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wren.

elegance is more important than suffering
Original poster
STAFF MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Slice-of-Life, Gothic, Horror, Fantasy
sage

thyme
STATUS: CLOSED
"I have only made this letter longer because I have not had the time to make it shorter.”
ABOUT ME
Hello, hello! I'm Wren! I accept all pronouns, but most know me as she/her. I have been roleplaying for several years now (roughly a decade or so) and I consider myself fairly good at it. I am most partial to group roleplays nowadays but I occasionally dip my toes into 1x1s.

I recently graduated from my undergrad with a BS in psychology, minoring in creative writing, and am currently preparing for eventual grad school. Besides writing, I enjoy coding, indulging in my shitty music taste, and ranting about many things. A predominant one is Nygmobblepot, and if you know what that is, feel free to PM me for group therapy. You may have noticed my affinity for the color green.

Okay, but now the part you actually want to know:

Do not expect consistency in my replying schedule. Some days I'm too busy to respond, and some days I'm just not in the mood to write. If you are looking for a partner who will reply multiple times a day, I am absolutely NOT that partner. Sometimes I can reply multiple times a day, and other times it might take me several weeks to get a reply out. The average length of our replies will also be a main factor in the speed of my replies, typically. I try to reply at least once a week.

• However, I am almost always willing to chat OOC if you are amenable.

• My word count range is generally ~200 - 3,000 words per post, although you can count on ~500 being the most frequent. I am a firm believer in quality over quantity, so no need to fluff to reach a word count. Here are some writing samples, if you'd like them:
SAMPLE 1
Shit, if he had rubbed his eyes just now he would have absolutely ruined his eye makeup. He would have screamed. So, yeah. He's bored. Transcendentally bored. How do you manage to be bored in a shop full of magical items, Cian, you might be wondering. Probably because he has worked here for some 10 years now. He knows every crystal down to its mineral composition and every spell book down to its author's notes. Sometimes they get new things in, but it doesn't take him long to understand every possible use of an item once it gets into his hands. He's always been a bit hyperfocused when it comes to studying magic and other magic-related fair.

Usually, he'd be entertaining himself with whatever customers happen to be in the store, but currently, there's no one here. It seems most people have been trying to avoid the off-and-on rain, and the fact that it's prime dinner time doesn't help matters. Then again, he can never really be sure what to expect. Customer influx is almost entirely unpredictable for a shop like this — there are so many magi in the world, practicing so many different crafts, after all. A flock of light magi might burst in during the morning or early afternoon when the sun is at its brightest and their magic at its peak, a school of water magi might trickle in to take advantage of the rain, a murder of dark magi might come when the sun is beginning to set. Then there's the matter of work and class schedules. In a city as busy as this, it's near impossible to keep track of lull times.

But here one is, and here he is, leaned back in his cushy chair behind the counter with his legs propped up on the polished glass housing various sweets and other small trinkets, watching the raindrops grow heavy and eventually fall down the shop windows. Why they even have such a wide selection of candy in such a store is beyond him — his boss had mentioned it being a method of keeping customers returning, but they don't exactly sell out of the stuff. Nobody comes here for candy.

Which means that there's plenty left for him to steal. Which he does. Quite often. Exhibit A: the sucker in his mouth. Blue raspberry. Because he's not a heathen. He's already checked his phone a million times in the last hour, and he's doubtful anyone has gotten up to anything exceptionally interesting since then. Most of it is party information. Halloween is right around the corner, after all, and then Magis Moore will follow shortly after. What's your costume this year? seems to be one of the most pertinent questions now. He's had his own planned for quite some time. What, you think a spirit magi isn't going to prepare for Halloween ahead of time? Unfortunately, he's getting up in years now, so his options are more limited than they were when he was younger. It would be a bit embarrassing walking around in those elaborate costumes of his younger years and the skimpy costumes of his 20s, so he'd gone for a simple cat costume.

Anyway, perhaps he should put on some music?

Before he can select a song from his phone, there's that familiar tinkle of the door's bell, and he glances up to see an elderly woman shuffling her way into the shop. Not their usual demographic, but he's seen so many oddities that nothing really surprises him anymore. "Good afternoon," he smiles around his sucker, removing his legs from the counter to look a little more formal. The woman says nothing. Just shuffles her slow ass through the aisles. Alright, bitch, be that way.

Jeez, she moves at a snail's pace. This is going to take a while. He tosses the now empty stick of his sucker into the nearby trashcan.


"I'm sorry, ma'am, we're out of peridot crystals."

"Can't you check in the back?"

It takes a great deal of self-restraint to keep from rolling his eyes. "I can assure you it would be a waste, I keep close tabs on our inventory," he replies coolly, grin still fixed firmly in place. Hopefully, it feels mocking.

The woman huffs, and he's surprised dust doesn't puff out with the air. "Where is your manager?" With the exaggerated flair of a waiter unveiling a dish at one of those fancy restaurants where the napkins are folded like animals, he gestures to his nametag that is proudly emblazoned with 'MANAGER.' The old bat squints, clearly taking in the word for the first time. Then she grunts indignantly as if she couldn't easily find the damn rocks elsewhere. "This is ridiculous!"

"I'll double check for you," he decides, "But don't count on anything."

He heads to the back room and proceeds to stand there in the center, doing absolutely fuck all. Of course, he's not checking the boxes. He's already well aware of what he'll find. They don't have any damn peridot. He taps his manicured nails against one of the emptier shelves as if typing on a keyboard, enjoying the clicking noise that reverberates throughout the space. After a few minutes, he heads back out to the counter, affirming that they indeed have no more peridot crystals. The old crone accepts defeat with a little grace at least and leaves after purchasing some sage.

Well, but now he's back to being bored. Jeez, at this point he might even welcome Simon and the other little shits who love to vandalize the place. Okay, they're not actually that bad. Yes, on occasion they bring in a stray who likes to steal a couple of things, but on the whole, they're pretty harmless. He's not even sure why they hang out here so much — Simon and Picus are too poor to buy anything most of the time, and Spencer usually just comes along for emotional support or something. It seems that for some reason, he was elected as one of them, and now he can't seem to shake the little fleas off. In full honesty, though, he does like them. They're like the younger siblings he never had.

Simon, though. Well. Simon is a whole other matter. Cian isn't blind, nor is he inexperienced (no, certainly not that!) — he knows when someone is infatuated with him. He can't pinpoint when exactly it happened, but it's been some years since Simon became more touchy with him, and now he's not afraid to cling to him entirely. There's also the looks he gives to the people that Cian flirts with (for the sake of sales... mostly) that speak of nothing but bitterness. It's... sweet, really. He can't say he minds it. Simon is adorable. He's a little irresponsible, but his positive attitude is something to behold. His loyalty is admirable, and, well. He's pretty easy on the eyes.

And that's exactly why Cian can't do anything about the situation. Simon is too sweet. Too kind. Cian can't just bang him and drop him like everybody else. He can't break the kid's heart like that. So he doesn't comment on it, turns his head when Simon's mismatched eyes look at him with too much affection, pretends to be oblivious to any romantic gestures. Simon's young and hot-blooded — he'll find someone else soon enough. Hopefully.

Now he just has to get through the last few hours of his shift.
SAMPLE 2
He didn't sleep well last night, but that's not unusual for him. The weight of several days of insomnia is weighing on his shoulders, threatening to drag him under the water of his too-large bathtub. Maybe that's just his heavy conscience, or, more likely, his hangover. He can't remember the last time he was able to sleep without drinking. Then again, when is he ever sober long enough to find out if he can?

Either way, it's probably the sleep deprivation that's made his movement beneath the water so enjoyable. He shifts, waves a hand to cause ripples, as entertained by the colorful reflections it creates in the soapy water as a child might be. Maybe the heat and the overwhelming stench of his bubble bath are starting to get to his head. You wouldn't expect a mix of amber wood, gardenia, and jasmine to smell all that strong, but it really intensifies when you've been in the bath for... how long has it been now? If he focuses, the water feels significantly colder than what he started with, so it must have been a while.

He only ever leaves the house for work, so when he doesn't feel like going in, time tends to cease to exist to him. He keeps the curtains almost perpetually closed to keep the sunlight out, so he can only go off the small streaks that manage to poke in through the cracks. Given that they've almost disappeared, late evening must be approaching. What did he even get done today? He'd tried to read, but he'd been unable to focus on the words, his hands and his vision shaking too severely. He'd... napped for a bit, at least. Maybe tomorrow will be better for productivity. Even if he doesn't feel well, he should at least force himself to go out. It's a fragile line between atonement and self-pity, after all.

He rubs away the burning sensation building in his throat, willing back the emotion surging back into his corpse. Focus on other things. Other things like the sound of rain tapping on the window, the knocking at the door, the creaking of the manor's old wood from the wind — wait. Knock at the door? Who the hell is that? Maybe it's Tiago on one of his surprise 'just making sure you haven't keeled over yet' visits. But in this weather?

Sighing, he steps out from the bath, toweling himself off before wrapping the cotton fabric around his waist. His reflection looks horrid, hair stringy in its washed state, and shadows under his eyes made even darker by the dim yellow light of the bathroom. He pulls the plug on the tub, listening to the gargle of the drain for a moment to make sure that it's working before he hurries down the stairway to the door. He sweeps a hand through his hair briefly to look at least somewhat presentable before the judgmental eyes of his painted predecessors on the wall. He pulls the door open without another thought, fully prepared to chastise Tiago for visiting in such conditions or to tell off one of those vulture reporters trying to dig up a decades-old story.

A reporter it is, although not one he'd expected to be on his doorstep. "Alby?" The man looks as prissy as he always does when he antagonizes him at the bakery, but his carefully-layered outfit looks much less stylish when soaked by rain. The way the wet clothes seem to hang limply from him only highlights how young he is, and he actually feels a bit bad to have kept him standing out in the rain, even if it was just for a minute or so. He raises an eyebrow, "'Are you lost, little puppy?" Only when the curly-haired brunet holds up the increasingly damp flyer does the situation click in his mind.

Right, he'd hung up several roommate advertisements around town like a week ago. It'd been a bit of a sudden whim motivated by the strong desire to fill the empty space of his house, although he hadn't expected much to come of it. He definitely wouldn't have expected Alby of all people to take him up on the offer. Still, he steps aside, gesturing him in. "You can hang up your coat on the rack there. Let me get you a towel before you make the hardwood mold."

He walks off before he hears an answer, fetching one from the small pantry room on the other side of the house before returning to offer it up to him. "Most people call first, you know."
SAMPLE 3
A part of him almost thinks it serves them all right. Not all of them, perhaps, but most of them. Hera killed his mother while he was still inside the lovely woman’s womb, and if it wasn’t for Zeus, he would have died another victim of her unnecessary and volatile wrath. But even Zeus had abandoned him to the rain nymphs on Mount Nysa. Born from fire, raised by rain; like grapes grow in the earth, as the humans said after he took dominion of them and introduced all to the sweet elixir they offered. But what did he get in return? The twice-born god, the Zeus of Nysa, who dragged his way to Olympus from Asia, and was begrudgingly accepted but forever the outsider. The only Olympian with a human mother.

Fine. If they wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, he figured he’d become impossible to ignore. And oh, did he. Festivity, ecstasy, pleasure, madness — gifting freedom from self-consciousness and all restraints to the most outcasted of beings, traversing and subverting the boundaries set by those before him. He’d died, and he’d come back. He crossed the boundary of life and death, and he walked the line of the civilized and the uncivilized, and explored the boundary of the known and the unknown. Dionysus. Eleutherios. Dionysus, The Liberator. Dionysus, Protector of Misfits. Beloved by those who received love nowhere else, and worshiped for his research that brought such a wonderful gift to the mortals. He’d earned his spot, and if they don’t want to recognize that, then let them burn.

Of course, a bigger part of him doesn’t really want that. It’s easy to throw stones when it’s all in your head, but another thing when you witness what you claimed to have wanted. Athena. Huh. He never would have expected that one. He never would have expected any of this, really. But distance allows detachment. Allows a certain objective view as he stands there in their temple of gold and marble, standing still amidst the chaos, watching this chimera tear through the historical landmarks around them. Watching it tear through them. He doesn’t want any of them to die, not even Hera, but he resigns himself to the thought that perhaps they all just might. That he just might. He’s ready for death. At least he thinks he is. Shame it has to be here and now, though. On this mountain with a group of people who’d never actually cared about him. Well… except one. But Hestia isn’t here. Dionysus had taken what was once hers and she'd left Olympus, and at least that meant that she was safe from this hellish nightmare consuming them all. As long as Hestia is safe, then there’s nothing else for him to fight for. Now is as good a time to die as any.

He watches gods cling to each other, desperate for their lovers and companions, seeking comfort in the midst of their terror. Most assuredly thinking that if they are to die, at least they shall die together. Dionysus clutches himself, nails digging into the soft flesh of his arms, and that’s enough. It has to be enough. When did he start crying?

"Take human form!”

A sudden light catches him unprepared as he tunes out the noise, but he has little time to process it before everything has changed, anyway.


When the light fades, he’s in the streets of Valencia, Spain. They are in Valencia, given the large crowd around him. All in new bodies. All with new names. His own body looks clad in the punk gear he often wears when he comes down to visit humanity. Alois Merlow Moore is the name he chose long ago for this form, and he finds it fitting. It even includes a pun, because of course it does. It becomes apparent rather quickly as everyone settles into their new bodies that Zeus is nowhere to be found. Didn't he follow them down? Actually, it looks like several people are missing. Did Zeus mess up the teleportation? Was he even the one who teleported them? It makes the most sense, given his sudden order. What are they to do now without him? Hecate speaks up soon enough, mentioning something about temporarily removing their powers. The idea sounds ridiculous, and he can already see the pushback in the tension of his fellow gods' shoulders before any of them even begin to speak. But, "I think it's a fine idea," he speaks up. When attention turns to him, he shrugs. "If it's the only way to avoid being tracked, then what other choice do we have?"

And so, it's agreed, and quickly, Alois finds himself nearly bowled over with sudden dizziness as his powers are stripped. What an odd sensation. He barely has time to process the fatigue settling into his bones before the sound of growling fills the air, and he turns to see a group of rabid methheads running at them. Actually, no, not methheads. They're coming at them with very inhuman movements and blood soaking their garments. Like something out of those cheesy zombie movies the humans like to indulge in.

He has little choice but to follow the others as they all haul ass toward some semblance of safety. He notices others scampering off in their own directions, but he has no motivation to join any of them. Where would he go? He’s become somewhat known by the humans for his benevolence and had never really bothered with learning how to properly beat someone’s ass in a physical fight. If he’d wanted someone ripped apart, he could just snap his fingers, but now… he can’t feel his powers anymore. He’s helpless. Better to stay with the group.

When did the human world get like this? It feels like he’d just been here yesterday! He’s always spent far more time with the humans than with the other gods. Had he really been away long enough to not notice a pandemic ruining them? This is not ideal.

They run for what seems like hours to lose the now multiplied creatures hunting them, and Alois spots a large, seemingly abandoned hotel to the left. ”Everyone over here! he shouts as loudly as he can without drawing too much attention, gesturing empathetically for people to follow him as he leads them into the building. It’s large, and extravagant, and should be a decent place to stay for now until they work out a better plan. He leads them up a few flights of stairs, just in case, until they come upon a second lobby that should have enough room to contain them all. When every last person is inside, they start dropping to the floors like flies, gasping with exertion and the remnants of their panic.

He, himself, drops into one of the plush armchairs of the pretentiously extravagant lobby, staring up at the ceiling and generally ignoring the moaning around him. He spots Hephaestus and Jase and sighs in relief that they appear uninjured. Although that isn't synonymous with "well". And Pan — where is he? That goatman spends more time on Earth than even he does, and last time he checked, he was still on Earth when this all went down. He hasn’t heard from him in some time… He should stop thinking about it. He doesn’t want to entertain the idea of his friend’s death. How many gods are even here? How many were brought down? Just the ones in Olympus at the time, or did the light stretch farther than that? Has that chimera turned its attention to other places? Is it coming for them? Can it come for them? And Hestia…?

Alois sits up properly, frantically surveying the room as he affirms the horrible truth that he already knows — she’s not here. What had been a comfort before is now a nightmare at the thought that she might still be up there with those monsters. Surely now that they've destroyed Olympus, they'll turn their sights elsewhere? And she wasn't here to get her powers removed... She's somewhere out there in the danger, and he’s not there to help her. Alois claws at his throat where it’s beginning to tighten, his heart racing and stomach lurching. He needs to go. Needs to find her. He owes her that much. But he doesn’t even know where to begin, and he’s so damn tired…

”Al. Alois. Dio!” A voice cuts through the static in his ears, and he realizes he’s begun to hyperventilate. It’s Hephaestus, or Klaudiusz now judging by his form, looking down at him with obvious concern, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into Alois’s shoulder. ”It’s going to be okay.”

”She's still out there. Hestia. S-She's still out there, somewhere, vulnerable —"

He can’t decide if he appreciates or despises the pity in the man’s eyes. So icy, despite his domain being fire. Funny how that works. ”So is Aphro. She’s not here with us.”

The statement makes Al dissolve back into the chair, ignoring the other man’s sharp gaze. ”You’re awfully calm. Was she one of the people that had run off by themselves?”

”No,” he says firmly, defensively, ”She wouldn’t leave me like that. I don’t think so, at least.” Klaudiusz sighs, batting Alois’s feet to the side so he can sit on the arm of the chair, which barely gives under his small figure. Their friendship might seem surprising to some, but Alois has a habit of befriending the “odd ones out.” He still remembers their first meeting…

“Hey, where’d you get that limp? Looks badass!”

And the rest was history… literally. Nothing like bonding over mutual spite.

”We have to keep a cool head about this. Better to wait here for their return, or wait for orders from Zeus. Going off on our own would be reckless given the circumstances.”

He’s right, of course. Alois knows he’s right, as much as he would love to just let his passion fuel him on a bloodlust. They have no idea the extent of the… situation out there, and he has no idea where Hestia is.

”Get some rest, Alois.”

Alois huffs, the air stirring a lock of fiery hair on his forehead. ”This isn’t very cash money.”

Klaud laughs, breathy and humorless. ”No. No, it isn’t. Get some rest, Alois.” He feels the man’s weight lift from the chair as he limps away, and Alois falls obediently into a restless sleep.


In the morning, he spreads out in the chair he’d been occupying last night, as though posed on a piano as he might once have been. He really wishes he had his powers so he could manifest himself a glass of wine. He’s going to have to be properly drunk to keep himself from all of the awful thoughts that are pounding his temples. He listens to the others stew in their newfound misery, observing the awkwardness and discomfort with barely concealed amusement. “What a lively bunch we all are,” he grumbles, staring up at the ceiling.

He misses his cult. He could really go for a Shakespearean comedy right about now. If they ever get back to normal, he’s going to have to tell them to stay away from the tragedies for a while. Even if those are usually funny in their own right. But maybe a bit too on the nose now. Although he certainly wouldn’t compare this shitfest to Hamlet. Which, of course, is also a shitfest. Just of a different breed. It doesn’t really fit into the category of “me and all of the people I am, unfortunately, often in the proximity of were almost murdered, and now we’re stuck as humans in the middle of the apocalypse.” If he lives through this, he should turn it into a play. No, no, a musical! Move over Willy.

“Here we are in the apocalypse, and we’re not even gonna go down partying,” he laments exaggeratedly, running a hand through his hair.
SAMPLE 4
Eight a.m. in university truly is different from eight a.m. in high school. How did they even manage to get up with such little problem so early in the morning back then? When the horrid screeching of their phone alarm goes off at 6 a.m., they barely manage to stop themselves from throwing the blasted thing at the wall. It doesn't help that Quill's goes off at the same time, the both of them cursed with the exact same early morning class. Not that biology isn't an interesting subject, but it isn't exactly the one she'd prefer to deal with when she's just managed to convince her eyes to stay open.

"When I throw myself out this window, remember to tell the world how brilliant I was at my funeral," she says as her own 'good morning' greeting, only the small smirk they send their blonde roommate's way being any indication that they're joking despite their deadpan tone. How Quill is already up and nearly ready for the day is beyond her. They get to their feet quickly regardless of their pessimistic words, shivering briefly as their exposed flesh acclimates to the drafty room that's only getting colder as the fall semester progresses. You'd think that such a prestigious school would have better heating, but it seems no university is free of the sin of having to pour most of their money into the sports teams. Is Lynmouth even particularly known for their sports? It's not like she'd have any clue. "Mind turning up the space heater a bit while I shower?" Hopefully, the ancient thing is out of dust to burn; the smell that had filled their room when they'd first turned the thing on had been almost unbearable.

She tries to slink as silently as possible around the room and gathers her shower caddy, then changes into her fluffy black bathrobe. She slips into the eerily silent hallway, her footsteps echoing as she pads toward the communal bathroom. The one good thing about waking so early, at least, is that very few people are up at the same time, which means there is no one there to fight with over a shower. Admittedly, the small bathroom in the similarly small section of the third floor is not usually crowded. Still, there are only two showers in total, and the only one with a bathtub is usually clogged full of hair from people not properly removing theirs after bathing. So they always gravitate to the regular prison-like shower.

They wash quickly, brushing their teeth afterward and then moving back to the room to change. They grab various random articles of clothing that look like they can go together and sequester themselves near their bed. "Look away," they call in warning before dropping their robe and slipping the clothes on. Having a much more objective view of the human body than most, they've never been particularly bothered by nudity. Not in seeing it, nor in presenting their naked body to others. Quill, however, does not seem to share this sentiment, and it only took a few times before Miki noticed the flushing of her roommate's face and their pointed looks away. If it were easier to do so in the cramped space, she'd change in the bathroom for Quill's comfort, but alas. A warning should be enough.


Once her routine is finished, she flashes Quill a more awake grin as she grabs her worn felt satchel. "You ready to head down to breakfast?"

It's a pleasant surprise to have a roommate that one can not only tolerate but whose company you can actually enjoy. Entering into their junior year, Miki had been nervous about choosing a double dorm. For the previous two years, they'd chosen to stay in single dorms, preferring their own space where they wouldn't have to deal with someone else breathing down their neck while they were trying to work or just relax away from the rest of campus. But the single dorms are quite expensive, and their parents earning slightly more money than usual meant that they received less financial aid than usual given the asinine fact that the financial aid office goes off of your parents' income rather than your own. Unfortunately, the library doesn't pay well enough to cover that extra two thousand dollars, so they were forced to file for a double room.

She'd been dreading meeting her roommate initially but was quite pleased to learn that Quill was quite the respectful roommate, and fairly similar to herself in terms of efficiency and passions. Conversations between them are actually entertaining, consisting of more than the usual small talk that plagues most of her social interactions. It's not exactly a secret that she doesn't have many friends, so getting to add someone to the tiny roster was a nice surprise. As a result, she finds herself usually looking forward to conversing with Quill over breakfast, rather than trying to avoid her company entirely.


When they finish breakfast, Miki takes a moment to brush their teeth again with their traveling toothbrush to scrape off excess food, and then the two of them brave the autumnal chill together as they walk to class. "So excited to learn about defense mechanisms for the umpteenth time," they drawl sarcastically, fiddling with the strap of their bag.

Eventually, they reach the old but well-maintained beige building, its utter vastness looming above them much the same as all the other buildings on campus, so Miki pays it little mind at this point. Still, she does take a moment to appreciate the architecture as they enter, estimating how much time went into building all of these pillars and grand staircases. While modern overhead lights were installed to brighten up the place, there are still various candlestick holders fixed to the walls, although what once likely housed actual flame-wielding candles now bears noticeably fake electric candles.

They reach auditorium D a little early, finding a seat easily amidst the sea of red velvet-lined fold-out chairs. People trickle in steadily as the minutes tick closer to eight, and she entertains herself by playing I Spy with her various acquaintances who also happen to be in the class. There's Rowan, Alivia, Tae... even Bazzie Montogomery, the energetic student vice-president, appears to have made it on time today.

Eventually, class starts and Miki practically copy and pastes the lecture slides down into their notebook, writing fervently to keep up. While typing on a computer is definitely far easier, studies show that it doesn't help you retain as much of the information as writing it down, so they have kept up the habit instilled into them from high school even as it leaves their wrist cramping.

Without warning, the room suddenly begins to shake. "Uh oh," she mutters, glancing around as the lights begin to flicker wildly. The room erupts into noise and their professor attempts to hide his own panic as he urges them to remain calm. The building is old, but its structure is well-supported and restoration has left it modern in all of the important ways, so the likelihood of something falling on them isn't strong, but the threat isn't nonexistent. For a brief moment, she's overcome with a surge of wooziness. Is she about to have a panic attack? "S-Shit," she gasps, leaning forward in her seat with her head in her hands. But the feeling is gone as soon as it came, and almost right after it clears, so too does the shaking come to a sudden and jarring halt.

They take steadying breaths, straightening up. "How odd," they offer weakly to Quill. Not the earthquake itself — Wales rests on a fault line, after all, so the country is no stranger to significant earthquakes. But the strength of it paired with the abruptness of its stop definitely feels mismatched. "We're probably going to be getting some aftershocks soon here."

• As you can tell if you peeked at the samples, I write in third person present tense. That's just what comes more naturally to me.

• I mostly do MxM, but I am open to anything except MxF right now.

• While I am used to writing sexual content out in detail, I don't mind fading to black or whatever makes you more comfortable. While I'm not against the idea of doing a roleplay that is pure smut, I tend to lose interest in those faster and prefer stories with an actual plot. To see more details about this, go to the NSFW section.

• I don't mind doubling.

• I don't do fandoms, but I am open to borrowing aspects of a world.

• In terms of FCs, I'm used to using realistic and semi-realistic options, but I'm not super picky. If you'd like to look at my character thread to see the types of characters I have written for in the past/currently write, here you go: [x]

• I'm pretty ghosting-friendly. I know life can get busy, and motivation can get sapped, and I won't hold it against you if you disappear without a word for a long while and then pop back up again. However, if you lose interest in the story, feel free to tell me! I will not be offended, I assure you. We can plot out something new, or we can carry on our merry ways.

• I don't mind writing in PMs or threads.
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EXPECTATIONS
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• Not a whole lot, tbh. Just be chill.

• Looking for someone with the ability to write 1000+ words per post but who has the wisdom to know when 200 words are sufficient.

• As long as I can understand what you're saying, I don't mind spelling and grammar mistakes. We all make them.

• While I don't require that you write in the present tense, I'd prefer that you write in the third person.

• Please actively contribute to the progression of the story. If I'm the only one pushing the action along, I tend to lose interest very quickly.

• Please have some idea of what you'd like to do before reaching out to me. It can be kind of irritating to hear the question "what ideas do you have?" when half of this thread is dedicated to stating my ideas.

• On that note, you're not limited to the list of ideas I have presented! If you have your own plot that you've been eager to write out, feel free to reach out to me about that as well!
PLOTS, PAIRINGS, TROPES
Green highlight means that's the role I'd prefer to play.
Titles marked with '***' are the ideas I'm most eager to write.
Strikethrough titles means that idea is currently being used, and while this doesn't mean the prompt is completely off-limits, it does mean I might be rather hesitant to use it again.

plots

Paying for Love

Character A is a sex worker who happens upon the wealthy but naive Character B in a popular pick-up place. Character B mistakenly believes Character A is just being friendly. They go back to Character B's place, where the reality of the situation is exposed. Character B offers to pay Character A for the night but asks only for conversation, and then wakes up with a missing wallet and a cheeky note from Character A. Character B winds up tracking Character A down... but only to ask them on a date?

Understand Me, Be My Friend


Set during the 19th century, Character A is a soldier with PTSD and no home. He is housed and cared for at the camp thanks to the general, an old friend (or a family member, whichever). Character B is the newest volunteer added to the medical staff. He is eager to serve the cause, although he regrets having to leave his lover whom he thinks he loves very much. Although her continued hesitancy to leave her husband often saddens him, he maintains frequent contact with her. Character B overhears Character A having an episode upstairs, learns of his condition, and provides him with some books to read for entertainment. Character A winds up becoming obsessed with Character B the nicer Character B is to him, but when Character A tries to make a move, Character B is repelled.
• Basically a gay version of Stephen Sondheim's Passion with some tweaks. I highly suggest reading the synopsis for that story.​

The Love-Hate Square

Character A is in love with Character B. Both are self-serving, manipulative, and obsessive assholes. Character B likes Character C, but Character C is dating Character D. Character B asks Character A to get Characters C and D to break up. Character A starts stalking and interacting with Character D to get them away from Character C. Character D mistakes this attention as attraction and eventually falls for Character A. Character A is not happy about it.
• Stalking is a significant component of this plot, but additional dark aspects can be discussed.​

Stuck in a Romance Novel?!

Recently dead, Character A somehow wakes up stuck in the terribly cliché — and thoroughly popular — romance novel that they’d actively despised before their death. Stuck as the protagonist with the pining and admittedly attractive Character B as the love interest, Character A tries to defy the story and avoid falling in love.
• The story may have merged with Character A's original life, leading certain roles to be filled in by people that Character A knew from their world. For example, Character B might be someone that Character A had previously disliked.​

The Bastard Next Door

Character A is a hardworking trade school type who lives alone in the house they worked hard to buy. Nextdoor, Character B is your typical college student living in a house with some friends, and they love to host house parties. Character A despises these parties, which are always way too loud. Character B despises Character A for constantly leaving trash in their shared driveway. After a drunkard at one of Character B's parties throws up on Character A's car, Character A decides to confront Character B in the crowd.

The Value of Touch

Two roommates-turned-friends who are severely touch-starved for one reason or another find solace in establishing a platonic, physically affectionate relationship. Complications ensue.

My Friend Died... And Now They're Hot?


Character A witnesses the death of their best friend, Character B. In the middle of mourning, a stranger shows up at their home claiming to be Character B. Apparently, they died at the same time someone else killed themself, and now they are stuck in that other person's body. Both characters have to learn to adjust to Character B's new life or find a way to switch Character A back. But would that kill them entirely? And is it just Character A, or is Character B's new body looking fine as hell?

Can We Try Again?

Character A and Character B used to be friends with harbored romantic feelings, but after some horrible event, they became enemies. Character A gets in an accident and loses their memory of that event. Character B, regretful and missing them, rushes to take care of them. Character A is surprised by the affectionate care and asks if they have started dating since the last point they can remember. Unable to tell the truth about their relationship, Character B says yes. Now they have to live with the guilt of that lie.

Happy Coronation, Have a Harem


Character A is the newly crowned king after the death of his (pretty shitty) father. Unbeknownst to Character A, his father, knowing about Character A's "predilection" for men and reluctance to take a wife, ordered upon his death bed to have a harem of men made for Character A to "play with" in exchange for taking a wife and having an heir. Character A does not appreciate the surprise coronation gift. However, because these men were kidnapped from enemy territories after their towns were ransacked, they can't go home. Feeling guilty and responsible for them, Character A lets them stay in the palace and enjoy the luxuries like any other guests. But is it a good idea to keep several men who hate him under the same roof with him? Perhaps he can befriend them if he tries hard enough.

Road Trip with a Stranger

What it says on the tin. Character A is going through a rough patch in life and decides to run away on a road trip. Along the way, they meet Character B, who insanely agrees to join them on the adventure.

Death is Dumb

After developing a new system for ferrying souls, Death is rendered useless. It is forced into an eternal slumber beneath the ground through the combined efforts of Heaven and Hell. After a witch's resurrection spell goes wrong, Death awakens. It turns out Death is a pretty chill entity and is somewhat stupid after centuries of being asleep. The witch is glad they survived the encounter but is less enthused about basically having to babysit the grim reaper.

For The Tax Benefits

Your classic 'two friends with a terrible history of relationships promise to get married if neither of them has a significant other by the time they're both thirty.’ However, Characters A and B made that promise when they were twenty-two, and they haven't seen each other in 6 years. When Character B reaches out to Character A on their thirtieth birthday about fulfilling the promise, Character A has little reason to refuse. However, it seems both of them have changed a lot in the time they've been apart. Will this marriage even work out? Well, at least they get the tax benefits.

Who You Were ***

Character A is hired to be a secret ghostwriter for Character B's autobiography and slowly falls in love with Character B as they find out more about their history.

Say the Word

A neurolinguist tries to write a love poem for the object of their affections and ends up accidentally creating a love spell.
• They could read it aloud to their crush, who falls for them​
• They could give it to their crush and their crush leads it aloud, making the person with them fall for them​
• It could somehow wind up with someone entirely unrelated to these two characters and cause chaos for that person instead​

ḛ̸̛̻̜͍̖͊͂̎͒͂̎̔͋̈́̊͂̎͜r̴̠̈́̀́͝r̶͉̼̖̥̪̭̙̱̂̃̑̒͆̈͝ó̴̤͎̞̜̙̓͊͠ṛ̷̨̢͍̺̺̫͙͎̭̫̚

Based on Detroit: Become Human. Character A, who prefers to avoid androids because they find them unsettling, is gifted an android as a personal assistant. The android, Character B, winds up slowly becoming deviant as the result of falling for Character A, but can't admit anything is wrong, lest Character A get rid of them.

Fate Works in Mysterious Ways


In a world where everyone is born knowing how their lives will go, Character A is given the short end of the stick. However, when they are mistaken for someone else by Character B, they are given the opportunity to have everything they were never supposed to. But how long can they keep up the act? Can fate truly be changed?

Two Weeks

Character A goes to a foreign country to visit their long-distance partner for two weeks, but when Character A quickly finds evidence that their partner has been cheating on them, a fight ensues. Character A is kicked out of their partner's home and onto foreign streets, where they are swiftly pickpocketed as they try to find a place to stay. Character B finds Character A crying on a bench, and feeling bad for their situation, decides to give them a place to stay and the promise of giving them a proper two-week vacation.

Haunted

Character A thinks they've won the jackpot when they manage to get their hands on an old abandoned but well-maintained mansion when the housing market crashes, only to discover that one of the previous tenants still lives there. Character B is a ghost trapped inside the home in which they died just trying to live out their afterlife in as much peace as possible, but now they have to deal with some nosy human?

Haunted 2.0 ***

Character A has been haunted by tragedy for many years of their life, one of the biggest things being the death of their parents and being forced to move away from their best friend, Character B. The biggest thing, though, is when Character B died years later. After over a decade, Character A moves back to their old family home saved by their grandfather and inherited after the man's death. However, it seems they're not entirely alone. Their best friend, Character B, appears to be haunting the place. Or is that just their imagination and grief seeing things?

Whatever It Takes

Character A and Character B have been close friends since childhood, with the possibility of being more looming over them. Eventually, Character B leaves town either for college, family, or some other reason, leaving Character A alone. During their time apart, Character A winds up falling victim to a demonic haunting they can't seem to shake. Character A implores Character B to help, leading Character B to return with the promise to help them at any cost.

Eternal Mating Dance

A.K.A. "What the fuck, Claude?!" based on these tumblr posts: [x]. Characters A and B are immortal, whether creatures of the night or some cursed or some other occult, and they've been secretly in love for centuries, but neither of them has ever said anything. One day, Character A stumbles upon a love letter addressed to them with very familiar handwriting and an even more familiar writer.

Quite the Stand Up Guy, Stood You Up Least Twelve Times ***



Character A and Character B were childhood best friends with blooming romantic feelings. When Character A confesses to Character B before leaving for college, though, Character B panics and rejects him. Despite Character A's attempts to contact Character B after leaving, Character B doesn't respond, leaving Character A to grieve the loss of their friendship. Eventually, Character A moves on with his life, but Character B never forgets him, eventually realizing his own feelings and resenting his past self. With no way to contact him, though, Character B can only stew in his remorse and try to move forward. One day, though, he happens upon Character A by chance. With his husband.

Til Marriage Do Us Part ***


Character A is in love with his childhood best friend Character B, but he's never had the guts to confess. Now, Character B is engaged to be wed. Character B's fiance does not like Character A, and Character A knows that once Character B is married, they'll likely barely be in each other's lives anymore. He wants to avoid the wedding with everything in him, but there's one big problem; he's supposed to be the best man.

pairings

• Succubus/Incubus x Asexual
• Cupid x Fuckboy
Serial Killer/Victim/Detective x Detective
• Criminal x Criminal
• Artist x Muse
Pirate Captain x Captured/Runaway Royal/Noble
• Prince x Gardener/Knight/Prince
Priest/Angel x Demon/Angel
• Demon x Contractor
• Vampire x Vampire Hunter
• Obsessive Shapeshifter x Object of Obsession
• Farmer x Elemental
• Witch x Familiar
• Agoraphobic Person x Adventurous Person
• Hero x Villain
• Ghost x Human
• Barista/Customer x Mysterious Musician
• Artist/Writer x Their Creation ***
• Merfolk x Sailor
• Android x Human
• Someone With DID x Their Beloved(s)
• Doctor/Medical Assistant x Case Study (prefer this to be set before modern-day) ***
• Bodyguard/Caregiver x Charge
• People With Visible Disabilities
• Employer x Loyal Employee
• Immortal x Time Traveler
• Country Person x City Person
• Punk x Nerd (NOT Nerd x Bully)
• Famous Person x Bodyguard/Fan
• Tutor x Underclassman

tropes

• Enemies to Lovers
• Childhood/Best Friends to Lovers
• Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers
• Size Differences
• Period Gay Shit™
• Forbidden Love
Soulmates
• Reincarnation
• Fake Relationship/Marriage of Convenience
• Obsession
• Stalking
• Kidnapping
• Haunted Locations
• Hanahaki
• Curses
• Revenge
• Misunderstandings
• Prophetic/Shared Dreams
• Stuck Together/Forced Proximity
• Amnesia
• Secret Admirer
• Mistaken Identity/Disguise/Cyrano
• Returning Home and Finding It Very Different
• Friends Reunited
• Happy to Serve
• Playing Hard to Get/Attracted to What You Can't Have
image
NSFW
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I'm open to sex scenes in all of my stories, to whatever degree, but I thought I'd put the more sex-centric stuff here. Keep in mind that my 'yes' list is just a list of things I enjoy and am willing to write, it doesn't mean that these things must be included in the story.

I play any position (top, bottom, versatile) and any dominance level (dominant, submissive, switch). Personality is a separate thing from sexual preferences.

I'm a huge fan of dirty talk in my smut, and I ask that you give me at least the basics of what kind of dirty talk you enjoy and what kind makes you uncomfortable (e.g., do you like using BDSM dynamic titles like 'Sir,' 'Daddy,' etc? Do you enjoy or detest calling an asshole a pussy? Do you prefer graphic narration or does that gross you out?) so that I don't accidentally say something that disturbs you. Similarly, if there are certain things about the actual physicality of sex that you'd prefer not to be graphic about, please let me know that as well.

My 'yes's and 'no's:
YES
• BONDAGE
• SENSATION PLAY
• IMPACT PLAY
• ORGASM CONTROL/DENIAL
• SENSORY DEPRIVATION
• BREATH CONTROL
• DISCIPLINE/REINFORCEMENT
• CONDITIONING
• HUMILIATION/DEGRADATION
• PRAISE
• BODY WORSHIP
• SEMI-PUBLIC SEX
• CROSSDRESSING
• LINGERIE
• FEMINIZATION
• ORIENTATION PLAY
• WARDROBE MALFUNCTION
• STRIPTEASE
• SEX TOYS
• APHRODISIACS
• PHEROMONES
• SOUNDING
• NIPPLE PLAY
• HAND WORSHIP
• FINGERING
• FROTTING
• INTERCRURAL SEX
• HOTDOGGING
• FACE-FUCKING
• RIMMING
• ANAL
• DOUBLE PENETRATION
• EDGING
• DOM/SUB UNIVERSE
• I much prefer this to Omegaverse, although I don't mind borrowing certain aspects of Omegaverse like scenting, biting, and knotting.​
• MIND BREAK
• BITING
• CUM PLAY
• COCK WARMING
• SEXUAL EXHAUSTION
• SEXUAL FRUSTRATION
MAYBE
• PUBLIC SEX
• COERCION/BLACKMAIL
• I prefer long-con games of seduction and manipulation that persuade a hesitant individual into consensually engaging in sex.​
• HYPNOSIS
• Specifically in the case where you cannot force a hypnotized person to do so something they don't already want to do.​
• LIGHT WATERSPORTS
• Pretty much exclusively in the case of either pissing on someone as a humiliation tactic or accidentally pissing oneself during intense sex.​
• I am only willing to use this in two scenes at most.​
• LACTATION
• LIGHT FOOT FETISH
• PET PLAY
• MASTER/SLAVE
NO
• UNDERAGE
• AGEPLAY
• BEASTIALITY
• INCEST
• RAPE
• NECROPHILIA
• MUTILATION
• ABUSE
• FILTH
• INFLATION
• ANYTHING GROSSLY UNREALISTIC
• VORE
• FURRIES
• MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL X CLIENT
• As someone who works in the field, it just leaves me feeling icky on a personal level.​


A few samples of moments from smut scenes I've written:
SAMPLE 1 - SWITCH GANGSTERS IN LOVE, CONSENSUAL
Julian is immensely glad for having pulled back to watch the other man’s face, because the way it contorts in pleasure is brilliant. Not to mention the cute little sound that Marius makes at the gesture. It does indeed feel good, Julian can agree. He moves to do it again, wanting to encourage more of those noises, more of that trembling, but the request that he waits grinds him to an immediate halt. His eyes flit back up from where they’d fallen to observe their closeness to find Marius’s face again, concerned that he might be doing something wrong. Thankfully, Marius doesn’t seem displeased, but his eyes are staring rather fixedly at Julian’s crotch. Julian knows he’s blushing, but he can’t help the slight self-consciousness that runs through him. To be the object of such scrutiny is as terrifying as it is worthy of celebration.

He goes pliant beneath the other man’s touch, gladly letting him guide him down against the bed and adjust him as he sees fit. He can only guess what Marius intends to do, but all of the possible scenarios cause his erection to twitch. He’s infinitely relieved that the movement is made rather indiscernible beneath the last layer he’s wearing. Suddenly, Marius’s lips are on him, and he can’t stop the way his fingers ball in the sheets beneath him and his lips part on a gasp. He feels suddenly like he’s on fire, but not in any unpleasant way. It doesn’t feel like a cigarette burn, but something more like the flame of a candle spreading from his core to the tips of fingers and toes. One of his hands uncurls to find purchase in Marius’s hair, careful not to pull too hard. He watches with rapt attention as the man moves down his body, closer and closer to where it wants him most. Is he actually going to...?

The question sends a jolt of arousal threw him, knocking the breath from his chest. And the way Marius is looking at him, oh Lord help him. His head feels increasingly light, almost fuzzy like television static. It’s a familiar feeling, but it has never been this pleasant with anyone else. It’s never happened because of a simple look like this. Just the prospect of those lips stretched around him is enough to affect him this much... remarkable, really. “Go ahead,” he encourages, scratching his nails lightly over his scalp. He’d be hard-pressed to deny Marius anything that he wants, let alone something like this.

• • • • •

Julian’s eyes may very well pop out of their sockets with how wide they grow, shocked by the display in front of him. He hadn’t expected anything quite like this, but fuck, he’s not complaining. They’ve barely started, and yet here Marius is with his cock exposed and fucking leaking, legs spread wide as if begging Julian to come and fill him, and drool trailing down his chin. It’s perhaps the most incredible sight Julian has ever seen. “Fuck, Marius,” he gasps, frozen as he watches the man pleasure himself. He’s so vocal, too, and Julian can’t stop his own hand from palming himself through his trousers. “So good, darling, you look so good,” he praises with a growl, “Like a bitch in heat.” He has half a mind to push Marius back and take him now, show him an even greater pleasure, but he knows he can’t yet. As desperate as he feels, he doesn’t want to hurt the other man.

The sight of the man’s excessive precum makes him shudder, and Julian decides that he wants to make him so wet he feels like a whore. Julian quite likes that idea; Marius being his whore. Desperate for his cock, unable to cum without it. It fills him with a twisted sense of satisfaction. “Who would have thought that The Kid, such a notoriously ruthless criminal, would be such a slut for his boss,” he grins, chuckling darkly. “I bet it feels wonderful to let go like this, hm?” He strokes Marius’s face gently, reverentially. “You’re such a good boy, Marius,” he purrs, knowing that Marius has always thrived off of his praise, “So good to me. I ought to reward you properly, shouldn’t I?”

Anything else he wants to say promptly fizzles out of his brain when Marius stops touching himself to tug down his boxers, his erection springing out of the confines already dribbling. The cold that rushes over his sensitive skin is unpleasant, but it’s replaced rather quickly by Marius’s hot breath. Julian watches, anticipating, slightly worried by the other man’s pause. But then his tongue is on him, and Julian tosses his head back with a moan, grip tightening in the other man’s hair. Marius moves so expertly, so teasingly, that Julian would yell at him if it didn’t feel so damn good. He tries his damn hardest to keep his hips still, eyes fluttering open and shut as he revels in the pleasure. “That’s perfect, love,” he pants, “Keep doing that —“ He moans when his length is suddenly sliding down Marius’s throat, the muscles contracting around him deliciously. His hips buck involuntarily, and Julian manages a quick apology. The lewd noises Marius is making is maddening, and Julian has to wonder if this is an ultimate test of his resolve.

“You’re doing such a good job, Marius. Get it nice and wet for me, okay? Then I’ll stretch you out on my fingers before I slip it inside you. Would you like that, my dear?” He watches Marius’s face, admiring the way he looks with his lips around him like this. He trails his gaze down the length of his beautiful back, curved not unlike a cat and legs still spread like a horny dog. Quite animalistic, and absolutely tempting. He stares quite obviously at the man’s ass, raised in the air like an offering. Oh, he wants to make him feel so good he forgets his own name. Wants to make him see stars.

• • Bottoming • •

Julian finally adjusts to the sensation, eagerly chasing that high implicitly promised to him as he fucks himself on Marius’s finger. “Oh yeah?” he purrs, slightly cocky at the idea of a repressed Marius touching himself to countless thoughts of having his boss beneath him. “Then I guess you better deliver on your fantasies,” he chuckles, slightly breathless. When Marius removes his finger, Julian is only given a moment of confusion before he finds himself guided on to his back, elbows keeping him as high above water level as he can be while Marius rearranges him. Julian swallows thickly at the intimacy of the position, clutching his trembling thigh as he watches his lover’s beautiful face wracked with hunger. He expects the finger to return, so when Marius is suddenly pressing his cock against him, he inhales sharply. “O-Oh,” he sputters stupidly, anxiety spiking. Not having lube was one thing, but Marius had barely even prepared him. Still, the desire on Marius’s face was enchanting, and the sound that falls from his lips positively sinful in its sway over Julian’s heart. “Alright, go ahead,” he allows.

He’d completely forgotten about the guards outside, and the reminder sends a jolt of... something through him. Worry, certainly, but something else, too. Something that makes his own cock twitch against his stomach. He nods his understanding, unable to speak as Marius takes a steadying breath. And then suddenly he’s entering him, and the burn of it causes Julian to cry out instinctively. He claps a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might fight off the stinging pain. “So big,” he whines into his hand. He somehow feels stuffed to his toes, like he might just burst at the seams any second. “You’re going to tear my ass like this,” he complains, only slightly upset. He can feel every inch of Marius’s cock inside him, hot and throbbing with arousal. What a fascinating thing. “It’s like I can feel your heartbeat in my ass.” He tries for jovial, but it comes out more whiny than he’d intended. But who can blame him when Marius is so deep inside him, pressing against his insides? Julian has little time to adjust before Marius warns him that’s going to move. “W-Wait — shit!” His back arches slightly as Marius begins to move, a gradual heat filling him from toe tip to hair follicle that has Julian feeling like he’s going to melt away.

Marius’s movements are slow, and Julian’s hips move of their own accord, the both of them rolling together like gentle waves. Julian manages to keep himself quiet, even as the pain slowly ebbs away into pleasure. Marius suddenly changes up their position, bending Julian in a way that Julian didn’t realize his body was capable of. Suddenly Marius comes at him more aggressively, the snap of his hips at this new angle driving him even deeper than before in a way that has Julian gasping. Marius eventually hits what Julian can only imagine is his prostate, and the cry that flies out of his mouth is completely involuntary as his head and eyes roll back. “There, right there, Marius,” he gasps, biting a knuckle to keep himself quiet. His thighs are beginning to ache where Marius is clutching them, holding him at his mercy as he fucks him relentlessly. Julian is surprised to find he doesn’t really mind the sense of powerlessness. Not so long as Marius keeps making him feel like this.

“God, Marius,” he croons, raising a shaky hand to caress his lover’s flushed face. Marius somehow manages to look both wrecked and composed, and Julian envies his abilities. He knows he must look like a disaster, himself. His vision keeps swimming, and he has to close his eyes against it as he moans uncontrollably. He doesn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. Suddenly Marius’s fingers are in his mouth, and Julian bites at them automatically before caressing them with his tongue apologetically. The sound of their skin slapping together was the lewdest, sexiest thing he’d ever heard, amplified by the sloshing liquid around them. He sucks on Marius’s fingers to prevent his voice from slipping out as anything more than soft vibrations.

Within an instant, everything stops, and Julian’s eyes fly open in concern and frustration at the sudden emptiness inside of him. “Why did you stop?” he asks, but then he’s being manhandled into a new position, gasping as the coldness of the wall presses against his front. Marius traps him there between the wall and his chest, and swiftly enters him once more. Julian sobs, his weeping erection rubbing against the wall with every hard thrust from Marius. He clutches desperately at the hand around his throat, feverish forehead resting against the cool wall. “So good,” he praises, “You feel so good.” He rolls back against him, trying to pull him deeper and deeper. “Harder,” he pants, “Deeper. Give me everything, darling.”
SAMPLE 2 - SEMI-SADISTIC DADDY DOM TOP, FEMINIZATION AND HUMILIATION WARNING, CONSENSUAL
Anton can't help but smile into the kiss when Mika starts responding earnestly, clearly thinking he has something to prove. He should probably be flattered that Mika cares so much about his opinion. The blond is a great kisser, but he'd rather expected him to be after all the playboy gossip he'd heard about. He's probably kissed dozens of women like this. Is Anton the first man? It's wrong to assume and all that, but given Mika's reactions to his flirtations, it seems like there's a strong possibility that he's never done anything with a man before. The idea that he's the first gives him a strange sort of thrill, even if Mika only began kissing him because of a lost bet.

He matches pace with Mika, content to savor the teasing nips and slides of tongue. His mind briefly flickers over to the timer. How much time has passed now? It can't be all that long. He's brought back to the moment when Mika begins rubbing his chest, which is warm if not all that stimulating for him. To reward the gesture, he catches Mika's tongue and suckles on it briefly in a move that has usually made his partners go more weak-kneed in the past. He runs his hands all along Mika's soft body, firm in their grip as though he were massaging him but turning gentle and teasing in the instances where he dips down near his ass and groin. Eventually, he dawdles at the man's soft chest, thumbing his nipples with practiced fingers. He draws back a hair's breadth to ask, "Do you like having your nipples played with?"

• • • • •

Well, it’s not a straightforward answer, but it’s still an answer nonetheless. He thinks about refuting the statement — he didn’t technically say that, but it seems unnecessary given how little resistance Mika is showing. In fact, the blond seems quite happy, judging by the bulge he can feel rubbing against him. He chuckles lowly, undoing the belt on Mika’s robe to get a good view of his arousal. ”You’re so cute. Look how hard you’ve gotten over a man touching your tits a little,” he teases, running his hands up and down Mika’s plush thighs as he leans in to murmur in his ear. ”But that’s okay. Can you feel how your cute noises are making me hard, too?” he asks, thrusting his hips upward to grind himself against the blond.

Before Mika can get much of a response in, he conquers his mouth again. He reaches under the pillow for the lube he’d moved there while Mika was in the shower, sneakily popping the cap and pouring a bit on his fingers. He warms it up between his hands— gentleman, remember? — and returns to toying with Mika’s nipples, which is a lot easier now that they’ve gotten harder. He pinches and pulls and rubs the sensitive skin until it’s flushed red and puffy. He breaks away from the kiss, noting the string of saliva that briefly connects them before it breaks. “You have such girly nipples,” he hums, flicking the rock-hard buds. “They look like little clits. Tell me, when I play with them, which twitches more, your clit or your pussy?”

• • • • •

He wants to fuck Mika so badly it's beginning to get a little painful, the stimulation of grinding against the blond's soft cheeks not nearly enough. He just looks so cute, his hair and robe both in disarray and seemingly every part of his body alight with red-tinged arousal. The needy sounds he's making are like gospel, and he can only imagine how much sweeter he'll get once he's inside him. Which likely won't take too long with how little restraint Mika seems to have left. "Where's all that fight you had before? Did it ooze out with your slick?" he teases, running a fingertip oh-so-lightly up the underside of the prominent wet bulge in his briefs.

"You're right; you're not a girl. But that doesn't change anything."He slips Mika's robe off entirely before flipping them over with ease so that Mika is on his back amongst the pillows. "Let me show you," he begins, yanking the man's soiled underwear off and tossing them into the void beyond their shared bed, and pinning the smaller man's legs wide open with his knees. "See, most men are born with cocks meant for breeding. Like me." He grabs the discarded lube and begins applying it on his pulsing erection liberally. "And some men, like you, are born with pussies meant to be bred by those cocks," he finishes matter-of-factly, laying over him to press their erections together. "Look at how much my cock dwarfs you," he taunts, rubbing their glands together in a way that sends electricity sparking down his spine. "This is what a real cock looks like. This thing between your legs doesn't even compare, does it? And look how much it loves having a cock rub against it. So what else could it be except a clit?"

He smiles in his usual charming way before ducking down to kiss him again, speeding up his hips to rub against him mercilessly. He breaks away eventually for air, leaving open-mouthed kisses along Mika's jaw before finding a home at his neck. "Doesn't this feel amazing? You love having a man's cock rubbing against you, don't you?" he baits, nipping at the man's pulse point before latching on and sucking a mark for Mika to find tomorrow.

• • • • •

Well, there's that fight again. He can't help but laugh at his weak attempt at rejection. "Are you really going to keep lying when you're soaking wet and shaking your hips like a slut? Not very convincing. But oh well." He sighs, sitting back on his haunches and staring down at him, keeping Mika's legs spread but giving him no friction despite his desperate rutting. He grabs both of the blond's hands, pinning them above his head with one of his own. With the other hand, he strokes himself idly, disappointed gaze fixed on Mika writhing beneath him. "Only good, honest boys get Daddy's cock. Lying little whores get nothing. So we're going to sit here until your clit softens and then we're going to go to bed. But if you tell the truth and ask nicely for Daddy to pound your pussy, I'll forgive you."

He has to fight back the sadistic smirk threatening to spill on his face, trying to look every part the upset dominant. Not that he isn't upset, of course — he's achingly hard and would much rather be sinking into the heat of Mika at this very moment instead of dealing with this pause, but it is what it is. He doubts Mika will be able to hold out for very long, so it's only a matter of time. And if Mika somehow manages to hold it together, he still gets to masturbate while Mika doesn't, so he's at least getting something out of it.
SAMPLE 3 - GENTLE TOP, SUPERNATURAL CHARACTER, VOYEURISM, TELEKINETIC COMMANDS, SEX TOYS, APHRODISIACS, FEMINIZATION, CUM WORSHIP, CONSENSUAL
After a moment, Era creeps as soundlessly out of his room as possible and over to the man's door, peeking through the crack to get his reactions. They're predictably hilarious, and he wonders if the man might just shove them under the bed in a huff. Maybe he'll scream at him tomorrow for the audacity and make him watch as he dumps the toys in the trash. He doesn't though, instead snatching up one of the various lubes and saying he'll use it. He turns toward the door and Era has to move as quickly and quietly back into his room as he can. He heads into the bathroom, seemingly with the lube, and Era waits to see if he can hear anything through the door, but there's nothing. Odd.

He heads back into his room, peeking carefully through the crack to survey the hallway. Finn eventually makes his way across, glistening noticeably. It looks like he's rubbed the lube all over his body. Wait... does he think it's lotion? And judging by the lingering scent in the air, he'd used the cherry one, which if he remembers correctly, was one of the ones infused with aphrodisiac. Oh, this is going to be quite the show. Grabbing his fleshlight, he waits for Finn to disappear behind his door again, walking over and peering through the crack. Nothing particularly interesting happens at first, as the man just heads to bed. That's not going to happen with how much lube he just put on.

Sure enough, he eventually starts thrashing around and stifling moans, the effects of the liquid beginning to kick in. Once he finally sits up and frees his cock, Era begins to stroke himself in tandem, basking in the man's sky-high libido and the friction of his hand until he's just as hard. He thrusts into the fleshlight, matching Finlay's languid hand movements with his hips. They continue like this for some time, though every time Finlay nears orgasm, he suddenly backs off. Does he have an edging kink? Erasmus, though, lets his orgasm rip through him, soaking the insides of the fleshlight more and more as time goes on. Like a moron, Finn keeps applying the lube, apparently still ignorant that it's the thing causing his intense arousal. Or, maybe he does know, and is doing it on purpose. Suddenly, the man calls his name, and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep from moaning in response.

With Erasmus seemingly on his brain, he suddenly turns submissive, rolling onto his belly and raising his hips like a desperate whore. Is he imagining Era splitting him open on his thick cock? The idea has him cumming again. Why Finn hasn't used the dildo yet is beyond him, given how much it would lend to his fantasy. He'd even specifically picked out one the same size as him. The only thing it wouldn't be able to do is breed him. Looks like he could use a hand.

Using his power of suggestion, the only one that he can use without touching someone, he speaks telepathically to him. You look gorgeous like this, Finn, all aching and ready to be bred. Spread your legs further for me, baby. You want my cock? I need you to loosen your pussy first, can you do that for me, baby? Use some more of that lotion and finger your hole until it's soft and wet. Can you do that for me?

• • • • •

He almost laughs when Finlay originally misses his hole in his daze, but he gets there, although he tries to go in with two fingers immediately. Wait, don't use two of them yet, baby. I know you're eager, but you've gotta let your pussy get used to being stretched for the first time, otherwise you'll hurt yourself. Go ahead and rub your fluttering rim. Do you feel that tingling? Go ahead and relax into it. When you're ready, slip your middle finger inside as far as you can.

He watches Finlay like a hawk until he's slipped the finger in. Yeah, just like that, good boy. I know it feels weird, but I promise it'll start feeling amazing soon. Is your hole starting to itch? You can scratch it, go ahead and start moving it in and out... good. Does that feel good? Yeah. Now, I want you to crook your finger downward. After a moment, Finlay spasms, a clear indication that he's found his prostate. "Good boy! Did you like that? That's your G-spot. Go ahead and keep rubbing it, angel. Fuck, you look so pretty writhing in heat like this. I can't wait to pound your cute pussy. Are you excited? Yeah, I can tell you are. You're dripping like a faucet, you slut. So adorable. Go ahead and stick another finger in... now start scissoring your fingers. Perfect. You're doing such a good job following Mister's instructions. My little submissive bitch. You're making such pretty noises, don't hold them in, I want to hear them.

Giving him a moment to keep working on himself, he uses the time that he's distracted to approach, setting down the full-once-more fleshlight and the dildo beside him. He goes back behind the door afterward, not wanting to risk Finlay being cognizant enough to realize this isn't just all in his head. Okay, go ahead and work a third finger in... Very good job, Finn. I'm so proud of you. As a reward, I got you some gifts. Look to your left. I know you love Mister's cock milk, so I'm giving you some to enjoy while you work yourself open for me.

Unfortunately, though, now he doesn't have anything to catch his inevitable ejaculations, so he has to hurry to his room and grab a cloth that he can use to catch any spilling. The sight he sees when he returns is incredible, and he has to squeeze down on his dick to stop from cumming then and there. You're so damn sexy, do you know that? My cock is so hard just from watching you. Do you think you're ready for it? Go ahead and take your fingers out. Mm, your pussy is so soft and wet now, my cock should slide in easily. It's spasming, too. You must be aching, you poor thing. Do you need Mister to fill you up? Go ahead and beg me for it.

Grinning as Finlay obediently does just that, he approaches him from behind cautiously, grabbing the dildo and lubing it up before rubbing it against his gaping entrance teasingly. Grabbing one of Finlay's hands, he guides it to wrap around the wet toy, aiming it so that the very tip is pressing into him. If you want it so bad, go ahead and push it inside you.


Green highlight means that's the role I'd prefer to play.
Titles marked with '***' are the ideas I'm most eager to write.
Strikethrough titles means that idea is currently being used, and while this doesn't mean the prompt is completely off-limits, it does mean I might be rather hesitant to use it again.

plots

I Fucked with You Once Upon a Dream


Character A has been having on-and-off erotic dreams involving the same stranger for weeks, despite having a significant other. Still, the sex is pretty great, so they start looking into how to lucid dream. One day, they happen across someone who looks exactly like the person in their dreams.

Silver-Tongued

A sex-centric version of my Say the Word plot. A neurolinguist (un)intentionally creates a spell that acts as a powerful aphrodisiac on whoever hears it.

Doctor! Doctor!

Character A is struggling with erectile dysfunction and goes to Character B, a urologist, for treatment. When it turns out Character A is a bit too enthusiastic during treatment, Character B decides to have a little unethical fun in an otherwise boring job.

Unexpected Consequences ***

Character A is a self-proclaimed straight man who begins working as a waiter at a gay bar. When Character B, a rich new client, takes an interest in him, Character A agrees to let Character B have some fun with him for a hefty sum. He ends up enjoying it more than he expected, but afterward, Character B seems to have lost interest in him.

The "Ethical" Brothel

Character A is a former doctor of a reproductive health clinic whose main clientele was sex workers. Disheartened by the corrupt prostitution system of the city and how it was affecting the prostitutes who came to them, they quit their job and used their wealth to start up a brothel of their own. Their goal is to provide a much more safe, healthy work environment with plenty of screening procedures and a focus on respecting the boundaries of their employees. Character B is a cop tasked with infiltrating and busting the place. Going undercover as a prostitute, Character B winds up with plenty of face-to-face contact with Character A. But when Character A isn't what Character B expected, what will Character B do?

Cupid's Arrow ***

Character A is a closeted queer individual in denial who has the women he fucks peg him and/or who is anally masturbating in secret. Because of the string of broken hearts Character A has left behind and his own conflicted heart, a cupid, Character B, gets sent to sort Character A's shit out. Character B winds up moving in with Character A since he's looking for a new roommate and they become friends, but when Character B's normal attempts to get him to come out and get a steady partner keep failing, he eventually takes more drastic measures. Knowing that Character A is sexually attracted to him, Character B brings up hypnotism to Character A one night and suggest they try it on each other as a joke. Character A, thinking it's bullshit, agrees. Using his abilities to hypnotize people (but with the rule that he can't make them do something they don't want to, or else they'll snap out of it), he hypnotizes Character A and they ultimately have sex. Afterward, Character A becomes Very Horny for Character B™ but keeps trying to justify it as the lingering effects of the hypnosis.

Your Dick is Mine

Based on this absolutely unhinged moment in history: [x]. Character A has a secret forced chastity kink that they indulge in with an internet-connected chastity cage. Character B is a hacker who manages to take control of the device (whether out of boredom or a personal grudge against Character A) and uses the situation to put Character A at their mercy.

A Recording Will Last Longer


Character A is a gamer (or streamer, etc) who accidentally leaves their audio (and/or video) on while they masturbate. Character B witnesses and records the whole thing and uses the embarrassing moment to blackmail Character A.
• Alternatively, and more wholesomely, friends on a call that accidentally gets left on and Character B ends up overhearing Character A masturbating and oops, now Character B is lusting after their friend.​

Bussy

Crack treated seriously. Character A is a "straight" man who is suddenly cursed to have a vagina-like asshole that self-lubricates and dilates with arousal. This wouldn't be such a problem if Character A didn't have a nearly insatiable sex drive and too much curiosity.
• Character A could have been cursed through a variety of means and for various reasons such as through a bitter ex or a lustful wizard.
• Character B could be the person who cursed him to trick him into having sex with them, an enemy who catches him masturbating and uses it as blackmail, a friend just trying to help him clear distractions while they find a way to lift the curse, etc.​

Wrong Room

Character A and Character B are roommates. After drinking very heavily, Character A winds up mistaking Character B's room for theirs. Character B gets home in time to see Character A drunkenly masturbating and records the whole thing, using the video to blackmail Character A into doing things for them.

Teach Me ***


Character A and Character B are students at a prestigious universities. Despite not being from a wealthy family, Character A is well-known and respected throughout the school for excelling in their studies and for being an excellent tutor for the other students (albeit at a high price). Character B is currently failing one of their classes, and seeks Character A's help with studying. Not having the money to pay Character A, they strike a deal that Character B will pay for each session with their body.

Theft and Thirsting ***


Character A is happily dating his most current girlfriend, and everything seems to be going perfectly. That is until he meets her brother, Character B. As it turns out, Character B is a very openly gay man with a long history of seducing and discarding men. Having set his sights on Character A, Character B decides to seduce him away from his sister.

pairings

Incubus/Succubus/Cupid x Clergyperson
• Loan Shark/Thug x Debtor
Dom Top x Sub Bottom in Denial
• Creator x Horny Creation
• Voyeur x Exhibitionist
Pirate Captain x Hostage
• Prostitute x Client/Prostitute
• Seducer x Sister's Boyfriend

tropes

• Fighting for Dominance
• Taste of Their Own Medicine
• "100% Straight Guy" is Secretly a Cockslut
• "We Should Practice on Each Other"
• Teaching/Demonstrating
• Body Swapping
• Sex Pollen
• Bad Boy x Good Boy
• Stuck Together/Forced Proximity
• Breaking Chastity
• Lots of Stamina
• Extremely Seductive Supernatural Entities
• Sex as a Ritual
• Sex as Payment
code by wren.


ABOUT ME:

Hello, hello! I'm Wren! I accept all pronouns, but most know me as she/her. I have been roleplaying for several years now (roughly a decade or so) and I consider myself fairly good at it. I am most partial to group roleplays nowadays but I occasionally dip my toes into 1x1s.

I recently graduated from my undergrad with a BS in psychology, minoring in creative writing, and am currently preparing for eventual grad school. Besides writing, I enjoy coding, indulging in my shitty music taste, and ranting about many things. A predominant one is Nygmobblepot, and if you know what that is, feel free to PM me for group therapy. You may have noticed my affinity for the color green.

Okay, but now the part you actually want to know:

Do not expect consistency in my replying schedule. Some days I'm too busy to respond, and some days I'm just not in the mood to write. If you are looking for a partner who will reply multiple times a day, I am absolutely NOT that partner. Sometimes I can reply multiple times a day, and other times it might take me several weeks to get a reply out. The average length of our replies will also be a main factor in the speed of my replies, typically. I try to reply at least once a week.

• However, I am almost always willing to chat OOC if you are amenable.

• My word count range is generally ~200 - 3,000 words per post, although you can count on ~500 being the most frequent. I am a firm believer in quality over quantity, so no need to fluff to reach a word count. Here are some writing samples, if you'd like them:
SAMPLE 1
Shit, if he had rubbed his eyes just now he would have absolutely ruined his eye makeup. He would have screamed. So, yeah. He's bored. Transcendentally bored. How do you manage to be bored in a shop full of magical items, Cian, you might be wondering. Probably because he has worked here for some 10 years now. He knows every crystal down to its mineral composition and every spell book down to its author's notes. Sometimes they get new things in, but it doesn't take him long to understand every possible use of an item once it gets into his hands. He's always been a bit hyperfocused when it comes to studying magic and other magic-related fair.

Usually, he'd be entertaining himself with whatever customers happen to be in the store, but currently, there's no one here. It seems most people have been trying to avoid the off-and-on rain, and the fact that it's prime dinner time doesn't help matters. Then again, he can never really be sure what to expect. Customer influx is almost entirely unpredictable for a shop like this — there are so many magi in the world, practicing so many different crafts, after all. A flock of light magi might burst in during the morning or early afternoon when the sun is at its brightest and their magic at its peak, a school of water magi might trickle in to take advantage of the rain, a murder of dark magi might come when the sun is beginning to set. Then there's the matter of work and class schedules. In a city as busy as this, it's near impossible to keep track of lull times.

But here one is, and here he is, leaned back in his cushy chair behind the counter with his legs propped up on the polished glass housing various sweets and other small trinkets, watching the raindrops grow heavy and eventually fall down the shop windows. Why they even have such a wide selection of candy in such a store is beyond him — his boss had mentioned it being a method of keeping customers returning, but they don't exactly sell out of the stuff. Nobody comes here for candy.

Which means that there's plenty left for him to steal. Which he does. Quite often. Exhibit A: the sucker in his mouth. Blue raspberry. Because he's not a heathen. He's already checked his phone a million times in the last hour, and he's doubtful anyone has gotten up to anything exceptionally interesting since then. Most of it is party information. Halloween is right around the corner, after all, and then Magis Moore will follow shortly after. What's your costume this year? seems to be one of the most pertinent questions now. He's had his own planned for quite some time. What, you think a spirit magi isn't going to prepare for Halloween ahead of time? Unfortunately, he's getting up in years now, so his options are more limited than they were when he was younger. It would be a bit embarrassing walking around in those elaborate costumes of his younger years and the skimpy costumes of his 20s, so he'd gone for a simple cat costume.

Anyway, perhaps he should put on some music?

Before he can select a song from his phone, there's that familiar tinkle of the door's bell, and he glances up to see an elderly woman shuffling her way into the shop. Not their usual demographic, but he's seen so many oddities that nothing really surprises him anymore. "Good afternoon," he smiles around his sucker, removing his legs from the counter to look a little more formal. The woman says nothing. Just shuffles her slow ass through the aisles. Alright, bitch, be that way.

Jeez, she moves at a snail's pace. This is going to take a while. He tosses the now empty stick of his sucker into the nearby trashcan.


"I'm sorry, ma'am, we're out of peridot crystals."

"Can't you check in the back?"

It takes a great deal of self-restraint to keep from rolling his eyes. "I can assure you it would be a waste, I keep close tabs on our inventory," he replies coolly, grin still fixed firmly in place. Hopefully, it feels mocking.

The woman huffs, and he's surprised dust doesn't puff out with the air. "Where is your manager?" With the exaggerated flair of a waiter unveiling a dish at one of those fancy restaurants where the napkins are folded like animals, he gestures to his nametag that is proudly emblazoned with 'MANAGER.' The old bat squints, clearly taking in the word for the first time. Then she grunts indignantly as if she couldn't easily find the damn rocks elsewhere. "This is ridiculous!"

"I'll double check for you," he decides, "But don't count on anything."

He heads to the back room and proceeds to stand there in the center, doing absolutely fuck all. Of course, he's not checking the boxes. He's already well aware of what he'll find. They don't have any damn peridot. He taps his manicured nails against one of the emptier shelves as if typing on a keyboard, enjoying the clicking noise that reverberates throughout the space. After a few minutes, he heads back out to the counter, affirming that they indeed have no more peridot crystals. The old crone accepts defeat with a little grace at least and leaves after purchasing some sage.

Well, but now he's back to being bored. Jeez, at this point he might even welcome Simon and the other little shits who love to vandalize the place. Okay, they're not actually that bad. Yes, on occasion they bring in a stray who likes to steal a couple of things, but on the whole, they're pretty harmless. He's not even sure why they hang out here so much — Simon and Picus are too poor to buy anything most of the time, and Spencer usually just comes along for emotional support or something. It seems that for some reason, he was elected as one of them, and now he can't seem to shake the little fleas off. In full honesty, though, he does like them. They're like the younger siblings he never had.

Simon, though. Well. Simon is a whole other matter. Cian isn't blind, nor is he inexperienced (no, certainly not that!) — he knows when someone is infatuated with him. He can't pinpoint when exactly it happened, but it's been some years since Simon became more touchy with him, and now he's not afraid to cling to him entirely. There's also the looks he gives to the people that Cian flirts with (for the sake of sales... mostly) that speak of nothing but bitterness. It's... sweet, really. He can't say he minds it. Simon is adorable. He's a little irresponsible, but his positive attitude is something to behold. His loyalty is admirable, and, well. He's pretty easy on the eyes.

And that's exactly why Cian can't do anything about the situation. Simon is too sweet. Too kind. Cian can't just bang him and drop him like everybody else. He can't break the kid's heart like that. So he doesn't comment on it, turns his head when Simon's mismatched eyes look at him with too much affection, pretends to be oblivious to any romantic gestures. Simon's young and hot-blooded — he'll find someone else soon enough. Hopefully.

Now he just has to get through the last few hours of his shift.
SAMPLE 2
He didn't sleep well last night, but that's not unusual for him. The weight of several days of insomnia is weighing on his shoulders, threatening to drag him under the water of his too-large bathtub. Maybe that's just his heavy conscience, or, more likely, his hangover. He can't remember the last time he was able to sleep without drinking. Then again, when is he ever sober long enough to find out if he can?

Either way, it's probably the sleep deprivation that's made his movement beneath the water so enjoyable. He shifts, waves a hand to cause ripples, as entertained by the colorful reflections it creates in the soapy water as a child might be. Maybe the heat and the overwhelming stench of his bubble bath are starting to get to his head. You wouldn't expect a mix of amber wood, gardenia, and jasmine to smell all that strong, but it really intensifies when you've been in the bath for... how long has it been now? If he focuses, the water feels significantly colder than what he started with, so it must have been a while.

He only ever leaves the house for work, so when he doesn't feel like going in, time tends to cease to exist to him. He keeps the curtains almost perpetually closed to keep the sunlight out, so he can only go off the small streaks that manage to poke in through the cracks. Given that they've almost disappeared, late evening must be approaching. What did he even get done today? He'd tried to read, but he'd been unable to focus on the words, his hands and his vision shaking too severely. He'd... napped for a bit, at least. Maybe tomorrow will be better for productivity. Even if he doesn't feel well, he should at least force himself to go out. It's a fragile line between atonement and self-pity, after all.

He rubs away the burning sensation building in his throat, willing back the emotion surging back into his corpse. Focus on other things. Other things like the sound of rain tapping on the window, the knocking at the door, the creaking of the manor's old wood from the wind — wait. Knock at the door? Who the hell is that? Maybe it's Tiago on one of his surprise 'just making sure you haven't keeled over yet' visits. But in this weather?

Sighing, he steps out from the bath, toweling himself off before wrapping the cotton fabric around his waist. His reflection looks horrid, hair stringy in its washed state, and shadows under his eyes made even darker by the dim yellow light of the bathroom. He pulls the plug on the tub, listening to the gargle of the drain for a moment to make sure that it's working before he hurries down the stairway to the door. He sweeps a hand through his hair briefly to look at least somewhat presentable before the judgmental eyes of his painted predecessors on the wall. He pulls the door open without another thought, fully prepared to chastise Tiago for visiting in such conditions or to tell off one of those vulture reporters trying to dig up a decades-old story.

A reporter it is, although not one he'd expected to be on his doorstep. "Alby?" The man looks as prissy as he always does when he antagonizes him at the bakery, but his carefully-layered outfit looks much less stylish when soaked by rain. The way the wet clothes seem to hang limply from him only highlights how young he is, and he actually feels a bit bad to have kept him standing out in the rain, even if it was just for a minute or so. He raises an eyebrow, "'Are you lost, little puppy?" Only when the curly-haired brunet holds up the increasingly damp flyer does the situation click in his mind.

Right, he'd hung up several roommate advertisements around town like a week ago. It'd been a bit of a sudden whim motivated by the strong desire to fill the empty space of his house, although he hadn't expected much to come of it. He definitely wouldn't have expected Alby of all people to take him up on the offer. Still, he steps aside, gesturing him in. "You can hang up your coat on the rack there. Let me get you a towel before you make the hardwood mold."

He walks off before he hears an answer, fetching one from the small pantry room on the other side of the house before returning to offer it up to him. "Most people call first, you know."
SAMPLE 3
A part of him almost thinks it serves them all right. Not all of them, perhaps, but most of them. Hera killed his mother while he was still inside the lovely woman’s womb, and if it wasn’t for Zeus, he would have died another victim of her unnecessary and volatile wrath. But even Zeus had abandoned him to the rain nymphs on Mount Nysa. Born from fire, raised by rain; like grapes grow in the earth, as the humans said after he took dominion of them and introduced all to the sweet elixir they offered. But what did he get in return? The twice-born god, the Zeus of Nysa, who dragged his way to Olympus from Asia, and was begrudgingly accepted but forever the outsider. The only Olympian with a human mother.

Fine. If they wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, he figured he’d become impossible to ignore. And oh, did he. Festivity, ecstasy, pleasure, madness — gifting freedom from self-consciousness and all restraints to the most outcasted of beings, traversing and subverting the boundaries set by those before him. He’d died, and he’d come back. He crossed the boundary of life and death, and he walked the line of the civilized and the uncivilized, and explored the boundary of the known and the unknown. Dionysus. Eleutherios. Dionysus, The Liberator. Dionysus, Protector of Misfits. Beloved by those who received love nowhere else, and worshiped for his research that brought such a wonderful gift to the mortals. He’d earned his spot, and if they don’t want to recognize that, then let them burn.

Of course, a bigger part of him doesn’t really want that. It’s easy to throw stones when it’s all in your head, but another thing when you witness what you claimed to have wanted. Athena. Huh. He never would have expected that one. He never would have expected any of this, really. But distance allows detachment. Allows a certain objective view as he stands there in their temple of gold and marble, standing still amidst the chaos, watching this chimera tear through the historical landmarks around them. Watching it tear through them. He doesn’t want any of them to die, not even Hera, but he resigns himself to the thought that perhaps they all just might. That he just might. He’s ready for death. At least he thinks he is. Shame it has to be here and now, though. On this mountain with a group of people who’d never actually cared about him. Well… except one. But Hestia isn’t here. Dionysus had taken what was once hers and she'd left Olympus, and at least that meant that she was safe from this hellish nightmare consuming them all. As long as Hestia is safe, then there’s nothing else for him to fight for. Now is as good a time to die as any.

He watches gods cling to each other, desperate for their lovers and companions, seeking comfort in the midst of their terror. Most assuredly thinking that if they are to die, at least they shall die together. Dionysus clutches himself, nails digging into the soft flesh of his arms, and that’s enough. It has to be enough. When did he start crying?

"Take human form!”

A sudden light catches him unprepared as he tunes out the noise, but he has little time to process it before everything has changed, anyway.


When the light fades, he’s in the streets of Valencia, Spain. They are in Valencia, given the large crowd around him. All in new bodies. All with new names. His own body looks clad in the punk gear he often wears when he comes down to visit humanity. Alois Merlow Moore is the name he chose long ago for this form, and he finds it fitting. It even includes a pun, because of course it does. It becomes apparent rather quickly as everyone settles into their new bodies that Zeus is nowhere to be found. Didn't he follow them down? Actually, it looks like several people are missing. Did Zeus mess up the teleportation? Was he even the one who teleported them? It makes the most sense, given his sudden order. What are they to do now without him? Hecate speaks up soon enough, mentioning something about temporarily removing their powers. The idea sounds ridiculous, and he can already see the pushback in the tension of his fellow gods' shoulders before any of them even begin to speak. But, "I think it's a fine idea," he speaks up. When attention turns to him, he shrugs. "If it's the only way to avoid being tracked, then what other choice do we have?"

And so, it's agreed, and quickly, Alois finds himself nearly bowled over with sudden dizziness as his powers are stripped. What an odd sensation. He barely has time to process the fatigue settling into his bones before the sound of growling fills the air, and he turns to see a group of rabid methheads running at them. Actually, no, not methheads. They're coming at them with very inhuman movements and blood soaking their garments. Like something out of those cheesy zombie movies the humans like to indulge in.

He has little choice but to follow the others as they all haul ass toward some semblance of safety. He notices others scampering off in their own directions, but he has no motivation to join any of them. Where would he go? He’s become somewhat known by the humans for his benevolence and had never really bothered with learning how to properly beat someone’s ass in a physical fight. If he’d wanted someone ripped apart, he could just snap his fingers, but now… he can’t feel his powers anymore. He’s helpless. Better to stay with the group.

When did the human world get like this? It feels like he’d just been here yesterday! He’s always spent far more time with the humans than with the other gods. Had he really been away long enough to not notice a pandemic ruining them? This is not ideal.

They run for what seems like hours to lose the now multiplied creatures hunting them, and Alois spots a large, seemingly abandoned hotel to the left. ”Everyone over here! he shouts as loudly as he can without drawing too much attention, gesturing empathetically for people to follow him as he leads them into the building. It’s large, and extravagant, and should be a decent place to stay for now until they work out a better plan. He leads them up a few flights of stairs, just in case, until they come upon a second lobby that should have enough room to contain them all. When every last person is inside, they start dropping to the floors like flies, gasping with exertion and the remnants of their panic.

He, himself, drops into one of the plush armchairs of the pretentiously extravagant lobby, staring up at the ceiling and generally ignoring the moaning around him. He spots Hephaestus and Jase and sighs in relief that they appear uninjured. Although that isn't synonymous with "well". And Pan — where is he? That goatman spends more time on Earth than even he does, and last time he checked, he was still on Earth when this all went down. He hasn’t heard from him in some time… He should stop thinking about it. He doesn’t want to entertain the idea of his friend’s death. How many gods are even here? How many were brought down? Just the ones in Olympus at the time, or did the light stretch farther than that? Has that chimera turned its attention to other places? Is it coming for them? Can it come for them? And Hestia…?

Alois sits up properly, frantically surveying the room as he affirms the horrible truth that he already knows — she’s not here. What had been a comfort before is now a nightmare at the thought that she might still be up there with those monsters. Surely now that they've destroyed Olympus, they'll turn their sights elsewhere? And she wasn't here to get her powers removed... She's somewhere out there in the danger, and he’s not there to help her. Alois claws at his throat where it’s beginning to tighten, his heart racing and stomach lurching. He needs to go. Needs to find her. He owes her that much. But he doesn’t even know where to begin, and he’s so damn tired…

”Al. Alois. Dio!” A voice cuts through the static in his ears, and he realizes he’s begun to hyperventilate. It’s Hephaestus, or Klaudiusz now judging by his form, looking down at him with obvious concern, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into Alois’s shoulder. ”It’s going to be okay.”

”She's still out there. Hestia. S-She's still out there, somewhere, vulnerable —"

He can’t decide if he appreciates or despises the pity in the man’s eyes. So icy, despite his domain being fire. Funny how that works. ”So is Aphro. She’s not here with us.”

The statement makes Al dissolve back into the chair, ignoring the other man’s sharp gaze. ”You’re awfully calm. Was she one of the people that had run off by themselves?”

”No,” he says firmly, defensively, ”She wouldn’t leave me like that. I don’t think so, at least.” Klaudiusz sighs, batting Alois’s feet to the side so he can sit on the arm of the chair, which barely gives under his small figure. Their friendship might seem surprising to some, but Alois has a habit of befriending the “odd ones out.” He still remembers their first meeting…

“Hey, where’d you get that limp? Looks badass!”

And the rest was history… literally. Nothing like bonding over mutual spite.

”We have to keep a cool head about this. Better to wait here for their return, or wait for orders from Zeus. Going off on our own would be reckless given the circumstances.”

He’s right, of course. Alois knows he’s right, as much as he would love to just let his passion fuel him on a bloodlust. They have no idea the extent of the… situation out there, and he has no idea where Hestia is.

”Get some rest, Alois.”

Alois huffs, the air stirring a lock of fiery hair on his forehead. ”This isn’t very cash money.”

Klaud laughs, breathy and humorless. ”No. No, it isn’t. Get some rest, Alois.” He feels the man’s weight lift from the chair as he limps away, and Alois falls obediently into a restless sleep.


In the morning, he spreads out in the chair he’d been occupying last night, as though posed on a piano as he might once have been. He really wishes he had his powers so he could manifest himself a glass of wine. He’s going to have to be properly drunk to keep himself from all of the awful thoughts that are pounding his temples. He listens to the others stew in their newfound misery, observing the awkwardness and discomfort with barely concealed amusement. “What a lively bunch we all are,” he grumbles, staring up at the ceiling.

He misses his cult. He could really go for a Shakespearean comedy right about now. If they ever get back to normal, he’s going to have to tell them to stay away from the tragedies for a while. Even if those are usually funny in their own right. But maybe a bit too on the nose now. Although he certainly wouldn’t compare this shitfest to Hamlet. Which, of course, is also a shitfest. Just of a different breed. It doesn’t really fit into the category of “me and all of the people I am, unfortunately, often in the proximity of were almost murdered, and now we’re stuck as humans in the middle of the apocalypse.” If he lives through this, he should turn it into a play. No, no, a musical! Move over Willy.

“Here we are in the apocalypse, and we’re not even gonna go down partying,” he laments exaggeratedly, running a hand through his hair.
SAMPLE 4
Eight a.m. in university truly is different from eight a.m. in high school. How did they even manage to get up with such little problem so early in the morning back then? When the horrid screeching of their phone alarm goes off at 6 a.m., they barely manage to stop themselves from throwing the blasted thing at the wall. It doesn't help that Quill's goes off at the same time, the both of them cursed with the exact same early morning class. Not that biology isn't an interesting subject, but it isn't exactly the one she'd prefer to deal with when she's just managed to convince her eyes to stay open.

"When I throw myself out this window, remember to tell the world how brilliant I was at my funeral," she says as her own 'good morning' greeting, only the small smirk they send their blonde roommate's way being any indication that they're joking despite their deadpan tone. How Quill is already up and nearly ready for the day is beyond her. They get to their feet quickly regardless of their pessimistic words, shivering briefly as their exposed flesh acclimates to the drafty room that's only getting colder as the fall semester progresses. You'd think that such a prestigious school would have better heating, but it seems no university is free of the sin of having to pour most of their money into the sports teams. Is Lynmouth even particularly known for their sports? It's not like she'd have any clue. "Mind turning up the space heater a bit while I shower?" Hopefully, the ancient thing is out of dust to burn; the smell that had filled their room when they'd first turned the thing on had been almost unbearable.

She tries to slink as silently as possible around the room and gathers her shower caddy, then changes into her fluffy black bathrobe. She slips into the eerily silent hallway, her footsteps echoing as she pads toward the communal bathroom. The one good thing about waking so early, at least, is that very few people are up at the same time, which means there is no one there to fight with over a shower. Admittedly, the small bathroom in the similarly small section of the third floor is not usually crowded. Still, there are only two showers in total, and the only one with a bathtub is usually clogged full of hair from people not properly removing theirs after bathing. So they always gravitate to the regular prison-like shower.

They wash quickly, brushing their teeth afterward and then moving back to the room to change. They grab various random articles of clothing that look like they can go together and sequester themselves near their bed. "Look away," they call in warning before dropping their robe and slipping the clothes on. Having a much more objective view of the human body than most, they've never been particularly bothered by nudity. Not in seeing it, nor in presenting their naked body to others. Quill, however, does not seem to share this sentiment, and it only took a few times before Miki noticed the flushing of her roommate's face and their pointed looks away. If it were easier to do so in the cramped space, she'd change in the bathroom for Quill's comfort, but alas. A warning should be enough.


Once her routine is finished, she flashes Quill a more awake grin as she grabs her worn felt satchel. "You ready to head down to breakfast?"

It's a pleasant surprise to have a roommate that one can not only tolerate but whose company you can actually enjoy. Entering into their junior year, Miki had been nervous about choosing a double dorm. For the previous two years, they'd chosen to stay in single dorms, preferring their own space where they wouldn't have to deal with someone else breathing down their neck while they were trying to work or just relax away from the rest of campus. But the single dorms are quite expensive, and their parents earning slightly more money than usual meant that they received less financial aid than usual given the asinine fact that the financial aid office goes off of your parents' income rather than your own. Unfortunately, the library doesn't pay well enough to cover that extra two thousand dollars, so they were forced to file for a double room.

She'd been dreading meeting her roommate initially but was quite pleased to learn that Quill was quite the respectful roommate, and fairly similar to herself in terms of efficiency and passions. Conversations between them are actually entertaining, consisting of more than the usual small talk that plagues most of her social interactions. It's not exactly a secret that she doesn't have many friends, so getting to add someone to the tiny roster was a nice surprise. As a result, she finds herself usually looking forward to conversing with Quill over breakfast, rather than trying to avoid her company entirely.


When they finish breakfast, Miki takes a moment to brush their teeth again with their traveling toothbrush to scrape off excess food, and then the two of them brave the autumnal chill together as they walk to class. "So excited to learn about defense mechanisms for the umpteenth time," they drawl sarcastically, fiddling with the strap of their bag.

Eventually, they reach the old but well-maintained beige building, its utter vastness looming above them much the same as all the other buildings on campus, so Miki pays it little mind at this point. Still, she does take a moment to appreciate the architecture as they enter, estimating how much time went into building all of these pillars and grand staircases. While modern overhead lights were installed to brighten up the place, there are still various candlestick holders fixed to the walls, although what once likely housed actual flame-wielding candles now bears noticeably fake electric candles.

They reach auditorium D a little early, finding a seat easily amidst the sea of red velvet-lined fold-out chairs. People trickle in steadily as the minutes tick closer to eight, and she entertains herself by playing I Spy with her various acquaintances who also happen to be in the class. There's Rowan, Alivia, Tae... even Bazzie Montogomery, the energetic student vice-president, appears to have made it on time today.

Eventually, class starts and Miki practically copy and pastes the lecture slides down into their notebook, writing fervently to keep up. While typing on a computer is definitely far easier, studies show that it doesn't help you retain as much of the information as writing it down, so they have kept up the habit instilled into them from high school even as it leaves their wrist cramping.

Without warning, the room suddenly begins to shake. "Uh oh," she mutters, glancing around as the lights begin to flicker wildly. The room erupts into noise and their professor attempts to hide his own panic as he urges them to remain calm. The building is old, but its structure is well-supported and restoration has left it modern in all of the important ways, so the likelihood of something falling on them isn't strong, but the threat isn't nonexistent. For a brief moment, she's overcome with a surge of wooziness. Is she about to have a panic attack? "S-Shit," she gasps, leaning forward in her seat with her head in her hands. But the feeling is gone as soon as it came, and almost right after it clears, so too does the shaking come to a sudden and jarring halt.

They take steadying breaths, straightening up. "How odd," they offer weakly to Quill. Not the earthquake itself — Wales rests on a fault line, after all, so the country is no stranger to significant earthquakes. But the strength of it paired with the abruptness of its stop definitely feels mismatched. "We're probably going to be getting some aftershocks soon here."

• As you can tell if you peeked at the samples, I write in third person present tense. That's just what comes more naturally to me.

• I mostly do MxM, but I am open to anything except MxF right now.

• While I am used to writing sexual content out in detail, I don't mind fading to black or whatever makes you more comfortable. While I'm not against the idea of doing a roleplay that is pure smut, I tend to lose interest in those faster and prefer stories with an actual plot. To see more details about this, go to the NSFW section.

• I don't mind doubling.

• I don't do fandoms, but I am open to borrowing aspects of a world.

• In terms of FCs, I'm used to using realistic and semi-realistic options, but I'm not super picky. If you'd like to look at my character thread to see the types of characters I have written for in the past/currently write, here you go: [x]

• I'm pretty ghosting-friendly. I know life can get busy, and motivation can get sapped, and I won't hold it against you if you disappear without a word for a long while and then pop back up again. However, if you lose interest in the story, feel free to tell me! I will not be offended, I assure you. We can plot out something new, or we can carry on our merry ways.

• I don't mind writing in PMs or threads.

EXPECTATIONS:

• Not a whole lot, tbh. Just be chill.

• Looking for someone with the ability to write 1000+ words per post but who has the wisdom to know when 200 words are sufficient.

• As long as I can understand what you're saying, I don't mind spelling and grammar mistakes. We all make them.

• While I don't require that you write in the present tense, I'd prefer that you write in the third person.

• Please actively contribute to the progression of the story. If I'm the only one pushing the action along, I tend to lose interest very quickly.

• Please have some idea of what you'd like to do before reaching out to me. It can be kind of irritating to hear the question "what ideas do you have?" when half of this thread is dedicated to stating my ideas.

• On that note, you're not limited to the list of ideas I have presented! If you have your own plot that you've been eager to write out, feel free to reach out to me about that as well!

PLOTS, PAIRINGS, TROPES:

PLOTS:
Paying for Love
Character A is a sex worker who happens upon the wealthy but naive Character B in a popular pick-up place. Character B mistakenly believes Character A is just being friendly. They go back to Character B's place, where the reality of the situation is exposed. Character B offers to pay Character A for the night but asks only for conversation, and then wakes up with a missing wallet and a cheeky note from Character A. Character B winds up tracking Character A down... but only to ask them on a date?

Understand Me, Be My Friend
Set during the 19th century, Character A is a soldier with PTSD and no home. He is housed and cared for at the camp thanks to the general, an old friend (or a family member, whichever). Character B is the newest volunteer added to the medical staff. He is eager to serve the cause, although he regrets having to leave his lover whom he thinks he loves very much. Although her continued hesitancy to leave her husband often saddens him, he maintains frequent contact with her. Character B overhears Character A having an episode upstairs, learns of his condition, and provides him with some books to read for entertainment. Character A winds up becoming obsessed with Character B the nicer Character B is to him, but when Character A tries to make a move, Character B is repelled.
• Basically a gay version of Stephen Sondheim's Passion with some tweaks. I highly suggest reading the synopsis for that story.​

The Love-Hate Square
Character A is in love with Character B. Both are self-serving, manipulative, and obsessive assholes. Character B likes Character C, but Character C is dating Character D. Character B asks Character A to get Characters C and D to break up. Character A starts stalking and interacting with Character D to get them away from Character C. Character D mistakes this attention as attraction and eventually falls for Character A. Character A is not happy about it.
• Stalking is a significant component of this plot, but additional dark aspects can be discussed.​

Stuck in a Romance Novel?!
Recently dead, Character A somehow wakes up stuck in the terribly cliché — and thoroughly popular — romance novel that they’d actively despised before their death. Stuck as the protagonist with the pining and admittedly attractive Character B as the love interest, Character A tries to defy the story and avoid falling in love.
• The story may have merged with Character A's original life, leading certain roles to be filled in by people that Character A knew from their world. For example, Character B might be someone that Character A had previously disliked.​

The Bastard Next Door
Character A is a hardworking trade school type who lives alone in the house they worked hard to buy. Nextdoor, Character B is your typical college student living in a house with some friends, and they love to host house parties. Character A despises these parties, which are always way too loud. Character B despises Character A for constantly leaving trash in their shared driveway. After a drunkard at one of Character B's parties throws up on Character A's car, Character A decides to confront Character B in the crowd.

The Value of Touch
Two roommates-turned-friends who are severely touch-starved for one reason or another find solace in establishing a platonic, physically affectionate relationship. Complications ensue.

My Friend Died... And Now They're Hot?
Character A witnesses the death of their best friend, Character B. In the middle of mourning, a stranger shows up at their home claiming to be Character B. Apparently, they died at the same time someone else killed themself, and now they are stuck in that other person's body. Both characters have to learn to adjust to Character B's new life or find a way to switch Character A back. But would that kill them entirely? And is it just Character A, or is Character B's new body looking fine as hell?

Can We Try Again?
Character A and Character B used to be friends with harbored romantic feelings, but after some horrible event, they became enemies. Character A gets in an accident and loses their memory of that event. Character B, regretful and missing them, rushes to take care of them. Character A is surprised by the affectionate care and asks if they have started dating since the last point they can remember. Unable to tell the truth about their relationship, Character B says yes. Now they have to live with the guilt of that lie.

Happy Coronation, Have a Harem
Character A is the newly crowned king after the death of his (pretty shitty) father. Unbeknownst to Character A, his father, knowing about Character A's "predilection" for men and reluctance to take a wife, ordered upon his death bed to have a harem of men made for Character A to "play with" in exchange for taking a wife and having an heir. Character A does not appreciate the surprise coronation gift. However, because these men were kidnapped from enemy territories after their towns were ransacked, they can't go home. Feeling guilty and responsible for them, Character A lets them stay in the palace and enjoy the luxuries like any other guests. But is it a good idea to keep several men who hate him under the same roof with him? Perhaps he can befriend them if he tries hard enough.

Road Trip with a Stranger
What it says on the tin. Character A is going through a rough patch in life and decides to run away on a road trip. Along the way, they meet Character B, who insanely agrees to join them on the adventure.

Death is Dumb
After developing a new system for ferrying souls, Death is rendered useless. It is forced into an eternal slumber beneath the ground through the combined efforts of Heaven and Hell. After a witch's resurrection spell goes wrong, Death awakens. It turns out Death is a pretty chill entity and is somewhat stupid after centuries of being asleep. The witch is glad they survived the encounter but is less enthused about basically having to babysit the grim reaper.

For The Tax Benefits
Your classic 'two friends with a terrible history of relationships promise to get married if neither of them has a significant other by the time they're both thirty.’ However, Characters A and B made that promise when they were twenty-two, and they haven't seen each other in 6 years. When Character B reaches out to Character A on their thirtieth birthday about fulfilling the promise, Character A has little reason to refuse. However, it seems both of them have changed a lot in the time they've been apart. Will this marriage even work out? Well, at least they get the tax benefits.

Who You Were ***
Character A is hired to be a secret ghostwriter for Character B's autobiography and slowly falls in love with Character B as they find out more about their history.

Say the Word
A neurolinguist tries to write a love poem for the object of their affections and ends up accidentally creating a love spell.
• They could read it aloud to their crush, who falls for them​
• They could give it to their crush and their crush leads it aloud, making the person with them fall for them​
• It could somehow wind up with someone entirely unrelated to these two characters and cause chaos for that person instead​

ḛ̸̛̻̜͍̖͊͂̎͒͂̎̔͋̈́̊͂̎͜r̴̠̈́̀́͝r̶͉̼̖̥̪̭̙̱̂̃̑̒͆̈͝ó̴̤͎̞̜̙̓͊͠ṛ̷̨̢͍̺̺̫͙͎̭̫̚
Based on Detroit: Become Human. Character A, who prefers to avoid androids because they find them unsettling, is gifted an android as a personal assistant. The android, Character B, winds up slowly becoming deviant as the result of falling for Character A, but can't admit anything is wrong, lest Character A get rid of them.

Fate Works in Mysterious Ways
In a world where everyone is born knowing how their lives will go, Character A is given the short end of the stick. However, when they are mistaken for someone else by Character B, they are given the opportunity to have everything they were never supposed to. But how long can they keep up the act? Can fate truly be changed?

Two Weeks
Character A goes to a foreign country to visit their long-distance partner for two weeks, but when Character A quickly finds evidence that their partner has been cheating on them, a fight ensues. Character A is kicked out of their partner's home and onto foreign streets, where they are swiftly pickpocketed as they try to find a place to stay. Character B finds Character A crying on a bench, and feeling bad for their situation, decides to give them a place to stay and the promise of giving them a proper two-week vacation.

Haunted
Character A thinks they've won the jackpot when they manage to get their hands on an old abandoned but well-maintained mansion when the housing market crashes, only to discover that one of the previous tenants still lives there. Character B is a ghost trapped inside the home in which they died just trying to live out their afterlife in as much peace as possible, but now they have to deal with some nosy human?

Haunted 2.0 ***
Character A has been haunted by tragedy for many years of their life, one of the biggest things being the death of their parents and being forced to move away from their best friend, Character B. The biggest thing, though, is when Character B died years later. After over a decade, Character A moves back to their old family home saved by their grandfather and inherited after the man's death. However, it seems they're not entirely alone. Their best friend, Character B, appears to be haunting the place. Or is that just their imagination and grief seeing things?

Whatever It Takes
Character A and Character B have been close friends since childhood, with the possibility of being more looming over them. Eventually, Character B leaves town either for college, family, or some other reason, leaving Character A alone. During their time apart, Character A winds up falling victim to a demonic haunting they can't seem to shake. Character A implores Character B to help, leading Character B to return with the promise to help them at any cost.

Eternal Mating Dance
A.K.A. "What the fuck, Claude?!" based on these tumblr posts: [x]. Characters A and B are immortal, whether creatures of the night or some cursed or some other occult, and they've been secretly in love for centuries, but neither of them has ever said anything. One day, Character A stumbles upon a love letter addressed to them with very familiar handwriting and an even more familiar writer.

Quite the Stand Up Guy, Stood You Up Least Twelve Times ***
Character A and Character B were childhood best friends with blooming romantic feelings. When Character A confesses to Character B before leaving for college, though, Character B panics and rejects him. Despite Character A's attempts to contact Character B after leaving, Character B doesn't respond, leaving Character A to grieve the loss of their friendship. Eventually, Character A moves on with his life, but Character B never forgets him, eventually realizing his own feelings and resenting his past self. With no way to contact him, though, Character B can only stew in his remorse and try to move forward. One day, though, he happens upon Character A by chance. With his husband.

Til Marriage Do Us Part ***
Character A is in love with his childhood best friend Character B, but he's never had the guts to confess. Now, Character B is engaged to be wed. Character B's fiance does not like Character A, and Character A knows that once Character B is married, they'll likely barely be in each other's lives anymore. He wants to avoid the wedding with everything in him, but there's one big problem; he's supposed to be the best man.

PAIRINGS:
• Succubus/Incubus x Asexual
• Cupid x Fuckboy
Serial Killer/Victim/Detective x Detective
• Criminal x Criminal
• Artist x Muse
Pirate Captain x Captured/Runaway Royal/Noble
• Prince x Gardener/Knight/Prince
Priest/Angel x Demon/Angel
• Demon x Contractor
• Vampire x Vampire Hunter
• Obsessive Shapeshifter x Object of Obsession
• Farmer x Elemental
• Witch x Familiar
• Agoraphobic Person x Adventurous Person
• Hero x Villain
• Ghost x Human
• Barista/Customer x Mysterious Musician
• Artist/Writer x Their Creation ***
• Merfolk x Sailor
• Android x Human
• Someone With DID x Their Beloved(s)
• Doctor/Medical Assistant x Case Study (prefer this to be set before modern-day) ***
• Bodyguard/Caregiver x Charge
• People With Visible Disabilities
• Employer x Loyal Employee
• Immortal x Time Traveler
• Country Person x City Person
• Punk x Nerd (NOT Nerd x Bully)
• Famous Person x Bodyguard/Fan
• Tutor x Underclassman

TROPES:
• Enemies to Lovers
• Childhood/Best Friends to Lovers
• Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers
• Size Differences
• Period Gay Shit™
• Forbidden Love
Soulmates
• Reincarnation
• Fake Relationship/Marriage of Convenience
• Obsession
• Stalking
• Kidnapping
• Haunted Locations
• Hanahaki
• Curses
• Revenge
• Misunderstandings
• Prophetic/Shared Dreams
• Stuck Together/Forced Proximity
• Amnesia
• Secret Admirer
• Mistaken Identity/Disguise/Cyrano
• Returning Home and Finding It Very Different
• Friends Reunited
• Happy to Serve
• Playing Hard to Get/Attracted to What You Can't Have

NSFW:

I'm open to sex scenes in all of my stories, to whatever degree, but I thought I'd put the more sex-centric stuff here. Keep in mind that my 'yes' list is just a list of things I enjoy and am willing to write, it doesn't mean that these things must be included in the story.

I play any position (top, bottom, versatile) and any dominance level (dominant, submissive, switch). Personality is a separate thing from sexual preferences.

I'm a huge fan of dirty talk in my smut, and I ask that you give me at least the basics of what kind of dirty talk you enjoy and what kind makes you uncomfortable (e.g., do you like using BDSM dynamic titles like 'Sir,' 'Daddy,' etc? Do you enjoy or detest calling an asshole a pussy? Do you prefer graphic narration or does that gross you out?) so that I don't accidentally say something that disturbs you. Similarly, if there are certain things about the actual physicality of sex that you'd prefer not to be graphic about, please let me know that as well.

My 'yes's and 'no's:
YES
• BONDAGE
• SENSATION PLAY
• IMPACT PLAY
• ORGASM CONTROL/DENIAL
• SENSORY DEPRIVATION
• BREATH CONTROL
• DISCIPLINE/REINFORCEMENT
• CONDITIONING
• HUMILIATION/DEGRADATION
• PRAISE
• BODY WORSHIP
• SEMI-PUBLIC SEX
• CROSSDRESSING
• LINGERIE
• FEMINIZATION
• ORIENTATION PLAY
• WARDROBE MALFUNCTION
• STRIPTEASE
• SEX TOYS
• APHRODISIACS
• PHEROMONES
• SOUNDING
• NIPPLE PLAY
• HAND WORSHIP
• FINGERING
• FROTTING
• INTERCRURAL SEX
• HOTDOGGING
• FACE-FUCKING
• RIMMING
• ANAL
• DOUBLE PENETRATION
• EDGING
• DOM/SUB UNIVERSE
• I much prefer this to Omegaverse, although I don't mind borrowing certain aspects of Omegaverse like scenting, biting, and knotting.​
• MIND BREAK
• BITING
• CUM PLAY
• COCK WARMING
• SEXUAL EXHAUSTION
• SEXUAL FRUSTRATION
MAYBE
• PUBLIC SEX
• COERCION/BLACKMAIL
• I prefer long-con games of seduction and manipulation that persuade a hesitant individual into consensually engaging in sex.​
• HYPNOSIS
• Specifically in the case where you cannot force a hypnotized person to do so something they don't already want to do.​
• LIGHT WATERSPORTS
• Pretty much exclusively in the case of either pissing on someone as a humiliation tactic or accidentally pissing oneself during intense sex.​
• I am only willing to use this in two scenes at most.​
• LACTATION
• LIGHT FOOT FETISH
• PET PLAY
• MASTER/SLAVE
NO
• UNDERAGE
• AGEPLAY
• BEASTIALITY
• INCEST
• RAPE
• NECROPHILIA
• MUTILATION
• ABUSE
• FILTH
• INFLATION
• ANYTHING GROSSLY UNREALISTIC
• VORE
• FURRIES
• MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL X CLIENT
• As someone who works in the field, it just leaves me feeling icky on a personal level.​


A few samples of moments from smut scenes I've written:
SAMPLE 1 - SWITCH GANGSTERS IN LOVE, CONSENSUAL
Julian is immensely glad for having pulled back to watch the other man’s face, because the way it contorts in pleasure is brilliant. Not to mention the cute little sound that Marius makes at the gesture. It does indeed feel good, Julian can agree. He moves to do it again, wanting to encourage more of those noises, more of that trembling, but the request that he waits grinds him to an immediate halt. His eyes flit back up from where they’d fallen to observe their closeness to find Marius’s face again, concerned that he might be doing something wrong. Thankfully, Marius doesn’t seem displeased, but his eyes are staring rather fixedly at Julian’s crotch. Julian knows he’s blushing, but he can’t help the slight self-consciousness that runs through him. To be the object of such scrutiny is as terrifying as it is worthy of celebration.

He goes pliant beneath the other man’s touch, gladly letting him guide him down against the bed and adjust him as he sees fit. He can only guess what Marius intends to do, but all of the possible scenarios cause his erection to twitch. He’s infinitely relieved that the movement is made rather indiscernible beneath the last layer he’s wearing. Suddenly, Marius’s lips are on him, and he can’t stop the way his fingers ball in the sheets beneath him and his lips part on a gasp. He feels suddenly like he’s on fire, but not in any unpleasant way. It doesn’t feel like a cigarette burn, but something more like the flame of a candle spreading from his core to the tips of fingers and toes. One of his hands uncurls to find purchase in Marius’s hair, careful not to pull too hard. He watches with rapt attention as the man moves down his body, closer and closer to where it wants him most. Is he actually going to...?

The question sends a jolt of arousal threw him, knocking the breath from his chest. And the way Marius is looking at him, oh Lord help him. His head feels increasingly light, almost fuzzy like television static. It’s a familiar feeling, but it has never been this pleasant with anyone else. It’s never happened because of a simple look like this. Just the prospect of those lips stretched around him is enough to affect him this much... remarkable, really. “Go ahead,” he encourages, scratching his nails lightly over his scalp. He’d be hard-pressed to deny Marius anything that he wants, let alone something like this.

• • • • •

Julian’s eyes may very well pop out of their sockets with how wide they grow, shocked by the display in front of him. He hadn’t expected anything quite like this, but fuck, he’s not complaining. They’ve barely started, and yet here Marius is with his cock exposed and fucking leaking, legs spread wide as if begging Julian to come and fill him, and drool trailing down his chin. It’s perhaps the most incredible sight Julian has ever seen. “Fuck, Marius,” he gasps, frozen as he watches the man pleasure himself. He’s so vocal, too, and Julian can’t stop his own hand from palming himself through his trousers. “So good, darling, you look so good,” he praises with a growl, “Like a bitch in heat.” He has half a mind to push Marius back and take him now, show him an even greater pleasure, but he knows he can’t yet. As desperate as he feels, he doesn’t want to hurt the other man.

The sight of the man’s excessive precum makes him shudder, and Julian decides that he wants to make him so wet he feels like a whore. Julian quite likes that idea; Marius being his whore. Desperate for his cock, unable to cum without it. It fills him with a twisted sense of satisfaction. “Who would have thought that The Kid, such a notoriously ruthless criminal, would be such a slut for his boss,” he grins, chuckling darkly. “I bet it feels wonderful to let go like this, hm?” He strokes Marius’s face gently, reverentially. “You’re such a good boy, Marius,” he purrs, knowing that Marius has always thrived off of his praise, “So good to me. I ought to reward you properly, shouldn’t I?”

Anything else he wants to say promptly fizzles out of his brain when Marius stops touching himself to tug down his boxers, his erection springing out of the confines already dribbling. The cold that rushes over his sensitive skin is unpleasant, but it’s replaced rather quickly by Marius’s hot breath. Julian watches, anticipating, slightly worried by the other man’s pause. But then his tongue is on him, and Julian tosses his head back with a moan, grip tightening in the other man’s hair. Marius moves so expertly, so teasingly, that Julian would yell at him if it didn’t feel so damn good. He tries his damn hardest to keep his hips still, eyes fluttering open and shut as he revels in the pleasure. “That’s perfect, love,” he pants, “Keep doing that —“ He moans when his length is suddenly sliding down Marius’s throat, the muscles contracting around him deliciously. His hips buck involuntarily, and Julian manages a quick apology. The lewd noises Marius is making is maddening, and Julian has to wonder if this is an ultimate test of his resolve.

“You’re doing such a good job, Marius. Get it nice and wet for me, okay? Then I’ll stretch you out on my fingers before I slip it inside you. Would you like that, my dear?” He watches Marius’s face, admiring the way he looks with his lips around him like this. He trails his gaze down the length of his beautiful back, curved not unlike a cat and legs still spread like a horny dog. Quite animalistic, and absolutely tempting. He stares quite obviously at the man’s ass, raised in the air like an offering. Oh, he wants to make him feel so good he forgets his own name. Wants to make him see stars.

• • Bottoming • •

Julian finally adjusts to the sensation, eagerly chasing that high implicitly promised to him as he fucks himself on Marius’s finger. “Oh yeah?” he purrs, slightly cocky at the idea of a repressed Marius touching himself to countless thoughts of having his boss beneath him. “Then I guess you better deliver on your fantasies,” he chuckles, slightly breathless. When Marius removes his finger, Julian is only given a moment of confusion before he finds himself guided on to his back, elbows keeping him as high above water level as he can be while Marius rearranges him. Julian swallows thickly at the intimacy of the position, clutching his trembling thigh as he watches his lover’s beautiful face wracked with hunger. He expects the finger to return, so when Marius is suddenly pressing his cock against him, he inhales sharply. “O-Oh,” he sputters stupidly, anxiety spiking. Not having lube was one thing, but Marius had barely even prepared him. Still, the desire on Marius’s face was enchanting, and the sound that falls from his lips positively sinful in its sway over Julian’s heart. “Alright, go ahead,” he allows.

He’d completely forgotten about the guards outside, and the reminder sends a jolt of... something through him. Worry, certainly, but something else, too. Something that makes his own cock twitch against his stomach. He nods his understanding, unable to speak as Marius takes a steadying breath. And then suddenly he’s entering him, and the burn of it causes Julian to cry out instinctively. He claps a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might fight off the stinging pain. “So big,” he whines into his hand. He somehow feels stuffed to his toes, like he might just burst at the seams any second. “You’re going to tear my ass like this,” he complains, only slightly upset. He can feel every inch of Marius’s cock inside him, hot and throbbing with arousal. What a fascinating thing. “It’s like I can feel your heartbeat in my ass.” He tries for jovial, but it comes out more whiny than he’d intended. But who can blame him when Marius is so deep inside him, pressing against his insides? Julian has little time to adjust before Marius warns him that’s going to move. “W-Wait — shit!” His back arches slightly as Marius begins to move, a gradual heat filling him from toe tip to hair follicle that has Julian feeling like he’s going to melt away.

Marius’s movements are slow, and Julian’s hips move of their own accord, the both of them rolling together like gentle waves. Julian manages to keep himself quiet, even as the pain slowly ebbs away into pleasure. Marius suddenly changes up their position, bending Julian in a way that Julian didn’t realize his body was capable of. Suddenly Marius comes at him more aggressively, the snap of his hips at this new angle driving him even deeper than before in a way that has Julian gasping. Marius eventually hits what Julian can only imagine is his prostate, and the cry that flies out of his mouth is completely involuntary as his head and eyes roll back. “There, right there, Marius,” he gasps, biting a knuckle to keep himself quiet. His thighs are beginning to ache where Marius is clutching them, holding him at his mercy as he fucks him relentlessly. Julian is surprised to find he doesn’t really mind the sense of powerlessness. Not so long as Marius keeps making him feel like this.

“God, Marius,” he croons, raising a shaky hand to caress his lover’s flushed face. Marius somehow manages to look both wrecked and composed, and Julian envies his abilities. He knows he must look like a disaster, himself. His vision keeps swimming, and he has to close his eyes against it as he moans uncontrollably. He doesn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. Suddenly Marius’s fingers are in his mouth, and Julian bites at them automatically before caressing them with his tongue apologetically. The sound of their skin slapping together was the lewdest, sexiest thing he’d ever heard, amplified by the sloshing liquid around them. He sucks on Marius’s fingers to prevent his voice from slipping out as anything more than soft vibrations.

Within an instant, everything stops, and Julian’s eyes fly open in concern and frustration at the sudden emptiness inside of him. “Why did you stop?” he asks, but then he’s being manhandled into a new position, gasping as the coldness of the wall presses against his front. Marius traps him there between the wall and his chest, and swiftly enters him once more. Julian sobs, his weeping erection rubbing against the wall with every hard thrust from Marius. He clutches desperately at the hand around his throat, feverish forehead resting against the cool wall. “So good,” he praises, “You feel so good.” He rolls back against him, trying to pull him deeper and deeper. “Harder,” he pants, “Deeper. Give me everything, darling.”
SAMPLE 2 - SEMI-SADISTIC DADDY DOM TOP, FEMINIZATION AND HUMILIATION WARNING, CONSENSUAL
Anton can't help but smile into the kiss when Mika starts responding earnestly, clearly thinking he has something to prove. He should probably be flattered that Mika cares so much about his opinion. The blond is a great kisser, but he'd rather expected him to be after all the playboy gossip he'd heard about. He's probably kissed dozens of women like this. Is Anton the first man? It's wrong to assume and all that, but given Mika's reactions to his flirtations, it seems like there's a strong possibility that he's never done anything with a man before. The idea that he's the first gives him a strange sort of thrill, even if Mika only began kissing him because of a lost bet.

He matches pace with Mika, content to savor the teasing nips and slides of tongue. His mind briefly flickers over to the timer. How much time has passed now? It can't be all that long. He's brought back to the moment when Mika begins rubbing his chest, which is warm if not all that stimulating for him. To reward the gesture, he catches Mika's tongue and suckles on it briefly in a move that has usually made his partners go more weak-kneed in the past. He runs his hands all along Mika's soft body, firm in their grip as though he were massaging him but turning gentle and teasing in the instances where he dips down near his ass and groin. Eventually, he dawdles at the man's soft chest, thumbing his nipples with practiced fingers. He draws back a hair's breadth to ask, "Do you like having your nipples played with?"

• • • • •

Well, it’s not a straightforward answer, but it’s still an answer nonetheless. He thinks about refuting the statement — he didn’t technically say that, but it seems unnecessary given how little resistance Mika is showing. In fact, the blond seems quite happy, judging by the bulge he can feel rubbing against him. He chuckles lowly, undoing the belt on Mika’s robe to get a good view of his arousal. ”You’re so cute. Look how hard you’ve gotten over a man touching your tits a little,” he teases, running his hands up and down Mika’s plush thighs as he leans in to murmur in his ear. ”But that’s okay. Can you feel how your cute noises are making me hard, too?” he asks, thrusting his hips upward to grind himself against the blond.

Before Mika can get much of a response in, he conquers his mouth again. He reaches under the pillow for the lube he’d moved there while Mika was in the shower, sneakily popping the cap and pouring a bit on his fingers. He warms it up between his hands— gentleman, remember? — and returns to toying with Mika’s nipples, which is a lot easier now that they’ve gotten harder. He pinches and pulls and rubs the sensitive skin until it’s flushed red and puffy. He breaks away from the kiss, noting the string of saliva that briefly connects them before it breaks. “You have such girly nipples,” he hums, flicking the rock-hard buds. “They look like little clits. Tell me, when I play with them, which twitches more, your clit or your pussy?”

• • • • •

He wants to fuck Mika so badly it's beginning to get a little painful, the stimulation of grinding against the blond's soft cheeks not nearly enough. He just looks so cute, his hair and robe both in disarray and seemingly every part of his body alight with red-tinged arousal. The needy sounds he's making are like gospel, and he can only imagine how much sweeter he'll get once he's inside him. Which likely won't take too long with how little restraint Mika seems to have left. "Where's all that fight you had before? Did it ooze out with your slick?" he teases, running a fingertip oh-so-lightly up the underside of the prominent wet bulge in his briefs.

"You're right; you're not a girl. But that doesn't change anything."He slips Mika's robe off entirely before flipping them over with ease so that Mika is on his back amongst the pillows. "Let me show you," he begins, yanking the man's soiled underwear off and tossing them into the void beyond their shared bed, and pinning the smaller man's legs wide open with his knees. "See, most men are born with cocks meant for breeding. Like me." He grabs the discarded lube and begins applying it on his pulsing erection liberally. "And some men, like you, are born with pussies meant to be bred by those cocks," he finishes matter-of-factly, laying over him to press their erections together. "Look at how much my cock dwarfs you," he taunts, rubbing their glands together in a way that sends electricity sparking down his spine. "This is what a real cock looks like. This thing between your legs doesn't even compare, does it? And look how much it loves having a cock rub against it. So what else could it be except a clit?"

He smiles in his usual charming way before ducking down to kiss him again, speeding up his hips to rub against him mercilessly. He breaks away eventually for air, leaving open-mouthed kisses along Mika's jaw before finding a home at his neck. "Doesn't this feel amazing? You love having a man's cock rubbing against you, don't you?" he baits, nipping at the man's pulse point before latching on and sucking a mark for Mika to find tomorrow.

• • • • •

Well, there's that fight again. He can't help but laugh at his weak attempt at rejection. "Are you really going to keep lying when you're soaking wet and shaking your hips like a slut? Not very convincing. But oh well." He sighs, sitting back on his haunches and staring down at him, keeping Mika's legs spread but giving him no friction despite his desperate rutting. He grabs both of the blond's hands, pinning them above his head with one of his own. With the other hand, he strokes himself idly, disappointed gaze fixed on Mika writhing beneath him. "Only good, honest boys get Daddy's cock. Lying little whores get nothing. So we're going to sit here until your clit softens and then we're going to go to bed. But if you tell the truth and ask nicely for Daddy to pound your pussy, I'll forgive you."

He has to fight back the sadistic smirk threatening to spill on his face, trying to look every part the upset dominant. Not that he isn't upset, of course — he's achingly hard and would much rather be sinking into the heat of Mika at this very moment instead of dealing with this pause, but it is what it is. He doubts Mika will be able to hold out for very long, so it's only a matter of time. And if Mika somehow manages to hold it together, he still gets to masturbate while Mika doesn't, so he's at least getting something out of it.
SAMPLE 3 - GENTLE TOP, SUPERNATURAL CHARACTER, VOYEURISM, TELEKINETIC COMMANDS, SEX TOYS, APHRODISIACS, FEMINIZATION, CUM WORSHIP, CONSENSUAL
After a moment, Era creeps as soundlessly out of his room as possible and over to the man's door, peeking through the crack to get his reactions. They're predictably hilarious, and he wonders if the man might just shove them under the bed in a huff. Maybe he'll scream at him tomorrow for the audacity and make him watch as he dumps the toys in the trash. He doesn't though, instead snatching up one of the various lubes and saying he'll use it. He turns toward the door and Era has to move as quickly and quietly back into his room as he can. He heads into the bathroom, seemingly with the lube, and Era waits to see if he can hear anything through the door, but there's nothing. Odd.

He heads back into his room, peeking carefully through the crack to survey the hallway. Finn eventually makes his way across, glistening noticeably. It looks like he's rubbed the lube all over his body. Wait... does he think it's lotion? And judging by the lingering scent in the air, he'd used the cherry one, which if he remembers correctly, was one of the ones infused with aphrodisiac. Oh, this is going to be quite the show. Grabbing his fleshlight, he waits for Finn to disappear behind his door again, walking over and peering through the crack. Nothing particularly interesting happens at first, as the man just heads to bed. That's not going to happen with how much lube he just put on.

Sure enough, he eventually starts thrashing around and stifling moans, the effects of the liquid beginning to kick in. Once he finally sits up and frees his cock, Era begins to stroke himself in tandem, basking in the man's sky-high libido and the friction of his hand until he's just as hard. He thrusts into the fleshlight, matching Finlay's languid hand movements with his hips. They continue like this for some time, though every time Finlay nears orgasm, he suddenly backs off. Does he have an edging kink? Erasmus, though, lets his orgasm rip through him, soaking the insides of the fleshlight more and more as time goes on. Like a moron, Finn keeps applying the lube, apparently still ignorant that it's the thing causing his intense arousal. Or, maybe he does know, and is doing it on purpose. Suddenly, the man calls his name, and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep from moaning in response.

With Erasmus seemingly on his brain, he suddenly turns submissive, rolling onto his belly and raising his hips like a desperate whore. Is he imagining Era splitting him open on his thick cock? The idea has him cumming again. Why Finn hasn't used the dildo yet is beyond him, given how much it would lend to his fantasy. He'd even specifically picked out one the same size as him. The only thing it wouldn't be able to do is breed him. Looks like he could use a hand.

Using his power of suggestion, the only one that he can use without touching someone, he speaks telepathically to him. You look gorgeous like this, Finn, all aching and ready to be bred. Spread your legs further for me, baby. You want my cock? I need you to loosen your pussy first, can you do that for me, baby? Use some more of that lotion and finger your hole until it's soft and wet. Can you do that for me?

• • • • •

He almost laughs when Finlay originally misses his hole in his daze, but he gets there, although he tries to go in with two fingers immediately. Wait, don't use two of them yet, baby. I know you're eager, but you've gotta let your pussy get used to being stretched for the first time, otherwise you'll hurt yourself. Go ahead and rub your fluttering rim. Do you feel that tingling? Go ahead and relax into it. When you're ready, slip your middle finger inside as far as you can.

He watches Finlay like a hawk until he's slipped the finger in. Yeah, just like that, good boy. I know it feels weird, but I promise it'll start feeling amazing soon. Is your hole starting to itch? You can scratch it, go ahead and start moving it in and out... good. Does that feel good? Yeah. Now, I want you to crook your finger downward. After a moment, Finlay spasms, a clear indication that he's found his prostate. "Good boy! Did you like that? That's your G-spot. Go ahead and keep rubbing it, angel. Fuck, you look so pretty writhing in heat like this. I can't wait to pound your cute pussy. Are you excited? Yeah, I can tell you are. You're dripping like a faucet, you slut. So adorable. Go ahead and stick another finger in... now start scissoring your fingers. Perfect. You're doing such a good job following Mister's instructions. My little submissive bitch. You're making such pretty noises, don't hold them in, I want to hear them.

Giving him a moment to keep working on himself, he uses the time that he's distracted to approach, setting down the full-once-more fleshlight and the dildo beside him. He goes back behind the door afterward, not wanting to risk Finlay being cognizant enough to realize this isn't just all in his head. Okay, go ahead and work a third finger in... Very good job, Finn. I'm so proud of you. As a reward, I got you some gifts. Look to your left. I know you love Mister's cock milk, so I'm giving you some to enjoy while you work yourself open for me.

Unfortunately, though, now he doesn't have anything to catch his inevitable ejaculations, so he has to hurry to his room and grab a cloth that he can use to catch any spilling. The sight he sees when he returns is incredible, and he has to squeeze down on his dick to stop from cumming then and there. You're so damn sexy, do you know that? My cock is so hard just from watching you. Do you think you're ready for it? Go ahead and take your fingers out. Mm, your pussy is so soft and wet now, my cock should slide in easily. It's spasming, too. You must be aching, you poor thing. Do you need Mister to fill you up? Go ahead and beg me for it.

Grinning as Finlay obediently does just that, he approaches him from behind cautiously, grabbing the dildo and lubing it up before rubbing it against his gaping entrance teasingly. Grabbing one of Finlay's hands, he guides it to wrap around the wet toy, aiming it so that the very tip is pressing into him. If you want it so bad, go ahead and push it inside you.


Green highlight means that's the role I'd prefer to play.
Titles marked with '***' are the ideas I'm most eager to write.
Strikethrough titles means that idea is currently being used, and while this doesn't mean the prompt is completely off-limits, it does mean I might be rather hesitant to use it again.

PLOTS:
I Fucked with You Once Upon a Dream
Character A has been having on-and-off erotic dreams involving the same stranger for weeks, despite having a significant other. Still, the sex is pretty great, so they start looking into how to lucid dream. One day, they happen across someone who looks exactly like the person in their dreams.

Silver-Tongued
A sex-centric version of my Say the Word plot. A neurolinguist (un)intentionally creates a spell that acts as a powerful aphrodisiac on whoever hears it.

Doctor! Doctor!
Character A is struggling with erectile dysfunction and goes to Character B, a urologist, for treatment. When it turns out Character A is a bit too enthusiastic during treatment, Character B decides to have a little unethical fun in an otherwise boring job.

Unexpected Consequences
Character A is a self-proclaimed straight man who begins working as a waiter at a gay bar. When Character B, a rich new client, takes an interest in him, Character A agrees to let Character B have some fun with him for a hefty sum. He ends up enjoying it more than he expected, but afterward, Character B seems to have lost interest in him.

The "Ethical" Brothel
Character A is a former doctor of a reproductive health clinic whose main clientele was sex workers. Disheartened by the corrupt prostitution system of the city and how it was affecting the prostitutes who came to them, they quit their job and used their wealth to start up a brothel of their own. Their goal is to provide a much more safe, healthy work environment with plenty of screening procedures and a focus on respecting the boundaries of their employees. Character B is a cop tasked with infiltrating and busting the place. Going undercover as a prostitute, Character B winds up with plenty of face-to-face contact with Character A. But when Character A isn't what Character B expected, what will Character B do?

Cupid's Arrow
Character A is a closeted queer individual in denial who has the women he fucks peg him and/or who is anally masturbating in secret. Because of the string of broken hearts Character A has left behind and his own conflicted heart, a cupid, Character B, gets sent to sort Character A's shit out. Character B winds up moving in with Character A since he's looking for a new roommate and they become friends, but when Character B's normal attempts to get him to come out and get a steady partner keep failing, he eventually takes more drastic measures. Knowing that Character A is sexually attracted to him, Character B brings up hypnotism to Character A one night and suggest they try it on each other as a joke. Character A, thinking it's bullshit, agrees. Using his abilities to hypnotize people (but with the rule that he can't make them do something they don't want to, or else they'll snap out of it), he hypnotizes Character A and they ultimately have sex. Afterward, Character A becomes Very Horny for Character B™ but keeps trying to justify it as the lingering effects of the hypnosis.

Your Dick is Mine
Based on this absolutely unhinged moment in history: [x]. Character A has a secret forced chastity kink that they indulge in with an internet-connected chastity cage. Character B is a hacker who manages to take control of the device (whether out of boredom or a personal grudge against Character A) and uses the situation to put Character A at their mercy.

A Recording Will Last Longer
Character A is a gamer (or streamer, etc) who accidentally leaves their audio (and/or video) on while they masturbate. Character B witnesses and records the whole thing and uses the embarrassing moment to blackmail Character A.
• Alternatively, and more wholesomely, friends on a call that accidentally gets left on and Character B ends up overhearing Character A masturbating and oops, now Character B is lusting after their friend.​

Bussy
Crack treated seriously. Character A is a "straight" man who is suddenly cursed to have a vagina-like asshole that self-lubricates and dilates with arousal. This wouldn't be such a problem if Character A didn't have a nearly insatiable sex drive and too much curiosity.
• Character A could have been cursed through a variety of means and for various reasons such as through a bitter ex or a lustful wizard.
• Character B could be the person who cursed him to trick him into having sex with them, an enemy who catches him masturbating and uses it as blackmail, a friend just trying to help him clear distractions while they find a way to lift the curse, etc.​

Wrong Room
Character A and Character B are roommates. After drinking very heavily, Character A winds up mistaking Character B's room for theirs. Character B gets home in time to see Character A drunkenly masturbating and records the whole thing, using the video to blackmail Character A into doing things for them.[/INDENT]

Teach Me ***

Character A and Character B are students at a prestigious universities. Despite not being from a wealthy family, Character A is well-known and respected throughout the school for excelling in their studies and for being an excellent tutor for the other students (albeit at a high price). Character B is currently failing one of their classes, and seeks Character A's help with studying. Not having the money to pay Character A, they strike a deal that Character B will pay for each session with their body.

Theft and Thirsting ***

Character A is happily dating his most current girlfriend, and everything seems to be going perfectly. That is until he meets her brother, Character B. As it turns out, Character B is a very openly gay man with a long history of seducing and discarding men. Having set his sights on Character A, Character B decides to seduce him away from his sister.

PAIRINGS:
Incubus/Succubus/Cupid x Clergyperson
• Loan Shark/Thug x Debtor
Dom Top x Sub Bottom in Denial
• Creator x Horny Creation
• Voyeur x Exhibitionist
Pirate Captain x Hostage
• Prostitute x Client/Prostitute
• Seducer x Sister's Boyfriend

TROPES:
• Fighting for Dominance
• Taste of Their Own Medicine
• "100% Straight Guy" is Secretly a Cockslut
• "We Should Practice on Each Other"
• Teaching/Demonstrating
• Body Swapping
• Sex Pollen
• Bad Boy x Good Boy
• Stuck Together/Forced Proximity
• Breaking Chastity
• Lots of Stamina
• Extremely Seductive Supernatural Entities
• Sex as a Ritual
• Sex as Payment
 
More content added as of 07/22.
 
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