#workshop shots

[puppitproductions]

Long time no see everyone~ Due to various reasons I'm not going to get into right now, Puppit Productions has been a bit on standby this past year, but I'm hoping to make a comeback. For now, enjoy Rudolph the Bionic Reindeer: Found this 3-legged darling in the discount bin and thought I'd give him a kick-ass mobility aid.

[joelsdagger]

‘tis the season || one shot

joel miller x f!reader

nothing new. nothing exciting. just some pwp. major shout out to my very freaky girl @dinandwhiskey, this fic was born due to our 4am conversations about fucking Our Old Man on viagra. and to my fellow ocean unicorn @joeloverture, for the encouragement, always. and to @pedrospatch, for being my eyes, and my biggest cheerleader, you have my heart. anyway – merry christmas eve eve & happy holidays ya filthy animals. may 2025 be ever so kind to you <33

pairing: dbf!joel x reader summary: you’re back in town for christmas, and it’s been months since you’ve seen your boyfriend, joel miller. and he decides to make the most of the brief window of time you have together.  or,  joel fucks you after taking viagra. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings: [no-outbreak au], implied age gap [no mention of ages but reader is in college], secret established long distance relationship [that’s a mouth full] [that’s what she said], drug use, joel miller on viagra is a beast, pet names [baby, darlin’, sweetheart, kiddo], sexualization of the terms kiddo & old man, [mocking] dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, daddy kink, brief mentions of smut that occurs off page [i.e: face-sitting, fingering, anal play, ass eating/rimming, a reach around handjob, f! & m! receiving oral], softdom!joel, unprotected piv, missionary, mating press, overstimulation [rip our girl she’s fighting for her life], dacryphilia, finger sucking, biting, smidge of a pain kink, creampie, squirting, joel fucks you while you’re on the phone with your father, mentions of christmas, (2) christmas puns [author apologizes in advance for said puns], probably [most likely] inaccurate and unrealistic descriptions to the effects of viagra [remember, this is fiction!!], omitting a few tags as to avoid spoilers!!, aaaaand lastly, they’re in love BYE! word count: 3.5k

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for notifs on when i post my writing!

“Just one more time, sweetheart.”

You don’t respond, tongue-tied. The agonizingly slow drag of his cock inside you is too much, your mind is a blur. 

Joel’s been fucking you for hours. He’s made you come six times since you practically pranced through his front door. Twice on his face, once on his fingers, and three times on his cock. And now you’re overstimulated — cunt swollen and almost begging for relief — but Joel, driven by your high-pitched moans and strained whimpers, is unable to stop himself, working to make you come just one more fucking time.

It’s thanks to that stupid little blue pill his buddy slipped him that he’d been able to fuck you for this long. 

In truth, he doesn’t need it. He never needs it. He fucks you perfectly fine without it. But you’re home for the holidays, and you haven’t seen him or come successfully on your own since the beginning of the fall term, and Joel wanted to take advantage of that.

Send you back fucked so full o’me you’ll feel me in here for weeks, he’d groaned. 

Your drippy hole stretched out and clamped tight around the thick girth of him. It had been so long, your face contorted at the sharp sting, and a pained hiss escaped through his gritted teeth when he pushed the delicious fat tip of his cock past your puffy folds, splitting you in two. 

The warm walls of your cunt pulse around his shaft, your clit throbs against the wet thatch of thick hairs stippled gray at his base. You’re too sensitive, too tender, cunt stinging with every long stroke, but not in the way it makes you want to use your safe word. 

It’s just that Joel hasn’t let up. Two hours spent making you come and he hasn’t let up once. The only time he had given you some semblance of a break was when he got up, turned around, and sat on your face at your plea — your desire to show him how good he had made you feel all those times before. 

His cock in your hand, weak fist tugging away at his length while you lathed away at the tight little hole in the crease between his ass cheeks. Even then, Joel couldn't help himself; shoved three thick fingers into your puffy pussy — timing the thrust of them to the desperate pumps of your joint fists — jacking his cock in unison while you writhed beneath him, pulling another climax from you. 

Only when his sweaty thighs quivered around your body, chin tilted towards the ceiling and a stream of profanities poured from his lips, his body curling over yours as hot spurts of his cum painted your soft tummy when he felt your finger slipping past his puckered rim to the knuckle, had he given you a break. 

“Attagirl, just like that. Pretty little pussy’s gonna cum all over me. C’mon, baby, give it to me,” Joel’s voice is thick with arousal as he rambles above you, his hips expertly rolling into yours, head of his cock nudging that place incompetent college boys have failed to reach. 

“Joel—fuck—I don’t think I can—” You gasp frantically, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, arms wound tight around him.

He smirks with another deliberate roll of his hips. “Thought you said you could keep up. Isn’t that what you said? “Naw, I reckon you said, Try keeping up, old man, wasn’t that it?”  He mocks, imitating your words from earlier. Fucking bastard. 

A whimpering mess, your eyes pinch shut in response. 

“I can’t—” you croak, fingernails digging into his shoulders. 

Deft hands brush your hair back from your face. “You can. I know you can, baby.”  His voice softer, barely audible through the wet smack of his balls, smeared in the evidence of your earlier release, firmly slapping against the curve of your ass. The sounds obscenely echoing through the quiet of his bedroom. 

You whimper and try fruitlessly to nod. He knows you can, and he’s right. Your hips wouldn’t be grinding up off the mattress to meet his thrusts. You wouldn’t be feeling something roiling low in your belly.

“One more time, baby. Give me one more n’ I’ll let this sore little pussy rest,” he whispers, lips kissing away your salty tears. 

You nod eagerly. His hand reaches up to the headboard, fingers curling around it and locking into place, his other removes one of yours from his shoulder, pins it to the pillow above your head. And with his hand clasping your damp palm, fingers squeezing then interlocking with yours, he fucks you harder. 

The change in pace has tears spilling from your eyes and pooling into the shells of your ears. The wave swells, swells, swells —

Your phone screen lights up the dark room, buzzing on Joel’s nightstand. 

You freeze, neck craning in the direction of the vibration, eyes squinting and damp lashes fluttering at the bright screen, Dad, it reads. 

Shit. 

You gaze back up at Joel, wide-eyed, panic surging in your chest. Joel growls. “Don’t answer.” 

You don’t listen. You know your father, he’ll keep calling until you answer. Without saying another word, your hand comes up to the wooden surface in search of your phone. You take a few deep breaths, trying to quell the anxious heat swirling inside you, unplug your phone from the charger, slide a shaky thumb across the screen, and press the phone to the shell of your ear.

“Hey—” You clear your throat awkwardly, “Hey, Dad,” your voice breathy, tired.

You unstick your body from Joel’s, your free hand presses to his strong chest, a silent effort to halt his movements.

“Kid! I’m sorry to call you this late, but before you left for Eve’s, I forgot to let you know to be home in time for breakfast.” 

Jesus. That could’ve been a text. 

You sit up, scoot back into the pillows, while Joel sits back on his knees, wincing in unison as his cum-drenched cock slips out of your overflowing slit. Almost instantly, you feel a steady stream of his spend trickle out of your opening. He’d already managed to fill you to the brim three times tonight.

You fiddle with your bottom lip. “Breakfast? I thought we were just doing dinner.”

“Well, I thought since you’re only in town for a few days, we could go the whole nine yards. I missed our breakfasts together. I enjoy them, kid,” he says softly. 

Your bleary eyes flick back to Joel. The smug grin that graces his lips and the gleam of something darker in his eyes don’t put you at ease. He’s up to something, as always. 

You grumble, massaging your forehead. “Yeah, sure, Dad. I’ll be home by nine. Listen, I gotta—” 

“Oh! Speakin’ of dinner, I was thinking of inviting Joel over,” your dad says, plainly.  

Your heart stutters. “Joel? W-Why?”

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches, dark eyes glimmer with mischief. Two heavy hands find your waist, and he’s sliding you back down towards him. Slow and suspicious, one of his hands finds your knee, and presses it flush to the mattress. You both watch as his other hand cups the back of your other knee, pushing it back down to match the other, exposing you to the sex-tainted air. With his eyes transfixed on the slow trickle of his spend, his hand then wraps around the base of his cock, tip lining up with your aching hole. 

There it is. 

“Poor guy has been asking about you, kid.” And Joel glides the head of his cock up and down your puffy seam, collecting your mixed juices on his tip then taps the heavy weight of it on your perked clit twice in quick succession; Joel smirks at the wet smack. You jolt, thighs attempting to clamp shut, his firm grip on your knee tightens, keeping you open for him. 

You pinch your eyes closed and curse under your breath. 

“What was that, honey?” 

Your eyes snap open, and you scramble to recover, “N-nothing, I just–” You clear your throat again. “Sorry. What were you saying, Dad?”

Joel chuckles lowly as he leans forward on top of you, pressing his broad frame in on you, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. Chest to chest, belly to belly, pelvis to pelvis, tacky skin against tacky skin, once again as before. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, and with his mouth at your other ear, his tongue darts out to lick at the salty droplet there before suckling ever so slightly on your flesh, you bite back a moan. 

Your dad, oblivious to your current state, continues, “Oh— Joel’s been asking after you. Think he’s getting sick of your old man if I’m honest. He keeps telling me he misses having you around, always goin’ on about how you’ve grown up right before his eyes…”

He can hear him. You know he can by the feel of the corner of his mouth curling up into a grin, teeth grazing your carotid now. He lifts his head, dark gaze meeting yours while his massive hands cup your tits, caressing, squeezing, kneading, while muttering, Goddamn have you grown up. 

Your cunt flutters around nothing, and you sigh into the phone; your dad doesn’t hear it through his rambling. You don’t register what he’s chatting away about because then, Joel’s nose nuzzles into your neck, traces a line up, up, up until his tongue snakes out and meets the curve of your earlobe. Licks the meat of it into his mouth and takes it between his teeth, your whimper cuts off into a moan when the bite turns sharp.  

His fingers fiddle with your nipples. “Naughty little thing,” Joel taunts, warmth of his breath fanning across the hinge of your jaw, “You liked that?” 

You keen and nod, his hand dips south between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his length, notches the too-wide cockhead at your too-small hole. You turn your head, pressing your mouth to the scruff of his beard, muffling the whine he elicits from you. 

Joel pushes inside, takes a moment, and just to mess with you — he fucks his tip in and out of your drooling hole in small pulses — once, twice, thrice — teasing you, making you moan. He tilts his head, nosing your cheek, breath hot and voice deep, “Listen,” he commands.

Absentmindedly, you tilt your phone away from your ear, away from your dad’s mumblings. You strain your ears to obey him. In and out, in and out. The squelch of your sticky wet reverberates  against the four walls of his bedroom as the blunt head of his cock moves in and out. 

In. And out.  

“Fuck,” you mutter, eyes flitting down to watch his cock impale you. 

Your dad’s voice cuts in through the fog, redrawing your attention.

“Sweetie? You okay? What’s wrong?” 

Your eyes widen. Shit. “I’m–I’m–fine, I– I j-just stubbed my toe. Dad, I really can’t t–” You stammer, and Joel chuckles lowly. 

Your stuttering emboldens him, taking it as an invitation to torture you further, and with his lips against your ear, a breathy moan escapes from his lips as Joel feeds you his cock, slowly working himself back into your spent cunt. So painfully slow that he ensures you feel every ridge and every vein, and in turn, he feels every inch of your warm, velvet walls sucking him in as he eases himself into you. Used cunt clamped tight around him as you welcome him back in — inch by torturous inch. 

He stills once he reaches resistance, and you bite your bottom lip hard enough that you taste copper, suppressing the moan climbing up your chest as his tip knocks your cervix, heavy balls pressed flush to your ass — finally bottoming out inside you.

He ruts into you once, tip bumps your cervix again — goading you, and you gasp in return, fingernails indenting his shoulder, half–moon crescents marking his skin. Beads of sweat roll off his forehead and onto your face, mixing with the warm tears now cascading down your face, and your tongue darts out to taste it. The flavor of him — his sweat, his musk — only feeds the dizzying blur that is your mind. But through the foggy haze and the lewd, wet slap of flesh against flesh, you think you can hear your dad saying, You really need to quit the habit of walking around in the dark, kiddo.

And you think you’re nodding, an endless litany of, yes, yeah–yeah slipping past your lips, as you rush your way through the phone call with your father, uncaring. Only interested in the shifts of Joel’s hips, slowly fucking into you in measured thrusts.

Joel tuts. “Such a dirty fuckin’ girl, gettin’ off while speakin’ to her daddy.” And your grip in his hair tightens, walls tensing in response. “Attagirl, keep squeezin’ me like that. You gonna show me just how naughty you are for me, hm? Gonna let me have it with him on the phone? Gonna cream all over my cock, naughty girl?”

You nod your head numbly, mouth dry and unable to speak with the tip of his cock prodding at the soft spot inside you on every languid stroke, hips swaying back and forth.

The wave begins to crest, and despite your eager nodding at Joel only a second prior, there’s no way in hell you’re really going to come on your boyfriend’s cock — your dad’s best friend — while on the phone with your father. 

Your voice claws its way up your throat, “D-dad, I’m — mmm — sorry I really have to g–”​ You think your thumb presses the red button, but your phone slips from your hand, dropping to the carpet with a muffled thump, and it’s too late to check if you’ve fully hung up on him, and frankly, you’re too consumed by your lover to care. 

Grinning with pride, Joel pulls back, cock halfway out of your pussy and your hands grasp at his shoulders. 

“Joel— f-fuck–please,” you beg, your resolve melting. 

He clicks his tongue. “Na-uh, try again.” 

“D-d-daddy–please,” you whine. 

“D-d-daddy,” he mocks above you. “Say it, pretty girl.” He knows, but he wants to hear you say it. 

“Harder. Please, daddy–I–I wanna come, please, I wanna come,” you mewl, voice all whiny and petulant.

He says nothing. Without pulling out of you, his long fingers wrap around to grip the backs of your knees, pinning your thighs to your chest, knees to your shoulders, feet dangling in the air beside his beautiful head, folding you in half. Then, he moves to plant his feet flat on the mattress, propping himself up, hands on your thighs to steady himself. 

You’re already a mewling, writhing mess underneath him as he fucks in and out of your wasted cunt — it doesn’t take much longer for you to get there. The air fills with sounds of the headboard hammering against the wall and filthy, sloppy sounds of where you two are connected as he bashes into you with arrant primal vigor.

The new angle has him hitting a point inside you, deeper than you ever thought to exist. And still — the wave doesn’t break. With his eyes locked on yours, you know he can tell. He can always tell. He’s made you scream his name enough times since the beginning of your many clandestine meetings last summer to know when you’re teetering on the edge. In need of more. 

And for a moment, you think you can see it in him. Hazel eyes practically glint against the pale moonlight that spills into his bedroom. Joel bares his teeth in a cocky grin, his hand releases one of your thighs to cup your face, thumb parting your plush lips when he says, give it to me, kiddo, soak your old man’s cock. 

Oh fuck. 

Your eyelids flutter shut, your head falling back onto the pillows, hands clutching and pulling at tufts of his grizzled curls. Lips closing around his thumb wedged in your mouth; licking, sucking, biting into his flesh, as the crest finally breaks and washes over you, taking you under the rogue waves.  

But Joel still doesn’t let up. One more time, my ass. 

He’s insatiable. And he shows you just how insatiable he is when his thumb slips from your spit-smeared lips and reaches between your bodies, the pads of his fingers expertly thrum at your sensitive clit.

Your face twinges up at the intense, almost painful pressure as he pinches your clit between his index and middle fingers, hard. The swing of his hips speeds up, cock relentlessly beating your sore cunt. The sight of his girth, disappearing and reappearing as he pounds your pussy at a punishing pace, and his fingers twisting your swollen clit has your belly pulling taut and snapping within the same beat. With a broken shout of his name, you gush around the root of his cock, dripping down his balls. It’s warm and sticky when it seeps down, past your tight ring of muscle, soaking his blue sheets and turning them the shade of charcoal gray. 

Joel coaxes you through your seventh–eighth toe-curling orgasm of the night. An endless stream of sweet nothings spills from him — good girl, that’s it, kiddo. I know, I know, it’s so much, I know – fuck– such a good fuckin’ girl, as he fucks you through it. 

Your sloppy cunt clenches around him, and with his cock choked tight, deep within your bruised walls, he follows soon after. Growls raggedly as he unravels, and his own orgasm rolls through him, decking the hall of your weeping cunt with warm, milky ropes of cum for the fourth time tonight. 

Joel collapses onto your sticky chest, placing open-mouthed kisses to your dampened face — your cheek, your nose, your forehead, while he pumps you full of his seed, abiding by his promise. And when he’s done, his sweaty forehead drops to yours for a moment. The waves now a steady ripple through your body as you come down.

After a moment, he lifts his head, and in retaliation for giving you what was possibly the best fuck of your life while on the phone with your father and nearly exposing your tryst, you bring one of his hands to your face, hollow your cheeks, and suck his thumb while looking up at him with wide and falsely innocent eyes. 

He licks his lips but manages to pry his post-coital eyes away. Instead, his cum-soaked cock slips out of your tired, leaking cunt. When he leans back, you swallow a moan, catching sight of the aftermath of your many arousals in his pubic hair. Graying curls swimming in a pool of your combined releases that drips down his thighs. A thin strand of your shared pearlescent spend shines in the soft moonlight, stretching from his balls to your folds, still connecting the two of you as he pulls away. 

Joel misses it, something else pulls his attention. His gaze shifts to the clock beside your head. A hint of a smirk passes over his lips. 

“You’re lucky it’s Christmas, darlin’,” voice low, dangerous. 

Your head snaps in the same direction. It’s past midnight. You smirk in turn and pull the comforter up to hide it.

You feel him shift over you, elbow popping loudly as he reaches for what he’s looking for before he moves to sit up beside you, back against the headboard. His hand pulls the comforter back down from your face, and you roll over and sit up on your knees to face him. 

His other palm opens, wordlessly presenting you with a single twig of some plant. One with moss green, teardrop–shaped leaves and plump, round berries, waxy and opaque in color.  

Mistletoe.

You take the meat of your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a laugh that threatens to bubble through you. Because of fucking course he would. 

Though, the soft laugh is short-lived. His broad hand waves the mistletoe over him, but not where it should be. Your gaze follows the movement of his hand, and your mouth falls agape. Your eyes snap back up to Joel’s, and his wicked smirk broadens.

Joel Miller — naked as the day he was born and splayed on top of his messy sheets — dangles the mistletoe over his length, still hard as a rock and stirring in his other hand.

But it doesn’t stop there. 

Beneath the mistletoe rests a lump of bright red and velvety felt; a fluffy white cuff rounds the brim, and a matching fuzzy white bobble hangs at the end of it. 

A Santa hat perched jauntily on his cock.

You shut your mouth and swallow thickly, already feeling that familiar ache at the apex of your thighs, and you clench around emptiness, a stream of his seed dribbling out of your overstuffed cunt and further soiling his bedding. 

“But it ain’t a Merry one till you give Santa's big sack a few kisses.”

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - Traverse Town

[build-a-buddy]

Build a Bear Fennec Fox

[bulbagarden]

hiya trainers, lisia here again!! just wanting to tell you about our one-shot fanfiction contest that i'm running over on our forums, specifically in our writers' workshop, which i'm the head of! our theme this year is fall -- very open-ended, but we think our writers will be able to use it in many creative ways!

here's the link! https://bulbagarden.net/threads/fall-2024-one-shot-contest-announcement.303264/unread

signups close on the 24th, so please register even if you're not fully sure you'll be able to commit to submitting an entry! me and blanc are both hoping to write entries for it, and i'll be judging, so we hope to see you there~.

our prizes range from advertisement on our social media accounts, to (maybe) a forums badge, to a secret new forums feature being unveiled just for this!! you don't wanna miss it, so please, sign up if you're interested, or share with any you know who would be! o//

[theworkshopmann]

Heart Shot

For all the Cloud 9 lovers

Type: Warpaint

Class: ALL

Accepted in game: no

This warpaint was made by Steam users Ashannabuda and Crowdough. Posted on February 24th 2023, you can vote for this here!

[thousand-winters]

Thinking about a D&D episode now (shout out to @lord-pretzel for the tag that gave me the idea).

Kaido would bring up the idea because that's exactly the kind of thing he would like, so naturally Saiki, Kuboyasu and Nendo are getting dragged into it to different levels of willingness. Then either Teruhashi or Yumehara are hearing about it and they're getting involved now alongside Mera. Hairo gets invited because everyone likes Hairo and Saiko is dragged along via his soft spot for Nendo.

It's a whole disaster.

Kaido is DMing with the edgiest story known to mankind, but his dramatics are actually very good to act the part of the enemies when it comes down to it, especially since he's amongst friends so he doesn't have to worry about stage fright.

Saiki debated for a whole hour about what kind of character he should make and what everyone would assume about him based on that. In the end, he went with Human Fighter, he's fulfilling his dreams of being the most average guy ever (although he's suffering because he can read Kaido's thoughts and knows the plot twists, unless he acquired another germanium ring and brought it along to actually enjoy this).

Teruhashi really wanted to try one of the most out there races like Bugbear or Goblin, but she's still too worried about what that would say about her so she ended up going with an Elf. She ended up picking a Bard for her Class since being charming is kinda expected of her but she was eyeing the Barbarians and Monks.

Nendo would be a Fighter too became he wasn't paying attention and Kaido just gave him that because he figured it would be the least complicated. Or a Barbarian, which in the end doesn't matter much because he just uses his attacks whenever someone is attacking Saiki, most of the time he actually tries to play nice with whoever they encounter because this is Nendo.

Hairo makes a Monk and he's far too committed to the bit. He breaks one of the lamps in the Kaidos' household because he insists in actually acting out each attack his character makes. He's trying to get more "wins" than Nendo's character despite the fact this is a cooperative game and Nendo isn't even interested in competing in the first place, but that tracks for them.

Yumehara was mostly planning to try and flirt with the NPCs Kaido offered as a subtle hint so they would have to act out romance scenes, so she picked a half-elf for the pretty factor, but she ended up getting far too attached to her cool Fiend Warlock spells and forgot about her initial goal, now she's kinda invested in acting out her backstory and using her most heinous spells if she gets the chance (it's the Occult Club vibes carrying over).

Mera is more interested in the snacks they brought at first so she's not paying that much attention to the game, but because she had no time between her multiple jobs, her character is basically her with some Rogue cosmetics. Her backstory includes too providing for her siblings and she ends up getting oddly passionate about the NPCs paying the party for their services because she gotta provide for her family, she can't do this work for free, for shame.

Kuboyasu is trying the "what I want to be" approach and went all the way to the other side so he made a Paladin of Devotion. He has to remind himself not to try and beat the shit out of every NPC who's kinda rude to them or of Saiko's character because he has an oath and he's NOT going to break it, though he doesn't hesitate at all as soon as they get a reason to attack.

Saiko wasn't particularly interested in this in the first place but he ended up going for a Druid so he could have his tiger. He put a lot of emphasis on picking the Noble background so he could have retainers, which is a bit hard to reconcile with his class, but he wasn't having it any other way. He makes very good use of those NPC retainers so he can have them doing for his character all the things he would have his real life servant do. He provided at least 75% of the snacks because he didn't want to eat "peasant food".

Despite all the disaster, it becomes a tradition.

[khaopybara]

Our own gossip boy said today during today's live that The Heart Killers workshops will happen in June (which makes a lot more sense to me) and the shooting for the series will start next month (July), so yeah, it'll take a little longer, but it's coming anyway.

[flufflecat]

I met a lovely bumblebee a few days ago (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[legionofpotatoes]

postcard thumbnail generator unlimited

[punks-never-die205]

Workshop

Fem Reader x Eustass Kid

One Shot - 2,510 words

CW: Language, sexual themes and situations, bondage, use of toys, rough sex, consensual, modern implied au, 18+ only

Your body trembled, but you weren't surprised. You'd lost, fair and square as far as you could tell, and this was the price for that. The small device vibrated deep inside your sopping wet folds, as it had been since you woke up this morning. These were the parameters you had agreed to when you first decided to play cards again Eustass-"Captain"-Fucking-Kid.

Two hours later you thought the battery would be dead, but Kid probably modified the egg-shaped vibrator, assuming the bastard hadn't just built the thing from scratch himself. You knocked on the door of his garage and heard the shift of metal and the usual grumpy grousing of your – admittedly – favorite red head.

When he opened the door the aggravated look on his face melted away to one very pleased grin.

"How're you doing, Mouse?"

"I've been up, and showered, since 7am, Kid." You explain, doing your best to keep your voice steady. It had been having an effect on you a little before now, but having Kid practically leer at you while you were talking caused the heat to rise in your face.

And pool in your thighs.

"And?"

You flinch and pull out the remote control from your pocket. "And the battery hasn't died in the last two hours, asshole."

"Underestimated my ability at cards, and then underestimated my battery." Kid leans over you, whispering in your ear. His voice is low, and authoritative, the tone of it sends shivers to your core. "Going to underestimate anything else?"

You lick your lips and swallow hard. "No." You don't look at him when you reply, but you know your face is giving you away regardless.

There's a moment of silence, and then you feel the egg vibrating harder inside you. Kid must've cranked the remote, but you hadn't seen him move. You make a noise, that catches in your chest and your legs shudder as you reach out and steady yourself against him.

There's a pleased hum from him, you can almost feel more than hear, and you're sure he's grinning that sly cheeky grin of his. The new power behind the vibrating egg is swelling pleasure up inside you way faster than the low setting it had been on all morning had managed. But it wasn't enough to grant you release, at least not on its own.

"K-Kid, haa, please." You've literally been being toyed with for the last two hours and you were desperate before you'd even gotten into your car and come over to the shop.

"Mm begging is a good start Mouse." His metal arm wraps around your back and his right hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look up at him. Your face is flushed, and your breathing is heavy, a strong needy desire etched in your expression.  "That's a good look on you."

He leans down, and pulls you up to him in the same movement, crashing your lips into his and pulling the air from your lungs with the deep kiss. The pleasure of the kiss, and the pressure of being held are almost enough to make the vibrations from the egg bring you to the edge.

Almost, but not enough. If he'd just squeeze your ass or tease a nipple like the ruffian usually does you'd be a puddle on the floor, but you already know he's consciously avoiding doing so.

You whimper as the kiss breaks, your heavy, panting breaths falling over Kid's skin. The smirk on his lips is almost cruel but being at his mercy like this is delicious. You squirm a little, but Kid's got a good grip on you, and he walks both of you into his workshop in the back of the garage.

There's the crash and clatter of metal as the workbench is cleared and Kid sets you down on it. He pulls your wrists over your head, and you feel him set them against something wooden. There's the soft snap of things clicking into place and you realize your hands are stuck. You struggle against the restraints and a soft moan escapes you.

"Mm, I know you like being restrained, Mouse, but already making sounds like that?" Kid muses, pulling your shoes off and tossing them aside. You didn't have to see his face to know the shape of the devious grin that was on it. "Feels a bit like Christmas."

You felt him pop the button of your jeans and the heat rushes to your face as a satisfied sound comes from him.

"Nothing under the jeans? Naughty girl." You can feel him licking his lips as he pulls the jeans off roughly, tossing them somewhere around your shoes.

Warm fingers, and cold metal ones, move over your bare legs. The light touches cause you to tremble and squirm, pulling against what has your wrists held as your legs try to pull away from the ticklish sensations. You're whimpering into the air at every little touch, and Kid is delighting in it.

He hooks your squirming legs over his elbows, spreading you open and keeping you in place. You squirm harder, trying to bring your legs closed, but there's no way for you to do so. Your body tenses and twitches, your breathing coming out in heavy moan-laced gasps.

"Fuck. You're literally dripping." Kid swears. "I don't think I've ever seen you so wet."

"Hngh, don't st-stare like that," you whimper weakly, knowing there's nothing you can do about it.

"Sure thing, Mouse." Kid replies, and before you can vocalize your confusion your legs are pushed open further as Kid's mouth dives into you. His tongue and lips find your swollen clit quickly, and he abuses it without mercy.

The rush of pleasure bucks through your whole body and after you manage to suck in a deep breath you're practically screaming into the workshop. Between the egg vibrating inside you and Kid consuming you, your first shuddering orgasm hits you hard and fast. Every muscle tenses, your toes curl, and the sound that comes out of you is more of a guttural grunt than a moan. You convulse so hard inside and out that you hear the vibrating egg clatter to the floor, only vaguely aware of its exit.

Pleasure surges through your body like an actual current, spasming your muscles and causing your head to spin from lack of oxygen as most of it is spent vocalizing the hard orgasm. The mechanical egg was polite enough to vacate and give you a little reprieve, but the empty feeling was almost worse. Besides, Eustass isn't as kind as the egg, and continues sucking on your clit until you've rode out every twitch and sensation from the orgasm.

"What a good pet," he muses, licking and slurping your pussy like it's ambrosia. His continued enjoyment of you is beginning to build you up to another climax.

Putting his hands on the edge of the workbench, keeping your legs spread wide as he leans over you, his face is glistening with signs of your orgasm, and he licks his lips before leaning down and kissing you deeply.

His erection grinds against you, causing you to moan into his mouth. By the time he breaks the kiss you're red in the face, panting heavily, tongue practically falling out of your mouth. Your brain feels like mush and the pleasure pooling in your thighs isn't fading.

"Already blissed the fuck out, huh Mouse?" Kid muses, not expecting or waiting for a reply from you. "Well, it's a shame we're not done yet."

You can hardly register what's going on until there's something hard poking against your still twitching entrance. His pants are no longer in the way, and you feel his hot flesh slipping up and down along your twitchy sopping pussy. The sensation is enough to pull a few soft whimpers from you, but you're still lost in a thick haze of pleasure.

As you finally start to come down from your first high you see Kid's deliciously devious grin looking down at you. The grin makes your heart leap, a mix of delight and fear that he's going to fuck you unconscious. There's recognition in his face, and he knows you're more aware than you were a moment ago.

"Welcome back," he grins and rams his entire cock into you with a rough grunt. You twitch and tense around him, the air is pushed from you and the cry of pleasure as he fills you is cut short from the rush of oxygen that leaves you. Your legs wrap around him involuntarily, pulling him in close, and you hear him swear as his fingers dig into your hips for a moment.

He gives both of you only the barest moment to adjust before he starts moving in long, terribly slow strokes that cause your breath to hitch in your throat. His hands slip up your hips and past your waist, pushing your shirt up as he slides back into you slowly.

Fingers, metal and flesh alike, pinch and roll your nipples between deftly moving digits. His pace picks up as he starts twisting the sensitive and hard peaks of flesh. The sounds coming from you are a mix of pleasure and pain, hissing against a particularly sharp pinch or twist and moaning at the building pleasure between your thighs. You can't defend against either sensation as he seems to decide between pleasure and pain randomly.

It doesn't take long and you're tensing underneath him again.

"K-kiiiiid," you moan, your back arching. "I'm gonna-!"

He pushes into you faster, his hands providing nothing but pleasure as the building wave crashes into you again. As the orgasm tears through your body, Kid twists your nipples harshly, the pain rips through your sensitive body alongside the pleasure and your whole body bucks and curls. You scream out his name, and your body collapses into the work bench in a pile of deliriously pleasurable sensations that have your brain addled.

You're covered in a thin sheen of sweat, panting heavily and almost shivering from the exhaustion of having orgasmed so hard in such short order. Kid's hand is moving over your body slowly, his hips just barely rolling to remind you of his need still buried deep between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're beautiful like this (Y/N)." His voice is husky, needy, and deep. It's a velvet growl, elegant as it is hungry, while his tongue slips across his sharp, nearly feral teeth as if to punctuate his desire.

Those golden eyes are locked on you. You can feel yourself completely caught by him, almost completely devoured by his lust and love in equal measure. You lack the strength to lift your legs, or roll your hips back against him, and when he sees you trying, he smiles. Hooking your knees over his elbows again, he leans down and kisses you, pushing himself deep inside both of your mouths.

"Hang on just a little longer, Mouse." Kid commands you, licking along your neck before he sucks hard on the tender flesh, biting it enough it turns your pleasurable gasp into a small grunt of pain.

He leans back, and you see the terrible glint in his eye as he pulls a vibrating wand from under the bench. He pushes your legs wide and reaches around your thigh with the wand, pressing it against your clit as he starts to move inside you again.

"Kid... Kid, that's gonna, hngh," you struggle weakly, but the look on Kid's face assures you that if you want this to stop, you'd have to say the magic word and stop the entire thing. And you can't bring yourself to do that, as exhausted as you are, you're also terribly curious.

"Oh it's gonna something alright," he promises you, and flicks the switch that brings the vibrator roaring into high gear against your throbbing clit.

Your body tenses despite your exhausted state, and pleasure tears through you as you clamp down on Kid's cock. There's a grunt of appreciation from him and he begins to move, long deep thrusts that get faster and faster until he's pounding into you just slow enough to keep the vibrator in place.

"Mm, fuck, Mouse. I can barely feel the vibrator over your pussy twitching against me like that." Kid purrs, thrusting into you with more force, his hips pushing deep into your thighs with each movement.

You can't manage to form any words, and nothing but a mess of gasps and half-mumbled curses of pleasure manage to dribble from your mouth. The pleasure pools for a third time, and the combination of the vibrator and Kid's skills rip another orgasm from you. The air freezes in your lungs as your entire body tightens, you can feel Kid's rhythm fall apart as he twitches deep inside you.

After a long few seconds you're able to suck in a breath as your body's muscle release from the bone-deep pleasure that has white spots dancing in your vision. You're barely aware of Kid pulling out of you, the empty feeling left behind isn't so rude when your mind's lost in a fog.

As you are on the edges of consciousness and bliss, Kid carefully releases your wrists and slowly moves your body. He cradles you against his bare chest, kissing your forehead with a gentleness no one else knows he's capable of, and carries you out of the workshop and into the spare room he added to the shop some years ago.

He gets you cleaned up, massaging your sore muscles and kissing you softly, letting you nuzzle into him as you start to come back down from your pleasure. Your shaky, tired, spent body is wrapped in an oversized towel, and you're cradled into Eustass Kid's lap as he sits on the bed, his back against the wall.

He kisses your damp locks lovingly, hugging your warm body to his chest. You can feel the low rumbles of contentment humming through his chest, and you wiggle an arm free from your towel burrito to run your fingers over his chest. You smile up at him as he looks down at you, there's sense and light in your eyes, as you're finally becoming fully aware of things around you again.

"How're you feeling?" He asks, a cocksure grin on his face.

"Deeply satisfied, and deeply exhausted," you admit with a smile, leaning into him and letting yourself sink into the comfortable after care.

"I build good toys," he says, and you agree with a soft giggle as he nips at your ear. His forehead nuzzles into your hair and he whispers into your ear. "I love you, (Y/N)."

This kind and gentle Eustass Kid was a side of him you got to keep all to yourself. "I love you too, Kid." You assure him, turning toward him and sharing a warm kiss before you lean back against his chest. Neither of you were going anywhere anytime soon, and these quiet moments were among some of your favorite.

[puppitproductions]

Working on a red wolf head with a hinged jaw, suitable for Yo-SD sized ball jointed dolls.

Edit: ID in alt text

[joelsdagger]

intermission || joel miller x f!reader

shout out to @dinandwhiskey for feeding into my delusions for this one and to @skrunkly-scrimblo for the beta <33

pairing: daddy dom!joel miller x f!reader summary: movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan, or joel fucks your mouth while you’re sleeping. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rating: 18+ MDNI warnings: [No Outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 24, joel is late 50’s] , dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, somnophilia [no explicit consent in this fic but she’s cool with it, therefore dubcon], oral [m receiving], face fucking, deepthroating, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names [little bug, little angel, baby, the works lol], references to tummy bulge, references to unprotected p in v sex, mentions of creampies, cum eating, reader can be carried [tho in my mind joel is huuuuuge so size kink as well], Joel’s POV. word count: 2.3k a/n: happy father’s day (iykyk) :3

series masterlist | masterlist | ao3 | playlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

I don’t fall asleep during movies, daddy, you had sassed him. 

Whatever you say, little bug. 

That was an hour ago and now you’re resting your pretty little head against his belly, your hand tucked beneath your head. You look so peaceful. So pretty. So soft. So – pliant. 

He really shouldn’t. 

But then your hand slips from under your head and falls to rest a hair's breadth away from his clothed cock, it jumps in his sweats. You’ve practically pavloved him to react like that with just a mere graze of your fingertips. 

“You got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl, drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy over here,” his voice a low rasp, reaching for your fingers and gently pulling them from his lap, squeezing your fingertips twice before resting them atop his thigh. 

You’re completely limp, deep in your sleep and Joel is unable to control himself.

He snatches up the remote, hastily turns down the TV, shoves his gray sweats down to the middle of his thighs and frees his semi-hard cock. He wraps a hand around the base, gives it a firm tug, and rests the tip of his length on your lips.

He stills and swallows hard. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this, it feels selfish to take what he’s been desperately wanting from you — for the better part of an hour — when you’re unable to respond. He should wake you. 

But then, almost as if you’ve made the decision for him; your lips part and a soft moan releases from you, mmm, daddy. His cock twitches against your lips, opaque droplets already gathering at the slit. Your lips stay parted and the glistening tip slips between your plush lips. 

“Fuck– ” He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head, hand flying up to the back of yours, cradling your skull in an attempt to anchor himself as he slowly rolls his hips up into you. He stiffens fully at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. It feels fucking incredible. 

How the hell did he get here? A rare lazy sunday night with you on his lap, taking a man almost three times your age in between your lips, letting him use you in your sleep. 

He remembers first laying eyes on you. You showed up on his porch one night, not too long ago, with sparkling eyes and a shy smile on your face. He didn’t even hear what you had said to him, too distracted by the soft skin of your exposed thighs just below the hem of your pale pink dress — barely covering the plump shape of your ass — and the flow of your hair as a wave of muggy summer heat swept past. He thinks it was something about the leftover cake from your birthday. He only guessed that from the sad, fat square slice of funfetti birthday cake held up in a flimsy paper plate before him, the letters jaggedly cut down the middle of the celebratory phrase.

Joel is a strong man; at least that’s what he tells himself. He knew you were too young for him. The split letters that barely spelled out twenty-four on your birthday cake told him as much. Trouble, he’d muttered. He still mumbles that occasionally when you push his buttons, though hours later, he often finds himself burying his length deep inside of you, tears pricking your eyes while he stretches your needy cunt.

But then you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes and flashed him a big, toothy smile — the prettiest little thing he’s seen in all his long, hard years — and he cracked; his cement walls came crumbling down. He brought you inside his home, into his too-small bed, and fucked you until you cried, until you asked him for a break only to climb on top of him minutes later, begging him to feed you his cock again.

His cock pulses on your tongue at the memory, your voice high-pitched as you cried, Daddy, please, I want it. And Joel couldn’t resist his special girl. How could he? When you softly gasped into his mouth as he pushed the blunt head of his cock past your puffy folds — nuzzling in and making a home for himself — where he belongs. Your warm, drooling cunt sucking him in to the hilt, sheathing the entirety of his hard length inside your messy little pussy. 

Joel is a strong man, but not when it comes to you. 

Please, please, I need to feel it inside me. All the way up here, daddy, you whined, one hand gliding up your belly, the other fisting the fabric of your lace-trimmed dress. He just couldn’t resist you. So he fucked you and fucked you deep, until he was in the soft pouch of your tummy and poking through from the other side, just as you had asked of him. He fucked you full of his spend, until your poor, tiny hole couldn’t take any more of his cum. 

He’d damn himself to hell before he’d refuse you. He only hopes you don’t deny him if you wake. 

His deft, roughened fingers brush the hair out of your face before settling his hand back on your head. He sits up and leans over; marveling at the stretch of your lips around him, sweat beginning to pool at the nape of his neck and the corners of his temples. 

He feels filthy. A dirty old man. He’s never taken you like this before. But it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s only missing those pretty sounds you make —

You stir and let out a soft moan around him. Sweet Jesus, there you go. Your head dips lower down his belly, nestling more of his length into your hot mouth. Atta fuckin’ girl. Let me in, baby. Open up real big for daddy. 

“Such a naughty little thing, lettin’ me fuck your throat while you’re sleepin’, just needed to be full o’me huh?” He whispers softly, and at that, you hum. Joel can’t help when he bucks up into your mouth in response, saliva pouring past your lips and onto his graying pubic hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you like gettin’ daddy all messy? Like chokin’ on daddy’s big cock?” He taunts, a grin tugging on his face. 

Once again, as if you can hear him, you hum. 

You’re so damn responsive. Or maybe you just like having his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck, yeah, you do,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. His free hand glides down to the swell of your ass — the softest skin he thinks he’s ever felt — and hikes up the frilly hem of those pink sleep shorts that he likes a little too much — the ones speckled with tiny red hearts — over one cheek, grabs a handful of your plush flesh, and squeezes. You moan, and Joel feels your tongue twitch, feather-like, beneath the heavy weight of his cock, then pressing up against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. He bites down on his lip to muffle the loud moan that sneaks past his lips, the back of his head hitting the couch behind him. 

“Goddamnit, takin’ me so damn well, even in your sleep, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he babbles, his eyes shut tight as he revels in the feeling of himself in your mouth, the action movie silently playing on the screen flashes against his eyelids, measured shaky breaths escaping him. The strong hand on your head easing you lower and lower to take more of him, your lips now grazing the drool drenched hair at his base.  

Your mouth feels like velvet around him — warm and soft and so perfect that his hips cant upwards unconsciously, the pace of his thrusts increasing. He’s losing himself in the haze of his fast-approaching release, a deep-seated tension building in his gut, teetering on the edge until—

You splutter around him and Joel’s head snaps up to peer down at you, your eyelids flutter open against the soft glow of the television.

“Shit, baby. ‘M sorry,” he rasps and quickly retracts his hand from your head. Yet, you don’t pull yourself off him, instead you curl your weak fingers into his thigh. You don’t want him to stop. 

“You want me to keep going?” He asks gruffly, he knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times since you have met. He’s trained you well. Yet, he needs to be certain he’s not reaching your limit. 

You drag your lips off his cock, an obscene wet slurping sound fills the too still air, letting off him with a pop and maneuvering yourself to sit up on your knees. “Yes, please daddy,” your voice still thick with sleep, peering up at him with an innocence to your needy gaze; a mixture of drool and precum coating your pouty lips. 

“Christ,” he mutters, under his breath. Such a pretty fuckin’ sight. One he reckons he’ll never get tired of seeing. He can’t deny you. Not when you look at him like that. 

“Okay, baby, here,” he murmurs, his hand retakes its place on the back of your head, guiding you toward his aching cock, your lips latch onto the fat head — all angry and red — and he inhales a shuddery breath as he watches your face contort at the stretch of him in your mouth. 

Your tongue flattens underneath him and he presses himself deeper into your willing mouth, filling you up and messaging the walls of your throat with the wide head of his cock. 

His grip in your hair tightens and a low groan rumbles in his throat, “There you go, baby, hold still.”  

Fucking hell. He could keep you here forever. 

“So goddamn pretty like this, baby,” Joel grits, “Love havin’ your mouth stuffed full o’ my cock, huh?” 

You make a low muffled sound around the length of his cock.

“S’right, you do,” he answers for you.  

His free hand trails down the length of your body, instinctively gripping the meat of your ass, dull fingernails digging into your skin, just barely grazing your puckered hole. You whine around him, the vibrations from your throat has him flexing his fingers your hair in response, and with shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, he fucks himself into your mouth. 

Fresh tears begin to sprout in your eyes as you gulp hard, your throat constricting around him. Joel feels his throbbing tip choked tight at the small opening at the back of your throat. The warm walls of your throat so tight — so good for him — the muscles in his belly tighten, and the hand on your ass is quick to join the other on your head, gripping your skull. “Shit— that’s it, angel. M’comin’.” His dick pulsates on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your throat. His hand holds you there, firmly pressing your mouth flush to his spit-smeared balls. He feels you swallow around him again, and he whines quietly. The muscles in his jaw go slack, and his head falls back onto the couch while he lazily thrusts upwards, his leaking head bruising the back of your throat as he empties the last of himself into your mouth and filling your belly, his chest heaving from exertion.

He lifts his head when he feels you pull off him; you cough softly against him, the warmth of your breath brushes against his now softening cock, and his hooded gaze meets the sight of a thin string of saliva and cum dribbling from your wet, puffy lips, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks. “Oh, c’mere, little bug, lemme see.” 

Just as he taught you, you plant a small, wet kiss on each of his heavy balls. Joel sighs through his nostrils. Fuck. What did he do to deserve you? You’re too good for him. You scoot over to sit up in his lap. Joel feels the slick between your legs through your tiny shorts when you press against his soft cock. He lets out a little groan; if he hadn’t just come, he’d be getting hard at the sensation.

His hand reaches to grip your jaw, angling your face up as you present him with your open mouth, the corners of his lips twitch at the sight of the walls of your little throat; empty, swollen, and used. 

“My filthy girl, you did so good f’me,” he cooes, coaxing away your tears and swiping your glistening lips clean. He pushes the pad of his thumb — covered in slobber and cum — into your mouth and presses it onto your tongue. Your wet eyes lock with his as you enthusiastically suck his thumb clean. 

Man alive. Maybe you’ll damn him to hell.

You release his thumb and giggle, biting your lip and smiling up at him dreamily. “Thank you, daddy, I liked it,” you rasp quietly. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, both of his hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. 

Your wide, glassy eyes meet his gaze, “I like when you do things that make you feel good, it makes me feel good,” your voice hoarse and small, fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Well – you always make daddy feel good, little angel,” he praises, leaning forward to lay a long kiss to your forehead that elicits a breathy sigh from you, your eyelids fluttering closed. 

“You tired, baby?” He whispers, tucking your soft hair behind your ear, fingers stroking down your hair and twirling the end of the gathered strands between his fingers.   

You yawn quietly and give him a slow, small nod, a sleepy smile to your face as you sink down in his lap, your weeping cunt throbbing against him. He’ll play with your perfect little pussy in the morning. Maybe your other little hole too. 

He chuckles at that. “Alright, little bug...” he starts, tucking his soft cock back into his sweats. He scoops you up into his arms; his weak, achy knees pop, and a low grunt spills from him as he stands, “Bedtime.”

[zorilleerrant]

Hungry Like The Wolf

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Effie wishes she’d had this existential crisis just a titch sooner. It wasn’t until someone commented on the full moon that she realized, ha, no, it wasn’t quite full. But that means today – or maybe tomorrow, obviously none of her devices work – she’s going to have a problem she has no way of dealing with. Even if there are wolf packs here, they’d never let an outsider in, and anyway looking for them might get her locked up or whatever it is they do.

With a planned trip, it would’ve been fine. With a planned trip, she would’ve packed medication and slept through the change, but who knows if any of those have been invented yet? Effie’s not even sure sleeping pills have been invented, and also she’d probably make herself sick trying to calculate safe dosage without the pack pharmacist.

There are old ways of doing things, probably.

Effie sort of wishes now that she’d been into those kind of books, the historical horror that exaggerated her condition or even the stuff that romanticized it, but half of it made her throw the book across the room and the other half made her sick to her stomach, so she never read any. And now all the – probably apocryphal – tips and tricks in them aren’t even there to give her a starting point about what the fuck to do.

There’s nothing there even in the scenes in movies that make you roll your eyes so hard to instigate a migraine, because like. It’s one thing to fairly well trust someone – someone who’s openly a witch at least, if no one else – but it’s different telling someone you’re a werewolf versus, you know, you’re about to be a werewolf in a couple of hours and you’re liable to panic and bite someone because none of your pack is here.

It would’ve been nice to stay home longer, that’s all. It would’ve been nicer for Effie to, sort of, bond with the rest of these idiots and maybe start to consider them something. They’re bound together by magic, but if that were enough, no one would ever have problems integrating into a pack, and you can see how well that logic works out. It’s hard for Effie to convince herself they’re family, but maybe not impossible, right?

If Effie can convince herself they’re family sometime in the next two and a half hours, she won’t even need to come up with a plan. It’ll be fine.

Effie sits cross-legged, trying to meditate, or at least get into a calmer headspace, and see if she can’t readjust her worldview. The power of positive thinking and all that. Her therapist keeps telling her if she just repeats ideas to herself enough she can trick herself into believing them, so then the only question is whether two hours is enough hours.

She gives it a few minutes, but Effie’s pretty sure it’s not.

The second question is, of course, whether any of the bedrooms have locks. If she can lock herself inside with some, like, maybe soothing scented candles or something? They’ve probably got soothing scented candles because Effie’s pretty sure those were invented hundreds of thousands of years ago at the dawn of man or whatever. People have been collecting things that smell nice forever and of course they had fire, that’s sort of the point of it all. So maybe she should run to the store instead?

Except she’d be in a little bit of a rush and it occurs to Effie that she doesn’t actually know if that’s the kind of store people keep tabs on in case it’s full of witches. Or whether it’s actually full of witches, some of whom may be arrayed against her or others who might try to help and turn this into even more of a shitshow than it already is, and also the kids are fighting again and she doesn’t know why someone had to invite them.

To be fair, she doesn’t know why anyone had to invite her, either. She’d be doing a lot better in her own time, and especially in her own house, at her time of the month, and she doesn’t even have a single chewtoy, or anything raggedy enough to be one. They’re not going to sacrifice their already meager supplies just because she has a craving. Even if they were all lyco friendly it doesn’t seem like that would go down well.

Anyway, Effie really hopes that if they need the werewolf bit they’d hurry up and tell her what to be a werewolf at, because waiting is killing her.

Not literally.

Hopefully not literally?

It’s worth it, maybe, to see if anyone happens to have some meds on them. Or like, you know, knows the right dosages for whatever you can mix, or has some kind of natural remedy or something. That’s probably something that exists, or close enough they can fudge it.

Or else should she call on her patron? That’s probably not going to work because of the time differential and all, or it would be so expensive she’d never pay it back off. She’d be stuck in hell. Maybe Effie should go to hell? Like, just overnight, because probably they’ve got a lot of things to chew on there, and she doesn’t think she could bite a demon if they were on fire.

She looks up at the sky. She can feel the moon there, ready to pop out and judge her for her lack of preparation skills. She wishes it would stop looking. Good thing, though, because she has to go back inside anyway! She’d definitely get caught out here.

Sighing, Effie shoves herself to her feet, dusts herself off, and heads inside. It’s not like there’s any real alternative. She’s going to have to tell at least someone. So it’s better, right? To tell them when they at least have a little time to brainstorm.

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | forest // sixty

| @izayoichan

next / previous / beginning

INDRYR: I’m surprised you came to me. KYRIE: Where else would I go? If I show up in the House of Healing, it’ll be signing my death warrant, just in another manner. I’ll stick to the death I chose, thanks very much. At least this way is quieter. INDRYR: I’d think you’d have asked Her Lady of Light. Seems to me you two get on more than well enough. KYRIE: …Mm. INDRYR: Was I mistaken? KYRIE: Not exactly. INDRYR: Suppose you’ve had a falling out? KYRIE: sighs I trust Eve, and respect her magic absolutely. But maybe for the same reason… I’d rather not have to sit there looking like a pitied dog. INDRYR: Ah. Now it makes sense. She is quite sentimental. KYRIE: That’s not to say you aren’t, just… INDRYR: Oh, I more than understand I can seem a bit callous. Such is the price of honesty, I suppose. But then, anything is worth being honest about. I simply prefer the facts of the matter. Far be it from to tell you your decision was worthy or otherwise. I could call you a fool, but it is really a matter of perspective, isn’t it? It’s not my place to judge the worth of your life or anyone else’s. My business is my decisions and your business is yours. I can respect your pragmatism and your understanding of basic math. The one for the many, yes? Tale as old as time. Though, I do think it is a pity that anyone should have to suffer the consequence; The cold reality of life Is that things are hardly ever fair. KYRIE: You and Lord Tev’us are similar in this aspect. Though I admit to finding one more palatable than the other. Still, it’s refreshing not to have to think very hard about whether I regret something or not. INDRYR: And do you? Regret it? KYRIE: No. INDRYR: Then you needn’t let anyone’s opinions— pity or otherwise— sway your heart. Here, drink this. INDRYR: It’ll be worse before it gets better. But you know I cannot give you long. KYRIE: Just long enough to finish out the trials. INDRYR: Is that really so important to you? KYRIE: I’ve invested my life into it, I ought to see the results, no? INDRYR: Fair point.

[bulbagarden]

we're running a shipping one-shot fanfiction contest over on our forums! signups end on march 31, and we have quite a few categories for entrants to be winners in -- both romantic and platonic ships are accepted! winners get free reviews and possibly other prizes, and go in our writers' workshop hall of fame!! i (lisia) am helping run the event, and blanc and i are going to try and participate, so come join us if you'd like...! hope to see you there o7