#just starry things

[asteria-argo]

My dad does my fucking head in sometimes. I’ve got my school scheduled structured in a way that gives me the most free time in the day while still getting my work done by due dates right? So I’m on track for everything while still getting to do all my own shit, but unless I’m working every second of the fucking day he’s got something to say

I cannot just exist in peace to him, it doesn’t matter if I’m on track he’s always pushing for above and beyond for literally no reason! The work will get done either way! The difference is that I won’t set my brain on fire doing it this way!

[starry-bi-sky]

this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au

Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.

By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.

Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.

Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.

It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.

Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.

He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.

Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.

It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.

Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.

He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.

The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.

They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.

"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"

When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.

By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.

[starriegalaxy]

Hey FNAF DCA community:

Based on this conversation I had with @crystalmagpie447 👇🏻

Correction : they're a star and a satellite pls pardon me for my error ack and thanks for teaching me!

[eggcromancer]

hi Eggie, I have a giftie for you :

Okay have a nice day 🫂💕💥✨‼️

Fish slippers! They're super cool!! Until a certain sea critter mistake it for a tasty snack, that is.... 🍽

[bugflies00]

finding old dsmp animatics i used to watch is so... man i miss getting so fucking excited about it all. that period of late 2020/early 2021 when everything was blowing up so fast was so EXCITING like everything was possible yknow what i mean.... Swagever

thanks to that playlist the anon posted heres a handful of my old faves that i'd forgotten about so Take them . im hosting a group dsmp animatic rewatch session so we can all feel something

this is part 1 of the post because theres a limit for links... homophobic website

[ikarakie]

hopper sees steve as a surrogate son. really, he shouldn't make such a habit of picking up stray children, but he looked at harrington and saw a kid who just... needed someone. saw the vacancy in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. saw the police file, the noise complaints and the few reports from hawkins middle school about suspicious bruises that had been swept away. saw a boy who'd seen too much. who just needed someone to lean on.

so he tries to be that. offers the kid a hand every now and then. keeps an eye on him, all alone in that big house, after everything. after '83 and then '84 and then summer of '85, when he'd signed his medical papers because there was no other adult for him around. it always left him a bit hollow, but he told himself that it was okay as long as he was around. as long as steve knew, deep down, that he could come to hopper for help, even if he'd wait until he was on the brink of overload before doing so.

it's all this that makes the sight of steve's car, that brown beemer that had dropped his daughter back home so many times, pulled into a ditch with the lights off cause his stomach to sink. a million awful things come to mind as he pulls in behind it and quickly hops out of his cruiser.

had he seen something and spiralled into a panic? had he gotten a bad migraine? had he run off into the woods alone?

thankfully, he finds the best case scenario: a slightly flushed and dishevelled steve rolling down a foggy window. grinning like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he realises it's just hopper. he's fine, he's in one piece.

what's not fine, however, is the person with him in the backseat. eddie fucking munson, a kid hopper's put in handcuffs more than once. not because he's another boy, who gives a shit about that, but because it's eddie munson. drug dealer, general troublemaker, and definitely a bad influence on his boy.

he does his best to save the judgement this time, sensing the fear emanating off the couple. tells them to be more careful, to go home and kiss or do whatever there instead in case anyone else drives by tonight. munson looks at him like he's grown a second head, (which, fair. usually their interactions go a lot less amicably than this) and steve just tears up and nods. he reaches in to ruffle the boy's hair, ignoring the protests, before reluctantly trudging back to his car and driving away.

he calls steve the next afternoon and gets him to confess that, yes, he is dating edward 'eddie' munson. no, it's not a fling. yes, they're boyfriends, god help him. he gripes about it a decent amount, because really, steve? that one? you picked that one? but he keeps the tone light enough that steve feels comfortable enough to defend eddie's honour amidst laughter. within a week he's got steve sat across from him, eddie by his side looking two seconds away from shitting himself.

"well, boys." he grins, cracking his knuckles. eddie watches. gulps. "let's have a little chat, shall we?"

[stanperformanceunit]

My problem is that I hyperfixate on dramas I really like but then when I finish them I feel empty inside until I find a new to drama to hyperfixate on...

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[melverie]

currently thinking about Satan in nightbringer vs in the original

thinking about how in nightbringer he's always outside HoL when he wants to be alone since the others are always in the library + they keep chaining him to his bed, so he most likely doesn't feel safe in his own room to begin with

how Asmo keeps trying to invade his personal space (asking to do his hair, nails etc.) and doesn't take the hint, and how Lucifer casted a spell on Satan so he physically could not leave his side for a while, and how he's never really allowed the time to properly work through his emotions

that dinner party where the others all started talking about the Celestial Realm until Satan eventually stormed off

the way he describes being in their presence as torture and refuses to see them as his brothers, yet he's instantly calm around MC because they treat him decently

how the others kept complaining over how the demons of the Devildom were treating them-how they were discriminated against because they're fallen angels-yet they keep on treating Satan, the only full-fledged demon of HoL, like some feral animal that has to be put down in two days

currently thinking about how the very first thing we learn about Satan in the original is that he masks his emotions

him saying that he loves to go on walks alone and how he gets to meet all kinds of different people that way

thinking about how he's usually in the library instead of his room

when they were all up in the human world and the other brothers were outside stargazing, meanwhile Satan stayed inside. And when asked about it by Lucifer, he claimed it was because he wanted to read before offhandedly mentioning that they're reminiscing about the Celestial Realm and he won't understand any of it anyway

he now gets along better with all of his brothers and yet, when the two of them got lost once, he told MC that there's no need to worry, because his brothers would come looking for them, making it a point to add that they wouldn't search for him

that time Satan ran away to the human world and Levi, Asmo (arguably the two brothers closest to him) and MC came to bring him back. How he started getting angry at one of their questions, so they opted for running away instead of even attempting to comfort him in any way

how his first response after Lucifer told him to leave HoL was to actually pack his things; how he was fully intent on leaving, and how when MC comes to check on him, he instantly tells them that his brothers would never stop him from leaving, that they think it's funny

the way he seemed genuienly surprised when MC accepted after he asked them out to the dance, and then admitting he actually thought that they wouldn't want to go with him

MC being his main source for comfort, and Satan even calling them his sanctuary. How before MC it was books and cats; his room being filled to the brim with books, to the point it's become a safety hazard, and him always carrying cat treats with him

currently thinking about how Satan's first instict whenever he gets angry is to isolate himself, if possible even lock himself up in his room for days on end and how his brothers don't seem to pay it much attention (Levi once said that they already had a shut-in, they don't need another one). And how he doesn't even necessarily need to give into his wrath, how simply getting worked up over something someone else said is enough for him to isolate himself

also thinking about the whole idea of 'you become the person that would have saved you when you were younger' and how Satan in the og game is literally so full of love and very kind, patient and compassionate when given the chance to fully be himself

[asteria-argo]

Okay now that I know for a fact I have a couple of voltron mutuals I'm gonna go ahead and promote my voltron side blog because I have just realised it is pretty rare for me to actually post voltron stuff on main unless it's fic related so uhhhh, if you're here for voltron my sideblog for that is over at @star-racing

[starryluminary]

If Noco were a canon couple’s stereotypes: The Arch Villain and The Queen Bee Schemer

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 250

So blame it on me making food-themed dragons, and failing to draw a full-body of the Ennead in the Class Pulls a Tiamat Aus. So Why not combine them- along with a hint of Ghosts are Dragons. 

See, most, if not every, person in Amity Park, and even it’s surrounding areas, know better than to use the W word. It is borderline taboo to use the ‘wish’ word. But somebody got drunk, said a thing they shouldn’t have, and now there’s a bit of an issue. 

Which honestly, they could have dealt with! Easily even! If not for the fact that erm, realms beings can get summoned. Meaning Desiree is well, gone. Gone long enough for the twenty-four hour mark to pass. And they can’t exactly punish a ghost for doing what’s in their nature and part of their very Core. 

So. 

It seems everyone is food themed now. Every ghost and liminal- though at least Amity was already weird and pretty hidden from the Outside nowadays- and even a few undead. 

Honestly, Fright Knight should not look so terrifying with his new coloration and criss-cross patterns across his back. But well, he pulls it off, burnt-looking limbs and all. (Seriously, his flames look more like whip-cream now and he’s still somehow pulling it off- Dash wants to know his secret! 

At least the nine of them haven’t gotten it too bad, probably. And Lunch Lady is pleased, so there’s that, but still. Jazz looks like a dragon sushi roll for Realm’s sake, and- okay that’s kind of funny. Vlad you can’t hide your new fruit-based appearance! 

Hah!

Oh Realms there’ll need to be so much paperwork for th- Oh thank fuck someone is summoning them now. Alright, showtime! Time to be Heir of the Infinite, big scary nine headed dragon! Ignore the food-theme-ish guys! 

[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 18 - can't sleep // sex toys

ghost x soap x f!reader (pt. 2 - pt. 1 is HERE)

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1.7k💀, established ghoap, DUBCON: touching, forced masturbation, sex toys, threesome-ish situation (not sure how to categorize this, ymmv), a bit of over-stimulation, implied forced poly relationship.]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

The second you walked in the door the next day, you knew something was afoot. You opened the door to Johnny and Simon staring at each other in the middle of the living room. Clearly you had interrupted a conversation, because they both turned to you when you stepped in the door. You stared right back, putting away your keys and kicking off your office shoes, waiting for one of them to decide to speak.

“‘m sorry,” Johnny said, looking very uncomfortable and a bit flushed. He was clearly bothered by whatever he was apologizing for.

“Sorry about what?” you asked, ready for the other shoe to drop.

“I . . . ah- well, we,” he said looking over at Simon, standing there with his arms crossed, impassive as always. “We were trying to change that burnt out light in yer room and . . .” He rubbed at his arm, eyes wandering along the floor toward your room.

Your room without a door. Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, eyes bugging out. Oh no.

“Simon gave me a boost up, but lost his grip. Dropped me,” he said turning his puppy eyes back on Simon. 

“Wouldn’t ‘ve happened if you stopped fuckin’ squirming like I asked,” Simon responded flatly. 

“He fell back into the door,” Johnny continued, ignoring him. “I fell on your bed and . . . “

You bolted over to your room. Your mouth fell open at the sight that greeted you. He must be more solid than you imagined, because your bed frame was absolutely shattered on one side. Wood splinters littered the floor around the impact of what you suspected was where Johnny had landed. If it was even possible, the door was obliterated even worse. Nothing was left except a strip of wood hanging off of the hinges. 

Your bed, you thought, slightly panicking, and the door? What were you going to do? You didn’t have the money for this. You stood, silent in the doorway, until Johnny sat a heavy, soothing hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll buy y’ a new one, don’t worry, bird,” he said crowding your space as he massaged down your back from your shoulder. He was sweaty. While it made you want to slither out from under his arm at first, when the spicy, pungent, manly smell hit you you were suddenly weak in the knees. “And you can have our bed ‘til it gets here, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you responded automatically, your voice as distant as the racing thoughts in your head. It only you would have been paying attention, then you would have seen the manic smile curling across Johnny’s face. 

Johnny and Simon made a quick exit after that, leaving you with a flimsy excuse about dinner plans and a promise to be back late. Several minutes after the door slammed shut behind them, you managed to shake yourself back into reality. 

You picked your way around the mess of wood shards across your bedroom floor and gathered a few supplies in order to spend the night lounging on the couch. It was nice to be alone for once. You took a long, leisurely shower, put on your most comfortable pj’s, and curled up with your computer. That distracted you until after the sun set. After the natural light dwindled away, the main room of the apartment was left hung with long, creepy shadows that faded into cold, silent blue as the night settled in. 

After dozing off several times to a video following a scavenged girl-dinner of popcorn and crackers, you had to finally face the question of weather you would take the guys up on their offer, or just let yourself fall asleep on the couch. You rolled up in your blanket, trying to convince yourself you would be comfortable for a full video before giving in. You shut your computer, leaving it to charge safely on the table for the night before facing your fears and heading into their room. 

Wrapped up in your blanket like a cloak, you hesitantly pushed open the door. You expected to see something, anything other than a normal (if large) bed and various pieces of plain furniture along the walls. You quickly checked for anything suspicious, like the blinking red light of a camera, scuttling across the floor and climbing gingerly into bed. You left the door cracked, just so they could see you were in here when they got back. The bed was comfortable with two noticeable divots worn into either side. As you rolled up in your blanket once more in the middle, you wondered which one was Johnny’s and which was Simon’s. 

You tried to sleep. You honestly did. You would drift off for a moment, almost falling under, before you would shudder awake in a panic. Every time, you expected to wake up with them standing over you, watching you. You huffed, rolling onto your side and pulling your blanket up over your nose. Maybe if you just closed your eyes and relaxed-

There was noise in the hall, a pair of deep voices, one letting out a laugh that sounded very familiar. A second later, the sound of a key slotted into the door lock. The laugh traveled into the apartment as the door opened for a moment before it cut off. Your breathing slowed but your heart hammered in your chest. Shit. You planned to be asleep before they got home. One set of footsteps crept inside carefully. They walked the few steps around the living room, then to your room. The door closed, followed by a few steps to the cracked door of their room.

“Ghost,” you heard Johnny whisper, “In here.” You heard heavy steps join him. The door creaked open. “She actually-” he started to say, before Simon cut him off. 

“‘s late,” he rumbled, voice fading as he walked away, possibly to take off his shoes and jacket. “Get in bed. Enough room for the three of us.”

You lay straight as a board as you listened to the two of them silently undress. Johnny was the first to crawl in bed next to you. Indeed, there was enough room, but he seemed to lay uncomfortably, staring at your back while both of you waited for Simon. The mattress creaked as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his legs up and settling in. Neither talked while they relaxed. You knew from listening through your wall nightly that this was not their usual routine. Still, Johnny quickly started to snore behind you, and you sighed in relief. 

“Can’t sleep?” Simon said above you. 

You opened your eyes and looked up the bed. He was laying stretched out along his side of the bed, arms behind his head. You nodded, not wanting to wake the other man beside you. Simon unfurled his arms, rolling next to you and pulling off your blanket. You shivered as your shell of warmth was taken away.

“Use to happen t’ me too,” he continued, large fingers brushing your exposed thigh. This was the most he had spoken to you the whole time you had lived here and he was making a pass at you? He picked up your hand, breaking away the clutch you had on your blanket to press your fingers to your pussy over your soft sleep-shorts. Your mouth fell open in a gasp. “This’ll help,” he said releasing your hand. When you didn’t move he urged you on. “Go on, lovie. Know you need it.”

Hand shaking under his watch and not really understanding why you were obeying him, your fingers moved over your shorts. You eventually found your clit under the fabric enough to spread a tingle through your sex. The motion of your hand shook the bed the tiniest bit. It made Simon hum in satisfaction. 

“There y’ go,” he mumbled, relaxing back.

You tried to build your pleasure, chasing it as best you could with the set up you were given until your hand cramped. You whined, pulling your hand away to flex it with your other. You were about to find Simon to apologize, to tell him you had tried your best, when his hand gripped your thigh again. 

“Needs help, Soap,” Simon told the man behind you.

Another shiver of panic racked your body as you felt the bed shift and a drawer open. Things shifted around, and a second later, Johnny was rolling back at your side. His breath sighed hot down your face and chest as he pressed something soft to your pulsing, covered clit. A click of a button removed the last shred of mystery as it started to vibrate against you, quiet buzzing filling the room.

Your mouth fell open, gasping a pitiful oh as Johnny . . . Soap, whatever he went by, worked the vibe in circles over your clit. Simon didn’t just lay there either. His large hands pushed your legs open for Johnny, holding one as he smoothed up and down over your skin. 

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed. “Like that? Need it like that?” 

You whined a yes in response, hands falling over your eyes. The intense vibrations of the wand worked you to your high incredibly fast. You were already shaking, core clenching and leaking, and then Simon pushed your shorts to the side. 

“Let ‘er finish good,” Simon commanded. 

Soap didn’t question him. He slid the vibrating head up through your slick, swirling around your exposed clit, playing with you. When your hips tried to follow his motions, he chuckled and gingerly started to travel up and down your clit, gently circling your bean. That punched a gasp from you. You clenched against nothing, vagina pulling tighter and tighter in pleasure until the vibe pressed just fractionally harder against you. 

Then you were gone, shaking and gasping as your clit pulsed under the unforgiving vibe. Simon pet at your head, wiping away sweat and mumbling as you thrashed in his arms. Your leg kicked away Johnny as he started to overstimulate you, finally making him remove the toy and turn it off. He wrapped his arms around you, uncaring that he crushed your exhausted form with his body. He hummed as he settled in next to you.

“Sorry it took so long, Birdie,” he sighed in your ear, hands running up your expanding ribs as you raced to catch your breath. “Had to make sure you’d be good f’ us.”

[kaydreamsart]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIFFRIN!!✨

[horatiocomehome]

thikning about. Siffrin postcanon casually bringing up something that happened in the loops. and then the party doesn't remember it happening and they have a moment of realization, oh. that only happened for me.

Siffrin's memory meaning the stuff just pops into his head without context. Like not being able to tell if something was a dream or a memory...