#prompt writing challenge

[justkending]

Justkending Birthday Writing Challenge!

Hello friends! Today is my birthday, and I was planning on doing this at the beginning of the week and calling the deadline today but ultimately lost track of time. But still! I would love to do a little writing challenge amongst my readers who have grown over this last year, and I want to acknowledge y'all's talent :)

Here are the rules:

Choose a writing prompt by sending me the number and the character you are writing for.

Here are the characters to choose from: (Feel free to ask if you have someone else in mind; these are just the ones I read about and know well.)

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Dean Winchester

3. Do whatever story you please with the prompt given. (Add warnings if needed please.)

4. Please tag me in the story, and I will add it to a masterlist of everyone's completed stories. This way, you can show your talent, and I can share it on my platform of like-minded people :)

5. Have fun with it! Even if you are not an experienced writer or feel as though you haven't practiced enough, this is the perfect opportunity! I personally have been stuck with writer's block the last few months, and sometimes prompts like these help me get something on paper.

Prompts:

"Is that a threat?" "Did it sound like a compliment?"

"All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes."

"Over my dead body!" "Well, go lay down and die then 'cause I'm not going to be told what to do."

"I didn't catch your name!" "I didn't throw it."

"Go fuck yourself." "Right now, or can I get some privacy?"

"I'm surrounded by idiots." "But at least we're hot, though, right?"

"Please stop getting shot. It stresses me out." "Well, if YOU don't like it..."

"Hold on. You died..." "Yeah, well. It didn't stick."

"Do you trust them?" "No, but I trust their anger."

"I'm forgetting something..." "Morals, probably." "No, it's something important."

"You have your entire life to be a jerk. Why not take today off?"

"Do your parents even realize they're living proof that two wrongs don't make a right?"

"I can eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a better statement than whatever it is you just said."

"You're about as useful as a screendoor on a submarine."

"I was hoping for a battle of wits, but it would be wrong to attack someone completely unarmed."

"Stupidity is not a crime, unfortunately, so feel free to go."

"You're the living embodiment of 'it could get worse.'"

"It's kind of hilarious watching you try to fit your entire vocabulary into one sentence."

"Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth."

"Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?

Best of luck to you all that enter!! :)

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

you know a fic is good when it has this

[bebx]

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[rose-writes-for-march]

March for More: Little Prince

MASTERPOST

If there was anything Phantom hated the most about being crowned king—

“Your Eternity, it is with great respect that I summon you here today for a formal audience.” Ra’s al Ghul says, bent over in a formal bow from where he stands just beyond the barrier of the summoning circle.

—it was this bastard.

“al Ghul.” He greets with a scowl, “What a surprise. I thought you might’ve gone and Ended already, given how long it's been since you bothered me last.”

The man jerks upright from his bow, a frown on his face though Phantom knows it isn't directed at him, and waves a hand behind him in a 'come here' gesture. Phantom follows the movement, spotting a boy in... armor(?) being forcibly escorted forward. Phantom is almost impressed by the fight the boy is giving, having at least ten men trying to so much as move him beside the old man.

"Ra's. We've talked about this, haven't we? I don't take sacrifices." Phantom growls, voice edging into ghost speak at the blatant disrespect the old man is showing. "I should kill you for bringing one before me—"

"Apologies, Your Eternity, for interrupting, but this boy is no sacrifice." Ra's cuts him off, body angled to glare at the boy while keeping the King in his sights. He moves his hand slightly, and the escorts reluctantly back off. As soon as one man's hold slackens, the boy growls and forces the rest off of him with an impressive efficiency. As the fight continues, Ra's addresses the king again, "This is my grandson, Damian al Ghul, I trust you remember him?"

And, unfortunately, Phantom does.

It wasn't that long ago for Phantom, thanks to time shenanigans. A summoning not unlike this one, when Phantom was freshly crowned and still finding his footing, had seen Phantom in this very room before this very boy—only many years younger than he currently is. Phantom is as livid now as he was then when presented with a kid and a marriage proposal.

"Is this some joke to you, Ra's al Ghul? Surely you understand your offense." Phantom can feel his features distorting, fingers blackening into claws, eyes thinning into slits, crown flaring from a soft borealis to a piercing ice. "My demands were simple, were they not? My patience is not as eternal as my reign, and should you offend me further, it will become as nonexistent as you'll find yourself."

"Your Eternity—"

"Your demands were met," Damian interrupts, standing tall under the full force of Phantom's misplaced ire as his eyes whip toward him. He stands beside his grandfather willingly, despite the earlier fuss, looking much more put together than the disgrace beside him.

He seems to have straightened out his suit, and at his feet sit the majority of his escorts, all properly knocked out. Phantom considers him for a moment, "Met, huh? And how is that? I remember my demands were to never be bothered with such a thing again, and yet here you both stand."

Ra's seems properly subdued under Phantom's ire as he always is by the end of their talks. It's gotten almost fun to watch the man back down when he knows he's lost. But Damian, for some Ancients-damned reason, seems to want to force the issue. "I admit you're right; the demands of that summoning were met. However, the requests of this summoning have changed."

Now curious and somewhat impressed by the boy, Phantom lets his features fall back into uncanny rather than monstrous. Plus, he is kind of required to hear the requests, no matter how much he'd rather skip it and get this over with. "Fine, let's get this over with, I suppose."

Damian bows and Ra's follows his lead a second later. Once they are both in position, Damian speaks, "Great King of Eternity, Savior of the Dead and Forgotten, I offer my body and soul to you in full trust and respect." He lifts his head, meeting Phantom's as he continues the formal spiel, "Allow to me the honor of your name and title, the right to you and your people, and your trust so that I may ask of you a favor in return."

Phantom can feel the proposal just beyond his skin, like the whisper of wind playing in his hair and spelling out shivers on his spine. It is an honest proposal, proper etiquette and intention behind every word. It makes Phantom even more curious.

"You must be desperate or stupid," he says, not yet accepting the whispers on his skin, not until he knows the favor, "You are no longer a child and are now doing this willingly, or as willing as you can. Tell me your wants, and I will consider."

Damian fully raises from the bow, Ra's doing the same before walking forward to take Phantoms attention. "Your Eternity, I wish to—"

Phantom holds up a hand, "I did not ask you. You'd be a fool to think I'd let you ask me of anything, vermin, regardless of the summoning rules." He turns back to Damian, offering a hand to tell him to continue where he was so rudely cut off.

Damian glares at Ra's as he sulks, but doesn't pay him any mind as he steps forward and meets Phantom's eyes again. "I fight under Lady Gotham's name to protect her and her people from those that would cause harm." Oh, Phantom knows of them. Lady Gotham's Knights, a famous bunch among the ghosts of Gotham, for good reason. "Recently, she has come under attack from a foe that neither my allies nor I can defeat. For giving myself to you, I would ask you to rid of this foe."

Phantom almost laughs. Such a small favor, such a silly thing to ask for a practical god of the underworld. He lets his mouth tilt into a grin, "So the answer is desperate, huh. I do not accept." With an easy motion, Phantom removes the proposal from his skin and with it the binding of the summoning.

Damian seems to lose the composure he's kept such good control of, a deep glare on his face and a growl splitting his lips. Before he can get too angry, Phantom speaks again, "I will help Lady Gotham without the need of your sacrifice. She is one of mine and has claimed you, Little Prince, which makes you mine as well. Now, what am I fighting?"

[augustwritingchallenge]

Hear ye, hear ye! Ye AU-gust 2025 prompt list is here!

What is AU-gust? It stands for Alternate Universe August, and it is a creative challenge for everyone. Writers, artists, fans; anyone can join! Be sure to check out our FAQ for more answers! Join us on BlueSky, AO3, Discord and under the tags #au gust and #au gust 2025.

Special thanks to @yaoyorozoops for creating our wonderful graphics!

[modifiedmonster]

Show, don't tell : Part 1

Directory Writing Masterlist Blog Etiquette Buy me a Ko-Fi?

[ Angry + Frustrated ]

Red face

Tensing up jaw/body

Clenching fists

Gritting teeth

Stomped feet

Rolling eyes

Crossing arms

Kick/Hit something

Eyebrows furl

Face crunches up

Tight lips

Narrow eyes

[ Happy + Excited ]

Laugh/Giggle

Smile from ear to ear

High tone in voice

Smiling/Grinning while talking

Heart Pounding

Clapping

Breathing deeply

Squeal/Scream

Talking fast

Contentedly Sigh

Tilted head

Hand clasped over mouth

[Bored + Tired ]

Pace back and forth

Sigh loudly

Blank face

Play with fingers

Staring off into space

Yawning

Fidgeting around

Leaning head on hands

Rubbing eyes

Droopy eyes

Dark circles under eyes

Complaining

[Sad + Scared]

Trembling lips/body

Tears in eyes

Bite Nails

Curl up/tuck knees to chest

Bite nails

Eyes burn/turn red

Stop breathing OR breathe fast

Lose appetite

Frowning

Darting eyes

Blinking quick or not at all

Pounding heart

© ModifiedUchiha 2023 ★ Feel free to use them for inspiration , but give credit if adding to a list ★

[angstober]

Welcome to another year of Angstober! We're delighted to unveil the prompts for this year of angsty, spooky fun.

What is Angstober?

Angstober is a yearly October challenge with 31 angst-themed prompts to inspire you to create. The challenge is open to all sorts of creative work - writing, art, edits, whatever you want - in whatever medium you want. Original work or fanworks? Whatever you feel inspired for!

How do I take part?

Tag your works with #angstober2024 and the day of the prompt (e.g., #day 01) to share on tumblr. Feel free to @ us directly in the post as well! To share your work on AO3, add it to the Angstober 2024 collection.

You can post your works whenever - early or late - and use as many or as few prompts as you feel inspired for! We'll do our best to reblog as many works to the @angstober blog as we can.

Is there a banner to post my work with?

Absolutely!

Anything else?

Nope. Happy Angsting!

2024 Prompt List

Again

2. Countdown

3. Self-Destruction

4. Blood

5. Do Better

6. Medication

7. “You Still Don’t Get It.”

8. Growing Pains

9. Promise

10. Humiliation

11. Wake Up

12. Rotten Touch

13. Shaking

14. Only Around You

15. False Hope

16. No One Else To Turn To

17. “Shhh…”

18. Falling Stars

19. Tear-Stained Cheek

20. Spare Me

21. Abandoned

22. Crocodile Tears

23. Safe/Unsafe

24. Dark Sunrise

25. You’re No Better

26. Persuasion

27. Curled Up

28. Perfect

29. Get Out

30. Nothing Else To Tell You

31. It Ends Here

[literaryvein-reblogs]

yet another list of "beautiful" words

to try to include in your next poem/story

Book-bosomed - coined by Sir Walter Scott; means "carrying a book at all times." If you love books, certainly you've been book-bosomed at times in your life.

Caliginous - misty, dark

Dithyramb - a usually short poem in an inspired wild irregular strain. This word comes from the Greek word dithyrambos which was the name for a wild and irregular poem honoring Dionysus, the god of wine, who was often lauded throughout the year during festivals at which poems of this style were read.

Embonpoint - plumpness of person; stoutness

Farinaceous - having a mealy texture or surface

Farouche - marked by shyness and lack of social graces

Florilegium - a volume of writings; an anthology. The word was borrowed into English from a New Latin word that comes from Latin florilegus meaning "culling flowers." Think of a florilegium as a bouquet of writings, specially selected and arranged for your enjoyment.

Goety - black magic or witchcraft in which the assistance of evil spirits is invoked

Lachrymist - one given to weeping

Lamia - a female demon; vampire

Osseous - bony

Phantasmagoria - a bizarre or fantastic combination, collection, or assemblage

Stygian - extremely dark, gloomy, or forbidding

Tenebrous - shut off from the light

Theurgy - the art or technique of compelling or persuading a god or beneficent or supernatural power to do or refrain from doing something

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Lists of Beautiful Words ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[yeehawgust]

Yeehawgust 2024: Greener Pastures

Saddle up, folks! We’ve got greener pastures on the horizon, because it’s time for Yeehawgust’s 6th year this August!

Yeehawgust features daily art prompts as well as alternative weekly prompts, for those of us who are a bit slower on the draw. Don’t draw at all? No problem! Submit any art at all, be it illustration, comics, writing, fanfiction, photography, embroidery, sculpture, music, or whatever other creative endeavors you might enjoy. All skill levels are welcome, and this can be a great opportunity to experiment with new styles and techniques. 

Maybe you love media like Red Dead Redemption and Fallout: New Vegas, or classic westerns like The Magnificent Seven. You might enjoy the genre, and you’re looking for a chance to make a cowboy AU and put your OCs in chaps and your blorbos in a Stetson. Heck, maybe you just really want to draw horses. Whatever your reason, you’re welcome to join in, pardner!

Tag your work with #Yeehawgust and follow along here on the Yeehawgust blog. If you include any external links or directly tag another Tumblr user in your post (which may impact search visibility), make sure to also tag this blog or contact the mod directly so your work will get reblogged! 

Check out the “Reblogging Policy and Q&A” linked on the blog for more info about Yeehawgust. The event is also Yeehawgust on Twitter, YeehawgustPrompts over on Instagram, and now yeehawgust.bsky.social over on Bluesky... but Tumblr is where we hang our hat at the end of the day. 

And remember, y’all: be rootin’, tootin’, shootin’, and most importantly, be kind.

[bookished]

( a collection of starters or dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <𝟑 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"You don’t get it, do you? Every time I walk away, the ground pulls me back toward you like I’m tethered to this place, to you!"

"I swear, even the rain mocks me, falling harder every time I try to forget you!"

"Why is it that every time I try to move on, the stars spell out your name like they’re taunting me?"

"I hate how every single flower blooms brighter when I think of you! It’s like even nature is against me!"

"I can’t stand it! Every time I get close to letting you go, the wind whispers your name, like it won’t let me forget!"

"Every time I try to bury these feelings, the earth shakes beneath my feet as if it knows what I’m doing!"

"I’ve tried to walk away a hundred times, but every shadow, every flicker of light reminds me of you. It’s like you haunt me!"

"Even the ocean keeps pulling me back to the shore where we stood. Do you know how infuriating that is? I’m drowning in memories of you!"

"Every time I close my eyes, the wind rushes in like it’s carrying your scent! I can’t escape you, even in my dreams!"

"I’ve screamed at the stars, demanded they stop reminding me of you, but they just burn brighter. They know, don’t they? They know!"

"You have no idea how much I’ve fought against this, how much I’ve tried to tear you out of my life, but even the trees whisper your name!"

"It’s like the moon itself mocks me, shining brighter whenever I think of you! It’s unbearable!"

"I hate how even the fire crackles louder when I’m angry with you, like it’s feeding on my frustration! But I can’t stop!"

"Do you know what it’s like to try and forget you, only for the rivers to murmur your name every time I pass by?"

"I curse your name every time I see the sun set, but it still paints the sky in colors that remind me of you!"

"I tried to burn the letters, the memories, but the fire wouldn’t take them! It’s like the universe won’t let me forget you!"

"Every time I get close to leaving, the stars realign, the air shifts, and it feels like the world won’t let me go!"

"You think I want to feel this way? Even the storms rise up when I try to let you go, like the sky is angry at me!"

"I’ve tried to bury it, to push you out, but even the ground beneath me trembles with your name!"

"Every time I get close to moving on, the world bends in your direction! Why can’t I escape this?"

[reidmotif]

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 

My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 

Damn profiler best friend. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 

“Stuff.” I affirm. 

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 

How did I get into this mess? 

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 

He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 

“Yep. The last one.” 

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 

When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

“writing fanfics is something I do in my free time for fun. I will not treat it like a job and will instead treat it like a hobby because that’s what it is.”

also how it feels being a fanfic writer:

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 15: “what are you wearing?” “it’s laundry day!”

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

When Spencer Reid opened the door to your shared apartment, he didn’t expect to hear the speakers in the living room blasting one of those modern songs he didn’t know the name of. You were home, that much was certain.

You had known each other for a few years, so it wasn’t difficult to agree to be roommates while Spencer found something permanent in the city. It was just his first year working for the FBI, and with the expenses required for his mother in the sanatorium, everything was becoming more financially complicated. Your parents, who already knew he was a good man, preferred to host that tenant rather than anyone else.

Your roommate tried to call out to let you know he was there, but thanks to the music, you had no hearing. Resigned, he tried to walk over to lower the volume, and that’s when he saw you.

You were holding a basket full of clothes, but the peculiar thing about the situation was that you were only wearing the bottom part of what he assumed was a bikini. Reid let out a scream at the sight of you, and you almost dropped the laundry you were holding, which would have completely exposed your tits.

“Jeez!, what are you wearing?”

“It’s laundry day!” you shouted back, as if trying to justify yourself. Spencer had already covered the side of his face with his hand, a clear sign that he didn’t plan on looking at you.

“And why are you naked?!”

“I’m not naked, Spencer. Almost.”

“It’s the same thing! Put… put on some clothes, please.”

“Have you never seen a naked woman?”

“No! I mean, yes! Just… put something on, will you?”

“You’ll have to lend me some clothes. All my clothes are in the washer.”

“Take whatever you want from my wardrobe, okay?” He couldn’t see you, but from the sounds he heard, he assumed you had dropped the pile of clothes and then headed to his room.

The young man felt his heart racing beneath his chest, and for a second, he wondered if it would be wise to leave, stay, lock himself in his room, and never talk about this again, or simply laugh at the situation.

A minute later, he heard footsteps coming back, and he hoped with all his heart that when he removed his hand from his face, he wouldn’t find you in an indecent state again. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, but the image in front of him was still worse.

“You seldom wear these,” you observed slyly, extending the bottom of the oversized T-shirt you were wearing.

It had a faded print of a national park or something, and it was huge on you. Below, you were wearing joggers that Spencer doubted even belonged to him, as he had never dressed in things like that. He would probably donate them after this.

But Spencer didn’t feel shocked by the clothes; he was shocked by the person wearing them. The T-shirt made it clear that you were still wearing nothing beneath it, and just seeing you in something of his sent a shiver down his spine.

He lied when he said he had seen naked women. He hadn’t seen any—well, unless the beach and television counted.

“Do you know how dangerous it is for you to walk around like that? Some pervert could spy on you through the window, or if there’s an emergency and you have to leave, how will you do it?”

“Oh, calm down, honey. I knew you were the only one with keys to the apartment, all the curtains are closed, and I highly doubt that if there’s an emergency, anyone would notice me,” you laughed, as if it weren’t a big deal.

You watched him for a second, as if waiting for him to say something more, but you continued to receive that expression of disapproval.

“Just be more careful, okay?”

“I will,” you said calmly as you approached to hug him. “And I’d like you to come in with a: Hi, good afternoon, I’m back, how are you? Instead of that scream you let out.”

“I would have greeted you that way if it hadn’t been for your music blasting. One day you’re going to go deaf.”

“Oh, uh-huh.”

You had already started to walk in the other direction, but he, dissatisfied, followed you.

“I’m serious! There’s a study that proves it. Loud sounds can damage the parts of the inner ear that detect sound and send signals to the brain…”

“Do you want to wash your clothes too?” you interrupted, turning to look at him. He almost bumped into you. “There’s still space in my laundry load. That shirt you’re wearing right now looks a bit dirty.”

“You’re right, it is,” he reflected, looking down at a coffee stain. “Let me go change and I’ll be right back to give it to you, okay?”

He couldn’t see you shake your head, and he also couldn’t hear your reproachful words as if something displeased you. The matter was forgotten, at least for that afternoon, and you both continued with your usual tasks. Spencer ordered Japanese food for dinner, and you shared a pleasant time before going to bed. You had his clothes on the entire time.

The next day, when Derek and Elle approached to talk to him, Reid couldn’t help but tell them about the scandalous scene he had encountered upon arriving home, hoping to rid himself of the feeling of embarrassment that had arisen in him.

Unfortunately, it was quite the opposite because both agents increased their smiles as he progressed with the story.

“My boy, I think that was a pretty direct hint.”

“What do you mean?” he murmured, looking genuinely lost. Elle just gave him an amused look, almost pitying, for Morgan to continue speaking.

“She didn’t want to do laundry! She was probably looking for something more.”

Spencer frowned and showed a thoughtful expression. The woman beside him laughed and intervened to save him.

“What Morgan is trying to say is that maybe it wasn’t an accident that you found her in that state. She knows what time you usually arrive, right?”

“Yes. But why would she want to be naked when I got here?”

His two friends shared an amused and conspiratorial look, unable to believe that a guy as intelligent as Spencer could be so bad at picking up signals.

“Maybe because she wanted you to see her naked…” Morgan began, hoping he could connect the dots. “Because she likes you, maybe?”

The young man felt all the blood rush to his cheeks. I mean, that biologically wasn’t possible, or otherwise he would die, but for this case, a hyperbole is quite valid.

“You mean she wanted… to do it with me?”

“Bingo! We have a winner.”

He didn’t even know why he had told his work colleagues that. At that precise moment, he was quite regretful for having even opened his mouth.

“But… but she’s not like that. Why would she...? She can’t like me; it must be something else.”

“Oh, come on, Reid. Is it that hard for you to accept that that skinny body and your deer eyes can conquer a woman?” Elle murmured, entertained by how things had developed.

Those two could see the gears turning in the younger man's head.

“Do you think I should talk to her? Ask her?”

“Are you crazy or something? Of course not!”

“Then what do I do?” he implored Elle, feeling completely ignorant on the one topic he couldn’t study: women.

“Return the favor,” Morgan suggested with a shrug. “You know, the next time you do laundry, just stay in your underwear, wait for her to arrive, and voila. Maybe being on the other side, she’ll dare to do what you won’t.”

“Oh God, this is horrible,” the young man lamented, hiding his flushed face between his hands. At that moment, the three were called by Chief Gideon, and they had no choice but to get up and go to the conference room. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Calm down, kid. Who do you think we are?” Morgan reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. A second later, he saw Agent Aaron pass by. “Hotch! Guess what Reid just did…”

“Morgan!” he shouted, rushing forward to prevent his embarrassing secret from becoming public knowledge.

Feeling somewhat fearful, he followed the advice his coworker had given him, and he didn’t need to ponder much about the question he had in mind. You definitely liked him.

[jesuistrestriste]

i absolutely adore your pastor’s son art but..hear me out…pastors son patrick 😈 but unlike art he is lowkey sacrilegious and not as hard to drag into sin like art

-🍰

♱ pastor’s son!patrick zweig x reader

cw (18+) : switch!patrick, switch!reader, mild corruption kink, mutual masturbation, giving each other a hand, general filth and dirty talk

patrick’s a good boy.

a true believer; he’s someone who idolizes his father, the only pastor in his small town, and does everything he can to remain physically and emotionally devout. doing bible studies alone in his bedroom, attending every service that’s held, upholding the religious teachings that have been woven into his very soul from a young age.

but.. that’s not to say that temptation is easy for him to push down and pray away.

temptation is more like a toxic friend that mumbles dirty little nothings into his ear when all he wants to do is avoid the draw of engaging in sin. it thumbs the waistband of his underwear when it’s late at night and he can’t stop thinking about the curves of people’s bodies. it licks warmly at his lower stomach when he catches you sparing him a glance on your way out the tall church doors. and god, your lips.. oh, your lips..

temptation is more like a sick, twisted, toothy monster that clings to his back and digs its claws into his flesh. bleeds him out from the puncture wounds, letting the filth leave his body and become realized. it’s impossible to ignore. it gets him into trouble.

you’re mostly to blame though. this time, at least.

you had chatted him up after a particularly stirring sermon, when everyone had already left, and then relished in the flush of his cheeks that had been so deep in color it almost hid his freckles completely. you’d touched his arm and smiled all sweet, your poison seeping into his frame from your fingertips. he tried to resist, he really did.

if temptation was a monster trying to fuse to his spine, it was certainly your henchman.

now you’re sitting beside him in an empty pew in the empty building. heads turned toward one another as shared, heavy, stuttered breathing echoes out into the spacious church. despite it being a peaceful place, it’s beginning to smell of nothing but sticky immorality. it’s easy to pick up on the scent of sweat from warm bodies and faint musk from the fluids involuntarily spilling forth.

his hand is shoved down into his unzipped jeans and past the elastic of his boxers, pumping himself shakily as he watches you play with yourself at the same time. your fingers rub quickly at the sensitive spot that makes you feel hot all over. patrick spares half a glance to your hand’s movements as you shift it underneath the shielding fabric, and lets out a soft, strangled sort of sound at the sight.

“does that feel good?” he breathes out, his voice breaking around a moan as he accidentally thumbs his tip. it’s already covered in his fluids. slimy and lewd.

you nod quickly, your brow pinched up and your legs trembling.

“y-yeah, feels really nice,” you murmur, “how does your cock feel?”

immediately, his legs kick out in front of him and he sinks a little in his seat—his stomach flipping pleasantly at the sound of that vile word slipping from your mouth. cock. he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard to stop himself from saying something stupid like “please, say that again”.

this is the first time he’s ever seen someone else touching their body this way, let alone with him. this is all so new and thrilling and terrifying, but he can’t help but enjoy it—it’s ironically the closest he’s felt to salvation in a very long time. his hips feel floaty, his head is spinning, and his toes are curling in his shoes. he doesn’t quite remember how he let you talk him into this.

“.. aah, oh— it’s so good..” he shakes.

you swallow thickly and arch your pelvis into your circling fingers. you hump your touch, trying to get more friction. thrumming bursts of heat begin to burst in your lower stomach like fireworks..

patrick suddenly keens and cries out, pulling his wet palm from his bottoms in half of a second, like he just burned himself on a scorching stovetop. he pants raggedly and then looks to you with lidded, watercolor eyes. loose brown curls hang in front of his forehead as he parts his lips.

“i almost—..” he can’t finish the sentence, reaching his digits up to tug at his damp collar. it’s like god is actively punishing him by cooking him alive. he’s never felt quite so overheated. and he does feel guilty, more than he’s willing to admit to himself, but you’re all he can see right now. there’s no way he’s going to give this up. not a chance in hell.

he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s doing it. his clean hand reaching for your occupied wrist, guiding you out of your underwear and then down into his own. he gives you a pleading look, a desperate one, and then his jaw slacks when he feels you instantly wrap your touch around his throbbing length. how is it that you know exactly what to do? have you done this before? with who?

he tries not to get jealous. he’s in absolutely no position to feel that way.

all thoughts melt away anyways when you begin to stroke him. up, down, up, down, up, down; the squelching of your tightening hold on him only further igniting his forbidden arousal. it’s hypnotic, and holy fuck, it’s so much better than doing it himself.

everything feels so sensitive.

“please, just touch me,” he shudders out, looking deep into your eyes as he instinctively reaches out to find your body. his fingers inch down past the waistband of your panties to brush over the swollen bud hidden beneath. just the feeling of your soft, squishy flesh sends him careening towards the edge. he’s losing it quickly. almost embarrassingly so.

your knee knocks into his as you whine, spreading your legs farther apart to give him more access. your own release only a handful of agonizing moments away.

you’re both filling the place with sounds filthy enough to shatter the stained glass. the fragments that would come down in the wreckage to slice at your bodies would be less painful than this act of teetering on the precipice of something so primal and grotesque.

he swipes his fingers awkwardly from side to side over your parts as he fumbles with the angle of his touch and his lack of experience. but despite all of that, it feels incredible. your legs clamp around him and your back arches up from the wooden pew. your fist glides over his frenulum as you jolt.

he leans in closer, almost close enough to kiss you, and chokes on a whimper.

“im think i’m about to— im ’bout to—..!”

his voice shakes the earth.

the waves of overwhelming sensation in your body start to flare; your muscles pulling taut as patrick’s do the same.

“i think im really gonna come.. i-is it okay if i come—?” he whispers, whiny and urgent.

like a plea. a prayer.

“yeah, yeah, yeah.. me too..” it tumbles from your chest and stills the air around you.

everything stops for just a moment.

him gasping and squeezing his eyes shut. you gripping the edge of the wood below you with your free hand, nearly squealing as his thumb flicks messily over your bead of nerves. he jerks forward in his seat before seizing up at the sound of your strained little noise—toppling over the edge with a jarring finality that seals him in his shame and blinding pleasure. he all but wails.

wet warmth meets your skin and you touch him through the waves of orgasm that have him promising to repent. your own climax rips moans from your throat and forces you to gush into your clothing. patrick doesn’t even know what to think, not that he can, brain much too melted to salvage any coherency. the sound of bells and doves and the choir fills his head. ringing out deafeningly, like a sick joke. he can’t seem to come down from the high.

he trembles as he pushes down softly on your slick bud, then collapses afterwards into a heap of jelly-like limbs. you follow not a second later. you're both a mess of slick parts and damp faces.

he wipes at his upper lip and then his cheek.

“oh my-..” he trails off, knowing he probably shouldn’t finish the sentiment. he’s already on bad terms. no need to make it worse for him later in the confessional. he sighs, still feeling your hand resting around his softening dick. he tries not to think about the fact that he covered your fingers in his depravity, but the thought comes and goes without his permission anyway. his flesh twitches. he stifles a groan.

“yeah.. woah..” you smirk lazily,

he gets the urge to drop to his knees and pull you down with him. to press his lips to yours before bowing his head and asking for forgiveness. that would probably be the proper thing to do. the better thing. his dad always says that the harder something is to do, the more likely that it’s the right thing to do. he doesn’t know if that’s true, but.. holding himself back from kissing you while also grappling with the remorse has him struggling to maintain composure.

patrick vows right then to never repeat this sort of thing in the future, to refuse the clutches of temptation whenever it pricks his skin again, but the vow begins to crack the moment he feels your index finger lazily rub at the vein bulging from his shaft. he inhales sharply through gritted teeth at the sensitivity, and then turns his head to look to your expression. eyes glazing over with reigniting desire.

he can deny it no longer. oh, you are temptation in human form, flesh and bone.

you’re inescapable.