#OOPs 512

[kernelfield]

Biomineral Armor Now Disponible for Deployable Security

Utilizing the epicuticle that catalyzes biomineral nucleation and growth, we managed, In situ nanoindentation, to create a biomineral layer that significantly hardens the polyorganic exoskeleton.

PROS: Regrowing armour you can wear during shoot outs!

CONS:

THE ANTS WANTS TO WEAR YOU TOO

[lynxfrost13]

Happy 5/12! Have an elster

[biruesque]

look this way, commander falke!

[project-sekai-song-fight]

Why do I have extra songs nooooooo

[maiamore]

PASS THE SALT, MR MILLER

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak Rating: 18+ | W/C: 4.5k

Summary: Joel finds out the hard way that leaving a pretty girl with blue-balls isn’t the smartest.

Or, Joel fucks you in his garage.

Tags: christmas-y vibes, fucking on Joel’s car, implied age gap,unprotected p in v, grumpy!joel, lots of yearning, squirting, sexual games, brat taming, outdoor sex, creampie

A/N: merry christmas folks! tbh this is just a game of how many fics can I write that has to do with (a) joel's truck or (b) joel yearning. side note, looped Disease - Lady Gaga track on repeat while writing this oops

MASTERLIST | MAIN STORY

Holidays have never really been something you celebrated. Fuck it, your own birthday even. It just wasn’t a priority you considered worth fussing over. Admittedly, your lack of enthusiasm for these events was probably why you ended up avoiding them. You would do the most for the people you loved but never for yourself.

Take Halloween for example. Your friends from Columbia were begging you for a slutty girls' night out, but you’d opted to stay home to help chaperone your younger brother Oscar’s party. Even so far as to set everything up, you’d made sure Oscar had a shot at being the coolest damn guy in his school. Fret not, jobless big sis is there to help ya. 

Of course, it hadn’t gone unrewarded, to put it loosely. All that really happened was some broody hot middle-aged dad jerking off in front of your face. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You found yourself staring at the pale green piece of paper your younger brother, Oscar,  handed you when he came home from school that evening. Eyeing the morbidly cliche design that screamed of some bored old receptionists' handiwork, you tilt it to get a better read.

Oak Ridge High School Annual Christmas Potluck.

Great. Another one. You were often the stand-in for his PTA Meetings in place of your ever so busy parents. While you had your fun with the free buffets and whatnot, you were getting tired of people asking how old you were when you “had” Oscar. 

*Calling all Parent Volunteers. Please Contact Joel Miller at +1 (512) 555 XXX for details. 

Now that got your attention.

Joel Miller. The man who, after that night, weaseled his way into your glorious collection of mental spank bank. Evident in the plethora of stolen nudie mags your mom stashed underneath her mattress—you’d gone as far to dog-ear pages of men who had the slightest resemblance to him. 

You couldn’t get him out of your mind. By him, his dick. All eight fuckin’ inches of pent-up old man dick. 

The desperation in the way he thumbed his slit, coaxing his milky cum into your waiting mouth in your bedroom flashed in your mind like post-traumatic-sex-disorder. You were robbed of a good fuck.

The beeps of your dial-pad echoed embarrassingly loud while you dialled the number on the flyer before fully seeing the idiocy in this move. The line connects after a few rings. 

“Miller. Who’s callin’?”

A shudder runs down your spine. His voice hit you like a freight train, low and gravelly, cutting through the faint clatter of what sounded like construction work on the other end.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Hang up. Hang–

“Hi.” You blurt out, forcing a higher register in your voice in a desperate attempt to disguise yourself. “I’d like to register. For the Christmas…thing.” There was a pause, followed by the clunk of something heavy and the sound of boots against a hard floor. 

“Right. You’re the parent of…?” 

You clutched your phone tighter when Joel’s voice rang clearer than ever, throat dry as you scrambled to speak. “Oscar.”

He repeats your last name when you offer it, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to place it–a flicker of recognition almost.

“Alright then,” he finally says, the faintest edge of suspicion still lingering.

 “Guess I’ll see ya there.”

—

Impulsiveness was something that fucked Joel over most times. 

Messing around with someone he’d consider uncomfortably closer to his daughter's age than his own settled within him like poison. 

It’d been two whole months since the incident at halloween and he was still hung up over you. He was certain that a pretty girl like you had far better prospects than a washed up crotchety shit like him. 

You plagued his mind every time his fist wrapped around his cock. Every time he’d tried to fuck the stress of working long hours of grunt work at the site. Your soft and sweet expression offered him instantaneous, sticky reprieve. 

Guilt, or something he should’ve been feeling over using your face as masturbation material didn’t quite blare the alarms in his head through post-nut clarities. 

He knew he had fucked up the second he had you on your knees that night. 

You parked your sedan in front of a navy chevrolet in the driveway. Hopping out of the car as you looked up at the quaint home, clean white siding, neatly trimmed lawn. 

You figured by the bustling noise from the backyard that a volunteer offered up their home and all. Generous, you thought. And then you catch it. The worn down navy mailbox that sprawled the letters–

M I L L E R

The swirl that was now your mind dragged painful throbs in your head. To be in his own backyard felt stalker-ish even for you. 

With a weary exhale, you click open the boot of your car. Worrying had to come later, you had to formulate a game plan for the boxes of fairy lights you somehow had to haul into Joel’s backyard.

With a heaving effort, you propped up two boxes into your arms when the shuffle of footsteps catches your attention, coming from beside the opening garage. 

“Hey! Sorry, could use a little help...” You call out instinctively. 

Only managing to catch a glimpse of a hand bracing against the rickety garage door to shove it all the way up with a loud metallic clang. 

The sound startles you, but not as much as the sight when one of the boxes lifts from your hold, revealing your apparent savior.

The both of you pause, staring at each other in slight shock. Well–for him at least. You had ulterior motives that came delivered to you all wrapped up in worn-out denim.

Joel’s expression was less than welcoming, which in his defense—he wasn’t quite expecting to see his ghost in his own yard. 

“What are you doin’ here?”

The curtness of his voice throws you, but it’s too late to think of turning tail and driving off.

“I’m…one of the volunteers.”

“Sweetheart,” Joel begins, lifting the last box out of your arms like they weighed nothing. “You signin’ up under your mama’s name just to come sniffin’ round’ me? That it?”

“What? No. She couldn’t make it,” you shoot back, a little too quick, a little too defensive. Joel wasn’t buying it, his unimpressed stare making you shift on your feet.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, already stepping over to your car. With a grunt, he hefted another box from your trunk, the effort drawing a low sound from his chest. 

The bitterness (and arousal) pools in your mouth at the noise he makes. 

Yes. You’d admit. You sniffed out Joel’s trail like some stray, chasing after the smallest crumb of him. It wasn’t irrational for you to think that you deserved some sort of closure. 

His voice cuts clean through your spiraling thoughts. “If you’re expectin’ somethin’, you best stop right there. I ain’t messin’ around.” You grimaced, fumbling for words. 

“I’m just here to help—” 

“S’enough outta you. Stay out of trouble.” He interrupts, not quite looking at you. 

Joel wills himself to flick his gaze anywhere but at you, one look at your face was enough to remind him of the fact, one look was probably enough to pop a damn boner. He sets the boxes down by the patio, knees cracking as he stretches back up with a grunt.

“Get someone to hang ‘em up. ‘Cause clearly,” he says, eyeing your sweater and skirt, “you ain’t dressed to actually help.”

He gives you a short, dismissive nod before turning away, leaving you standing there. Warmth pools your cheeks, feeling foolish to have gone this far for the attention of a man who made it clear that he didn’t seem to give a fuck whether you were here or not.

—

Joel spends the better half of the afternoon hovering around you. 

Approaching you normally was out of the question now that Sarah and the other kids began to flitter into his backyard to help with preparation. His daughter’s presence acted like a highly effective cock-block. Not that he had any business entertaining those kinds of thoughts in the first place.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Risky didn’t begin to describe it, so he kept his distance. That resolve went straight out the window when he spotted you, half-balanced on a ladder, hanging Christmas lights along the edge of his roof. With candy cane printed panties peeking out from under your skirt—god almighty, Joel nearly doubled over.

You could feel Joel's eyes on you while attempting to hang the lights over the siding. Purposefully going against what he said, purposefully giving everyone a goddamn show. 

"You ever learn how to listen?" 

“I can do it myself.” You shot back. Coyly soothing the back of your skirt. A proper fuck you to him at his insinuation that you’d been here just to man-trap him. Not that the notion did much. 

You felt the ladder steady with Joel’s hold. Effectively blocking everyone else from seeing what you were flaunting. 

"For the love of christ, darlin’, get down." 

“For the love of christ, I’m almost fuckin’ done.” You parroted his words back to him with an annoyed huff. It was hard not to let Joel infiltrate your mind but lack of his attention was eating you up–making you do crazy things, evidently.

With a satisfied huff at the placements, you brought your arms down.

Why did that…feel heavy?

A sharp crackle and metallic clatter fills the air before you fully completed your thought, the chains of lights comes tumbling down. You froze. Lowering your gaze to see the single goddamn twine snagged onto your sweater that you’d effectively yanked down with you. 

The bulbs burst into chaotic pops as they hit the ground, shards of glass scattering like tiny fireworks across the patio, drawing everyone’s attention.

Joel doesn’t hesitate, his hands found your waist as he lifted you off the ladder and set you firmly on the ground to safety with a grunt, his eyes snaps to the shards of glass glinting in the light and the fresh scratches marring his freshly varnished patio.

"You gotta be shittin' me..." He mutters, the irritation sharp in his drawl.  

“Mr Miller…”

Joel held up his palm as a sign to get you to be quiet so he could speak. Damn if you calling him Mr Miller now of all times didn’t make him want to haul your ass up to his bedroom.

Which he might add, seemed conveniently close.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, pinching the bridge of his nose. "D’you think before you do anythin’ at all? Or do you just act on impulse?" He asks in a sharp and biting tone, looking directly at you as he spoke.

You cock your brow at his words. Surely he wasn’t seriously reacting this way to a couple of broken lights. To mention, your lights.

“What? Think about being a decent person to help?”

"A decent person would've listened the first time when I told you to leave it the hell alone," he snapped, stepping closer. "A decent person wouldn’t have shot me attitude n’ thrown a damn temper tantrum when I told you to get down."  

“What are you getting so bent out of shape for?”

“For starters, you wrecked my patio, darlin’.” He grumbles. Rubbing the back of his neck in the slightest amount of awareness that he’d overreacted, though he’d rather chew rocks than admit it. 

You don’t answer him. Humiliated as is. Your pouty-ness showed in the way you stomped over to get the broom that lay in the corner. He watches you regardless, arms folded taut.

“Goddamned train-wreck.” He mutters under his breath after a long pause, not even giving you the chance to let an apology leave your lips before he turns his heel to leave.

—

You didn’t take it well when people spoke to you like you were stupid. 

An Ivy League degree hung the walls of your room for fucks sake. Who the hell did Joel think he was? As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, you’d tucked your tail between your legs to sweep it all up without a word. The embers that lay dormant were further fanned as time passed. You were pissed.

Joel, on the other hand, begins to feel guilt at the way he’d reacted. Even in the corner of his eyes, he sees you helping set up with the rest of the parents. It wasn’t the behaviour of some reckless nympho he imagined you to be when you stepped foot into his yard. 

You didn’t have to stand there to stand under the sun in the unforgiving Texas heat, refilling lemonade for the parent’s committee. Or entertain Sarah and the rest of the kids. You’d turned his backyard into a damned Christmas Wonderland by the end of the night.

You were a good girl, he figures after a long while of brooding.

And he tries. He tries to approach you to apologize but you didn’t seem to be having it. Going out of your way to swerve at the slightest sight of him near you. Which he gets.

You were over it, really. Chalked it up to his personality being generally the way it was. But what really helped you get over your humiliation? Seeing Joel Miller fucking grovel. 

Which you were acutely aware of with the way he lingered around you, waiting for an opening that you deprived of him.

—

The skies grew to a dusky violet, the backyard gently lit up with the soft twinkle of the fairy lights you’d painstakingly hung up (and re-hung). Lull of familiar Christmas classics playing by the speakers. 

The warmth of the chatter and laughter surrounding the table tugged at your edges, coaxing a reluctant smile to your lips. You weren’t ready to admit it, but the festive mood was infectious.

You sat near the end of the committee’s table, the seat next to you conspicuously empty. The kids–Oscar, Sarah, and their friends were huddled at their own table. You briefly wondered if you should join them instead, given that the current hot topic at your table being mortgage rates.

The thud of a melamine crystal glass landing next to your plate broke your train of thought. You flick your gaze up, your expression hardening the moment you caught sight of Joel dragging the empty chair over next to you and lowering himself into it with a creak.

Without a word, he slides the glass closer to you, taking a sip from his own. His movements were deliberate, careful, like a man trying not to step on a landmine.

Joel wasn’t quite well-versed in apologies, as evident by Sarah’s constant reminders that one of these days he was going to piss a woman he actually fancied. His hand stretches over your lap, unfurling the napkin on the other side of you to drape it over your thighs. 

“Could you pass over the salt, sweetheart?” 

You tilt your head, arching a brow, not moving a muscle. Instead, you shot him a pointed look.

With a heavy sigh and a muttered curse under his breath, Joel stands up, his knees popping audibly as he leaned across the table to grab the salt himself. He slumps back into his chair, setting it down with a huff. How could a little thing like you hold so much anger?

“Done torturin’ me yet?” 

A scoff leaves your lips. 

“Who said I was?” 

“I’m tryin’ to apologise, sweetheart.” You shudder at the manner he whispers the words out. As though it was a secret reserved for just you and him. 

You rest your cheeks on your palms, shooting him an uninterested look. Joel’s eyes darts down to your plate that you were pushing to him. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching over and starts loading your plate up again with generous portions of the dishes spread across the table. The sight of him doing so, quiet and almost reverent, made your chest sing.

Oh this. This you could get used to.

For the next twenty minutes, you’d milked Joel’s newfound contrition for all it was worth. Needed a refill? Joel was already reaching for your glass. Running low on napkins? He was up and grabbing a fresh one before you even asked. You’d even braced yourself for him to snap when you made a fuss over your creaky chair, but to your delight, he stood up and swapped it out without so much as a grumble.

Unfortunately for you, your luck does runs out.

The flutter of your napkin onto the makeshift mat spread across the lawn catches his attention, his eyes darting to the rogue square of fabric before slowly flicking back up to meet your gaze. You leaned back in your chair, looking at him expectantly, lips quirking just enough to toe the line between innocent and insufferable.

Joel’s jaw twitches.

“Fuckin’ pick it up on your own, sweetheart.” his voice was laced with just enough irritation to make your smirk widen. Still, you couldn’t resist one last little prod.

Your legs shifted, one crossing over the other, the toe of your shoe brushing lightly against the denim of his jeans. His eyes darted down to the motion before snapping back up, a muscle in his jaw tightening.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to apologise?” 

Joel shifts in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest as he gave you a look that sent a shiver down your spine. “Think I settled my debts, crackles.”

You roll your eyes at his taunt, the warning laced in it only served to burn in your gut like uncontrollable lust. You felt yourself grow bored now that he’d ruthlessly cut you off from your only source of entertainment. 

The thrill begins to wane, you’d grown impatient at Joel’s lack of well, giving in. Though the idea, a possibly stupid one, that you might’ve needed to give him a little push crosses your mind. 

With a deliberate stretch, you rose from your seat, leaning over the table to reach for the salt shaker resting comfortably on Joel’s side with a hand placed on his thigh. It was perfectly positioned for him to hand it over to you–if you’d bothered to ask. But that wasn’t the point.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the faint tick of his pulse. Slowly, you eased back into your seat, dragging your fingers in a slow deliberate curve as you went.

The sharp grip of his hand on your wrist came next, firm enough to make you gasp. Joel’s dark eyes locked on yours, his nostrils flaring as he tried to keep whatever storm was brewing behind them at bay.

You pressed your tongue against your cheek, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. He’d taken the bait all right. The unmistakable rise against where your hand was placed told you what you needed to know. Hook, line, and sinker.

It doesn’t quite matter to him whether you’d forgiven him anymore. 

With a sharp tug, Joel pulls you up with him. “S’cuse me. This one isn’t feeling too well.” 

The protest dies in your throat when Joel practically hauls you across his yard, away from the nosy glances from the rest of the parents. 

You frown at the dusty old garage he leads you to up front where you’d parked your car. A hand comes up the back of your head to force you to duck underneath the half opened door, cringing at the loud sound it draws. 

You tip your head up to watch Joel grab the edge of the half-opened garage door to full slam it down shut.

Fuck. You felt your cunt clench with the way his sleeves tightened around his forearms, wetting your lips subconsciously at the sight.

“This where you murder me, Mr Miller?”

His jaw ticks at that. There it was again. Mr Miller.

“Shut up.”

You mouthed the words wow as you looked to the side. As though there was a camera you were monologuing to. Joel approaches you tentatively. Backing you up until you feel sturdy metal stop your path. 

A firm slam against the hood you were backed up against causes you to jolt. 

“You’re fuckin’ with me.” He begins. Shifting closer until he had you snug against him and the truck. “You’ve been fuckin’ with me.”

You tilt your head up. Neck stretched uncomfortably to its limit. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Joel sighs. Looking towards the side, as though he might back off and run away again. 

“This ain’t right.”

You frown. Why was he getting cold feet now? You gaze darts to the side, following his line of vision. A frilly pink bicycle parked in the midst of the dusty old boxes stacked up against concrete walls. Some labelled with years of mementos of his daughter growing up. 

Joel groans when he feels a much smaller, soft hand cup against the growing strain on his jeans. “Judging by this, I think you’re full of shit.”

His restraint teeters on the edge. “Don’t.” He grasps around your wrists to stop you, though, he half asses it, barely with the amount of strength he could’ve used if he’d really wanted you to stop.  

You palm against his erection, feeling it quickly harden beneath. You suck in your breath at the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the slight twitch of his lips. A whimper leaves your lips at how receptive he’d been to your touch. 

“You’re trouble.” He manages. Finally meeting your gaze. You can tell he’s conflicted, but the way you cupped around his balls through the denim has him keeling over with a rough exhale. 

He finally gathers enough strength in him to force your hand away from his cock. Just as you were about to whine about it, he flips you over. You steady your palms against the hood of his truck. 

“Gotta be quiet. You understand me?” You nod quickly. Not daring to speak considering how his voice already echoed in the garage even at its softest.

Your elbows move to rest against the dirtied metal. Folding it so you could comfortably rest your head on it. 

Joel lets out a low whistle at the way you bend your hips. Hiking your skirt up slowly. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” He mutters. Thumb swiping against the growing dampness of your panties. 

A dull noise from his zipper is the only other thing you hear when you feel him grind his clothed cock against you. 

“Mr Miller—please.” You breathed out. Your thighs tenses, wiggling your hips higher to relieve the ache you felt. Feeling his hardness prod against your folds. 

Joel sighs softly, thumbing against your clit before you curl into yourself. “Don’t need it.” You breathe out quickly. There’s a pause in his movements before you feel a thumb hook around the waistband of your panties. Dragging it down to your ankles. 

The sound Joel makes at the sight of your slick stringing down the gusset of it makes him wince out audibly. Two fingers gather the slick of your folds, messily dragging it up and down your clit in a repeated notion. His fingers dipping in and out of you with a squelch. You groan out. Hips stuttering at the sensation. 

“Hurry.” You urged.

You feel his other palm carefully twirl around the back of your hair. The breath knocks out of you when he heaves you backwards into his chest with a sharp tug. Fingertips entwined with your locks.

“Been patient with ya all fuckin’ day and ya think you got the right t’rush me now?”

Tears threaten to prick in the corners of your eyes at his tone. You grip around his wrist where he holds your hair. “…hurts” , you whisper, guiding his other hand back to your clit, “..here.”

Joel swallows thickly. He clenched his jaw so damn tight you audibly heard just how hard he ground them. How could he deprive you further when you were begging so sweetly? 

He shucks his jeans down further, guiding his twitching cock out from his boxers. A drawn out groan leaves your lips when he nudges the head of his cock against your soaking pussy. Your moan echoes loudly into the space around you both. 

He growls into your ears. Before you could apologise, your voice gets muffled around the heavy palm that comes to cover your mouth. You whine against it. “Told t’be fuckin’ quiet.” He grits, voice hushed against the side of your head. 

Your eyes nearly roll back at the way he begins to thrust into you with the tip in an effort to get you used to his size. But it didn’t matter. The way his cockhead stretched your pussy out stung. But it was quickly replaced by the nauseating need to be fucked full. 

Joel leans down to trace kisses up your neck before he fully sheathes himself into you. The muffle around your mouth grows tighter to suppress the loud moan. “Shh shh…you’ve got it.” He praises, breathing heavily into your ears. 

The tears trickle directly over his knuckles. He releases the grip he had on your hair, looping around your abdomen. Snapping his hips into you at a punishing pace. You babble incoherently, practically slobbering into his palms, whining about how deep his cock was pounding into you. 

The obscene slaps of where the two of you connected fills the garage, only spurring his need to fill you deep with his come. 

Joel lets out a groan when you clench around his dick like vice. “Fuck. Pussy’s chokin’ me.” His head drops to the dip of your neck. Pressing kisses onto your pulse point. 

“Don’t think I can last much longer.” He admits, dragging his hand–slick with your saliva down to your throat. His head flush against your shoulder blade. He takes a moment to breathe you in. Joel isn’t quite the man he used to be and coming this embarrassingly fast wasn’t on his docket. Least of all tonight. 

You squirm a little at the sensation of Joel’s stubble against your shoulder. A deep exhale leaving your lips. 

“M…me too..” You pant out heavily. Resting your head back against his chest. Joel’s free hand slides underneath your sweater, yanking your bra down. 

A rough palm kneads the softness, tweaking your hardened nipples in a circular motion. “Shit. Mr—…Miller.” You manage. Squirming at how his palm gropes your tits clumsily. You give yourself the final push you needed, your fingers coming down to rub against your clit. 

Joel’s hips stutter at the sensation of your pussy convulsing around his cock, following your orgasm soon after. But he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it. Both his hands firm around your hips. 

Your hands hastily come up to grab around his wrists. “Wait—stop—…stop.” You gasp out. Joel doesn’t quite register your pleas with how his mind was whirring around wanting to fuck his come deep into you until he feels a warm splatter of your release trickle down his thighs. 

Your bated breaths fill the garage. Mortified, you watch the liquid drip from the radiator grill of Joel’s truck. 

“I’ll be damned.” He muses, earning a warning look from you. Joel shakes his head, a low rumble from his chest makes you feel a little less embarrassed about squirting onto his truck. He turns you around to press a kiss onto the apple of your cheeks. 

“Been meanin’ to get er’ washed. Guess I don’t gotta anymore.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Aparecium

@wolfstarmicrofic April 1, word count 512

Remus was sitting at one of the study tables in the Gryffindor common room, merrily humming to himself as he poured over the map of Hogwarts he’d been working on for years. He’d added a few spells to it. He’d managed, after a lot of trial and error, to track every single witch and wizard in the confines of the castle and school grounds. 

Looking at it now, he could see Hagrid in his hut by the forest. Lily Evans and Severus Snape in the library. He wished she’d hurry up and realised what a sleazeball Snivellus was, but she was blind to all his wrongs. He tracked the fast-moving figure labelled James Potter as he zoomed around the quidditch pitch and spotted Peter Pettigrew seated in the stands watching the Gryffindor practice. He scanned the parchment for the name he longed to see. 

“Boo!” Remus leapt out of his chair. Sirius was right behind him. He looked at the map as his heart slowed to its usual rhythm, and there was the little label with Sirius Black written on it, right behind the one with Remus Lupin on it. “Oops, sorry, Moony,” Sirius took the seat beside him. “What are you working on?” He asked intrigued, snatching the map from the table. Remus managed to vanish the ink, but it was too late. Sirius had already seen it. “Something to hide, Remus?” He asked, raising a brow. He took his wand out of his pocket and tapped the map. 

“No Sirius, don’t,” Remus begged. 

“Aparecium,” Sirius recited, and the ink reappeared, but not in the form of the map. Instead, Remus’s spidery handwriting appeared. 

‘So rude! Go away, ugly! Who said you could have this? A troll has better manners than you do!’ 

Sirius read each new insult as it appeared and threw his head back, bursting into loud laughter. 

“Merlin, Remus, this is… Well, it’s excellent,” he wiped a tear from his eye. “Now, show me what’s really on it,” 

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Remus muttered the secret password under his breath and the ink spread out from his words and the map was revealed. 

“It’s a map of the school. It’s not finished yet,” he added, not wanting Sirius to judge him on the messiness of his charms. Sirius just stared at it in awe. 

“Remus, do you have any idea how much mischief we could accomplish with this map?” His eyes darted around the room, and he thrust the map at Remus’s chest. “Do not show this to anyone but us,” Sirius had a mad glint in his eye and for the next hour they bounced ideas off each other on how to improve the map and what changes could be made. Less than a month later the Marauder’s Map was finished and was on its maiden voyage to cause mischief. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Remus spoke clearly and grinned at his new and improved map drew itself across the parchment. This was going to be fun.

[onehundredflamingos]

2 / fire / 512 words

@jegulus-microfic

I forgot to post this on the second, oops

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me, James?” Regulus asked from across the table, not bothering to look up from the newspaper he was reading.

James swallowed hard, not realizing how obvious he was about it — that regulus could sense his gaze.

“You’re just pretty, is all,” James said, and he tried to say it in jest, like he was teasing Regulus, but it came out in a whisper. Something reverent and adoring, and that was not what he intended.

Regulus hummed, finally looking up at James. “Is that why you watched me take every bite of my breakfast this morning?”

James felt his face flush, again unaware at how obvious he had been. He nodded his head weakly, clearing his throat. “Pretty mouth,” he said stupidly.

Really stupidly, because who the fuck would say something like that?

“You think so?” Regulus asked, pushing the newspaper away from himself. “Do you want to kiss me, James?”

Yes.

Absolutely, yes.

“What?” James asked instead, a bit baffled by the question, if he was being honest.

“Do you want to keep staring at my pretty mouth, or do you want to kiss me?”

Regulus looked expectant, so James stood up and made his way around the table, willing this not to be some kind of trick.

Trusting that Regulus wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want it too.

The second James was standing in front of Regulus, he dipped down and pressed a kiss to his lips, something soft and gentle in a way that completely betrayed how hungry the touch made him.

James made to pull away, respectful in spite of himself, but Regulus was deepening the kiss, pressing his lips more firmly against James’ and holding him in place.

The intensity sent fire through James’ veins, want coursing through him instantly at the press of Regulus’ tongue against his own, before the feel of Regulus’ hand on his chest sent him back a few inches.

James reluctantly pulled back and looked at Regulus, unsure about what was happening, unhappy about the distance.

“Now leave me to read the paper,” Regulus huffed, reaching for the newspaper on the table once more, but James knew now that the desire wasn’t one sided. That his pining wasn’t in vain as he had always thought.

James placed a hand atop the newspaper, tutting softly as he continued to look over at Regulus. “I think you want my pretty mouth just as badly,” James said, grinning.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, looking down at James’ mouth. One side of his mouth was tipped up in a secret smile, and James knew he wouldn’t turn his proposition down.

“Do you want to keep staring at my pretty mouth, or do you want to kiss me?” James asked, throwing Regulus words back at him.

Regulus let a soft laugh slip past his lips, one that James was immediately diving in and capturing with his own, content to spend the entirety of the morning doing just that.

Regulus seemed to have no qualms about doing just that, newspaper be damned.

[tozettastone]

I went to update my StoryGraph page to tell everyone that I was being so brave and had read another 10% of this interminable book I'm working through, and then the platform was like: do you want to see your StoryGraph Wrap Up?

So, here we go:

22 books this year!

I think the Wrap-Up graphic works by showing only books that you marked as "finished." I also started a few more and definitely DNFed at 3 that didn't make it into the graphic. I think also a few of them I must have finished in 2023 and added to the list this year when I made my account. So it's not perfectly accurate, probably

Very kind of the platform to allow me to ignore my inconstant character, huh. xD

First book finished in 2024, The Anglo Saxons by Marc Morris, and last book finished in 2024, Foxglove Summer by Ben Aaronovitch.

I actually finished reading Foxglove Summer during October, but I've been languishing with my latest novel for actual months now, so it's technically the most recent book I finished reading. Oops!

Longest book finished in 2024, Le Morte d'Arthur by Thomas Malory (512 pages), and shortest book finished in 2024, Ariel by Sylvia Plath (81 pages).

I am fairly certain I began reading Le Morte d'Arthur in 2023 actually, but I must have finished it in 2024 and added to my StoryGraph account this year!

Top genres: fantasy (14 books), mystery (5 books), YA (5 books), Crime (4 books), Classics (4 books).

Of these genres, the only one that struck me as odd was "crime," but a quick look showed that the Rivers of London series is filed under crime as well as fantasy — so there you go. Otherwise, my shelves are indeed always full of fantasy books and I did a project on YA stories this year, so no surprises here!

Top authors: Ben Aaronovitch, Naomi Novik.

That would be the Rivers of London and the Scholomance series respectively, I think.

[pw132-art]

i keep forgetting to post this oops

this was birthday gift art for a friend who likes cereal experiments lain unfortunately i haven't watched an episode of lain in my life so i kinda had to guess what the show is actually about

wait is it is cereal right? it's not serial is it...

(also it's drawn at the original mac screen res of 512 × 342 1bpp for uhhh reasons)

[squarebracket-trickster]

oops I may be stopping 2 hours and 15 minutes after I said I would. damn you hyperfocus.

updates:

Word count: 63 920. Page count: 112. Percent: 80%. Words since yesterday: 2982.

First draft total word count for the equivalent section: 3784. Number of words cut this session: 802. First draft total word count at the equivalent place: 97 432. First draft total page count at the equivalent place: 137. (Net) number of total words cut from the WIP: 33 512 (it seems we are going over my goal!! I will have room!!!)

Milestones: 80% !!!!! (well, technically 79.9 but w/e)

where am I: the next scene is when Ryeneth's reinforcements arrive and the fighting (battle) actually officially begins.

how'd it go?: the parlay scene still needs work OH MY GOD. there is just so much going on and yet not enough. I was just trying to make it not confusing or overly repetitive but the characters kinda feel bland. Maybe the scene will come to life when I actually start paying attention to prose because there is a lot of body language communication going on and the dialogue isn't carrying the scene like it does in most of my writing.

[thelastunison]

some pretty simple Elster fanart I made a while ago, I experimented a bit by using almost exclusively pixel brushes

[niki-phoria]

Hellooo, may i ask for Y/N taking care of Soobin and Yeonjun?, since you alredy did with the other members, and to make it a little different maybe you can do When Soobin's rhinitis it's really bad so he stays in home with you but he wakes you up in the middle of the night bc he can't sleep bc of his stuffy nose and you try some things to make him sleep, like you're so concentrated doing weird things trying to make him sleep but you didn't realize he is asleep again, and for Yeonjun like he hurted his knee or something and he stays home with you, but he's sad bc he can't really move his knee (example) and you try to make him smile doing anything he likes, then he realizes he loves you so much and starts crying and you calm him down until he's sleeping :(

Sorry for making this so long and especific i just thought i would me really cute, btw i love u so much, you're so underrated :(

⋆｡°✩ taking care of soobin, yeonjun, and beomgyu

includes: i made a ver for beomgyu where reader gets sick so i made another one where beomgyu gets sick, yeonjun cries (out of happiness), these get progressively shorter oops

a/n: thank you so much for requesting !! i lowkey love when ideas are super specific like this lol don't worry about it being too long this idea is really cute, i hope you like it :))

gn reader (no pronouns used)

requests open !! read my rules first

⋆｡°✩ soobin

blonde soobin >>> (word count 512)

“y/n?” you’re awoken when soobin gently shakes your shoulder. he moves a little closer to lean over you as he shakes you again. “y/n?” 

you sleepily blink up at him, squinting in hopes of your eyes adjusting to the darkness quicker. soobin sniffles as he moves to give you some space to sit up. you reach over to turn the lamp on your bedside table on. 

in the newfound light, you can see soobin better. his nose and eyes are slightly red from irritation and an empty box of tissues sits beside him. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“i can’t sleep,” soobin sniffles. “my nose is too stuffy. i can’t breathe.” 

“oh, i’m sorry, baby.” you gesture for him to move closer so he’s leaning against your chest. his hair feels soft against your fingers as you twist the strands in your hands. “what do you usually do when it gets bad?”

“i just try to deal with it,” he mumbles. his voice sounds a little scratchy as he whispers. “i have to record tomorrow. i can’t sound like this.” 

“why don’t i go make you some tea and then we can look up some ways to help?” after a moment of contemplation, soobin nods. 

“okay.” 

you smile, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead. “i’ll be right back.” 

“thank you,” he whispers. you nod, making your way through your apartment to turn on the kettle. the light from the clock on your stove catches your eye. 01:37. it hasn’t been long since you first went to bed. has soobin awake the whole time? 

the water boils quickly. you pull a mug from your cabinet and add some tea to it before pouring the water in. you’re careful as you make your way back to your shared room, setting the cup on the table beside soobin. 

“careful, it’s hot.”

“thank you,” he whispers again. soobin leans back against your chest as you open your computer and begin to scroll through articles with potential remedies for stuffy noses. the answers range from a variety of steam products to essential oils. finally, something catches your eye. 

“maybe we can try some apple cider vinegar,” you say, still scrolling through the various treatment suggestions. when soobin doesn’t immediately answer you look over at him. he’s moved from your shoulder to nuzzle his head against your thigh as he curls up next to you. his breathing has evened out and his snores quieted down. the irritation around his nose has nearly disappeared. he’s sleeping soundly in your lap.

you smile, reaching over to grab your phone and snapping a quick picture of soobin. he sighs a little in his sleep as he shifts closer to you. you’re careful not to move too much when you reach over to turn the light off again before setting your computer aside. 

“goodnight baby,” you whisper. you don’t notice the way soobin unconsciously smiles when you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead before leaning back against your headboard to get some sleep of your own. 

⋆｡°✩ yeonjun

the gender envy i get from him is so bad omg (word count 473)

usually, yeonjun calling you at odd hours of the day was a common occurrence. time zones and your busy schedules made it difficult to keep in constant contact with each other so he had made a habit of randomly calling you whenever he had time - even if it was only a few minutes - just to hear your voice. 

what was uncommon, however, was being called multiple times. your phone vibrates against the table as you finally walk over to answer the call. to your surprise, it isn’t yeonjun on the other end: it’s soobin. 

“y/n?” 

“is everything okay?” 

“don’t freak out,” he begins. you hope he can’t hear how you immediately tense at the words. “you need to drive to the hospital. yeonjun got hurt during practice. it’s nothing too serious but he’s asking for you.” 

“i’ll be right there,” you say, rushing to grab your shoes. you don’t bother with a jacket despite the cold weather outside as you run out to your car and quickly begin driving. 

“here,” you whisper, kneeling down beside yeonjun. he winces a little when you press the ice pack against his injured knee. “i’m sorry.” 

“don’t be.” 

you press a kiss against his forehead as you stand up, disappearing into the kitchen for a few minutes. yeonjun lights up a little when you return with two bowls of mint chocolate ice cream and a bowl of noodles you prepared for him. “i made you some food,” you say as you set the bowl in front of him and draping a blanket over his lap. “we can watch the new episodes of the glory and cuddle together.” 

yeonjun stares up at you with wide eyes for a few seconds. you’re about to speak again when he reaches out to pull you down into a hug. you flinch a little, careful not to hurt his knee at all as you wrap your arms around him. 

“thank you,” he whispers. you can just barely feel wetness stinging against the skin of your neck. you pull yeonjun a little closer, rubbing his back. he sniffles a little when he pulls away to look into your eyes again. “i’m sorry, i just… i love you. i love you so much. i got hurt and you rushed to the hospital to be with me and now you’re here taking care of me and i just… i’m in love with you.” 

you tilt his face up to pull him into a kiss. yeonjun smiles into it, holding you in place as he presses another peck against you. “i love you too.” 

you can’t contain your excitement, wrapping him into a hug and pressing a million little kisses against his neck and face. yeonjun laughs when you pull away, tugging you down to sit next to him so you’re leaning against his chest. 

⋆｡°✩ beomgyu

he's so pretty i love him sm (word count 376)

the sound of your ringtone blaring wakes you up. you groan, shifting onto your side to grab it. it’s still vibrating in your hand as you sit up to answer. “hello?” your voice is groggy from sleep. 

“y/n?” beomgyu coughs on the other end of the line. his voice is scratchy when he tries to talk. “can you come over? please?” 

“yeah, of course,” you’re quick to get out of bed, throwing on a random pair of shoes as you rush out of your apartment to your car. “is everything okay?” 

“i think i’m sick,” he whines. you can hear the sheets rustling as he lays back down on his bed. “i’ve had a headache since yesterday and i woke up a little while ago when i threw up.” 

“i’m sorry baby,” you say, quickly slamming the door shut as you start the engine. “i’ll be right there, okay?” 

“okay. i love you.” 

“love you.” 

you ignore how cold it is outside as you begin driving. after being with beomgyu for months and having been friends even longer before making your way to the txt dorms is nearly second nature. the streets are empty due to the late hour as you drive through.

gentle rain has just begun to fall as you park the car. you run up the steps to their dorm, about to knock when the door swings open in front of you. a tired-looking beomgyu stands on the other side. he has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and stands leaning against the door for support. he sniffles, opening his arms as a gesture for you to enter.

“hi baby,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. “how are you feeling?” beomgyu groans as he leans against your chest. “that bad, huh?” you chuckle.

“want cuddles,” he rasps. 

“okay,” you whisper. “come on. let’s go cuddle.” 

beomgyu refuses to let go of you as you guide him over to the couch. he continues to cling to you as you maneuver your body around him to lay next to him. he sleepily smiles at you as you run your fingers through his hair, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead. “i love you.” 

“i love you too. now get some rest.” 

[anyamaris]

Writer's Guide to Summoning a Demon

Word Count-512

Summary-Writers block has you saying random things you wish you could take back when an unexpected visitor shows up.

Genre-Supernatural...drabble?

Pairing- F!writer!reader x ?????? AU Ateez

Warnings-Swearing, summoning of a demon, talk about sex, brat behavior. I think that's all? Probably NSFW 18+?

I wanted to write what was in my head but it's just a short for now, seeing if it's interesting enough to continue. Hope you enjoy!! Feedback and reblogs appreciated!!

Part 2

"Arrggghhhh why can't I think of anything?!" You yell into the empty room, startling your cat from its slumber. "Oops....sorry baby." you say, feeling bad that you'd disrupted her sleep.

It was the third week you'd gone without being able to come up with something to write and your editor was getting very irritable about it.

"Come on, Y/n, just like...write some sexy stuff. It's your forte, what's the issue?" she'd said and you rolled your eyes, remembering.

Yeah, easy for someone to say who has a partner to go home to. You'd heard plenty of stories about her and her wife to leave you jealous for decades. It'd been ages since you'd had a man in your life, and you definitely needed something to inspire you.

"Hmm...I wonder if there's a hotline for horny, sexless people looking for a hot night. For research, of course." You assure your kitty and she just blinks at you.

"I summon thee, oh demon of inspiration and smut!" You yell and then throw your head back, letting out a cackle.

"You called?" a male voice says behind you and you fall backwards out of your computer chair where you'd been leaning back. "What the fuck?!" you yell and his eyes get big, putting his hands up.

Scrambling to stand up, you point at him, but you're unable to get any words out. The man (was he?) had beautiful cheekbones, dark hair that swept into his eyes, which appeared to also be a dark brown and pretty lips which were currently formed into a pout at you.

"Are you...pouting at me?" you ask him, as he crosses his arms. "Yeah, well, you summon me and then you swear at me, so rude!" He says, his bottom lip thrust out farther than before. Did you just....summon a...brat?

"You're telling me you're a demon?" you ask, putting some distance between you two, pulling your chair so it was in front of you. Running his hands through his hair, he sighs, then starts to pace. "How are you going to ask me that, after you summon me and then I appear out of nowhere? It's kind of obvious." he says, sighing dramatically again and looking at his nails.

"So, like, about that..." you say. He just raises his eyebrows at you and sighs. "Look, I just made a funny quip talking to my cat. Aren't summons supposed to be all like, complicated and shit? I didn't even light a candle!" You say, throwing up your hands in frustration.

"Nah, it's not all that complicated. You just have to say some words and poof! Me. Or you know, some other smut demon. Whatever." He says, shrugging. "So...let's get to work!" He says, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Startled, you hold up one hand and cover your eyes with the other (definitely not peeking, nope). "Woah woah woah! What-why-what are you doing?" you stammer out. He just looks at you and says, "Getting naked for sex, why?" and you cough out a laugh.

"Oh my god, what have I done?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@veronicasawyerschainsaw @shinestarhwaa @cultofdionysusnet

[nonsensical-pixels]

4t2 desert luxe kit: part 1 (?) [download]

the singles girls are finally done with preview work for now!

heyyy everyone, i've been working on this for quite awhile. this is 9 items from the latest sims 4 kit, desert luxe! i got a few requests & a lot of encouragement to convert it, so i decided to go ahead and finally upload it today 😀

these are mostly items that i could see being useful outdoors; the files have been compressed & are unmerged and i did my best to playtest. if there are any issues not already listed on this post, pls lmk and i'll try to fix them!

i have a lot of free time now, so maybe i'll add on to this existing conversion collection? 👀

credits

credits go to ea/maxis for the original meshes & textures, and to @bstu and @fireflowersims for helping me with some slots & technical difficulties!

known issues

-> the lounge chair has some issue with animations. since it doesn't have arms, unlike the maxis loungers, the sims' arms just kinda float. i pictured it in the preview because i don't wanna lie to anybody.

-> sometimes sims' arms may clip into the back of the fireplace while they're lighting it. the fireplace is also intended for a two-story room/outdoors. if anyone wants me to make a repo'd edit feel free to request it, but i wanted it to fit exactly with the house i used as a preview.

-> the close-up for the barstool shows it as fully opaque. it actually has some transparent bits, but i didn't fix them until after the pic was taken... oops!

stuff included

balanced wood end table (36 polys) calming stone end table (356 polys) desert's end table (44 polys) earthen fireplace (1576 polys) nested bliss bar stool (408 polys) simply luxe chair (720 polys) soft as stone loveseat (102 polys) the minimalist's lounge chair (512 polys) the sand bar (1105 polys)

click on the names for close-ups😀hope you all have a great day simming!

( @sims4t2bb )

[mdzsartreblogs]

October Tag Audit & Stats Round Up

I'm so far behind on stuff this month, oops.

Current Follower Count: 1,865 (+24 since September round up)

Total Posts: 29,076 (when I actually grabbed the tags like two weeks ago) (+1,134 since September)

Unique Tags Used: 9,230 (+193 since September)

Number of Artists with at Least One Work Reblogged Here: 5,119 (+110 since September)

Ten Most Reblogged Characters:

wei wuxian (14,423 works) (no change since the September round up)

lan wangji (11,570 works) (no change)

jiang cheng (4,269 works) (no change)

lan xichen (2,808 works) (no change)

a yuan (2,169 works) (no change)

nie huaisang (2,209 works) (no change)

jin guangyao (1,972 works) (no change)

jin ling (1,860 works) (no change)

nie mingjue (1,443 works) (no change)

xue yang (1,333 works) (no change)

Twenty Most Reblogged Platonic and Romantic Ships:

wangxian (8,383 works) (no change)

twin prides of yunmeng (908 works) (no change)

xicheng (607 works) (no change)

grape uncle (559 works) (no change)

xiyao (512 works) (no change)

twin jades of gusu (462 works) (no change)

wangxian are dads (436 works) (no change)

yunmeng siblings (427 works) (no change)

songxiao (384 works) (no change)

nie brothers (366 works) (no change)

sangcheng (357 works) (no change)

wei wuxian is a dad (339 works) (no change)

xuexiao (323 works) (no change)

junior trio (241 works) (no change)

zhuiling (223 works) (no change)

lan wangji is a dad (212 works) (no change)

wei wuxian is an uncle (204 works) (+1 since September)

junior quartet (199 works) (-1 since September)

yi city family (189 works) (no change)

wen siblings (186 works) (no change)

Ten (+1) Most Prolific Artists: (+1 = official art)

bi-the-wei (472 works) (no change)

official art (419 works) (no change)

littlesmartart (278 works) (no change)

zeldacw (269 works) (no change)

modao18 (260 works) (no change)

ibijau (225 works) (no change)

sketchyscribbles (215 works) (no change)

elogval (213 works) (no change)

chemical-abcess (189 works) (no change)

soursoppi (155 works) (no change)

245bst (153 works) (no change)

Twenty Most Used Other Tags: (excluding media tags like #digital art)

flowers (4,018 works) (no change)

modern au (3,558 works) (no change)

fantasy au (2,817 works) (no change)

wangxian hug (2,593 works) (no change)

lan wangji has golden eyes (2,554 works) (no change)

yiling laozu (2,057 works) (no change)

food (2,000 works) (no change)

chenqing (1,900 works) (no change)

blood tw (1,855 works) (no change)

hearts (1,787 works) (no change)

bunnies (1,710 works) (no change)

lemon (1,688 works) (no change)

stars (1,559 works) (no change)

lan sizhui (1,512 works) (no change)

fan (1,187 works) (no change)

canon divergent au (1,179 works) (no change)

wei wuxian has red eyes (1,173 works) (no change)

creature wei wuxian (1,156 works) (+1 since September)

lotuses (1,153 works) (-1 since September)

wangxian kiss (1,119 works) (no change)

[sysmedical-blocklist]

oops i forgot to post a bunch that i added to the list, here you go

512-521

fog-system

caregiverbalam

toybotic

sleepy-eyes-system

endogenicblocklist (lol)

definitelydissociative

bluewhxle

bisexualjackmercer

az-modeus

osddtraumagenic