#lets just see if i can reverse that process

[sophiacloud28]

Let's talk Telomeres

Hello, hi, sorry to come in to spew knowledge that probably no one cares about, but I went to college to study microbiology, all while writing my heart out. (I'm a scientific artist with no college degree to speak of, bite me.) As someone who was trying to understand how an accident could trigger a certain illness, I was... extremely interested in DNA and RNA research, so I know about telomeres, what they're used for, and how they date cells.

Telomeres are essentially chains of "useless" information both at the beginning and end of a chromosome. It's usually all the same letter (AAAAAAAAA), which would just be junk code should it be read by the genetic "program" that creates everything you need to be alive. However, it's not meant to be read. It's meant to protect the genes during mitosis (the process that creates new cells to either help you grow or replace the dying cells).

Mitosis, like any process, is not without flaws. Data is lost and accidents happen, which is why the telomeres are there. If an actual gene gets snipped, it's a problem for all future cells of this line. If a telomere gets snipped, it's junk coding, and your data is protected.

However, those telomeres, in healthy cells, are a finite resource. As we age, those telomeres get shorter and shorter, putting us more and more at risk for genetic information being cut by the mitosis process. That's how you can age a cell, and that's likely why Dolly (the cloned sheep) died so early in life. Her telomeres were likely super short, and so her life expectancy dropped at an alarming rate.

But note how I said "healthy". There is one thing, one illness that we all know that reverses this and actually makes it so that cells technically don't age.

Cancer.

Fact check me if you need to. I won't begrudge you. But yes, this is why cancer is so fucking terrifying. It deages cells and only leaves those cells with one goal: replication. This is why any cancer is so dangerous and why growths are checked. It's cell replication. Unregulated cell multiplication. And it also traps the telomeres where they were and refuses to let them shorten.

If the telomeres of the turtles don't shorten, then they don't age. They don't change. However, we see them go from toddlers to teenagers and even to adults in certain cases. They do age.

I would expect them to have a life expectancy of maybe 100 years, maybe longer, but they would.

And as someone who explored the effects of immortality on a person... maybe that's a good thing.

Yall.. what do you think the lifespan of the rise boys is?

[cosmicalbot]

might not be able to draw them, but dammit I will paint a gorgeous ass word picture of all the voices and long quiet if it kills me

[jupiterpilgrim]

Embracing the Mission

Christmas Special 🎄

Julie x Natty x Belle x Male Reader

word count 14K

A/n: last fic of the Christmas Special

Christmas Eve. Quiet, solemn, lonely. The kind of night where you can’t decide if you’re grateful for the silence or crushed beneath its weight. You drag yourself up the stairs, the old wood creaking under your feet. The dull glow of Christmas lights spills from the living room, blinking in patterns that feel more mocking than festive. You’ve always been a good guy, the dependable one, the “nice” one, but here you are, one stocking hung, one bed waiting for nobody but yourself.

At the top of the stairs, just as your hand brushes the railing, the doorbell rings.

You freeze.

Who the hell rings a doorbell on Christmas Eve this late? Solicitors don’t work tonight, and your neighbors barely talk to you during daylight hours. For a long moment, you consider ignoring it. Then it rings again—insistent, cheery.

You shuffle back down, mumbling under your breath about late-night pranks and cold drafts. Pulling the door open, you’re met with a sight that doesn’t just stop your breath; it slams it into reverse.

Two girls stand on your porch. They’re stunning in a way that should be illegal. The first one has curves so generous they practically defy gravity, her chest straining against a red and green corset that looks stitched from mischief itself. Her long, dark hair frames a face you could mistake for angelic if not for the sly twinkle in her eyes.

“Hi! I’m Natty!” she says brightly, as if this is the most normal introduction in the world.

Beside her, the other one radiates an entirely different energy: poised, commanding, her toned body wrapped in something close to a uniform, sharp lines of green velvet hugging her hips. Her dark brown hair glints in the soft light, and the arch of her brow suggests she’s used to being in charge.

“I’m Julie,” she says, her voice smoother, more measured. Then, in perfect unison, they chirp:

“And we need your help!”

You blink. Then you blink again. “Uh…”

“Wait, where’s Belle?” Julie cuts you off, her brow furrowing as she scans the space behind you.

“Typical,” Natty groans, folding her arms beneath her chest, which only makes the situation more distracting. “Always late.”

Before you can process any of this, a loud thunk echoes from inside your house, followed by a flurry of soot and a muffled cough. Spinning around, you see something—a someone—sprawled across your fireplace hearth.

“What the hell—”

The girl clambers to her feet, brushing coal dust off a mess of blonde hair. She's the same height as that other girl, Julie. With delicate features and wide, apologetic dark eyes that suggest she’s either innocent or very good at faking it. She’s wearing a short red dress streaked with ash, and she’s scowling as if this is somehow your fault.

“Belle!” Natty snaps. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You said to come in sneaky!” Belle protests, hands on her hips. “The chimney’s sneaky!”

“Not that sneaky, dumbass,” Julie groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Even Santa Claus doesn’t actually use chimneys. That’s a marketing thing.”

“You said stealth!” Belle shoots back, still smudged with coal and radiating indignation. “Stealth means unconventional entry points! It’s basic infiltration tactics!”

“I swear, I’m going to—” Natty starts, but Julie waves her off, taking a deep breath.

“Let’s just… move on. The whole night’s a disaster already.”

With that, they sweep past you and invade your home.

“Okay, hold up,” you interrupt, raising your hands. “Who are you people, and why are you in my house?!”

Julie turns her piercing gaze on you, suddenly all business. “We’re Santa’s elves.”

You stare. They stare back.

“…Elves,” you repeat.

“Uh-huh,” Natty confirms, nodding so enthusiastically that her chest threatens to break free of its corset.

Belle perks up. “Yeah! We work at the North Pole!” She pauses, then adds, “Well, usually. Technically, we’re on maternity leave before the fact.”

“Maternity leave?”

Julie steps forward, her voice low and commanding. “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. The birth rate in the North Pole is… concerningly low. Like, end-of-our-species low. We need help. Specifically, your help.”

“…My help,” you echo, your brain lagging behind the speed of this conversation.

Natty leans in, her lips quirking in a teasing smile. “We need you to get us pregnant.”

For a moment, the world tilts sideways. “Is this some kind of weird prank? Am I being filmed?”

“It sounds fake, doesn’t it?” Belle says, skipping over to you with a little bounce in her step. “But it’s totally true! Look—” She grabs your hand and drags it toward her head.

“Whoa, what are you—”

“Feel my ear!”

You hesitate, then give in, tugging lightly at one of her pointy ears. It’s soft, warm, pliant, and very much attached to her skull.

“Ow!” she yelps, batting your hand away. “What are you, a sadist?”

“They’re real,” you whisper, finally starting to believe them.

“Duh,” Natty says with a smirk. “So? You in?”

Your laugh comes out half-hysterical. “You think I’m just going to say yes to… to that?!”

Julie crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve always been a good boy. Generous, kind, single…”

“That’s why I’m single!” you snap, throwing your hands in the air. “I don’t go around impregnating random women—elf women—on Christmas!”

“See?” Belle chimes in. “He is perfect. I told you.”

You groan, running a hand down your face. “This can’t be happening.”

“It’s happening,” Natty says, stepping closer. Her scent—cinnamon and something sweeter—fills your lungs, and suddenly the room feels ten degrees hotter.

Julie’s voice softens, almost coaxing. “All we’re asking is that you help save a species. A race. Think of it as… the ultimate Christmas gift.”

Belle pipes up, already raiding your kitchen. “If you'll excuse me, I'm hungry!”

Natty plops herself onto your couch like she owns the place, her corset straining as she lounges back, legs crossed. Belle's rifling through your fridge now, pulling out milk like this is her second home, while Julie perches herself neatly on the armrest of the chair across from you, her hands clasped like she’s about to break into a corporate PowerPoint presentation.

Julie clears her throat. “All right, let’s break this down. The North Pole is in crisis.”

“Oh, no,” you deadpan, flopping into the recliner. “Is Mrs. Claus filing for divorce? Did Santa get caught in a Ponzi scheme?”

Belle laughs from the kitchen, milk mustache and all. Natty, meanwhile, grins. “Ooh, I like him. He’s got jokes.”

“Let’s stay focused,” Julie says sharply, shooting a glare at both of them before turning back to you. “It’s not a joke. The population at the Pole is dwindling. Our fertility rates have been tanking for decades.”

“Have you ever considered having sex with other elves?” you ask

“Ha,” Julie deadpans. “No. It’s a genetic bottleneck problem. Too much inbreeding, not enough diversity.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Am I about to be roped into a weird elf eugenics experiment? I didn’t sign up for this.”

Natty leans forward, her cleavage doing distracting things that seem entirely intentional. “You’re not roped into anything, sweetheart. But let’s just say you’ve been on the Nice List for decades. That’s not common. We figured, hey, why not pick someone who’s already a certified good boy?”

Belle chimes in from the kitchen, still munching on what might be your last box of Oreos. “And it’s not like you’ve got any plans tonight, right?”

You glare at her. “I could’ve had plans.”

“With who?” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she holds up a half-eaten cookie. “These? Didn’t think so.”

Julie rubs her temples like she’s dealing with toddlers. “The point is, the North Pole relies on elves to keep everything running smoothly. Toy production, reindeer care, Santa’s logistics—”

“—the strip club down on Candy Cane Lane—” Natty interjects with a wink.

Julie doesn’t miss a beat. “—all of it requires a stable population. We’re dangerously low. If we don’t start producing new elves, the entire system collapses.”

“Okay, but why me?” you ask, gesturing at yourself like there must be some mistake. “There’s eight billion people on the planet. You couldn’t have found someone… better qualified?”

Natty shrugs. “Most people don’t qualify for the Nice List. And a lot of the ones who do are, like, seven years old.”

“Or old ladies who bake cookies for their neighbors,” Belle adds.

“And you’re… what? Prime reproductive age? Decent genetics? Plus, you live alone, so no messy drama with spouses or girlfriends. Frankly, you’re the perfect candidate,” Julie finishes matter-of-factly.

You snort. “Wow, thanks. Nothing boosts a guy’s ego like being told he’s a walking sperm donor with no social life.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Natty says, standing up and sauntering over to you. She plants her hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until her face is inches from yours. “You’re also cute.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second before you manage to sputter, “Girls, this is crazy. It sounds like something out of an erotic fiction written by a sick mind.”

“It’s practical,” Julie counters. “We’re not asking you to marry us. We’re asking for your… genetic material. Through, uh, direct methods.”

“Oh, is that all?” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sure, let me just whip out my North Pole application and put ‘elf breeding kink’ under special skills.”

Belle wanders over now, plopping onto the couch and curling her legs beneath her. “Look, it’s not like you’re doing it for free. Think of it as an exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You get to help save Christmas and have sex with three hot elves. Win-win, right? It's not that difficult, elves are very, very fertile.”

Natty grins, her lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as she whispers, “Bet no one’s ever left that off their bucket list.”

You shove her away gently, shaking your head. “You’re all insane. I should call the cops.”

“Oh, please,” Belle scoffs. “What’re you gonna say? ‘Help, three elves broke into my house and asked me to impregnate them’? You’d be on YouTube before the night’s over.”

“Wait, do elves also watch YouTube?”

Julie sighs, standing up and dusting off her hands. “Listen, we’ll give you some time to think about it. But let’s be clear—this isn’t just about us. It’s about every elf, every reindeer, every child who wakes up on Christmas morning hoping for magic.”

"Be mindful, this could be a total game-changer!” Belle exclaims. “Imagine if other elves join us, we'd have the numbers to make the North Pole council change their rules. Interracial babies for everyone! It would be legendary!” She's clearly excited about the idea.

“That’s a lot of pressure,” you mutter.

Natty strokes your arm, her smile equal parts playful and predatory. “You’ll rise to the occasion. I can feel it.”

Belle snickers. “Or we’ll make you.”

—

You shut your bedroom door, leaning against it like it might keep the insanity out. Your room feels smaller, tighter, like the walls are closing in on you. You sink onto the edge of the bed, staring at your hands, the events of the last hour replaying in loops too ridiculous to comprehend.

Three elves. Pregnant. By you.

You look at the glow-in-the-dark clock on your wall, its numbers mocking you. Midnight, Christmas Day. The kind of moment that should be filled with a warm cup of cocoa, maybe a silly Christmas movie in the background. Instead, you’re debating whether to turn your house into the world’s weirdest fertility clinic.

You groan, dragging your hands through your hair. It’s not like you’re against the idea. They’re beautiful—beyond beautiful—but this isn’t just some quick hookup. They’re asking for something bigger. Permanent. And yeah, it’d be easy to chalk it up to a crazy story you tell yourself later, but you can’t stop thinking about what it would mean.

Kids. Real, flesh-and-blood kids. Yours.

You’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know how heavy the quiet can get. It’s not the sex you’re hesitating about—it’s what comes after. You can’t just pump and dump (so to speak). That’s not who you are.

A burst of laughter from the living room pulls you out of your spiral. You push yourself off the bed and head to the door. Whatever decision you make, it’s better than sitting here stewing in your own head.

When you step back into the living room, they’re sprawled across your couch like they’ve lived here for years. The TV’s on, tuned to some Christmas classic, though the sound’s muted. Natty’s flipping through your Blu-ray collection, shaking her head at your lack of romantic comedies. Belle’s halfway through a bag of chips you’re pretty sure you were saving for New Year’s.

“You know, those were mine,” you say, pointing at the chips.

She grins, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. “Finders, eaters.”

Julie barely glances up from where she’s scrolling on your phone. “So? Have you come to your senses?”

You take a deep breath, stepping further into the room. “I’ve made my decision.”

The room goes still. Belle pauses mid-chew. Natty freezes with a DVD case in hand. Julie sits up straighter, her eyes locked on you like a hawk.

“I’ll do it,” you say. “On one condition.”

Natty perks up immediately. “Name it, stud.”

“I want to see the kids.”

The room practically tilts sideways with the weight of their confusion.

Julie narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to just… make them and never see them again,” you explain, running a hand over the back of your neck. “If we’re doing this, I want to be part of their lives. I want to know them. I want to have a family.”

They all stare at you like you just grew a second head. Even Belle, who has been entirely food-focused until now, sets the chips down to gape at you.

Julie is the first to recover, though her tone is softer now. “Why? That wasn’t part of the deal. You’d be doing your… civic duty, so to speak. Why do you care what happens after?”

You shrug, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I made a mistake. I don’t want to be a ghost in their lives. Hell, I don’t even have anyone now, let alone a family. Maybe this is my chance.”

That last part slips out before you can stop it, and you immediately regret how vulnerable it sounds.

The elves exchange glances. Natty bites her lip, Julie furrows her brow, and Belle just looks vaguely guilty. Without a word, they huddle together in the corner, whispering furiously.

“Oh, come on, you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” you call out, gesturing to their huddle.

“Shh!” Natty waves a dismissive hand at you, her voice muffled. “We’re deliberating.”

Belle glances back at you once, her lips twitching like she might smile. Julie smacks her on the arm, dragging her back into their huddle.

After what feels like an eternity, they break apart, turning to face you with synchronized seriousness. Julie steps forward as the spokesperson.

“Alright. We’ll allow it.”

“Allow it?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she continues, ignoring your tone. “It’s unconventional, but you’ve proven yourself to be… an exceptionally good boy.”

Natty snickers. “You’re, like, too good. It’s almost weird.”

Belle beams. “It’s sweet!”

You exhale, relief flooding through you. “Okay, good. Then we’re all on the same page.”

Julie smirks, tilting her head toward the hallway. “We are. Now, let’s get started.”

Before you can process her words, Natty grabs one hand, Julie takes the other, and they start tugging you toward the bedroom.

“Wait, right now?” you stammer, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“Uh, yeah,” Natty says, throwing a playful wink over her shoulder. “You’re not getting out of this, Mister Family Man.”

Belle trails behind, licking chip dust off her fingers as she grins, a new bag in the other hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait my turn. I’m still eating.”

The door to your bedroom looms closer, and for the first time all night, you realize you might actually be in over your head.

—

The bedroom feels both foreign and familiar, lit softly by the glow of Christmas lights strung around the window. Julie and Natty waste no time, their hands still locked around yours as they pull you toward the bed, their intentions as clear as the sly smiles on their faces. Your heart hammers in your chest as the door clicks shut behind Belle, her footsteps slow and casual.

Natty is the first to spin around, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as she steps in close, the scent of peppermint and something deeper, muskier, teasing your senses. Julie mirrors her movements, sliding behind you with a grace that’s almost predatory, her hands grazing your shoulders.

You’re caught between them, their bodies pressed against you—soft and warm in all the right places. Julie’s lips ghost over your ear, her voice a low purr. “You’re nervous. Don’t be. We’ll make this… unforgettable.”

Natty chuckles, her hands already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “Oh, he’s already enchanted. Look at him.”

And she’s not wrong. Your gaze flickers to her pointed ears, impossibly cute, twitching slightly as she speaks. You can’t help yourself; your hand lifts, fingers brushing the curve of one. She gasps softly, her body trembling against you.

“Sensitive, huh?” you murmur, surprised by your own boldness.

Natty smirks, leaning into your touch. “You’ve got no idea.”

Julie’s hands are more decisive, sliding down your chest as Natty tugs your shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare to the room’s cool air. Her nails drag lightly across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Behind you, Julie’s fingers work at your belt, a faint laugh escaping her lips as she feels the bulge already straining against your jeans. “Well, someone’s eager.”

“You’re the ones who dragged me in here,” you shoot back, though your voice is breathless.

Natty steps back, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as her fingers move to the laces of her corset. She catches your gaze, a teasing smile curving her lips as she deliberately slows, each pull on the strings heightening the anticipation. Bit by bit, the tension gives way, and her ample cleavage begins to spill over, the fabric struggling to contain her.

With a final tug, the corset slackens, and she slides it down her torso, her movements fluid, almost hypnotic. The garment falls away, revealing the smooth, unblemished plane of her skin, glowing in the dim light. Her breasts, full and impossibly perfect, sway slightly with her motion, their weight almost defying reason, nipples already stiffened peaks begging for attention.

Natty doesn’t stop there. Her hands travel lower, unfastening her skirt and letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it, the shift leaving her in only a pair of thin, lacy panties clinging to her hips. Her fingers hook into the waistband, and she peels them down inch by inch, the reveal torturously slow until the fabric slides off completely, leaving her bare.

She stands there unabashed, her toned figure on full display, the curves of her hips leading to the bare mound of her pussy, glistening slightly in the light. She tosses the corset aside with a devilish grin, her eyes locking onto yours.

“Like what you see?” she teases, palming her own chest and giving it a little bounce.

Before you can answer, Julie tugs your pants and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving your cock springing free, hard and ready. She hums appreciatively, her sharp eyes glinting as she reaches out to grip it lightly, her fingers warm and confident.

Belle, meanwhile, has claimed the armchair in the corner, Opening the new bag of chips. She crosses her legs, leaning back like she’s settling in for a show.

“Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice light and amused. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“More like immoral support,” Natty quips, stepping out of the rest of her clothes to reveal curves that could have been sculpted by a god. Her hips sway as she moves closer, and you can’t help but stare, utterly captivated.

You sit on your bed, Julie begins to unbutton the top of her elven uniform, sensually removing the velvet from her skin, The red lingerie reveals her medium-sized, round and perfectly formed breasts that, combined with her smooth skin, leave you almost drooling. She slides down to her knees in front of you, her dark brown hair pooling around her shoulders as she gazes up at you with a wicked grin. “All right, let’s set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” you echo, your brain barely functioning under the weight of what’s happening.

“I’m going first,” she says simply, her hand stroking your length with slow, deliberate precision. “I’ll be the first one pregnant. But first…” Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “We’ve gotta get you nice and ready.”

Natty giggles, pressing herself against your side, her breasts warm and soft against your arm. “Oh, he’s ready. Look at him.”

Julie doesn’t respond, too focused as she leans in, her tongue tracing a line along the underside of your cock. The sensation sends a shiver racing up your spine, and you grip the edge of the bed for support.

“Jesus,” you breathe, your head falling back.

“Not quite,” Julie murmurs, her lips wrapping around the tip.

Her mouth is warm, wet, and devastatingly skilled as she takes you deeper, her tongue swirling in maddening patterns. Natty watches with a smirk, her fingers trailing down your chest, her nails scraping lightly against your skin.

Belle’s voice drifts over from the chair, smug and teasing. “Damn, Julie. Save some for the rest of us.”

Julie pulls back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your slick length. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn.”

Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your jaw as she whispers, “She likes to make a mess. You should see her when she’s serious.”

You groan, caught between the relentless heat of Julie’s mouth and the soft press of Natty’s body against yours.

Julie doesn’t waste a second. She tightens her grip at the base of your cock, guiding it back between her lips with the kind of confidence that only comes from experience—or maybe instinct. Her mouth is pure heaven: warm, wet, and impossibly tight as she takes you deeper, her cheeks hollowing with every movement.

The sight of her on her knees, her brown dark hair falling around her flushed face, has you twitching in her mouth, and she hums in approval, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight through you. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and mischievous, as her tongue swirls around your head before she dives lower, taking you all the way in until your cock is brushing the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Julie,” you groan, your hips jerking forward instinctively.

Natty laughs softly from beside you, her full, bare breasts pressed against your arm as she leans in. “She’s a pro, isn’t she? Makes you wonder what other surprises she’s hiding.”

Her voice drips with teasing warmth, and you turn your head, unable to resist the lure of her body. Her tits are huge—soft and heavy, nipples stiff and begging for attention. You cup one in your hand, marveling at the weight of it, and she shivers, biting her lip.

“Don’t be shy,” she murmurs, pushing herself closer. “I’ve got plenty to keep you busy.”

Your mouth finds her nipple, hot and eager, and she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair as you suck gently, your tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. Her skin is soft and smooth under your lips, and you move to her other breast, giving it the same attention as her moans grow louder.

Meanwhile, Julie’s pace is relentless, her head bobbing as she works your cock with a combination of tongue, lips, and sheer determination. The obscene sounds of her mouth—wet, messy, and utterly filthy—fill the room, mingling with Natty’s soft cries and the distant hum of Christmas lights.

Belle, still perched in the chair with her snacks, snorts. “Damn, Julie, you trying to drown him? I can hear that slurping from here.”

Julie pulls back just enough to shoot Belle a look, her lips glistening with spit. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you’d do something useful for once.”

Belle grins, taking a lazy sip of her milk. “I am doing something. I’m observing. Documenting this historic moment. You’re welcome.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Julie mutters before turning her focus back to you.

She grips your cock tighter, her other hand cupping your balls as her mouth slides down again, taking you even deeper this time. The wet heat of her throat surrounds you, and you can’t stop the groan that tears from your chest, your hips bucking slightly.

“Careful,” Natty teases, her voice breathy as you switch back to her other nipple, sucking harder this time. “You don’t want to choke her. She’s got a small throat.”

Julie glares up at her, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her movements faster, rougher, as if to prove a point. The slick noises of her blowjob grow louder, lewd and shameless, and your legs tremble as she works you closer to the edge.

“Holy fuck,” you manage to gasp, your hand gripping her hair as she takes you all the way again, her lips flush against the base of your cock.

Belle claps mockingly from the chair. “Bravo! Give the girl a medal. Or maybe a towel. She’s making a mess.”

You glance down and see that she’s right—Julie’s chin is glistening with spit, and a thin line of drool drips from her mouth to the floor. She doesn’t care. If anything, she leans into it, her hands stroking you as she pulls back to catch her breath, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock.

“God, you’re a mess,” you say, half-laughing, half-moan.

Julie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her grin wicked. “You fucking love it.”

And she’s not wrong.

Natty, watching from your side, lets out a low chuckle, her hands sliding down her own curves.

“You’re hogging all the fun,” Natty purrs, leaning forward, her full breasts pressing against your side. “Don’t you believe in sharing, Julie? It is Christmas.”

Julie raises an eyebrow, her tongue flicking out to lick a stray bead of spit from her lips. “Think you can keep up?”

Natty grins, already dropping to her knees beside Julie. “Try me.”

Your cock twitches at the sight of them kneeling together, their hair—a mix of raven-black and chestnut brown—falling around their faces like something out of a dirty dream. Natty’s hand joins Julie’s, her grip firm but teasing as she strokes you alongside her.

“Damn, you’re big,” Natty murmurs, her fingers wrapping around your shaft as she glances up at you. “Santa Claus really chose the right guy.”

Julie rolls her eyes but leans forward again, her lips brushing the tip of your cock as Natty keeps stroking. “Quit talking and get to work,” she mutters before taking you back into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

Natty doesn’t miss a beat. She leans in from the side, her tongue darting out to lick along your shaft, tracing every vein with slow, deliberate strokes. Her lips are soft and warm as they move lower, trailing down to your balls, and you nearly lose your balance as her mouth closes around one, sucking gently.

“Holy shit,” you groan, your head falling back as they work in perfect sync.

Julie pulls off with a wet pop, her lips curling into a smirk. “He likes that. Don’t stop, Natty.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Natty replies, her voice muffled as she switches to your other ball, her tongue swirling in slow circles.

Julie takes you back into her mouth, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm that leaves you trembling. She takes you deeper this time, her throat tightening around your cock as she moves faster, her hand stroking what she can’t fit. Natty’s hands roam, one gripping your thigh while the other strokes the base of your shaft in time with Julie’s movements.

“You two are gonna kill me,” you manage to gasp, your hands tangling in their hair as pleasure courses through you.

Natty pulls back just enough to laugh, her lips shiny with spit. “Kill you? Baby, we’re just getting started.”

She leans up, her mouth joining Julie’s at the tip of your cock, their tongues meeting in a wet, messy kiss around you. The sight alone is almost enough to make you lose it—two gorgeous girls, their mouths working together, their spit mixing as they trade kisses and licks across your length.

“God, that’s hot,” Belle mutters from the armchair, her voice low and lazy. You glance over to see her lounging with one leg draped over the armrest. “I’d offer to join, but you two look like you’ve got it handled.”

Julie shoots her a glare without pulling her mouth away, her tongue swirling around your head before she pushes you deep again. Natty giggles, licking a long stripe up your shaft before wrapping her lips around the base, her hand stroking in tandem with Julie’s bobbing head.

The combination is overwhelming—Julie’s throat tightening around you, Natty’s tongue teasing every sensitive spot, their hands and mouths working together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Your legs shake, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as they push you closer and closer to the edge.

You pull back, your cock slick with their spit, and both women look up at you in surprise, lips swollen, faces flushed.

“Stop,” you pant, your voice rough. “I need more. Julie—get on the bed.”

Julie’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Finally ready to stop playing around, huh?”

She stands gracefully, peeling off the scraps of her lingerie as she moves. Her body is toned and lithe, her skin gleaming in the soft glow of the Christmas lights outside, visible through the window. Her breasts are perky, her waist narrow, and when she turns to climb onto the bed, you can’t stop yourself from staring at her ass—big, perfectly round, the kind of ass that seems sculpted to be fucked.

Natty is already lying on her back, her legs spread wide, her glistening pussy on full display. She props herself up on her elbows, watching the two of you with a grin. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Don’t be shy, Julie. Show him how it’s done.”

Julie positions herself on all fours, her back arched and her cheeks raised in invitation. She glances over her shoulder, her dark eyes filled with challenge and anticipation. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

You don’t need to be told twice. Climbing onto the bed behind her, you grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft, supple skin. Her pussy is already dripping, her arousal glistening in the light, and you drag the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her.

“Come on, shove it in my pussy,” she snaps, her voice sharp but laced with need.

“Patience,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her lower back before pressing the tip of your cock against her entrance.

Julie growls softly, but her breath hitches as you push inside, the tight heat of her pussy clamping around you. She’s wet and snug, her walls pulsing as you slide deeper, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from losing it right there.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you groan, gripping her hips tighter as you bottom out, your cock buried to the hilt.

Julie’s head drops forward, her hands fisting in the sheets. “Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Don’t hold back.”

Natty’s laugh draws your attention, and you glance up to see her spreading herself wider, her fingers teasing her folds as she watches. “Don’t let her boss you around too much,” she teases. “She likes it rough. Don’t you, Julie?”

Julie doesn’t respond with words, just a guttural moan as you pull back and thrust into her again, harder this time. Her ass jiggles with the force, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Natty coos, her voice thick with arousal. She moves closer, her legs spreading even wider. “C’mere, Julie. You’ve got work to do.”

Julie doesn’t hesitate, leaning forward until her mouth is hovering over Natty’s dripping pussy. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive flesh, and Natty gasps, her hips bucking up toward Julie’s mouth.

“God, that’s good,” Natty moans, her fingers tangling in Julie’s hair.

The sight of Julie buried between Natty’s thighs, her ass raised high and rocking back against you, is enough to drive you insane. You grip her hips harder, your thrusts growing faster and rougher, each one making her moan louder into Natty’s pussy.

“Fuck, Julie,” you growl, your voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

She hums in response, the vibrations making Natty cry out, her legs trembling as she grinds against Julie’s face.

“Don’t stop,” Natty gasps, her eyes fluttering shut. “God, you’re both so good.”

Julie’s moans are muffled by Natty’s pussy, but the way she clenches around your cock with every thrust tells you she’s just as lost in the moment as you are. You lean over her, one hand sliding up her back, your fingers tangling in her hair as you fuck her harder, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the air.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, your chest heaving.

Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her perch in the corner. “I mean, if you two could make it any louder, that’d be great. I don’t think the neighbors heard you yet.”

“Shut up, Belle,” Julie snarls, her voice muffled by Natty’s folds.

Natty lets out a breathless laugh, her head falling back as she grinds against Julie’s tongue. “She’s got a point. You two are animals.”

You ignore them, too focused on the way Julie’s pussy grips you, the way her ass bounces with every thrust, the way Natty’s moans grow louder as Julie devours her. It’s raw, messy, and perfect, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out.

You’re buried deep inside Julie, her tight, wet pussy squeezing you like a vice with every thrust. Her big ass bounces against your hips, and you can’t help the low growl that escapes your throat. She’s good—too good—but there’s something you can’t shake, something you need to see.

Leaning over her, your voice comes out rough, ragged. “Julie… twerk on my cock.”

Julie freezes for half a second, her breath hitching. Then, to your surprise, Natty bursts out laughing from her spot beside you, where she’s still sprawled on the bed, her fingers teasing her swollen clit.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Natty purrs, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Twerking’s her specialty. Go on, Julie. Show him what you’ve got.”

Julie glances back over her shoulder, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and amusement. “You think you can handle it?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.

“Try me,” you growl, your hands gripping her hips tighter.

She smirks, planting her palms firmly on the bed as she starts to move. Her hips roll first, slow and deliberate, before she begins to bounce, her ass clapping softly against your thighs. The sensation is unreal—her tight heat milking your cock as her ass jiggles in perfect rhythm, the wet sound of your connection filling the room.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter, your hands sliding down to grip her cheeks, spreading them wide as she works.

Natty props herself up on one elbow, watching with a wicked grin. “Told you. She’s got moves.”

Julie arches her back, her movements growing faster, more intense. She pushes back hard with every bounce, driving your cock deeper inside her, and the sight of her round, flawless ass slamming against you is enough to make your head spin.

“Like that?” she asks breathlessly, glancing back at you.

“Fuck yes,” you groan, raising one hand and bringing it down on her cheek with a sharp smack.

Julie moans, her hips jerking forward slightly before she slams back again, grinding herself against you. “Harder,” she demands, her voice dripping with lust.

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hand comes down again, the slap echoing in the room, leaving a red imprint on her smooth skin. She gasps, pushing back harder, her pussy clenching around you.

“Jesus, Julie,” you growl, your nails digging into her flesh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

From the corner, Belle snickers, her voice lazy but amused. “Yeah, Julie. Work that dick. Milk him dry.”

Julie smirks, but her focus doesn’t waver. Her ass bounces faster, harder, the rhythm hypnotic, and you feel your control slipping as the pleasure builds in your gut, hot and insistent.

“Keep going,” you urge, your voice rough. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. If anything, she doubles down, her movements wild and relentless as she twerks on your cock, her pussy squeezing you tighter with every bounce. Your breaths come faster, your grip on her hips growing almost desperate as the pressure inside you reaches its breaking point.

“Gonna cum,” you gasp, your thrusts growing erratic as you match her pace.

“Do it,” Belle encourages, her tone teasing but firm. “Fill her up. That’s what she’s here for.”

Natty grins, her voice a purr. “Yeah, Julie wants it. Don’t you, baby?”

Julie moans in response, her movements frantic now, her pussy milking you with every thrust. “Fuck, yes,” she gasps. “Cum in me. Fill me up.”

Her words are your undoing. With one final thrust, you bury yourself as deep as you can go, your cock pulsing as you release inside her. The heat of your cum floods her, and she cries out, her body trembling as her own climax ripples through her.

You stay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both of you panting and shaking.

Julie collapses forward, her body trembling, chest heaving against the sheets. You slowly pull out, and the sight stops you in your tracks. Your cock slides free with a slick, wet sound, and thick ropes of your cum immediately start dripping from her swollen, glistening pussy, running down her thighs in sticky trails.

She groans softly, her legs shaking as she shifts to the side, collapsing onto her back. “Holy shit,” she mutters, tossing a glance at Natty. “You’re gonna love this.”

Natty grins, already on her knees beside you, her hands sliding over your chest. “Oh, I know I will.” She nudges Julie with her hip, her voice teasing. “Move over, Julie. My turn.”

Julie chuckles breathlessly but obliges, rolling to the side to give Natty space. Natty wastes no time, her hand already wrapping around your cock, stroking it slowly. You twitch in her grip, still sensitive from your release, but she doesn’t let up, her fingers firm and deliberate.

“You’re not done yet, big guy,” she murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your chest. “We’ve still got work to do.”

Belle snorts from her spot in the chair. “Poor guy looks like he’s already dead. You sure he can keep up?”

“Oh, he can keep up,” Natty replies, her voice full of confidence. She moves lower, her lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin, her hand never stopping its slow, steady strokes.

Julie props herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed on you with a satisfied smirk. “If he can’t, we’ll make him.”

Natty chuckles, her tongue flicking out to tease one of your nipples. The sensation sends a jolt through you, and she grins against your skin. “See? He’s already waking up.”

Her other hand joins in, her nails lightly scraping down your stomach, and your cock twitches again, starting to harden in her grip. She hums in approval, her lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently as her hand works you. Slowly you lie down on the bed, pulling Natty with you. The new position allows you to enjoy the best of her touch comfortably.

Julie leans in from the side, her lips finding your neck. “Yeah, relax,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. “Let us take care of you.”

You exhale shakily, your hands resting on their hips as they move together, their lips and hands exploring every inch of you. Julie’s tongue traces the curve of your jaw, while Natty’s mouth moves lower, her kisses trailing down your chest to your stomach.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow.

Natty glances up at you, her grin wicked. “That’s it. Just let go.”

Her strokes grow firmer, her grip tightening around your cock as it hardens fully again, and she laughs softly. “There we go. Good boy.”

Julie smirks, her lips brushing against your ear. “Told you he’d be ready in no time.”

Natty’s hand slows, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head of your cock, smearing the bead of precum that’s already forming. “He’s perfect,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Belle sighs dramatically from the chair. “All right, Natty, quit hogging him. Let’s see you put that cock to good use.”

Natty laughs, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn. For now…” She straddles your hips, her wet pussy hovering just above your cock. “It’s my turn.”

You grip her hips instinctively, your body already craving her. “Bring it on,” you mutter, your voice rough with desire.

Natty grins, her hands resting on your chest as she positions herself, her eyes locked on yours. “Oh, I will,” she promises, her voice low and teasing. “You’d better keep up.”

She grips your cock, guiding it to her slick, swollen entrance, her wetness coating the head as she teases you with slow, deliberate movements. You groan, your hands tightening on her hips as the head of your cock pushes into her heat, her pussy stretching to take you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow. “You feel… so fucking good.”

She lets out a low, satisfied moan as she sinks all the way down, her thick, curvy body pressing against you. Her pussy grips you like a glove, tight and wet, and you can feel every pulse, every clench as she adjusts to your size. Her breasts bounce slightly with the movement, full and heavy, her nipples stiff and begging to be touched.

Your hands slide up her waist to cup them, marveling at their softness, and she grins down at you, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Like what you see, huh?”

“You’re perfect,” you rasp, your thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her. “Thick, juicy… fuck, Natty, you’re incredible.”

She laughs, low and teasing, her hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate movements. “Careful, big guy. You keep talking like that, and I might actually start thinking you’d make a good husband.”

You chuckle breathlessly, gripping her hips as she rides you, her movements smooth and sensual. “Might not be wrong.”

Natty grins, leaning forward slightly, her breasts brushing against your chest as she moves. Her pussy slides up and down your cock with maddening precision, her pace slow enough to drive you crazy, but steady enough to keep you on the edge.

Your cock, still half-numb from your release with Julie, feels like it’s waking up all over again, the pleasure building slowly but intensely. The way her body moves, her hips rolling, her ass bouncing slightly with every thrust—it’s hypnotic, and you can’t look away.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmur, your hands trailing up her sides to cup her breasts again, squeezing gently.

Natty moans softly, her pace quickening just slightly. “Mmm, keep talking, sweetheart. I like to hear how much you adore me.”

The sight of her, riding you like she’s in control of the entire world, is almost too much to handle. Her thick thighs frame your hips, her juicy breasts sway with every movement, and her dark hair falls around her face in messy waves.

You glance to the side, catching Julie watching intently, her lips parted as she takes in the scene. “Julie,” you call out, your voice rough. “Kiss her.”

Julie’s eyebrows raise slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate. She moves closer, kneeling on the bed beside you. Natty’s eyes flick to her, and a slow, wicked smile spreads across her lips.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Julie murmurs before leaning in.

Their lips meet in a soft, teasing kiss at first, their mouths moving slowly, testing, teasing. Then it deepens, their tongues tangling, and the sight makes your cock twitch inside Natty.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands tightening on her hips as she continues to ride you.

Natty moans into the kiss, her movements growing faster, her pussy squeezing you tighter. Julie’s hands slide up to cup Natty’s face, holding her close as their kiss becomes wetter, messier, their moans mingling in the air.

Your eyes flick to the corner of the room, and your breath catches at the sight of Belle. She’s leaning back in the chair, her dress hiked up around her hips, one hand pressed against her panties. Her fingers move in slow, lazy circles, teasing herself as she watches the three of you.

Her eyes meet yours, and she grins, her cheeks flushed. “Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice low and breathy. “Just enjoying the show.”

The combination of Natty’s bouncing ass, her tight, wet pussy gripping you, the sight of her and Julie kissing hungrily, and Belle touching herself in the corner—it’s overwhelming. The pleasure builds rapidly, every nerve in your body on fire as Natty’s hips grind against you, her pussy gripping your cock with that maddening rhythm that has you teetering on the edge. Her thick, curvy body moving with an expertise that makes it impossible to think straight.

But as much as you love the sight of her riding you like this, there’s one thing you need even more.

“Turn around,” you growl, your hands sliding down to her thighs. “I want to see that fat ass while you ride me.”

Natty’s grin widens, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you like my ass, huh?”

“Love it,” you reply, your voice thick with need. “Now, turn around and show me.”

Natty bites her lip, sliding off you slowly, your cock glistening with her wetness as it slips free. She swings her leg over, turning around to face away from you. And when she lowers herself back down, guiding you into her dripping pussy, the sight is absolutely fucking perfect.

Natty's ass is a fucking spectacle, a fucking masterpiece that deserves to be worshipped. It's not just round and thick; it's fucking voluptuous, a perfect peach that jiggles and bounces with every damn movement. As she sinks down onto your cock, you can see her cheeks spreading, swallowing your shaft like it's fucking hungry for it. She glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling in messy waves around her flushed face.

“Better?” she asks, her voice teasing, as she starts to move her hips in slow, grinding circles.

“Fuck yes,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist. “You’re fucking perfect, Natty.”

Natty laughs softly, her hips lifting and dropping in a slow, torturous rhythm that leaves you panting. Her pussy grips you like a vise, the wet sounds of her movements filling the room as she bounces on your cock.

“Look at you,” she purrs, glancing back again. “Losing your mind over my ass, huh?”

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your fingers digging into her hips. “Look at the way it fucking moves.”

She smirks, her pace quickening, her ass clapping against your thighs with every bounce. “Yeah? You like that? You like watching my fat ass swallow your cock?”

“Fucking love it,” you groan, your hips bucking up to meet her movements.

Julie moves in closer, leaning over your chest. Her lips find your neck first, soft and teasing, before trailing down to your chest. “Don’t forget about me,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry.

Her tongue flicks over your nipple, and you shudder, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your already overworked body. She grins against your skin, sucking gently before moving to the other side, her fingers tracing light patterns over your abs.

“You’re lucky we’re letting you take your time,” she teases, her lips brushing against your ear. “Natty could’ve made you cum five minutes ago if she really wanted to.”

Natty laughs, throwing her head back as she rides you harder, her movements wild and relentless now. “He’s just trying to keep up, Julie. Don’t be too hard on him.”

You growl, your grip on Natty’s hips tightening as you thrust up into her, meeting her movements with desperate intensity. The sight of her ass bouncing against you, the wet sounds of her pussy taking you so deep, Julie’s lips on your chest—it’s all too much, but you don’t want it to end.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you groan, your voice ragged. “You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.”

“Good,” Natty shoots back, her voice breathless. “That’s the idea.”

Julie laughs softly, her lips brushing against your neck. “She’s got you right where she wants you.”

Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her spot in the armchair, the voice low and soft, almost a moan, the fingers rubbing in a steady rhythm under her panties. “Pretty sure she’s got all of us right where she wants us. Keep going, Nat. You’re killing it.”

Natty’s pace doesn’t falter, her ass slamming down on your cock with every thrust, her pussy clenching around you like she’s determined to drain you dry. The pleasure is overwhelming, building in waves that threaten to pull you under, but you hold on, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

“Come on,” Natty urges, glancing back at you again. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy. Fucking give it to me.”

Natty’s pace is relentless, her thick ass bouncing against your thighs with obscene, wet smacks as her pussy milks you. The sight of her in reverse cowgirl, riding your cock like she’s possessed, makes your chest tighten and your breath come in ragged gasps. Every bounce sends another jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, the heat in your gut coiling tighter, threatening to snap.

Julie is right on top of you, her lips on your neck, her tongue dragging along the sensitive skin as her fingers pinch and tease your nipples. Each twist and flick sends electric shocks through your body, making your cock twitch inside Natty’s impossibly tight, soaking pussy.

Natty throws her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she grinds her hips in circles, her ass slamming against you with each motion. “Come on,” she growls, glancing over her shoulder at you, her eyes wild with lust. “Pump your cum inside this elf whore's pussy. Fucking fill me up.”

You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft, luscious flesh as you thrust up into her, meeting her every movement. The way her pussy grips you, squeezing and pulling like it’s desperate for your cum, drives you to the edge.

“You want me to fill you?” you growl, your voice thick and rough.

“Fuck yes,” Natty moans, slamming herself down on your cock with even more force. “I want all of it. Every fucking drop. Fill me so full I’ll feel it for days.”

Her words send a shiver through you, and you grip her even tighter, pulling her down hard onto your cock. “Say it,” you demand, your voice harsh. “Tell me you want me to breed you.”

Natty moans louder, her head falling forward as she picks up the pace, her hips moving with a wild urgency. “I want it,” she cries out, her voice high and desperate. “Fuck, I want it so bad. Breed me, baby. Please! Fill me with your fucking cum! Make me yours.”

Julie bites your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as her fingers tease your nipples harder. “Listen to her,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with lust. “She’s fucking crazy for you.”

Belle’s laugh echoes from the corner, her voice breathy. “You better not disappoint her, big guy. She’s counting on you.”

Natty’s movements become frantic, her pussy gripping you like a vise as she slams herself down on your cock over and over again. “Come on,” she begs, her voice cracking with need. “I need it. I need you to fucking cum inside me. Fill me up. Breed me like a fucking slut.”

You’re shaking now, your entire body taut as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. “Fuck, Natty,” you groan, your hips jerking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes!” Natty screams, her hands gripping her thighs as she rides you harder, her movements wild and uncoordinated. “Do it! Cum in me! Breed me, you fucking stud!”

The words tip you over the edge, and with a guttural moan, you thrust up into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as you can go. Your cock pulses, your seed spilling into her in hot, thick waves, and Natty loses it.

Her entire body shakes as she cums, her pussy clamping down on your cock, milking you for every last drop. “Fuck, yes!” she screams, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at her bouncing breasts as her orgasm rips through her.

Julie watches with wide eyes, her lips parted in awe, while Belle groans softly, her hand moving faster under her panties. “Goddamn,” Belle mutters. “That’s fucking hot.”

Natty doesn’t stop. Even as you cum inside her, she keeps riding you, her hips slamming down with an almost violent force, drawing out every ounce of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Take it,” you groan, your voice raw. “Take every fucking drop.”

“Fuck, yes,” Natty moans, her body trembling as her pussy clenches around you, her own release leaving her dripping all over your cock. “I can feel it. So deep. Mmm, so fucking good.”

Finally, she collapses forward onto the bed, her body trembling, your cum leaking from her stuffed pussy as she pants heavily, her face flushed and satisfied. Julie grins, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“You’re a fucking machine,” she whispers against your lips.

Belle laughs, her voice hoarse. “Machine? More like a damn Christmas miracle.”

—

The room smells like sex and sweat, heavy and warm, and you’re sprawled across the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Natty and Julie are curled up on either side of you, their naked bodies pressed against yours like they’ve been there forever. Natty’s thick curves fit snugly against your side, her head resting on your shoulder, while Julie’s toned frame stretches lazily, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your chest.

In the corner, Belle is by the mirror, her dress half off as she scrubs at her skin with a damp washcloth, muttering under her breath about soot and chimneys.

“Should’ve come through the damn door,” she grumbles, glaring at the streaks of black still clinging to her thighs.

“You think?” Julie calls over, her tone dry.

Belle shoots her a look through the mirror but doesn’t respond, focusing instead on her task.

You exhale, finally finding your voice. “Okay, I gotta ask. What’s life like for you guys? The whole elf thing. Is it like a Christmas movie, or is that just marketing bullshit?”

Natty snorts, her fingers trailing lazily down your stomach. “Marketing bullshit. Total propaganda. Santa’s a businessman; he’s gotta sell the magic.”

Julie props herself up on one elbow, smirking. “Don’t get us wrong, it’s not all bad. But it’s not sugar plums and caroling 24/7, either.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing between them. “So, what’s it actually like?”

Natty hums thoughtfully, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Busy as hell, for starters. Prep for Christmas is a year-round thing. You think it's just one day, but getting all those gifts ready for billions of kids? It's insane. And the logistics? Nightmare. Planning routes, checking lists twice, dealing with weather issues, and making sure every kid gets exactly what they want. It’s a year-round hustle.”

Julie nods. “We’ve got divisions for everything: toys, logistics, reindeer care, candy production… Don’t even get me started on the gingerbread sector. Those guys are intense.”

Natty chuckles, nudging you with her hip. “And you know that shit about elves being tiny? Total lie. We’re all like this—” she gestures to her body, curves and all, “—which makes squeezing into some of those old workshops a pain in the ass.”

Belle pipes up from the mirror, still scrubbing at a stubborn patch of ash on her shoulder. “And don’t forget the quotas. Everything’s gotta be done yesterday. Santa’s nice and all, but he’s also a hardass when it comes to deadlines.”

You blink, trying to picture Santa as a stern boss, pacing around with a clipboard and barking orders. “So, he’s not the jolly guy in the red suit?”

Julie laughs. “Oh, he is. But don’t let the ‘ho-ho-ho’ fool you. He runs a tight ship. You miss a deadline, and you’re stuck in snow-shoveling duty for a week.”

“Snow-shoveling duty?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

Natty groans dramatically. “The worst. Endless piles of snow, freezing your ass off while the rest of the team’s inside drinking hot cocoa. It’s brutal.”

Belle, finally satisfied with her cleanup, turns from the mirror, her dress hanging off her shoulders as she walks over to the bed. “And don’t even get me started on reindeer maintenance,” she says, flopping into the armchair nearby. “Those things are divas. You’d think they’d be grateful for the magical oats, but no—Prancer once kicked me because the oats weren’t warm enough.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” you say, grinning.

“It’s not all bad,” Natty says, shrugging. “We’ve got a pretty tight-knit community. Lots of parties, good food, and the sex—” she winks at you, “—is legendary.”

Julie smirks. “And it’s not like we don’t have perks. Free housing, endless candy canes, and when Santa’s in a good mood, he throws these massive celebrations. Think Mardi Gras, but with more glitter.”

Belle laughs. “And more eggnog. So much eggnog.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “I had no idea the North Pole was this wild. I always pictured it… cleaner. Quieter.”

Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Stick around, and maybe we’ll take you there sometime. Show you the real magic.”

Julie hums, her fingers sliding lower on your chest. “But for now, you’re stuck with us. And I’m not hearing any complaints.”

Belle smirks, settling into her chair and crossing her legs. “Not a bad deal, huh?”

You glance around the room—Natty’s warm body pressed against you, Julie’s teasing fingers, Belle’s playful grin—and you can’t help but smile. “Not bad at all.”

The warmth of Julie and Natty pressed against you, their soft bodies against your sides, has you stirring again. It doesn’t take much; their scent, their touch, the memory of the last couple of minutes—it all combines into a haze of arousal that has your cock stiffening between your legs. You glance down, half-laughing at yourself, already semi-hard just from lying there with them.

Natty notices first, her hand brushing lightly over your stomach before trailing lower. She grins when she feels the slight twitch of your cock. “Look who’s ready for round three,” she teases, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.

Julie hums, her fingers joining Natty’s, stroking your chest lightly. “And here I thought we wore him out.”

You chuckle, your breath catching slightly as they touch you. “I guess you underestimated me.”

But your attention shifts to Belle, still perched on the armchair. She’s been quiet, watching, her cheeks flushed pink. “Belle,” you say softly, holding out a hand. “Come here.”

Belle hesitates, glancing between you and the other two before standing. As she approaches, the soft light of the room finally reveals her fully; she’s petite, with small, perky breasts that barely contain their youthful firmness. Her tummy looks soft to the touch, with a gentle curve that accentuates her femininity. It's not flat or toned but deliciously smooth, and only adds to her overall cuteness, making her appear even more delicate and enticing. Her tight, rounded ass complements her figure perfectly, making your cock twitch with anticipation.

She notices you staring and crosses her arms, pretending to be annoyed. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling. “You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flush, and she huffs, climbing onto the bed awkwardly. Julie and Natty make room for her, shifting to the sides, and she kneels between them, looking almost shy.

“I’m not as… experienced as them,” Belle says, her voice quieter than usual.

Natty snickers, leaning against the headboard. “Yeah, no shit. That’s why you stayed in the armchair watching, isn’t it? You were scared.”

“I was not scared!” Belle snaps, glaring at her.

“Sure,” Natty says with a wink.

You reach up, cupping Belle’s cheek gently, and her glare softens as her eyes meet yours. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re perfect. No need to be shy.”

Her lips part slightly, and you lean in, brushing a soft kiss against her mouth. She gasps softly, her body relaxing as she melts into you, her hands resting on your chest as the kiss deepens.

Natty chuckles behind her, and a second later, her hands slide around Belle’s sides, cupping her small breasts. Belle pulls back from the kiss, gasping as Natty’s fingers pinch and tease her nipples. “See?” Natty says with a grin. “I’ll help you out.”

Julie moves closer, her lips brushing against your neck before trailing down to your chest, her fingers dancing over your abs. “Don’t forget about us,” she murmurs, her tongue flicking over one of your nipples, making you shudder.

You look at the three of them—Belle’s small, trembling frame, Natty’s mischievous grin as she teases Belle’s breasts, Julie’s soft lips trailing down your body—and you can’t help but speak. “You’re all incredible,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration. “The most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.”

Julie hums against your chest, her lips curving into a smile. “We’d better be. We’re yours now, after all.”

Natty nods, her hands still on Belle’s breasts. “Once we’re all pregnant, you’re stuck with us. Forever.”

You chuckle softly, your hand sliding between Belle’s thighs, cupping her wet heat. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you murmur, your fingers sliding against her slick folds. “Three perfect girls all to myself? I’ve won the fucking lottery.”

Belle moans softly, her hips jerking against your hand. “You better take good care of us,” she says, her voice breathless.

“I will,” you promise, your fingers brushing against her clit, making her gasp. “I’ll take care of you. All of you.”

Natty grins, her hands sliding down Belle’s sides. “We’ll hold you to that.”

You shift, lying flat on the bed, your hands on Belle’s hips. “Come here,” you say, your voice rough with need. “I want to taste you.”

Belle hesitates for only a moment before nodding, her cheeks still flushed as she straddles your face. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of your head, and she lowers herself slowly, her pink, glistening pussy hovering just above your lips.

You grip her hips, pulling her down, and she gasps as your tongue slides against her folds. She’s sweet and soft, her taste driving you wild as you lick and suck, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Belle moans, her hands gripping the headboard as her hips start to rock against your face.

Julie wastes no time, sliding down the bed to take your cock in her hand. She strokes you slowly at first, her eyes glinting with anticipation, before leaning in to wrap her lips around the head, sucking gently.

Natty grins, positioning herself behind Julie. “Let me help,” she says, her hands spreading Julie’s thighs as her tongue dips between them, licking along Julie’s folds.

The sensation of Belle grinding on your face, Julie’s warm mouth on your cock, and the sound of Natty’s tongue working between Julie’s legs is almost overwhelming. You groan into Belle’s pussy, your hands tightening on her hips as you pull her closer, devouring her like you can’t get enough.

Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling above you. “Oh, God,” she gasps, her hips moving faster. “You’re so… fucking good at this.”

Julie hums around your cock, her tongue swirling around the head as she takes you deeper. Natty’s muffled moans from behind her only add to the intensity, and you can feel yourself growing harder with every passing second.

Belle’s soft thighs frame your face as she rides your tongue, her sweet, pink pussy dripping with arousal as you devour her. Your hands grip her hips, guiding her movements as you flick your tongue over her clit, sucking it gently before dipping back into her folds. Every little gasp and moan she makes sends a jolt of satisfaction through you, urging you to go harder, deeper.

Above you, Belle’s voice trembles. “Oh, fuck… Oh, God, yes… That’s so fucking good.” Her fingers grip the headboard, her hips moving erratically as she chases her pleasure. “I can’t—oh, my fucking God—”

Meanwhile, Julie has taken your cock in her mouth, her lips stretched around your length as she works you with a fervor that leaves you trembling. She alternates between slow, deliberate bobs and deep, greedy sucks that have your cock twitching in her throat. Her tongue swirls around the head each time she pulls back, lapping at the precum that beads there before taking you deep again, her nose brushing against your pelvis.

Julie moans softly around your cock, her throat vibrating against you as she feels Natty’s hands spreading her ass cheeks from behind. “Natty—what are you—”

Her words cut off into a sharp cry as Natty’s tongue presses against her asshole, teasing the tight ring of muscle with slow, wet strokes. Julie’s body jerks, and her hips push back involuntarily as Natty’s tongue slips inside, swirling and licking with expert precision.

“Fuck,” Julie gasps, pulling off your cock long enough to catch her breath. Her hand strokes you in quick, firm movements as she groans, her voice trembling. “Natty, you’re such a—oh, fuck—such a filthy bitch.”

Natty grins against her, her tongue plunging deeper as her hands knead Julie’s ass. “Damn right,” she murmurs, her voice muffled. “Now keep sucking him, Julie. I’m just getting started back here.”

Julie shivers but obeys, taking your cock back into her mouth with a loud, wet slurp. She’s even more eager now, her lips moving faster, her hand stroking the base in time with her bobs. The combined sensations of her warm, slick mouth and Belle’s pussy grinding on your tongue make your head spin, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure.

Belle’s voice grows higher, more desperate, as her movements become frantic. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”

You grip her hips tighter, pulling her down hard against your mouth as your tongue flicks over her clit again and again. Her thighs tremble around your head, and she cries out, her body shaking as her orgasm crashes over her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Belle screams, her hips grinding against your face as you lick her through her climax, her juices dripping down your chin.

Julie moans around your cock, her mouth moving faster as Natty’s tongue works deeper into her ass, licking and teasing with an intensity that leaves her trembling. She pulls back with a gasp, her hand still stroking you as she throws her head back, her voice breaking. “Fuck, Natty, you’re gonna make me cum!”

Natty chuckles, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as her tongue plunges even deeper, her wet, messy sounds mingling with the obscene noises of Julie’s blowjob. “Do it,” Natty growls. “Cum for us, Julie. Let him hear how good it feels.”

Julie’s moans grow louder, her hand tightening around your cock as she strokes you harder, her other hand gripping the sheets. Her body shakes, her voice rising into a scream as her orgasm hits, her thighs clenching around Natty’s face.

“Fuck!” Julie cries, her body jerking as she cums, her hand squeezing your cock as she moans uncontrollably.

Belle slowly climbs off you, her thighs trembling slightly as she kneels beside you on the bed, her flushed face framed by messy blonde hair. She’s still catching her breath, her lips parted, her chest heaving, but the smile she gives you is soft, almost shy.

“You’re fucking amazing,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No wonder they can’t get enough of you.”

You grin, still tasting her juices on your lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, and her eyes dart down to your cock—still rock-hard and glistening with Julie’s spit. She bites her lip, her gaze darkening with anticipation.

“You ready for more?” you ask, sitting up slightly.

Belle nods quickly. “Yeah.”

You guide her onto her back, spreading her legs gently as she lies beneath you. Her small, cute frame is stretched out on the bed, her soft tummy rising and falling with her breaths, her wet, pink pussy practically begging for you. You position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock brushing against her entrance.

Julie leans back on the bed beside you, her lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Better not scare her off, big guy. She’s still new to all this.”

Belle glares at her but doesn’t respond, her attention fixed entirely on you as you lean over her. Your hands rest on her hips, your cock pressing more firmly against her slick folds, and she shivers.

But before you can push inside, Natty’s voice cuts through the moment. “Wait!”

You both glance up to see her hopping off the bed, her naked body moving with purpose as she heads toward the door.

“Where the hell are you going?” Julie calls after her, annoyed.

Natty doesn’t stop, her voice trailing back. “I saw something in the kitchen. Be right back!”

The three of you exchange confused looks, but you shrug, your attention shifting back to Belle. “Don’t worry about her,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her softly.

Belle sighs into the kiss, her hands sliding up to rest on your shoulders as you position yourself again. But just as you’re about to push inside, Natty bursts back into the room, climbing onto the bed with something in her hand.

“I’m back!” she announces triumphantly, holding up a candy cane like it’s a trophy.

Julie’s eyes narrow, immediately suspicious. “What the fuck are you doing with that?”

Natty grins wickedly, crawling onto the bed and motioning for Julie to lie down. “Trust me, you’ll like this.”

Julie raises an eyebrow but complies, lying back and spreading her legs slightly. “You’re such a dirty whore,” she mutters, though her tone is more amused than annoyed.

Natty winks. “Takes one to know one.”

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to wet the candy cane before sliding it into her mouth, sucking it slowly. The sight is obscene—her lips wrapped around the striped treat, her tongue swirling over it like she’s giving it the blowjob of its life. When she pulls it out, it’s glistening, coated in her spit.

Belle watches the scene with wide eyes, her breath hitching. “Holy shit,” she whispers, her hands clutching the sheets.

Natty moves between Julie’s legs, guiding the candy cane to her ass. She circles the tight ring of muscle slowly, teasing it, and Julie’s body tenses.

“Relax,” Natty purrs, her other hand stroking Julie’s thigh. “You’re gonna love this.”

Julie groans, her head falling back. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”

“Shut up and enjoy it,” Natty replies, pushing the candy cane in slowly.

Julie gasps as it slides inside, her body arching slightly. “Fuck,” she moans, her hands gripping the sheets.

The sight is enough to drive Belle over the edge. She looks up at you, her eyes blazing with need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I can’t wait anymore. Fuck me.”

You’re no different. Watching Natty work the candy cane into Julie’s ass, hearing Julie’s breathless moans, and seeing Belle’s flushed, needy face beneath you—it’s all too much. You position yourself again, gripping Belle’s hips as you push the head of your cock into her wet, tight pussy.

Belle gasps, her nails digging into your arms as you slide deeper, her walls clenching around you. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, her head falling back. “Oh—god—you’re so big.”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you bottom out, buried to the hilt.

Natty glances up from Julie, a wicked grin on her face. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”

Julie moans louder as Natty twists the candy cane slightly, her hips bucking. “Shut up, Natty,” she gasps. “Keep going.”

You focus on Belle, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, her tight heat wrapping around you perfectly. Her pussy is tight and wet, gripping your cock with every thrust as you pick up speed, your hips slamming into her with increasing intensity. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, her heels digging into your back as if she’s trying to keep you buried as deep as possible.

“Deeper,” she gasps, her voice trembling, raw with need. “Please, fuck me deeper.”

You oblige, driving into her harder, your cock stretching her, filling her completely. Her small body trembles beneath you, her nails clawing at your back as her head tilts back, exposing her neck. You lean forward, your lips brushing against her slick, salty skin, your teeth grazing lightly as you kiss her, your breaths hot and uneven.

“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moans, her hands clutching at you, holding you close as your bodies press together, sweat and heat mingling as you fuck her. “I can’t… Oh, god… You’re so deep,” she cries, her voice high and desperate.

By your side, Julie’s moans mix with Belle’s as Natty continues to work the candy cane into her ass. Julie’s legs are spread wide, her fingers rubbing her clit in frantic circles as she rocks her hips against the sensation, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

“Fuck, this is so dirty,” Julie groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips roll against Natty’s hand. “I’ve never… Fuck… No one’s ever done this to me before.”

Natty smirks, twisting the candy cane slightly, earning a loud, shaky moan from Julie. “No one’s ever fucked you like this because no one’s as filthy as us,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement.

Julie lets out a breathless laugh, her fingers moving faster on her clit. “Fuck, you’re right… It’s so fucking good.”

Belle’s voice pulls your attention back to her, her legs tightening around you as you thrust into her, your cock pounding her sweet, slick pussy. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice trembling. “Please don’t stop.”

You press your forehead against hers, your bodies glued together as you move, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Her small frame seems to mold against you, her soft tummy pressing into your abs, her breasts brushing against your chest with every movement.

“I won’t stop,” you promise, your voice rough, almost a growl. “You feel too fucking good.”

Belle’s moans are raw, unfiltered, her arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders as she buries her face in your neck. “Oh, god,” she cries. “I can feel you everywhere. You’re so fucking deep.”

Julie watches you both, her lips parted, her hand pausing briefly as she takes in the scene. “Fuck,” she mutters, her voice husky. “Look at you two. That’s so fucking hot.”

Natty chuckles, leaning closer to Julie, her hand still working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “You think that’s hot? Look at her face. She’s fucking gone.”

Julie laughs breathlessly, her fingers resuming their rhythm on her clit. “Belle, you look like he’s fucking you into another dimension.”

Belle doesn’t respond with words, only a loud, trembling moan as she clutches you tighter, her pussy clenching around your cock like it never wants to let you go.

The intensity builds with every thrust, every moan, every word. You’re driving into Belle with a passion that feels primal, raw, unstoppable, and she takes it all, her body arching, trembling, meeting your movements with frantic need.

“You’re perfect,” you murmur against her skin, your lips finding her neck again. “So fucking perfect.”

Belle’s only response is a choked, desperate cry, her nails digging into your back as she rides the overwhelming sensations.

Julie moans louder behind you, her voice thick with pleasure. “Keep going, big guy,” she urges, her breath hitching. “Fucking destroy her. She’s loving it.”

Natty laughs, her fingers teasing Julie’s clit now as she continues working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “We’re all loving it,” she says, her voice low and sultry.

The heat in the room is almost suffocating, bodies glistening with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and arousal. Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling against you as her nails rake your back, her pussy tightening around your cock with every thrust. You know you’re close, dangerously close, but you’re not done with her yet.

With a groan, you slide your hands under Belle’s ass and lift her, your cock slipping free for a moment as you shift positions. “Come here,” you murmur, your voice rough and commanding.

Her wide eyes meet yours, her cheeks flushed, and she lets out a shaky gasp as you pull her up into a kneeling position, your bodies pressed together as you sit back on your heels. She straddles you instinctively, her legs wrapping around your waist as you guide her down onto your cock again, the head slipping inside her slick, tight pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” Belle cries, her arms wrapping around your neck as she sinks down completely, your cock filling her to the hilt.

You groan, your hands gripping her hips as you press your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling. The intimacy of the position is electric—her small, soft body pressed against yours, her flushed skin against your chest, her pussy gripping you like it was made for you.

“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

Her voice trembles, her fingers digging into your shoulders. “You’re so deep,” she moans, her hips rocking against you. “I can feel you in my stomach.”

Natty shifts, the air thick with the sound of her own ragged breathing as she pulls the candy cane free from Julie’s slick, stretched ass. Without pause, she rolls to her side, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire as she closes the distance between them. Her thigh slides over Julie’s, skin sticky with the mingling heat of their bodies. Her hips press forward until her wet, swollen pussy meets Julie's in a sticky, urgent clash. The friction sparks a shudder through both of them as she adjusts, their thighs tangling, bodies grinding.

"Alright, give me that sweet pussy, baby.” The sight alone makes your cock twitch inside Belle, and you can’t help but groan.

“Fuck,” Julie mutters, her voice thick with arousal as Natty’s movements create delicious friction. “You really are a dirty whore, Natty.”

Natty grins, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds against her, their slick folds sliding together with obscene wet sounds. “Oh, are you surprised, baby?” she purrs, her voice low and teasing.

Belle gasps, her hips moving faster as she rides you, her small body trembling in your arms. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice desperate. “Please, don’t stop.”

You grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm with raw, passionate intensity. “I’m not stopping,” you growl, your lips finding her neck. “I won't stop until I cum inside that tight little pussy.”

Julie lets out a sharp cry as Natty’s movements grow rougher, her hips bucking against her. “Fuck, Natty,” she moans, her fingers sliding down to rub her clit. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

Natty laughs breathlessly, her body grinding harder against Julie’s. “You're not bad yourself.”

Julie’s only response is a loud, trembling moan, her back arching as the pleasure overwhelms her.

You glance between them, the sight of their scissoring bodies pushing you to the brink. Natty’s thick thighs flex with every movement, her hips grinding in perfect rhythm against Julie’s, while Julie’s fingers move frantically between them, her cries of pleasure filling the room.

Belle’s moans pull your attention back to her, and you grip her tighter, your cock plunging into her with deep, deliberate thrusts. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough with need. “All of you. You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours,” Belle gasps, her arms tightening around your neck. “Fuck, I’m yours. Just don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Natty groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her body moves against Julie’s, her voice dripping with lust. “This is fucking perfect,” she moans. “Keep going. All of us, together.”

The room is a mess of sounds—moans, gasps, the wet slap of skin against skin—and the heat builds higher, the tension coiling tighter with every second, the pleasure driving you all further, the desire to push each other over the edge growing stronger with every movement.

Belle’s trembling body rocks against yours, her pussy squeezing your cock with desperate, wet heat. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your cock throbbing inside her as her soft moans and whispered pleas echo in your ears. The heat between all of you is unbearable, the air heavy with sweat, arousal, and the raw, primal need that none of you can contain any longer.

You grip Belle’s hips tightly, thrusting up into her as she rides you, her small frame pressing against your chest, her legs wrapped around your waist. “Fuck, Belle,” you groan, your voice ragged. “I’m so close.”

Natty’s voice cuts through the haze, her tone teasing and full of lust. “Oh, yes,” she purrs, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds harder against her. “That’s what I like to hear. Come on, big guy, she’s the last one. Fill her up. Make her yours forever.”

Belle gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders as she grinds herself harder against you. Her lips are inches from yours, her breath mingling with yours as she stares into your eyes, her gaze filled with desperation and raw need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Please, make me yours. Breed me. I want to carry your baby.”

Her words send a shiver through your entire body, awakening something deep and primal inside you. Your hips buck up harder, your cock plunging deeper into her, and Belle cries out, her arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she clings to you.

Natty’s grin widens, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “Oh, she’s begging for it now. Look at her, desperate for you to knock her up.”

Julie moans louder, her fingers moving frantically against her clit as her hips buck against Natty’s. “Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling back. “He’s going to make her pregnant, and I can’t… Oh—god—I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

The symphony of moans, cries, and wet sounds grows louder, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo. Julie and Natty’s bodies grind together, slick and desperate, their movements wild and erratic as they chase their pleasure.

Belle’s eyes lock onto yours, her lips trembling as she whispers again. “Please… Please cum in me. Make me pregnant. Make me yours forever.”

Her words are your undoing.

With a guttural groan, you bury yourself as deep as you can inside her, your cock pulsing as your release hits. Hot, thick streams of cum spill into her, and Belle screams, her body shaking against yours as she feels you fill her.

“Fuck!” you growl, your arms wrapping around her tightly, your bodies glued together as you pump her full, your hips jerking with each spurt.

The sensation drives Julie over the edge, her back arching as she screams, her fingers pressing hard against her clit. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” she cries, her body jerking violently as her release hits, squirting all over the bed, her juices splashing against Natty’s thighs.

Natty gasps, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as the wetness spreads between them. “Goddamn,” she mutters, her voice thick with lust. “You’re a fucking mess, Julie.”

Belle clings to you, her breathing ragged, her body trembling as she feels the heat of your cum deep inside her. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathless. “Thank you, thank you…”

You hold her tightly, your chest heaving, your cock still twitching inside her as you press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her skin. “All of you. Forever.”

Julie collapses against the bed, her chest heaving as she laughs breathlessly. “Forever, huh? You’d better be ready to keep that promise.”

Natty chuckles, leaning over to kiss Belle’s cheek. “He’ll keep it. He’s got no choice now.”

The room falls into a warm, heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the faint hum of satisfaction that lingers in the air.

You look down at Belle, her eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and adoration. You can't resist the urge to seal this moment with a hot, passionate kiss. You lean in, your lips meeting hers in a fierce, claiming embrace. Your tongue delves into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, feeling her soft moans vibrate against your lips. Her body melts into yours, her arms wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back with equal fervor.

As you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against Belle's, your eyes locked onto hers, reaffirming your claim. "Forever," you whisper, and she nods, a small, content smile playing on her lips.

—

You wake up, but your consciousness seems to have stayed behind, trapped in some deep corner of your brain. Every muscle in your body aches, and your cock feels like it’s been through a marathon—probably because it has. The memories of last night flood back in vivid, explicit detail, and you groan, rolling over in bed.

But… the bed feels empty.

Your eyes snap open, and you’re greeted by nothing but rumpled sheets and an eerie quiet. No Natty. No Julie. No Belle.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “It was a fucking dream, wasn’t it?”

It’s not impossible.

Hell, it wouldn’t even be surprising. You’ve been alone for so long it’s no wonder your brain decided to gift you some kind of depraved Christmas fever dream. But damn, it felt real. The ache in your hips, the dull burn in your back—your body isn’t lying about how thoroughly you were wrecked.

You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed. “Maybe I’ve finally lost it,” you mutter to yourself. “Gone full-on crazy lonely dude. Great.”

Still, the smell of something cooking wafts up from downstairs, and your stomach growls. Dream or not, food sounds like the next logical step. You throw on some sweatpants and shuffle toward the stairs, your feet heavy on the creaking wood.

When you reach the bottom and turn into the kitchen, the sight that greets you makes you stop dead in your tracks.

They’re there.

Julie is in the living room, rearranging the pictures on your walls like she owns the place. Her sleek black hair is tied back, and she’s wearing one of your button-up shirts—too big for her but just short enough to make you gulp.

Natty's in the kitchen, humming to herself as she flips pancakes on the stove, her curves accentuated by the apron that barely covers her, tied loosely around her waist. It's the only thing she's wearing, as a matter of fact.

And Belle? She’s exactly where you’d expect her to be: sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by crumbs, shoving another bite of toast into her mouth. She is wearing one of your shirts. It's massive on her, but she looks so cute and cozy. Her blonde hair is a fluffy cloud of curls, falling haphazardly around her face. It's the most adorable thing ever.

They all turn to you at once, as if on cue.

“Morning, big guy,” Julie says casually, holding up a framed picture of you and your old dog. “You know this was crooked, right?”

“Good morning!” Natty chimes, flashing you a bright smile before flipping another pancake. “I hope you like breakfast. We kind of raided your kitchen.”

Belle waves with her toast, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Mmrphning,” she mumbles, crumbs tumbling onto the table.

You just stand there, staring at them, your brain short-circuiting. “You’re… real,” you say finally.

Julie smirks, setting the frame back on the wall. “Of course we’re real. What, you think you hallucinated all that?”

“I wouldn’t blame him,” Natty quips, her tone playful. “Last night was pretty intense. Honestly, I’m impressed he’s still standing.”

Belle swallows her mouthful of toast and grins. “You do look like you got hit by a reindeer or two.”

You blink, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I… I thought I dreamed it. I woke up, and you weren’t—”

“—in your bed?” Julie finishes, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah, we figured you’d want to sleep in. You earned it.”

Natty plates a stack of pancakes and sets them on the table, her grin widening. “Plus, you looked so cute passed out like that. We didn’t want to wake you.”

Belle grabs a pancake with her bare hands, ignoring the fork sitting right in front of her. “So, are you gonna join us, or are you just gonna stand there gawking?”

You snap out of your daze, shuffling to the table and collapsing into a chair. “This is insane,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “You’re real. You’re actually real.”

“Yeah, we established that,” Julie says, sitting down across from you with a cup of coffee. “Now eat. Natty went all domestic goddess for you.”

Natty grins, sliding into the seat next to you and piling your plate high with pancakes. “Don’t get used to it,” she teases. “Breakfast is the only thing I know how to make.”

Belle smirks, her mouth full again. “She’s not kidding. I saw her almost burn water once.”

Natty glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I Eat Cereal with a Fork.’”

You chuckle despite yourself, cutting into your pancakes. “So, this is my life now, huh? Three elves living in my house, eating my food, rearranging my furniture.”

Julie shrugs, sipping her coffee. “Pretty much. We’re pregnant with your babies, remember? You’re stuck with us now.”

Natty leans in, resting her chin on her hand. “Admit it. You love it.”

You glance around the table at the three of them—the sly smirk on Julie’s lips, the playful sparkle in Natty’s eyes, Belle’s adorable, crumb-covered grin—and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I really do.”

The pancakes are incredible, fluffy and sweet, though the company is sweeter. You shovel another bite into your mouth, glancing between the three of them as they eat—or, in Belle’s case, inhale—at the table. It feels surreal, the warmth of their presence filling the space that, until now, had always felt too empty.

But then Julie sets her coffee down with a soft clink and fixes you with a look that’s somewhere between regretful and serious. “Look, we need to talk,” she says. "There's something you need to know.”

Your stomach flips. “That sounds ominous.”

Natty smirks, nudging your thigh under the table. “Relax. We’re not breaking up with you or anything.”

Belle, mid-bite, chimes in with her mouth full. “We’re pregnant, remember? Well, probably pregnant. Anyway, you're our man now.”

You laugh nervously, but Julie doesn’t budge, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about what happens next. The logistics.”

“Logistics?” you echo, frowning. “What logistics? I thought we just… lived happily ever after or something.”

Julie snorts, crossing her arms. “You think the magic world works like a rom-com? Cute. No, there’s rules. Bureaucracies. Red tape thicker than Santa’s thighs after cookie season.”

Belle raises a hand, still chewing. “Which is always, by the way.”

“Okay, back up,” you say, setting your fork down. “What rules? What are we talking about here?”

Natty sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s complicated. We’re technically under North Pole jurisdiction, which means we can’t just pack up and move here full-time. There’s laws against it. Something about maintaining magical secrecy or whatever.”

“Plus,” Julie adds, “having a half-human, half-elf baby is already bending the rules. Some of the North Pole council isn’t exactly thrilled about it.”

You blink. “Wait, what? The council knows?”

Belle grins, finally swallowing her mouthful. “Of course they do. They know everything. They’ve got this creepy snow globe that shows them all the important stuff. Like Santa’s version of the NSA. We're in trouble now, but it's for a good reason.”

“That’s terrifying,” you mutter.

“It’s efficient,” Julie counters.

“But what does that mean for us?” you ask, glancing between them. “Are you saying you’re just going to leave?”

Julie hesitates, glancing at Natty, who takes over. “We’re not leaving you. But we can’t stay full-time, either. For now, we’ll have to visit. Weekends, holidays, that kind of thing.”

“That’s… not what I was expecting.”

“Hey,” Natty says softly, reaching for your hand. “It’s not forever. Once the babies are born, we’ll have more leverage. Interracial babies in the magical world are rare, and they’re considered kind of… important.”

“Important how?”

Belle pipes up. “Well, they’re supposed to be, like, bridges between worlds or whatever. Diplomatic symbols of unity. It’s a whole thing.”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Which is ironic, considering how much the council hates dealing with them.”

Natty nods. “Yeah, but it works in our favor. They can’t exactly ignore us when the kids come along. We’ll push for a reassignment so we can all live together.”

“Reassignment?” you ask, feeling like you’re still two steps behind.

Julie leans forward, her tone all business. “Basically, we’d petition for you to come live at the North Pole. It’s rare, but it happens. Usually for special cases, like this one.”

“You’d really want me to come with you?” you ask, your voice soft.

Natty grins. “Duh. You think we’d go through all this just to ditch you?”

Belle nods vigorously. “We’re a package deal now. Besides, you’d love it at the North Pole. Endless hot cocoa, magical reindeer, zero commute time—it’s awesome.”

Julie smirks. “And cold as hell. Better invest in thermal underwear.”

You laugh despite yourself, the weight in your chest lifting slightly. “So, what happens until then?”

Natty squeezes your hand. “We’ll make it work. We’re not going anywhere, not really. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even get you on the Nice List permanently.”

Belle snickers. “That’s a stretch.”

Julie shoots her a look before turning back to you. “We’re serious, though. You said you wanted a family, handsome, well now you've got yourself a big one. You’re ours now, and we don’t take that lightly.”

The warmth in her voice is undeniable, and you find yourself smiling. “You’re mine too, you know.”

Natty grins, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Damn right we are.”

Belle, already reaching for another pancake, grins around her fork. “Better get used to it, lover boy. Three elf girls are no joke.”

—

The pancakes are history, coffee mugs bone dry, and sunlight floods the kitchen, casting everything in this weirdly golden, almost-too-perfect glow. Julie, Natty, and Belle are still parked around the table, eyes pinned on you like you’re the main event.

Julie’s the first to break the silence, her voice calm but carrying that no-bullshit weight. “Alright,” she says. “There’s one more thing we gotta hash out.”

“More bureaucratic bullshit?” you ask, half-joking, half-dreading.

Natty leans into her palm, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “Nah, not this time. This one’s about you. What you want.”

Belle tilts her head, her blonde hair catching the light. “Yeah, like… this whole setup? It’s not exactly your typical ‘happily ever after.’ Magic babies, council breathing down our necks, all of us living together—it’s a lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

Julie leans forward, her eyes dead serious but with a softness underneath that makes you pay attention. “We need to know if you’re really in this. Like, all in. This isn’t some fling or a one-night thing that spiraled out of control. This is real. It’s us. It’s a family. Forever. And if you’re gonna bolt or start second-guessing once we start building this life, we need to know now. Because if you’re not solid… it’ll wreck us.”

The word “wreck” just sits there, heavy as hell, daring anyone to argue with it.

You take a moment, looking at each of them. Julie’s got that sharp, take-no-prisoners look softened by something way more raw. Natty’s smirking, sure, but there’s a flicker of doubt behind it. And Belle, sweet Belle, is practically radiating hope, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of the shirt.

“I’m in,” you say, no hesitation. “For all of it. The magic, the council, the chaos. But mostly, I’m in for you. For us. For this family we’re building. Whatever it takes.”

Belle’s lips part in surprise, and her eyes well up slightly. “You mean that?” she whispers.

You nod, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Of course I mean it. I’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know what I don’t want. And what I want is right here.”

Natty’s grin returns, bright and full of mischief. “You realize we’re not exactly the poster-perfect family, right? You’ve got a dirty-mouthed toy-maker, a bossy logistics queen, and a cookie-devouring disaster. Not to mention the kids we’re about to have? That’s a circus waiting to happen.”

You chuckle, glancing at Belle, who’s already looking at the fruit bowl in the corner of the kitchen. “It’s not normal, no. But normal’s overrated anyway.”

Julie’s lips twitch into a faint smile, and she tilts her head. “You’d really give up your life here for us? Your home, your routines, everything you know?”

You shrug, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Home isn’t a place. It’s people. And I don’t need routines—I need you. All of you. Even Belle eating me out of house and home.”

Belle laughs, her cheeks pink. “You’d miss me if I didn’t.”

Natty leans closer, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And the council? The North Pole? That’s a whole different world, you know. It’s not just hot chocolate and snowball fights. You sure you’re ready for that?”

You meet her gaze, unwavering. “I’m ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.”

Julie lets out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all morning. “Well, shit,” she mutters, a smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

Natty snickers. “Guess we’re stuck with him now, huh?”

Belle squeezes your hand, her grin wide and genuine. “Good. I like being stuck with him.”

Julie rolls her eyes but smiles, reaching out to rest her hand over yours. “Then it’s settled. You’re ours, big guy. Welcome to the weirdest family you’ll ever know.”

You laugh, your chest warm, full, complete. “It’s a family,” you say softly. “And that’s all that matters.”

Natty leans back in her chair, her grin wide. “Weird or not, it’s ours. And I have a feeling we'll be very happy.”

Belle beams, looking at everyone at the table with a certain enthusiasm. “Same.”

Julie claps her hands. “Okay, enough of the sappy shit. Let’s toast to this insanity.” She grabs the pitcher of orange juice and starts pouring it into the mugs around the table.

Julie lifts her mug, her voice low but steady. “To family. The unconventional kind.”

Natty raises her cup, her grin wicked. “To the craziest family of the North Pole.”

Belle lifts her juice, her eyes sparkling with the sunlight and something more. “To us.”

Julie locks eyes with you, her voice calm but full of unshakable resolve. “To family. The kind that doesn’t play by the rules.”

You raise your cup with a laugh. “To family.”

And for the first time, it feels like the holidays aren’t just another lonely season—they’re the start of something real. Something yours. Something forever.

[mwphisto]

LaDs pairings and my personal headcanons on their dynamics

Warning, this post contains: threesomes, polyamorous relationships, male x male x female dynamics, mentions of dom/sub play and dynamics.

A/N: just a silly little post about the various love and deepspace pairings and what I headcanon their throuple / threesome dynamic to be like :3 also this looks way better on mobile than desktop so forgive me for my aesthetic needs lmfaoooo

Xavier x Rafayel x Reader (StarFish)

Cutest name among the pairings first of all

Possibly controversial but I think Rafayel mainly tops in this dynamic… here me out

Xavier is a freak in the sheets but compared to Rafayel? He’s very mellow. He’s so focused on you and your needs that he can drown out some of Rafayel’s antics when getting down to it.

It’s not until Xavier snaps that Rafayel is the center of attention. You and Xavier team up to put the brat of your trio in his rightful place.

Not saying Rafayel loves it… but he loves it.

Xavier x Zayne x Reader (StarSnow)

The silent but deadly duo (lmfao)

I think these two are fighting for dominance while also being civil about it? Taking turns if you will.

In this trio, you are definitely the sub with your two doms. Very little room for switching imo

It’s very rare that you get a chance to top either of them, the two of them always being two steps ahead and getting you railed until you can’t see straight.

Xavier x Sylus x Reader (StarCrow)

Prepare to never feel your legs again.

You are once again the sub in this pairing, but with some free reigns thanks to Sylus

You and Sylus like to team up on Xavier, making the prince of Philos see the stars in which he came from by the time the two of you are done with him

Xavier and Sylus have…wrestled… much to your amusement but Sylus typically always comes out on top. Mostly thanks to his evol and size. Not that Xavier is complaining… he secretly enjoys it.

Xavier x Caleb x Reader (StarApple)

They bicker all the time, they’re always fighting for your attention.

They’re both headstrong, needing to be in control and both equally as obsessed with your pleasure.

Someway, somehow, Caleb manages to get Xavier to give up — his evol held he man down — and you had a time riding him until he was a sobbing mess

Caleb would let the roles reverse willingly after seeing how much fun Xavier got to have being under you.

Rafayel x Zayne x Reader (SnowFish)

We’re looking at two bratty subs with their tamer

You and Rafayel are menaces when together, in and out of the bedroom. Poor Zayne (he fucking loves it)

A common position is you riding Rafayel within an inch of his life while Zayne holds you by your hair and helps himself to your… back door.

Roles have also been reversed, with Rafayel getting fucked senseless while trying not to slobber all over your pussy — and failing miserably in the process.

Rafayel x Sylus x Reader (CrowFish)

Sylus gets off watching you and Rafayel play.

He often partakes in the activities, don’t get me wrong, but he has a thing for watching you and Rafayel get each other off. The struggle of two switches trying not to fall into submissive tendencies… and failing. Cute.

Though, it’s not always the case, when Sylus is involved, Rafayel gets feral. You’re not leaving that bed with working legs… or any feeling in your lower half for that matter. It’s your turn to get fucked within an inch of your life and be pampered on for the coming days.

More than one bed has been replaced…

Rafayel x Caleb x Reader (AppleFish)

Kings of yearning…and stalking… and trying to act like they didn’t plot everything ever.

They initially hate each other, then they realize how likeminded they are and it’s game over for you.

They are torturing you low-key, expect to be tied up, edged until you're sobbing, and then overstimulated until you're begging them to stop. And, spoiler, they won't stop.

Evil ass dynamic for real, they feed off of each other's dramatics

Zayne x Sylus x Reader (SnowCrow)

Oh bitch. Maybe I'm biased (I am) but this combo is elite.

You've got three brat tamers who can all be brats. A group of switches if you will. Couple broken beds with Sylus and Raf? You're looking at multiple broken beds, couches, tables, chairs, fucking destroyed bathrooms, ruined carpets, you get the idea.

You are ruined every time, even if you're on top. You've gotta call out of work the next day, Zayne goes to work limping, Sylus is overly smug about the whole thing

You can plot against each other and still end up fucked stupid

Zayne x Caleb x Reader (SnowApple)

Zayne is putting y'all in your rightful places. Caleb thinks he has a shot at dominating Zayne and is sorely mistaken by the end of it. You really did try to warn him too, now he can't even walk.

Linkon's best surgeon has a time putting Linkon's best hunter and the Farspace Fleet's colonel in their places. Fucking them both to damn tears is is specialty.

We're looking at one dominant with two switches who lean towards bratty subs whether they want to or not

Punishments go crazy with this throuple

Sylus x Caleb x Reader (CrowApple)

You've never known Caleb to be shy until Sylus gets involved. Caleb couldn't stand him, Sylus found it utterly amusing. You? You just enjoyed the show.

Sylus forced Caleb to watch as he fucked you stupid, tears streaming down your face while he's balls deep and kissing you senseless. In the end, Caleb came untouched and realized that being a brat against Sylus would result in real punishment.

Even with his gravity evol, Caleb can't win against Bossman. And either way, you get to have the time of your life with both of your lovers trying - and failing - to work it out.

Either way, you'll be getting wrecked daily... multiple times.

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[sightseertrespasser]

Digging Up Secrets

Reverse Mecha AU spawned by @keferon

Nothing like being trapped underground with just your crush and concussion for company.

———————————————————————

Time stopped.

Or.

Prowl stopped.

Everything was loud moving crashing dangerous move move move.

The radius of destruction. Inside-outside.

He pushed Jazz Outside. Radius.

Fell. He fell. The floor, hollow topped cylinders of raw materials, Inside Radius.

Prowl was Inside the.. Radius of. The radi..

He can’t See. He can see. But he cannot See. He can’t see behind himself anymore. He can’t see outside himself anymore.

Immobilized. Blinded. Living.

Failing. His body was failing. Crushed beneath tons and tons and tons and-

A sound, different from ringing ears or groaning metal. Choppy. Static.

… voice?

“Prowl?”

A voice. He knows that one. It’s new but he knows it. He does, it’s.. His name is..

All Prowl can hear is static.

“Prowler? C’mon babe talk to me.”

Jazz.

“Ja- agh.” Prowls voice was sticky and his mouth tasted like blood. He swallowed dry air and tried again.

“Ja-azz?”

His voice cracked halfway through. Dully, Prowl hoped Jazz wouldn’t be upset.

“Prowl! Oh man I am so glad to hear your voice!” The reception was poor, or maybe Prowls hearing had finally gone with his eyesight. Either way, the pilot pressed his bleeding ear to the warm and rumbly speaker.

“You made it?” Prowl strung the words together like taffy.

“Yeah, I made it. Thanks for the assist by the way. Can I get a location?”

Task. Prowl had a task to do. Leaning backwards into his own mind, Prowl was met with collapsed corridors and broken edges. He navigated, carefully until he found the correct data packet that thankfully survived the crash.

He forwarded it to Jazz.

Just as he was about to slip under again, Jazz crackled through the comms once more, “Uh Prowler? This is for the pickup location.”

“Yes?”

“I need your location.”

“Um.” Prowl tried to think. “Down?”

Why did he need his location? His mecha was an unfathomable wreck, he couldn’t access the programs to run the numbers, but this kind of damage outpaced the repair costs.

His body was a dead weight.

“You okay man? You’re not talking like yourself.”

Prowl tried to run a diagnostic on his comms, why wouldn’t he sound like himself?

Talking.

Jazz said Talking like himself. His brain caught on there was an implication in that wording and Prowl trudged after it like a dollar in the wind.

“What do I talk like?” He needed more information.

A jump in static that Prowls brain interprets as laughter precedes Jazz’s response.

“You talk very precisely. Like. . you talk like if you don’t get everything out exactly right and in the clearest way possible then people won’t listen to you. Or they won’t understand you.”

“They don’t.”

“You also don’t usually use contractions this much.”

“They do not.” Prowl fixed. There. He was fine.

He could smell his own breath. It smelled bitter, like cleaning chemicals and hospitals.

“Can you keep talking? I think I can get a read on where you are by the strength of the signal.”

That was incredibly sensible.

“You’re so smart. Why are you so.. You- you’re the smarter-est. Smart-trest.”

There was a long pause where Jazz processed and Prowl did the human equivalent of a computer dial up tone inside his skull.

“Ooookay, hey Prowler? What do I do if I find a human with brain damage?”

The tactician pondered this riddle.

Mentally, Prowl pulled up a file of information and read it aloud, “Don’t.. let them do stupid shit..”

“Gotcha.”

The letters in his brain didn’t make sense, he tried to remember instead.

“You need to, you keep them awake because, because it’s bad if they go to sleep.”

“What happens if they go to sleep?”

“They don’ wake up anymore.”

“Hey Prowler?”

“Yeag?”

“Yeah, hey I need you to keep talking to me okay? Can you do that?”

“For the signal search?”

“Yeah, for the signal boo.”

Okay. He had a task again. Talk.

Talking is just making words with sounds and doing them in an order that you want them to do and it will make them sound like they’re not going through with what you don’t want them to do, which is the thing that is not the good thing.

Yes.

Good.

What?

“Oh ho WOW you are super out of it.”

His head lolled back towards the speaker, “What?”

Jazz’s voice was coming through much clearer than before, “I was asking about your favorite foods, then you said you didn’t remember and I was all like “Is memory loss a sign of brain damage in humans?” And then you said you didn’t remember because it’s been so long since you’ve enjoyed eating and I was like “Okay that’s actually somehow worse.” And then you asked me “what’s worse” and this is now the third time I’ve had to repeat this conversation.”

Prowl considered this information, sifting through his memories.

“It’s doughnuts.” He mumbled.

“What’s doughnuts?” Jazz grunted between his words like he’d been exerting himself.

“M’favorite food. It’s um, a circle? With a hole, in the middle. .” He tapped a finger subconsciously. “A torus.”

“Can humans taste shapes? What does a torus taste like?” A little bit of wonder was in Jazz’s voice.

“Nooo no no.” Despite himself, somehow Prowl was giggling. “They don’t taste like much. Lot’s of toppings and sweet stuff, but we used to get plain and I’d dip mine in coffee.”

“So a coffee doughnut then?”

He sounded absolutely whiny but didn’t care, “Nooo coffee doughnuts are different. Plain Doughnut dipped in, um, in plain coffee is.. what’sit.”

Prowl tried to put it into words. Sunlight through a window. Sitting on a desk and a peeling office chair. Splitting the torus because there weren’t enough left for two this time. Bitter and sweet, because Prowl got a coffee and hot chocolate for their usual order. Talking, eating, listening.

“Not plain.”

“Duly noted.” There was a hint of mischief in Jazz’s voice that had Prowl zeroing in on it.

“You- you’re- I KNOW what you’re doing you- you-“ Prowl pulled on all his linguistic prowess. “Fucker. You’re prying- plying? Probing me for all my secrets!”

Prowl thumped his gloved hand against a random dead screen inside his mecha.

“Ooo you got me there. Alien invader, come to probe ya. So what do you find attractive in a mech? Er, man.”

“Visors r hot.”

Either the speakers were shorting out or Jazz was. The static resolved back into coherent speech, “Oh I was so not expecting you to actually answer that. Your filter is a little broken right now huh?”

Refusing to answer, Prowl grumbled disgruntedly.

“Wait, are you into Tarantulas? Is that why you let him do that shit to you?”

“Wha-? No I’m not- what? Jazz, Tarantulas is just a coworker. He’s necessary. He’s not- I need him I don’t want him Jazz.”

“Prowl I think he’s killing you. What does he do that’s so “necessary?”

Prowl tried to find the words and began a tumbling run of it.

“He listens to me. And it does, feel good sometimes. The attention. And the compliments. But I don’t need that, I don’t need to be liked by anyone. I need to be better and he listens to me and then makes me better. You don’t- you wouldn’t understand. I have to be faster. I needed to be faster and I wasn’t and Tarantulas is the only one who will help me.”

“Respectfully, but someone who lets you destroy yourself isn’t helping as much as you think they are.” The bitterness in his tone made Prowl go quiet.

“Prowl, I’ve seen you do some absolutely crazy shit to save an absurd number of people. You literally just saved my life and now you’re talking like that isn’t enough?”

“You don’t know. Tarantulas knows.”

“Then what the fuck does Tarantulas know about you that I don’t?” Jazz shouted through the speaker.

“If I was faster it would’ve been me!” Screaming into the confines of his mechas cabin, Prowl choked on the stale air.

His head spun. There was an intense pressure against his chest and something wet dripped tracks down his nose, pooling onto his visor.

“He got to the gate first. He- we had to close it from both sides. I wasn’t fast enough and he crossed over first and- and I killed my-“ His voice cracked in two.

Prowl dry heaved. He screamed. Had he ever stopped? He was blind and broken and half the man he needed to be. Stretching out what little remained of his soul until it could cast the shadow of a complete person.

Shooting pains dulled into cracked bones of exhaustion. Where the marrow seeps away to leave nothing behind but a sad sack in the limp shape of a human being.

Why was he so dizzy? Why did everything hurt? Prowl tried to scan around himself but came back with nothing. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t remember why he was crying but the pain was so familiar that he did.

A sound, different from ringing ears or groaning metal. Fast. Gentle.

A voice. A voice he knew.

Prowl hiccuped and tried to lean into the sound.

“Hey hey hey, Prowl you’re okay. You’re okay we don’t have to talk about any of that anymore.”

Jazz. The voice was Jazz, he knew Jazz.

“Can you just start counting or something? Recite the alphabet?”

Prowl felt his eyes start to slip closed. Listening didn’t hurt. He wanted to not hurt.

“I’m almost there baby, you’ve just gotta stay awake a little longer. Just a little longer okay?”

Maybe it was a trade? The foggier Prowl got, the clearer Jazz became. Jazz was supposed to get closer. That was good.

“Prowler? Please say something.”

The sounds washed over him. It continued for a while, lulling him down further.

He couldn’t remember why he’d been hurting.

He couldn’t remember much of anything.

Silence.

Blissful silence.

“HONK”

Prowl woke with a shout.

“Fu- Wha- What?!”

Heart racing, Prowl tried to figure out where the hell he was and what the hell just startled the shit out of him. Coming up blank on both fronts.

“Prowl! Shit. Keep talking to me. I see plating, it’s looks like you’re face down. There’s some metal beams in the way. I can’t lift them. Tell me how to reach you.”

Prowl was still reeling from the honk. He felt out the remains of his mecha.

“There’s a breach. Right side of m’chassis.”

“Okay. Okay. Ah shitting fuck.”

Prowl was slipping again, but he couldn’t. Why couldn’t he..?

“I’m fine. Jazz. You can jus’ tell them where I’m buried. They’ll get the mecha back later.”

“And you’ll live that long?”

“Umm..no?” Prowl didn’t understand the question.

He heard something that sounded like alien cussing.

And then a scraping against his side.

“Prowl?”

“Jazz?”

“Start disconnecting. I’m getting you out.”

Prowl barely initiated the disconnect sequence before an earth shattering screech of metal tearing away whited out his thoughts.

It felt like it went on forever. The residual power sparked around the open chest wound of his mecha. Prowl was blind. Again. So much of him was missing, missing, missing.

He didn’t realize his eyes were open until a bright blue blob bobbed into view.

“Heya Prowler.”

He’d know Jazz’s voice anywhere.

Prowl was pretty much useless. All he strength was going into staying awake. Because Jazz wanted him to stay awake.

That started out easy. Staying awake. With the pain of extraction and disentangling of limbs from harnesses.

It got much harder once Jazz had him. There was this, this sound. Like a hum. But slowly ebbing and flowing, like slow calm breathing.

Prowl pressed his ear to something warm and rumbly. Metal surrounded him. He wanted it to press harder until he could phase out of his broken body. But it just held him steady.

“Dij.” He tried. “Didou get smaller?”

The voice he knew laughed in.. fear? Relief? Prowl didn’t know. Wasn’t his strong suit.

He could feel the rocking of steps. The metal got a little warmer and time ran in little circles around his head.

And Prowl fell under.

Much, much later, Prowl woke up. Properly this time.

It was a familiar enough sight. Tile ceilings, beeping machines, the general scent of chemicals that denoted Tarantulas’ presence.

The scientist wasn’t immediately here, surprisingly. When Prowl turned his aching neck to find him, instead he saw a plain blue box next to his bed.

Curiosity peaked, Prowl dragged a protesting arm over to the side table, thumbing it open on the second attempt.

Inside, were two plain doughnuts and a closed cup of coffee.

Scrawled on the inside of the lid, “Could you describe them for me later?” - J

———————————————————————

Prowl spent a good 15 minutes trying to work out how the fuck Jazz’s giant metal ass hand delivered that box into a tiny ass room three stories below ground level.

Because there was no way in fuck Tarantulas was going to let Prowl eat that, and it took him another 15 minutes to remember Tiny Jazz. Then another 15 to determine if that was a hallucination or not.

This is future science land were scientists are just wizards with an aesthetic, so Tarantulas will get Prowl back to “normal” pretty quickly.

Additionally, we’re seeing only what Prowl remembers from his conversations with Jazz. Poor dude was digging for hours trying to keep Prowl awake and not set off anymore emotional land mines. With varying degrees of success.

This is probably (for my own sanity’s sake) the only reverse mecha au story I’m writing so if this inspires you go nuts and make it!

-SSTP

[slutoru1207]

Losing control

Invincible!MohawkMark x reader smut

MDNI 18+

Warning: 🔞 Explicit Content, Breeding Kink, Rough & Possessive Smut. This chapter contains graphic sexual content, intense dominance, overstimulation, and a heavy focus on breeding kink. Read at your own discretion.

The moment the bedroom door shut, you felt it—the shift.

Mark had been holding back. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his fists tightened at his sides, the way his golden eyes darkened with something dangerous, something primal.

He wasn’t just stressed.

He was starving.

“You have no idea,” he exhaled, shaking his head, his voice low, strained, barely controlled. “How long I’ve been waiting for this.”

And then—

You were against the bed.

Your back hit the mattress, Mark already between your legs, ripping your clothes off with no patience, no hesitation. His strength made it effortless, fabric tearing under his hands like it was nothing. His mouth was everywhere—biting, licking, sucking, claiming, leaving bruises you’d wear for days.

His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading you open, exposing you, and the low groan that rumbled from his chest at the sight of you?

Filthy.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip, his breathing heavy, uneven. “You’re already so wet,” he muttered, voice rough. His fingers teased through your slick folds, spreading the mess. “You been thinking about this? Thinking about me filling you up?”

Your breath hitched.

He smirked. “Yeah. I can tell.”

And then his mouth was on you.

Hot. Wet. Messy.

He devoured you—tongue deep, lips sealed around your clit, sucking, drinking you down like a man dying of thirst.His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned, keeping you spread, his fingers sinking deep, curling inside you just right.

It was too much.

Your body jerked, squirming, writhing, shaking, but there was nowhere to go.

Mark just groaned, his grip tightening, keeping you trapped, keeping you still, forcing you to take it. His tongue flicked over your clit faster, rougher, relentless, pushing you higher, higher—

Until you shattered.

Your orgasm hit so fast, so hard, your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. If anything—he got rougher. His fingers worked you through it, pushing deeper, curling, stroking, making you shake, making you sob.

“Mark—!”

But he didn’t let up.

Not even for a second.

His fingers thrust faster, his tongue dragging slow, pushing you right into another orgasm, forcing it out of you, making you gush all over his fingers, his tongue, his face.

You could barely breathe.

You begged.

And Mark just grinned.

“Not done,” he murmured, voice thick, hoarse, wrecked. His fingers left you, and before you could even process it—he was on top of you, his cock lined up, pressing against your soaked entrance.

And then—

He slammed inside.

Your back arched, your breath caught, your nails dug into his arms—

And Mark snapped.

His pace was brutal—deep, hard, unrelenting. Your legs wrapped around him, ankles locking at his back, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t gentle. He was fucking you like he was trying to break you, ruin you, claim you.

His grip was everywhere—fingers wrapped around your throat, holding you down, hand fisting in your hair, pulling, forcing you to look at him.

His golden eyes burned.

“You take me so well,” he groaned, his teeth sinking into your neck, leaving marks, bruises, a possessive, permanent claim. “Like you were made for me.”

Your moans were helpless, breathless, broken, your body already shaking from overstimulation.

And Mark just chuckled—low, dark, cocky.

“You can take more.”

And you did.

Positions?

He had you every way he wanted.

- Face down, ass up – He gripped your hips, pulled you back against him, thrusting so deep you saw stars.

- Legs on his shoulders – He folded you in half, his cock hitting that perfect spot, making you scream.

- Reverse cowgirl – He held your waist, forcing you down, grinding, groaning, watching you bounce.

- Juno style? He lifted you, hands under your knees, fucking up into you, deep, sharp, merciless.

And every time you came, he didn’t stop.

Because he wasn’t done.

His thrusts got sloppy, desperate, his breathing ragged, his grip bruising.

And then—

He growled.

His arms wrapped around you, his hips snapping, his cock pulsing, throbbing—

As he came inside.

Thick, hot, deep.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavy, pressing kisses into your skin, panting against your ear.

His fingers traced over your stomach, smirking.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, voice low, rough, wrecked.

He kissed you—slow, deep, filthy.

“You’re gonna look so good carrying my baby.”

And fuck—

Your body shuddered.

-

Your body was still trembling, pussy throbbing, stuffed full of his cum, when Mark rolled you onto your stomach.

Your breath barely caught before he was pressing down on your back, his bare chest flush against you, trapping you beneath him.

“You thought I was finished?” he murmured, voice dark, teasing, filthy. His breath was hot against your ear, his cock still hard, still thick, still pulsing against your drenched entrance.

His fingers dragged down your spine, slow, deliberate, tracing every curve, every dip, every inch of skin he had already claimed.

"You’re still twitching, baby," he chuckled, his cock teasing your entrance, dragging against your swollen, used clit.

"Sensitive?"

Your breath hitched.

He smirked. "Too bad."

And then—

He shoved back inside.

Your moan was wrecked, broken, and Mark groaned.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he hissed, filling you up all over again, stretching you out around his cock. “Guess I need to fix that.”

And he did.

His pace was deep, slow, controlled, dragging it out, making you feel every inch, every vein, every thick, throbbing pulse.

And then, just as you started adjusting—

He snapped.

His grip tightened, his hips slamming into you, fucking you into the mattress, into the sheets soaked with sweat and cum.

And you took it.

Your breath stuttered, your fingers fisted the sheets, your moans turned to screams—but Mark just grinned.

“Gonna cry for me, baby?” he taunted, slapping your ass, gripping it, spreading you open so he could watch himself disappear into you.

Your body shuddered.

"Mark—!"

His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to arch.

“Say my name again,” he growled, breathing heavy, wrecked, desperate.

Your walls clenched around him, your body already so close, so fucked out, so overwhelmed.

And Mark felt it.

His smirk was filthy, cocky, possessive.

“Yeah, that’s right," he groaned. "Go ahead, baby. Cum for me again.”

And fuck—

You did.

Hard.

Your vision blurred, your legs trembled, your body spasmed, writhing beneath him, clenching down on his cock like you never wanted to let go.

Mark groaned—deep, guttural, animalistic. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm, fucking you through your orgasm, chasing his own.

And then—

He shoved deep, holding you down, grinding against you, filling you to the brim.

His breath shook, his arms trembled, his cock twitched—

As he came inside.

Thick. Hot. So much.

His weight sank onto you, panting, pressing soft, sloppy kisses into your shoulder, into your neck.

His hands smoothed down your sides, warm, tender, possessive.

And then—he laughed.

"You’re not walking tomorrow."

And the worst part?

He was right.

[maruflix]

BOYS BEWARE !

the boys know that you are the town’s most notorious heartbreaker. it would be stupid for them to involve themselves with you. it’s not like they didn’t know that they’re sharing you with their own friends— but damn you look fine. / REQ.

feat. sakura, suo, kaji, umemiya, togame, endo, takiishi　　⎯⎯　wc. 4.1k

cw. female reader, REVERSE HAREM, reader is a heartbreaker, pre-established relationship, they fall in love first, they fall in love harder, reader is either toxic or playful depending on how you look at it, OKAY READER IS KINDA TOXIC, this is a brainrot and a passion project god bless whoever sent this request, no beta we die like my hopes and dreams

SAKURA HARUKA -> MET A BOY FROM OUTTA TOWN...

Sakura doesn’t know how to express his emotions, so he usually lets them rot and die inside him, preferring to ignore them until they disappear.

He never succeeds to do so whenever you come around. All it takes is one smile. One smile from you and he’s completely defenseless at your mercy.

“I-is this guy bothering you?” Sakura’s attempt to sound gruff seems to fool the dumbass who thinks he’s got a chance with you. He eyes down the weak looking eyesore who kept bothering you since five minutes ago. The pathetic creature couldn’t even look him in the eye.

You flash him a smile. That damn smile. He feels like he’s going to choke.

“He is!” you sigh, tugging the sleeve of his jacket, “Are you here on patrol?”

The weakling knows to make himself scarce, leaving Sakura standing alone with you. He hopes you can’t hear his heart thundering inside his ribcage.

“Yes. I came to give you this.” He clumsily hands you a small box of your favorite cake, almost dropping it in the process and quickly adding, “I-I accidentally bought extra!”

You’re now blinking your gorgeous eyes, surprised, but reach out to take it anyway. “Oh, Haruka-kun! You’re so thoughtful!”

The way his name rolls out your tongue makes him go insane.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” Giggling, you hug his arm, accidentally brushing your head against his shoulder..

Just when he’s about to ask you if you had any plans that weekend, he sees that your line of vision has shifted away from him. He follows it to see Suo standing a couple feet away, smiling.

Oh.

He looks down to see you already smiling up at him like nothing happened. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Haruka-kun! Maybe we can watch a movie together this weekend?”

His heart leaps; so you also want to spend more time with him! He’s just about to say that he’d really, really want that— but you’re already slipping away from his grasp into the direction of his best friend.

You turn your head once more to look at him, “Text me!” before skipping away.

It’s okay, Sakura convinces himself, I’ll definitely text you first.

The warmth of you still lingers on his arm.

SUO HAYATO -> I HELD THE KNIFE BUT YOU HAD THE GUN

Why does Suo still waste his time with you?

He wonders the same thing when he stares at you, eating in front of him.

You eat without a care in the world. Then again, you never seem to care about anything. He just wishes that you’d care about him more. What did you think he was going to feel when he sees you in the arms of Sakura freaking Haruka in the middle of the day? But then again, it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything, so it’s not like he had a say—

“Hayato-kun, aren’t you gonna eat?”

Suo blinks, looking down at his half-eaten salad. He’s supposed to be on a diet, but he’d gladly eat a five course meal if it meant being able to spend time with you. “Sorry!” he smiles, “I was too busy staring at you, it seems!” Other people would’ve gotten flustered with his teasing. Suo knows he’s handsome and talks well.

“Oh?” you tilt your head, “do I look pretty today? You’ve been staring a lot~”

Suo’s gaze snaps back to you, his heart skipping a beat. He instantly regrets it when he sees you smiling at him teasingly, a lock of hair falling in front of your face perfectly.

“Very.” he breathes out, brushing your hair away from your face. Hoping that it’d be enough to finally fluster you. Hoping that he can finally win against you for once.

He didn’t expect you to blush. The red tinting your cheeks makes you glow. “Hayato-kun, a surprise attack like that is not fair..”

Suo feels like he’s finally reclaiming himself. Redeeming himself from the devil that is you. Feeling brave, he moves his hand to rest on top of yours, not missing the way your eyes widen ever so slightly. Maybe, maybe....

“What..?”

“It’s my birthday this week.” He starts, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “do you have any plans?”

In truth, he knows that you already plan on spending the weekend with Kaji Ren (how can he not know, when Kaji blabs to everyone about it?) but he wonders if you’ll choose to be with him instead. He tried not to be desperate but he already knew there’s no fooling you, not when the corners of your lips lift ever so slightly—

“Oh, really?!”

He can see that the gears in your brain are turning, your pretty eyes flitting across the room to find an excuse. Still, the enthusiasm in your voice left him hoping.

“I forgot! You know how bad I am with my own schedule..”

Suo exhales, trying not to look disappointed.

“But I’ll definitely cancel them to give you a surprise party!” You pull his hands to hold them tight, a serious look on your face, “Wait. It’s not a surprise if I tell you beforehand, is it?”

The twinkle in your eyes makes Suo wonder if you’ve expected this test. He may have won this fight, but he’s destined to lose the war. There’s just no winning against you.

Even so, he has won this fight... and he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else.

KAJI REN -> YOU CHEW MY HEART LIKE BUBBLEGUM !

Kaji tries to not go overboard, but he did anyway.

He’s tailored the hangout to your exact liking, booking everything two weeks in advance, making you squeal in joy when he tells you that he secured a spot in that hip new café that you keep eyeing during walks.

So when you fail to show up, Kaji knew that it was because of another man. He may be oblivious sometimes but he’s not stupid. There’s no way you cancelled on him last minute to feed your grandma’s cat. Your grandma died two months ago for God’s sake.

That’s why he’s steeled his heart to finally break away from your grasp. He can’t keep hurting himself and hoping you’d finally see him as your only love. He’s not stupid.

“I’m sorry, Ren-kun... you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”

He refuses to look at you, knowing that he’d fold the instant he sees those gorgeous eyes.

“I messed up.. I have no excuse..”

“Why?” he asks, demands for you to say it with your own mouth. Say that you chose another man over him.

“Okay. I’ll tell you the truth.” You bent down to look at him, unrelenting even when he stares at you coldly, “It was Hayato-kun’s birthday yesterday. I threw him a surprise party with Haruka-kun and Nirei-kun.”

There’s a rare sincerity in your words, a fragile honesty that makes him both relieved and forlorn. “Thank you for telling the truth.” He didn’t want you to see him cry, so he gets up and starts to walk away.

“Wait! Ren-kun!” You call after him, making him walk faster. His eyes are already starting to burn. He had wanted you to tell him the truth, so why does it still hurt this much?

“Oof!”

The sudden thud makes him stop dead in his tracks. The unmistakable sound of a crash. He spins around, seeing you bent over on the ground, holding your knee. His heart drops, already forgetting the reason he walked away in the first place.

“Why are you so clumsy?!” He chides, squatting down next to you. The red in your knee is starting to drip down to your ankle. Guilt bubbles up in his throat, blocking his airway. You’re bleeding because of him.

“Sorry, I can’t even walk right..” you’re still smiling even when tears are streaming down your face. Even then, you look radiant.

“Climb up.” He offers his back, almost losing his mind from the guilt and worry.

“I can’t receive any more of your kindness,” your voice is small behind him, “I’m a horrible friend..”

Kaji wants to yell at you to prioritize yourself more, to tell you that he’ll probably sulk for a day before returning to you with a wagging tail— but all his words get caught in his throat when he sees you crying.

What can he do, except pull you into his embrace?

You melt almost instantly, sobbing apologies after apologies.

What can he do, except tell you that it doesn’t matter and he’s the one at fault?

Fuck it. He is stupid, he is dumb— and he will continue to be, if it means being able to hold you in his arms.

UMEMIYA HAJIME -> SHE MAKES THEM FALL DOWN TO THEIR KNEES AND CRY

Umemiya thinks that he has an advantage over the other guys that flock to you.

When you had a bad day and snap at him, he pats your head and listens to your problems. When he saw you laughing with Endo and Takiishi, he turns a blind eye. When you tell him you suddenly felt like hanging out with Togame, there’s a prick in his heart, but even so, he understands.

He’s very mature and mentally stable. No amount of cancelling plans and harsh words and flirting with other boys can faze him. He thought that those qualities would make you love him more— but he is so sorely mistaken.

“Is something on your mind?” Umemiya bends down slightly but you look away, your lips pursed into a tight line. He rubs your hair, knowing how much you love headpats, but all he got is an annoyed huff.

He’s terrified now.

“What’s wrong?” He can no longer hide the panic in his voice.

Finally, you look at him.

“You don’t love me.”

Your accusation makes him want to die. How can you say that he doesn’t love you when he has fought all his jealousy and killed all his pride?

Umemiya leads you to a nearby bench and kneels down to your height, trying to use the cold ground as a way to cool his beating heart, “Why do you say that?”

You’re twirling a lock of hair now, something you always do when you’re annoyed. “Do you even want to be with me? It’s like you’re just hanging out with me to pass time. Do you even care?”

Your words seem so straightforward, yet Umemiya still doesn’t understand. Whatever did he do that can possibly translate to such a baseless statement?

“I didn’t know that you’re not on good terms with Endo and Takiishi. I look like a bad friend. You don’t even care who I’m hanging out with.”

But Umemiya does care. He cares so much about who you’re hanging out with that he secretly tells the guys to go on patrols whenever you come to visit him, knowing that you’ll definitely get distracted otherwise. He cares so much that he tells Takiishi Chika to stay the hell away from you, causing him to get into a full blown fight. He cares.

“I do.” He frowns, “If I tell you I’m a jealous person, what will you do?”

He merely wanted to punish you a bit for doubting his affections. Someone as kind as you would definitely get flustered when he says something so out of character.

But when he glances at you, you look at him straight in the eyes.

“I will be happy,” The light from the lamppost casts a warm glow over your face, “because finally, you’re being honest with me.”

Umemiya doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Your words are so kind, so you, but it’s like alarm bells are going off inside his head.

“I like it when Hajime-kun is jealous. In fact, I like all of Hajime-kun’s qualities.” Your hand is now tangled in his hair, caressing them softly.

It’s scary how your touch silences all his doubts and makes him putty in your hands. He breathes out a sigh of relief and leans into your touch, knowing that he found favor in your eyes again. “Okay. Okay. I am jealous. Don’t hate me because of that..”

He looks up to see you smiling and a chill runs down his spine.

If you want him to beg, he will beg. If you want him to cry, he will cry. He might try not to show it, but heaven knows he will move hell to be with you.

TOGAME JO -> MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’VE BECOME INSANE.

Being a Shishitoren second-in-command makes Togame unable to spend as much time with you as he’d like.

You live in Makochi, so naturally you’re friends with the Furin boys. Normally, he’d feel relieved that you have other people to protect you from rival gangs when he’s not around, but he only now realizes how close you actually are with Bofurin.

It was supposed to be a surprise. He didn’t tell you that he’s visiting, hoping to catch you off guard when he suddenly drops by. Instead, it was you who caught him off guard.

Togame watches mutely as Umemiya pats your head, hearing the sound of his own heart breaking. The two of you doesn’t seem to realize that he’s standing right there. Like a fool.

“Oh? Togame-kun, you’re here!”

How? How can you sound so.. unbothered? He doesn’t even know what kind of expression is on his face right now.

Umemiya is looking at him without an ounce of guilt. Wait, has he been the fool all along? Has he always been second string? Togame’s head is full of thoughts, none of them good. Oh God, what should he do?

“Togame-kun? Are you okay?”

Your voice is inquisitive, innocent. He is brought back to reality when you grip his shoulder. He looks at you, standing on your tippy toes, your eyes wide and searching.

“You... him..”

“Hm?” As if reminded, you look at Umemiya. “Well, you didn’t tell me you were coming, so I had Hajime-kun walk me home! Uh, but since you’re here...”

Umemiya smiles. Tight. Togame knows that he will probably get a beating if you’re not there. But you are. And Umemiya Hajime relents.

“Right! We can walk home tomorrow. It’s not like everyday Togame visits!” Umemiya’s voice is cheery but the icy undertones is clear.

Don’t you dare make this an everyday occurence.

When Umemiya disappears, Togame lets you pull him with you, still at a loss for words.

“Sooo, what brought you here?” You seem so happy to see him... as if he didn’t just catch you with another man. “Oh, I just realized you have your hair tied! You look good! I like you better this way, I think!”

“Are you... going out with Umemiya Hajime?” Like a fool, that is the only thing can he can say.

You blink at him in surprise, like he just asked you if elephants could fly. Was he not supposed to ask? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything... but you told him you love him.

“I...”

Your laugh interrupts his train of thought. “Of course not, silly!” It seems like his question is so funny that you’re actually doubling over and smacking his arm. “Oh, Togame-kun. Are you jealous?”

Are you seriously asking him that right now?

He’s not jealous. He’s furious.

“Maybe?”

“Aww, you’re so cute! And kinda naive, but like in a really cute way!” You’re resting your head on his arm now, hugging it as the two of you continue walking, “Me and Hajime-kun, we’re just friends! You can ask him if you want!”

Togame doesn’t know what to say. He feels stupid. Maybe he’s just not used to having female friends who’s also friends with other guys. “Why do you call him by his first name?”

You stop walking, causing him to pause too. “Oh my God!” Feeling you pull his arm, Togame turns to look at you. “Togame-kun, you’re totally jealous! That’s so cute! Is it because I don’t call you by your first name?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Why would you say you love him and call another guy by his first name? But now that Togame hears himself, he wonders if he’s just being crazy. He’s ashamed of himself now.

“Don’t sulk like that, Jo-kun. I was too shy to call you so intimately, you know!”

Togame feels like he’s being pacified... but he doesn’t hate it. He pulls you closer to him, engulfing you in a side hug, letting you nuzzle up to him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I don’t really care.”

He feels crazy. Seeing you with another man brought him to the edge of insanity. Luckily, Togame is not someone who backs down so easily. He watches you laughing and wonders when you’ll finally realize his feelings.

Maybe if he deals with Umemiya Hajime, you’ll finally be his and his alone?

ENDO YAMATO -> DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU

From the start, Endo can see that you and him are similar.

The two of you hide behind smiles, faking feelings until you lose track of what you actually feel. Trying to put a brave front and succeeding so much that everyone thinks you’re a self-obsessed, entitled brat with the ego of Mount Fuji.

Maybe he’s so full of himself that he sees so much of himself in you and he falls in love.

Despairingly.

Because you immediately call him out on his feelings, warning him that you don’t feel the same way.

Perhaps he truly is so sure of himself because he tells you that he will wait for you, however long it takes. As if waiting for you can make you love him.

“You’re hurt again!” Is the first thing you say when Endo walks to you today. Your eyebrows are immediately scrunched, eyes glowing in worry.

When he’s hurt, he feels like he’s the only one in your eyes.

You carefully examine the gash on his arm, delicately tracing the ends of the wound. Endo winces a bit. “Does that hurt? I’ll get a first aid kit.”

Endo watches in awe as your fingers move quickly, dressing his wound with the finesse of a nurse. You don’t catch him staring, too busy on your handiwork. On him.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He says, hoping you’ll say otherwise.

“Mhm. But I did.”

“So why did you?” Endo feels like an attention-seeking child.

You close the first aid kit and look at him, sighing. “Because I care about you.”

His eyes must’ve glimmered with hope, because you quickly added, “You get hurt a lot, so I worry about you.”

“It’s because.. my head is not at the right place today.” Oh, he’s so desperate to get you to pay attention to him.

Who cares if he purposefully angers Chika? Maybe one of these days you’ll catch the guy beating him to a pulp with your own eyes and you’ll stop spending so much time with that devil. Who cares if he let Chika throw that punch? The more cuts he has, the better. That means you’ll spend more time dressing him up.

“What’s wrong?”

Endo shakes his head. “You won’t understand.”

He has long learned that you never back down from a challenge.

“Really? Try me.”

See? Endo smiles, “What do you do when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?”

There’s an indecipherable emotion in your eyes.

“What do you do...” Endo muses, “when you’ve tried to forget about this person, but you can’t?” He lets you hold his hand, inching closer to lean on you for comfort, “I think I love her with every fibre of my being.”

“Maybe someday she’ll return your feelings too.”

Endo closes his eyes and smiles. You spew out such beautiful lies, he fears he’ll start to believe them soon. “I hope so.”

“Yamato-kun. If someday...” your voice wavers, “if someday I were to return your feelings, would you still accept me?”

You know just how to play with his heart. Even so, he will take any chance that he gets. He grips your shoulders, staring into your eyes unblinkingly. “Yes. I told you I’ll wait.”

“Really?”

“How do you want me to prove it to you?”

You gaze at him. “Kiss me.”

Endo wants to cry. What is this game you’re playing now? Do you want to make sure he will never move on from you? To make sure he is so in love with you that he will do anything for you without hesitation? How much crueler can you be?

And how stupid is he?

He moves slowly, making sure that you’re not going to take back what you said. All you do is look at him with expectant eyes, not moving from your position, daring him to actually do it.

So Endo kisses you. And whatever doubts he has about his relationship with you disappears into thin air. All his rationale goes flying out the window. The electricity he feels when his lips move against yours can light a whole city.

You’re the first one to pull away, leaving him gazing at you helplessly.

“I’ll do it however many times you want.”

You merely smile in reply.

Well, you did warn him. But when has Endo ever let a warning stop him? You’re so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that even when the consequences of his actions leave him dying from a broken heart, Endo doesn’t think he will ever regret his choices.

TAKIISHI CHIKA -> SHE MAKES THE DEVIL WET HIS BED AT NIGHTTIME !

Takiishi isn’t used to chasing after people.

Even now, he tries not to show you how much he likes you. He knows you’re a sadist; he’s not blind to the long line of guys that you have left begging on their knees... and how you revel at their tears.

But Takiishi just can’t control himself when you get friendly with other guys. He knows that sometimes you do it purposefully. Why, he has no idea. Maybe you want to remind him that you’re able to leave him anytime, that he should stay on his knees for you.

Even without you testing him, Takiishi will always spend his lifetime begging for a fraction of your affection. He doesn’t care about what he has to do as long as he can be with you.

“Chika-kun.”

He already knows what you’re going to say next. “You know why I beat the shit out of him.” He states, getting up from his seat. “He loves it when you take care of his injuries. You know that.”

You sigh and close the door behind you. “Perhaps. Does that anger you?”

Takiishi wonders why you like to test his patience. No matter what you do, he can never bring himself to hurt you. He can’t even say anything that might offend you.

“Why do you not like me?” Takiishi questions, “Yet, you still linger around me. Why?”

He doesn’t even dare to slam the wall next to you, opting instead to cage you with his arms.

“Who says I don’t like you?”

“You..”

“I like you, Chika-kun.” There’s sincerity in your voice, but you’re not done. “It’s just that.. I also like Yamato-kun, Hajime-kun—”

“Stop.” Takiishi growls, “Do you want me to beat all of them to a pulp? You know that’s what I will do every time you say their name in my presence.”

“And give Yamato-kun another reason to spend more time with me? Make me visit Hajime-kun until his wounds are completely healed? Because you know they will let you throw that punch,” you whisper in his ear sweetly, “so I can take pity on them.”

Takiishi wants to scream, but no sound came out.

“But you will always win, Chika-kun. You’re the strongest fighter, after all. With no wound to dress, who will take pity on you?”

God, you’re mean today.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he did, or what to say. He just wants you to stop being so cruel.

You laugh. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Everything.”

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you hug him, feeling his arms immediately snaking around your waist to pull your closer. You let him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Oh, Chika-kun. How can I ever leave you?”

“Don’t.”

If anyone were to see the Takiishi Chika, speaking so softly and acting so defeated, his reputation would’ve crumbled to the ground. Thankfully you’re not just anyone— you’re the only weakness he has, the one thing he will never let go.

No matter how bloody his hands get, he will make sure to take care of your long line of guys so that he will be the last man standing.

[beforetimes]

Foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of role reversal Binghe and Yuan, don't mind me

Also don't mind me just spitballing here, you can take this as a prompt or not! But can you imagine Binghe's reaction to seeing Shen Yuan years in the future, probably still at Jinlan city? Not only is he taking in how different Shen Yuan looks, either in regards to how the abyss changed him or just how he's grown, but Binghe doesn't have prior knowledge that Shen Yuan would live through the abyss.

Can you imagine the shock? The misunderstanding as Binghe doesn't react to anything because he's still processing that his beloved disciple is THERE, he's ALIVE. He was though to be dead for years, but somehow he survived the abyss.

heyyyy anon so glad that i’ve managed to inspire the same obsession in you that’s spawned in me seemingly overnight. anddd i didn’t even consider the possibility of this scene when i came up with this scenario but let me try my hand at what it’d look like… also i know i wrote his name all as shen yuan in this but i only noticed after i finished and i don't want to rewrite. smile. enjoy!!

[og au post here!]

… 

Jinlan city carries with it a chilled breeze, curled up quietly against Luo Binghe’s skin under the edges of his robe, where flesh meets air. Face impassive, mouth a straight line and eyes heavy with poison-bourne-exhaustion only a few hours into the trip, everything spells out the path to his inevitable turning in for the night soon. The sun’s joined in his lulling to slumber, touching the horizon as the sky turns orange from blue. 

Luo Binghe drifts, a reed swaying in the wind by the riverside as he investigates the town, slipping away from Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang to survey the ghost town in his lonesome. 

Everything is par for the course, almost mundane enough that Luo Binghe feels a muted frustration grab at the epicentre of his chest, wrapped around the raw meat of his heart. Always muted, desaturated and less than every sensation could be, as though Shen Yuan took with him a shred of Luo Binghe. If he were an artist, then Shen Yuan wasn’t just his muse but every hue of colour, enshrined in Luo Binghe’s memory in smudges of peach, white, green, and rosy pinks. 

Of course, Luo Binghe hasn’t felt like much of anything in a long time. Every day feels like going through familiar, pre-determined motions, drifitng in and out of classes with a commitment inspired in him that never possessed him before the Immortal Alliance Conference. Even this mission, a slight deviation from the norm, feels easy enough to slot into a quiet part of his mind, where everything mundane gathers dust. Months, almost years worth of memories tucked away in a damp corner. 

This should be more of the same. Luo Binghe is anticipating nothing else. 

Then—a figure bumps into him, bringing him to a stumbling halt. 

He’s practiced; the figure picks up speed when his gaze passes over them, so Luo Binghe pursues, numbness clenching at the hollow of his chest like a bird nipping fingers. Short bursts of static aimed at his hummingbird heart as he ducks into shadowy alleyways, a maze bringing him eventually to the second story of a seemingly-abandoned home. 

Hand resting on his sword, Luo Binghe creeps up the stairs. Opening to a room, his gaze skips over the furniture in his first sweep before he stills at the sight of the balcony. Silhouette traced against the setting sun, the figure lowers their hood as Luo Binghe unsheaths his spiritual weapon. Its hardly silent, and the figure’s face snaps over to meet Luo Binghe’s eyes. 

Lightning strikes, a shock to the heart. 

Shen Yuan exhales a moment later, and it hurts almost twice as bad. 

“Shizun…” He says, words so quiet he’s almost mouthing them to himself. Cultivation pulled from the equation, Luo Binghe doesn’t think he would have heard them. Here, however, they twist a blade into his palpating, trembling chest. “It’s really you here?” 

He opens his mouth but words loathe to creep past his throat and spill over his teeth. Luo Binghe can only stare, drinking in details he never dared imagine, his disciple last remembered bloodied and sobbing at the ridge of a gorge touched by years Luo Binghe thought Shen Yuan had lost because of his Shizun’s incompetence. 

Gone are the gentle greens and whites of Qing Jing Peak, replaced with navy blue, near black, and charcoal gray robes that layer over themselves thrice over, as though Shen Yuan tries to keep himself warm. His face lost its last vestiges of baby fat, severe green eyes dulled yet still imbued with life. Hair shiny, longer, left in a simple updo unbefitting of Qing Jing Peak’s strict standards. Luo Binghe’s mind wanders back to hazy mornings spent brushing his disciple’s hair before he’s forcefully yanked back to the present. 

“I suppose Shizun suspects this lowly demon to be responsible for the plague?” Shen Yuan asks, unsurprised yet words saddled with inexplicable defeat. “With word from Qing Jing Peak’s immortal master against this one, I suppose there’s no point in dragging out the inevitable trial, though Shizun can decide if this one should dare show his face to the other Peak Lords Shizun’s brought with him.” 

“Shen Yuan,” Luo Binghe manages to croak, mind speeding to such an extent that forcing words out feels like fighting past a hot charcoal shoved down his throat. 

“Or,” Shen Yuan continues, as though uninterrupted, starting to pace in a way so familiar and practiced that any imagined excuses of possession or imitation vanish themselves from Luo Binghe’s mind, “Or maybe Shizun wants to bring this stupid evil demon to the Sect Leader himself before executing him—maybe he wants to claim the glory of becoming Jinlan’s saviour, maybe—maybe Shizun wants this disciples head on a spike, or—“ 

Shen Yuan whips around, eyes burning into Luo Binghe’s with intensity that would unwaver him if he wasn’t already off-balance. Hazy and near-floating, feeling his heart beat outside his frail body. Despite the weight of it, there’s a vulnerable desperation that robs him of breath, too reminiscent of days Shen Yuan spent at the end of Luo Binghe’s bed on days where the world pinned him to the sheets without mercy. Violent and fervent hope seems to overtake Shen Yuan.

“Or maybe Shizun just—? WIll—this one knows that Shizun wants… But everything else has changed, I can— This one—Maybe Shizun wants me to live?” 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Luo Binghe manages to say, and watches Shen Yuan’s expression freeze before shuttering, scrubbed away from a too-pale face and replaced with a jade-like twist to his lips so cold it feels as though it cuts at Luo Binghe’s skin. 

He reaches out and Shen Yuan flinches. 

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, standing days away from home yet able to feel the press of grass and stone under his knees as he stares at a solitary grave in Qing Jing Peak’s bamboo forest. 

You’re supposed to be dead, he thinks, watching Shen Yuan turn from disciple to stranger, any hope in his former student's shoulders deflating until Shen Yuan’s taking up very little space, completely unaware he’s done it at all. 

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, remembering every single conversation with Liu Qingge where they both quietly tell themselves there’s no body, there’s always a chance. They both knew they were lying to each other. I mourned you. I mourned you I mourned you I mourned you. 

In the same room, Shen Yuan retreats, and despite being closer than they have been in years, Luo Binghe can feel the channel of one-sided hatred between the two of them grow ever-deeper.

masterpost

[mona-risms]

imagine Rumi trying to be dominant only to immediately fold when met with resistance 🤭

Oh girl 😭 it's over for her

Her reference for trying to be the dominant one is the fact that she's the leader, and honestly probably has grown up to BE a leader considering Celine's training and how HUNTR/X was built around her. So honestly the fact that you end up reversing it on her will have her head SPINNINGGGGG

Imagine her trying to pin you down but she finds herself actually STRUGGLING—dare I even say you even switch it up so that SHE'S the one getting pinned with no way out—and her pupils go absolutely BLOWN black at the sudden strength difference

But that's only ifl you're also a demon or you're really hench, bc I seriously doubt you'd be able to overpower her physically (they're HUNTERS ffs, not to mention Rumi's HALF-DEMON). But otherwise, if you nudge your knee between her thighs and have her grind on it? Move your head to nip on Rumi's ear before whispering about how you'd love to see just how she plans on pleasing you? Oh she's GONE she's like stunned and her cheeks glow like her demon markings LMFAO

And if you take that opportunity to twist your roles around? Even better bc she's Completely short-circuiting and won't actually process what's going on until a moan leaves her lips from you just biting lightly on her collarbone. This girl isn't used to NOT taking point and just relaxing and letting go, considering how she's been raised to take guard and take front (even her fucking WEAPON indicates that, since the glaive is more mid-range, the knives are long-range, and Rumi's sword is SHORT-RANGE), so it'd definitely be a new feeling for her

A Very good feeling too, especially when she realises she can turn her brain off and take what you give her as you guide her through everything and eat her out until her senses go to mush 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[heartsforrain00]

Ride him till he cries ! — Choso Kamo

warnings: soft dom Choso, riding him, reverse cowgirl, beginning to tear up, pet names; baby, my love, love-making, breast grabbing, slight somnophilia(?)

riding him first thing in the morning !/🌽 link

Choso Kamo

You were dating Choso, and with him being half human, half curse, he didn’t understand most things that humans did. Like when you did your facemask, or skin routine in general, he was always confused.

He would normally participate in your routines, to get the feeling of something new that he's never experienced. There would even be times where he'd try to make up his own routines to match yours.

He thinks it's out of love and affection, because coming from him, it most definitely is out of love and affection. He loves you so much and needed to be by your side.

Well, now he was asleep in your shared bed, while you were taking a shower, humming as you got out and discovered your baby was still asleep.

You'll wake him up with something special, and maybe even a breakfast later on. You hum, knowing you'll have to take another shower, but you'll be able to take it with him!

You hum as you put on your pajamas, seeing him slowly waking up, meaning it's time for your plan to begin. You know the pajamas you had on, are Choso's favorite pair.

You hum as you crawl on top of him. He doesn't realize that you're on top of him. Well not yet of course, you hum as you pull his boxers down.

You sit there to admire his cock for a moment before turning around so your back was facing him, moving your shorts and underwear over. He hums as he looks at you, his eyes barely open as he attempts to process what was going on.

Choso lets out a groan as he feels you go down onto him. His hand travels to your waist, to steady you. You begin to ride him, humming as you placed your hands onto his thighs.

You haven't even noticed that he's really awake, you just thought he was putting his hand on your waist like he normally does when he's asleep.

He was staring at you the whole time you bounced on his dick, you've never done that while he was awake, so what's the occassion now?

He grabbed your waist with both hands, and just controlled the pace as he bounced you on his dick.

He winced as he threw his head back, whimpering as he continued to bounce you on his dick, you finally realized that he was awake, so you decide to take advantage of the situation.

Placing your hands onto his, and began to bounce on him faster, and harder, allowing his tip to hit your cervix.

His eyes became teary as you continued bouncing, you look back to see his tears, slightly worried you stop, as you move yourself off him and cup his face. “Cho, baby are you okay?”

You questioned, wiping his tears as you kissed his forehead. He nodded as he looked at you. “You didn't get to cum - 'M sorry baby, can I make you cum still?” He asked, looking down at your hips.

“When I get back home, we can have all the time in the world for you to make me cum baby, I love you” You murmur, as you lay on his chest. He kisses your forehead and mutters a soft 'i love you' back.

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

Oh, I've seen it around! And I do!

There is a specific version of Relativity Falls that lives in my head, lol.

Instead of the Stan 'o War their joint dream is to become a director and a movie star respectively, and instead of a big blowout fight in senior year, Dipper and Mabel are separated because of their parents divorcing and then each taking a twin Parent Trap-style. (Because honestly if Mabel got kicked out like Stan you can't tell me Dipper wouldn't be running out of the house to join her then and there no matter what the catalyst was; he's protective of her in a way the Ford wasn't with Stan, not to mention the difference between a girl being stuck on the streets compared to a boy…)

Mabel eventually runs away from home to both achieve her starlet dream (goes… not so well, leading a checkered life that isn't as harrowing as Stan's but is still wild as hell) and to meet back up with Dipper. Unfortunately the info her mother gave her on Dipper's whereabouts/contact info is either out of date or just flat-out wrong. So they remain out of contact for a while until Dipper sees her on the tv and he haggles her into coming to live with him in Gravity Falls. Mystery twins shenanigans ensue!

One big thing about my concept for a Relativity Falls au is I think it would be really fun to reverse the forefont weirdness. There's a lot of magic in Gravity Falls but Ford is more of a sci-fi hero/mad scientist with a smidge of wizard. So in turn I think Dipper should be a wizard/alchemist with a smidge of mad scientist. Stan and Mabel similarly go from cryptid-focused con-man to witchy con-woman.

Taking it further, I think it'd be fun to either make the portal a magical one instead, or to straight-up not have Bill be the big bad because let's be honest here, the grown-up version of Dipper "world's most suspicious 12 year old" Pines would have one conversation with Bill and go "GOD you suck. Absolutely no deal, you Mr. Monopoly wannabe." and instead Dipper accidentally gets thrown out of his dimension by messing with… idk, this version of Gravity Falls' fae population or something. And that's how Mabel keeps the house--his real first name got stolen in the process so all they can tell is that it's a deed in the name of someone with an M. So, Mabel, they guess.

And then Mabel spends 30 years not only figuring out how to bring him back but waiting for like, the right astrological alignments to even bring him back.

[xo2dee]

Ugh babe I need your take on a submissive vergil! Like whatever you want

PAIRING: Vergil/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Submissive!Vergil, Vaginal Sex, Praise Kink, Creampie. WORD COUNT: 902.

A/N: thank you for the request! honestly this is something i've wondered but i feel would be a once in lifetime opportunity bc personally i dont really see him giving up control so easily lmao. this is also kinda more a drabble and character study but i hope you like this!

DMC MASTERLIST

Begging was never in Vergil’s vocabulary, and to be frank he found it rather beneath him to actually even entertain the idea of ever begging or submitting to anyone.

So why was it he found himself underneath you quite literally submitting to your will and every roll of your hips as his teeth gnashed and body fought to not completely overwhelm you?

It had been a process on your behalf apparently, and by process you weren’t too proud to beg when you crawled up into his lap and asked him if you could take control for once with that sweet, hymn of a tone you liked to do when you wanted something. The innuendo had escaped him at first, then when your fingers began coyly toying with the zipper of his vest and your mouth pulled into one of those insufferable (yet adoring) grins, he finally understood just what you were getting at. The sexual relationship wasn’t by all means absent, but it was severely absent in terms of letting you have your way with him as opposed to the many times you’d been underneath him writhing in pleasure. Perhaps it was his own hate for loss of control on any fronts that was the cause, but he hadn’t been blind to not notice the aggressive initiation of your kisses or when you rolled on top and tried to set a pace different from his own at times, he’d just been blind to notice that it had been something you’d been longing for.

And then Vergil remembered if he had one weakness in the world, it was you. And everything you did to him.

He’d be lying not to say the idea hadn’t crossed his mind once or twice, and he entertained the idea since he trusted you well enough, however he hadn’t been completely sold to the idea until you sighed and then tugged on his ear with a promise.

“Once, then you can have your way with me all night.”

Immunity was never one of his strong suits, and as soon as you said it he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face you groaned at once the thought played across his mind. So, that was how he ended up pushed back on the bed enough to nearly startle him from your tenacity and then to where he was at the moment fighting every single urge to not bust everything he had within you. It certainly didn’t help when you leant over murmured praises kissed into his skin – a far cry from the usual words he was throwing at you and it was astonishing to him to realize how much he enjoyed it.

And it was a curse on his behalf, his body betraying trying to play coy with you and refuse to let you know how much he enjoyed your control so much that you immediately caught on and ramped up all your actions. Words flitted by into Vergil’s ears, converging together of things like, “You’re doing so well…”, “Only you make me feel like this…”, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”, “You’re so good when you listen to me.”, and then –

“You’re mine, Vergil.”

Maybe it was way you said it, breathy and whispered into his ear, or maybe it was the way the roles were reversed that time and he hadn’t been the one to hiss it out in a fit of possessiveness, but he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling. Your bout of want transcended than what he had originally presumed, the idea of you claiming him as much as he claimed you burning a hole into his stomach as his fingers stretched and cracked to give way to the talons that laid beneath. He couldn’t stop it, and he was in temptation to let the mask crack away and give you the side you had wanted to see, and it was a losing battle on his end when he learned how loud he was being compared to you.

Then you leaned over and bit into his neck, matching a mark of his own onto you, and Vergil’s entire self-control blew out the window as he gave himself to you in finality.

It was as shameful as it was euphoric how quickly he found himself ruined within you, your gasp twisting into a moan as your own body jerked with pleasure stimulation before you joined him and he had to fight the overstimulation deep in his gut. He wasn’t too far gone to not catch you when you flopped onto him in exhaustion, spent and sleek in sweat as the heat of your body made his heart stutter a fraction. Thankfully, his time to recuperate was nearly nonexistent, dragging a claw tenderly along the curve of your back for a reminder of what you had promised him.

You had your fun (and his as well), but he wasn’t about to let you get away with the bite mark (no matter if it was already healing).

Your fingers came up to skim his cheek, and Vergil’s eyelashes fluttered at the soft sensation before you hummed into his collarbone, “Gimme two – no, three minutes. Then we can do whatever you want.”

Vergil could only sigh once he realized he was indeed submitted to you, perhaps thinking it wasn’t really so bad given how much trust he placed into you for that matter.

[jupiterianguru]

entry 001: messages from your ancestors

            ྀི❀⋆.ೃྀི࿔*:･

author’s note — while tarot can be a tool, you are in control of your own life. life is NOT linear and there’s no black and white answers to anything. take what resonates and if it doesn’t make you feel good, then let it go.

—

one:

the sun + 7 of cups reversed + ace of wands rx

additionally: 8 of swords + the moon rx

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors may have used their hands to create or build. i feel like you come from a lineage that has creative abilities, maybe you tend to have a lot of inclinations towards creating art or even simply appreciating art. there's natural talents or gifts for creation present here for sure.

they're giving you the green light for something. there's a feeling that you must get started on something but you might not know how, in what direction, or what resources to use. there's a mental blockage or a creative blockage if you will. you know, it's said that the throat chakra (responsible for authenticity and expression) is connected to our sacral (responsible for our emotions and creativity). i mention this for a reason, stay with me now. it's almost like you want to get started on said thing but each time you want to begin, your brain starts to bring up unnecessary, negative chatter. you get stuck on the how's, the ifs, and the buts. in turn, you find yourself stuck right before a point of creating. keeping you paralyzed with a feeling of being so close yet so far. spoiler alert: these thoughts are distractions from something deeper. here is where that throat chakra and sacral chakra connection comes in.

you're not doing anything wrong, matter of fact this is apart of your creative process. not only that, your healing. a big part of these thoughts are a core belief that is wanting to be acknowledged and seen. it's not that you're missing the gift, talent, or resources because you possess everything you need to move forward and create. but rather the blockage is coming from emotional needs that have been suppressed. i feel like the individuals that chose this pile are big intellectualizers and have labelled themselves as "self-aware." i'm not saying you're not self-aware. you most likely are... but the problem in this is that you do not allow yourself to sit with your emotions. when you hold space with your emotions, you are allowing yourself to come as you are. there's no good or bad emotions when sitting with them, you simply acknowledge them as emotions that are valid and natural. no matter how complex they may seem, we humans are complex and yet there's normalcy in the fact that we are so complex... you see. nothing is black and white.

give yourself a break and let yourself feel the frustration, the boredom, the angst, the sadness, etc. it's trying to tell you something. it's only when you sit in stillness that you will conquer the chatter and eventually get to where you want to get to. don't force yourself to create. you will get their on your own.

the reason i feel like this was an ancestral message is because i feel like some of your ancestors did not allow themselves to feel and eventually gave up on their craft. leading to a lifetime of regret. the good news is you are aware of this. sit your ass down and ask yourself why you are feeling what you're feeling.

this message especially reigns true for those who have been having or started this year off emotionally turbulent.

thank you. sending you love.

 

    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

two:

10 of cups + knight of wands + knight of pentacles

additionally: ace of swords rx + king of cups

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors feel like people that moved from the heart like genuine passion and love for the world and others. very generous. i also hear laughter so perhaps some of them were jokesters, pranksters, or just simply people who loved to make others smile. i'm hearing that song from tangled "when will my life begin?" despite the happiness exuding from the outside, theres a sadness i feel within. maybe some of the individuals in your lineage never truly got their "happy-ending." whatever that meant for them, it could be that they had a dream to get married and never met that person. or if they did get married, it ended in divorce or tragedy. or maybe their dream was to go to college and become a professional, but they didn't end up finishing or have the resources to go. this is a general reading so of course it varies but the jist of it is that their dreams were either short-lived or couldn't happen at all.

there's a dream that your heart is set on. my grandma told me once that if you desire something so much that it makes you cry just thinking about it, it's meant for you. your ancestors are acknowledging that you have everything you need to obtain this dream. it may not seem like it to you but they have a birds eye view and they're saying that it's in you. but goddamn, you gotta really believe in it.

perhaps you're just starting to realize that this is attainable or you're starting to take steps towards this dream but it feels like such a far journey. it could be overwhelming, sometimes you may have bad days, or you just feel like there's no support and it's lonely. honestly, you guys may catastrophize the situation a bit sometimes. like just cause you have one bad day, week, or even a month doesn't mean all of a sudden your dream is gone or you're not worthy of it anymore. this is called a journey! your journey to your dream is not a easy path, duh, then the dream itself wouldn't be rewarding.

little mini story (i promise it's relevant): when i first read someone for the first time and found out of my healing abilities, i read them for two hours straight and afterwards i just cried pure tears of joy for an hour saying thank you to my team and creator. out of everything, all I could do is bask in that gratitude because it felt like all my pain, my suffering, my joy, etc. lead me to that moment. it was worth it. i've been on my journey for years now and i often go back to that memory, especially when i feel like my heavier days and emotions have consumed me.

this is how it should feel for you. you want this so bad for a reason. sometimes you may go through upbeat and fast times, it may feel like you're working towards something or what you're doing is beneficial to your dream but other times it may feel slow, down, like every step you're taking may be directionless. this is normal! this is how it should feel! despite what those people who have what you want portray on socials, it's a journey. everyone wants results so quickly now without putting work in, without enjoying the journey. this causes faulty foundations and unaligned outcomes. not everything is meant to be fast moving, positive, or happy all the time. you don't have to be in that energy all the time to be worthy of it. embrace both of these moments in the journey and trust that the seeds you have planted are growing. you don't plant a seed and watch it grow right? you nurture it, give it love, care, and trust that it will grow.

when you're lacking clarity or are doubtful, remember to be like the king of cups. move with these emotions rather than stay stuck in them. the king of cups shows us that we can be patient with ourselves and our bigger emotions but not let them consume us or cloud us. having a bad day? take a walk, a bath, spend time with family, friends or a pet. soothe yourself and don't let one bad day dictate the rest of your journey, you won't always feel like this and your situation won't always look like this either.

this message reigns true for those who have a dream pertaining to building a family, community, getting married, etc. your dream will be prosperous, stable, and so emotionally-fullfilling. it's possible the individuals that picked this pile may have came from less fortunate circumstances or just didn't get dealt the best cards in life. just because you came from that, doesn't mean that is your fate. you will make your ancestors proud and all past versions of you proud.

thank you. sending you love.

         

    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

three:

page of cups + 4 of swords + the empress + the hermit

additionally: the high priestess rx + 6 of swords rx

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors carry a heavy energy pertaining to surviving. they never gave themselves a break simply because they couldn't. they needed to work to survive. i feel like crying for this lineage because that's all they knew is how to work their ass off until they were so tired. solely because their life depended on it or their children's life depended on it. health complications may be significant. you may be more susceptible to feeling the effects of stress. you may have things like back pain, insomnia, weight fluctuation, etc.

sit your ass down and rest. the end. that's the message.

no but really, if you're wondering why you don't see progress in any area of your life, it's cause you're not listening to your body and resting. you don't know when to quit and just unwind. let your body rest. let your mind rest. everything is always go go go. and it seems like even when you do rest, it's like your spirit doesn't rest cause either your mind is still running 80 mph or you feel guilty about resting itself. there's a lack of playfulness in your life right now. it's dull and you're probably going through the same routine day by day. I'm here to tell you, nothing won't change, if you don't change.

you are worthy of rest! you are worthy of being kind and gentle to yourself! I know our capitalistic society (if you're in the states) likes us to equate a "productive" life to having your to do list with ten thousand things on it but what if I told you rest was also productive? no? not comprehendible? well, it's time to break down that belief.

let your inner child come out to play! what is one thing you always wanted to see or try? sign up for that pottery class or simply go visit a local park that you've never gone to. if you don't have resources or time to do so, then find ways to switch up your routine like drinking a new coffee or opening a window and smelling the fresh air. find a step in your old routine to kick out and break that loop.

the fact of the matter is you're tired. you have seemed to lost the spark in you. maybe you don't even recognize who you are anymore, where you're going, or why you're doing this for and it's not cause of the work you're doing but rather not listening to what your body needs. prioritize your sleep and take a warm bath. I like working with the spirit of lavender for this so sometimes i'll sit with her though tea, a spiritual bath, or even smoking her. tip: add chamomile for a more gentle, warm hug type of feeling. remember to pray, meditate, or set your intentions. gratitude is so important when working with our plant relatives and their spirit.

you will not move forward or see progress if you don't do this. point blank period. this pile's ancestors talk a very matter of factly. but it makes sense as it seems urgent in a way. you have done enough and the work you are doing whether it's actual physical work or even just emotional work is so important! they're so proud of you but understand that they have worked so hard to be able to give you the privilege of slowing down and resting. do what they could not do!

this message reigns true for those who seem to be workaholics, have mommy issues, or come from a one-parent household. whoever you are, you're someone that can't sit still and you're being asked to do this exact thing. smell the roses, look how far you've come, you deserve this! also, hot baths, hot tea, anything warm or hot is recommended!

thank you. sending you love.

:)

[bunnyreaper]

captain mactavish's reputation precedes him, and yet standing before you as he does now, you can't help but wonder if something got lost in translation. 

soap is a riot once you get him going! he used to be even wilder, if you can believe it.  always was up for a laugh as a sergeant!

the man before you looks a little grizzled with age--stubble growing out to a beard, face smeared with black warpaint, and yet beneath thick brows, his blue eyes still sparkle despite his glower. handsome though, still incredibly handsome--which in your mind, is a problematic trait for a captain to have, especially one commanding you. 

he chats away to one of his sergeants, seemingly unaware of your presence on the periphery. assignment to this task force is only temporary, you reassure yourself. facing the captain's offensive good looks and intimidating demeanour will last a couple of weeks at most.

taking a breath, you step forward, just outside of the circle of captain mactavish and his sergeants. all eyes fall to you, but his are the ones you can't tear your gaze from. he seems to scrutinise you for a moment, cerulean eyes flickering up and down your form.

"you on ma team?" his voice isn't what you expected, and his accent is delicious--you know you're capable of remaining professional despite it all.

"yes sir." you chirp back instantly, obediently--hoping to not get on the wrong side of your newfound crush. 

he nods once at each of his soldiers, dismissing them before turning and heading in the direction of the nearby truck. it takes a moment for you to process before your legs catch up to your thoughts and you start following the captain. 

"keep up then lass, let's go." he calls over his shoulder, before stopping at the passenger side door. 

it's strange how he opens it for you, watching with intense eyes as you pull your gun into your lap and sink into the seat. captain mactavish takes the driver's seat, and quickly gets the car going down the dirt track.

your thoughts start to flood back to you now you're settled in the truck and have a few moments to think before you really need to get your head in the game. 

was the captain not expecting your assignment? it was rather rushed, even taking you by surprise. you'd only just had the chance to ask around about the captain before you were on the next flight over. perhaps you should introduce yourself properly. 

"i'm--" 

your words are cut off before you can even get out your name. "i ken who ye are." he says, voice a little deadpan and jaw a little tight--it makes your heart fall in a way it certainly shouldn't. 

the whole situation just left you perplexed. it seemed captain john mactavish definitely contained multitudes, and the gruff man you saw before you was what you would get while you were out on the field. 

"then why did you ask if I was the one on your team?" you ask, determined to not fall silent lest the atmosphere suffocate you. 

the captain throws his hand over the back of your seat, eyes meeting yours only briefly before he checks the view out of the back of the truck and starts reversing at speed. 

"jus' wanted to hear ye say 'yes sir.'" 

he glances back to you as he jerks the car around. a smirk tugs at his lips, and then he throws you a wink as you finally get to see that playful side you were promised. "sounds so pretty coming from yer mouth, doll." 

[aventurineswife]

Hiii! i was thinking, do you think sagau and sahsrau would be intriuged by the fact that the creator is almost a mad scientist, or atleast very scientifically inclined? but also very soft towards children, they'd let trinnon or sayu nap on their lap no problem

Hiiii!! Ohhh my god YES—both SAGAU and SAHSRAU characters would be fascinated, unnerved, and softened by that combo. A creator who’s a brilliant, borderline mad scientist—but melts the moment a child curls up on their lap? That contrast would absolutely grip their hearts and minds.

SAHSRAU

This version of you is terrifyingly brilliant—a creator whose mind can rewire Stellaron energies, reverse-engineer aeonic phenomena, or even tinker with long-lost technology like it’s second nature. The SAHSRAU characters revere you already, but seeing how your mind works up-close? That’s when admiration becomes awe.

Kafka would be obsessed with how you toe the line between genius and madness. She watches you tinker with dangerous tech one moment, only to softly hush a child the next while letting them fall asleep in your lap—and she smiles. "You’re like a paradox wrapped in velvet and fire," she’d muse.

Himeko would respect your intelligence deeply. Watching you juggle volatile experiments without hesitation would genuinely impress her—but when she sees you gently wiping the child's face with a cloth while explaining theoretical physics in a lullaby-like voice? Her heart shatters. “How are you this kind?” she wonders aloud.

Silver Wolf thinks you’re the coolest person alive. You're like a legendary NPC who's got all the endgame gear and loves cats. She’ll pretend she’s too aloof to care—but she brings tech problems to you just to see you solve them... and then secretly watches you smile when the kid(s) cuddles up to you.

Fu Xuan wouldn’t know how to process you at first. “You're handling experimental dark matter with your bare hands. Have you lost your mind?” But then she sees you letting Yanqing/Yunli nap in your arms, humming softly. Suddenly, she's so quiet, watching with big eyes and a confused heart.

Dan Heng would find something deeply sacred about it. To wield so much knowledge—almost divine—and yet choose to be soft, to hold a child instead of ruling? It would resonate with him. He’d stay near you more often, just to be reminded that strength can look like gentleness too.

SAGAU

In the Genshin universe, the "mad scientist" creator is basically a holy being with forbidden wisdom. The moment the characters realize that your mind contains formulas beyond Teyvat’s comprehension—but your hands hold children like they’re made of glass? Reverence turns to devotion.

Albedo would be enraptured. You're like a living philosopher stone—terrifying intellect wrapped in mystery, but with a heart that sings to children. He’d spend hours in your presence, asking questions about your methods while quietly watching Sayu breathe peacefully in your arms.

Klee would adore you. And you? You'd let her draw on your blueprints, hand her a child-safe version of your tools, and gently praise her creativity. Everyone in Mondstadt would melt.

Lisa would lowkey flirt with you harder. “A mind like yours, my dear… and such tenderness too? You’re positively sinful.” She'd be so intrigued by the juxtaposition that she'd start studying you like a spell she can't quite decipher.

Ei would feel... compelled. To be both brilliant and soft? She’d admire it—envy it, maybe. She sees herself in your ambition, but your gentleness is something she lost long ago. It would draw her toward you like a moth to flame.

Sayu? Oh, she’d adore you. You never force her to wake up. You just let her stay there, hand gently stroking her hair, whispering theories to yourself that even Sumeru’s sages would faint over. You’re her safe place and the scariest genius alive.

And the overall vibe?

You're the Creator who can dismantle a quantum engine mid-nap, build something new with stardust and scrap, and then pause everything because a child rubbed their eyes and needed cuddles.

To the characters in both universes, you aren’t just a god. You’re a guardian. A protector with a mind like a burning sun, but hands that only ever tighten when they’re holding someone close. And that is more divine than any miracle they've ever seen.