#PLEASE do not just Like this post and then leave. I NEED HELP!!

[fcthots]

You’re sitting on the couch of your shared apartment when Jason climbs in through the window, finally done with patrol. His entrance makes you look up from your phone. He reaches up and tugs his helmet off. His hair looks a little funny, but it also made him look good. He didn’t need the ego boost though. You can tell he had an eventful patrol by the smile on his face.

He walks towards you and drops his hand onto your arm. He lets it slide down until his hand rests on yours. He pulls your hand to his lips in greeting. “Hey, princess.” He squeezes your hand before giving it back to you.

“How was patrol?” You watch as he strips off his outer layers of gear. The display never gets old.

“Good.” He laughs. “But I have got to tell you what happened. Red Robin, Tim, smacked into Red Robin, the restaurant. It was completely by accident too. I begged Babs to get me the camera footage. She’s searching as we speak.”

You laugh at his enthusiasm and the way he laughed before he even finished the story. You ask him questions, he answers them. It continues until he goes to take his shower.

You turn back to your phone. This is where it all goes wrong, because you see a post that ruins your day. It reads, “the first time most men receive flowers is at their funeral.”

Evil. Illegal. Unacceptable. Had you really never given Jason flowers before? You swore you did but your memory came up empty. By the time you finished your existential flower crisis, Jason finished showering and called you to bed. He’s exhausted and falls asleep quickly. You, however, stay awake and plan. You will get the love of your life flowers. You will not let the first time he receives flowers to be at his funeral. You fall asleep trying to decide what flowers he would like best.

You wake up before him, getting up as gently as possible. If he wakes up with you, he’ll trap you for cuddles in his huge beefy inescapable arms, so you must be careful. You wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t know Jason as well as you do.

You get ready as silently and as quickly as possible before sliding out the door. The nearest flower shop isn’t too far. You make it there and back in 30 minutes, and most of that time was spent deciding what flowers you wanted to get Jason.

You walk home with a bouquet of simple red roses with some baby’s breath sprinkled in. It’s wrapped in black paper with a read bow, a color combination you’re sure he’ll love.

You walk home a little slower, careful not to disturb the flowers cradled in your arms. The long walk leaves you to your thoughts. You wonder how Jason will react.

And then you get worried. What if he thinks it’s weird? Jason has never called you weird unaffectionately before, but what if this is what does it? Or, even worse, what if he pretends to like them but actually thinks it’s weird? You spiral a little and panic. You eventually walk head first into your door on muscle memory.

You make sure the flowers are okay before opening the door. You hide the bouquet behind your back. To your surprise, Jason is awake and in the kitchen. His morning voice greets you with a smile. “Did you just walk into the door?”

Your worry begins to fade and a smile crawls its way onto your face. “Shut up.”

He laughs and the sound makes you blush. You love him. “You did!”

“And to think I was out getting you a present.” You shake your head.

“You got me a present?” He looks a like an excited puppy.

“I got my loving boyfriend a present. Let me know if you see him.” You pretend as if you’re about to walk out.

Jason rushes over to you smiling. “Wait, no! He’s right here! Please! I want my present!”

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you thrust the flowers at him. He takes them from you, his smile softening. “Do you like them?”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “What are these for? They’re beautiful. I love them.” You watch him feel the petals with a gentle smile that he can’t seem to help.

You tell him about the post you saw, and how you couldn’t let the first time he got flowers be at his funeral. He pauses. “Babe. I really love the flowers. Seriously. Best gift ever. But um. The first time I got flowers was at my funeral.” He watches your face.

You lift a hand and cover your mouth. “Oh my god.” He laughs and uses one had to hug to you to his chest.

“I really love the sentiment! It means a lot! I love them so much!” He smiles into your hair as you wrap your arms around him.

“That’s why I remember buying you flowers before but couldn’t remember giving them to you. I feel terrible.”

“Don’t. This was so sweet, seriously. If it wasn’t the ass crack of dawn, I would cry.”

You laugh. “It’s past noon.”

He huffs. “Same thing. We were up until like 4.”

“This is true,” you say. “I still feel so bad though. I can’t believe I forgot you had a funeral already.”

He laughs and you can feel it in his chest. “The idea was really sweet, princess. I love the flowers. You just made my day. Nay, my week.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you running into the door really sealed the deal.”

You push on his chest. “I hate you.”

[essiemclaren]

lingering ties

pt 5

College!au

In which reader and Oscar, now broken up, must co-parent their (fur) baby

warning/s: cursing and slight alcohol consumption

oscar's chat with the unibros

unibro's post on twitter/x

unibro's chat

their post on twitter/x

oscar's chat with unibros

oscar's chat with reader

oscar's chat with unibros

--

a/n: sorry for the delayed post!!! tbh i didnt realize it has been what five days since i last posted? because i really thought i just posted yesterday 😭 SO FORGIVE ME, and if i do forget to post, please, please, please, dont be afraid to get mad at me lol 😭 I NEED SOMEONE TO REMIND ME UGH 💔 let me know your thoughts on this one!!! i wonder what the reader will say next hmmm 😩 and thank you for supporting me! reblogging, liking, and leaving comments helps me get motivated!

want to know what comes next? ask for a tag! ❤️

love from essie!! 🌸

tags: @tsireyasgf @ziarahpikiran @mrsjamietartt @softtina @overlyexcitedoutlaw @osclerc @nixisracing @sinfully-yoursss @colmathgames2 @booksandflowrs @formula1blog @storminacloud @nixily @lokideservesahug @cherry-piee @annispamz @sltwins @mxdi0 @killinorris @awritingtree @andruuu28 @sarahkaliii @auggieblogs @hanshy @evie-119

@tellybearryyyy @ale-522 @xoxonoire @grovelingmen @s0meth1ngs @kodzuvk @2pagenumb @luuuucas @nataliambc @lyannesworld @honethatty12 @brune77e @iloveyou3000morgan @5sospenguinqueen @ellouisa17 @daisyfreecs @lichterfee @ididntseeurbag @koalalafications @saachiep81 @angelfrombeneth @vintagefucksstuff @mmoodd-jobutupaki

[joelsdolly]

SUMMER BUMMER • 🦢

warnings: smut, unprotected piv sex, some aftercare, ur sarah's best friend, age gap, no use on y/n, petnames (baby, sweetheart) reader is legal!!!!!!!!!

word count: 1.1k

notes: first time posting smut about a man please pray for me chat😔

it started as innocent eye contact, winking and some occasionally suggestive jokes, that's all it was, yet it grew into something more when you found yourself straddling your best friend's dad, his lips ghosted yours and before you knew it you were making out, yours lips moved in synch, you started to grind your core against his clothed thigh, he pulled away and stopped your hips, 'not today, but...soon' you giggled and nodded

you waited for that day, you would always find excuses to go over early or forget something and have to go pick it up when sarah wasn't home, and you always found yourself on top of him with your lips pressed against his . you would promise each other that you would stop but you couldn't, it was like an addiction, to the rush and to him, it was something you both needed

the air was hot and sweat dripped down your neck, you were outside gardening with sarah, she has just recently bought some new flowers that needed to be planted, so when she asked you to help of course you accepted . you were wearing some short jean shorts and a tank top, you had slipped on some comfortable shoes, as you dug a hole in the dirt you heard the front door open, joel had brought out two glasses of lemonade

'here you go girls' he placed it on the table on the porch, you rushed over to it, feeling dehydrated, you quickly drank it, not leaving on drop, joel watched you and chuckled . 'you want more?' he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, you shook your head and turned around, 'no, m'good, thank though' he patted your shoulder and nodded before heading back inside

the day went on and you spent it all at sarah's house, by the time you had finished gardening and school work it was around dinner time, joel had suggested you stay for dinner, you accepted and helped prepare the food, it was the least you could do . you all sat down at the table, joel choosing to sit next to you, you wondered why but you didn't think to much of it

as you ate your food you felt a hand creep onto your thigh, you almost froze, yet you didn't because you knew who's it was, you looked down and saw joel's large hand gripping and massaging your thigh, you acted like nothing was happening, choosing to ignore the feeling of yourself growing wetter, you continued the conversation and eating, because once again nothing was happening

you helped clear the table and wash the dishes with sarah, you watched some tv with her, choosing a movie you'd already seen hundreds of times, joel sat by you two, reading a book, sarah felt herself get tired, she yawned, 'hm, i think I'm gonna go to bed' she spoke, you nodded your head, 'me too, I guess I'll get going' before you could fully stand up to leave joel put his book down and pulled you back down on the couch, 'or you could sleep over here tonight'

you thought about it, was it a good idea? no, not at all, we're you going to stay? yes, yes you we're . 'okay sure' you beamed, you and sarah headed to her room, she gave you a blanket and some pillows so you could sleep on the ground . she quickly fell asleep, you on the other hand couldn't sleep at all, maybe it was the uncomfortable floor or maybe it was the ache between your legs, you tossed and turned until you got up

you walked downstairs in only a tank top and boxers, you thought joel would be asleep too yet you found him sitting on the couch watching some mediocre show, you sat down next to him, sighing and turning your head towards him, 'can't sleep?' you shook your head, 'so you came down here, because you couldn't sleep? no other reason?'

'well I thought maybe you could help me...' he chuckled, 'and how would I do that?' you moved closer to him, straddling his lap, 'dunno actually...' he cupped your face with his hands and brought you into a rough kiss, 'i have an idea baby, you just lay back' he said between kisses, you ran your hand up and down his arm, giving his bicep a quick squeeze . he gripped your hips as you grinded on to his thigh, he laid you down, 'are you sure you want this' he questioned, 'yes, I am, I want you joel' you whined

'fuck' he mumbled, he began to unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down, you could see his hardened member though his boxers, he leaned down to kiss you, as you sloppily made out he pulled down your boxers, he slipped his fingers onto your heat, feeling how wet you we're, 'this all for me sweetheart?' you nodded, he chuckled and pulled his boxers down

he pumped his cock a couple times before lining his tip up with your cunt, he slowly slipped into your hole, the stretch stinging but feeling amazing, you shut your eyes and moaned, a little too loud for his liking, he covered your mouth with his hand, 'shh shh' he cooed . he started to rut his hips, his cock pumping in and out of you, your jaw flung open and your eyes rolled to the back of your head

he fucked into you, his tip abusing your poor cervix, with every thrust a small whine escaped your mouth, and he heard and appreciated every one of them . he continued his ruthless pace, grabbing your hips and slamming into you, your back arched and bit your bottom lip, you felt a knot in your stomach grow and he could tell you were close by the way you were clenching around him

'come baby, c'mon' he gently slapped your thigh, with his action you came all over his cock, he could see a ring of your nectar forming around the base of his shaft, with how tight you were clenching around him he spilled his seed deep inside you, he let out a low grown as his orgasm washed over him . he regained his breath and sighed, he pulled out and fixed himself up before rushing into the bathroom

you were too fucked out to tell he was gone but soon you felt a warm wet washcloth wipe your cunt clean, he pulled your boxers back up and grabbed a cover for you, he laid it on top of you and kissed your forehead as you drifted off into a deep sleep .

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hi hi!! I was just wondering if you could write general hcs (or longer blurbs) of the Harbingers (Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Arlecchino and La Signora) with a dumb and naive fem! Reader? (Gn is fine) Perversions such as stalking, manipulation, and non con elements + etc. are a-ok! 👌(^◡^ ) I want the entirety of the Yandere-ness!!!

Much love 😈

hi this request was so cool!! i don't usually do more than 3-4 characters per post so i did a few this time, if you wanna swing back around and request the rest of the characters i'd be more than happy to write it for you :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against ones will, subject to unwilling experiments, delusional behaviors, obsessive tendencies, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Childe:

Oh Celestia you couldn’t be any more perfect could you? That wide-eyed, dumb little look you gave him whenever he was talking about his missions, eager to listen but to stupid to understand. He just adores you, his big hands cupping your face, squishing your cheeks to make you look even sillier. Childe just can’t get enough of you. 

You’re like a little puppy dog to him, so cute and silly yet so unknowing. He can’t help but want to smother you in hugs and kisses when you’re around, doting on you and making sure no one ever lays a finger on you aside from him.

It’s when you’re not around that things are different with Childe, it’s like he’s gone haywire, feral without your company. He wears a little locket on a chain attached to his belt, it has a picture of you and a lock of your hair inside. He makes sure to keep it well protected, occasionally spraying it with your perfume or beauty products so it smells like you. As soon as he’s back home with you though he’s the same sweet, overbearing Childe he was previously. 

Dottore:

He takes full advantage of the situation, subjecting you to minor experiments, most of which are harmless. Dottore always has his eyes on you, whether his actual ones or the ones of his segments. Even in your sleep there’s some variation of him watching you, settled at your bedside with a notepad in hand, camera just beside him. It’s like every second of your life is being recorded for Dottore, because it is.

He’s also obsessed with your body, giving you regular weekly check ups. He tells you that it’s normal, that all proper adults get checkups this often, even when the check ups push beyond the normal means. It’s not just the normal things like checking your heart rate and ensuring you’ve got no lumps, bumps, or growths. It extends into things like how fast your hair and nails grow, any changes caused by the experiments he does, changes in your natural body scent, and other random things.

Dottore also takes care of any and all medical needs you have, he’s become your personal doctor. Anything and everything you do is under his control, he picks when and how often you sleep, what you eat, how much daylight you get, and what you do on a day to day basis. The best part is you’re too stupid and naive to muster up the courage to say anything.

Pantalone:

This man, in all his wisdom and cash, adores how you let him do anything he wishes with you. You’ve become his little doll to dress up, style, and control. He makes you the perfect little partner, picking out all your outfits, regularly rotating the clothing in your wardrobe with new outfits, he’d be criminal if he let you wear the same thing twice. 

Pantalone takes you everywhere with him, flaunting his perfect little darling to others. He makes sure to use big, extravagant words when talking about you to others so that you don’t understand, it’s usually all good though so no worries. If there is any reason he can’t take you with him, you can expect him to leave a comprehensive list and schedule for you, keeping his control over what you wear even whilst he’s gone.

He uses your stupidity against you, betting things on which of you will be right or if you can answer correctly. You’re wrong every time and he loves it, and yet despite being wrong every time, because you stood no chance at knowing the right answer, you fall right into the same trap over and over again. He just adores you so much, and he’d do anything to keep you by his side, forever.

[clonemando]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

I was tagged in this by @whiskygoldwings and @cacodaemonia this last week but today is my first day off work so I can post.

“Alright shiny, do you have a name? It’s okay if you don’t or can’t remember one. Most of the time here we’ll be using your Ident anyway. Safer that way.” Hound hummed as they walked toward the barracks and Waxer swallowed.  “If I had one before I don’t remember it now sir.” He murmured softly the lie sour on his tongue. Hound patted his shoulder.  “No need for that unless we’re around natborns. The Guard might have to put on a tough act but we’re close when it’s just us. No sirs or captain or any title nonsense. We’re all just clones. Even Fox. You’ll meet him tonight. He always insists on seeing all our new troopers. I’m sure you heard a lot of rumors about us, especially traveling from Kamino with Cody’s miscreants, got any tales you want to share?” He asked and Waxer bit his lip to fight down the bristling at the slight toward his battalion. Hound wasn’t exactly wrong about the rumors anyway.  “That Fox is a vampire that feeds off the blood of his troopers to stay awake longer?” He offered and Hound snickered.  “That’s a good one. Last shiny we got insisted that Fox is actually four different clones who take turns wearing his armor. My favorite still is that Fox is actually the Sith lord in hiding and that he’s using Sith magics to disguise himself as a trooper to access all our secrets.” He said cheerfully and that helped Waxer relax a little as he snorted.  “I heard one where the Guard is all one single hive mind that is all connected to Fox’s brain and that’s how you all work so well together.” Waxer added and Hound laughed.  “That would be really cool actually. I always wondered if the Jedi were like that. Able to talk in their minds and stuff. No, none of that is true. Fox is as basic as the rest of us, he’s just really stubborn and drinks a lot of caff. Like… too much honestly. Our medic cries about it in the mess some days.” He said and Waxer felt himself fully settle. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he had worried it would be. They were still brothers, even if they weren’t the 212th. 

I know it's more than one line but no where seemed good to cut it. This is a little brain worm where Cody sends Waxer to infiltrate the Guard since Fox refuses to answer coms or speak on anything unofficial. Waxer is posing as a reconditioned trooper that the 212th picked up on their way for leave to try to get intel.

Thanks for the tag! Any mutuals or followers are free to consider themselves tagged and please tag me in what you post!

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 7 Ruki ☽ SKiT Dolce・Rejet Shop Tokuten Drama CD ☽ Absurd Lesson ♪

Original title: 理不尽レッスン♪ English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio. CD owned by me.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I reached 1000 followers last week, so here’s a special treat: one of Ruki’s Daylight tokuten CDs, plus a translation which you can read below the cut╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ This was yet another short but sweet one with a surprisingly wholesome message. I hope you enjoy!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 Hey. Have you finally finished getting ready?

[You apologise for taking so long.]

Heh. It’s alright. We still have some time before we have to go to class.

Besides, Kou and the others are still busy preparing.

Have a seat, too. It seems like it’ll take a while longer.

[You sit down.]

I thought I’d prepare tea, so I boiled some water. Would you like some?

[You suggest getting the tea for him.]

No, I’ll pour it for you. I have only just cleaned the kitchen, after all. I would like to have it as tidy as possible before we leave.

[Ruki walks to the counter.]

Come to think of it, they’re being so rowdy that we can hear them all the way from here. Are they bickering again? Kou and Yuma tend to fight over who gets to use the bathroom first, right?

[You confirm his suspicions.]

Hm. So they were, even though that only chips away at the time they actually get to use the bathroom to begin with… 

They never learn, do they?

[Ruki pours the tea.]

Every time we wait for them to get ready, we head out late.

[Ruki brings the tea to you.]

Here’s yours. Be careful not to burn yourself.

We should be able to head out by the time we finish drinking the tea.

[You compliment him on his time management.]

You know I always like to have ample time before going out.

[You tell him that he’s much quicker than you are.]

It’s not as if I’m particularly quick to get ready. The four of you are slow. You always take way too long, even though your routine is the same every day. It’s only school. There is no need for such lengthy preparations.

[You tell Ruki he does much more before class than you do.]

Well, that’s true. I have many things to do, but none of them are major tasks. When you make a habit out of cooking and cleaning, you get the hang of it quickly, and it all goes smoothly before you know it. Even if I actually were to be burdened with more tasks, I would still be done before you guys.

[You ask him why he thinks that.]

It must be because I’m skilled in time management. I plan out all of my tasks for the day in advance. What I am trying to say is: you simply have to calculate the amount of time you need for each of these tasks.

[You tell him you wish you were more like him in that regard.]

Like me, you say?  Well, alright. I will do you a favour and teach you some of the tools of the trade.

[You ask him if that’s alright with him.]

Yes. If you learn to divide your time more effectively, you will have more time to help me out with running the household, right? If we can successfully distribute the household chores, we will both have more free time. I see no disadvantages.

[You tell him you will work hard.]

03:50 That’s the spirit. I wish Kou and the others would follow your example. If you help me out with the chores, I might have some time left to prepare a dessert for you.

[You’re happy about that.]

Heh, you silly girl.  You are much too happy about such trivial things. However, if you are a good student and learn how to manage your time more effectively, I will make whatever you request. Would you like blancmange, panna cotta, or rather pudding?  These are fairly straight-forward desserts, so I could easily make them for you. After all, it’s my job as your master to discipline you. 

[You get flustered.]

You look like your mind is wandering.  I always intend to discipline you thoroughly, but no matter how much time passes, your reaction is always the same. I thought you would have gotten used to it by now, but…

[His remark makes you a little shy.]

You are truly hopeless. Well, all the more reason for me to discipline you. Anyway, we have limited time before we have to go to class, so I should quit the teasing for now. Seeing you so flustered only makes me want to tease you all the more, though.  That’s no good, is it?

[You make a face.]

What, does that displease you? The face you were making earlier told me otherwise. If you want, we could continue this after class. You like it better when I take my sweet time to torment you, right? 

[You keep your mouth shut.]

I will take your silence as a yes.  Well, fine by me. Your face is like an open book, anyway.

06:28 Well, then, it is my duty as your master to teach you what I know. I will explain things in a clear order that will be easy for you to understand, so listen carefully.

[You respond enthusiastically.]

Heh. That’s what I wanted to hear. Let’s start with time management, then. You know most of the things you need to do in a day, right? You must have daily habits and other recurring tasks. You have to fit these tasks together like a puzzle and think about which ones you can carry out at the same time.

[You ask him what he means.]

Right…  For example, I do the dishes while I’m cooking, or I make a side dish(1) while I’m heating up soup. I actively try to perform tasks at the same time whenever possible. What’s important is to not waste time.

[You ask him to elaborate.]

07:07 Well, if you act without using your head, you tend to waste time much more easily. You should make a habit out of acting with intention. If you do that, you will be able to divide your time more effectively in general, not just when getting ready to go out.

[You tell him that Ruki is much better at it than you are.]

It’s not as if I do anything difficult in particular. You can do it too. It just takes practice. First, tell me the things you need to do in a day.

[You tell him.]

Hm. Washing your face and brushing your teeth are things you should do at the sink. It is best to do the various things you need to do in a given place all in succession. Moving from room to room to do something is a good example of wasting time. Are there other things you do near the sink?

[You tell him.]

08:05 I didn’t expect you to have so much to do. So, hair styling and skincare—they each have an order to them too, right? Try to think of whether there are any unnecessary steps in these actions.

[You start listing the steps in your hair care routine, but…]

Wait. You do all that just for your regular hairstyle? I can understand combing your hair, but is applying hair oil and using a hair curler really necessary?

[You nod.]

I see. If you say it’s necessary, then it must be. Looking after your appearance is not a bad thing, after all. But if your hair styling alone consists of so many steps, your skincare routine must have even more.

[You start to tell him, but…]

09:04 No, I’ve heard enough. I understand very well that you need to do many things in order to get ready. Are there any steps in your hair styling and skincare that you could perform at the same time?

[You’re unsure.]

I see.  If that’s the case, then you should try looking to improve elsewhere. But even then…

[You ask him whether something’s wrong.]

No, I’m actually kind of impressed. There is much more to your morning routine than I thought. I knew women always took some time to get ready in the morning, but I did not expect this. As a man, it barely takes any time. To do all of these additional things must take considerable effort. You do all of these steps every day, right?

[You nod.]

I see. That is quite admirable.

[You’re surprised.]

Why are you so surprised?

[You tell him it’s because of his compliment.]

Is it that unusual for me to praise you? As your master, I assumed it was only natural to reward you when you deserve praise, but… It must not have been enough for you. If you wish, I could give you a more obvious reward.

[You get flustered again.]

10:38 Heh. Your cheeks are red.  What did you imagine just now? I figured that it would suffice to pet your head or pamper you from time to time, but to you, that is only a half-hearted reward, isn’t it?

[You deny it.]

Heh. If you shake your head so vigorously, the hairstyle you spent so much time on will go to waste. After all, considering all the time and effort you put into your hair, I should refrain from petting your head, too. I should think of other methods to reward you.

[You’re a little disappointed.]

Heh. No need to be so sad.  I did not say I would never touch you again. I should merely touch you carefully so as to not ruin your hair and makeup.  Besides, we’re only talking about before you get ready, right? When we’re at home, it doesn’t matter how messed up your hair gets…

[Ruki holds you close.]

Next time I reward you, I am sure it will be to your liking. Look forward to it. And from now on, I will factor in the time you need to get ready when we make plans to head out together. Because thanks to you, I fully understand how much effort women put into their appearance.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

1. Honestly I just wrote ‘side dish’ here because I could not decipher for the life of me what word he used instead lol

[tuninghearts]

Finding himself in Lucifer’s bed, Alastor couldn’t help but want a knife to plunge into his heart. It’s embarrassing, and he scowls at his own beating heart’s desires.

Radioapple Week - Day 2

Prompt: Enemies/Pining

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asks.

Was he clueless? Is he stupid?

“Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong? I’m in your bed,” Alastor yells. The harshness in his tone was not expected from him—it’s probably the hangover striking him, looping coils around his throat until he could barely decipher what was the crippled remains of last night and what was truly contained in the locked portion of his soul.

“My gosh, can you calm down? You woke up next to me, there’s nothing we can do about it to change the fact that this happened, can it? We can’t rewind time, can we?”

“You—”

“Dad?” Knocking reverberates across the room, Carlie’s voice following along. “Have you seen Alastor? He has been gone all night.”

Lucifer raised a finger to his lips. Poised. It lowers so words can bounce off of his tongue when his lips open. “I haven’t, sorry, I think he is probably downtown, passed out on the streets.”

“Everyone in the hotel is searching for him. In the room, around Hell, even in Husk’s bar.”

“Listen, I haven’t seen him anywhere.”

“I’m worried. What if he’s hurt?”

“He’s the Radio Demon, Charlie, what can hurt him, honestly?” He laughs, nonchalantly, as if Alastor wasn’t dressed in his own, stupid, sheathlike clothes that he had thrown at him. “Come on, he’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, but please come and help me search for him.”

“I will, don’t worry about it. Now, please, go with everyone else to do the searching, since you think Alastor really needs it.”

“Please come shortly.”

“I will, I will.”

When the sound of footsteps descend down the hallway, Alastor speaks in hushed mumbles: “You didn’t tell her that I was with you?”

“Of course not, that would be embarrassing.”

“Then why did you agree to it before?”

“I—” Lucifer sighs, as the blanket was fiddled between his fingers. It curls and overlaps over them in gentle waves before it’s pinched in his fingertips. “I wanted you to come and stay with me.”

A noise was made in the depths of his heart—it’s irritating, it yearns for him, but he knew that it’s never a good time to try and form close bonds, for even with Charlie he does his best to keep a safe distance from her. A bond, knitted into his soul, forever there to envelop him with kindness, security, safety.

He scowls at the thought, scowls at Lucifer. In his post-drunk daze, he doesn’t think before he speaks because his mind can’t form coherent thoughts. “I’m leaving.”

“What?” Lucifer was shocked when Alastor stood up from the bed.

“I said I’m leaving.” His suit was picked from the ground.

“How could you leave so suddenly? We… We were doing just fine…” He trails off, and all Alastor wanted was to have him in his grasp, wanting his mouth to flow like a river, because his words were held close to his heart, either as a comforting reassurance or deadly daggers.

Alastor, as always, chooses the latter, because he can never accept that flowers can grow out of another person, delicate petals for his hand to hold. He always somehow finds a way to rip them off of their pistil, and so, he keeps his people as weapons rather than a garden, for that was more manageable for him.

“I just wanted you to be safe, I wanted to make sure that you didn’t end up as a corpse on the dirty streets. Can you be grateful?”

“I would be grateful if you chose anything else other than staying with you.”

“You chose to come here.”

“I was drunk, okay?” All the air rushed out from his lungs when he shouts, as he was rendered too weak to defend himself. “I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking right.”

The cries of a fallen angel were heard behind him, and it burns; he’s lost Heaven, and he’s losing Alastor too. It shatters him to the core, but he tapes it, fakes not giving any sort of sympathy for Lucifer. His eyes fall to the crumpled clothes, squished in his fist. He gazed at the clothes that were on him—though he was strangled with cotton, it was Lucifer’s clothing, it had a tinge of speciality.

Alastor despises how it makes him feel inside. A putty of warmth.

“Take your clothes back. They are too tight for me.” Alastor pulled the shirt over his head, and the shorts were on the floor.

“You slept in those. I think you were just fine in those.” The hardness in his voice, burying layers and layers upon cracking and wavering on his voice, hurts him more than when Adam swung his weapon at him, fatally wounding him until he had to dissolve into the murky darkness and flee from the battlefield.

“I slept in them because I was too tired to think of anything other than sleep.”

“Oh…” Lucifer trails off, as the clothes were placed beside him. His voice was shaky, unable to creep past his vocal cords, and it tears Alastor apart. Despite this, he shoves himself into his suit, wanting to disappear from Lucifer’s eyes.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.” He slips into his boots—they were sweaty on his feet, as he wanted to curl into the bedsheets with Lucifer, doze off with him until the afternoon sparks dread within him, but he knew that if he were to boil in the pit that he lowered himself into, it would only make his feelings worse.

“I…” Lucifer starts, before he shakes his head. Messy hair curls over his forehead. “Nevermind. Don’t worry about me.” As he walks to the door and twists it open, Lucifer speaks up one more time. “Does this mean nothing between us has changed?”

He pauses in the doorframe.

His lips purse with spikes protruding from them.

I wish it did.

“You’re stupid to think that anything has ever changed.” He spits out poison, and slams the door shut, as he wanders off into his crazed mind, and down the hallway.

~~~

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

[teaandtime]

Creloise University AU

this is a excerpt from God, I'm Actually Invested (how did that happen?) which I have posted over on AO3!

Eloise shoved her silenced phone into the deep recesses of her tote bag; in the few days that had passed since her concussion and the failed Bridgerton sibling dinner, Penelope Featherington had been relentless in trying to contact her. She had emailed, texted, rang, messaged and even went so far as creating new social media accounts (which were promptly blocked) and she had also enlisted Eloise's siblings for help. Francesca had remained steadfastly loyal but both Daphne and Benedict had messaged her in an effort to convince her to talk to Penelope. It had been a nightmare trying to avoid her, the other day she even spotted the redhead waiting outside her lecture. Luckily she had been able to spot her in time and leave out of the back door but it had made traversing campus increasingly hard. So this morning, Eloise was taking a much needed break. She had no classes on Wednesdays, so she had gone for a morning walk upon which she had discovered a busy little coffee shop in a part of town she’d yet to explore. Here she had ordered an oat chai latte and pain au chocolat, food and drink secured, she managed to snag a corner table from a couple who were just leaving- no mean feat it seemed, for the shop was full to the rafters- and pulled out her book. 

It had been barely a few minutes before she was interrupted.

“Bridgerton, who knew you had such taste?”

She looked up and was greeted with the sight of Cressida Cowper, standing over her table and gesturing to the book she was holding. Eloise placed it down in front of her, eyebrows raised in disbelief, partially because it seemed like Cressida Cowper was deliberately speaking to her and also because- “You’ve read it?”

“Is that so hard to believe? I read.” Cressida’s eyes narrowed over her takeaway paper cup.

“Well- I guess I didn't know you liked reading.” How could she know? Cressida didn’t like her. Usually she went out of her way to avoid Eloise and now for some unknown reason here she was striking up pleasant- or at least something adjacent to pleasant- conversation. 

“Did you know she went here?” Cressida ploughed on, “To Cambridge?” 

“I did, and if I wasn't reading this for the third time I might be mad at you for spoiling it.” Eloise couldn’t help but jab, her bafflement growing when Cressida boldly took the empty seat across from her. What is happening right now?

“It’s a wonderful book, isn't it? I rather believe every woman should read it-”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Eloise, who was now briefly entertaining the idea she had somehow wandered into a parallel universe, cut in, “But do you want something?”

Cressida glanced quickly over her shoulder, before leaning forward and hissing, “Can you at least pretend to be interested in my conversation?”

Eloise leaned in and hissed back, “Cressida, I really have no idea what's going on, so unless you wish to enlighten me-”

“The man by the counter in the purple jacket was hitting on me the whole time I waited for my tea, so I told him you were here for me.” The words tumbled from Cressida’s mouth almost as if she were embarrassed by them, “Please just let me sit here until he leaves, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Eloise glanced over towards the counter and sure enough, a man in a purple jacket was just picking up his coffee. He had an unpleasant, greasy look about him and Eloise took an immediate dislike to the man- though to be fair that wasn’t unusual for Eloise when encountering men. 

“Why didn’t you just tell him to bugger off?” She asked, looking back at Cressida, “Or hit him with your-” Eloise made a face and brought her fingers up by her eyes to mime tiny little laser beams coming from them,”-laser vision.” Eloise had watched grown men wither under Cressida’s glare more than once at many of the weird, stuffy, old fashioned events their parents insisted on dragging them along to. It was perhaps the single faucet of Cressida she actually held a teeny little bit of admiration for. 

Cressida rolled her eyes, “Because I kind of know him. He’s the son of a business associate of my father’s.” 

“Right.” Eloise conceded, perhaps a teeny bit disappointed she wouldn't have the pleasure of  witnessing Cressida’s glare causing Mr Purple Jacket’s balls to back crawl up inside him. 

Mr Purple Jacket took that exact opportunity to grace them with his highly unwanted presence, “Ladies,” He arrived in front of their table and nodded in what he probably thought was a gentlemanly manner, though it came off quite smarmy in Eloise’s opinion. “Cressida, I know you are meeting with a friend,” He nodded at Eloise, who thought he was doing a rather swell impression of those little bobble headed dolls truckers often stuck to their dashboards. “But I was hoping, before I go that I might get-”

“I’m sorry but who are you?” Eloise (who sensed where this was going) cut him off abruptly.

“My apologies, I am Roland Burbank, an acquaintance of Cressida’s.” He offered his hand to Eloise, who left it to hang in the air until he gave up and lowered it to wipe his palm nervously on his jeans. “I was hoping to-”

Eloise cut him off again, “I’m sure you were, but you see I was rather hoping you wouldn’t.” 

“Oh?” Mr Purple Jacket looked rather taken aback and Eloise continued before he could try to embarrass himself further.

“As you can see, Cressida is otherwise occupied-”

“Eloise!” Cressida’s quiet reprimand held undertones of shock but lacked any true vexation. Eloise took Cressida’s hand from where it was resting on the table and squeezed it gently in an effort to communicate to the other girl she needn't worry.

“-so I think it’s probably best you give up now, don’t you?” She finished.

“My apologies, I didn't realise-” Mr Purple Jacket stumbled over his words as he nodded yet again. Perhaps he could take up a career as one of those dolls, Eloise thought as she watched him hastily begin his retreat. At the very least he could earn a fortune doing impressions at birthday parties.  

“Lovely to meet you, Ronald!” Eloise called after him as he hurried out of the coffee shop. They managed to contain their laughter until the door swung shut on his purple back. “Honestly the audacity men have,” Eloise shook her head when they were able to catch their breath again. 

They sat for a moment, each nursing their drink, before Cressida gestured to the book, “It really is a favourite of mine,” she said, “right at the end, when her aunt tells her her grandfather cancelled his plans in case she came by, and then that she's counting the hours until Tara arrives- it makes me cry every time.” 

Eloise was taken aback by the admission, “Me too.” She admitted.

“Thank you, for getting rid of Roland.” Cressida had pulled the cardboard sleeve off her tea and was slowly pulling apart the layers, “I was afraid if I was frank with him he might go crying to his father and that it could affect my fathers business. Though, I suppose he still could.”

Eloise waved her concern away, “If he does, just blame me.” 

“Well I don’t think I’ll have to worry about him again, I think my father told his I was ‘available’.” She shuddered slightly and began shredding the cardboard.

“And you’re not?” Eloise asked, picking up her mug.

“Certainly not for him.” 

“A tragedy, really, you could have had the most beautiful maroon babies.” 

Cressida threw a wadded up piece of cardboard at her head and Eloise ducked out of the way, laughing. 

[wipbigbang]

2024 Reverse WIP Big Bang Schedule & FAQ!

Schedule

All times are by 11:59pm PST. Convert time zones.

Sign-ups Begin- June 3rd Sign-ups Close- June 30th Check In #1 - July 1st Thumbnails Due - July 22nd Fic Claims Begin – July 29th Fic Claims End – August 7th Rough Drafts Due- August 15th Posting Claims Begin- August 23rd Posting Claims Ends- September 1st Final Drafts/Fic Due- September 7th Posting Starts- September 8th

FAQ

What is the Reverse WIP Big Bang? Good question! This is a Big Bang with one goal in mind: to clean out your fanart/original art drafts folder. Any art that is of a digital or traditional means as well as fanvideos are eligible. If you’ve started word on an art/fanvid project and want an impetus to finish, maybe with a fic written in honor of it, now is your chance!

Do I need a Livejournal/Dreamwidth/AO3/etc. account to participate? No! You don’t have to have an account on anything to participate, though you will need to have somewhere to post your finished work. Having one or more accounts will help for you to follow what is going on with the bang (we crosspost to Dreamwidth and Tumblr and heavily use our Discord server at the moment), but they are not required to participate. You can always leave comments anonymously or with an opensource ID.

How many art pieces can we sign up for? We absolutely don’t mind multiple sign-ups. As this is a trial, run, however, we ask that you limit yourself to three unfinished projects that are at least 10% complete upon sign-up. We just ask that when you sign up with more than one art piece/fanvid you give each project a unique user ID (please do not use the same ID for all your art...it’s important to have different IDs for the check-ins).

Will I get emails about the bang? We do send out some emails, mostly for thumbnails and fic claims and to ensure communication between authors and artists, but please do NOT rely on getting an email to remind you of due dates. We currently do not keep an updated email list of participants, so we only send individual emails as needed rather than mass emails.

However, email is the fastest way to communicate with the mods. If you have any questions or are having trouble communicating with your artist/author, please do email us! We will do our best to respond quickly.

What do you mean by 10% done to enter? This is a WIP Big Bang, therefore we ask you to have at least 10% of your art started/drafted when you enter. It’s up to you to determine what 10% is to your project; unlike the regular WIPBB we have no hard and fast guidelines for this part.

What about art that is already posted somewhere in part? Do those qualify for the bang? It's okay if you have posted a WIP sketch or an outline of a fanvideo, we just require you to refrain from posting more until posting begins here. All we ask is that you not post any public updates to the project(s) you’re entering until September 1st. We don’t want you to lose kudos and comments and likes so don’t worry about pulling the art down, just hold off on updates for now.

Is there a minimum that needs to be met as an artist? Nope! When the art is done, that’s it! You’ve finished it and that’s the important part. If you’re a writer, however, your writing needs to be at least 750 words.

Is there anything not allowed? We ask that if you have nudity you post a link to the art on Tumblr/post it behind a cut on Dreamwidth. Other than that, anything is included, including original art.

I have a project I did a few years ago, but it needs a major revision. Is that something I could use for WIP Big Bang? The entire project has been posted, but only on one platform, and it would be redone for the Reverse WIPBB. That’s perfectly fine, as long as it’s a mostly/completely revised project when you finish it for the Reverse WIPBB.

What's the etiquette around OC-centric art? Ones that are set in a well known fandom and use several characters, but still lean a lot on original characters? Are they discouraged, or fine? Those are absolutely fine! You just need to be aware that an author may need more than just the art to incorporate the OC into the fic, if you opt to have fiction written for your art (as with WIPBB, opting in for the fic is an optional thing; if you don’t want fic for your project, skip turning in a thumbnail)

What are 'check-ins’? These are a way for us to see what you've been up to and for you to make sure you're still on track. It will give you a little nudge/reminder if you need it, but they are not compulsory. Basically a form is posted that you fill out with your user ID (unique for each art project) and a checkbox to let us know you’re still participating, plus a section for any notes for the mods.

How are the check in IDs used? They are solely for the mods organizational purposes. Each ID being for a separate art project allows us to keep all the information you submit during check-ins and for snippets in one line on our spreadsheet. You don’t have to share your check in IDs with anyone else if you don’t want to.

How much progress should authors be making between each checkpoint? (Percentage-wise from our estimated completion, I guess?) As this first round is a shortened trial run, you should try and have at least 33% - 50% done by check in #2, depending on when you signed up

What are the thumbnail requirements? Basically it should be a rough outline of the completed piece or at least enough to show the intent of your art project so a writer can decide if they want to write something for it. It can be a video clip for fanvideos or an actual piece of art for digital/traditional art/ Along with the snippets, we will send your writer the basic art info (fandom, characters involved, warnings, etc.) and your email, so the two of you can collaborate more if you would both like.

What are the rough drafts requirements? For the rough drafts, the project should be at least 75% complete. You will not have to turn them in to us, just assure us that you are at that point. Anything less is at the discretion of the mods and those authors should speak to one of the mods asap.

What is, and do I need, a beta if I’m a writer making fic for art? A beta is basically a person who goes over your work to make sure that there are no spelling/grammatical errors and they can even be of assistance in helping you with story lines, etc. It is highly recommended that a beta looks over your work before posting. If you are having trouble finding a beta, try this post.

Where can I post my fic/art? Stories and art can be posted to your own personal journal, Tumblr, ff-net, AO3, or wherever you like. For those of you with AO3 accounts, we will set up a collection that will go live on the day of the posting specifically for the Reverse WIPBB fic/art. If you don’t currently have an AO3 account but would like one, you can contact the mods for an invitation code to see if they have any available. You can also add yourself to the AO3 Invites Request queue.

What does posting look like? Do we have to post the whole thing on the day, or can we stretch it out between when posting starts and our date? For most projects, posting to AO3/FF.net/other places will be allowed to start in September (on the 1st) and you can stretch it out as many posts as you want as long as the complete art project/fic is up by your posting date (and posting dates go from September 8th to November 15th with two weeks for emergency posting). We’re only asking for a 750 word minimum work from any author who chooses art this round, as there’s only about a one month turnaround from fic claims ending to final drafts being due, but we want to work with writers to give them ample time to post the story up to their posting date if they write something longer.

Now, as for posting to the communities, you get to choose which day your link to the story and bragging rights are posted, and as I said, we have a range of dates from September 8th to November 15th with four stories posting a day for both WIPBB and Reverse WIPBB (both big bangs will use the same form to claim posting dates). If for some reason you miss your posting date, you have until November 30th to post to the community, during the two weeks of emergency posting, with a possible extension after that due to the amount of participants needing to post later. So hopefully there should be plenty of time to get a longfic up and posted to the website of your choice and our BB as well as the art project that inspired it.

How do I know when to post? Posting will be tiered; you'll each get your own posting date that you and your artist will decide on together. There will probably be four fics/art slots a day posting per day between September 8th and November 30th. The post with date claims will go up on August 23rd and you'll have to choose your date by September 1st. Posting will be for both big bangs at the same time, but posting can probably extend to December 31st if needed due to the amount of participants.

Posting has to be finished by your chosen posting date to the comm. One of the things we're hoping to do with the posted dates is to give everybody on the comm a little bragging time in the spotlight. You know, "this art project was incomplete for this long, but I finished this sucker." If you don't have time to post your bragging rights to the communities on your chosen posting date, you can queue up a post ahead of time and we can post it on the date you picked or you can email us your bragging rights and we can post by proxy for you. Either way works for us. Final versions of the fics will be due on the chosen posting date to the comm.

What am I posting to the Dreamwidth/Tumblr community if I’m posting the art elsewhere? You’ll be posting what we call bragging rights. It’s a small form you fill out and post to the community with a link to your fic (we’ll enable moderated posting to the Tumblr, Livejournal and Dreamwidth communities for members on August 8th). We will post a template for posting artwork and stories to the comm closer to the posting date.

Is there a minimum/maximum requirement for my fic? There is no strict maximum, but we do ask authors to remember that the artists are making a project that takes time to finalize and your writing should reflect that. You can do anything you like, including fanfic or original fic if it’s an original artwork, but it must be at least 750 words. We also ask that when you are in contact with the author, you work with them to see if there is anything specific they would like (i.e. if they have a certain plot idea in mind, if there are certain other characters not in the art they don’t mind being included, etc.). The fic is your work, but having ideas doesn't hurt!

What are 'fic claims'? The claims are when the thumbnails and the anonymous summaries of the art go up for writers to choose from. Writer sign-ups and fic claims are the same thing; we use one form for both things, specifically for the reverse bang, and that way the authors don’t have to sign up for an event they may not end up participating in. It is based on a 'first come, first served' basis and artists may choose up to three potential pieces of art (in case their first choice is unavailable). If there are more art pieces than writers, there will be a second round of claims wherein artists may choose a second story to work with.

As this is a trial run, we are not guaranteeing fic for all unclaimed stories, but I will try.

If an art project up for claiming is rated explicit (R, NC-17, etc.), please only claim the story if you are over 18 years of age. Some artists may be uncomfortable working with underage authors on explicit works. We do not verify ages in any way for the bang, so this is solely on the honor system.

What do I do if I have problems or concerns about my author/artist? Sometimes authors and artists do not get along and this may cause problems with working together. If this happens to b the case with you, please email the mods and we will try to do what we can so that everyone has a chance to have fun at Reverse WIP Big Bang!

If you have not heard from your author/artist in some time after trying to contact them, you can reach out to us via email and we will try to get in touch with them for you.

Can I get an extension? Community extensions may be given in the event that the majority of the authors/artists need one. They may also be given individually under certain circumstances, but this must be discussed with the mods and will only be a short extension for posting. If you are certain that you won’t be able to finish your art project in time, please let us know by July 13th.

Can I swap out an art project if my muse abandons it again? When you sign up, you give us the information on the potential art project(s) you want to create. If, say, one project isn’t working but one you didn’t sign up for is, you can switch them out while letting the mods know if you need to change a user ID you used. It is absolutely okay to switch art projects all the way up until thumbnails are due if you would like it to be considered for fic claims; otherwise, if you are not submitting the art project for a fic claim, you have until final drafts are due to swap out and finish a project. Just drop an email to the mods at wipbigbang@gmail.com with the new information (characters, fandom, etc) and if you want a new sign in ID or plan to use the same one for the art project you’re replacing it with.

Can I drop out? We have high hopes that everybody who signs up can actually finish the round and share in the joy of the reveal with us, but real life can unfortunately get in the way and we completely understand! If you feel like you just cannot finish in time and no amount of assistance from us can help you, just let us know by August 13th (if at all possible).

Is it possible to be banned? We do have a banned users list. We hope to use this to encourage participants who are having issues to communicate with the mods. We want to help you! The way the ban works is that participants, either authors and artists, will be banned for dropping out without notifying a mod. This means that anyone who has not posted or talked to a mod by the time the posting period ends will be banned. Dropping out is not in and of itself a banning offense, so please do not panic if you have to drop out! We understand that there are many reasons you may need to drop, and we want to work with you.

Bans will last one round or until the issue is resolved, whichever comes first. To resolve a ban, authors will have to finish and post the story they signed up with and artists will have to finish and post the art for the story they claimed. Three bans will result in a permanent ban from the bang.

Are we allowed to participate without joining the Discord? Absolutely! The Discord server is optional, as just another way to interact with your fellow writers and get updates on important dates. It’s not mandatory you join, however.

I was just wondering if there’s any way to enter the bang anonymously? Like would it be okay to put our work in an anonymous collection on ao3 or something? Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way for that to work. The collection that we use is moderated but it’s not anonymous, and there are the bragging posts that you post on your posting day, which you would have your username on whichever platform you use.

I was just wondering whether I'm sworn to secrecy on which art projects I'll be finishing up, or if I can shout it out to the world? No one is sworn to secrecy once they’ve signed up (aside from posting new updates to the art project that’s already up somewhere…we ask that you refrain from doing that until at least September 1st)! The Discord server is specifically for chatting with your fellow authors and artists, if you need to vent or need a boost of conficence or just want to brag, but you can also do that in other social media spaces like Tumblr or Facebook.

I have a question/concern that’s not mentioned here. If you need help, you can always contact a mod and we will do our best to make sure that you get your story/art finished. The best and fastest method of contact is through our email, wipbigbang@gmail.com.

[thezombieprostitute]

Mace + 38?

...because they're running out of time.

Ask is based on this post.

A/N: My brain went a little weird on this one. I've never written this kind of fantasy setting before. Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Word Count: < 1k

Warnings: Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Mace was always a bit of an oddball in his village. While his people were naturally afraid of the rough seas and violent tides, he found them calming. When others had the sense of mind to stay away from the shores and piers, he was walking along them, breathing deep and enjoying sounds, smells, feel of the wind and sea creating their chaos.

He couldn't explain why enjoyed it so he never bothered to try. Some people would whisper that there was selkie blood in his family history. That his great-grandfather had caught himself a selkie and Mace had inherited some of her wild nature. Mace never cared for those rumors. Every selkie story he'd ever heard involved a poor soul being trapped by a human and never allowed freedom. His memories of his great-grandparents were scarce but by all accounts they had a happy marriage.

So he refused to give them credence, refused to let the rumors get to him, and just let himself enjoy the things he enjoyed. No need to overthink it or let others affect the calm he felt during these times.

One evening Mace went walking further than usual. He'd gotten into an argument with the town elders, trying to convince them of the need to incorporate greenhouses to keep a steady food supply for their growing village. They kept arguing that current preparation and reliance on fishing was enough. When they refused to listen to the data he'd collected he lost his temper and ended up punching one of them.

Thankfully the walk and the waves were helping. And then he heard the giggling, laughing screams. Mace knew there were no other villages nearby and no one else in his own village would be out here. Curious, he walked carefully towards the sounds.

That's how he found the three women, naked, swimming in the rough waters and laughing. As his shock fades, he finds himself smiling, mesmerized by the women and their laughter. It takes a while for him to realize his presence might scare them so he turns to walk away but trips over something.

He looks at his feet and is dumbfounded to see three sealskins. Certain that it couldn't be what he thought, Mace ran and hid. He needed to make sure. He watched and waited for the women to leave, to not grab the sealskins. So as not to be caught, he hid himself behind the trees so he would only be able to hear them. Occasionally peeking out to see confirm they were still swimming.

As the sun was reaching the horizon, he heard footsteps approaching. Carefully peering out from behind the tree he saw Harvey, another man from his village who was a strong candidate for leadership in the village. Thinking he was looking for him, Mace headed towards Harvey but stopped short when he saw Harvey pick up one of the sealskins and grin.

“Harvey? What are you doing?”

The other man turned in surprise and tried to run but Mace was too fast. He caught him and pulled him into a hold.

“Again, what are you doing, Harvey?”

“They're selkies,” Harvey confessed. “My grandfather told me about this beach. Said it's how he got himself a wife. Figured I'd do the same.”

“You can't be serious,” Mace scoffed.

“It's true! I know it sounds crazy but they're actually selkies!”

“No,” Mace scolded. “You can't seriously expect me to believe this is how you want to get yourself a wife!”

“What? It's not like they're real people,” Harvey scoffed. “Are you upset because you're one of them? Well guess what, I'm descended from them, too! It's okay!”

Mace adjusts his hold so that he's choking Harvey. “Drop the sealskin. Go home. And never come to this beach again.”

“You don't have the right! I've got the pull of the entire village. If I tell them you've threatened me, you'll be kicked out.”

“At least I won't be a monster,” Mace growled. He tightened his grip until Harvey finally dropped the skin. When he did, Mace practically threw the man in the direction of the village. “I'll be watching you,” he vowed, his voice tight with menace. Harvey gave him a sneer but ran back to the village.

Behind him he hears, “well that was very brave of you.” He turns around and sees one of the women he'd been watching. As a show of good faith he steps away from the sealskin. She quickly grabs it up, “I only have a minute to get this on before the sun goes down.” Grabbing the front of Mace's shirt she pulls him towards her and gives him a deep kiss. “Next time we'll talk.”

She turns and runs back to the water, joining the other two and quickly putting on her sealskin. The three seals swim away from the beach as the sun sets and Mace knows his life has changed forever.

Tagging @alicedopey; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[binders-and-beanies]

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[chiritori]

i have worms in my brain ☹️

[arklay]

WIP DAY.

tagged by @girlbosselrond @morvaris @aartyom @risingsh0t @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @indorilnerevarine & @denerims over the past month! sorry it's taken me so long to get to anything at all, i'm sure you guys have heard me address it enough, but thank you all so much for continuing to tag me in things while i've been inactive ♡

tagging @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @florbelles @jendoe @lightwardens @liurnia @nokstella @nuclearstorms @shadowsofrose @shellibisshe @steelport @swordcoasts @wrymbloods @voerman & all of those who tagged me again cause i'm so behind + anyone else who'd like to share anything they're working on, not just writing! ♡

i haven't written anything since the last wip game i did, but i started trying to put diana's timeline together at the start of january, so i mean... i'll show that instead. as you can see, fatigue hasn't let me do much with it even though i've got all of her timeline already done and strewn about all over the place.

started with 1995 onwards cause it was originally going to be an ewskers timeline situation, but then wanted to include all of her backstory so i went back to the start and still have the late 80s and early 90s to get through before then, but yeah :]

it's going to include like all little moments i've thought of between the ewskers just for me and placing them on the timeline, so you can imagine how long this is going to get if i have to go to 2021 for village... like just 1996-1998 is going to be so much... she's very special to me if you couldn't tell already lmaoo

never sharing this though, it's just for me, and like will help for when i do her timeline page (more in-depth version of what's on her oc page) to just run through canon events and brief descriptions and whatnot. you understand.

everything is blurred out besides 1995 ewskers momence and the years, just cause like idk her i feel weird sharing her in-depth backstory unless it's in dms or something, just cause there's lots going on there and yeah. things. idk

i also made a carrd for twt if you wanna have a look at that :] there's some cheeky subtle things with the two resi items i used as pics hehe

actually, you know what, i'll give a lil bit from where i left of with that rewrite anyways, even though it's been months since i wrote it. but why not

Wesker left a fleeting kiss behind her ear then reached around her and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more. He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it. He had quite the knack for handling her just the way she wanted.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

i dont know if im still just fucking reeling and riding the extreme emotional high that the david kaufman voicelines gave me. but i think pd just bumped up to being my favorite jrwi campaign. like it was suuuuch a close second behind riptide for so long. and while i do love riptide very dearly and it has a really really specific special place in my brain. god fucking damn it i havent been this winded and weepy and emotional over a season finale in such a long time