#(not insinuating that youre questioning my writing choices

[mrghostrat]

Pero like, what is Crowley dooooooing, dropping big bucks on styluses (styli? What's the plural here?) and.. shipping it to Azi? When did they swap addresses. Are they ~like that already? Did I miss what Crowley does for a living in the BNF Au? Maybe I glossed over it but like (insert the Crowley snake emote with the look over glasses here.) Highly enjoying all your current WIPS. I'm gonna have to read Mon Cheri soon enough. 🥳

no don't worry, you haven't missed anything. considering this is aziraphale's first time mustering up the courage to ask if crowley even has a job, he hasn't dared ask too many personal questions yet. we find out in ch5 🥰

i'm aware there are some details missing that might cause pauses and confusion (especially when it's slow releases like this; it might be a little less jarring to someone who binges it once it's finished), but i do quite like the reality of filtering in little bits of information slowly over time, and letting a whole picture fall into place after a few chapters.

like when you're talking to mates over DM, you'll refer to old conversations and jokes because you both know what's going on, and you aren't going to give full exposition before everything you say. having their conversation be a little gappy like that makes it feel (imo) like we're actually reading through somebody's chat logs, and learning about those people as we go. it's part of what makes the genre fun to me 🥰

#ask a rat #(not insinuating that youre questioning my writing choices #i just like talking abt design decisions HEH) #and TYY mon cheri is quite different but i hope youll like it #bnf au #writing process

[spockiguess]

Breeding Jealousy Part 1 || Peter Quill x Fem!Reader

A/N: This took me way too long to finish, but here’s the first part of a two (maybe three, no promises) part series. Thank you so much to Sav for helping me edit and leaving very silly comments on my Doc. I know my Quill fics are so incredibly out of left field, but my track record shows that this should actually be expected! So hah! Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me a couple of days. I’m thinking of writing a Peter x Male/GN reader, so let me know if y’all would want to see that. 

Warnings: Smut, Use of Terms like Cunt and Pussy

Pairing: Peter Quill/Female Reader

Sure, you loved being a Guardian, but it definitely came with its hang ups. Be it the death-defying dance you had to walk every time you encountered another fuckhead with god-like abilities or the sickening injuries sustained from those perilous fights, being a part of Peter Quill’s infamous group of heroic outlaws took a heavy toll most days. 

Lately, you’ve been finding yourself exhausted beyond comprehension and in dire need of release. So, after much pushing from Mantis and even Nebula, you decided to have a night where you let all inhibitions loose and finally got dicked down in the way you most deserved. 

And that came in the form of you putting on your tightest, blackest, latex dress that just barely covered your ass and smearing on the sultriest makeup you could think up all to visit one of Knowhere’s many clubs. Being a planet made up of mostly outlaws, the people knew how to fucking party. 

Excitement coursed through your veins, and you exited your tiny bathroom ready to conquer the world. 

Futuristic black heels clacked against the metal floors of your shared housing with a resounding confidence as you traversed multiple floors and staircases, purse in hand. 

You felt alive for the first time in eight months, and when you entered the common area, you acknowledged Peter–your captain and longtime crush–with a nonchalant wave, barely even bothered by the way he looked you up and down multiple times. 

“Where’re you going?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“Out,” You answered back excitedly, a wide grin plastered across your face. 

With a shocked expression, Peter muttered to himself doubtfully, “Out. Yeah, right. Out,” before he spoke up again, “So where is this out?” 

Pausing just before the door, you turned back to Peter, unwavering, “Korthax.” Peter spluttered, knocking over his drink and immediately rose from his seat. 

“You’re going to Korthax looking like that? Why?” Peter crossed his arms and you sighed knowing your fun would have to wait until Peter’s little interrogation was over. 

Deciding not to answer his question for now, you teased Peter, “Looking like what, exactly?” Peter just scoffed and motioned to your body, as if that explained everything. 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shrugged, “I’m just going out to have fun and hopefully sleep in a bed that isn’t mine tonight. Does that bother you?” 

Peter scoffed again, completely unwilling to believe what he was seeing, “Yes, actually, it does bother me.” 

This time, you were the one to scoff, “Okay, why? I’m an adult, aren’t I? I get to choose how I spend my free time.” 

Peter wasn’t having any of it and crossed the room in a few long strides, getting right in your face, “Not when those choices could put you in a ton of danger.” Peter gave his best serious face but rejoiced internally, totally satisfied with his response. His argument had practically no holes, he thought. 

“Right, because when we face off against literal gods, that’s fine. But when I want to go out, then it’s a problem. Thanks, I get it now.” You were being a little rude and extremely sarcastic, but at this point, you were fed up with Peter’s sudden interest in your personal life and how you conducted it. 

Peter short circuited, his brain literally could not think of one smart response to that. With what you were insinuating, you were right. Peter himself constantly puts you in danger, so why is now any different? 

Still, Peter wasn’t a man known for backing down against good logic, so he doubled down and got even closer, “Do you know how dangerous some of these people are? At least with the people we fight, you know what they’re capable of. Here, you’re at a disadvantage– you feel too safe.” 

You were also extremely hard-headed, so you got closer as well, your faces just mere inches away from each other, “These are your people, are they not? You banter with them, you literally call them family. And now they’re suddenly big scary monsters just waiting to take advantage of me? What a crock of shit.” 

Peter blew a big puff of air out of his flaring nose, obviously annoyed with your indignation at his abrupt prodding. Peter was backed into a corner, you were much smarter than people gave you credit for. Speaking harshly, Peter began, “Fine. You want the truth?”

You cocked your head to the side, your face sprouting a vicious smile as you rested your hands on your hips, “Yes, Peter, I’d love the truth.” 

A minute passed before Peter finally began to swallow all of his anxiety and fears regarding his feelings about you, he reasoned it was about time to let the truth flow anyway. “I like you. I mean, I really like you.” 

Peter spoke lowly, his voice a resentful whisper, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the first day I saw you. So imagine being me, seeing you, wearing that, and you’re talking about spending your night with some cheap lowlife when I’m right here. Now that is a crock of shit.”

Oh. Well, that certainly puts a dent in your plan. Well, fuck it, you thought. Taking Peter’s face in your hands, you pressed your soft, rouged lips against his and pressed your body against him, trying to communicate the utter want you’ve felt for him ever since you joined his ragtag band of misfits. 

Peter groaned wantonly, his calloused hands flying to the seat of your ass and squeezing greedily as he deepened the passionate kiss. Fireworks went off in your head. It was all finally happening. 

Peter’s tongue swiped against your lips and you opened them in hazy approval, letting him dominate your very being with not one complaint. 

Soon, you had to break away to catch your breath. A single strand of saliva kept the two of you connected before it broke off and landed on your chins. A fog of lust clouded your minds and the only thing you could think about was getting in the other’s pants. 

Peter was one step ahead of the curve though, and before you knew it, you were being hauled up and over Peter’s shoulder. With a yelp, you dropped your purse and your already short dress rode up even farther, leaving you shivering at the feeling of the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy. 

Peter noticed this immediately (you swore his brain was wired to scope out anything even slightly appealing within a ten mile radius), and slapped your bare ass, commenting, “Seriously, a thong? How desperate were you?” 

You slapped his ass in return, “Oh, fuck you.” 

“You’re certainly about to,” Peter grinned wickedly. 

Eventually, you made it to Peter’s cramped bedroom and he carefully laid you on his raggedy bed, admiring you for a long moment. Having abandoned your heels on the trek there, you teasingly ran one of your feet against Peter’s tented pants, beckoning him closer. 

Peter hastily obliged and dove in, kissing you wildly as he bunched your dress above your hips and situated himself between your spread legs. His large hands traversed your mostly naked skin before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong and yanked them down. 

You gasped and Peter took this opportunity to capture you in another heated kiss while his thumb slid through your slick folds and honed in on your throbbing clit. Moaning, you kissed Peter back feverishly, your hand coming down to grip his wrist as he rubbed your clit in slow circles. 

Breaking apart once again, Peter kissed along the length of your neck before biting your collarbone, then soothing the mark with his tongue. Your other hand flew to Peter’s hair which you grabbed a tuft of and tugged. Peter groaned, pressing against your clit harder, causing you to moan in return. 

Sliding down your body, Peter’s face aligned with your weeping cunt before he gave you a cocky look (one eyebrow arched, smile devilishly lopsided) and licked a hot stripe along your pussy, his mouth locking around your clit.

You bucked into Peter’s face and pulled at his hair even more, jerking at the vibrations his breathless moans sent straight into your aching core. Everything felt hot: your body, your soul, the very air in the room, you couldn’t focus on a single thing. 

All you knew in that moment was Peter’s eager mouth licking and sucking at your most sensitive spot with a hunger unparalleled. The action sent a blindingly hot energy rippling through you, like an electric current traveling through a copper wire, making you gasp in pleasure. 

Your fingers wound tighter into Peter’s luscious hair as you felt this energy ball up in the depths of your core and send radiating shockwaves that caused you to yell Peter’s name like it was a divine prayer capable of saving you from this sinful hedonism. 

Wetness dripped from Peter’s chin as your body spasmed and that energy finally released in a seemingly cosmic explosion that sent stars reeling across the universe. Still experiencing the aftershocks, Peter came back up and kissed you long and hard, his hand coming to hold the back of your neck.

Feeling somewhat devious, you gathered up the gumption to lock your legs around Peter’s waist and force him onto his back with a blanket-muffled thump. Not wasting a second, you rearranged yourself so that you were now sitting between Peter’s muscular legs. 

The outlaw was still wearing his faded jeans, so you made quick work of them by popping the button, pulling the zipper, and tugging both his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. 

Peter smiled widely, chuckling, “Eager, aren’t we?” You grinned, watching as his dick sprang to life and slapped against his toned belly. It was big, in both length and width, and you wondered if you’d even be able to take half of it in your mouth.

You were a trooper, though, so you took his thick cock in your hand and retorted, “Oh, I can be bored, if you want,” mirroring his actions from earlier, you licked a wet stripe from Peter’s base to his tip, locking eyes with him before continuing, “That is totally do-able.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, about to make a comeback when you hoped for the best and swallowed as much of Peter’s dick as you could in one fell swoop. 

“Fuck!” Peter cursed, his hand flying to the back of your head and grabbing a bunch of hair. 

Peter’s immediate reaction only fueled your intense desire to please and you took more of his length into your mouth, trying to stop your gag reflex the moment his cock hit the back of your throat. Curly brown hairs tickled your nose once you reached the hilt, and you soothingly rubbed the sides of Peter’s thighs before resting your hands on his, pushing down to signal that you would really like to be face-fucked. 

Peter got the memo and swore again before bracing himself against the bed. Not a moment passed before your mouth was being used like some sort of personal masturbator and tears quickly filled your eyes as Peter’s dick ravaged your throat. 

What kept you going was hearing Peter’s utterly indecent moans and achy whines as he got himself off, desperately chasing his own nearing climax.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Peter whined, head falling back against his pillow.  

Soon, Peter’s breath began to hitch and his hips pistoned into your mouth with such speed that it almost made you dizzy. Only a few minutes later did Peter finally still and pump hot cum down your throat as his fingers dug further into your hair, keeping you right in place. 

Peter cooed, “That’s right, baby, take it all,” before he finally let go of your head. Catching your breath, you wiped some of the remnants marking your lips and made a show of licking it off your fingers. Peter was already getting hard again, but seeing that made all the blood rush from his head to his cock. 

“That good?” you teased, climbing back up Peter’s body. Peter only nodded before kissing you deeply, you could taste each other’s essences on your tongues. 

Feeling beat, you plopped down next to Peter’s still-heaving body after wrangling yourself out of your clothes and snuggled closely, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. Peter decided to ignore his dick for the moment and wormed his arms around your waist, bringing you even closer. The sun began to rise outside of his window, but it didn’t matter as the both of you fell asleep within moments. 

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #gotg #gotg3 #no spoilers #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #smut #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

[bam-stroker]

Amphibious

Alright I needed a break from my other writing so @betweenblackberrybranches have a silly little rlgl drabble! Mildly suggestive things insinuated, but this is just a silly hangout time. So enjoy some movie night shenanigans questioning just what can Moon's tongue do?

“No way! No way, you can’t do that.” You scoff as you hold up your snack of choice. An eyebrow raised in challenge to the robot across from you. 

It had all started from Sun suggesting a movie night. For once all of your schedules lined up to not be stuck at work during the evening. Which honestly was very welcome after last month when there was a particularly… messy… event that the two of them were the highlight of. You still can’t look at jam without the horrors of the cleanup playing through your mind. 

All of you are cozied up on your couch, Sun in the middle. His favorite oversized cozy lounge clothes on, with your feet resting on his lap as you lean against the couch arm. Moon practically incapable of sitting in a normal way has his legs contorted in some half bent mess. A blue satin set of pajama pants and camisole. Red eyes giving you a challenging glare from across Sun’s lap. 

“What do you mean I can’t.” His voice a sneer. Clearly playing into the bit. 

You gesture the chip in your hand at him, “I’m saying no way did they make you have a tongue like that.” 

He raises an eyebrow and leans back, a sharp mischievous grin rising up, “O? So you know everything about my design?” Tongue slipping out to do a lascivious wiggle. 

Sun gives a curious look your way, hands resting on your shins, “Do you?” The statement is guarded from any real emotion pulling through. 

Heat blooms across your chest in embarrassment, “I never said that!” 

He scoffs and winks, “Obsessed, much?” Arching his back and throwing a hand on his chest to pose demurely. What a little shit.

A pillow gets quickly punted at him to knock the smirk off his face. The undignified look and squawk of surprise is enough to get both Sun and you cackling at his expense. He straightens up to angrily leer over Sun’s lap, “Rude!” 

“Only dishing what you give, Moon.” You pop a chip into your mouth. 

Sun throws his hands up between the two of you, “Hold on, hold on! I say we put it to the test?” A bemused smile on his face as he looks down at Moon. The lunar bot purses his lips and gives a glare to Sun, “Test what?” 

Sun grabs a chip from out of your bag and holds it up high above his head, “See if your tongue really can go that far.” 

Moon raises an eyebrow, “Well that’s not the first time you’ve said something like that.”

Sun rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Moon chuckles darkly and locks eyes with you, tongue slipping out to lick along his sharp teeth, “Watch and learn..” He sits up holding onto the back of the couch and takes a moment to gauge the distance between the chip held above Sun’s head and his current location. The two of you watch him silently, as if watching a cat about to pounce on a toy. Clearly this was entertainment way better then what the movie had to offer. 

He pulls his head back, arms scrunching up near his shoulders, as his internal fans kick up in speed. 

With a lunge forward his tongue is sent darting forward to reach out and nab the chip. A chorus of exclamations coming from Sun and you in response. No way! The mad lad had done it. “Holy shit Moon!” You throw your legs off of Sun to stand up and start pacing in front of the couch. He just has his hand frozen in the same position it was in when the chip had been there. Mouth open in a perfect O of shock. 

Moon smugly sits back down in his contorted pretzel way on the end of the couch. Making a point to lick his lips and smack them, “Told you I could…” 

You stop to stand in front of him. Looking down at him, “.... You’ve got a frog tongue Moon…” Voice solemnly serious. 

He grimaces, “Frog? Excuse me?”

Your mind replays the way his tongue grabbed the chip, this time picturing him as a giant green frog, “Yes. Frog Moon.” Your eyes twinkling with the realization.

Sun laughs at the look of affronted disgust on Moon’s face, “They have a point!”

He gives you both a glare, “Frogs are slimy and gross! Don’t call me that!”

Sun goes silent and suddenly looks deadly serious. He reaches out to comfortingly grip Moon’s shoulder. His voice solemn, “He’s right…” He looks back towards you, “I think he’s much more like a salamander.” 

In a flurry Moon is grabbing pillows to pelt the two of you with as you both fall into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. He was never going to live this night down. And the two of you would be sure to remind Moon of his amphibious design forever more. 

#frog moon confirmed! #rlgl au #others au #drabble #suggestive #not brothers

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

The Lair in the Woods

A/N: I meant to post this yesterday but my day got hijacked by a migraine😭 (I’m fine now but oof my weekend got away from me! I still have to finish making my Christmas tree topper…) (I did however schedule my Insta and FB posts for the week though so there’s that😎)

Warnings: Some anxiety and feelings of fear, reference to stalker, self-image issues, reference to (past) threats, confessions (of sorts)

My Masterlist | Taglist Info or Taglist Request Form | The Lair in the Woods masterlist

Civilian furrowed their brow. “What are you insinuating?”

The more Supervillain asked them, the more overwhelmed and helpless Caretaker’s heart became. They’d asked questions about their childhood, about their job, about the grocery store clerk that usually rang them up, and everything in between. Most of their questions Civilian couldn’t even answer, because how should they know if someone was watching them while they’d walked the dogs at the shelter they volunteered at or if they kept running into the same person at the pharmacy and then again at the mall when they went shopping?

“Maybe we should take a break,” Supervillain smiled warily, as if they should be the one to feel exasperated by their line of questioning.

“Was any of that actually helpful to you, or are we still nowhere near figuring out who my stalker is?” Civilian asked, their voice full of dejection.

Supervillain’s lips pressed into a thin line. They nodded slowly. “I think if we can piece some things together, like the timing of the letters and what…‘event’ we’ll call them, they correlated with, and try to discern a pattern and draw a list of suspects from that, we’ll find your stalker. They will not torment you forever, Civilian. I promise you that.”

Their savior’s words didn’t fill Civilian with any warmth. Their stomach churned with doubt.

Supervillain had asked them a lot of questions. They hadn’t been able to offer their companion many answers.

“It all just seems so random,” Civilian mumbled, leaning back into the couch cushions and resting their head against the top. “Nothing about it makes any sense to me. I’m…I’m really not that noticeable…or…well, you know. Pretty.”

Supervillain scoffed. “People are drawn to different art forms for a reason, so whether or not you’re attractive matters only to your stalker.”

“Thank you?” Civilian turned to look at them, not entirely sure if their words offered any actual comfort or if Supervillain had only offered them out of duty. But Supervillain’s eyes gleamed seriously. The lines of their face had softened with an honest expression. Swallowing, Civilian quickly added, “But I’m not a painting.”

“Who said you had to be painting? You could be a sculpture instead,” Supervillain teased.

Civilian smiled, glancing away. “All right fine. I guess my stalker likes what they see. That’s not very comforting though, given…Their letters were…I wish I could’ve burned them.”

“But it’s a good thing you didn’t. They’re still evidence, and we could use them. Writing is like another thumbprint. Everyone has their own style, so there’s going to be something there to help prove that the person we bring to justice is your stalker. That, and I’m sure we’ll find other evidence to help convict them.”

“They’re typed though. We can’t exactly compare how they cross their t’s.”

“No, but sentence structure, word choice, and spelling can all help us.”

Civilian picked at an invisible thread on their pant leg. They hadn’t thought of that.

“We’ll find them,” Supervillain repeated. “And I think I know exactly how we’re going to draw them out.” Civilian’s breath hitched, fearing what their savior was about to propose. They’d hinted at a plan forming in their mind, and if the excited gleam in their eye was anything to go by, it seemed Supervillain was ready to share it. Pausing at their panic, Supervillain offered them an assuring smile, “You’ll be completely safe, don’t worry. In fact, you’re going to stay right here, completely protected by my team of highly trained professionals and Medic. But…Well, it’s not necessarily a bad thing I suppose,” Supervillain paused, turning away from them and leaning back in their chair. “I have a confession to make before I can tell you my plan.”

“O-okay?” Civilian gripped the arm of the couch. Their muscles coiled, ready to vault them off the couch and out the door. “What is it?”

Supervillain sucked in a breath. “It’s…easier if I show you, but some people find it rather…unsettling.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to show me,” Civilian stuttered, “I’ll believe you.”

Supervillain raised a brow. “If you say so. Either way, I know you’re not going to like what I have to say because most sensible people don’t.” Civilian watched as Supervillain slowly stood from their chair and stepped away from the cozy seating area.

Encouraged by the distance they’d put between them, Civilian nodded uncertainly. “What is it?”

“I have superpowers,” Supervillain said slowly. “And not just any superpowers, I can shapeshift. So I can do this.”

Civilian watched, mystified as Supervillain’s features morphed and rearranged themselves before their very eyes. They weren’t sure if the rock in their throat was from their initial terror or because some part of them was repulsed by the grotesque display of skin and muscle rearranging themselves as Supervillain’s stature shrank, their hair grew out and changed color, and their entire appearance changed. The clothes became baggy and hung from Supervillain’s changed figure, a figure that Civilian had seen everyday of their life, every time they looked in the mirror.

Supervillain had become them.

Civilian gulped.

“You could be anybody,” they said, their mouth dry. “Even my stalker.”

“You’re right,” Supervillain said calmly, “I could be anybody, but right now I’m you.”

Civilian nodded. “So this is how you’re going to do it. You’re going to pretend to be me?”

“Yes…” Supervillain trailed off.

Civilian’s head hurt. They tried to focus, they really did. But all their mind could fixate on was the fact that a perfect copy of themselves stood in front of them, that that’s what their voice sounded like to other people, and that Supervillain had shapeshifted into them of all people.

“Close your eyes.”

They didn’t even think twice, doing as Supervillain said without question. It didn’t stop their temples from throbbing though.

“Okay.” Supervillain’s voice had returned to normal, and as Civilian opened their eyes, they were met with the sight of the figure of their savior as they’d been introduced to. Well-fitted clothes and all. “So yes, as I was going to explain, I—” Supervillain let out a heavy sigh and plopped back down in their chair. “Go ahead. Ask me anything you want.”

Civilian nearly burst, “Why that form? Is that what you really look like? Does it…” They glanced down at their lap, trying to calm themselves before they asked something insensitive.

“I like this height. It’s tall enough to reach the top shelf, but not so tall as to be noticeable and draw attention from people,” Supervillain said, amusement clear in their voice. “I plead the fifth on your second question, namely because telling you either way would risk my entire business, and no. It doesn’t hurt me. It looks worse than it feels. It’s more like…Well I guess it’s that I’m used to it. When I shrink it’s not so bad, but it can feel like stretching sometimes when I shift taller, but other times it’s like I’m pulling a muscle. The, uh, ‘joint pain’ I’ll call it because it’s sort of like that, as my bones shift isn’t fun, but like I said, I’m used to it.” Supervillain shrugged dismissively.

Supervillain avoided their gaze. From where they sat, Civilian could see how their hands clenched the arms of their chair. Civilian stared at them for a second, letting it all sink in and tried to wrap their head around everything.

“So…you can shapeshift and you run a private security firm that has a base of operations in an old ski lodge.”

Supervillain nodded slowly. They still hadn’t glanced their way. “That’s right.”

“I feel like you’re not telling me something,” Civilian said quietly. Supervillain tensed under their gaze, their eyes finally snapping to them. Civilian couldn’t hold their gaze, fearing the answer to what they wanted to ask—what they were going to ask. “Are you…I mean, I know you can’t answer this but…” They hesitated, debating with themselves if they should even ask. “Are you a hero or something?”

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit @classicplesiosaur @pigeonwhumps @heninthegarden @kaiwewi @korejon @rivalriotrenegade @alpacamelons @averyconfusedhuman @amerementdoux @istealpants @sweetpeaflower01 @theimportantbreadtraveler @spideyholland @alltimelowing Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too!

#writeblr #my writing #heroes and villains #hero x villain #hero x civilian #supervillain x civilian #The Lair in the Woods #good news: I made notes about what's supposed to happen in the next part #you know in case shit gets busy again and i forget wth i'm doing here again😅 #y'all i'm so sorry for the inconsistent updates

[araneitela]

Deception and manipulation. And quite frankly, why I disagree with fanon's vehement inclusion of both for Kafka's character. I've been sitting on this for quite a while now, and I one day want to write a much longer meta on it, but I wanted to "briefly" touch on it for the ones following me, so that you know what to expect, and well, what not to expect.

Nothing within canon inherently thus far to me, has shown Kafka to be dishonest, and it's actually one of the things that further drew me to her character as I continued into HSR, the fact that she isn't. But, I've been re-watching all of her scenes yet again today to see if I can budge myself on this, but I'm still firmly rooted in my belief that Kafka is not deceptive as people make her out to be, and if anything, I feel even stronger about this today than I did yesterday, despite actively trying to find things that would prove the opposite. All I can see, honestly, is that she actively tells the truth when on screen. This entire belief that she's anything akin to deceptive, manipulative, or dishonest is genuinely just an audience's perception that stems from the general, go-to assumption that someone who has been brandished a 'villain' bears every bad trait in existence. And the audience comes to hold that perception because it's what numerous characters on our screen seem to think (one of the earliest examples of this would be Himeko and March 7th, but primarily the latter). She has a bounty of 10.899 billion credits on her head, yes, so far that's the highest that we've seen, but we also know that the Stellaron Hunters have been closely involved with a lot of chaos that's occurred throughout the cosmos (and the other hunters do not possess the ability that she does). But we need to not interlace bad traits where they, in my opinion, don't belong.

Let me elaborate a little bit on my stance here so I don't go haywire in my tags. Also, please note that this touches on her character/dialogue and what we see within the story, her "games" such as the Jepella Rebellion touch on a different element of her character: boredom. That's for another day. Anyway, yes, I will also touch on her spirit whisper, because I know that's also a huge contender into this 'deception' theory.

The first scene that holds proper and deeper nuance that we're witness to, is when she speaks to the Trailblazer in the very beginning after awakening them. We see 'Listen:' at the very beginning, which we know is something she uses to signify the effects of her spirit whisper. Now if one were to simply take her spirit whisper, at its essence, as manipulative and that's that without taking intent and practice into account, then there's nothing I can say, but I will assume that's not the case here. Not anywhere in the lines that follow (and here are the choices), does Kafka insinuate any specific action for the Trailblazer to take, if anything, she insists on the existence of their own choice and will to 'reach the end of their story'. 'Listen' in this entire sequence is a call to attention, in the way that a person can wave their hand in front of your eyes or snap their fingers near you. The Trailblazer in this context is confused, they've just woken up and are unsure where they are, what's happening and perhaps, even who they are exactly. So the call to attention makes total and utter sense. Her spirit whisper isn't merely hypnosis, if you look at its capabilities, it can be used in various ways. Now outside of her SW, you hear the softer and more authentic tone of her voice (for those unaware of what I mean: here) when she speaks to them, and you actively see a change of expression depending on your answer to her that, quite frankly, is too genuine to me alongside the change of voice to take them in any other way than at direct face value. And lastly, she answers every question posed to her by the TB within the time constraints that they are under. Does she answer them elaborately? Not exactly, but there is quite literally, no need for it. She's not being dishonest, she's not being deceptive, she's actually being quite caring, if one dare use the word (and I do).

Second, the Astral Express visit. For starters, not once does she actively use her SW here in any capacity. She reacts to what Himeko says to her, and even entertains the 'accusations' and even gives away a bit of information that by all accounts is true, the Astral Express and Stellaron Hunters both pursue, in their own ways, the most dangerous objects of the universe. They are in some capacity, two sides of the same coin. From thereon out, she doesn't dwindle or waste any time (hers or theirs), she gets to the point of the Xianzhou Luofu, she says where it is, explains what happened, and what she knows will happen if the crew doesn't go there. She also discloses that she wants to retrieve Blade. Does she disclose the entire 'idea' of how they will end up clearing the Stellaron Hunters' reputation? No, but she has no idea on the reliability of any of them, and two (Himeko, and March 7th) seem 'hostile' towards her, and one (Welt) is hesitant at best; there is absolutely zero grounds for her to entrust them with the steps of their plan. Aside from that, the entire plan that we see unfold after that quite literally never endangers any of them, if anything, it only makes them look good, and guess who the Stellaron Hunters would owe a favor to after all of this? The Astral Express. Who would the Xianzhou owe a favor to? The Astral damned Express. The ones going on a limb here, despite having a 'script', is Kafka and the Stellaron Hunters as a whole. Point me at the genuine dishonesty or manipulation in this, and if you want to add a scoop to it, any ill-intent.

And then we get to the actual Luofu. Honestly, I need someone to tell me where she lies. Even before she ever gets captured, and they're chasing after her; right at the beginning, she literally says why the chase continues, and why she's not stopping yet: 'What a hassle, this place is too far for the diviner. See you up ahead.' Take her at face value, it's what she wants from you. Granted, she can profit if you don't (but at this point, I would beg to differ), but she's not trying to get you to believe any lie, if she was, she'd be telling one.

"Best future? Best for who? As if you'd consider anyone but yourself." — March 7th "If I said 'best for the universe', would you believe me? Best for me, naturally." — Kafka

And as much as one might want to try and rub my nose in "it" at this point, I'd like to ask what anyone is trying to rub my nose into. Again, is she not being pretty forthcoming? She's not saying more than she needs to, but that's not being deceptive. If someone doesn't ask for more information, then why should you give them... more information than necessary?

"I have no interest in the words of wanted criminals - especially those skilled in the art of manipulation." — Fu Xuan.

/shakes the bars of my cage. Yes, she uses spirit whisper, we know that she does. But again, this is an audience's perception of a 'villain' at its definition, rather than a judgement call made for one in specific. I understand Fu Xuan, of course, I do, but I'm not taking an 'in-game' stance, I'm sitting in the audience's seat and dissecting what I see.

I just, where is she dishonest? She proceeds to talk to the Trailblazer at length, and goes as far as to admit that the Stellaron Hunters are not entirely innocent. Not once is it claimed that the SH are void of any blame, she takes it, here and during the Jepella Rebellion trailer (even if, yes, it is a mock trial and she's hypnotizing them, yes, I know, "the proof is in the pudding THERE, Sae!", I'm arguing nuance, not a case of 'Kafka is always honest). Guys, she comes clean entirely. I'm starting to go feral, I know, but I just don't understand. I don't get it. /semi-tugs at hair. We're almost at the end of her scenes, and I still don't see it.

I don't understand. I don't understand. And then in 1.2, Waterscale Gorge, she stops them all from fighting, has them stand down. And when Dan Heng asks her what she did, she answers it well enough. And guess who doesn't question it upon his arrival, witnessing it? The 'hotshot General' in question: Jing Yuan.

I understand 'interpretations', but I fail to see how the massive overwhelming part (if not bordering the entirety) of fanon has such a severe attachment to this concept of Kafka being inherently deceptive, or have her whole existence shrouded therein. I don't see where this is the case. We can even look at her trailer, a Dramatic Irony, and look when she speaks at the end to the last guard in question. Some could argue that she lies to him when she offers the flip of the coin, but she doesn't. She never once actually offers him a chance to live, she never once insinuates that if he guesses correctly, that he could live, that is an assumption that the audience makes, rather than it being a choice that she actively presents. 'As for the ending, want to take a guess?' One might try to argue deception with me here, but I'd like to simply fire back: where is her deception? It only exists if you hear something that she never says, that is not something that she puts in your head; that's a choice that you make. A choice, a choice, a choice. The entire thing that she preaches about since the dawn of time when we awoke as the Trailblazer. Where is she lying? It's easy to call someone else out on something that you, yourself, create in your mind. Now do I think an argument can be made, there? Sure, for I absolutely don't make the case for her to be exceptionally and thoroughly 'transparent', but it's all about nuance. It's about, quite honestly, looking at the imagery of a spider. Where is that little quote I came across a while back— ah yes, here:

“The spider's web: She finds an innocuous corner in which to spin her web. The longer the web takes, the more fabulous its construction. She has no need to chase. She sits quietly, her patience a consummate force; she waits for her prey to come to her on their own, and then she ensnares them, injects them with venom, rendering them unable to escape. Spiders – so needed and yet so misunderstood.” — Donna Lynn Hope

An innocuous corner that can be avoided, she doesn't scheme and try to lure you into a web that would mean your destruction; more often than not, you could see it rather well ahead of you, and the intrigue is that you would walk into it almost willingly. It's alluring, it's tempting to those of curious nature that seek to unravel and explain, it's intricate, it's beautiful, why wouldn't you want to draw yourself into it? But the spider at the center is not the one that coaxes you, even if she's the creator of that ever intricate web. And yet, when you get wrapped up into it, she is all encompassing, and most don't come out alive as we see. And your fate is cruel, just like— well, fate is cruel. But is she, like Kafka, manipulative? Or is she, while you may so strongly want to believe the opposite, much more honest than you wish she was? And is that why she is cruel? Is that not the cruelest?

#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it. #[ i'm tired. i'm so tired. hi hello. i'm so mentally tired that i can't even tag ramble. ] #[ just-- have this. /have this/. i lay it on the table. ] #[ it's incoherent; it's a mess. but it's just. /sighs. ] #[ i blame aven. he told me to do it. entirely his fault. i take zero responsibility for any of this. ]

[deepspacedukat]

Compromise

This is it! The final installment of the SoC Challenge! 🥳 I know it's been a wild ride, but thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me through all this chaos! All of your encouragement and kind words have really been so uplifting, and I couldn't have made it through without you, my gentle readers!

So, a little context: this is an AU version of my OC, Kollos, when he was still a Minister of the High Command. This is not connected to any other story about him that I have written/will write. This is set in the ST:ENT part of the timeline prior to the incident with the Kir'Shara, and from what I gathered, there are somewhere between five and seven members of the High Command (four to six Ministers, plus one Administrator). That number could be incorrect, but from watching the show/scrolling through Memory Alpha casting info, this was the impression given. Anyway, enjoy this final installment of the 2023 SoC! Thanks for dropping by!

Day 31: Free Choice - Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Facial, Come Swallowing

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Entire Vulcan High Command (ENT Era) x Reader, Administrator V'Las (ST:ENT) x Reader, Minister Kuvak (ST:ENT) x Reader, Minister Kollos (OC) x Reader, Other Unnamed High Command Ministers x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Everything is consensual!!!! Interspecies sex, Human/Vulcan sex, oral sex (male receiving), voyeurism, masturbation, spit-roasting, multiple orgasms, creampie, come swallowing, facial, Vulcans becoming aroused in a completely logical manner.

~*~

Apprenticeships like this were practically unheard of. A Human student being allowed to train under a Vulcan scientist at the most prestigious academy on all of Vulcan was a first. I could hardly believe that out of all the applicants for the position, I'd been one of the three selected for this honor.

For two years, I lived and worked at the Vulcan Science Academy. T'Van, the Professor with whom I'd been studying and working, had been reluctant to participate in the program when he found out that he'd be paired with a Human student. As time passed, however, I'd proven myself to be intelligent and dedicated to my work.

T'Van pulled me aside a couple of months before I was scheduled to return to Earth to express his concerns.

"I cannot offer you an extension myself. However, I will encourage you wholeheartedly to request one from the Academy's Board of Directors. It would be...inconvenient to train a new apprentice," T'Van murmured, and I couldn't stop a small smile from stretching my lips.

"You can admit that you'd miss me, y'know. There's no harm in finding the absence of another being displeasing, especially one you've come to think of as a friend." He lifted an eyebrow at my insinuation, and to my surprise, he nodded his head.

"It would be...logical...to assume that your absence would be disconcerting. I have become accustomed to you," he admitted as he practically shoved a data PADD under my nose. "This is the correct set of forms required to request an extension. I have already affixed my signature in the appropriate places and taken the liberty of setting an appointment for you with the Board tomorrow morning."

"T'Van–"

"As you are only scheduled to be here for another two months, I trust I needn't remind you that time is of the essence." With that, he swept from his office, leaving me to ponder what exactly I needed to say to persuade the Academy's Directors that I deserved to stay.

--

The next morning came both too quickly and not quickly enough for my tastes. I said my piece with as much eloquence as I could muster, hoping that I'd done well enough to avoid an immediate rejection.

"You have some interesting theories, t'sai, and your accomplishments are not in question. However," the Vulcan in the middle of the group steepled his fingers as he spoke, "we do not have the authority to grant you an extension in this instance. Our receptionist will provide you with the correct set of forms that you will require to present your request to those whose authority exceeds our own. Should you be successful, the Vulcan Science Academy will be agreeable to your continued presence. Live long and prosper, t'sai."

The next group of officials I spoke with responded in nearly the exact same way, acknowledging my accomplishments, giving their apologies, and shunting me off to the department above theirs to become someone else's problem. After three more such instances, I was quite used to the placating words and abrupt dismissals that punctuated each of these meetings.

As my quest for an extension continued, I found more and more people looking at me in the hallways of the Academy. I had been an interesting sight to the Vulcan students and professors before given that I was a different species, but the day before my final meeting nearly two weeks later, I caught a phrase that made my eyes widen.

"...believe her next appeal will be to the High Command," a Vulcan woman said to her companion as T'Van and I walked through the hall to his office.

As soon as the door was closed behind us, I blurted my thoughts in a panic.

"What did that woman mean about the High Command?"

T'Van looked up from his desk with a raised eyebrow.

"You have exhausted all other bodies of authority. Your next appointment to request an extension is with the council of the High Command tomorrow. Were you unaware?"

After the professor's casual statement, the rest of the day was a blur. Right up until I got into the elevator in the building that housed the High Command's office, I felt a sort of detached calm as though it wasn't really me who was going to be speaking with the heads of the Vulcan government.

"You're the woman who's requesting an extension, right?" I turned to find a perky, blond woman standing next to me in the elevator. She was clearly Human, like me, and I felt a dim sort of comfort.

"Yes, but how did you...?"

"I work as a secretary to Ministers Kuvak and Kollos. My own assignment was supposed to be temporary, but here we are," she said waving a hand airily. "May I make a suggestion?"

I nodded my head, and she pulled a small bottle from the pocket of her robe.

"None of the Ministers are in happy marriages. They were all arranged for political gain or social status by their parents. Your best bet for getting that extension would be an appeal to their pride...and a little flirtation. A spritz or two of this pheromone enhancer wouldn't hurt, either," she said. "They're a tough room, but the few times I've seen them interacting with women who aren't their wives...well, let's just say they were much more agreeable with a little ego-stroking."

I accepted the spritz of seemingly-odorless liquid, and as the door opened to our floor, I couldn't help but let my curiosity rule my tongue.

"Thank you. I'm grateful, really, but why are you doing this?" I asked quietly as we walked down the long hallway toward a pair of thick double doors.

"Because, I know what it's like to deal with this planet's bureaucracy. It's a pain in the ass, and when we spoke to set up your appointment, I couldn't help but notice that you sounded a bit frazzled," she murmured as the doors hissed open.

There were a few desks in this space, two of which were currently occupied. A third stood empty to one side of the room, and it seemed to be my companion's destination. Not exactly knowing where to go, I opted to follow her. Setting my stack of PADDs down on an empty corner, I allowed myself a short pause to gather my thoughts and my courage.

Admittedly, the thought of flirting with the Ministers to better my chances had crossed my mind - Vulcans were quite attractive - but before Jana suggested it, I had dismissed that as a possible solution. Surely people in such important positions would be even more stoic and disgusted by such blatant attention?

"Alright, the Ministers are ready for you now. Good luck." How long had I been standing there lost in thought? Mentally shaking away my nerves, I strode to the door leading to the council chamber and watched as it slid open before me.

"Come in, t'sai," a surprisingly warm voice called from the center of the large room that lay before me. A tall, broad Vulcan man with graying hair stood behind a long, highly-polished desk. I recognized him as Minister Kollos from the rather hurried research I'd done the night before.

He took his seat along with the other four Vulcans, only two of whom I recognized. Administrator V'Las, a harsh-looking Vulcan sat dead center, and to his other side was Minister Kuvak. The two younger Vulcans flanking the two ends of the desk were a mystery, though. I remembered their faces, but I couldn't quite put names to those faces.

"We have convened to hear your appeal for an extension of the duration of your apprenticeship with Osu T'Van at the Vulcan Science Academy," Administrator V'Las called as he folded his hands in front of him. "You may begin when ready."

Taking a deep breath as I walked farther into the room, I launched into the speech I'd given repeatedly over the past two weeks. handing each of them a data PADD with the relevant information as I spoke, I made my statement as quickly and concisely as possible.

"Your accomplishments cannot be denied, but forgive me...it sounds as though you have rehearsed this several times," Kuvak said with a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Ah, that would be the result of having given that speech to five groups before you. Administrator, Ministers, I was hoping that, given your combined wisdom and logic, this little request of mine could be sorted out rather easily," I said giving the most attentive of them all, Kollos, a small, hopeful smile. "You are my last hope. Surely there's a way we can resolve this situation today...?"

Truthfully, I was probably being a little too obvious with my praise, but in my social encounters with Vulcans, I found that it was sometimes necessary to lay it on a bit thicker than normal. I could have been imagining things, but I could have sworn that a faint, green blush was rising in his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"T'sai, we have already heard and denied the appeals of both the other candidates from your selection pool," Administrator V'Las intoned from his seat at the center of the long table. His cold, steely blue eyes watched dispassionately as I took a steadying breath. "What makes you believe that we should rule differently in regards to your case?"

Okay. Okay, not all hope was lost. The other two apprentices were men. I was familiar with them and their unfortunate personalities. They likely came in here brimming with arrogance and puffed-up theories which had no logical basis. They likely assumed that they would be granted the extension they sought once the Ministers recognized their brilliance. I needed to use a different tactic.

"I have no logical reason to believe that I deserve to stay more than the others. I do, however, believe that this council is wise enough to distinguish between a theory concocted of assumptions and one based on solid research. Each of you gentlemen has an achievement-filled career prior to your current appointment. To accomplish everything that you have and also serve your people in so selfless a manner...I must admit that I admire your dedication," I stated, allowing my eyes to skim over each in turn. Minister Kuvak looked practically stunned. "I only hope that one day, I will be able to say that I attained even a fraction of your success, and I firmly believe that my continued apprenticeship with Osu T'Van will be instrumental in giving me the best chance at accomplishing that lofty goal."

There was silence for a long, tense moment, then came the rustling of fabric. Minister Kollos stood and made his way around the polished wooden table, pausing only a few feet in front of me. How was one man that broad? His robes were clearly tailored to hug his figure closely, but really, the further reminder of how much he towered over me made my breath hitch.

"You present a convincing argument, t'sai," he said in a voice as deep and smooth as top-shelf whiskey. "We will deliberate and inform you tomorrow of our decision."

Wait, it was over already? Throwing caution to the wind, I took a few slow steps closer to him and bit my lower lip.

"Thank you for your consideration, osu, but...is there anything more that I could do to convince you to decide in my favor?" I asked looking up at him and batting my eyelashes as my fingertips brushed lightly over the back of one of his hands. Kollos's eyes widened, but he didn't protest or move away. His jaw clenched, and his gaze darkened significantly. "Anything at all...?"

"T'sai...you needn't feel pressured to take such actions," Kollos stated, but he didn't move away. The other Ministers likely had a good view of how scandalously I was touching a member of the Vulcan government.

"We would likely rule in your favor regardless of your personal persuasion," Kuvak called, but despite the concern on his face, there was hunger lingering in his gaze, as well.

"If she feels the need to seduce us to make certain of our decision, who are we to stop her? Proceed, if you wish." Administrator V'Las posited as he leaned back in his chair. Minister Kollos's free hand turned my head back toward him and he looked somberly into my eyes.

"You don't have to do this." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the vehemence in his voice made up my mind for me. The two younger Ministers who sat at either end of the long table seemed to have no opinion on the matter, choosing instead to defer to the wisdom of the three more experienced members of the High Command.

"I want to, osu," I replied firmly, and in a flash, Kollos had spun me around, pressed my back against his front, and curled his fingers with mine.

"Are you quite certain that you know what you are doing?" Kuvak called as he shifted in his seat. "Humans are fragile–"

Kollos's warm breath caressed my neck, and a quiet moan escaped me. Any further protests Kuvak might have had were silenced and replaced with slow, hungry exhales.

I vaguely noted one of the younger Ministers ordering the whole council's schedule cleared for the next two hours.

"Is this what you originally planned to do when you made this appointment with us, girl?" V'Las called as he stood and made his way over to us. I couldn't bring myself to answer. Kollos's hands had already begun to wander, divesting me of my robes and exploring my curves as his colleagues watched. "Look at me."

Opening my eyes - I hadn't even realized that I'd closed them - I found the head of Vulcan High Command breathing heavily and palming the growing bulge in the front of his robes. Once I was fully nude between them, V'Las freed his erection and guided one of my hands to grasp him.

"Make yourself useful, then," he growled, and I looked up at him as innocently as I could.

"Wouldn't you prefer my mouth?" Both men let out a groan, and soon I was speared between them. The broad-shouldered Minister Kollos thrust into me from behind, grasping my hips tightly so I wouldn't fall, and Administrator V'Las grasped my hair, pushing himself farther and farther into my throat.

Moaning around the lok in my mouth, I fell apart when Minister Kollos rubbed my clit in quick, deliberate circles. V'Las practically shouted his release moments later, shoving himself deeper in my throat as he came.

When he finally pulled away, Kuvak appeared before me looking both concerned and aroused.

"Are you alright?" He murmured, but instead of answering, I pressed a soft kiss over his own clothed erection. After a split second's indecision, he began fumbling to free himself. Grasping his hand as I took him into my mouth, I relished the skill in Minister Kollos's fingers.

He brought me to orgasm twice more before he spilled himself. Kuvak came a moment after him, and I swallowed his pleasure. The sound of hurried footsteps made me open my eyes. The two youngest Ministers, who had until a moment before been stroking their lengths to the show before them, now stood in Kuvak's place and groaned as erupted.

Hot ropes of their come splattered across my cheeks, and after a few quiet murmurs of gratitude, it was over. Kollos helped me to my feet, handing me a cloth to clean my face. I was attempting to replace my clothing in some semblance of the order it had been in prior to our tryst when V'Las spoke.

"T'sai, I think I speak for all of us when I say that should you need any other requests granted in future, you need only come to us and we shall ensure that you are not refused," he paused, "assuming that we have more sessions like today's, of course."

Kollos laid his hand lightly on my shoulder.

"You are not obligated to agree to that. We would grant your requests whether or not we repeat today's activities," he said with a glance of reproach at the Administrator.

"And you will receive your official extension notice this evening," one of the two younger Ministers called.

"I appreciate your concern, Ministers, but I'd be more than happy to come back do this again," I replied. They all seemed rather pleased to hear that.

As I made my way back toward the elevator, a familiar head of blond hair appeared next to me. Jana looked like the cat who got the canary. Clearly she'd guessed what happened.

"I'm just going to assume you're getting that extension. So...knowing how much the Ministers appreciate a steady routine, should I set up an appointment for the same time next week?"

~*~*~

Vulcan Words:

t'sai = lady (title)

osu = sir (title)

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Entire Vulcan High Command x Reader #V'Las x Reader #Kollos x Reader #Kuvak x Reader

[venus-haze]

All Shook Up (Austin!Elvis x Reader) Part 2

Summary: Your and Elvis’ date doesn’t go as planned, drawing the media attention you were trying to avoid. With the release of your duet following soon after the media circus, the success of the song and increasing tabloid speculation make some people see dollar signs, rather than romance in the air.

Note: The reader can still be read as gender neutral as of this part. Thank you all for the support for the first part of this series! I know I have a million others I’m working on, but this one has been a lot of fun to write. Please do not interact with my blog or posts if you’re under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: None.

Part 1

After Elvis and the Colonel had left, Ray and Jeanne were kind enough to let you rant and rave to them about the nerve he had to make insinuations about you and your personal life. Ray asked you again if you were sure about wanting to collaborate with Elvis, promising he could find you another up-and-coming artist to do the song with you, but, out of spite for the Colonel and genuinely liking Elvis, you remained firm in your choice of a duet partner. 

When Jeanne had brought you back to your apartment later that night, she let you know that your schedule for the following day would be short, with meetings in the afternoon and a promotional radio interview around 4pm. Just as you figured, you’d have the evening free to spend with Elvis.

For once, you had a morning to yourself and savored every moment of sleeping in two extra hours and actually having time to make yourself a nice breakfast. Just as you were about to bring your food out to the balcony, the buzzer for your apartment rang, and the doorman, Bill, informed you of a delivery that had arrived with the morning newspaper. You let him know to send it up, and racked your brain for what could have been sent to you. Sometimes companies would send you free merchandise, hoping for celebrity advertisement, but those usually went to the label’s office.

You opened the door to find a bright bouquet of flowers next to your paper. Bringing both items into your apartment, you set the flowers on the kitchen counter and read the card that was attached.

Dear Y/N, 

Thank you for yesterday. I hope these will do until I see you tonight.

E.P.

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. It was sweet, especially since all you’d done the day before was get a rough version of the song together and talked afterward. You normally didn’t think too much of it when you went on dates with other celebrities, but something about Elvis excited you the way no one else had.

Putting the flowers in a vase, you kept looking at them throughout the morning. When Jeanne stopped by around eleven to get you, she smiled when you told her who they were from. The rest of the day flew by, with your radio interview to end the day. It went well, mostly just some softball questions from a DJ who regularly played your music. When he asked about your upcoming album and hearing about last minute changes being made to it, you teased the collaboration, not explicitly mentioning Elvis, just that you’d be working with a newer artist–someone controversial. You refused to give more details, knowing the mystery would add buzz prior to the song’s announcement.

Ray had gotten the label to agree to make it the lead single for your upcoming album, meaning its success would make or break the album sales as a whole. It still wasn’t officially announced yet, and you knew Ray was spending part of his day getting contracts and scheduling worked out with the Colonel. 

The interview ended, and you made it back to your apartment by five, giving you an hour to get ready for the date. You picked an outfit you knew you looked good in. Sure, you weren’t trying to attract any media attention, but you sure as hell wanted to attract his. After checking over your appearance for what felt like the millionth time, you looked at the clock. It was already a few minutes past six. 

If he had to cancel, you would’ve at least expected him to have the decency to call. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you waited a few more minutes, and your intercom buzzed. You jumped up to answer it.

“Y/N, Mr. Presley’s here for you.”

“Thanks Bill, let him know I’ll be down in a minute!” 

You made your way downstairs to see Elvis standing near the back entrance of your apartment building, shifting from leg to leg every few seconds.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Elvis apologized as soon as he saw you. “Things got held up while I was recordin’ for this TV show. I got here as quick as I could.”

“I get it, trust me,” you smiled, giving him a hug. “The flowers were lovely, by the way, thank you.”

He returned the hug, visibly more relaxed. “I’m glad you liked them.” 

“The drive to the restaurant should be quick. I figured it’d be better for us to be driven there than try to go ourselves,” you explained, leading him over to the car that was waiting outside.

Elvis nodded. “Sounds good.”

You hadn’t been lying, the drive to the restaurant was quick, though he spent most of it staring out the window as the bustling city passed by. The place was a real dive, with its exposed brick walls and dim lighting obscured by the cloud of smoke that hung in the air. Everyone seemed to speak only in whispers, the loudest noises being the occasional clinking of wine glasses or scraping of utensils on plates. Even the music was subdued, and Elvis figured this was the kind of place where people went if they wanted to go out but not be seen.

You handed the host a twenty, “The usual table, please.”

“Of course,” he nodded, slipping the bill into his coat pocket. 

Elvis leaned down, whispering to you as the host led you to a secluded table in the back of the restaurant. “You gave him twenty dollars?”

“Why not?” you said, thanking the host as you and Elvis were seated.

A waiter immediately came by with a bottle of complimentary wine, courtesy of the restaurant owner, who waved to you from the kitchen door. You lifted your empty glass in acknowledgement, but noticed Elvis shift uncomfortably as the waiter poured the wine.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, placing your hand on his forearm.

“You know so many people,” he said, mumbling an awkward ‘thanks’ to the waiter when he left to let you two look over your menus.  

“I’ve been at this for a long time.”

"So, got any advice for someone green in the music business?" he asked, a bit of laughter in his voice.

You hesitated to answer with the witty remark he was expecting. You liked Elvis a lot, more than you reasonably should for someone you only just met. You thought back to the musicians you’d befriended only for their fame to be fleeting, drinking and dancing one weekend and disappeared another. Elvis had too much talent to be a one-hit wonder, but his inexperience made him a prime target for anyone looking to make big bucks off of him.

"You have to be careful who you trust. This industry is cutthroat, and there are people who want to take advantage of you, bleed you dry," you said. "When you’re famous, you’re not a person anymore—you’re a commodity. That’s all some people will see until they can’t get anything else out of you."

He nodded slowly, before taking a swig from his glass of wine.

"I’m not saying this to scare you, but you need to look out for yourself."

"I got the Colonel lookin’ out for me. He’s done a lot to help my career already," Elvis said.

You nodded, though that wasn’t what you had said, he needed to look out for himself. As much as you trusted Ray and Jeanne, you liked to look over your contracts and finances every so often, just to be safe. You didn’t like his manager, maybe because he made all those assumptions about you upon your first meeting, but something about him seemed off.

“Speaking of, where’d you tell him you were going tonight, anyway?” you asked.

He grinned. “I didn’t.”

“Sneaking out to see me, I’m flattered,” you giggled.

The rest of the night continued like this, the two of you flirting in the privacy of the restaurant. He went as far as to kiss you while you were waiting for dessert, his lips soft, sweet and flushed from the wine you’d been drinking. 

“Can I take you out again?” he asked softly, his lips hovering just above yours. 

“Yes,” you answered, closing the gap to kiss him yet again.

As the week went on, you and Elvis worked on recording the duet and getting photos taken in preparation for promoting it. You’d spend late nights in the studio together under the guise of working or would call cars to bring you to your secluded dates in dingy bars and restaurants. You loved the thrill of it all, but you especially loved being with Elvis. 

The two of you would call each other at all hours of the day or night, having similar schedules with meetings and interviews. You tried not to think about what would happen when Elvis inevitably left New York to go back to Memphis. He’d admitted to you that the city was overwhelming, but you were the best thing about it. 

When you grabbed the paper the morning that the single was released, you felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your face. While not the headline for the day, prominent bold lettering read The Raunchy Romance of Rockers Y/N and Elvis - EXCLUSIVE on page 6. Frantically flipping to the first page of the story, you were assaulted by photos of you and Elvis on your first date, and your second one, and you bringing him up to your apartment through the back entrance after said second date. 

‘What started as a musical collaboration between the rock n’ rollers became an affair of passion as the two worked closely together. A verified anonymous source told us that Elvis and Y/N have been spending late nights in the studio together. When they’re not sneaking around restaurants and bars like a couple of teenage hoodlums–’

You couldn’t bring yourself to read anything past that. You slammed the front door shut, collapsing onto your couch. They’d been sitting on the story for at least a week and only waited until the single’s release day to publish it. Your own career was one thing, but so many people wanted to see Elvis fail, you’d feel guilty as hell if you played some role in ending it before it began.

The phone rang, and you jumped before hesitantly picking up.

“Hello?” you asked tentatively.

“I don’t know why I keep doubting you, Y/N. You know your stuff when it comes to the charts,” Ray said cheerfully. 

“What are you talking about, Ray?”

“It’s only been out for a few hours, and it’s already number 10. By the end of the week it should be top of the charts–”

“Number 8 now,” you could hear Jeanne shout in the background.

“Shit, by the end of the day even. Congrats.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the papers Ray? All that stuff about Elvis and me, you aren’t mad?” you asked.

“No, obviously this publicity worked out in your favor, but I’m most concerned about this ‘verified anonymous source’. I’m going to ask both labels to investigate,” he said. “I’m getting more security at your apartment too, since people know there’s a back entrance now.”

You sighed. “Okay, thanks, Ray.”

“Jeanne’s leaving soon to pick you up. The Colonel demanded we squeeze him and Elvis in for a meeting today, so prepare yourself, ‘cause I can imagine he’s not as happy about things as I am.”

“Alright. See you later,” you said.

A headache began throbbing in your temples, and you got aspirin from the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you considered everything. You weren’t sure how long you’d spent lost in your own mind when there was a knock at the door. Shit. Jeanne was here, and you were still in your pajamas. She looked exasperated when you answered the door.

“Y/N, you aren’t even ready to go?” Jeanne asked.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where my head is today,” you said. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

“You’re worried about Elvis, aren’t you?”

“Do you think I’m stupid to like him so much?”

“If I’m being honest, I like him a lot more than anyone else you’ve dated.”

You nodded, “Thanks, Jeanne.”

Wasting no time getting ready, you were out of your bedroom and heading to the lobby in about fifteen minutes. When you’d walked outside your building, you were shocked at the people holding various newspapers and tabloid publications, asking for your autograph on the stories about you and Elvis. You’d never seen a reaction like this to any of the other relationships the media reported on. People must know it’s true this time.

You were silent on the way to the label’s office, resisting the urge to chew on your nails. You and Elvis had promotional appointments booked through most of the day but depending on how the meeting with the Colonel went, they’d either go smoothly or be the most awkward thing you’d ever experienced. 

As soon as you walked into the conference room, Ray gave you a look that made you know to prepare for the worst. Elvis had a lovesick expression in his eyes as you sat down next to him.

“So, the cat’s out of the bag,” you said, breaking the silence and maintaining a facade of unapologetic confidence.

“Y/N, I told you my boy does not go on dates, and now every media outlet in the country is claiming he’s been canoodling with you for weeks! His image is in shambles because of you!” The Colonel raged.

“Colonel, don’t take this out on Y/N. I was the one who asked ‘em out. It was my decision,” Elvis said.

“Did you not consider your career for a second, my boy?”

“Of course he did,” Ray interjected. “The single’s only been out since this morning, and record stores are already selling out of it. I’m getting calls from radio stations begging Y/N and Elvis to come on for interviews. The public loves celebrity couples.”

The Colonel narrowed his eyes at Ray. “What are you getting at?” 

"We can make this work, for both parties," Ray said. "Lucy and Desi own television. People flock to theaters to see Bacall and Bogart or Leigh and Olivier play out their real life romances on the silver screen. It appeals to the sense of voyeurism, being able to feel like they’re getting an intimate look at something off-limits. Y/N and Elvis can be that for music.”

The room was silent yet again, until the Colonel began nodding in agreement with Ray. “Yes, well, you do make a good point. However, if Elvis and Y/N were to date, whether in reality or for publicity, it would certainly no longer be reported on as ‘raunchy’. You two will be a respectable couple, no sneaking around bars or going up to apartments at 2 o’clock in the morning.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. We wouldn’t have had to sneak around if you weren’t such a pain in the–

“‘Course, Colonel,” Elvis said, taking your hand in his. 

Ray and the Colonel spent the next few minutes crafting an acceptable romantic backstory for you and Elvis, something that would be palatable for most audiences and explain away the late-night rendezvous. It took all of the excitement out of the relationship’s origins, but if it meant you and Elvis could date, you supposed you’d go along with it.

“So, how does that sound?” Ray asked.

“Time to break some hearts with these next few interviews, huh?” you said, looking at Elvis.

He grinned. “Guess so.”

Taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @spideysromanoff

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis prelsey x reader #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis

[finniestoncrane]

No anon, we die like men.

Hullo, hullo! I love your blog so much, and I saw your 500 follower prompt list! Congrats!

So here are the emojis; 🎃👀⚪️💔🟤

I had to think on this for a bit lol. Any Scarecrow of your choice, whoever you think fits best! Also, afab reader, but gender neutral pronouns would be appreciated. I have forgotten what else you told us to add, but I think that for 🟤 it would be said by reader? If that's against the rules, feel free to ignore that part! I just love your writing lol, I think you do Scarecrow and Riddler so well.

Frustration

general!scarecrow x gn!reader/stuck together in a small space we love a strong commitment to simpery over here, and this request is perfect and wonderful and also i think sort of general jonathan works best here 💚 minors DNI!! 🔞 500 words, cw: flirting, kissing send me a request • kofi link • minors DNI • tag: finnie500

In retrospect, it would have been wise to try and find another place to hide from the looming presence of the GCPD on your tails. But you panicked, worried that you didn’t have enough time to find another spot. So Jonathan would just need to accept it. Which he was having a surprisingly hard job doing.

“Look, I’m sorry, but at least this way we know the other one hasn’t been caught!”

“And if they happen upon the lab and find us, then we’ll both be taken in, and there won’t be anyone to preserve my experiments, to carry on the work until the other can get out.”

“Huh…yeah. That’s…”

“Please, just be quiet.”

He shifted from you, back against the wall, your body pressed into him, no escape from you.

“Would you like to…discuss the latest batch of toxin?”

“I absolutely would not. Shush.”

“We could play a game of I Spy!”

“In the dark?”

“Hmmm.”

He let out a dry chuckle.

“You know, for someone so smart, you surprise me with your stupidity sometimes.”

“I’m glad I can still surprise you after all this time.”

He laughed again. You were lucky you could do that, it had saved you from being reprimanded, or worse, on more than a few occasions. And it was such a pleasant laugh he had, when he let himself be happy, supressed the urge to maintain his façade.

“You annoy me so much, it’s almost gone full circle.”

“Does that mean you like me, Crane?”

He said nothing. You didn’t think he would. It would be too much to ask for him to admit any feelings for you beyond vague respect and gentle appreciation of your assistance. You instead had learned to live with his faux sardonic sentiments, taking them as statements of his adoration, whether they were intended that way or not. And riling him up was the best way to get him to utter those sweet notes of sarcasm that filled your heart with warmth.

“So, I get an intense, personal audience with the great Doctor Crane, no distractions around him and I’m not even allowed to talk?”

A deep sigh, his breath warm on your cheek, close enough to you that it warmed your face. You rested your palm on his chest.

“I suppose there are other things we could do in silence…what do you say?”

You spoke with a giggle, almost a mocking tone. Trying to get a rise out of him. Though you could feel his heartbeat rising with your suggestive touch, he pretended there was no interest, that he had no idea what you were insinuating.

“You’re very…I can’t believe no one has killed you yet.”

You leant in and pressed a kiss to his lips, just light enough that you could make out his features.

His lips tasted of stale coffee, cigarettes, and yet you lapped at them, savouring it. He pulled back, clearing his throat before he spoke.

“How much longer do you imagine we might need to stay in here?” He questioned, trying to calculate in his head.

“I’m not sure, but I hope we have a little bit longer together.” Another kiss to his slightly open mouth. “Is it wrong that I’m enjoying this?”

#finnie500 #finnie writes #scarecrow #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #scarecrow x reader

[timotheechlamett]

GOOD GIRL PT. 2

PT. 1

WARNINGS: implied smut, insinuating to smut, fluff (kinda), awkward Timmy

—-———————————————

It's been over a two weeks since I had her.

My mind wanders to when I was running my fingers across her soft skin, capturing her eyes in mine, since I had her moaning and whimpering my name, begging for it.

There she was, sat across the room paying me no mind, like it never happened. It only took one time for me to crave her, and I was the one who started it.

Her head turns slightly as she holds my stare for a moment. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth with a smirk. I look down at my desk withholding a smile.

I try to focus on our professor's lecture, only to have my thoughts run back to her.

The image of her soft, plump lips on mine sent electricity through my veins, how her mouth tasted on my tongue — I swear I could taste her strawberry chapstick on my tongue.

"That concludes today's lecture, please remember to read chapters four through six!" The professor belts out. I see her figure make its way toward the door.

I rush out of my seat jogging into the hallway trying to find her through the crowd. Finally spotting her, I reach out for her.

"Oh, Timmy-" She gives a small smile, turning to face me when I grab her wrist, “Hey are you busy tonight?" I interrupt, "No, not at all." She smirks.

“Well — Would you — Uh,”

Why the fuck am I lost for words now??

“Would you be interested in going to this party? With,” I clear my throat, “With me? Tonight? It starts at 10 but-” I run my thumb over the top of her wrist.

Smooth.

She cheekily friend before cutting in, “I might be interested.” She drops her gaze to my lips and backs up, “Maybe I should give you my number, you know? If I’m gonna go, you need it.” She drops her gaze to our connecting limbs briefly, so briefly I think it wasn’t real.

“No, of course, let me just,” I let go and shuffle through my backpack to get a piece of paper, dropping a folder in the process, I hand the ripped paper and pen to her.

What the fuck is wrong with you Timothée?

“Turn around real quick?” She more so tells me than asks. I oblige.

She writes down her name, number, and dorm room down on it, “I’ll let you know when I’m ready,” She hands it to me, “So you can walk with me there.” She takes a couple of steps past me and turns, “It’s the least you can do.” She smirks before turning around past the corner of the hall.

I have a fucking date. A date with Y/N. Holy shit.

——

I throw on a Gorillaz tee, some jeans, and converse, scrunch my hair a little, before spraying a couple spritzes of cologne before I wait for her beckoning call.

10 PM passes into 10:30.

10:40 PM and I finally get a text.

‘I’m ready (:’

I smile, locking my phone and heading to her dorm. I knock three times, shifting my weight on my feet.

“Hey,” She smiles as she opens the door. Her jeans hug her curves perfectly, the top she has on shows the top of her cleavage, her hair is pulled into a half up style.

“I figured we could pre-game before we set off.” She moves to the side, letting me in.

“That’s actually brilliant. I didn’t think of that.” I chuckle, stepping over her threshold, standing at the entrance as she closes the door.

“Make yourself at home! Dark or light?” She questions.

“I think dark tonight.” I make my way to the couch and rub my hands across my jeans after sitting.

“I’m game.” She calls from the kitchen.

Why am I nervous? We have literally already fucked.

Be your confident self, why are you nervous?

“Here we are.” She drags out the last word before sitting a mason jar shot glass in front of me, “Cheers!” We connect glasses before downing our respective liquor choices.

She puts us both another shot. We drink them, she repeats, I take in my surroundings.

Polaroids of her and her friends are strung up on the wall, various plants are scattered around, an impressive candle collection is lined up on the entertainment station, and it smells like vanilla and raspberry.

We take our third shot. I check the time, ‘11:11'

“Oh make a wish!” I shake her leg, “It’s 11:11.” She closes her eyes, I follow.

I open mine before her and drink her in. I can tell she put effort into her appearance, even though it’s unnecessary. She looks absolutely ethereal. She always looks ethereal.

She opens her eyes and I can’t help but smile, “That was a long wish.” I tease.

“I had to make it count.” She smiles back.

That damn smile.

“You ready to get going?” I stand.

“Wait, there’s a real party?”

I look down at her with a confused face. “Well, yeah, I hope it’s a real party. I would be disappointed.”

“Oh — I, I thought,” She gets quiet, “I thought it was an excuse just to have sex.” She looks up at me.

I’m lost for words, “I just thought that you didn’t wanna just say it,” She looks down again, her leg starts bouncing, “I’m sorry did I just make this awkward, I just made it— “

“Y/n.”

Her eyes bore into mine. “I didn’t ask you on a fake date. I certainly didn’t expect anything from you after the real one.” I sit next to her, “There’s really a party and I actually want to take you.” I place my hand on her leg once more.

There’s only silence as we stare each other down. My thoughts run wild.

She thinks I’m a complete prick.

Why did I let my hormones take over me?

Jesus, I made a dick move.

Why is she so quiet? She’s been quiet for a long time-

“We can always just go to the next one,” Her hand overlaps mine, I hold my breath“There’s gonna bee plenty of parties,” She looks to my lips back to my eyes, “Plus, I think we could have a better time.” She moves from my hand to my upper thigh.

No fucking way.

“We can have fun together here, right?” She whispers.

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #lil timmy tim #timmy chalamet #timothee #timothée #chalamet #timothee chalamet fic #elio cmbyn #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet being a sex icon #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet one shot #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet smut #celebrity smut #timothee smut #timothee chalamet x fem oc #awkward!timothee chalamet #timothee x y/n #smut fanfiction #smut fic

[areseebee]

61 & 62 for Smoke Break

(in reference to the fan fiction writing ask game i posted earlier)

61. In [insert fic], what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

my favorite smoke break scene to write was probably the drunken kiss outside of michelle's flat in chapter 2. ooo and then i also loved writing erin watching james's t-shirted back in the dark afterwards when she's trying to sleep. just that whole night in general i loved writing, including the ensemble conversation when they first get to michelle's.

i'm pretty sure the drunken kiss was the first scene i wrote, actually. the actual writing of smoke break (not just the idea) came from me imagining a muggy, warm night where they manage to get each other alone after a couple of weeks of flirting and spending time together. one of the best kinds of night where it feels like maybe just about anything can happen. the rest of the fic was built around this scene, and i just had a really great time with it. it felt like magic happening inside of my brain.

62. In [insert fic], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included? Why did it get cut?

there's a sort of deleted scene of mary questioning erin hanging out with james so much, but i ended up cutting it because it didn't really lead anywhere. it was sort of funny, but it wasn't doing what i needed it to do at the point i was writing it, and it didn't make sense at other points in the story. i'll put it below under a cut for those interested!

beyond that, no real deleted scenes but let me tell you, i wrote SO many end conversations for james and erin. i think there are like six or seven versions, and all of them more angsty than what i ended up choosing to do. in the end, i made the choices i did because i was hoping to leave them in a place they could build back from.

mary and erin deleted scene from smoke break:

It was morning and Erin was mid-bite on a piece of toast when her ma leveled her with a narrow-eyed look and asked, “Were you going out with boys this much while you should have been studying or, you know, working?”

“Boys? It’s just James, Mammy,” Erin spluttered at the insinuation. “And we’re just going to see a film.”

James had called her first thing that morning to ask if she wanted to catch an early matinee of Notting Hill before her evening shift and she hadn’t even thought twice before agreeing. He’d been back a week and they’d spent at least some part of every day together. If he wasn’t sliding onto the same barstool at Boar’s Head day after day in the late afternoon, he was stopping in for breakfast – her ma was always happy to see him then, Erin had no idea where this talk of “boys” was coming from all of a sudden – or he was tagging along for errands, or they were renting a film or going out with Michelle.

“Aye, I’m sure that’s all it is,” her ma said back, giving her a suspicious look. “You’re not to be inviting him up into your room, you hear me?”

“Did I even ask? I just said we’re going to watch a film,” Erin huffed before repeating, “It’s just James.” Almost on cue, the doorbell rang and Erin said quickly, “I’ll get it!” just to be able to leave the embarrassment of the conversation her ma was attempting to have. She didn’t get the point of this sudden scrutiny at all.

“Hi,” James said, smile on his face and hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, when she opened the door. She waved him in with the piece of toast still in her hands and followed him back into the kitchen.

“Hi Mrs. Quinn,” James said brightly as he walked in, and Erin could not have rolled her eyes harder at how quickly her ma’s face turned soft and sunny.

“Hello, love. How are you? Have you had any breakfast yet? Or maybe you’ll be wanting some lunch? It’s still breakfast for this one, with how late she wakes up.”

Erin slumped sullenly against the kitchen counter and finished her toast in silent response.

“No, thank you. Already ate,” James said politely.

“Cup of tea then?” her ma persisted.

“Thank you, Mrs. Quinn, but no,” he said, giving her ma a smile. Erin mouthed suck up at him behind her ma’s back. “We should probably be leaving if we’re going to make the 11:30 showing. Are you ready, Erin?”

“Aye. I’ll be back before work, Mammy,” Erin said, grabbing her jacket from where it hung on the back of and slipping it on.

“Enjoy yourselves. Make good…choices,” her ma called after them as they walked back to the front door, and Erin shot her an exasperated look. Jesus, the sooner they could just get out of this house…

When Erin finally closed the door behind them and began walking in the direction of the cinema, she let out a deep sigh, “I cannot wait to have my own flat.”

“What was that about, in there? Are you making bad choices?” he asked laughingly.

“Ignore her. She’s being daft,” Erin said, rolling her eyes.

#ask game #smoke break

[storiesofsvu]

3, 13 and 19 from the weird questions for writers please 🤗💖💕💓💞💘💕

3. what is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

ideally; it's sitting on the couch, playlist going, glass of wine or two to help the imagination flow. bonus points for rain and a nice candle burning.

it's cursed because in reality: i stare at an empty word document while daydreaming out the plot first if it's not outlined, the playlist is the right playlist but somehow the vibe isn't right, and we say it's wine for the aesthetic when it's really white claw. It's also cursed becuase the SECOND i'm done writing a something i MUST POST IT. and i need instant validation or i get no motivation to continue on.... LOL.

13.-- answered this one already! basically anything that's a sensitive subject that i don't know much about (ie, ive gotten req's for a yn with a chronic illness) also male yn's, cause i am very female. (in terms of smut mainly)

19. choose a passage from your writing. tell me about the backstory for this moment. how you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

hmmm...okay...im just gonna go with a whole story instead of a passage cause that's just easier.

Classified Affairs: originally supposed to just be spicy smutty heather x yn featuring Becca. Like, lots of expensive dinners, fancy hotels, probably a nice tropical sex filled vacation. No politics, no Jackie. OG plan was that yn would admit feelings, Heather would be all "dont be ridiculous, i can't just leave my husband. maybe you should take a couple of days to see if you can still handle this." yn actually DOES go on a legit date with Becca, though absolutely nothing but a kiss on the cheek thing kinda happens. then the reveal that becca was heather's kid comes up and yn has a choice to make.

BUT then i just dove headfirst into this universe and decided I wanted heather to be a little bit more insane and toxic, and I really didn't like the insinuation that yn had dated both mom and daughter, it made me feel ick so i said fuck that, and reworked it to the besties thing and becca needing a fake gf for her bro's bday party. and then things just kept snowballing, we realized just how far down heather could go, and i needed her at rock bottom and went "WAIT....what if i kill jordan? i could definitely kill jordan...."

and now it's a goddamn trilogy that's getting a prequel and maybe even an alternate timeline for the third installment....

thanks for asking!!

[meraki-yao]

do you think it might affect them...the shippy stuff...i also read rps and kinda ship them but i remain within the factions of tumblr anonymity or if im reading fanfic then noone knows that..i dont comment insinuating anything anywhere where they can see but i do always sometimes wonder if it affects them....especially from a pr perspective i have seen that during promo or even beyond that pr agents do use "bromance" (i hate that word) as a part of promo...its visible with paul and andrew for all of us strangers, or barry and jacob for saltburn or jonathan and matt for fellow travelers or even jake gyllenhaal and tom holland when spiderman : far from home came out.....so from pr lens i always wonder how much is welcomed and how much are they affected by it....because yes pr definetely use that but with rwrb we never got promo but fans still stick to them even now so i always wonder

Well... it depends. And I will say this now, there is definitely someone out there who's more familiar with PR and how the industry works, but here's my two cents from my understanding and experience.

Yes to some degree, the shippy stuff is part of promo/PR. It's a lot more blatant and default in Chinese/ East Asian entertainment industries, and holy shit I could write a dissertation on that, but yeah.

But, and please do correct me if I'm wrong, I feel like there's a little more degree of freedom/choice in the Western industry when it comes to how much they do and to what extent. I also do believe that genuine friendships can be formed. So it really depends. I mean, in a way PR/promo is exactly what happened to firstprince.

As for the boys, is their relationship genuine? I would say yes: at least from my Chinese fandom experience, something that indicates a genuine bond is when one comments on the other's character/personality, as opposed to only them as an acting partner. This applies to Nick and Taylor. Plus they're close enough to tease each other across the pond, I'd say that's genuine and not for PR/promo. They don't need to go to this extent if it's mostly for PR/promo. Also as you said, RWRB promo period is over. On top of that Nick has TIOY and M&G on the air, if he really treats these stuff as PR/promo he would avoid anything with Taylor, we have a word for it here called 避嫌 Bi Xian, but he doesn't.

Whether or not people shipping them will affect their actual relationship, that's up to them, but I do think both are mature to keep their relationship between them. Plus it's not their first rodeo when it comes to being shipped with a co star.

I hope I anwered your question? Please feel free to shoot me another ask if I missed anything

#anon ask #answered #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine

[batvein82]

The Memorial Headstone Sayings And Inscriptions

funeral programs

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[zebravoyage46]

The Memorial Headstone Sayings And Inscriptions

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[tailorlamb79]

The Memorial Headstone Sayings And Inscriptions

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[frenchfrywrites]

Levi's Lizard Trance!

MINORS DNI

This is a bit different from how I typically write hypno/trance stuff. I got the idea from🥮anon

Warnings: soft dom top AMAB reader, sub bottom Levi, consensual hypno, Levi has a hemipenis and a split tongue, PIV (penis in vent), mating press, belly bulge, drool, dacryphilia

Despite being a self described shut in, Leviathan has been spending a lot of time in your room these days. Case in point when after showering you find he’s invited himself into your room, and now he’s laying on his back on your bed playing with a handheld game system. He’s in his pajamas and he doesn’t even look up when you enter, completely consumed by what he’s playing.

You go about your nightly routine, listening to him mashing the buttons on the game. When you flop down on your bed next to him he finally pauses, looking up at you. You lean in and kiss him lovingly. He’s flushed when you pull away, puffing his cheeks, and avoiding eye contact.

“Hi cutie, are you going to be sleeping with me tonight?” you wonder, brushing his bangs from his face. Levi hums an affirmative “mhmm”

“Um, if that’s ok with you,” he adds nervously, you nod, and with that he returns to his game. You let your hand wander, down from his hair to his chest, feeling his hammering heartbeat. You cuddle into him as best as you can without interrupting his game, kissing his neck and rubbing your hand along his chest.

You move lower, watching how he reacts to your teasing touches and light kisses. When you rub from his belly to his chest Levi’s eyes dilate and glaze over, his breathing slows, and to your surprise he drops his game, his lips parting slightly as he completely relaxes under your touch.

You remove your hand, shaking him until he turns over on his side to face you, calling his name softly as you do, his response generating some mild (but growing) concern. A few seconds later Levi shakes and startles, his eyes going back to normal and his breath quickening.

“You ok baby?” Levi blinks a few times, a deep blush spreading across his whole body.

“Yuh- yeah, yes, sorry that was weird, I know it’s weird, I’m-it’s, it’s a thing um, a demon thing, I-” you cut him off,

“Take a breath baby, I’m just a little confused,” you explain softly. Levi takes a deep breath, removing the game from where it fell on his chest,

“Um it’s like, when you rub my belly and I’m on my back it just makes me really calm and… and like, like I’m in a trance kinda? Um it’s weird I know, I can go back to my room if you think its too weird and you don’t want me here and-” again you cut him off,

“Shh it’s ok, calm down, I don’t think it’s weird." Levi breathes a sigh of relief, "well, I mean it kind of is, but not bad weird,” you kiss him lovingly, trying to show him how “not weird” it was. When you pull back Levi follows you, leaning in for another kiss. You stop him, pushing him back down lightly, “can I do it again? Does it feel good?” Levi bites his lip nervously,

“Yeah it feels good, it feels, um, really good… you can do it again- I want you to do it again, but uh, I might get… excited,” he insinuates, causing you to laugh at his choice of words. Running your hands through his hair you think things through.

“Hm, ok precious,” you ask some more clarifying questions and come away knowing that Levi is fully conscious and aware while in his trance, that he can consent to things, and knows what he wants even if things are a little foggy. You peck Levi’s lips quickly, “we’ll take it slow then. I’ll ask you questions and check in with you. And you can always safeword out. You trust me yeah?” Levi nods immediately,

“I do, I luh-” he clears his throat, turning over onto his back, and once again avoiding eye contact, “I love you, I want you.” You coo at how adorable he is,

“Oh baby, I love you and want you too,” you reward his honesty and vulnerability with another kiss. Levi deepens the kiss, opening his mouth for you. You shift so you’re straddling him, licking into his mouth, against his split tongue. Levi jerks his hips up, rubbing his half hard cocks against you. Looks like you didn’t even have to put him in a trance for him to get “excited”. You feel yourself getting aroused at how eager he is.

You pull away, looking down at a squirmy, flushed, and very horny Levi.

“My sweet guppy,” you praise, pulling up his shirt to reveal his soft and pudgy tummy. You run your hands over his belly up to his chest, watching him respond the same way he did the first time, luckily this time you’re more prepared. As you continue to rub his torso Levi’s tongue flickers out, and he starts hissing a little. “Feels good?”

“Yessss,” he slurs, the end of the word turning into a hiss. You huff out a laugh, pulling away just for a second to readjust.

You move to sit between his spread legs, pulling his slack body closer to you so he can wrap his legs around your waist. In this position you get a good view of his flushed, dazed out expression, his exposed soft belly, and his tented sweatpants. You rub his torso a bit more, moving lower and lower, down to his now fully hard cocks. With one hand you continue to rub his belly while the other strokes him over his sweatpants. Unlike his typical response (which is to jerk and whine), Levi stays pliant and still under you.

“Do you like this guppy?” you ask, feeling pre begin to soak through his sweats.

“Mmm yeah, s’good,” he slurs, blinking slowly up at you.

“Hm I’m happy to hear that baby,” you pause, tugging at his waistband, “do you want your pants off?”

“Pleassse,” Levi hisses, flicking his tongue at you. It’s a bit of an awkward struggle getting his pants and underwear off considering Levi does absolutely nothing to help, but you manage. You figure you should probably take yours off now, so you do that quickly and return to stroking him off.

Levi's whimpering and panting from your touch, drool seeping from his mouth as he lets out a mix of moans and soft hisses. "What do you want to do tonight lovely?" You ask, reaching down to feel his slick vent. He doesn’t answer for a long time, likely distracted by how you're playing with his vent. You try again, "Levi, precious, what do you want to do tonight?"

"Sorry ah, wanna um…” he pauses, thinking through what he really wants ,“want you t'fuck me please- my vent not my- hah, my ass." You reward Levi with a kiss, and it's so sloppy with how dazed and slow he is. When you pull away there's a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

"Yeah, we can do that baby," you stop stroking him in favor of grabbing the lube from the bedside table. Levi stares you down with his glazed over dilated eyes, occasionally blinking slowly as you lube up your fingers. You don't think you've ever seen him this relaxed. "Here we go Leviachan," you hum, circling the entrance of his vent with your fingers. He moans openly and loudly as you push into him, which is surprising considering his typical reaction is to cover his mouth and muffle his sounds. You like that when he’s in his trance-like state he’s much more transparent with how he’s feeling.

Turns out Levi’s vent is much looser than usual when he’s this relaxed. It doesn’t take you long to stretch him out enough that he’s prepared for your cock. Speaking of your dick- it’s painfully hard, and you’ve done a good job ignoring how turned on you are by drinking up Levi’s reactions but you’re aching at this point.

“Do you feel ready for me, guppy?” you ask, removing your fingers and hearing him whine loudly, yet he doesn't clench around your fingers like normally.

“Yesss, yeah, please, fuck me, fill me up?” he poses his begging like a question, like he’s not sure if you want it as much as him. You run your non-lubed hand along his thigh as your lubed hand strokes your cock.

“Of course pretty baby,” you reassure him, lining up with his hole. You brace yourself by holding his thighs, but your hands slip a bit and you end up pushing his legs forward into his chest. Since Levi is so relaxed and pliant you discover that he can stretch much easier.

Adjusting him just a bit you position yourself in a mating press, “are you comfortable Levi?” you ask, realigning with his hole.

“Mmm yes,” he mumbles, looking up at you with a completely depraved expression. You watch his flush deepen and his eyes roll into his head when you pop your head into his vent. He’s still panting though the rest of him is all lax and calm, and you watch more drool slip from his mouth as you slide in inch by inch.

Levi hisses softly when you bottom out, so you give him a second to adjust to your size and how deep you are. After a second he whines your name,

“Move, please.” You eagerly abide by his pleas, starting slow but working up to a quick pace. Levi is so loud you wonder if maybe you should have gagged him- and yet with the way he’s being so uncharacteristically open, the thought of silencing him seems almost criminal.

“Wah, ah, you’re ssso deep,” he slurs, looking down at the bulge that your cock makes. You reach down and rub his belly bulge; immediately you feel Levi loosen around you as he relaxes even more. His head flops against the pillow as he sleepily blinks up at you, letting you pound into his relaxed, hypnotized body.

“You’re doing so good for me guppy,” you groan, feeling close already. Your hand moves from his belly bulge to his cocks, wrapping your hand around one and stroking him in time with your thrusts.

“Mmm g’nna c’m,” he slurs out, just enough consonants and vowels that you can put together what he’s saying.

“Go ahead baby, hah, come for me,” he doesn’t need any more encouragement than that, because then he’s cumming all over his stomach and chest. He cries out your name, his glazed over eyes get even more cloudy, and he tightens a bit, but remains largely relaxed and pliant. You fuck him through it, slowing down when fat tears start rolling down his cheeks. “You ok Levi?” you ask quietly, gently brushing his tears away with your hand.

“Yeah, feels- good- sss’good,” his sentence is broken but you get the point and so you return to your pace.

You cum not long after him, just needing a bit more to pull you over. When you pump him full of your hot cum Levi hisses in a way that you’ve come to realize is a pleased and happy hiss.

When you pull out he groans, likely from the empty feeling that occurs. You're entranced for a moment, watching your cum pool out from his vent, but you snap out of it again when Levi groans again.

Carefully you turn him over on his side to break the trance. Similar to the first time he shakes and startles, his eyes clearing up and his pupils contracting. You rub his back, cooing and offering soft praises until he whimpers out your name.

“Can I take a bath?” Levi asks quietly.

“Of course guppy,” you get off the bed, quickly pull on your underwear, and gather him up in your arms. Levi clings to you with all the strength he has, nuzzling into your chest. You carry him to the bathroom, setting him in the tub and carefully remove his shirt. It’s much easier removing his clothes this time with his cooperation. You start the water, and run your fingers through his hair. Levi has pulled his legs up to his chest, leaning his head against his knees as he stares at you with a, frankly, unreadable expression. You don’t mind, you offer him a comforting smile and continue brushing his hair lovingly.

“I liked that,” he says suddenly, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“Me too,” you tell him honestly. Levi squirms a bit,

“I liked when you put me in a- a mating press,” he giggles, biting his lip, “that was so hot, like right out of a hentai,” his excitement is contagious and you can't help but smile along with him. Levi continues, babbling about everything that he liked about the night as you clean him up.

When the water turns cold and Leviathan keeps getting interrupted by his yawns you get him out of the bath. He dries off while you grab him some new pajama pants (so he doesn’t have to get back into the ones stained with pre.)

Then, in no time you're snuggled up in your bed again. The two of you exchange loving, chaste kisses until even that seems like too much effort and you slip into a deep slumber.

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