I dont even know if I have a job interview, I am so fucking tired.
Theyre really dragging their feet to tell me Im not gonna get the job.
Im just sitting here like. Do I even bother dressing up nice. Do I just go in a nice t shirt or do i go and put on a nice dress shirt.
Im so fucking tired man Im so fucking tired i just wanna lay down in a pool and let the crows take me.
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My Coronabeth Dominant Twin manifesto is simple and it's as follows: there's no way the twins could have planned for Canaan House.
John requesting new Lyctors wasn't something anyone in the Houses would've expected to happen in their lifetimes with any meaningful probability. This means that when the Tridentarii started the double necromancer ruse, they expected to carry on for life. It was an arrangement that benefited Corona vastly more than Ianthe.
What Ianthe got out of it, as far as we know: Corona would rule Ida, which she isn't keen on (as per NtN). But it also meant that Ianthe signed up for a life in her sister's shadow, with everyone regarding Corona as the perfect heir and Ianthe as the lame spare. Worse, for Ianthe, everyone believed Corona was the better flesh magician (as per As Yet Unsent). There's a lot more in for Corona in this arrangement and a lifetime of mild humiliation for Ianthe. As we see during the reveal in GtN, she was just dying to tell anyone that SHE is the necromantic genius of the pair, actually.
On their relationship with Babs: in GtN, Gideon notices that Babs obeys Ianthe's orders over Corona's. She also notices that Corona looks shocked about this — to me, this means that it's NOT something Coronabeth is used to. Pre-Canaan House, they are equals in their ruse. At Canaan House, it becomes obvious that if Ianthe ascends she'll leave Corona in the dust, and their relationship has to change. I don't think the way they act around each other from Canaan House onwards is at all representative of their relationship back on the Third, and I don't think Babs deferring to Ianthe over Corona is something that has happened often before, if at all.
There's the bit where Corona routinely threatened suicide to get her way since they were teenagers. In NtN she's doing it to save Camilla's life, but she reminisces fondly about it like it was something she did often to get her way, like it was a fun mind game they played with each other.
You've also got Ianthe calling Corona a bimbo and insulting her and whatever, and me arguing that Corona pulled the few strings doesn't make Ianthe good but as things stand I'm much more inclined to believe that, before Ianthe attained Lyctorhood, Corona was the one in charge — and I’m also firmly convinced that she’s using BoE for her own ends, and we’ll see her Fuck Shit Up in AtN.
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"What is it?" Eddie asks, dipping down to brush the tip of his nose against Steve's bicep.
"No," Steve shakes his head, hides his face between his shoulder and his pillow, "you'll laugh."
"I always laugh, Harrington." Eddie grins, bites the meat of Steve's arm playfully, "Bullying you is how I express my love."
Steve snorts out a laugh, rolls himself halfway up and yanks Eddie in to tuck under his chin before curling around him. "You must really love me."
Eddie noses along his jaw, kisses the underside, sticks out his tongue and licks it, "I really do." And he does. Obsessively. Who wouldn't? Steve is...perfect. But real, too. Sweet and kind. A little bitchy. Kind of an air head. Great ass. Hands that can make Eddie hard from across a room. And that side smile? Fuck. Yeah, he really does.
"Tell me," Eddie demands, pushing Steve over onto his back and grappling his hands until he's holding them down on the pillows next to Steve's head.
Steve's pupils dilate, his breath catches but he wrestles Eddie back over onto his back, flipping their positions again, "If you tempt me with that sweet ass of yours, Eds, I won't tell you." Then he sort of growls, dipping down to nibble up the column of Eddie's throat, pressing his hands into the pillows, tangling their fingers together as he slides his legs down and presses his hips into Eddie's.
Groaning and arching up into it, Eddie moans, "You're being distracting on purpose!"
Leaving a trail of wet lip prints, Steve kisses down Eddie's chest, whispers, "Am I?" into the warm skin there. Sinks his teeth in gently, makes Eddie pull a breath in sharp between his teeth as he writhes under Steve.
"Steeeve." Eddie whines. Then he almost gets the wind knocked out of him as Steve clamors up and flops down flat on his chest like damn golden retriever.
"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." Steve says, biting his own lip and looking down into Eddie's eyes. He's nervous so Eddie doesn't poke fun again, just waits, runs his hands up and down Steve's naked sides and along the waistband of his sweats. "I want to ...I want to go to college," He finally gets out, setting his jaw, determined. "I want to be a teacher."
Eddie smiles, big and bright because he's so proud that this is his guy, this is his person. This man who loves to help people. Who loves to protect them and make sure they feel loved. It's the perfect career choice. How did Eddie get so lucky?
He knows, though, that Steve doesn't do great with praise or adoration. That it makes him uncomfortable. That he needs to be teased, needs to fade into the background, be unassuming and unobserved. Unlike Eddie who kicks lunches off tables and proclaims himself a freak. So instead of gushing about what a great teacher Steve's gonna make, Eddie teases, "Do I get to call you Mr. Harrington during sex? Will this lead to sexy roleplay?"
Sighing, Steve rests his forehead on Eddie's like he's not totally turned on even though they can both feel just how much of a lie that is, "If, by sexy roleplay, you mean am I gonna make you write lines while I jerk off without you - then yes."
Eddie makes a strangled noise in his throat because, yeah, he's actually super into that, Mr. Harrington.
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{☆} characters arlecchino
{☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino
{☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints
"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."
The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.
"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."
The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.
"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"
Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.
"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.
She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.
Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.
"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.
How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.
She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.
She certainly wants to, and she intends to.
The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.
"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."
Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.
She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.
Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.
She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.
For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.
She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.
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