#capernoited

[bsynat1nm6nfb]

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#challot #mobbie #gold-containing #ballam #legitimisation #toxoplasmic #gowds #hyperdeified #beprose #ME #refell #ovational #warantee #wizen-hearted #Duna #capernoited #lactometer #organism #Hansen #tromometer

[t3acupz]

Brownham: Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy. <3

Matthew was starting to feel cooped up from only going between the mom-and-pop grocery store and Will’s house. When the FBI profiler got back from teaching at Quantico, Matthew made a surprising suggestion, “Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”

Will raised an eyebrow at the request, “The only place that’s near us is some honky-tonk cowboy bar.”

“Do they serve drinks?” Matthew retorted with his sheepish, lopsided smirk. Will sighed, knowing he’s not winning this one.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Will drove them a few miles down the road to a grungy looking building with a tacky neon sign out front reading OUTLAWS SALOON in flashing lights. Will glanced over at Matthew, “We can still turn around now, and go home.”

But Matthew was already one foot out the door, looking around like a kid at a candy store. There was no greeter at the entrance so they chose a small table near the wall of old family pictures. After an awkward few minutes, an older waitress with overly-bleached hair approached them.

“What’ya boys be havin’ tonight?” She popped her gum as she handed them the laminated menus. Will scanned it over, and quickly ordered a cheeseburger with a whisky on the rocks. “How about you, youngin’?” The woman gave Matthew a once over, trying to discern if the two men in front of her were just friends or something… more.

“I’ll have the same but make mine a beer, whatever’s on tap,” Matthew handed her back the menus with a faux smile.

After an hour had gone by, and both of them were sufficiently stuffed and intoxicated, the music in the bar seemed to grow even louder.

“I love country music,” Will laughed, glancing over at the two other couples dancing together on the small dance floor. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Matthew patted his full belly, and leaned back in his chair. He could see the spirits loosening Will’s inhibitions, the flush creeping over the older man’s face. Without warning, Matthew stood up and grabbed Will’s hand. “Come with me.”

Will tried to pull back but was overpowered by Matthew’s unexpected strength. Green eyes flashing with mischievous intent, Matthew dragged Will over to the other couples who now stopped dancing, and shot the two of them vile looks of disgust. A new song started playing, one with a slower melody, and Matthew put both arms around Will’s neck and pressed their bodies together.

“Matthew, are you sure? Here, of all places?” Will muttered to the younger man.

“Let them look.” Matthew kissed Will, tasting the spiced whisky on his tongue. They moved awkwardly at first until Will finally wrapped his hands around Matthew’s hips, and their rhythms became synchronized.

“I’ve never done this before,” Will smiled into the crook of Matthew’s neck. He felt so safe with Matthew, the younger man was bolder than he was at his age. The other couples had exited the dance floor, and it felt like it was just them alone in the world — together.

Will brought his hands lower, and placed them into Matthew’s back pockets. “Mr. Graham, here, of all places?” Matthew joked, kissing Will deeply and rubbing their cocks together through their jeans. Will moaned into Matthew’s ear, and continued their public frottage to the uptempo song that was playing in the background.

“C’mon, let’s finish this at home, I’ll drive.” Matthew chuckled, throwing a fifty on their table, and leading a tipsy Will to the door as the waitress who served them earlier shook her head. “Keep the change!”

#ask #brownham #they’re country boys now #asdhaskdjhask #brokeback mountain but with a happy ending #fic

[whumpshaped]

Capernoited for Poisoned Ivy

once again, this has been sitting in my drafts half-written for all of eternity. enjoy

poisoned ivy masterlist

Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

tw forced to drink, blackmail, bullying, threat of violence, being taken advantage of (nonsexual), nonsexual nudity

"No, no, Bryce, please, I don't want to, I've never been–"

"There's a first time for everything, stop whining. It'll be fun."

"I don't want to have fun!" Nate was on the verge of tears, desperately trying to pull his hand out of Bryce's grasp. But he was bigger, and stronger, and even if he wasn't... he had the pictures. "Please, I'm scared. I'm scared, okay? I, I don't want to be ridiculed, and– and–"

"No one's gonna bully you, jeez." Bryce looked at him like he was some sort of idiot. As if he'd never been bullied in his entire life, as if Bryce wasnt the one bullying him. "Relax for once in your life."

"Can I go home early? Please?"

"Not before you've had a drink. Hell, I bet you'll want to stay after that. Maybe you'll even be a little less insufferable. Maybe you'll make friends!"

"Why would you even want me to make friends?"

Bryce stopped for a moment, considering him. Nate felt incredibly stupid. He shouldn't have asked that. Yeah, sure, maybe it'd make Bryce realise that it was actually in his best interest not to drag him anywhere public, but at the same time, he kind of liked the promise of friends. He wanted friends. Would alcohol really make him easier to get along with?

"I just want to," he settled on, and Nate couldn't decide on an appropriate reaction to that. "Come on, I can see that you're starting to like the idea too."

Nate didn't have a choice as he was dragged inside and immediately directed towards the table with all the drinks. Fuck, he kind of wished Bryce would stay with him. Maybe to supervise? Or maybe because he was the only one he actually knew? But he suppressed the urge to grab onto his shirt sleeve like some kid, and actually walked over to that damn table on his own.

He could do this.

Bryce said alcohol would make him tolerable.

He eyed the liquids warily, trying to guess which one would be the least horrendous. Maybe the wine? There was a lot of wine.

Before he could finalise his decision, someone bumped into him, making him yelp in surprise. As he turned to look at the intruder, he had the distinct feeling that he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn't think straight with the loud music and the stress of being in such a crowded space.

"Nate?" Great. She knew who he was. He should've definitely remembered her name too. And why did she seem so delighted? "Nate! I didn't peg you as a partygoer!"

"That's probably because I'm not," he said awkwardly, earning a sincere laugh. She was definitely drunk.

"You are, you are! You're here, aren't you?" She didn't give any indication of noticing his discomfort, or even his confusion at her person, because she just went on babbling. "First drink of the night? I definitely recommend that one. It's like, it's pretty tasty, but it also hits you well. Here, let me–"

"I'll do it," he said hastily, taking the bottle from her hand. He didn't want to see her attempt to pour drinks in this state.

"Ah, then pour me another one too?" She held out her little plastic cup before Nate was even done pouring for himself.

"Maybe you shouldn't–"

"Just one more, Nate. It's Friday. Relax."

If anyone said that word again, Nate was sure he'd lose it.

He hesitantly poured her some, and then some more when she expressed her discontent with the previous, safe amount. But other than that... she was very friendly. In fact, her rambles were incredibly endearing, and Nate found himself getting caught up in some petty drama he'd never even heard of before. He recognised the names, mostly, but he had no idea about any of the gossip.

Halfway through he realised that the girl was Ashley, one of Cindy's countless friends. He must've seen her a couple times around the frat house. Or maybe on campus? Bryce hung around his girlfriend's friend group almost as much as his own, and the two overlapped quite a bit as well.

The discovery honestly didn't make him very happy. The last time he'd interacted with anyone from that clique, he'd gotten himself into a blackmail situation. And he was even drinking now.

But Ashley was so nice to him. Bryce was right about the alcohol, it really did help him relax. Around the third cup, he found he could laugh along with her easily. He kind of felt like a regular guy, almost like he belonged.

And then Ashley was whisked away by two other guys, one of which Nate assumed was her boyfriend. "What are you thinking? With Nate?"

"Oh my god, why are you saying it like that? We were just talking!"

"It sure seemed like you were having an awfully good time."

"You're such a dick, Theo. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid, possessive attitude. Cheating on you has never even crossed my fucking mind, let alone with Nate, but now I'm starting to see the appeal."

The words processed in his brain slower than usual. At first, he felt the fear of what these other guys would do to him. Then it was pain, from Ashley having mentioned his name in a tone that made him feel like a piece of garbage. Someone utterly undesirable and unwanted. And then it was terror when the guy — Theo? — turned to actually look at him.

"Oh yeah? You see the appeal?" he repeated back, staring Nate down while saying it. Personally, Nate felt like he was about to faint.

"I– I am so sorry," he stammered. He quickly put his cup back on the table and backed up, bumping into someone else. He whipped around to see the damage, and he saw Bryce with a growing puddle of alcohol on his shirt from where he'd made him spill his drink.

"Well, that's nice," he sighed.

"I'm sorry!" Nate said, even more desperate. "I'm sorry, please, I need to go home, I'm sorry–"

"What's going on?"

"Theo is being a fucking asshole, that's what," Ashley chimed in. "I can't talk to a single person on campus without being accused of something."

"Woah, wait, he thinks you're about to cheat on him? With–" Bryce nodded towards Nate, who was basically cowering behind him at this point.

"He was all over her!" Theo yelled back over the music, and Ashley buried her face in her hands.

"No, he wasn't! I was laughing, and I lost my balance, and I had to grab onto something! And I grabbed onto him! And he grabbed onto me to help me not fall on my ass!"

"You have some serious issues to work on," Bryce said with a laugh. "And I need to go change my shirt and bring this poor guy back to the dorm."

Nate couldn't have been happier to hear that.

-

"So, you've made some friends, huh?"

"She was nice to me," Nate sobbed, shamelessly leaning against Bryce as he tried to stumble back to his room. "I don't understand what I did wrong. I thought it was going well. I just wanted to– to not be alone for once..."

"Poor thing." He opened the door to Nate's room with his own key, since he had made a copy of it a while back, and ushered him inside. "It'd be better to forget the whole night, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah... I just– I just want to go to sleep, please..."

"I bet you do. I'll help you get into bed."

Undressing a drunk Nate was surprisingly easy. It seemed like all his reservations were gone, and he had no problem letting Bryce handle him like a little doll. As he flopped down onto his bed, he didn't even seem to notice Bryce taking out his phone.

"Thank you for helping me," he slurred, just as Bryce was about to snap a picture for his 'blackmail material' folder.

"Aw..." He lowered his phone a little, momentarily charmed by the vulnerable display. "You're welcome, Nate."

"I've never been to a party, you know," he went on. "I've... I've been invited. I've always thought it was a joke..."

"And now look at you! You've impressed Ashley to the point that Theo thought you were stealing his girlfriend."

Nate groaned, making Bryce chuckle. "As if– as if any girl would even look at me. It's so stupid. It's not like I'm you." He closed his eyes, and Bryce raised his phone again with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Oh, don't be like that." He snapped a couple photos, nice and clear. "I'm sure you'll find someone lovely for yourself eventually."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland

#whump #whump writing #nathaniel #bryce #poisoned ivy #forced to drink #blackmail #bullying #threat of violence #being taken advantage of (nonsexual) #nonsexual nudity #alcohol

[jovenshires]

capernoited from ask game for spommy! i just thought tipsy tommy or spencer pre relationship would be cute while the other takes care of them

Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

i put a little under the cut bc this got away from me a lil but i hope you enjoy!! (btw if you like this concept you can go check out spencer vs. gay panic by soupy for a different but excellent take!!)

send me a word and a character/pairing!

The way that Tommy laughs reverberates all the way through Spencer's body. It starts where Tommy's mouth meets the junction of his neck; it echoes through his collarbone and down his chest. He feels it everywhere. He aches with it.

"Alright," he says, "up and at 'em."

With the shoulder under Tommy's arm, he nudges him 'til he's standing upright again. Sure, he's still leaning on Spencer, but at least he's not fully draped across him now. Spencer can finally see as he guides them both down the hallway of Tommy's apartment building. Still, Tommy whines. "But you smell nice," he says.

He knows that Tommy's drunk; he doesn't know what he's saying, but Spencer feels his face heat up anyway. Later, when he recalls this story, he'll blame it on anything else - Tommy's body heat rolling off of him in waves, the apartment being stiflingly hot, or his sweater being too heavy for the LA weather. He won't blame it on a nice compliment from a beautiful boy.

"Thanks," he says, ignoring how pink his ears have probably gone. "I'd say the same, but you smell a lot like tequila."

Tommy laughs, because he's drunk, and he laughs at everything when he's drunk. Spencer's seen him like this before; they've gone out drinking plenty of times. Well, Tommy drinks, and Spencer watches from afar. He yearns and says nothing and drinks his sad, overpriced Sprite. He finds it works best that way - when Tommy just exists and Spencer just pines. Like Tommy's a comet and he's wishing from the ground. But tonight, for some reason, he'd volunteered to take Tommy home.

"You're funny," Tommy says suddenly. "And pretty."

This is why he's better off on the ground, he remembers suddenly. Tommy is a giddy drunk, a clingy drunk, and a flirty drunk. And Spencer is halfway in love with him. The combination of those factors leads to borderline torture - wonderful, yet excruciating torture.

Without another way to respond, Spencer snorts. "And you're drunk."

At that, Tommy sighs, like Spencer had just spoken an irrefutable truth. "Yeah," he says loftily. "But I'm just drunk now. You're always pretty."

Like he said: torture. Spencer doesn't have anything to say to that, and luckily, they've made it to Tommy's front door, so instead of saying anything, he just reaches for the keys stuffed into his back pocket. With a click, the door opens, and he lets them inside. "C'mon," he says. He flicks on the light, thankful he's hung out at Tommy's apartment enough to know the layout. For his part, Tommy just stumbles in beside him, laughing at nothing as Spencer closes the door. His arm feels heavy on Spencer's shoulders, but it's a weight he's glad to share.

"You're so nice to me," Tommy says as they shuffle together towards his bedroom. "You're, like, the best."

Actually, Spencer's far from the best. He's selfish - he volunteered to take Tommy home, even though Damien could have done it just as easily. For once, he'd gotten the courage to get a little closer, to keep Tommy's brilliant light to himself. But he doesn't say as much. He just opens the bedroom door, flips the switch to the overhead light, and leads Tommy to bed. "Easy, dude," he mutters, supporting Tommy's weight as he climbs in. He doesn't even bother sliding under the covers. Spencer sighs and looks around for another blanket to drape over him instead.

He spots one in the corner of the room and moves to grab it when suddenly he hears Tommy whine again. "Don't go," he says petulantly. "Stay."

Spencer freezes and looks over his shoulder. Tommy's looking at him with a furrowed brow and wide eyes, like he's afraid that Spencer's going to leave. It makes Spencer frown. "I won't, dude," he says. "Promise."

This time, when he goes for the blanket, Tommy says nothing, though Spencer can see him pouting out of the corner of his eye. What a baby, Spencer thinks, but he doesn't mean it. He's pretty sure Tommy could ask him for anything right now and he'd do it, no questions asked. He brings it back and drapes it over Tommy's lanky frame, covering him up. Tommy sighs happily and lets himself fall deeper into the bed, comfortable and warm. "I'm gonna go get you a glass of water, okay?" Spencer asks, and Tommy furrows his brows. "I'll be back in, like, two minutes, tops."

Tommy sighs but doesn't object. He lets Spencer leave the bedroom and head down the hallway to Tommy's kitchen. He roots around but finds the glasses easily enough, and on second thought, hunts down some aspirin, too. When he comes back, he's surprised to find that Tommy's still awake, raising his head a little as Spencer's feet find a creaky floorboard. "Here," he says. He hands Tommy the water and puts the aspirin down on the bedside table. He watches as Tommy takes a few long, thirsty sips, his Adam's apple bobbing with it, and Spencer tries not to focus on that too much. "Good, now you can't hate me in the morning."

Tommy stops drinking and puts the glass down on the table, glaring at Spencer as he does so. "Couldn't hate you," he says sincerely, and Spencer tries not to focus on that, either.

"Right," he says, awkward even to his own ears. "Well, now that you're all good, I - I should really get going, Tommy."

"No," Tommy whines again. He reaches out and grabs Spencer by the wrist. "Stay, please?"

Spencer is trying his damn best not to cave. Not without a fight, at least. "It's late, man, and I don't want this to be weird."

Tommy shakes his head emphatically. "Please. Just stay, just for tonight. I just need to like..." He gestures with the hand that's not holding onto Spencer, waving at the room around them. "Remember this was real. Remember you like this. Okay?"

It's like he said - he'd do anything, no questions asked. So he sighs and relents: "Fine. I'll be on the couch, alright?" Tommy pouts again, but Spencer shakes his head. "Absolutely not budging on that. Promise, I'll be here all night." At Tommy's doubtful look, he adds, "I wouldn't lie to you, would I?"

Tommy sighs again, like Spencer's said something that makes so much sense. "No," he says. He squeezes Spencer's wrist and curls deeper into his pillow. "Okay. See you tomorrow, Spencer."

When Tommy lets go, he knows he feels a little colder, but he refuses to examine why. "Night, Tommy," he says. He waits for a moment to listen to Tommy's breathing even out before he goes. He finds a notepad in one of the kitchen drawers, writes a warning to Tommy for the morning, and sticks it on the nightstand with the aspirin. Then he heads for the couch, kicking off his shoes and settling in for the night. He's a lot of things - selfish, yeah. An idiot, maybe. But he's not a liar. Not even if Tommy probably won't remember the whole thing in the morning.

He drifts to sleep on Tommy's couch, the long night finally taking its toll on him, and dreams of comets and beautiful boys.

#spommy #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #katie writes #fic #anon #anonymous #ask #asks #spencer #tommy #shipping #fic*

[rosella-writes]

happy dadwc rosellaaaaaaaa!! could we see "Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy." from the word prompts, for either solavellan or valor/pride, if you're so inclined🥺💜

cute cute CUTE THANK YOU. This is a direct continuation of this.

Rating: M for nip nops for @dadrunkwriting Pride=Solas, Hope=Felassan, Valor=Virelan Lavellan in Arlathan

~~~

Pride welcomed Valor onto the chaise beside her with a deep, indulgent chuckle. She raised one arm to rest on the back of the furniture as Valor settled against her side, then laid it to rest on her shoulder. Rings flashed on her long, slender fingers.

"You're peacocking," Hope said, drawing close and raising his curved finger to Pride's chin. His violet eyes glittered. "And how pretty you look doing it."

"Careful," Pride scolded, gesturing lazily with her wineglass. "Deceit is looking our way."

Hope glanced over his shoulder, sending his glossy black braids spinning, then turned back with a scoff. "I find it difficult to believe you care."

"Of course I do!" She flicked her finger, setting her wineglass free to float upon the air, then grasped the front of Hope's robe and drew him close. A smile lingered on her scarlet lips. "I wish to make them green with envy."

Valor watched with an indulgent smile as Pride set Hope off balance enough to tug him down into a kiss. She absently played her fingers across the silky, plunging collar of Pride's dress until she found skin — it was flushed warm to the touch. She slid the edge of her thumb up and across until she brushed against one of those bared, pierced nipples and made Pride gasp into Hope's mouth.

"Rude," she whispered, pulling away from their love with the wet sound of parting lips. She locked them onto Valor's instead with a self-indulgent groan.

Valor hooked her leg over Pride's lap, making sure to press her knee where it counted. She splayed her fingers across the warmth of Pride's bare chest, and grinned into the kiss when she felt Hope settle on her other side.

"You know I can't keep my hands off you when you look like this," she muttered in the sudden space between their mouths.

Pride huffed a laugh, then kissed her again. She swept the taste of sweet wine behind Valor's teeth with her tongue. "Such was my goal."

Valor pulled away, drunk on the taste of her, and gazed at a Pride illuminated by dim candlelight and floating magefire. She positively glowed — all creamy skin and pale silk and auburn hair. Freckles dusted the planes of her chest, and Valor traced their constellations with her fingertips. Hope reached out from her other side, smiling to himself, and tugged at Pride's chin — he took her mouth in a consuming kiss, pulling her head back against his sternum and baring the lines of her flushed throat. Valor so badly wished to lay her teeth into that unmarred skin and leave a trail of bruised kisses.

"You're drunk," Hope chuckled, pulling away just far enough to bump Pride's nose with his own.

Pride wrinkled her nose in response. "Tipsy, only. Pleasantly so."

Valor reached up and plucked Pride's wineglass out of the air, placing her own lips upon its rim. She drained it dry, drinking all but a single sip that she kept in the cup of her tongue, and kissed that sip deep into Pride's mouth.

When she pulled away, she placed an open hand on Pride's throat.

"Swallow," she told her.

Pride held her gaze, pupils blown wide and colour high on her sharp cheeks. Her throat moved under Valor's palm.

"Now," Pride whispered, "do I need to beg? Or will one of you please see me out of this ballroom and out of this dress?"

Valor's eyes met Hope's eager ones over Pride's shoulder. After a beat of time, the two of them moved in a flash.

The wineglass, abandoned, tipped onto its side and smeared its red onto the bare flagstones in their wake.

#dadwc #dragon age #my writing #no refuge so sure as valor #pride #hope #valor #valor x hope #valor x pride #hope x pride #hope x pride x valor #arlathan au #arlathan #solas #felassan

[ladyfenring]

capernoited + eardwulf

His nerves are so shot from fear and exhaustion that when he first sees her, he thinks, for half a heartbeat, that she’s his sister.

“Eadith?” he mumbles, turning and taking a staggering step towards her.

But the fog of exhaustions clears and he realizes that this timid doe of a woman couldn’t possibly be Eadith. She’s too old to be Eadith, the red of her hair too dull, her dress too plain to be anything his sister would ever wear. Even the simple wooden cross that hangs from her neck is so different from the silver that adorns his sister’s. 

“My name is Mildrith,” the woman says quietly.

A nun, he realizes. If Brida sees her, she’ll kill her, and if Sigtryggr’s men see her, they’ll rape her and then kill her. 

“Help me,” she whispers. “Please.”

He hesitates. He’s survived thus far by the skin of his teeth; helping this Saxon nun may be his undoing.

And yet…she reminds him of Eadith.

Cursing himself for a fool, he takes her hand. “Come with me.”

She looks up at him as though she’s never seen anything so wonderful. That’s another reason he knows she couldn’t possibly be his sister. 

.

He hides her in a house that’s been so thoroughly looted there’s no danger of Sigtryggr’s men returning. He brings her food when he can manage it, and she always gives him that look, as though he’s done something saintly in helping her. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he only did it because she reminds him of the sister he loves in a way that is anything but saintly.

“You remind me of someone I once knew,” she tells him sometimes. “He always tried to do the right thing, but there were others…who were determined to see the worst in him.” Her face falls, and he doesn’t have to ask who won, in the end.

It’s oddly comforting, to know that this woman thinks he’s capable of doing the right thing. His life these days seems like one lapse in judgment after another, but Mildrith looks at him as though he is the answer to her prayers. He wishes it was enough, that he could take solace in her belief, but his thoughts keep straying back to another woman, a woman who used to look at him with the same tender devotion until Uhtred of Bebbanburg poisoned her against him. 

The ache in his chest grows stronger with every passing day, and only the taste of the bitter Winchester ale can ease it. He and Eadith have never been parted for more than a few days at a time, and they’ve never had a rift like this before. He doesn’t know where she is or what she’s doing. She could have gotten the sickness. She could be on her way to Frankia. Or she could be parting her legs for Uhtred even now.

It is this thought that makes him slam down his cup of ale, too sick at heart to drink anymore. He gets up, walking to the only refuge he knows in this wretched place. 

He doesn’t mean for it to happen the way that it does, but Mildrith is there, with her red hair and that adoring gaze, and when he stumbles blindly towards her, she doesn’t push him away or protest at all; she just opens her arms and draws him close, as though she’s been waiting for this. 

He knows she was married before, and either it’s been a very long time or her husband didn’t know what he was doing, because Mildrith clutches Eardwulf’s shoulders and cries out over and over as though she’s never been made love to before, as though she’s never known happiness until now.

Eardwulf screws his eyes shut and pretends she’s a different woman.

After, when she’s fallen asleep, he sits on the edge of the bed and wishes he’d finished that cup of ale. He and Mildrith keep playing this game, pretending the other is someone they’re not, but it’s gone too far now, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to withstand the rest of the siege like this.

He slips out of the house and is debating just doing something incredibly stupid to see if it will get him killed or not when a flash of red hair catches his eye and he pauses.

He’s been wrong before, but the woman stares back at him, eyes wide, and he swallows.

Eadith.

#¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #eardwulf #Eardwulf x Eadith #Eardwulf x mildrith #I SUPPOSE #mildrith #the last kingdom #flowers in mercia #fic by me

[nirikeehan]

Rare Word Prompts

Cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someone's lips.

Quidnunc - One who always has to know what is going on.

Ultracrepidarian - Of one who speaks or offers opinions on matters beyond their knowledge.

Apodyopis - The act of mentally undressing someone.

Gymnophoria - The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.

Tarantism - The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.

Autolatry - The worship of one’s self.

Cagamosis - An unhappy marriage.

Gargalesthesia - The sensation caused by tickling.

Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

Lalochezia - The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain.

Cataglottism - Kissing with tongue.

Basorexia - An overwhelming desire to kiss.

Brontide - The low rumbling of distant thunder. - Fill, Cullen, Vivienne, Thalia

Grapholagnia - The urge to stare at obscene pictures.

Agelast - A person who never laughs.

Wanweird - An unhappy fate.

Dystopia - Am imaginary place of total misery. A metaphor for hell.

Petrichor - The smell of rain on dry ground.

Anagapesis - The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did.

Malapert - Clever in manners of speech.

Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm.

Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.

Strikhedonia - The pleasure of being able to say “to hell with it”.

Lygerastia - The condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out.

Ayurnamat - The philosophy that there is no point in worrying about events that cannot be changed.

Sphallolalia - Flirtatious talk that leads no where.

Baisemain - A kiss on the hand. - Fill, Thalia/Garrett Hawke

Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside. - Fill, Cullen & Laela Trevelyan

Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.

Found here, recreating to keep track of prompt fills. (Original source no longer up)

#writing prompts

[januaryagain]

Women: Characterised by Linguistics

Vagary, the journey of a woman. It’s a curse, a comfort, a constant feeling of required nepenthe. Centuries of sequenced palinoia returns in rounds to cicurate my consciousness, and so suddenly it becomes apparent that a promotion of equanimity is as senseless as it is ludicrous. I float in a state of dwale, induced by the hebephrenic onset of revelation and some unfound seed of munificence gifted by God. It may be in the name, but that doesn’t mean my sex should induce your aprosexia. I am not some euphuistic casuistry for your indignant thoughts. It is an insult to be treated as inanimate. Even promoted as a cinder slab, I am somehow still further from the subject of naology than the devil himself. My anatomy means it is certain that life is testudineous; I am filled to the tips of my fingers with agowilt. It seems as though I am mute and some non-corporeal being is stretching a hand out covered in braille. Louring in the shadow of the solecism present in the pronunciation of ‘she’ as a noun, capernoited by these malignant venters that approach my feet. They effleurage my lips as though to distract me from your scurrilous persona. Your raffish grace, you balter with my saudade until it’s quivering at the yearn for some concupiscible accentuation on your tongue. Meritless and tawdry, there is an inclination of false alpas in your touch and it is glistening. It is breathless as I flit from my cradle, as elderly and demure as I’ll ever be. I touch the ground for the first and last time, untethered in this ‘holy’ demarcation.

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Capernoited with anyone plzzz love your work btw

Ahaha, I'm really feeling inspired with pre-capture Devin today, so I hope you enjoy glimpse into their life!

Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

Stumbling into their apartment, they threw their keys onto the counter, before shakily making their way over to their bedroom.

They were only able to swallow a couple Advil before their body demanded they lay down.

They could still see the flashing lights pulsing above them, hear the thunderous music and stomping feet, smell the salty tang of sweat mingling with the sharp scent of alcohol, feel the hot, writhing bodies around them.

They could still see the eyes staring deep into their own, hear the murmured words spoken into their ear, smell the comforting cologne wrapping around them, feel the hands pressing into their waist. They could still feel the constant, overwhelming sense of loneliness withdraw, if only for a moment.

With a groan, they flopped face first into their pillow that smelled like themself.

I must be drunker than I thought, they remembered thinking before they fell asleep.

The next morning, Devin woke up to three missed calls and over twenty text messages, all from the same person. Deleting them with a sigh, they pulled themself out of bed and began to get ready for a party they had to crash tonight.

#the scoop of a lifetime prequel #devin connally #and ??? oc #is it the same one? #who's to say? #whump #whump writing #capernoited #the scoop of a lifetime

[iheartizana]

Tokyo Revengers NSFW visuals

MDNI!!!!!!

Izana : redamancy ; alexithymia ;

agape ; duende

Kakucho : torpe ; kalon ;

elysian ; fika

Rindou : flawsome ; floudroyant ;

latibule ; yuanfen

Ran : zenosyne ; ineffable ;

orphic ; phosphenes ; eesome

Shinichiro : euphoria ; strikhedonia ;

lethologica ; capernoited

Mikey : skinny love ; ukiyo ;

aeipathy ; philocaly

Kazutora : katallagé ; akrasia ;

élan ; alate

Sanzu : cafuné ; cicatrize ;

morosis ; meraki ; kefi

#tokyo revengers izana #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa smut #izana smut #tokyo revengers ran #ran haitani #ran haitani smut #ran smut #ran x reader #kakucho hitto #tokyo revengers kakucho #kakucho hitto smut #kakucho smut #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani smut #bonten rindou #rindou smut #rindo smut #shinichiro sano #shinichiro smut #shinichiro sano smut #manjiro sano #tokyo revengers mikey #sanzu smut #mikey smut #kazutora smut

[ohbae-me]

Obey Me Scenario Masterlist

---Lucifer

Catching Him Masturbating (NSFW)

Breathy Kiss (Mostly SFW)

---Mammon

Mammon’s Treasure (SFW)

You’re An Asshole (SFW)

Homesick (SFW)

A Breathy Kiss (SFW)

You Said Be Honest, Quit Hitting Me! (SFW) (Sequel to Be You)

Dom!MC (NSFW)

Comforting Fem!MC (SFW)

Well Deserved (SFW)

A Kiss Against A Wall (SFW)

---Leviathan

How Are You Still Horny?! (NSFW)

Sleepy Hugs (SFW)

---Satan

Are You Sure You Want To Do This? (NSFW)

Yoga Session (NSFW)

Forget Him (NSFW)

I Told You Not To Fall In Love With Me (SFW - TW Violence)

I wish I Could Hate You (SFW)

---Asmodeus

Realizing He Loves MC (SFW)

---Beelzebub

Nightmare

Basorexia/Capernoited (SFW)

---Belphegor

Beg For It (NSFW) -- Being Rewritten

---Undateables

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me writing #lord diavolo #diavolo #obey me diavolo #Simeon #solomon #shepwrites #masterlist #prompt list #swd obey me #obey me swd

[captmickey]

Capernoited, the sam and max series?

Sam and Max, for all of their boisterous and bragging that they tend to drop in the midst of their banters of how amazing and slick they were (which was debatable at best), were not the types that were able to hold their liquor. They weren’t a light weights either, but it only took two drinks of whatever it was that they were having to render them useless, their sharp words becoming dulled blathers. 

And yet, neither of them would admit it. In fact, it was because of the lack of admitting that they often found themselves drinking (once more, only two drinks) to see which one of the two could still retain their ability on the English language. 

The night would always start the same like a bizarre, alcohol caused Groundhog’s Day: they would ‘agree’ to not drink too much so as not repeat Tuesday night, recall what happened on Tuesday night, misremember in the most grandiose way possible and decide to repeat Tuesday night just to prove a point. And the point will never be made as the bit that they constantly misremembered would happen again in an endless drunken pattern. 

What would happen, more often than not, would be that it was Max that found himself being able to hold down his drinks better, but not by much, considering he would affectionally grip Sam while giving just a single warning to anyone who tried to separate the duo. Sam, however, would just quietly mumble to himself, looking about ready to break into a ballad about who knows what since his words would slur into one another until it became one giant knotted mess of a sentence before deciding that what would help clear his head would be to hop into the DeSoto and speed down the highway to feel the wind in his face. Max, naturally, would agree, argue that he should drive, but end up surfing on the hood of the car with his pistol in hand firing haphazardly in the air with Sam leaning his head out the window. 

Then, from there, they would be at their office, cackling about the fear they had inadvertently inflicted on the drivers and pedestrians alike and proceed to pass out on the tatter couch until Sam’s stomach wakes the two for the following morning.

And every time, the two will simply not remember what happened outside the blurred imagery.

This was the inebriated status of the Freelance Police. 

(x)

#sam and max #mickey writes

[missn11]

First Line Meme

So @badass-at-fandoming tagged me for this really fun meme, and I’m excited since I do have exactly 20 fics, lol!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Tagging @devil-latte , @robotslenderman, @vampemoqueen, @lost-toreador-in-la @midnight-musings-at-venturetower, @ryttu3k, @iravaid, @helenedenothing

1. A Traitorous Affair https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617743/chapters/51548065  Sebastian LaCroix impatiently tapped his fingers on the bar top and looked down at his wristwatch for what felt like the hundredth time.

2. Kiss me we’re out of time https://archiveofourown.org/works/30578201  Nines looked over his shoulder for what felt like the fifteenth hundredth time to confirm that he was truly alone in the back alleys of Chinatown.

3. Kiss me to shut me up https://archiveofourown.org/works/30577568  Ming Xiao was shaking as she made her way out of Downtown, her mind reeling from what she had just done. It would be considered pure insanity telling the adopted childe of Prince Sebastian LaCroix about everything, the alliance, and their framing of Nines for the murder of Grout, but the most ludicrous of it all, she had also told them about the key to the sarcophagus.  

4. A kiss without motive https://archiveofourown.org/works/30577241  Nines watched the gentle waves wash over the sandy shore from the cliffside perch where he was sitting with Sebastian next to him, his head resting on his shoulder and their fingers linked together.

5. These Nights of Regret https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794310/chapters/54472147  The sound of the slow pounding bass playing in the nightclub and the light chatter of the mortals at the bar filled Nines Rodriguez’s ears, taking little of the edge off of his troubled mind.

6. Sweet Corruption into Enlightenment https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584833/chapters/72715608  The stars shone so bright in the night sky tonight that Sebastian LaCroix was able to see the constellations that covered Nuit’s body, Nuit the Queen of Infinite Space, the Sky Goddess, Mother of all the Gods including his favourite God and Father of his clan, Set.  

7. Tender Entrapment by the Brujah and the Ventrue https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883775  Ming Xiao sighed under her breath with annoyance as her cell phone vibrated insistently in her dress pocket.

8. Submitting to the Priestess and the Rebel https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150188  Sebastian LaCroix idly swirled the champagne in his glass as he half-listened to the Mayor’s idiotic son prattle on about the latest party he had hosted on his father’s new yacht.

9. Capernoited https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929524  Pushing around the last piece of her chicken tarragon and cream sauce with her fork, Ming Xiao huffed with boredom.  

10. In the dark passions rise https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598469  Sebastian’s posture appeared painfully straight, his movements completely stiff and formal in the blaring lights as he led Nines by the hand through the back hallways of the Nocturne Theatre.

11. New Beginnings and Tickles https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089251  Nines could feel his shoulders relax as he stepped through the doors of the entrance hall of the Skyline apartments.

12. Hindsight is a Bitch https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990186  The heavens poured out heavily onto the streets of Seattle, as they did regularly, unlike in California.

13. The Beginning of the Wrongs Committed https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183637  October 14, 1984 “I’m coming for you, LaCroix!”

14. Through the Eyes of Nostalgia https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007096/chapters/57753787  The moon was shining its silver rays through the window into Barbara’s darkened bedroom, illuminating the delicately decorated jewellery box on the nightstand, the golden flower accents turning into white gold in the moon light.

15. Drawn in by a Kuei-jin and a Prince https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437015  Nines’s night of going from bar to bar wasn’t as relaxing as he’d hoped.

16. Movie Night https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886368  The pouring rain hitting the windows and the blaring sirens off in the distance were the only sounds that Nines Rodriguez could hear on this quiet night.

17. The Chippendale Vampire Legend https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685032  It had been going so well for Derrick, he had just been having fun at Petey’s early Halloween party.

18. (is it cheating when I’m using a essay I posted on A03?” The Motives and Goals of Ming Xiao https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469839  One of the things I’ve had a hard time with when writing Ming Xiao is understanding her motives and goals for taking over LA.

19. (12 year old fic here and first vtmb fic and of course its a smut fic, lol) Who's in control? https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923253  Wet, Cold, chasing a goose in the wrong river, sent by the jester, he probably thinks this is funny, sitting all nice and snug and warm, snug as a bug in his den, wish I’d brought a fly swatter to smack him with!

20. (Lol finally a non vtmb fic!) The Pursuit of Science https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922653  The pursuit of knowledge was always important to Rose, or Dr. Rose, as she always preferred to be called, knowledge of the sciences, electricity, chemistry, gunsmithing, all the sciences she was proficient in.

It’s really interesting to see how most of the opening lines of my fics start with an action and a sense of emotion of what the character is feeling. Though I wished I could do more atmospheric openings since I think it just builds the mood of the fic real quick.

I enjoy the first line of both  Sweet Corruption into Enlightenment and Who’s in control? the most since they build a mood instantly and leave you wanting to know more imo. These Nights of Regret’s opening line is good too but Nines angsting is always good, lol! Over all I do like most of my opening lines.

thanks again to @badass-at-fandoming for tagging me in this, it was a lot of fun to have a look at the first lines of my fics so far! :D

#vampire the masquerade #Vampire The Masquerade Bloodlines #VTMB #Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura #Arcanum #tags #badass-at-fandoming

[ralbeleren]

Capernoited (God I hope I spelled that right) with Ronin Warriors (couldn't think of which ship or which character so I'll let you pick ;D)

Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

Ten years is a long time. A lifetime maybe. It felt so much different coming back. Maybe he shouldn't have-- it would have been easy to just ignore the message. Everything lost in the hype of the turn of a new century.

All the delays and drops and electronic interference from the new technology. Much easier to mistype an e-mail address that someone told you over a static-y landline than to write down the wrong mailing address from an old envelope.

When they used to write to one another-- blurry letters on a dim computer screen seems so much less intimate.

He shouldn't have come.

The party is at a swanky hotel, being catered by the restaurant-- but Cye stops off in the hotel bar and drinks a shot of whisky and then another-- until the burn of his throat subsides and there's a tingle in his limbs, and enough sloshy courage to make his way to the elevator and on up.

He leans against the wall and closes his eyes as his heart pounds and his palms sweat. He almost loses his nerve. Almost.

He doesn't recognize Yuli who is now taller than Cye himself and broad of shoulder and chest, all looking like the man he is now, with his pretty girlfriend glued to his side, as he introduces them, beaming. And he still sees him with wide brown eyes and skinned knees, scared but determined, kneeling on a broken bridge as they wait to see if Ryo will wake up.

The guest of honor. Cye swallows down the compulsion to run. Be like water, be like water.

White Blaze hasn't changed and he lays languidly on the couch, tail twitching. Mia and Sage are nearby, Sage with his hand on her shoulder as Mia fixes the bandana she's putting on white Blaze.

Rowen's with Kento at the buffet table, fighting over a cupcake despite there being a tower of them, all laid out in a spread. There's no one else, just them. Who else would come? Who else would understand?

Ryo's on the balcony, even this way, Cye recognizes the set of his shoulders, taut and strong. He has freckles dotting across the back of his neck, hair short like the popular styles of the day. Of course, Ryo-- on the cutting edge of it. Handsome Ryo. He must be drunker than he thought.

He grabs a beer from the table and drinks half of it in a long, breathless draw. He says his hellos, polite conversation, he wants to see everyone and talk about everything but he's compelled, like magnets.

Fire and water, opposites attracting.

He joins Ryo on the balcony and slings an arm over his shoulder. He clings to him as he finishes his beer, taking the rest in a long drink. Ryo turns his head towards him and smiles, bright eyes shining.

"Thirsty?" Ryo asks and he laughs.

(They're 14 again, he's never heard a sound that makes his heart stop in that way. The sound echoes in his head and bounces around there for the next few minutes-hours-days-weeksmonthsyears.)

"Ryo." Cye barely recognizes the sound of his own voice and he leans on Ryo more, blaming the liquid courage. But something else is burning down his throat now and he can't get rid of the sensation.

Ryo smiles at him.

Cye wants to run but he's got enough of a kick in the ass from being slightly drunk, he feels a little fuzzy.

Cye smiles back.

#ronin warriors #cye mouri #ryo sanada #rwensemble #mine #rwfic #lenesahara #prompt

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy. (With college Chris if u feeling it c: )

CW: Alcohol use, drunkenness. Sorry Chris wanted to rocket right past tipsy! Angsty boy hours. Referenced emeto + character death mention.

The drinks taste like chocolate or strawberries or cherry or lemon and sugar and they don’t taste like the liquor inside them at all. Chris does a shot called a Panty Dropper which is a stupid name for a drink and kind of a mean one and all the guys make fun of him for it but he doesn’t care, he downs it anyway, and it doesn’t taste like alcohol either.

Nothing tastes like what it is, just like Chris doesn’t look like what he is, just like everyone wears masks over their faces and Chris can only sometimes see through them. 

His phone buzzes and he answers texts with increasingly garbled letters and thoughts, letting the world spin around him. If he dances for a while the world slows again, but he chases that feeling back with another drink, another sip, another shot.

Don’t stop.

“Dude, slow down.” Will is at his shoulder, clapping him on the back, and Chris gives him a sweaty, hazy smile back in return. He could slide his arms so easily around Will, surprise him, maybe scare him. “You’re drinking like they’re starting Prohibition again, what’s the occasion?”

“No, no, no no no... no reason,” Chris says, and his phone buzzes again. He ignores it this time. Swallows back the twist and lurch of nausea in his stomach at what he’s going to do. But he’s coated his tongue with candy liquor and the world feels softer at the edges than it has in weeks.

I want this.

Slow down the circling train tracks in his mind, let the world smooth. He doesn’t have to filter all the things around him so much when he’s drunk, and he can see why people turn into drunks, on a night like this.

Another buzz. Another.

He sighs and looks down at his phone, squinting to focus on the letters. He feels the headache coming, and goes still, surprised. He hasn’t had a headache while reading texts in years.

chris are you drunk? your texts look super drunk tonight

yeah little bit drunk yeah

thank god for autocorrect there’s no way you typed that right. Can I come get you?

no thanks want to be by mself tonight

why?

Chris doesn’t answer them. Just slides his phone back in his pocket and lets it be and orders the drink.

Leaning over the bar, giving a dizzy-drunk smile just like Kauri’s to the bartender. Kauri’s gone home with this bartender before, before Kauri stopped going home with new people all the time, before he started going home with just the one.

“Hey, I, I, I-I-I need a another drink,” He shouts to be heard over the crowd, tilts his head and bites his lip. The bartender is interested, instantly interested. It always works, if they don’t know what you are.

Were.

If the mask holds.

I want you.

“Fine,” The bartender says, giving him a one-sided grin. Chris doesn’t want him but it doesn’t matter, does it? “What’ll it be?”

“Dirty martini,” Chris says, and his stomach flips and he ignores it. “Extra, um, extra ol-olives, please. Many as you’ll, you’ll give me.”

“Not your usual drink,” The bartender comments, already working. Chris watches him with eyes that still have an expert knowledge of what he should be doing and when and how. It’s going to be a good drink, but not as good as Chris could make it. “What’s up?”

I hate you.

Chris slides him a twenty, tells him to keep it, takes the drink without answering the question. He slips through the crowd to avoid Will, to lose him, to find a dark corner where he can curl around the martini and drink it and then go to the bathroom and throw it all back up again.

He holds the martini up in a pointless toast to no direction in particular.

It’s as good a way as any to celebrate the anniversary of a man’s death.

I miss you.

#chris the strawberry blond romantic #referenced character death #emeto mention #alcohol use tw #alcohol use #drinking tw #trauma recovery #ptsd tw

[gutwhump]

Rowan — Capernoited

Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

[[ CW: bbu, alcohol, abusive relationship, narrative misgendering of trans character ]]

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

“This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you,” Tybalt comments, raising the paper cup to his lips again. He’s wearing the best of his smiles. The smile that says he’s enjoying her company, rather than her pain.

“Mmmmm,” she responds. “I fit, um, a lot of rum in it, sir. And it still tastes okay.”

“It’s good. You don’t remember learning to make it?”

‘604 shakes her head.

“Well, I didn’t pay for that. Maybe it’s from before.”

Thinking about before doesn’t instill the immediate panic and headache that it usually would. Only the faintest discomfort.

“Yeahhh, maybe.”

She looks up at him from the floor with wide, brown eyes, suddenly overcome with a need for contact. The drink has numbed the part of her that normally fears his strong hands. All that’s left is the puppy-love drilled into her core. A chuckle drifts down from the couch.

“Alright, alright, come here,” Tybalt relents. In a matter of seconds, she scrambles into his lap, tucks her head under his chin, and squeezes him with a starving desperation. A hand finds its way under her shirt to rub her back, drawing out soft, pleased noises.

It’s a good thing he’s decided to be nice to her, while she’s like this. All fragile from the alcohol. If he’s too mean, she feels like she might break apart once and for all.

“Love you,” she murmurs against his chest. He smells like outside work, like danger, like home. “Love you, master, love-you-love-you-love-you.”

“I know you do, little thing,” he says kindly.

It’s good enough for her.

#whump #whumpblr #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #alcohol #abusive relationship #rowan #tybalt #abuse cw #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #pet whump #transphobia cw #misgendering cw