#if anyone wants to write this: you have my permission

[bluemusickid]

ᥫ᭡. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚In The Key of Sin ᥫ᭡. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

🎀Pairing🎀: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader, Joel Miller x Original Character

🎀A/N🎀: Okkkkk so I had this teeeensy idea brewing since quite some time. It's a bit different from what I normally write, I shall admit. But idk, it's been at the back of my mind since a looooong time. Now this may be a bit OOC for the JM we love and cherish, both HBO and Game versions. But oh well, when my muse strikes, she does so with a vengeance. Also, special thanks to @slimybeth69 , I got this idea after I read a certain chapter of Que Sera Sera (which is an AMAZING story and omfg you guys need to read it LIKE NOW)

🎀Warnings🎀: smut, nsfw, 18+, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly wrap your willy), slightt infidelity (yea ik but trust the process), explicit sex, degradation, (mild) voyeurism, breeding kink, minors DNI.

18+ blog, Minors not welcome, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, and occasionally Wattpad. I do not give anyone permission to reproduce, copy or translate my work in any form of media, including but not limited to AI chatbots. If you are found doing so, trust me, I will put my law degree to good use. Likes are welcome, reblogs are much appreciated!

Tiring. That was all that you could describe this day as. Work had been hectic, challenging and had pushed you to the limits of your sanity. All you wanted to do was kick off your shoes, maybe have a beer or two, and snuggle with your husband, watching trashy reality TV; listening to him grumble about how stupid everyone in said show was.

With that thought perking you up a little, you walked into your house, your calves killing you. Surely the person who invented heels is burning in hell right now; you thought to yourself. Dropping your bag unceremoniously on the couch, you took off your shoes and your jacket, making your way to the refrigerator as you pulled out a can of beer, the chilled beverage sliding down your throat, calming down your nerves. Perfect. Just as you were about to take another sip, you heard a muffled groan. Weird. Chalking it up to the random noises old houses often made, you shrugged it off.

But then it happened again. As you stood there, you heard a moan again, loud and clear this time. Hmm, that's strange. Joel said he wouldn't be home this early. Maybe it was the wind or a raccoon or something.

You were about to call out his name when you heard a loud whimper, and the porniest noise you had ever heard. Intrigued, you slowly made your way to your bedroom, ensuring that you made no noise; your form shaking as you saw the door ajar.

Heart racing, you snuck towards the door, till what you had heard finally had visual backing. And there you saw something. Something which would have made a normal person's heart drop into their stomach and their palms to become sweaty. Instead, you felt a flutter twist throughout your body.

You saw a very naked woman on her back, writhing and undulating on the bed, as he, your man, ate her out, and rather voraciously at that. The askew bedspread, the clothes strewn about, the whole bedroom was a damn mess; but all your brain could register was that he ate pussy like a god, hearing her wails reverberate through your marital room.

"Yes, yes...i'm almost there!" she whined, her hips moving against his face. You could see him grinding lightly against the bed, his tongue making the girl grab the bedspread tightly between her fingers. It made your toes curl, a tingle passing through your scalp and all throughout your body.

"'S right, slut. Come on my face. Let me feel that cunt squeeze my damn fingers." Joel grunted, the sound of his sucking breaking the silence of the room.

The next moment, big-tits-long-hair screamed as she thrust her hips up against his face, holding him to her mound, curling her fingers and grasping his hair. He moaned as he held her legs up, his mouth relentlessly licking at her.

You closed your eyes as you remembered how his moan felt against your centre, your panties now drenched. Softly unbuttoning your jeans, you reached inside, touching yourself over your underwear.

This feels so wrong, and yet...

Her squeal made you open your eyes, as you saw Joel roughly flip her onto her hands and knees. You nearly moaned out loud, but bit your lip in the nick of time. He was facing opposite the door and hadn't seemed to notice your presence yet, which you were thankful for.

You saw him, Joel; your Joel, eat her out from behind, as he slowly jerked himself off, no doubt trying to stave off his orgasm.

"What do you want, slut?" he drawled, his hand working himself, slowly.

She said nothing, whimpering as she pushed her hips backwards, towards him. Smacking her on her ass, he growled, "Beg for it."

You swore under your breath, his husky command bringing you to the brink. You watched as she whined out breathily, "Please give me your cock, Mr. Miller. I need it inside me."

You bit your thumb as you watched him rip a foil packet and unroll a condom before thrusting inside her snatch in one move, burying himself to the hilt. She squealed, rather loudly, the sudden intrusion causing her some pain.

"Lemme hear you, lil' girl. Need you to scream loudly 'til the neighbours hear." He grunted through clenched teeth, his hips still flush against her ass.

You watched, transfixed, as he lightly began to circle her clit. Sex with Joel had always been mindblowingly hot, but now watching it, as a third person? It was even better than watching porn.

You watched as he jackhammered her cunt, roughly pulling on her wrists, to go even deeper. She wailed, her thighs trembling as she struggled to hold herself upright. You gasped, watching him push her into prone position, his thrusts never faltering.

This was wrong. It was transgressive. But oh god...why was it so hot? Why did it feel like YOU were the intruder? A sudden grunt broke you out of your reverie as you watched Joel manhandle her to his liking.

You watched the love of your life pound into her with such vigour you feared the bed would break.

"Ohh..ohhhh...god....i'm....cumming..." you heard her keening, her hands searching for something, anything to hold on to as Joel wrecked her, his hips faltering as he too, neared his end.

"Yeah...fuck.....'s it. Come on my cock, want t' feel you gushing around me.." he grunted, yanking on her arm to haul her up on her knees, fucking her with abandon. You doubled your efforts, circling your clit as you slipped a finger inside, muffling your groans as you could feel yourself inch closer and closer to your climax; your pussy getting wetter by the minute.

Her wails, her loud screams, enough to wake the dead resonated through the house. You were half afraid that Mrs. Davis next door would think there was someone being murdered.

You could feel your walls clench around nothing as you saw Joel pull out of her, jerking himself off and groaning as he finished all over her round ass, his hips shunting as he milked out every drop of his spend on her perky butt.

Breaking out of your horny haze, you decided that you'd had enough. You needed to leave before either one of them caught you. Rebuttoning your pants, you quickly exited the house, going for a small walk around the block to clear your mind.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Almost an hour had passed since the "incident". You had come back home, thankfully, after the girl had left, and had busied yourself with preparing dinner. As you were slicing the vegetables, you felt his arms circling around your waist, his breath tickling your ear as he slowly ground his growing erection against your hips. Wordlessly, you turned around as he weaved his fingers through yours, the slight pressure a welcome distraction as he pulled you in the direction of your bedroom, seating you on the very bed where he had been with another woman not too long ago.

"So, you were watching." he said, his Southern drawl thicker than usual.

You hesitated for a bit, before nodding.

He sniffled, nodding slightly as he ran his fingers through his beard thoughtfully.

"Was it up to the mark?" he asked, a little shyly, if you could decipher his tone correctly.

Turning your chin up, you looked into his eyes, your lips pursing. Your mouth upturned into a smirk as you looked at the ground with your eyes, your intentions abundantly clear.

He immediately dropped to his knees, between your legs; awaiting your words with bated breath. It turned you on to see him like this; it was always hot when he took charge but it was even hotter when you took charge, which was a rare but delicious occurrence.

"Oh baby." you smirked, as you took his chin between your fingers, slowly caressing his beard with your thumb. "It was so, so good. I nearly lost control and joined you both."

You felt his sigh of relief ghost over your drenched panties, his fingers tightening on your thighs as he looked up, his big brown eyes reflecting his solace.

"So was it a good early birthday present?" he bashfully whispered, his fingers lightly caressing your clit through your panties, his jeans getting tighter by the minute.

Grinning, you ran your fingers through his gorgeous mess of curls, scratching his beard lightly.

"It was amazing. I was a bit skeptical at first, but that was the hottest thing I've ever seen. It was like a porno, except more personal; like it was just made for me." you moaned, as you felt his finger nudge your panties to the side and lightly caress your wet folds.

"What else, baby?" he growled, his fingers becoming more insistent as he plunged a finger inside you, his thumb caressing your swollen nub.

You mewled, dropping down on the bed as you felt your walls clench around him; your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. You didn't quite catch what he said to you, trying to focus on his movements.

As you caught your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your husband undress with ill concealed lust. He caught your heated look, smirking as he pulled off his boxers, crawling over to you on the bed.

"You didn't answer my question, sweetheart." he drawled lazily, his tongue circling your nipple.

You writhed under him, struggling to answer him. "Are you fishing for compliments right NOW, Miller?" you murmured dryly, your fingers making their way to his hard member.

Joel grinned as he took himself in hand, slowly but firmly pushing inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he swallowed your moan. Fully seated inside you, he waited a moment before pulling out and thrusting back in, a gasp being punched out of you.

He began moving faster, feeling your silky walls encase him tightly as he picked up his speed; your breathy moans and gasps adding to the symphony of your mingled breaths. He looked into your eyes lovingly entwining his fingers with yours.

It was like some unintentional barriers had been broken that night, and a new chapter of your married life had begun. If you thought you couldn't trust Joel more, you were wrong. You trusted him more than anything now and this rendezvous had only strengthened in your mind what you knew all along in your heart; that Joel Miller would do ANYTHING for you, no questions asked.

"Baby?" you gulped, struggling to keep your climax at bay as he pounded you into the mattress.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I want you to come inside me. Put a baby in me, Joel."

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

EEEEEEK. I'm going to hide in my corner; I know this isn't a kink many share but oh well, i do (sometimes) and just needed to get it out of my system. Come yell at me or cackle with me in my inbox, feedback is always appreciated!!!!

Xoxox Lexi

[anghraine]

Happy WIP Wednesday, everyone! @brynnmclean tagged me and I seized the opportunity to write over 2000 words of one of the very early sections of the femslash Spirk fic. This isn't all of it, but quite a bit:

"Captain," said S'paak, her nod precisely calibrated to the degrees of rank between them. "You requested my presence here?" At this, Captain Pike glanced up. She saw no sign of illness or particular perturbation on his face, nothing unusual at all. Peculiar. "Commander S'paak," he replied, and gestured at one of the chairs. "Don't worry, you're not here because of any error on your part. I wanted to discuss some information you should know." "I do not experience worry," she said automatically, settling into the chair opposite him as her thoughts hurried onward. "I presume this information relates to my forthcoming duties as first officer, once you have moved on to your next assignment?" The captain smiled, though she wasn't sure what about her conclusion would provoke humor. "A reasonable presumption as ever, Commander." Pike cleared his throat, sitting down in the chair nearest him. S'paak found herself unsettled by this. Her position typically resulted in her standing or sitting at his left hand, rather than across the table, which had never struck her as quite so large before. Nor had the briefing room previously seemed so small. She nearly frowned at the thought, fanciful and useless—but then, she'd never bothered estimating the dimensions until now. "Starfleet Command has chosen the next captain of the Enterprise," said Pike. "Finally. As the prospective first officer, you should have been notified already." "I was, sir, though I'm not familiar with Captain Kirk," S'paak admitted. "Did they inform you of the reason for such a long delay?" "Yes, surprisingly," he said. It was, indeed, unlike his superiors to explain themselves in any kind of substantive detail. S'paak waited. Captain Pike folded his hands in front of him, visibly uncomfortable despite his professional manner. She'd always admired him, but within the silent privacy of her own mind, she conceded that she did not consider his emotional transparency among his most estimable qualities. "No doubt you're aware that Jessica Kirk will be the first woman in Starfleet in full command of a starship," said Pike. "It's always good to see us progress further towards our principles and ideals, of course, but I gather there was a certain ... inertia of tradition to overcome. The way things have always been done et cetera, even though she's unquestionably the best candidate. In any case, you've got your finger on the pulse of the crew. Do you think there will be any issues there?" "I don't place fingers on any pulses, captain," she said. "I have no particular medical expertise." His face gained a tinge of long-suffering patience that she perhaps enjoyed more than a Vulcan ought.

Without a change of expression, she continued, "That said, there may be some difficulties, yes. The crew is certainly too disciplined for undeserved insubordination, in my judgment, but the presence of anyone they're not accustomed to seeing in their command structure can provoke a certain amount of hostility and distrust without any logical rationale."

She knew she didn't need to offer the obvious evidence of her own experience, even if she'd never captained a starship and had no desire to do so. Pike grimaced slightly.

"True enough, unfortunately," he said, and glanced a little to the side at nothing she could see. S'paak thought it likely that he was avoiding her gaze; it was a habit of many humans when discussing the failings of their own kind, as if the disrespect directed at S'paak and others could be somehow lessened by not looking at them. Entirely illogical.

"Well," Pike added, "no doubt she'll earn their respect quickly enough."

S'paak raised an eyebrow. "May I have permission to speak freely, captain?"

"Of course."

His eyes had focused on her face once more, so she maintained even tighter control over her features than usual, and kept her hands very still. In a level voice, she asked,

"Was your career the price of this progress?"

Pike's eyes widened—not theatrically, but enough for her to understood that she had surprised him. Then he smiled again, though it didn't seem in amusement this time. Leaning back in his chair, Pike's entire posture relaxed in a way she had only observed around the senior officers.

"Not at all," he said easily. "I was getting moved up to fleet captain regardless, and this new voyage demands rather different strengths than mine."

S'paak doubted that. She'd never served under a commanding officer with more presence of mind, honesty, or unfaltering resolve. She could not bring herself to say that—at least not in those terms, which might easily sound sentimental, regardless of tone and the wealth of empirical evidence for her opinion.

"Does it?" she said.

Pike gave a crisp nod. "Yes. I'm sure you'll find it rewarding to discover and analyze new phenomena, but a five-year-long deep space mission into completely unknown and unexplored territories is likely to involve some very steep risks and personal danger for the captain."

"That's to be expected," she admitted. "You have faced those before, however. Sir."

"Not to this extent," said Pike. "At least, not recently, and certainly not for so long. It's ... let's say, entirely logical for Starfleet to search for a captain with more fortitude of mind and body than I have these days. They didn't want to sacrifice leadership ability or intelligence in their choice of commanding officer, yet this particular mission also calls for someone physically strong, resilient, dauntless. They're not wrong about that."

It was logical, yet she still did not altogether approve. But he laughed under his breath before she could register further dissent.

"Not that humans are any of those things by Vulcan standards," he said.

S'paak inclined her head, remembering herself as a child, accidentally leaving bruises on her mother's hands and arms and shoulders. She hadn't understood just how fragile Amanda was until Sarek explained the matter with the stark clarity that marked all of his explanations.

"Well, those criteria certainly narrowed down the list of possibilities, as you might imagine," he went on. "Kirk's a bit younger than they'd have preferred, so there was that to consider as well, but she's such a good fit that I gather the delay was really just dithering on their way to the inevitable."

"She did appear quite young in the photograph accompanying the personnel change," S'paak said. "It was small and of poor quality, however, so I couldn't be certain."

"She's only thirty-two or thirty-three," he replied. "She'll be the youngest starship captain in the fleet by years once she's given command. So I'm sure you can see why your role as first officer is likely to be particularly important in this transition, especially given your familiarity with the Enterprise and much of the crew and ... so on."

In general, S'paak found so on painfully imprecise, but his sudden awkwardness left little doubt about what he meant. She was a half-Vulcan woman as well as an experienced senior officer. On many occasions, others' reactions to her species and gender had proven inconvenient to the fulfillment of her responsibilities. Now, her years of navigating not only the science laboratories and bridge of the ship, but the petty, irrational, incessant prejudices of those on it, could only render her a more useful right hand to a young woman in the captain's seat, doing what no woman of any species had done before.

S'paak was not entirely sure what she thought of that. She simply nodded.

"If you've got any concerns or reservations," he said, "this would be a good time to air them."

She considered that, barely registering the cool, smooth texture of the table under her hands, or the mechanized air circulating through the room, or the dull simplicity of the briefing room's furnishings, or even Pike himself. S’paak had numerous points of … not curiosity, exactly, but inquiries that presented themselves to her mind. She would be first officer; she should inform herself well enough to be prepared.

"It seems to me," said S'paak slowly, "that an elevation so unprecedented, in so many ways, is improbable without some extraordinary cause or motive. Starfleet does not suffer such a dearth of qualified captains that no one else could have been found, had they wished to find someone else."

"True," he said, and just leaned back further, listening rather than interrupting her reasoning. She had always appreciated that about him.

"One obvious possibility is some form of ... I believe the usual term is nepotism," she said. "Her advancement might serve the interests of someone already in power, but the existence of a contact or relative with enough sway to ensure Captain Kirk's advancement to an unprecedented degree of authority is mere speculation without evidence. Such a person would likely not be unknown, yet I have no knowledge of any connection of the kind, and I doubt anyone alive has the influence to receive such a favor when it comes to a mission of this importance. Nor would a captain be chosen for this particular mission to be simply the face of progress."

"I agree," said Pike.

"Logic suggests the more probable explanation is some extraordinary quality or action of Captain Kirk's," she said. "It could easily be both, and easily consist of many traits and many successes. In fact, given the usual practices of Starfleet, anything else would be all but impossible."

Captain Pike straightened, his shoulders squaring even as his face returned to its usual friendly lines. "I can give you some peace of mind on that front."

"I do not lack peace of mind," she said flatly.

He ignored this. "She comes from a Starfleet family, sure enough—both parents, a brother—but none of them ever got as far as she has already. Respectable rather than influential. And you're right, nobody could pull strings hard enough to determine the choice of captain of the Enterprise. You don't need to worry about Jess Kirk's qualifications. Yes, sorry, I know you don't experience worry. But believe me, the woman's got a line of commendations and awards as long as my arm and a sterling reputation."

"I see," said S'paak. "Sterling in what respect, captain?"

He waved his hand at nothing in particular. "From what I've heard, most respects. She's certainly no maverick, but tactically brilliant and creative when given command. A reliable and steady senior officer when she's not. We've had quite a few diplomatic resolutions credited to her involvement; by all accounts, she's quite charming and friendly. Brutal in a fight, though. Several of those commendations are for saving dozens of fellow crewmen on foot."

To S'paak, this paragon sounded both worthy of admiration and profoundly alarming as a commanding officer. Pike himself had commanded the Enterprise and its crew with a cool, consistent competence she found soothing. The impression of Captain Kirk forming in her mind was of someone altogether more unpredictable.

Nothing could be done about it now, she reminded herself. And S'paak had never been in a position to affect this outcome. What is, is.

"I see," she said. "There is no logical reason for reservations then, captain. I hope to be of use to Captain Kirk once the voyage commences."

"I have no doubts on that point," he said, springing up from his chair and striding over to the computer. Rather than giving it any instructions, however, he studied the machine for a moment and then glanced back at S'paak. "I'll be handing over the keys in a week, if all goes according to schedule. You're welcome to join Number One and me for the occasion."

S'paak blinked, intrigued as usual by the human capacity to produce multiple grammatically perfect sentences that bordered on incomprehensibility, with no appearance of effort. But the substance of the conversation was clearly over. She got to her feet and said,

"I would be honored, captain. Do you have any other matters to discuss?"

"No, I just wanted to get the temperature and pass on useful information," he said. Then he lifted one hand into the ta'al. "S'paak, you've been a hell of an officer. Live long and prosper."

She felt a distinct and improbable burning in her eyes, inner eyelid notwithstanding. S'paak raised her own hand.

"Live long and prosper, Captain Pike," she said.

-----

Like @brynnmclean, I'm tagging my own usual suspects: @kareenvorbarra, @heckofabecca, @steinbecks, @incognitajones, and anyone else who wants to!

[hostess-of-horror]

Turbo/King Candy x Reader Headcanons

💕🏎️🏁A Valentine's Day Special!🍭👑💕

Note: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope you're all doing well and I figured this would be the perfect time to contribute some headcanons to the Tumblr bandwagon. This is also my very first time writing about Turbo/King Candy in a more fanfiction sense, so please go easy on me!

@sneklover @tiramegtoons/@sliceoflifesalami @starleska @snailstrailz @starryside-1 @depressedasswarlock @crispytubes @pippengin @simpingforcys @blackthewolf17 and anyone else who wants to read this!

Content Includes: Gender Neutral Reader, Slight Suggestiveness but SFW in general, Possessiveness (not Yandere), major spoilers for Wreck-It-Ralph

Hey! Click on each name/title for a love song! (please don't judge me, this got kinda self-indulgent.)

Turbo

For starters, Turbo is... selfish at worst, misguided at best.

Yes, he eventually game-jumps and ends up getting RoadBlasters as well as his own game unplugged, but before all that, he was quite the "charmer."

To many within the Game Central Station, Turbo was insufferable or at least a little annoying. His arrogance was enough for them to steer clear of him, regardless of whatever shenanigans he was up to.

It was worse when it came to him falling for someone. Like, who would ever reciprocate any feelings for this guy?

You. The answer is you.

It caught everyone off guard, including Turbo, who used his signature racing puns as a pick-up line (and not even a good one at that).

Once you accepted, oh boy, was he thrilled!

After a good solid minute of showing off his victory to others at Tapper's, his usual cocky self faded as he realizes you are his now.

Like, truly his.

And with that realization, he is overwhelmed at the mere thought of you actually being his partner.

Turbo still likes being the Best Racer Ever and all that, but this time it's all for you - he just has to let you know that you are one lucky person, what with all the 1st Place victories and the trophies that came with them.

As much as he wants to maintain his "cool and popular" look, he can't help but cartoonishly swoon over you from time to time.

Sometimes, you would catch him staring at you with big ole' heart eyes or hear him giggle like a goofball whenever you're nearby.

He absolutely denies it afterward.

Turbo may not be the epitome of the word "Casanova" but what he lacks in smoothness he makes up for with cheesy puns.

Oh my gosh, you cannot get this man to shut up when it comes to his puns - absolutely loves plays on words!

And of course, they're all racecar themed.

But there are also moments where his puns are rather... risque~

It didn't matter where you two were, if Turbo is feeling particularly mischeivous or really lovey-dovey, he will try to fluster you!

At one point, he tried to get you with one really raunchy pun while on a date and you played along with a slick comeback instead...

Guess you can say it really revved up his engine.

King Candy

Unlike his past self, King Candy is more reserved, having to maintain his sugarcoated facade for over a decade at this point.

He still loves his puns (which are now candy themed), but now he knows how to really treat his partner well.

Be it chocolates of every variety, lollipop roses, jewelry, a trip around Sugar Rush in his racecar - you name it! He is a king, after all!

He will spoil you to death, whether you like it or not.

Not to mention the special treatment you would get as the King's "Thweetheart".

Royal permissions abound - having access to the best seats in any place, not just the Racing Arena, not having to pay for almost anything (although you still pay anyway because it feels illegal not to), having Sour Bill and other servants to cater to you...

Long story short, you got yourself a Sugar Daddy that also just so happens to be a Short King.

Was it to distract you from the fact that he's not actually King Candy? Most definitely, if you're unaware of this.

If for some reason the gifts aren't doing it for you, then His Royal Sweetness will do his damndest to make you swoon through flirting.

You have no idea how or where he gets it from, but that doesn't matter because he really has a way with words...

Sure, they can be flowery and cutesy and maybe even poetic, but there's a sort of tenderness in his voice that never fails to make your heart melt like a marshmallow in hot cocoa.

Especially when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear...

One day, you decide to try and flirt back; that is when you find out your royal beau can be easily flustered!

You took it far enough to make him turn as red as a Hot Tamale - especially when it comes to praises.

Ever since then, King Candy tries his hardest NOT to be flustered into oblivion as you tell him that he's such a good little racer~

How much he dominates all the others in every way possible... and for that he deserves a reward~

... he has yet to succeed.

You may not be royalty (...yet, maybe?) but you certainly felt like one.

King Candybug

Oh, you sweet little thing... what did you get yourself into?

Perhaps you lived and loved him since the peaceful days of Sugar Rush, or since before the RoadBlasters Incident, but regardless...

You are his.

There is horror in a monster's love; a horror in which you cannot resist - to be loved under smiling fangs and sharp claws, where you dance upon that tightrope between life and death

And once you fall, you fall knowing that you're going to be okay.

Despite what happened to him, he's still your lover.

You loved all of him, and even if the world was crumbling down and he was the cause, you somehow saw past all that.

Being the Cybug King's Chosen One is... not what you expected.

You thought he would be more like an animal - a creature driven purely by instincts.

But no. Instead, it's him. The Real Him. That adorably arrogant bastard in all of his glory.

And you reveled in it.

His favorite game to play with you is not Hide and Seek, as fun as it is. No, his favorite game is Flirting~

And his favorite method is lifting up your chin to meet his eyes.

For so long, you had always the advantage. No matter what, you always won.

And he hated it.

It drove him mad, constantly losing to the one race he couldn't beat! He vowed to one day finally conquer it and once he does...

Who knows what will happen next?

So this... this is vengeance.

[acepalindrome]

I still wanna write the thing where Izzy pulls a Mollymauk and claws his way out of his own grave but has lost his memory, and Ed and Stede have to help him try to get it back and realize that he has so much to live for.

BUT IVE GOT TWO SCARVES AND WHATEVER IM DOING FOR MY NEPHEWS TO KNIT BEFORE CHRISTMAS AND I DONT HAVE TIME FOR ANY OTHER PROJECTS

[dear-ao3]

pov your ex held your collection of thrifted spoons hostage for over a year (not entirely his fault, they got mixed up in his things during a move and you did not realize it, though he did adamantly deny that he had them) and reached out to your roommate on instagram nine months post break up after being thoroughly blocked for several months just to ask if you were still roommates and then to very cryptically reveal that he had in fact found the spoons (among other, mystery items that he did not reveal and you also have no idea what they are) in his car that he had not driven for a year cause he decided to make the worst financial decision of his life and buy a tesla and then tried to coordinate a meet up to drop off said spoons and mystery items which you did not want but you do want your spoons so you told him to either mail it or show up to your place of work when you were not scheduled only for him to entirely miss the point and still try to see you, then you reveal that you do not want to see him so he finally says that he will put on his big boy pants and mail it (though him actually mailing it is entirely unlikely) and also aparently hes gotten a perm since the last time you saw him and it looks terrible

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Back at it again with the death seeking creator bullshit dhskdhfk This is just gonna be various rambles about different scenarios that I think would happen

One for instance is that once the acolytes realize the mental state of the creator they'll probably keep a healer by them at all times, and possibly a shielder too. Just so there is no way for the creator to die again. But I feel like they still would figure out a way to die just so the cycle can continue.

One thing I will mention is this would be an au that has teyvat trying to protect creator during the hunt. Probably getting more and more dangerous (like the monsters getting stronger is what I mean) as each death happens. And it just stays that way even after the creator gets recognized because teyvat is so pissed that the creator got mentally broken to this extent.

Actually also now thinking about it I wonder how the more protective ones (like the archons, adepti, and other characters with a more protective personality) would be reacting once the creator is recognized. Because I feel like they would just be desperate for forgiveness and some might be constantly begging, which I very much think would fuck up creator's mental state even more considering they're in denial over the fact they didn't deserve to die.

Also speaking of the creator, just for more angst, I believe that their form is constantly covered is scars. But like not nasty scars, if I were to draw them I would want to make it like artistic scars. What I mean by that is that when they get reborn/reawaken the scars turn into these beautiful patterns that litter their skin. It wouldn't be to romanticize the scars and abuse but to show how teyvat will still call them beautiful even with the scars. Since the creator is supposed to be the most beautiful thing in the world for everything in teyvet. Even though the creator wouldn't be able to see themselves as beautiful in the state their in until they heal from the their trauma.

[lefaystrent]

Random Sanders Sides Story Ideas

1. Patton is used to repressing his feelings. What he's not used to is repressing his new wolfish tendencies. In which Patton finds out he's a literal Woof Man and tries desperately to hide it from his roommates in increasingly ridiculous ways.

2. Thomas finds himself isekaied into a fantasy world where humans apparently don't exist. The mythical creatures he meets there may be ablento help him get home, if he can just get them to work together. Featuring centaur!Roman, faun!Patton, merfolk!Logan, naga!Janus, harpy!Remus, and drider!Virgil.

3. An AU of the cult classic game Vampire: the Masquerade- Bloodlines. Thomas is an ancient vampire who doesn't like to play a part in the petty clan politics. Over the centuries, he ends up gaining a collective of ghoul underlings who are more like family. Living peacefully becomes hard when the most recent ghoul he takes in, Virgil, becomes caught in the crossfire of a breach in the Masquerade.

4. Remus is a stuntman who's broken every bone in his body and then some. Roman, the leading actor of the movie they're working on, is becoming suspicious if the man is even human. As truths are revealed, the suspenseful horror film starts becoming reality, and Roman refuses to become a victim. Featuring make-up artist Janus, director Patton, script-writer Logan, and cameraman Virgil.

5. Janus, a powerful arch fae, is banished from his grove when his disdain towards humans becomes too great. Believing himself to be superior, Janus dives head first into human society to prove his point. Alternatively, local arch fae gets kicked out of his fairy ring and immediately gets stabbed upon entering human society. It'd be a shame if some humans were to take pity on him and make him experience...emotions. Featuring truth-seekers/monster-hunters Virgil and Remus.

[piratefishmama]

this is a gentle PSA to say that if i ever write a lil prompt or spam an idea and you vibe with it you are always welcome to write or draw things from it, i am always thrilled to see how my silly ideas inspire people to create!

[imtrashraccoon]

Here's another fic idea I had that I'll likely never actually write. This was my original plan for Bad Sansuary actually, but the prompts wouldn't have worked and I knew seven chapters for each of them wouldn't be enough to develop their characters. I also only got as far as writing down an idea for Killer...

It was inspired by @/popatochisssp 's fic, The Skeleton Crew, which I highly recommend!

Bad Sans Prison Oneshot Idea

The idea is there is a maximum security prison where monsters and even humans are kept. Monster's magic is suppressed with both a drug that they must take regularly and with an on site machine that makes a barrier that no monster can enter or leave without being allowed to. Only the worst humans are sent to this prison and it is basically considered a death sentence because even without magic, monsters are incredibly dangerous.

MC is journalist that is part of a crew making a documentary on several of the monsters in the prison. Generally she interviews the monsters and asks them questions. Although she is almost never alone with any of them, the documentary is taking several months to film and her coworker begins to get lazy, sneaking away during the sessions to meet with a member of staff they've been eyeing. While MC is frustrated at first, she lets it go because the additional privacy lets the monsters she's interviewing open up a bit more. She is particularly interested in three prisoners with almost no documentation but each have a rap sheet a mile long.

Killer

He was captured about a year ago and charged with the murder of twelve people, as such he was sentenced for life. Almost nothing is known about him though, such as the true number of his victims, where he came from, what his true name is, etc. Killer of course refuses to answer any of these questions, and often mocks the guards about his true victim count yet never admits to anything. He tends to make light of the situation and doesn't seem to believe, or maybe refuses to, that he'll be locked up for much longer. He claims his boss will come for him and then everyone will see.

Over time though, MC begins to see how frustrated he is becoming with being locked up. Despite what he'd let you believe, he is beginning to worry that Nightmare isn't coming for him. The thought is beginning to drive him mad too and while he may appear friendly, he is one bad day away from snapping.

Killer flirts relentlessly with Reader and often makes jokes, which really gets to her at first. She pushes through for whatever reason and eventually begins to see a different side to him. He is definitely a dangerous person and he definitely killed those people and likely thousands more, but she still feels a little sympathy for him. His charisma begins to get to her.

One day, MC is about to leave when a prison riot breaks out. She is caught in the middle and a monster attacks her. Killer shows up and defends her, although in doing so, she gets to witness everything he was rumoured to be. He doesn't even need to use his magic and nearly kills the monster, although hesitates in landing the final blow. He decides not to kill in front of Reader and sits with her until the riot ends.

This does change her opinion of him drastically and she makes an effort to keep seeing him, even outside of her work hours to get to know him a bit better.

[f-imaginings]

hai!!!!

i know you've already confirmed doing minor what ifs, but have you ever planned or thought of doing a longer one for a happy ending?

(im sorry for asking but these two make me mentally ill in the best way posible. )

The what ifs will be pretty well sized so hopefully they'll scratch the itch for y'all. My goal with the ending is also to make it kind of optimistic to empower other folks who want to write fanfic to give it a shot and make their own content too. I just love the idea of being able to make a positive impact with this story and to embolden others to let their own creativity run free. Plus I'd be cheering if there was a list of "works inspired by" that could sit at the end of the story when it's finished. That way the story (that a lot of people seem to really dig) can live on in everyone's interpretations of it!

[corioliseffect]

new curse dropped: having fic ideas but i refuse to write rpf/don't think i even could

[featheredomen]

...wondering how dramatic it would be to buy a mini fridge and stick it in my room because my brother refuses to understand that sometimes I purchase food and drinks that are specifically meant for me, and when I write my name on them that means that they are in fact, not for him

[bright-haired-teacher]

wow sure love to come in on a monday morning to find a bunch of my shit having been moved around by some rando who was apparently using my room this weekend without my fucking knowledge.

like first of all: my monitor setup is complicated. i don't need people fucking it up.

second of all: it is very possible (likely, in fact) that i left sensitive information up on my screen or lying around since i wasn't expecting anyone to be in here!

third of all: it is very frustrating to come in on a fucking monday and have to put my room back together because whoever the fuck was in here didn't have enough respect for me or my space to put it back themselves.

now i'm just in a horrible mood which is not the vibe for a monday! this could all be avoided if you'd tell me someone's gonna be using my room (or better yet - ASK) because i could have at least straightened up my desk and/or put stuff away instead of leaving my usual controlled chaos that other people seem to find off-putting. (to which i reply - it's not your space, fuck off.)

ugh.

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun

[becauseplot]

He’s better off without you.

[henriiiii-1001]

I have it only as a draft in my Word documents, but it's still from before UG became its own thing, so nothing to link to lmfao

Also, the reason I felt the need to ask for your permission is because I suffer from a bitch called

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒��𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒜𝓃𝓍𝒾𝑒𝓉𝓎 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇

as i said in my tags on my last ask, go ahead and write your own story, please dont come to me for permission to be creative. if it is connected to UG before it got ocified and the story was based off of that, then you can still go at it. i changed the story ENTIRELY by this point and dont mind someone else taking the original story’s premise (and i dont have like. any rights to the story anyway bc the source material is not my copyright, and it’s art. no one owns the concept to art bro). plus, i’m just a random tumblr user, i’m not gonna start a hate campaign on someone using old ideas i’ve thrown away. i threw them out for a reason.

and i get the generalized anxiety part, i have really bad anxiety that im p sure stems from my neurodivergency. but i’ve been slowly getting better at managing it through help from therapy and even something my dad said that i keep in the back of my mind. don’t ever be afraid to start something, whether its creative or not. be happy with what you make! be excited!! but that doesnt mean you should push yourself to write smth you dont like. maybe take a break from it, or if you feel like it really isnt gonna work out then scrap it. you shouldnt be pressed on writing something you dont wanna write abt.