your body close to Loki as you reached the unofficial dance floor, everyone's eyes on the both of you, with shock and slight fear. You would've cackled at their reactions—and it looked like Loki wanted to, too—if you hadn't been raised with manners. "Thank you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words. "For what, if I may ask?"

"Saving me back there. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Not anymore." you explained, drinking in the warmth of his arm wrapping around your waist as you both slowly swayed to the slow song.

The raven-haired God smiled—not the smug smirk he wore, but a genuine one that Thor hadn't seen his brother wear for a few years now. "My pleasure. A lady like you deserves someone who'll give her his undivided attention. Any suitor would be lucky to have a tenth of your attention."

A coping mechanism: you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help the small smile that forced itself on you lips. You bit it back, hoping no one had noticed.

Loki had. And he meant every word he said.

By the end of the night, you found yourself naked, against the wall and legs wrapped around Loki's waist. Lips crashed against one another, soft kisses trailing down necks, leaving little love marks that would surely be dark. But at the moment, you didn't care. Not when Loki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you from behind, above, underneath, and even on the side. You had both been teasing each other at the party and now you had given in, no matter the consequences.

—

Annoyed Steve had missed the date he had asked you on, you walked up to his room, heels clicking. You had waited for him for over two hours, texted him and getting no replies, leaving the restaurant with the humiliation of being stood up.

But as you neared his door, you heard crying. But it wasn't Steve. Peeking inside, you saw Sharon. Pretty, talented Sharon. Her eyes were red, tears steaming down her cheeks while Steve hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head as he comforted her. Jealousy and hurt knocked the breath out of you.

You waited.

And waited.

And it happened. Leaning in slowly, he kissed her. Softly, like he had kissed you. And she kissed him back, finding comfort in the kiss.

Heart breaking in two, you left, leaving the door open. The couple broke their kiss long enough to see you walk away through the slit of the door. Steve hung just head, feeling terrible. But Sharon had helped him as he had. This time, they hadn't stopped at kissing, forgetting the girl who had her heart broken by the man who claimed he would never hurt her.

Steve knew it was over between you two, but he could focus his attention on caring as much as he wanted to when Sharon kept kissing him. He did try to apologize only to learn you had went to visit Thor in Asgard, leaving him to feel sorry for himself and his decisions. Yet, he still found temporary comfort in Sharon's arms.

—

You woke to the warmth of Loki's arms around you. Opening your eyes, you found yourself tangled limbs with the God of Lies, your hair a mess, a hand over his chest and a leg over his waist. Your cheek rested on the crook of his neck, fitting perfectly as if he was made for you.

"Good morning." Loki whispered, stroking your hair with one hand, the other softly massaging your thigh. "Sleep well?"

Nuzzling into his neck, you snorted at the irony. "Don't know, considering we didn't do much sleeping."

Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "Touché. It would only be fair of me to apologize for the love marks I left on your soft skin last night. Forgive me but I could not help myself."

Gasping, you jumped up, looking at the vanity mirror across your bed to find your collarbone, neck, and the top of your breast covered in Loki's hickeys. He looked rather proud of himself than sorry. "Loki!"

"Please note my apologies are genuine when they are directed towards you. Although, I have to admit, I'm quite proud of myself. It's my best art." Loki announced, bringing himself up on his elbows, eyes ravaging your naked flesh, littered with his marks.

Noticing the difference between your bodies, you quickly turned around to see the reflections had been right; Loki's body remained unmarked. "I swear to god I left hickeys and bite marks all over you last night."

"You tried but got rather mad when my skin healed itself." Loki explained, pulling you back in his warm arms. The soft gesture surprised you, the whole situation coming into light. You had slept with Thor's murderous brother. Loki read your thoughts. "Don't be like that, love. What what I can remember, you enjoyed yourself last night quite immensely. If it will make you feel better, I can show all the love bites you made the night before."

Thankful you hadn't drank anything last night, you had been so happy to not wake up with a hangover and Loki. Turning to face him, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

With a smirk, his chest gleamed green for a second before it uncovered layers and layers of hickeys, and reddening bite marks. It was identical to yours. You gasped in shocked while Loki stared at you in amusement, his arms tightening. "You did a little bit of damage. I'm proud."

"Holy shit—" you were cut off by Thor and Steve bursting into your room, the sudden motion making you cover up your naked chest with a shriek. The two men's jaws dropped as they took in the scene, Loki's bare chest covered with the evidence from last night, his arms wrapped around you while you stared at them with wide eyes. "Knock, goddamnit!"

Both of them stood in silence, their brains not processing what was in front of them. Steve's eyes had mirrored yours from when you caught him kissing Sharon, eyes watering, you could see his heart breaking just by making eye contact. But at that moment, you couldn't find yourself to care, not with Loki's arms around you.

"What—" Thor began.

Loki smirked, kissing your bare shoulder. "Hello, brother."

next >

[akumajoaurora]

In regards to this excellent post, I’d also like to make a post on how I designed my own logo. Zenith’s post gives an excellent breakdown of what elements go into a VTuber logo and things to keep in mind, but not so much how one gets from an idea to a finished logo. So I wanted to share my process, which goes through most of the basic process I learned while studying graphic design in community college.

Before doing anything else, I had to do research. I knew the general style I was going for; I wanted to evoke the y2k aesthetic, or at least somewhere in the late 90s/early 2000s. In particular I wanted to evoke the bright, optimistic aesthetic of certain games I played as a kid (DDR, late 90s to early 2000s Sonic games, Kirby Air Ride, etc.), as well as the Eurobeat music genre, which I’m a big fan of and is part of my overall “theme”. 

(Granted, I mostly find myself streaming gothic horror-esque games, but... A bitch can contain multitudes)

So with these ideas in mind, I spent a lot of time looking at y2k graphic design, researching different logos (for example, I looked at some racing logos as well), and eventually I put together an inspiration sheet with logos I wanted to evoke. Not all of these are from the same period, but they have a lot of similar vibes

Do you see some of the common elements? Text in dense blocks, lots of bold outlines, often a sense of motion, blobby geometric shapes, sans-serif fonts, bright colors. These were some of the things I wanted to keep in mind for my logo.

With my research done, it was time to design the emblem. I really like motorcycles, and they’re... technically supposed to be part of my theme even though I always forget to post about them... So I wanted my emblem to be a motorcycle helmet. (This also fits in with the eurobeat theme, since racing and driving fast is a common theme of eurobeat lyrics, albeit usually about cars and not motorcycles lol.) I sketched out a few variations on what I had in mind.

I incorporated my horns into the design, since they’re a big part of yknow, me. I also tried a few different decorative elements; The shooting stars are a motif sometimes seen in y2k graphic design, and the fangs are meant to emphasize the demon thing. As for the triangle stripe with the star, it’s meant to evoke the flag of Puerto Rico, but also has a classic racing flair.

After examining the various options and getting input from my friends and family, I settled on the design on the lower right. Next step was doing the black and white lineart.

This is a really important step. A good logo should, ideally, work in plain black and white. Even if you’re limited to just one color, your logo should be readable; This can be useful for things such as printing, stickers and T-shirts, things like that. Ideally you should be able to slap your logo on anything regardless of technical limitations. Am I, or you, necessarily going to do these things? No, but it’s good to be prepared anyway. You never know! So it’s always good to have a black and white variant of your logo.

This is the design I ended up with. In keeping with the y2k/late 90s/early 2000s style, I used bold lines with heavy weight variation, rounded corners, and a double outline. Now if I were really trying to be professional about it, I would have done it in a vector program rather than Medibang Paint, but I fucking hate vector programs and the only person who needs the files here is me, so I can afford to be sloppy. There’s programs out there that’ll let you vectorize black and white images anyway, so eh.

Next, it was time to add color to the emblem. Again, I had a bunch of different options, so I made several variations and asked for input from my friends and family. (I also put the BW version in the corner for reference.)

I already had some standard colors I use in my model and my graphics, so it was really just a matter of deciding how to arrange them. By the way, you can really see in the shading just how much inspiration I took from 2000s Sonic the Hedgehog art! Don’t be afraid to take inspiration from things that mean a lot to you, or... Well, inspire you, lol.

Once again, I ended up choosing the last variation as my winning design. With the emblem done, the next step was choosing a font. Zenith’s post already has some great notes on choosing fonts, so I won’t go into too much detail there, but once again I chose several options and asked for input. Getting feedback from others is a really important part of the graphic design process. It helps you to learn what works and what doesn’t, especially when other people may have different backgrounds than you (Is one of your friends colorblind? Does your art effectively convey its message to someone who doesn’t have the same knowledge of design history? Etc).

I actually chose 15 different font options, but for the sake of brevity I’ll just show four of them.

In general it’s good practice to do variants in regular caps, no caps, and all caps, but I didn’t do that because uh... I don’t remember why. Anyway, I largely looked for y2k or racing fonts. Admittedly Excelorate is super cute, but I ended up going with Hemi Head, because it’s nice and readable. I believe it’s a popular font in the Eurobeat world as well? I know Odyssey uses it in her graphics sometimes, at least. In any case, it looks nice, it’s not too generic, and it’s really easy to read.

After choosing both an emblem and a typeface, it was time to combine them both into a logo. Again, I started with black and white, both because it’s useful to have and it’s also just easiest to add color later on.

I spent quite a lot of time fiddling with spacing and such to get it to look neat and tidy. I added a line at the bottom to add balance to an empty space, as well as a sense of motion. To tie it all together, I encapsulated it all in that big chunky outline we’ve seen so much of.

Finally, color. Since I already had a colored version of the emblem, it was pretty easy to build the rest of the logo’s colors from there. I incorporated the purple and pink gradient I’ve used for header text in a lot of my existing graphics, and again I added a fun outline, and... That was it! The logo was finally finished!

Now, I’m not claiming it’s the most perfect logo in the world. I’m sure there’s things to criticize about it, and plenty of people who just won’t find it appealing. But I think it looks alright, and above all else, I hope this breakdown of how I went from square one to a finished logo is helpful to those of you who may be looking to design your own. I encourage you to do other research as well, and again, to check out Zenith’s excellent post on VTuber logos. (It’s worth noting as well that VTuber logos often have a particular look to them that I personally chose not to go for, but Zenith’s tutorial does a good job of explaining how to achieve that look.)

As a bonus, here’s this thing I made while messing around and trying out different techniques that ended up looking hilariously like the iCarly logo, lmao.

[lions-ut-blog]

Drifter Revolver: Omega

This story has mentions of dark themes.

After appearing in a random AU, Redrix looks at the surrounding area to see a lush green forest. “Well, seeing a forest every once in a while is nice.” Grace appears beside Redrix with Evelyn by her. “Yeah, it’s a nice change from all the fighting.” Redrix nods. “Yeah. Let’s hope nothing or no one will appear and attack us.” Evelyn smiles. “Shall we explore?” Redrix looks at Evelyn and nods. “Let’s go. Smelling the fresh air would help destress me.” He takes his cracked knife out of its sheath and inspects the damage. “The crack is bad. Luckily, it didn’t break right away, I will have to buy a new one or have it reforged. If we go into a civilized AU.” Grace looks at the knife. “It’s still usable, right?” Redrix shakes his head. “No. One swing and it will break.” He puts it back and walks through the forest with Grace and Evelyn.

Somewhere in the forest, a female demon with long hair follows with the winds as she runs from something bare-footed. “I need to find a place to hide.” She looks around frantically for a bit and sees a ledge. “I hope it is deep enough.” She hops off the ledge into a big pit and lays on her back. A distant laugh sends shivers across her body as she covers her mouth. “Come out, come out wherever you are.~” The voice belongs to a male with a deep tone. “Don’t you want to reunite with your family, Samantha?~” Samantha feels something land on her lap and looks at it to see the dismembered head of one of her siblings as tears run down her cheeks and hugs it. The man looks around waiting to hear a voice after scattering the heads of Samantha’s family. “She isn’t here. Well, that’s a waste of good decoration. I will have to wipe out another village to replace those heads.” He stretches his wings and shoots through the forest.

After some time, Samantha peeks out of the pit and looks around to see if her assailant is still there. “He must be gone.” She gets out of the pit and sees the remains of her family on the ground. “Let me give you a proper burial.” She collects them and digs a hole big enough to put them in. “May you rest in peace.” She buries her family and prays for them. “And I hope you find serenity beyond this life.” Her body tenses as she hears a sound coming from one of the trees and looks around. “Who’s there?” A horned dark grey skeleton lands near Samantha with a fiery sword in hand. “Found you, lil Samantha.~” Samantha goes pale and turns around to see her assailant.

The assailant walks toward Samantha and sets the trees around them on fire. “Nowhere left to hide, nowhere left to run.” Samantha backs away and stops when she felt the heat of the flames against her back. “W-w-why did you attack my village? We didn’t do anything to you.” The assailant grins and spreads his wings. “Why? Because I want to see people suffer and smell the scent of fresh blood in the air along with the smell of burnt bodies. And it’s fun” He swings his sword and a fiery wave shoots at her. Samantha jumps to the side and barely avoids the attack with her skirt caught on fire. She puts down the fire on it and sees her skirt became partly burnt. “For fun? You wiped my village just for fun.” She looks at him as she clutches her fists.

The assailant chuckles. “What will you do about it? Scream for help? No one will hear your cries.” Gritting her teeth, a pair of black wings sprout out of Samantha’s back. “I will stop you myself.” The assailant rests his blade on his shoulder and cracks his neck. “Come, lil Samantha.” Samantha uses her wings to bolt toward him to strike him. The assailant steps aside as Samantha is about to hit him and slams her to the ground after pulling her hair. “Ha, you thought you would lay a hand on me you weak bitch.” He steps onto her chest and aims the edge of his sword at her neck. “You are not strong to face me. Let alone protecting your pitiful family.” He eyes Samantha’s body and grins. “But you will be an excellent slave for my boss.” Samantha struggles to lift his foot off her and spits on his face. “I rather die than be someone’s slave.” The assailant wipes the spit off with his jacket’s sleeve and stares at her with his empty eyesockets as he burns her clothes with his sword. “If you want to die, you will die without dignity like a bitch.” He raises his sword to strike her.

Samantha closes her eyes as she feels a breeze on her skin and the assailant’s foot off her. She opens one eye to see a man wearing an orange coat with his back to her. “Who are you?” The man looks at Samantha over his shoulder and tips his hat. “Name’s Redrix.” He notices char on the ground and gives his coat to her. “What happened, Madam?” Samantha wears it to cover herself and looks around to see the flames from earlier are gone. “I was attacked by a demon skeleton. And what happened to the fire?” Redrix looks at the skeleton he caved skull and points at him. “That one? As for the fire, I cut it before it spread any further.” Samantha stands and looks at where Redrix is pointing. “Yes, that’s him.” The assailant laughs and he stands as his skull reforms and looks at Redrix. “Not bad for a lookalike.” Redrix raises a brow. “What do you mean by that? And who are you?” The skeleton grin widens. “You can call me, Mason. And you are a version of my boss. Albeit weaker” Redrix cracks his fists and a set of orange gauntlets forms on his arms. “Yeah? Why don’t we see who’s weak, buddy?” He looks at Samantha. “Go hide, Madam.” Samatha nods as she notices Mason appears in front of Redrix. “Watch out!!” Redrix uses his blue magic to move Samantha away and blocks Mason’s attack.

Samantha rolls and holds the coat close. She watches Mason and Redrix exchange intense blows. “Their strengths are almost matched.” Redrix delivers a strong upper to Mason, sending him into the sky as he summons his blaster and follows him. Samantha stands and spreads her wings when she noticed someone from the corner of her eye. “???” She follows them and sees it was a grey child with a grey outfit. “Oh, hi there, little one. You must be lost, what’s your name?” The child, not older than nine, looks at Samantha with their gaping black sockets. “You can call Core!Frisk, Samantha.” Taken back by the response, Samantha composes herself. “What are you doing here, Core!Frisk?” Core!Frisk points somewhere in the forest. “Helping you and Redrix get into the omega timeline.” Samantha looks in the direction and gets confused. “How and what is the omega timeline?” Core!Frisk walks in the direction. “There cabin ahead. We will use its door as a gateway and hopefully, find some clothes for you.” Samantha follows them. “How do you know that?” Core!Frisk looks at Samantha over their shoulder. “I can see everything anywhere in the multiverse. For example, Redrix is using 3 different types of magic right now to fight Mason.” Their pace becomes faster.

After some time, Core!Frisk and Samantha arrive to the cabin. Samantha remembers the cabin as she looks at it. “This is my family’s cabin. I think I will find some of my mom’s clothes that fit me.” She heads inside and goes to her parents’ room as she looks through the closest. “Jackpot.” She finds a black jacket, white shirt, and black baggy pants and wears them along with a set of underwear. “Core!Frisk, where are you?” Core!Frisk appears in the bed behind Samantha. “I’m here and everywhere.” She rests her hand on the closest’s door as she’s startled by their sudden appearance and looks at them. “How’s Redrix right now?” Core!Frisk taps their chin. “So far, he’s been putting pressure but not for long.” Samantha grabs Redrix’s coat. “Well, that’s good. By the way, how do we access this omega timeline of yours?” Core!Frisk smiles. “By approaching any door and thinking about going there before opening said door.” They hop off the bed and exit the room. “Let’s go downstairs.” Samantha follows them downstairs. “Why?” Core!Frisk points at the roof as Redrix comes crashing through it. “That’s why.” Redrix coughs blood as he struggles to sit up. “Fuck..” He sees Samantha and Core!Frisk. “Who’s the little one?” Samantha goes to him and helps him up. “Their name is Core!Frisk. They say they are here to help.” Redrix groans and holds his side. “How would a child help us?” Core!Frisk walks to a door and opens it to a big town in the middle of a white void. “Like this. And we need to go quickly because Mason is coming.” Not having enough magic and not much of a choice, Redrix sighs reluctantly. “What choice do we have.” He and Samantha go through the door with Core!Frisk and it closes behind them.

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

[ Start - Previous - Next ]

Redrix, Grace, Evelyn, Samantha, and Mason belong to @lionwriters-blog and @lions-ut-blog (both are me)

Featured AUs/ATs and characters:

Core!Frisk and the (original) omega timeline belong to @corefrisk/@dokudoki (I apologize for any misrepresentation of your character)

[wonnoy]

yamaguchi and smart cars

i feel like if anyone were to own a smart car, it would be yamaguchi and it'd be white, so here's a short fic about it

[][]

it was one of those breezy summer days where it was the perfect temperature and everything just felt right. you were pulled up at a stop light, the hum of your smart car vibrating nicely in your ears. yes, your smart car.

it was bright yellow, had a top speed of 120mph and gear shifted like a bitch. but you absolutely adored it.

it was a gift from your mother when you finally got your license and you've been driving it for the past five years. student in college with no debt on your shoulder but still too poor to fix the poor transmission on your car. you were quite literally driving it into the grave.

you pushed your foot on the brake when coming to the red light at the intersection. you were first in the line, windows down, a pair of shades on and with your radio blasting music from the aux connected to your phone.

you were well aware that your car brought a lot of attention to itself, it wasn't a very popular car where you lived - excluding the bright yellow it already was. so you were used to the eyes it brought whenever you rolled up. sometimes, people even took pictures with you posing for them.

that was the extent of it.

your fingers drummed lazily against the steering wheel, the light you were currently at notoriously being the longest to sit at. you could barely hear yourself think over the music blasting from your abused speakers let alone the mans voice trying to get your attention. you reached for the volume, turned it down, and looked over to your left.

holy.

there was another smart car next to you, blindingly white with electric stamped right above the wheel and what looked to be a tiny volleyball over the 'i'.

iconic.

the guy yelling out your name was leaning over his friend in the passenger seat with his hand next to his mouth. he smiled brightly when he saw you finally looking at him. his hair was green, contrasting every other decoration in his car that you could spot (everything in there was white). with his freckles, he looked like a tanned strawberry. he looked like a tourist, a small little volleyball sparkling on his chest on a silver chain and a pink floral printed shirt. his shades were golden, perched right behind a spring of hair on his head.

you couldn't see his friend from the way that he was pressing himself into the passenger seat, but you could tell he was much taller than the car itself.

"your smart car looks so cool!" he called out to you and he stuck his thumb out, winking at you. you blushed a little. a cute guy, in a cute smart car, complimenting you? something like that has only happened in your dreams and you squashed those dreams maybe a year ago. you swallowed and gave a complimenting smile back towards him.

"why thank you," you said, "mr. carrot top," you teased, sliding your sunglasses down over your eyes. you could see his stunned expression though the tinted view of your glasses before his grin returned.

"your banana go kart can't compete with the white damba here," he laughed at you, pretending to caress the dashboard of his smartcar. you scoffed at him, pressing your foot down on the pedal. your car practically whined when you did that, mr. carrot top doesn't know who he's messing with.

to anyone else who was listening to you trying to race the 'white damba' (as he put it), someone would have laughed hysterically at you both. your car sounded like a toy car that you moved back for it shoot forward.

"you wanna bet?" you stuck your tongue out at him before glancing up at the light to check if it was still red. it felt like you've been here forever.

the guy looked at your and gripped his steering wheel looking away before making eye contact with you again, "you can't hear it, but i'm pressing on the petal too," he said with a cheeky smile. oh right, because it's electric. you barked out a small laugh before nodding your head at him. you felt giddy, as if you were middle school again by doing something so silly.

"what do i get if i win?" you looked back over at him, smile smile idly playing on your lips. you didn't miss the way he licked his.

"maybe i'll give you a kiss?" his thumb tapped on the wheel and his friend put a hand up to their head. you know for a fact that he was probably muttering something but you couldn't exactly hear it. you could imagine what this interaction was feeling like for his friend right now.

"that feels like more a reward for you if you win, how about your number instead?" you winked again at him. you looked up quickly at the red light you sat at, seeing other cars start to slow down in front of you. you would be moving again soon.

"first one to the wendy's parking lot wins then?" he pushed his glasses down over his eyes and looked forward again, both hands gripping the wheel again. you snorted lightly before getting ready to race him too. you were pretty sure you knew which wendy's he was talking about.

the cars that were passing in front of you had fully stopped now and you knew it was any millisecond now when it would finally be your turn. you took one last glance at carrot top before looking back and the light turning green.

your foot slammed so quick on the pedal and your poor little tires worked so hard the moment you did that - you were more than certain that you left little tire marks on ground. the whine of your engine was anything but quiet and you lurched back into your seat with whatever horsepower your car had. the needle on your dashboard went into the red zone, something that you've never accomplished.

next to you, you could see the white damba zoom a little quicker than your car and you grit your teeth. a kiss from him doesn't sound bad (and you were sure that it wouldn't feel bad either) but you, for one, would hate to lose. your car pushed you forward with every gear shift, elbows chicken-boning each time it did.

it hadn't been longer than six seconds until you finally pulled out level with the white damba, not even sparing a glance at it's cute driver. instead focusing on the quickly approaching wendy's sign. your speedometer was pushing into the 50's now with 45 being the speed limit for the road you were currently on.

you were only hoping that there were no cops around or speed cameras out to catch your license plate number.

you had barely just pulled ahead of the white damba before your indicator was on and you drifted into the wendy's parking lot. you were more than certain that you would have to take your poor car to the mechanic after this whole ordeal. you narrowly missed the light pole in the parking lot trying to park your quickly with the white damba following your exact moves. the adrenaline was pumping through more than just your veins, making your heart throb.

you tried to keep your breaths even, more alarm by yourself because of what you just did. racing a complete stranger because they were cute and in another smart car. is this all that it takes for you to be irrational?

a cute face? you looked in your rearview mirror watching the white damba pull up, you barely caught a glance of the man's face before it moved out of view.

you sighed heavily, yea, it was.

he pulled up next to him, honking his horn and it sounded exactly like a tiny honk coming from a child. you looked over at him, the cockiest smile that you could muster on your face.

"didn't think that you could beat me honestly," he said whilst unbuckling himself from his seat. his friend however didn't even move but you could hear him muttering again. the guy stepped out of his car and so you took the hint to do that same.

after stepping out, you placed a hand down on your hip, "so does this mean i get your number?" you grinned.

"can i at least tell you my name before you do? so it isn't just cool smart car guy?" he grinned at you. he's a bit of a smooth talker isn't he? you shook your head at him and smiled.

"the number will do," you reached through your window to grab your phone, "for now at least."

in the side mirror of your car you could see the guy fist bump the air furiously as in a way of victory. he acted so boyishly despite the devious flirting he was doing with you at the stop light. you pulled up the contacts on your phone and put in for the contact name 'race loser' before handing it to him.

"tha-" he stopped short seeing the name and frowned, "race loser? really?" he scoffed and typed his number in.

you sent a message to the phone hearing an instant cheap ringtone in response. was that his ringtone?

you jumped back into your car and waved back at him through the window. the carrot top went to the car window leaning into it.

"can i at least get your name?" he smiled at you. your heart lightly fluttered at the look of it before shaking your head - you were not about to give in so easily.

"sorry, but that wasn't apart of the bet,"

[][

cute, lol

[teacupfulofstarshine]

when you look at me with those eyes (i’m speechless)

summary: virgil finally manages to ask out the pretty enby in his class, just in time for his father's epic gala event. sadly, neither of them would know fashion if it bit them in the ass. luckily, they both have friends to help them out. 

(OR: almost 3k words of analogical being useless fluffy gays)

wordcount: 2934

ships: romantic analogical, background romantic roceit, background queerplatonic intruality, background romantic remile

cw: cursing 

read it on ao3!! 

“So, uh, wh - what do you say?” 

Logan looks up from their desk, homework long forgotten. Their left hand is stretched out to cover the little doodle they’d been doing of the back of Virgil’s head, and now Virgil himself is standing in front of them, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and looking anywhere except at Logan. He’s still wearing that patchwork purple plaid hoodie, and for some reason the only thing Logan can think of is that it’s definitely a violation of their school uniform. 

Virgil’s eyes skitter back to their face, skipping from their shoulder to their chest to their neck to their cheek. Their eyes meet for a moment, Virgil’s illuminated by the afternoon sunshine pouring in, and Logan forgets how to breathe. Virgil’s pink face gets even pinker, and his eyes settle on a point fixed above Logan’s shoulder. 

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” he snaps. “If you’re gonna reject me, just -”

“No!” Logan blurts. Virgil’s shoulders jump up to his ears, and Logan stands so fast their chair falls over behind them. “I - I mean - I’m not rejecting you, I - um - yes! Yes, I - I’d love to! That is to say - I - uh -” 

Virgil laughs a little, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of Logan’s hair behind their ear. They hadn’t even noticed that wisps had started escaping their high ponytail, but Virgil just smiles at them. “Cool,” he says. 

“Yes,” Logan breathes. “It - it is, objectively, quite ‘cool’.” 

“The event’s on Saturday night.” Virgil’s fingers tuck their hair behind their ear, gently tracing down the curve of their neck and sliding up to touch their jaw. “Pick you up around six PM or so?” 

Logan swallows, and they’re sure Virgil can hear it but he gives no indication if he did. “That - that sounds optimal.” They cringe inwardly - optimal? What the hell? - but Virgil just laughs and slides his hand up to cup their cheek. 

“You keep busting out all those smart-person words and I’m gonna have to kiss you before I buy you dinner, and that’s not very nice of me.” His hand drops from Logan’s face, and it takes all their willpower not to scream for him to put it back. He gently picks up their hand, lifting it to his bitten-raw lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back. “That’ll have to hold you over until then.” 

He turns and saunters away, and Logan grips the edge of their desk. They almost sit down on the chair they’d knocked over, catching themselves at the last second. Looking around the empty classroom, they catch sight of themselves reflected in the windows. They’d opted for a mixture of the uniforms today, wearing the boys’ shirt, vest, and tie over the girls’ skirt, knee-high stockings, and shoes. Their hair is tightly tied back with a plain hair tie, no ribbon, only one curl out of place where Virgil had tucked it behind their ear. 

They don’t typically dress themselves for much other than school (uniform), work (uniform), or home (casual clothing). They have no idea what they should wear for a date. Their phone buzzes on the desk, and they snatch it up quickly, flipping it open to see a message from Virgil. 

(They’d forgotten he had their number, from that project they did together last month.) 

You have: One! New message! 

FROM: Virgil 

hey, forgot to tell u - this gala is like, a bfd for my dads’ company, so dress up! like its prom or smthn, or a wedding 

Logan exhales, gathering up their school things and shoving them into their bag with an uncharacteristic haphazardness. This is going to require . . . outside intervention.

(Meanwhile, a few doors down, Virgil slams the door to his own classroom, shoves his face into his hands, and lets out the quietest feral screech he can manage. Derek, seated on the teacher’s desk with Roman pulled up between his legs, raises a single eyebrow.

“Is that a screech of success or a screech of failure, Virgil?”)

*~*~*~*~*

“What does one wear on a ‘fancy date’? I have never been to a wedding or a prom, let alone a gala! I do not own anything fancy!” Logan paces around their bedroom, hair hanging loose around their shoulders. Patton is on his back, hanging upside-down off of their bed and flipping through some sort of guitar catalog. Remus is curled up in Logan’s desk chair with some sort of slime in his hand. “Remus, if you get slime on my belongings I will end you.” 

Remus grins, looking deranged, and Logan resists the childish urge to throw something at him. 

“Don’t sweat it, Lo-Lo!” Patton says. “I’ve got a ton of pretty clothes in my room, you can borrow something from me! We’re still the same size, right?” 

“I assume so,” Logan says, “but what if I do not look right in your clothing? Our styles are vastly different, I would not wish to present a false impression of myself to him, I -”

“You worry too much!” Remus says. “Virge asked you out even though you’re a workaholic disaster who wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘relax’ if it bit him in the -”

“Remus!” Patton scolds, throwing one of Logan’s decorative constellation pillows at him. Remus bats it away with his foot. 

“Please do not throw things around,” Logan says tiredly. “Particularly my things.” 

“Sorry, Lo!” Remus does not apologize, but he does put the slime he’s been playing with back into its little plastic container. 

“Well, actually,” Patton says, flipping over onto his tummy, “it just so happens that I’ve been waiting for exactly this moment.” Logan looks at their twin in confusion. “I knew that eventually, there was gonna come a day where you would look at somebody and want to go on a date with them, whether it be a simple movie or a fancy date like this one, and you were gonna call me in here - didn’t know Remus would be here too, but he’s not unwelcome -”

“Thank you?” 

“- and you’d pace around and panic and go, ‘Patton! I don’t have anything optimal for this date, and our personal styles are so vastly different! What ever is there to be done?’” Patton flings one hand dramatically across his forehead like a Victorian woman fainting onto a couch. Logan raises one eyebrow. 

“So! I came up with the perfect solution! I’ve been secretly acquiring outfits for you! Stuff that you could wear for a variety of situations that you wouldn’t ever think of! We can mix and match to find something you like! Oh, and I also have a ton of unopened hypoallergenic makeup in a box in my closet!” 

Logan stares at him, blinking and trying to process everything Patton’s just told them. “You . .. you really did all that, for . . . for me?” 

“Yeah, of course I did! You’re my twin, Lo. I love you.” Patton smiles, bright and open and honest, and Logan blinks again, and suddenly their cheeks are wet. 

“Are you fucking crying because Patton is a considerate brother?!” Remus cackles. Logan whirls around, hiding their face and wiping at it frantically. “Oh my god, you are, I fucking called it, Roman owes me twenty bucks!” 

“You bet on this?” Patton asks, disapproving. Logan laughs a little, turning around to hug their twin. They can’t quite bring themselves to care about Remus’s gambling right now. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Why are you bitching?” Roman asks, pulling Derek’s hand up to his face. He’d forgotten his saline solution at his own house, so he’s wearing his old red glasses, bangs pulled up in a shitty unicorn-horn ponytail as he squints at Derek’s nails. Derek holds a book up with his free hand. “You managed to get them to go out with you, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I was awkward as fuck about it, Roman!” Virgil complains. He considers throwing something at Roman, or shoving a pillow over his face and screaming (again), but the deep indigo-purple polish on their fingernails is still drying. “I touched their hair, they probably think I’m a fucking creep!” 

“As someone with that exact reputation,” Derek says, “I highly doubt they would have agreed to accompany you on a date if they shared your sentiments about yourself.” 

“Yeah, but -”

“Lighten up a little, man,” Roman says, carefully stroking the yellow brush over Derek’s index nail. “You’re totally fucking with the vibe of the chill session.”

“What do you want me to do?! I told them to dress fancy cause we’re going somewhere nice, like I have any idea how to dress other than ‘crawled out of a dumpster and sewed together some punk band’s leftovers’!” 

“Why did you think you invited me?” Roman says haughtily. He’s imitating some YouTube video they’d watched earlier. “I’m the king of style!” 

“You’re the king of something,” Virgil mutters. 

“No, seriously, I’m gonna help you!” Roman says. “I’m sure you have something that looks half-decent buried in your closet, and I am nothing if not an expert in bringing things out of the closet.” Derek’s cheeks blush faintly pink, but he doesn’t say anything. “And Der here is amazing with makeup -”

“I wouldn’t say experience with stage makeup and covering my port wine stain makes me amazing or anything,” Derek begins. 

“Well I would, so shut the fuck up,” Roman says smoothly. Derek rolls his eyes and huffs fondly. “Seriously, Vee, did you really think we were gonna egg you on to ask the pretty nerd out for this long and then leave you high and dry when the time came to deliver the goods?” 

Virgil exhales, bringing his hands up to his face to examine his nails. “I think they’re dry . . .”

“Nice! Get over here, once I’m done with Derek’s base color I’m putting sparkles on you.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because it’s my house and I get to choose the bonding activity, god damn it.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?” Logan says, pulling their hair up into their traditional high ponytail. “What else am I supposed to do with it? I hate leaving it down, it feels bad on my neck -”

“I know,” Patton says, “but you can’t just put it in the same old ponytail you always do! This is a fancy gala event, you have to be fancy! ” 

“What else am I supposed to do with my hair?” 

“You will not do anything. I will do your hair,” Patton says firmly. “And by I, I mean Remus, because I’m not good at hair.” 

“Remus is not putting his hands, which have been god only knows where, in my clean hair.” 

“Rude!” Remus says. “I washed them three times today! You can inspect them if you want, I promise they’re clean!” Logan squints at his hands critically before sighing and settling into the chair in front of Patton’s vanity. 

“Very well.” 

Remus brushes through their hair and then combs it, carefully working through the knots while doing his best to preserve their natural curl. He separates two small wings and pins them out of the way before pulling the rest of Logan’s long curls into a mid-height ponytail and braiding it with surprisingly delicate fingers. He carefully twists the long braid up into a bun at the nape of Logan’s neck and pins it there with a gleaming silver hairpin tipped with a shining eight-point star with a dark blue jewel set in its center. 

Carefully, Remus unpins the locks of hair he’d set aside and braids them as well, weaving them into a crown of braids on Logan’s head and cleverly hiding the ends by pinning them into the braided bun. Finally, he pins back a few stray wispy curls with silver bobby pins that have star-shaped cubic zirconium on the ends. “Take a look!” 

Logan has had their eyes closed the entire time, quietly stimming with their hands. They open them slowly, looking in the mirror and tilting their head back and forth to see all of the work Remus has done. “Oh,” they say softly. “I love it, Remus. I look beautiful.” 

“You always look beautiful,” Remus says. “I’d ruffle your hair if I hadn’t spent so much time making it look decent.” Logan leans back, gently pressing their cheek against his shoulder. Remus huffs and mutters something about “gross affectionate shit,” but he still lets them do it. 

Patton breaks out the makeup after that, spinning the stool around so that Logan can’t see their own face in the mirror. “Alright, Lo! Time to accentuate your pretty face!” 

“That was a surprisingly accurate use of the word accentuate.” 

Patton just shrugs and grins at them. “I know big words!” 

*~*~*~*~*

“You look fine,” Roman says, pulling a strip of fabric around Virgil’s throat and beginning to knot it into a bowtie. Virgil can’t stop himself from looking over himself in the mirror one more time - dark black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, a deep purple vest that matches the polish on his nails, black and purple eyeshadow accompanied by dark red lipstick and sharp cheekbone contour courtesy of Derek. Roman pulls the purple-and-silver striped fabric of his bowtie into the final bow, and he smiles. 

“Don’t worry, Virge. I know you’re worried, but you look fine.” 

“You don’t look like a vampire at all,” Derek adds. Virgil hisses at him. “That is certainly going to help that image.” 

“Seriously,” Roman says, “don’t worry about my stupid boyfriend. Logan agreed to go out with you, and I’m sure they’re going to find you absolutely stunning.” 

Virgil rubs the back of his neck, blushing, because he knows that if he touches the hair Derek and Roman had combed and gelled and styled and wrestled with for the past thirty minutes they will collectively murder him without a second thought. Derek smiles, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Vee. Seriously. I know I mock you a lot, but you really do look good. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Virgil still feels nervous when he steps out of his car in front of the address Logan had given him. The lights are bright and cheerful, and when he knocks on the front door with his free hand, the door swings open eagerly. “Hello!” the man says cheerily. He’s wearing a pink tie and a brown cardigan, and he looks like Virgil expects Patton to in a few decades. “You must be Virgil!” 

“Uh, um, y-yes sir!” Virgil yelps. 

“Oh, you look precious! Remy, dearest, Logan’s date is here!” 

“Cool, babes,” a voice floats in from the kitchen. “I’ll take over the soup.” 

“Come on in! You can call me Emile, Lo is upstairs with Patton and Remus getting ready! Just wait here in the foyer, I’ll go up there and get them!” Emile hurries off up the stairs, and Virgil fidgets nervously with the flowers in his hand.

Patton all but slides down the bannister, grinning. “Are those for Lo?” 

“Y - yeah?”

“I’ll go get a vase out of the kitchen so they can put them in water before you two go!” Virgil pulls a single star-shaped lily bloom from the bouquet and spins it between his thumb and middle fingers. Emile comes hurrying down the stairs with a camera, sets himself up at the foot of the stairs, and shouts for Remus. 

“Finally,” Logan huffs, and then a door creaks open and shuffled footsteps approach the top of the stairs and then Virgil promptly forgets how to breathe. 

They look gorgeous. 

They have a crown of braids leading to a braided bun, studded with jewels that gleam like stars and a larger star pinning the bun back. They’re wearing the most beautiful dress Virgil has ever seen; the top is black, high-necked, and form-fitting, with short sleeves that are see-through ruffles of black gauzy material. The sleeves and the bodice are covered in sparkling silver rhinestones that look like stars in the night sky. There’s a silver band wrapped around their waist, and the skirt is made of layers of loose folds of fabric. The front comes down to their knees and the back comes down to their mid-calves, and the pattern is a soft blue-pink-purple galaxy color scheme. They have simple dark blue ballet flats on their feet, and as they get closer, what little breath Virgil had in his lungs is gone. 

Someone with experience has clearly done Logan’s makeup. Their eyes are coated in shimmery dark-blue-and-silver eyeshadow, eyes lined with soft smudged pencil and popping out of their face, freckles somehow still visible under the makeup. Their lips are glossy and pink and look so deliciously kissable that Virgil can barely restrain himself. 

“You look wonderful,” the vision in front of him says. 

“You - I - um - good!” Virgil stammers. Logan blushes, and Virgil thrusts the bouquet at them. “These - for you!” 

“Oh!” Logan takes the bouquet and smiles, and Virgil nearly passes out. “They’re beautiful! I -”

“I have a vase for you!” Patton chirps, hurrying in to take the bouquet and plop it into a vase. “I’ll leave it in your room!” Logan smiles, and Virgil reaches up to carefully tuck the lily behind their ear, into the carefully woven braids.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.” Logan flushes, smiling. 

“It makes sense that you would think that, since you cannot see yourself.” 

(Years later, at their wedding, Patton will tearfully and proudly recall how Logan and Virgil had been fifteen minutes late to the gala because Logan’s compliment had caused Virgil to faint from sheer gay joy.)