#i had this half written and sitting in my drafts for an ungodly amount of time

[godlizzza]

PLEASE more trans danbert smut…… trans dan has such a special place in my heart, I read your last fic of them constantly. Please more, anything,please

"Fuck," Dan hissed between his teeth, biting down on his knuckles. "Ah- Herbert. That's so-"

The euphoric high Dan had been riding was abruptly cut off at the knees when Herbert poked his head up from between Dan's legs and flatly said, "Dan. Could you stop talking so much? I'm trying to concentrate here."

Dan tipped his head up from where he'd been happily resting against the sheets to stare down at Herbert, who stared mulishly right back at him. With Herbert crouched down on the floor at the foot of the bed and Dan's legs hooked over his shoulders, they'd been having quite a pleasant afternoon. It was always the case when Herbert quit his constant bickering and put his mouth to good use, like he'd been doing up until this little interuption.

It took Dan a moment to process what he'd said through the cloudy soup of lust that had been fogging up his brain. When he did, he blinked a few times before irritation jabbed him in the ribs and he frowned down at Herbert.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he snapped. "Am I enjoying myself too much?"

"If you could enjoy yourself a little more quietly," Herbert muttered, "that would be greatly appreciated. This is no easy task, you know."

Dan, who had eaten plenty of pussy over the course of his life, scoffed. "Sorry, didn't mean to break your concentration."

"It's fine," Herbert replied, entirely missing Dan's sarcastic tone. His glasses were off, his bare face pleasant and pretty, like a cougar with its claws retracted. He lowered his head again, drumming his fingers against Dan's hairy thighs, and said, "Let's just keep the commentary to ourselves, shall we?"

Dan was tempted to bite back another retort but then Herbert was running his thumb along the seam of his folds and he sunk his teeth into his lower lip instead. He pushed his fingers into Herbert's hair, scraping his nails against his scalp as he felt the heat of Herbert's tongue. Dan managed to swallow the words of praise he wanted to heap on Herbert's head for the great head, but he settled for moaning at the ceiling instead.

"Mm," Dan hummed, rolling his hips against Herbert's face, seeking more of that wet, silky pleasure.

Herbert responded by swirling his tongue around Dan's t-dick, sending a tingle of pleasure bolting up Dan's spine.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, pulling one hand from Herbert's head to bite down on his knuckle.

Holding back became even more difficult when Herbert dipped lower, replacing his tongue with fingers so he could lap at Dan's dripping entrance. Dan's legs, quivering at his mounting desire, squeezed around Herbert's ears, his heels pressing into Herbert's back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. His back arched, lifting off the mattress as Herbert continued to lick and rub, working him with mouth and hand, building Dan up to a sweet crest of crackling lust.

Dan came with a breathy, "S-Shit," his grip on Herbert's hair squeezing tight as his orgasm wracked through him. Pleasure pulsed through him, the nerves between his legs throbbing with it as Herbert pulled away, gently unfurling Dan's legs from where they were wrapped around his head. Dan flopped back on the mattress as Herbert crawled onto the bed, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand. Dan couldn't find it in him to be offended, not when he was laying there, spent and panting at the roof.

"You're welcome," Herbert said as he laid down on his side next to Dan, who huffed out a laugh.

"Thank you," he said with a roll of his eyes. He turned over onto his side, raking his eyes down Herbert's body. He was dressed only in a white undershirt and his briefs, which were sporting a sizeable tent. Dan's lips curled up at the corners as he snaked a hand down Herbert's stomach to his waistband. "How 'bout letting me return the favour?"

Herbert's eyes widened a fraction, darting down to follow Dan's fingers dancing around his navel. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, before he shrugged.

"If you want to," he sniffed, glancing away.

Dan just laughed and pushed Herbert onto his back.

[qlmondmilk]

reflex

pjm x reader. last day of summer, falling for a boy with telekinetic abilities + science crack.

part 1 of ? words: 1619

note: the first part as written a year before, so this was untouched for long, sitting in my drafts and gathering cobwebs. the build-up is so long but i'm sorta writing it with the most detail so it would smoothly run in your imagination?? like a tv show hehe 

shitty title preview bc i know nothing about graphics

Jimin was pissed, to say the least.

The start of regular activity in San Fransokyo Institute of Technology was a sleep away, but no one in his university cared for a few more popsicles to consume and savor. Far too eager to start on their respective projects, almost everyone busied themselves with the sense of responsibility and the desire to create. This included Jimin's reasonable number of friends, leaving him to be the only one aching for the one day left for rest. Given that he'll celebrate the sunset alone, he declared that today would be somewhat peaceful.

Not.

Of all mornings to mess around with, Yoongi decided that Jimin would be a perfect lab rat for his seasonal crack project. Without any warning or whatsoever, Yoongi managed to wake up in the ungodly hours to set up a station and special headphones, testing if specific wavelengths and frequencies would easily influence an orgasm. On Jimin.

Jimin was happy to be greeted by a Daniel Caesar song, but not too keen on flushing red for having to cover and change his embarrassingly soaked sweats. He would've chased after Yoongi, who ran out of his room with a triumphant gummy smile after recording all of Jimin's stunned antics; but Yoongi wasn't to be fully blamed, for it was partially his doing as well, having entrusted his hyung the keys to his room. That, and for being a heavy sleeper.

If only all geniuses would dedicate their time to making good use of their aptitude, Min Yoongi wouldn’t have used ‘for the greater good of science’ as an excuse to obtain blackmail-worthy material, and Park Jimin wouldn't be hacking into Min Yoongi's database so damn early only to be hit with arbitrary urges. A generous sip of good booze could salvage his morning.

The only solution to silence the impulse was to give in, naturally — so it's 6 o' clock am and he's got his least favorite sweater on, set out for a bottle of vodka. Coming out in that dire time of the day means seeing little to no one at all, which is a relief, he wouldn’t have to encounter a crazed schoolmate eyeing him up as a potential lab rat.

This morning in San Fransokyo is quiet, save for the constant humming of the technology scattered all around. Matching the infrequent serenity, the city seems to bathe in the sun’s soft illumination, on the rare hope that when people step out, they’d appreciate its kind appearance reserved only for the last day of summer. Still, even without the harsh lighting, Jimin’s eyes remain weary, comfortable wearing them as crescents for a while.

He doesn’t notice that Yoongi’s not the only one who didn’t pay attention to the sun, and definitely not the only one who woke up extra early to work. The streets near his university were made of the asphalt with infused programming and coding tools, a special project of the seniors a few years back. Anyone was free to reach down, do their magic, and have their work plastered on the ground for 24 hours. Every midnight it reverts back to an empty canvas, so the serious programmers wouldn’t dare leave their code vulnerable to the public and have all versions of it gone by the next day.

The cobbled code path Jimin’s walking on turns out to be coded on already, resounding with his quick footsteps, imploring for him to look down and take note that he’s stepping on someone’s unfinished code art, and shit, his steps were precise accidents, but it looks like sabotage. But he doesn’t look down, and what used to be half a butterfly is now a muddled creature with its forewing absolutely wrecked, compound eye gone, antenna sticking out way too long - only the proboscis is intact.

Blessed are his feet, truly.

Damn Jeon Jungkook. Jimin is ill-equipped to be buying alcohol. 

Not that Jimin looked like a kid and he'd need verification to drown himself in liquor, no. The Christmas sweater that Jungkook gave wasn't enough to shelter Jimin from the coldness of the store and the icy stares from middle-aged ladies that were there for marked-down items. They didn't wake up early to see an abominable sweater being worn by a resting-bitch faced kid that looked like he'd lived through a thousand lifetimes.

Giving an ugly sweater is one thing, but to give a sweater with a gingerbread man flexing his icing abs is on an entirely different league.

Even the store is on a different league. It's close-set, aiming to provide as much as it could with the little area it has. What its span lack, the height of its shelves surely make up for it, reaching up to 7 rows. Not tall enough to be touching the ceiling, but it definitely towers over Jimin. So he sucks it up, cold, height difference, and all.  

Height is an issue, yet the store's strategy in product location is ludicrous. Who in the right mind would allow such a thing? Jimin thought San Fransokyo was a progressive city, however, precious liquor settled in the same aisle as laundry detergent says otherwise. Most importantly, Jimin's favorite brand of liquor sits at the sixth row, just a little bit beyond his reach when he jumps. The only staff present are the saleslady that could challenge Jimin's resting bitch face, the two cashiers from his university looking dead before the semester even started, and that one janitor being reprimanded by one of the early-comer middle-aged ladies for placing a wet-floor sign near the 35% off fish fillet.  

This aisle is more than a minefield.

There are two ways to complete his task. One is to arduously climb the shelf, grab a bottle or two, climb down, then go in peace. Two is to grab it in his mind and the bottle will come floating down to him, no climbing involved. Telekinesis worked like that, right? But his presumably telekinetic abilities (powers, whatever) came to him out of nowhere, and it could betray him for no reason. The shelf isn't made for occasional customer climbing. Both options are dangerous, and there are other variables to consider. The janitor reprimanding lady could happen to pass by the aisle to get to the rack of 50% off wet wipes and see Jimin - may the convenience store gods forbid it.   

He tries to will the bottle to descend from the shelf. He imagines a path and directs it to his open hand, but to no avail, from any onlooker he appears to be forcing to shit himself. 

He tries again. The entire shelf of laundry detergent and the whole sixth row of bottles float for a while and he panics. The detergents somehow spill themselves and join in the 'make Jimin panic more' party. All but the bottle that he wanted stops floating and blesses the store's floor by simultaneously breaking, along with Jimin's heart at the thought that he had to explain the mess. What would he even say? 'Sorry, I didn't want to disturb your staff to get the item I wanted so I took it upon myself to miraculously break all the bottles on the sixth shelf? Don't worry, I may have student loans to pay but I'm sure I'll compensate for this mess eventually!'  

Even worse, he would have to choose whether to take the second semester and survive with cup noodles or work full-time as Yoongi's lab rat. He still has a shred of dignity to keep, no thanks, Yoongi.

He already broke things anyway, so it's all or nothing. Better come home with a bottle than none at all. Jimin resorts to first original option, because climbing is obviously way more safer than 'grabbing the bottle with his mind.'

So he climbs. Bingo. Should've done that the first time.

It's not a big store, so the small amount of staff and patrons they had heard the crash and are silently watching Jimin elegantly climb down the shelf, avoid bits of glass on the floor, and tiptoe on the sea of unicorn vomit. On one end of the aisle, the saleslady seemed heartbroken for the janitor, who didn't spare a second look at whatever calamity swept through. He had already turned on his heels, heading for his mop and bucket. The fish fillet lady looked absolutely furious. Not good.

Jimin is stuck a very delicate place.

He continues to tiptoe on the unholy offspring of fabric conditioner and booze until—

"Oh hey dude, what ha—?" One of the cashiers suddenly appears sat the other end of the aisle with a concerned look on his face, which iss oddly familiar to Jimin. Could he be one of Taehyung's past flings? Or that dude that Hoseok drunkenly kissed one time. Probably both. 

Regardless of the cashier's identity, Jimin runs away.

Of course he fucking slips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck." His palms and knees took most of the impact and earned scratches. Still all or nothing, he continues to run even though his limbs disagree with the spontaneous plan to exert energy, wobbling with the guilt and panic of evading responsibility.

"Sorry man, not my fault!" Jimin shouts. Immediately spotting a rack full of Hello Kitty bandages, he grabs a handful and speeds across the store as fast as his unwilling limbs could take it.   

A Jollibee statue is waiting for him at the exit, so with Jimin's last functioning brain cell he throws two 20 dollar bills somewhere and makes it out of the store, turning Jollibee into a casualty by knocking him down at the exact moment Jimin's legs give up.

"—ppened here?" the cashier says to Jollibee's decapitated body.

[purplefictionmom]

I'd normally be like "ALL THE QUESTIONS" but I'm really interested in 7 and 15 (but like if you wanted to do them all then hell yeah pls do)

You know what, Imma answer them all, cause I love you darling~

All answers under the cut, cause I’m sure I'll get long winded, as usual haha

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?I mean, there was a story that I had been sitting on for...10 years, I think? I just didn’t know how I wanted to tell the story. It started as a mockumentary type of thing, then when that didn’t fit the narrative style I wanted to tell, I moved to a classic modern fantasy style, but that didn’t pan out either.

Then, the game called “What Remains of Edith Finch” came out and it hit me so hard that I nearly passed out: that is the perfect narrative style for the book idea I’ve been sitting on!!

Incidentally, if you haven’t played/watched someone play it, “What remains of Edith Finch” is an excellent game and Jacksepticeye does a wonderful let’s play of it :D

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?Not as much anymore, but I used to hate bringing up “...And the Things That Followed.” Just for a short what-for: ATTTF is a Left4Dead/2 fanfiction, reader-insert that started as a sort of experiment: I perused lunaescence and picked a fandom that I was familiar with, but that didn’t have a lot of fanfiction to choose from. I mostly wanted to see if smaller fandoms stay active, even with very little content to choose from. And boy, did I get my answer.

The biggest reason that I ended up embarrassed over it was because I hadn’t intended it to be a romance fic (I mean...the two main characters are the reader and a Hunter, and what with necrophilia being really gross and all...), but I had readers out and out demand for it, to the point of going on strike from reading my fanfic. This was years ago, mind you, so I caved like a wet noodle and now hate that particular fanfic, to the point where I don’t even want to write the two sequels that I already had planned and half-written.

So, it started out as embarrassment, now its more I wish I could just delete it and forget it exists, but I’m one of those authors who has a really hard time deleting anything, even things I hate haha.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?For the very first, ultimate scene I picture in each fic/story/novel, it could really end up anywhere in the final version.

After that first initial scene I see, I try to start as far back as I think I can get away with and move forward from there, so I guess the short answer is I write from beginning to end, no matter how it ends up being at the end, haha.

4) favorite character you’ve writtenI guess this is supposed to not include characters I don’t own, but that’s no fun so here you go:

OC: A supernatural Hunter named Silva and another hunter (who I have an rp blog for) named Theodora ‘Timmie’ Wilson

Non-OC: Writing Yusuke from YYH and Asgore from UT

5) character you were most surprised to end up writingI’m not quite sure what this question means, so I’ll just take a stab and guess it’s talking about how a character can end up differently on paper than how you first envisioned them in your head.

And that award goes to Silva. I expected her to be a hard, cold killer, but she had so much inner turmoil and hidden thoughts that she was definitely the hardest character to write until I actually started to understand her.

Which took an ungodly amount of time, tbh haha.

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change nowProbably how often I use the double-hyphen. Its meant to be an alternative to using commas (which, I use to many as it is anyway haha), but now they litter my writing like popcorn on the floor at a midnight release, haha.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?Honestly? A little of both.

I’m someone who sees fanfiction (and any fanwork at all, tbh) as legitimate art forms, but there are so many who not only don’t agree, but they belittle and question those who participate in fandoms.

There are days I have all my shit together and I’m ready to defend my fanfiction to the death, along with all my original content; I have my sources, I have examples, so on and so forth, but other days...

Well, let’s just say there are days I don’t even volunteer that information to people willingly haha.

8) favorite genre to writeOther than fanfiction, I love horror, fantasy, and scifi the best, though there are plenty of times it feels like I’m hardly writing for any of those genres at all, haha.

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?Fanfiction, most of the time, but I also listen to songs on the radio, discuss ideas with friends/family (my step-dad was the only person when I was growing up who nurtured my love for telling stories and many of my ideas for novels came from talking with him over the years), or I also like to free-write.

At least, I think its called free-writing haha. I basically just put my pen on paper and just talk to the page with my pen. Sometimes, its just a rant, but more often then not, I’ll find a story or character hidden there.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?All of the above, haha. In the perfect atmosphere, music is playing in the background, and I’m completely alone with no distractions, but since that’s not reality, I’ve sort of forced myself to adapt to what I can.

My computer (where I do 90% of my writing) is in the living room of my house, so my hubby is usually around, and if he’s playing overwatch, then its usually a few voices playing in the background.

If it gets to be too distracting, I just put headphones in, but I also write in notebooks and I take those everywhere, so for that, I just write when/what I can as I go along.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?Definitely dialogue, but also my prose. Honestly, all of it, haha. I look back at stuff I wrote years ago and I wonder how anybody thought I was any good, haha.

12) your weaknesses as an authorIf I had to pick one, its probably that I tend to either over-explain, or under-explain. There is no in-between, haha. My first drafts are often a mess of me focusing in on the details of one room and then not describing a setting for two chapters or more.

13) your strengths as an authorProbably my ability to logically follow order of events, even though I don’t plot, like, at all. This also makes it easy to see where I can divert from what’s expected and explore different avenues.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?Not really? I tend to either put my whole library on shuffle, or I have a dedicated writing playlist that’s full of background music from video games and other things like that.

15) why did you start writing?It started as an outlet.

When I was about 10, my dad came home from work one day while my mom was still at work and while I watched, packed all his stuff into his car, called my mother and told her that if she didn’t get off work soon I’d be home alone, and then left.

I was in a complete and total depression from around then until well into my late teens (I have a little depression now, and a slew of other problems, but now for diff reasons). On top of my dad leaving, my mother, step-father and I all moved to a completely new state, where I started to bomb academically and had literally no friends until almost a year later.

It started out as angsty pre-teen poetry (a lot of which actually still pretty good, even as I go back to read it), then it spilled into fanfiction and fandoms, and around the age of 13--once my step-dad found my love of writing and wanted to pull me away from fanfiction--I finally started writing original ideas out.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?Silva, and a few others. Not so much because their stories are left untold, but moreso because of the way they helped shape me as a writer and the things I was interested in writing about.

The debate about whether or not a writer should write about a certain subject usually stems from readers, but I tend to lean toward the argument from a writer’s point of view: there are subjects that I broached as a teenager that I needed to explore in order to be who I am today, as a person and as a writer. Not to say I have something horrible in my writer’s past that I wouldn’t be able to share, but more that it might be questionable about the age that I delved into those topics. (and no, I don’t mean just smut, though that is included in what I’m talking about)

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?Stop wasting your time trying to please family members with what you write. Most of them are going to ignore the whole of your writing and focus in on the one swear word you threw in for characterization anyway.

Write what makes you happy; whether or not its publishable isn’t the point. You’re just starting out and you need to write; to get better, to learn the ropes, so just go WRITE!

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?Oh geez...at the beginning, everything I read affected my writing style. Fanfiction, published novels, everything.

Probably my biggest influencers would be “The Green Mile” by Stephen King, “The Hobbit” by JRR Tolkien, “This Present Darkness” By Frank Peretti.

And while these are hugely different authors with different writing styles, they more influenced me in my way of thinking. Of expanding my imagination of what could be if I just had the courage to write it.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?I either have a notebook filled with notes about characters/information, or I use a website called Hiveword(dot)com. It’s a novel tracking website that also advertises its program (which you have to pay for), but the website itself is free and you can store all the information about your book, characters, timeline, etc.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?Both, but I get more done with longer sessions. I know that seems like a no-brainer, but its more because of how I prep myself for my writing time:

I have to have a glass of water or cup of coffee, I have to have my music playing (which, with spotify could take a few minutes to load), I have to re-read the last page or so of what was previously written so I can get back into the feel of it, then I can actually sit down and write.

the little spurts end up being in my notebooks and they’re a mess, honestly, haha.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?I used to cringe and close it immediately, but I’ve been trying to analyze and see the biggest differences in my writings from a then and now standpoint. Sometimes its really hard, if its particularly bad or whatev, but its been a real confidence booster when I can see where I was and where I am now.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?Not uncomfortable, per se, but I tend to try and think of things from a reader’s perspective at the same time I write, so there are times when I get a little too involved in what’s happening on the page, haha.

HIAPOTS was a terror to write at some points because of this.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?All of it, if I’m being honest, but obscure things specifically? Hmm...

I mean, probably the fact that I give all my pets personalities and conversations between each other? I do it without thinking, but there are times where I’ll find myself using lines or situations from this weird little thing in my actual writings, haha.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?OMG SO MUCH. Like, idk about ‘expert’, but I have so much useless trivia in my head because of being an author. Talk with me for an hour and see if I don’t throw ‘fun facts’ into the mix of our conversations haha.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud ofOh ugh...umm...let me to look...

From a currently unpublished reader/sans fic I’m writing:You understand, don’t you, Sans? 

Sure, Sans understood. Sans always understood. He was the one who didn’t make waves, or overturn boats--you could always count on Sans to be the reassuring nod when you felt lost or the understanding ex who’s perfectly okay with just letting things die, even though the ending came as the greatest punchline ever written in history:

He hadn’t even seen it coming.

(I love delving into characters’ heads, and i love it more when i can do it well enough to feel comfortable with letting other people read it, haha)

From Part 6 of my Garrus/Reader serial fic:“They were my cases,” Garrus admitted, his eyes finally leaving Castis’s in favor of looking at the floor, “And I can’t watch it happen again.”

If Castis didn’t have such a steely reign on his composure now, Garrus might have been clued into his father’s line of thought. As it was, Castis was being forced to realize that he had been wrong in his assessments of his son.The older turian had always thought Garrus shirked the rules and regulations as a form of rebellion, since Castis stepped in and forced him to quit training for the spectres--as if to prove he didn’t care about what his father cared about. Now, Castis realized the reason Garrus pushed them aside so easily was because he did care, maybe too much.

(Honestly, the whole argument between Castis and Garrus in this part of the fic is something I’m proud of)