#proceed formulations

[proceedformulations]

Calcium and vitamin D3 (also called cholecalciferol or colecalciferol) are both in a Calisford Capsule and Syrup. It is used to treat people who don't get enough vitamin D and calcium. It is used to treat things like osteoporosis and helps keep bones and teeth healthy. Take a Calsiford Tablet as your doctor or pharmacist tells you to.

Proceed Formulations is dedicated to supplying its customers with high-quality prescription choices across a wide range of therapeutic categories, including Allopathic, Nutraceutical, and Softgelatin Products. Proceed Formulations follows all regulations put forth by the Indian Pharmaceutical Association and the World Health Organization.

[rabbitrah]

It's soooo crazy how when Thornton proposes and Margaret shoots him down like a dog in the street, she thinks to herself "I never liked him. I always acted totally indifferent to him. I never thought about myself and him." But then after they have no interaction with each other for a while after that, she thinks "I miss our antagonistic friendship :/" and then, after that, when she knows that he knows that she committed the unforgivable and shameful sin of Lying to a Police Officer she deadass thinks to herself "It seems so hard to lose him as a friend just when I had begun to feel his value." Like GIRL! The revisionism!!! The self deception! Is the friendship you had with Mr. Thornton in the room with us now?

[whisperofthewaves]

oh god I woke up already bone-deep tired and then overdosed caffeine, and the guy at work who's my direct supervisor is the living breathing personification of that xkcd meme about scientists dramatically overestimating the amount of knowledge a normal person has regarding their field.

[tpwrtrmnky]

exposition

[ID: Four panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: A blue person with sunglasses and dog ears is talking to an orange person with dog ears.

Blue: "Ah, young Orange."

Orange: "I, uh, aren't you younger than-"

Blue: "I understand that you have approached me to discuss an issue. As is the doctrine of our anarcho-caninist commune, we shall conduct this meeting in expository form, speaking as if intent on being observed by an unknown third party in need of being spoonfed everything we, as individuals, are already aware of."

Orange: "Wait-"

Blue: "Let us begin by stating our medical histories: I am on gel that makes you blue and have had dog ear implants."

Orange: "I uh. I know. You told me yesterday."

Blue: "It is your turn. State it!"

Orange: "…You can look at me and tell that I'm-"

Blue: "You cannot rely on the third party knowing how you became orange!"

Orange: "…Gel. It's gel."

Panel 2: An extremely tall, hot pink person with fluffy bits around their chest and extremities, as well as floppy dog ears and a bandana worn as a mask, interjects into the conversation between the two.

Hot Pink: "I sense that this discussion is at risk of becoming an argument. Let us recite the Acknowledgment of Legitimacy, as per the doctrine."

Blue and Hot Pink: "We recognise that opinions are held by individuals and do not represent everyone of their chromatic alignment. We understand that if any individual is found to be in the wrong, it does not delegitimize their identity, only their viewpoint."

Orange: "I uh. Does anyone not believe this? Who are we disagreeing with here?"

Hot Pink: "I am on injections that make you hot pink and have taken topical fluffy fur gel. Now we may proceed."

Panel 3: Zoom in on Hot Pink and Blue as they continue spoonfeeding unnecessary exposition to you, the reader.

Blue: "Before proceeding we must also clarify that the doctrine is an idiosyncracy of our commune, and not reflective of wider anarchist nor caninist movements."

Hot Pink: "Indeed. Furthermore, I would like to establish that we exist in the context of the past affecting the present, as individuals with personal histories that affect our present state, and have established this doctrine in response to said history."

Orange: "I- how- what history- are you explaining that the past exists??

Who is this for?

How did you decide to talk like this?"

Panel 4: A green person with a tail and long, pointy dog ears appears opposite of Orange to make it all make sense.

Green: "You bring up an excellent question. I am on a combination of pills that make you green and pills that block my naturally occurring red, which I do not personally consider a medical condition but which is often pathologized as such. Before proceeding and getting to the point we must go over the historical context in which this conversation is taking place."

Orange: "Wait, no, I know history, please-"

Green: "Caninism, as formulated by Barx in the 1800s…"

End ID.]

Bonus panel:

[ID 2: Presumably sometime later, the green dogperson is still talking.

Green: "You see, the Expository Doctrine is primarily a performance art critique of the tendency to demand that media explains everything to the viewer, and how pandering to this demand causes dialogue to be unnatural, stilted and unnecessarily verbose."

Orange: "I know. You say this every day."

Green: "Indeed, part of the performance serves to emphasize how in a serial but episodic medium, such mandatory exposition quickly becomes frustrating and repetitive!"

End ID 2.]

Start - Previous - Next

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | extra: Dinner date with Minho

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3k (part 1)

Chapter Summary: Officer Seo Changbin arrests you and has some one on one time with you before taking you to the station. You meet the other officers. (This chapter is Changbin focused, but a little bit happens at the end with the other officers.)

a/n: This fic will be in multiple parts because I get too impatient not to share what I’ve written so far. There will be two, possibly three installments turns out it will be more like 6 (tag list is open).

I refer to the officers as “Officer Hyunjin”, “Officer Minho” etc just to make it quick to identify the characters. 

The whole premise is planned and explained in the fic. The story is purely fantasy, but please be mindful of content warnings, as it has potentially triggering content. I want you to be safe here on my blog.

CW: planned fantasy role play, police arrest, nudity, unprotected sex in a semi public space, pain kink, roleplay pain, anal play, blow jobs, cum eating, name calling (both praising and degrading), reference to sexual acts, imprisonment, restraints (handcuffing).

🚨🚨🚨🚨

The lights of the police patrol car reflect in your rear view mirror, signaling for you to stop your car.

“Dammit.” You sigh as you pull your car over to the side of the road.

You watch in your side mirror as a police officer emerges from his patrol car, and your heart rate increases when you see the well built figure approach your window. 

“Everything okay, Officer?” You say innocently.

“I’m gonna need you step out of the vehicle, Ma'am.” He says sternly.

“But I wasn’t speeding.” You protest as he opens your car door and pulls you out.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me!” You writhe against him, but he’s too strong.

“No. But you’ve just resisted arrest, so you’re in big trouble little bunny.” He slams you front first against the side of your car and proceeds to handcuff your hands around your back.

“You’ve got the wrong woman, Dude!” You cry.

“That’s Officer Seo Changbin, to you.” He tears you away from your car abruptly and tugs you towards his police car. “In.” He throws you in the back of the car like a rag doll.

“But my car!” You wail, as he slams the door and hops into the driver’s seat.

“Shh. It’ll be impounded. Now not another word.”

“But you haven’t read me my rights! You can’t do this!”

But Officer SEO Changbin ignores you as he drives away.

After half an hour of you demanding he explain what you’ve actually been arrested for, and half an hour of being met with silence, Officer Changbin pulls off the main road and parks his car in a deserted space under a bridge.

Alarm bells go off in your head as you look around. The area is absolutely deserted. You frantically try to formulate a plan to escape. But even if you did escape, you’re fucking handcuffed.

The Officer opens the back door and slips in beside you, holding a tablet and stylus. “Y/n. Twenty five. Female. Submitted a ‘free use jail fantasy’. That is you, is it not?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

You stare at the man, but remain silent. Isn’t that one of your rights?

Changbin sighs. “This is your contract. I need you to understand the terms of our engagement.”

He holds the tablet in front of you so you can read exactly what you signed yourself up for. 

I, y/n, agree to being held prisoner in a police station setting, where eight men have the right to use my body how they see fit. This includes: degradation, humiliation, spanking, oral sex, vaginal penetration, anal penetration (includes use of fingers), double penetration, rough sex, use of props and restraints. 

Please read below for further details.

You scroll through the rest of the pages. Details of the acts that may take place, photos of the men and their role, special interests and skills. They are fucking handsome as hell too.

What the fuck have you signed up for? It sounded good in your head. It sounded good when you applied. But now it’s real.. You gulp and look at the Officer. 

“Sign here.” He points to the space at the bottom of page 12.

“Umm…”  you nudge your head towards your restraints.

“Oh yes of course.” Changbin releases your cuffs, opting to secure them in front of you instead. You take the stylus and sign on the dotted line.

You only live once right?

“Great. So as of now you belong to us. Well, for the next 24 hours.” He says matter of fact.

You suck on your lower lip. “So, like right now you could get me to do…things?” You say in a small voice.

“Yes, that’s right. I could instruct you to do things. Or, I could just do things to you. Free use, remember?” He takes the tablet from you and places it next to him in the seat. Your eyes fall on his thick bicep and you feel an ache between your legs. He sits back, slouching against the backseat, and his eyes drop to your bare leg.

A heavy silence fills the car. 

Changbin reaches out to squeeze your thigh, just above your knee and you hold your breath as his hand slowly slides up under your skirt.

“Show me your panties.” He whispers, lifting your skirt up. You open your legs for him. 

His plush, pink lips part slightly.  “Take them off.” He instructs.

You shimmy your panties off and wait for your next instructions. 

“Unbuckle my belt.”

The chain of the handcuffs rattling, and his heavy breaths are the only sounds as you bring your hands to his belt. “Uunzip my pants and take out my cock.”

Your heart begins to race, and your mouth becomes dry, as anticipation and fear bubble in your stomach. Your fingers shake as you unzip his fly and pull his length through the opening of his boxers. Fuck, he is so thick. Your eyes flick up to his.

“Suck it.” He says, staring at you.

You take a deep breath and bring your mouth closer to the fat tip, wondering you you’d even be able to stretch your mouth around it. You kiss the slit. Changbin hisses. “Don’t tease.” He says with a gravely tone. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip, then along the shaft, moistening it up. But Changbin is impatient, and he presses his hand on the back of your head, indicating that he’s had enough of your chaste ministrations.

You stretch your mouth around his girth and sink your head down over him. God, he’s not going to fit. You’re going to choke. 

“C’mon, deeper.” He pushes your head, coaxing you to take more of him. Your eyes immediately water, but you do your very best to suck him enthusiastically.

You feel his hand slide down your back and over your ass. You whimper when he lifts your skirt up and he spanks you on the ass. “Deeper.” He moans. 

You lift off and take a big breath before taking him back in your mouth, forcing yourself to take even more of him. His fingers finds your pussy, sliding them  through your wet folds. He gathers some of your arousal and brings the pad of his finger to your asshole. 

“Hmm… you feel like you’re gonna be so tight. The boys are going to have fun stretching out this little thing. You won’t be able to sit for a week.” He chuckles. 

You moan at the thought, excited to be used.

Changbin’s finger breaches the tight ring of muscle as he presses inside. It’s just to the first knuckle but it’s making you hungry for more.

“That’s enough for now.” He decides, withdrawing his finger and pulling your mouth off his cock. You sit up whining at the loss. “Are we going to go to the police station now?” You inquire.

Changbin scoffs. “Greedy little thing. Can’t wait for what’s in store for you.” He strokes your tear stained cheek. “We’ll go soon. But not until you ride me. Climb on.” He nods towards his cock. “I want first feel of your pussy.”

You straddle Officer Changbin, wrapping your still cuffed hands around his neck, and he holds his cock steady for you as you lower yourself down on him. “Fuck!” You squeak as you feel the tip against your entrance. “You’re so big Officer. I’m not sure I can take you.” 

You swallow, looking into his eyes. There’s lust there. You can see it. He looks like he could hurt you, but there’s a kindness in his expression too, and you wonder if the other men will be like him?

“If you can’t take my cock, how are you gonna take two at once?” He whispers. “Sit on it. I want to feel your walls wrapped around my dick.”

“What if I say no? What happens?” You challenge him.”

“‘No’s not your safe word.” He grips your hips and slowly lowers you down onto his length. “Just keep your eyes on me, sweet thing. Shhh. I know Binnie’s thick.”

You shake your head. “It’s too big.” 

“It’s gonna feel good. I promise. Let me stretch your tight little walls.” He breathes against your cheek.

You feel yourself stretching for him, slowly relaxing to accommodate his size. Inch by inch you feel him fill you. 

“You are tight aren’t you? Fuck, like a vice.” He closes his eyes and tries to steady his breath.

You push yourself down all the way and pause. 

Changbin opens his eyes again and lifts your skirt so he can see where you’re impaled on him.

“See. Look at that.” He says in awe. Your eyes follow his as you lift up slightly and lower yourself again, watching him disappear inside you. 

“Bounce on me. Show me what a good little girl you are, and I’ll put in a good word in my report.”

He digs his hands into your ass cheeks, spreading them and using his grip on them to bounce you.

“I need you to scream for me. No one’s gonna hear you, but I want you to scream your lungs out anyway.”

He grips you tighter, and as though you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and slams you down. You cry out. “Again!” He growls as he slides you up his cock, and drops you back down. “Scream.”

You cry out, screaming loudly.

“Hurts doesn’t it, bunny?” He uses his hips to fuck up into you ferociously.

“N-no…feels goo-”

“Say it hurts. Scream like it hurts.” He growls and throws  you off him and pushes your face into the car seat. He lifts your hips to meet his cock and thrusts into you forcefully. Every thrust is deep and hard. Your pussy feels stretched to its limits. 

He’s relentless, pounding into you harder and harder. The sound of your bodies colliding filling the car. The windows are steamed up, and you're certain the car is rocking wildly.

“Stop… please… too hard…it hurts…” you scream. But you don’t use your safe word. It actually feels incredible.

“Is Binnie too much, hmm? Poor little cunt struggling to fit me?” He mocks you.

You scream louder. He picks up the pace. 

“Fuck…I’m coming!!!” You let out the loudest scream your lungs can muster, as you clench your walls around Changbin’s cock.

“That’s it, so nice and loud for me.”  He helps you ride out your orgasm and then withdraws from your still quivering cunt.

“Good, compliant little bunny. Come, drink up.” He strokes your hair as he helps you turn around so you can wrap your lips around his cock again. He pumps the length a few times until you feel his hot, thick cum coat your tongue. 

“Open. Show me.” The tilts your chin as you present to him your mouth full of semen. “Swallow it up for me.”

You keep your eyes locked on him as you swallow the thick, salty substance, and then open back up to show him.

“Good girl. We need to get you into your cell.” He smirks and gets back into the front of the car.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

It’s almost dark when you get to the police station and you’re feeling incredibly nervous about what lies ahead. 

Changbin helps you get out of the vehicle, leaving your panties on the floor, and escorts you up the front steps of the building. It actually looks like a real police station too, and you wonder how on earth they managed to have access to this place.

The seven other men are waiting for you. They eagerly stand up from their desks as Changbin walks you past until you reach the cell at the far end of the room.

“In.” He grunts, removing your handcuffs and pushing you inside and slamming the door closed behind you. You quickly take in your surroundings. There’s absolutely nothing in your cell except a mattress with two folded blankets on top.

“So this is the sweet thing we have to break?” One of the men jeers. 

“This will be fun.” Another adds.

You turn back towards the men, who are all lined up on the other side of the bars. They watch you. So many eyes. On you. Some look mean. Others look kind. You recognise each of them from the photos, and you know from your research you need to watch out for the ones named Seungmin and Minho. 

“Y/n. Come meet the officers.” The Chef, Chan you believe his name is, says firmly.

You take a step forward.

“No.” He stops you. “First, strip.” 

“Oh!” You squeak. You hesitate. Are you really ready for this? But there’s something thrilling about this situation, and you know, deep down, even though you’re nervous, scared even, you don’t want to stop. Your hands tremble as they grasp the hem of your top and you pull it over your head. Leaving your top half In merely a flimsy sheer bra.

“Fuck. She’s hot.” One of them men whistle under his breath.

“The skirt too..” Chan barks.

“B-but-“ you remember you’re not wearing underwear.

“Skirt. Off. I don’t like repeating myself.” Chan snaps.

You lower your eyes as you peel your skirt down and let drop it to the floor.

“No panties. What a slut.” Minho smirks.

You can feel all eyes on your bare pussy. 

“Look at the officers before you y/n.”

You lift your head and look at the men.  

“For the next twenty four hours these men own your body. They want your cunt? You let them have it. They want to fuck your ass? It’s theirs. They want to take you two at a time? Tie you up, use restraints? You do not resist. They feel they need to punish you? You take it willingly. They want to degrade you, humiliate you?” 

Seungmin laughs at that.

“They can. If they want to treat you nice, be sweet, they’re allowed to do that too. But you don’t come without permission. They control your orgasms.”

Chan basically recites  your submission request back to you.

“Alright. Come forward to meet the officers who will be taking good care of you over the next twenty four hours.” 

You take a step forward. “On your knees.” Chan corrects you.

You drop to your knees, the floor is cold and hard, and you crawl over to where the men wait.

The one named Minho comes forward and presents his erect cock to you, sliding it through the bars. “Come say hello, kitten.” He says coldly.

You look up at him as you wrap your mouth around him, and he immediately takes hold of the back of your head to keep it still while he fucks your mouth. You hear several belts being unbuckled around you.

So this is the introductions then?

“Changbin and I will leave you to it.” Chan informs the group and he and Changbin leave you with the remaining six officers.

From what you can tell from the way Minho holds your head and watches you with intense eyes, is that the man can read your limits. He pushes in just enough to make you gag, but not quite making you choke. His rhythm is smooth and consistent, and when he cums you know he’s holding back a pretty moan. He’s definitely a dom, but one that really understands a sub.

Felix, the pretty and gentle blond, is careful with your face, he doesn’t push too far, and he lets you use your hand on him. But there’s a glimmer in his eye that tells you he doesn’t mind the kinkier side of things, or that he might like seeing you in pain.

Hyunjin. He doesn’t even have to speak and he’s got you blushing. Just the way he’s looking at you, his tongue licking his pretty lips, has you dripping down your legs. The man is beautiful, sensual, and  the way he’s working with you as you work his cock, moving with your mouth and hand, makes you believe he finds sex to be about connection. You’re not entirely sure how that will play out.

Jeongin. Seems sweet and innocent, but his entire expression changes to demonic once his tip hits your throat. You’re not sure what he has in store for you, but you know it’s not going to sweet, and you find yourself imagining all sorts of scenarios with him.

Jisung is next. Confident, demanding with his cock. Mumbles “slut” a few times, and thrusts his hips erratically. He’s unpredictable, and you splutter when he pushes far too deep for you. A flicker of fear and concern crosses his features, and you get the urge to help him stay in the character he’s trying to portray. You moan enthusiastically, and he quickly recovers, fucking you without restraint.

Seungmin is last. He’s cruel with his words, and careless with his thrusts. He’s energy is cold, and you know that if you need to be punished, he’s the guy to give it to you. That is until he comes back with an oversized shirt and a tray of food, and asks you if you have any questions about the agreement.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

You sit alone in your cell and eat your dinner, wondering what the night will hold. You don’t have to wait long though, because Chan is walking towards your cell. 

“Y/n. It’s time for your interrogation with Detective Minho and Officer Seungmin.”

Fuck.

↣↣ up next, interrogation time with 2min here

↳ tag list : open

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[natlovesls2]

Romeo and Juliet

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: no use of y/n, set some time in the 19th century, angsty fluff or fluffy angst?, shit post/ rushed, let me know if i missed anything, Part 1 of 2, not proofread

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.2k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Oscar love each other despite not being allowed to even interact with one another. Or just a forbidden romance trope fanfic.

part two

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

You stood at the edge of the ballroom looking out at the dance pairs twirling around the dance floor, glancing down at your nearly empty dance card– your father's presence no doubt contributing to that lack of young men approaching you. 

“Would you happen to have any space left in your dance card? Perhaps you could pencil me in,” a voice said, from beside you, snapping you out of your entranced state. 

You couldn’t even begin to formulate a thought before your father intervened, “She cannot,” he replied for you, his voice full of contempt for the young man who stood in front of you. 

The young man frowned slightly, quickly regaining control over himself and smiling again, “What a shame,” he said, giving you and your father a curt nod before walking off. 

You turned to your father, your exasperation and frustration clearly present in your expression. How could he turn away such a fine-looking gentleman when you had only danced with two men? All he did was shake his head at you disapprovingly, turning to speak to your mother. You would find a way to dance with that gentleman one way or another. 

Your opportunity to slip away from your father's attentive, hawk-like supervision came when an old friend of his had him engaged in conversation. Your mother gave you a slight nod, signaling that it was the perfect opportunity to proceed with your plan— you did just that, wasting no time to escape your tyrant of a father. 

“You’re a bit of a rebel, aren’t you?” Said a slightly familiar voice as you scanned the ballroom for the gentleman who had asked you to dance, causing you to startle. 

“It’s you.”

“You were looking for me?” He asked slightly amused. 

“Yes, I wanted to dance— only if you would still like to,” you nervously stumbled over your words. 

“Of course, it would be an honor to dance with such a beautiful lady,” he extended his hand to you, taking your gloved hand in his own, leading you towards the dance floor. 

“What's your name?”

“Oscar, and what might your name be?” 

You danced for what seemed like an eternity, song after song after song. No doubt turning heads at such an inappropriate scene, though you couldn’t have cared less. 

“Will I see you again?” you asked as you finally parted ways. 

“If you will allow me the pleasure.” Of course, you would let him see you again, as many times as he wanted. You had, so many times, scoffed at the idea of love at first sight but you finally understood. It was as if the stars had aligned and brought Oscar to you. 

The content sigh you let was short-lived as your father approached you with a stern look. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out as he pulled away towards the exit of the ballroom, your mother trailing behind.

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

You continued to meet in secret, your lady's maid guarding your secret love with her life– it was nice knowing that at least someone was on your side. She often snuck in and out the letters you both wrote to each other. 

Your father clenched the letter he had intercepted, glaring at you, his anger rising as you reached out for the letter. 

“You cannot do this— tell him he can’t, mother… it’s unfair,” you desperately watched as he tore the letter into pieces.

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do! I am your father, I know what is best for you!”

“Perhaps you’re overreacting, dear,” your mother attempted to calm your father. 

“She deserves better than him, better than a man of such… a dishonorable family” your father scolded both you and your mother, continuing to voice his disdain for Oscar and his family. 

“I deserve what I very damn please!” You say, challenging your fathers words, to his face, for the first time in your life. 

“Who do you think you’re speaking to with that tone, young lady? Mm? Have you lost your mind?” 

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

The cold night air bit at your skin as you stalked through the empty streets in search of your lover. 

“I knew you’d make it” he said as he saw your figure approach the alley in which he was hidden. 

“I almost didn’t. My father knows, he intercepted the latest letter you sent.”

“It was purposeful.”

“Purposeful?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion, squinting your eyes at Oscar to catch a glimpse of him with the dim light of the moon. 

“I need him to know about us” he began to explain, his hands reaching out to grasp your own.

“Why?”

“I love you,” he began again, “You are the stars of my night sky. The center of my universe. My beginning and end. You are all that has been and will ever be. Without you… I cease to be, love. Don’t you get it?” 

“My father will never let us be,” you tried to reason, knowing it would be of no use. There was no changing his mind; he was set on loving you. 

“We could run away. Forget about your father– forget about who they want us to be. It could just be us. Just the two of us, happy and in love forever.”

“Oscar,” you futilely attempted to interrupt him.

"Can’t you see that I am a fool– blinded by the most dangerous weapon we as humans have ever created, love," he whispered into your hands, placing small kisses on them, “Please, tell me you love me. Tell me you feel the same as I do— that you feel that undeniable urge to destroy everything we’ve ever known to have the privilege of loving each other.”

“You cannot say such words, Oscar. You know the implication, it’s not as easy as we want to make it seem,” you whispered, attempting to pull your hands from his to no avail.

“I know, you’re right, but you have irrevocably marked my being with your presence– and I find that I cannot live without you. You have bewitched me: mind, body, and soul. You, my beloved, hold my heart in the palm of your hand. I feel as though I am suffocating without you. You are the very air that brings life to me," Oscar said, pulling you closer, searching your eyes for any sign that you loved him just as much as he loved you. 

“I– we… cannot be. You know this–”

“No, I will not take that as an answer,” his grip on your hands tightened, eyes blown out wide and wildly scanning over your face with a hint of betrayal. He was sure that you would immediately reciprocate his all-consuming love, but you had failed to confess as he had done, “I love you–”

“As do I,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his own. 

“Then let's go, tomorrow night.”

“Alright.”

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

“Can you believe it, Mary– He loves me and tomorrow night we shall finally be together,” You sighed longingly as you spoke to your lady's maid of your night with Oscar. 

“You’re so lucky to have each other” she helped you into your nightgown before slipping out of your room. 

She made her way towards your fathers study, knocking softly, waiting for permission to enter before slipping into the room. “Sir, I have some news that you might find interesting.”

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Note: I was going to write more but my classes have been kicking my ass. I'll probably make a second part. I just wanted to post something since I haven't posted in so long.

[pearwaldorf]

Many novelists have had the experience of being approached by someone convinced that they have a great idea for a novel, which they are willing to share in exchange for a fifty-fifty split of the proceeds. Such a person inadvertently reveals that they think formulating sentences is a nuisance rather than a fundamental part of storytelling in prose. Generative A.I. appeals to people who think they can express themselves in a medium without actually working in that medium. But the creators of traditional novels, paintings, and films are drawn to those art forms because they see the unique expressive potential that each medium affords. It is their eagerness to take full advantage of those potentialities that makes their work satisfying, whether as entertainment or as art.

Ted Chiang, Why A.I. Isn't Going to Make Art

[mysunshinetemptress]

Warnings: 18+ Alludes to SMUT MDNI

Read part one here

“And then she proceeded to tell me she had to look the part to play the part, Cariño are you listening to me.”

“I am Vennen, my head hurts so I’m just taking my hair down”

“ Vale, she then told me she was…are you sure your ok why are you taking off your jacket.”

*Ingrid doesn’t listen as she continues to take her clothes off one by one

“En…what…what are you doing.”

“Keep telling me about what María did min kjærlighet.”

“Eh…I…she..I”

*Ingrid proceeds to take off the remainder of her clothes

“I can’t…amor what is…I.”

*Ingrid laughs

“You never can seem to concentrate when I’m naked.”

*you continue to blabber trying to formulate words

“So do you want to keep talking about María or do you want to fuck me.”

“I…eh…what if she comes in.”

“Then let her watch, it can be her punishment for being so annoying to you earlier on.”

*Ingrid laughs at your shocked face

“Well.”

*You begin to take off every bit of clothing you have on you

“Dios mío, no tienes que preguntarme dos veces

[hpgal]

DC X DP Ghost Dog

CW: Blood, Violence

TLDR: Jason is fighting a losing battle against a new opponent he is having trouble hitting. This leads to him being chased and running into Danny whose chilling in an alley.

Word Count: 1326

a/n: Might write more where more Batfam encounter Danny and Danny's perspective, may even rewriting the ending of this. I got the idea from a prompt someone posted here on Tumblr and I forgot to save it but I'd love to tag them if anyone can help me find them! The prompt was something along the lines of Danny will randomly appear in alleys with items that the person needs exactly to solve a problem they were having.

Jason emptied his clip a long while ago and was now being chased through Crime Alley by some sort of dog. It was big. If was angry and it was... green?

The bullets did nothing to it but aggravated the thing and so it chased him. His comms weren't working to call for backup and he was getting tired. It's been 15 minutes of running and that was before you add on he was trying to fight the thing prior and he was now injured after taking a hit meant for a civilian.

He jumped off the rooftop, stumbling. Instead of catching the opposite ledge he plummeted to the ground. A dumpster broke his fall. But damn did it hurt, especially with a prexisting slash of claws on his side. He was still human after all. He had some time but he did not want to waste a single second before it could catch back up to him. So, begrudgingly and in pain, Jason pushed himself back up and out the dumpster.

"Great I'm going to smell like rotten fish for a week" he muttered to no one in particular as he brushed garbage off him.

Before he could formulate a game plan, his thought process froze. He looked up in confusion and blinked. Then blinked again as he stared at what he saw.

A kid with black hair and looked incredibly scrawny sat on a stoll behind a table with a sign "Clockworks Goods and Services!" The kid seemed unbothered with headphones on and eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall of the alley.

Hell the kid almost looked like Damian. If he has blue eyes he'd be a perfect candidate for a Bruce adoption. But why was a kid here.. selling his services?

Jason takes a moment to listen out and notice it is oddly quiet which meant the green dog must not be close yet so he takes advantage of the situation to figure out what the hell is going on here. He takes a step forward and looks at the contents on the table. It was empty except for a single bell with faded writing saying "ring me!" And so he did.

The kid opens his eyes with a start. They were piercing blue. Oh Bruce would fall for this kid instantly, he thinks to himself.

"Oh evening!" The kid starts as he stands up stretching as he removes his headphones from his head. "It looks like you're in need of my services. What is your problem today?"

The kid was so nonchalant as he spoke and moved around. The kid glanced at the table and furrowed his brow. "My names Danny by the way" he quickly adds on.

Jason stares at Danny through his mask perplexed. Something about this didn't sit right with him. It was late at night and Danny was hanging out in an alleyway selling services yet he looked not a day over 15.

But something drives him to answer Danny's question and answer it truthfully, "I'm fighting something and none of my attacks are working on it but it's causing destruction and hurting the people of Crime Alley. It even managed to injure me"

As soon as he says it, he wants to smack himself. Why would he need to tell the kid that? He shoyld be telling him to grt out of here, that it isn't safe.

Danny however shrugs like this was normal for him and looks down at the table again. The plastic folding tables surface remained empty except for the bell but Danny seems confused at this.

"Huh usually it appears when you say it." Danny mutters and proceeds to look under the table then behind him.

Jason however is further confused and raises a hand to his helmet to try his comms again. Unsurprisingly he hears only static. What he does hear instead of his families voices, is the barking of a dog in the distance and something crashing.

Aw shit.

Jason looks up then towards the entrance of the alley with a sigh, "Look, kid, I'm going to circle back to you and your... weirdness later, for now, you need to find somewhere safe while I deal with an abnormally large and green dog."

This seems to catch Danny's attention as he jerks back upright and looks at me. He stares, and I see the wheels in his head turn. He sighs, and his shoulders slump inwards.

"I get it now. I'm the service you need" Danny rolls his shoulders back and steps out from behind the table, heading to the entrance of the alley.

"Woah kid stay back! It's dangerous!" Jason calls out behind him as he jogs to catch up, only slightly twitching in pain as he moves. The kid was incredibly fast for someone who looked malnourished.

As soon as Jason reaches the street, he turns to see where the kid had gone. His eyes widened at the sight of Danny walking like it was just another day towards the rampaging dog.

Danny stops just out of reach of the green dog and whistles two quick notes. The dog pauses and looks towards Danny, its fast twisting from one of anger to excitement as evident with its tail wagging.

“Cujo!” Danny yells, “Bad dog! Drop the car!” the dog whines and drops the car it had in its mouth with a loud thud.

The dog, Jason now knows as Cujo, gets low to the ground and its ears press against its head like any dogs would when they are embarrassed or know they’ve been caught doing something they weren’t supposed too.

“Come here boy! It’s time to take you home!” Danny calls out to it, producing a glowing green dog treat from his pockets.

Jason just watches the entire encounter unfold, gobsmacked. He doesn’t know what to think of it. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was that simple. Who is this kid? As Jason continues to watch his jaw drops to the floor at what happens next.

The dog starts shrinking until it is ithe size of a puppy and comes bounding up to Danny with little playful barks. Danny scoops Cujo up with a sigh and scratches Cujos head right behind his ears.

Danny turns to look towards me, the street where Cujo came from a mess. He gives a sheepish smile and wave, “Sorry about that! I didn’t think Cujo followed me today! I’ll speak to my dog sitter about watching him more carefully next time!”

Danny turns back towards the chaos Cujo created on the street and glances at his watch. “Well, it’s time for me to clock out. I’ll send someone to clean up the mess! Sorry again!” Danny pauses for a moment as he glances once more at Jason, squinting.

A green glowing portal opens up behind Danny and he looks between Jason and the portal. He sets Cujo down and directs him to go through the portal. Danny jogs over to Jason, digging through his pockets.

“Oh sorry you’re hurt and sick. Probably my fault honestly. Here.” Danny shoves something into Jason's hands before he can protest, dumbfounded by what just happened, “That should get rid of the tainted Lazarus Waters in your soul and let your injury heal up like normal. Sorry again!”

Jason just stares before finally getting his bearings again, “Who the hell are you?!”

Danny just laughs, “I’m just your friendly neighborhood ghost.” and with that Danny leaves through the portal, it closing behind him leaving destruction and a baffled Jason in the street.

Like Danny promised, not even a few minutes later, another portal opened up in the streets of Crime Alley, spilling out dozens of glowing green people, who Jason started to believe were really ghosts. The ghosts got to work and by morning, it was like nothing happened.

At the next family dinner, no one believed Jason of what happened that night.

-----

a/n: I feel like we don't see Cujo enough in fics. I mean come on, a ghost dog? How cool is that?!?! I love Cujo <3 And we all know how much Cujo loves Danny!

[sublimetragedychopshop]

Player yandere!!

Player! Yan being a hoe all throughout their life. Their amazing good looks and trust fund money makes people not think twice before jumping into bed with them. Thinking they are special because “oh my god this is how our love story starts! Their in love with me!🥰” only for them to either be shoved a plan b in their hands the next morning, shoved out of their flat and blocked on all social media. If that person even tries to confront yan the next day, yan just goes “do I know you?” With the straightest face ever. Like they are an ASSHOLE when it comes to people who are in love with them. They have never been in love before and everytime someone gets upset at them or curses them, they just shrug it off as another Tuesday. “Fuck you!!when you fall in love, I hope they stomp on your heart and light it on fire!” Another wounded soul that was the victim of their shenanigans exclaimed.

They just laugh and move on with their day. Them? In love?? Not gonna happen sweetheart. People fall in love with THEM not the other way around.

Until they meet their darling. Of course theirs always that “special someone” usually displayed as the innocent pure person. But that isn’t how my stories go. Idgaf darling that is just trying to scrape by in life. They know, that yan is an entitled asshole and proceed to stay away from them. Shouldn’t have been hard right? Wrong. They made the mistake of telling yan to “get lost” when yan tried to talk up their friend. Of course some hostility towards them is kind of common but usually from their ex playthings. They play innocent wondering if you were a past lay, while trying to chummy up to you.

At first it was a joke, them seeking you out just to play innocent infront of you. Flirting as a joke, just to rile you up or make you blush (too bad you just look at them with a dead inside look) in fact they started considering you their newest exciting game. See how long until you fall.

Unexpectedly you stood strong, any advance they tried to make, you blocked it, any sweet moment they calculated, you dodged it, any ‘special’ connection they tried to formulate just pushed you away even further. It was driving them crazy, but their selfish pride never let them walk away. And despite everything you never cussed them out, chased them out or showed anger to them. It almost made them think of you as some sociopath.

After some time they started thinking about you. All.the.time. Scenarios on how to make you blush. Daydreams of how you would look when you crumbled under them. Strategies to take up more of your time. Until they began dreaming of you. Fun thing about dreams they usually mean underlying feelings in a person. Sweet dreams of you, usually you smiling at them or being happy. They feel so light in the dreams, so fuzzy. Craving them when their gone or you giving them your usual dead look. They don’t take it seriously at first, of course they began dreaming about you, they almost see you everyday! Then the nerves started showing up, hesitation. Whenever they tried to make a sly move before, they did so confidently. Now they do it, and you look at them with those uninterested eyes, and suddenly they have to look away. A small pink hue flooding their face.

Is it normal to hate people that come close to you? Before others looked at THEM with jealousy. Now they glare at anyone that is buddy buddy with you. These low life’s seeing you smile and laugh. While THEY barely get a glance. It’s unbelievable. No they aren’t jealous! They probably have a good reason for this feeling!

God, their friends see them acting weird and confront them about it. “Dude are you okay? I get that this person is like your ‘conquest’ or whatever but your taking this too seriously.” “So what? I’m not a quitter. Or do you think that they are capable of resisting me!?” They exclaim. “Nah! I just mean-don’t take them so seriously! How about we go to a party with a bunch of hot chicks/dudes. They won’t know.” It made them think. At first a bitter taste of disgust hit them until they buried it. ‘Yeah, tons of better broads are willing to open their legs after just a glance. I just need to get back in the game.’ So they go, a random party full of drunk people. It’s where they feel most comfortable. But something doesn’t feel right? It’s almost like they are waiting, waiting for something. Someone. They can’t help but turn around when a voice similar to yours starts talking. Can’t help but look around when a jacket that looks like yours is found. They do it on accident until someone points it out, and they get mad. Enraged.

It seemed to be a tipping point because they have never got that drunk before. Pulling someone they don’t even know into a room with them. Kissing, groping until the start the deed. At first it feels good, so good. They feel like they got high for the first time again. Until this random stranger starts sounding like you. Their drunk mind filling the gaps. Suddenly the stranger doesn’t just sound like you, it looks like you. They moan and groan and god does it sound so good. They couldn’t help themselves, stupidly they moaned your name. The other person seemed to not hear it the first couple of times, until yan starts screaming it as they cum. Suddenly they get smacked in the face and get left by themselves on the bed.

It was a wake up call, a moment of realization. Hours passed by in a flash because of their drunk mind. Only thing they could think about now was you. They were in love. IN. LOVE. With you, of all people. Thinking that they could NEVER experience this sensation, it was a gut punch. Small chuckles left their lips, soon it turned into an explosive laughter! As they clutched their heart, beating- demanding to leave their chest and run to you, they knew that you owned them now. Belonging to you and only you. Just needing to let you understand that is all that is left…

(Hope my writing is getting better! This was an old draft that I just decided I NEEDED to post. Mainly cuz I’m still working on a part 2 on my self deprecating yandere Drabble! Sorry my brain is out of juice is all 😭)

[rwrbficrecs]

i’d take the bomb in your head and disarm it by @henrysfox (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry are students at NYU who randomly become dorm roommates. After a few short weeks of mutual dislike their friendship starts to grow - and could it actually be more ...?! At the end of the story, I was baffled that the two of them could be so completely clueless the whole time?! Then again, who am I to judge when someone settles for half-baked assumptions instead of just mustering up the courage and trying to have an honest conversation?! 😇 The story is so gentle, so angsty and Alex is just so vulnerable and soft - just beautiful and moving!

you are my mountain (you are my sea) by @alasse9 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Five moments between Alex and Henry, starting with the visit to Alex's childhood home in Texas after Ellen's election victory, a vulnerable moment in the Brownstone, a vacation in Mexico City... This story isn't even close to 10,000 words, but it's so unbelievably powerful - I am still blown away! The author manages to hit on so many interpersonal aspects and delicate vibrations, to formulate soft, tender feelings and thoughts and describes Alex and Henry both so damn considerate and soulful - the author nailed it (imho), it's almost impossible to grasp!

Shatter Me by @historicallysam (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry and Alex are still Prince and First Son, some is canon, a lot slightly modified, but: Alex is out, Henry is not. He isn't even sure if he's gay or if he ever wants to acknowledge it - until he meets Alex and falls head over heels. The catch, on top of the homophobic Queen: Henry is engaged, his fiancée lovely, amazing even, and the wedding date is about to be set. How the author weaves together the familiar events and plotlines and their own ideas is brilliant! Not gonna lie: It was (to me) oppressive at times, really angsty - but also highly gripping!

The Consequences (of our Actions) (series) by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@celeritas2997: Alex is just a Regular Guy who just happened to put Prince Henry on his 'No Consequences Sex List' and proceeds to tell him about this when they meet. Lots of sex (like, ridiculously hot sex) and feelings (SO MANY FEELINGS) ensue. I am convinced that Anchor is magic and will continue shouting about this series from the rooftops until the end of days; it is clever, sexy, funny, beautifully written and so, so, so heartfelt. ❤️

@heybuddy-drabbles: I started this when it first started and thought it was just some fun little pwp canon divergence. When I picked it up again, it was a hell of a series. I loved every last bit of it. It goes way into the whole "If cake gate didn't happen, Alex would have made himself a problem for Henry anyway" and he does in the most glorious way. I can't talk enough about HENRY in this though. It's mostly on Alex POV except the extra chapter but I'm OBSESSED WITH HENRY. How he's older. How he does things for himself like running the shelters with Pez even before he meets Alex. Anyway I could talk about Henry in this series for days but that's not why we are here for. Just, do yourself a favor and just read this.

5 Times Henry Hated New Year's + 1 Time He Didn't by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is such an emotional rollercoaster, but it's worth every gut-wrenching twist! It delves into each of the six parts so well that you feel like you're experiencing each of Henry's life experiences with him.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you by @gayrootvegetable (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the cutest combination of a high school AU and soulmate AU! This fic is short but so very sweet!

if you have a garden and a library... by @glasshouses-and-stones (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is so cute! It's not technically a Cinderella AU, but it has those vibes, and the author does a great job with the setting. Another fic that's short but so sweet!

It takes a lot to know a man by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@inexplicablymine: when I tell you to mind the trigger warnings that is true, but I can also say my GOD is this fic fantastic the writing is superb and the pacing is right on and the plot is so intricately woven I am elated to recommend it everywhere I can. Talk about an in depth suspense thriller mixed with that sex club dom/sub trope mixed with a law case ~ truly there are no words to describe how much this work gripped me as I read through it

@dot524: The subject matter is heavy at times and so are the smut scenes, but also I was fascinated with the story. I didn’t expect it to end up in the intense culminating scene that it did.

Something borrowed, Something blue by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: Yes, I know I recommended this during our Wip Wednesdays but now I'm going to recommend it here for the peeps who only read complete works. Read this. I beg of you. It's so excellent. Henry's relationship with June is something so special to me in this. June and her little family, her daughter means the world to me as well. Alex and his complicated feelings for Henry, their "enemies" to lovers road is just. God I loved it so much. Henry. HENRY IN THIS. Just. Please read this.

hold on (get ready for the ride) by wilmonflicker (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a professional soccer/football AU that I binged and completely fell in love with. Alex transfers to the team where Henry is the star player, and they get together. it's beautifully written, smutty at times and perfect for sport lovers and non-sport lovers alike

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[lovings4turn]

☆ strange twist of fate . . . (o.p)

— a simple video shoot for mclaren leads to a lot of previously unexplored feelings about your teammate (2.3k)

+ fully inspired by mclaren’s summer games video, it is my fav thing ever at the moment. nothing stirs up some tension like a game of twister, right?

+ contains very subtle suggestive references. like. one or two sexual jokes. likely not very accurate oscar but, oh well. banner and divider from cafekitsune

the blinking red light of the camera in front of you indicates you’ve started rolling, and second nature (also known as years of media training) causes you to perk up a little as oscar begins to speak. even from his mannerisms, you can tell that he’s gotten far more confident being in front of the camera with you, the two of you building up a comfortable dynamic that you could stick to pretty well.

“alright.” oscar claps his hands together, shifting his weight back onto his right foot. the movement positions him just a little closer to you, his arm brushing against yours briefly. the hairs on your arms stand up in its wake, and oscar runs through the introduction of the video the media team has asked him to deliver.

“so, we’ve got some garden games,” he explains, voice dripping with faux enthusiasm as he turns to you with a coy smile.

the look generates a similar grin from you, something that usually happens when you’re in close proximity to oscar. not wanting to overthink it, you chalk it down to simple nerves. after all, you’ve only been teammates with oscar for six months. despite growing closer to him, it’s no surprise that your body continues to opt for bashful smiles over formulating a proper response.

surely everyone forgets how to speak to their coworker sometimes?

seemingly unaware of your internal monologue, oscar proceeds with his own conversation to the camera, eyes scanning the room and surveying the three games that have been set up for the two of you to play.

“we’ve got twister,” he notes, his accent thick as it wraps around the letters of the word. you ignore the way your brain plays the sound over again, an echo only you can hear. “and some limbo later, then jenga to finish it all off.”

if you weren’t too busy staring at the large, inflatable limbo bar in the corner, you would notice oscar’s eyebrows briefly jump at the sight of the twister mat. the dial sitting next to it on the floor reminds him of just what the game entails, and he swallows thickly.

deciding you should probably make an effort to speak at some point, you fake frustration and cross your arms over your chest.

“i’m pretty sure oscar’s beaten me in every other video we’ve done this year,” you begin, but you’re cut off.

“no, you won the uh- the lie detector thingy,” oscar points out.

it’s true. though you had somehow managed to get through the lie detector challenge receiving only one shock, oscar had absolutely crushed you at the ‘yes/no’ challenge, and managed to beat you in ‘hide and seek’ by somehow procuring the most effective hiding spot in the entire paddock. you don’t even want to remember just how badly you had done answering questions from the british driving theory test. 

keeping up the act, you roll your eyes and dismiss him with a wave of your arm. “okay, like, 7-1 then.”

at the sound of oscar’s high pitched chuckle, your face immediately cracks into a grin. it’s as though oscar’s laugh is programmed to make you smile no matter the circumstances, carrying some secret code that rearranges the chemicals in your brain — totally platonically, of course. you tell yourself that he’s just one of those people with infectious laughs, destined to make others join in their delight. 

“brilliant!” the director objects, a grin plastered onto her face as the camera cuts, signalling the end of filming for this segment. “that was perfect guys, thanks. if you wanna get ready for the first game for us.”

taking a deep breath, you nod and stride over to your first activity: twister.

similar to the motions you see oscar go through before every race, you make a show of stretching out your arms and neck with exaggerated groans, even shaking out your legs and performing a few deep lunges for good measure.

“just warming myself up,” you joke. “good thing i’m pretty flexible.”

“yeah? i’ll put that to the test, then,” oscar quips, clearly not realising that what he said could be taken in an entirely different way, a way that certainly doesn’t come to your mind the moment the words leave his mouth.

distracting yourself from his accidental innuendo, you move to one corner of the mat and watch oscar spin the dial for you, the pointer whirring around before landing on left hand red. you crouch down immediately and plant your hand onto one of the red dots, tilting your head to look up at oscar. it seems he was already looking, though, a small smile across his face as he rests his hands on his hips.

“your turn, oscar. you’re starting from the other side though,” you laugh, pointing over to the opposite side of the mat to you. “get over there.”

with a mock salute, oscar strides over to the opposing side of the twister mat, eyes locked onto you as he waits for you to spin the dial and administer his fate.

the game progresses as well as you could have imagined, the constant laughter between you two causing your bodies to shake and thus making holding yourself up a lot harder than it should have been. due to the increasingly awkward positions you find yourselves in, a mclaren team member has to step in at one point to spin the dial for you both since you’ve been rendered useless.

at one point, oscar groans softly at his latest instruction which leaves his body uncomfortably contorted. lip between his teeth, he stretches over to place his hand onto the green spot just across from you, granting you with the - undeniably enjoyable - sight of oscar’s toned arm inches away from your face. your eyes trace over the veins that protrude from his arms, splintering like lightning underneath his lightly tanned skin, practically begging your gaze to follow their path. 

having your insanely attractive coworker almost hovering over you as he pants and curses was definitely doing nothing to help you keep your focus on the content you were filming, and you prayed to any and every higher being that no one would be able to notice just how flustered you were becoming. you could see the twitter threads and youtube compilations now – y/n y/l/n being flustered for two minutes straight, y/n swooning over oscar, and whatever else the eagle eyed fans could create.

whoever at mclaren had suggested the two of you play twister was going to fucking pay.

you’re thankful when oscar speaks, dragging you away from whatever train of thought you had found yourself following.

“ah, what a stitch up that is!” oscar complains, letting out a few short breaths as he attempts to shuffle his body into a position that is easier to maintain. 

in return, you scoff, craning your neck to look at him with indignation.

“are you joking? i’m practically doing the fucking splits, oscar!” you object, nodding down towards your legs which are, to your credit - spread across the length of the twister mat in a way that isn’t entirely pleasant.

“guess the flexibility isn’t working out for you then?” oscar quips dryly. over the past few months you’d become accustomed to his more sarcastic, low-key humour, so it’s no surprise when a short laugh escapes your lips despite your current predicament.

a few more rounds pass without a hitch, but you should have known that fate would not be on your side for too long

“left foot yellow,” someone calls, and oscar looks down towards the mat you’re both occupying.

realisation dawns on you both at exactly the same time: the only free yellow spot lands directly between your legs.

“we can’t be on the- on the same sticker, can we?” oscar asks, voice fragmented through his breathy laughter as he tries to manoeuvre his body into a more comfortable position.

despite the way your heart pounds, you’re laughing too, shaking your head in what could be a gesture of amusement or admonishment depending on who you asked. though you should feel a little bad, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of oscar searching for every possible movement he can make, short groans and puffs of breath escaping his lips at the exertion. in an effort to prevent your mind from wandering further at the sound, you focus instead on the budding ache growing in your arms thanks to minutes of holding your body up in an unnatural position.

it’s no use, though. there’s only one spot he can logically move to. 

“oscar, you are not putting your leg there,” you protest, looking up at him with your brows furrowed. your voice becomes almost pleading despite the mirth in your tone. “oscar. oscar, call it quits.”

a flash of contemplation dances behind his eyes as he weighs up just how determined he is to win a trivial game of twister. at his hesitation, your palms grow clammy at the thought of oscar being even closer to you than he is now, and you’re scared that you’ll start to slip off of the mat if your mind doesn’t stop.

“does it have to be that one?” he asks, looking to the team behind the camera for confirmation.

amused, they simply nod, stifling their laughs with tight lipped grins. oscar takes another moment to figure out his next move before he lets out a groan, collapsing onto the twister mat with a breathy laugh. “there, i’m done. we’re done.”

victorious, you relieve your limbs of the strain they are currently feeling and flop down onto the mat yourself, raising your arms up in celebration as you grin widely at the camera.

“that’s one for me!” you shout, looking down to oscar so you can rub your victory in his face.

still on his back, you notice his eyes have fluttered shut and his chest rises and falls quickly as he catches his breath, cheeks flushed from the exertion. if the garish colours of the twister mat were not directly beneath him, you could almost allow yourself to imagine another, less innocent activity was the explanation for his fatigue.

taking a few moments to catch your breath, the two of you sit on the mat in a comfortable silence before oscar forces himself up, offering you a hand and helping you to your feet carefully.

the universe must have taken pity on you, as the rest of the video thankfully progresses with little problem at all. limbo is no contact at all, and being shorter than oscar gives you even more of an advantage, to his chagrin. your downfall is suggesting that your final round - jenga - be ‘winner takes all’. 

lesson learned: never underestimate oscar piastri’s jenga skills. 

overall, the shoot itself lasts maybe half an hour before you’re quickly dismissed by the camera crew, free to do whatever you please for the next few hours before more media duties call your name. it makes sense for you both to walk back through the paddock together, so that’s exactly what you do.

a comfortable silence blankets you both for a minute or so, before oscar speaks. 

“so,” he starts. though there’s an easy smile on his face, you can’t help but note a subtle hint of nerves in his voice. it’s a realisation that scares you a little. 

oscar had never really been nervous to speak to you. a little awkward, when you first met, sure, but his tone had never been laced with anxiety. 

you’ve made him uncomfortable, you worry. he noticed how you were looking at him during the video, noticed you were staring. fuck, fuck, fuck. you’ve ruined it.

“so,” you return, resisting the urge to wring your hands together like a chastised school pupil. “that was uh, an interesting idea, from mclaren. making us play twister.”

oscar nods and wets his lips. he seems to be weighing up his response carefully, and you brace yourself for whatever accusations he’s about to throw your way.

“yeah,” he agrees. “fun, though. think i definitely would have won, if you didn’t make me call it quits,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against yours. the unexpected movement causes you to stumble, and you laugh indignantly before shoving him back.

“what was i supposed to do?” you counter. your fingertips begin to tingle, heart beating a little faster as his words involuntarily bring to mind the memory of his body so close to your own. 

a cheeky grin rises to oscar’s lips, and though he shrugs, his next words are anything but casual.

“i don’t think you would have minded having me in between your legs.”

shock renders your mind blank as you scramble to come up with some sort of response. how are you even supposed to respond to that? deny it? make a joke out of it? brush over it and roll your eyes at him? nothing seems to be an appropriate response.

it seems oscar is enjoying your dumbfounded state, and if you weren’t floundering so much you would kill him for how much he was enjoying your misfortune.

“what do you mean?”

stupid.

like the little shit he is, oscar only shrugs again.

“just an observation,” he hums, coming to a stop outside of his driver’s room. though you think running away from the conversation seems a little juvenile, your hand hovers over the doorknob of your own room.

before he slips through the door frame, he speaks once more, crooked grin forming the words that would send you reeling for the rest of the day. 

“i wouldn’t have minded it, either.”

[mysumeow]

Wanderer/Scaramouche and Albedo (separately)

Warnings: explicit breeding talk in albedo's one, overstim for both but especially on wanderer's section. afab genitals, gn pronouns.

a/n: "ill take a nap" proceeds to in fact not take a nap and write smut drabbles. i dont have.......any type of comment about this x_x

💌 . .SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER

"Mind repeating what you said a few moments ago?"

You gripped the sheets and arched your back, ready to cry again if he was planning to stop and start from the beginning. You lost track of how many times he had worked you close to your orgasm, only to stop just right before you could reach it.

"I—ahh, what?" you tried to buck your hips against him, and he clamped his hands harder on your hip bones, causing pain.

"Do I have to remind you? You truly are the definition of all bark and no bite," he squinted, a silent threat if you moved again without permission. "Something about how I wouldn't be able to last more than two minutes? That I'm small and cute?"

"I didn't mean it in a bad way!"

"I don't care how you meant it. All I care about is showing you how small and cute I can really be," judging by the sadistic glint in his eyes and smile, you knew the underlying meaning.

He's going to make you cry.

More than you already were, at least.

Wanderer's not one to complain when he has to put his darling in place, he enjoys all sides you show him. When you're sweet and obedient, or when you do nothing more than make him clench his jaw and switch up his sadistic streak.

"Don't make me repeat myself again," he said, moving his hand to pinch your sore nipple, which had been suckled raw minutes earlier.

"Ow!" you took a sharp breath, and despite the pain, the pleasured spot between your legs became even more drenched. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please let me cum,"

"And here I thought you would be able to withstand it," he sneered, his grin widening. "You've been good, I'll give you what you desire,"

He also likes to play rough, your entire neck and collarbones littered with love bites, your most erogenous spots exploited until you were left nothing but a trembling mess; it was nothing alike to how he then proceeded to tenderly caress your warm cheek with the back of his hand...

Until he grabbed your wrists and resumed his unrelenting thrusting.

"You're going too hard," you whined, you were about to orgasm. "I want to cum with you,"

He groaned and grazed your bottom lip with his thumb, which he then gently pushed into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue.

"I know you can take it."

💌 . .ALBEDO

There was no room in your body left to accommodate his cum's thick volume; more of it spilled with each determined thrust of his hips, hands pushing your legs as close to your chest as they could.

You couldn't even form a coherent sentence or make any sounds other than heavy breathing and whining.

With a very obscene moan, he separated to take a good look at your disheveled and dazed state, your pretty eyes bright with tears and reddened lips from all his biting and kissing.

"One more, please?" he whined, drool-covered fingers playing with your sensitive clit.

"'Bedo, there's so much already," you cried from oversensitivity as his semen trickled down from your sore pussy.

"Not enough. I have to make sure there's no way you're not knocked up after I'm done with you," he leaned down again to tightly hug your body, and you knew what was about to happen. "This is what you wanted, right? To be thoroughly bred by me?"

You locked your legs around his frame, and, despite the evident ache in your muscles, you nodded.

This time, it was the vulnerable flesh of your neck that was the focus of Albedo's heated kisses and possessive marking. Your body shuddered at the unyielding pace he thrust against you. His drive to breed you was absolute, the way he clasped your torso left no wiggle room for you to not feel everything he expressed to you.

There was no way you could formulate a coherent sentence; you couldn't even say you were about to cum.

"Aah—You're—" he tried to focus, but words left him too as his own orgasm hazed his mind, his frame trembled from the intensity.

Yet, another heavy load delivered right into you.

Albedo was right. There's no way you're not knocked up after this.

[estherax]

Generating plasm and stacking matchboxes: how to build a better future through collective consciousness.

Alternatively - Steban and Ulixes were building Tatlin's Tower so I have to talk about the symbolism or I will explode!!

While completing the communist vision quest you get an opportunity to build a model of "The Tower of History", depicted on the last page of "A Brief Look at Infra-Materialism": a leaning tower wrapped in a dramatic helix. The scale model you make is a mirror image of Tatlin's Tower - a design for a grand monumental building to the Third International: the government organization advocating for world communism.

The main idea of the monument was to produce a new type of structure, uniting a purely creative form with a utilitarian form. Meaning it would function as an office building while also serving as a symbol of cultural significance. And let me tell you, this bad boy can fit so much symbolism in it.

Tatlin was commissioned to develop a design in 1919, after the 1917 February Revolution - a parallel to Disco Elysium's Insulinde we're witnessing post-Antecentennial Revolution.

Tatlin's work was inspired by high revolutionary goals, which are evident in the visual direction of the tower as well, expressing the ideological strive for achieving something that has never been done before, overcoming the odds. The structure "oscillates like a steel snake, constrained and organized by the one general movement of all the parts, to raise itself above the earth. The form wants to overcome the material and the force of gravity..."

The tower has meaning packed even in the materials. For example, the glass structures (marked A, B, C on the architectural rendering) were meant to serve legislative, executive and informative initiatives while rotating around their axes at different speeds. The material signified the purity of initiatives, their liberation from material constraints and their ideal qualities.

But here's the best part. The spirals.

"The spiral is the movement of liberated humanity. The spiral is the ideal expression of liberation: with its base set in the earth, it flees from the ground and becomes a symbol of the suspension of all (...) earthy interests." They are "the most elastic and rapid lines which the world knows" that represent movement and aspiration, continuing the themes of progress and freedom, but they also refer to something else.

In the process of building the matchbox model Rhetoric points out: "It's almost exactly as Nilsen's sketch imagined, a physical manifestation of the dialectical spiral of history."

The shape of the tower is a representation of dialectical development of history, first visualized as a spiral by G. W. F. Hegel. He pictured transformational change as "both linear and circular in order to be short-term responsive, i.e. possibly negating itself, and long-term strategic, i.e. a process of development."

Hegel's dialectics would later be reinterpreted through the prism of materialism by Marx and Engels to create dialectical materialism - the basis for historical materialism.

"Still, this idea, as formulated by Marx and Engels on the basis of Hegels’ philosophy, is far more comprehensive and far richer in content than the current idea of evolution is. A development that repeats, as it were, stages that have already been passed, but repeats them in a different way, on a higher basis, (...) a development, so to speak, that proceeds in spirals, not in a straight line; a development by leaps, catastrophes, and revolutions; (...) the interdependence and the closest and indissoluble connection between all aspects of any phenomenon (history constantly revealing ever new aspects), a connection that provides a uniform, and universal process of motion, one that follows definite laws - these are some of the features of dialectics as a doctrine of development that is richer than the conventional one."

The tower embodies progress in materialist understanding of history while also indicating the connection to ideological plasm, a manifestation of "the proletariat's embrace of historical materialism", necessary to create a better future.

According to Nilsen, the proletariat of a revolutionary state can generate enough plasm to create extra-physical architecture that "disregards the laws of 'bourgeois physics' and instead relies on the revolutionary faith of the people for structural integrity."

This function of plasm implies that The Tower of History can be created only under revolutionary circumstances - without a sufficient amount of plasm even the matchbox model didn't stay up. The exact same sentiment is expressed about Tatlin's Tower: "We maintain that only the full power of the multimillion strong proletarian consciousness could bring into the world the idea of this monument and its forms. The monument must be realized by the muscles of this power, because we have an ideal, living and classical expression the pure and creative form of the international union of the workers of the whole world."

Nilsen called it "the highest expression of Communist principles, a society whose literal foundation is the faith of its people."

Tatlin's Tower was a symbol of faith in the revolutionary future, the global triumph of Marxist socialism. A monument "made of iron, glass and revolution."

It was never built in real life, and neither was The Tower of History in the world of Elysium.

But you can try to see if there's enough plasm between the three of you. And the matchbox tower stays up for a long moment, quivering with an improbable energy. You believe it can say up - and it does.

So you have to believe; whether it's for collective action or generating ideological plasm. Then, together, maybe you'll be able to build as much as 0.0002% of communism.

[vmpssd]

more bill brainrot since you're okay with it :) (i think so anyway)

now, I don't really know what scenario to place this in- maybe he's starting to warm up more (physically, emotionally??) or maybe he's helping around your home, I don't know man, D:

he's been really helpful recently, helping with the laundry scattered in the living room, helping to dust some cobwebs in more shaded areas, and other areas of housework.

you couldn't be more thankful for him being so good, lately. it just made your heart warm from seeing him being such a positive influence within you.

you hum whilst drying some dishes, drying them down with a towel while bill takes the dried plates and puts them away, finishing up with your cleaning and with bill putting the last plate away, you smile at him.

"thank you again billy, you've been such a good help, taking such a load off my back."

bill coughs. his yellow color turning red just underneath his eye like blush. his eye averts you, trying to brush it off.

"i'm so good aren't i? the best. you couldn't even think of someone better!"

"mhm, always the best, sweetheart. so good for mommy."

there's something about the way a shiver creeps all the way across bill's body that feels so unreal, even for him. there's a slight, glitched gasp that emits from him at the word 'mommy' that he doesn't seem to register the effect it also has on his body.

bill feels himself heating up considerably fast, a low whine floating through his (non-existent??) mouth. it's not long before you feel him attach himself closer to you, whispering (almost in embarassment) for you to keep talking, just, keep talking.

so you do. "awwh, mommy made you all flustered, billy? so cute. maybe there's a way to make you even more red than you are now."

bill won't admit this (atleast not in this very moment) but he can't deny the pleasure that soars through him that causes his legs to twitch and shake.

he's breathing really heavy now, his eye half-lidded and solely focused on you. watching the way you smile, how your lips curve, that sensual look in your eyes, the way how your body is positioned, just looking down at him like that. (he's in love with it, infatuated, even.)

so when you bend down, pick up his slightly trembling form, and start planting kisses all over him, smearing your lipstick across his body, he can't bring himself to formulate words. let alone a sentence.

he feels the way your lipstick-stained lips glide across his body, the whispers and promises you tell him, the swipe of your tongue and drag of your teeth over his more sensitive zones. oh-ho-ho, he's done for.

"what do you think, billy? should we go back to our room and finish this there? mommy has so much planned with you.."

bill has never made a deal so fast in his life.

(...AAAAAAAA IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD OR SOMETHING, I DIDNT REALLY KNOW WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS BUT I HOPE ITS OKAY TO READ IT!! LOVE YOUUU FOR LETTING ME RANT, LEMME KNOW IF ITS ANNOYING, THANK YOU!!)

NO ANON DW DON'T STOP TALKING AND YES IM OKAY WITH IT, I WOULD BE HAPPY TO HEAR YOUR IDEAS BECAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH IT TOO

YOU JUST GAVE ME A WHOLE FIC AND NOW I AM LOVING YOUR MIND. HIM HELPING US WITH HOUSE CHORES AND HOW IN CHARACTER THIS IS?

'aren't i the best' PROCEEDS TO BE A MESS WHEN WE CALL HIM SWEETHEART AND THANK HIM FOR EVERYTHING

I WOULD PUT ON LIPSTICK JUST TO KISS HIM UGGHHHH to see it on his body no matter the shape or if he's even human, im soooo down bad for him that i would do the triangle without hesitation

looking down at him, chuckling to myself to his whines and how each 'mommy' coming out of my lips gets cipher more worked up 😞😞 manifesting this

THE DRAG OF TEETH OHHHH YOURE COOKING ANON I DO HAVE SO MUCH TO DO TO HIM, NOT WRONG IN THAT

NOT BAD ANON YOUR WRITING IS MMHH GOOD, I ATE THIS ALL UP LIKE THE MOST DELICIOUS MEAL I HAD IN WEEKS BCZ NOT MANY PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THIS, I MYSELF NEVER SAW IT

not annoying also anon! you're welcome to come and rant in my asks whenever you want to!

[aimzicr]

NaNoWriMo official statement: We want to be clear in our belief that the categorical condemnation of Artificial Intelligence has classist and ableist undertones, and that questions around the use of AI tie to questions around privilege.

Translation: Disabled people and poor people can't write and they need the Theft Machines to actually be good writers, and disagreeing with us is means you're a fundamentally bad person.

Meanwhile, Ted Chiang: "Believing that inspiration outweighs everything else is, I suspect, a sign that someone is unfamiliar with the medium."

"Many novelists have had the experience of being approached by someone convinced that they have a great idea for a novel, which they are willing to share in exchange for a fifty-fifty split of the proceeds. Such a person inadvertently reveals that they think formulating sentences is a nuisance rather than a fundamental part of storytelling in prose. Generative A.I. appeals to people who think they can express themselves in a medium without actually working in that medium. But the creators of traditional novels, paintings, and films are drawn to those art forms because they see the unique expressive potential that each medium affords. It is their eagerness to take full advantage of those potentialities that makes their work satisfying, whether as entertainment or as art."

"The programmer Simon Willison has described the training for large language models as “money laundering for copyrighted data,” which I find a useful way to think about the appeal of generative-A.I. programs: they let you engage in something like plagiarism, but there’s no guilt associated with it because it’s not clear even to you that you’re copying."

"Is the world better off with more documents that have had minimal effort expended on them? ... Can anyone seriously argue that this is an improvement?"

"The task that generative A.I. has been most successful at is lowering our expectations, both of the things we read and of ourselves when we write anything for others to read. It is a fundamentally dehumanizing technology because it treats us as less than what we are: creators and apprehenders of meaning. It reduces the amount of intention in the world."

-----------

I'm with Ted on this one. What the actual fuck, NaNoWriMo? Makes me wonder what the purpose behind the 'doublecheck your wordcount' box has been used for all these years, if not stealing for the Theft Machines.

Sources:

NaNo's original statement

NaNo's attempt at backtracking

Ted Chiang's New Yorker article (paywalled, but i hit refresh until it gave up)

Techcrunch article