waternilly

[waternilly]

Reactions to Mystra’s Orders for Gale

The companions: Mystra is selfish, petty, and incorrect in her assessment of Gale’s worth. Unbelievable. Poor Gale :(

Tara: I WILL HUNT DOWN EACH AND EVERY GOD FOR SPORT

[waternilly]

Soft Sherlock Headcanons

Sherlock Holmes x reader fluff and comfort

Masterlist

Authors notes: I’ve been a Sherlock Holmes fan for years upon years, but this is the first time I’ve written him. It’s written with any Sherlock in mind but I’ve been particularly taken with Henry Cavill recently

Warnings: mildly sexually suggestive at the end, tobacco mention

Sherlock kisses you with fierce passion when he gets a spark of inspiration and is momentarily excited about a breakthrough in a case. He’s vanished the next moment, already ten steps ahead of where he was a moment ago, but his soft lips and the traces of his strong hands gripping your cheeks leaves your head spinning

When he’s struggling with a piece of the puzzle, he needs you just as much. Although he often requires silence in these moments, solitude isn’t always preferable. He will occasionally pull you to him and guide you to lay on his chest in complete silence, the pattern of your breathing and the weight of you against him soothing him endlessly as his mind works overtime

Melts when you make notes on his ramblings so he can revisit thoughts he would have otherwise discarded. You know this because his mouth fleetingly curls into a smile and he exhales slowly before resuming his usual pace

You’ll catch him watching you on occasion, when he’s supposed to be breaking some code or other and you think he’s still working on it, but actually he finished with that half an hour ago and, curiosity sated, has been gazing at you lovingly since

Nuzzles into your neck when he actually makes it to bed, your warmth and scent calming him immeasurably. He never realises how touch starved he is until his mind isn’t occupied with riddles and mysteries and your body feels so soft against his

His scent varies depending on where he’s been investigating, which tobacco he’s used, what he’s experimented with in his makeshift lab, and whether he’s been dressing in disguise. But there are always staple scents underpinning his aroma; white musk, honey and something smoky with a slightly bitter twist of ink

When he’s bored, he will find ways to occupy himself with you whilst trying his hardest not to appear needy. It always fails, however, and usually ends up with you both tangled together on the little sofa, whispering sweet nothings, giggling and kissing like lovesick teenagers

When he’s feeling sentimental, he calls you his Little Problem, because despite being far from problematic to him, he’s endlessly fascinated with you

Never believes you when you tell him he’s handsome, particularly when he’s been wearing pyjamas for three days and hasn’t bothered to comb his hair, but your extra little touches and kisses go a long way to convincing him that at least you believe it to be true

When he’s finding a social situation tricky, he surreptitiously grasps your hand in his. No one else can see, but the reassurance of your fingers squeezing his back makes his breath even out and his heart slow down

Adores the tender moments of domesticity that you share. They’re all too rare with his erratic schedule, but you bring him tea in a morning when he doesn’t want to get out of bed, or lovingly help him dress with gentle fingers carefully buttoning up his shirt, or smooth his hair down with a smile at his soft, natural curls, and he practically swoons

Always having being a fan of A Touch of The Dramatic™, he’s a hopeless romantic when he has the energy to pour into spoiling you, pulling out all the stops to make you feel special and loved. He knows that his work can make you feel lonely sometimes, so he likes to balance that out when he can with his attention solely focussed on you for a while

After a particularly taxing case, he loves nothing more than to hibernate with you. It starts with a hot bath, laying together in the silky water for hours as blissful silence washes over him, counteracting the overload of his previously racing mind

When he gathers enough energy, he whispers in a low grumble, ‘I’ll always come back to you, darling. You know that, don’t you? No matter where a case takes me, I’ll always return.’

Then, if you encourage him, he will join you for a meal before bed, where he can finally sleep soundly, relaxed in your arms — but not before spending a few more hours relishing in your touch (and your reaction to his)

[waternilly]

Note: First post 😳😳😳 Sorry if this is bad yall i literally havent written for like 3 years and its proofread by me myself and I but inspired by Angel ep 2x9 angel goes undercover and you walking in on a meeting with demons

Pairing: Angel x Reader

Request: Nopee

Gender: Hopefully neutral 🤞 (lemme know if i fucked up)

Warnings: 18+, some biting and blood but nothing crazy just like vampires u know 🥴

———————————

A yawn broke your daze as you glance over at Wesley turning the page to some demon grimore, hand covering his mouth as he glances at Cordy filing her nails instead of the papers in front of her. This awful torture had lasted all morning and well into the afternoon, research and books and files and guess what? Even more research!!

Groaning you slam your book closed, folding your arms on top of it and laying your head down on them as you mumble out a string of profanities and grievances to no one in particular.

“Got anything?” Wesley grumbles closing his own book and pushing it aside in favor of his now cold cup of tea.

“Just a headache,” you whine. You guys were trying to find out what powers were being held inside an amulet the demon of the week was wearing. It had given him enough strength to take out you, Gunn, and Wesley, he probably would have killed you all if Cordy didn’t have a vision leading Angel to drive by and pick you up. So now he was out scouting for the demons while the research led to dead end after dead end.

“I think I might go for a walk, maybe get us coffee,” you headed towards the doors grabbing your pager off the charging dock and shrugging on your jacket.

“Oo yes! Coffee sounds perfect!” Cordelia perked up, looking at Wesley who nodded in agreement. “Two mochas please!”

You move to open the front door when everyone’s pagers go off, glancing down you all read the message from Angel. It’s a location and the name of the amulet you’ve been searching for information on.

“We can finally focus our research! This is great, Cordelia can you-“ Wesley glances over at you looking at the pager and then meeting your eyes, he instantly knew. “Y/n don’t-“

You smile, running out the front door before he got the chance to tell you not to rush in head first. You were tired of the research, it was time to meet up with Angel.

By the time you reached the location it was nightfall. There was a hidden door in the alley between a nightclub and a liquor store, a brick wall amongst the cobblestone one, and when you knocked three times it slid open. Almost too easy.

As you walked through the door slide closed behind you and various half-burned candles were illuminating the staircase you descended. Looking around the small room you see 5 demons sitting around a table, one by one looking up at you.

Perhaps you had made a slight mistake.

“Look what we have here boys,” One of them begins to say, you glance over at them and see the amulet hanging around their neck. At least you were at the right place?

The demons all move to lunge at you, but before they get the chance the one sitting closest to you stands, chair shrieking as it scraps across the floor.

“This one’s mine,” He’s at your side before you can even blink. Angel. You open your mouth to say something but his eyes warn you not to as his face contorts into its vampiric appearance and he smiles, making a big show for the audience behind you. “Scream for us now.”

You feel his teeth before you even register them pricking into your neck, body paralyzed in fear as Angel moans at the taste of your blood on his tongue. Your eyes fill with tears as your body goes cold, the demons behind you grinning as they cheer him on, yet you can’t hear a sound. It’s almost pleasant to feel it all slip away, as Angel holds you in his arms, withdrawing his teeth as he gently guides you to the floor.

“Stay here, pretend to be dead please.” His voice is a stark contrast to the one he was putting on before as he turns back the demons.

Everything after is a haze, you remember seeing him tear the amulet from the first guy and putting it on himself, before turning to slay the rest of the demons. You can feel his arms wrap around you as he pulls you against his chest, whispering apologies and sweet words as he carries you through the night back to the motel.

You wake up to a train passing by, the horn blaring you from the warm comfort of sleep into the cold of night. Your hand finds its way to your neck, gently gliding over the mark left by Angel’s teeth as your memories flood back to you. Sitting up, you quickly slid out of bed and down the hall, your hands gliding along the walls and wooden doors. You had to see him, see Angel.

213, 215, 217.

You twist the knob, finding the door unlocked as you open it. Angel is sitting in his chair in the corner, turning from looking at the window to you as you close the door behind you. You both go to speak at the same time, saying each other’s name, and he motions for you to go first.

“Angel, I-“ you don’t even know what to say. Thank you? It’s okay? I’m sorry?

“I know,” he moves from his spot by the window over to you, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you to sit with him on the foot of the bed.

His hand trails up to your neck, brushing his fingers along the marks, closing his eyes and leaning his head against yours.

“Do you wanna do it again,” your voice is soft and it snaps him out of his trance as he just looks at you mouth agape, eyes flitting between back and forth between yours. “I want you to, if you want to, but if you don’t I understand-“

His fangs cut you off as they sink into your neck again. That pleasurable pinch of teeth against skin as he laps at the blood that pools there. It’s more gentle this time, more angelic, he rubs soothing circles on your shoulder and pulls back after such a short taste.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, just the faintest whisper as his lips hover near yours. Cradling his face with your hand, your bring your thumb up to his lips swiping away the remains of your blood that stained the corners of his mouth.

It’s as if your on autopilot as he opens his mouth slightly to capture your thumb, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucks and swirls his tongue around it. When you pull your thumb free, there’s just a brief moment where the world stops turning. The air is still and you can both hear your heartbeat. Once. Twice.

His lips are on yours as it skips the next beat, hands tugging at your sides as he pulls you to straddle him. You gasp at the sudden movement letting him take control of the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and moaning as you entangle with one another. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him as his kisses trail down your cheek and neck, bruising a path leading to his bite.

You both know it can’t go further, that it’s already gone too far, but neither can let go as he pulls you in to another intoxicating kiss. You rock your hips against him, feeling his hard on pressing against your sweet spot as you continue to roll your hips and moan into his mouth. He responds with the same urgency, hands tugging at your waist as he grinds up into you, soft moans escaping from his lips.

“Angel,” your voice is a broken whimper as you continue to press into him, trying to get as close as you possibly can. You feel his body shake and writhe the way yours does as you desperately grind against one another. “Please.”

Your not even sure what you’re asking for, but he takes it as an invitation to bite down on your neck once more and he pulls you down against him, rutting up into you as he openly moans and whines against your neck, desperately sucking and biting at whatever he can find. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck and tangle in his hair pulling his head back as you both see stars, lazily falling back onto the bed and panting against one another.

“You’re not gonna go all crazy town on me now right?” Although you’re mostly joking there’s a hint of concern lacing your words as you pull back gently to look Angel in the eyes.

“I guess since my dick stayed in my pants we’re good,” he pants out, smiling down at you before his face contorts into one of concern.

You sit up, hand pressed against his chest as he continues to stare at you, “What is it you’re scaring me.”

“I fear Cordy and Wesley might think the opposite.” He gestures to the small mirror on the desk across from his bed and you rush over to it, catching your reflection your eyes go wide at the state of your neck. It almost looks like a rabid dog attacked you the way it’s covered in bite marks and bruises, no amount of make up would be able to cover this up.

Turning back around to him you offer a small smile and bite at your lower lip trying to think of a solution before an idea pops into your head and your smile turns into a grin. “I hear turtle necks are in right now!”

[waternilly]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral & ambiguous race reader, requests are open!  

a/n: this is a bit self-indulgent … I’m watching Angel’s show for the first time … and he is so just UGH

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Keep reading

[waternilly]

Pillows and Blankets | Angel x Reader

A soft tapping could be heard outside (Y/n)’s apartment window. A long and tired sigh came from her lips but she got out of her comfortable place in bed to allow her Angel into her room. With a quick step and shove of the heavy window, she was face to face with the dark and broody man.

“You know, I have a front door?” She teased.

Angel smiled softly, hopping fully into the room. “I guess old habits die hard” he mused, brushing her slightly messy hair off of her face.

“I think I can forgive you” her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into his touch. He kissed her head, then he noticed the state of her room.

“Did you have a long day?” Angel nodded towards her bed that had many piles of pillows, several blankets and a movie stayed paused on her little television. A soft grunt of a yes came from her, taking his hand a pulling him to her bed with her. Angel did not resist. He enjoyed nights like this, or at least as much as he could.

It was dangerous, this much happiness. They were careful but he was scared he would hurt her. He savored nights where he could hold her in his arms, watch movies and just act like a real couple.

He helped move the blankets and tuck themselves in. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around Angel, laying her head against him. Sometimes (Y/n) would forget that his heart doesn’t beat. Especially on nights like these. But it would only take a second for the thought to drift away as she melted into him. It was a good night for this, no worries about the end of the world or if there are monsters outside.

Just pillows and blankets. Nothing else mattered.

[waternilly]

nsfw alphabet with jill

A is for aftercare - Jill gives amazing massages - like she should’ve been a massage therapist if she hadn’t gone into law enforcement. If you’ve ended up in any strenuous positions during sex, she will 100% tend to your sore muscles. … but, sometimes these “massages” move to more intimate places on your body and that’s how round two starts

B is for body part - On her own body, Jill is honestly really proud of her own physique as a whole. She’s spent so much time training to be physically strong in the field (which helps her in the bedroom!), and she knows she looks good. On you, she is an ass woman! But also, she likes nice thighs that go along with it. Like the ass and thigh jiggle combo is a yes for her. 

C is for cum - Is hyperfocused on your pleasure, and she wants you to cum on her face. Like, when Jill says “sit on my face” it does not mean hover! It means put your weight on her! She goes to the gym for a reason. (also, she wouldn’t really mind if you kinda suffocated her with your thighs, like it’s fine with her!)

D is for dirty secret - Back in the STARS days, she bet Chris that she could get any girl and then she stole his girlfriend.

E is for experience - Jill has a fair amount of experience, average for a person around her age. She hasn't done anything super crazy, and doesn’t really do many one night stands.

F is for favorite position - I said it before, but she loves having her partner sit on her face! However, she would also enjoy fucking you in any position where she can see your face. She really loves to watch how flustered you get (and would lean down and whisper dirty things in your ear to make you get more flustered).

G is for goofy (silly or serious during sex) - Jill is pretty serious during sex, but not in a bad way. She’s just very focused on the act, really gives it her all. Also, when she’s older she really likes the intimate aspect of sex.

H is for hair - She trims it down a lot and might shave the edges (especially during summer because bathing suit season!) but she doesn’t shave it all off and hates getting waxed.

I is for intimacy - Can be closed-off, especially when she gets older (she goes through a lot obviously, so it can be hard to trust someone enough to be vulnerable). However, she really enjoys intimacy with her partner. And not just sexual intimacy, she’s definitely a cuddler. 

J is for jack off - Average amount, but she’s very efficient about it. Like, she has a routine. She’s also a believer in the shower head trick. She would get a removable shower head if she moved into a new place and it didn’t have one.

K is for kink - Light mommy kink. She probably wouldn’t punish you, but she’d want you to call her mommy, and whenever you do anything in the bedroom, she’s constantly praising you.

L is for location - Mostly at home for convenience. However, she’d actually enjoy doing something in a semi-public place. She might not go all the way, but she’d love to tease her you with a remote control vibrator.

M is for motivation - Her motivation is you. If you look hot, she wants you. It’s simple.

N is for no (what she wouldn't do) - She would not bring weapons into the bedroom. She would probably be wary about choking, and would probably not let you tie her up.

O is for oral -  Giver. 100%. Eats pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Obviously, she has experience, but she's also very passionate about oral so she's doubly good at it.

P is for pace - I think it might depend on the occasion, but I’m leaning more towards her liking it to be slower paced. If you did it at a faster pace, it would probably mean you’re going for multiple rounds.

Q is for quickie - I think she could be into the occasional quickie, but it wouldn’t be something she’d suggest often.

R is for risk - A little bit of risk can be hot. She doesn’t want to actually get caught because she’s a private person, and would worry about getting arrested if you were doing something in public. But, the thought of getting caught would be hot to her - and, so long as you didn’t get in trouble, she wouldn’t mind someone seeing her fucking her partner (cause she’s proud of you)

S is for stamina - It depends on the day. If she’s spent a long time at the gym or gotten back from a mission, she doesn’t have a ton of energy. But, on a normal day, she has decent stamina.

T is for toys - Yes, she totally has toys. If you didn’t have any, now you do. She would want to try them all out on you and see which one makes you cum the hardest.

U is for unfair (how much she teases)- On a typical day, she wouldn’t tease you too much. But, sometimes, she enjoys edging you. She would never let you go to bed without an orgasm, she’d always give in eventually, but a few rounds of edging would be fun to her.

V is for volume - She’s not very loud. She can be talkative sometimes (mostly praise, sometimes swearing too), but she doesn’t moan super loud. She likes when you’re loud - though, she’d probably tease you about it (in a sexy way). 

W is for wild card (random headcanon) - Is really good at dirty talk. She would say she’s “just okay” but in reality, she’ll whisper the hottest things in your ear while she’s fucking you.

X is for x-ray (what she's got under those clothes) - This one is hard for me because I can say “she has nice tits and a nice pussy” but there’s no such thing as ugly tits or ugly pussy! (I’m not even being performative, I’m just gay lol).

Y is for yearning - She can get wrapped up in her work, and she tries really hard not to let anything distract her. But, if you sent her a sexy text… she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. 

Z is for zzz - She has a hard time sleeping anyway, so she’ll stay up for a bit after sex, though an orgasm is calming for her, and it definitely helps her get sleepy. Also, cuddling her partner!

[waternilly]

thinking about how re4 leon fucks 🎀

ofc minors dni

we all know this man is pent up.

so its pretty desperate, intense, sometimes even needy

it’s cute, how he seems to deflate once he’s inside. the way all his stress and worries dissolve as soon as he gets you wrapped around him.

at first, his pace isn’t out of this world, but the hardness of his thrusts make you see stars. he pulls back, back, back and then slams himself back in.

his head is buried in the crook of your neck, fingers roughly gripping your hips as he tugs you down to meet his thrusts. he’s sucking harshly on your neck so he doesn’t release the sounds bubbling up in his throat, but kisses the area delicately afterwards. cutie

mostly fucks you in missionary, especially after one of his missions. he’s tired, exhausted even, of seeing so much death and basically being a government puppet. his respite is you, your body, your soul.

when he’s not in your neck, his pretty blue eyes are staring right into yours intensely. sometimes he’ll even reach up and hold your hand tightly. he tells himself it’s for you, to ground you whilst hes pounding you into the mattress, but it’s secretly for him too. you’re here, you’re his.

of course, being away from you for sometimes weeks at a time, leaves him all stored up. his pace will pick up, the lewd sound of skin slapping will grow faster, and so will your sounds. also the headboard banging against the wall… he will break your bed numerous times.

he’ll praise you, whispering how good you are for him, how good you always take him. calling you his pretty girl, his good girl, hishishis. not his to share with the government, not his temporarily, no. you’re his, and you’re not going anywhere.

when he gets close, his mouth will gape and quick pants and, if you listen closely, tiny whimpers come from him. his thrusts become sloppy, his hips and cock twitching, and he always always has to kiss you hard and wet to muffle the loud moan he makes when he cums.

most of the time, you’ll go for another round. okay, a few more rounds. a lot.

but sometimes, if you’re both too tired, he’ll clean you both up, and wrap his strong arms around you and hold you tight n’ close, almost in a suffocating way, and cuddle you to sleep. his hold leaves no room for movement, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you love him, and want to be close to him.

his pretty baby💕

[waternilly]

How would Leon react to a reader who sings/dances while fighting zombies? lol

Leon Kennedy Reacting to reader dancing/singing:

Thank you for the request! I decided to do this as Headcanon's hope that's okay! This one kinda stumped me ngl but I tried my best lol ~ Mads <3

Masterlist

It started off as you humming tunes as you wondered around the village. It confused him at first wondering why he could hear a tune and started to think he had one too many fists to the head as you both fought your way through.

Massive Side eye when he figured it out, trying to confirm if you were actually doing it

It slowly evolved into the actual lyrics and you were fighting the ganados. He could make out "come as you are" by Nirvana, you were even going as far as to do a guitar impression.

You weren't a bad singer but it didn't really help him out when a brute was swinging a large hammer at his face for the 8th time in an hour.

He spotted you out the corner of his eye shuffling on your feet as you waited for him to finish talking to the merchant, the moves he assumed were in time to the song that was playing in your head.

"Why are you dancing and singing?"

"Dunno...just nervous I guess, gives me something else to think about other than the things trying to kill us"

Then he started to understand, and found himself humming along with you as you walked through the never ending corridors.

Ashley was always constantly asking what songs you were singing as she didn't listen to the grunge style

Now on his solo missions he would find himself shuffling his feet or humming his favorite tunes as he waited for his evac, or took breaks to collect himself. even going as far to matching his fighting moves to the beats of his favorite songs

It even went as far as you both would accidentally duet each other with the humming during fights, or dancing on the balls of your feet in the office as you listened to your mission debrief

Defiantly finds it cute and develops a crush on you

Once you got badly injured as he forced you to sing so he could make sure you stayed awake as he escorted you to safety

Will occasionally give you a small twirl after a stressful boss just to keep you smiling and laughing, the sound soothing his own nerves

100% Imagines what it would be like if you lived together and did it in the kitchen as you cooked dinner with him

[waternilly]

Words of Wisdom For Fellow Writers

I've been writing stories for thirteen years, mainly fanfiction, but that's as valid and writing a full length novel, given how many words my main story alone has. (over 300k words.) And I wanted to pause to give some advice to new writers, or even writers that have been in a bit of a funk lately.

I read stories as much as I write them, but haven't done so in a while, because it feels like the amount of stories for my favourite characters has dropped significantly as the age of media changes. Hopefully, this little act of motivational speaking will remedy that a little.

Write what you want, no matter how cheesy it might seem. Yes, make your characters well-rounded and ensure they're fleshed out and interesting, but don't be afraid to experiment and come up with new concepts that YOU find interesting! Is that storyline overdone? Who cares, if you would read it, write it, because you're guaranteed to find at least one other person who would read it too!

Don't be afraid of making mistakes! My stories can range from 10k words to 100k words and even further, do you think every word is perfect? One story I've been writing for eight years ended up needing a total rewrite at one point due to some spelling errors and then a software error that caused it to get corrupted. Hell, even now, I'm still going back and fixing mistakes that I made recently! If I stopped writing because of each mistake, my Naruto story wouldn't be nearly 60 chapters long! Try to curb your need for the perfect sentence until you start proof-reading, because you won't get anywhere if you keep obsessing over that one phrase that doesn't sound right.

Imagine your story as a movie in your mind. I grew up watching anime and reading manga, so I find it easier to write if I imagine the scenes happening like a scene from a show in my head. Put in the detail you want, but don't repeat yourself, (unless its a flashback.) Actions speak louder than words, but since words are our tools, explain the actions.

Emotion makes for a compelling scene. I use music, especially sad music to help me put emotion into my writing, because if I can feel it, the audience can feel it. There are so many emotional, happy and angry scenes in my stories that were pushed on by music, and I am not ashamed to admit it. Don't be afraid to make a playlist of music you know will inspire and make you feel, because the best storytelling comes from the heart.

If a chapter seems too long, don't be afraid to split it into more chapters. While my chapters can be 10k to 16k words unintentionally when I know a chapter pushes even beyond that, I split it into two or sometimes three chapters to ensure it doesn't drag out for far too long. If I had kept up my old chapter-writing style, I'd only be 20 chapters into my Naruto story, rather than 60.

Make a habit of writing at least one day a week, and set yourself a word count limit to help motivate you! I learned this one recently, but I managed to push out a chapter I was struggling to finish within a month thanks to my goal of writing 2000 words every time I put my fingers to the keys. I also have at least three scheduled writing days a week to make sure I get work done and don't neglect my love for writing or my desire to make an original series I want to get published.

Don't punish yourself for not writing. I admit, this is something I'm still trying to do, and it is hard. But fanfictions are supposed to be a hobby, and if you have to suffer to make it work, then obviously something is wrong and you need some time to rest. Don't give up, of course, but know your limits and take time to write something else if the mood fancies you. Hell, I did this and I came back to my other stories refreshed and ready to spell out a storm on paper!

There's probably more, but this is long enough, so I'll finish by stating the most IMPORTANT tip for any writer, be it original or fanfiction centered...

Learn the difference between criticism and cruelty. If someone comes onto your story and says "You suck and your story sucks," then that's cruelty. But, if someone comes up and says "I really love this story, but the characters seem a little off here, don't you think there should be more emotion, or maybe a change of heart?" That right there, is criticism, and it is VITAL that you learn the difference. Some cruelty can come off as criticism, so try to go through each one with a fine toothed comb to make sure that you understand and desensitize yourself to the content. Criticism is never meant to hurt you, remember that and make sure you take each word with grace. Delete hate though, no one has time for that, lol.

And this is just a final word. Cherish your readers, make sure they know how much their words make your day, because if you start a project, they might be the reason you don't give up. For all my readers, just know that I thrive when you talk to me, because it makes every struggle worth it if you smile by the end of my books!

Thanks for reading... and writers? Good luck on your projects, you're amazing and as a reader, I love it when you post new content!

(And just to prove how much you need to go easier on yourself with errors, I'm not proof reading this. My OCD hates me, but who cares! I'm proving a point!)

[waternilly]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[waternilly]

康纳知道你今天过得不好，所以他要抱抱你

Connor knows that you are having a bad day, so he wants to hug you.❤️🤖️

[waternilly]

A Rom-Com Type Romance

~

Summary: Connor takes some notes from rom coms!

Inspired by: this

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 380 (its a short drabble im so sorry)

~

“What movie is that?”

You let out a hum as you looked up from your laptop, eyes landing on the tv before shifting to Connor.

“Sleepless in Seattle. It’s an old film.”

Connor tilted his head, taking a seat on the couch beside you. He didn’t watch a lot of movies but he was always pulled in by the ones you had on. It wasn’t unusual, it was almost like a hobby of yours– to put on a movie while you worked or cleaned or did any other mundane activity. He supposed you liked the background noise.

“What’s it about?”

You let out a soft laugh, closing your laptop slightly to give Connor your full attention.

“It’s a romantic comedy– A rom com. It follows a man who recently lost his wife,” You started, “His son tries to set him up with a new wife. He ends up meeting a woman who’s engaged, but she’s fallen in love with the guy.”

Connor hummed, furrowing his brows, “That seems… Messy.”

You laughed again, “Most rom coms are! But they’re cute. They give me a little warm fuzzy feeling.”

Warm fuzzy feeling? Maybe he should take some notes. It was no secret that he didn’t quite understand human intimacy. Connection with an android was just so much easier. He could pull back the layers of his synthetic skin, intertwine plastic fingers, and show exactly what he was feeling or thinking.

He wasn’t equipped with a romance program but he opened doors for you, he bought you flowers, he did the general “romantic” things!

But it didn’t feel like it was enough.

Upon rolling into the precinct the next morning, you found a quaint bouquet of flowers on your desk– Accompanied by a fresh coffee and a note stuck to your monitor.

“ ‘A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.’ “

You let out a soft laugh, looking up to meet Connor’s eyes from across the room.

“Quoting Shakespeare to me now, huh?”

“Only a nerd would recognize that as Shakespeare.” He quipped back, giving you a small smile as he approached your desk.

“Ohhh, please. You thoroughly enjoy my nerdiness.”

Connor hummed, drawing you into his side and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “Truer words have never been spoken.”

[waternilly]

Playful Banter

~

Summary: A little friendly sparring session!

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 905

~

“Oh, absolutely not!” You turned in your swivel chair, deciding that the current case on your computer was far more interesting than the android behind you.

“Ohhhh, [Name], why not!” Connor pressed, nudging your shoulder, “It’ll be fun!”

You let out an exasperated sigh, dropping your head back against your seat– to which Connor promptly leaned over you. You had to hold back a laugh because the position immediately reminded you of something out of a movie. 

“It’ll be anything but fun. No offense, but you’re literally built like a machine.”

Connor pursed his lips, “I’ll go easy on you.” 

“That defeats the purpose of sparring!”

Connor huffed, turning your chair back around to face him. He placed his hands on the arm wrests, practically looming over you. A few months ago this would have flustered you to no end and he would’ve teased you relentlessly for your rosy cheeks. Today you met him head on. 

“You’re causing a scene.” You murmured. 

“Would it help if you lost in the safety of your apartment? Wouldn’t want anyone to see, y’know.”

You gaped at him, furrowing your brows, “I’m not scared of losing!”

Connor hummed, tilting his head at you, “You sound pretty scared. In fact, I think you’re starting to cluck. Like a chicken.” 

You leaned in until your lips were almost brushing against his, “I’m going to kick your little android butt.”

–

 You had two options here. Take the offensive position or the defensive position. Connor was built for this. As an android he didn’t run out of stamina, air in his lungs, or feel even remotely tired. He’d go easy on you in the sense that he wouldn’t use all of his brute android force, but he wasn’t going to let you win. He could predict your movements faster than you could execute them. 

You could choose to go in and use up all your energy assaulting him or you could block his oncoming assault. Either way, you drew the short end of the stick. 

You took a wide stance on the mat, leaning into your back foot. 

Defense it was.

“I could turn on sparring mode and initiate false stamina.”

You gave him a look and he held his hands up in surrender, “Your loss.”

The two of you danced around each other for a moment; You bouncing on the balls of your feet, Connor flat footed and with an almost dangerous look in his eye. He was definitely seeing your vital signs right now. While yes, you were absolutely reeling about potentially losing, Connor had also been relentlessly teasing you all day. This sparring match was just the icing on the cake. 

You swallow and beckon him forward with a couple flicks of your fingers. 

He smirks.

Connor throws the first punch and you dodge, swiftly side stepping him but he sweeps his foot under your leg and effectively knocks you to the ground. 

He’s set the tone for the fight instantaneously.

You’re built pretty decently, have to be as a detective, right? But holy fuck, you couldn’t compare to the literal hunk of metal that had badgered you into training with him.

You let out a groan as your head collides with the mat. 

“Still don’t want me to turn on sparring mode?” He’s leaning over you again, continuing this trend of being so close he could kiss you. He doesn’t though. 

“Shut up.” You huffed, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you back onto your feet. 

You throw the first jab this time and he catches your fist in his hand, easily overpowering you. 

“Come on, [Name], is that all you’ve got?” He teases, tilting his head at you. That stupid piece of loose hair falls over his eyes and you’re briefly distracted by how hot he looks right now. Your eyes glance to his lips and immediately back up. 

You mentally shake yourself out of it and opt to jab your other fist into his torso, only for him to catch that one too. Connor spins you around, crossing your arms over your chest and holding you back against him; like some kind of mock straight-jacket. 

You can feel heat along your neck, his synthetic breathing, and it makes you shiver.

“Someone’s distracted.” 

You lean your head back against his shoulder, letting out a soft breath.

"Yeah. You are."

You adjust your stance, placing your foot between Connor’s legs before abruptly kicking his foot out from under him. He falls to the mat, taking you with him but he’s stunned enough that you’re able to wrestle yourself out of his grip.

You adjust yourself with lighting speed, settling yourself on his chassis and slamming his wrists to the foam. You both lay there for a moment, your chest heaving as you recover.

“Point: Me.” You say triumphantly, crossing your arms, albeit breathless. 

You’re too busy basking in your glory to notice the smug grin on Connor’s face. 

A yelp escapes you as the android abruptly flips you onto your back, pinning your wrists to the mat. All arrogance leaves your body as you meet Connor's eyes. He’s so close you can see every detail on his face. You can feel his torso moving against you as his inner-workings replicate human breath.

“Your cheeks are flushed.” He hummed, murmuring against your lips. 

“Oh my god. Are you going to kiss me or not?”

[waternilly]

I want an excuse to play around with some ideas I'm collecting on TV Tropes, and since I finished my first run of DBH yesterday and DechartGames' anniversary stream is coming up...

[waternilly]

Things to know about tagging fanfictions

Canon convergent means you follow the essential plot lines. This can be used to write a fic set before, after or during canon, but the main elements need to remain the same. Examples: character deaths, the beginning and end of canon etc.

Canon divergent means you change essential plot lines. Keeping a character who dies, alive in your fic is canon divergent. This tag is often used in combination with others such as "X lives" or "Everybody lives".

This means there is no point in tagging the same fic with both canon convergent and canon divergent. Canon convergent refers to specific plot points, not just the general universe. It is the default for fics to take place in their canon universe, unless specified otherwise.

Speaking of, these fics set in non-canon universes are called alternate universes, AU for short. These are your typical "what if they went to high-school/college/the coffeeshop together" stories.

While on the subject of AU's, I will take the chance to speak of something else than tagging. Recently in a fandom I was active in, I was surprised to see plagiarism claims. However, these were thrown around much too fast in my humble opinion. Remember that when writing for a fandom, in particular big ones, you will be working with the same characters and mechanics as potentially tens of thousands of other people. What will make your work special is the way you combine certain elements, mixed with your personal style. Countless stories have similar plots if reduced to their bare bones. Don't be offended too fast.

Now I am addressing the OC and Reader Insert writers: learn to differentiate the 2.

OC's, or Original Characters, are the ones with a name, description, back story etc. As soon as your characters has a name or a detailed description, they are an OC. No point in tagging both OC and Reader in order to get more clicks, people will just leave if it does not match what they are looking for. Also OC's are not cringe. I remember a time where Reader Insert fics were the cringiest and look at us now.

Reader Inserts are meant to remain as neutral as possible. This means no name, no description, and as vague of a backstory as possible. No one wants to read about them having "luscious, long, blonde locks" if their hair is none of those. It breaks immersion.

And if something is a necessity for the plot (example, stories targeted at short/tall/fat/skinny/white/poc readers), mention it in other tags, the summary or the warnings section depending on your platform. A quick "short!f!reader" won't hurt anyone.

And vice versa, I encourage you to specify when a reader you write is gender and/or race neutral. As there is so little work targeted to POC and genderqueer or male readers, such works are gems and you will be thanked for it (I know I have been).

Since I made a post saying we should teach the kids how to tag, here I am. Yes, I am aware of the irony of this sentence when I myself have only reached the ripe old age of 23, but what can I say, I have been in fandom for a decade. Also these are just 10 points bc I don't like to make my lists too long and they are my main grievances/pieces of advice.

[waternilly]

No Tricks (George Weasley x OC) - Part 7

Fandom: Harry Potter Ship: George Weasley x OC Word count: 1.3k Warnings: None Ao3 link: here Summary: A tattoo shop opens across from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, immediately catching the eye of the youngest twin. The intriguing owner, though well-versed in the magical world, doesn’t quite belong to it herself. As they navigate their differences, their mutual curiosity blooms into something deeper. Harry Potter Masterlist

“Georgie!”

He looked up from the accounting book on the desk before him, eyes travelling to the door that led to the shop. That was his brother’s voice.

“Georgie!” he heard again, spurring him to stand up and hurry to the front of the store.

“What’s wrong?” George asked in a hurry, brows furrowed.

Fred did not bother turning his head, still leaning on his hand over the desk. Instead he only nodded across the street.

“Your girl seems a bit down.”

“First of all, she’s not my girl, thank you very much,” he said, walking closer to his brother, “and second, what makes you say that?”

“She hasn’t had a lot of clients since she opened. Looks like she’s turned to traditional portraits as a result.”

George’s gaze travelled in the same direction and noticed Oli sitting alone in front of a tall canvas, brush in one hand and paint pots spread on a small table next to her. His brows furrowed.

“That’s strange,” he admitted.

Still not averting his eyes, Fred leaned towards his twin and stage whispered: “You should go talk to her.”

Yes. He should. He was going to before his brother suggested so. But now, he did not want to satisfy Fred’s ego and matchmaker mannerisms.

Cocking an eyebrow, George turned to him: “And why’s that?”

Finally looking away from the window, Fred furrowed his brows.

“Are you being daft right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Oli clearly likes you! Even if you insist that she’s not ‘your girl’, she’s at least your friend, yes?”

Repressing a smile, George sighed and admitted: “I suppose.”

Of course they were friends. They had dinner together five times over the two weeks since she moved in. And no matter how hard he was trying to repress certain other feelings, he knew he cared about her a whole deal. But it was too soon to openly show that to people. Yes, Fred was his twin, but ever since they moved out and he married Angelina, they had grown slightly apart. Nevertheless, he would be the first to know. In fact, George was sure he already knew.

“So?” Fred pulled him out of his thoughts.

Turning towards the window, George nodded.

“I’ll go talk to her later.”

“Why later?”

Motioning his arms as to show off the store, George deadpanned: “Because we’re working.”

“You know damn well I can man the shop alone.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

Fred pursed his lips.

“Besides, I’m busy with our accounting.”

Cursing under his breath, Fred stood tall. Sighing, he placed a hand on his twin’s shoulder.

“Stop making excuses for yourself, love.”

George opened his mouth to protest, but Fred did not give him a chance to. Leading him towards the door, he added: “It’s clear you wanna go talk to her. So just go do it. Now.”

Opening the door, he gently nudged his twin out.

“And don’t bother coming back until you’re done.”

Staring at the door, George blinked slowly then chuckled as realisation dawned on him. Fred definitely knew something.

Shaking his head and a smile plastered on his face, he crossed the street, trying to suppress the bounce in his walk. Having reached the familiar door, he knocked above the window panel in a reflex and waited with a hand in his pocket until Oli opened.

“Hello there,” she greeted, immediately walking back into her shop once she saw who it was, letting him close behind himself.

“You know you can just enter, right? This is still a store,” she pointed out with a smile.

“Of course, but it’s much nicer when you welcome me inside,” he replied, trying to be charming.

“Can I get you something?” she offered, already climbing back on the stool facing the canvas.

“No thanks,” George turned down politely. “I just came to chat.”

“As opposed to when you don’t?” Oli joked.

Stepping closer, George looked over her shoulder at the painting.

“New piece?”

“An order,” Oli nodded.

It was a landscape, most likely of the English countryside, George guessed. In the distance, a large white mansion was nestled between bright green trees.

“Some rich wizard’s country house?”

“More or less,” she sighed. “Got the oil paints out for this one.”

“Why not the watercolours?”

“Because that’s not what my client asked.”

George remained quiet, admiring the large canvas. The house and its neighbouring trees were bright, a warm yellow light bouncing off them on small, individual leaves and roof tiles. Below them, what looked like a lake was still only an indistinct mass, not yet reflecting the environment. Above, Oli was applying a cool shade of grey to white puffs against a light blue sky.

“Will this one be a moving painting?” George wondered, squinting at the trees, through which he could already imagine the wind blowing.

“Unlikely.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I never learned.”

Furrowing his brows, George turned his gaze to the back of Oli’s head.

“What do you mean?”

She put down her brush on the small table, next to reference images of the mansion and countryside.

“I’ve never been taught how to make moving paintings,” she explained, shrugging and turning the stool to finally face George. “Besides, this is for a Muggle client.”

“Is that why all your watercolours are still?”

“What do you think?”

Oli had a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but George also noticed how she swallowed with difficulty.

“Would you like me to teach you?” he offered without thinking.

Smiling with brows furrowed, Oli asked back: “What?”

“If you’d like of course!” he added in a hurry. “I’m no expert but it’s nothing too complicated from what I’ve seen.”

“Uhhh…” she looked away, opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I- I don’t know, really.”

“Oh.”

“Like I said, this is a painting for a Muggle client anyway so could you imagine him opening the delivery box and seeing a tiny version of himself waving at him through the painting, he’d probably have a heart attack or at least faint, perhaps he’d think I’d pulled his leg and sent him a screen with a video playing or something instead of a painting haha!”

Oli turned silent, swallowing and licking her lips.

“Besides,” she said, meeting George’s gaze again, “I quite like the look of still paintings.”

George smiled gently at her, sitting low on the stool, shoulders turned inwards, making her appear smaller than usual. Then, slowly, he nodded, afraid any brusk movement would scare her off.

“So do I.”

Hesitant at first, Oli allowed a bright smile to cross her face. Suddenly blushing, she looked down and closed her eyes, laughing at the spectacle she had made of herself.

George chuckled quietly, trying to not make her feel worse about the situation, but unable to help himself. He never turned his gaze from her, finding her embarrassed reaction endearing.

Without thinking, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Oli’s shoulders. Still looking down and laughing nervously, she leaned into his touch, resting her head against his chest. 

As their laughter died down, her arms snaked around his middle. She relaxed into his embrace and George looked over her wild hair tenderly, brushing it back into place. In the silence of the shop, they remained like this, peacefully, but not escaping the watchful eye of the other Weasley twin across the street.

“How about dinner tonight?” George offered.

Still pressed against his chest, Oli’s voice came out muffled: “I don’t think I’ll have the strength for another class.”

“Not to worry,” he whispered, motioning to peck her scalp but ultimately holding back. “I’ll cook for you.”

Thank you for reading! Also, I'm starting something new: a taglist. If you'd like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters of this fic or any of my other works, feel free to DM me or send me an ask :)

[waternilly]

JOSEPH QUINN as EDDIE MUNSON in Stranger Things