#probably not gonna write it but i guess i can daydream about it at least

[just-a-little-unionoid]

currently realising with horror that if I want any fanfiction of the French Zorro TV adaptation to exist I will have to write it myself...

[fire-lizard-ro]

Bottom Dragon Dan Heng

Bet you didn't expect THIS, huh?

I feel like there's barely been HSR smut recently, so I did it myself. >:D))

CW: DP (technically in two holes- you'll see-), top reader, bottom character, non-human anatomy (for my dear Dan Heng), knots (Dan Heng's), fucking a hole you probably didn't expect me to say you're fucking, belly bulge and a tiiiiiny bit of cumflation~ <333 (like it's only a little bit of a bulge left over), mention of crying, hair/horn pulling, usage of the word "slut" exactly once, only a tiny mention of dirty talk (I'm now realizing I don't really do dialogue in these...)

GN reader.

Cock is interchangabe with strap and I mentioned that... And I say cum for the reader, but also mention that it can be fake cum for a strap.

You know I REALLY tried holding off so I could finish making myself write down all my Aeon stuff, but dragon Dan Heng is still very much so stuck in my mind.

So whoopsie here's yet another ramble session from Roro about nefarious things I think about this scaly bitch (affectionate).

So uh- This is written as x reader(s) because ye, but when I was having whore-knee thoughts it was more like I thought it up in a daydream of me somehow scoring Dan Heng, Blade, and Jing Yuan and watching those three have at it. hA-

A n y w a y s -

One of the only times I write top reader(s), lmfao. Since I prefer bottom reader content, but top reader is also smeggsy sometimes.

NSFW:

Okay so for this, you're gonna have to be two people sometimes, I guess foijeo- Maybe you and your bestie like sharing or something.

But like.... bottom dragon Dan Heng who gets fucked in the ass and has a cock/strap in his internal cock sheath thing. I mean- It is a slit... That just so happens to have two cocks in it... Just slide on in and make it three. This could also be only you fucking him this way while shoving a dildo/plug in his ass. But something about the idea of watching him get stretched out on two cocks that had been fucking him is hot.

Watch the way his belly bulges out from your thick cock and listen to how he sobs from the stretch he feels in both of his holes. Dan Heng would likely never admit it, but he loves it when you fuck his sheath- When you put yourself in the hole he had never considered before. It's already slick on the inside naturally to keep his cocks from chafing. And it's so tight from there being two cocks in there.

He was hesitant when you first brought it up, not having thought about it before and worrying that it would hurt or just not work out- After all, this was not a hole that was supposed to be fucked. But he was ultimately curious, as it is in his nature. At least I think. After all, he does manage the archives and seems to know a lot about various subjects.

But once he tries it? Fuck there's no going back from there. He was used to you shoving your tongue in there or even gliding fingers through the slick of his internal sheath and feeling around his cocks while they were inside... But this was a whole different ball game. His tail would be thumping against the bed while you gently finger the slit of his sheath's opening. One, two... then three and even four fingers. Just in case. You don't wanna hurt your pretty boy, after all. :((

Then you slick up the shaft of your dick/strap and ever-so-gently press the head inside along his two cocks that had popped out while you were fingering him. There's a gasp as he feels it stretch him out inside and he's panting while trying to get used to the new feeling.

But once he's adjusted and you've picked up the pace? He's letting out the prettiest choked out moans while you fold his legs up to his chest and fuck him hard, your hips slapping against his ass with every forward stroke. And he's likely whimper if you lean forward to mouth at those cute nipples of his. They look so lonely and nibble-able, you know? :((

(I am of the belief that EVERYONE deserves to have their nipples sucked. <333)

The way his tail twitches and spasms and even thrashes around from not being able to control it while he's getting fucked like a good, perfect slut- And then the way it wraps around your waist like he's trying to ground himself- Or maybe he's pulling you closer? Trying to get you deeper? God- Please tug on his tail, too. I'm not sure how well fucking his sheath from behind would work because of possible positioning of said sheath, but if you do? Please yank this man's tail to pull him back into your thrusts while you pin him down with a hand on the back of his head to shove him into the pillows. Better yet- Grip his hair, too, while you're at it. Or his horns/one of his horns. Use his horns to pull him into your hips as you make heavy thrusts into him.

And oh lord- When he cums? His knots and cocks swell which makes everything tighter and he's crying and writhing beneath you while calling out your name and pushing at your stomach because it's just too much- There's cum all over your belly and his and he looks so fucked out and his legs are shaking and his hips are jumping in little aborted thrusts to grind your cock inside him just a little more while he rides out his orgasm.

For my cock havers and my strap users (specifically those straps that you can use a pump with to pump stuff into your partner-):

I hope you can see my vision when I say he looks so pretty with cum squirting out of not only his dicks, but out of his shealth. The way his belly has a little bulge left over from how much you fucked into him- The way it squelches out from his slit, between his flagging cocks as they retreat into his internal pouch and more cum gushes out- And how he whimpers and whines and tears leak from his pretty eyes and he squirms while you push on his belly to force the cum out of his stuffed sheath.

It's just so pretty. :((

He's just so pretty. :((

Once again: I prefer top character and bottom reader stuff, but... Sometimes.... Ahaha- (If I were in that JingRenHeng poly relationship that I mentioned I was thinking of when I imagined this up, I'd love to watch those two do this to him... [screams])

I might have missed something/a few things because my mind was going wayyyyy faster than I can type (though I can type pretty fast...). So if I did and I remember later, I will put in an edit and post something to let people know it was added to.

I shall now go fucking die myself because who knew I'd be writing this and putting it where people can see it ahahahahfiosejg-

OH OH OH P.S. PLEASE TALK DIRTY TO HIM AND NIBBLE THOSE CUTE EARS OF HIS HE'LL GET SO RED THIS IS CANON TO ME.

[theflyingfeeling]

What do you think the guys are gonna do during the break?

I don't really have any new insights that are different from what others have already been talking about, but thanks for asking!! I'll also add my sophisticated opinions on what I personally hope they'll do (in my delusional daydreams)

Joel - what I think he'll do: probably radio, cringy tiktoks and 2-3 more covers and trying not to lose his mind (same girl same) - what I hope he'll do: take a (proper) social media break, go somewhere warm and sunny, maybe tan a bit, BE HAPPY 😭 and ooooh maybe some modelling 👀

Joonas - what I think he'll do: he talked about maybe doing a podcast at some point so I guess that's gonna be his solo project - what I hope he'll do: something fashion-related maybe? and if he'll indeed do the podcast, I'll hope he'll host all his bandmates as guests and give us crumbs 🥺

Niko - what I think he'll do: I suppose he'll work on his other creative projects (writing) while also focusing on music, perhaps via Minna's career more than his own stuff, but probably for his own amusement as well + record label stuff - what I hope he'll do: idk man, I just hope he gets to live as a hermit for as long as he needs to because apparently that's what he really wants! and maybe they get another cat to play with Rommi 🥰

Aleksi - what I think he'll do: music production and spending looooooooooooooooooooooooots of time in his studio doing whatever (and fighting the urge to make social media posts whenever he's bored so maybe he just texts Olli instead) + record label stuff. I doubt he'll do any solo gigs as Alex Mattson, but if he does, you can bet me and my girlies will be there 😌 - what I hope he'll do: bring back the twitch streams (not gonna happen), take up any (LITERALLY ANY) joint project with Olli and be all boyfriends in denial love about it pls pls pls I need thiiiisss otherwise I don't think I'll make it alive 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Olli: - what I think he'll do: graphic design seems to be the general consensus and this headcanon is actually suppported by recent events so I'ma go with that one - what I hope he'll do: see above what I wrote for Aleksi, also literally anything where we get to see his pretty face for at least once in a blue moon, but I'm not gonna hold my breath for that happening 😔 I'm also dyinnngggg for him to get somehow involved in Scary Noise Records, at least with his graphic design skills if nothing else, come on pleeeeaaaaasssseeeeee I don't want him to disappear completely 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 another entirely delusional daydream is for him (and Aleksi, because can these two idiots do anything without each other?) to launch their own clothesline (since Olli is the merch guy and Aleksi also had his own Alex Mattson clothesline back in the day)

Tommi: - what I think he'll do: actually just two nights ago I had a dream in which Tommi told everyone he'd gotten a job *somewhere*, I can't for the life of me remember where but it was a very ordinary job and he was so pleased with it, so yeah, I guess he's just gonna keep on having "a real job" 😂 - what I hope he'll do: something completely obscure no one could predict, like starting a husky farm or something lol

[kosmicdream]

How do you come up with ideas for your comics? And have you ever had to kill your darlings?

Usually when I end up with an idea for a story for a comic its because I can’t stop thinking about the ideas, which could really come from anywhere but usually involve my dreams in some way. A feeling, a moment, an experience, something i met, ect.. I enjoy how much dreams have the real and the unreal mixed in them, as dreaming is a real experience about something that isn't happening. It gives a lot of material to work with. Then, the habit is that i cant stop working on/thinking about the ideas that they end up becoming a project that I draw. It isn’t like the only way but that’s a pretty frequent path. I actually don’t come up with “new stories” too often that actually stick enough to get to a level where it feels like something I can work with. I’d say it happens once every couple of years there’s something too interesting to ignore. I actually try my best NOT to think of new stories or characters as I have a lot I’m working on already. It still happens regardless. but i sorta think that me trying not to ends up filtering out the weaker ideas so that only the strongest ones remain or whatever.

As for the kill your darlings thing.. I guess I’ve never super jelled with that concept even if I respect it as a pretty solid writing rule. I see that it makes sense and is very valuable. I just can’t say that I’ve really ever felt like I’ve truly gone against my own wishes? LOL ... That probably in the end makes me a weaker author, or maybe even stagnates my growth as one, but like. I write and make my stories out of personal pleasure and desire to seek that out.. I’m less interested in being the best author ever vrs making the story how I personally imagine it and think about when I go to bed at night, daydreaming about future scenes to draw. That doesn’t mean I don’t like kill my characters tho. I do that. But I’m not really a “cut things out if I love them a lot/are attached to them to make the story better” kinda author, at least not currently. I think this is why i get called very "self indulgent" but i also am like what would be the point of giving the audience the version of the story IM not actually thinking about. Id rather share as much of the version I feel is real, at least real to me. I also don't really change certain things in a story up until a certain point. If that's how Ive decided something goes, its how Its gonna go regardless. doesn't mean things dont change along the way, often times drastically, but there's often some core things that don't change because I am "married" to them as something that feels.. idk.. essential to being part of the experience, even if I come up with better "ideas" along the way. that's just some of my philosophy on things i guess though. Its more personal instinct than reason TBH

[likeadevils]

Bejeweled confuses me. I don't know if it's a break up song, a bragging song, a I Did Something Bad like song or something else?

so like, obviously it can be about whatever you want, but if you’re asking what i think taylor was writing it about. um.

okay so. so bejeweled is one of those songs were what you think qualifies as cheating, and what you think taylor qualifies as cheating, and how close to that line you think taylor would walk becomes relevant. i’m not gonna imply taylor like. like she’s not paul mccartney she didn’t have sex with someone else where she knew joe would catch her because she got cold feet about getting married. but if you aren’t comfortable with the idea that not even the thought of flirting with another man in order to reaffirm her agency would cross her mind, then like. i guess then my answer is global superstar taylor swift wrote it about my relationship with my middle school best friend, who is the only person on earth who was born evil

the way i see it bejeweled is about�� well, a lot of little situations probably, but mostly about two different points in her life. there’s spring 2016 in general and the early morning hours of april 29th in specific, and then there’s winter 2021. and on some level all of midnights is about winter 2021, both because that’s when she wrote it and also. like. clearly the agonizing over marriage and fame on midnight rain didn’t come out of nowhere, you know? but i think bejeweled is very much so about the two simultaneously

a fun fact about bejeweled is taylor was wearing this dress the night of april 28, 2016

another fun fact about bejeweled is it was probably written, at most, a month before you’re losing me. maybe a couple weeks afterwards. maybe the same week. we just don’t know, aside from them being written around the same time

and with that context two lines jump out

best believe i’m still bejeweled: now, obviously, this is first and foremost about being metaphorically bejeweled. but if we want to take it to a more literal level, this can apply to both timeframes. in one, it’s “i’m still bejeweled, i’m wearing a bejeweled dress”, in the other it’s “i’m still bejeweled, think about the place where you first met me”

and when i meet the band, they ask ‘do you have a man?’ i could still say ‘i don’t remember’: this immediately reminded me off “he’s in the club doing i don’t know what” and again, it can either be about that first situation, or it can be a reminder that she could, yknow, write him out the way she wrote him in

now, do i think anything serious happened? no. do i think she at least had the possibility, the daydream, the late night revenge fantasy, on her mind? i mean like. wouldn’t you?

[iid-smile]

HIII SUNNY HOW R UUUU 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️ curiosity killed the cat so pls answer my qs ^.^

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? ( PLEASE TELL ME ITS THE SONF IID SMILE )

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

FAY !!! 🫂🫂🫂 this is literally like so perfect prepare for some yap 🤭 (foreshadowing how im gonna have to put a cut) (future sunny here yes i did put a cut yes i did talk a lot)

🕯️ — what editing are we referring to here? 🤔 if its writing editing i'll give it like a 6/10 because i skip over entire paragraphs to avoid cringing 😣 + my spelling is so bad its embarrassing. but like video editing? 1/10. i have suffered one too many times trying to figure out capcut and other apps like that.. i struggled for like an hour trying to put audio over a STILL IMAGE. wasnt a fun time......

🍄 — wowowowow theres so many to choose from um... ill go with hiori and rin because why not??? (i physically couldn't think of another one) i feel like rin is an absolute grandpa when it comes to all sorts of games (board games included, this guy doesnt know a thing about chess) and hiori would be so patient teaching him all of the right moves 💔 rin doesnt get any better but he puts in the effort. he probably has tried moving a pawn over half way across the board on the first move

🦷 — it's really not worth trying to peak in high school... big friend groups dont usually last after everyone separates so its better to keep in contact with those you trust the most. being popular or going to parties all the time really does nothing in life unless you build up those memories. trust me ive picked up some bad habits that ive only come clean from recently and ive found some much better friends (moots included 😘) even at my old age 😁 ok im only twenty but like little me wouldve never guessed i would be able to still make friends

🌿 — i actually dont have any... im a pro at procrastinating and random sparks of inspo so i just write whenever 😋 thats why series dont usually last for me because i have to continuously build on and write the same plot or idea over long periods of time. ig if you have a good idea, write it somewhere asap so you dont miss any key details or forget what it was completely (we lost cupid!rin over this). as for inspo i lovveeeee daydreaming and im literally just itching to be in a cutesy relationship so usually my works are based on that. i just think "what would this character do?" and a lil scenario pops up and i just roll with it? idek 😭

🍦 — No. jk we'll do it on mahito because i have a love hate relationship with him. first of all hes written like a true villain and seeing how everyone hate on him just means that he's done his job effectively 🙂‍↕️ chat hes kinda cute im not even gonna lie... in the few scenes where he actually looks pretty hes actually so fine?? WHO KEES MAKING HIM CROSS EYED AND GIVING HIM DORITOS FOR A NOSE? at least the fan art does him so much justice... I PROMISE U NOW if mahito wasnt given so many ugly scenes literally everybody would love him like sukuna. i stand by that.

🍅 — gosh my description needs a lot of work 😭 i dont understand how people can make their writing so abstract and creative while im stuck here using the basics. and some words and phrases that ive made up myself and are trademark mine if u get what i mean?? like you could read it and say "oh, sunny probably wrote this". and maybe expanding on emotions more to engage with the reader.

☁️ — YES IT IS BASED ON IDSMILE!! literally love that song sm!!! somewhere out there i believe i posted a video of me singing it when it first came out but it got like no views so i deleted it 🙄 my digital footprint is crazy

🧩 — overwhelmingly huge paragraphs are always a struggle for me. im very guilty for this rn but i have an excuse because this is just answering questions 😎 or even like not separating the speech and adding a space when different characters are talking because i just cant read it! like ive seen a fic that was literally a huge block of text throughout the entire thing (which was like 600 words) and i was just like "damn..." there was no way i was going to read without skipping over lines or getting them mixed up.

[bunny-hoodlum]

For the ask game! 3. Are there any specific themes you enjoy exploring in your fics? 10. What's your favorite part about the fic writing process? 29. Are there any characters, relationships, or general character dynamics you've never written about but would like to try?

Heyyy! Thank you for the ask @wickermayne! I pushed this answer back because I felt like I needed more time to think about my answers. 😅 Which, I didn't exactly do either tbh. 👉👈😓 I lowkey hated I didn't have anything controversial that I could 'get arrested for' if I wrote it or that my readers would hate, that actually bothered me so much, like how boring am I? 😂😂😂

[Yet Another] 'Questions for Fic Writers'

Are there any specific themes you enjoy exploring in your fics?

Yes, I love these kind of vibes in Seinen manga and character drama movies, and maybe some of my own existential feels is worked in there, too. Self-sabotage, alienation, regret, and loss of time/chances, oh and things you want but can't have, I suppose. On the fun side of things, I like to explore taboo as a whole. I can't quite describe the cocktail of inner conflict that I makes a fic sing for me when I write it, but Asynchronous With You has it and I think most of my fics do too, but AWY is the easiest to explain. Hinata wants to be with Naruto romantically or for the rest of her life but she can't have both, unless something changes. Naruto wants to be with Hinata for the rest of his life but not romantically (as far as he knows). Both want the same thing but for different reasons and if they're honest with each other, they might lose each other forever. It's stuff like that I loooooove. I feel like my DILF fic has it to some extent as well, like, even if Naruto sleeps with jailbait!Hinata, he can separate the sex from his stronger desire to be a parent, so intent and actions are going to be at odds at all times until something changes, and Hinata is going to be attaching herself to this rollercoaster whether she regrets it or not, because it's either pain or nothing at all. And, at least the pain can bring her some excitement in her life. I guess whenever I get to my Idle Hands rewrite, this theme is gonna play out similarly with Hinata too, that the pain Naruto and Sasuke put her through at least is interesting. 😅

What's you favorite part of the fic writing process?

The writing itself, but the annoying thing is I need be totally relaxed, not sleepy in the slightest, words actually make sense in my head and I'm totally immersed in the work. Then it's like I'm experiencing it live as it's happening. I wish headspace was more accessible, like sometimes editing can take me there because the thing exists and I'm refining it. But what I mean is, if I could just write bad to begin with or let myself and then clean it up, clean it up, clean it up once last time, that'd be great. I could be more methodical instead of waiting to get possessed by brain chemicals or some touch of inspo from another dimension. 😅

Are there any characters, relationships, or general character dynamics you've never written about but would like to try?

Very, very casually, I think, yes? I told you about IruHina, but it's gonna be one of those things that I need to have totally solid interest in so that way I don't care if it's such a rarepair that nobody is interested in it, that I still write it anyways. 😂 Right now, I'm trying to write NaruKurostuchi but for the DILF fic, not sure if that counts, but I am trying to flesh it out, so I'm trying to explore it in good faith for the sake of the story. I might need to build up his backstory at some point here, figure out who his other exes are. 🤭 As for general character dynamics... Enemies to Lovers is probably the one thing I've never touched, be it in fiction, fanfiction or in my own daydreams. 🤔 Which might seem ironic, considering the amount of hate sex-adjacent fics I've pumped out recently. 😂 But I would like to try, of course I need a story for this that catches my interest. 😅 Other character dynamics, think those would be the other age gap WIPs I haven't gotten around to yet. Can't think of anything else. 🤔

[warcats-cat]

human interaction!!

what's your favorite thing to write? what's your favorite part of the writing process? your least favorite?

what other fandoms, besides the ones you've written, would you want to write for in the future? If you were forced to write something about a fandom you knew very little about (let's say you get a summary of the plot and characters, plus whatever you might've absorbed via fandom posts from your mutuals), what fandom do you think you'd have the most luck with and why?

if you create OCs, what's your favorite OC that you've created? have you created any villain OCs? do you prefer Gen fics or romantic fics (both to read and to write)? who's your favorite comfort character? who's a character that probably shouldn't be comforting, but is anyway? who's a character that other people seem to love, but you just don't get the hype?

I hope this helps a little!! I'm always down to chat and trade asks!

20 questions 🤣🤣🤣 ok:

1) my favorite thing to write is also my favorite thing to read! Hurt/Comfort!!!!!

2) Most favorite part - Daydreaming about the characters/storyline while pretending to be mentally present at work!

3) Least favorite part - Making the words go 😢

4) I usually write what I know best at any moment - I've been eyeing some of the art/fic in the FNAF fandom lately but just kinda dipping my hands in, not really ready to dive in. I just love my Sanders Boys, ya know?

5) I think I could BS something from one of the classic animes, like Death Note or Naruto. I did watch Ouran Highschool Host Club and a few other sillier animes but my fandom experiences with those ended at looking at fanart. ((Wait, can Pokemon count? Can I do Pokemon? I know some Pokemon 👀👀👀))

6) my OC's are my DND characters and by far my favorite is Ink of Dreams, my cat-person thief 😍😍. Also Thistle, who isn't really an OC so much as my OC's pet 😅😅😅 If anything I guess HE would be my "favorite" because I talk about him all the time and he's in three dnd campaigns and I had a plushie made and I'm trying to have a movable puppet made...

7) RN I have a villain OC for a WIP I'm working on (read: poking with a stick like a dead animal) and I do enjoy writing her very much. She is an agent of chaos and I hate her so much, it's great 💜 I don't have a lot of experience doing the just straight up ridiculously depraved, but writing her is also giving me practice for writing future LRH adjacent fics involving Gabriel 👀👀👀

8) uuuuhhhhhh I like cuddles 😅😅😅😅 I'm fine with both, just not big on smut. I think I'm a little bit romantically starved tbh because sometimes I pull up a comfort fic that I know is gonna make me cry because I just kinda *need* to cry if that makes sense? I'm asexual and finding a romantic partner is hard 🥲 But anyway yeah I'm fine with both! RN I'm on a baby fic kick so send me babies 💜💜

9) My current comfort character is Patton from Sanders Sides, and no one is surprised. 😅 I just vibe with him a lot because in also a very emotionally-open and emotionally-invested person, I tend to be a caretaker and I like to be prepared in case someone around me needs help. And RN with fandom drama especially, I just feel connected with Patton. I also experienced a period of my life where I tried to help but made some mistakes and then was demonized and called an abuser, manipulative, gaslighter, horrible person and then I found out I was autistic so the things I was doing (like leaving a party to sit outside and decompress when I was overwhelmed and crying) weren't as common-sense and understood as I thought (aka said behavior was called me going off and crying to isolate people and make them come take care of me) ANYWAY. It's kinda funny because I've always bounced between Patton and Virgil for TS; it was mostly Virgil at first and then I had a gap where Good Omens took over, and then it was back to TS but now more vibing with Patton

10) I can't really think of a comfort character that would be considered "not good" besides like. The characters I call my "Anime Boyfriends", Jake English and Dirk Strider from Homestuck, but that's more because like,,, the creator of Homestuck kinda uses a *lot* of slurs,,,, but also I only read like 1/4 of the whole comic,,,, and I go off of fanon interpretations,,,, from ask blogs c2012,,, so.........

11) I do not understand the obsession with Janus and Remus. I'm gonna admit - I don't like them in canon. At all. I am ok with most fanon interpretations, but I just don't like them. I like the "Core Four" (Logan, Virgil, Patton, Roman) and that's it. And I do NOT look forward to the "orange side". And to be 100%, I get frustrated because I want to read poly fic of just the core four and so many people are tossing Janus and Remus in the mix and I just want to find the ones that don't and it takes *forever* to filter out all of the different variants of ships. 🥲 obv I'm not going to tell anyone else to stop enjoying their ships and characters, but I'm not gonna go searching for the stuff that I don't enjoy, either.

Thank you for the ask friend!! 💜💜 it's very much appreciated lol, and a lot of your questions really made me think 😅😅

[breathplayed]

12 - do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that? 

I need tips! xD

YES i have severe adhd it's been real fun trying to function in a society

what i do (some tips are replicable maybe some r not lol):

write when i Want to.... ofc this urge doesnt always strike, sometimes u do have to go force urself through a block, but i will listen to a fic playlist or daydream about the fic and it will make me Want to write down what im thinking about. having that actual desire helps lol. bc then, even if my brain is having trouble focusing My Heart/Dick still want to write so im more likely to keep pushing instead of give up

borderline sensory deprivation honestly, i can't listen to music or watch tv or anything when i write or read or think, so i blast white noise in my headphones and get completely sucked into the doc lol

i make a separate desktop on macbook that is just two windows, the fic outline on the left and the doc or writing program on the right. that way if i go to open a tab to google something for the fic i dont see other windows/tabs of Fun Stuff i was doing before that might distract me lol

i use the Forest extension with all social media blacklisted so that when my attention wanders and i open a tab to go to twitter or whatever by muscle memory, the extension puts me back in my place with the big "Ur gonna kill ur tree if u proceed" screen and im like "UUUGGHHHH thats right im supposed to be writing FIINEEE ill go back"

know when and how to give up..... sometimes writing rly isnt working but it's still good to try, if the words arent coming out right i try to settle for like. ok well i'll open the outline and i'll read over that, or reread earlier part of fic, to see if it reinspires me. if its really not working (if ur too tired/frustrated that will show in the writing style ukno) ill at least add bullet points of what the next parts of the scene should be. maybe i dont feel like writing fancy pretty sentences right now, but i can come back tomorrow and see the quick idea i jotted down on what i was thinking of doing next and that gives me a good jumping-off point

it helps to have external accountability!!!! write with a friend holding each other to a certain time period of Working on it, or just open a sprint site that has a global sprint bc then u can see other ppl working and it feels like ur racing them. body doubling with adhd helps with this too, if u go to a cafe/library and see others working it keeps u focused (like im not gonna open youtube and start watching some stupid shit with others able to see over my shoulder, im gonna Open My Doc)

this last point is only applicable if u have a stimulants prescription for adhd (or buy it somewhere i guess lol) but i definitely am 20-1000x more productive when i take my meds. the hyperfocus is way easier to kick into. sometimes when i pop my silly lil pill i can write like 4-7k average in a 3 hour sitting

Best of luck... Never give up........ also helps i think to pay attention to what conditions work for u and replicate them, like where u write best!! last summer i got one of them fancy clicky raised key keyboards + a riser for my laptop and that made typing fun, ill probably return to it eventually i just have it packed away atm

[zepskies]

Thank you so much, friend! And wow, wow -- what a treat it is to hear your thoughts on my work again. 😍

But damn, Betsy is my worst nightmare 😂 I hate those old elevators! And then you go ahead and make my worst fears come true! Well, almost… at least the cable didn’t break in this one and she fell to her death, splattering on the ground. I guess not much daring would’ve happened after that one, huh? 😝

Lmfaoo same, because this legitimately happened to me (got stuck in an elevator for about an hour. I didn't have my cell, and no one could hear me because I was stuck somewhat between 2 floors. 2 ridiculously hot firemen pulled me out.)

And as her grandpa so "helpfully" pointed out, just like you, at least the cables didn't snap. 🫠

But then Lieutenant Dean Winchester to the rescue! Honestly, that charming man makes it worth being stuck in an old elevator. Elevator = nightmare. Dean Winchester in a uniform = daydream 💚 (Grade-A Hottie, indeed!) Also Dean and reader with their bingo card/fortune cookie comments killed me 😂

Ikr?? Just imagine the uniform lol. Jensen would absolutely kill a firefighter role. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 And LOL I'm so glad you appreciated that line. It made me smile while writing it. 😂

And then there’s Nick… Jesus Christ, is murder allowed in this fic? Can he fall down an elevator shaft?

First of all, love to see a fellow Friends fan. 😂 Second of all, you're really gonna wish Nick were dead in this story, even more so as we go on. (Dean would be the first one to drop him down into the dark abyss.) Believe me, there will be murder though. 🤣

And I don't blame you on that caramel frappe -- I'd gladly sacrifice my $6 Starbucks to coat that asshole's face in scalding coffee.

Speaking of killing off characters, don’t you dare kill off Grandpa George! That sweet old man stole my heart and needs to be protected at all costs 🥹😭❤️

Aww I'm so glad you love George already! I loosely based him off my own Cuban grandpa lol, who shares the same name (Jorge).

But omg I love the OG Charlie and the Chocolate Factory!! Wonderful book, classic movie. (Love Gene Wilder, RIP.)

And lastly, I was with the reader at the end there. Bringing some hot firefighter food for the purpose of saying “thank you” is surely awkward. Especially when about 99% of the women he saves do probably exactly that so they can see him again 😂 But baking cookies for the whole firehouse is an excellent idea! Besides, we already know Dean’s got his green eyes on her as well 😏

Yeah I would be too embarrassed to put myself out there like that, but baking for the whole crew, that takes the pressure off loll. I'm sure other women would do that and more though. 🤣🤣 (And he definitely does. 😏)

Thank you again for your lovely thoughts, hun!! Looking forward to what you think of future chapters. 💕

Smoke Eater - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! 🥳❤️‍🔥 You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1: "Class and Style"

Come on, come on, come on!

The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.

I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!

And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.

“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”

Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance. 

The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.

But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.

You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.

Shit!

You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened…

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.

“Oh, God…” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant…you were stuck.

Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.

But that was okay! Because you still had your phone…

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell…

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You shouted for help.

You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.

You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.

Maybe no one could hear you.

“All right. Don’t…don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.

You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.

But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Fire Department.”

“Oh, God. Yes!”

With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.

“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.

“How soon is soon?” you asked.

“…About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

Jesus Christ.

You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.

Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.

Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?

Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.

“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”

You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.

“Hello?!”

“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes…” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”

“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”

“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”

 You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.

Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.

He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.

“There you are,” he greeted.

You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.

“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

You gave it to him as you took the harness.

“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”

You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”

It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.

“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.

“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”

You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.

Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air. 

“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window…”

“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it…even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).

“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.

His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.

“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”

He leaned in further so you could reach him.

…And damn it, you believed him.

Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.

“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.

You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.

You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.

“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.

“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.

Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!

You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”

He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.

“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.

But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.

You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.

Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next…

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.

A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.

You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”

“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh…once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”

Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.

You were livid.

But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.

“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”

You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.

Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.

“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse. 

You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.

He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.

Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.

Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.

He could admit, you had both class and style.

“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.

Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.

“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”

You shot him an amused look.

“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”

George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”

Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.

Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.

“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”

George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.

“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”

George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.

“Just something caught in my throat.”

“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.

You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.

“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.

“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”

A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.

“A bar fight would make me more productive?”

George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”

You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.

For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.

“You should get that, huh?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.

“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.

“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.

Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.

As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman. 

“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.

“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.

“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained… Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”

And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.

Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.

Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.

You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.

It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills…

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said Andréa. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”

You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.

“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”

“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”

You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm’ bit.”

Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)

“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.

“Oh, yeah?” Andréa said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.

“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” Andréa said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”

You became more contemplative then.

Bake something, huh?

Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free…

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.

You smiled.

“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”

“Hmm, my cousin might know,” Andréa said. “Let me reach out to her…what’s his name again?”

“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.

“His name was Dean.”

AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! 🥰 What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?

Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.

And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.

Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. 😂

...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. 🫠 Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)

Anywho...

Next Time:

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Due to Tumblr's dumb 50-only tag rule, I'm tagging the rest of you in a reblog. 😘

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[awakaru]

Considering that I'm likely just speaking into the void, I'm just gonna jot down the shit I've figured for my Untamed daydreams here lol

OC is a Jiang Clan disciple who started off accidentally befriending Yanli, which then quickly escalated to being close to the three siblings

OC is at least close to Wei Wuxian's level power wise and just as sassy; the two of them together makes Jiang Cheng flip his shit very often but OC is also the one person Yanli trusts to control her lil bro when he's on the verge of being extra unreasonable

(I need to rewatch the beginning again cuz some details have faded so how she ends up going to Clouds Recesses is a mystery right now; been working under the assumption that she was only allowed to go under the guise of keeping Yanli company specifically, so she's not actually attending the lectures when it's going on. [I am currently second guessing this but I really don't recall Yanli being at the lectures?? Ugh])

Anyway, assuming she isn't actually at the lectures, one day OC bothers Wei Wuxian for a copy of the Lan Clan's 3k rules for funsies

Cut to later when Lan Wanji finds her with her own written copy of the rules, but it's only the ones that she personally believes actually makes good cultivators, and ends up explaining her thought process to him when he doesn't leave (something about some of the rules aren't things that can actually be changed about a person like temperament and trying to make people conform to them can be damaging in the long term, plus some other stuff that I seem to have forgotten atm)

While thinking idly about if any of the other cultivators present would potentially have a crush on her during the lectures my brain fuckin screamed "NIE HUISANG" and honestly I couldn't dispute that, so that's a thing lol It's one-sided as fuck though

Like I had the mental image of the crush being revealed cuz the fucker has no poker face atp and Wei Wuxian just laughing at him cuz (and this is very silly and clumsy but thoughts are weird) OC's the "girl version" of himself and she would also laugh at Nie Huisang if it ever came up so might as well save himself the heartache lol

I've just been having fun imagining her dynamics with everybody c'=

Her and Jiang Cheng is especially fun to play with, to the point where I can't actually imagine her ending up with anybody else? Which is strange cuz I didn't really plan on romance being a thing. Like, I ideally would've gone for Wuxian but I do feel bad about ruining the soulmates ;; Ah well

I still need to have a very good think and probably write shit more coherently than whatever mess I just put down here lol

[tr4sh-hive-3]

i need HELP pLEASE (& thank you)

fuck fuck fuck fuCK fUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

i need help.

I am simply in shambles.

hi! my name’s pan, I’m 13, and I’m failing all my classes. Fuck! I’m so lonely. Everyone’s disappointed in me. I can’t do anything. I can’t do anything. Please help me.

I want to do something. I need to do something, anything. I can write. I can go full fucking Hamilton on this bitch. Like tomorrow won’t arrive, like I’m running out of time, like it’s going out of style, all that jazz. that’s my only skill, but fuck it’s pretty goddamn useful. I can do five (5) things; read, write, think, talk, and love. last one probably wouldn’t be super useful for college.

okay, I think I’ve calmed down a bit. hear me out. I will post something on tumblr everyday. everyday. cause if I can’t do something regularly that actually takes consistent memory and planning and commitment and all that fucking jazz I’m gonna start having suicidal daydreams again. even if it’s a stupid shitpost, I need————fucking something. This post has been in my drafts for, probably, some amount of weeks. I didn’t even finish that last sentence, “I need-“. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Yeah, writing is not useful. Theoretically, it should be, right? I should be seducing teachers and colleges and all sorts of academics with essays, but I’m not. I’m not even that good at writing. Mama says I am but she’s fucking lying. She also says I’m beautiful and smart and hardworking. The only reason I don’t have suicidal fantasies is cause of my mama. I love my mama very much. But she’s a fucking liar.

I can’t write. (4).

The only thing I read is fanfiction. I’m just gonna be honest ‘bout that. I’ve read the first 5 chapters of Divergent and Jesus fucking Christ it’s boring as fuck. Hold on: reading test scores. I’m usually in the 99th percentile for reading comprehension/proficiency. And lemme tell you, every time I take one of those silly little tests, it does WONDERS for my ego. But I am unable to read regularly.

I can’t read. (3).

Pretty sure I have severe social anxiety. I’ve always thought I would be able to talk to and entertain and charm people easily. Because I can talk to myself. I’m always talking to myself in made-up scenarios. And I’m always charming and entertaining. It’s so annoying when I’m trying to socialize with actual humans and I keep stuttering and going quiet and covering my face in embarrassment. And at first I thought it wasn’t that bad. That I could make those annoying-ass mannerisms kinda cute, right? And I could lean into it and make “cute’n’shy” the selling point of my personality. I know that sounds super cringey. This whole post sounds super cringey. And my last post too. I’m so scared that everyone else thinks I’m cringey and annoying and obnoxious and too loud or too quiet and not worth talking to. Anyway, that selling point does not work. It just gives me more anxiety. And fuck if I know the impression it makes on anyone else.

I can’t talk (to other people). (2).

I think I might be cupioromantic. I’ve read about romance. I’ve heard it described as butterflies and ecstasy pills. Romantic, sexual attractions are supposed to be strong feelings. Or at least enjoyable ones. And heartbreak is supposed to feel physically painful. I’ve never felt any of those. I thought I was touch-starved, but there’s this guy that I don’t particularly like who says he has a crush on me and we cuddle at the bus stop and sure the cuddles are fine and I don’t mind his company but I am not attracted to him at all. For some reason, I thought cuddling with a tolerable person would be super nice? But it’s not. So now I’m kinda just doing it so he doesn’t feel rejected. Not that I’m leading him on! I’ve been very clear that I am very much not attracted to him. I guess we’re friends. He refers to me as his crush. I don’t like that. This love rant has gotten kind of off topic. Back on track; I keep having these fantasies with a nameless person in which I hold their hand, kiss their forehead, make them pancakes, sing them love songs, write them love letters, give them little romantic gifts, pet their hair till they fall asleep, etc. I’ve never actually felt that way about a real person. I might not ever feel that way about a real person. All this romance stuff is really confusing and annoying. I’ll just stick to platonic relationships for now. But I don’t have any friends. I really hope everyone’s indifferent towards me. It’s so much easier to be unknown than it is to be disliked. I’m not sure which one I am.

I can’t love. (1).

My grandfather patented a medical imaging thingamajig. He was pretty smart. He’s dead now. I’m actually typing this from one of his three phones that I inherited cause my old one got stolen. I always liked the bastard. My dad yelled at him a lot but he didn’t give a shit. He never got upset or offended or quiet or loud back when my dad was an ass to him. Maybe he wasn’t the best parent. His kids (my dad and tia) turned out to be some nasty pieces of work. Actually, just my dad. Tia’s fine—just kinda loopy and alcoholic. She’s really nice. Her husband’s an ass, though. And her son. I can’t really blame the son. His parents are a little subpar. I got off topic again. Sorry. It’s kinda late and I’ve been dreadfully sick these last few days. You’ve got an attention span of steel if you’ve made it this far. Sorry again, back on track:

Following the pattern of this text post, I am now going to prove my state of <no thoughts head empty>.

I overthink things. A lot. I think there’s something wrong with me. Or maybe I don’t. Maybe my thoughts are completely normal. Maybe this is what it’s like inside everyone’s head. But if I’m the same as everyone else, why is it that the average “everyone else” can function as a human being? I can’t function. I can barely brush my teeth everyday. Let alone exist bearably in a school setting. Grades are the only things that matter right now. And mine are shit. So I don’t matter. I can’t even force myself to try. All of it is so fucking boring. AND I’M OFF TOPIC. AGAIN. FUCKING CHRIST. MY GRADES? SHIT. GRADES DIRECTLY CORRELATE TO? INTELLIGENCE AND MANAGEMENT SKILLS. INTELLIGENCE AND MANAGEMENT SKILLS DIRECTLY CORRELATE TO? THINKING. ABILITY TO THINK. ABILITY TO BRAIN PROPERLY. BRAINING. BRAINING WELL. ZAPPING THE FUCKING BRAIN CELLS IN PROPER FUCKING ORDER. ALL THE BRAIN CELLS. FUCKING. BRAIN CELL ORGY. HOTEL? MOTHERFUCKING TRIVAGO.

Think? I cannot. Can’t think. I cannot think. (0).

Okay! That’s all five! I have zero (0) skills! Yay! Shit! I have provided evidence and reasoning. I’m so proud of myself. I’ve finally gotten to the end of this godforsaken text post. This bitch has been in the drafts for weeks. What was even the point of this? Is this what is feels like to finish something? To accomplish a task?

If you’re actually reading this, congratulations. You’re ready to kill god. If you haven’t already. You have the focus of a goddamn hawk.

I. Am. Going. To. Stop. Rambling

I. Am. Going. To. Post. Everyday.

(insert clever sign-off here)

[meowdarame]

𝟐𝟏 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟐𝟏

pairings: kakucho x f!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

warnings: NSFW/DARK CONTENT; 18+ MINORS DNI!; consensual somnophilia, alcohol consumption (to the point of passing out), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex/creampie, lmk if there’s anything i missed!

word count: 3.0k

notes: the 2nd installation for my birth month event, for she’s a jolly good fellow! this is my first time writing dark content, so please be gentle (~_~;) as always, likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

beta-readers: @christeningsakusa @noekoi @islascafe @portfolio-of-dreams

It’s not easy being Bonten’s third in command, and work has been an exceptional pain in Kakucho’s ass recently.

Piles of Manila folders are strewn out across his desk, reports from his underlings waiting to be read and reviewed. His fingers sift through each sheet of paper, and once they find the one labeled with today’s date, he begins reading.

Twelve shipments went out to Roppongi, but only eleven were delivered. Probably the work of a rival gang— the Haitani’s should have some insight over who could’ve done this. I’ll have to arrange a meeting with them as soon as possible….

“Kaku,” your soft voice breaks through the silence in his study. Placing your hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders, you rub out the tight knots in his muscles. “I have a question for you.”

“Yes, my love,” he responds, barely even regarding you with a side glance, his eyes still trained on the report before him. “What is it?”

You pull his chair out from his desk and situate yourself onto his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you play with the strands of hair that have fallen on his pretty face. “So you know how my birthday is coming up next week, right?”

“Mhm,” he purrs, melting into your touch like freshly fallen snow. He loves the feeling of your nimble fingers toying with his raven locks— it’s his favorite way to relax.

“And I’m gonna— or at least my friends want me to— play 21 for 21… y’know that drinking game where you take 21 shots on your 21st birthday.”

His eyes dart from the report and stare straight into yours. Shooting you a glare that borderlines a scowl, he sternly replies, “No, you’re not. Drinking 21 shots of hard alcohol would be dangerous for anyone, even me. I’m not letting you do it.”

“Hmph, fine.” You huff out a pout. “I’ll get to a point where I feel good then I’ll switch out the shots with water. Is that alright, Kaku?”

“Hmm,” he hums in approval, returning his attention to his work splayed out before him.

“Anyways,” you continue on. You move your head to block his view of the report, diverting his attention once again; Kakucho agitatedly furrows his brows at you. “That’s not the main thing I wanted to ask you about.”

“Sweetheart.” Annoyance is evident in his tone, but only slightly. “What is it that you want? You know that I don’t like it when you play these mind games with me. If you want something, spit it out. Otherwise, let me work in peace.”

You cross your arms and scoff. “Fine, then. I just wanted to let you know that when I inevitably drink too much and pass out on my birthday, I want you to take me home and fuck me. But I guess you’d rather bury your face into these reports than my cunt.”

Kakucho’s eyes almost bulge out of his own head. Did I hear her correctly? He sets the file down on his desk and places his calloused hands on your waist, gripping the flesh slightly. Am I daydreaming?

“What?”

“Oh, so now I have your attention, huh?” You tease, pressing kisses up and down his jaw and neck.

“No— I mean, yes, you do, but—” Kakucho sputters back, squirming in his seat as he feels your hot lips leave wet kisses along all of his sensitive spots. “Why?”

“I dunno,” you murmur against his skin. “Just read about it online and thought it was hot. So why not try it out with my loving, caring, and trustworthy boyfriend?”

Kakucho’s mind feels like the static that’s buzzing on the TV screen. “B-baby, are you absolutely sure that this is what you want? We can try it later— like in a month! That way you can sit on your decision and if you still want to do it we can—”

Your fingers grip his jaw, forcing him to stare at you square in the face. “Kaku, I have been thinking about this for a while now. And I’m certain that I want to do this, but of course, I don’t wanna force you to do anything that you don’t wanna do. Do you not want to do it, babe?”

His shoulders relax and his expression softens when he hears the sincerity in your voice. “I do, my love, but it’s just… why? And why me?”

“Well, you always call me your ‘spoiled lil princess’ so I just thought, why not give this time instead of receive!” you cheer, and you and Kakucho laugh over your joke. “But for real, I can tell that you’ve been losing hair because of work recently, and I wanna help you destress, baby. And you’re the only person I trust enough to do this with, Kaku.”

“I’m the only one you can trust with this,” he snaps back sarcastically. “I am your only boyfriend after all. Unless…”

“Hey!” You punch his shoulder, and he chuckles at your cuteness. He wraps his arms around you to calm you down, but your balled up fists push him away. “You know I would never cheat on you!” After a few seconds of this back-and-forth, you eventually relent and allow yourself to sink into his warm embrace.

You sigh into his neck, your warm breath tickling his skin. “Kaku, I trust you wholeheartedly. I know you won’t do anything that I wouldn’t want you to do when I’m awake. I’m all yours to use— fuck me like you mean it.”

His breath hitches at your obscene yet soft words, causing his eyebrows to raise. It takes a minute for your words to fully register in his brain, but once they do, he nestles his cheek against the crown of your head, holding you still and relishing in the shared intimacy.

“Alright, I’ll do it. But why is it so easy for you to get whatever you want, huh?” He teases and pokes the sides of your waist.

“You always say that I’m really good at convincing people!” You chime back, and it makes him giggle.

You really are my spoiled lil princess, he muses to himself.

…

That conversation was a week ago, and Kakucho hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. Nervousness bubbled in his stomach the closer your special day approached; a sick feeling stirred in his stomach and traveled up his throat, threatening to choke him if he thought about it for too long. He had hoped that these nerves would disappear once he saw you in your birthday outfit— an open-back cocktail dress that hugged all of your curves in the right places. He thought that once he laid eyes on your sexy and scantily clad figure, any insecurities festering within him would dissipate, and his body— or rather, his horniness— would take over.

But now, your sleeping figure lays in the bed right next to him, and Kakucho still hasn’t been able to make a single move— too afraid to lay a hand on you. He’s been pacing around your room for the past 20 minutes; each step that he takes only adds to the anxiety that he feels in the pit of his stomach.

“Hmm,” he hums to himself as he bites his nail. What do I do? His mind races as he tries to work up enough courage. If she wakes up tomorrow and finds out I didn’t fuck her, she’ll be disappointed. And at this rate, she’ll wake up before I can even press a kiss on her lips. What the fuck am I gonna do? Kakucho, stop being a scared lil—

His thoughts are cut off when he hears you grumble. His eyes flash over to your unconscious figure, watching intently for any signs of pain or discomfort on your pretty face. You shift on top of your covers, repositioning yourself so that you’re lying on your back with your arm draped across your middle section. In this new position, your tits threaten to spill out of the top of your dress, your areolas barely peeking above the thin material. Kakucho’s eyes widen when he stares at your chest— his temperature quickly rises as all the blood rushes to his cock.

His hand shakily reaches out to pinch your nipples, and after a few seconds of tugging and tweaking, the bud hardens underneath his fingertips. His lips quirk up into a smirk; the nervousness that swam in his gut is quickly replaced by excitement when he hops up onto your bed and sits next to you.

“Baby,” Kakucho whispers against your skin, though he doesn’t know why— it’s not like you can hear him. “I’m gonna take your dress off now, okay?”

He throws his shirt over his head before he begins to unwrap his present. His delicate fingers unzip your zipper and slide the thin straps off of your shoulders, letting the fabric pool around your waist. Gently lifting your hips, he pulls the dress and your panties off of your limp body completely.

You look so beautiful underneath him. Your face looks so peaceful— your lips are slightly parted and your eyes are gently closed shut. He’s always known that you were a pretty sleeper, but this new perspective only makes his heart beat faster. The steady rising and falling of your chest makes your perked nipples stand out even more in the warm lamplight. Kakucho spreads your legs and kneels in between them; his thumbs carefully push apart your folds and the sight makes his mouth water. You’re completely soaked— even in your unconscious state, your pussy still yearns for him. Seeing you bare and pliant underneath him ignites a fire in his gut, and he lets go of his inhibitions when he experimentally runs his lithe fingers up and down your slit.

You’ve never been this wet before. His fingertips glide over your folds with ease, collecting your slick and coating his fingers. He rubs slow and loose circles on your clit, fingertips ghosting over your skin and barely applying any pressure. Worried about disturbing you, he keeps his eyes trained on your sleeping face to watch for any signs of you waking up. You lie still and silent, except for the soft breathing coming from your nostrils— it’s his cue that he can pick up his pace.

Kakucho presses a little harder now, but not to the point that could cause discomfort. His fingertips swipe your swollen nub back and forth, exactly how you would like if you were awake. You rustle in your sleep which makes him halt his movements, but he realizes that you were just turning your head to the side.

She’s drunk as fuck right now, Kakucho reassures himself. There’s no way she’s waking up any time before noon tomorrow.

With this comforting revelation in mind, he places his middle and ring finger on his tongue to collect some spit before slowly inching the two digits into your tight hole. His fingers scissor and knead inside of you, simultaneously preparing you to take his cock and coaxing an orgasm from your unconscious form. The alcohol in your system makes your cunt feel even warmer; he can’t wait for your plush walls to be wrapped around him.

Your cunt is getting slicker by the second. He can’t pry his eyes off of his fingers— they’re glistening all the way down to his knuckles, where a white ring of your cream has formed. Kakucho marvels at the way your pussy feels like it's both sucking him and pushing him out at the same time. When your pussy begins to contract around his digits and your thighs begin to shake, he knows that you’re cumming. A light mewl slips past your lips and Kakucho’s eyes shoot up to your face, but you’re still sound asleep. Even if she’s passed out, she still makes such cute noises when she cums.

He slides his fingers out of your drooling hole and pops them in his mouth, the pink muscle savoring your sweet and tangy taste. Your cum and juices dance deliciously on his tongue and he wants to taste more, but he thinks he might cum in his pants if he gave you head— and he can’t let that happen. He still needs to fuck you, just like he promised.

He quickly slides off his jeans and boxers, freeing his aching cock from the tight and restricting material. His tip slaps against his lower abdomen, and it’s already so red and leaky from being ignored all night.

“Baby, I’m gonna flip you over, okay? It’ll be easier for me to fuck you if you’re on your tummy,” he whispers to your sleeping figure, peppering kisses all over your cheek and forehead. Gently flipping your limp onto your stomach, he cradles your head to make sure that he doesn’t accidentally hurt your neck. Once you’re settled in this new position, his knees weasel their way in between your parted legs. Spitting onto his hand, he strokes his length a few times, throwing his head back and letting out a low groan from the stimulation. Once his cock is lubed up, he leans forward, placing his weight onto one forearm while the other hand lines his tip up with your hole.

“I’m gonna put it in now, my love. Just relax for me, m’kay?” How much more relaxed can she be? She’s fucking asleep! Kakucho chides himself but then laughs at his own foolishness.

The first tight ring of your pussy squeezes around his tip, and the warm wetness makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. Inching himself inside slowly, he suckles and licks on the flesh on your shoulders; after a minute, his head lightly presses against your cervix and adds more pressure against his throbbing cock.

He starts out by slowly grinding into you, letting your pussy stretch and grow used to his girth. With each slight roll of his hips, a lewd moan rumbles from deep inside his chest, and he has to bite into your shoulder to muffle his pitiful noises. Kakucho feels like his head is swirling; both of your bodies feel like they’re sizzling to the touch. It’s taking every ounce of restraint to stop himself from pounding into you already, far too afraid of pushing you past your limit. He’s teetering on the edge of sanity— wanting to fuck into you at an abusing pace but not wanting to be too rough with you— but then he remembers your perfect smile and reassuring words.

“Kaku, I trust you wholeheartedly. I know you won’t do anything that I wouldn’t want you to do when I’m awake. I’m all yours to use— fuck me like you mean it.”

With this memory, Kakucho relaxes and abandons all of his insecurities. He presses a kiss against the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’m sorry if you wake up sore tomorrow, my love. But I just wanna make sure I keep my end of the promise.”

In one swift motion, he flips you over onto your side so that he’s spooning your body. Lifting your leg, he pulls it as close to your chest as it can go. His hips reel back and snap forward with significant force, and lewd slapping sounds ring out when his thighs crash against your ass. He continues at this frenzied pace, his tip now slamming against your cervix with each thrust, and it makes your pussy flutter around him with each impact.

“Fuck, pretty, you feel so good,” he growls against your ear. “We should do this more often.”

He hooks the backside of your thigh around his forearm and snakes his fingers down your body. Rubbing frantic circles around the sensitive clit, he feels your walls tighten around him, practically choking his cock.

“Gonna cum, princess?” He teases. “Bet you’re not even asleep right now— bet you’re fuckin’ faking it. Pretending like you’re blacked out when in reality you just wanted to be my personal cumdoll this whole time.”

A chuckle erupts from his chest and he shakes his head. “Tch, that’s not possible. There’s no way you’d be able to keep quiet if you really were awake. You’re always so loud.”

He pinches your clit with his index finger and thumb, and your entire body convulses as juices spray from your cunt. Lewd squelching fills the room as Kakucho empties himself into you, painting your walls white and filling your tummy up with an immense warmth. The overstimulation quickly becomes too much to bear, and his thrusts become shallower and shallower until he pulls out. He feels lightheaded— he came so hard that he swears that all of his blood rushed from his head to his dick in that very instant. Gently placing your leg back down, he flips you onto your back and admires the way that his cum dribbles from your fucked out cunt.

“Guess I should clean my spoiled lil princess up, huh?” He jokes in between labored pants. He slides himself off of your bed and grabs a box of baby wipes from your nightstand. Carefully spreading your folds with one hand, he cleans you with the other, meticulously yet gently scrubbing in between your folds and around your inner thighs. After tossing the dirtied wipe in your waste basket, he grabs a clean towel from your closet.

“I can’t wash your sheets tonight, so this will have to do for the time being,” he sighs as he places the fluffy material over the drenched area on your bed sheets.

He lies down behind you and wraps a strong arm around your body. Propping himself up on one elbow, he drinks in your serene expression for a few minutes.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispers eventually, breaking the silence. His soft lips meet your temple, allowing the kiss to linger against your skin for a few extra seconds before he pulls away.

And although he knows that you can’t hear him, he still says the next five words before lying back down to sleep.

“Happy birthday, I love you.”

tagging: @bxnten @sabyss @petalsrdead @ohtobiors @frenchtoastmafia @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaotic-fangirl-blog @semisgroupie @tetsukentona @dessceased @sunat2508 @rueren @rinsie @crystal-lilac @21-06-1996 @sweeneyblue1 + my network @shibuyawardnetwork

[howlingdemon13]

Who was your first fictional crush?:

Frodo Baggins. At least, I think he was the first one…? Little me was onto something there…

What's the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?:

Emerald green, but that’s because it’s my favorite.

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?:

I don’t really read fanfiction if I’m being honest. I’ve tried to read and write it, but I just end up losing focus and idk why. When I do read anything, I make sure to read the tags and avoid things that might make me upset.

I'm coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?:

A beef roast with garlic harvester sauce with a side of baked potatoes and sauteed mushrooms (with enough seasoning to kill a WASP). Dessert is apple cake.

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?:

Lions. I’m a sucker for anything kitty-cat shaped.

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?:

My pwetty widdle meow-meow angel pwincess woobie babie ✨ DIO ✨

(the title is non-negotiable btw).

And honestly, Kars, too.

Also, does Beetlejuice count as a villain? I guess he does in the movies, but I’m a little more partial to the musical? So, antagonist? Anti-hero? Whatever, he gets a pass, too.

“Howie, is this because you’re a closeted monsterfu-?”

*I explode you with my eyes.*

And, because this is the piss-on-the-poor website, just because I love morally-reprehensible dudes in fiction does not mean I condone that shit irl. 🙄

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?:

Annoying know-it-all freak lesbian (based off of multiple rumors about me that circulated in elementary and middle school. Jokes on them though! I’m bi! >:D The rest have… some basis in reality…)

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?:

I assume this is asking for media, and I have a few main ones so…

Beetlejuice: Until I actually die-die. It’s basically how I live now since I don’t think I’d be living in a haunted house. If that is the case though, maybe a day? Depends on the bug demon’s shenanigans. At worst, a few minutes.

Lord of the Rings: Depends on where I live? If I were a hobbit in the Shire, I feel like I would survive Saruman’s takeover (I survived one Trump presidency, so…). I’d probably be fine as an elf or dwarf in the Third Age: they don’t get involved in anything lol, and I certainly wouldn’t try to reclaim Moria (sorry, Balin). If I was a Gondorian though…? That siege of Minas Tirith?!?!?! Haha, yeah, I’d be toast within minutes. Totally cooked.

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Am I a Stand user? Because, if so, I’m D.O.A. But I feel like I’d probably be fine if I just ignore the Joestar-related shenanigans? … Wait, I made a sona… son of a-!

Dracula: Consider me a walking juicebox full of blood. I’d be dead-dead in a fortnight max. Can I at least be a vampire though? Like, if I’m gonna get bit, can I at least get turned and have some perks? Because I think that counts as dying.

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?:

Respectfully, what is that? Now I’m curious.

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?:

If we’re talking about the modern retelling of the story, then obviously.

If we’re talking literally every other version of the myth, then I’m kind of ambivalent? Though I do love a well-designed monster lady…

“Howie, are you saying that because you’re a closeted monsterfu-?”

*I cut a rope. An ACME safe lands on you.*

Which song makes you think of your OTP?:

I’ll be honest, I really do not think about shipping enough to care about songs for said ships? Like, I genuinely do not care about that aspect of fandom (with a minor exception being AvPol maybe, but I really don’t think about that ship any more than, say… Beeltelands or Trephacard in the past). Not applicable lol

Which song makes you disassociate and daydream the fastest?:

Depends on the vibe we’re going for, but Funeral by Neoni or Death by Melanie Martinez ig?

Tagging @an-darth-maiden @ealvara7 @hallowyeet @justsayapple

But consider yourself tagged if you see this.

My own get to know you game:

Who was your first fictional crush?:

What’s the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?:

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?:

I’m coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?:

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?:

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?:

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?:

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?:

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?:

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?:

Which song makes you think of your OTP?:

Which song makes you disassociate and daydream the fastest?:

Tags: @weltato, @snarky-wallflower, @feathertru, @barclaysangel, @fanficwriter284, @silvershewolf247, @shadowbrightshine, @luxury-nightmare and anyone else who wants to have a go, feel free!

[creweemmaeec11]

Villain X Hero Writing Prompt- Today is the Villain's birthday but due to a bad memory accosiated with it (and because the villain is kinda lonely) they dont celebrate. The villain has a battle with the hero with the hero merging victorious, kidnapping the villain. The villain thinks they've been kidnapped for information however the hero made made dinner and got a meaningful gift for the villain. Have fun with this prompt!

I love this concept. Villains being surprised with pleasantries is everything♡ I know I didn't quite get to the present part, but it felt like the right place to cut it off. I also just realized I kinda forgot about the "for information" part, oops. also I'm so sorry this took so long!

As if their day couldn't suck any more than it already did, the villain had to go and top it off with losing in a fight with the city's hero.

Could this day get *any* worse?

They were handcuffed in the back of the hero's police car, driving through the city, towards the city jail, just like they had so many times before.

The villain had escaped jail multiple times, so this wasn't much more than a large inconvenience for them, at least it would have been, had it happened on *any* other day.

The criminal in question had gone out to avoid sitting at home alone with their thoughts today. Having to sit alone with their thoughts in a jail cell was an even worse option.

Letting out a deep sigh, they flopped back against the seat. Miserable. They just felt miserable. It felt like they couldn't even see colour in the world around them anymore.

"You're much quieter than usual," the hero commented as they drove, "Is something wrong?

"Excuse me‽"

"You're usually more talkative. These drives have never been this quiet before,"

"What do you care?" The villain muttered as they turned to look out the window.

That's when the villain suddenly realized something.

"Wait, we aren't going the right way," the villain blurted out, sitting up straighter suddenly.

The hero in the front seat gave a laugh under their breath, "you only just noticed?"

"This isn't the way to the station or city jail,"

"That would be because we aren't going to the station or city jail,"

The villain felt their throat tighten.

"Where are we going?" The villain asked, trying and failing to sound demanding. There were notes of slight fear. Nerves.

In the rearview mirror, the villain saw the hero glance at them, before their gaze fell back to the road ahead.

They didn't say anything.

"Hero..." the villain tried, "Where are you taking me...?"

"You'll see," was the hummed response.

A feeling of dread settled in their stomach.

Looking out the window, the car was already on the outskirts of the city.

Suddenly the radio was flicked on.

The villain swallowed nervously.

What a day to go out on, of all the 365 to choose from in a year.

After driving for close to half an hour, they were well outside the city and into the surrounding woods, pulling up to what looked like a small cabin.

It wasn't that the villain exactly *blamed* the hero for what they were about to do. Clearly, they'd pushed the other too far, or maybe the hero had finally grown tired of their game of cat and mouse.

This just wasn't how the villain imagined themselves leaving this mortal coil. It was always in a blaze of glory, last stand type of thing.

Still, they couldn't find it in themselves to fight back. Not today. Perhaps it was fate, to be taken out on the same day it all began. Poetic, if not ironic.

The hero got out of the car, straightening themselves and stretching for a moment before turning and opening the back door.

"Are you coming?" The hero asked, before surprisingly taking a step back away from the door so the villain could get out on their own. Not like it mattered, the hero probably knew there was nowhere to run out here now.

"Do I have a choice?" The villain muttered under their breath, looking at the ground.

The hero had the *audacity* to look *surprised* at that. As if they were shocked the villain wasn't jumping with excitement to get this over with.

"Well, I mean... no... I guess... I'd like to think I'm not forcing you but..."

The villain sighed, before swinging their feet out and standing up. Luckily, they'd been cuffed in the front this time, which- now that they thought about it, was also abnormal- but it made it easier to get out of the car on their own.

Still, they felt the hero put a hand under their arm to help steady them -as if polite bedside manner would change anything, only for the villain to shrug them off.

"I'm assuming there's nothing I can say to talk you *out* of doing this, is there?"

"What?" The hero asked in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Ya know, pull the whole 'you don't have to do this, I'll be better, I swear' kind of thing?"

"Excuse me-?"

"I mean-" the villain continued. They were rambling now. Maybe the fear was finally fully starting to kick in. The desperation, because they really *didn't* want this. There was no way they'd allow themselves to beg, but- "it would be a lie either way, I guess, despite the fact I probably shouldn't have said that I'm assuming you'd already know anyway, so-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," the hero said, placing a hand on the villain's shoulder gently, snapping them out of their spiralling thoughts, "What in the world do you think I brought you out here for?"

The villain rolled their eyes, "At least make it quick, will you? And stop acting oblivious or like I forced your hand. At least own up to what your about to do,"

The other's eyes widened as the final piece clicked into place, "You think-! I'm not gonna kill you-!" They cried in what could have been mistaken for horror.

The criminal furrowed their brows.

"I brought you here to *show* you something, silly!" The hero explained, before stepping forward and unclipping the handcuffs off the villain's wrists.

Said villain's eyes widened, "what‽"

The hero nodded, smiling, "I have a surprise for you,"

"What?!" They asked again.

The hero only nodded excitedly before turning the villain by the shoulders and giving them a gentle push towards the door, "Go on! Look inside!"

The villain glanced at the hero uncertainty before stepping forward toward the cabin.

When they opened the door, they froze on the spot.

It wasn't anything crazy.... the inside looked like any other cabin. Table, chairs, small kitchen and living area with a couch and tv. Warm glowing lights and-

A banner hung from the ceiling that read in large letters "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

The villain spun around so fast they nearly gave themself whiplash, turning to the hero that had sense come up behind them.

They jumped back slightly, words and air catching in their throat as they gawked at the hero like they'd grown 3 more heads.

Said hero laughed lightheartedly, "Surprise!"

"What..."

It was like that had become the only word in their vocabulary.

"I know it isn't decorated much, but I didn't think you'd like the cliche ribbons and streamers and party hats," they made some jazzhand-like gesture, "I was also going to blindfold you but I didn't think you'd let me do that either,"

The villain could only stare, like their brain couldn't process the words they were hearing.

"I also made dinner, and a cake! Oh! I also have a gift for you too!"

The villain didn't move.

"Oh, and one last thing, I gave up and the fun cliche stuff just for you so I'm gonna make you suck it up and accept a birthday hug,"

"Why..." the villain managed, "why would you..."

"Why not?"

"I don't deserve this, I don't-" their voice cracked.

"Hey," the hero said softly, taking a step forward, "I heard you didn't celebrate, and I couldn't just let that happen. Everyone deserves to have a good birthday,"

The villain couldn't find any words, but the single tear that managed to quickly slip out and down their cheek did all the speaking for them.

The hero gave a small, sympathetic smile before opening their arms.

Nobody moved for a moment, before the villain caved, stepping forward and looking at the ground. They didn't reciprocate, keeping their own arms close to their chest, but allowed the hero to wrap theirs around them.

They'd never realized just how much taller the hero was until they were basically burying their face into the heros collar.

The villain couldn't even bring themselves to care at the moment, because they suddenly felt so safe, which was bizarre, considering how they felt on the way, but here they were.

"I still don't think I deserve this. Especially from you," the villain muttered from where their head was still tucked down against the hero's chest.

"I don't think your qualified for that kind of thinking, considering what you thought you deserved on the way here, which I'm almost offended by, by the way,"

The hero was rewarded with a small laugh.

"So, come on," the hero said before suddenly pulling back. They reached up, gently using their thumb to brush away the tear track on the villains face, "no tears," They reached down, grabbing the villains hand to gently tug them further inside "let's make some better birthday memories,"

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[bourbon-ontherocks]

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Thank you!!! 💕💕

1. What part of the writing process is the most enjoyable?

The daydreaming!!! 💭 Cause y’know... It’s the easiest part! Plus it’s like, I can imagine 30 different versions of a scene almost in the bat of an eye and I get to decide which one(s) I’ll eventually write! Or not! There’s such a feeling of unbound freedom attached to this stage that you don’t necessarily have once you’ve started writing because consistency!! Also that’s when I get inspiration nuggets!! The feeling of power when you’ve just thought of a subplot that’s gonna mess up with everything... 😈

7. What do you love most about being a fic writer for your fandom?

Well, for GG I guess it’s the fact that everyone was so chill and supportive that it gave me the confidence to try my hands at writing and grow as a fic writer and explore what I liked and the skills I wanted to refine... And I love that this fandom gave me the opportunity to go through all the stages of self-confidence re writing, from feeling super tentative to being anxious for attention and then anxious for ignorance, from feeling compelled to write for a certain audience to not giving a shit anymore and just enjoying what makes me happy. I’m not sure I would ever have felt confident enough to then write for a non-existent fandom if I hadn’t had that experience before. Oh, and I love that even though I barely post anymore in this fandom, whenever I happen to do so, people are still there to give love and support, and I really love this sense of community that I have with this fandom ❤️

For HPI, I love that I kinda started this fandom lol! And I love that now there’s like, this small crowd of readers who follow my stories and give me some of the most incredible feedback I’ve ever received. And I love that I get to write in French! And that there is so much to explore writing-wise! And I love that there’s this whole lil community that built itself organically, and I love being a part of it! ❤️

14. Share a snippet.

Okay, since it’s you, have this sneek peak of Champagne Room 😘

They've been ten minutes or so in this mockshow of foreplays — and by then Elizabeth's breathing has quickened, her cheeks reddened, and his body fucking responded cause there's only so many times she can smash her tits at his face and expect him to remain impassible — when Gene decides to be a cunt again, probably to impress Mr. Bad Guy or some shit. The way Gene's got the mentality of a fucking puppy is genuinely baffling.

"Hey, man, are you going to fuck her or what?" he asks, his own hands roaming all around the dark-haired girl Rio's pretty sure goes under the stage name of Gloria who's kneeling in front of him, decidedly undoing his pants.

Elizabeth straightens a bit at this to look towards Gene with a disgusted expression, mimics a retch before she brings her lips close to Rio's ear. "Ew. Who even are those guys?"

Right? At least someone else gets it.

"How 'bout you do you and I do me?" Rio dryly shoots back.

Cause — gee, give a man some privacy for fuck's sake. Exhibition's never really been his jam to start with.

"This is not how it works," Gene chuckles, his eyes shining with horniness in a way that's fucking obscene at the sight of him and Elizabeth wrapped up together.

He... fuck, he gets it. He knows there is something mesmerizing about how hot they are together. Shit, he kept his eyes on that mirror for a reason. But that ain't enough of an argument to convince him to share that with the rest of the room.

"I thought there were no rules," he points out.

Under his palm, he senses Elizabeth tense at their exchange, although he can tell that she's tryna keep quiet, pretending to tease him as best as she can, pushing it as far as dragging her tongue along the edges of the wings drawn on his neck.

He swallows. This was fucking unnecessary.

Happy ramble