#late cause things have been exhausting lately

[intoxicating-goddess]

TW - intox, somno, cnc, forced breeding

We're talking on a video call like we usually do in the evenings. I'm smoking a bowl to help wind down for the night. When I finish, you suggest I might want to do another. I've been really stressed out lately, it'd be helpful to have a little more, you tell me. I have been stressed lately, why not? I fill another bowl half way, but you convince me to make it another full one. After I'm done the second bowl, you can see how faded I am. I tell you that the weed is hitting me really hard and I think I'm gonna go lie down. You wish me well and say goodnight. I stumble through the house in a stoned haze, eventually making it into bed. I drowsily strip myself of my clothes before rolling over and falling asleep. I'm too deep in slumber to hear the door unlock. I gave you a spare key for emergencies, after all. You creep into my bedroom and see my naked body sprawled across the bed. You quietly take off your clothes and climb on top of me. Kissing your way down my back while running your hands all over my limp body. Feeling up my ass and tits and then finally, my pussy. I let out soft moans in my sleep. As you rub my clit and fondle my ass, I start to become wet. You then line yourself up with my slick entrance and ram your entire cock inside me. I wake with a scream, a concoction of panic and pleasure. As you begin violently thrusting, I try to get my bearings. My head is so dizzy and my body is so heavy. I let out a feeble scream as I try to resist, but it's no use. My body is far to weak and I can't put up a fight. I am pinned in place by the weight of your body on top of me. I have no idea who is inside me, but I can't seem to focus on anything but how good it feels. You lean down on top of me and begin grabbing at my breast. You pinch my nipple and I can't help but let out a moan. You chuckle softly between grunts, you know a filthy whore like me likes being used. Your thrusts are so hard and deep that it doesn't take long for me to cum on your cock. You continue to fuck me for what feels like hours. I am so out of it that I have no concept of time. I eventually let myself drown in the pleasure. It doesn't matter who is fucking me, the only thing that matters is how good it feels. After you've lost track of how many times you've made me to cum, you feel yourself get close. Your thrusts become faster and faster. You pull my hips hard against you, forcing your cock as deep into my pussy as possible. With a loud grunt, you let your load out inside me. You pull out and let my hips go, causing me to slump onto the bed. You watch as your seed seeps out of my throughly used pussy. You then put your clothes back on and leave, locking the door behind you. I lay in the wet patch knowing I should feel mortified, but instead I feel euphoric. Having my rapists seed pouring from my violated pussy turns me on all the more. It's not long before the exhaustion and intoxication lull me back into a deep sleep. I sleep well knowing my only purpose is to be a good cocksleeve. It doesn't matter if I'm conscious or not.

[merbear25]

Spending the weekend at a haunted B&B

You wondered why the room was so cheap, but you two have been wanting to take a weekend for yourselves, so you hurried up and booked it. With the odd sounds that travel through the halls in the middle of the night, you and your man are in for an interesting time

CW: SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, some humor and fluff, Usopp crying.

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp

Luffy: He took some convincing to take this relaxing weekend. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend more one on one time with you, but he assumed that there wouldn’t be a whole lot to do. Even though he had his reservations, he did what he did best: finding the bright side to things. He’d be with you, which always made things better.

On the first night, you both fell asleep rather quickly—exhausted from your journey and wanting to sleep off the comatose inducing quantities of food. However, when the clock ticked into the late hours of the night, strange creeks sounded down the hall. With each one creeping closer to your room, you were the first one to wake to them. You nudged Luffy awake, telling him your suspicions.

Groaning at first, he absentmindedly shooed you away. Through his sleepy eyes, he saw the bedroom door inch open, immediately jolting him awake. Charging at the door, he abruptly swung it open. However, there was no one waiting for him to confront. Taking a step out in the corridor, you urged him to come back to bed and that it must have just been a trick his mind was playing on him.

With the disembodied murmurs brushing past your ears, shivers cascaded down your spine. However, the thrill of mystery was ignited within Luffy, letting the spark of adventure light your way through the remainder of your time spent there. After all, you needed to make the most of the weekend if you were going to unlock some of the wonder this place had to offer.

Zoro: He wouldn’t mind taking this weekend up at the B&B but don’t expect him to hold off on his training. That being said, there was a part of him that was looking forward to the facilities this place had to offer. Being able to unwind after each session held its own appeal and spending that time with you made it all the bit sweeter—even if he didn’t always say it.

Little things started happening after you entered your room: flickering lights in the bathroom and cold spots, neither of which were cause for alarm. With the sounds of hushed laughter coming from down the hall, you paid little mind to the minor inconveniences. Without giving these much thought, your first night blanketed you both. 

Although your dreams had a hold on you, the laughter from before infiltrated them. Waking both of you up, Zoro huffed at how inconsiderate they were being. Throwing his sheets off, the bathroom door slammed shut, causing you to jolt up in bed.

Exchanging puzzling looks, you trailed behind Zoro to investigate. Before opening the door, you paused, straining your ears to catch any sign of life on the other side. When the floorboards groaned, Zoro gave you a smirk. There was no way you were going to chicken out, so together you journeyed out into the darkness ready for just about anything, whether it was in your room or outside waiting for you.

Sanji: He was the one who suggested spending more alone time together, so when you brought up the B&B he was over the moon for the idea. Having a lovely, romantic weekend with just the two of you was all that he could ask for. Unable to contain himself, he began planning out how you’d spend your time there. With so much effort put in, you were truly looking forward to doing each one.

Everything was seen through rose tinted glasses: the antique furniture and the eccentric wallpaper—it was all perfect. As he was unpacking and going on about how excited he was, you went to check out the bathroom. A tiny spider crawled along the basin of the sink and - not wanting to call attention to it - you swept it on a piece of paper and tossed it out the window.

After having completed a few of his events, you fell asleep, breathing soundly as the moonlight casted through the curtains. When the time reached just after midnight, an alarming thud roused Sanji awake. Luckily, you were still sound asleep, although you stirred a bit under the covers. It sounded as if it came from the bathroom. Despite not wanting to wake you, the weight being lifted off the mattress drew you out of your fleeting dream.

Asking him what was wrong, he assured you that everything was fine. Watching him, you could see the apprehension in his step. A sense of unease painted the room the closer Sanji inched towards the bathroom. Bursting in, he promptly flipped the switch ready to tussle anything that’d dare bring you harm. 

Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he peered over his shoulder to give you the thumbs up. However, an eight-legged creature had found its way on his shoulder, resulting in an ear piercing shriek. Without knowing the full context, you screamed in both confusion and worry as your man came sprinting out of the bathroom, eventually shouting that there was a spider on him.

Usopp: With little to no convincing, he was packed and ready to go before you even had the chance to secure the booking. He adored spending time with you, but there was something special about taking a weekend get-away that made it that much more exciting. Looking up what the area had to offer, you both felt hyped about the trip.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the place. It wasn’t that there was anything fundamentally wrong with it, but it had a ‘house at the top of the hill’ vibe to it—chilling in some unexplainable way. Even if he had his reservations about it, you looked genuinely happy with it, so he made an attempt to push his doubts aside.

With the bed being surprisingly comfortable, you both drifted off to sleep quickly. As the clock in your room ticked closer to the witching hour, groans sounded throughout the room. Shivering, Usopp was the first to wake. He could see his breath as he sat up looking around the room, trying to figure out if there was a draft coming through somewhere.

The chilling atmosphere crept onto you, nibbling at your exposed skin. Rousing awake, you asked him to close the window. When he didn’t answer, you rolled over to face him and were met with him frozen in fear. Sitting up next to him, you gently touched him asking what was wrong.

As tears trickled down his face, you cautiously looked in the same direction as him. “Don’t you see it?” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Even though you saw a faint outline of something, you told him it was just his imagination partly because you were trying to convince yourself of the same. Although you were brave at times, his fear was wearing off on you. Wanting to prove to him that there was nothing there, you quickly leaned over to your bedside table to turn on the light.

A sharp and panicked gasp escaped him just before the light flickered on. Peering around the room, relief found the both of you. You slept with the lights on the rest of the night.

[johaerys-writes]

Chapter 1: Restless Sinner

Read on AO3

“What’s the verdict, Chiron?”

Chiron squints at the horizon, at the sun that’s dipping slowly behind the golden foothills of the western mountain range, red hot and heavy. The weather in the valley can be unpredictable, and it has always fallen to Achilles’ wise tutor to observe the signs and patterns in the sky, the clouds, the birds. 

“A long, hot summer,” he says. “Dry and windy, with little chance of rain.” 

Peleus groans. The neck of the bottle clings at the glass’s edge when he fills it. “It will be hell for the harvest,” he says. “Last year, half the alfalfa was scorched, and the clover was barely enough to make up for it. The cattle will have nothing to graze on by July.” 

“We’ll still have the barley,” Chiron says mildly, “and the spring has been gentle. The fields beyond the river are still plush and green. Being a pessimist does not become you, my friend.” 

Achilles listens to the men with half an ear. The old saddle he’s been trying to fix for days now is largely a lost cause; the leather is chafed and cracked in places, the balance of the seat is off, and it won’t fit on the back of his new horse anyway. But he still fidgets with it for want of anything better to do, picking apart the stitching and mending the straps. The hounds sprawl around him, tired from a full day of running after the sheep and the horses and the cattle. 

Peleus sighs and lights his pipe. The puff of silver smoke momentarily obscures his features, then is blown away by a gust of wind. “Yes,” he says, and the smile on his lips is only a little forced. “I suppose you are right.” 

One of the dogs lifts its head and sniffs at the air. It woofs softly, under its breath, then takes off towards the gates. The rest of the hounds are quick to follow, baying and howling up a storm. Together they all raise a ruckus, frightening the horses that neigh and huff from inside the barn. 

“There’s someone at the gate,” Chiron says, and casts a questioning glance towards it.

“I’ll go have a look.” Achilles jumps to his feet. He rushes after the dogs, shushing them as soon as he draws near. At the sight of him they are all brought to heel; they are clever, obedient dogs, trained by his father since they were taken from their mothers. They skulk away from the gates, yet with their ears still pricked up and snouts lifted up in the air as Achilles unbars the door and swings it open. 

The boy that’s standing at the ranch’s threshold is the last thing Achilles would have expected to see at this time of day. He must be about fourteen, fifteen at most; his face is dark and sunburnt beneath the shadows of his wide-brim hat, his neck glistening with sweat. He holds himself up tall, though it’s clear by his posture and the traildust on his clothes that he’s been travelling for the better part of the day, perhaps longer.

“Are you lost?” Achilles asks him. It isn’t very often that they get visitors this time of day, or evening. 

The boy gives him a long, level look, fidgeting absently with the strap of the pack hanging off his shoulder, which seems to be his only possession. “This the Pelides ranch?” he asks, voice hoarse and scratchy with exhaustion. His soft drawl sounds vaguely southern, but not from a place Achilles can easily discern.

“The very same.” 

“Is the owner home? Mister Pelides?”

“Who’s asking?”

The boy tenses. “I’d rather speak to him directly, if it’s all the same to you.” 

Achilles gives him a careful look-over, his thumb tucked behind his belt. He doesn’t look like a desperado—too young, perhaps, for that, though Phthia's been seeing more and more of them of late— and he’s no peddler either; he's got no wares to sell that Achilles can see. His shirt and his leather chaps would have once been of good make though they’re now worn and dusty, and the silver spurs on his boots mark him as anything but a laboring man. Whoever he is, he must have been well off… at some point.

Achilles hesitates for a moment before he gives the dogs a clipped command. They all sit on their haunches as Achilles swings the door open to let the boy in. He waits for Achilles to bar the gates again and lead him up to the house’s front porch, where Peleus and Chiron are now curiously watching. 

“What’s your name, son?” Peleus asks, a friendly yet cautious smile on his lips as they ascend the porch steps. Everyone around these parts has learned not to trust strangers too quickly.

“Patroclus, sir.”

“And what’s your father’s name, Patroclus?” 

Patroclus’ jaw clenches. “I ain’t got none, sir.” 

Peleus’ expression softens just a little with genuine compassion at this. His father’s always had a soft spot for those without family, home, or hope. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, son." He rocks a little back and forth on his rocking chair, his smoking pipe dangling from his lips. “What can I do for you, Patroclus?”

“Looking for work,” Patroclus says without preamble. “I'm strong, and I work fast. I can bale hay and buck barley and clean the cattle pens, and fix them fallen fence posts what I saw on my way in—or anything else that needs fixing.”

Peleus considers this for a moment. “Hay season is still a ways away,” he remarks thoughtfully. “And I’ve got enough men for the fences and the barley and the cattle. Come back in a month and I’ll have work for you.” 

His tone is dismissal enough. Peleus pushes himself up and turns towards the house, missing the boy’s face that instantly falls at his words. Patroclus' dark eyes go wide in alarm and his mouth works soundlessly for a moment, lips cracked by the heat and the sun. He must have been out under the blazing hot sun of the valley for days, weeks by the looks of it. His hands are soft though, delicate fingers tightening over the brim of his hat. Hands that probably haven’t known half the work they claim they have. 

Achilles’ heart clenches, inexplicably, at this.

“Calving and foaling season is almost upon us,” he tells his father carelessly. He picks up the old saddle he’d set aside before the boy showed up, and starts absently working on the stitching again. “Last year we were running ourselves rugged day and night; sure wouldn’t hurt to have another set of hands around.” 

Peleus stops short. Patroclus stares at Achilles, but his surprise lasts only for a moment before he hurries to say, “I’ve worked with cattle before, and I’ve grown up around horses. I can ride a horse and train a horse for carriage and for riding, and I can muck out the stalls. I can do anything you tell me, and I won’t ask for nothing more than a hot meal and a place to sleep.”

He doesn’t say ‘please’ but Achilles can almost hear it, at the tip of his tongue. He catches himself silently begging his father to take the boy in. 

Peleus stays quiet for a long minute, his face obscured by the smoke of his pipe when he puffs it. “Pay is ten drachmae a day, plus board and lodging. The men’s bunks are full; you’ll have to sleep in the barn for now. This alright with you?”

“Yes, sir,” Patroclus says, and the palpable relief in his voice is almost…heartbreaking. “Thank you, sir.” 

Peleus nods again, pleased by the boy’s response. “Achilles,” he says, “show Patroclus to his lodgings, and fetch him something to eat.”

The barn, in Achilles’ opinion, is one of the least comfortable places one could sleep in. The floor is dusty no matter how often you sweep it, the air smells of hay and the thick musky odour of horses, but the stalls are spacious, at least, and the hay is warm and soft to sleep on. To someone who’s been sleeping on the ground for days—as Achilles thinks Patroclus has done—a hay bed will seem like a feather mattress. 

The horses stir sleepily in their stalls when he pushes the doors open, disgruntled and skittish for having been disturbed for the second time that evening. Achilles leads Patroclus to the last stall, which is empty and clean save for the narrow bed they keep there for occasions such as this. 

“Hope you like bean stew,” Achilles tells him when he returns a little while later, handing him the bowl he brought, along with a thick piece of bread and some strips of dried jerky. “It’s what we have most days this time of year. That, or peas, or whatever’s in season. I’ve also brought you a towel and a clean shirt and a blanket. Still gets chilly at night sometimes. There’s also a water barrel out back if you’d like to wash. Looks like you need it. No offence,” he adds hastily, when Patroclus glances down at his dusty clothes.

“Um… thanks,” he mumbles. “Appreciate it.” He sets the bundle Achilles brought him at the edge of the mattress before he sits down, then brings a big spoonful of the stew to his mouth. A little sound of pleasure escapes him at this; it isn’t very long before his attention is entirely devoted to his food, as if he’s forgotten Achilles is there.

Achilles leans with his shoulder against the stall door, watching him. Patroclus wolfs down his dinner in the manner of someone who is near starving to death, but is still too proud to chuck the spoon away and gulp down the stew straight from the bowl.

“I’ll be sure to bring you another one, since you liked the first so much,” he jokes when Patroclus scoops the last of the stew with a piece of bread. 

“Thank you,” Patroclus says, a little embarrassed. “But I wouldn’t want to put you in any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, there’s plenty left,” Achilles says with a smile. “And our cook, Briseis, will be flattered to hear you like it so much. It’s only been a couple months since our old cook left and she’s taken over— and it was for the best, let me tell you.” 

He chuckles at his own joke, but Patroclus doesn’t join him. He’s too busy stuffing the remainder of the bread and the jerky into his mouth, then chugging down the pitcher of water Achilles brought him earlier. Achilles wonders how long ago it was since he last had a proper meal.

“So… is it true you have no parents?” Achilles asks him. “No father, no mother either?” 

Patroclus stiffens slightly at this. He chews and swallows, then shakes his head. 

“An orphan, then?”

“That’s how they call kids without parents where I’m from,” Patroclus replies coolly.

“And where are you from?”

“Far from here.” 

He looks away, his expression distant and closed off. It doesn’t take much to understand that he doesn’t want to talk about it any further; Achilles, for once, doesn’t push it. 

“Alright, then.” He pushes himself upright. “I’ll go bring you that bowl of stew, and then you should probably try to rest a bit. The horses will make sure you’re up before dawn anyway.” 

He winks and flashes him a quick, easy smile as he turns to go. 

“It’s Achilles, right?” Patroclus asks. “Achilles Pelides?”

Achilles stops short just as he steps out of the stall. “Yes,” he says. “That’s right.”

“Thanks for… speaking up for me,” Patroclus says. “For getting your father to take me in. I really… really needed the work.”

Oh, but it wasn’t personal. They just needed the extra hands, that’s all. People come and go from the ranch all the time; the place will be buzzing with seasonal workers soon. One more isn’t going to make that big of a difference. Chances are, whoever this boy is, he won't stick around for very long either way. It would be foolish of him to feel indebted to him.

Achilles isn’t going to tell him that, though.

“You owe me one, Patroclus No-Name,” he says as he walks out of the barn.

Read the rest on AO3

[aromantisk-fagforening]

Day 7 of Spotify Wrapped December

[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.

[studiousbotanist]

[cheollipop]

thank you so much to everyone who reblogs and leaves feedback. I'm experiencing things rn don't look at me

[magnoliamyrrh]

.

[syntheticspades]

.,

[samwisefamgee]

finally got a second heater and it doesn’t work 🙃

[zebruh]

my dads dead huh

[earlyspringtranscendence]

i wish betting on wrestling was like a thing because while i would never win if i bet on anything else (am bad at recognising patterns that actually mean anything) i would cash in soooooo much because i can ALWAYS tell when a jericho feud’s gonna run way too long again 😌

[pizzapizzadickz]

Hehe! I've had a really good birthday!!!

oh yeah. I need to update my profile!

[arklay]

i know i keep making rambling posts then deleting them but just idk wanted to fill people in on here ig

[minimoll7]

The boop thing looks fun and I do want to participate in it but.. I am so exhausted. Had a rough week, still recovering from that and then today was genuinely awful. Rip to anyone I would have otherwise booped and rip to me for not receiving any. I am so tired