point & lick

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice on subtly guiding readers to villainize a character so that they dismiss the character's legitimate concerns over another person's trustworthiness? I am hoping the perceived personalities will help, but I don't want to rely on them alone.

Well, you hit on the answer: Make the concerns legitimate. Not just the concerns you want to discredit, but also the reasons your other characters have to discount their observations.

When you’re writing it can be very easy to get tunnel vision and view the world through the lens of your protagonist. Your audience will gleefully follow that cue in turn. It’s part of why there are a lot of novels with the protagonist acting in egregious ways, but fans will (and do) disregard it, because the protagonist thinks that behavior’s fine.

This is how characters like Harry Potter function. The character operates from a limited perspective of the world, makes snap judgments based on their perspective, and as a result, devalues legitimate advice and insights from people who know what they’re talking about. I’ll stress, there’s nothing wrong with a character having this kind of an approach, so long as the author understands that this is a flaw.

There is nothing wrong with having a character say, “yeah, but that’s just Steve, and we all know what an idiot he is.” So long as you remember, as the author, that Steve may have a point, and licking that light socket was probably not a great idea.

So, let’s step back for a second and start over: As the author, you control the game board. That’s your job. You set up the characters, the arena they operate in, and direct them. You know that the sky is going to fall in six minutes, and that poking the toad over there is a spectacularly bad idea. But, your characters don’t.

In a story told from the position of one character, you’re presenting the narrative from a limited perspective. You need to understand the entire situation, but your character doesn’t, and shouldn’t. They see and react to the information they have access to.

Now, the hard part, staying within this weird little metaphor, every other character in your story is another piece on the board. Looking at the information they have, and acting accordingly. Everyone has their own goals, and perspective. Just like your character, their perspective is limited. They may have more information. They may have less. What they know shapes their opinions and perspectives.

AND. THEY. REMEMBER.

The simple answer is to go back and ask how does your protagonist feel about the character. If they like them, and have had positive experiences in the past, they’re more likely to accept that character’s viewpoint. If that character has betrayed them in the past, or worked against them, then they’ll discount the value of their advice.

Past actions are incredibly important factors if you’re dealing with characters who’ve changed loyalties. It’s entirely plausible your protagonist would hold a grudge against a former foe, who’s switched sides and is working with them now. Conversely, if the protagonist has had a change of heart, then they’re more likely to face distrust and opposition among their new allies.

Okay, so, maybe someone does know that the sky is going to fall if you poke that toad. Maybe they didn’t make that information clear because, “NO! AREYOUOUTOFYOURGODDAMNMIND!? DONTDOTHAT; THEFUCKINGSKYWILLFALL!” Maybe they’ve cried wolf before. Maybe your protagonist thinks poking the toad is a key to immortality and Steve just wants that for himself.

You’re correct, personality does matter. It affects prejudices, and how we weight information. Some of this is subconscious, but it works. Consider which you find more credible, some Rasputin looking homeless dude raving about the end of the world, or a composed academic? Personality and presentations matter, particularly during first impressions. Even if the Rasputin looking fellow comes back, shaved, with the crazy toned down, they’ll still be weighed against their previous iteration, by characters who originally met them in that state.

Confirmation bias is another relevant factor. This is the drive to actively seek out information that supports your understanding of the world while actively discounting information that contradicts it. If your protagonist really wants to believe that toad will give them immortality, they may very well ignore the advice of people they respect, and normally agree with, when they’re told it’s really an amphibious button to initiate the end times.

The really important thing to walk away with is the idea that you don’t need to vilify other characters’ positions. If your character has a legitimate reason not to follow it, then that’s all you need. Trust your audience make their own decisions on who they should be listening to.

-Starke

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anonymous asked:

Sansa doesn't really have any wolf connections bc lady dies early on and she doesn't have the wolf blood, but does she make any parallels or say anything about wolves (in asoiaf)? I'm really curious and I know you love Sansa chapters ❤️

Hi! Yes, I love Sansa’s chapters so much, they are some of my favorites. Sansa does have quite a few references to wolves throughout ASOIAF, though you are correct about her literal “wolf connection” being weaker than that of her siblings, precisely because Lady is killed. 

While all the Stark children have the ability to be wargs, per GRRM:

“I don’t think this is necessarily a ‘Stark’ ability, though all the children have it to one extent or another.”

Sansa is the only Stark child who never had the chance to develop the ability, because the Stark children’s ability to warg is because of their connections to their direwolves - and Lady is dead. @bitchfromtheseventhhell​ wrote a great meta on Sansa and the other Stark children’s warging abilities here, if you’re interested.

So Sansa may not be able to warg, but that doesn’t mean she has no connection to the direwolves that are the sigil of her house.

Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread.

“She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.”

The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. (A Game of Thrones - Sansa I)

Right away in Sansa’s first POV chapter, we see how strongly she is connected to Lady, and in a very Stark way - it’s no coincidence that Septa Mordane describes Sansa as being “willful” when it comes to Lady, a term usually reserved to describe those “wolf-blooded” women of House Stark like Arya and Lyanna.

Sansa sat up. “Lady,” she whispered. For a moment it was as if the direwolf was there in the room, looking at her with those golden eyes, sad and knowing. She had been dreaming, she realized. Lady was with her, and they were running together, and … and … trying to remember was like trying to catch the rain with her fingers. The dream faded, and Lady was dead again. (A Game of Thrones - Sansa III)

Even after Lady’s death, Sansa still senses her presence and dreams of her. Though this is not the same kind of “wolf dreams” that Arya, Bran, and Jon have, where they are literally wearing the skins of their direwolves (because they are wargs), it’s still significant that Sansa dreams of being with Lady, even if she’s not in her skin.

Sansa pulled her cloak tighter. The air was rich with the smells of earth and leaf. Lady would have liked this place, she thought. There was something wild about a godswood; even here, in the heart of the castle at the heart of the city, you could feel the old gods watching with a thousand unseen eyes. (A Clash of Kings - Sansa II)


And what will they do to me? Sansa found herself thinking of Lady again. She could smell out falsehood, she could, but she was dead, Father had killed her, on account of Arya. She drew the knife and held it before her with both hands. (A Clash of Kings - Sansa II)

In the godswood in the Red Keep, Sansa reflects that Lady would have liked it there, and reaffirms her connection with the old gods of the Starks. Later in this chapter, Sansa thinks of Lady again, and remembering how intuitive and perceptive her direwolf was, she raises her knife to defend herself against Ser Dontos.

Sansa backed away from the window, retreating toward the safety of her bed. I’ll go to sleep, she told herself, and when I wake it will be a new day, and the sky will be blue again. The fighting will be done and someone will tell me whether I’m to live or die. “Lady,” she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead. (A Clash of Kings - Sansa VII)

When Sansa is afraid during the Battle of the Blackwater, she turns to the memory of her direwolf for comfort. Lady, like Sansa’s “Starkness”, are things Sansa often turns to in times of great turmoil to give her strength and comfort, reminding her of who she really is.

That was such a sweet dream, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been back in Winterfell, running through the godswood with her Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so … She threw back the coverlets. I must be brave. Her torments would soon be ended, one way or the other. If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now. (A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV)

We see that here again, where Sansa dreams of Lady once again, this time directly connecting Lady to her family and Winterfell, and reminding herself to be brave. Sansa’s connection to her family and to Winterfell are a crucial part of her story, especially when, as she says, she is “alone in the world now.” Sansa using Lady and her “Starkness” to find her strength is very important.

“Do as you’re told, sweetling, it won’t be so bad. Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren’t they?”

Brave. Sansa took a deep breath. I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave. (A Storm of Swords - Sansa III)


She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell. (A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII)

Sansa’s story, similar to Arya’s, is ultimately about reclaiming her identity as a Stark, and I think in Sansa’s case it will be an especially difficult journey. Sansa doesn’t have “wolf dreams” like Arya does that constantly pull her back towards her identity as a Stark. Holding onto that identity is something that Sansa has to do all on her own - and she does.

Petyr put his arm around her. “What if it is truth he wants, and justice for his murdered lady?” He smiled. “I know Lord Nestor, sweetling. Do you imagine I’d ever let him harm my daughter?”

I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard’s daughter and Lady Catelyn’s, the blood of Winterfell. (A Feast for Crows - Sansa I)

Lady’s death was the catalyst for Sansa’s loss of identity arc, but we are reminded by Sansa herself throughout ASOIAF that she is, and always will be, a Stark of Winterfell - just as much as her siblings are.

After Lady’s death in AGoT, Ned affirms this, even so early on in the story.

When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”

“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.

“All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.“ (A Game of Thrones - Eddard III)

Sansa’s direwolf may have died, but her Stark connection never will. Throughout her story, no matter who Sansa is forced to marry or keep company with to survive (the Lannisters, Baelish), no one will ever truly have her. Like Lady, Sansa belongs in the North; she is her own woman - and a Stark of Winterfell.

Five Senses

Harry is the type to savor every last bit of his girl.

I mean, he is an Aquarius after all. And an Aquarius Venus as that. So naturally, he’s a pleaser.

Harry is the type to watch her. When his head is between her legs and his fingers are knuckle deep inside of her, he’s the type to look up at her from under his eyelashes and watch her. If her eyes are still open, he sends her a look asking “Are you okay?” He might even stop and press a kiss to her clit before asking if it’s working for her. And if her eyes are closed…. ohhhhh god. That’s when he smirks because he knows he’s doing his job right. And that’s when he takes the time to watch her. Because he knows she gets self-conscious sometimes when he does. But he loves it. Loves watching the way her toes curl, her tummy flutters, her boobs jiggle. Loves watching the way her face scrunches up, how she bites her lips when she’s about to cum, how her lips curve into a smile when his tongue hits the perfect spot.

Harry is the type to love his girl’s smell. Honestly. On those days when she’s extra horny and he feels like being a little shit, he’s the type to tease her. Especially if they’re in public together. Texting her, "Can smell you from here, love.” But he absolutely adores it and honestly, he’ll drop it into conversation at the most random times. “You know your pussy smells amazing when I’m down between your thighs,” over morning coffee, making her almost choke. And on their more intimate nights, he may even stall while he’s kissing her thighs, just so he can smell her. She hates it but it makes him feel so at home between her legs. He reckons he could stay there all day, and usually on lazy days spent in bed or on the couch, he does.

He’s also the type to pay attention to every sound she makes, and fuck, does he love her sounds. He loves knowing which spots elicit which sounds. He knows that if he flicks his tongue in a certain spot, she’ll wine. Or if his fingers graze a spot inside of her, she’ll let out a soft groan and probably a curse word. He wishes he could play her moans like a song on repeat all day, and admittedly, some of his favorite messages from her are when he’s away and she surprises him with an audio clip. In fact, they’ve both recorded themselves in the act a few times just to have something to listen to when they’re apart. And Harry is so attentive that he knows exactly where he’s touching her in the recording. It gets him unbearably hard.

Harry definitely loves her taste. He makes a point of licking his fingers whenever he touches her and she’s wet, especially if he isn’t in a place where he can get his tongue on her. But when he can? Oh god. He’ll take extra time savoring it. Reminding her just how good she tastes, how he loves when she gets this wet for him, and how she has the “best tasting pussy in the world, baby. I swear.” There have even been a few times when he’s brought his fingers up to her own lips for her to taste, because admittedly the sight gets him hard as a rock. And when she cums? He wants to lick up every last bit of it.

And her touch. Yes, he admits that he loves the way her walls feel when they’re clenching around his fingers or his cock. He loves how strong her hips feel when they’re fighting him as he’s trying to hold her down so he can eat her. He loves pushing a hand on her warm tummy while he’s fucking her because he knows she can feel him that deep. But his favorite– his absolute heart melting favorite– is when he’s down between her legs and her fingers interlace with his own. He loves the way her fingers tremble and search for his own steady ones to hold her while she rides through an orgasm that’s all thanks to him. He loves how she gives his hands little thank-you squeezes, involuntary or not, and he loves how her thumb automatically begins stroking his hand when she’s coming down from her hight.

Harry is the type to love a great many things about his girl. And his favorite place to see all of those things, he’s learned, is down between her legs.

Sansa’s first scene in A Game of Thrones, and the readers’ introduction to her from a POV perspective, starts with her feeding Lady under the table, and I’m quite sure this was intentional.

“I’ve never seen an aurochs,” Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen.”

Septa Mordane sniffed i disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread.

“She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.”

The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.”

(page 139)

Like Sansa, Lady is courteous and perfectly disciplined. By hiding Lady, Sansa keeps up the appearances of a noble lady, but she refuses to let go of Lady. Lady is her tie to her Northern heritage, and her identity, and in her first scene, Sansa has learned to hide Lady. Sansa is not openly rebellious like Arya, who skips meals with the Queen to go riding with her friend, but she makes sure her rebellions are small, silent, and disciplined. When Lady dies, Sansa loses that concrete tie to her Northern identity, and while in Kings landing she has to sever any open connection or loyalty to her family. When she becomes Alayne she has to submerge her identity even further, but I think the key to her character the constant small assertions of her identity: her trips to the Godswood, telling Joffrey Robb might bring her his head, telling Cersei she will make the people love her, not fear her. These are all small assertions of who Sansa really is, a glimpse of when she keeps “under the table” in her mind.

jungkook; morning kiss(es)

❝there’s no such thing as singular in jungkook’s book of kisses. only plural.
►1870 words // scenario
♡ this is for @cno-inbminor​ bc we reached our 200th day snapstreaksary (it’s a word i swear) and this is a little overdue but here it is i tried my best and it’s short but i LOVE YOU KAREN

Originally posted by officialwookkibby

Jungkook was a person who could be satisfied (and happy) with the littlest of things in life or, could find significance in anything he came across with. 

One, you (not to be taken literally but hey, he does use the benefit of being taller and you know when you’re shorter you have a better aim at his di-). Two, discounted prices on set meals he wants to eat. Three, finding a dollar lying on the floor and claiming it as his even though he knows damn well it fell from your purse but finders keepers losers weepers. Four, Jimin and Taehyung messing with Hoseok, only got get a beating after and his devil ass is watching from the side the whole time. And last but not least, sleeping until the sun breaks through the window and rakes his ass awake.

He was a heavy sleeper and that, ladies and gentlemen, was not a surprising thing at all. God no. Almost everyone around him had experienced troubles waking him up at least once (thrice) in their lifetime. As quoted from none other than Kim Seokjin and editing from Kim Namjoon: “That boy can sleep until the world burns down and he’ll wake up being alone.” (end scene)

It was all about getting used to, in your opinion. You’d gauge around the time he’d wake up and plan your day on from there. See, if you can’t change the boy’s habit, change the way you work things around. Simple. (unless you’re living with six other guys who gives no shit with your sleeping habits then kudos to you, good luck chap, better luck next life)

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2

‘‘I’ve never seen an aurochs,’‘ Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen.

Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. ‘‘A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table.’‘ 

‘‘She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,’‘ Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue.

anonymous asked:

hi i like your art alot ^^ could you do some sasosaku please? you draw them so cute and the way you make them talk to each other is funny/cute thank you so much!

Spoiler: She does, resulting in our little Sasori to freak the fuck out, but he’s seriously such a bluffer, so it doesn’t matter.

lovely; a.a.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

PROMPT; in which archie andrews finds himself smitten with a dear friend, and after a not-so-fun encounter during lunch, it dawns on him that its about time he comes clean.

PARING/CHARACTERS; archie andrews x reader, jughead jones, betty cooper, and veronica lodge.

WARNINGS; angst, feels, more angst and probably more feels, and swearing is nearly guaranteed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE; wow okay so there’s not a lot of archie imagines or anything on tumblr so i tried my best and yeah. but nonetheless, i enjoyed writing this and wouldn’t mind writing more, so send me in some more archie requests!


Archie never expected anything like this.

He never expected for Jason Blossom to die. He never expected to end up dating (would that be the right word?) his music teacher- hell, he never expected to fall in love.

No, he didn’t fall in love with Ms. Grundy.

He fell in love with you.

And, God, did it take him forever to finally realize it. Yeah, he knew there were feelings for you, but he just didn’t know what they meant.

You’d simply glance at him and his heart would start beating faster, or maybe you’d laugh at some comment Jughead made about Reggie and the rest of the jocks and his stomach would erupt into butterflies.

He was so smitten and he didn’t even know it.

He’d stare at you, just smiling to himself because you were oblivious to it. And if you did notice, you’d just roll your eyes and tell him to take a picture. But he didn’t need a picture, because how could he - how could anyone forget you?

It wasn’t until Veronica said something did he notice his feelings - his true feelings - towards you.

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Light reading

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is not like the other maidens. She was born the daughter of a warrior and she wanted to follow her father’s steps. Being smarter than the rest, she grew up with the princes of Asgard as equals and friends. She enjoys reading and so does Loki, but their light reading habit turned into something else that night.

Warnings: Slight smut, not very detailed. Still a bit cute.

A/N: I’m taking so long and I swear I’m trying to get things done! So, I was once talking to my babe Raissa from @imaginedaily and she told me Andy Black would make a great young loki, and as this one shot takes place before the Thor movies, I thought it’d be great to put him in the usual gif I put.


Originally posted by andybiersack-daily

The master of swords said goodbye to all of the maiden warriors that trained at that time and congratulated all of you for such an enriching session. You were getting better by the minute and all the training had some effect on your body as well, for which you were incredibly grateful. You were the daughter of a master of arms and one of the queen’s most trustworthy maidens, so you were always surrounded by the princes. You called them your friends and the feeling was the same from them.

But as you grew up, you became more interested in defending the kingdom rather than serving the queen. You wanted to follow your father steps and so you began training and going on small excursions with the other Asgardians.

As you walked to your chamber, you found your childhood friend. The youngest prince, Loki, was heading for your chamber as well, to look for you because he had found something very interesting as he went through his father’s library.

“So, how was training?” He asked, as you walked over to the wardrobe. The room was a bit too much for you, but your parents had chosen it for you and they said that they wouldn’t accept a no for an answer, especially now that you were to become a warrior. “My brother says you’re getting very good at mastering the sword.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “but I believe it is kind of in my blood, I mean… Father is a master of arms himself, so…” you shrugged carelessly.

“I haven’t seen you in battle myself, but everyone points out how graceful you are. Well, you are a pretty woman, like your mother. You’ve got in yourself the best of both worlds.” He chuckled.

“Uhh—” your mouth hung open—“well—thank you—I mean… I—I guess so.” You took out your sleeping garments: a pair of tight shorts and a long shirt. You looked over your shoulder, and he had a shit eating grin of approval. “Make a painting, Odinson,” you sneered, “it’ll take as long as it will last.” He shook his head in amusement. “So, what do you have there?”

“It seems like my father keeps these books away from all of us.” The youngest son of Odin said, flaunting his newest discovery in one of his pale hands. “I went through some of the pages, and it’s very… interesting. Midgardians seem like a fascinating kind.”

“How so?” You asked as you got rid of your sweaty garments. Since you and Loki were friends since childhood, you had seen him naked when he was little and he had seen you too; besides, undressing among a large amount of people was kind of an everyday thing for you.

“It is very graphic.”

“Graphic as in… cold blooded graphic?” You turned your back to him. “Humans can get very, very bloody.” You said from over your shoulder.

“As in sexually graphic.” Loki smiled wickedly, showing his teeth and giving you a naughty look.

You sighed and shook your head, leaving the training gear inside your wardrobe. Loki was already sitting on the rug and waiting for you to sit next to him. You complied, holding your legs close to your chest as he went through the pages of the book. It was very graphic indeed, and in his silky, deep voice, it was truly giving you the chills.

The pictures in the book were rather crude and unlike other human paintings, they had little to no detail at all. They weren’t very delightful to look at, but you were already having another picture. Loki doing all those things to you. Having his unusually cold hands all over your body, and his thin lips sucking on your neck, or better, on your breasts as you moaned his name.

“(Y/N)?” He asked, suddenly dragging you out of your thoughts. You looked at him, completely perplexed and rising your eyebrows. “You just… moaned.” He said, with a slight taint of laughter in his voice. You turned red in a split second and tried to explain yourself. “Maybe we should leave this reading for another day…” He suggested.

“N—no—” you stuttered—“I’m fine.”

He let out a breathy giggle and happily complied. Truth be told, he was feeling the effects of the book. He was imagining you going down on him, and riding his shaft like a professional. You fanned yourself as you got lost in your thoughts again; the mere wonder of how his tongue would feel in between your folds, and his cock sliding up on you, reaching a point that your fingers never could… It felt like heaven, a painful heaven.

“I’m getting bored.” You huffed loudly. “What if we take this book into practice?”

“What took you so long?” He smiled in amusement and left the book aside.

You straddled his lap, finally feeling his cold hands on an uncovered spot of your skin. You threw your head back and he took the opportunity to land his lips on the hot skin of your neck, just above your pulse point; he licked his lips before sinking his teeth on you and sucking. You rubbed yourself against him, feeling a growing bulge really near your wetting folds. He appreciated the gesture by sucking harder on you. That would be a very difficult spot to cover later, but you’d think about that when you’d finished your business with him.

You took your hands to the hem of your shirt and slowly slid it up. If you had known you’d end up naked, you wouldn’t have worn anything that night. It proved to be useless.

You pushed him back enough to be able to look at him. His green eyes shone brightly, but the light was not even close to loving; it was pure lust that took over him, and you could might as well enjoy yourself with it.

In a split second, the trickster was lying on top of you on the huge bed, pinning your wrists with his cold hands that were a cool refresh. His lips looked for you furiously, like an animal that finally got to catch its prey. But even though he had the eyes of a predator, you were not the one to call a prey.

You let him out power you, feeling the neediness of his touch as he got rid of your upper garment. He took out his own clothing, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso on such a slim frame. You two made passionate love all night, feeling the endorphins bubbling inside your body and the love that he procured you each time he stopped to look at you.

Once you were ready to call it quits, and you felt tired enough to sleep like a baby you slid under the silk bedding. It was a bit messy from all the moving, and you made a mental note of taking them to washing because they still had the strong smell of sex all over them. Loki, who was now fully dressed, walked closer to you. He patted your head and gently kissed your temple, getting ready to leave you and let you get some rest.

“You can stay here if you’d like.” You offered. “You won’t escape from the walk of shame anyway.”

“Do you want me to stay here?” You bit your bottom lip and nodded nervously, feeling a strong warmth on your cheeks. “Well, I can’t decline such a lovely invitation.” He turned on his heels and slid beside you; for the very first time, you noticed his skin was not cold, and his temperature matched yours.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he buried his face in your hair and nuzzled at the back of your neck. His soft and rhythmic breathing dozed you off and it worked better than a lullaby.

anonymous asked:

i know you probably don't do y/n but will you please please please please write a Diana reader one for me for my birthday???? I just need angst with the reader being bruce's sister and dating diana

Alright, here it is…my first shot at this style of writing.

Originally posted by dailydcfilms

You’re his little sister, but you’re also his burden. You always have been. He doesn’t say it, but you can see it on his stoic face everytime you meet for awkward brunches or meetings to discuss what’s next for the company. He doesn’t want to be you around, so you stay away. You leave Gotham behind and you build yourself a life far away from the darkness of a city that took everything from you.

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Huge Stupid Crush

Daveed Diggs x Reader

Word Count: 3024

Request: “’You’ve been pouting every since I went out on that date, what’s up?’ with Diggs?” -anonymous

Summary: You’ve been down in the dumps ever since “this guys you liked” went out on a date with another girl and Diggs makes it his mission to cheer you up.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff!

Tagging: @bad-hatter

A/N- So, again, this was a drabble request that turned into a full length fic (I need to stop doing this), anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you thought :)

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Flood (Haechan x Reader)

Rating: PG

(A/N) Ayyyy baby gals and baby guys ;^) ya girl ry ry here is back with THE FLUFFIEST HAECHAN I COULD POSSIBLY MUSTER. LISTEN. I love him so much, he is my son, my beautiful, golden, shining, angel vocals, talented absolutely stunning son. APPRECIATE HIM. And I hope you like this! c:

Originally posted by nctinfo

You don’t know how it turned out like this, Mother Nature was a mysterious woman. One moment it was a lovely spring day and you were hanging out with your best friend and enjoying each other’s company. Then suddenly it was apparently monsoon season and a flash flood warning scrolled along the top of the television monitor when you scrambled inside.

Your shoulders sagged, feeling annoyed as you turned over to your friend, “Now what?”

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  • ji dwi: remember when we were little and there was that time you made me lick the swing set?
  • sook myung: no.
  • sook myung: i said “brother, don’t lick the swing set” and you said “don’t tell me what to do, sookie” and then you licked the swing set.
The Odds of Winning (M)

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1,529

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Description: After making a two week long bet with Jimin, you come home and catch him breaking the bet.

Warnings: Sub!Jimin, Voyeurism, Sex toy, Profanity, Masturbation, Teasing, a little bit of over stimulation

A/N: Firstly, @avveh came up with the idea but @metaland-dust polluted my brain with so many filthy ideas. This is just the start of what we’ve talked about. Feedback is always appreciated.


You stuck your hand out in front of Jimin and waited for him to agree with you, “You’re on, ___!” he softly chuckled while staring into your eyes and shaking your hand.

You shook your head and walked away, “Good Luck Jimin! You’re going to need it,” you exclaimed while walking out of the room you shared with your boyfriend of three years.

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  • Sansa sighed as she stitched. “Poor Jon,” she said. “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard.”
  • Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread.“She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. 
  • “I hate riding,” Sansa said fervently. “All it does is get you soiled and dusty and sore.”
  • Joffrey reflected a moment. “We could go riding." "Oh, I love riding,” Sansa said.
  • Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher’s boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick.
  • Sansa lifted her head. “It will be a splendid event. You shan’t be wanted.”
  • “I’m sore all over,” Arya reported happily, proudly displaying a huge purple bruise on her leg.“You must be a terrible dancer,“ Sansa said
  • "There was a black brother,”Sansa said, “begging men for the Wall, only he was kind of old and smelly.” She hadn’t liked that at all. 
  • “Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.”
  • The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. “I hate her!” she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night’s fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep.
  • That night Sansa dreamt of Joffrey on the throne, with herself seated beside him in a gown of woven gold. She had a crown on her head, and everyone she had ever known came before her, to bend the knee and say their courtesies.
  • “It’s not fair!“ Sansa pushed back from her table, knocked over her chair, and ran weeping from the solar.

-I love bratty sansa, truly, honestly

Brat Taming - Pt. 1

Genre: Smut

Length: 1,000+ words

Kinks: Dom/Switch! Namjoon, Switch/Brat! Reader, exhibitionism(???), mainly just dirty talk~

I was going to write it just in one go; one full part, but I’m currently sick and since I’ve been lacking a ton, I wanted to get more content out for y’all  💙 P.S. I apologize for slacking so much, and if this fic is “meh” compared to my others.

Originally posted by itsrapmonster

Namjoon had gotten you so accustomed to having every ounce of his attention. Even while he was busy with his hectic ass work schedule he still pampered you as much as possible. 

Though the two of you loved it, it all sort of just lead to you becoming quite the brat. 

You laid there in the bedroom you shared with him; at the dorm he shared with his friends, in one of his sweaters that fit you just a little too big, a black skirt, and stripped thigh highs. Namjoon was currently in the living room with his friends playing video games, ya know just having guy time.

It didn’t bother you of course, because what kind of girlfriend would you be if you got upset at your boyfriend for hanging out with his friends. You tried to contain yourself, but you just wanted cuddles and kisses that you came up with a little plan…just to entice him a bit.

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Wayhaught Pride pt 1

Just gonna be 2 or 3 small parts, just some rambling thoughts in my head. @jaybear1701 would demand like 50k of this but really I’ll be surprised if it gets 5k total. 

Summary: Nicole takes Waverly home to Chicago for her very first pride. 

ps the following gif has nothing to do for the story but exists so… 

Originally posted by nicoleandwaverly

“Is this okay?”

Nicole looked up from the bag she was in the middle of unpacking, unable to stop the grin that spread across her face. Her eyes raked over the short frame that was wearing rainbow leggings under a pair of cutoff shorts and a raglan shirt with a rainbow unicorn on the front, tied tight just at her rib-cage to reveal her midriff. Nicole felt her heart skip a beat for what had to be the most exquisite vision she’d ever seen in her entire life.

“Is it too much?” Waverly looked down at Nicole’s own attire, a simple black tee with a rainbow heart on the front and a pair of shorts, her hair tied up in a ponytail. “It’s too much isn’t it? Damn it!”

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Being captured by Euron Greyjoy

Hi guys! This is my first time writing for Euron… I hope you like it. If you think I can optimize my story, just let me know! 

Warning: Euron Greyjoy himself should be warning enough, but to make it clear: SMUT! (strong language, sex, etc)

Fem. Reader x Euron Greyjoy

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