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bobbile-blog · 4 months

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Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.

I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.

So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.

Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.

Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.

But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.

This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it”.

But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.

I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.

Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.

#arknights #arknights thoughts #hortus de escapismo #laterano #fiametta #executor arknights #I deadass had to ask folks to proofread this one #to make sure I didn’t sound like I didn’t sound off my rocker #also don’t mind my random Harry Potter slander that’s an entirely different rant

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it-happened-one-fic · 5 months

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His Fake Date - Ruggie

Author Notes: I honestly hold the idea of Ruggie tricking himself into feelings via the whole fake dating scenario dear to me. It's probably why the only two fics I've written for Ruggie (this one and the Strictly NRC Dancing one) make use of this trope. And, now that I'm thinking about it, I should write more for Ruggie. With that said, this fic doesn't have a song inspiration and, as per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ romantic/ slight pining

Word count: 1080

Ruggie had an understanding with you. You and him were the two poorest students at NRC and that was why the two of you had formed a sort of odd duo.

And it had all started with a simplistic bargain that Ruggie himself had come up with.

Every time Sam’s offered a couple’s deal, the two of you would go and hit up his store as a fake couple.

True, it was a lie, but that hardly bothered Ruggie. After all, if Sam was going to have that sort of unfair sale at school filled to the brim with terminal bachelors and minimal couples, then Ruggie didn’t see how a little deceit could truly be viewed as wrong.

And then, lo and behold, Azul got the same sales idea. A couple deal. So Ruggie could see only one reasonable course of action. Collect his fake significant other and have a nice meal for their fake date.

After all, it was your five-month anniversary.

The trickiest part of this whole scheme was actually selling the couple's gimmick. Your first run-through had been a disaster from start to finish, and you’d barely made it out of Sam’s with the goods.

So your scheme has grown. Convince everyone, yes, everyone, that the two of you were a real couple.

Which was why Ruggie had started swinging by your class bearing random homemade gifts. Then he started studying with you. And then the two of you started having lunch together. And now, at long last, he’d spent almost all of the free time in his day just lounging around Ramshackle dorm, doing nothing more than chatting with you.

The two of you had gone from unlikely partners to fast friends. Now it wasn’t odd for you two to share a single lunch or a book, should you be studying.

You’d come over to Savannaclaw simply to help him out, and he’d sometimes help you out with your dorm’s upkeep.

By now, there was only one person who knew the two of you weren’t the real deal. Leona.

Ruggie didn’t know how he knew, but the eternally smug and sleepy lion beastman had figured out your gig in record time. And yes, he’d mocked it.

He even followed the two of you to Sam’s store when a sale would crop up to watch the two of you try once more to fool the shopkeeper. And though Sam didn’t believe the relationship was genuine, no matter how many sappy nicknames Ruggie sprinkled in, he also couldn’t refute it.

Ruggie assumed that was why Leona followed along. Simply to watch in amusement as Ruggie steamrolled his way into a pretty hefty sale before sauntering out of the store with you on his arm.

But Leona was also the reason Ruggie knew things were getting out of hand.

It had been a seemingly normal day, with you chipping in and helping out with the laundry. You’d both been laughing and folding Leona’s clothes before you had bid both the housewarden and your fake boyfriend a warm farewell.

Ruggie had waved you out with a smile, unaware of any risk, until he turned and spotted Leona grinning all too smugly at him. That was how he knew something was amiss.

And Leona hadn’t made him wait for it. Instead, the smug lion simply reclined back on his bed. Presumably getting ready to take yet another nap, but managing to squeeze in one final amused comment, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I might actually buy you and the herbivore were the real deal now.”

Those words had given Ruggie pause.

No, they’d given him more than a pause. They’d given him a full-on stop that had him having to seek the refuge of his room to think this all out.

You and him…. The real deal?

The young man couldn’t deny that it was a rather nice thought that definitely gave him the warm fuzzies.

But when had it reached this point? When had he gone from totally faking the relationship to possibly having an inkling of a feeling for you? Ruggie could feel the frown decorating his face as he called himself out on his own crap while simultaneously walking back to his room.

Inkling of a feeling? More like an all-out crush on his fake date.

He’d gone from scamming the businessmen around NRC to quite literally scamming himself into feelings. And now he was in deep.

And what was worse was that it had taken Leona pointing it out for him to notice! How long had he been flirting around with you and actually meaning it?

The very thought of calling you ‘Pumpkin’ now was all but mortifying.

A soft knock on his door had him perking up, his ears lifting slightly as he called out, “Yeah?”

His door opened, revealing you standing there with a slightly sheepish smile, “Hey, sorry about this. I totally forgot I was wearing your bandana thingie.”

You held out the yellow fabric with an embarrassed smile that had him grinning slightly because he recalled exactly what had happened. He’d looped it around you while laughing about how he couldn’t let his ‘Pumpkin’ catch cold from the chilly breeze that had been coming in through Leona’s massive window.

A cheesy moment that Ruggie now regretted every second of. And even so, he found himself taking your hands and curling your fingers back over his bandana as you looked up at him wide-eyed.

“Keep it. You’ll get cold on the way home if you don’t, and I’ve got more,” He managed a bright grin despite how horribly mushy he felt as you blinked up at him in silent surprise.

“Are you sure?” A tiny part of him died at your question.

Yes, he was sure. Please don’t question why he was letting you take something of his, which he would normally never do, and please don’t read into it.

But despite panicking internally, Ruggie managed to play it cool. He was a first-rate scammer after all, and that took acting talent.

“Yeah, I’ll just filch another one from Leona’s closet. And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my love get chilled,” He let out a snicker and you smiled. Relaxing immediately as you bought his excuse.

After just another brief moment, you left once more with his scarf in tow, and he let out a sigh.

Falling for his fake date….. Well, it could certainly be worse.

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mrsjellymunson · 6 months

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Happy Halloween, Love ❤️

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

Summary: Joe raids the costume department at work and conspires to make this Halloween your most memorable yet.

WC: ~4.4k

CW: 🔞MDNI!🔞, NSFW, RPF, PWP, smut, porn with a little bit of plot, established relationship, role play, dressing up, slightly dom!JQ, choking (referenced), oral (everyone’s a winner), fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex (always wrap it irl), tiny bit of mutual masturbation, squirting, maybe a touch of overstimulation, Eddie and demons are referenced, pet names (numerous, including references to reader as a pet, minion and servant), no y/n or descriptions of reader’s appearance, demon fucking (sort of). Please lemme know if I’ve missed anything, and don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with real-person fics or any of this content.

A/N: Inspired by the anonymous comment, “It’s as close as we can get to having Joseph Quinn dress up in the Eddie wig and have demon horns”, a scenario which got stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave. This might well be the only RPF I’ll write (they still weird me out a little). I hope this doesn’t put anyone off checking out my Eddie and Steddie stuff 😬 I wrote this fairly quick and it’s not beta-d. It’s also my first time sharing smut, so (constructive) feedback is most welcome!

You knock on the bedroom door gently, having slipped into your new outfit in the bathroom. Halloween season was always fun with your boyfriend Joe, both of you loving to dress up and create spooky scenarios that would inevitably lead to sexy shenanigans. You’d thought you were the only one dressing up tonight, but you were wrong.

Unbeknownst to you, Joe had raided the prop store at the studio he was currently working at, claiming he needed something for a Halloween party, and he had plans...

“Come in, darling.”

You open the bedroom door, stepping in slowly, wanting to tease Joe with a slow reveal of the short, ivory satin robe you had on, something so innocent-looking belying what was underneath.

A deep, velvet-smooth voice greets you, slowly murmuring, “Happy Halloween, my love.”

It’s Joe. Your Joe. Your kind, generous, loving and silly Joe, but there’s something else about him tonight, something you can’t quite place just yet.

He’s surprised you - the bedroom is dark, lit only by a pair of spice-scented red candles and a small, warm lamp. It’s intimate, but also somewhat lair-like, and the ambiance goes really well with the red and black skull-patterned bed linens you’d bought especially for this time of year. You love it.

Your eyes rake over your man, drinking him in. Clothes-wise he’s wearing nothing but a pair of snug black jeans and a studded belt.

Fuck, he looks so hot.

He’s looking down at the floor, hands clasped loosely behind his back, putting his delectable torso on display for you.

In addition, he’s wearing The Wig. That wig.

You’ve role played with this before; he knows how much you love Eddie’s luscious, chestnut locks, and how when he puts on the voice it all combines to rile you up. One time you even got some fake blackwork tattoos and put them on his arms and chest. That was a very fun evening.

But this time there’s more…

Amongst the curls he’s also wearing a pair of long, spiralling, ridged, red and black horns. They’re beautifully detailed. They nestle amongst the soft kinks, and the curls hide the ends of the horns and however they’re attached, making the effect all the more realistic.

God, he looks amazing.

You can’t determine why he’s been looking at the floor since you came in. Is he being bashful? You’re confused, that doesn’t seem to fit the narrative…

Your question is answered when he slowly looks up at you, with a menacing, Kubrick-like stare.

He’s wearing contacts. Not just any contacts, but full-sclera, black contacts, completely obscuring his natural eyes.

You swallow, hard. Your fingers toy with the sides of the slinky robe you’re wearing, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together, trying to provide just a little friction to the area between them. Joe notices.

“Fuck Joe, I mean Eddie. You look-“

He cuts you off.

“There is no Joe here. No Eddie either. Only… your Master.”

You gasp at his voice, how it’s even deeper than usual and slightly menacing. You’ve always been impressed by the way he can control his voice, the timbre, volume, pitch, cadence. You’re momentarily distracted by how you’re not surprised he’s always been in acting work.

“Tell me you’re mine, my loyal minion.”

You’re broken abruptly from your reverie by Joe’s commanding tone, and you willingly play along, knees weakening and a pool of wetness forming surprisingly quickly in your underwear.

“Yes, Master. I’m all yours-”

You gasp as his strong hand reaches forward towards your throat, wrapping loosely around it. Not squeezing (not tonight, anyway), just demonstrating who’s in charge of this scenario.

Joe your Master smiles in that familiar way you know and love, but he keeps the sinister stare, giving everything a much darker edge.

“Well done, my precious. Now, would you like to have some fun with your Master?”

You bring one hand up from your side and gently drag the the tips of your fingernails along the inside of his forearm, a place you know is sensitive.

He breathes in quickly through his nose, trying to stifle a gasp, though you hear it. His grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly, and he tilts his chin up, narrowing his eyes and looking down his nose at you.

You surprise yourself as you reply, “Yes Master, I’m yours to command.”

Ever the consummate professional, none of Joe’s excited internal monologue shows, and he simply looks at you and murmurs, stretching out the syllables,

“Good girl...”

That’s it, you’re gone. He could do almost literally anything to you right now and you wouldn’t stop him. You let out a small whimper.

Even with the dim light and the darkness of his denim, you can see the bulge in your Master’s jeans.

Releasing your throat, he moves his hand to the back of your neck, gripping firmly but not harshly, bending towards you and pulling your face to his. He crashes his lips against yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a passionate, messy kiss, which you eagerly return.

Breaking the kiss, he grins at you again, before removing his hand from your neck, taking a step back and flicking the edge of your robe near your collarbone.

“Take this off.”

You obey, slowly undoing the robe and slipping it off your shoulders. As the fabric slips to the floor and pools at your feet you’re left in nothing but the new set that you bought especially for tonight.

Joe’s eyes caress your form, taking in the sheer, red, rose-patterned lace decorated with tiny bows.

But what’s really catching his eye is the fact that your bra is peek-a-boo style, and the ribbon ties are already undone, your nipples on display.

He hisses an inhale, and runs a thumb pad gently over one of your hardening buds.

“This all for me?”

“Yes, Master, only for you.”

He takes a step towards you again as he glances to your panties.

“Are these…?”

“Crotchless? Yes, Master.”

He lets out an involuntary growl and brings his other hand to your core, pushing one finger between your thighs and swiping its tip through your already-damp folds.

Feeling your wetness he can’t help but drop his head back and moan.

It gives you a perfect view of his gorgeous neck, and you want to lick it, like you have so many times before.

Seeing Joe dressed up like this and regarding you with such obvious hunger leaves your whole body tingling, and the anticipation of more of his touch makes you feel like tinder about to combust.

You need him to have fewer clothes on too.

Biting your lip, you slowly bring a hand up between you and trace your fingertips over his solid torso, tracing shapes on his skin, touching the fine, soft hair and moving down towards his happy trail, finishing at his belt line. As your fingers reach his belt buckle, you ask,

“Please, Master, may I..?”

Your Master drops his hands to his sides and, with a lascivious grin, tongue peeping out at one corner running over his teeth, he gives you a tiny nod.

You undo his belt and jeans, running your hands inside the fabric and around his abdomen until you get to his hips. He’s not wearing anything underneath, just how he knows you like it.

You push the fabric downwards, dropping to your knees as you go, just how you know he likes it.

His cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, fully hard already, and you drool at the sight.

Stepping out of his clothing, he positions himself in front of you, abs tensed and legs slightly apart, looking down at you with those completely black eyes, a curtain of dark curls framing his face.

“What are you gonna do for me, my servant?”

“Whatever you want me to, Master.”

You stick out your tongue as far as you can and languorously lick a broad stripe from his balls up the base and shaft of his cock, past his frenulum and all the way to the tip, where you pause at his slit, swirling your tongue and collecting a bead of precum that’s collected there.

Glancing up again, you notice he’s pursed his lips and his breathing has become uneven, all signs you’ve learnt are indicative of him enjoying what you’re doing.

Lifting both hands you gently grasp his base with one, pulling his tip slightly towards you, and caress his balls with the other, as you open your mouth and slide slowly down his length. Pausing after a couple of inches you return the other way, repeating and going further each time until your lips are touching the fingers you have wrapped around him.

He’s fully panting now, lips parted and brows gently furrowed.

“Fuck, precious, you’re gonna fucking kill me one day.”

Taking this as an indication to continue, you hollow your cheeks and suck, earning you a deep moan from his chest.

You move up and down at a slightly faster pace, sucking and licking, enjoying having your face stuffed full of him, until he’s suddenly grasping your chin and pulling you up towards him. His cock leaves your mouth with a soft pop, and you’re soon standing in front of him, eyes locked. Gruffly, he mutters,

“That’s too good, sweetheart, and I’ve got plans for you. Get on the bed.”

You obey, sitting your bottom on the edge of the bed and shuffling backwards until you’re in the centre, leaning back on your elbows.

He climbs on behind you, and using his hands and his knees he roughly pushes your thighs apart, slotting himself between them.

He bends low towards your centre, inhaling deeply and pausing for a moment, humming and enjoying the scent of your arousal.

At any other time you might be embarrassed, but his behaviour fits so well with the whole demon vibe that you find yourself heating up even more at the action.

He exhales a long, hot breath, which fans over your core, tantalising you further.

Dropping his upper body between your legs, he lets out a series of low growls as he sucks wet, biting kisses up your inner thighs, pausing occasionally to suck hard on the soft flesh. You moan at the sensation, wondering if he’ll leave bruises, excited by the idea that he might.

You use the opportunity to touch the horns for the first time, feeling the details and ridges, enjoying the contrast with the soft, flowing curls.

He eventually reaches your centre, and marvels at the lingerie framing your delicate, glistening folds.

With a gruff, animalistic hum he licks a stripe from your shining hole all the way up to your begging clit. You cry out, the most sensitive part of you finally receiving the attention it’s been craving.

Wasting no more time, he sticks his tongue out as far as it will go and pushes it inside you, moving and licking and devouring you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

You watch him with hooded eyes, trying to sear the image of this demon-god between your legs into your mind, before your arms give out and you flop backwards onto the bed, just about managing to vocalise,

“More, Master. I want more of you.”

He takes the hint, bringing one hand up and pushing two fingers easily inside you, and moving his mouth to lick and suckle at your clit. You moan loudly, pushing your hips down onto the bed and grinding into his hand and face. He moans at this, and the vibrations start to drive you towards your peak.

He chooses this moment to curl his fingers towards your front wall, hitting that spot inside you perfectly, and you begin to see stars. He keeps up his ministrations, your moans eventually turning to wails as he gradually increases the pressure on your clit, and you can hold off no longer. Your vision turns black, your limbs lock, and for a moment you stop breathing, a bubble of euphoria bursting within you as you come undone with a scream.

He reduces the pressure on your clit but doesn’t stop, forcing you to ride out aftershock after aftershock on his face. Eventually he removes his fingers from your swollen cunt, replacing them momentarily with another swipe of his tongue, before pulling off entirely. Looking down at you he lets out a feral growl. Licking his lips, he wipes his chin with the back of his hand and licks it clean, before muttering,

“Fuck, so fucking beautiful…”

As soon as he thinks you can manage, he’s pulling at one hip, assisting more than forcing, as he says, “Turn over, baby, stick that beautiful ass in the air for me.”

You do your best to manoeuvre onto your front, keeping your face and chest on the mattress and putting your knees on the bed, lifting your butt. He kneels behind you, parting your knees a little further, running his hands over the globes of your ass, fully exposed and framed prettily by the red lace.

He lets out another, “SO fucking beautiful”, before slapping a palm hard cross one cheek, making you whimper, immediately moving in to kiss the stinging flesh, laving it with his lips and tongue.

Rising, he notches his tip at your hole, and, remaining in character, murmurs, “I’ve gotta fucking have you, my beautiful little -uh- pet!”

On the last word he sheathes himself fully inside you, no consideration given for the usually slow and gradual way he’d enter you, animal passion taking over and both of you more than ready.

You groan loudly as he bottoms out, adoring the feeling of him filling you up and how he rearranges your insides every time he does.

He moans as he remains seated within you for a few moments, groaning gutturally and gripping your hips harshly.

You don’t have much respite, as after only a moment of acclimation he’s setting a brutal pace, pumping in and out of you with feral force and abandon, wet and breathy sounds filling the room, his cock jolting your insides with every thrust.

He starts to mutter almost unintelligible phrases in his demonic voice, but you make out,

“So fucking perfect, so fucking good for me, taking me like the cockvessel you are, my good little minion, my pet, my beautiful, beautiful pet.”

It’s all so exquisitely overwhelming, and you start wailing into the pillows.

He chooses this moment to slip one hand around to your front, immediately finding your sensitive, sopping wet bud and pressing small, form circles into it.

This brings you almost immediately to another precipice, and you cry out, “Ohgodohgodohgod!”

You can feel yourself clench down on his length, and he growls out,

“Jeezus fucking christ, squeezing me so tight, fuck!”

Euphoria washes over you again, a tingling heat beginning in your pelvis and spreading through your entire body. You go limp, but your Master holds you to him with one strong forearm, fingers continuing to circle your clit until you move and twitch, your body trying to deal with the dissonance of wanting to get away from the overstimulation but chasing the aftershocks.

As he continues to help you ride out your second orgasm he’s desperately trying to stave off his own, and eventually pulls out abruptly, your sweat mingling as he rests his forehead on your ass, breathing deeply.

You whine at the sudden emptiness and loss of contact, but are grateful for the opportunity to slump onto your side, enjoying the potential for a short rest.

He comes to lie behind you (if you’re honest, one of your favourite positions in which to get railed), but you realise something.

“No Master, not like this. There’s no point in you looking like that if I don’t get to enjoy it.”

Growling again (and seeing your logic) he deftly flips you over onto your back, slotting himself between your plush thighs, tip nudging your entrance as he stares into your face.

He moves both of your arms above your head, running his hands up the soft skin of the undersides and holding them there, hands clasping your wrists and pushing them into the mattress.

He seems to consider something for a moment.

“Hmm, I haven’t given these lovely tits nearly enough attention, my love. Especially considering you decorated them so prettily for me.”

That lascivious smirk is back, and with his free hand he opens the slit in the lace on one side and hums as he licks the flat of his wet tongue over one nipple. As he moves away he lets out a sigh through his nose, cooling the flesh delightfully and causing your already hard nipple to peak even more.

He massages each breast with his free hand, but decides that’s not enough, so commands you to, “Keep those there for me, my pet”, letting go of your wrists and starting to use both of his hands on your soft mounds. He’s enjoying pushing his fingers under the holes in the lace, pushing it to the side to expose your soft flesh, squeezing and squashing, playing with the ribbons, pinching your nipples and licking and sucking on your sensitive nubs. You arch your back and moan with delight at the sensations.

Eventually satisfied that he’s given your tits enough attention, he licks a wet stripe all the way from your sternum, up the side of your neck all the way to your jaw, making you shiver in delight and anticipation.

He hovers over you, tips of his curls tickling your forehead. He plunges his tongue inside your mouth again in another passionate kiss, and you can taste your musk and the salt from your own skin combined with the unique taste of him.

He returns his focus to getting himself seated inside of you again. He leans forward, holding your wrists with one hand, with the other lining his member up with your hole as he moves his hips forwards.

He slowly slides into you, filling you up yet again. He fucks you slow but ever so deep, the change of pace allowing you to feel every vein and ridge of him against your sensitive walls. You’re both trembling, all of your nerves alive with sensitivity.

“Like me fucking you like this, my pet? Want your Master to -mmm- make you cum again?”

Though you know without doubt that would be an absolutely delectable option, and a certainty if he was to continue, you decide you want to do something for him now.

“Yes. But I want to be good for you, Master. I want to sit on you, wanna ride you so bad.”

His eyes widen and that signature grin spreads across his face.

“Well, what my pet wants, my pet gets, doesn’t she?”

He slowly pulls out of you and releases your wrists, and in an attempt to conceal his excitement, languidly moves up the bed to lounge on a pile of collected red and black, silk and fur pillows. Abs tensed, knees spread wide and slightly bent, cock in hand and giving every appearance of being cocky and arrogant, he’s the perfect vision of a commanding demon. He’s sitting like he’s on a throne, like he deserves this. It drives you wild.

He lazily tugs at himself as he watches you crawl up the bed towards him, though he furrows his brow slightly as you pause halfway to sit on your heels, knees wide apart, displaying yourself for him.

“What’re you doing, my pet?”

You start touching yourself, parting your folds and sinking a finger easily into your dripping cunt, your free hand coming to massage one nipple.

His eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly, and you see his grip on his dick get tighter. You know he loves to watch.

You mumble, as innocently as you can,

“I couldn’t wait, Master.”

He watches for a few moments, entranced, but then remembers what’s on offer and taps his thigh, raising his voice a little, aggressively muttering,

“Get up here, minion. Obey your Master!”

His domineering tone sends tingles up your spine and to your core, and you instantly comply, clambering the rest of the way up the bed and straddling his hips.

He holds his cock steady underneath you, running it over your slit, the wet noises exciting you even more.

You place your hands onto his shoulders, stabilising yourself. You take another moment to admire his outfit and presence, holding his gaze before starting to sink down onto him.

As you seat yourself into him fully, that delicious stretch and feeling of fullness returns. You take a moment to enjoy it, before starting to move, lifting up, slowly at first and not too far, before lowering yourself back down. He’s at a fantastic angle, and feeling him so far inside you is intense. You whine out,

“Fuck, Master, you’re so deep…”

He bends his legs behind you and plants both feet on the bed, encouraging you to prop yourself against them whenever you need to. He knows you love to lean back, giving him not only a delicious new angle but also an exquisite view of your tits jiggling as you move, and it also gives him purchase to buck his hips and slam into you from below.

He’s full-on panting again, and, huffing, he breathes out,

“That’s my good little pet, fucking me so well. You gonna make us both cum, my sweet little toy?”

Wanting to do a good job, you use your thighs to bounce up and down on him, his cock hitting that spot inside you and rocketing you towards yet another high. He’s grabbing at your tits, your belly, your hips, anywhere he can reach, grumbling and growling and clearly desperate to feel every inch of you.

You need more, and you grab one of his hands and bring it to your front. He immediately begins rubbing his thumb against your clit, and you start to whimper, already close. Before you lose the power of speech he asks,

“Do you trust your Master, sweetheart? Gonna let me try something?”

You trust him implicitly and, although you have no idea what he has in mind, you nod. He moves one hand to your sacrum, stabilising you. The other thumb continues circling your clit, but he pushes the flat of that hand against your belly, like he sometimes does when he wants to feel himself inside of you, except this time there’s more pressure.

You’re rolling your hips against him now, all the different sensations combining to bring you closer to your release. You can hear him panting too, feel him tensing, and you know he’s not far off either. But there seems to be a different kind of pressure building in your abdomen.

You try to say something, but full sentences won’t come out. All you can manage is parts of words, like, “Wait-, no-, someth-, it’s diff-, oh fu-“

Unable to control anything anymore, your release washes over you in a searing wave, but there’s something else too - you feel a hot, wet gush coming from you and soaking his hand, wrist and abdomen.

Unable to process what’s just happened, you simply look at him, open-mouthed but still euphoric.

That’s it for him, he can’t hold off anymore and his release hits him, hard. He pulls your hips down onto him at the same time he slams up into you, face slack and breathing ragged, and you feel his hot, sweet release paint your insides, simultaneously letting out a long, low, broken groan.

Unable to process anything else, his eyes close and his head drops back against the headboard. You get another glimpse of that delicious neck, and run your hands over it and his collarbones as he comes down. He always looks so beautiful like this.

You both need a moment to let your heart rate and breathing come back to some semblance of normal. Evaporating sweat leaves you both with delicate goosebumps on some of your exposed skin, but the change in temperature is welcome.

You’re the first to speak as you look down at his wet belly and ask,

“Uh, Joe. What the fuck was that?”

His face turns slightly pink as, voice back to its normal pitch, he bashfully admits,

“I, um, just wanted to see if I could make you squirt, that’s all.”

He looks a little sheepish as he continues, slightly concerned,

“Was it ok? I mean, did you hate it?”

“God no, it felt… amazing! Just, y’know, maybe warn me next time?”

“Of course my sweet. Anything for my baby.”

He plants some wet kisses across your cheeks.

As if wanting to illustrate how much he enjoyed it, he brings his wet hand up to his mouth, sucks his fingers and thumb, and slowly shakes his head in delight as he adds,

“Mmm-mm, it was really fucking hot though!”

You slap his chest playfully, rolling off him to settle in the crook of his arm, your head against his chest, running a hand up and down it.

Ever the considerate lover, after a few moments he inquires,

“How was it overall, baby? Did you enjoy it?”

Full of endorphins and the love of your man, you gush,

“Fuck yes, Joe, it was incredible.” As you toy with some of the ends of the wig, you add, “Thank you so much for doing this for me. For us.”

He replies, “Oh love, it was, and I mean this quite literally, my absolute pleasure. I’m such a fucking lucky bastard.”

You both giggle a little at this. Joe delicately removes the horns and wig with his free hand, laying them reverently on your bedside table so as not to tangle or damage them, another testament to his devotion to his craft, and you snuggle into each other, continuing to murmur sweet nothings and enjoying the afterglow.

After a few minutes Joe admits, “Sorry, I’ve got to take these bloody things out babe, they’re really sodding uncomfortable.”

You both laugh again, as he rises from your shared bed and makes his way to your en suite to remove the contacts, cleaning himself off and returning with a warm washcloth for you, which you take gratefully. As you clean up he picks up the horns, examining them and twisting his fingers around what you now see is a sturdy headband.

He takes the washcloth from you, returning it to the bathroom. As he comes to sit by you on the bed once more, you spy a small smirk on his lips. You know that look, devious yet playful. He’s got some kind of plan.

“What is it, my treasure?”, you goad, using your fingertips to gently tickle his happy trail and tease at his exposed belly.

He replies,

“I was just thinking, maybe next time, you could wear the horns…?”

Thanks so much for reading!

Comments and reblogs make my world spin, please let me know what you think!

#probs my only RPF #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn smut #RPF #Joseph Quinn fic #stranger things #Joseph Quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #role play smut #slight dom!joseph quinn #dressing up smut #halloween smut #halloween fic #demon fucking #demonfucking #mrsjellymunson gets the horn

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brucewaynehater101 · 9 hours

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I know there’s a bunch of stuff about Bruce being oblivious about Tim being his parent. I want to see the moment of dawning realization. (This might have been addressed.) I don’t know if it’s a slip of the tongue where he calls Tim “Dad” or someone in the know casually asking Bruce about his parent (referring to Tim and maybe even Bruce answering without thinking about it and then realizing what he said). I want to know if Bruce freaks and tries to establish himself as the parent, only for it to backfire horribly, or if he makes a family tree and stares at it until he starts to have those optical illusions behind his eyes that you get when you look at things too long.

In the Tim is Bruce's parent AU, there is a semi-established point where Bruce finds out. It's after the BruceQuest. I'll go more in depth below, but I wanted to acknowledge that I'm totally chill if people utilize any of the ideas for their own fanwork (and thus have a different "discovery" method). Feel free to write or draw about whatever scenario inspires you most.

Anyways, the semi-established one already cooked up occurs because Tim has a famous reddit account. From years of receiving and then finally giving advice to other parents, he's established himself on a few parenting threads. His account has become something of a legend, especially for his advice with superpowered kids. He hasn't asked for advice for a few years and mainly just helps other parents out. From his past requests and his more recent advice giving, everyone knows that the kid he is raising is quite the handful. The kid sneaks out, gets hurt often, doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, destroys things when mad, screams, pushes away others, and isolates. The legend account states that they adopted their kid and, after establishing rules and open communication, have been doing much better with the extremely traumatized child.

Bruce, who's returned from the timestream and realized how important family is (and how much of a lacking dad he's been), goes to reddit for advice. He finds this really famous account with an extremely traumatized kid and realizes a lot of the advice (and perspective of where the kid is coming from) is helpful to Bruce's relationship with his own kids. Tim and Bruce befriend each other unknowingly until Bruce asks for advice that is pretty similar to Tim's siblings.

Tim suggests Bruce implement specific advice to deduce that Bruce is the account he's befriended.

Tim has a mental breakdown for a bit cause of that.

Bruce notices that his online friend is being distant and becomes a bit sad. He's suspicious, but he's trying to respect boundaries now. Besides, this account is at least five years old (Tim is eighteen now and started when he was thirteen).

I don't have quite the method of discovery set, but Bruce finds out both that it's Tim's account and that the "kid" is actually Bruce (although feel free to add misunderstanding shenanigans and angst where Bruce thinks Tim's been hiding his kid from him for that long).

Bruce, understandably, does not take this well. A child should not parent an adult. The fact that Tim did is a failing on Bruce's part. Bruce tries to correct this by suddenly being a parent to Tim (and ignoring some of the advice/habits Bruce has picked up from Tim). This is frustrating for both parties. Tim is an adult and has always been allergic to parenting/authority. He would rather have a fake uncle than a parent who tells him what to do (I know this isn't the actual reason for the fake uncle). Bruce doesn't know how to parent a child like Tim either.

Suffice to say, their relationship falls to part for a bit while they both try to work through the new dynamics and emotions. Tim is trying really hard to let Bruce be a parent to Tim, but it's just not their relationship. Tim has always been the parent. It feels condescending, belittling, and restrictive.

The entire time Bruce is trying to change their dynamics, he's getting the sense that Tim is only letting him do this in the way that a father let's their kid make mistakes or decisions so that they learn a lesson or practice. It doesn't feel genuine.

Eventually, they manage to figure out the new limits of their relationship and new boundaries. Bruce will always be Tim's child, but Bruce doesn't have to acknowledge Tim as his dad. He never did before.

But, yes. Bruce does spend many days after the realization blankly staring in space as his entire worldview shifts, and he goes over every interaction he's ever had with Tim

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #bruce wayne #dc au #the parentification of tim drake

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urfriendlywriter · 8 months

Text

Horror/Eerie st0ry prompts:

(feel free to use<3 tag me when yall writeee )

"[name], w-why is there blood on your face-"

hyperventilating because your feet just touched blood but there's no body.

"it-it's--fuck, it just moved-"

"stop breathing at my ear, [name] --" and turning around to find nobody beside you.

looking at the mirror but the reflection isn't. looking. at. you.

"we need to get out, this is--a bad idea!"

being stuck in a nightmare.

"don't look back, please, i b-beg you, 'name', don't!"

"look at me-no! hey, no, don't, just focus on me, okay? okay, u got this!"

talking to a person and suddenly they turn weird-their face, and voice changes. their eyes turn white.

learning about whatever that is haunting you

"Do you know (an item that you found) belongs to?" and their face go white. "how. did you. find this."

"we need to run, you moron!"

lights flickering so hard

hallucinating shadowy figures

having your actions controlled by a shadow figure that's moving right outside your room

finding dark bruises all over your body you have no recollection of getting (ok but whys this creepy as fck)

having all things shake violently, fall and break

that gut feeling something is following you (if ure that mc, you'll def go investigating what it is. which DEF WILL GET YO ASS IN TROUBLE)

^ or that it might be progressively getting darker as you walk down a road where not a single life is seen

blacking out and waking up somewhere else

if you lift your head up and acknowledge it's presence-then you're done.

you blink once it's there. you blink again it's not but when you blink once again, it's on top of you, choking you.

"i shouldn't die, damn, i haven't even had my first kiss yet TT " (the comedic relief friend in horror stories lmao)

"are you haunted ?! sigh. do i need to save you? " "if you're not gonna piss your pants, yes please."

"if it ever comes between you and me-" "I'm-" "choose you." "obviously choosing you." "no. no! you are choosing you or i am going in there without you. i don't need to lose you too. understood?" ".... okay."

crying out loud, heaving and shuddering but nobody can see you breaking down

having blood smeared all over you

having to watch yourself slowly loose your identity and go paranoid

not being able to be alone anymore.

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kocherry · 1 year

Text

❅ ~ Hellfire ~ ❅

Yandere Capitano x Nun!Reader

Hello everyone this is a songfic base on the song “Hellfire” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The yandere aspect is what makes this fic different version from the original Nun!Reader fics ♡

I hope you guys enjoy this cuz I really went down the drain for the Capitano Agenda mainly because of how @jessamine-rose writes Capitano and it inspired me to do a yandere fic about him as well sksksksksk

Sypnosis: Capitano sees himself above the trivial feelings of love and lust. He sings a prayer to the Tsaritsa because of his revolting desire to make you his and his alone. However, the temptation of having you in his arms is quite hard to resist.

Content: Songfic, Yandere Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Religious Sacrilege, Kidnapping, Power Imbalance, Perverse Thoughts, Destructive Acts

< 2.2k words under the cut >

Oh, Archon of mine, you know I am not a righteous man

Of my virtue I am justly your proud soldier

Dear Tsarista, you know I'm so much dignified

But why do I have such a despicable desire for a pure soul

Please tell me Tsaritsa, why do I see her dancing there?

Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?

In the dark night that the fake sky showed, the nation of Mondstadt sleeps quietly along with its visitors from a foreign land. The Fatui soldiers were all asleep and only Capitano remains awake in a place where he stayed in the City of Freedom. He remains to be restless as he stares at the burning hearth while gripping onto his sword’s handle tightly.

The Captain continues to sing a prayer of song to the Cryo Archon, he couldn’t close his eyes and sleep knowing he had much more to fulfill than his mission.

On the day he met you, he couldn’t forget how you stood up against him and demanded for a duel to save those wretched Knights of Favonius from his wrath. Despite being covered by the church’s garments, your body moves swiftly to dodge his attacks. Your face is bear for him to see and he could see your eyes glaring at him… he felt attracted to them and he hated himself for it.

He especially hates the pyro vision that hangs above your bosom. It kept him awake as he could recall how you glow like fire.

A fire that continues to haunt his mind, heart, and soul.

I feel her, I see her

The sun caught in her hair

Is blazing in me out of all control

Capitano whimpers this part of the song as he crosses his arms and held his shaking shoulders with the most hurtful grip. His armored sharp fingers pierced through the armor and scrapes his skin as he continues to stare at the heart which had the fire shape into your figure. And behind the dark void of his helmet, his dark blue eyes stares at you with longing to hold you and yet his gaze also craves to thrust his cock deep within your tight walls.

The way his thoughts spiral between the threads of loving and lusting for you made Capitano shiver once again. How he hate the way he feels because such perverted scenarios he played inside his mind deprecates how he sees himself. As the matter of fact, he began to think on why not let such desires come true?

And maybe it was time for him to finally rest for the night, Capitano knew it was enough prayers to the Tsaritsa as it was undignified of him to let out those words come out. He puts out the fire in the hearth by piercing his sword through the burning wood, he feels frustrated about tonight’s prayers.

After all it was your fault that he feels this way.

Like fire, Hellfire

This fire in my skin

This burning desire

Is turning me to sin

“Capitano, where do you think you’re going?”

The said man stopped in his tracks, he certainly didn’t expect to see you first thing in the morning and he quietly continues his song of prayer inside his mind. Then he turns to see you still covered as the Church of Favonius’ garments, and he wonders how you would look without them.

“Do you wish to accompany me if you are asking such questions?” He asks with a hopeful tone.

The way your eyes flicker in surprise but also has the glint of letting your guard down being deceive by how soft his deep voice had become. “Well, someone has to keep an eye over you Lord Harbinger, what if you harm Mondstadt’s citizens again?” You folded your arms shaping your breasts into the white garment you wear and the pyro vision waves slightly from the action.

By the Archon of Love’s mercy, Capitano is cursed with the bountiful visual he just saw and also blessed that his helmet covered his gaze.

“Very well you may accompany me Sister (Y/N).”

Your name rolls out of his voice as if he’s been practicing saying your name perfectly and he wonders when he could call you without the Nun title.

It's not my fault, I'm not to blame

It is the nun who wields her bow who sent this flame

It's not my fault, if in my Archon's plan

She made the devil so much stronger than a man!

Capitano hoarsely sings the prayer as he falls into his knees holding the sides of his helmet he couldn’t believe what just happened.

You two were just spending another day deep in the ice-cold mountains of Dragonspine to battle the Snowboar King. When victory came due to the tag team you two made, you suddenly hugged him out of the blue out of happiness. Your long wish to venture the mountains and fulfilled your inner child’s ambition to defeat the monster has been done because of the Captain’s help.

That was also the very first time that Capitano saw you smiling and laughing, those images will forever bury inside his mind. Unless he takes you for himself then perhaps every day, he could see you with such happy expressions that he stirs up.

When it was night and the time for you to part ways with him, you express gratitude for letting you fulfill a long wish as a child. You always had been a caged little dove by your family and you told Capitano of your prison despite being a Sister in the Church of Favoinus.

Little did you know that Capitano only wishes for you transfer from your family’s prison to his own.

And when you kissed the side of his helmet that was the last straw as it provokes Capitano’s darkest thoughts in desiring you. He slowly composes himself as he stands up from the ground, he grips the handle of his sword as he slams the door open. The heavy footsteps could be heard in the quiet night but none could ever wake up from this dangerous aura because the Fatui Harbinger only wishes harm to one person in this nation.

Capitano will have you and damn your Archon’s absence because he cannot protect you from him anymore.

Protect me, Tsaritsa

Don't let the nun cast her pyro vision’s spell

Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone

Destroy (Y/N)

And let her taste the fires of hell

Or else let her be mine and mine alone

Capitano’s prayer is full of hypocrisy once again, because it was too late, the Cryo Archon couldn’t erase his feelings. You were to blamed for whatever will happen to you from now on as he continues to take another step towards the place where you sleep. The dark void in his helmet begin to light up as his dark blue eyes glow under the dark night of the fake sky.

And when you woke up, the sun isn’t the one who greeted you.

“Let me go this instant! I don’t wish to harm you… you’re the only friend that I truly had please don’t make me hate you Capitano.”

Your voice is filled with betrayal and fear, yet despite feeling those emotions you still linger to a thread of hope that Capitano will let you go. He admires how that even in this situation you would try to see the goodness in him. A goodness that never existed in the first place anyway, for what does that trait could even contribute to his duties as a Fatui Harbinger?

“Didn’t you wish to be free of your family? Didn’t you desire to get away from Mondstadt because you never felt its freedom? And didn’t you say that you want to be with me?”

Capitano had a tight grip on your arm which made you whimper, if this was a different situation, you would have said yes. The only time you ever feel yourself is when you’re with him but… why does it feel like you were just transferring from one prison to the next. You didn’t understand why Capitano suddenly began to change… or maybe this was always how he felt about you.

The vision that hanged below your neck began to glow, “I’ll never be yours.” You told him as your bow materializes in your hand to fight for your freedom.

And the Captain thinks about how cute you would look utterly defeated under him when you would soon realize that you never had any power to win against him.

Hellfire, Darkfire

Now (Y/N), it's your turn

Choose me or your pyre

Be mine or you will burn

Capitano’s prayer turned its direction towards you.

Blood dripped down from your forehead and cheek, they were cut by the blades of the First of the Fatui Harbingers, the Captain. The duel didn’t last longer than you had anticipated despite having a pyro vision, you could not last against Capitano’s honed skills as a fighter. Though defeated you still push yourself up from the grass field even if you were still kneeling on the ground. You look up to his helmet and found the twisted love in the dark abyss of his mask.

The tip of the Captain’s sword lifted your chin up gently.

“Do you yield?”

The situation is a déjà vu from your first duel with him but there is no honor in this fight, not when Capitano fought to utterly humiliate and incapacitate you. Like before, you never gave a verbal answer and turned the tides against him but now. How could you ever fight back when your pyro vision is out of your reach? It was on his hand threatening to destroy it.

“Please don’t.” You were helpless against him, no one would ever come to your help because he chose a place in Mondstadt where people would avoid going into. “That’s the only beautiful thing that ever happened to me in all my life… please don’t take my vision away.”

With your pride already stepped on, the only thing you could do is beg for his mercy but Capitano is confused why you would beg. The only answer he wants to come out of your mouth is that you would accept to be his and his alone.

Oh, Anemo Archon save her from me

Oh, Cryo Archon have mercy on me

But she will be mine

Or she will burn

Capitano notice how you were confused by his sudden prayer song when you didn’t give him an answer. He wants someone to save you from his monstrosity and yet if you would not love him, you will suffer. And despite having defeated you in a fight, his heart ache when you started to cry about his threats to destroy your vision. You were gripping onto his cape tightly as you continue to beg for him to give your pyro vision back.

He kneels down to your form and place his armored hand over your damp cheek, he slowly wipes your tears away. “Forgive me Sister (Y/N), I am a sinner in the eyes of my god but I would not regret the time we had spent together. I may be a monster in your eyes but in my own, I only see a man who desires your love.” Before you could even oppose he gently lifted up your chin and pressed his thumb against your lips. He wants forget how you made him feel because you would be happier without him but alas...

Capitano will never forget and now he wants to know if your lips would have a sweet taste.

Despite the hypocrisy of his actions and words, he is deceivingly comforting you because no one could get you out of this situation other than Capitano himself.

“I will forcibly take you back with me.” His tone turned dark and the ounce of fear you felt tripled.

“And I will never forgive myself because I will never give you a choice. You sought for freedom but I can never give that to you. So I will only propose to you only this once.” Capitano gently lay you to sit on the ground so it will be him to be the one kneeling now with one knee on the scorched grass field.

He then pierces his sword to the ground, he holds out his hand asking you to hold him, you took it of course out of fear. When you did hold his large armored hand, he was trembling despite the fact you could see how utterly composed he is for someone who had put you in this situation.

“Come with me, I wish not to dishonor your virtue by having only to defeat you in a duel.”

Never had you hear him so soft and gentle yet his tone full of desperation and his words were horrifying.

“Marry me (Y/N), and I promise you will not be caged like a bird. I will let you fly on the condition you will have me at your side at all times.”

Tears had fell from your eyes because you knew that your choice will be the one that will give Capitano the satisfaction of his proposal that is more-like a demand. “My answer is yes… I will marry you…” You didn’t voice out that you were just afraid to reject him.

And with your acceptance Capitano thanks the Cryo Archon for his answered prayer but most of all he dedictated his final ode to you.

Like fire, Hellfire, Darkfire… (Y/N) you are mine and mine alone.

~ End

A/N: Also if you guys haven't read the Nun!Reader series, some of the scenes there are parallel to the events that happened there :>

#capitano #il capitano #capitano x reader #il capitano x reader #capitano x nun!reader #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers #fatui harbinger x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #the capitano agenda #fem reader

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yesimwriting · 2 years

Note

For some reason I came up with a fake scenario where Billy and Stu sneak up to Y/n's window and they open it and all they hear is music blasting through the house. They sneak downstairs confused and ya wanna know what they see? 🤣 Idk why, but I imagined Y/n just bustin it down with a bottle of vodka in her hand and Randy smoking a blunt on the couch and giggling to himself 💀🤣🤣 and Billy and Stu are so jealous cause Y/n hasn't been answering any calls and here she is, basically throwing it back in front of Randy 😭😭🤣 and dancing her little heart out.

disclaimer: if my writing is bad pls forgive me i just woke up from a drunk nap, violently hungover, there's just something about drinking in a frat that makes the alcohol hurt u more :,) pray for me

this scenario is so good tho?? as someone who is the drinking while others get high friend, i feel represented lmao (my lungs are naturally trash, they do not need the excuse to be worse!!)

also the implications? I love, like Billy and Stu casually hanging out in Y/n's house, Y/n and Randy being besties, jealousy? love!! that inspired a little drabble :))

----

Twice. Billy had called you twice. Once while waiting for Stu to come by and one more time with Stu right next to him. The long ringing rubbed them both the wrong way. That familiar pinch of panic that Billy only ever felt when it comes to you quickly struck him in the chest.

His mom had pulled away slowly at first, too, until she left completely. His hands pulled into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. Billy was so blinded that Stu, who was dealing with one too many flashbacks of his parents ignoring his calls when he was younger, had to be the voice of reason. If our babydoll thinks she’s too busy for us, we’ll make ourselves too busy for her.

So they both spent a few hours with their girlfriends. It worked out well, Sidney and Tatum couldn’t begin to see themselves as afterthoughts, and they knew how you’d react. You never said anything when they made a point of spending time with their girlfriends, but they knew that it hurt you. The corner of your mouth would turn downwards, and you’d shrink away for a moment, nervously picking at your nails. Sometimes you’d even become a little snippy, the start of an attitude that they knew how to handle.

It was kind of cute, the way you’d get flustered, trying to convince yourself and them that you’re not jealous.

Billy had a feeling that if he said the right things, pushed you the right way, you’d be needier than usual. He could use that right now, a reminder that you need them. Stu pulled the jealousy card a little more often, but it never grows old. It was the only time he allowed himself to think that maybe he does like seeing you a little upset from time to time if it’s over him.

They called you again once they got to Stu’s house. No answer. Enough was enough.

You were home alone, you mentioned that everyone you lived with would be gone for most of the weekend on Friday during lunch. Billy and Stu had been looking forward to it. With all the murders, you’d be happy for their company...expected or otherwise.

When they get to your house, the first thing they notice is that there’s no light coming in from your bedroom window. That’s not enough reason to panic yet. Sometimes when you’re home alone at night, you like watching movies in the living room.

This is far from the first time the two of them enter your room through your window. The lack of light doesn’t inhibit them, they’ve come here more times than even you know.

Your window is cracked open slightly. Billy’s already planning on teasing you about it. There’s a killer on the loose and you’re alone and you left your window open. With all the scary movies you’ve watched together, you really should know better.

Stu wastes no time. As soon as he’s in your room, he starts looking around, noting the new arrangement of books on your shelf and the oversized shirt tossed over the chair of your desk.

“Wait a second,” Stu mumbles as Billy approaches the door to your bedroom, “She went to the mall with Tatum the other day. Tatum came back with a bag from Victoria’s secret, I want to see if she got anything new.”

Billy sighs, lingering in the space between your bed and your door. The sound of distant music is starting to get to him, ruining the normal feeling he gets from being in your room. The music isn’t exactly shaking the house, but it’s a little louder than the normal volume you set. It’s also not the kind of music you normally listen to, the base is too intense. It reminds him of the music that’s in the background of parties.

“She’s with someone,” Billy mumbles, jaw clenching.

Stu freezes, gripping the handle of your dresser drawer. “It’s almost 10:00 and she’s not with Sidney or Tatum.” The thought that the reason you weren’t answering their calls is because you’re with someone hits him straight in the chest. “If it’s that guy from her English class that’s always looking at her--”

The rational part of Billy’s mind that warns him against giving into his instincts too much is oddly quiet. That’d be too obvious, its whisper is practically drowned out by that damn feeling in his chest. She’s leaving you.

“I know where he lives,” Stu continues, “We can make it look like an accident.”

Billy partially snaps out of it. “You’d gut him, and you know it.” Stu shrugs the dismal, making a mental note to bring it up later. “Let’s just find her.”

Both of them walk down the stairs and into your living room. They round the corner, following the sound of music to your kitchen. You’re there, casually swaying to the music and badly humming along. You seem so content, so fine without them.

Billy holds out a hand, signaling to Stu to not make his presence known yet. They quietly walk further into the room, noticing someone sitting on your couch. Randy. This revelation doesn’t fully ease either of them.

You stumble in an attempt to turn to the music. Your eyes immediately lock on the two lurking trespassers. On a normal night, they might try to look apologetic. Tonight though, they have no reason to feel bad about coming here unannounced. It’s not even controlling of them, they called. Three different times. What were you and Randy doing that was so important you couldn’t even answer the phone to let them know?

Instead of expressing any sort of concern, you laugh, the bottle in your hand swaying. The clear liquid almost sloshes out as you grin. “You guys are here!”

Throwing caution to the wind, you run towards them, pulling Billy and Stu into a quick hug. You nearly trip on your own feet as you pull away, giving Billy an excuse to grab onto your arm.

Randy, rightfully confused, tilts his head back, revealing red tinted eyes. “Shit, you like summoned them.” You scoff energetically at the comment. A peacefully high Randy and an enthusiastically drunk you. It’s a combination Stu and Billy realize they don’t have to worry about in the way that they were thinking.

“Summoned us?” Billy tilts his head, already slightly amused.

You nod happily,“Yep!” You squeeze Billy’s arm gently. “Missed you two, drinking’s not that fun without you guys making fun of me.”

Stu blink, easing slightly. “We called.”

At that, your expression falls. Your eyebrows draw together, eyes widening apologetically as your lips pull into a pout. “You did?” You twist in Billy’s hold, the bottle of vodka in your hand nearly slipping from your grasp. “I must not have heard music--” You cut yourself off, your head falling to the side in confusion. A small giggle escapes you at the thought of your mistake. “No, no--I-I heard the music. That was the problem. I didn’t hear the phone over the music.” Stu bites down a smile, wondering how far he can pull at your alcohol fused guilt. “I’m sorry.”

He shifts, leaning against the wall. You frown a little more at that. Where’s your hug? You turn your head, moving past Billy and wrapping your arms around Stu. You grab onto him a little too fast. “Woah,” Stu mumbles, squeezing you back, “Guess good pal Randy didn’t think to tell you to slow down.”

“I did,” Randy defends himself flatly, “She didn’t take it well.”

Stu now smiles openly. “You were mean to poor Randy?”

You shake your head against his chest. “Not mean, just didn’t listen.”

“You almost ripped my head off.”

“Yeah,” with a dramatic roll of your eyes, you pull away from Stu, “Because you’re making my living room smell like weed, not because of the drinking comment.” With a huff, you cross your arms in front of your chest, the bottle nearly slipping from your grasp again. “My family’s gone for a night, not forever.”

Randy sighs, “Light a candle.”

“Told you, doesn’t work if you smoke on the couch. It gets into the fabric and pillows and stuff.”

He shuts his eyes at your whine, “You’re just upset I wouldn’t let you smoke.”

“Because you didn’t give me a good ‘no’-reason.”

Ignoring the slurred way your words come out, Randy lazily turns, “Drunk you is fun, high you is messy.” You glare at him, unable to argue. “Face it, Stu’s the only one willing to babysit you when you smoke.”

“She’s not that bad,” Stu defends weakly, placing his hands around your waist, “Last time she didn’t even cry when she got paranoid.”

You gently elbow him, upset that they’re ganging up on you. “You two aren’t funny.”

“I’ll get high with you, babe,” Stu’s tone has taken on that slightly condescending softness as he reaches for you again. “As soon as you’re not hungover, promise.”

You let him hug you. “’M not gonna be hung over.”

“Mhm,” Stu mumbles, “Tell me that again tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Randy says as he stands, “I was supposed to leave like an hour ago, but Y/n didn’t want to be alone.”

Randy starts approaching the front door. “Bye Randy! Leave me a message when you get home so I know you didn’t get murdered.”

“Guy smoking weed, walking home late at night,” Randy muses, “Don’t love my odds.” He pauses at your frown. “Kidding, I live one street down from you. I’ll be fine and I’ll leave a message.”

You nod in acceptance. “Bye!” Randy waves you off before stepping out of your front door. The sound of the door shutting reminds you of something. “How’d you guys get in? Door was locked.”

“Your window wasn’t,” Stu replies easily.

At this point, the thought of them coming in through your window doesn’t even phase you. “You two, always with the window.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to lock it,” Billy muses, voice oddly cold, “There’s a killer on the loose.”

You frown at that. “One, I’m not high, you can’t freak me out. Two, it’s not like I want to keep you guys out.”

Billy angles his head downwards, looking at you in a way you can’t read, so you choose to focus on the way his hair falls across his face. “You don’t?”

You shake your head dramatically, “No, I like it when you’re here. I’d let you guys in through the front door.”

“Didn’t think you’d answer,” he mumbles, “You didn’t answer the phone.”

You move away from Stu to stand closer to Billy. You do feel sorry for missing the calls, but you’re not in the mood for this. You’re too tired for anything that isn’t casual and happy. “I’m sorry,” you say again.

There’s something harsh about Billy’s expression. It’s so sharp it hits you straight in the chest. You don’t like it. You want it gone. It doesn’t feel like you’re standing next to the Billy you know. You reach a hand out without thinking, your fingers cautiously brushing against his lower arm. With no warning, Billy turns his hand over in order to grab your hand. He squeezes your hand so tightly it feels uncomfortable. He takes advantage of his hold on you, tugging you forward. You stumble, catching yourself before you can fall against his chest. Billy tilts his head down, his forehead just barely touching yours. The way he’s looking at you changes slightly, but it doesn’t lose its intensity.

After a long second, you find a meeker version of your voice. “Are you mad at me?”

“Don’t leave me,” he blurts out, voice low and harsh and so close to vulnerable a chill runs through you. Despite the alcohol in your system, you know that this stray from his usual facade is significant. You just don’t understand why.

You hold his stare as long as he lets you. He breaks away from the display of neediness, turning his head to hide his gaze in your neck. His father’s voice is screaming in his head, repulsed by his own weakness. Torn between pushing you away and pulling you even closer, Billy’s grip on you tightens even more.

A more sober you would have reacted differently. You wouldn’t have pushed Billy away, not after what he said, but you might have hesitated a little more, maybe even questioned what he meant. “What?” You almost regret breaking the silence, one of your hands moving to smooth his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. There’s an uncertainty there that exhausts you. “You know how much you guys mean to me.” When Billy still doesn’t ease, you frown, placing a hand on his cheek. “You guys want to sleep over? We can watch movies and tomorrow morning you can see how not hung over I am.”

“Adorable,” Stu hums teasingly, running a hand up and down your upper arm, “You two should kiss and makeup more often.”

You roll your eyes. “We weren’t fighting and we didn’t kiss.” Billy, feeling a tiny bit better, places a hand on the back of your head. He pulls you forward, kissing the side of your head. You smile, fondness pooling in your eyes. “Haha,” you mumble dryly, “Are you guys staying over or not?”

After a second, Billy answers, “We’ll stay since you clearly can’t be trusted to stay home alone. Leaving your window open is opening-scene-of-a-horror-movie level of a bad idea.”

You don’t glare at him the way you normally would. Maybe it’s the buzz of alcohol, or maybe it’s the warmth of their touch against your flushed skin. “As long as you guys are staying.”

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream imagine #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #x reader

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thecruellestmonth · 3 months

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quick and dirty guide to Jason Todd in the masterpiece Batman: Battle for the Cowl—canon and fanon

CANON

Jason canonically is a cop-killing asshole garbage manbaby hypocrite who shoots a ten-year-old in the chest.

is a bad person explicitly because his dirty criminal childhood on the streets made him crazy and immoral. He canonically was ruined before Batman ever scraped him out of Crime Alley. (Canon—only a fake fan would argue against it!)

The Lazarus Pit also worsened his mind.

Described as "deranged" and "delusional" and "broken" and "rabid".

Crucifies Tim's Batsuit on a literal wooden cross, but Tim rises from the dead because he's Jesus.

Shoots ten-year-old Damian in the chest, then ridicules Dick for trying to save a "meaningless life".

After being shot, Damian lies on his sickbed just long enough for Dick to brood over his unconscious body.

As soon as Dick leaves, Damian jumps up, tries to swing a wrench at Alfred's head, makes a sexist comment to Squire, and then goes out running around as Robin like nothing happened.

Dick tries to use some unspecified shameful childhood trauma to trigger Jason into accepting Help, but for some mysterious reason Jason refuses—and obviously deranged, delusional, broken people Refuse Help because they're bad people who don't want to change.

-- (Somewhere, John Calvin is moaning in pleasure.) --

Uh thanks for the brief help in the B-plot, Cass—now go away, your thoughts and feelings about all this don't matter.

Apparently Jason can't transform into a man-eating tentacle monster anymore. :(

Overall, the art is pretty swanky.👌

AFTERMATH: Jason commits some dozens more murders.

Dick rightly finds him to be an insufferable asshole, and gains the ability to say so without resorting to ableism.

Damian doesn't care about being shot in the chest and suffers no lasting damage, he is too busy being in fun stories that actually further his character.

Going forward, none of the next writers really try to push long-term "Lazarus Pit madness" for Jason again--except Winick did try to slip it into the prequel, to salvage his baby.

Jason is never shown apologizing for his actions, yet less than a year later apparently decides he wants "redemption".

Bruce happily hands him a full position in Batman Incorporated, with seemingly no special supervision.

While Jason agrees to be subordinate to Batman, he still enjoys being a cocky bastard, and shows no remorse for his past crimes—which are only vaguely alluded to having happened.

CANON(?)

Battle for the Cowl was canon from 2009 to 2011.

It was wiped from existence when the universe reset in the 2011 Flashpoint reboot.

Presently as of the Infinite Frontier "timeline", BftC probably isn't canon until a writer actively writes it back into history, like No Man's Land fairly recently was.

AFTERMATH: It never happened.

FANON

Some scenario loosely inspired by Battle for the Cowl happens because Jason has glowy eyes Lazarus Pit Madness.

What is a female character...?

The conflict is wrapped up in like 200 words.

AFTERMATH: Dick gives Jason a big hug and apologizes for being the worstest brother ever back when Jason was a lonely little angel child.

Jason finds out that he is the most favoritest Robin for tiny 10-year-old Timmy, and he cries tears of remorse for his Lazarus Pit-induced violent frenzy against a nine eight seven-year-old little spleenless baby Tiny Timmy.

More hugging, cuddling, fingers affectionately carding through hair.

Damian doesn't exist for some reason.

If Damian does exist, he's treated like an unwanted booger instead of a human child. He talks like a robot and has no sense of humor.

Jason maybe scolds insensitive meanie Dick for picking evil Damian over Tiny Timmy. Timmy has been suffering fainting spells and consumption, all alone until Jason rescues him.

FANON

Massive overcompensation for other fanon.

CALLOUT post for Jason Todd!

Jason was a good kid. He isn't a bad person at all because of his childhood on the streets. (Fanon.)

The Lazarus Pit had no effect on his mind.

He is 100% sane and willing.

He is a bad person because he's sanely choosing to be an asshole garbage manbaby hypocrite who shoots a ten-year-old in the chest.

Damian isn't sexist to Squire, because she doesn't exist.

Dick destroys Jason with facts and logic and perfectly ethical therapy-speak, and never gets his hands dirty trying to trigger mental illness.

Jason destroys Damian's spine.

Tim and Damian suffer lasting physical and psychological trauma from Jason's torture—being a soldier is now harmful for a delicate developing child, but only on this singular occasion because Jason.

Alfred is the one who stole the Robin mantle from Tim to give it to Damian. 🥺 Dick was forced into a tough situation—he had no choice in how he handled things! It's Alfred, I tell you!

Dick suddenly has a close bond with Cass.

AFTERMATH: The loving idyllic Batfamily hard-blocks radicalized incel full-grown 18-year-old manbaby Jason.

They live happily ever after.

Paradise Lost Satan Jason must suffer his totally self-inflicted isolation, knowing he can never go back to the warm embrace of the very healthy and functional Batfamily, because of his petty, stubborn, definitely made-up unreasonable delusions of being a soldier in an endless warzone.

Hopefully some more cruelty and isolation can make Jason realize he's receiving karmic punishment for being a bad person—somehow this is clearly different from all the cruelty and isolation that happened to him for no reason at all.

--(John Calvin has recovered from his refractory period—he is now moaning more loudly and passionately.)--

"Yes, this is totally what happened! Read a comic, fake fans!" *makes up a fake version of BftC that never happened*

#Jason Todd #Batboys #post Crisis #canon vs fanon #fanon vs canon #Batfam #Batfamily #Battle for the Cowl #Batfam meta #Batman Battle for the Cowl #meta

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inklore · 11 months

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—🍊. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐔'𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓

this is not a writing challenge, this is just a list of summer au's that have been collecting dust in my google docs that i'm both sick of looking at, and also feel like for those who also really enjoy writing summery fics, could always use more inspiration or ideas for au's or scenario's (even if it's just smutty or fluffy blurbs).

please make note that anyone can use these for any fandom or character. it's literally for everyone, for whatever ship, gender, or verse. no one owns au's and everyone makes them their own and writes differently. so please do with the content below as you wish!!

you don't gotta tag me if you use one but would i love to read your beautiful work? hell yeah so feel free to if ya feel like it.

i separated each into categories + some might have added context or prompts because i have zero self control and like to be extra and add ideas onto things lmao.

hopefully someone finds these fun and helpful, happy writing my loves <3

LOCATION.

beach

ocean

ice cream parlor

lake town

ranch

summer camp

summer school

island

boat

fishing town

resort

the woods

national park

public pool

destination wedding

renaissance fair

lake house

bar

theme park

capecod

italy

winery / vinyards

country club

cruise ship

concert

RELATIONSHIP BASED.

brothers best friend ('unfortunately' spending the summer with your family)

neighbors au

exes back for the summer

bodyguard au (character a has to follow around reader whose some princess/rich girl on a vacation, bonus points if she's supposed to be on lockdown but refuses to stay at the hotel, even more bonus points if her parents sent her on this vacation as a rehabilitation for her bad habits)

best friends dad (you're spending the summer with your bestie and god her dads hot as hell)

mermaid x human

frat boy x good girl (last minute studying together before summer break, or maybe the frat is throwing a big grad party and reader decides to let loose for the first time in forever)

frat boy x sorority girl (it's giving rich hoes who can't stand each other who get caught doing something and have to do community service with each other alllll summerrrrr long, can you think of anything worse?!)

sitcom stars (they're both on some summer love show but fall for each other instead, or you're two celebs supposed to be fake dating on some mtv drama show in palm springs but you actually fall for each other)

park ranger x someone who thought going camping alone would be fun but oh shit i know nothing about the wilderness au

ex-best friends ex (a summer love but put revenge and 'we're only fucking because this friend screwed me over and it'll really show them' au anyone??)

lifeguard x parent au (or you saved my life let me repay you wink wink)

dads best friend

house sitter x house owner (or neighbor, or family member who came home early and wtf are you doing here and who are you?? or even the old i asked the neighbor to watch our house but also my wife wink wink)

babysitter who tags along on vacation with the family au

fake dating (for the summer)

friends to lovers was made for summer au's!!!

superhero x vigilante (nightly meet ups to keep the streets safe)

friends with benefits but only for the summer au

painter x muse

body found on beach x person who found them (+ the added bonus of the two of them working together to figure out wtf happened and how they got there)

sugar baby x sugar whathaveyou (free vacation? hell yeah)

roommates (renting a room for summer what could go wrong)

tour guide / local x tourist

camp counselor x parent of camper

friend group on a drama filled vacay au

the only single people at this resort for couples au

sad housewife x pool boy

DARK THEMED.

cult au

slasher au

hitchhiking gone wrong (or right)

monster au (summer is the perfect time to go exploring for the monster in the woods or the lake, ocean even, obviously)

haunted house au

ghost hunting au

hunter x prey (bonus points if they don't know they're being hunted until it's too late)

safe house au (gone wrong)

kidnapping au (it's giving 365 days but less shitty ok)

stranded au (on an island, in a creepy town, etc)

bestie's trip gone wrong au (the innocent looking guys at the pool who are gorgeous are actually super shitty and deadly omg, or the couple in the hotel room next to us are insane wow, or someone is killing us off...but it's someone within the friend group)

stuck in an abandoned amusement park au

INSPIRED BY.

grease au

dirty dancing au

x au (70s-80s pornstars au + added slasher element if ya wanna make it dark)

daisy jones & the six / rocker au (summer tour anyone?)

the white lotus (cheating au?? a couple hoping a vacation will fix their marriage, maybe even the whole shitty husband leaves you there and you fall for one of the resort workers)

50 first dates au (but make it 'i bet i can make you fall in love with me by the end of summer)

jurassic park au

i know what you did last summer au

friday the 13th au

the final girls au (aka you end up in your favorite movie and have to find your way out with a side of 'oh shit there's my fav character what if i stayed and made them fall in love with me instead', or go full final girls au and you're stuck in a cult horror movie and have to survive the night to get out of it)

outer banks / goonies au

schitt's creek au

romeo and juliet (1996) au

mama mia au (the prequeal tho aka boning a bunch of people and omg i'm pregnant who is the baby daddy tho??)

overboard au

OCCUPATIONS.

naturalist

farmers market vender

dog walker / dog sitter

dive bar singer

surfer

swim instructor

vet

journalist

camp counselor

author

cowboy

undercover pi

contractor

car wash attendant

lifeguard

gardener / landscaper

summer intern

tour guide

tutor

nanny

theme park owner

bartender

house sitter

summer farmhand

golf course caddy

sign-holder

movie theatre worker

uber driver

wedding photographer

hotel receptionist

RANDOM.

heatwave (how ever will we stay cool?)

shipwreck / stranded on an island au

rainstorm / hurricane au (stuck inside oh no what will we do??)

love triangle that shit

matchmaking au

love letters in a bottle au

drunken karaoke

kissing in the rain is top tier

workaholic letting loose au

(illegal) car racing au

road trip au

#feel free to add to this list if you wish #writing prompts #writer resources #fic au's #prompts #fic resources #au's #writing reference #fic help #resources !

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