#no editing for prompt fills etc etc

[vroombeams]

Listen i want all of the kink meme prompts with Oscarmark, but I'll limit myself to asking for 8. Collar and 32. Bredding, please.

In all of Mark's years, he's never considered this. Never thought of himself as the type, really, to let himself be claimed. Too alpha for it. Different generation, different time, he's explained to Oscar about a thousand times, to varying intensities of unimpressed expressions.

But here he is, an alpha in his late forties. Here he is, with his omega between his legs, grinning. Beaming, really. His knuckles are cool, tip-tapping at the underside of Mark's chin. His fingers are nimble and quick, fastening the collar at his throat.

"There you are," Oscar says. He doesn't go far when he's done, only leans away to really get a good look. Mark won't let him go far, anyway, squeezes him between his knees just in case. "Looks good."

Mark makes a noise that he hopes comes off as more neutral than he feels. His brain just feels a bit fuzzy, is all. Admittedly his grasp on language had started to slip the second Oscar looped the collar around his neck.

Oscar gives it a little tug; one finger hooked under it, pressed snug up against Mark's Adam's apple.

"Feel alright?" For all Oscar's got a world class poker face, he's doing a bit of a poor job hiding how excited he is about this. Shifting his weight side-to-side, nudging Mark's knees with his bare thighs. Absently biting at his own lip.

And he's wet enough that Mark can smell it. Already, without a single touch, no kissing, no nothing. Just this.

Mark nods, belated. Oscar's giddy smile snaps sharp like a switchblade.

"So," Oscar says, tugging the collar again. "Gonna do your job, alpha?"

Dirty trick. Dirty boy.

When Mark grabs him around the waist and flings him across the mattress he yelps but he's delighted and he's obvious about it. Where Oscar's wet enough that Mark can feel it against his knee when he gets between his thighs, Mark's gotten so hard so fast he's gone a bit lightheaded. Something strange in the fuzzy silence in his head. Something that coats his brain and only gives way to instinct.

Oscar moans when Mark gets a rough, perfunctory hand between his legs. Feels the slick wet of him and groans back, hips twitching uselessly. He needs to be inside. Nothing else matters.

"Aren't you—"

Mark doesn't let him finish. He rears back and twists Oscar onto his front where he wants him, where an omega belongs; face down, ass up, ready to be filled and claimed.

The collar is still tight around his own neck, though. He's been claimed too, he thinks, and then stops thinking.

Faced with Oscar's wet hole, any other time he might have had a difficult run of it deciding what he wants. If he wants to stuff Oscar full of fingers. If he wants to eat Oscar out until his face is nearly as slick as Oscar's thighs.

There's nothing today. Nothing but the need to mount and fuck and breed.

There's no pause when Mark fucks inside, no hesitation; just an all-at-once thrust so hard that it splatters Oscar's slick over his pelvis.

The noise Oscar makes is muffled by the mattress. Mark hauls Oscar's hips up and folds himself over his body, chest to sweaty back, wraps both arms around his waist and holds him tight. He ruts into him like that, animalistic, brutal.

"Oh god," Oscar says. "Oh fuck. You're s—oh fuck."

Mark mouths wetly at Oscar's shoulder. It doesn't matter what he's saying, really. All that matters is that he fills his omega properly. Flood him with come and keep him full, knot him and breed him and keep him.

Oscar's muttering, back arching, insides clenching around Mark's cock. He's so deep that his knot doesn't even catch on Oscar's rim when it starts to grow. So deep and rutting against him so closely it's more of a grind than a proper fuck.

Mark bites down, catches pale flesh between his teeth and doesn't let go as his knot pops. And Oscar, usually so quiet, is keening.

"—so big," he's saying, over and over. "Feels so big, why is it—oh god, oh fuck."

Mark comes inside of Oscar with so much force that his brain can't quite grasp it. So hard and so sudden that his balls actually hurt, drawn up tight, pulsing with every gush of come he pumps out.

He feels a bit like a dishrag. Being wrung out for all he's worth, being twisted and squeezed dry.

He's still wrapped around Oscar, holding him tight enough that he's gone a bit wheezy. He's still making noises, Mark notes. Moaning long and tortured, body seizing up as he claws at the sheets. He's coming too, Mark realizes. His body reacting and responding and trying to drag every drop out of his alpha.

Mark makes a noise caught between a whimper and a growl. Oscar's insides contract around his knot again and again and Mark rubs at Oscar's belly, soothing. He imagines that he can feel it, the bulge where he's filled him up so good. A threat or a promise of what's to come; what his alpha brain wants most in the world.

"Collar—good idea," Oscar slurs into the mattress. His face is red his mouth is gaping, gasping for air.

Mark nods along obediently, rubbing his face between Oscar's shoulder blades.

now on ao3

[lady-assnali]

A WIP Wednesday to prove I haven’t forgotten about Crygi

[atthebell]

Spiderbit/Guapoduo Fluff or Fright: October 20-26

Do you love Spiderbit? Enjoy Fluff? Love Horror? This is the event for you!!!

This event will take place the week of October 20-26th and consists of fourteen prompts; one each day of the week for Fluff, one each day of the week for Fright.

AO3 Collection

FAQ:

Q: Do I have to post just one prompt? Can I post on different days/late? A: You can post as many prompts as you like, and you can even use your own prompts, so long as they follow the theme of Fluff or Fright!

Q: Can I post on different days/late/early? A: You can post whenever you'd like! You don't have to post on the exact days if you need more time/want to post early, and you can even post a month late or however long it takes for you to finish. This event is to encourage people to create more Spiderbit fanworks-- it's not a homework assignment!

Q: Do I have to write fic? Can I post fanart/cosplays/edits/etc.? A: You do not have to write fic to participate! This event is open to any kind of fanworks.

Q: What tag(s) can I use? A: On Tumblr, you can use the tag "spiderbit fluff or fright," with the spaces. On Twitter or Bluesky, you can use "SpiderbitFlufforFright."

Q: Are there any rules about what kind of content can be included? A: Yes. No explicit sexual content, and keep the works focused on Spiderbit.

Q: Can I tag you on here when I post my work(s)? A: Yes! Please do! I can't guarantee I'll reblog all works, but regardless, be sure to use the tag and I'll go through it periodically throughout the week.

Q: Do I have to sign up/join a Discord/fill out a form? A: You do not! Feel free to just work on your fic/art/etc. and post it whenever you finish. There are no deadlines and no sign-ups; anyone can feel free to participate at any time.

Q: What if I have further questions? A: Send me an ask or a DM!

[court-jobi]

Hi, is there any Headcanon of a Married relationship between Izuku Midoriya and the reader? Could you write based on the Canon? Although the Reader, besides being a heroine (Izuku the teacher), is a model for clothing brands, cosmetics, etc! like any celebrity.

The reader is female!

ooooo~ how fun, anon! Let's see what I got... first headcanon request, here we go!!

A/N: I've gotten several fun asks recently, and am moving those larger works to the top of my WIPs as time allows. This is so fun, and you all suggesting prompts like these make it a joy!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!reader (SFW)

MARRIED HEADCANONS!

Married!Izuku who -even though you're coming up on your third wedding anniversary- still crams love notes on index cards into your e-reader before he leaves for the day. You have it plugged into the side table of the living room and will pick it up as soon as you come home from work to wind down; so even though he will have a later arrival home than you, you'll hardly feel alone with Izuku's words of affirmation pouring out their surprise greeting.

Izuku writes in the middle of the night when he wakes before you- whether by an overactive mind or a nightmare he'd sooner forget. Rather than disturb your much needed rest, will channel reflective thoughts towards you onto paper- and sneaks their secrets around the house where you'll least expect them. Just when you think you know all his hiding spots, he picks a new one to surprise you. Once satisfied with his "journaling" tactic, he'll scoop you back up against him and settle into sleep.

Married!Izuku who chooses a travel tumbler for you every morning and fills it every time it's empty. Car ride ahead? It's crafted with your homebrewed coffee to keep you awake. Got a photoshoot ahead? Water it is, keeping his love hydrated. You are his beloved beverage goblin and though he finds your car to be a tervis graveyard, what's one more dish to wash if it makes you happy?

This man, who will hiss when your hands are too cold against his, getting ramped up far too easily when it comes to worrying over your health... meanwhile Izuku toughs through the worst of allergies himself with a hundred sniffles (and an aversion to cough medicine.) It's one of the first big arguments you had as a couple: you forcing him to take better care of himself when his self-preservation streak peeks through and nearly wears him into the ground during grad school. He'll start to defend himself, only to be caught by flashbacks to the last time he tried managing things on his own, and rightfully apologize. You are a team, and Izuku tries his hardest to let you step in and give him the same care and caution he gives you. It's a hard lesson, managing pride when it comes to taking care of someone so selflessly, and Izuku is still unused to this treatment when turned to himself. You're doing your best, armed with a world of grace to set him straight.~

Married!Izuku who is a phenomenal teacher. One of the most patient souls you've ever met, which is a large draw that led you to date him! You're encouraged to stretch your ways of thinking, listening to his alternative points of view... and find yourself marveling that a man who's so closely engrossed with training the next generation of heroes is still so happy to watch the news at the end of the day in hopes of learning more!

You've gifted him a notetaking tablet that's meant to replace his waning supply of favorite notebooks, but if you find that blue Campus brand in a shop that's selling your brand deals somewhere, you are absolutely picking it up for him. He cries every time you make him close his eyes and hold out his hands, producing your surprise in giddy silence. "They don't make this edition anymore!! H-HONEY!!"

^^^After a day of sparring with his students -giving them a run for their money- you'll be the one patching him up out of sight of Recovery Girl, everything from a lightly busted lip to each blooming bruise he's gonna feel in the morning. You're surprised he's getting hit as much as he is when he's still renowned as one of the heartiest teachers at UA- quirk or not, he is no lightweight. You may worry over him just as much, but with your honorary brother-in-law 'Kacchan' running drills on him on the weekends, you know Izuku is in tip-top shape. No one is invincible, after all.

Will gladly talk to your mom on the phone~ welcomes it, actually! Izuku wants to learn every little tidbit and creature comfort he can about you, so any nerves he had about meeting your family when you began dating dissolved once he kept that goal in mind. (This mentality won your father over well, to a comical degree once Izuku showed him the notes folder on his phone with your die-hard favorite secret pleasures only a loved one would know...) Allmight makes his trip to your dinner table every other week or so, becoming a ready and available father figure to you while yours lives hours away. It does your heart a world of good sitting in his nurturing company.

Married!Izuku will carry your luggage to and from the airport without a single grunt or complaint (That's what he continues to work out for, even as a teacher!) A few tears upon departure and arrival, sure, but will always ground himself steady in his pride over the hard work you're putting in. He's the one who calls to wish you a goodnight when you're on location for hero support, and a sends a text for every morning and lunch break. Regardless of timezone, he's going to make sure you are part of his routine like nothing's changed. You rely on this consistancy more than life. Living apart -even short term- is expected at this stage of your career where you're needed more than ever to help fund your hero ventures through sponsorships... but Izuku will forever be your biggest supporter.

///Little does he know, you are cramming in twice as many roles to help fund a certain someone's hero suit development, per Bakugou's discretion. It's the one, solitary lie of omission you keep from your husband, but one you trust is going to be worth it in the end to see him shine where he wants to once again. He'll always be your hero, but you'll help him see that realized self any way you can.///

Married!Izuku will be flooding the groupchat with every single advertisement that features your face. Every last one. And there are many. The girls will share you on each of their socials in support of whatever you are sporting, while the boys will... look respectfully and congratulate Izuku on his absolute knockout of a girl. Izuku is just insanely proud of his wife and will make it everyone's problem~

He may be operating on a teacher's salary, but is the most thoughtful gift-giver. Married!Izuku will choose experiences over 'things' when it comes to you, like vacationing to the largest library in the world where you can spend hours holed up on a loveseat somewhere, taking notes on all the old tomes you find, using those classic academia desks as if you were still at the 'study abroad' college where you met... Trip planning gives you both something to look forward to amidst your busy schedules, and takes the financial pressure off you both as well. Not that he won't still treat you to just about anything you ask for when you're giving him that sweet, small 'please' standing in the checkout line at the corner store...

Married!Izuku, who misses you adorably when you're not home. He runs a fairly typical working schedule that lines up with yours for the most part-- makes him the happiest, coming home to you! You adhere to a few sacred rules in your shared home: you always go to bed together, you can occasionally go to bed angry- but always remain in each other's corners, and you know giving him head scritches is the easiest way to make Izuku pliant enough to sleep. He'll nurse your migraines that aren't so pretty, you'll give his hands massages when the phantom pains make them ache. Whatever you can do to give your man some ease into his life, you give wholeheartedly.

You'll kiss Izuku's every trouble away; and the ones that linger, you'll tend to as gently as you can until you can replace the thoughts with something sweeter, kinder, delicately on his still-healing heart when the embers remind him of old hurts you weren't around to see. You care for Deku just as you do your darling Izuku- as they are two sides of the same coin. You polish and affirm them both, strengthening all the parts that have made your life partner the man he is today. That made him him.

Married!Izuku: your darling husband with eyes that light up when you enter a room, mist up when they see you down, and stare eternally grateful on you as you listen and take in every word he has to give and through every promise shared-- just like your vows.

[hellishjoel]

say my name 

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in! 

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet.  You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.  “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle. 

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.  

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night. 

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words. 

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor. 

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter. 

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel. 

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker? 

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love. 

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles. 

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up. 

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen. 

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell. 

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made. 

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes. 

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.��� He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste. 

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk. 

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter. 

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing. 

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all. 

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides. 

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter. 

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring. 

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel. 

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you. 

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.” 

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention. 

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention. 

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look. 

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself. 

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in. 

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you. 

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils. 

“Is that your girl, big brother?” 

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose. 

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth. 

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth. 

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch. 

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm. 

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him? 

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink. 

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.” 

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone. 

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger. 

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to. 

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes. 

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire. 

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms. 

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this. 

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.” 

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot. 

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time. 

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends? 

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother.  “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.” 

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday. 

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back. 

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight? 

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off. 

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday. 

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use. 

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment. 

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you. 

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here. 

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother. 

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.” 

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table. 

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared. 

“Please, sit down, beautiful.” 

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel. 

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink. 

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours. 

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body. 

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat. 

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you. 

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh. 

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.” 

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before. 

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape. 

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?  

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead. 

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.  

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around? 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery. 

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so. 

“Joel-”

“Enough.” 

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil. 

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house. 

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast. 

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties. 

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.” 

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him. 

“I fucking hate you, Joel.” 

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately. 

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.” 

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts. 

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door. 

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed. 

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly. 

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is. 

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.  

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.” 

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel. 

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn. 

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.  

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you. 

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold. 

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth. 

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him. 

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.”  He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused. 

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him. 

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient. 

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need. 

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing. 

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement. 

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry. 

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold. 

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day. 

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth. 

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling.  You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything. 

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you. 

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear. 

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug. 

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head. 

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided. 

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now. 

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone. 

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts. 

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy. 

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. 

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. 

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury. 

Too far. Way too fucking far. 

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms. 

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls. 

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his. 

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance. 

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock. 

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine. 

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl. 

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock. 

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars. 

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat. 

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside. 

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell. 

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin. 

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much. 

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted. 

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches. 

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think. 

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name. 

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got. 

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm. 

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure. 

He was like God, your God. 

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's. 

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth. 

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it. 

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-” 

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless. 

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head. 

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though. 

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you. 

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight. 

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.  

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much. 

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today. 

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him. 

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching. 

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open. 

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips. 

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on. 

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge. 

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?” 

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next. 

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.  

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper. 

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him. 

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was. 

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him. 

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited. 

“Fuck you.” You murmur. 

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight. 

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge. 

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear. 

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome. 

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak. 

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished. 

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking. 

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again. 

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain. 

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together. 

“Hm?” He murmurs. 

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.” 

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another. 

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you. 

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.” 

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration. 

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.” 

---

masterlist

A reminder that I no longer use taglists!! to keep up with my writing, follow @hellishfics and turn on notifications to keep updated!

[vampirefest]

Hello, dearest companions in the darkness! Have you missed us, because we've been longing and yearning for you these past long months!

Kinktober ♥︎ is right around the corner and for our second edition of the event, we've compiled some sexy vampire-themed prompts just for you. Check out the list of prompts, and the rules and guidelines below.

We can't wait to see you in October ♥︎

Prompts

WEEK 1: PASSION

♡ Day 1: Coffin

♡ Day 2: Mutual Masturbation

♡ Day 3: Clothed Sex

♡ Day 4: Telepathic / Phone

♡ Day 5: Threesome

♡ Day 6: Shower / Bath

WEEK 2: OBSESSION

♡ Day 7: Dirty Talk

♡ Day 8: Hate sex

♡ Day 9: Outdoors / Public 

♡ Day 10: Stalking

♡ Day 11: Biting / Marking

♡ Day 12: Touch Starved

♡ Day 13: Edging

WEEK 3: DEVOTION

♡ Day 14: Body Worship

♡ Day 15: Master / Slave

♡ Day 16: Bondage / Restraints

♡ Day 17: Soft And Sweet

♡ Day 18: Aftercare

♡ Day 19: Toys

♡ Day 20: Praise Kink

WEEK 4: FASCINATION

♡ Day 21: Oral Fixation

♡ Day 22: Feeding Kink

♡ Day 23: Mirror Sex

♡ Day 24: Voyeurism

♡ Day 25: Fingers

♡ Day 26: Nipple Play

♡ Day 27: Interspecies / Monsterfucking

WEEK 5: EXPRESSION

♡ Day 28: Lingerie / Striptease

♡ Day 29: Mask / Incognito 

♡ Day 30: Leather

♡ Day 31: Costume / Roleplay

Rules and guidelines

This event is 18+ only since it's focused on NSFW content. Not all fills need to be NSFW, but as the perverts that we are, we highly encourage you to get freaky with it. 

All adaptations and versions of the characters are welcome; books, comics, the 1994 film, or the AMC TV show. You can specify which in your post if you think it's relevant.

There are 31 prompts, one for each day, but feel free to use multiple prompts per creation or mix and match as you like.

All fan creations are welcome; fanfiction, fanart, fanvids, edits, podfics, whatever you feel inspired to create.

We are firm believers of “don't like don't read”, so be sure to curate your experience if there are any prompts you don't vibe with.

This is a low-pressure event—whether you fill one day or all of them, the aim is to have fun and be creative.

Cross-posting with other events is welcome, just be sure to satisfy the requirements for this event. 

You can share your work on any platform you like. If you make a post here on Tumblr or Twitter, tag us and we'll reblog it.

Reblogs are spread throughout the day, so don’t worry if yours isn’t up immediately. But if you think we missed it you can DM us.

In your post please include the following: 

Tag with #vfkinktober2024 and/or tag this blog @ vampirefest

Which Day/Prompt you have filled

Any relevant ratings to indicate if the fill is NSFW *Tumblr automatically suppresses any posts with explicit tags so we advise our creators not to tag NSFW if the post itself is not explicit but only links to the explicit version on another site (AO3, Twitter etc.)

Any relevant sensitive tags or trigger warnings—we want to take care of our little community, so please tag appropriately.

You can also add the characters or ship names.

Example of how reblogs will be tagged:

#vfkinktober2024 #day #[prompt being filled] #[type of content; fanart, fanfic etc.] #[trigger warnings that we get from your post] tw #[ship name or pairing]

AO3 Collection

The Vampire Fest AO3 collection will open on October 1st. You can find it here.

We’ll also keep the collection open after October 30th for any late submissions.

How to add your works to the AO3 collection:

Go to [Edit Work] on AO3 and type VFkinktober2024 in the [Post to Collections / Challenges] box that is located below [Summary] and [Notes] and it should pop up in the suggestions.

You can also go to the collection main page and hit the [post to collection] button.

[kataang-week]

Trick or Treat, Kataangers!🎃

Katara and Aang sprites from Distant Horizon. Graphic created by Mod Belle @itsmoonpeaches.

🦇What is Kataang Halloween?

Kataang Halloween is a one-time, three-day mini-event hosted and created by @kataang-week on Tumblr for the first time this year. (However, there is potential for it to happen again in the future.) Kataang Halloween celebrates Kataang with a Halloween theme. All prompts were chosen by the mod team.

🦇Cool, when is it?

Kataang Halloween starts on Thursday, October 31, 2024, and ends on Saturday, November 2, 2024.

🦇What are the prompts?

In honor of Halloween, we're using lucky number 13! There are 13 prompts for each adventure.

"Trick" prompt list:

Old Spirits

Family Secrets

Altered State

Moonlight

Teeth

Demon Claws

The Deep

Offerings

Inner Palace

Lost

Grotto

Cliff Edge

Poison

"Treat" prompt list:

Taffy

Candied Haws

Lanterns

Mid-Autumn

Mooncake

Crunchy Leaves

Warm Drinks

Pumpkins

Chrysanthemum

Sharing

Toadstools

Apple Picking

Paint

🦇So how does this work?

Choose your own adventure! You can take inspiration from the Trick prompts, Treat prompts, or both! Feel free to mix and match prompts to create spooky and/or sweet Kataang content.

Anything you can think of counts as content as long as you fill one or multiple prompts at a time. Fanfics, fanart, gifsets, metas, edits, playlists, moodboards, music, etc.—the sky's the limit.

🦇What are the rules?

Please create your own original pieces. We do not accept AI-made fanworks.

We only accept new works created for Kataang Halloween, not works that are retroactively said to be created for Kataang Halloween. However, you may create something that fills a Kataang Halloween prompt for an ongoing work like a chapter fic or an ongoing series. See this ask for more information.

We accept all range of works. However, bear in mind that this is an all-ages event. If your work contains themes or imagery that may be intended for older audiences, tag and warn people thoroughly. Works with adult content must have an all-ages appropriate preview.

Do not repost other people's works. Reblog their original post if one exists.

If a creator/author/artist has requested you to post their work for them, remember to credit the original and link back to their page.

Be respectful in your fanworks and to others participating or enjoying the event.

🦇How should I tag my work?

The easiest way for us to find your work so we can reblog it to this blog is by using the tag “kataang halloween”. Using “kataang” and “kataangtag” also help. You must tag one of the three in your first five tags otherwise it doesn’t appear in the search. It is also helpful to tag us directly with @kataang-week.

Sometimes even properly tagged posts may not appear when we search the tags, so if you do not see your content reblogged, please let us know.

Once we’ve reblogged it to this blog we add our own tags (a prompt tag and a user tag) for easy organization. This means we can find all the work for one prompt or all the work from one user in one easy click (this also means that if you have changed your username since participating last year you need to let us know so we can update your tag!).

🦇Can I post my stuff other places online too?

Of course you can! However, we won’t be able to reblog anything that isn’t a Tumblr post.

For those of you who will be posting your works on AO3, feel free to add your fic to our Kataang Halloween AO3 collection.

🦇What if I have late submissions for Kataang Week 2024?

While we will not reblog any late submissions for Kataang Week 2024 during the Kataang Halloween event, late submissions for Kataang Week 2024 will still be accepted up until Kataang Week 2025, so don’t be shy and don’t worry about giving the world more Kataang content 💖 We always welcome it!

As always, if you have any questions, feel free to submit an ask to the Kataang Week blog. See you on Halloween, Kataangers!

🦇Who are the mods?

@airbender-dacyon AKA Mod Dan: A Kataang fanfic writer who prefers fluff, but also loves some drama and angst. Mod Dan started writing Kataang stories in 2013 and has helped organize Kataang Week since 2016.

@penguinsledder AKA Mod Atarah: A writer, gif maker, and musician–she enjoys fluffy young adult Kataang and all the ways they complement and parallel each other. She first joined Tumblr for Kataang Week 10 years ago, and started helping out with writing posts and making banners as a mod since 2016!

@itsmoonpeaches AKA Mod Belle: An avid Kataanger with a penchant for angst and mild violence who likes writing. Mod Belle has been a mod since 2021 and helps write posts and social media.

@chocomd AKA Mod Celes: Fanfic writer who adores Kataang for their fun and flirty side but also their bond forged through grief and loss. Mod Celes joined in 2023 and helps with a little bit of everything - whatever needs to be done!

[flufftober]

🌸🍀 Hello and welcome to our (first) Flufftober Spring Edition 🌸🍀

SURPRISE 😁

Yes, we've decided that one month of the year simply isn't enough anymore! So we would like to fill two weeks in March with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, we present you with 14 prompts, some of them neutral, some very much sping-themed.

How does this work?

Pretty much like our regular Flufftober event in October, so you'll find all the common rules and info below the cut. Contrary to the big event though, this one here only runs for two weeks instead of the entire month, and we set the date from March 11th to March 24th! So prompt one is NOT supposed to be posted on March 1st but instead on March 11th! Prompt two is for March 12th, prompt 3 for March 13th, and so on...

Since this is a smaller prompt list, you also won't find any prompt extras to switch these out with, sorry. Maaaybe if this event is a success, we'll think about changing that in upcoming years 😉

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us asks 🥰

Friends, we so hope you love this surprise and that the prompts may inspire a lot of fluffy creations! We wish you a great start to the new year and as always

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're new to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, (grand)parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!

You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.

You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...

Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.

Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #fluffspring2024 Make sure there is NO SPACE between fluff and spring and 2024! We will NOT be checking other variations of this tag!

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #fluffspring2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober Spring Edition 2024 (flufftober_spring_edition_2024)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts

1. New Beginnings

2. Banter, Joking, Fun

3. Spring Cleaning

4. “Let me take care of you.”

5. Honey & Bees

6. Sharing a Blanket

7. Giving someone a Present

8. Breakfast in Bed

9. Daisies

10. Iced Beverage

11. Enjoying the Fresh Air

12. Claiming, Clingy, Possessive

13. “It’s still too cold.” - “No, it’s not.”

14. Putting down Roots

[kafkasmeow]

GI. ꗃ For the Tsaritsa (I)

part 1 part 2 part 3 etc

3.1 k words ─ reaction! ─ wriothesley x reader ─ second pov! reader ─ angst and fluff ─ reader wears heels and a corset but that’s it ─ cryo / dendro ─ i usually don’t write toxic relationships but it made sense this time around

summary ─ their reaction to their partner being a fatui harbinger - including diluc, zhongli, xiao, kazuha, wriothesley ─ reaction, headcanon ─ vision and delusion wielder reader ─ use of unconventional weapons ─ gn reader (with small hiccups in editing)

disclaimer ─ this is a reaction headcanon, with strong mentions of death, injuries, blood and violence and profanities. some of the fics do not have happy endings and the reader is depicted as a villain, unreliable and is not meant to be liked. some of the imagines can be brutal, caution is adviced.

wriothesley

You and the fortress’ warden had met trough simple ways, much like he meets any other person that arrives there. As an inmate. 

You arrived early one morning, dried blood still on your cheeks and clothes, with a dead stare in your eyes, one he knew far too well. Your presence alone prompted rumours over rumours, inmates fighting to get a glance as the guards paraded you trough the halls on your journey to your cell, and the shouts coaxed Wriothesley out of his study with a sleep-drunk expression on his face. 

“Serial killer.” The guards explained quickly when he got close enough to see what the attraction was. “The Chief Justice didn’t even wish to have a trial. Sentenced to life the second he saw them.” But no one knew any more information to help him out, and while he rarely searched for reason in the Fortress of Meropide, he itched for answers. 

He watched you carefully that day, as you were guided forward by the most skilled guards, with chains on your hands and head pushed down, as if your gaze alone would be deadly. You were barely any taller than half of him, standing on week knees that trembled with every step you took, and if it wasn’t for your dead eyes or the blood all over you, he would have wondered if you were really capable of harm.

No one wanted to talk more about the situation behind your imprisonment, at least not for long. They all gritted their teeth and shook their heads when he asked, like even thinking about you would be a death sentence to them, and when he summoned for all records of your actions, he found only a bunch of redacted documents. All he could gather, trough bits and pieces, is that your presence here needed to be kept under wraps for a reason or another, and the scene the police stumbled upon your arrest.

“It was a bloodbath, your grace.” Clorinde told him once as she came to him for an errand from the Iudex. She seemed off, even her emotionless eyes were filled with some degree of fear in them. “I’m no stranger to death but this,” She cleared her throat and chose to cut their chat short, settling on a warning. Something smelled fishy, he would conclude, but this was not his first rodeo with difficult cases, and yours didn’t take long to crack.

“Keep an eye on them.” And he did, but perhaps not in a way she would approve of. Wriothesley found himself colliding with you every single step he took outside of his study then on, and never under intentional circumstances. 

The first time it happened, you were simply eating at the canteen when chaos broke loose. He had barely exited his office, just in time to see one of the inmates throw his plate at you in challenge. “You filthy rat! How dare you-” The warden watched bewildered as guards jumped from their place, taking the man away and you simply sat there, like nothing happened. Food dripped down your clothes and face, but you simply brought your spoon to your mouth and ate quietly without complaining. All the while dark and hostile eyes watched you from every corner of the hall, and your own where chaining Wriothesley’s feet to the ground he stood on with something akin fear.

The second time you met was in the infirmary. Sigewinne had your bloody knuckles in her tiny hands with bandages cradled in her lap and alcohol stained cotton agains your open cuts. The first thing Wriothesley noticed then was the bruised corner of your lips, your bleeding nose and the open cuts on your cheeks. His heart stopped beating for a second, a disbelieving puff leaving his nose. You were so much trouble already, just by your existence in his prison, and now you were causing problems yourself? 

His nurse, however, had pity in her eyes. She tutted. “I can’t stand having to bandage you up every single day. They keep trying to snuff them up, your grace! This poor soul.” She protested, and that was the first time he ever heard your voice. “It’s quite alright, miss.” Your face stayed cold, but there was kindness in your eyes, and your voice was far softer than he thought it’d be. And he couldn’t help but sit with the two of you, pushing Sigewinne’s buttons until he had every single name of the ones that tried to “snuff” you out.

It was much later that he found out what had happened exactly, and why people were so, so hostile towards you. After a couple of weeks of sitting with you and Sigewinne in the infirmary, he couldn’t handle the stress any longer. 

Wriothesley had you sitting in his office with a calming rose tea settled on the table in front. The sweet smell made your shoulders ease and you begun wondering if he would have really done so much for you if you were called in for some troubles you caused. His soft eyes, however, reassured you, and you took the delicate mug to your lips. Wriothesley didn’t say much afterwards. He simply called you in the morning and had you sit with him, giving you a book to read or a pile of paper to sort trough, and never talked to you a word more. He was protecting you, you realised. From the other prisoners, who were still hungry for blood, even as you left your chamber straight thing in the morning and returned late night. 

Little did the ice duke know, it was the inmates he was doing a favour to. 

With each day passing, more and more eyes stared you down. More and more rumours surfaced. More and more and more and more and you were suffocating upon their vicious presences, fingers itching for something you could not allow yourself to give into. 

“Do you have a family out there?” The warden asked all of a sudden one day. You snapped from your trance, a soft “huh?” Getting past your lips. “Do you have a family on the surface? I don’t know, a lover? Parents? Someone?” Your fingers tightened on the book you were skimming and gave him a weak nod after weighting your words. “I have a red fox with a clipped tail. He usually bares his teeth when he sees me, or any other pet around my home. And a Black Widow,” Wriothesley gave you an unsure stare, and his curiosity coaxed you to speak again. “That counts as family, does it not?” 

Question over question followed the days following. Favourite place in Fontaine? Favourite book? At first it was trivial questions, easy for you to mumble one worded answers, until they were not, and you found you didn’t wish to speak one word at a time any longer. His presence became comforting, and after work, you’d come straight to his office to share the latest idea you thought of. He would sit down and listen, laugh and smile to you, and for once, you didn’t feel the weight of your duty crush your shoulders any longer. So how could you not crack when his fingers reached for a loose strand of your hair and how could he not let his ice-cold palm rest against your burning skin. 

“What happened to you?” He asked softly. “How did you get here?” And how could you not indulge him.

Pulling away, you sat in the couch next to him, and he placed his coat over your shoulders as you brought a freshly brewed tea cup in your lap. “I was part of a sick joke.” You muttered trough gritted teeth and tightly pressed lips. To your surprise, he didn’t notice the way your reflection did the complete opposite in the shaky tea surface, smiling like an expecting devil. So you told him pretty lies, weaved together by a fraying string of truth. You couldn’t tell him that you killed a whole ballroom of nobles at the command of a frigid queen, so you told him you were part of the goods they were betting on. You couldn’t tell him that you were doing it for your own selfish reasons, especially as you watched your siblings bleed to death, so you told him you snapped in anger when an old man called you his personal toy. Lies and lies until his eyes were wide in horror and hands trembling on anger. You forced tears to run down your cheeks, and abstained from smiling when he brought you in a shaky hug. You had him under your fingertips, and the praise you’d receive when returning home with his head on a pedestal made your toes curl. 

But something changed. You never felt guilty for lying and twisting people to your own pleasures but somehow, when you looked into Wriothesley’s eyes and he watched back with such a sweet stare, your knees would shake with shame. He lived trough this, you realised in horror. He lived your story once before, and your shame would deepen the more he opened up to you. Each moment when his longing kisses would caress your cheeks, a piece of you lost itself into a puddle of unfamiliar guilt.

You knew the little love you built on a foundation of lies would crumble soon. You had a bargain with a certain mistress, and her patience was thinning as seconds passed. 

Then that day came, not that long after the chaos wrecked by a certain red fox with a clipped tail  and three little rascals you had no name for. He told you specifically not to come to his chambers at that time. He had a guest, someone dangerous, and he wished to keep you away from their grasps. Little did you know, her presence was there for none other than yourself. You ran out of time, and now you had no way of ever coming clean to him. 

The room around him felt suffocating, as though it was closing in and getting smaller and smaller until he couldn’t handle the claustrophobic sensation anymore. Wriothesley tugged at his tie, clearing his throat with an awkward pang in his voice. He sat at his desk, a place he usually associated with comfort. Under any usual circumstances, it would be comforting, really. A mellow feeling would settle in his chest at the though of afternoon tea with a plume in his hands, paperwork in piles at his desk. He couldn’t help it, the routine comforted him more than anything, almost more than your sweet voice did.

Across from him, with her hands on her crossed knees, was Father herself. She sat with her back straight, like a noble who grew with manners rooted into her very being. She knew something he didn’t, her very presence in his office proving as such, yet eyes reminded him of the status he would never have, of the scum his very being meant to her, and he couldn’t stand it. He sighed, trying to mirror her indifference and his nails dug crescent shapes into his palms, knuckles white against the seat’s armrests. 

“I deeply apologise for the inconvenience my children have caused you.” Father finally spoke, feigning a deeply annoyed expression. Her fingers massaged the bridge of her nose, and she rolled her shoulders. Wriothesley wished to scoff, answer that “inconvenience” was a small word for the chaos that her “children” brought upon the poor warden, but he only nodded deeply. “But that is not all there is, is it?” He chimed in. She only nodded.

“As much as I quite enjoy idle chatting, there is a request I have to you.” How arrogant, he thought to himself. First they use his fortress as a hub for their shady plans, and now they want a favour. He had it in himself to refuse without even hearing her out, but his lips pressed against each other in curiosity. 

“Is it about that ginger harbinger of yours?” At his words, her eyebrows raised, only for a second, and before he could take pride in her confusion, her face was back to the same unreadable expression. “No, not quite. I am not very interested in the business of my fellow harbingers, you see.” She let her elbow rest on her knee, and her chin in her palm. Her stare was unchanging. “Usually.” She added suddenly. 

Unbeknownst to the warden, at the very same moment he was serving tea with his guest, you were being helped into thick furs and expensive silks by one of Arlecchino’s children. The cat girl remained quiet as she laced your corset and draped the fur coat around your shoulders. An uniform that grew unfamiliar to you with the months you’ve spent in cheap jail clothing. 

“Then, if it’s not about the ginger, what are you here for, Father?” Wriothesley pressed harder, his annoyance beginning to reflect in the way he spoke. The woman smiled and nodded her head before she spoke again, a new fire burning in her eyes. “You see, I made a bargain with one of my colleagues. Naturally, when they failed to show up with their payment, I began to fret.” He listened, unsure of how her story tied to the fortress or him at all. The man puffed. “Imagine my surprise when I found out they’d been arrested and sent to the most guarded jail in all of Teyvat!” The Father’s hands flew, palms upwards as if she demanded answers from him, and he stilled at her words. 

Your heels clicked agains the floor of the fortress, and you felt their eyes prickle at your back just like they did your first day here. Lynette and Lyney followed behind you with confidence in each of their step, like they lived for the attention, and you felt your body slip back into old habits as you walk straighter, taller, prouder. 

Back in the office, Wriothesley pushed himself up from his desk and took cautious steps to the sofa, where you’d always seat with a pleasant smile on your lips. “And pray tell, who really is this colleague of yours?” Arlecchino only shrugged. “They should be joining us soon, really soon.” And the second her threatening words left her lips, the copper door to his chambers twisted.

No one spoke as a dangerous clicking of heels took to the stairs, followed by the much softer steps  of the two children. When you reached the study, you were met with the sturdy back of your so called lover, and the bemused face of Father, who barked a laugh when you nodded your head her way. “You look pathetic. Like you haven’t seen sun in months.” The warden didn’t dare turn around, already feeling the edge of betrayal, a blade that danced around his neck right in this moment. But you refused to cower before someone like Arlecchino, ranked underneath you yet cocky enough to mock you. 

“Because I have not.” You said dangerously, and the man between you two snapped his head back to look at you with wild eyes. He took you in with fury and disbelief in his gaze, watching how your expensive clothes hugged your body and how the traditional Snezhnayan accessories fit you, like they were part of your very existence. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even as Arlecchino threw you a jewel he refuse to acknowledge the very existence of. Wriothesley searched for your eyes, hoping for you to half turn around and act as though you had no idea what was happening, but you stood tall and braved his gaze back. As though you never shared any kisses, any nights or any ‘I love you’s with him. 

You carefully pinned the cryo delusion next to the dendro vision on your coat’s collar, and it fell in place as though it was always meant to stay there, like a piece of the puzzle that was you had finally snapped into place, and he saw the truth he knew crumble before his own grasps. “Let me properly introduce myself, then.” You spoke to your lover. “My name is [Y/n], the Third Harbinger under her majesty, the Tsaritsa. I would say it has been a pleasure to stay in the Fortress of Meropide, but I’m afraid I would lie.”  

To say he was betrayed was an understatement. Wriothesley would hate you before you even told him the whole truth, and he would wait for no answers before trying to take you down himself.

He would fail, of course, and once his face would meet the cold floor, he would break with silent tears. In the same time, the poison you slipped in his goblet the day before would begin to kick in. It was not enough to kill him, you assured, just enough to make him sleepy. It would keep him obedient for the travels, after all, he was your newest pet. Before he could make out what your words even meant, his eyes would close and he would find himself in a deep slumber. 

Arlecchino took payment in favours, you learned, drawing patterns between her previous bargains and the one she would strike with you that day in the Duke’s study. But you couldn’t complain, not even when she left you to deal with a prison full of violent inmates. “Don’t kill them all.” She called while taking her children and leaving you alone in the study. 

When Wriothesley opened up his eyes, he was no longer in his chambers, but under thick layers of fur, and when his eyes gazed upon the window next to the bed he laid in, in horror, he realised he was no longer in Fontaine either. 

It would take you a long time to convince him to even listen to your explanation, but he never attempted to leave your side when he followed you from Snezhnaya to Fontaine and back. Not even when he simply refused to speak to you all together. The Tsaritsa would laugh with a full chest at how foolish his love for you was, and you couldn’t help but agree. 

But he stayed. No matter how mad, he stayed by your side. And when you’d come back drained in blood and death, he would simply take your fur mantle off and kiss your skin as he’d rid you of your guilt. 

In the end, he’d never really trust you again like before, but you were willing to sit by his side and learn to love him truly, safe to say more than an owner would love a guard dog, while he would learn to trust you again. He’d forgive you, but never forget the betrayal. 

[tamlinweek]

Tamlin Week 2025: Rules, Prompts, and FAQ

Currently accepting submissions for Tamlin Creator Appreciation! Click here to fill out the form!

First of all, we'd like to thank you all for the support and prompt suggestions! We'd also like to thank @geniemillies for our brand new icon and banner; it's so lovely, so make sure to send them all your love!

The prompts have been chosen for Tamlin Week 2025, which will run Sunday, April 13 - Saturday, April 19. Every day will have two prompts for you to choose from.

This post is intended to serve as a masterpost for the entire event. It will include dates, prompts, rules, and a FAQ. Make sure to click the read more to get ALL the information!

Day 1; Sunday, April 13: Forgiveness/Change

Day 2; Monday, April 14: Dark Spring/Spring Mythology & Celebrations

Day 3; Tuesday, April 15: Polycules & Platonics/Worship

Day 4; Wednesday, April 16: Powers/Hair

Day 5; Thursday, April 17: Biting/Chest

Day 6; Friday, April 18: Spy/Warband

Day 7; Saturday, April 19: Free Day/Crossovers & Alternate Universe

All works must focus on Tamlin! Any and all ships are allowed, as long as the ship with Tamlin is at the forefront. You are also welcome to create general, non-ship content for him.

Any and all gender/sexuality headcanons are allowed! And no ship-bashing, please.

There are 2 prompts for each day. You can choose one or both of them to inspire your work. The last day includes a Free Day, so go crazy! If none of the prompts speak to you, feel free to create your own Tamlin content on any day. The prompts are meant to promote creativity, not restrict it. If you have questions about any of the prompts, you can message us.

NSFW/Mature content is allowed, as long as you tag everything appropriately and follow the rules of each platform. So on tumblr, that means following their guidelines for NSFW images. On AO3, that means giving your fic the appropriate rating and tags.

Any kind of creative content is encouraged! Fanfiction, fanart, edits, playlists, headcanons, moodboards, ANYTHING!

That being said, AI art is not permitted, and will not be reblogged.

Works must be created specifically for this event; previously published works will not be reblogged. New chapter updates of previously existing fics are allowed, as long as they are posted for the first time during this Tamlin Week event.

(click under the readmore for FAQ, more resources, and last year's masterpost)

How do I participate in Tamlin Week?

Create your content and post it on tumblr. If you post on AO3, make sure to share the link on tumblr. Also make sure to add it to the Tamlin Week AO3 collection, which will be posted about later. Tag this blog in the main body of your post (@tamlinweek). In the tags, tag "tamlinweek2025"

If we don’t reblog your post within 24 hours, feel free to send us a message with the link! I’m sure we all know how unreliable the tumblr tagging system is, we would never intentionally not reblog someone’s post.

If I’m not a creator, how can I support Tamlin Week?

The best way to support content creators leading up to and during Tamlin Week is to let them know you support them! Reblog and comment on their work, send Tamlin content into this blog for us to post, etc. We’ll be reblogging Tamlin content from now up until the week itself. Supporting that work now will encourage creators for the event week itself.

Who is in charge of Tamlin Week?

This blog and the event are being run by @goforth-ladymidnight and @praetorqueenreyna, as well as a new moderator @highlordofkrypton.

I have a question that isn’t here!

Feel free to send us asks, we’d love to hear from you all! They can be questions, headcanons, ideas, or anything else! If you have a question you’d like us to answer privately, be sure to let us know in the ask. Otherwise, all other asks will be published on our blog.

Click here for last year's master post!

[youngroyals-events]

Young Royals Kinktober 2024

For our first YR Kinktober, we thought we'd do it bingo style! Full explanation below.

If you haven't taken part in a bingo type challenge before, the rules are very simple: it's just like regular bingo but with no prize at the end. (Except bragging rights or that warm glow of satisfaction of course!) You mark off a square on a bingo card by posting a fanwork that fills that prompt.

Rules and guidelines are behind the 'Keep reading' link.

Bingo rules:

You can choose any card (A to E) you like, or more than one if you're feeling brave.

There's no minimum number of works to participate, and no requirement to fill a whole card - if you post one work, that's a win!

Equally, there's no maximum - feel free to post as many works as you like.

It's absolutely fine to combine different prompts into one fanwork as well.

'Free space' is creator's choice - you can steal a prompt from another card or do your own thing altogether.

BINGO is a row of three (down, across or diagonal) on one bingo card.

FULL HOUSE is hitting all nine squares on one bingo card.

SUPER BINGO is getting a row of three on two or more different cards.

Or if you're feeling really inspired (and don't need food or sleep!), ULTRA BINGO is a full house of nine on more than one card.

Just don't forget to post your completed card(s) and brag about it at the end of the month so we can all see how you've done!

General rules/guidelines:

All types of fanworks are welcome! Fics, art, edits etc. or anything at all.

This is a fandom-wide event, not Wilmon-specific - though Wilmon focused works are welcomed of course! Your works can focus on any of the characters/pairings/polyships from the world of Young Royals. And no need to stick to one set of characters or ship on your bingo card either, you can mix it up as much as you want.

You can post your works on any day within the month of October, in any order.

You can post your works directly to Tumblr, or post them to AO3 and link them on Tumblr.

Remember to tag us (@youngroyals-events) in the body of the post so we can reblog it.

Please post your AO3 works to the collection 'Young_Royals_Kinktober_2024' (you can type out the name in the box if it doesn't auto-fill).

Kinktober is traditionally focused on explicit works but any and all ratings are allowed if it fits the theme.

If you are posting an explicit work, please use the tag #NSFW and we'll do the same when we reblog.

For fanart, please tag it #NSFW and follow Tumblr community guidelines so that people can avoid the post if they want to. You may want to use a cut/read more or add a mature content warning.

For fics, please include tags and/or warnings for everything they contain. This makes it easier for those who want to read the things you've written to find them, and for those who don't to avoid them.

Any questions on any of the above, please leave a comment on this post or in a reblog (that's easiest for us to see and respond to the question quickly).

Have fun!

[laura1633]

Hey Guys,

I said I would set a small fic challenge up for Lestappen's birthdays so here it is. I'm not going to set up a separate blog for it as it is just going to be a casual low key thing and it will be easier for me to manage from my main blog so I will just pin this note. It's going to be absolute complete chaos to start with as I have no idea how to do things or how it works so please be patient as things inevitably go wrong!

Dates and Guidelines are all below, this will outline how to submit a prompt as well as details about how to fill a prompt.

Key Dates: Submitting prompts: 2nd July - 16th July Claiming prompts: 2nd July - 16th October Posting finished works : 30th Sept - 16th October.

Guidelines for submitting a prompt 1. Prompts can be submitted by following this link and clicking on the 'Prompt Form' on the left hand side (you will need an ao3 account to do this) 2. All prompts must be centred around Lestappen (although it doesn't necessarily mean it has to be a romantic relationship). 3. Prompts can include as many other characters as you like (including other drivers, team principles, other sports stars etc) as long as the focus is on Max and Charles. As an example, you can prompt a poly relationship for Max, Charles and Oscar and Oscar can feature prominently as long as both Max and Charles also play a central role to the story, this is a Lestappen fest after all! 4. You can prompt fluff or smut or anything else you can think of. If your prompt contains sensitive topics then please try and use the tags accordingly when prompting. 5. Prompts are preset to be anonymous. There is a box at the bottom of the prompt form that states 'Semi-anonymous Prompt?' leave this box ticked to keep your prompt anonymous. 6. You will need an ao3 account to submit using the steps above. If you don't have an ao3 account but would still like to submit a prompt then please send an ask to me but clearly label it "Lestappen Birthday Fest prompt". If its not labelled I won't know that it is a prompt. Please try and limit the number of prompts sent through asks as I think I will be limited in the amount I am able to add to ao3. Once I hit the limit I will update here.

Guidelines for claiming a prompt 1. The prompts can be found here and you are free to claim them as soon as you want. You do not need to wait for the prompt window to close before claiming your prompts. 2. Feel free to claim as many prompts as you feel you will be able to complete. There are no consequences to not fulfilling a prompt but it’s better not to over claim if you know you won’t have the time to fulfil them.  3. The claims and fills are not set to anonymous so it will show that you have claimed the prompt. However, there are no consequences whatsoever in claiming a prompt and then having to drop it. 4. It is fine to claim a prompt someone else has already claimed. You can also claim your own prompts.

Guidelines for filling a prompt 1. You can fulfil your claim at any time but the collection will be set as unrevealed until the 30th September so your fic will not go live until the 30th September. This also means you can go into your work and edit it right up until 30th September. 2. When completing your work on ao3 there is an option that states 'Set a different publication date' so I would suggest setting the date as 30th September. 3. Whilst the collection will go live on 30th September (Max's birthday) you can keep fulfilling your claims right up until the 16th October (Charles' Birthday) 4. Please make sure you tag your works in regards to sensitive topics. 5. Whilst the aim is to get at least some works posted in the period 30th Sept - 16th Oct I do recognise that if you are writing a longer fic you might need some more time and so I will leave the collection open for people to add to it after the 16th if this is necessary.

What if I want to submit my own piece of work rather than fill a prompt? The very first prompt on the page is a free prompt, you can claim this if you want to post your own piece of work to the collection. Does it have to be a fic? Absolutely not, you can post artwork too if you would like.

Still have questions? If you still have any questions then please feel free to send me an ask either anon or not. Please just be patient as I might not respond straight away, unfortunately I have a very boring job that also takes up my time!

There will be some issues at the start whilst I sort things out so we will just see how it all goes!

Remember it's all for fun with no pressure ❤️

[richonneevents]

Richonne Fictober 2024 Rules, Guidelines, & Calendar

Richonne Fictober 2024 is a 31 day challenge for fanfiction writers/creators to write/create and publish a Richonne-centric story or related content everyday for the month of October.

Fics should be between 100 and 5,000 words. Rick and Michonne must be the main pairing. Richonne is an interracial pairing, so be mindful of tropes and language that perpetuates racism and misogynoir. Rick is a canonically disabled character, so be mindful of using tropes and language that is ableist. Fanartists should be mindful of not whitewashing Michonne, Andre, and RJ in their pieces.

Please tag @richonneevents and use the tag: #richonnefictober24

Be sure to tag your prompt and which day you are filling.

In addition to Richonne-centric fanfiction, creators are encouraged to make fanart; playlists; edits; moodboards; rec lists; graphics; podfics; gifsets; photo sets; fanvids etc.

WEEK 1

Day 1: Making Caramel / Candy Apples

Day 2: Seasonal Shopping (Clothes, decor, etc.)

Day 3: “The leaves are changing!”

Day 4: “Pumpkin spice...what?!”

Day 5: Autumn Breeze

WEEK 2

Day 6: Overcast Morning

Day 7: Bobbing for Apples

Day 8: Pumpkin Patch Visit

Day 9: Rainy Day

Day 10: Scarecrow

Day 11: Haunted Hayride / Haunted House

Day 12: Horror Movie Marathon

WEEK 3

Day 13: Jumping in A Leaf Pile

Day 14: Warm Apple Cider / Hot Chocolate etc

Day 15: Corn Maze

Day 16: By The Fire(place)

Day 17: Candles 

Day 18: Flannel

Day 19: Nestled Under Blankets

WEEK 4

Day 20: Festival 

Day 21: First Frost

Day 22: Kissing In The Rain

Day 23: Baking Pies

Day 24: Cemetery Stakeout 

Day 25: Black Cat

Day 26: Dead-End

WEEK 5

Day 27: Underneath The Sky

Day 28: Full Moon

Day 29: Carving Jack o’ Lanterns

Day 30: Costume Party

Day 31: Trick or Treat

[toyeday]

JOE TOYE DAY 2024 - FAQ AND MORE

When is it?

Wednesday, November 27 to Friday, November 29

What’s the point?

To celebrate a lovely side character and have a small holiday event as a fandom!

How do I participate?

Make any fanwork related to or including Joe Toye and post them on Tumblr. Use the tag #toyeday2024 or tag us @toyeday anywhere in your post. If you can't make any fanwork, reblogs and hype is always welcome and encouraged.

What’s accepted?

Absolutely anything! Art, videos, edits, playlists, meta, fanfiction, and more. This includes ships like Luztoye, Toyelarkey, etc :).

Is there going to be an official prompt/theme post for this event?

I’ll be making a completely optional one that will be posted in five days. To have a say in colors, songs, and themes for the three days of the event, fill out the form below :).

OPTIONAL FORM FOR TOYE DAY 2024

[nifexchange24]

Announcing: The Nirvana in Fire Fanwork Exchange 2024

Sign-ups — 1st-14th Oct

Prompt claiming — 17th-21st Oct

Assignments — 24th Oct

Check-in — 1st-5th Dec

Deadline — 21st Dec

Gift reveals — 25th Dec

Creator reveals — 31st Dec

The Nirvana in Fire Fanwork Exchange is an event for anyone who's a fan of the show Nirvana in Fire, its sequel series The Wind Blows in Changlin, the novel, manhua, audio drama and any other associated media I've forgotten.

It takes the form of an anonymous fanwork gift exchange: gifters will be matched with recipients based on prompts submitted by participants during sign-up. All participants will create a gift and receive one.

The event is open to all types of fanworks: fic, vids, visual art, crafts, podfic, etc.

Announcements will be crossposted to Tumblr, Discord and Dreamwidth.

If you would like an invite to the Langya Hall discord server, which has a channel for discussing the exchange, please let me know.

How It Works

During the sign-up period, you will be able to submit a Google Form with a list of 3 prompts for fanworks you would like to receive, as well as space to list any Do/Do Not Wants. The link will be posted on the DW community, the Langya Hall discord, and on this Tumblr.

On 17th Oct, participants will be sent an anonymous list of sets of prompts and asked to rank their top 5 choices. Once all participants have responded, the mods will do their best to match everyone according to their preferences.

On 24th Oct, participants will be sent their individual assignment: the prompt list of the person they have been matched with, along with that person's AO3 username.

On 31st Oct, the prompt list will be made public, for anyone, whether they signed up or not, to creat additional 'treats' for the prompters.

There will be a mandatory check-in 1st-5th Dec. Participants will be asked whether they are on track to complete a gift by the final deadline of 21st Dec. Participants who miss this deadline without contacting the mods will be assumed to have defaulted and their assignment will be sent to a pinch-hitter.

Gifts should be submitted to the AO3 collection (still under construction) by the end of the day on 21st Dec. Participants will still be able to make edits, but the gift should be in a giftable state by then.

On 25th Dec, the gifts will be revealed: everyone will be able to see all works in the collection, though the creators will still remain anonymous.

On 31st Dec, the names of the creators will be revealed.

TL;DR: Sign up with prompts, choose the prompts you'd like to fill, make a thing, post a thing, get a thing, shower your fellow creators with love and comments.

Minimum gift requirements

Treats

Fic: 500 words

Podfic: 5 mins

Art: 1 artwork (B&W or colored)

Video: 30 secs to 1 min, depending on complexity

Crafts: 1 picture and/or documentation of the finished project

If you don't want to sign up as a full exchange participant, you can still create fills for prompts as 'treats'. The prompt list will be made public on 31st Oct. Treats can be posted to the AO3 community and tagged with 'NIFTREAT24'.

General Points

BYOB: Bring your own beta. In previous years, the exchange has offered a beta-matching service, but we're running at reduced capacity this year, so if you want your work beta-read, please organise this yourself.

Timezones: Deadlines for participants are 11.59pm of the date in question, wherever you might be in the world. Timings for the mod doing stuff are based on 'when I have a spare hour during that day' and I can't be more precise than that.

AO3: You'll be able to add your work to the Nirvana in Fire 2024 Exchange collection on AO3 (currently under construction but you can see last year's collection here). If you need an AO3 invite, we can arrange this, but please let me know before December if possible.

Contact a mod: If you're in the Langya Hall discord server, feel free to ping me @ sinni-ok-sessi on there, or @ withans for a PM. You can also contact me @sinni-ok-sessi or via the @nifexchange24 Tumblr. Nominally I am on Dreamwidth, but I almost never remember to check it, so that's not your best bet. If you sign up, you will receive instructions for how to email me.

[sapphicscholar]

Inaugural Hacks Fandom Gift Exchange!

Hello, hello! This year, we are launching a winter gift exchange for Hacks! Styled like other major femslash gift exchanges, you will sign up with 2 prompts, which will be assigned to another participant, and you will in turn receive the prompts of another participant. These prompts will be shared individually in early November, and you will have until December 20th to create and post a fan work (fic, art, gif sets, manips/edits, fanvid) for one of those prompts!

I’ve posted an FAQ below, and you can sign up to participate at the following link: https://forms.gle/RG6uofVYvV9HvNyQ7

~~~

Event FAQ:

Can I sign up if I don’t write fic?

This event is for all kinds of fan creators! The form will give you an opportunity to check off what kinds of work you are interested in making (fic, art, gif sets, and/or vids). While we will be using a sorting mechanism, we’ll add tags to prompts to help ensure folks signing up to create vids or gif sets won’t be given someone whose prompts are nearly impossible to fill in that medium.

Can I sign up and drop out later?

Please don’t! For this kind of event, drop outs pose a big problem! Rather than having a simple theme day where anyone can post, a gift exchange means your prompts have been assigned to someone else (who will gift you a creative work), and you have gotten another participants’ prompts. Making sure that no one is left without a gift on reveal day means that someone will have to race around to fill your prompts at the last minute.

So should I just not participate if I don’t know if I’ll have the time?

One thing you can offer to do if you’re one of those people who loves the adrenaline rush of a looming deadline is to let me know that you *might* be interested in being a pinch hitter in case we do have drop outs or situations where life happens. This doesn’t obligate you, but it lets me know that I can reach out near the deadline to check in and see if you’re up for it!

Can I use AI to help create my gift work?

No. While other fan events may have different rules, for this event we ask that you not use AI at any stage in creation (idea generation, drafting fic, creating art, editing, etc.). These kinds of events are designed to foster community; we put time, energy, and real creative labor into making something to gift to another, and there is far more value in something with a couple tiny quirks or typos of handmade art than there is in the cold sterility of AI-generated outputs. Generative AI is, per the admissions of its own creators, possible only because of the non-consensual theft of vast troves of creative labor via large scale data scraping. These workers have been neither paid nor credited, but their labor is lining the pockets of corporate billionaires who continue to decimate the environment in an era of worsening climate catastrophe while exploiting invisibilized, barely paid workers in the Global South. Anyone found to be using AI will not have their work posted in the collection and will be barred from participation in future fan events.