#you asked for it folks! and here it is :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny finally meets FNAF tape girl in person...

[lil-lemon-snails]

decided to draw some of your guys' tags from my harlequin sun and moon post!!! These guys are so much fun and you're all so funny >w<

[bulbabutt]

the year is 2003, you live in the sewers with your brothers, your dad is a literal rat, so you don't have access to a specific kind of language to understand your feelings, but what you do have is star trek. so lets just figure it out from there?

03 mikey is just so..... gender, yknow?

turtle trek series (chrono)

[reksink]

Beloved Residents of Dirtmouth (And Quirrel 👍)

[rocketbirdie]

YOU. You are correct about Cloud Strife. Everything you say about him is CORRECT

Hi I'm going to use your ask as an opportunity to go on an unhinged tangent about him below the cut.

I believe that EVERYTHING about Cloud Strife as a character makes total sense once you realize: it's autism.

Here's a character whose entire arc revolves around the erosion of his identity and his desperate attempts to adhere to an ideal image, at the expense of his own wellbeing; and how self acceptance is the thing that brings him back from the edge of despair.

Youtube theorycrafters waste hours of their lives trying to piece together Cloud's psyche, when the answer is just... autism. It really is that simple. I will die on this goddamn hill.

In Trace of Two Pasts, we learn that even as a toddler, Cloud really was just... like that. Unemotive and awkward. And the entire lifestream sequence in the OG shows us a young Cloud who behaves in baffling ways. Tifa and her friends invited Cloud into their group, but he rejected their friendship while simultaneously harboring a seething jealousy. How the heck does that work, huh?

Viewing this through the Autism Lens™️, his approach make way more sense. Fearing his own inability to read and reciprocate their intentions, he pushes them away, and the resulting loneliness crushes him. He mistakes that loneliness for anger. He turns that anger outwards and gets into fights. Because the other kids don't understand him, Cloud sees them as stupid and immature. It's the perfect recipe for disastrous distrust. The tragic result is that, when Tifa gets into her accident, Cloud is immediately blamed by kids AND adults. He's seen as inherently dangerous and unpredictable, even though he did nothing wrong. It's like they were already looking for the perfect excuse to hate him.

The worst part is, because he struggles to articulate his own thoughts and feelings, he starts to just... accept what other people say about him. He's a pain in the ass. He's a selfish brat. He could try being a bit nicer. Any attempt that he makes to argue, backfires and proves their points even more. He's being childish. He needs to get his shit together. Nothing's ever good enough for him. He stops fighting it and lets people drag him around and violate his boundaries, because no matter how loud he yells or how intelligently he argues, nothing he says ever reaches their ears. He trims away more and more of himself to try and appease others and nurse the constant emotional pain. (And that's not even addressing the entire traumatic *waves hands* everything that he's gone through by the time he reaches Midgar! That would have to be its own tangent lol.)

It's hard to watch as a player; the secondhand embarrassment of Cloud's social blunders is immense. Some people don't like Cloud as a video game protagonist, which is perfectly valid. But a lot of times, they justify their opinion by perpetuating the same damaging language. He's an asshole, he's a weirdo, he hates people. The irony would be hilarious if it wasn't so frustrating. I know Cloud is just a fictional character, he doesn't need to be defended from harsh criticisms. But I can't help but wonder what these players think about the "weird people-hating assholes" that they meet in real life.

It also makes me wonder if they were even paying attention. I think the games make it pretty damn obvious what's going on. He's an asshole because other characters treat him like one before they even get to know him. He hates people because he doesn't understand them, and they don't even try to understand him. He's a weirdo because he has a strange way of showing how deeply he loves and cares, and he's afraid that his love will be misinterpreted like every other emotion he's ever dared to show.

The autism is everywhere. It permeates his entire being. It's in his silly responses when he takes things too literally. It's in his painfully practical way with words. It's in the stiff expressionless look and the flat tone of voice. It's in him constantly adjusting his gloves, shifting his weight, looking down at his feet. It's in his questionable idea of what you're supposed to do with your body at a yoga session. It's in the half a dozen flustered high fives, it's in the motion sickness. It's in the contagious eagerness with his special interests in SOLDIER and materia and chocobos.

It's in the moments where the facade crumbles and we get to see the real Cloud, the one that Aerith knew was in there— the one that Tifa finds in the lifestream— the one that Zack gave his life for— the Cloud that cherishes the whole world. He's got so much of everything inside of his heart, and he doesn't know how to get it out. You'd be a weird asshole about it, too.

[paintpanic]

Calculating probability of survival... It doesn't look good.

[nocasdatsgay]

So Where Do I Start?

Pairing: Eris x F-Reader | Rating: E 🌶️| Eris POV

Word count: 2256 | one-shot | Read on Ao3

Summary: You aren’t fully comfortable with your post baby body and Eris is not having it.

CW: an off screen baby, post baby body, insecurities, sex

A/N: I’ve never had a baby but I do have body issues 😂 there is also a part where Eris thinks about how much he basically missed the intimacy- don’t misconstrue it as him needing sex. I worried when I wrote that. If enough ppl like it I’ll post it on ao3 🫣 I put it on ao3

No tag list for this one cause I don’t want to subject ppl to baby content if they don’t want it 🫣

Eris had been flirting with you all day. You’d asked around lunch what had gotten into him and honestly he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it was the fact you’d both gotten decent sleep, your babe finally being at a point where they could sleep through the night. Maybe it was the fact things had slowed down for him, having finally caught up with paperwork and meetings now that he’d returned to focusing on high lord duties after the weeks spent helping with the baby.

Or maybe he just loved you. Which was nothing new.

Of course when you both got into bed, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Soft kisses deepened and he pushed up your nightshirt, determined to pull it off but you shoved at his hand. He pulled away immediately, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Gods, it felt like it might kill him but he’d do it.

“No.” You didn’t look him in the eyes. “I just, I don’t want,” your voice trailed.

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Your gaze met his. You frowned at him. He frowned back. He tried to think of what was bothering you. It had been a few months. Recovery from birth was one of the longer healing processes even in high fae. It was highly possible you weren’t ready despite Edith stating you’d healed up perfectly a month ago. Just because you were cleared didn’t mean you were ready.

“I can wait,” he added. “I am more than happy just keep kissing you.”

“No.” Your eyes widened. “No, I want you. I do. I just. Maybe just leave my shirt on?”

He frowned again. “My love, we talked about this.”

And you both had. He noticed immediately when you started staring too long in the mirror and when you changed up your style of clothing. It took him weeks to convince you to bath with him again, to let him see you fully nude in a neutral setting.

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is it different?” He chuckled and you pouted at him. He sent his love through the bond hoping you’d forgive him for laughing.

“What if- I just don’t think I can handle it if, you know.” You bit your lip and looked away.

“If what?”

“If you- gods Eris you’re such an ass, don’t make me say it.” He grinned at you and it only flustered you more. “What if I kill your mood?”

He blinked, his own eyebrows raised up. “As if you haven’t smacked me several times already in the past month because I have gotten handsy in the bath.”

“That was different,” you protested. “You were just playing.”

He let his voice drop low and put his hand back on your shirt when he replied. “I never play with how much I want you.” He could smell your arousal spike back up. He made sure to lower hand and trace his fingers on your thigh. “Let me show you. If you still don’t believe me then we’ll stop and I’ll go to sleep in the study. Do we have a deal, my fire?”

“Gods you don’t play fair,” you said breathlessly.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He’d already distracted you enough to get his hand farther up your thigh, the shirt inching up with it. He reached your hip, his fingers running over your infernal underwear.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking a finger on the band.

“I don’t know. Can you?” You smarted back.

He looked you straight in the eyes when he replied, “I can and I will.” Then he set your underwear on fire, ensuring it only burned the fabric away and not your skin.

“Eris!” You yelled and pushed up the bed in shock.

“Hush, you’ll wake the baby, love,” he chuckled and used his magic to clear away the ash.

“You set my underwear on fire.” You hissed.

“I did. And I’m about to set that shirt aflame as well if you don’t let me take it off you.” He grinned.

“Fine. But if you can’t get it up, I am cutting your cock off and stuffing it down your throat. Then I’m murdering you.” You hissed and tugged up the nightshirt to pull it over your head.

“I love it when you're feisty.” He purred, his eyes immediately wandering down your body as you tossed the shirt off to the floor. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Start?”

You tried to cover yourself but he was not having it. He crawled over you, grabbing and pinning your arms by your head. He watched in real time your pupils dilate, your eyes going near black.

“I said I would show you how much I want you,” he leaned in and brushed his nose against your own. “So where do I start?”

For once he’d rendered you speechless. Good. He didn’t need you arguing with him when your opinions were clearly wrong. Especially when he let you go and sat up to look you over again. The mother truly blessed him by putting you in his path. He made sure to push that down the bond and smirked at your cheeks darkening.

“I know these are the babe’s favorites.” He whispered. He traced a finger around your breast. “It’s wrong of me to say this but I do enjoy it when you pull my hands up your top.”

“Eris,” you hissed.

“It’s true.” He grinned. “You get my warm hands pressed against your sore breasts and I get to hold you.” You blinked at that confession. “My mate, did you think I had nefarious reasons?”

“I thought you just liked to touch my breasts.”

He shrugged, “what is that phrase my brothers keep spewing when they cheat at cards? A win is in fact still a win?”

You rolled your eyes. He continued moving his finger down your sternum and traced around your stomach. You frowned.

“Despite how you feel, I do love how soft you are now.” His fingers moved around to your side and traced your hip. “And how wide your hips are now.”

“I don’t. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was expensive.”

You then yelped and jolted as he moved over you, putting one leg between your thighs to wedge him apart.

“As if I care about the cost. These hips carried our baby.”

He leaned in and kissed the valley between your breasts. His left hand cupped your right breast when he kissed down your chest again. He could feel you relax under him and grinned against your stomach. He maneuvered himself so he could switch and cup your other one against his heated palm.

“I swear that’s all you're good for,” you teased, placing your hand on top of his. “Male hot stone.”

He slid down further and nipped his teeth at the skin above your belly button and he felt you tense again. He knew you hated how soft your stomach was and how the skin there was still recovering from being stretched to accommodate your child. He’d spend the rest of his life convincing you it was a blessing if he had to. Because it was.

“This beautiful belly of yours,” he kissed your stomach, “made our perfect babe. That was all you, my fire.”

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced.

Eris knew it would take time. Even if he was impatient, he wouldn’t argue with you. He learned a long time ago that only made you stand firm in your thoughts. Instead he pressed more open mouth kisses along your stomach, pulling his hands away to loop his arms under your thighs. He didn’t miss the way you gasped or how your scent sweetened. He definitely didn’t miss the humming want you were pushing in through the bond. He rolled his hips into the bed like a fuckin youth just to relieve his own tension.

He wasted no more time, eager to get his mouth between your legs. He pulled your legs apart and peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs. You were still tense; something he had not encountered since the first time you were together. Despite your apprehension, you were still wet for him. He tried not to be smug as he put his mouth on you and your body relaxed in his hold.

He moaned as he licked up your center, your taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way. It was almost muscle memory, his tongue moving against your already swollen nub in a way that had you grabbing him by his hair. And by the cauldron, did he miss your hands in his hair.

Eris had planned to take his time. Take you apart slowly and remind you how much he loved you. Your body had other plans. You rolled your hips against his face, and he sucked and licked harder. He didn’t even get his fingers in you before you moaned and arched on the bed.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you came, panting and yanking his hair as he worked you through it. You had enough when you pulled him up.

He laughed. “That’s a record.”

“Is it?” You were still gasping.

“You really know how to stroke a male’s ego.” He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should take breaks more often.”

“Insufferable.” You muttered.

“I’m about to be even more insufferable,” he said with a sly tone.

He made certain you were looking when he rolled his pants down, his length springing free and curving up on his stomach.

“Still doubt me?” He smirked and stroked himself.

You groaned. “Fine, I believe you.” Despite your tone you gave him a loving look. “Now hush and come fuck me.”

Eris kicked off his pants and crawled over you. There were no words exchanged as your legs fell open and he seemed to settle in place with ease. You gasped when he reached in between you both to guide himself into your slick heat. He groaned almost too loud when he bottomed out into you and stilled.

By The Mother he missed this. Being so close to you; being physically connected to you. The bond between you both tight, filled with love and passion. He laid there for a moment to savor it. He kissed you deeply and used his hand to bring your leg up farther on his waist.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead to yours. “I swear I’d put another baby in you right now if Edith wouldn’t kill me.”

“I think I would kill you.” Your tone was amused rather than annoyed, thankfully.

“And what sweet death it would be,” he muttered.

He kissed you again and propped himself up on one of his arms. The shift alone felt like lightning shooting up his spine. He realized at that moment he shouldn’t have laughed at you for coming apart so quickly. Eris groaned and cursed when he rocked his hips.

“Know how to stroke a female’s ego.” Your laughter faded into a moan; Eris thrusted into you a little harder.

You were both mostly silent after that. Eris’s mouth was preoccupied with kissing every inch of your face and chest he could reach. You were biting your lip when he wasn’t kissing you so you wouldn’t get vocal and wake the baby. He could feel you plateau through the bond, both of you just enjoying the feeling of being together in this way again.

He finally moved up and put your leg up over his shoulder to let him dive into you harder. You sighed and he felt your pleasure spike through the bond. He tried to not be smug about it. He reached his hand between you and rubbed his thumb gently in time with his thrusts. He grinned at how you mewled.

“Can you come for me again, love?” You nodded. He was close himself, his breathing haggard. “Will you do that for me? Come with me.”

It took a few moments before you arched off the bed again and flooded the bond with your pleasure. He groaned coming right behind you, but not stopping until you stopped pulsing around him. He dropped your leg and damn near collapsed on top of you.

Eris pushed himself off you with a groan, still catching his breath. “I think I need to start training again.”

“Overwork yourself?” You giggled “I think that’s just your age showing.”

Eris bit back a retort. After a moment he reluctantly moved off the bed and muttered he would get you a towel. Sleepiness was creeping into his bones while he cleaned himself off and wet a hand towel for you. He grabbed his pants off the floor where he tossed them and before he returned to bed, he peered into the nursery. Your babe was still fast asleep.

It seemed you were also sleepy when he crept up to the bed and saw your eyes closed. He made sure to heat the towel with his hand before maneuvering it between your legs and cleaning up the mess he made. You inhaled sharply but only blinked at him. He incinerated it once he was done.

“You’re so dramatic,” you grumbled at him.

“But you love me,” he said and leaned in and kissed you again before crawling into bed.

“That I do,” you muttered and scooted over to him so you could cuddle until you both fell asleep.

[royalarchivist]

Quackity: Lately, I have been participating in events and projects, and unfortunately it's become clear to me that my presence and name have only been used to attract the attention of my national and international community with the objective, as I see it, of generating more attention towards controversies - destructive controversies, and a rupture that is very clear in the community. [...] In advance, I ask the organizers of any type of events and projects like this to please show more respect to me and my community, because I've shown lots of sympathy and cooperation in these various projects and events, but it's become clear to me that their only interest is in using my name. My name and my community have been used to attract all this attention for distorted purposes, and I will no longer allow that to happen. That is not what my content is about - not me nor my content nor anything I’ve done.

Here's Quackity's commentary on respect and his reasoning for distancing himself and his projects from future events and awards shows.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

-

Quackity: Before I leave, I would like to talk about something that is very serious for me and something that I would like to tell you about. Because for me it is a very serious topic and it is a topic that- well, I had my mind on and I want to express it- [reading Chat] yes, thank you. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas.

Anyways, lately I have been participating in events and projects, and in these events and projects, unfortunately it's become clear to me that my presence and name have only been used to attract the attention of my national and international community with the objective, as I see it, of generating more attention towards controversies - destructive controversies, and a rupture that is very clear in the community, and this is what I want to say: I'm NOT ok with these types of dynamics or stuff like this, and I want to make it very clear to my stream, my community, and everyone that, for this exact reason that I just mentioned, I want to make it clear that I want to distance myself and any of my projects from the Esland Awards, which you all know is coming up.

Sadly, the Esland Awards have been an event with a history of much controversy, a lot of division, and a lot of divisions within the community, and as you guys know, as you know, my content has never been characterized by seeking controversy or divisions or anything like that. It's for this exact reason that I don't want to be involved with these awards.

In advance, I ask the organizers of any type of events and projects like this to please show more respect to me and my community, because I've shown lots of sympathy and cooperation in these various projects and events, but it's become clear to me that their only interest is in using my name. My name and my community have been used to attract all this attention for distorted purposes, and I will no longer allow that to happen. I don't want it to happen. That is not what my content is about - not me nor my content nor anything I've done. That's what I want to make very clear here.

That's about it. I'm going to continue with the projects I'm doing and I want to thank my community so much for the support and love. I appreciate it very much, but I wanted to make this clear - I wanted to make this clear. This is just a topic I wanted to address quickly.

Thank you for all the love and support, I love you all so much.

[ale-cart]

Gleestuck dirkjohn?? Pretty please with a cherry on top

I am so sorry for this being so late :')

And then John rambled on about how dirk should join glee and dirk nodded with a thumbs up. He didn't even know what he agreed to until John was dragging him to glee club the next day.

[spotofmummery]

[sophsun1]

Queer as Folk – 3.14: The Election

[starflungwaddledee]

Why so stressed Star?

Nothing bad has happened because you had a strange dream, even if it was prophetic, what difference does it make?

You have your friends and surely the people you meet at the tournament would help you in case something bad happened, you are still you and its ok! :D

starstruck gained a staggering +20 emotional stability. she always finds her heroes among the stars << prev || [masterpost] || next >>

additional asks by @bluohoshizora and @drawscutestuff ! thanks so much!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[askthestans]

Stanford, in a previous post you said you’ve ate way worse in the portal. May I ask what things you have ate that could’ve been horrible compared to the gorgon and eel meatloaf?

Ford: Having been drinking some Mabel Juice, he spits it out and coughs. Ford wipes his mouth properly on a napkin - unlike Stan who is sitting across the table just wiping his mouth on his sleeve while eating some fried chicken - and chuckles nervously.

Ah, well... that's... a fascinating question, Anon. Let's see... the weirdest thing I've eaten...

Ford gets a thousand yard stare of what must be decades of strange experiences, his eye occasionally twitching, looking a bit nauseous at some of the memories. Whatever he's remembering, it sure isn't anything Michelin 5 star. Or 1 star. Er... or 'questionable origin gas station sushi in the most disgusting reaches of the Multiverse' level edible, for that matter.

Realizing he's taking too long to answer, he chuckles nervously again.

Apologies, it's just... there were so many culinary delights that I-

Stan: He spits out a bone from the chicken he's eating and, looking quite unimpressed, he answers for Ford. Well, there's the time he ate a literal planet. Oh, or the time he had to eat the thousands of years dead corpses of some aliens where the only thing left on 'em by that point was their, er... "bottom" ends. Somethin' about bein' made of different stuff than us that makes 'em decompose slower, he said. He shrugs. Said it tasted like roasted dust and, well... ass, go figure. But that's not even the worst thing he told me. Because one time-

Ford: Looking rather pissed and embarrassed. Stan, we probably should just leave it at that. It was pure survival, nothing more. There was nothing else in that dimension for me to eat.

Stan: With a grin. Oh, you're sayin' I shouldn't talk about the "secretions" meal you had once?

Ford: Yes! That's precisely what we shouldn't talk about!

There's a long pause, where Ford looks ready to slaughter someone, and Stan is just smirking and chewing on his chicken without a care in the world. Then he shrugs and blurts it.

Stan: Long story short, it involved Ford, some starvation, and some fresh - what he called - "secretions" from-

Ford: Getting up from the table and ready to lunge. Can it, Stan! I was desperate! I'd have starved had I not-

Stan: He interrupts. What's that? He turns the camera of the laptop towards Ford's face. Is that a shit-eating grin I see on your face, Sixer?

It is definitely not a shit-eating grin. It's an "I'm going to turn my brother into taxidermy" one. At that, Ford actually lunges, and Stan cackles as he gets up and starts running with the laptop in hand, finishing his reply over the video.

Ha! I'm gonna tell 'em all your secrets, and you can't stop me!

Ford: IT WAS EDIBLE IN THAT DIMENSION, IT WAS NOT SHIT, AND I WAS STARVING!

Stan: Oh really? It came from the ass-end of somethin' weird. Sounds like shit to me!

Ford: SECRETIONS, Stanley! Like milk from cows!

Stan: What!? How is alien ass-udder juice any better!?

The view on the laptop from here on out is a mix of Stan cackling, Ford looking about ready to kill Stan, all set in a wobble of the camera bouncing as Stan runs with Ford in close pursuit behind him.

Stan: HE SAID HE LIKED IT, TOO! Ford: Incoherent rage noises.

[viperwhispered]

I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for always being around to chat since I don't have many to talk to about TWST. I also suck at characterization so I don't write many fics. But I was very happy when you used one of our discussions for Revel in You. I don't mind if you use our convos to write, just be sure to credit the source.

On that note: saw your smut posts. Here's an idea: Jamil celebrating his promotion to being a Housewarden.

It's Friday, there's an enormous party going on to celebrate Jamil and Kalim's new roles and the successes of the first month with this new dynamic. While Jamil is more accustomed to the spotlight, he still gets "tired out" and leaves it to Kalim to keep the party going and organize the clean up crew. After all, he's due for a more private celebration of his own.

Fun fact: for a good chunk of snake species, the male will bite the females neck to hold them down while mating.

Imagine Jamil relentlessly taking his beloved from behind, deciding they're wriggling a bit too much. Delighting in the sounds they make as he pulls them towards him by the hair, he just bites the back of their neck as his body pins them to the bed. They'll probably be annoyed by morning, but Jamil's already got some concealers beforehand.

Did I forget to mention it's a Friday, Jamil no longer has roomates, and pretty much the entire dorm is still partying to loud music several hallways away?

Also worth mentioning that, as a healthy mature couple, all of Jamil's jealousy and possessiveness is addressed in a healthy manner so the relationship never turns toxic. This statement does not apply to the bedroom.

Aww thank you, always happy to talk with you too 😊 Plus like, if you’d rather talk over messages sometime in addition to the asks, feel free. (And this applies to anyone else reading this post too.)

Yeah iirc I was thinking a bit if I should ask you about using that ask as a jumping off point for To Revel in You, but I figured I was using it more as inspiration rather than rewriting anything you wrote or anything like that. And that since you sent that ask in the first place, I did kinda assume it would be okay to build off it. But good to hear I wasn’t wrong in thinking so, and glad you liked it.

As for characterization & writing: it really is a matter of practice, I’d say. Plus, like, everyone is bound to interpret the characters in a different way, or focus on different aspects of them. Which can be freeing, in a way, knowing that you can bring to the table something that no one else can, certainly not in the same exact way you would.

Also I was actually thinking of asking for some writing prompts since the current wip seems to need a bit more time to marinate, and here you are with perfect timing.

So let’s see what I can do with this concept.

If it wasn’t obvious: smut ahead. Written with fem / afab reader in mind but I think this could be read gender neutral as well since the only specific body detail mentioned is that reader has hair long enough for Jamil to grab.

The day - and the week, and the month - had been such a whirlwind that even Jamil had had trouble keeping up with it all.

Tonight, Jamil had basked in the praises from his dormmates, their congratulations and glowing words - and noted the cautious looks of those who still had not forgotten the events of his overblot.

He had enjoyed food that was not made by him, watched others fuss over the preparations and the serving - well, as much as he had been able to keep himself from giving direction. Still, even he had not been able to oversee every single detail, as much as he wanted to.

After all, both you and Kalim had been quite insistent, in your own ways, that this celebration should be for him, not by him.

So Jamil had danced, eaten, drank, listened, talked, so much so that now when the night was beginning to turn towards morning, he had more than had his fill.

Besides, tired as he may be of the crowd, there was still something on his agenda that he was more than happy to indulge in.

You had been teasing him with promises of a more private celebration - starting from when the party was decided on all the way to when you had been dancing together earlier - and Jamil intended to finally collect his reward.

You were outside for a moment of fresh air and quiet when Jamil found you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nipping your ear.

“I remember someone promising to be mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low and husky.

You shivered, feeling Jamil’s lips on your neck. You’d half expected him to be too tired to turn your teasing into action. Yet, you certainly welcomed this turn of events, your own tiredness washed away by Jamil’s eager touch and his tempting whispers.

“You know me. Always love - ahhh - spoiling you,” you said - your words turning into a gasp when Jamil licked the side of your neck.

In no time at all you found yourself in Jamil’s room - as easy as it was to be distracted by each other, you both still preferred the privacy over lingering in the common areas of the dorm.

Jamil’s mouth was hungry on yours, his hands working quickly to rid you of your clothes.

Sometimes you wondered just how much Jamil was holding back in the presence of others, for him to get so ravenous as soon as you two were alone.

Not that you were any different, pulling away that long belt from Jamil’s hips so that you could slip your hands under his shirt, your lips covering every available bit of his skin with kisses.

It was always delicious, your naked bodies tangled together. That heady feeling of each other, both of you grasping and kissing wherever you could, like you could never quite feel enough of the other.

“So what would mister housewarden ask of me tonight?” you asked with a playful grin, nuzzling your nose against Jamil’s.

There was undeniable hunger in the way Jamil looked at you, yet also the warmth and softness of your lover that always filled your heart to the brim.

“Just all of you, albi,” Jamil murmured, pushing you down onto the mattress.

You’d entertained ideas of a celebratory blowjob, of taking care of Jamil tonight. But if he’d rather help himself to you, you were certainly not going to say no.

A few orgasms later and Jamil was pounding into you, firmly holding onto your hips while your face was pressed onto the sheets. His cock was invading your insides so hard, so deep, leaving you nearly senseless. You jolted helplessly every time Jamil slammed his way all the way in, the pleasure bordering on pain as it shot through your nerves.

“Ahhh, Jamil…” you whimpered, barely aware of the spot of drool you’d left on the bed.

“Too much?” Jamil muttered, one of his hands leaving your side to instead trail a soothing path along your spine.

“...No.”

It was a lot, your senses nearly overtaken by the intensity of it all - yet you didn’t want anything less.

Still, you couldn’t help squirming, your body twitching with every thrust, yelps and moans pushed from your throat no matter how much you tried to hold them in.

“Hold still,” Jamil grunted. 

He gathered your hair in his hand, making you gasp when he tugged. You could feel the pull on your scalp, almost like Jamil wanted to rein you in - or pull your face away from the sheets so that he could hear your cries more clearly.

“You’re all mine tonight, aren’t you? Mine to have, mine to enjoy,” Jamil breathed to your ear.

“Yes, yes, yes…” you whined, aroused beyond belief.

Always his, just as he is yours - but you had no time to vocalize that thought before Jamil’s weight pushed you prone on the bed.

Your gasp was cut short, turned into a sharp cry when you felt moist pressure at the back of your neck - a bite, you realized, some instinct telling you to keep still.

Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. Jamil’s hand, still gripping your hair. His mouth, latched onto your skin. His body, holding you down.

The weight of him against your back was almost suffocating, yet in a delicious way. Like you could be closer to him like this, more connected than just skin to skin contact - or penetration - could provide.

You could feel the rolling of Jamil’s hips against your backside, the way his cock was dragging along your insides. Not as harshly as before, yet intense enough to keep you trembling and whining with the little breath you could take.

And Jamil’s mouth, his teeth, never letting go. His muffled groans such a delicious sound, making you clench around him.

Such sweet torture, and you never wanted it to end.

Taglist since this turned into fic: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @perilous-pasta @twstgo @cannedpickledpeaches

[whatwooshkai]

Final stretch! 25 please!!

"Why do you guys all look so different?" Frankie asks, hands on her hips as she stares at the family photo.

Cody shrugs. "That's just how siblings look."

"No," Frankie says, crossing her arms. "It's not. Siblings look like each other. Siblings don't each have a different eye color!"

"That's-" Cody's shoulders rise to his ears. He feels oddly defensive about this, but his siblings are all his siblings! "That doesn't make us not siblings!"

"That's not what I'm saying," Frankie says gently, and her hands go back on her hips. "I'm saying I think at least three of you are adopted."

"I'm not adopted," Cody snaps.

"I think you're the only one who isn't," Frankie replies, cool and calm despite Cody's aggression. "Remember that time you got turned into an adult? You looked exactly like him! Everyone else, though..." she trails off with an abstract gesture of her hands, and Cody takes a second to consider her point.

She's... she's kind of right. He really looks nothing like his siblings. None of them even have blond hair!

Cody taps his fingers together. "You might have a point," he concedes. "I'll ask my dad."

"Good." Frankie grins and punches his shoulder. "Make sure to tell me what he says, okay?"

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

"Is Kade adopted?"

"Am I what?"

Cody decides to pop the question at dinner, just in case his dad tries to dodge it. After a little more talking with Frankie, they'd decided the best way to frame it would be to ask if Kade's adopted, what with the flaming red hair and all.

Graham briefly chokes on his food and Dani starts laughing, but Dad puts his fork down and sighs.

"Oh, I figured this would come up eventually," he mutters, while Kade is spluttering. Dad slaps Graham on the back, who's hacking up a lung now.

"I'm not adopted," Kade finally settles on, seeming more offended than anything. "Dad, tell him I'm not adopted."

"None of you are adopted," Dad assures him, then addresses the table. "But even if you were, that wouldn't make you any less of a part of this family."

"Then why do we all look so different?" Cody asks.

"Well..." his dad taps the tips of his fingers together. "You all have different moms."

"Knew it," Graham mutters, but Dani's jaw nearly hits the floor.

"Really?" she asks, then starts rapidly pointing between her and Kade. "We don't-?"

"No." Dad sighs heavily. "But you're all my kids."

"Now that that's out of the way," Kade says loudly, dropping his chin into his hand, "I've been meaning to ask this for ages. Are there any more of us?"

"No!" Dad snaps, clearly offended. "My own children think so little of me," he drawls, actual annoyance melting into a teasing tone. "Do you really think your own father a-" he stops suddenly, gaze drifting to Cody. "A- uh... would I lie to you?"

"Yes!" Dani pipes up, crossing her arms. "I thought Kade and I were full-blooded siblings this whole time and you never bothered to correct me?"

Dad shrugs. "You never asked. I didn't want to upset you. Which I clearly have."

Dani splutters again, then sinks back into her seat, muttering.

"I've always had a hunch," Graham says, voice still a little hoarse. "Like, look at us. There's no way."

"I do find it funny, sort of," Dad hums, picking up his fork again. "All these kids and only one of you ended up looking like me. Although," he says, nodding towards Kade, "to this day, I still have no idea where that hair of yours came from."

"Maybe you are adopted," Dani teases, and Kade kicks her chair out from under her.

Cody settles back into this chair and goes back to eating while his siblings argue.

It feels nice to know that even though he knows the truth now, nothing's really changed at all.