#it was just a tiny oneshot

[goldencuffs]

wait wait wait you wrote a captive prince fic that you deleted???? (I was stalking your replied and saw the anon reply to your ao3 lore and you said you delete the first fic you wrote for cp fandom( i cant believe there was a fic you wrote that I have not read Im gonna go cry ina corner rn,,…. Plspls tell me you still have it🥺 what was the premise sorry im so nosyhdjdj

hahahaha yes i had a fic, a very bad fic, that was only up for maybeeee 24 hours??? tbh i dont even remember but it was gone QUICK 😭😭😭

i dont have the fic anymore but TRUST me she was awful!!! it was my first time writing anything remotely creative (and fanfic in general) and it SUCKED

the premise was that laurent and damen are very handsy when drunk and nikandros suffers through it. and it was nikandros pov!!!

[robintherobiner]

@emperorsfoot made me come up with a really funny idea. (sorry about the tag i can get rid of it if you want :3 )

AU where Tim sees Bruce not dealing with his grief very well after losing Jason, so he googles ways to calm down, and instead of heading to the manor and telling Bruce he needs a Robin, Tim just hands him a joint.

"You to chill the fuck out, Bruce. Batman is supposed to be Gothams protector, you can't do that if you're beating up criminals to the point of permanent injuries for an offence as little as stealing food. So, take a chill pill. Or, actually. i didn't get you any pills but i can if you want-"

Boom. Instead of gaining another Robin, Batman gains a dealer, who doesn't accept cash, but instead counts 'nights without brutal beatings' as payment.

Within three months time, Tim is fully leaning into the act and uses 90's movies as his point of reference for how drug dealers should look, sound, and act. Goodbye Bristol Boy, meet T-Dawg.

[myokk]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @okeydokeylackey !!!! I LOVED YOUR SNIPPET & everyone should DEFINITELY check out your art/writing (I know I always love seeing it on my dash🥹🫶)

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

***DISCLAIMER THESE ARE ALL TYPED UP STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND UNEDITED BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH***

Oneshot:

A beetle slowly makes its way across Sebastian Sallow’s desk.

The classroom is silent - save for the scratching of quills furiously calculating the Arithmatic probability of who will be the next Minister and the quiet murmur of his professor as she helps Hobhouse (how did he even get into the N.E.W.T. level?) - and Sebastian is going absolutely mad.

He counts how many seconds it takes for the beetle to reach his abandoned quill (fifteen). But, when it takes its seventh step after making it over the quill (an auspicious sign), Sebastian slams his hand down on top of it.

The loud noise echoes through the silent classroom and Sebastian hears her snickering coming from behind him as the whole class turns to see what has happened. His ears turn red, he wishes he could jinx her somehow, and yet he is terribly curious to see what she has sent him this time. Sebastian hopes that everyone has gone back to their equations and stops staring at him, because now that it’s in his hands, his fingers are itching to open it. His hands eagerly - shamefully eager, if you ask him - unravel the note he’s crumpled up in his hands - almost a shame that he destroyed the beetle, it was one of her better creations - and Sebastian soon curses his haste.

His ears would be an even deeper shade of red were his blood not currently draining to a different part of his body. Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he continues reading the note, his eyes flying across the tiny note once, twice, three times before he crumples it up and adds it to the graveyard of the other notes she has been sending him all day. The words fuck my soaking cunt flash up at him and he adjusts his schoolbag so that if anyone walks past and looks into it, they won’t suspect a thing.

You see, this has been going on all day. Sebastian knew that when his seventh year started, it was going to the culmination of their academic rivalry, but he never expected this. That witch has made taunting him her personal vendetta, and it’s working.

Sebastian can’t get her out of his mind.

FIC - CHAPTER 25: (honestly I might delete this scene or save it for later)

She wanted him to hate her.

Hatred wasn’t what she saw in his eyes now, though.

Almost as if she were watching herself from afar, not in control of her body, Eloise came to a stop in front of Sebastian and looked down at him. The green light was highlighting his face and he looked ethereal, otherworldly. She watched her hand reach out and touch his cheek - hesitant, unsure - and when he didn’t jerk his head away as she expected - as she deserved - she moved to sit down next to him in the tiny space. Her knees bumped into his just like their noses bumped against each other as she moved her face towards his. Still, he didn’t move away.

She felt his warm breath fan across her lips. Maybe they stayed like that, lips not-quite-touching, for an eternity; maybe it was only a second. Eloise was only aware of Sebastian’s intoxicating presence, of the way his breath hitched when she finally bridged the gap between them, of the way her heart surrendered itself to him. This kiss was nothing like what they had shared before. It was hesitant, soft, sweet. His hands came up to her face, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss.

Eloise didn’t know what had gotten into her - she was supposed to be avoiding Sebastian, hating him, and yet she couldn’t pull herself out of his embrace. She was melting into his touch, his thumbs brushing themselves down her cheeks, her neck, fingers going through her hair, over and over as if to reassure himself of her presence, his lips moving languidly against hers. Eloise sighed into his mouth, almost-smiling but not-quite: she was nervous, as complicit as he was in this kiss, maybe even more, considering she had been the one to reach out first. But then -

Sebastian pulled away from her, puzzled, his hands moving back to cup Eloise’s face. He was saying something, rough thumbs gently brushing away the thick tears rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying?

NO PRESSURE TAGS: @holdmymallowsweet @writing-intheundercroft @morelikeravenbore @sav-less @gothic-lottie @kay9leo @celestial--sapphic @libellule-ao3 @anomalyaly AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO IT IM SERIOUS !!!!!!!!! I CAN NEVER THINK OF WHO TO TAG & I WOULD LOVE TO SEE LITTLE EXCERPTS OF YOUR WRITING🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[charaznablescanontoyota]

its 1 am do you guys want an infinity headcanon from my brain. i've said this elsewhere but i'm collating it finally. zagreus hadesgame and rachel animorphs are friends because the train always spawns zagreus into the fight your dad car (its like a bonus boss fight) and he rolls through the colosseum afterwards if he doesnt die. also zag can get off the train by dying he just goes back to hades but the train is now incorporated into the roguelike map so sometimes he goes through a weird door in tartarus and ends up back on the train. as you do

[johnslittlespoon]

Losing my mind over the “such a good little pup, aren’t you?” smut dialogue BUT- with CurtBuck >:)

Also “one more! Please!” from Curt bc I love a good needy Curt soooo much (and I can’t get over what you said the other day about Curt being whiny and needy compared to John’s feral and growly)

post life affirming sex, they all made it back from Algeria and John’s passed tf out from their previous fucking already and Curt’s so tired and already fucked out but he still has this current of energy running under his skin that he can’t help but squirm around until Gale questions him and he just lets out the sweetest little noise before begging and whining into Gale’s neck and Gale just manhandles Curt around so he can slide into him again, shushing him softly when he whimpers from the overstim of being fucked again but he needs it so bad

Anyway I’m actually insane and I desperately needed to entertain some CurtBuck thoughts soooo bad I just love the chemistry of those two together. John may be his partner in crime, but Gale is the steadying and grounding balance he needs too

- @mangokittokatsu

prompts | omg i'm so excited, i haven't written curtbuck outside of the throuple yet but i love them and they are so underrated, i'm so keen to explore their dynamic more <3 thank you for giving me an excuse to!! ~1k words of nsfw drabble below >:) edit: turned this into a full oneshot and posted it to ao3 :-)

Curt shifts on the sex–ruffled, sweat–damp bed sheets, heart rate slowly returning to a normal pace but still antsy from the buzz rippling up and down his spine, rumbling uncomfortably just below the surface of his skin.

John’s snoring quietly behind him, one long leg tangled with Curt’s, always finding a way to stay connected even in rest. Gale’s still awake, fingers combing through his hair in a way that only serves to stoke the flames lapping at his insides rather than settle them down to warm embers the way the gentle touch usually does.

Curt turns his face further into the gap between him and Gale, pressing his forehead against his warm chest, pulling himself closer with the arm draped over Gale’s waist and crowding into his space. He’s so tired that it feels like a herculean effort just to bridge the few inches, and yet he can’t help but squirm when Gale’s other hand flattens itself against his back, his palm feeling like a branding iron against his too–hot, too–restless body.

He presses his hips forward, raising his chin enough to mouth at the base of Gale’s neck, tasting the salt of summer heat that’s gathered there, whining quietly. The rumble against his lips when Gale chuckles low in his throat has his hips twitching, fingertips pressing into Gale’s back.

“What’s wrong, doll?” The gravelly voice does nothing to aid the frenzied feeling creeping beneath his skin, and he nips at Gale in retaliation, rocking forward into a firm thigh again when the hand in his hair tightens ever so slightly.

“Need more,” Curt huffs out a breath when Gale pulls his head back so he can get a good look at him, eyes bleary as he watches the corner of Gale’s mouth twitch with amusement and something akin to hunger.

“You can barely keep your eyes open, baby,” he coos, on the verge of teasing, and a whimper slips out before Curt can stop it.

“Just one more,” he breathes out, eyelashes fluttering as he rolls his hips, pretty certain that he can get himself off on Gale’s thigh if he keeps holding his hair tight like that. “Please, Gale.”

That’s enough to get Gale to move, always weak to his begging, hand firm on his hip as he rolls him over and pulls his back flush against his chest like it’s effortless. It makes Curt’s head spin, mumbling a dazed “fuck” as Gale manhandles him how he wants him, his eyes falling on John’s sleeping form.

“What a needy thing,” Gale hums next to his ear, fingers pressing into Curt’s mouth, and Curt dutifully wets them with a moan, though he’s not sure he could’ve stopped himself from drooling had he tried. Gale pulls his fingers out and reaches between them, taking himself into his hand, slicking himself back up before dragging the head of his cock in a teasing up and down over his hole, and Curt trembles, fingers twisting in the bed sheets.

“Please,” he whines again, pushing his hips back, and Gale takes pity on him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before sliding back into where he’d filled Curt up no more than twenty minutes prior. Curt eyes snap shut, head tilting back, mouth falling open in a choked out cry, verging on the edge of too–sensitive but simultaneously feeling the restlessness be smothered.

Gale hushes him softly, moving his hand to flatten over Curt’s stomach as he pulls him close enough that he’s really only gently rocking his hips into him, a painfully slow back and forth of his cock, but so good and so full, pressing right up against where Curt’s still aching for it even after taking both of them until he had been shaking.

“Oh,” Curt sighs out, clenching around Gale’s cock and feeling his hips stutter forward into him, shuddering at the groan he receives. 

“This what you needed, baby?” Gale grazes his teeth just below his jaw, and Curt nods desperately, rocking back against him, whimpering. The hand on his stomach presses down, and hot tears jump to the corners of his eyes at the sharp–sweet pleasure the added pressure grants him, feeling each drag inside him so much more intensely.

“Gale,” he gasps, writhing against the warm body behind him, hands tightening in the sheets.

“Such a good little pup, aren’t you?” Gale murmurs against his neck, and that’s enough for Curt to reach down and take his own cock into his hand, hissing at the sensitivity but needing the friction so bad that he fights through it, feeling the pillow dampen against the side of his face as tears finally leak out.

Gale pulls back a little more to drive in harder each time, still keeping his movements slow and deep, making sure it’s not too much for him, lips soft where he mouths at the crook of his neck. He rumbles against Curt’s skin, chasing gentle nips with the press of his tongue and light enough suction to not leave lasting marks, panting quiet encouragement and praise when his thrusts start to get messy.

He feels Gale nudge at his hand, knocking it out of the way and replacing it with his own, and Curt moans at the way the heat engulfs him, rocking his hips up into Gale’s hand and back against his cock, over and over as the honey–hot feeling in his stomach builds. It doesn’t take long before all his muscles are tensing, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his strangled sob, shaking hard as he jerks between Gale’s hand and body, making a mess over his knuckles.

Curt nearly convulses when Gale pushes in deep and goes still, spilling into him once again, filling him with a heat that feels like it oozes through his entire body, melting his bones down to nothing and turning his brain to mush as he chants desperate whimpers of Gale’s name into the pillow.

Fresh tears well up from the almost painful friction when he slides out of him a minute later, and he whines in complaint, but Gale leans over him and kisses him better, slow and soft with a hand cupping his face to help him tilt it to the side.

“You’re unreal,” Gale murmurs against his lips, and Curt still flushes, even after everything else.

(+ Curt wakes up in the morning to John working him open on his fingers because they all can’t get enough of each other as is, let alone after the scare that was Algeria, and he’s sore and tired but god does he ever need to be full of him again, so they take it slow and gentle and Gale wakes up to the sight of Curt absolutely enveloped by John’s broad body, and fuck, there they all go again.) (p.s. @mangokittokatsu i'm gonna be so real, i only have to see your @ to know i'm about to be knocked back in my chair by whatever words you decide to grace my inbox with LMAOO i hope this is a solid thanks for all the brainrot you share <3)

[life-despair-and-monsters-blog]

Kinktober Day 23 & 26: "Bondage/Restraints" & "Voyeurism/Exhibitionism" - For OTP: "Femme Fatale and the Apex" (Sonya x Jennifer)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @spookyrares @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins and @florbelles + anyone else who want to join.

Prompt based on this kinktober post made by fellow mutual @starsandskies. While the main Kink of this post is "Bondage/Restraints" & some "Voyeurism/Exhibitionism", there's also some minor inclusions of "Dirty Talk", "Orgasm Control", "Praise Kink", "Knife Play" and "Dom/Sub dynamic". I would have put down "Naked-Clothed" but the "clothed" person in question is an almost 10-foot tall cyborg beastie (with a human's brain) whose only covering is metal welded into the flesh so... SHRUG!

Anyway, SimpleGenius here from my Life, Despair & Monsters Blog. Just making my first contribution to Kinktober. I'm not really an excessive smut writer, though with that being said, I have written it on occasion, just never posting it (...until now). This is a oneshot devoted to Sonya and Jennifer just being their kinky selves.

From the mature tag and the title you can probably already guess that this oneshot (which will also be uploaded onto my AO3 as well) contains explicitly sexual content meant for 18+ users only. Minors Do Not Interact!

Here's some more warnings to scare off any stowaways.

CW: Explicit BDSM, Teasing/edging, stripping, (tail???) knife play, the equivalent of thigh riding for these two (but on Sonya's tail), naked female with not kind of non-naked female (there's like barbie physiques/anatomy involved with Sonya), and minor mention of a blood kink (unsurprisingly Jennifer's kind of a freak too). Basically monster-fucking (maybe robot-fucking? Or would it be cyborg-monster fucking???). A mix between praise and degradation kinks. Sexual fantasies. Really freaky behavior coming from these two. But very enthusiastic consent! Also vulgar language. And whatever else there is.

I’ve tried my best to research the sex aspect of it all, and even if I don’t believe it’s all accurate I think I did good with what I could find.

TW: Slight mentions of referenced murder and maybe cannibalism (Sonya's got a human brain inside a very non-human body so I don't know what lines that crosses). And minor implications of a toxic dynamic. They're both possessive people who suck so bad.

With that out of the way, I hope you do enjoy what I've written below the cut. This will officially be my first smut that I've publicly published. I'll be sure to reblog this post with the link to the one that'll be posted on my AO3. Also I'll be publishing another Kinktober Oneshot shortly after this one from my @the-silver-chronicles blog, about the main couple of that series, Silva and Faith. So don't be alarmed by a random ping from an icon you may or may not recognize.

Title: The Tails That Bind

Series: Life, Despair & Monsters (Love Death + Robots)

Character/s: Sonya/Sonnie | The Apex/Khanivore (re-interpreted canon character with OC qualities), Jennifer, Dicko (referenced in passing) and Sir Enigma Malvolio (referenced OC).

Words: 5,635

She heard her before she saw her; the click-clack of heels on marble closing in to their quarters.

Sonya remained where she was though; hanging from the ceiling in the expansive space that was refurbished to specifically accommodate her massive form, the high walls adorned with deep claw marks and scrapes she entrenched her talons and tail spikes into. Certainly, better than the restrictive pod or the dirty paddocks.

In contrast to her usual straightforwardness, when it came to dealing with her "mistress" of all people, Sonya made an effort in entertaining her more dramatic flairs.

If only to piss off the shrewd woman.

The door opened with such force that when Sonya peeked through her only optic, shutters uncoiling from her lens, to witness the blonde slam the door shut with a ferocity that immediately turned her on.

Someone's already pissy today, Sonya noted as she continued to observe with growing interest.

Jennifer turned around, short blonde hair barely touching her shoulders, noticeably a little frazzled with a few more wild strands curling out than usual. Her yellow rose still managed to survive staying pinned in her hair in spite of the fact Jennifer looked on the verge of ripping her hair out.

Her brows were furrowed, her face was scrunched in anger and a lovely snarl adorned her lips. Blue eyes darted to her white laced gloves, ripping them off as she mumbled curses under her breath. Sonya's optic lingered on the curves of her body, covered only by the golden dress Jennifer preferred to wear.

Sonya preferred when she didn't wear anything. Ogling Jennifer had been the closest her human brain could get to experiencing arousal within a body that wasn't designed to feel it. She had to get creative and tamper with many of the strange machinations and codes Malvolio left in her cursed Beastie body to at least have her body acknowledge the feelings.

In spite of this, she was still so far from reaching her goal of actually feeling the satisfactory conclusion of pleasure.

"-that old fuck!" Sonya was brought back to reality by the enraged outburst from Jennifer.

"Which old fuck are you referring to this time?" Sonya spoke in a voice more mature and sophisticated than her original gruff and accented voice, the crackling of the speaker embedded in her throat alerting Jennifer to the other presence in the room.

Jennifer's alarmed blue eyes pointedly gazed up to meet her gleaming red optic. However, she relaxed once she saw it was just Sonya, who uncoiled herself to lower her body, but refrained from leaving the ceiling just yet.

"It's one of Dicko's closer business partners," Jennifer told the Apex, kneeling down to take off her heels, "And I thought you were down in your workshop."

That doesn't narrow it down to who it is at all, Sonya wanted to retort, but chose to respond with, "I was, but it's so hot down there that I decided to seek out the coolest room I knew of."

"The wonders of an air con," Jennifer remarked, moving over to her vanity desk to set down her yellow rose from her hair.

Sonya rolled her optic at the snide comment, and returned her attention back to the source of Jennifer's sour mood, "Which one of Dicko's partners had it been? Ross or Carmen?"

"Ross. Carmen took a vacation, lucky bastard," Jennifer grumbled about the latter, though the former's name was spoken with disgust, "He was countering every proposition I made. Questioning my ability as a successor to Dicko's business. And attempting to belittle me in front of every one of those weak and cowardly geezers. The absolute gall!"

Sonya lowered herself above the bed, talons underneath her jaw as she watched her mistress rage. If she could, she'd be squeezing her thighs together to add a little friction. Unfortunately, her body wasn't included with genitals, and rubbing her thighs together in this body would just be pointless, so she could only visualize the image to force herself from screaming internally.

"The fucker was also leering at me. Almost all of them were," Jennifer continued, sitting down onto the foot of her massive mattress with a huff.

"I don't blame them," Sonya replied, extending her neck so her head was close above Jennifer, "Your body is desirable. You're probably the only woman in their life they can jack off to. I know that's what I'd be doing."

Jennifer abruptly turned with a face full of red; not blushing red, but pissed off red.

"Oh, fuck you," she replied, standing up to move away from Sonya and the bed.

"You'd have to beg me for that," Sonya said in a sing-song rhythm, chortling.

Jennfier crossed her arms as she stewed in her anger more, "This is serious. I know they're conspiring against me. Honestly, I wish I could have them all dead by tomorrow morning."

Sonya piqued at that, red optic widening with optimism.

"You know, if Ross is being so bothersome," she spoke up, her next words a suggestion, "I could eat him for you."

Jennifer turned to look at the beastie, opened her mouth to chide her, but closed it as she considered the idea, a smile crossing her lips, until a frown swiftly replaced it, and she shook her head.

"While I certainly wouldn't be against the idea," she told the Apex with sincere consideration, she rebuked the idea, "I can't just make an example out of him. At least not right now. I require his cooperation to gain access to his assets, and if I killed him now, it'd harm my reputation and standing with the other partners. And without them, we won't have a chance of finding Malvolio."

The very name of that... thing made Sonya's entire nervous system shudder, the dark thoughts resurfacing. She let them fester at the edge of her mind, before dispelling them back to the pits. She'll let them re-emerge once they found the creature; let him face the result of his violation towards her body.

Jennifer huffed out a sigh, which returned Sonya's attention back to her even as she went to make her leave, "I need to let off some steam."

Sonya tilted her head as she watched Jennifer pause just a step away from the door. The woman's blue eyes glanced back to the beastie, gaze following the Apex's elongated muscled arms, thick metal-plated tails, their twitching rattles near the piercing pincers and closed sharp jaw.

She bit her bottom lip, her hands slid down to her hips as she slowly strutted back over to Sonya.

"You know," Jennifer said as she reached the bed, "I just remembered how I never thanked you for stopping that assassin. And a good beast like you deserves a fitting reward for protecting her mistress so well."

Sonya cocked her head, red optic narrowing down at Jennifer. Sonya remembered the incident clearly; there had been a scorned bidder who lost because of Dicko's fateful mistake of convincing them to bet a lot of money against Malvolio. He managed to slip past Jennifer's guards and got too close for Sonya's liking.

Luckily, the Apex was on Jennifer's patrol guard, and she had spotted the glint of the knife before it had even left its sheath. Fittingly, she gave the man the same end she gave Dicko when saving her mistress; a biting introduction to her maw.

But that had been several weeks ago.

"Is that so?" Sonya inquired, wishing she had a brow to raise.

Jennifer only nodded, wetting her petite lips. She slid two fingers on both hands underneath her dress' loose straps, letting them fall limply down her arms to expose more skin. She reached behind her back, tugging the zip down behind her dress so she could loosen her front, exposing a small amount of cleavage to the Apex.

Sonya was surprised of her own self-control when her lens zoomed in on the skin, how calm and collected she managed to breathe. She restrained herself though; she had too much pride in herself to lay down and roll over like a dog.

No, she had a better idea.

"Oh, don't bullshit me with your "reasoning" darling, you just want me to fuck your brains out until you forget your own name and can't remember your troubles in the morning," Sonya retorts, her talons touching the ground as she leans over the bed, bringing her head closer to Jennifer's face.

There was no fear in her mistress' eyes, only a waiting expectation and a carnality that involuntarily made the Apex shake in excitement. Sonya continued, "If you think you can flatter me into getting between your legs, then I encourage you to resume because it is working."

Jennifer grinned in triumph as she proceeded to pull her zipper down further, but halted when Sonya added, "However, as I said before, it'll require you to beg."

Jennifer scoffed and shook her head, "I'm not doing that. You fuck me, or you don't. Your choice."

Despite her confidence, Sonya saw through her act and huffed out a disappointed steam of air as she started retracting backwards, "Oh well, I guess I won't-"

With her bluff blown, Jennifer's eyes widened as she reached forward for the Apex's face, pleading, "Wait! Fuck, fine, please fuck me. Please plow my pussy with your long, flexible and magnificent tongue until my mind goes blank. Make me scream your name each time you make me cum. I'll do anything you want, Sonya."

Sonya wished she could grin just as badly as she wished she could get wet right now.

She decided to put an end to her mistress' misery.

"Since you begged so desperately for it, I guess I have no choice but to fuck your brains out," Sonya concurred, and hummed, "But I'm curious... you'll do anything I want?"

Jennifer paused, narrowed her eyes in challenge, and responded, "Yes. I'll... try whatever you want, as long as I get fucked in the end. Sound like a fair exchange?"

Sonya nodded and tapped a talon on her chin in thought. There weren't much things her body could be used for during sex that wouldn't be detrimental to Jennifer's health, with exception to her tongue and the rattles under her curved blades that tipped her tails.

Although, she recalled the night she and Jennifer had met and began their cooperation, specifically to the moment where the Apex had Jennifer restrained with her tails, That has been something I've wanted to do again.

Gaining an idea, she replied, "You know, I've been wanting to try some bondage on you."

Jennifer's face scrunched in confusion until Sonya's tails disconnected from the walls and awaited by the Apex's sides. There were three in total, all tipped with dagger like pincers, and two rattles that resided near the curve of the blade, which she's been allowed to use like a vibrator before.

Jennifer once again bit her bottom lip while she thought of those around her body.

"I have no complaints," she tells the beastie, though frowns at the state of the bed, "Though I'm not getting naked until the bed's cleared of your mess."

Sonya knelt up so she could get a better look at the bed. Her optic immediately spotted the dust and chips of the ceiling that managed to fall down.

Without much patience, Sonya took the solution of using her tails to tip the bed to the side and shake off all the unwanted variables, before setting it back down normally.

"That better?" she asked.

Jennifer looked at the newest state of her large bed, which now lacked the pillows and blankets that were unceremoniously tossed off. Though seeing that the silk sheets remained on, all Jennifer responded with was a calm yet exasperated, "Sure."

Sonya positioned herself closer to the wall of the bed's frame, knelt down so she wouldn't cover most of the bed's space when her head laid down, while also keeping her tails free and ready.

Jennifer crawled onto the bed, swaying her body seductively while she made her way over to the Apex's head, which allowed the straps of her golden dress to loosen further down, just above her elbows. The front of her dress barely hung close to her chest, and Sonya swore she felt her brain overheat when her optic focused on the view of more of Jennifer's cleavage barely hidden by the loose clothes.

Jennifer got close enough to the Apex's face just to lean upwards until she sat at her bare heels, one hand going behind to zip her dress down the rest of the way, while the other kept the front of her dress from falling down. Sonya slightly tilted her head up so her optic could capture everything.

"I know how excited you've been for this," Jennifer purred as she gazed into the red hue of Sonya's optic, "I know you've been craving to see these again."

She pulled one strap down all the way, and then freed her arm of the other, before grabbing her the front of her dress and pulling the golden gown down, slightly jiggling free her petite perky tits. Sonya shook with a passionate eagerness at the visual image, just about all her mind could express through the body without pouncing onto Jennifer to forgo the bondage altogether.

She wanted to restrain herself, to prolong this just long enough to enjoy the experience and ensure she actually succeeds in listening to Jennifer's only demand.

"I know you've missed them," Jennifer swayed her chest, catching the Apex full attention. She grabbed hold of her breasts, massaging and giving her tits a pleasing yet playful squeeze as Sonya observed, winding herself up while putting on a show for her beastie. She gasped as she flicked her nipples, gently twisting them between her fingers as the tingling sensations caused her thighs to rub together.

She was enjoying herself now, and from how she looked at Sonya's quivering form, she knew the Apex enjoyed this show as well.

Jennifer stood up, dragging her hands over her breasts as she brought them across the skin of her body, the ticklish senses stirring a heat to coil within her. She performed a sensual dance in view of Sonya's optic, bringing her hands down to her hips where her dress hung closely, thumbs digging under the gown's hem, teasingly dragging it below her pelvis.

She spun around in her erotic sway, much to Sonya's surprise, but leaned down as she dragged the rest of her dress over her sexy ass, nothing worn underneath. She let the golden gown fall the rest of the way and glanced back at Sonya's now widened optic. With a pleased smirk, Jennifer gave herself a resounding smack against one of the cheeks.

Sonya's talons scraped against the marble floor. She clenched her jaw as she clutched hold over her fraying self-control, deciding that Jennifer's teasing needed to end here.

Thankfully, it was just about time Jennifer finished her little striptease for Sonya, and her blonde mistress knelt on her heels, dainty hands grabbing hold one of the alien protrusions coming out the Apex's head and underneath the narrow chin of her sharp jaw respectively, intentionally pressing her petite breasts against the optic as she leaned her head down to a small slit beside Sonya's frame to sultrily whisper in her audio receptors.

"What now, Sonnie?"

The lustful softness of her nickname snapped Sonya out of her patient observations, and she lifted her head up out of Jennifer's hold so her red optic could meet her mistress' blue eyes below.

"Now, I'll require you to turn around," Sonya instructed, her tails moving closer to the bed, "Make sure your arms are crossed behind you, and legs spread apart."

Jennifer turned around as instructed; not without doing a little show of shaking her ass temptingly as she settled into the position. Sonya was fueled with even more excitement of the opportunity of returning some teasing of her own.

Jennifer crossed her arms behind her, and Sonya immediately coiled her middle tail around the smaller woman's waist which then extended to her dainty hands, earning a surprise yelp from her mistress as her arms were secured tightly.

"Do you trust me?" Sonya let the question out softly at the shell of Jennifer's ear, her middle tail's blade carefully and gently stroking its cool steel-like tip down the human's back. The bladed pincer soon curved to brush one of mistress' lower cheeks, sensing her body clench at the sensual contact on instinct while the other tails began to coil under and around her thighs, "To release your doubts? To let go of all your inhibitions?"

With me, Sonya left unsaid. She shunned the thought... the very emotion infecting it, aside to the corners of her mind. No need to mix feelings with pleasure. Especially when she was nothing more than a thing to Jennifer...

As both tails snaked up from Jennifer's thighs to her upper body, the left pincer delicately scraped along her stomach while the right began to curl around her right breast with the blade leaving a ghost of a kiss to her jaw in passing.

Jennifer gasped out a light moan when her middle tail began to rub against her wet cunt, in a back and forth motion, ensuring the blade's sharpness did not touch the soft flesh. Soon the sleek metal was glistened with her slickness.

"Fuck, yes," Jennifer answered approvingly, rocking her wet cunt in unison of the tail. She bit her bottom lip to suppress another moan as the left and right tipped tails coiled around her tits, the appendages lightly playing with her breasts with deliberate twists and squeezes, the blades lightly kissing along the sensitive flesh.

Sonya focused on the priority of not piercing the skin with her tipped blades. She teased the flesh with an expertise akin to a surgeon, with her only intent of not cutting in and letting Jennifer bleed.

God forbid Jennifer cums early to the sight of her own blood because Sonya got sloppy. The Apex wanted to prolong this for her own sense of pleasure as well.

Soon her tails lifted up Jennifer, much to the smaller woman's surprise. Sonya raised her above the beastie's head, claws brought on to the bed in case the Apex had to catch her.

Slowly, she rotated Jennifer upside-down so her optic could get a better look at her reactions. To her delight, Jennifer squirmed in her grip, like last time. Unlike last time, the cause of her squirming came from the vibrating rattles that grazed closer to her swelling clit, the tipped blade positioned to poke above her trimmed blonde pubic hair.

Jennifer whined when the rattles on the left and right tails began to move, flicking her erect nipples between the vibrating pair on both coiled tails. She tried to arch her back into the vibrating sensations, as well as attempted to widen her legs so the rattles on the middle tail would have more space, but Sonya kept her restrained in position, brushing the rattles to her wet puffy pussy but never staying for long. She was completely at Sonya's mercy.

Much to the younger woman's growing frustration. A frustration that transitioned into a filthy, primal need.

Sonya was enticed by the desperate whines that escaped Jennifer's mouth, her red optic hungrily filling it's view of her elevated bare body; held up by her, restrained by her, receiving and being denied pleasure from her.

She focused on the blonde's gaping pouts, faint blush forming across her face, her blonde hair flowing downwards. Sonya's tongue flicked within her closed maw at the sight of sweat beginning to break from her mistress' body, who uselessly rutted her hips in the air to reach the teasing rattles, how pronounced her small breasts were from their bound state and the slick juices surrounding her pussy.

Sonya's entire system felt a fluctuation of pleasure within herself from the visual stimuli. It wouldn't be enough to ever reach a satisfying conclusion, though it was fun, nonetheless. When her audio receptors picked up pleading mewls coming from Jennifer, Sonya knew it was nearly time to settle her part of this exchange.

"What was that?" Sonya playfully inquired, listening to the words being interrupted by soft gasps whenever her rattles vibrated too close to her sensitive cunt and swollen clit, "I can't hear what you’re trying to say over such lewd sounds darling. Could you perhaps speak up?”

Through shaky breaths, Jennifer swallowed her murmured pleas and choked out a strained, "Sonya... I don't know how much longer I can do this. I want to cum. Please, it's unbearable, let me cum already. Stop teasing and fuck me!"

Sonya ate up her begging cries; she could see a glimpse of forming tears at her eyes. She briefly wondered if she should just wait long enough for her mistress to start crying, so she could bring out her tongue and lap up the falling tears. She hadn't kissed the woman's face with her tongue in a while, it could be a nice change of pace to show she cared-

As quickly as that idea came, Sonya dismissed the thought with a visceral fear? rejection. If she did that, then she wouldn't stop at the tasteful tears; she'd continue stroking her tongue along Jennifer's sweaty and salty unmarked flesh, until she got down to between her thighs and fed on the fluids there.

She could make Jennifer cry from pleasure then, sure; but she didn't want to use her tongue to have the woman undone, she wanted her mistress gushing from her very touch.

Sonya refocused on Jennifer once more, her helpless form cursing underneath her breath as her breasts were continuously played with while her pussy received nothing but teasing touches that edged her on but denied her true release.

Sonya hummed, feigning pondering in thought, as she took a sweet moment to bask in the wanton whimpers that were caused by her.

"How badly do you want this?" Sonya asked her, bringing her red optic to Jennifer's pleading blue eyes, "How desperate are you to want to be undone by a terrible beast like me? Say it..."

Those two husky, imploring, eager words made Jennifer shiver, feeling hotter. Through the haze, she rasped out with a sense of urgent need she's never spoken in before, "I can think of no one else who can satisfy me like you..."

Though caught off-guard, Sonya was not unsatisfied with the answer. She absorbed those words into the very core of her mind, sparking a renewed sense of determination.

"Well then," the beastie said, Jennifer's words lingering on the precipices of her audio receptors, feeling her "heart" pump faster, "I think you've endured enough teasing. You deserve this for being such a good, patient girl."

Jennifer shrieked in surprise when the vibrating rattles were buried against her slick folds and sensitive clit. However, when the initial shock wore off, it was replaced with an alluring moan, followed by a symphony of gasps, the short bursts of pleased shouts, and the sweet curses that she managed through her panting. She closed her eyes and started to arch her back again, and this time Sonya adjusted her tails grip to accommodate Jennifer's position.

It wouldn't be long until she was finished. Though Sonya decided to speed up the process by taking advantage of one of Jennifer's weaknesses; her voice.

"You should see yourself," Sonya husked out, her voice thick with lust, "How fucking enrapturing you are right now. Above here, bound by me, fucked by me, you look like a goddess. Oh, your little noises make it so tempting to ravish your flesh and pussy so I can make you scream louder."

Jennifer failed to suppress the whiny, pathetic whimper with a tender lip bite, and Sonya snickered at the reaction.

"Oh, but it's true," Sonya responded, the quills along her back standing up, elated by such noises as she continued, "Though I never realized how restraining you like this could bring out even more beautiful noises from you. I could just have you like this whenever you're being so bratty. Rip that dress off. Bind your limbs. Tease your wet cunt, edging it as you rut like a bitch in heat chasing after that final release. But it'll never come. More accurately, you'll never cum."

The image of Jennifer on her knees in this bedroom, writhing in the restraints of Sonya's tail, desperately begging her to end the torment, brought a familiar sense of sadism into her system. However, she did feel an odd sensation of heat rise in her body.

She returned back to the assignment at hand, the heat radiating at the back of her mind as she hummed and said, "Oh can you envision it, Jennifer? How much of a writhing, filthy mess you'd be? You'd be left unsatisfied, without release. Not unless you crawled onto your knees and begged so pitifully. Maybe alone. Maybe not. But tell me, if you were to do that, should I give in and fuck you like I do now?"

A resounding and gasping "YES" was Jennifer's response as her hips jutted at the rattles faster. So close now...

"Such an enthusiastic answer. You must be so close now," Sonya noted, not noticing her own jaw gaping open as her red optic recorded Jennifer's unravelling, "You've taken me so well this far. Letting me taste you, ruin you. So strong and resilient. With the most perfect body just for me. You do these filthy activities so impressively, as a naughty girl like you should. Oh, I love the way your flesh bruises and reddens and scars from me. I love the taste of your tears, of your sweat and of your juices. And I love how loud I make you scream and cry and moan. Especially when the only word coming out of your mouth is my name. Makes me fantasize doing it all in front of everyone. What say you? Perhaps on a live hologram broadcast during a Beastie tournament? In the storage unit for all the passing guards and personnel to listen to? Or maybe in a meeting with those morons who dare to ogle you-?"

Sonya was interrupted by an abrupt and approving moan, which slipped into a pleased humming smile from Jennifer.

"Oh? You like that idea? Is that what you want?" Sonya inquired with an endeared curiosity, surprised by the quick nod that followed, "Does it turn you on? At the thought of me fucking you in front of those leering senile men? My, my. What a dirty little slut you are, wanting to be humiliated by me so desperately that you would want those old fucks to see how good I make you feel. Or perhaps it because you want to show them that you're mine. For me, and me alone. No one else. Maybe in one of your next meetings, I'll accompany you. And whenever you go to speak, I'll be behind you, my long, flexible and magnificent tongue lapping at the nape of your neck, nibbling at the flesh with teasing little bites, my claws digging at your glimmering dress. One tail snaking under your skirt. Maybe I'll leave small cuts in passing, letting that lovely crimson run down those fine legs of yours. But once that tail reaches its destination, I'll let the vibrations tease your wet cunt until your legs begin to wobble."

"I'll tear open the front of your dress, let those ravishing tits of yours breathe within a room where they've been dreamed about for so long, except the only one having any fun with them there will be me," Sonya had a tail squeeze promisingly around one of Jennifer's tits as emphasis, "I'll have another tail play with one while my tongue lavishes the other. Don't worry, I'll have my last tail free to ensure none of them stop us, and no one leaves, bound by their pathetic fear. I'll rip your dress off, exposing your body to them all, let them see how dripping fucking wet you are for me, and I'll pick you up, bring you to the table, splayed out like a feast ready to be dined. But only for one though."

She pressed her closed jaw to whisper, "None of them will touch you. We'll show them how well you take me. How beautiful you sing my name. How much you enjoy being fucked dirty by me, and how good of a naughty girl you are to me. Show them you find more pleasure whoring yourself to a beastie than being touched by any of their limp dicks. Reveal your deadliness to them, unleash your claws and mark my metal with your scratches as I leave my own marks along your beautiful body. I bet their hearts would give out at the sight. I don't think their weak pride could take it. The fact you'd cum to a- disgu- terrible monst- beast like me, wouldn't you agree, my sexy- gorgeous- beautif- fucking - goddes- belov- m-!"

Everything was so unbearably hot. Her mind seemed to be on some kind of fritz, just like her voice box. Diagnostics on the system returned with nothing of issue, nor of any errors.

And yet Sonya felt so unbelievably strained from the task at hand. As if exhaustion of all things was overcoming her body as she continued to bring Jennifer closer to her release.

And her voice box. She didn't understand what was wrong with it. It bugged out, replacing words she wanted to say with those she'd never in her life say to Jennifer. But most importantly...

Was that my voice? Not her current voice, the one she was forced to adopt, but the one that Malvolio stole from her.

It didn't matter much, focusing on it was too much of a strain while she was fucking Jennifer at the same time. She refocused her efforts in bringing her mistress over the edge.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait long.

Her words, in combination to the unrelenting rattles fucking her pussy and fondling her breasts, had culminated in Jennifer arching her back more while screaming out Sonya's name, accompanied by the gushing squirts onto the Apex's tail.

Witnessing the result, Sonya swiftly stopped the rattles and brought Jennifer down to the bed safely. She managed to lay the woman down onto her front before her usually durable limbs failed her. She caught herself from laying on top of Jennifer, and carefully positioned herself to lay down by Jennifer's left.

Both beastie and mistress heaved for air, the activity exhausting for both parties involved, much to Sonya's bafflement.

They laid beside each other, just for the moment, to catch their breath.

Jennifer opened her blue eyes to just gaze at the Apex, eyes taking in Sonya's strangely exhausted form. She brushed a strand of her now messy and sweaty blonde hair aside, let out a little laugh, and said, "That was... amazing."

Sonya grunted in agreement, unable to currently verbalize. She did use enough strength to bring the tipped middle tail to her view, the rattles and the curved blade under it glimmering in Jennifer's juices, not dissimilar to the woman's dress.

She opened her jaw to bring her tongue out, cleaning up the slick fluids. She rumbled approvingly at the sweetly sour taste.

Her audio receptors picked up on the soft sound of a slick pussy being gently stroked. Sonya looked over to see Jennifer still staring at her but with a newfound hunger. Sonya noticed that her ass was slightly bent up, with one of her hands massaging her cunt.

"You look so hot when you do that," she husked out, and Sonya felt her exhaustion dissipate when Jennifer asked, "Do you want to put that tongue to better use?"

Sonya tilted her head, her lens focusing on Jennifer's face, "Round two? Now?"

"Don't you remember what we agreed on? "Until my mind goes blank", "until I forget my own name" and "can't remember my troubles in the morning"," Jennifer recalled, and in that sultry mocking tone of hers, "Or are you tapping out after round one?"

A new edge burned within Sonya, and she leaned up, looking down at Jennifer's nude body, asking, "Is that a challenge?"

Jennifer though playfully shrugged, spreading her legs wider as she continued stroking herself with hushed breathy moans.

Sonya took the opportunity to place her right hand over on the other side of Jennifer, until she was above the woman. She retracted until she was staring at both her mistress' sexy ass and her glistened pussy.

Blue eyes glanced to Sonya's observing form, and removed her slick-covered hand, caressing it on one of her ass cheeks before giving it a smack to entice the beastie, as she returned her hand to under her chin.

Sonya let out an amused chuckle as she took out her tongue. However, she pressed it from her mistress' tail bone all the way up her spine, the heat and wetness of the elongated and rough bio-mechanical muscle causing Jennifer to gasp and shiver from its texture.

Sonya lowered herself so she was right on top of her mistress, her gaping jaw releasing a soft exhale of hot steam brush at the woman's ear.

"You're not going to make it to any meetings tomorrow," Sonya informed her mistress.

Jennifer only smirked at her words, not returning a reply as she got comfortable. The beastie retracted back to where her mistress needed her the most.

Though unnecessary, Sonya couldn't help but lick around her mouth as she prepared to satiate her hunger, as well as Jennifer's.

[A/n] And from there on, Jennifer decided bondage was an excellent excuse to get out of a meeting she didn't want to attend the next day.

I wanna say that I may have gone a bit overboard, but overboard is just in-character for them (at least in my series).

[beneathsilverstars]

i know there's many possible reasons why people do this but whenever people post like a bunch of different drawings in one sketchdump i'm like woah hold on... give them room to breathe... each of these deserves its own frame and space in the gallery....

it kinda makes sense when they're closely-related explorations of the same topic but when they r different concepts or characters or esp moods i'm like wait! i have different things to say about each one! i want to admire and reblog each one separately with discrete tag commentaries!!

i just wanna show my love to each piece individually 😭

[fourswords]

tell me i didn't just write a thousand-word outline of a goddamn mc x fsa time travel crossover story. I'm Supposed To Be Doing Things

[domoz]

Some kind of silly drabble about Tobirama once having done childish things:

Hashirama takes the  bellow of rage as an excuse to abandon his paperwork.

It's not like such a thing is uncommon these days, when Madara and Tobirama work together as closely as they do, but his eyes are getting tired from reading trade agreements and it's as good a reason to take a break as any.

His brother's office and the location of the sound is just a few steps down the hall. It takes takes Hashirama less than a moment to understand what's got his friend fuming this time.

Madara, head of the Uchiha clan, is covered head to toe with sparkly silver glitter, clutching a crumpled seal tag in one fist. In the corner, Izuna is hunched over on himself, wheezing with poorly suppressed laughter. Which doesn't actually mean Madara isn't about to start killing anyone, but it's a good sign.

"Oh, wow Madara." He says, purposefully blithe "When did you get a taste for fashion?"

"I hope you die." Madara turns on him with a snarl, "You and your brother both."

"I told you not to touch that." Tobirama says evenly, not even looking up from some scroll on his desk, "It's really only your own fault."

"No. You said it was none of my concern. That's --" Madara cuts himself off with another wordless growl of rage, and Hashirama fights to keep his lips from twitching up.

"Aww. Think of it this way Madara, at least this way we won't lose you in a crowd."

For a moment, Madara looks like he really is about to start a fight, but he's cut off by a quiet snort, and then… Laughter. Not Izuna's, but Tobirama's, muffled behind a hand, and he's clearly trying to fight it off the way his shoulders are shaking, but his brother is laughing, and Hashirama can't help but stare because he can't remember the last time he heard that. Not in years, not since before Itama, if not Kawarama --

Madara is shocked too, staring with wide eyes. He recovers faster, remembering he's supposed to be angry and spinning on his heel to scatter glitter over as much of Tobirama's office as he can as he leaves with a huff.

"...Wow." Izuna says breathlessly after a moment, "Honestly. Glitter, Senju? That's cruel even for you."

Tobirama sniffs in response, though he's still clearly fighting off a smile.

"Not glitter." He says, "Modified flash powder. It won't hurt him, but he's in for a hell of a surprise the next time he uses a katon."

"...Which he's going to do right now. He always goes to the training fields when you piss him off!" The younger Uchiha jumps to his feet, "Oh I've got to see that."

"Make sure you catch his face with your sharingan if you really want this to be worth it." Tobirama waves him off, and Hashirama has to take a step back to give Izuna the space to bolt past.

(Madara's face was glorious, Izuna will report with glee later, but the yelp he'd made as he'd started sparking had really been something special)

Hashirama watches for a moment as his younger brother shakes his head and returns to work, as though covering Madara with flammable glitter was just an expected part of his day.

"A prank, otouto?" He steps forward to lean on Tobirama's desk, making sure to keep his voice light and non-accusatory. "Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."

For some reason, Tobirama looks up at him as though he's the one being confusing.

"What do you mean?" He says, "I used to…" With his expression still so unusually open, Hashirama can see melancholy slip over the amusement, "Ah. I suppose you always blamed Kawarama for those things, didn't you?"

And...Oh. There's the familiar ache in his chest. Hashirama didn't expect to remember, today, how one of Kawarama's biggest joys had been to play pranks. He hadn't known Tobirama had ever gotten involved -- had always assumed his most straight laced little brother would have nothing to do with such things. But then, that would have been the perfect cover, and he'd been so close with Kawarama that he must have been dragged into a scheme or two, at least.

How was he still discovering all these years later, things that he'd lost when his brothers had died -- oh and this one was worse, because it was something Tobirama had lost that Hashirama hadn't even known was there to lose. Tobirama was the last family he had left, and yet so often, Hashirama was reminded how little he knew him at all.

But today, somehow, for some reason, a little part of him revealed itself again, even if it had come at the cost of a little bit of Madara's dignity. It should be a happy occasion, and so Hashirama doesn't go digging for answers.

Well, at least not unhappy answers -- after a moment he blinks and stands up straight.

"Tobirama." He says, "Tell me you're not the one who hid razor wire in my hairbrush."

People still taunted him with the bowl cut he'd given himself to hide what had happened to this day.

Beside him, Tobirama goes very still.

"Well, Anija." he says after a moment, "I don't want to lie to you."

And promptly disappears to some hirashin marker out of Hashirama's reach.

Perhaps of everything that's happened today, the most unexpected of all is how Hashirama has now found himself alone in the tower in the middle of the workday. He shakes his head with a chuckle, and just... Takes a moment.

No, he doesn't think he'd regret making this village for anything.

[hickeygender]

you ever write up a combination of words you're really proud of at the time bc you think it's vivid but it's actually so atrocious that you remember it eight years later bc it's burned itself into your long-term memory? just me?

[sonicranger1]

Yknow I find it weird when people talk about Ink and say he can't feel emotions even when he takes his vials cuz like-

Then what's the point of the vials in the first place my dude? 😭 the whole point of their existence is to help ink feel in the first place

Please explain to me like I'm a 2 year old if I'm missing something cuz otherwise ????????

[robintherobiner]

I keep forgetting to draw T-Dawg, so while i procrastinate on that, lets develop him together!

Remember, i want this to be very much a collaborative AU, so i'm planning on doing a bunch of polls, taking ideas from other people who like this AU, and sharing a lot of my thoughts before they're even finished. Also i've only ever done weed lie 3 times with my dad but i dont think i did it right because i felt nothing so i'm really not the best person to write an AU all about a drug dealer but oh well XD

With that said, lets get into it!!!

Yall voted on Tim taking his look/persona from mafia-esque dealers. I think this makes his nickname even funnier. Originally I was gonna have him do a GTA5 themed persona, hence the cliche T-Dawg name. But you guys voted the complete opposite, and i refuse to change the name.

I need to watch some mafia movies (not documentaries. again, Tim is a child, he's taking it from cringy movies and stereotypes/cliches) so that I can have an actual reference point, so if anyone has any recommendations I'd appreciate it since the only mafia movie i know is The Godfather

I have decided he's gonna wear a suit though! The only problem is... what colour? are we doing pinstripe or boring plain? so guess what we're doing. ANOTHER POLL!!!

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

"Now I've got Fadel comparing himself to the engine he'd just watched Style work on." FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!

Isn't it, though, Nonnie? 🤣 My man may just have a hand kink after this lol

[clumsiestgiantess]

Here’s the short story I mentioned earlier for day 2! The aesthetic is very similar to the live action Beauty and the Beast, and the figurine characters are actually based on the characters in this music video

My father had always claimed he could create life with his machines.  The town thought he was mad to say such a thing.  I thought it was sweet of him to view his creations like that — little living things he’d given a piece of himself to.  To him, they are alive.  But however strange my father seemed, no one could deny he had artistic talent beyond belief.  People traveled from everywhere to buy his machines.  He mostly delves in exquisite clocks, but his range expands to all things with cogs and springs.  In fact, his most prized piece was not a clock at all, but rather an intricately-designed music box, created for my mother.  It sat in a glass case in the center of his grand shop, glistening in its gold-furnished beauty.  Its stand was carved with gold-plated oak, and a crank stuck out at its side.  The top was a glass globe, its bottom lined with white cloth made to look like snow.

The most amazing part of the music box wasn’t even its outer radiance.  Many a customer became entranced by what was inside long before they noticed the carvings throughout its exterior.  The globe on top of the wooden creation held the dancing figurine of a ballerina.  Her movements were so fluid one could swear she was real if not for the obvious gleam of her porcelain skin.  Another figure stood in the music box’s hollow base.  She was carved of the same wood as the base itself, and served to wind up the box from within.  The two figures working in tandem was quite an awe-inspiring sight.  People always asked my father how much he was willing to sell it for, but he would kindly reply that the music box was not for sale; it simply meant too much to him.  No matter the amount offered, he would always turn the offer down.

I’ve tried to follow in his footsteps; I truly have.  I’m not quite as good with the mechanical parts, but I’ve been told that I’m quite the exquisite woodcarver.  In fact, I have a small piece of my father’s store all to myself to sell my carvings.  Sometimes I’ll be cleaning up the storefront or my own wares, and I’ll hear my father talk to his machines.  He cherished them with as much love as you would living beings.  Many believed he used his great love for his machines to patch the hole in his heart, created by the loss of his wife, my mother.  

I never knew her, she died a few months after I was born.  Despite this, for most of what I remember my father seemed as happy as he could be, and he always told me that he loved me twice as much as everything in his shop, which was quite a lot.  However, he would slip into bouts of mourning and anger once in a while, especially around his and my mother’s anniversary of their marriage, and of her death.

We lived in a townhome on the second floor of my father’s store, so I rarely had reason to leave.  I was practically living a storybook life.  It’s a bit unconventional, but I wouldn’t trade it for much else.  Technically, my father owns a large farmhouse on the outskirts of town too,  but we have no livestock, and it’s barely been touched in years.  This was the house my father bought for my mother 28 years ago.  He rarely visits it anymore.  “We have a perfectly fine house right here in the shop,” my father would say every time I mentioned it.  “I ought to sell it.”  But he never did.  

Thankfully, he didn’t have the heart to let the old place go, as my life was about to suddenly and dramatically turn upside-down in one night.  The storefront next door is a barbershop.  Often, customers strike up quite the lively conversation, which sometimes led to disagreements that ended in a brawl outside the store.  These nonsense brawls were quickly settled by the barbers at work, however.  On one particular afternoon, a few drunkards on the street got mixed into the fight.  Words and drinks were spat.  All it took was one person’s cigar falling onto the alcohol-covered walk, and suddenly, the place was in flames.  

The wooden storefronts mixed with the windy day caused the fire to spread quickly, and soon it burned its way through the barbershop, straight through the wall of my father’s store.  He was away the day it happened — off in the neighboring town to see a doctor.  Nothing too serious, just a normal checkup, so he insisted I stay behind and run the shop myself.  I was at the front register, checking a customer out, when the fire started.  Racing around the store like a chicken without a head, I managed to get everyone and myself out before the fire burned through.  However, it was only after the place was ablaze did I remember my father’s prized music box.  It was still inside.

Racing back into the building, I flinched at the scalding heat that radiated off everything.  I dodged my father’s burning works of art and headed for the center of the store, where at last I found the box.  Horrified, I scrambled to the pedestal that previously held it perfectly pristine.  Now, the case was smashed wide open by fallen debris.  Fate was thankfully with me then.  The covering was only shattered on the side, leaving the music box with only a few scratches.  

I reached out to grab my father’s beloved creation, but stopped short as something stumbled out from behind the box.  I stared disbelievingly at the wooden figurine.  Instead of turning the crank dutifully, it threw itself to the ground and smothered a part of its arm that had caught fire.  “Harley?” I gasped in shock.  The little figurine shot straight up, looking over at me in a mixture of terror and uncertainty.  “H- How did you-?”  “There’s no time to explain, get in the pocket!” I called urgently, opening a pocket of my dress and stepping closer as the roof groaned awfully.

Harley backed away from me, glancing over at the globe on top of the music box.  Both of us flinched as a piece of the ceiling came crashing down.  “Wait,” she gasped, “Th- There’s someone else..”  "Oh, right!  Liana!"  I'd heard my father call them by their names before, but I always assumed he made them up.  I never would've imagined these two being real.  All they did was the same dancing and turning day in and day out.  How were they never this animated before?  The two figurines had always seemed life-like, but never truly real.  Both of them still had tracks they were set to — motions they repeated over and over again.  I'd have to figure all that out later, though.  A burning building creates enough confusion for one moment.  

The small figurine scrambled up the base of the music box, slamming her fist into the side of the glass, but it didn't so much as crack beneath it.  Harley glanced desperately up at me as something else came crashing down further back in the store.  The ballerina figurine, Liana, was curled up tight in the center of the glass globe.  Unlike the wood that Harley was made of — which was only in trouble if it caught fire — Liana's porcelain could crack at any sudden change in temperature.  She was in dire need of an escape.  In fact, all of us needed to get out of there.  The roof kept making awful noises as if it might cave in at any moment.

Grabbing an unlit splinter of wood, I quickly bashed away a hole big enough for me to reach into the case.  I swept the wooden figurine into my pocket, grabbed the music box, and fled the hellish remains of my and my father's shop.  Firemen had just arrived the moment I scrambled out of the burning building.  Seconds afterwards, my home on the second floor caved in.  It fell into the first floor with a raucous crash that only fed the growing flames.  They billowed outward and rose higher into the air.

Even as the firemen set out to tame the flaming beast that had consumed yet another storefront, I continued my escape, rushing down the street and all the way to the roadway into town — the music box clutched tightly to my chest.  Finally, I stopped to catch my breath on the porch of a closed feed store.  My thoughts raced, and I could feel my heart practically beating out of my chest.  The clink of two glassy surfaces colliding woke me from my panicked daze.  I held the music box in front of me with shaking hands.  Inside, the figurine had backed off to the opposite side of the globe.

I studied her for a moment while I waited for my scare to dissipate.  She didn't look as though she'd cracked, but I didn't have time to do a full evaluation of the piece like my father had taught me to do.  After a few steady breaths, I picked myself up and headed down the road to the old house.  There was no point going back to the shop.  Almost everything my father and I made was carved from wood.  The fire would likely ravage it all.  I was lucky enough to have saved the music box.  

As I walked the cobblestone road that quickly tapered off into a dirt path, I pondered my father's knowledge of the music box.  He must know the figurines are alive.  How else would he know their names?  Well, he did create them, too.  He also talked to them; did they only come to life while he was around?  It couldn't be.  I've caught him talking to the music box before, and both figurines were lifeless even then.  My father's precious creation was baffling to me.  Hopefully, I could get answers from the figurines themselves.  That is, if I wasn’t hallucinating the whole ordeal in the first place.

The moment I stepped in the door of my father's old house, I rushed to the dinner table and lightly placed the music box on its surface.  Dust billowed off it in a large plume and I gagged on it for a second or so.  Sitting down roughly, I stilled for a moment, too shocked to do much of anything else.  Suddenly, I felt subtle movements from the pocket of my dress.  I hesitantly reached inside and pulled out the figurine.  She froze in my hand, eyes going wide.  How is it even possible for wood to make such human expressions?  I placed her down on the table beside the box, letting her dangling legs safely settle on the table’s surface before letting her go.  

Immediately, she stood up and backed away from me, glancing between me and the globe as if she wasn't sure whether she was willing to run away from me and leave the other figurine behind.  It was incredible how life-like her movements were.  I had to ask how they came about.  "What.. What are you?" was all I managed to say.  Harley stopped her retreat and stood a bit straighter.  "You don't know about us…" she whispered to herself, "Right."  She cleared her throat, which is a strange thing for a figurine without a throat to do.  "First off, we aren't machines.  Your father didn't create us, he only carved us before we were alive."  

My mouth dropped open in shock.  "That isn't possible," I answered, as if on command.  "Wood and porcelain can't come to life.  And if my father didn't bring you to 'life' by creating your machinery, who did?"  It was meant to be a rhetorical question.  I didn't expect Harley to have an answer, but she gave me one in an instant, like she was stating the obvious.  "Your mother."  

For a long moment, I sat at the table in hushed silence.  "No," I whispered.  "Yes," Harley replied sternly.  "She used a charm to give us life.  Your father wanted us to seem like living people, so she abided, neither of them realized the consequences until it was too late.  The charm took her own life and gave it to us instead."  Fury seized my chest.  I stood up suddenly.  My chair scuffed backwards across the floor with an awful screech.  "YOU STOLE MY MOTHER'S LIFE!?" I cried in outrage, reaching for the wooden figurine.

Before I could snatch her up, the second one cried out in her defense.  "No, wait!  We didn't take anything!  Your mother gave her life to us!  It was an accident!"  I turned angrily on Liana, and she flinched backwards in fear.  "Why on Earth does my father care so much for you!?  You took-!"  I stopped mid-sentence, realization silencing me.  These figurines are the last remnant of my mother's life.  Of course my father cherished the music box.  It was, accidently, her last gift to him.  Here I thought it was the other way around.

Slowly, I fell back into my chair.  "So.." I began, a bit dumbstruck, "If my mother gave you life, why weren't you always this life-like?  At the store, you seemed to work like machines.  Albeit, very intricate ones."  The figurines glanced at each other, having a silent conversation with their expressions alone.  Eventually, Harley spoke up.  "Your father resented us at first," she explained, inching slightly closer, "He reacted.. almost exactly like you did.  He claimed we'd taken his wife from him.  His animosity forged the casing we've been trapped under for so long.  He carved it from the hexed wood that made up his wife's own coffin.  As long as we were in that case, we were forced to move like machinery, like how your father wanted us to be: life-like figurines, not truly alive."

I inhaled a sharp breath, "The pedestal in the store.. was enchanted?"  "Cursed," Harley corrected me.  "The curse was broken when it was shattered in the fire, so now we're finally back to our true selves."  I took a moment to process what the figurines had told me.  My mother hadn’t died of some strange illness, she’d died through some sort of spell.  My mother knew magic!  Was my father ever going to tell me the truth about her, or would he have hidden her real death from me forever?  I’m sure he had to lie to everyone else about it too, which made me feel both better and worse at the same time.  

A dull clink brought me back to the present.  Liana pressed her hand into the side of the glass globe.  On the other side, Harley did the same.  Watching them together, I realized they had a stronger bond than I first thought.  Harley noticed I’d been watching them, and turned to face me.  “Can you get her out of here?” she asked, gesturing to the globe.  “I wouldn’t ask anything else of you.  We’ll leave if you want.  Just let her out of this thing.”  “Leave?” Liana echoed, “And go where?  You’re made of wood, and I’m made of porcelain.  We wouldn’t get far before one of us breaks.. and it’ll probably be me.”  

Harley looked slightly stricken; she stepped back a ways and looked between me and Liana.  “What if she gets angry again?” she asked, pointing at me.  “What if her father puts us under another curse?  We have no choice; we can’t stay here.”  “I won’t let him,” I said suddenly, accidentally causing them to flinch.  “He shouldn’t take your lives away because of something out of your control.  That isn’t fair.”  Liana nodded, smiling, while Harley offered her shocked thanks.  

“I told you she wouldn’t be so harsh,” Liana said knowingly to Harley.  “You told her?  But, weren’t you both stuck as machines?” I asked confusedly.  “Yes, but we could still communicate,” Harley explained.  “We could hear each other’s voices, though no one else could.”  I pictured a younger version of the figurines — when my father first cursed them.  They could cry out to the people gazing in at them, beg passersby to release them from their endless cycle, but the only reaction they got was from eachother.  No wonder they seemed so close.

I shuddered, “That must’ve been awful.”  Both figurines glanced at each other.  “Well, it was better than thinking we were alone,” Liana mused.  The two shared a grateful look as I brought my chair closer.  “I can take the globe off the music box, if you like.”  Liana nodded and stepped to the small platform in the middle of the snowy floor of the globe.  With expert care, I took the music box in my hands, gripped the top of the globe, and slowly twisted it off the base.  The circular shell fell off the music box with a few more twists.  The jerking motion of the top unscrewing off the bottom lurched Liana backwards; she fell off the platform and landed in my lap with a yelp.  Quickly, I placed the box and globe on the table and carefully scooped up the porcelain figurine.  She stilled in my grasp, clearly not used to being held.  Though she certainly seemed alive, her skin was as ice-cold as normal porcelain.

Cautiously, I put her down on the table.  The moment she got her balance, Harley raced forward and pulled her close.  I realized that neither of them had been able to see or feel each other all this time.  They could only hear the other’s voice through magic.  Even when the curse was broken, they were still separated by a wall of glass.   “Thank you.”  Harley’s voice wavered as though she’d been crying, though she physically couldn’t.  I nodded and glanced over the table at the door.  Questions for my father spiraled in my head.  He would get quite the stern talking-to when he returned.  In the meantime, I welcomed my tiny, enchanted guests into the house.  As long as I had a say, I would ensure that both of the figurines stayed alive and together.

[skyward-floored]

I have so many wips sometimes I forget what I’ve worked on and I go back and read something and am pleasantly surprised when there’s more than I thought there was

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

I love this because I can literally figure out in my head exactly what happened.

Things got heated, people were arguing and talking over each other, it was getting loud and nobody could hear anyone anyway so it was all pointless bickering that nobody actually understood in the middle of all the noise, Dimitri was getting aggravated and... the pen snapped.

Everyone paused, froze and looked at him. He took a few seconds to stare blankly. Then his expression completely changed to sorrow. He liked that pen. He'd been doing so well holding a pen, he was on a roll, he was so sure he'd get through just one more council without snapping a pen... and the sad little pen was now half in his hand and half on his hand.

He sighed very sadly because he failed to get through it without losing another poor pen that had so much life left. So much left to write. So many notes to take.

At least the room was silent and people could have a normal council conversation again.

But he was still sad about his pen. Yet another sacrifice, and for what? It will need a proper burial, he supposed.