#Which makes sense considered I spent the longest on them lol

[dahldahlbills]

renga week warmups :]

day 2 - romance fest

day 3- food

day 4 - fantasy

day 5 - au (i chose ghost hunters lol)

day 6 - slice of life

[missmaywemeetagain]

Fireside - A Pink Scarf Universe Story 💗🧣💗

A/N: Apparently, I am not able to stay too far away from our darlin' Reader and Elvis, no matter how hard I try! I just love them too much. So, here is a sexy little blurb taking place in February 1970. I hope you enjoy, and maybe if this gets enough likes and traction, I'll release more and grow the "Pink Scarf Universe" lol, who knows?

If you haven't read Pink Scarf, read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist (though honestly you could probably read this without knowing their story it just won't be as fun for you without the background info 😂).

I will also say this isn't as heavily edited and revised as PS, but hopefully it's still readable...

TW: MINORS DNI 18+ SEXX. PS Daddy E is back! The usual filth with these two. Fluff. A tinge of angst at the beginning. 😏

Word Count: 4.4k

Fireside

Graceland, Late February 1970

Shivering as you make your way across the lawn, you pull your arms across your coat in tight, feeling a bit insolent and annoyed that you even have to trudge out here in the middle of the night. But Elvis had insisted, in that spontaneous way of his, that he must have a campfire tonight, of all nights, even though they all had just returned from his second engagement in Las Vegas and were all beat to hell with exhaustion. So, he and the guys had all tasked at building what you considered to be a too large and dangerous fire in out on the back lawn.

Perhaps you might be feeling more understanding if you hadn’t just spent two weeks away from him—the longest amount of time you’d been apart since August. You’d been sent home early after catching the monster flu that had been going around, which had turned quickly into a terrible bout of bronchitis. The desert air had done you no favors, and Elvis, along with the doctor, had sent you home to Memphis despite your protests. You were furious because Elvis, too, had caught the flu, but in that stubborn way of his had insisted on performing through it like an insane person.

“All these folks paid good money and flew in from all over to come see me, Satnin. I ain’t gonna disappoint them,” he’d said to you as you both coughed and raged with fever.

You were so mad he’d sent you home during your first engagement as one of his back-up singers that you were still stung by it. But you were also finding yourself increasingly needy for him along with your moodiness.

Which is why you find yourself out in the cold, sniffling, desperate for your fiancé to come inside and shower you with attention instead of living it up out in the cold with the guys he just spent a solid month with.

Your grumpiness is fueled as you approach the roaring flames and spot Elvis in his low Adirondack chair, laughing it up with the guys. You don’t like the feeling of jealousy that creeps over you at his attention being pulled away from you by these men. It’s silly, you know, just as you know it’s part of the package. Elvis’ light and charisma demands attention whether he means it to or not but having been away from him the past few weeks made you miss him in a way you haven’t felt before.

Part of you can’t escape how handsome he looks in the firelight, his smile wide and crinkling his lovely blue eyes. And that damn laugh of his is so contagious and musical that it almost—almost—pulls you out of your funk.

That tether between you has been pulled tight for too long and yanks you towards him out here in the cold. You stand over him sullenly for a moment until he raises those soulful eyes up to yours.

“Why ain’t you in bed, Satnin? You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch another chill,” Elvis says in what to him is a caring way yet to you feels almost dismissive. But he must see the needy look in your eyes and the tears brimming there because his voice softens and he adds, “Come ‘ere then,” and lifts the heavy blanket over his legs. A sense of deep relief falls over you as you slide sideways into his lap, throwing your legs across his, his warmth cocooning you. He pulls the heavy blanket up over you both and you snuggle into his chest.

Yes, this is what you need, you think, collapsing into him, his spicy familiar scent enveloping you, the heat of his body burning into yours. One arm circles around your back and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you ever closer. God, you missed this. You missed him. To think you spent so many years near him but without him… No wonder your brain concealed so much from you for so long—this yearning you feel is nearly unbearable and he is already yours.

You sigh into his neck, and he presses his chin down to look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers in your ear, his hand slipping under your coat to rub comforting circles at your waist. His slender fingers are cold, but you don’t care in the least.

“Missed you,” is all you can eek out in your sensitive, tearful state, your hand clutching at the front of his coat.

“Aww, darlin’, I’m right here,” he says, kissing the top of your head, then pressing his fire-warmed cheek to your cool one.

You can’t help but pout, your mood worn from weeks of being sick and without him to comfort you. It’s not like you to act this way—for years you built a stoic shell around yourself to cope with Jack being gone all the time—but Elvis managed to break that shell into pieces last summer. Since then, you’ve found yourself feeling every little thing and unable to hide it from him. Perhaps it is because he is so finely tuned into you that he just knows when something is off, but you can’t seem to hide things from him even when you’ve tried.

“Mhm,” Elvis tuts in your ear, “you’re still sore that I sent you home, ain’tcha? I’m not gonna be sorry about that, honey. You were too sick and the doc was right—that Vegas air was doin’ you no good.” He shakes his head.

You huff stubbornly and bury your head into his long neck. Of course, logically, you know they were right to send you back, but you are still upset and not just about that. You can’t seem to voice exactly what you are mad about, only realizing that you are annoyed and sad and small and needy in a way you’ve never been before. And this overwhelm seems to steal your ability to express any of those emotions in words. You’re not sure what exactly you need, other than being as close as possible to the man you love.

“Oh, don’t you be obstinate, now,” Elvis warns quietly, the slightest edge of temper in his voice. Your only response is to cling to him harder, to nuzzle yourself further into the warmth that emanates off him.

He says nothing for a moment, staring into the fire, but you can sense the gears turning behind those pretty, worn eyes. Finally, he seems to come to some conclusion because his countenance shifts and he forces your chin out of his neck with his finger so he can look you in the eyes.

“Is all this because you need Daddy to take care of you?” he asks quietly, firmly. His voice is low and rumbles right down to your toes, the words setting every one of your nerves on fire along the way.

A whimper escapes your lips. You are suddenly grateful for the inky darkness of the winter’s night, at the heat of the fire, because they conceal the blush that suddenly blotches your cheeks as Elvis stares deeply into your eyes. The gaze has you squirming to get off his lap and you want to pull him into the house where you need him, but his large hands clamp down firm.

“Be still,” he commands sternly, but only loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart is galloping at the implication of those two little words.

“Now are ya gonna be a good, quiet little girl for me?” Elvis asks, his hand gripping your chin so you have to look at him. His face is the picture of controlled calm—it’s only the flames dancing in his darkening eyes that gives him away.

You hadn’t realized just how badly you needed him to take control until this very moment.

You manage to nod solemnly as all the blood in your body seems to rush into your core. You don’t know what he has in store for you, but the fact that he is not making any attempt to leave the company of the men surrounding you makes you nervous (and maybe a little intrigued).              

Elvis releases your chin and pulls the heavy blanket up over your shoulders, encouraging you to snuggle back into him by tightening his hand around your waist. The warm wool now covers you both from head to toe, and it is only then that you start to glean why that might be important.

You rest your head on his collarbone, waiting with bated breath, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart begin to quicken under your hand as you slip it into his coat. You’re unable to help the impulse to place a fluttering kiss at the pulse point on his elegant long neck, and his lip curls up in response. Before long, he begins drawing small circles with his fingertips up the inside of your thigh, and when reaching the hem of your dress, he slips under without compunction. You stiffen as he continues, unhurried, up, up, up until he reaches your panty line.

Your eyes widen and you wonder if Elvis is really going to do this with all the guys around. It’s bold, even for him, even with the blanket tenting and concealing his movements. A snake of apprehension in your gut is overrun by the thrill of the risk. The conversation around the fire flows on without either of you, and the crackle of the flames conceals a lot, and for that you are grateful.

The light brush of his fingers over the cotton of your panties makes you jump despite yourself, and in response, Elvis grips your waist hard, stilling you.

“Be good,” he orders through clenched teeth, “or I’m gonna stop and leave you to fend for yourself. Or maybe I oughta pull this blanket off and let the guys enjoy the show.” His lip quivers up slyly at that.

The threat stills you either way.

Elvis chuckles darkly. His fingers resume their teasing, dancing over the cotton at your core delightfully as you attempt to stay as still and quiet as possible. He is maddeningly patient, doing this until you can feel the throb of your pulse blossoming between your thighs, and it has you oh-so-quietly panting into his neck. But it’s not until he feels the fabric dampen under his touch that he finally slides his naughty, slender finger underneath, grazing through your slick and up to your sensitive bud, forcing you to bite down to keep from keening loudly.

Fuck, you’ve missed him.

By now, he knows how to play you like an instrument, his instrument, knowing exactly how much pressure to use as he circles your clit again and again, enough to get you sufficiently worked up. His casualness suggests he has all the time in the world while you’re sitting in his lap beginning to shudder from the pleasure coiling low in your belly.

Occasionally, he’ll stop, just to listen to your desperate breathlessness, your carnal wanting of him quelled by trying to be a quiet, good girl like you promised. A hint of a smirk plays on his face, making you want to crush your mouth to his or slap him for his teasing. Instead, you settle for clawing at his shirt.

The wetness that gathers between your legs has your panties soaked and sticking to you now, which might be embarrassing except for the fact that you are so damn needy for him, you couldn’t care less about your ruined underwear. Elvis discovers this fact as he finally dips lower, running the length of his finger back and forth through your sopping, swollen folds, taking his sweet damn time.

You tense. You are nearly ready to come undone just from his teasing, but you know that’s not what he wants. That’s not the game he’s playing. You raise your head from his chest just long enough to give him a pleading look.

He's doing a decent job of keeping his handsome features neutral, looking to a casual observer as though he is following the conversation around the fire and not driving you to madness under the blanket. But knowing him as you do, you can see the tiny giveaways that he, too, is flustered: the way his nostrils flare with his increased breathing rate, how his brilliant blues gleam with arousal, the way his plump lips part when he finally presses his middle finger deep into you.

Your wetness devours him readily. To hide the gasp and roaring flush on your cheeks, you pull the blanket up even farther. You clutch at his chest and your nails scrape his skin. After a few agonizing minutes, there’s no helping the instinct to grind your hips against his hand, wanting him deeper, wanting to consume him.

But while he smirks and is pleased with your desperation, he also will not relinquish control. He stills completely, one hand gripping your waist hard as a reminder of who is in charge. Your warm, wet heat clenches around his finger.

“Be good and stop squirmin’, little one,” he whispers low in your ear, “and maybe Daddy will keep finger fuckin’ you ‘till ya come.”

You stop moving but whine in response to those dirty words coming from his perfect pouty mouth—you just can’t help it—but it’s so quiet he can barely hear you. Your reward is another finger sliding deep into your heat. He picks up the pace in an unforgiving way. Gasping, you bite your lip when he curves those fingers just so, hitting that spot deep inside that is only his.

The blanket barely moves, and you have no idea what magic he is using to keep things so incognito, especially considering he naturally has so much energy that his limbs are usually vibrating uncontrollably. You still feel completely on display, though, especially when the pad of his thumb begins massaging your bud in time with his expert fingers pumping in and out of you.

I’m going to come undone, right here, in front of all the guys, you think in horror. You have no clue how you are going to keep quiet and still and good if that happens. Panic begins to build behind your arousal because you just know that coil is going to burst and you’ll cry out in ecstasy any second now (but a dark part of you is even more aroused by the scandalous nature of it all).

Elvis must sense the change in you because he edges you right up to the point of no return but not over. He halts his ministrations. You clutch desperately at his expensive shirt, certain you are going to shred it to pieces by the time this little game of his is through. Your heart pounds hard and fast against your ribcage, in time with his, and you wait to see what he has in store for you next. Because even though a part of you is embarrassed by this game, you are drinking in every drop of attention, relishing his command over you, needy for every morsel he deems to give you.

He’s considering his next move, you think, by the way his eyes narrow slightly and his grip on you shifts. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you almost moan for the loss of them, but catch yourself at the last second. Brazenly, he wipes his sticky fingers down your inner thigh, his eyes dancing with amusement as he does so.

You gape at him. He can’t be finished, you think dismally. He can’t leave me like this.

No, you don’t think so, not with the way you can feel his hardened length pressing into your hamstring.

He kisses your temple sweetly. “Now listen carefully, little girl: Imma need you to shift onto one of Daddy’s legs for a second. Nice and slow now, don’t call attention to it. And hold those ruined panties of yours to the side. I wanna feel that pretty little kitty weepin’ for me,” he rumbles in your ear.

Oh my goddd... The urge to moan long and loud fills you but you just nod instead.

You follow his directions and move your weight so one of his lean, muscled thighs is between yours. The rough fabric of his pants scrapes your bare pussy as he bounces his leg a few times, sending a cascaded of shivers into your belly. His pants will need to be dry cleaned for the soaking spot you’re leaving there, and part of you feels a sense of pride to be marking him in such a way. Mine.

Holding the blanket up to your shoulders dutifully, you stare at the golden flames licking into the air in front of you. No one seems to notice or care that you have shifted.

That’s when you feel it. The slow, deliberate way he undoes his belt, the ticking of his zipper. You blush furiously, then feel the spring of his heavy cock being released. Before you can react, he unceremoniously and quickly lifts you fully onto his lap, lining you up then impaling you down upon his length.

You cover your surprise and choke with a cough—not unusual considering you’re still recovering from bronchitis. Thank god you are as wet as you are because, even so, it’s a damn tight fit with him having been away these past few weeks. You have to keep yourself from rolling your eyes into the back of your head because he’s finally filling you the way you need him to.

Yes, this is what you wanted. This is what you needed. You just didn’t expect it to be in front of all his (albeit unaware) friends.

By the way Elvis grips your waist and from the soft grunt that escapes him, you know he’s struggling to contain his own reaction to your heat, despite the air of control he’s been exuding. He adjusts you how he wants you: leaning your back over his chest, your legs draped over his, his chin resting on your shoulder. With the way the seat of the chair tips down to the ground and with blanket pulled all the way up, nothing looks amiss.

You close your eyes and sigh, relishing the feel of him stretching you, his cock buried deliciously deep inside you. He envelops you in his arms, one under your breasts, the other at your lower belly. His warmth burns into your back, but he does not let you move. Those wiry but strong arms have effectively pinned you to him. Almost frantic, you try for some semblance of friction, anything at all to ease the tension, but he just chuckles at your near-silent gasps, holding you fast against him.

Finally, once you relent and relax, Elvis swivels his hips, again and again, in a slow rhythm not unlike one monumentally famous performance on TV in the beginning of his career, the one that sent the church ladies off their rockers and the teenage girls fainting. Suddenly, you want to giggle at the fact that his damn hips resulted in both his skyrocketing career and in his censorship because those same hips have certainly become even more skilled in the many years between then and now, but for different, more scandalous reasons. Maybe those church ladies had a point, after all, you laugh quietly. And it causes you to clench around his cock.

Then you hear a low growl in your ear: “What a dirty little girl you are, letting Daddy take you like this in front of all these men. Bein’ so good for me. You like this, baby girl?” Each statement is accentuated with a shallow but pointed roll of his pelvis.

You bite your lip, nodding. His dirty talk has molten heat flooding down your limbs and directly into your cunt. With the warmth of the roaring fire coupled with the passioned heat at your back, your arousal grows with each small movement, each scandalous word, and has you feeling like you might combust before this is all said and done.

So desperately do you want to ride him within an inch of his life, but he won’t allow it. No, this is his show, and you give into him, fully resting back onto his chest. He rewards you by finding your clit again, massaging it in slow time with his barely moving cock. The result is both torturous and delectable, working you into such a state that you dig your nails so hard into his clothed thighs that he hisses.  

“Fuck, little one, you feel so good,” Elvis breathes jaggedly into your ear. He presses a hand to your lower belly, then rolls his hips up. In this position, he’s big enough that you both can feel him there. “Takin’ my cock so well.”

You do your level best not to mewl, to stay quiet for him. Instead, your breathing pants through your nostrils and you try to keep your wits about you, trying to stay good as he fucks you so slowly within an inch of your life. Fucks you with all the guys around, who seem none the wiser.

He must feel you begin to flutter around him, your climax drawing ever closer. You feel like you’re about to burst because you need to scream, to moan out his name, do something that will let you release this pressure, but you tamp it all down as far as you can.

“Daddy’s gonna make you come now, sweetheart,” he purrs.

“N-not h-here,” you breathe out, panicked, knowing you can’t hold on much longer.

“Yes, here,” he chastises. “Right in front of ev’rybody. You’re gonna come so hard, baby, cuz Daddy treats you right, doesn’t he?”

You almost sob at that and nod, that coil poised to explode at any moment.

“But you’re gonna be good and so, so quiet cuz it’s just for me baby. You ain’t gonna cry out or move a muscle, okay?” he whispers and though he’s commanding, you know he’s close to losing control himself by how labored his breath is and how tightly he’s holding you.

You nod, and he flicks your clit with expert, rapid precision. “Now, lil’ one. Come now.”

That’s all you need. Quite suddenly, you are consumed by fire as hot as the one blazing in front of you. Your body tenses, then shudders violently in his lap and he holds you to him as you careen over the edge, lost to the dark night. It takes every ounce of self-control in you to not cry out, resulting instead in your huffed breaths. Long nails bite into his arms, clamoring for some outlet for your pleasure. Your eyes close, stars dancing behind them. Your walls clench and flutter around his length and you feel his slow rhythm begin to stutter.                                                        

“Fuck, baby, Jesus fuck, so good for m-me. Daddy’s gonna fill y-you up now. All mine. Aw, h-hell.” He pulses inside you, covering his own orgasm by biting deep into your shoulder, so hard you can feel it through the heavy winter coat you’re wearing. His thick, hot arousal throbs and coats your insides and you ride him through it with the tiniest rocking of your hips, feeling lighter than air but also grounded by him.

That’s what life with Elvis is like, you think. He grounds you to him, to his orbit, and sends you both shooting to the moon and the stars.  

Completely blissed out and spent, you fall into him, and he slumps back in the chair. As you come back down to Earth, you feel your breathing sync with his. You close your eyes and revel in the wonderful way he’s made you feel, this man you are so wildly in love with.

You’re no longer upset.

You’re just glad to be back in his arms.

Elvis nudges you and you realize you may have dosed off, as he is now soft inside you and the fire has dimmed some.

“I think you made quite the mess, lil’ mama,” he whispers, nipping at your ear.

Indeed. You can feel the cool pooling of your collective arousal coating you and his lap.

“I made the mess, huh?” you whisper back with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, most definitely.” You can feel his boyish grin as he kisses your neck.

“Sure. And how exactly are we supposed to get back in the house without everyone knowing we had sex in front of them?”

He pauses and then you can feel the vibration of his chest as he starts to chuckle, that way he gets just before he has a laughing fit.

“Oh, don’t you dare start, E,” you warn. It’s contagious, of course, and you feel your own laughter bubbling. “You didn’t think this all the way through, did you, love?” you shake your head.

“That’s what I have you for!” he laughs.

“Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to sit here and simmer in our juices until everyone decides to go to bed, now won’t we?” you try to whisper sternly, but giggles escape at the complete ridiculousness of the situation.

“Not in our juices!” he cries with laughter. He’s completely beside himself, pressing his forehead into your back in an effort to hide his amusement.

“What was that, EP? Thought you both fell asleep over there,” Lamar says.

“N-nothing!” Elvis hiccups. “Just go about your business! Y’all must be getting’ tired, right? Time to go inside! Time for bed!” He flails his arms in the general direction of the house.

You are both trying, quite unsuccessfully, to hold back your laughter, and the guys are looking at you two like you’ve grown horns.

“Um, sure, EP? I guess it is getting late,” Charlie throws out.

Quizzical, the guys grumble a bit and begin to mosey their way towards the house.

“You comin’?” Lamar shouts.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it! We’ll get there!” Elvis calls, shooing him away, then dissolves into another peal of breathless laughter.  

“Okay, Crazy,” Lamar mumbles.

Elvis is sniffling and snorting by now. Your face is red and tears poke at the corners because the more he laughs, the more you laugh.

“I love you, Satnin,” he says, kissing your cheek gently once everyone is gone and your giggles have subsided.

“I love you, too, baby boy.” You press your forehead to his. “Now please tell me you have a handkerchief or something cuz otherwise you’re gonna need to wear this blanket around your waist to get inside.

“Anything for you, baby, anything for you,” Elvis says, holding back another peal of laughter.

And you know it’s true.

*

Reblogs, likes, comments, tips + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood 

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva 

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992

@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @elvisgf @misspresley

[deryuj]

Follow the curves

You wish you could focus on your case but truth be told, Connor is far too distracting.

(Or Connor is helping you with your case while you sketch him in your notebook instead)

Rating: General audience

Ship: Connor x gn!reader

I started my summer job and realized I have a lot of free time so I actually wrote a fanfic because I was bored. Enjoy!

p.s. Last time i wrote a fanfic was in 2017 and english isn't my first language, lol.

It's been three hours since you stepped your foot into the squeaky clean department. Also, it's been two hours and fifty-five minutes (minus ten minutes you spent making yourself a coffee and five minutes you took for a bathroom break, which was an excuse to just get up from your workspace and do something different) since you made yourself comfortable by your desk and started working again with the weird writings and drawings you found last night at the apartment, left by what you suspected was a deviant. Looking at the same set of lines for hours turned them into uncomprehensive scribbles and doodles at this point so you couldn't make anything out of them anyway. You needed to do something else rather than stare absent-mindedly at the same page for the next five hours until your shift is done.

You wish you could say you were going in circles with this investigation but honestly, there was no circle you could even walk in in the first place.

How frustrating.

With a soft sigh, you turned your gaze to your right where Connor sat way before you even arrived, his blue LED shining and flickering as his brown eyes stayed glued to the screen. It was funny that for an android he insisted to use computers to scroll through information like the rest of the DPD did. He didn't have to, it was probably more time-consuming and less efficient to do so, but somehow it was so endearing that he makes sure to act as human as possible and blend with the rest of his coworkers.

You haven't really spoken to him today though, he was assigned to you strictly because of the notes you discovered, it was the longest you have been in his presence, which is a bummer. Usually, you would see him casually follow Hank like a puppy, hand folded behind him, long legs easily matching his anger, quick steps, and a soft smile that was always plastered on his face. You weren't sure if he was designed to always smile or chose to do so, but you decided to believe that he wants it that way. Now though you could see that soft smile and adorable chocolate cowlick up close with him working mere centimeters away from you and you couldn't help but smile yourself.

Cyberlife sure did a great job designing him.

Connor was the newest addition to the team, assigned to help the lieutenant in his cases, which definitely did not make him happy since he oh so loved his broody and lone wolf reputation. You were pleased though, you never had a chance to work with an android (and you kinda never exactly did until now). You liked Connor, maybe more than you'd like to admit, and you found yourself doubting the whole 'friendship' if you could even call it that. Yes, he was an android and he definitely wasn't programmed to like everyone (based on his previous interactions with Gavin) but somehow you found yourself hoping that after all the small conversations you shared he, at least, considered you a friend because he liked you, not because his program told him so. Were you even making sense at this point?

You let out a soft sigh, reaching out to grab a half-empty cup of stale coffee before your eyes glided back to working Connor. He hasn't moved from his stiff position since morning, his warm eyes fixated on the computer screen, subtle nose twitches, jaw tightened, smooth hand gripping the notes you wrote down yesterday as he silently analyzed the same set of information written in your handwriting over and over again before looking up at the computer screen, trying to find some kind of clue on what exactly the deviant was trying to write down or show.

As if it was that easy to understand the maniacal scribbles they left behind before running away.

He looked so focused, so eager to prove himself and his skills to everyone that he completely shut himself off from the whole department and new information from his surroundings for now so nothing will take him out of the process of decoding the messages. You were almost curious if by any chance he knows you're watching him so shamelessly or if he even realized that you joined him by your desk to help almost three hours ago.

He was cute, really cute, and in some way you felt a little weird with choosing this word to describe a grown man, or more specifically someone designed to hunt down deviants and do it without any hesitation.

You'd rather keep your observations to yourself rather than get embarrassed though that's what you told yourself with your inner voice.

You comfortably leaned against your palm, letting your gaze dance across all the soft and sharp edges of his profile. His small, pretty nose, freckled artificial skin, pursed, plush lips, and extremely long lashes. Someone put all these details down into this single design just to make fun of you and your silly little crush on an android, that you were almost sure has no algorithm that could by any chance make him like you back. It was stupid, really, but God was he too pretty to not like.

Never mind your earlier praises, you hated Cyberlife for this design.

You felt your cheeks heat up just from thinking about this, definitely not your smartest thought of the day.

You tilted your head to the side, your hair moving with your move as you glanced at him from a slightly different angle. Still pretty. Dang.

One line, second line, join these two with another line.

Without thinking much your hand danced across your handy notebook, your pen leaving gentle lines and curves as you tried to memorize his pretty features. You weren't an amazing artist but you could at least make it resemble him. That's all you needed to do. You needed to convey his pretty profile somewhere where it won't disappear, somewhere you'll be able to look at whenever you'd feel like it, and not when Hank would get up from his desk to go to your communal kitchen with his partner in hand.

You poked the thin paper with the tip of your pen, spreading small, inked dots across his sketched cheek, dragged curled lines from his eye down to his cheek to mimic his long curtain of eyelashes, and made sure that the curve of his lips was the curviest, kissable line you ever drew on paper.

Your silly attempts caused you to let out a quiet snort. I mean the sketch wasn't bad… it's just that you finally caught up with what you were doing that caused you to realize that you were acting like a lovestruck teen if not worse than that.

Stupid- said your more sober side.

You still proudly looked down at the small sketch of Connor that popped up in the corner of your notebook, it was no longer accurate though since the model decided to finally rise his honey-filled eyes away from the screen and face you instead, clearly curious about what made you laugh during a long, boring investigation.

"What's wrong detective?" Your eyes snapped back up at his seeking expression, right in the middle of him tilting his head to the side as he would usually do whenever asking a question and being actually curious about it.

Now what?

"Ah" passed your lips before you could catch yourself. What exactly are you going to tell him and make it sound not weird?

"You draw a lot?" He took your silence as an answer and leaned in to trail his eyes along all the sketched lines, his lips curling into a soft smile to your dismay, a soft whir erupting from his chest.

You silently flipped your notebook to the next page, lips pursed as you turned your face away from him to hopefully regain your ability to say something smart rather than babble while looking at his handsome face. And yet he still watched you, or more like observed you, analyzing your mouth twitch, gaze shift, and muscle tense. Clearly, he was getting what we would call 'nervous' at his seemingly failed attempt at making a small talk and you couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Sometimes, helps me think or get myself to reboot" He could somehow understand the concept, maybe because you used a techy word he had some experience with.

He hummed in response, shifting comfortably in his seat, almost like he could feel his muscles sore from staying in one position, and looked down at the blank page, as if the drawing was still there and he was still taking in every single stroke of your pen.

"You are quite talented" He seemed honest, maybe there was a hint of something else, and you couldn't help but chuckle. There was something so innocent behind his words, he almost sounded excited to face a new quirk humans had.

He always liked those. The quirks. Things that made people unique and so interesting.

"I guess once I retire I'll move out somewhere quiet and spend the rest of my life painting landscapes" You mumbled sarcastically, your eyes rolling as you tried to get Connor off his path to compliment you more. He would always be painfully nice to get people to like him and accept him in the department. It worked, sure but you don't need him to get you flustered at work where people can see. Especially where that asshole Gavin can see and use it to make you annoyed.

He let out another soft, vibrating hum at your small joke, leaning down to comfortably lean against his smooth hand. He was thinking, processing and rinsing your words to find a suitable answer to your lighthearted response and hopefully match your tone.

"That sounds nice, I'm glad that for now, I can enjoy your work here at the department." He replied and you let your lips form a smile at his response. I mean you could interpret it as if he wanted to work with you more. You wouldn't complain, your work quality would suffer though. Or maybe you're looking too hard into it.

"Have you tried drawing Hank before?" You let out a sharp exhale from your mouth, your laugh stuck somewhere in your throat, safe from being let out to the world. You weren't sure if it was a joke or not, if it was it was funny, if it wasn't then it was cute but still, you don't want him to feel bad for laughing at him.

Connor didn't mind, in return, his plushy lips quirked up into a bigger smile, doe eyes narrowing as the smile finally reached them while he happily watched you light up after working with papers.

"Don't know, I guess I'll ask him if he wants to model, sounds like a cute date" You wanted to continue the banter, it was somehow of an anomaly to see Connor try to joke like this, hopefully, you weren't expecting too much of him. On the other hand, hopefully, Hank didn't hear that because even though you two are friends he'll scold you for joking around at his expense and giving 'the android weird ideas'.

In return he let out a quick, soft chuckle before clearing his throat to get back to his professional self, his pale cheeks dusted with a soft, blueish color. Seems like he doesn't want to make you feel bad for laughing at you as well.

"Sounds like a lovely evening" He admitted before falling silent once again, his brown, gooey eyes now staring deep into yours, analyzing you. In moments like this, you were always envious of how he can pretty much see through you and see what you think while you're left with his pretty face and zero ideas on what might be going on through his head.

"Let's… check the notes again and work through it together" You finally suggested, trying to put the awkward conversation (on your part) behind the door and focus back again on your actual job. You let Connor shift closer to you, his shoulder bumping against yours as you flipped pages back onto the one with your infamous little drawing.

Seeing the real deal up this close made you realize how much longer his lashes actually are, how his lips are far more softer than what you left on the paper and how many freckles you haven't even put down on your drawing.

You should probably try again, maybe at home.

Maybe with him in your apartment.

[sugar-omi]

I would say how fast the forgiveness went is my biggest critique with Baxter's DLC, but considering it is already the longest and the time crunch, I can also kind of see why it is that way. How would you have lengthened the angst before the forgiveness finally came?

yeah same!! i totally get why its the way it is and i dont think its bad at all, but i do think there's more avoidance and then sudden hashing out n forgiveness. also i think the difference is MC has 5 years to get over baxter, while we have 5 minutes more or less to make the decision so i think thats what makes forgiveness, sudden.

but to answer your question!!!

honestly i think i'd just make it longer n add some more options for those who hold grudges like me lol or just wanna snap on baxter bc i feel like mc never had a chance to really tell baxter how much it hurt. and for the most part baxter kept brushing it off whenever MC tried having a conversation.

although it does make sense cause of the wedding, and thus i'd have it play out more near the end/after the wedding bc i think that took a lot away from the problem, although it did help bring mc + baxter together which i think is a cute trope n i enjoyed it BUT ANYWAY

i think i would totally revamp the scene where mc confronts baxter and in the end it comes to nothing and he's like "im sorry, i can't give you what you want." or "its me, not you" basically

instead i would have a scene, probably before the wedding/baking the cake where MC snaps at baxter.

yelling at him, or at least ranting about how hurt they were. and maybe it ends in tears on your end

or talking about how they felt, and they start crying and ranting about how they felt, how they felt abandoned, etc.

overall i think it definitely ends with baxter hugging you (if you want it) or at least him holding your hands and he's on his knees in front of you, telling you how sorry he is and reassuring you that he wouldn't do it again

because thats one thing i think is iffy about the dlc, realistically you'd be afraid of baxter leaving again but instead its more you reassuring him that you won't leave him and that you want him. but i really wanted that reassurance instead, especially after a conversation on how he left

i would definitely have a option where MC ignores or acts more coldly with baxter, like a silent anger, and would try to not to be around baxter.

and baxter wouldn't talk too much about their moments together- at least if MC is around, but when he did the MC would get upset about it and maybe even walk off or just roll their eyes and go "that was in the past. forget about it"

just MC would be very distant and baxter would chase the MC instead, beg them to talk to him

and maybe baxter catches MC after a session with jude & scott, and he runs up to them, catching them by the wrist/hand

and MC: snatches their hand away, tenses up but doesnt pull away, doesnt pull away from shock/they dont really want to pull away...

and baxter starts going on about why he did it, he doesn't excuse it, he's just trying to explain but hes in front of you as if he didn't tear you apart half a decade ago and you snap at him.

you yell/raise your voice about how he left, how he shut you down when you asked to keep contacting, and now he's here and wants to act like it never happened but you cant do that.

you snap, ranting but keeping your voice even as you tell him how he left and how you had to pick yourself back up. about how he left so cruelly and now he wants to act like it's okay but its not.

you cry, telling him how you can't act like things are okay because you spent a long time trying to get over him. and maybe it worked, maybe it didn't, but either way it hurts.

at the end, you tell him you still love him but you can't go through this twice, that you can't trust him to not hurt you like that. that you love him but you need more than what he's doing.

and he apologizes, asks for a chance to make it up to you. to help you trust him again to which you agree.

basically i just would have a deeper confrontation and less avoidance, less wedding, and a more irritable/distant MC

[myenterpriseisparked]

22 answers for a fanfic 2022

Thanks to @curator-on-ao3 for providing this template and @emilie786 for encouraging me to fill it out!

1. fandoms you wrote for this year 

Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek: Prodigy, Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, and Star Trek: Voyager

2. favorite fic you wrote this year 

And Still, The Sea is Salt - I’m really proud of this one. I spent a lot of time refining it and I’m really pleased with how it turned out. Also I’m obsessed with the poem I took the titles from and how well the poem aligned with the story I wanted to tell!

3. favorite fic you read this year 

I honestly can’t pick a favorite! I read so many and the vast majority were absolutely incredible!!!

4. favorite opening line/scene you wrote this year 

My most recent fic, Parent-Teacher Association, has probably one of my favorite opening scenes I’ve ever written: 

Trip Tucker considered himself a blessed man; he had a wonderful wife that he shared a deep love with, a comfortable house in a nice neighborhood, and two incredible children he would do just about anything for.

He’d suffered a lot of hardship to get here. He’d seen loss, he’d seen death, he’d seen evil.

All of this was to say that, right then and there, Trip Tucker was pretty sure he was looking evil right in its big, ugly eyes once more.

“Dear, you’re staring.” T’Pol’s even, soothing voice broke him out of his trance, though he didn’t take his eyes off of Evil Incarnate herself: Mrs. Olivia Shelley.

She was head of the PTA, head of the fundraising committee for the soccer team, and the mother of Jameson Shelley, who had pushed and teased his eldest child, Elizabeth, a little too much for Trip’s liking.

Is it an earth shattering opening? Nah. Did I giggle a lot while writing it because PTA Dad Trip Tucker amuses me? Absolutely.

5. favorite ending line/scene you wrote this year 

And Still, The Sea is Salt ended with a scene/line that I fermented in my head for a really long time and really liked:

Before grief can really take over La’An’s mind, however, Andy’s dark ponytail bobs enthusiastically through the kitchen as she starts explaining the ins and outs of her new assignment and the animals she hopes to encounter. La’An smiles and takes a seat as she watches Andy pull a dish of strawberries, big enough to share, from the fridge, as well as the ingredients needed to grill habanero burgers.

Something in La’An’s soul warms, watching Andy’s deft movements and twinkling, blue eyes.

And she thinks to herself that, maybe, people are never really gone.

6. a trope you wrote this year 

Uh, babies. I write a lot of babyfic. I also really like Established Relationship, Family Fluff, and Found Family.

7. pairings you wrote this year 

Janeway/Chakotay, Pike/Una, and Trip/T’Pol

8. a fic regret from this year 

I have some fics I started with concepts I’m obsessed with that I ultimately abandoned because it wasn’t turning out the way I wanted. I hope to revisit some of them one day, but for now they haunt me from my wips folder.

9. a song that helped you write 

I had a few songs that gave me bits of inspiration throughout the year, but, honestly, the poem “Stars, I have seen them fall” by A.E. Houseman was my biggest inspiration this year. Which is really unusual because I’m not typically super into poetry.

10. total number of fics you posted 

11!

11. total number of words you posted 

36,620

12. most popular fic written this year 

By hits, it was Loopholes. By kudos, it was I’ll Always Be Around, Wherever Life Takes You.

13. least popular fic written this year 

By hits and kudos: Parent-Teacher Association. Which makes sense because I published it less than a week ago lol.

14. longest completed fic you posted this year 

And Still, The Sea is Salt has 9,455 words. It’s my third longest fic of all time!

15. shortest completed fic you posted this year 

The Plan has 323 words. My shortest fic of all time!

16. favorite character to write about this year 

It’s a tie between Una Chin-Riley, Chris Pike, and Trip Tucker. I had so much fun writing these characters and exploring their voices and movements in fiction.

17. a fic you didn’t expect to write 

Honestly, my Prodigy fic, Echoes off of Cave Walls, wasn’t something I thought I was going to write! I wasn’t planning to write any fic for that show but inspiration struck!

18. most memorable comment/review 

I honestly can’t pick one that is the most memorable because I hoard comments on my fics away to read for later when I need a seretonin boost like Gollum with the ring of power. That said, reactions to Chapter 3 of And Still, The Sea is Salt were hilarious and I reread those a lot because they make me laugh.

19. trends you noticed in your writing this year 

I think I tried a lot of new things this year with my writing. I tried co-writing for the first time (shout out to @emilie786 for writing 3 fics with me in 4 days this July. That was so fun!). I got back into writing longer fics a bit. I broke out of my serial fluff writing to do some angst. I tried writing in a different tense and really enjoyed it. I feel like I let myself write more humor and kind of established a comedic beat I really enjoy. It was a fun year for trying new things. 

That said, I also wrote a lot of baby fic because that’s what I do and I like it 😉.

20. fics you wanted to write but didn’t 

Oh boy, the list is long, and there are some I don’t wanna talk about quite yet because I’m not quittin’ on em yet but here are some that I attempted and never finished:

- Star Trek Voyager fic taking place after Endgame where Voyager gets a refit and utilizes the holographic emitters placed around the ship to reveal that Voyager is, and has always been, sentient. The plan was for Voyager to spend a lot of time talking with Kathryn to help ease a lot of the guilt Kathryn feels about her actions in the DQ. 

- Chris and Una go on a horseback riding date complete with swing dancing, bonfires, and kissing. (It was intended as a sequel to Ex Equis, Scientia, but I tried really hard to write it and it never felt quite right to me. Might try it again later idk.)

- I had some vague ideas about more stories in the Aftermath AU, but I never got around to writing them because I got Pikeuna brainrot over the summer and Brain didn’t wanna write J/C lol.

21. something you want to write next year 

I don’t have a lot of solid plans because I am at the whim of my current hyperfixations BUT I think I’ll probably write more Pikeuna after SNW season 2 begins and I hope to add on to the Trip/T’Pol AU I started in the PTA fic. @emilie786 and I have also been throwing around some ideas I’m excited about so we might cook something up as well 😉. 

22. an idea from one of your fics that you want people to think about!

In my story, And Still, The Sea is Salt, I really thought a lot about what legacy really can look like; sometimes our legacy isn’t an empire, or a scholarship program, or a scientific discovery - sometimes simply being ourselves is enough to impact people around us in little ways that allows us to live on after we are gone. Every day we interact with so many people, and each of those interactions has the potential to leave an impact, whether we’ve known that person for 2 seconds or 2 decades. I think there’s something beautiful about being able to have a legacy built on strawberries and hot sauce and kindness. 

[dragongutsixofficial]

On the topic of Rhea, Byleth, Crimson Flower and abuse

I see a lot of people saying Crimson Flower is a bad route for Byleth, and I'm always a little confused about it, so I thought I'd share my thoughts on the matter. This post isn't at all to invalidate their opinions or how they view the game- this is just offering my perspective on things. Please forgive any possible mistakes, as English isn't my first language. Also, I will be criticizing Rhea's treatment of Byleth, so I'll tag this appropriately of course, but I'm still warning any of her fans beforehand in case you just wanna skip. ^^

For a little bit of context, when i first played the game, Rhea creeped me out THE MOMENT she looked at Byleth from the balcony in the cutscene when they arrive at Garreg Mach monastery. So, I was already wary of her-I dunno, I just had a feeling she wasn't as honest as she was pretending to be.

And I mean, this isn't completely wrong. She desperately wants to be able to relax and be truthful, sure, but she also has a great deal of responsibility in putting in place and maintaining a really unfair theocracy based entirely on lies, because she wants to protect her family, the last of her kind. While her behavior is, of course, understandable given the horrible trauma she went through, it still doesn't sit right with me, but that's not really my point here. The thing is, she has problems with not being in control at all times because of her story. Her despair even pushes her to try and bring back her dead mother by crafting her a vessel- something she fails at several times, including Sitri.

And, then, there's Byleth. Byleth, who disappears for twenty long years, along with all her hopes, and when they reappear Rhea immediately sees the possibility for her to achieve her goal is not totally lost. She was desperate and now that she's found them, she wants to keep them.

That's why she places so much trust in Byleth from the start, but also why she grows cold every time they step out of line- like when they refuse to give her Miklan's spear. She allows them to live their life, but only so long as they do not disappoint her in any way or deviate from her ideas- because for the longest time, she struggles to see them as their own person and puts unreasonable expectations on them.

And that, sadly, is when that becomes psychological abuse on her part. This is really obvious to me when Byleth's hair and eyes turn green after fusing with Sothis, and she sings to them and puts their head in their lap while they're asleep- it just makes me want to run far away in the opposite direction every time, and her giving them the prophet outfit after that makes me so sorry for Byleth because what she's essentially doing here (albeit maybe unvoluntarily) is chipping away at their developing self and bodily autonomy by turning them into literally what she physically wants to see-and that isn't them. She wants them to become what she wants of them.

And then, in the Sacred Mausoleum, Byleth chooses Edelgard. All hell breaks loose because Rhea's hopes are shattered- and she also realizes her affection for Byleth is (partly) unrequited which, to me at least, makes sense- I don't really see how they could care as much for her as they do for their students when they spent every day with them for a year, and their actions seem to be made more out of love for their close ones than anything else. Byleth breaks out of the mold and confronts her directly. They make the clear cut decision to deviate from the path she had laid out for them. From that moment on, Rhea considers that all forms of violence against them is allowed (which, fair, they just declared war on her lol) including taking their heart out by force, which is physical abuse obviously (then again, violence is to be expected in a war but you get the idea). She now hates what she's created and sees it as her duty to destroy it.

Now. Byleth choosing to walk down Edelgard's path does not equate cutting themselves from their divine part, and I think that is a very important point. I see a lot of people make that criticism, especially since Byleth loses Sothis' powers at the end of CF. But to me, it's a totally different phenomena that occurs.

In every route, post-timeskip Byleth embraces their divine side. They use the Creator's sword and they go back in time as they wish to protect and further their and their lords' vision for the future of Fodlan. Heck, their main class is literally "Prophet". But something strange and, I think, beautiful happens in Crimson Flower that always made me feel disappointed in the other routes' plots: Byleth has a chance to stand up to their abuser and cut ties with them explicitely and directly. To fight back against them with all they've got.

Now, don't get me wrong. Rhea apologizing for her wrongdoings and bad treatment of Byleth is good, sure, but it just… doesn't seem like enough to me. Sure, that's a nice thought… but it's not like anything can be done about it now: they're stuck with body modifications and a position as an Archbishop reforming the system she helped put in place that they never really asked for in the first place. But what makes it ok is that they embrace those fully and voluntarily, and that's beautiful on its own- however, that resolution leaves me a bit disappointed and honestly feeling like they let Rhea walk all over them.

The thing is, when you get out of an abusive and toxic relationship, you are left changed from the experience. You lose a lot of things, but you also get some things. It's like you're left with a random object your abuser gave to you once. You can either keep it and give it a new story of its own, or discard it if keeping it just doesn't feel right. But in the end, it is your responsibility, your thing, and you're not a bad person for not using it. The metaphor is broken, I know, but I hope you get my idea. You're not a bad person for moving on for that thing- You don't resent the thing, you can thank it and appreciate it for what it brought you while you used it, you don't hate it, hell you might have even learnt from it.

In the other routes, Byleth chooses to keep everything and use it equally. In Crimson Flower, Byleth "regaining their humanity" doesn't in any way, shape or form mean they reject all that Sothis brought to them or their enlightenement. It's just them choosing that they'd rather not use that from now on, or not engage with it to the same degree. They might go back to it later, might help rebuild the church, I don't know-just not in the same way. On new terms that make them more at ease with who they became following that route.

They're still the same loving and caring person who would do anything for their students. They still go to the ends of the Earth to give someone a random thing they lost. They still spend hundreds of coins on their loved ones' favorite teas. But… they do not have to forgive Rhea. They do not have to accept everything that happened to them because of her actions, even if some of it was good. They've made their peace with it and they've let it go of their own volition.

They do not become a lesser version of themselves because they chose to deal with the abuse they went through in a different way than in the other routes.

And I think a lot of people underestimate how powerful CF!Byleth's narrative can be.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Runaan, the Dragonblade

I woke from a dream this morning where I figured out half of this and came up with the rest while I mulled it over, and now I have a new angsty headcanon: Runaan was raised by Avizandum and trained to fight by Skywings at the Storm Spire.

Runaan is a soft elf who's learned to adopt Hard Mode at a moment's notice. Avizandum is a rat bastard who truly thought of humans as lesser beings. Runaan's Hard Mode and his attitude that humans are liars, nothing in them worth sparing, etc etc, is all learned behavior. It makes sense that all his harsh attitudes are part of his assassin training, since Ethari and Lujanne don't share them. And we’ve seen how certain other old dragons feel about humans. Considering that Xadia once wanted to wipe them all out, and that the dragons live by far the longest, it seems to me that the source of prejudice against humans lies with the dragons and is taught to the elves over and over with each new generation.

Then there's that casual line in the Book One novelization where we learn that Xadia wouldn't necessarily choose to avenge Avizandum because he was a morally gray bastard, but it would absolutely cry for justice over Zym being killed. That scene is Rayla's, and all her assassin information comes from Runaan. Bitter about his upbringing at Avizandum's claws, maybe? I don't blame him.

If Avizandum really did raise Runaan and see to his training, then S1E1′s title “Echoes of Thunder” just keeps having more layers to it, doesn’t it? Gosh. Runaan is connected to so many parts of the plot, to so many characters, but behind him lies Thunder. Just like Aaravos lies behind Viren and his own web of connections.

I keep trying to puzzle out Runaan's scars, where and why he got them. This headcanon has yet another guess. See, Ethari is eager to use the Sun's Tears salve to keep Runaan healing quickly--he hates to see his husband hurt, of course he does, he loves him! So I don't think it's very likely that Runaan got those scars after he married Ethari. And then there's his bio clue about "learned to put his mission above all else". If you learn something, that's a lesson, and lessons usually are learned early, especially when assassin training begins before you can even walk.

So if his training supervisor was Avizandum, and Runaan wasn't hard enough during training... I can see it. Typical dragon behavior, a little smack of the tail. It wouldn’t do much damage to another dragon, not with their thick scaled hides. But used on elves who are short and tiny and delicate in comparison? Ouch. 

None of Runaan’s scars or even damage from his fight in Harrow’s chamber, none of it is on his back. Runaan never turns his back unless he’s spinning with his blades out. So whatever hit him, he was facing it directly. And if it was Avizandum’s judgment, then he stood there and saw it coming and took it like the stoic Moonshadow he is.

This poor angst-ridden elf, god.

I'm dancing around it here. But Avizandum losing control of Zym was a good thing, and Viren interrupting his hatching storm was beneficial for Zym and therefore all of Xadia - once the Dragaang got to hatch him, anyway. Because however much Avizandum cried at dying and being unable to reach Zym, whether from love or fear or loss of control, he would've raised him to be hard and trained him to be ruthless. Just like Runaan.

Zym was spared all that. But maybe Runaan wasn't. Maybe it's tradition for the Dragon Throne to raise and train each assassin leader, and that's where the blood promise thing comes in. A Moonshadow elf, separate from their people, surrounded by dragons and Skywings, needs to bond with someone. So they make the promise, swear their honor and loyalty in service to the one being who has seen to their education and whatever guidance and comforts they are given in life. And then they go home to the Silvergrove and bind others to the will of the Dragon King.

I had a really old headcanon once that Runaan was raised by Skywings, lol. This version is cooler though. It's just the way he fights. It's so aerial! And all the spinning! Everything about Skywings being strong and fast really just adds more strength to this headcanon. Rayla believes Runaan is the best assassin, and he's described as basically unstoppable. A Moonshadow who fights like a Skywing would have serious advantages over most other combatants. Maybe this will be one more connection between Runaan and Callum someday? How fun would that be? Runaan actually being able to train Callum in Skywing aerial techniques to some degree. Whether he would... ehh. I could see him silently adjusting Callum’s elbow or something and nodding for him to try again, though. Perhaps in a “but I doubt you’ll get it--oh huh, look at that” sort of way. Which would be awesome all around, tbh.

Unfortunately, if Runaan were trained by Skywings, he would have thought himself slow and sloppy during training. It probably influenced his constant training regimen in the Silvergrove. If he trained all the time, he'd at least get closer to Skywing standards. But maybe he still lives with a deep-seated sense of inadequacy for not being as swift and light on his feet as his trainers. And I can see Avizandum allowing that mentality, and even encouraging it, since it would urge a young Runaan to constantly push himself harder.

Now, let me headcanon about Rayla: if she were the child that Runaan chose to follow him as the assassin leader, there is no way in hell he'd let her go back to the Storm Spire for instruction at Avizandum’s claws. So maybe he told Lain and Tiadrin what happened to him, or maybe they already knew. Heck, maybe they were there with him, or maybe Lain was and that’s why he’s Runaan’s best friend. In any case, no one wanted to put Rayla through that, so they all managed a compromise. Lain and Tiadrin went in her place and served on the Dragonguard. And Runaan got to keep Rayla away from Avizandum.

He was so gentle with her when he raised her, it kills me. The irony that he was still training her to be an assassin despite his own history is very deep. But I don't think anyone knows how to get out of that one yet. Still, he raised her softly and with encouraging guidance, not with tail smacking. Somehow, that sense of "I'll never be good enough" did carry over, though... Rayla really is as perceptive as her mother sometimes. She picks up things Runaan never meant to teach her. Luckily that also includes kissing techniques.

Runaan helped Rayla avoid his harsh upbringing at the Storm Spire, but he raised her so softly that she got him captured. He keeps using those Skywing moves like mental chess to try to get around the dangers in his life and protect his friends and family, but the board is set against him. And I'm guessing the only way to win is not to play.

tl;dr: Runaan was raised by dragons and trained by Skywings and it shows, but he didn't want Rayla raised the same way because it was traumatic and scarring, so her parents went to the Storm Spire instead of her. And everything still fell apart because the system is broken.

Extra hc’s: 

Runaan got over his fear of heights and death at the same time because Avizandum made him jump off the Spire repeatedly, and he’d have to be chill and calm and accept his fate, and when he was at peace with it, then a Skywing would catch him.

Runaan gave Hendyr his cheek scars for catching him too early one time. Dude was trying to help, and Runaan was trying to be perfect, and it ended with shades of Amaya.

Rayla throwing herself off the pinnacle when she killed Viren was something she may have heard about before, and once again she’s copying Runaan.

There’s a Moonshadow room at the Spire because there’s always a Moonshadow there for training, and that’s where Lain and Tiadrin were living: in Runaan’s childhood room. They’ll know him so much better after having spent time there.

Runaan’s got chronic stress about messy windswept hair now, and that’s why Ethari does his hair for him every morning with those dexterous hands of his, to make sure Runaan feels calm and ordered and as far from the Storm Spire in his mind as possible.

[ratsoh-writes]

Hey I was wondering what the MBTI personality will be for each skeleton.

If it's to much trouble you don't have to do it.

(sorry for my bad english) and love your writing.

I hope you know that I spent the time to take the test for each of the main ten lol. Probably the longest it took for me to answer a question

Sans: he got ISFP, or the adventurer! That suprised me a lot but it makes sense since sans really is a people person despite being an introvert himself. He’s good to go along with others as long it interests him. Sans is a very “live in the present” kind of guy

Papyrus: he got ESFJ! He’s the consultant or the stereotypical popular guy! No suprised there since papyrus is so empathetic. Papyrus does have a tendency to always put others first!

Star: he got ESFP or the entertainer! Makes perfect sense since he absolutely loves the spotlight! He may be clever, but Star is also impulsive at times. He always means well though

Honey: another suprise. Honey got INFJ, or the advocate! He’s soft spoken yet passionate. Advocates are also extremely compassionate and see uplifting others as thier life goal

Red: he got ISTJ or the logistician! He is a pretty popular personality type, and is a no nonsense kind of guy. Red doesn’t look too deep you into life’s big questions and prefers just focusing on the here and now. He also takes a lot of pride in his work. If it’s something red is passionate about, he’ll put his all into it

Edge: he got ESTJ, the executive! Edge is a natural born leader and considers people very valuable which makes sense since his job is a defense lawyer specializing in keeping families together! Edge is all about keeping his word and giving only the best of quality for his work!

Mal: lol he also got ESTJ! The biggest difference between mal and edge is that edge is much more factual while mal is more emotional. Mal is still a natural born leader, but he tends to focus more on the emotional aspect and how others react while edge prefers just sticking to the straight facts

Cash: he got ESTP or the entrepreneur! Cash loves being the center of attention! He’s also the kind of guy to jump into new ideas and activities before deciding whether or not he actually likes them. Life is no fun without risks!

Now I thought about giving oak and willow the same answers as sans and papyrus, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there’s no way those two could share the same personalities anymore. They won’t ever go back to the originals simply because thier experiences have permanently changed them

Oak: his new personality type is ISFJ or the defender! He’s anylitical but also sensitive. He’s reserved bit still fairly good with and values other people. Oak is much more cautious than classic sans and you can see that in the way he reacts with others. It takes him a long time to open up, but once he does, his loyalty is unmatched

Willow: and finally willow got ENFJ, or the protagonist! Being in the famine has mellowed willow out, but anyone who really gets to know him will find the strang personality shining through. Willow is a leader and a caretaker at his core! The most important thing in his life is keeping those he loves safe

[otonymous]

Time After Time: Victor’s Firsts (MLQC NSFW Headcanon)

Hey everyone!  

Thanks to all who voted in my Twitter poll to see whose NSFW “Firsts” headcanons they wanted to read next. 💕Victor was the undisputed victor (haha!) over Kiro, so I hope you all enjoy my longest headcanons to date...ALL 18 MINUTES OF IT! (these totally got out of hand, for whatever reason LOL) 😵😆

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised.

Naughtiness ensues after the cut!

A Time To Learn: Your Relationship With Victor:

A battle of wills and wits that gradually blossoms into a relationship founded on mutual trust and admiration, learning and growth

Your relationship with Victor isn't easy, especially at the beginning when you are learning about each other and how to mesh with one another — it will be a hard-won love, but one that’s absolutely worth the payoff in the end

Victor is very logical, pragmatic, stubborn, domineering and - especially at the beginning — overprotective (tends to withhold information from you if he feels it would hurt or harm you in any way).  While his intentions come from a good place, it will annoy you to no end to be sheltered like this

But as the relationship progresses and Victor comes to fully understand that you are a grown woman capable of holding her own and making her own decisions, he will gradually cease this type of behaviour  

Initially, it will be hard for you to know where you stand because of Victor's reluctance to let his poker face slip and reveal his emotions.  But when you finally see him crack a smile, or hear the soft chuckle of his deep laughter followed by a muted exclamation of “dummy” or “idiot,” you’ll feel like you’ve won the lottery, becoming addicted to doing whatever you can to see the corners of those lips tug up when he thinks no one is the wiser

When you first defy him, Victor is pleasantly surprised: he's used to getting his way personally and professionally because his overwhelming presence, business acumen and instinct usually lead him in the right directions, so he has rarely ever encountered opposition.  While he is initially taken aback by your bravado, he’ll find your attitude refreshing, amusing even.  His cock will too (more on this later) 😆

This is the type of relationship where one person fills in the gaps of the other: you'll soften Victor’s hard edges, temper the manner with which he interacts with others, and make him laugh harder than he ever thought possible.  You are the figurative sunshine in his life, the warmth he has been missing for so long.

On the other hand, Victor lends you his unflappable confidence, his expertise and experience, the will to stick to your guns and really fight for the things you want.  He is your safe haven, champion and protector.

Talk is cheap for Victor, who prefers to show love and affection by way of action: brewing medicinal soups when you’re sick (with a spoonful of caramel pudding at the ready to chase away the bitter aftertaste), tucking a cozy throw over you when you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa yet again, cooking your favourite foods when he knows you’ve had a rough day, waiting outside your office in the pouring rain to drive you home when he knows you’ve forgotten your umbrella

He also loves to high-key spoil you: whisk you away on his private jet for spontaneous weekend getaways at Lake Como or Bali, beautiful bouquets arranged on your desk Monday mornings at the office just because, an impromptu Champs-Élysées shopping excursion when you mention needing a new winter coat…THAT BLACK CARD THOOOO

Victor is a steadfast lover: reliable, responsible and always, always there when you need him.  He is your rock, a solid foundation from which you are emboldened to jump and reach for the stars…forever knowing he will be there to catch you if you fall

He often anticipates your needs, sometimes even before you realize them.  And as your relationship progresses, the ways in which he offers help will become less overbearing and more sensitive to your feelings and your right to make an informed decision

Victor is most expressive in the bedroom.  For all his emotional reservedness in his everyday life, the passionate nature he keeps buried deep inside is finally given an outlet through sensual pleasures

As with everything else in his life, lovemaking is serious business for Victor.  He is an intense lover who wants to be the very best, the one to erase even the tiniest shreds of whoever came before him.  He needs to leave his mark on you, physically and emotionally.  Even if he wasn’t your first, he’d be damned if he’s not your last.

Ever the epicurean, Victor is the pussy-eating champion.  Thoroughly devoted to exploring you orally, the man would go for hours if you’d let him, taking care not to miss a single inch of trembling flesh.  Obsessed with numbers, Victor is not satisfied to move on to something else until he’s given you multiple orgasms with his tongue alone.

The man is humming(!) in pleasure as he eats: lips, chin and cheeks shiny with your arousal and his spit.  This will be the only time you see Victor with less than impeccable table manners

Victor considers it a point of pride and responsibility to bring you to your climax well before he reaches his own

The man also loves to see you in elegant silks, satins and lace and will surprise you with the most beautiful lingerie

In all honesty though, garter belts, stockings, stilettos and nothing else are this man's jam when he really gets down to business

Needless to say, Victor’s super fit and muscular physique translates to stamina for days...

The First Kiss:

Having spent an exhausting day ironing out the minute details of your proposal with Victor, you slump onto the leather sofa in the corner of his office, meaning to take a 5 minute power nap to recharge while Victor leaves the room for a bathroom break

“The man is a machine…” you think to yourself, stealing a quick glance at your phone before the weight of heavy eyelids finally shepherds you to slumber: 9:15 pm

You are out cold.  Dead to the world.  You don't even hear the click of the door as it opens, or the soft approach of polished Oxfords when Victor quietly crouches to bring his face level with yours, gazing at your sleeping form, undisguised tenderness completely transforming that stoic visage

Victor is smiling, one large hand curling into a loose fist before it rises to cover his mouth — the side of his index smoothing over his cupid’s bow in an unconscious bid to satisfy the desire for physical contact

Jet black eyes sweep from disheveled hair to the delicate silver chain around your neck, pupils widening as they trace the line of your collarbone upon which the sapphire pendant lay

Then…slowly….as if caught in the pull of some hypnotic tide, Victor moves even closer, Adam’s apple prominent in his throat as he swallows.  Paying no heed to the heat gathering beneath an increasingly tight collar, the man continues studying your face, intent on mapping every smooth contour onto his mind for posterity

It is only when he feels the warmth of your breath on his cheek that he stops, breaking out of his trance and mentally chastising himself for almost losing control.  For losing himself in the sight of your soft lips parted in slumber

Just when he makes to stand and cover you with his suit jacket, your eyes fly open to lock onto his

Time stops.  Lost in the intensity of the gaze, neither of you dare to even breathe, let alone speak, lest the sanctity of the moment is broken

The sheer proximity of Victor Li has you captivated: cedar wood and pine wafting subtle from burning skin, long lashes softening dark eyes that blazed with hunger, lips that trembled ever so slightly with longing until you couldn’t help but become famished for just one taste…

And before you can even make sense of what you’re doing, you've propped yourself up on one elbow, bridging the gap between your lips and his — plush, soft and slightly parted

Victor’s eyes widen for a moment, a thousand different emotions silently brewing inside that busy mind until the slide of your tongue into his mouth blankets the chaos with a quiet calm.  Only then does the LFG CEO yield completely to the warmth of your lips and the fire in his soul, eyes closed as he finally allows his body to take what it wants, what it has yearned for since the day you challenged him

And when he gets to this point, Victor's kiss deepens, becoming more and more aggressive until you’re forced to pull back for a bit of air before diving in for a second round

Confession Of Love:

This man is not the type to throw the word “love” around lightly, so when he tells you he loves you, he MEANS IT.  It’s not lust.  It’s not like.  It’s a Ride or Die type of commitment.

Victor Li leaves very little to chance.  The first time he tells you he loves you, he will have planned it…WAY in advance

The man knows timing is everything (haha!) and will choose the very special occasion of your birthday to make his confession

He rearranges his work schedule (and yours) for the special day, flying you out to Paris on his private jet

At exactly 1:14 pm, he’ll present you with your gift at the very top of the Eiffel Towel: a ladies’ version of the Patek Philippe timepiece he himself wears

The back will be engraved with both your initials and the numbers 1-3-1-4.  You'll start shaking the moment you see it.

1:14 pm, 13:14, 1-3-1-4: all essentially meaning "forever" when pronounced in Chinese

Honestly, it will feel like a proposal and in a sense, it is: once Victor is absolutely certain about someone, he will never let them go.  His love is for life.

You are absolutely speechless, hands trembling so hard that Victor has to hold them steady before he slips the watch onto your wrist

Then, after taking a moment to savour the sweetness of having a shared token of love, Victor bends to place a kiss on the back of your hand, the most tender look in his eyes when he finally looks up to say, “I love you.  Happy birthday.”

Doesn’t that sound much nicer than "dummy"?! 😆

The First Night

Despite all the impossible deadlines Victor sets for you in the course of your professional collaborations, the man is incredibly patient when it comes to matters of the heart

Until Victor tells you he loves you, he will not have sex with you (much to your horny chagrin)

This is actually specific to you and not his personal code of conduct per se.  In the past, the man has had no problems bedding women he’s had, at most, lukewarm feelings for

But YOU are a totally different breed, worlds apart from the starlets and socialites that threw themselves at his feet

Victor is fascinated by your honesty: the frankness of your words, your artless behaviour.  Mesmerized by the fact that he can read you like an open book (which is why he is so keen on protecting you from those who would use that to their advantage).  Touched by the genuine kindness and consideration that guides much of what you do.  Impressed by your tireless spirit in fighting for the people and things you care about

In short, he has never met another person quite like you, especially in the cut-throat world of business and high society where he has learned to excel — a place where poker-faced people keeping their cards close to their chests are the norm and not the exception

Holding out on sex is as painful and torturous to Victor as it likely is to you; the man is incredibly attracted to you, and has been since the day you dared to challenge him to secure funding for your company.  Deep down, Victor knows you had him ensnared the moment he saw the fire burning in your eyes (not like he’d ever tell you though LOL)

And each time work brought you before him, the man couldn’t help but notice something new to admire: the way your hair fell in soft wisps — begging to be gently tucked behind the shell of your ear, the captivating flutter of lashes as tired eyes blinked back fatigue, the pleasing lilt of your voice even as you laced your words with sarcasm

It wasn’t long before Victor found his thoughts drifting to you, haunting his nights and sneaking up on him during the day…especially when he was in the shower, eyes closed and moans amplified in the wet heat as his large hand reached down to stroke the length of his cock — imagining your legs wrapped around his waist, your tongue nimble on his shaft

In spite of all this pent-up tension, Victor doesn't rush into sex because he wants things to be done right.  You are the most important person in his life and he feels the need to eliminate any possibility of things going wrong

In short, he won’t treat you like the women who came before because there’s absolutely no comparison: no one has ever made him feel the way you do

That being said, it doesn’t mean you and Victor won't get up to some extreme heavy-petting: grinding on his lap in his Bugatti, palming him through his dress pants at the office, a hand slipped beneath your skirt when you’re bent over wiping kitchen counters at Souvenir as payment for your meal  

So when Victor gives you the ultimate birthday gift of finally telling you he loves you, the two of you are hightailing it back to your penthouse suite at the grandest hotel in Paris, bodies already flush against each other and kissing as the French do in the privacy of an ascending elevator

BUT Victor is the king of deliciously unhurried love making.  It is his preferred modus operandi.  After all, the man really knows how to enjoy the finer things in life: food, wine, your body and every single reaction of bliss that can be teased out of it.

You can bet that Victor will fuck you nice and slow and thoroughly.

PREPARE TO BE PAMPERED LIKE A QUEEN

Strains of Duke Ellington & John Coltrane's “In a Sentimental Mood” are being piped through built-in speakers as Victor approaches you from behind, notes of pine and cedar accompanying the heat of his body, wafting in gentle waves to make the fine hairs of your skin stand on anticipatory end

And as you watch the sun kiss the horizon through a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows — orange rays setting the Eiffel Tower ablaze in a sea of luminous fire — fingertips are trailing up your bare arms, Victor gently gathering your hair to sweep it over one shoulder before pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, eyes closed and inhaling deep, trying to hold on to the subtle sweetness of your skin

His hands, incredibly dextrous despite their size, easily tease apart the knot of your halter dress and you tremble under the intensity of his gaze over your shoulder as they watch satin trace every curve  — your dress dropping to pool on cool marble at your feet

There is something especially exquisite about seeing the City of Light laid out before you as you’re slowly laid bare by Victor.  And just when you start to blush at standing stark naked before the fully clothed CEO, he places your hands on his chest, seductive command permeating that deep voice when he says, “Undress me.”

Sliding your palms over the broad expanse of his pecs, you palpate the rhythm of his heart, caress the lines of hard muscle beneath that perfectly starched dress shirt  

By the time your fingers are unbuttoning his collar, his Adam's apple is already bobbing in his throat, the deep breaths he’s drawing to rein in desire amplifying the rise and fall of his chest

When the last button is undone, the sight of Victor’s gloriously perfect torso erodes the last of your frayed patience and you’re practically tearing the shirt off his muscular arms, wrestling with his belt.  And although you are dying inside from your lack of finesse, Victor is secretly thrilled that you want him that badly.  Full marks 😆

Finally….finally….that beautiful body is revealed in all its glory: sculpted from innumerable laps in his olympic sized pool and so genetically blessed below the belt that your mouth is watering at the sight

BUT FIRST, a bath!  Blue balls be damned, Victor Li will enjoy this moment to its fullest.  He knows that a slow seduction can build up to the most explosive sex.  Clearly.

The man will absolutely insist on bathing you, don't even try to fight it.  He gets an acute sense of satisfaction from taking care of you in every sense of the word.  Also, there’s nothing quite like the slippery slide of his hands all over your body

Step into the marble infinity tub and lay back against his broad chest.  Soak in the warm waters as you take in the view of the city around you, the peony-scented candles, the white-petaled orchids…all meticulously planned by the man soaping you from behind, gentle hands exploring

Lose yourself in his touch: fingertips trailing after bubbles that glide over the swell of your breasts, large hands submerging to wrap around your waist until they cross at the navel, moving down to rub languid circles between your legs until you tremble — Victor’s lips finding yours when your head falls back against his shoulder in bliss

And when you reach behind to feel him - long, hot and hard  - his soft groans will drive you to the precipice of madness until you’ve got him sitting on the edge of the tub: face a mask of ecstasy to feel your lips on him, your greedy mouth never seeming to get enough of his delicious flesh

Best believe that Victor almost has a heart attack when you let him slip from your mouth when he begins to twitch, observing him with innocence in your eyes as you pump him to completion, teasing the tip of his cock with your hardened nipples while he coats your chest in his release

The man is DONE when you finally look down at your breasts as if surprised, gathering up his cum with the tip of your index and bringing it to your lips for a taste, coy smile blooming all the while on your face

Jaw tightens.  Cock hardens.  And suddenly the world around you slows to a stand-still as you’re lifted so quickly you barely have time to think before his hands are coaxing your legs around his trim waist, your body wet and slippery against Victor’s as he carries you to the bedroom

Laying you upon the king-sized bed, Victor’s lips seek the heat between your thighs — lapping fast, tasting slow, drawing out slick pleasure to coat his tongue and wrench his name from somewhere deep in your throat

Nothing gets Victor Li hotter, faster, than the sound of your voice, desperate and needy for him.  The man is addicted to it.  You can bet he won’t be emerging from between your legs until his cheeks and chin are so shiny it’s obscene, and you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve convulsed against his fingers and tongue, orgasms bleeding one into the other like sweetly turbulent waves

And when he finally rises — your flavour faint on his tongue as his lips find yours — he’ll swallow your moans as he finally pushes into you: gradual, gentle, savouring every searing twitch of muscle adjusting to the welcome intrusion of his long, thick heat

Hips moving fast, swaying slow…pelvis grinding in circles to hit your clit because he can’t get enough of the way you shudder against him, or the sting of your teeth sinking into the flesh of his shoulders (mark him up, Victor LOVES it)

EDGING: Victor will hit that spot with expert precision over and over again till you’re on the verge of exploding…only to pull away, rhythm slowing to a grind to leave you hyperventilating and dizzy with need as this torturous pattern repeats

When he finally lets you (and himself) come, you are a sweaty, screaming mess, nails scratching to leave crimson welts on Victor’s back that will make the man smile to see in the mirror the following morning

Victor likes to remain buried deep within you for a bit after his release, holding you in his arms as he peppers you with kisses: on your lips, cheeks, forehead and eyelids

Afterwards, you can bet that the CEO will have a full spread delivered to the suite, where the two of you will spend the rest of the evening feeding each other in bed in between rounds of passionate lovemaking.  Remember?  Victor has stamina for DAAAAAYYYYYSSS and has to make up for lost time 😂

⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱

Thanks so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - Katelynw93

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Katelyn, but most people call me Kate, Katie or sometimes even Kat.

Age: 27

Location: Originally from Kansas, but have been located in Upstate NY for the last six years.

URL: @katelynw93​

Why did you choose your URL: It’s usually the username that I use for everything and if I’m being honest, I’m not very creative when it comes to titles or names. Lol. I’ve been meaning to change it; I just need to decide on what.  

What inspired you to become a writer: Well, when I was in middle school (maybe seventh or eighth grade), my best friend and I decided to write a story together and post it on a fanfiction site (Can’t remember the site name, though.) And I just loved it. We never did finish that story. Lol. But eventually I started branching out and found some roleplay writing sites.  

How long have you been writing: Started writing in middle school (2006/2007), but really got into it in 2009 with RP. However, September of this year (2020) was the first year I started really writing fics by myself and opening posting them. 

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I work a lot, usually an average of 40+ hours a week; I am a manager at a popular food chain restaurant and on the weekends, a cashier at a gas station to provide a little extra cash for my family. When I’m not working, my time is spent with my two kids; Alekzander (Zander) who just turned five this past November and Lincoln (Link) who will be two in February. Outside of work and my family, I’m usually writing. Sometimes if I’m feeling extra creative or inspired, I’ll create a few crackships for couples I really enjoy. Lol. 

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? I actually found Supernatural around the same time I started writing, so back in ninth grade, so 2008/2009. It was honestly an accident too, because I was searching for Smallville episodes (I have an unhealthy addiction to Superman and DC/Marvel.) and stumbled upon an ad for Supernatural. Was instantly intrigued and fell in love. Seasons 1 - 5 (the Kripke era) are my favorite. 

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Oh yea, I love TV shows and movies, and as I’ve already stated above, I love DC and Marvel. I’ve also written for Grey’s Anatomy and am willing to write for more, but SPN, DC and Grey’s are currently the only ones I’ve written for. I love The Vampire Diaries, One Tree Hill, Private Practice, Station 19, 9-1-1, Game of Thrones, The Witcher, Merlin, Dexter, Psych, and so, so many more. There are too many to list. Lol.  

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Other than RPing, not really. I mean, I did try to do an original story with my friend when I was younger, but it never went anywhere. But I am willing to try someday. 

Favorite published author: Other than the really big authors like; J.K. Rowling, George R.R. Martin, Jim Butcher, Nicholas Sparks, Suszanne Collins, I really like (and maybe it’s cliche) Stephenie Meyer. The Twilight Saga made me fall in love with reading and eventually, that love led me to writing. Those books hold a special place in my heart.  

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Well, I guess I sort of answered that one already. But there truly are so many amazing books out there and still so many more to discover. 

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): Oh man, I’m not gonna lie, a majority of what I read is probably smut. But I am particularly fond of angst. I want you to make me cry. Really dig and stab into my emotions. Lol. And then come back in with some fluff. Haha. 

Favorite piece of your own writing: Well, that would have to be Sweet Cherry Pie because it was really the first piece I’ve ever finished and published online. It was inspired by an RP that I am currently involved in and they are my favorite couple in said RP. It got so much positive feedback after I shared it that it inspired me to keep writing. I was so nervous about posting it, but I am glad I did. 

Most underrated fic you have written: Oh I’m not sure. Maybe Love Bites. I am a sucker for Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries crossovers. I really loved writing this fic and am eager to write more. 

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Oh damn, um, it’d be cool to see any of them like that. But maybe Sweet Cherry Pie or Out of the Fire (my firefighter!Dean series).  

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): There are so many, but I usually find myself reading work from; @impala-dreamer​, @katehuntington​  @deanwanddamons​, @muchamusedaboutnothing​.  

Favorite Fic from another writer: This one is tough because there are so many amazing fics out there, especially ones that I adddddore; but if forced to choose, one story that will always stick with me would have to be Treacherous by @idkhaylijah​ OR The Sullivan Series by Kate Huntington 

Favorite character to write: Dean Winchester. I adore Dean and he’s probably the easiest for me to write. I have written the most fics with him and I portray him often in the RPs that I do. 

Favorite Pairing to write: Dean with anyone, but my favorite would be Dean x Caroline. 

Least favorite character to write (and why): That’s a tough one, cause there’s not really any that I’m uncomfortable with or dislike writing. Maybe characters with accents, because I don’t really know how to capture that in writing yet? I’m pretty open with my writing and am willing to try mostly anything. 

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? Oh definitely. When I first started RPing, there was another girl (Jocelyn) that I used to write with and she influenced a lot of my writing. She was older than me and had more experience and gave me a lot of tips on how to get better. She is an amazing writer and had the potential of going far with it, but life happens and unfortunately, she doesn’t write anymore. But she is booming on Youtube, so that’s pretty impressive. It’s pretty cool to see how far she’s come. 

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I used to want to be a journalist when I was younger, but other than that, not really. I just want to have fun with it and write something meaningful for someone, and always improve and get better.  

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: I have a few ideas jotted down, maybe ten, but I haven’t actually started any of them. I have so many bingo cards I need to finish, but with my work schedule, it’s been pretty crazy. 

What are you currently working on? My main project is Out of the Fire.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Definitely the RPing that I’ve done and am currently doing. My friend Alesha has been the longest RP partner that I’ve had and her writing is phenomenal - and it helps a lot too when your mind's work in similar ways; her and I always seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to writing. I love it. But like me, she has a very busy schedule and writing is limited. 

Best writing advice you've been given: Have fun with it, write what you want to write and always be open to helpful criticism. And don’t stress about it, either. Write in your own time. It’s meant to be fun, not stressful. 

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Just finding the time to write and getting over being so self conscious about my writing. I don’t let anyone in my real life read what I write.  

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? Just capturing the personalities of the canon characters sometimes; if it’s a character I’m not used to writing, I worry about portraying them the right way. And I have trouble individualizing the characters (separating them from myself/my own personality), like when I create an OC for an RP, sometimes when I have too many, their personalities all become the same in ways (if that makes sense?). And accents. I have trouble with accents. Oh, and fight/action scenes. They take me a bit.  

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I am always going to be afraid, no matter what it is that I’m writing, because I worry about it succeeding. I want to write for other fandoms though, I guess, but like I said, I worry about capturing the characters right and having a decent storyline that is unique. 

What inspires/motivates you to write: Honestly, positive feedback. I love hearing what people think about my writing and it motivates me to continue. 

How do you deal with self-doubt: That’s a tough one. I guess I just look towards my writing friends or beta’s for reassurance or I go back and read the positive comments and likes on the fics I’ve already shared. It encourages me to continue. 

How do you deal with writer's block: I usually listen to music and I’ll look up gifs of my favorite characters, create stories in my head with those gifs or I’ll create gif sets of specific scenes. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take a break and watch one of my favorite TV shows for inspiration. 

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: For my RPs, I have a group chat with those I’m writing with and we usually shoot ideas back and forth, but mostly we wing it. For my fics, I normally just wing it, but with Out of the Fire, I have a rough idea of what I want from each part. With that said, my ideas or plans often change as I’m writing. These characters have a mind of their own sometimes. Lol.  

Do you have any weird writing habits: I don’t know about any weird habits, but I always have music on and I guess I have to do it in spurts. I’ll write a few paragraphs or sentences, pause and scroll tumblr or facebook or gifs, and then go back, reread what I wrote and then write a few more. Rise and repeat. 

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? So far, no I haven’t, and I hope I don’t ever have to deal with that. But I know it’s bound to happen. I guess if I were to ever encounter that, I’d like to say that I’ll take it as a learning experience but I honestly don’t know I’d feel about that.  

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? Oh man, I guess my favorite would have to be ellewritesfix05 reaction to the secret santa fic I wrote for her; Dean Fucking Winchester. And all the positive feedback I’ve gotten for Out of the Fire.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Have fun with it. Write what you want and what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be afraid of constructive criticism and most importantly, don’t stress. Writing is fun.

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

He Calls Me Kitten (Yandere)

Trigger warning: It’s yandere so it’s gonna be abusive. Don’t kink shame me lol

This is actually part 2 read part 1 here.

This was written in response to a request: yandere taeyong x extra obedient submissive female reader? smut. whatever you think about ~♡ 

This is my first time writing smut, so I hope ya’ll like it. 

Taeyong X Reader Smut

It’s been a month since Taeyong threatened to hurt your friend. After you agreed to start following his rules, he locked you in your personal bedroom while he took her home. You have no idea how long he had her or how he managed to get her home without getting caught or even if he took her home at all. You still had no contact with the outside world so it wasn’t like you could send her a text or check in on her, All you knew was that if you disobeyed Taeyong you risked the lives of all those you care about, so you did what you had to. You submitted completely.

At first it was really difficult to follow his rules because there were so many and since you used to rebel against them, you never bothered to learn them. You were worried that Taeyong was going to hurt you or worse, someone you cared about even if you only made one mistake. That didn’t turn out to be the case. Taeyong could tell that you were making an effort to obey him, so he acted out of character and took mercy on you. That isn’t to say that you weren’t punished, just not punished harshly, like before. Punishments were changed to things like no dinner, receiving a harsh scowling, or losing the tv privileges for a day. After a week, punishments returned to physical violence, but instead of full on beatings, Taeyong would spank you as his main form of punishment.  

You did everything in your power to appease Taeyong. You figured that you would just have to accept the fact that this was your life now. You were no longer the girl who once fought back against your captor. That girl was gone. She was broken.  

It wasn’t all bad though. You found life more enjoyable when you submitted. Less punishments, and more interaction. You still haven’t been able to talk to anyone but Taeyong in over two months, but you were able to disassociate the angry Taeyong from the Taeyong who kept you company throughout the day.

It had officially been one week since you last broke a rule, the longest period you’ve managed thus far, and things became...different. You realized that the psychological toll this entire situation was probably the reason for your thinking but having gone an entire week without angering Taeyong had allowed you to see a side of him that almost resembled a normal boyfriend.  

When he had first kidnapped you, he claimed that he did it out of love. He told you that he was in love with you and that you were meant to be his and only his forever. Yet every action he took since then had felt like it was out of hatred for you, at least until you started obeying him.

This week he had been especially kind. He brought home dresses, saying that he bought it knowing you would like it. He would make your favorite meals and talk for hours about things he knew interested you. You would stare at him during dinner because he demanded eye-contact whenever you were talking or listening to him talk and you noticed how attractive he was. Before you had only seen him as a monster, so you never noticed how handsome his features were. His eyes were so large, like he was an anime character, and his jaw was so perfect you could use it to measure angles. You couldn’t help but wonder, how could a guy so attractive want you? He could have any girl he wanted, as long as they didn’t find out about his psycho personality. So why did he choose someone so average?  

Despite Taeyong having no problem with hurting you in the past, he had never forced you to do anything sexual up to this point. He hadn’t even demanded a kiss, but you were worried that might not be the case for long.  

Taeyong recognized that the more time he spent with you, the less angry he got when you misbehaved. He knew he couldn’t let you figure this out though, so he tried to be as consistent as possible in his punishments, despite going easy on you every once in a while.  

You didn’t know this, but Taeyong actually wanted you to want him. He felt like he had to break you to make you comfortable with the lifestyle he forced you into, but he didn’t want to force you to love him back. Even with you acting the way that you were, something felt wrong. He didn’t know if the conversations where you both laughed together were real or just you acting like how you thought he wanted you to act. He was okay with waiting for you to want him, especially now that you were slowly getting used to everything, but there was one problem.

Taeyong knew that you weren’t ready, but he was struggling with the wait. Every time he saw you when you didn’t know that he was there, you looked more beautiful than the day he first saw you. He didn’t know how difficult living with you would be when he knew he couldn’t touch you in the way he wanted to so desperately.  

The way the clothes he bought you hugged your curves. The way you would bite your lips whenever you were processing something he said. Just the way you looked at him when you were afraid you might have broken a rule, were enough to make his pants feel too tight. There were several instances where you would unknowingly do something that turned him on so much, that he had to excuse himself for a few hours. He thought he would go crazy. He even considered just taking you a few times, but he knew that having you crave for his touch would be much more satisfying.  

You weren’t a virgin, so you knew how to have sex and you had been masturbating since your early teens. Taeyong found out that you weren’t a virgin back when he first started stalking you, but he didn’t care who touched you before him because you were his now. You hadn’t even thought about touching yourself since you started living with Taeyong out of fear that he might have security cameras in every room. This took a serious toll on your hormones because you felt like you were going to explode if you kept putting off your release.  

You knew it was bad when one night you had a dream about having sex with your captor. You woke up and the first thing you noticed were how soaked your underwear was.  

“Was that a wet dream?” you asked yourself out loud.  

You had gone do long without orgasming that it made sense that your boy would... well experience one, but you couldn’t help but feel dirty about experiencing one while thinking about... him.  

Remembering the contents of the dream you felt even more confusion. You know that he was a monster, but for some reason you can’t help but imagine what he would look like with him mouth around your... yeah. You also take the sheets off of your bed and take them to the laundry room. You’re still wearing you’re the same pastel pink night gown you slept in, but you changed into new underwear. You turn on the washer and then look at the clock hanging on the wall.

“Fuck. I’m late!” you curse under your breath.

Breakfast was at 8 am every day and it was 8:01. You knew that you were screwed no matter what, but still you ran to the dining room. Taeyong was already sitting down for breakfast when you entered the room.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you stated as soon as you sat down.  

Taeyong just looked at you and you became confused until you realized that you were still wearing your nightgown, which was barely long enough to cover your butt and definitely showed more cleavage than any of your day clothes. Taeyong kept staring and you threw your hands up to cover your chest.  

“I’m sorry that I’m late and that I’m not dressed,” you apologized.

Taeyong coughed. He really couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to rip the nightgown off of you.  

“You’re not late, it’s 7:56,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“But the clock in the laundry room said I was late,” you explained.

Taeyong looked at you as you took a sip of your water.

“Why were you in the laundry room this early?” he inquired.

Youre face turned red as you remembered your dream. An image of Taeyong watching you as he slams his member into you fills your mind and you choke on your water.

Taeyong looks at you, confused.  

“I was just trying to do laundry earlier so that it would dry before tonight,” you hurriedly answer.

Taeyong seems satisfied by your answer.

“Go change into that blue dress that I bought you. Don’t take more than five minutes,” He commanded.

You stood up from the table and made your way to your room. You didn’t have time to process the images that kept flooding your mind, so you changed into your dress and went back to eat breakfast.

The day was a very confusing day for both of you. Taeyong had never seen so much of your body before. Even when he was stalking you, he never had a good view of your bedroom, so he rarely saw you dressed up in anything that revealing. Even when he had to force you out of your room, you were always dressed in your day clothes. You couldn’t stop thinking about your dream and being near the star of it didn’t help.  

You both subtly avoided each other as much as possible until it was time for dinner. Taeyong always had a glass of wine with dinner. You tried your best to avoid drinking around him so that you wouldn’t risk breaking a rule due to being intoxicated, but tonight, you knew that you needed some help getting through and entire dinner with the man you did unspeakable things with in your dream.  

“Umm... Taeyong?”  

Taeyong looked at you.

“Yes?” he replied.

“Is it okay if I have a glass of wine as well tonight?”

Taeyong didn’t respond. He merely got up and walked into the kitchen. He soon returned with a clean glass and poured you a modest serving of the crimson liquid.  

You thanked him and then downed the glass in one go, earning a confused look from the man in front of you.  

“Is something wrong, kitten?”

The nickname which had once felt demeaning caused fire to rise up into your cheeks.  

“no, sir. Nothing is wrong.”

Taeyong looked you in the eyes with that intense gaze as if he were saying “If I catch you lying, you’re dead.”

You gulped.  

Taeyong kept looking at you, but eventually continued eating.  

God, what is wrong with me? You wondered to yourself. You were terrified of Taeyong and yet excited by him. Is this what they called Stockholme syndrome? No, you weren’t in love with him, just attracted to him.  

“If you’re done eating, you can go back to your room,”

Your thoughts were interrupted as your captor dismissed you. He remained seating which was peculiar because he normally required you to wait until he left the table. You hesitate for a moment but decide to follow his more recent orders than worrying about his rules. You make your way to your room and let out a huge sigh. That was so awkward.  

You decide to go to bed early tonight but are unable to fall asleep due to the wild thoughts running through your head. After an hour of just staring at the ceiling, you decide to go get yourself some milk, hoping it will aid you in falling asleep faster. You slowly make your way down the hall. Your room was at the end of the hall, a few rooms away from Taeyong’s. You wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t wake him, so you had to keep quiet while passing his room, but you noticed something peculiar. His door was open. Was he not in bed? You stared at the door. It wasn’t wide open, just cracked a bit, as if it was meant to be closed, but you weren’t sure. You didn’t want to go downstairs if Taeyong was still down there, so you decided to move closer to investigate.  

When you moved closed you noticed a strange noise coming from the other side. It sounded like someone in pain. Curiosity got the best of you and you slowly opened the door, not knowing what was on the other side.  

Inside you saw Taeyong, eyes closed with one arm keeping him steady as he leaned against the against the wall. His other hand slowly pumping his member. Your eyes widened at the sight, but you remained silent. You couldn’t help but stare. Taeyong’s hard was messy, as if he had been running his hands through it. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he was concentrating on his thoughts. He was fully dressed but he had taken his cock out of his pants. You were only a few yards away, but he hadn’t noticed you peeking through the open door.  

“Ah. God. Y/N. Fuck,” He moaned.

Your breathing hitched slightly. He was thinking about you? It should have seemed obvious since he was literally obsessed with you, but for some reason, you couldn’t believe that such a godly man was fantasizing about you. You noticed a burning feeling coming from your core. If your hormones were driving you crazy this morning, then they were driving you absolutely fucking insane now. You closed your eyes as your hand made its way to your clothed wetness. You were wearing the same nightgown from this morning. You weren’t drunk, but it felt like it. You knew that it was wrong, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel full.  

“Y/N?”

Your eyes shot open at your gaze met Taeyong’s. He hadn’t move from his original spot, but his head was turned towards you. You gasped and turned to run away until...

“Stop,” ordered Taeyong. You stopped, having gotten used to following his every order this last week.  

Taeyong came out of his room and you couldn’t help but notice he had zipped up his pants. He positioned himself right in front of you and leaned his face closer to yours. His face remained cold as he put his arm on the wall above you. The image of him having been in that same position moments earlier crosses you mind. You remained silent, waiting for him to do something.  

“What were you doing Y/N? And remember, don’t lie,” he said in his rough voice.

“I...I was going to get a glass of milk, but I heard noise coming from your room so I opened the door to see where it was coming from,” you answered.

“I see,” Taeyong leaned in closer so that his lips were merely inches away from brushing against your ears.  

“Are you sure that it was curiosity that made you open the door?”  

You could feel his smirk forming despite him not having touched you. The heat that was vacating your core had spread to your cheeks as you blushed. Had you known the cause of the sound? What he right? Did you know what he was doing, yet chose to open it anyway?

“I... I,” you stuttered.

Taeyong didn’t even let you finish before he asked his next question.

“And what was my little kitten doing while she watched me?” he asked, his breath tickling your ear

Despite your embarrassment, you knew that he saw you and that lying would just lead to you being in more trouble than you already were.  

“I was touching myself,” you squeaked.  

Taeyong chuckled into your ear.

“And why would my little kitten me touching herself like that?”

“Because I... I,” you found yourself almost admitting your dirty fantasies to Taeyong. It was almost as if you really were drunk, despite only having half a drink an hour prior.

Taeyong was not pleased with your sudden hesitance to answer him. He grabbed your throat with his free hand but didn’t apply any pressure.

“Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you didn’t do what I say?” he warned.

You looked up at his big doe eyes and swallowed.

“I was touching myself because I wanted you to fuck me,” you replied in a quiet voice. Your embarrassment at the words that fell from your mouth was apparent.  You closed your eyes tight, afraid of seeing the satisfied face in front of you.

Before you are able to open your eyes, Taeyong grabs your hands pinning them to the wall above your head. You stare at his face, not being able to decipher his emotions. You thought he would be smirking at your confession, but he looked angry, no you had seen him angry before and this wasn’t it. You could hear his breath was heavier than usual and his gaze was intense. He wasn’t mad, he was hungry.  

“You know, only bad kittens go poking their heads where they don’t belong. Do you know what happens to bad kittens? They get punished, especially little perverted kittens like you,” He growled.

Suddenly afraid hearing the word punishment, you braced yourself for whatever pain he was about to inflict, but you kept eye contact. You knew that this was probably the most punishable thing you had done since you arrived.

Taeyong inched his body closer to yours.

“If you want to get out of this punishment alive, you better do whatever I say,” his hot breath made your whole body shudder.

“Y-yes, sir AH!”

Taeyong wasted no time in attacking your neck with his mouth. It had been so long since you had anyone touch you intimately like this so every spot, he touched ended up becoming a new sweet spot. You were surprised by the sudden action, but that didn’t stop you from becoming a moaning mess. You wanted to touch him back, but your arms were pinned to the wall and you didn’t want to risk disobeying him.  

He removed his lips from your neck and the sudden absence made you frustrated beyond belief.  

Taeyong took your arms from the wall and wrapped them around his neck.

“Jump,” he commanded.

You jumped and he swiftly grabbed your legs guiding them to wrap around his waist. He carried you into his room where he sat you onto his desk, your legs still wrapped around him. He took his time taking off his own shirt, lifting it over his head and throwing it to the floor. He was thin, but more muscular than you had imagined. You could see the veins in his arms as he grabbed your waist and continued his attack on your neck.  

He had you now and there was no way he was going to stop. He knew he was going to enjoy this punishment very much.  

He grabbed you ass and pulled it to the edge of the desk, earning a loud yelp from you. HE positioned your legs so that his body was keeping them open for him. He wanted to see exactly how he made you feel so he pressed his thumb over your underwear where your slit was.  

“Who made you this wet kitten?”  

“You did, sir.”

Taeyong laughed at your response. You were being so good for him.

He raised his thumb slightly and started applied a light pressure, rubbing small circles around your clit. The friction from your underwear felt amazing, but you needed more. Small mewls escaped your mouth and you could tell that he was teasing you on purpose.  

“Taeyong,” you moaned softly.

“No talking unless I ask you a question,” Taeyong growled as he removed his hand from your heat.  

“Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” you replied.

“Good.”

Taeyong backed away a few feet and motioned for you to get off his desk, which you did.

“Kneel,” he commanded.

You kneeled in front of him.

He unzipped his pants and freed his still hard cock from his boxers.  

“Suck it,”

You looked up at him before grabbing his member with your hands. You were about to the tip into your mouth before Taeyong stopped you.

“Did I tell you you could use your hands?”

“No, sir,” you spoke softly as you returned your hand to your lap.  

You put your mouth over the head of his cock and he quietly hums in approval. You start out slowly, focusing on the tip, giving it kitten licks before you start taking him deeper into your throat. He wasn’t the biggest, but he was by far the thickest. You were worried about how long you would be able to keep this up before you got lockjaw.  

He grabbed your hair and started thrusting himself into the back off your throat. You reflexively gagged and attempted to pull away.

“Don’t pull away unless you want to see me get angry,” he warned.

You couldn’t breathe even through your nose, but you pushed through the discomfort until he withdrew himself from your mouth. You could see long strings of your saliva still connecting your lips to his throbbing dick.  

“Get up,” Taeyong groaned through heavy breaths.  

You stood up in front of him waiting for your next order, but he just grabbed you and turned you so that you were facing the desk. He pushed your body down, slamming you onto the desk. He held your head down with one of his hands and used the other to pull your underwear down. He had wanted to taste you, to force you to keep your legs open when he made you cum on his tongue, but he couldn't handle waiting any longer. He would have to punish you more harshly next time, he thought to himself. The thought of denying your orgasm for hours on end only made his cock feel more needy than it already was.  

Hanging above his desk was a large mirror that captured both of your upper bodies perfectly. Taeyong noticed this and smirked at the sight of him finally being able to take you. He loved seeing your body in such a vulnerable position. He loved the way he could see your essence running down your thighs. He hadn’t even touched you for more than a few seconds and yet you were soaking wet, all for him and him only.  

“What did you say you wanted earlier, kitten?”  

“I want you to fuck me, sir.”

“And why on earth would I do that?” He teased in his deep voice.

“Please,” you whined.  

He slapped your ass hard enough to leave a mark.

“Please what? Use your words kitten.”

“Please fuck me, sir.”

“Hmmm,” Taeyong hummed.

“I don’t know if bad little kittens like you deserve to be fucked.”

You could feel another wave of your juices running down your thighs. You were dripping.

“Maybe I should just handcuff you to the bed and tease you all day. What do you think about that kitten? Doesn’t that seem like a much more suitable punishment?”

Taeyong knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, but he loved seeing the worry in your eyes, thinking he might actually go through with that instead. He loved knowing you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.  

“Please fuck me, sir. I’ll be a good kitten. I’ll be your good kitten. Please,” you whined, trying to convince him to give you what you so desperately wanted.  

Taeyong slapped your ass again and you yelped in pain.

“Good kittens don’t beg. Got it?” he growled, but he secretly loved hearing you beg for his cock.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re a perverted little cockslut who just wants to be fucked by her owner’s cock, don’t you? Say it.”

“I’m a perverted little cockslut who just wants to be FUCK!”

Taeyong had shoved the entirety of his length into you mid sentece and continued thrusting in and out of your tight heat.

“Don’t you dare stop,” He roared as he pounded into you.  

You stuttered trying to complete his command.

“fucked by my owner’s cock!” you screamed out.

“Again!” he spat.

“I’m a perverted ah little ah cockslut who just ah wants to be ah fucked by her ah owner!”

You struggled to speak the words as fucked you mercilessly. You knew that wouldn’t be long before you’d come undone.  

Taeyong grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to face the mirror.

“Do you like watching me fuck you Y/N? Do you like seeing how fucked out I make you look?”

It was true, your face was bright red and you had tears welling up in your eyes. If you were wearing mascara, it would surely be running down your cheeks.  Your tits were bouncing so much that they had somehow escaped the top of your nightgown.

“Yes! I like it!” You screamed as you felt your orgasm approaching.

Taeyong could feel that you were about to come because your walls started to tighten around him, and your legs were shaking.  

You couldn’t stop moaning and Taeyong had never heard a sweeter sound.  

The feeling spread from your core throughout your entire body. You couldn’t help but scream out Taeyong’s name, but he didn’t mind the sudden outburst. Your body kept shaking and it felt like you were in another dimension. Taeyong took no mercy on you as he continued his unrelenting thrusts. You didn’t know how much more you could handle. Your orgasms normally only ever lasted a few seconds before you started to feel overstimulated and Taeyong was not letting up in the slightest. Screams poured out your mouth and you couldn’t even attempt to beg him to stop. All your energy was being drained from your body. You felt your eyes rolling into the back of your head as everything faded to black.  

The final vibrations of your walls caused Taeyong to cum as he gave your pussy one last thrust. He breathed heavily as he looked at your limp body, passed out on his desk. He couldn’t help but smile. HE had managed to punish you while still allowing you your release.  

Taeyong lifted your body off of the desk and carried you over to the bed. He when to the bathroom and grabbed a wet. He used the rag to wipe away the cum that spilled down your legs and reminded himself to buy plan b tomorrow when he got the chance.  

He got in the bed with you and lifted up the duvet to cover your bodies. Your sleeping self felt the warm presence lying next to you and instinctively wrapped your arms and legs around it. Taeyong smiled and adjusted himself so your head was resting on his chest. You were finally his.  

[andthatisnotfake]

Fanfiction tag meme

I got tagged by the lovely @captainjowl - thanks sweetie, I loved reading yours and doing this was a lot of fun too.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

164 (most of them are quite short though)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

356855 (that’s an average of just a bit more than 2k per work; considering some of them are much longer than that, as I said, most of them are quite short)

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Written in the Stars (model!Ian x photographer!Mickey)

Across the Hall (Mickey and Mandy move across the hall from Ian and Lip - it has both ships)

Always Starting Over (A Butterfly Effect Gallavich AU)

Those Three Words (a one-shot about Mickey contemplating saying those words - set in whatever season was on when I wrote it, for the Gallavich Gift Exchange 2013)

A Night for Firsts (another one-shot, written for GW2013, about the night Ian and Mickey had a sleepover in 3x666).

Why am I not surprised they’re all Gallavich? lol

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! It helps that I don’t get many lol

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm... I don’t usually write angsty endings to be honest. The only one that I rememver now that does end quite sadly is Little Boy Blue (a Branjie “canon-compliant” one-shot)

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My fics normally all end up happily, so I tried to find the cutest, most sugary ending, and in a multi-chapter. I think it’s The Right Person (a f/f Taywhora bartender AU that I just now realized has over 100 kudos!). 

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

No, I don’t think I have ever written a proper crossover.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully, no. The joys of not being fandom famous.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup, sure do! I’m not sure what “what kind” means? Like, what kinds of pairings? Usually m/m, but I’ve written my fair share of m/f as well. I don’t remember if I’ve ever written f/f smut, but it’s only a matter of time (I’ve definitely read it though).

Other than that, I’ve written lots of “kinds” of smut, from pwp to super romantic and inclusing several kinks.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a few times, and it was one of the coolest things anyone has ever done. Highest praise!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, but I’ve been thinking about it lately...

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Hm, this is difficult because I go through phases. I don’t let go of ships, but I normally obsess about one at a time. That being said, I think Gallavich was the one that spent the longest as my obsession, it’s definitely the one I’ve written most for, and it’s the one I created a blog for, so they take the crown.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don’t have many WIPs and I do intend to finish the ones I have, buuuuut... A loooooooong time ago I was writing a Harry Potter next-gen fic that I stopped and honestly don’t think I’ll ever continue. The will has totally left me.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I enjoy writing dialogue and I think it comes quite easily to me. I think I can write funny lines too. And my smut is not half-bad.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Describing emotions, especially angst. I always have a hard time trying to make a characters thoughts and emotions clear.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t think I’ve ever done it, but I don’t mind, if it makes sense in the story. It often makes me wonder how accurate it is though.

Also, please, we speak Portuguese in Brazil. If you set a fic in Brazil and have the people speak Spanish I’ll close the fic so quickly!

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Darkover, a fantasy/sci-fi book series that in hindsight is probably not that good, but which I was obsessed with when I was a teenager. I wrote it by hand on a notebook, in Portuguese.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Hm, no, not at the moment. I’m sure there will be other fandoms in my future, but at the moment, I’ve got more than enough!

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Always Starting Over, but I’m really enjoying writing That’s what you get (when you let your heart win), it’s so different from other stuff I’ve written and so good vibes (it’s a DRUK2 Pitch Perfect AU).

Tagging @junosjukebox, @poppedthep, @artificialortega, @bellafarella and @daughterofscotland​

[purplesurveys]

1273

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for?  Maybe for half an hour? Mine are never that bad.

What type of TV shows are your favourite?  Not a big TV show type of person to begin with since it seems as if my attention span wasn’t built for once-a-week, season-breaks kind of content haha. I do like sitcoms, I guess...bite-sized ones like Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Big Bang Theory, etc. Drama shows I’d bite into if the plot is extremely intriguing to me or relevant to my interests, like The Crown or Breaking Bad.

Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything?  I was before then I wasn’t for a very long time, then I came back just recently with this BTS shit I got myself into.

Do you know anyone who has died in battle?  Hmm. I don’t think so. My great-grandpa lived a few more decades after the war.

When was the last time you went on an adventure?  July. My friends and I spent the whole day driving around and stopping by sooo many spots around the metro. It was a lot of fun and we were fucking b e a t after.

What brand is your vacuum cleaner?  I dunno. My mom mainly uses ours.

Are you good at rapping?  I have a number of songs and verses memorized that I can recite quite okay, but I can’t write any of my own.

Name one world issue that upsets you.  Racism.

How do you feel about tanning?  I never saw the the big deal. I will say tanning beds and salons are such a culture shock to me, though. Are some people really that obsessed with modifying their skin tone?

Have you ever given a public speech? Hmm, just the one time I was entered into a public speaking competition and was given a topic to talk about on the spot. That was honestly a lot of fun and I wish there were more opportunities to do that exact same thing.

Do you read comic books?  No. I tried getting into that whole thing, but didn’t see the appeal.

Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved?  Not always but if I’m starting to feel left out or awkward, I will start to ask a question here and there to ease my way into the conversation. But if the topic is clearly none of my business then I do stay out of the way.

Kiss with your eyes open or closed?  Closed.

Do you believe you can change someone?  This isn’t a black and white matter, I think. The idea of changing a person can have a lot of layers; in my org, for instance, I got to pick up a few quirks and behaviors from my friends just by being around them for a long time – in that sense, I changed. But you can also strive to change someone who’s struggling and try to make them become happy, which I tried to do with my ex – which of course I learned the hard way that you can’t change someone if in that context.

How did you react when your first pet died?  I was bummed out but didn’t throw a fit.

Have you ever drawn anime?  No.

Can you use a pogo stick?  I’ve never even seen one in real life. I’m dying to try it out just once.

When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like?  I don’t like anybodyyy.

Do you like bathing/showering?  I mean...yes? Like I’m not obsessed with showering, but it’s a necessity that I have to regularly do anyway lmao.

Have you ever considered entering a race?  Sure! Just give me a couple of weeks to practice because my endurance and stamina are embarrassing.

Rihanna or Lady Gaga?  Rihanna.

Who was your first good kiss with?  My ex.

What accessory do you want in your bedroom?  SHELVES

What do you take the most pictures of?  My experiences.

What are you always in the mood for?  Starbuuuuuuckssssssss.

What is something that you never turn down?  A day out with friends. I’ll always make time. What is something that you always turn down when offered?  Food, if I’m a guest at someone else’s place.

Name something sexy about your significant other.  I don’t have any.

What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up?  Surveys, I guess. I enjoy them too much and have been doing them for nearly a decade.

If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be?  Tennis.

If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be?  PIANO.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon. I would be too terrified seeing dead people, anyway.

Have you ever been on a subway? Nope.

Are you in love?  No.

Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing?  Sure. Softly, roughly...both are fine hahaha.

Do you want to get married when you’re older?  I hope so. I want my turn, too.

What was the last band shirt you wore?  Eh, I don’t own any. I wore a fanmade V-themed shirt yesterday, if that counts.

You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose?  OMGGGG that sounds so fucking good rn. Chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever given someone flowers?  Mhm, I used to give my ex bouquets whenever it was our anniversary.

What day of the week is usually your busiest day?  Monday like 98% of the time, so I hate them. It ultimately varies, though. Sometimes some days are a hell of a lot more hectic than others.

Do you have any concerts coming up? I mean...obviously not.

Do you like or hate the smell of fish?  Oh yessssssss. The smell of seafood/ocean always makes me fucking drool.

What’s your favorite brand of chips?  Pringles, or this local brand of salted egg chips that I love to get.

Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud?  Yeah, once. We had to write a poem as our homework and my teacher picked out a couple that he thought were the best-written, and one of them was mine even though I still firmly believe I did a shit job.

Do you like pineapple?  Oh god no. One of the worse fruits I’ve had.

Does your house have a dishwasher?  No. It seems to be just a Western thing.

Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo?  I probably do, but I just can’t give you a lineup of names. Flower tattoos seem to be trendy these days, especially in the line style.

How many different languages can you say goodbye in?  So I have goodbye, paalam, 안녕히 가세요, adios, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, au revoir...so that’s 7.

Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies.  Ummmm definitely childish and I can feel that the humor tries so hard sometimes but I do enjoy some of his movies, like 50 First Dates. 

Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for?  Yeah, I mentioned this on a previous survey.

Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail?  No, I’ve never dated anyone who’s been imprisoned.

If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it?  I ‘babysat,’ but technically all eldest Asian daughters are expected to look out for their younger siblings and cousins anyway. I didn’t actively enjoy it, but sure, it was fun playing with them and it’s always nice to be viewed as responsible.

What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds?  I don’t eat sunflower seeds. I don’t dislike them, I just really never seek them out.

Do you get cold easily?  Yes.

Do you get a lot of spiders in your house?  Hmm no. If we do get visited they are almost always too small to be seen.

Do you admire nature?  Yeah, I try to be around it as often as I can.

Name one naughty thing you’ve done.  Had sex while a few people were in the same room. I pay for it now hahaha; those friends who had the misfortune to be in that situation have never let me live it down and it’s one of their go-to stories when I’m being introduced to new friends.

Name two of your favorite things as a child.  I loved everything Bratz. I also liked Play-Doh.

Do you own a Pillow Pet?  No, I’ve never even heard of that.

Do you tend to solve problems with violence?  Never.

Have either of your parents gone to jail?  Nope.

Do you know a hoarder?  I heard my grandma had been one, but I didn’t see traces of it when I used to visit her. I guess she had been when she was younger and stronger. I show traces of hoarding too, but I don’t think it’s at a concerning level; I literally just threw out a bunch of shit in my room I’ve hoarded over the last five or so years.

Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows?  I don’t touch them; I’m never all that worried about my appearance. On very rare instances, I will shave some of the excess hair off. Do you have any interesting scar stories?  None of them are interesting tbh, just results of my own stupidity.

Do you hate the texture of meatballs?  I don’t hate their texture but I also just don’t enjoy meatballs in general. I find them boring, which has always led me to think if they’re really supposed to be just boring clumps of meat or if I’ve just always been served average meatballs.

Do you get migraines? Yes, I usually get one after work. They’ve decreased in frequency now but one will drop by every now and then to give me a shit time.

Do you like guns?  No.

Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') < Yes! Except cockroaches.

How much time do you spend taking surveys?  I dedicate an hour or so every weekend. I often wish I can allot more time, but I also have other hobbies and interests I would usually want to catch up on during the weekends. 48 hours is just too short :(

Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even need to think about it.

Would you like to work at a candy shop?  Uh no. If I had to, it would be on the back-end, maybe in the corporate side of things lol.

Do you have feelings for someone?  Nope.

Which one of your guy friends is the best looking?  JM.

Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf?  No.

Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player?  I don’t use music players anymore but my Spotify always reminds me of how much I listen to BTS whenever they do one of their quirky listening habit reports lol.

Which song describes your mood at the moment?  I want to go with RM’s Bicycle just because I’m feeling quite content and relaxed at the moment.

Which movie(s) do you quote the most?  Eh, I’m not a big movie quoter.

Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date?  I honestly don’t see any of them as date-able.

Would you ever let anybody else drive your car?  Sure. I’ve let Hans and Gab drive it countless times when I’ve had too much to drink. It’s a small car and is fairly easy to use and navigate. I would let Anj use it too at some point, but I want her to perfect her u-turns first hahahaha.

Which one of your friends will be the most successful?  It’s already one of my friends to begin with but I’m not naming names. They come from a privileged background to begin with and their godfather already handed one of his companies down to them, so. They were also told the CEO position is already a sure slot for them.

What store did you last shop at?  I wanna say NCAT, this Korean-themed store that sells trinkets and jewelries and plushies and stuff. They also sell BTS albums so Anj and I dropped by to check out and touch all the albums we can’t afford yet HAHA

Do you think telepathy is real?  No.

When did you last draw something for fun?  Last Saturday when I played an online drawing/guessing game with my uncles and aunts.

Who makes the most in your entire family?  My dad.

Do you like writing essays?  I love essays, it’s my favorite writing piece to make.

Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal?  It turns into one when it gets obsessive, like when people get excessive plastic surgeries specifically to look like another person. I’m looking at you, fucking Oli London.

Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up?  It’s picked up.

When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands?  I look away and just sneeze. Sometimes I’ll put up my elbow.

Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? Erm, I usually had it at night. I only had morning sex when we would spend the night; and I nearly never had noon sex.

Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test?  No.

Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?  Gun to my head, Lil Wayne.

Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently:  Reena!!! I’m so grateful Angela introduced us to each other :) We both tend to get shy so we don’t actually actively get chatty when we see each other irl, but I love her presence and I love that she is my friend. I make up for it by being super friendly and wacky in our group chat haha. Does your car have a sunroof?  No. We used to have a car that did, but we had to sell that during the peak of the pandemic.

Are you closer to your mom or your dad?  Dad.

Have you ever had a friend with benefits? No.

Who’s the last person you cuddled with?  My ex.

Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook?  Yeup.

[leavetwn]

* KAYLEE BRYANT, CISWOMAN + SHE/HER  | you know SUZIE TANAKA, right? they’re TWENTY-ONE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, EIGHTEEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VALENTINE BY HOPE TALA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ROLLERSKATES SCUFFED FROM YEARS OF USE, STARTING A JOURNAL ENTRY TWO YEARS SINCE THE LAST ONE, A SIGH OF RELIEF ONCE YOU'RE FINALLY ALONE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is NOVEMBER 28TH, so they’re a SAGGITARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

it’s me again ! bringing a character who i’ve played for a while now, just switched up & such for every rp, and now , i’m bringin her here. :^) i hope you enjoy her as much as i do! tw: mentions of mental illness (anxiety)

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: suzie tanaka. nickname(s): su, anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-one. date of birth: november 28th. zodiac sign: saggitarius. gender/pronouns: ciswoman, she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: san francisco, californio. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: part time waitress at cutie pie’s thanks to her skills on skates. full time student at the local college in her junior year as a creative writing major. she minors in film pro eye color: brown. hair color/style: dark brown, upper-mid back length & she usually just wears it in a simple ponytail. it’s more manageable when she’s out. however, when she’s at home, she’ll leave it down. height : 5′3″. clothing style: you can’t really put suzie’s style into one category. it’s inspired by several different eras & many times she pieces it together. some might call it a bit tacky at times, but she thinks it looks cute. to her, that’s all that matters. tattoos: none. probably could never attempt to get one cause she’s seriously afraid of needles lol. piercings: her ears and that’s when she was fairly young. reference the tattoos portion for reasoning.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

when you were around six years old  , you first realized that you were lonely. it wasn’t like you weren’t around other people. it was just that those people were mostly your mom and dad. occasionally your cousins would come over sometimes, but they were all older than you by at least four years. your parents were kind of eccentric, and for that, they experienced how harsh other kids could be very early on. they decided they didn’t want you to experience the same things, so since both were felt they were prepared enough to do so, they homeschooled you to keep you sheltered from those types of things. 

you’re sure they had good intentions. that’s not something you questioned, but you wished they’d at least find another kid you could be friends with or have another kid. you found yourself bored by yourself, so you immersed yourself in things like books or whatever movies they had around the house. this is where your love of fairytales began, and you’d fantasize about living in one while you read or watched the stories unfold.

you lived in your head, and you still pretty much do. you’re an idealist, even though you haven’t seen much of the world. perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t ventured very far from your home that makes you so, and while life could still be boring, you always had another book or movie to keep you company. you grew content being on your own, and the more that you were, the more you began to enjoy your own company.

that didn’t change the fact that you longed for friends. in all the stories you read or watched, the protagonist had one other person along with them for much of their journey. sure, you had people that you were friendly with, but it was never to the extent that you wanted. it was never a best friend or a close group  —  just someone you saw on few occasions. it also didn’t help how you felt when you were around others. the way you monitored every step you took, the way you crossed your legs, or going over the way you would speak to someone in your head over and over. you figured for the longest time it was because you were shy, but a diagnosis of anxiety gave you a lot more clarity and almost a sense of relief. those things started to make more sense.

being alone helped a lot when it came to academics. you spent a lot of your time studying or looking up random ass facts on the internet, and because of this, you’d call yourself fairly smart. you know your shit. it also helped a lot when getting into colleges. you didn’t aim too high though, not yet comfortable being all the way on your own. so, you chose the nearby university to attend. 

you move out. you’re excited, and your parents are nervous but prepared. they’re not oblivious to the fact that this day would come. you’re ready to go out and face the world, but most of all, you’re ready to make friends. you’re ready to go out and experience the world, every small step at a time. you’re convinced at college you’ll become a brand new person, find yourself, and make plenty of friends. 

it doesn’t go like that at first. of course it doesn’t. it’s a new environment, and it takes getting used to. but soon, people loosen up and warm up to you. you’re quick to make a couple of friends. it isn’t at all like the stories you’d read or watched when you were younger. it is happy and fun and joyous, but you realize that friendships take work. it’s a bit exhausting, as someone who had become such an introvert, but you manage and form close bonds. 

as of now, you are working on your degree and managing life one step at a time. you’re doing pretty well, and things are looking up. you keep your head in the clouds still to this day, imagining what the future will be like. you’re still idealistic and optimistic, not that that’s a bad thing.  

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

i was being exaggerative with the ‘being at home’ stuff rip. i mean, she did spend a lot of time at home, but she wasn’t always there. her dad would take her out to rockin’ and rollin’, and i mean, she fuckin rocks when it comes to skating. it was kind of freeing to her as a child. she def got a pair of rollerblades as a christmas present, and she probably was the kid skating down her neighborhood road and shit from sunrise until her mom told her to take her ass inside. 

maybe seems like she’s ditzy and she’s probably somewhat naive, but she’s definitely not stupid. she’s also a fast learner. she is, however, too nice for her own good. she’ll learn eventually, but she’s hopeful and an optimist at heart 💔

loves her dad but tells her mom everything. she doesn’t recognize it, but her mom was probably her first best friend lmaoo. they have a really good relationship. she has a good relationship with her dad too. he’s a bit more closed off than her mom, and she recognizes that but understands.

has an irrational fear that everyone’s like,,, staring at her & thinking she’s weird. really wants everyone to like her but she’s not sure how to make that happen (news flash, it won’t)

her fam is actually from san francisco but when she was 3, her dad got a better offer in irving so that’s how they ended up here. she knows this & she wonders what life woulda been like if she stayed back in san fran. probably wouldn’t have changed but she literally lives in her head and imagines shit like that’s her job at this point so yehhh 

dreams of being a screenwriter and maybe even a director one day. she saw how film and books influenced her life as a kid & she wants to have the same impact, yk? v cute to me i love that. maybe she’ll write a book one day too who knows

i’m feelin like she has a ton of online friends cause she was seeking connection /w people so it makes sense. shout out to all her online pals who kept her sane & shit, but it wasn’t enough for her cause she really wanted those kinds of things irl.

is a hopeless romantic rip to her. just wants someone to sweep her up off her feet and give her butterflies but this aint no damn fairytale so let’s make it chaotic

character parallels: lily (dash & lily, 2020) , amélie poulain (amélie, 2001) , belle in some ways lmao (beauty and the beast, 1991) more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

*  friends, best friends, etc.  — literally any friends at all. this is the connection she craves the most tbh. platonic over romantic periodt ! she just wants people to braid her hair and have deep, personal convos with about literally anything while legally blonde is on the television. 

* a bad influence  —  i mean, she stayed inside mostly & is kind of an introvert. didn’t have tons of friends either, so she didn’t really have time to go to parties, etc. BE A BAD INFLUENCE SHE NEEDS TO LET LOOSE LMAOO. it’ll prolly take a lot to get her out but hey 

* good influence  — someone she’s a good influence on & who she helps in some way. i could see it happenin’. if you see it happening, i mean... hmu you know where i am mwah 💖

* crush  — someone she’s head over heels with. i mean, it probably wouldn’t take a lot. in my head she be catching feelings way too fast. it’s just a thing, but yeah, it could go either way. maybe your character is into her too or she’ll end up getting her heart broken which is lmao bound to happen one day. could also be someone who’s crushing on her but she’s way to busy focusing all her romantic attention on someone else to notice? idk i’m just here for all the plots.

* annoyance  — someone who finds her ass annoying/does not like her. she wants everyone to like her so it would be so confusing and upsetting and she would be like wtf did i do but i want it cause i love angst. sorry to all my muses out there luv yall but i’m just bein real

* again, anything at all  — if you have an idea that you love, pls don’t hesitate to hmu and lemme know. i promise i will 99.9% of the time be down. the same goes for any wanted connection doodads that i reblog like if u see it and ur like omg i luv that... PLEASE hmu i luv u all already & just wanna have plots and write with you srsly

[dandywolves]

So, uh, I had a bunch of thoughts and it turned into 1500 words of whatever this is

Building off my previous post about Jaskier getting captured by Nilfgaard or whatever and Geralt being confronted by a Doppler wearing his face (and please be mindful that literally all I know about the Witcher is from Netflix and stuff posted in the Geraskier tag here on Tumblr lol)

-Yennefer was also, at some point, captured by Nilfgaard. Probably during that last big climactic battle after she sort of self-destructed. She eventually manages to free herself, being all magical and badass, and she finds Jaskier in his cell. He’s beaten, bloodied, and generally in really rough shape. Despite their differences, she takes pity on him – even he doesn’t deserve to be subject to Nilfgaard’s cruelty – and she frees him, too.

-When Geralt finally tracks Jaskier down to wherever he was being held, the place is half-destroyed and Jaskier is gone. He’s left wondering what happened to his bard, unsure if he survived whatever was unleashed on the place.

-Thus starts the wild adventures of Yennefer and Jaskier travelling together. They don’t really plan to become travel companions, it just sort of happens – they spend some time in the same town together for a while, recuperating from their imprisonment, and they sort of bond. Jaskier probably performs Her Sweet Kiss in a tavern somewhere while trying to scrounge together some coin, and Yennefer is like, “First of all, I know that song is about me and Geralt. Second of all, I know that song is about YOU and Geralt.”

-They bond over their heartbreak and form a Fuck You, Geralt club.

-Months or years down the line, Geralt is wandering through a town with Ciri, looking for easy monsters to kill to train her and pick up coin. He hears a familiar voice – Jaskier singing in a nearby tavern. He’s shocked and excited and filled with trepidation – the last time he saw Jaskier, after all, it was a Doppler – but he enters the tavern with Ciri in tow.

-Ciri recognizes Jaskier as Julian, the charming bard who used to perform regularly in Cintra when she was a little girl. Her mother adored him and grandmother was deeply suspicious of him. When her parents died, he stopped visiting. But she knows that face and she knows that voice – he hasn’t changed a bit.

-Jaskier was performing some sort of solemn and bitter song about the White Wolf. Not hateful or damning – he can’t bear to actually sully Geralt’s reputation, given that he a) is in love with the bastard, and b) worked so hard to make a good name for him. But the song isn’t celebratory or happy or adoring. I’m thinking maybe even just the literal Song of The White Wolf from the OST.

-He catches Geralt’s eye shortly after Geralt enters, faltering on a line. Which NEVER happens. When Jaskier stops singing altogether, Geralt gestures for him to continue. “Don’t stop on my account. I’ve not heard this particular song.”

-Jaskier finishes his song. Geralt stands in the doorway like a doofus, listening to him sing, stung by the words, but strangely overwhelmed with relief and fondness to see his bard and alive and well and still doing what he loves.

-When Jaskier finishes the song, he tells his enraptured audience that he will unfortunately have to cut his evening short, grabs his things, and B-lines for a backdoor. Geralt moves to follow, but Yennefer basically materializes from the shadows to block his path. He’s confused and shocked to discover that they’re travelling together, Yennefer tells him to leave well enough alone, and she soon follows after Jaskier with Geralt watching in bewilderment

-Sometime later, Jaskier is again captured – but not by Nilfgaard.

-Yennefer seeks out Geralt. Explains what happened. Jaskier has been brought back to court to serve as Viscount. Geralt is ashamed that he did not, exactly, realize Jaskier was titled, to which Yennefer calls him an ass and points out that she heard Jaskier ramble about it on numerous occasions long before they even went on the fateful dragon hunt together. Geralt had always tuned him out, because he was an asshole and a shitty friend

-They head to Lettenhove. Jaskier is surprised to see Geralt, but quickly masks it with anger. Tells Geralt to fuck off and let him live his life. There’s some back and forth – Ciri and Yennefer try to talk to him, too, but to limited success, and it’s determined that Geralt has the best chance of getting a straight answer from him (because Jaskier is in love with him, though he doesn’t know that, and also because he has known Jaskier the longest and knows how to connect with him, no matter how shitty he actually is at doing so)

-He’s not actually captured or imprisoned or being held for ransom or anything of that sort. He’s literally just gone back to Lettenhove to properly serve as Viscount. But that doesn’t make any sense, because Jaskier clearly never had any interest in doing so, considering he left behind the comfort of nobility to live the rough life of a travelling bard. And he did this for DECADES. Clearly, something happened that forced him to return.

-Geralt finally gets an explanation from him: Nilfgaard (or maybe some other force, idk) has been moving in on Lettenhove. Their movement has been slow and insidious, enough to be a clear danger, but not enough that Lettenhove can seek aid/support from any of its neighbours. They don’t stand a chance against this threat alone, and they don’t want to be sitting on the defensive waiting for the inevitable.

-But if this enemy took an obvious, aggressive action against Lettenhove or its nobility, they could vie for protection and support from their neighbours. Enter Jaskier – a noble who has essentially never served his station, which means he isn’t needed and he won’t be missed. They want to stage an assassination against him and frame their enemy for it.

-Geralt immediately tells Jaskier he can’t do this. Jaskier, scowling at him, sneers, “You don’t control me, Geralt. I decide my own fate.”

-(I also visualize this scene happening while Jaskier is nursing a goblet of wine. He follows up this statement by downing and then slamming the goblet onto a nearby table. The wine has stained his lips red and splattered onto his pale hand, and all Geralt can think of is blood.)

-Geralt tries to follow Jaskier as he walks away, to reason with him, drag him away, maybe even beg him, but Jaskier doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he snaps his fingers and guards converge on Geralt to block his path. Geralt is left to watch Jaskier disappear through a door, slamming it shut behind him.

-Geralt tells Yennefer and Ciri. They are despondent and also like, “Fuck that, nope, we won’t let him be assassinated.”

-The hit is slated to happen at a welcome home banquet the following night. The trio show up unannounced and uninvited to the banquet, and as soon as Jaskier sees them he tells the guards to see to it that they’re removed. As guards crowd around them and start forcing them out of the hall, Geralt shouts, “Jaskier, you can’t do this!” And Jaskier just looks him dead in the eye and says, “Just let me live my life, Geralt. However I choose to.”

-Obviously, Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri aren’t about to just LEAVE, but they also aren’t going to fight and cause a huge scene. It’s not just Lettenhove present at this banquet.

-They find windows with a good vantage point, watching for any sign of someone posing as the enemy.

-Later on in the night, Jaskier steps up to perform. He briefly explains the years he spent adventuring and singing, clutching his precious elven lute with a mix of reverence and fear. He says he’s leaving behind that life, but wants to sing one last time, for old time’s sake. Of course he sings, “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher.”

-During that building and repetitious final chorus, it happens. A Doppler had been hired to pose as one of the party guests, blending perfectly, and it emerges from the shadows in the guise of an enemy assassin, firing a crossbow bolt straight into Jaskier’s throat.

-The bard falls to his knees, clutching at his throat with one hand, gasping as blood pours over his hands, and Geralt is outside just SCREAMING because it happened too suddenly for Yennefer to try to stop it with her magic.

-But Jaskier is still clutching his lute with the other hand, and the beautiful filigree and detailing starts to glow. It’s filled with elven magic, unbeknownst to him – the same magic that has kept him so young, the same magic that might have protected him from the Djinn had he carried his lute with him that day.

-In a panic, he tears the bolt free from his neck, the hole spurting and gushing blood – and then it stops. The blood flow slows. And the hole in his throat slowly seals. The glow fades from the lute, all the beautiful detailing gone, and Jaskier is left covered in his own blood but miraculously alive.

-There is a shocked pause before the entire banquet explodes into chaos. People cheering for Jaskier’s survival – outcry at the assassination attempt – demands to find the assassin that a select few people know has already shifted back into the guise of a bewildered party guest by this point, the perfect master of disguise.

-And Geralt bursts in through the fucking window, shoving people out of the way as he rushes toward Jaskier, who he grabs and pulls into the fiercest bear hug. In a low, rough voice, he rasps, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

-And Jaskier can’t even pretend to be angry anymore, because he genuinely thought he was about to die and he DIDN’T, so he hugs Geralt back and just sobs against his shoulder.

[kittensjonsa]

Otherwise, Engaged

A Jonsa Proposal AU with a slight deviation from the original.

Summary: Sansa chose ambition over her heart. Jon chooses his heart over everything else. Choices, choices. Tsk.

A 'let's kiss and make up' fluff chapter with an unexpected twist, after the tacky angst in the previous one (lol sorry, story just wrote itself that way). Rated PG. No smut yet, all good things come to those who wait!

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Chapter 8

“This..just doesn't feel right.. I can't do that to you.”

The words replayed in her mind over and over. Maybe he was drunk. People do and say stupid things when they're drunk.

Yet, Jon had managed to make her feel worse than all the shit he had wrung her through the past three years put together. Something's wrong with me. It was disheartening, watching Jon recoil, so taken aback by the thought of them together. So repelled that he sobered right up.

The sting of tears made their rounds again. That idiot. The bastard. Stop crying. Jon was a coward, afraid of any accountability if something did go further than just a kiss. A vodka-laden kiss Sansa could still taste on her lips.

If I hate him, like I always have.. then why do I feel so miserable?

Truth of the matter was, it was a slice of heaven, being kissed so fiercely and touched.. like that. Sansa liked it, against her better judgement. What was she thinking? Jon was right, it could have gone badly and tossed them deeper in hot water. The situation was tough enough as it was and sex - as much as Sansa wanted it, or the idea of it, wasn't quite in the script like she had planned. Sex always complicates things, she read once in a women's magazine article. Throw in the boss and assistant cliché to the mix, Sansa can kiss goodbye to a career she had toiled for three vacation-less years.

Adding salt to the wound, it had already come at a great cost in the shape of a non-existent personal life. If it counted, Jon had been the only man she had ever been in a relationship with, her first and longest too, if she could call it that. Also, if a relationship meant spending hours and hours together reading manuscripts, taking notes and eating take outs in the office. It was pathetic. But it was the closest she could get to one. Meeting people? Hah. Love life? Sigh..nope. 

Growing up, Sansa had always been a planner, and it was a good plan she had ever since she was twelve - study hard, get good grades, work in the city, write a book, meet someone and marry. All this, before thirty. Of course, real life stepped in and slapped her in the face in the form of a boss called Jon Snow who stomped on all over that plan when the truth stared her in the face - she had spent her entire first year of work attending to the whims of a madman. For a sad moment, Sansa would forever cringe to remember, her future looked bleak.

Though, never one to give up so easily, she trudged on, love and happiness aside, towards building her career. Besides, the opportunity for love and marriage rarely reared its head. Sansa could only blame herself for that; it had always been about family, studies and work for Sansa ever since she could remember. She kept consoling herself, how there were better opportunities out there and devoted her time and energy to finding them, staying positive and upbeat no matter what. Mormont & Sons Publishing was one of those bright opportunities, and Sansa was over the moon when she received the email for an interview. 

She just had no idea what was in store for her. But Sansa often reminded herself how this was her ticket in, the launching pad for her future in writing. And every year, meant a step closer to that goal. Sansa learned all she could, observed everyone she met in the industry and played nice. It would be hers to reap one day. And how she vowed to never let it out of her grasp, how she would absolutely do all she can to get to where she wanted. One fine day.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

“I don't think they'll be back so soon, Sans. You know how it is, whenever they go out fishing,” Robb's voice leapt within earshot.

“Huh.. oh, no.. I was just-”

“What.. doing yoga?” Robb teased as he joined her on the bench.

Sansa stuck out her tongue at him. Only Robb knew where to find her, at her favourite spot, a stone bench that had the whole Winterfell lake in view.

“You and Jon.. everything okay? Want to talk about it? ”

“Oh god. Please tell me you didn't hear us,” Sansa groaned, shooting a worried glance at her brother.

“No, I didn't but I did see how fast he got out of the house. With that look of his,” Robb said, as he tried his best to mimic Jon's broody countenance.

“I hate him.”

Robb chuckled. “No you don't. Well.. I mean you guys act a little funny but I wouldn't call it hate.”

“Yeah, right. And you would be the expert,” Sansa scoffed. Trust her big brother to dish out misplaced relationship advice.

“You, my dear sister, could never hate someone. If you do, it's only because on the flip side, you feel very strongly about it. Love and hate, takes a lot of feelings.”

Feelings. Sansa wanted to laugh. What feelings? He doesn't have any.

“Yeah, well, I hate him. He's just… arghhh.”

“Does he know you hate him?”

“Well, now he does.”

“Hmm. Seems one sided to me. I don't think he hates you back, sorry to say.”

All this after just a day of meeting Jon, was impossible to fathom.

“Yeah well.. he made it pretty clear he didn't want me. Or anything to do with me,” Sansa said, quietly.

Robb raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Did he say that?”

“Well not out loud. I just.. got the vibe, I guess. Maybe he thinks I'm gross.”

“Really, Sansa? What are you, twelve? He does not think that way. Come on. Three years with someone, I think it's more than just 'vibes'.”

“What, you and Lisa don't get vibes from each other?”

Robb shrugged. “Define vibes. I can tell exactly what she's thinking just by a look. Which by the way, aren't 'vibes'. That's being in a relationship and knowing your partner.”

Well, Jon doesn't care about that.

“Yeah.. it would take a hundred years for him to even care about how I feel, let alone know just by a single look.. so pardon me, if I don't have my hopes up.”

Robb glanced at her and rested his elbows on his lap. “Maybe you don't see it. Yet.”

“See what? I don't think Jon's that type though.”

“The sensitive type? Maybe. But from the way he looks at you, I don't know but I'd say he's trying at least.”

Sansa frowned at the statement. Maybe it's a guy thing. Solidarity and shit. Or maybe the advice wasn't be so misplaced after all. So, Sansa was willing to listen.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Robb chuckled. For someone claiming to be a romantic, Sansa was clueless as they come.

“He looks at you like how Dad looks at Mom. I've seen it. Every time. And man, I hope that's how I look at Lisa, too. Hard to believe Jon doesn't care. Because, I think he does.. more than he lets on.”

The talk wasn't making any sense. What happened an hour ago was so different from what Robb claimed Jon was capable of, it was hard to believe.

“Look, I've heard a lot about him. Not so nice things and frankly, I was expecting some jerk showing up at our doorstep.. but he isn't one. Surprised me.”

“You clearly don't know him,” Sansa protested.

“True. But I know guys and he's just one of those big softies. With a hard outer shell, you know. Must be tough meeting our family, I get it,” Robb chuckled.

“Well, he didn't have a choice now did he?”

Now that the government is hot on our trail.

“No, but he did have a choice. I mean, he's a big shot editor right? Or something like that, what Dad told me. Why would he be here when he could be busy making it rain back in the city? Schmoozing with the big names and whoever's the It person of the month. But did he? No. He chose you over that, coming here to Northern country. And going fishing with Dad? Props to him. Being nice to Mom, even though we can all see how much she hates his guts? Wow. And for coming to Gramp's birthday too. If he's such an asshole like you claim he is, why make all this effort?”

Fiancé visa. It's all an act. That's why. Sansa wanted to scream, to tell Robb the actual truth. But it would ruin everything. Not to mention, implicating him as well. Best if no one knew at all.

“Listen, you always sit here when you're in a rut. Is it something so bad that you can't fix?” Robb finally asked the right question. Committing a felony. Bad enough?

“I would tell you but.. it's between me and Jon. We'll figure it out.”

Robb placed an arm around her and pulled her in for a hug as he rested his chin on her head. “Of course you will. You're Sansa freaking Stark. You always do.”

Sansa rested her head on her big brother's chest. It was warm and cozy and been a while since she had done so.

“I just wish some things were.. different.”

“We all wish for that, don't we? But this is all we've got and we just have to make the best of it, Sans. And I'm sure Jon will too. Life and lemons sort of thing. He's like this 'run-with-it' kind of guy. Which is all right. Reliable, I give him that. Besides, he doesn't seem the type.”

There it was again. The great Jon puzzle. Robb seemed to know a lot more about Jon that she thought she did.

“The type of what?”

Robb smiled at her, wondering if these two were actually a couple. “The type who doesn't take advantage. You know, so he doesn't screw up a good thing. Not many guys like that. And he'd better be if he's engaged to my sister.”

The thought hadn't crossed her mind. That, instead of thinking how she drove him away, perhaps it really was Jon trying to control himself. For once, the words 'respect' and 'Jon' were in the same sentence, as Sansa considered the alternative.

“Thanks.. Robb.” Sansa sighed as they both sat, looking out onto the lake listening quietly to the waves gently sloshing against the dock.

It was dusk when Sansa heard her brothers and father shuffle through the kitchen with the day's catch but Jon was nowhere to be seen. Avoiding, of course.

Sansa ignored the feeling and went on setting the table. It was going to be a great dinner with everyone she loved and maybe her last together before heading back to the city, the prospect of imprisonment looming heavily over her head. Whatever happens, she was going to enjoy the dinner, with or without Jon. He's on his own now.

“Hey everyone. Hi.. honey,” Sansa heard Jon greet the family and her, as soon as he made his entrance.

In usual Stark fashion, everyone, save for her mother, welcomed him back warmly, especially her father, who was now smiling ear to ear regaling the rest of how Jon helped to reel in a particularly large and stubborn trout and almost falling overboard in the process. Her father even sounded quite impressed by the whole thing. Sansa munched on her green beans quietly as Jon walked over and sat next to her.

“Sansa.. hey. I thought you'd be in your room-”

And what, wait for you? Boy, he's got a lot to learn in this house.

“Nope, was helping with dinner. You know, since it might be my last and all.. if we're going to jail.” mumbled Sansa, aiming her side eye at him with scorn.

Jon sighed and turned to his plate. It alarmed him realising how distressed he was, watching Sansa get visibly upset with him. I thought girls didn't like to pushed into that sort of thing. Jon knew nothing, absolutely zero of the female psyche.

It was unnerving and such a marked difference from the Sansa he was used to. But that was work, he had to remind himself. This.. this is not work. He'd be a fool to dismiss this as 'just work' and nothing else. It was a deal between them, he’d play his part and so would she. And in just one day, in spite of themselves, managed to turn it into something quite complicated.

Jon admitted he wasn't very skilled in the art of courtship and wooing, it had been years since he did any of it. But if it was one thing he knew about women, was that a great grand gesture would easily smoothen any rough patches in a relationship before being tended to carefully. Or so, he thought. At least he hoped that information was still relevant. And if there was still some semblance of a 'relationship' or whatever it was between them left to save. 

Regardless, he'd take the risk. Don't all heroes do, take the risk and save the day because he believes in love. Love, he smiled. What an idea. Then again, if there was anything the weekend was close to showing him, was that, for the longest time since his parents passed, Jon felt something deep inside of him slowly stirring to life, a strange magnetic pull he couldn’t ignore. It was heavy yet light as the warmth began to settle gently on his chest. 

So.. that's how it feels like.

Sansa kept to herself and mostly listened to everyone else's conversations over dinner. There was a lengthy discussion on Gramp's actual birthday party the following day and her family had decided on a list of party games for the guests to play. It was the big eight zero after all.

“Hey Sansa.. can we talk? Later after dinner?”

Sansa leaned back and sighed. If Robb was right, why was Jon taking such a long time to fix whatever it was that broke between them? As much as she wanted to share the faith Robb had in Jon, she just didn't see it. And it frustrated her to no end.

“What's there to talk about? You made it abundantly clear.”

“Well, I still haven't made my point yet but I think I know how. If only you'll let me. Please.”

Sansa was tired of thinking over and over about the 'point' Jon so desperately needed to make. She didn't care anymore and only gave a nonchalant shrug and returned to her plate, deliberately avoiding Jon's gaze.

Right.. okay then. For the first time, he felt invisible. 

“Uhh.. everyone.. I.. I have an announcement to make,” Jon slowly stood up at the table, the family quietening down as they looked on. Sansa's jaw dropped. Shit. He's going to tell everyone. How dare he? Sansa's heart almost stopped a beat. Don't do it!

“As you know.. Sansa and I, we're here to meet the family because, well..we got engaged.”

Oh my god. Jon.. don’t do it please. But Sansa didn’t make a sound.

“And what a lovely weekend it has been and such great pleasure meeting you all.”

Oh. My. God.

“And I know it's such short notice but it wouldn't feel right if I didn't take the time to do this. Especially with her family around. And.. I hope you all don't mind because I have something to say.”

Sansa wanted to scream, mortified at the thought of her family finding out the truth. But the cry froze in her throat - the horror, the embarrassment, the thought of talking to them through a glass screen. No. No, I won't let it! 

Sansa tried to breathe as normally as she could, one half of her was dangling on the edge of a full blown panic attack, while the other was stuck paralysed in a dining chair. She knew the panic attacks would come for her one day. And it did -what timing it was, on the day of her ruin in the hands of her sadist boss, before her own family. She couldn't watch nor listen and shut her eyes as she gave in, her body rigid with fear taking over almost completely. She absolutely refused to go through with it, she was guilty and there was no way she could face the angry and disappointed looks from her family, let alone the lectures. Sorry, Daddy.

That's it. We're done. Jon, you fucker!

But then.. everyone gasped. A giggle and an excited squeal had Sansa slowly opening her eyes. Her breathing was still ragged and Sansa knew she was minutes away from hyperventilating.

“Sansa?”

Sansa turned to a Jon kneeling before her and her entire family, holding up a shiny diamond and sapphire ring.

“Wha.. what?”

“I know you didn't plan for this but.. you deserve this. This is it. We're a team. You and I. I'm not going to let you go down for me, for this mess I’ve put you in. I won't let you.” Jon whispered quietly, his face softening, showing a different Jon than the one she knew.

“Will you...marry me?”

Sansa stared at the ring, in disbelief. Jon fidgeted nervously, seeing how quiet she was. Speechless. And the rapid blinking, worried him a little too. Sansa didn’t look too good as he noticed the beads of sweat rapidly dotting her forehead.

Sansa tried her best. She tried to breathe and calm herself down but nothing seemed to work. There was shouting in her head, alarms were blaring left and right. Is this a joke? Fuck! But there were no alarms - just her heart pounding so hard, Sansa couldn't hear anything else. The stares from her family waiting in silence only made it harder to breathe again. It wasn't supposed to be like this.. I’m going to prison...

Seconds passed like hours as everything around her moved in slow motion. Sansa felt her jaw slacken and her vision began to blur. The only word she could muster - was just one syllable long.

“Huh?”

Then, it all went black.