#twinning in hell

[silverstarr]

Dude you're in 11th? Same!!!

Unfortunately yess 😔😔

(Who are you pls tell me I don't bite [unless you consent] why am I surrounded by anons rn I'll srsly crash out 😭🔪🔪)

[akanemnon]

Told ya they should've come up a plan B

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[cyphertronix]

happy hauntings

(the ghost stans au)

[snail-shell2335]

he thought being promoted to frater imperator was for ONE day only. he MAD!!!

[drusclues]

One of my favourite things about Sinners is the use of colour to symbolize belonging and home vs assimilation or separation from self and the environment.

When Annie is in her home, connected to her ancestors by practicing Hoodoo and speaking Yoruba to the man she loves , her skin tone blends into the earthy, natural tones of her home. Who she is, is not at odds with her environment . She even wears the same deep blue as Smoke

When Sammie is singing the blues, filled with passion and surrounded by the love and joy of his community, his shirt matches the warm yellow glow of the lights in the Juke Joint. He fits in perfectly and effortlessly

Delta Slim is the embodiment of The Blues, every part of him is harmonious with the dark brown walls of the Juke Joint

In contrast, the church walls and the clothing of the congregation reflect the assimilating influence of whiteness to the land and people, the false binary of black and white. The pop of green of the wild, natural world beyond the stark walls stands out as a symbol of freedom and untamed passion. There is no warmth or vibrancy in this place that demands Sammie give up his music, his voice, his culture.

And this split dividing the twins is interesting to me. Stack shown with the open air behind him, foreshadowing his eventual escape and freedom from the Jim Crow South. His red hat, tie and car reflecting the blood spilled and his vampirism as the only means he has for leaving this world of division.

Then Smoke on the right is shown contained within the Juke Joint, his home and his metaphorical casket as this will be his final resting place with Annie. His blue hat and shirt are symbolic of the sky/spirit world where he will spend eternity, unnaturally separated from his brother

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

My Great Grandma who loved her babies very much

Reference that I used for the face!

[spicypiscesssss]

I just love me some Smoke. Love a grown ass, silent ass, confident ass man. Something about a man that doesn’t gotta say SHIT for everyone to know he’s in the room. A man who means what tf he says. He said FAWK all that talk, I’m bout that action 😫 Also a man that LOVES black women 🫦 It’s always gon be Smoke fah me!

[knightofgoetia]

still thinking about how Dante looked like in V's mind VS how he actually looked like in those same memories.

[sentrylightz]

Your honor the twins are twinning again

[artsymeeshee]

A quick idea I had to sketch out because sometimes I think about how Ford still views himself as a bad brother sometimes but Stan’s there for the very needed reassurance that Ford is a good brother and Stan can see how Ford is trying every day

[dannnyghost]

Drew one of my favorite scenes in O Brother god they make me cry

And various other doodles

[thereweredragonshere]

Not a fucking clue what possessed me to draw this but please feel free to ask High Hiccup Haddock any questions 😭

[orbitalpython]

It's not like it mattered anyway?

(1) >

Danny shouldn't have been surprised when his twin, brother, the heir came. He had never once been thought of as a brother by Damian the heir. Not when Danny helped him when a mission went south, not when Danny saved his butt not once, not twice but many, MANY times before. And definitely not when Damian the heir stabbed him in the chest confided to Danny. And what did he get out of it? Stabbed, betrayed, left to rot. At least the Fentons found him when they did. Before he'd thought he'd not make it very far.

Before. Heh... almost forgot back then. Back when Danny hadn't been Danny. Back when Danyal had been before Danny was there.

But not here. Not now. "Danyal! It's time to come home brother!" Honestly Danny shouldn't have been shocked, but he unfortunately was very shocked ™ upon Damian the heir showing up at his school. His home, his family HIS life was going to be uprooted. In front of countless civilians. So what did he do? Go invisible? Go with the heir? No that would be very stupid. Currently Danny isn't thinking as Danny, Danny is currently thinking as Danyal. And Danyal has a few tricks up his sleeve.

Best way to get the heck out of dodge? Smoke bomb and flash bang circle of course. And killing any assassins that might show up. Killing on his OWN terms.

Damian thought his brother long dead only for his face to appear again, again and again. Why hadn't he been dead? It would've been much easier for him to cope with Danyal dead. So Damian made a decision. Tell Father about Danyal and make Father give him the disappointed dad face™, the former. Or go get Danyal himself and explain later, the latter.

Damian soon found himself outside a high school, Casper high if the sign out in front had anything to say about it. 2:30PM time for dismissal. With students coming out in droves it would be impossible for any ordinary person to pick a face out of a crowd. Damian is not a ordinary person. "Danyal!" He shouted. "It's time to come home brother!" Honestly Damian was not expecting Danyal to flashbang him and several others and disappear in a cloud of smoke. Nor the dead assassins that weren't there before. Neither did he expect the NO written in blood on the school walls.

Now? Now it was a chase. Bats versus assassins. Family versus monsters. Him versus the first person that gave him unconditional love. HIM versus the one HE betrayed. Brother versus brother. Just like Cain and Abel.

Can't Damian do anything right? Just for once? Why did it have to go this way? He's actually sorry and he wants his brother back. Hopefully the excuse he made holds up.

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

I don’t entirely have the style down yet but dark choco is good practice

.

(Please do not use, trace, or repost my works anywhere without explicit permission from me thank you)

[mrmeepsmadmind]

this photo fucking kills me bcs it's smoke swearing in his mind

' if this goddamn pig shirks us or pulls up with armed whites, i'm raining hellfire in five seconds.' Always on Edge

&& then there's stack thinking

'im rollin THE BEST cigarette 😸😸😸 !!'

(says that abt all the cigs he gets to roll for smoke and or anyone, for that matter)

[emeritusemeritus]

Couldn’t, Shouldn’t. [Weasley Twins]

Title: Couldn’t, Shouldn’t.

Pairing: Fred x Reader {Established Relationship} + George Weasley x Reader.

Summary: It’s the ultimate taboo, the line in the sand you shouldn’t even acknowledge and yet, you can’t stop thinking about your boyfriend’s identical twin.

Warnings: SMUT. Taboo topics. Blowjobs, oral (M receiving) NO TWINCEST. Indecent thoughts, probably some swearing. Cock slut. Handjobs. Twins sharing a room. Cock drunk?

Word count: 1.4k

"Fuuuuuuck."

It's long and drawn out, the evidence of his pleasure, and way, way too loud.

"Sssssh!" You whisper through your smile, lips never breaking contact with the smooth skin of his cock. You feel him shift slightly and raise your eyes back to his, seeing him rub the palms of his hands across his face

You could stop, but you really, really don't want to. He looks gorgeous like this, magnificent even. The hard plains of his taught, manly body from the years of quidditch practices juxtaposed with the slightly softness of his belly, perhaps the evidence of minor over indulgence of his mother's cooking but who could blame him. He's perfect, and all yours.

You try to deny the smile that threatens to bloom across your face, your mouth too occupied and too full to really smile but if he looked back down at you there's no doubt he'd see true joy in your eyes. Your lips close around him, cheeks hollowing once more as you fight to take more of his length so that he hits the back of your throat. You suck hard, watching as his body recoils from the sensation before you slip your lips back down the length of him, keeping your suction firm until your lips reach his tip once again. You're playing with him, resting him, to see how much you can get away with before his naturally dominant nature takes over. You're rewarded with another deep groan, his breathing staggered and shaky, and most notably, increasingly audible.

Your tongue wraps around his tip from inside your mouth, blocking your teeth as your lips never leave his smooth skin. You lick across the small veins just below his tip, the sensitive spot you know could bring him to his knees if he weren't already entirely horizontal. Your own breathing is laboured, mainly because your mouth is too full to allow anything other than quick breaths through your nose. It's intoxicating.

You can see his stomach muscles contorting as you take him deep again, letting him really feel how deep you were taking him, his good girl.

He lets out a gasp that sounds suspiciously like a whine and you have to renew your efforts to stop smirking, feeling more empowered than ever at your hold over him.

He won't last much longer, you'd been teasing him for too long. Winding him tighter and tighter until he explodes, your game having been played perfectly and your prize earned.

You can see the way he's twitching, hardly able to catch his breath as your mouth works over him perfectly, knowing exactly what he needs but still denying him. His muscles are contorting and contracting involuntarily, his face scrunched into a vision of delicious agony, his full balls beginning to pull up almost threatening his release.

You pull back. His cock falls from between your lips as your hand delicately wraps around him at the base, the weight of his rock solid cock surprising you even now. He's vividly pink and swollen, his tip almost red out of need. You stick out your tongue, flattening it against the veiny underside and lick a strong stripe all the way from base to tip.

He lets out a noise that is a perfect mix between a groan and a whine, so distinctly unique to Fred, so passionate and so loud.

"There's no way a blowjob feel's that good."

A groggy voice says from across the room, sounding thick with sleep and so very deep.

You should be startled, horrified at being caught with your boyfriend's cock in your mouth and his pre-cum smeared all over your lips. You should feel the sinking weight in your gut at being caught and the shame that often followed. You shouldn't feel aroused. Despite logically knowing all of this, it does nothing to stop the way your core clenches at the voice or how it only prompts you to watch to suck Fred harder, to really give him a show.

Your eyes meet Fred's in the darkness, the moonlight pouring in from between the broken shutters illuminating the room only partially. Even in the semi-darkness you can read his expression, and he yours, the unspoken rule bending before your eyes. The taboo finally breached, a line in the sand being completely ignored.

It takes little more than a nod of Fred's head for you to move, a subtle gesture, to get off of your knees at the side of his bed where you were crouched. You miss his cock the second you move away, your mouth suddenly feeling empty and unfulfilled.

Did you have an oral fixation? Perhaps. How fun it would be to explore.

"You tell us mate," Fred says as he watches you creep around his bed and into the bed beside his. His voice is deep and thick, a hint of breathlessness and strain. 

You're welcomed into the unfamiliar bed, of course you are. So familiar and yet so foreign, it's an intoxicating mix. You want to kiss him, to compare and experiment. You'd always wondered how different they'd be; would George's slightly more crooked nose bump yours a little more? Mostly you'd wondered how different it would be if you were sat on his face, but you concede that it would have to remain an open question in your mind, at least for now.

He's slightly leaner than Fred, not exactly a secret to anyone who had ever looked closely between the pair like you had, their little differences so telling to those in the know. He's also a little longer.

He tastes completely different, a heady flavour that has you addicted in mere seconds, your lips never wanting to part from his silken flesh. Your lips glide across him so slowly and deliberately, memorising his shape and the way he reacts to your actions. You find your rhythm in no time at all, the one that has him gasping and groaning in a way that can only be described as absolutely sinful.

"Well?" You hear Fred ask. It nearly doubled your arousal hearing your boyfriend's voice, knowing that it was very much not your boyfriend's cock that your lips were stretching around. Your reminded anew of who's cock is lodged deep in your throat, who's precum had started to leak into your tongue.

"Fuuuuuuck," the breathless man beneath you pants, the groan so needy that your dripping core clenches once again around nothing. Given their reactions, maybe they weren't completely different.

To say you are surprised when you feel a hand on your shoulder is an understatement, almost choking on the slightly curved cock shoved deep in your throat. You pull away out of curiosity to see your boyfriend watching you with dark eyes and slightly parted lips.

His hand runs down the length of your arm and reaches for your hand, entwining your fingers before he slips both of your hands down towards his still very erect cock.

Almost instinctively, your other hand shifts to George's cock too, not wanting to be unjust. You stroke Fred just how he likes using your entwined hands, two sets of fingers wrapping around his cock as he manoeuvres you for his pleasure. You mimic the rhythm on Fred's cock and replicate it for the other figure who is watching with heavy lidded eyes, silent but desperate for the same treatment.

You're rewarded with the most gratuitous moan that's delivered in perfect synchronisation making you feel electrified. There's a brief moment when all sense of time and space falls away and all you can sense at the two men beside you, the two cocks so heavy and pulsing in your hands. You're hardly able to discern which voice belongs to which man, so similar and so different. All thought falls away as you slip into your own personalised subspace, their cock's gliding as one through your hands. You're addicted, hopelessly and thoroughly ruined by this entire experience, the delicious taboo and the danger it brings fuelling you like the purest form of adrenaline. You're torn between never wanting this to end and desperate to bring them both to their ends and taste their cum.

You're completely at their command though you know you hold all the power. You only hope that this is not the last time.

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