#Church Basement Ladies

[starswallowingsea]

someone uploaded the entirety of the first church basement ladies on youtube for freeeeeeeeee

[vulpixelates]

i feel like i go into a fugue state when adding new info to our ttrpg spreadsheets which sometimes sucks for memory reasons but sometimes it's amazing bc one of the other players will be like "omfg this task is named 'teenage squirtbag'??" and i'll have entirely forgotten and can laugh at my own new joke that i left hidden in there for myself at a later date

[moodboard-jlf23]

Bucket list item--unlocked! Dream future home, an apartment in Villa Riviera

[disappearinginq]

I feel like people are sleeping on the awesomeness that is Sister Boniface Mysteries. I think it's considered "cozy murder mysteries" which is just a weird genre to have, but it's a spinoff of Father Brown in the 60's in the Cotswolds of England. I'm not usually a murder mystery fan, they're mostly just 'eh' for me - neither good or bad, just there to have in the background. But I love Sister Boniface for several reasons (which I will admit bias to)

The police are actually happy to have her around. The main DI will find an excuse to pull her into any case they have, and the entire police force love her and will almost always follow her advice/lead, unlike 90% of other mystery shows where the police are always either one step off from bad guys or just can't be bothered.

It shows the wide diversity of women who find their way to a convent. The nuns make wine. They wind up on cooking shows. They host an episode of a really hokey Austin Powers type TV series. They guest star on a children's show being filmed at the church. They love being a part of the cases when they get roped in. The Mother Superior is a cranky Irish lady who is like a beleagured mom who has more luck herding cats than keeping the Sisters out of cases, but she also has a favorite fish in the pond that she feeds, and loves babies and new parents and bends over backwards to help people and lets Sister Boniface blow up the basement with her experiments on a regular basis.

Sister Boniface herself. She was a translator in WW2, she has the equivalent of a masters in chemistry and is the police department's Go To forensics. She has a vivid imagination that borders on cartoonish when imagining the crime and how it could've happened. She rides a motorcycle. She is like 5 feet tall and spicy. The basement of the church has been converted into her own laboratory where she tinkers and futzes at all hours as long as it doesn't interfere with her church duties.

THE SISTER AND THE INSPECTOR ARE BESTIES WHO CRACK TERRIBLE PUNS OVER CRIME SCENES. No, really, there's an entire youtube video of every scene where these two idiots (affectionate) are cracking the absolutely WORST puns related to the crime. Sam Gillespie is the DI and he doesn't seem to actually enjoy the police part of policing, but really likes the community outreach part. He's a WWII vet that was at the battle of Normandy, took heavy losses, got bayoneted (which is brought up in one episode), and as soon as a crime has been committed, he calls in Sister Boniface. There is zero romantic interest between them, she is like his actual sister, and they are absolute enablers for each other's shenanigans, and it is hilarious.

There are no bad characters.

[poetryandfluffycats]

His Girl~

A/N: part of my Nikolai stalker au! might be the last one for awhile since for may ill be on the grind for enstars NSFW month🤍

Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader

Content: Bathing with kidnapper Nikolai...

Warnings: kidnapping, suggestive(?)

Words: 887

Oneshot under cut!

"Dove, how would you like a bath?"

Nikolai leaned over my shoulder, wrapped his arms around my middle and squeezing my belly fat. "Hm, and maybe some new clothes? You must be getting sick of this old number! Aha!"

A bath? I would've loved a bath. It'd been so long since the last time I'd properly bathed, my only way of cleaning myself whilst down here being a dirty rag and a bucket. Even though there was a bathtub in the bathroom of the basement, Nikolai had never let me use it for whatever reason.

The thought of clean water, soap, shampoo, maybe even bubbles? It had me tingling. New clothes too? Clearly something had put Nikolai in a good mood today, which I wasn't going to complain about.

Something about the offer, however, made me shiver. Something about the way he held me, about the way he squeezed me just a bit too tight, told me that he wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his own heart.

"That sounds nice..." I mumbled, turning my head around to face him. There it was, that stare again. Pupils blown out beyond humanness, jagged teeth showing in his wide grin.

Anyone would've called me crazy if I told them, but that was his happy face.

"Wonderful! Yes, let's get you all nice and squeaky clean, hm?"

He intertwined his fingers with mine, a bounce in his step as he dragged me towards the bathroom, which was located in the far corner of the basement. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind us, patting the counter top and gesturing for me to sit down. I did as he wanted, hopping up onto the counter and swinging my legs back and forth.

The action reminded me of when I was a child, watching my mother do her makeup at the vanity while I begged her to put some on me too. I wondered if she missed me, if anyone did.

"Now, I wasn't sure what type of scent you liked, so I got a whole bunch! I think the lady at the store thought I was crazy, aha!" Nikolai giggled, opening the cabinet beneath me and pulling out bottle after bottle of shower products. "Strawberry, peach, vanilla, cherry, this ones called 'A thousand wishes' how odd...! Oh, bath salts, you need bath salts! Here, I got a few options for those as well"

"Vanilla sounds nice" I smiled softly, pointing at the bottle in question. Nikolai grabbed it and popped open the lid, holding it out for me to smell. "Smells nice too"

"Vanila it is then! I'll fill the tub, and you strip for me, mkay? Don't be embarrassed, I'll behave myself! Scouts honour"

Scouts honour? I couldn't imagine Nikolai as a boyscout, actually, I couldn't imagine the manic as a child at all. I preferred to think of him as some sort of demon that just spawned one day as what he is now. What would a younger Nikolai be like? Probably the kind who went around setting bee hives on fire and stealing from the collection box at church.

"Strip, strip, strip! Don't keep me waiting, dove" Nikolai sang, tilting his head to the side, keeping an eye on me as he fiddled with the faucets of the bath.

"Kolya...?" I hesitated in pulling my nightgown off, the fabric bunching up in my grip.

"Hm?"

"Don't stare, okay?"

"You can count on me, love! But, you can't blame me if I do sneak a few peeks, alright? How am I supposed to bathe my girl without looking at her? Hm?"

My girl.

What an idiot. I wasn't his property, you couldn't own a person, didn't matter how long you kept them trapped in your basement.

Without any further trouble, I untied the bow holding my gown together, letting it slip down my frame and pool at my ankles, leaving me completely exposed and vulnerable at Nikolais mercy. I was quick to cover my chest as I hopped off the counter top, trying to keep just an ounce of my modestly intact.

"What a beautiful body-eck! Stupid Nikolai, stupid! She doesn't want you staring! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The jester hit himself in the head a few times, muttering a string of different curse words with each smack.

"Ah, ignore me, dove. Go on! Baths nice and warm for you!"

I didn't need to be told twice, mumbling a quick thanks as I slid down into the tub. It felt like bliss, the bubbles popping under my weight and creating a tickling sensation on my skin. The water was hot, but not so hot you felt like you might boil to death. Just right.

I reached for the vanilla scented body scrub that Nikolai had layed out for me, only to have him grab my wrist before I could get a hold of it. "Ah-ah-Ah, allow me" He wagged his finger back and forth, grabbing the scrub himself and scooping a generous amount into his palm.

It felt wrong, his grubby hands on my bare skin. This should have been a luxury for me, something to enjoy, but I couldn't help but feel like a piece of meat on display. Mere prey, a toy to dress up.

And in a way I was.

[idkifimawake]

Bloody Love pt1

Priest!Fyodor x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Warnings: This is set in the 1800s and is in the canon timelines so Fyodor has his ability , might be religiously inaccurate (Christianity) if I have offended the religion I am truly sorry

The old Local Church had found the a mysterious coffin , that had been rumored to have been sold through many vendors , saying it held 'a demon'but all were to scared to even have a peek , the church decided to check about it and 'purify' the demon. The local peasants pondered about the demon, was it going to destroy the town? Was it going to bring hell to earth? Too many questions about the demon. The head of the local church , Fyodor Dostoevsky decided to take this matters into his own hand.

It was the basement of the church , where most of the excorisms took place , the coffin has been sealed and had been placed on a pentagram circle. Some of the priests seemed so calm, the more newer ones were scared out of their wits, they had exorcised some people but exorcising a full on demon (vampire) was new to them.

Father Dostoevsky walked in , most of the priests bowing down to him in respect, he stood infront of the pentagram, holding his cross up , muttering a few words , the candles started to flicker , glasses broke , the pentagram blew blood red and the flames ignited once more before all rhe candles went out , the Priests were shuck until. The top of coffin moved slightly. Some people screamed , some stayed quiet, Dostoevsky stood there , waiting for the creature to emerge.

A large thin hand peered out from underneath the coffin , blood was dripping out. One man fainted. A loud creak was heard and hand twisted back to push the top of the coffin up. The coffin lid hit the floor with a loud THUD , and a young lady with( e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair stood up , she had very raggy clothes that resembled what was once a large tuxedo, she rubbed her eyes and looked around.

"Oh Dear , I'm so sorry , we were mistaken , young lady , follow me." Father Alexei walked up to her and took her arm , mistakenly thinking she was just a human. She took back her arm and looked him dead in the eye.

"Mortal , where am I?" She asked , her fangs slightly showing , the fangs were small and not all that big. Alexei stopped and stood still , now frightened.

"You are in (town name)'s Church in Russia , what is your name demon?" Dostoevsky spoke up his accent rich, walking up and giving a small bow.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She said chuckling. "If there's nothing you truly need me for , I would like to go back inside." She said walking over to coffin. Fyodor grabbed her hand, both of their hands were ice cold , was he even human?

"No Miss, you're coming with us , I require your knowledge." His grip was firm on your arm.

"Men are so needing , very well then." Turning around , to face him , she was well towering over him.

Pt2 is coming soon. Sorry if this is bad

[wheels-of-despair]

The Legend of Lobster-Dick Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: It's Gareth's birthday! Evil Woman and Eddie present him with a cake he'll never forget. In front of all his friends. Oh no. Contains: An evil plan, an epic cake, questionable sibling humor, embarrassing the hell out of Gareth but it's ok 'cause we love him. Words: 1.2k

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathes, giving you a nudge.

"What?" you ask, not looking up from the paperbacks you're almost done sifting through.

"Look!" he whispers, with a sense of urgency.

You finally tear your attention away from the box of books at the massive church rummage sale you've dragged him to at "seven in the damn morning" and follow his eyeline to an object on a nearby table.

It's a shiny, copper-colored pan… shaped like a dick and balls.

Your eyes widen. At a church sale?!? You look from the pan to Eddie, who's practically vibrating. He looks like a kid waiting for permission to start ripping into presents on Christmas morning.

You abandon the books and creep toward the pan for a better look. Eddie stays rooted in place. Perhaps he'll explode with glee if he gets close enough to touch it.

You want so badly to pick it up, but these little old ladies are already judgy as hell. You don't want to push your luck. What if they don't know what it is? And you have to explain it to them?

"Oh, you found my lobster!"

You look up and make eye contact with a lady in a long white braid on the other side of the table.

"Excuse me?" you say cautiously.

"My lobster! He was so cute, I just couldn't resist when I saw him in the magazine. My husband didn't care for the spread, though. Darn, I should've thrown in the recipe card."

A lobster. It's shaped like a lobster.

"Well, he is awfully cute. I'm sorry you had to part with him." You try to conceal your smile.

"He was just taking up room," she explains. "My granddaughter gave me a mold shaped like a fishie for my birthday! That one's better for tuna, my husband prefers that to the lobster."

You nod in understanding, wondering if the granddaughter had seen the same thing you had in the unfortunately shaped lobster mold.

"He's only fifty cents to a good home," she says hopefully.

"I'll take him," you say without hesitation. "I bet this will make the cutest little appetizer at my brother's birthday party next week!"

Her face lights up. You dig two quarters out of your pocket and pass them across the table to her.

"Thank you!" she exclaims happily. "You have a nice day, dear!"

"You too, ma'am," you say politely, picking up the glorious copper pan. "I promise I'll take good care of him."

She smiles, and you turn around and shoot Eddie a devious look.

"Sweetheart, would you hold my lobster for me while I pay for my books?" you ask sweetly. His eyes widen. He blushes when you hand him your new treasure, and he has no choice but to stand there and hold the shiny pan while you gather your stack of paperbacks and show them to the lobster lady. You hand over a few more coins and wish her a good day again, then start walking to the van.

Eddie scampers along behind you, hugging the pan to his chest.

When you get in the van, he holds it out in front of him. The sun catches it through the windshield, and it shines like The Holy Grail.

"What are we gonna do with our glorious Lobster-Dick?" he asks.

"Didn't you hear the plan? He's going to make his debut at Gareth's birthday party. Should we actually find a lobster mold recipe, or just use Jell-O?"

"God, you're evil," Eddie says proudly, handing you the pan and sticking his key in the ignition.

"Thank you," you grin.

In the end, you decided that lobster was too expensive and Jell-O wasn't funny enough.

So you used the Lobster-Dick pan to make a cake.

Your darling brother, who was getting along in his teenage years, insisted that he was too old for a birthday party. All he wanted to do was to hang out in the basement with his friends. Who were also your friends. Which was fine with both you and your mother.

But you drew the line at "no birthday cake."

You made it at Eddie's house and hid it in the van until time for its debut.

The video games had been played, the pizza had been eaten, and the boys of Corroded Coffin were stretched out lazily over every cushioned surface in your basement while some dumb horror movie played on the VCR.

That's when you made your move.

"I'm gonna take these pizza boxes out before that greasy smell becomes permanent. Eddie, wanna help?"

"Fine," he groans, but his eyes sparkle. He knows exactly what you're doing. You gather the trash from the well-stocked table of junk food and head out through the basement door, ditching the pizza boxes at the garbage can.

When you get to the van, Eddie opens the back doors and uncovers the cake with a flourish. The vanilla frosting has melted a little, due to today's temperature, but you didn't really have much of a choice. If the cake had gone in the fridge, it probably would've been discovered by one of the boys already... or worse, your mother.

Eddie sticks a few candles in the scrotal area of the cake for good measure. Like rainbow-colored hairs… that you're going to light on fire in a few minutes. You reach for the camera, conveniently located next to the cake, and snap a photo. You hand it off to Eddie, pick up the cake, and carefully make your way back to the basement.

"You're the devil," he whispers just outside the door, as he digs in his pocket for a lighter.

"You're the one who suggested the strawberry cake mix," you remind him. He chuckles and quickly lights the candles.

"Ready?" he asks. You nod.

Eddie opens the door for you, and you step inside with the greatest birthday cake in the history of birthdays… or cake.

"Happy Birthday to you…" you begin. None of the boys are singing along. "You don't get cake if you don't sing, brats. From the top!"

The boys reluctantly join in. Gareth's face is in flames, and his eyes are shooting daggers at you from the couch. The camera flashes from behind you. Good job, Eddie.

When the song finishes, you place the flaming Lobster-Dick cake down on the coffee table where everyone can see it properly.

Jeff and Grant cackle.

Gareth looks murderous.

"Make a wish, baby brother," you tease.

"I wish I was an only child," he glares.

"No, you don't," you grin. "Shut up and blow out your balls."

The rest of the boys howl with laughter, and you wonder for a minute if Gareth is going to pick up his cake and throw it at you.

But finally, he leans over and blows, and the candles go out.

"Congrats on your first birthday blow job," Eddie says proudly, taking one last picture and handing you the camera. "Knew you had it in you, little buddy."

"You assholes deserve each other," Gareth grumbles.

"Thank you!" you and Eddie say together, grinning at each other and leaning closer for a victory kiss.

"I hate you all."

"You love us," you correct the birthday boy.

"Alright, step aside please, give the doctor some room," Eddie says seriously, grabbing a knife from the snack table and advancing on the cake. "This will only hurt a little."

The boys all wince and look away while Eddie cuts the Lobster-Dick shaped cake. You snap a photo.

"Why's it fucking pink?!"

Gareth's shriek sends you all back into hysterics.

It's real! It's a real thing! Lobster-Dick exists! 😂

[anim-ttrpgs]

Songs for Eureka Sessions: Investigation Scenes (tense/creepy) Part 1

Masterpost of Eureka song lists & how to choose good music for any TTRPG session.

Neve (Versione Integrale) - The Hateful Eight

Opening Credits - Prince of Darkness

The Underground Church - Prince of Darkness

The Night Stalker

The Werewolf - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Ghost - Stealth Music Avery Alexander

Save Room - Resident Evil 2

Shadow - Deadly Premonition

And Hell Followed - Randal Collier Ford

The Lady Circles - Little Nightmares

Shape - The Thing

Darkness - Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective

Humanity - The Thing

Solitude - The Thing

Main Hall - Resident Evil

Nebula - Lugensa

Dining Room - Resident Evil

The Gramophone - Crimson Peak

A Clockwork Killing - The Sexy Brutale

Vanessa Wants to Play - A Hat in Time

Watchful Eyes from Above - Silent Hill 4

Laudanum – Atrium Carceri

The Underground Laboratory – Resident Evil 2

The Suspense Is Killing – L.A. Noire

Nightmare – Max Payne 2     

Left Alone? – Resident Evil 2

Max Hurt: Danger and Consequences – Max Payne 2

Anomaly – Cities Last Broadcast

Fabiana – Max Payne 3

The Jail – Resident Evil 2 Remake

Clues 05 – L.A. Noire

Fate of the Damned – Blood

Clues 03 – L.A. Noire

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble – Blood

Police Station Basement – Resident Evil 2 Remake

Find a Way Out – Resident Evil 2 Remake

Den – Resident Evil 2 Remake

Jill. You Are Alive! – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Lisa’s Lair – Resident Evil 1 Remake

What’s Going On – Resident Evil 2 Remake

Barry’s Betrayal – Resident Evil 1 Remake

The Marshalling Yard (First Half) – Resident Evil 2

The First Floor – Resident Evil 2

Weapons Don’t Give Us Relief – Resident Evil 2

Lab Entrance – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Contanimated – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Wesker’s Master Plan – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Underground – Resident Evil 1 Remake

A Statue with a Map – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Fourth Floor – Cities Last Broadcast

Guardhouse II – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Neptune Tank – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Macabre Hallway – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Track 1 – Nightmare Creatures

The Bottom of the Well – Parasite Eve II

Lost in Fog – Phonothek

Blood Red – Silent Hill 4

Track 06 – Galerians

A Ruined Village – Resident Evil 4

Moonchild – Silent Hill 1

Disfigured Reality – yatakiya

Inner Most Part of the Shelter – Parasite Eve II

The Sleep Ensemble – Atrium Carceri

the White – Kairo

Twisted Emotions – Silent Hill 4

Fear of Heights – Silent Hill 4

Ghost Room – Martha Is Dead

Stares Back – Cities Last Broadcast

Gloomy View – Silent Hill 3

Wind Chime – Silent Hill 3

Vagues - Benoit Pioulard

Lisa Trevor – Resident Evil 1 Remake

Disembodied – Cities Last Broadcast

Totentanz – Musica Cthulhiana

The Sitting – Cities Last Broadcast

All Things Nocturnal – Atrium Carceri & Cities Last Broadcast

The Death of a Lover – Heroin and Your Veins

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Western Nights.

You don't expect to bump into your dad's best friend Javier in a church basement on the outskirts of town. You also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Life seems to be full of surprises - and Javier was the biggest surprise of all.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Javier Peña x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3.6k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content at the end. talk and themes of PTSD. brief mention of domestic abuse. several mentions of panic attacks. age gap (but all very legal and consensual). smut in future chapters.

Author's Note - it's finally here!! i've had this idea for so long and i'm so glad to finally put pen to paper. the dads best friend trope is one of my biggest weaknesses and javier peña is my favourite character ever, so naturally this was born. this fic will tackle some topics that may be a little tough for some people, so make sure to read the warnings!! can't wait to get this up on its feet and running, and for javi and peaches story to develop <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! <3

Masterlist. Requests.

Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Healing isn't linear. Recovery is a journey. This is a choice I have to make. No one else can make it for me.

You're repeating reassurances to yourself in your mind as you descend the stairs to the basement.

It's dimly lit, and it takes your eyes a minute to adjust. When they do, you're able to make out an old, heavy, oak wood lectern at the front of the room. Rows of flimsy plastic chairs are set almost as an audience, and tables line the edges. The carpet is worn, beige, and stained, the entire space smelling like must and bad coffee. You wonder how many girls like you have stepped foot in here in the past.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your wrists and stick to the back wall, willing yourself to become invisible. Watching as people mill in slowly, you take a deep, steadying breath. In for 4. Hold for 4. Out for 6.

"Hi!" a middle aged, dyed blonde, motherly woman screeches at you. The cadence of her voice makes you jump.

"Sorry, sweetpea! Didn't mean to scare you," she looks you up and down before continuing. "You're new here, ain't ya?"

Her southern accent, albeit very high pitched, is somewhat comforting. It's something familiar in this room full of the unknown.

"Yeah," you just about manage to choke out.

She surveys you again, this time with no judgment. You realise she's just trying to figure you out, as you are her.

"If you need anything, just come find me. I'm Primrose."

You smile gently at the floral moniker, and decide that Primrose might be some much needed support. Her motherly aura was calming you ever so slightly.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, if we could all talk a seat, that'd be fantastic."

A tall, curly haired man - who can't be more than 30 - wearing a name tag sticker that reads 'Tobias' has taken his place behind the lectern, gesturing at everyone to sit down. You pick a chair near the back, slouching down and ducking your head.

"Wonderful. Hi, everyone."

A chorus of hellos echoes around the room, everyone clearly used to this routine.

"For anyone who's new here, I'm Tobias, but everyone calls me Tobi. I've been a Priest for the last five years, and I've been running this group for the last two. Usually, how it works is that we get a few people to come up and speak through their experiences."

Your chest tightens, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. As if he sees your panic, Tobi continues.

"Most people find that being able to talk freely and without judgment is a useful coping mechanism. PTSD is complex, and it isn't something that can ever be fully 'cured' - but we can find ways to make things easier. You're in a room full of ladies and gentlemen that might not understand your experience, but definitely understand your feelings."

He catches your eyes across the depth of the room and smiles gently. You muster up the strength to smile back cautiously, and he nods before speaking again.

"Some just come here to listen. Others find it beneficial to talk. No one is going to pressure you, judge you, or scald you. This is a safe space. Share as much or as little as you'd like. Okay?"

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement. Tobi seems to have a way of reassuring the entire room without really trying. He's calming, tender hearted, genuine. You like him already.

"Who wants to start?"

Primrose shoots up out of her chair on the front row and makes her way to the front. Tobi squeezes her shoulder as she passes, and she beams at him.

"Hi, y'all! I'm Primrose."

The room is clearly familiar with the blonde ball of excitement. Everyone yells greetings at her, her energy almost infectious.

"Most of you know my story, but just in case you don't -"

Her eyes flit to you briefly, and she smiles. You half smile back, relaxing slightly.

"I was in a marriage where I suffered domestic abuse. He used to hit me, manipulate me, call me names. You think it, he did it."

She takes a breath, putting the smile back on her face where it's faltered.

"I have some news to share. I'm engaged!"

A few people jump out of their seats to hug her, congratulating her with pats on the back and yelled excitement.

"Thank y'all, thank y'all! I couldn't wait to tell you guys. I just... I never thought that I could ever be happy again. I certainly never thought that I'd ever find the courage to be with another man, after everything. But I've found someone amazing. And he treats me like a queen. So, to anyone who's new here - it is possible. I promise you. Y'all better help me pick out a dress!"

The room erupts into applause, and Primrose smiles so bright you're surprised the lights don't shatter.

After Primrose, an elderly man named Walter takes the stage. He explains his experience in the military, and the trauma and violence he witnessed for years. You learn that he's a recovering alcoholic, who wasn't had a drink for 9 years. He shakes slightly where he stands, leaning against the cane in his hand. You can tell he's lived through hell.

Finally, after Walter, Tobi stands at the lectern. He's the sole survivor of a car accident that killed his two best friends. After struggling to cope, he turned to God, and became a Priest to better help people just like him in his community. He speaks with such ease, such grace. A wave of calm sweeps over the room as everyone listens intently.

He checks the brown leather strapped watch on his right wrist before clicking his tongue.

"Well, folks, that's all the time we have for today! Feel free to stick around and chat to each other, as always. There's coffee and cookies on the table, and Janet made some of her famous honey loaf too. Thanks for coming. Same time next week?"

Everyone agrees in shouts and thumbs up directed towards the front. Slowly, people rise, stacking their chairs away before making their way over to the table where the coffee sits next to the styrofoam cups.

You remain seated for a little longer, catching your breath. Your teeth are digging into your bottom lip, knawing at it anxiously. You suddenly taste pennies, and lick up the blood quickly with your tongue.

Standing up shakily, you fold your chair at its hinges and add it to the stack at the front of the room. A yawn overtakes you, tiredness suddenly settling into your bones.

Coffee. You need coffee.

You make your way over to the tables, timidly smiling at Primrose as she shows off her ring to a small group of people. Just as you reach over and grab an empty cup, you become suddenly aware of a presence behind you.

"Don't drink that."

A warm, rich, booming voice hits your ears. The large, looming presence comes a little closer, towering over you.

"Trust me, honey. It's the worst coffee you'll ever taste in your life."

You know that voice, it's familiar timbre.

Javier Peña.

You turn around to be met with the sight of him peering down at you intently. He's wearing a flannel and blue jeans, heavy boots on his feet. He smells like musk, sandalwood, and the Texan heat.

God, he looks good. He's strikingly handsome. Objectively attractive. Everyone in your town agrees that Javier Peña is one beautiful man.

And seemingly unattainable. Since leaving Lorraine at the altar years ago, no one has heard any word of Javier so much as dating.

"Such a waste," your mom always says. "Gorgeous man like that. He could have anyone he wants!"

And it's true. Chocolate hair, broad shoulders, strong thighs. The man is a heartthrob.

A heartthrob with a secret, apparently.

"Javier?" you question. "What are you doing here?"

It's now you realise that he's here. At the meeting. You've done such a good job of keeping your head down, going relatively unnoticed. And now, staring down at you, is your dad's best friend. So much for covert.

He must see the realisation on your face. Or maybe he notices the way your breathing quickens. Either way, he places a warm palm on your shoulder, looking at you carefully.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassures. "I won't tell if you won't."

You nod meekly, trying to stay calm. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

The basement suddenly feels too small, too dark, too stuffy. The carpet is too scratchy, the chairs too hard, the table too white. You need to get out before your chest caves in.

"You know, if you still want coffee, there's a diner like ten minutes from here. They do really good pie," Javier tells you, distracting you from your impending panic attack.

You take a breath and nod.

"Yeah. Okay. I like pie."

"Come on," he encourages, gesturing at you to lead the way. "Walk with me."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Javier walk steadily side by side in silence, fingers occasionally accidentally brushing each other. After it happens twice, you decide to put your hands in your pockets the rest of the way, ignoring the warmth that radiates off him.

You eventually arrive at Cherry Pie Diner. The neon sign is blinding, shades of bright pink, yellow and blue flashing and flickering. Inside, the white overhead lights illuminate classic red leather booth seats and waitresses in pinafore aprons.

"Here we are. When you go in, ask for JoJo. She'll take care of you," he winks.

You stand stuck in your place on the sidewalk for a minute, processing his words.

"You're not coming in?"

He seems taken aback by your question. Now he's the one processing.

"You... uh - you want me to?"

"I, uh, yeah. I mean... if you're not busy... I just, uh - nevermind. Sorry. Forget I said anything."

"I didn't want to overstep, you know, it, uh- But if it's okay with you... I could do with some coffee."

Javier smiles at you gently, gauging your reaction. When you smile back hesitantly, he pushes open the door to the diner, gesturing at you to head inside.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"What looks good, honey?"

You raise your eyes from the menu you were staring at intently to quirk your brow at Javier.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if anything looked good," he repeats kindly.

"I, um, I'm not sure. What do you recommend?"

"The peach pie," he says without hesitation.

The quick response makes you laugh, the melody of it tugging at Javier's heart strings. He realises, sadly, that he hasn't heard that sound in a hell of a long time.

"Listen, I know it's not anyone's go to," he justifies, "but it's honestly the best thing on the menu. There's nothin' like it."

"Okay," you say with complete certainty. "Peach pie it is."

JoJo is a bubbly, Southern woman with rosy cheeks and a smile that never seems to falter. She takes your orders happily, flirting with Javier like you weren't sat watching, confusion and awkwardness plastered across your face.

"You two seem close," you approach gently, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, I know her husband. JoJo's been serving me here for at least 10 years. Peach pie, every time," he laughs.

"I'm usually a cherry pie girl. Maybe you'll convert me."

You both sip steadily at your coffees, humming in contentment at your first bites of pie. Halfway through your slice, you break the silence.

"Okay, fine. This might be the best pie I've ever had."

"I told you," he smirks. "I'll never lead you wrong, honey. Promise. Not where pie is concerned, anyway."

You finish off your slices in comfortable quiet, neither of you quite sure what to say next.

"So, uh... about tonight..." you begin nervously.

"I won't tell anyone I saw you, cariño. I swear."

You breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Javi. Really."

Javi. The nickname so rarely used, it makes his heart stutter for a second.

"You're... you're not gonna ask what I was doing at that meeting?"

He tilts his head slightly, gazing at you carefully before replying.

"If you wanted to tell me, you would. I'm not gonna push you. These things take time."

He smiles like he knows. You think, maybe, he does.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

A breath. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

"Was that your first meeting too?"

He shakes his head, soft curls rippling.

"I've been going for a few months. I sneak out of town every week, so I'm pretty sure Chucho thinks I'm having a secret love affair. He doesn't ask questions."

You both laugh, and JoJo's head whips up, her curiosity peaked. She's never heard Javier laugh like this. Sure, he chuckles at her jokes, but the sound doesn't usually reach the corners of the room like that.

"He'd probably love it if you were, you know. Your love life is often a topic of conversation in my house, among many others in our neighbourhood."

He scoffs, and kicks your foot under the table teasingly.

"Man, nothing happens in that damn town, does it?"

"Nothing at all. Think we're overdue a secret love affair from you, Mr Peña. It might liven things up a little."

"Shut it, you," he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater back down over your wrists again.

"I haven't seen you in a while. Think my dad is starting to get worried, you know."

A deep crease appears between his brows abruptly, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I've just been busy, I guess. Tryna sort my shit out," he snickers dryly, no real humour in it.

"So did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"Sort your shit out?"

Now he laughs genuinely, bright smile gracing his cheeks.

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Man, I know the feeling," you reassure.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your breathing speeds up slightly, eyes darting around the room. Javier notices, reaching across the booth to grab your hand. He intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing comforting patterns on your skin. You take a deep breath. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

"I feel like... like I'm... uh...," he nods at you reassuringly, squeezing your hand a little tighter. "I feel like I'm drowning. I'm barely keeping my head above water at any given moment. And I'm tired, Javi. Fuck, I'm tired."

A warm, salty tear escapes you, running down your cheek. Javi leans forward and brushes it away with his thumb, big brown eyes never leaving yours.

"It's okay, cariño. You're okay," he murmurs. "I get it. God, I get it."

"You do?" you sniffle.

"I do," he confirms. "More than you could ever know. And I know how lonely it feels. But I promise you, sweetheart. You're not alone. Not anymore."

His voice is like warm honey, soothing and golden. It melts into you, releases some of the tension from your shoulders. The tightness in your chest loosens slightly, and you take a deep breath. You find the courage to look at him again, and find that he hasn't taken his eyes off you once. His gaze is like an anchor, tethering you to reality. You surprise yourself by not wanting to shy away from the intensity of it. No, you want more.

Javier lets go of your hand to trace his fingertips up your forearm. He draws patterns carefully, as if he's learning every inch of you, committing you to memory. Like he isn't sure when he'll get to touch you like this again. If he'll get to touch you like this again.

You're still looking at each other, neither of you gathering the courage to look away. It's as if Javi is reading the words off the very surface of your soul. You're not sure you've ever felt so understood in your life. It terrifies you.

Without thinking, you grab a hold of Javier's hand and raise it to your lips, kissing each of his knuckles gently. The tenderness makes his heart ache.

"Hermosa," he sighs almost wistfully.

The sound of his voice snaps you back to the present moment.

"I'm sorry," you stutter, letting go of him. "Fuck, Javi, sorry. I don't - oh, I... fuck."

"Why do you do it?" he asks.

"Do... do what?"

"Apologise for everything. Every other word out of your mouth is 'sorry'," he chuckles affectionately.

"Sorry," you mumble without thinking. You pause, registering your words. The two of you break out into laughter, clutching at your stomachs.

"Are you?"

"Am I...?"

"Are you sorry? Or do you just say it because you think people want to hear it? You can't apologise for your entire existence, cariño."

You look into those warm, chocolate eyes, and realise he's read you for filth. He's right.

"I'm not sorry," you whisper.

He quirks a brow and nods attentively, urging you to continue.

"For... for what I just did. I'm not sorry."

You're praying that he understands what you're trying to say. I'm not sorry for my tender gesture. I'm not sorry for this connection we've made. I'm not sorry for my soft heart.

"I'm not either," he replies, barely above a murmur. You hear him, clear as day.

You reach out, this time, and interlock your fingers with his across the table. His large hand envelopes yours, and he squeezes. It effects you more than it probably should.

JoJo drops a plate behind the counter, the red and white china shattering across the checkerboard floor. The smash snaps you both out of the moment, making you jump. Your heart kicks into overdrive, battering against your ribcage.

"Hermosa, it's alright. Just a plate."

You hear him, but your nervous system doesn't seem to want to cooperate. Your breaths become laboured and frantic, and your hold on Javi's hand tightens almost painfully.

"Come on, Peaches, let's get out of here. It's getting late."

Javier stands from his bench seat and pulls you up with him, never once removing his fingers from where they're locked with yours. He shoots a smile over to JoJo, who returns it with glee. The two of you walk across the parking lot, hand in hand, illuminated by the neon light of the diner's sign. The colours dance across Javier's cheekbones, reflecting off the brush of his mustache, painting the rich brown warmth of his hair. He's never looked more handsome.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Peaches."

"Hmm?" Javier asks from where he's leaning against the side of your car, back in the church parking lot.

"You called me Peaches. In the diner."

He nods, smirk etched on his streetlit face.

"Because of the pie."

"Because of the pie," he echoes.

"I like it," you confess quietly. "Peaches."

Javier pushes off the vehicle and stands, towering over you. Without a second thought, he brushes a thumb over your cheekbone in a featherlight touch.

"Sweet like peaches," he murmurs. "Too fuckin' sweet for a world like this one."

You look up at him, breath catching in your throat when you meet his eyes. He's gazing at you with adoration. With tenderness. With so much softness. Your knees go weak with the weight of it all.

It hits you, suddenly. The realisation.

You want to kiss him.

You want to kiss Javier Peña.

You want to kiss him more than you've ever wanted to kiss anyone in your entire life.

You're stood in the parking lot of a church on the outskirts of town with your dad's best friend and you're feeling the closest thing to happy you've felt in months.

You take a step forward, closing the gap between you. The warmth radiating from the older man settles itself in your bones, shielding you from the chill of the night. Just as you tilt your face up towards his, your phone buzzes.

Jumping apart as if you've been caught, you check your messages with shaky hands.

"It's my mom. She thinks I'm with a friend, so she's just checking in. She doesn't like it when I drive in the dark."

The mention of your mother snaps Javier out of his peachy haze.

"You should get back, cariño. It's late. Sorry for keeping you."

"Now who's apologising for no reason?"

He laughs, and you feel like you've won a gold medal. An achievement in its own right.

You climb into the drivers seat of your car, starting up the engine. Just as you're about to leave, Javi taps on the window. You roll it down.

"Same time next week, Peaches?"

"Same time next week, Javi."

You drive away with a smile on your face and a warmth in your stomach, the taste of peach still lingering on your lips. You notice that Javier drives behind you steadily, following you carefully to make sure you get home safe.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're staring at the ceiling.

You're plagued by insomnia.

According to the Internet, it goes hand in hand with your PTSD. You make a mental note to work up the courage to ask Tobi about it in the next meeting.

You lie in bed, watching as the sunlight slowly illuminates the room. Usually, you'll make a cup of tea, read a book, watch a TV show. Pace around the room like a caged animal. Count sheep. Do yoga. Listen to music.

Tonight, you take a different approach.

Tonight, you slip a hand under the waistband of your underwear, and replay the way Javi murmured your name in the diner on repeat.

It does the trick.

@frogers @farintonorth @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pedrobaby @grace46 @harriedandharassed

[dreamii-krybaby]

Ladies and gentlemen and other genders, I present to you the findings of my insanity

1- Uzi is definitely carrying her mother’s necklace on her left hand, the necklaces pendant are known to be reflective

2- on the arch of the entrance there are 5 eyes (and maybe 2 small ones at the end, funny which makes 7 eyes, 7 deadly sins)

I don’t have the picture or the post for this but remember that one scene from the EP7-8 trailer where N is getting dragged by a bunch of hands and in the moment he grabs some unknown object?

People thought it was Uzi’s hat, but uppon closer inspection by some users it looked like a rock/stone of the shape of an eye

I think the eyes on the arch confirms it is one and where it comes from

3- this is more of a speculation, the church is seemed to be built FOR the AS or BY the AS, due the many motifs nodding to the AS, and by the candles that can be seen inside the hall it seems that the AS is worshipped by some drones maybe or even some now-dead-humans

Like imagine this “S” character is a devout worshipped of the AS, that could be cool

Also the church may ALSO be a rented laboratory thanks to some ppl pointing out a sign in front if it in the EP7-8 trailer, giving mad scientists vibes

Maybe it WAS a spooky lab but was TURNED into a church

And like it fits, bc well we got the humans at CFL and JCJenson that could be said they tried to “play god” with the experiments, the idea of “playing god” something that is seen immoral to large groups of people

But it also fits because the AS is also in a way, a mad scientists, EP5 seems to imply the AS ripped the main alphabet trio as WDs and reassembled them as Disassembly Drones, like frankestein’s monster. Just look at Cyn’s basement in EP5, its screaming mad scientist

[seiya234]

henry was no stranger to anger, he thought as he weeded his garden.

there was the anger of his father. the anger of being the youngest in a large family and a million perceived slights, real or otherwise. the anger of wanting to be a big man or at least a bigger man, but corduroys chopping trees were a dime a dozen in oregon, and dad had not just eight siblings, but twelve uncles on the corduroy side, seventy two first cousins, and god knew how many second cousins or first cousins once removed.

arnold tried to fill the world by being a Man, a Big Man, and when he didn't get the respect he thought that he deserved well.... he was angry.

his mother was angry as well, though it took him a little more time to figure that out. she would of course, never, ever, ever admit it because of course, it wasn't what good church going god fearing ladies felt but-

rita was blazingly angry at her family, at the world she grew up in that clipped her wings and denied her opportunities at every turn. but because part of her was forever nine and in a dark basement (henry wished he didn't know about that anecdote) she was also, equally, angry at herself for having desires, for wanting something more than what she had. she was angry, and rather than ride that anger to do something useful, she used it to manipulate and control the one person she could instead.

so yes. anger.

henry wasn't scared of his parents any more- there would always be a frisson of fear, yes, but the majority of that fear had dissipated knowing that he was gone, he was free, and they weren't chasing after him.

but henry feared the anger. he feared it because it was very much there- he had his mother's quick temper, the depths of his father's rage.

he feared his anger because he controlled it, constantly, all the time, at every waking moment. first because he had to, as a small child, in order to survive, and then for fear of what it had become all those years pushed down deep inside of him.

the anger was useful, he had to admit- it was the fire that kept him alive, the fire that enabled him to escape.

he... he didn't think he would end up like his parents. at least, he was doing his absolute best to not be like them.

but the anger scared him. it's intensity. it's depth.

it's ceaselessness.

but he had it under control. he had it under control because he was always under control, had been from his earliest memories, and would continue to be so until he died if he had any say about it. he had it under control because henry wasn't an idiot, he was almost seven foot tall and in pretty good shape for approaching middle age, he could do some pretty serious damage and that was unconscionable to him.

then the woodsman happened.

recently, henry found himself spending all of his free time in the garden.

partially, it was because becoming some weird tree deer monster thing meant that he was basically the plant whisperer. he didn't just have a green thumb any more, but a green body. sure the roots of the plants would twine around his fingers and try and sink into his skin, but he learned how to gently shoo them away while he worked.

the vegetables were going to be the best harvest he had ever had in his life, he could tell that much.

but the other part, the bigger part, was that henry's control was slipping.

it was easy when he was just... henry pines. tall and strong, but nothing else going on there. he could control his anger, control his emotions just. fine.

but there was power crackling under his skin now, power that made his heart race and his skin run hot, power that was still changing his body in a million imperceptible ways even though the woodsman had only happened twice-

(twice for now)

his body wasn't recognizable as his own, any more.

more frightening than that, his body was no longer under his complete control. inside of him was a being that ran on pure emotion, pure anger. no rationality whatsoever.

the woodsman's motives were pure, henry supposed. but there was no leash, no control.

no knowing what would happen.

and that uncertainty? it terrified him.

so henry spent as long as he could in his garden, where nothing bad happened, and everything remained under his control

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Incredible home that was once the rectory of the 1911 Church of Our Lady in Brugge, West Flanders Province, Flanders, Belgium. 4bds, 4ba, 2,870,000 EUR / $3,123,135.

Beautiful marble fireplace and look at those huge floating cabinets in this spacious living room.

Huge shiny navy blue dining room with a lovely fireplace and dramatic built-in shelving.

The black & gold kitchen is amazing. Look at the old brick oven.

Very large bath with a marble tub.

Have you even seen a shower like this? Look at the tile.

Here's a pretty bedroom. It gets lots of light.

Attractive walk-in closet.

Matching en-suite. Love the floor.

Spacious attic bedroom with original beams.

Here's another finished attic room.

The basement has a stylish bar with a fireplace and built-in bench.

There's a roof top deck.

And, a covered patio in a private courtyard.

Isn't the canal delightful? What a beautiful property.

[menonlywrestling]

Worldwide. 1980s. Part 3

As more and more people bought televisions in the 60s, the more opportunities they had to watch some pro wrestling action in the privacy of their own homes. Often married men, they'd do anything to get their wives out of the house for a few hours while the wrestling was on. Giving them money to go to the hairdressers etc. Neighbours who were friends would convince their wives to go to the mall together. "Take your time ladies, we're just gonna watch the game and have a few beers"

Neighbours, work colleagues, friends from church... These men, sometimes in groups, once the coast was clear, would put on the wrestling gear they'd bought from the local sports shops (usually singlets) or mail order from ads in the back of wrestling magazines, and watch some rasslin. They might sit together, beer in one hand, cock in the other, watching. Maybe suck each other off a bit. They would be so insanely horny from watching the wrestling on tv that they would then wrestle each other, copying the moves they'd just watched. Basements and living rooms all around the world, when wrestling was broadcast, would have grown men wrestling each other. And often fucking each other too. They would have to hide all the cuts and bruises from their wives.

All week these men would obsess over the next time they could do it all again.

*The concept for these images was originated by https://www.tumblr.com/wrestlingarsenal

Go check out his blog, if you haven't already. It really is great

[darcylewisbingohq]

1. driftwood | bonfire | pyromania

2. sweater weather | a dark and stormy night| 10 days of rain

3. centaur | Sleepy Hollow, NY | bakotsu

4. Halloween virgin | Halloween veteran | Queen of Halloween

5. hidden lagoon | The Pettenedda (well monster) | a bunyip in the billabong

6. dungeon | hidden away in Hydra’s sub-basement | subterranean terror

7. supernatural harbinger (Vardøger) | bilocation (doppelgänger) | the Gothic double (Jekyll v. Hyde/Banner v. Hulk)

8. the Hanging Wood | Witches Castle | the Black Forest

9. Chinese Lantern | vampire fruit | Ghost Gum

10. sheet ghost | haunt | ghost POV

11. phobia | fear made flesh | [insert your personal fear here]

12. alienation | Hill of Crosses | “Waltzing Matilda”

13. mutation | sentient Hydra experiment | interviewing a monster

14. Sasquatch | Wild Man of the Woods | Silvanus (similar to a satyr or faun)

15. tarot cards | crystal ball | ouija board

16. a sling ring | a mystery portal | Doors of Death

17. immortal enemy(ies) to lover(s) | succubus soulmate | fiends for life

18. feline | witch’s familiar | thylacine sighting

19. dragon | La Gargouille | kaiju battle

20. enthrall | ��like a moth to a flame’ | Mothman

21. a virgin sacrifice | fresh flesh | Drop Bear

22. cider festival | beer garden | Oktoberfest

23. rum runner | mooncusser | Half Moon Bay

24. Jersey Devil | Monster of Ravenna | La Llorona

25. costume | disguised naiad | swan maidens

26. (pre)deceased | axe murder | Fall River, Mass.

27. howl | werewolf | Forest of the Wolves

28. runic carvings | curse | a cult of witches

29. Blood Moon | The Hunt | the Wild Hunt/Santa Compaña

30. catacombs | reliquary | ossuary church

31. rich people Halloween party | a Gothic masquerade | Hydra’s Halloween Ball

Alternates

Because the Darcy Lewis Bingo Mod Team are writers and artists ourselves, we understand that not all prompts are created equal and, therefore, are not necessarily inspiring to all creators. So, for 2024-25, we are including a list of 10 fun, spooky alternate prompts you’re welcome to use on any day you get stumped by the creator prompts we’ve supplied above. Each alternate prompt may only be used once, however, so use them wisely and don’t take them for granted. These are not easier prompts by any means! And don’t forget that all of your Promptober fills must incorporate our beloved Lady of the Astrophysics Lab, Dr. Darcy Lewis!

A1. a 2-sentence horror story (req.: cannot be longer than 2 sentences & must tell a complete horror story)

A2. Darcy’s First Halloween

A3. a Halloween Darcy drabble (req.: exactly 100 words)

A4. the Avengers go out on Halloween Night in New York City

A5. an onomatopoeic story or poem (req.: must include at least 13 onomatopoetic words)

A6. a Darcy retelling of the Headless Horseman (or your favorite classic spooky story)

A7. an acrostic poem about Darcy, the Avengers, and Halloween

A8. The Mummy AU

A9. an autumnal Darcy haiku

A10. record a podfic (with permission) of a friend’s spookiest Darcy fic

With our alternates, this means every player begins this round of Promptober with a whopping 103 spooky season prompts. We can’t wait to see what you make of them in the year to come. Have a spooky time creating, Darcy Friends!

Promptober 2024 is a list of 31 this-that-or-the-other prompt themes handpicked by our mod team to cross international borders for creators to choose from to create spooky, oogie, or hygge fanworks for the autumn & Halloween season (or for Scary Christmas, Valloween/St. Guillotine’s Day, Half-Halloween, Gay Halloween!, Summerween, Scary Christmas in July, or Autumn Down Under for our Aussie creators). We continue to be not your mom so we’re not here to tell you when or how long you can celebrate your Spooky Season. Here at Darcy Lewis Bingo HQ, all your spooky holiday lifestyle choices are valid. In fact…

Important Dates & Deadlines

Promptober begins on August 3rd, 2024 this round, but you know how we feel about deadlines. 🔪 So, for this round of Promptober, we’re doing away entirely with hard deadlines and we mean it! You have from August 3rd, 2024 until our next Halloween event begins, and even beyond that, if you like! Though we do strongly recommend wrapping up this challenge before the next spooky challenge begins, this event remains open basically as long as this bingo exists. No pressure to complete, ever, just inspo and encouragement. 🧡

Promptober Challenges

Promptober Mini Challenge: choose and complete fannish works for any 13 of the prompts from this list for our mini challenge. Creators may choose 13 prompts from the list of prompts—any 13 prompts at all!

Promptober Mega Challenge: choose and complete fannish works for 31 of the listed prompts for our spooky main event! Creators may choose any 31 of the total 93 prompts listed to complete this event.

For an extra personal challenge, you may limit yourself to only posting a fanwork inspired by one of the prompts listed by the number that corresponds to each day of October for every day of the month all month long, but it’s absolutely not required for completion of this event. We want you to succeed and create, and to share new Darcy works, so our goal is always to support you in your fannish creative endeavors and make that as easy as possible.

*If you post every day in October as a personal challenge, mention us @darcylewisbingohq in your tumblr posts to let us know you’ve posted a new work or update so we can reblog your daily posts in as close to real time as possible. Once we’ve left a like on your post, rest assured: that means it’s in our queue, just waiting its turn to be featured on our blog.

Promptober 2024 Guidelines

Promptober fills must prominently feature our beloved Lady of Astrophysics, Dr. Darcy Lewis!

Promptober creators have all of our 2024-2025 round to work on this event! If you want to work on it the whole year until we release the next spooky season event, we encourage you to do that. If spooky challenges are particularly your jam, we’d love to see what you do with ours when you’ve got the whole year to tackle it!

entries—Your fanwork is NOT required to use the prompt exactly as it appears on this list. Prompts need only inspire your fanwork, whether they appear word for word in it or not. However the prompt inspires you is correct, as far as we’re concerned. Subvert the prompt, reverse the prompt, marry the prompt—it’s up to you.

All forms of fannish works are accepted and encouraged for this event! Fanfic, fanart, poetry, podfics, fanvids, playlists, fiber and other crafts, fan edits, moodboards, etc.

You may start posting your Promptober fanworks as soon as they’re ready to share. No need to wait until October and no need to rush to get them all done in that month, either.

Fanwork Fill Requirements

100 words for written works or word art, with the exception of poetry with independent formatting rules (such as haikus).

1 image for artwork or handcrafts of any kind and a description for the visually impaired of the medium used and what it represents.

1 image for cosplay or character-bounding and a description for the visually impaired of cosplay or clothing and any other fashion influences incorporated into the costume or clothing (be descriptive! talk about fabrics and colors, tone and texture! describe the emotions the colors you used evoke in you as the creator!)

9 elements for moodboards (background, images, texts, ephemera) and a description for the visually impaired of the moodboard and what it represents.

6 images for social media AUs and a description for the visually impaired of the creation and what it represents.

10 songs for playlists and a text list of artists and songs to give credit to the original artists, plus a description for the visually impaired of what the playlist represents and how it relates to Darcy.

Still not sure if your creation will meet the minimum prompt fill requirements? @ a mod! we’ll create new requirements based on new types of creator fanwork submissions, as needed.

These participation requirements are identical to our annual bingo event; those guidelines are always pinned at the top of our tumblr blog where they’re easy to find; the link to those guidelines and fill requirements can also be found on Discord in our #bingo-info channel.

[livingdeadmlm]

Day 1: Tentecals/Monster Fucking

Warnings: use of ABO terms, light breeding kink near the end, SMut written by someone who has never written it before ‼️‼️CRINGE‼️‼️

Dude thought he could give church just one more time. He’s never coming back again. He arrived at a time when he felt the building was empty so he could have that small amount of peace for himself, he didn’t even know churches were open so late. However, when he heard a scream from the basement of the church and ran to check it out he was met with the sight of a large…. Entity. Its large appendages rushed to his boots and back to the… body, back and forth like an awful ocean wave. 

“Eaugh I’m guessing you don’t talk.” The writing of the meat sacks never stopped. He leaned forward to attempt a closer look at the full look at the creature.

“Let's not be so hasty Dude…” The sunglasses hid his widening eyes as he took a step back. 

His face became a sneer as he tried to find some eyes in the darkness beyond the tentacles…? The voice you spoke with sounded like it could be coming from anywhere in the dark, it almost sounded like it was in his head echoing repeatedly. 

“I can't tell if it was more gross in general or the idea that you have a mouth in there.” his voice trailed off.

“I am something beyond your mind can comprehend but for you, I can maybe take a form you can stomach.” The tentacles retreated and there was an awful wet noise that followed it. Stepping out of the shadows you looked like a normal person well a normal person dressed as a priest. 

“I knew something was up with you Catholics.” Your hands were crossed in front of your chest.

“You people tend to have more trust in these religious figures and, well I need to eat now and then.” Dude laughed “I have some bad news for you but I think you shouldn’t know.” You huffed and passed dude up the steps back to the chapel. Following you up you began to ramble about your time on earth and in the town. 

“I do wish I had chosen a different moral figure in your human eyes, Due to this one I must be prudish or else people don’t think I am the real deal.” Your voice was strained as the building frustration began returning to the forefront of your mind. Dude was shocked, What aliens had sex? 

“Yes we do Dude and it's getting to that special season in my kind’s life where we feel the need to have a family but seeing as I’m here I am stuck alone.” A sigh left your mouth as you started lighting candles that had gone out because of the wind.

“Have you tried taking the whole garb off? Maybe even keeping it on can help you get a lady friend.” Why was he even trying to help you get laid? He should’ve just gone back home by now. Shaking your head, you waved a hand towards Dude. “The women of your humans are quite lovely, however, I prefer the males of your species. They remind me of home much more than the women do.” 

“If I help you would you be willing to help me? It’s been a while for me as well since I got divorced…. Well even during the marriage-” from your human form, the tentacles shot out of your back and held onto any part of Dude they could. It was so quick he couldn’t let out more than a yelp. 

A bit of moisture on the tentacles began to soak through his clothes. Your priest's garb became loose on your body as you stepped closer and closer to dude writing form. 

“Are you sure? This may be more intense than the way your species mates.” Dude nodded 

“I think I know what I’m getting into with these.” He grabbed one of the free tentacles, feeling it pulse in his hands. Two separate appendices made their way up his pant legs slowly tearing the stiff denim off each of his legs that swayed in the air. Whatever your tentacles were covered with seeped out in larger amounts and into his skin. Another pair of tentacles made their way up his shirt slowly caressing every edge of his torso. 

You pulled him into a surprisingly soft kiss, compared to the firm hold of a tentacle held onto his cock. The constant caressing made his brain go fuzzy. The separate appendages were all warm against his body; it felt like more than one person was showering him with affection. Dude looked up to the ceiling being met with the many eyes of the apostles staring in the same direction he was. 

Well, he had to be going to hell for sure now, gay sex in one of the many houses of god was crossing a line. Did it even count if it wasn't another human man? He couldn’t think about it any further when he felt his skin heating up more and more and the cold hands of your human form guided his head back down to you. Tossing his gasses to the side his eyes were half-lidded as he strained against your hold needing something from you, really anything will do.

His hands strained against your tentacles he wanted you closer to him, or to even touch himself. He groaned at the lack of friction you offered. The bottom half of your uniform had fallen off of your human form and left his eyes with a strong set of legs that looked like they were from a painting thanks to the dim candlelight inside of the church 

He felt so outside of his skin, never thinking he would get to a point where he was begging a preacher for anything let alone to please give him more of something. Your lips continued to work against his and he felt dizzy at the lengths your tongue reached into his mouth. His eyes finally wandered to your face. Your eyes were shut but your whole body was against him, so much focus on him. It made him feel self-conscious but any attempts to hide himself were in vain as you easily just pulled his legs open more. Your feet shuffled against the floor closer to the dude's shaking body.

He took his chance to pull you in close, legs wrapped around your hips he took the chance to grind against you. Practically drooling he humped against what he assumed was also your cock against his. He wasn’t the most sure as now the tentacle that was previously dormant had found its way into his boxers and made its way up to his shaft slowly. He couldn’t see what your shaft looked like; he wondered if maybe you made it large just for the occasion or if it was true to your “true form”.

You had moved down to his neck leaving various marks on it that no doubt would stick around for a while. Your hands made their way to his boxers and thanks to your nails, he hadn’t noticed they were like daggers until now, they were shredded apart. He continued rutting against you now being able to feel it without the dulling effect his underwear had. Your cold hand trailed up to his chest and squeezed whatever flesh you could hold onto.

Everything began to feel more intense. Whatever liquid was spewing out of you started to have a sweet smell that took over his senses. One of your more moderate-sized tentacles made its way to his face, staring at the tentacle. The sweet smell seemed more and more appetizing to him.

A strained moan left Dude's throat as he began to speak, “Put that in my mouth.” Your eyes shot open as you stared up at Dude, his eyes not even looking at you but the tentacle that was in front of him like it was its being. Dude lurched his head forward trying to reach it as a drop of the slick that was on it dripped onto the floor, “You humans are odd, please don’t bite it.” 

The tentacle rested against his tongue and subconsciously he began to suck on it earning a moan from you. Dude continued his motions wanting more noise out of you, he saw your face contort, scrunching up as your legs slightly staggered. The tentacles got tighter around each limb, and each part of his body was held. The slick came out more and more into his mouth and he wanted more and more of it. You felt weak, this wasn’t done on your planet, never even considered taking someone's tentacle in their mouth. 

Finally, he felt a warm and wet tentacle wrap around yours and his shafts squeezing them together, it felt sloppy but there were no complaints from either of you. You went back to leaving marks across his neck and collar, still grinding against Dude you could feel him twitching between you and the quick-moving tentacle. 

Dude’s sucking got harsher as the tentacle went deeper into his mouth his legs began to shake and his vision flashes white. With a whine, the wetness in the tentacle the two of you shared got more soaked. A thick glob of slick-filled dude's mouth as he did his best to swallow it down. As he gasped for air the dude felt himself being lowered closer to the ground by not being let go. 

“Ugh, what's going on? I don't think I can go again-” You held his head in your hands as his legs got pushed up further. “You could make an amazing nursery for an offspring, I won't fertilize the eggs but I say we should see if you can take it.”Your cock pressed against his ass, he could feel it twitch. He could also feel two smaller tentacles grope at his ass and thighs. Dude grew hard again as he panted out an agreement to try this new thing, he was already this far, go big or go home.

[literarynecromancy]

✨Vaguely Summarized WIP✨

Rules: Describe your WIP in 15 bullet points

I'm absolutely stealing the open tag from @somethingclevermahogony for this cause it looks fun as hell tbh and I'm in touch with the liquor at the moment so why the hell not?~ I'm gonna do this particular game with the "newest" of WIPs in the SKC project and I apologize for any errors that may crop up here and there! No editing tonight for this lad~

Murder, cults, and corrupted cops oh my! 😱

Takeout after a body dump is good for the soul and stomach. 🍜

Blackmail never works in the end. ✉️

Always. Follow. The. Rules. ⛔

Lying to your boss: Nightmare Mode ☠️

My ex-girlfriend is now a "nun". 🙏

Church basements are scary places for everyone. 🏠

The priest is a Demon 😈

It was a cop. What a twist. /sarcasm 🚓

A man will follow his testosterone to hell and back. ❤️

Saved by the ex - again. 👀

Angry front desk lady strikes again. 💢

Freak it up White Boy! 🔪

Circumstance is a beautiful thing. ⭕

I'm going to go down on lady luck and there's nothing that can stop me. 🍀

SKC Taglist: @satohqbanana || @thebejeweledwatercat || @steh-lar-uh-nuhs

General Taglist: All those listed above + whoever is reading this right now and thinks it was as fun as I did!~ ❤️