Ill Figure It Out

His voice is wonderfully deep when he’s saying this.

The real OTP commits to all four | insp.

Charming Wayward Sons Verse ± Taking On Water

[Charming Wayward Sons Verse]

crackship - Amber Heard & Charlie Hunnam 

Muscle Memory - JokerxReader Imagine.

AUTHOR’S NOTE; Thank you for the request lovely! I don’t feel like i’ve done enough Joker lately and for good reason, because I suck haha. I didn’t really know where to go with this and I really hope it doesn’t suck too bad. Hope it was what you were kind of looking for, so let’s see how this goes!

WARNING: Smut and mature language ahead. 

It had been 4 months since you lost your virginity to Mr. J and day by day you found yourself trying to forget it had ever happened in the first place. The Joker was not only your boss, but he was also one of the most infamous criminals in Gotham city, losing your virginity to him was not a bold move, it was just plain stupid. 

How long had you even known him, a year maybe? The only forms of interaction you guys ever had usually involved him requesting you for some form of a delivery that included merchandise, guns, drugs, etc because that’s what your job was. Pretty faces were always recruited for one of 3 things; to waitress, to strip or to deliver depending on their skill set. Considering you didn’t give a damn about customer service; you simply knew waiting tables wasn’t going to work. On top of that, you couldn’t dance to save your life so delivering was your only option at the time. 

Over the course of these past few months you’ve found yourself literally doing everything in your power to avoid Mr. J. This meant stirring clear of every place you knew he’d be, delivering all your drop off reports, files and cash to his right hand man Frost and ultimately working through a middle man to handle any business you had between the two of you. Everything seemed to run smoothly until your phone nearly fell off the night stand from its constant ringing. Without much thought, you reached over and answered. 

“Yeah.” you spoke sternly, obviously annoyed from being woken up.

“2:45. Be here. I got somethin’ I need ya t’take care of.” He reported not leaving much room for you to argue. You instantly recognized it as the voice of Mr. J, but before you could so much as sigh in response, he hung up. You couldn’t disobey him because that could just as easily get you killed or punished; which with Mr. J, one would argue that they meant the same thing. However, you had been on the other end of his torturous punishments before on account of your uncontrollable eye rolls and slight mumbling whenever he said something out of line. The last thing you wanted was to experience that pain again. 

The current time was 2:30AM. It would take you a few moments, but you were quite certain that you could get there in no time considering the roads would be nearly deserted at this time of night. As you drove, you couldn’t figure out what irritated you more; the fact that you’d been bothered at 2AM or that he’d called you personally for a job without actually telling you what it was. 

Deep scrapes of unease slid through your abdomen as you made your way up the stairs to his penthouse. A sigh erupted from your lips as you peered around the halls hoping to see Frost, but when you came up empty handed you frowned. That was disappointing. Your hand rested on the door knob for a few moments as you attempted to gather yourself while the silence on the other side set you on edge. 

Drawing in a deep breath, you push the door openly slowly and began glancing around the dimly lit room only to find Mr. J sitting comfortably next to the large window that took up most of the wall of his penthouse. He gazed out of it as if seeing something that wasn’t there and you had half a mind to wonder what was going on in his mind. Such a dangerous place it was. 

“Mr. J, Ya said ya needed me; ya got the package?” You questioned casually while standing impatiently in the doorway. 

“Close the door.” He stated not even bothering to turn around and look at you. You were uncomfortable already, and you felt yourself hesitate in the door frame at his request. He finally turned to you this time. 

“Close i-i-i-t.” He stated, lingering on the “i” as if he were cooing a child. You couldn’t stop yourself from obeying and the intimidating impulse behind his eyes forced you to look away as you closed the door behind you. You glanced into the distance on the other side of it, as if looking for an out, but you knew full well that there was none. 

“So, where’s this one headed?” You questioned turning your body full circle to close the door behind you. It was hard to look him in the face, especially after having it so close to yours in the past. Why were you thinking about this? Tonight’s call was strictly business and should remain as such.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention and you turn around to find him standing closer to you now, but still a comfortably safe distance away. How was it that even though he was still on the opposite side of the room, you didn’t feel safe?

After a few moments of him staring at you, you shift your weight slightly and roll your eyes. 

“There is no package, is there?” You assume. 

“How long did ya think ya could keep it up huh?” His voice questioned, but it hit the atmosphere with a rhetorical undertone. 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” You try to rationalize, but you should’ve known that rational thinking and Mr. J never mixed. His facial features contorted into a look that resembled displeasure as he slipped his hands into his front pockets.

“You don’t mmmmm?” He questioned. You had done well to convince yourself that, that night never happened, not because you didn’t enjoy yourself, but because a part of you saw it as a heinous act. He was your boss and more than anything your virginity was the only precious thing about you. Now, it was gone and worse, you’d manage to give it to the last person you wanted to touch you; Mr. J. You couldn’t fully erase it; the way he touched you, the way he called you princess, the way he growled in your ear, the way he took his time, the way he kept his hands firmly on your skin; it was unforgettable, but you still tried. 

“No, Mr. J. I don’t.” You nearly pleaded hoping he could see the hidden message behind your eyes. Let it go. 

“So, it’s Mr. J, now?” He asked with a look that mocked confusion. 

“I’ve always called you Mr J, Mr. J.” You furrowed your eye brows. 

“That’s funny, it was please daddy the last time I saw ya.” He stated as his voice changed as a mockery of your own. You feel your eyebrow raise without warning and the heat from your cheeks was released in a sign. Perhaps you’d called him daddy once or twice during the entire ordeal, but it was what he’d apparently liked. To bring it up now as a joke to embarrass you was a low blow .

“You don’t remember?” he asked moving an inch closer. A hand absently finds its way to your hair, pushing a few strands behind your ear. 

“Ya got something for me t’deliver Mr. J?” You question in an attempt to avoid him all together and the annoyance in your voice was evident. He growled. He didn’t speak this time. Instead, he continued to stare at you and the more uncomfortable you got the more intense the stares felt. 

“Ya think ya can avoid me and I not notice?” He moves closer again. 

“I told you, I’m not.” You lie. He tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate, it was lying. 

“Stupid, isn’t a good look on ya doll.” He antagonized. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Don’t call me that.” You never liked that nickname and no one ever called you it. it implied beauty, frailty and innocence; three things that you were indefinitely not. You were a killer if need be, a hired gun if need be, a delivery girl if need be, a doll; not even in the slightest. 

“Mmmm well which do you prefer? Sweetie, baby, pumpkin pie, princess?” He questioned and you couldn’t stop the slight glance to the side as your insides clenched at the idea of the last one. Muscle memory would never allow you to forget the way he made your body feel when he called you that the last time you two interacted. You eyes snapped back to his as you attempted that the current moment didn’t happen. 

“Ohhhhh, I like the response to that one.” He cooed taking another step in your direction. You should have known you couldn’t do anything without him noticing it considering his eyes never left your skin, but what did he expect you to do?

“I can’t….do this.” You responded using your fore finger and your thumb to softly grip the bridge of your nose. There was no right answer or response; only a never ending taunt fueled by his vulgar nature.

“Ohhh, what have I taught cha’ about that word?” His voice was low this time as if to put forth an emphasis on his stature over you. His pause was agonizingly slow as he stared at you, waiting for a reply. Your eyebrows furrow in response to his question and you find yourself taking an instinctive step back wards towards the closed door. That word was always off limits and the mere memory of what he did to you the last time you used it was enough to make you recoil from him. 

“Should I repeat the lesson?” He questioned and your instant rush of panic caused you to look away from him. Your eyes scanned the room for an emergency out just incase this got messy, but you knew currently there were only 2 ways out of this room with him. One was the closed door behind you and the other was the large window that acted as a wall for his penthouse’s living room. Considering he was the top floor, the window wasn’t an option. 

“Please don’t.” You urged allowing your eyes to shut for a brief moment as if trying to destroy the images of his previous lesson from your mind. You still had the scars, the bruises, the scraps and now every time he reminded you of it; you still managed to feel the pain as well. Muscle memory. 

“Don’t what?” He questioned placing his index finger behind his ear as if he didn’t hear your plea. 

“Please don’t punish me.” You answered and his smile widened. Such a sadist. 

“That’s a good girl.” his voice broke as he enthused and if you didn’t know him well you’d think he was overwhelmingly pleased. You rolled your eyes and he growled while taking another step toward you.

“Stop.” you demanded, but there was a slight waver in your voice and it hits the atmosphere like a plea. He smiles. 

“I’m am not going to do anything.” he stated simply before pulling his arms up on either side of him as if to show he was harmless, but you knew better. If he wasn’t up to anything then why were you here, and why did you feel anything but safe? Your confusion must have been clear on your face because he finally spoke. 

“I just need ya to do something for me….” he suggested, lingering on the last word and taking another step towards you. He was inches away from you now, and you some how felt relieved because perhaps this was a business thing. You felt yourself perk back to life believing the nonsense before was finally over until he spoke again. 

“Cum for me.” He spoke in a low tone while focusing his eyes in on your lips. 

Your eyebrows wrinkle before your facial features nearly crumble like pastries in front of him. His eyes didn’t meet yours, but they stayed intent on watching your lips as if there was something to be desired there. 

“Cum for me, Princess.” He repeated, this time adding the nickname that was now etched into your mind. You could feel yourself beginning to fall apart at the seams, but you still attempted to keep your outer form composed. You refused to be affected by him or his taunts, but you couldn’t stop the feeling of your thighs tightening in response to the growing discomfort in your lower abdomen. 

“That’s…..not gonna do anything.” You speak with uncertainty. He smiles again before closed up the rest of the space between the two of you. His left hand reached up slowly to rest firmly against the wall beside your face while his other lightly nipped at the front of your shirt. Your back against the door and his hands boxing you in made you uncomfortable, but you only shifted your weight and looked away from him. It was as if his eyes had fingers and they slowly slid from the base of your body back up to your eyes. 

“Look at me.” He demanded shifting his leg slightly so that he was comfortable close to you now. His angle was strategic for he was close enough to keep you boxed in, but far enough to see your entire body in one glance. You wouldn’t indulge him, instead, you took an unsteady breath through your lips. 

“Look at me.” he requested again except more stern this time. You couldn’t resist the involuntary movement of your eyes focusing in on his, and the intensity behind them made you feel as though you were a child under scrutiny. You could feel yourself losing this battle for you had a desire for him that you couldn’t control and this fact gave him power over you. The idea and thought of being under someone else’s control nearly made you ill, but you couldn’t stop the reaction you surrendered to him as he looked at you. It was as if there was a click in his head as his eyes dropped from yours and grazed over your frame once more. What was he seeing?

“How long had ya been keeping your little secret? All that killing, all that rage, but you’ve never been touched. What do they call that……irony?” He questioned glancing off to the side as if trying to think of the right word. You didn’t find his false sense of humor funny, and you attempted to push off the wall and move away from him only to have his hand push you back gently.

“Are you done? You think you know me because I make a few delivers for you? Because I answer your phone calls when you need business handled? You don’t know a thing….about me.” You could feel your rage bubbling over faster than you could catch it. You were a complicated person, this you could admit, but to have him stand before you as if you were an open book to him set your nerves on edge. 

“Careful. - I fucked you.” He answered simply while allowing a noise from the based of his throat to slip through his lips before moving slightly closer to you. His face remained relatively straight as he spoke. “The way you hesitated when I touched you. Your little looks of confusion when I made you feel things you’ve never felt before. The fear on your face when I made you cum. Had you ever cum before?” His question was taunting but there was a hint of genuine curiosity behind it all. He legitimately wanted an answer. 

“Please, stop.” You pleaded when you realized where this was going. 

“No, no, no Princess, that’s not one of the answer choices. Yes…..no?”  He questioned lingering on the words as if attempting to answer for you. His fingers shook from left to right in front of your lips as if he didn’t want to hear anything else from you, but his eyes once again zeroed in there as if waiting expectantly for your answer. 

“No.” You answered honestly feeling yourself giving up. He found solace in your surrender and the small smile on his face assured you of this.

“No….?” He questioned. 

“No sir.” You corrected, and his smile widened as he nodded. 

“Theeeeeere she is.” he mused before moving his upper half closer to yours before making small patterns into your shirt’s fabric with his free hand. 

“Do you still wanna to leave?” He questioned poking out his bottom lip. You nodded only to have him nodded in return as if mirroring your action. 

“Then do what I asked, and you can go.” He assured. You wrinkled your eyebrows as you looked at him. What did he want?

“Be a good girl. Cum for Daddy.” He requested slipping his free hand down the front of your pants and into the delicate confines of your underwear. You moved in protest only to have his fingers slide against the folds of your private area. You weren’t prepared for the sudden invasion or the distinct feeling of pleasure resonating at the base of your abdomen. 

“Don’t you want my help? …..You want this?” He questioned pushing harder against your skin. You couldn’t answer, you could only think back to the previous time he had his fingers at the base of your sensitivity and you surrendered. He would have you again if you kept this up, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You weren’t his, but in this moment, you were. 

“How far would you go to protect your family? I’m a father, I’m a son, I’m a grandson, and I’m a husband. If someone were to hurt the women in my life and the law didn’t take care of it, what would I do? Pretty awful things.”

What sort of questions should I be asking my beta readers?

QUESTIONS TO ASK YOUR BETA READERS:

When I send out my chapter to be read over by my beta readers, I always include a set of questions typed out at the bottom, grouped into different categories such as: plot, pacing, character, setting, etc. 

You might want to tailor the questions depending on the genre or which chapter it is. For example, if it’s the first chapter you’ll want to ask them about how well your story managed to hook them, or if they managed to easily get an idea of the world you’ve introduced them to. If it’s the climax you might want to ask if the action scenes are fluid, and if the plot twist/s were predictable or surprising. 

Here’s some example questions that you could use:

Opening Chapter:

What is your first impression of the main character? Do you find them likable? Annoying? Boring?

After reading it for the first time, what is your first impression? Was it cohesive and compelling? Boring and confusing?

Did the first sentence/paragraph/page efficiently grab your attention and hook you in?

If you were to read this chapter in a bookstore/library would you be convinced to buy it? Or would you need to read further before deciding? Why or why not?

Did you get oriented fairly quickly at the beginning as to whose story it is, what’s going on, and where and when it’s taking place? If not, what were you confused about at the beginning?

Does the first chapter establish the main character efficiently? Do they feel believable?

Characters:

Could you clearly imagine what the characters looked like? If not, who?

Who was your favourite character and why? Has your favourite character changed? (if this hasn’t changed feel free to skip this question) 

Are there any characters that you do not like? Why do you not like them? (Boring, annoying, problematic, etc.) 

Was there ever a moment when you found yourself annoyed or frustrated by a character? 

Could you relate to the main character? Did you empathise with their motivation or find yourself indifferent? 

Were the characters goals/motivations clear and understandable? 

Did you get confused about who’s who? Are there too many characters to keep track of? Are any of the names or characters too similar?

Do the characters feel three-dimensional or like cardboard cutouts? 

How familiar have you become with the main characters? Without cheating could you name the four main characters? Can you remember their appearance? Can you remember their goal or motivation? 

Dialogue:

Did the dialogue seem natural to you?

Was there ever a moment where you didn’t know who was talking?

Setting/world-building:

Were you able to visualize where and when the story is taking place?

Is the setting realistic and believable? 

How well do you remember the setting? Without cheating, can you name four important settings?

Genre:

Did anything about the story seem cliche or tired to you? How so? 

Did anything you read (character, setting, etc.) remind you of any others works? (Books, movies, etc.) 

Plot/pacing/scenes:

Do you feel there were any unnecessary scenes/moments that deserved to be deleted or cut back?

Do the scenes flow naturally and comprehensively at an appropriate pace? Did you ever feel like they were jumping around the place? 

Was there ever a moment where you attention started to lag, or the chapter begun to drag? Particular paragraph numbers would be very helpful. 

Did you ever come across a sentence that took you out of the moment, or you had to reread to understand fully? 

Was the writing style fluid and easy to read? Stilted? Purple prose-y? Awkward?

Did you notice any discrepancies or inconsistencies in facts, places, character details, plot, etc.?

Additional questions:

What three things did you like? What three things did you not like? 

Can you try predicting any upcoming plot twists or outcomes? 

Was there ever a moment when your suspension of disbelief was tested? 

Is there anything you’d personally change about the story? 

Was the twist expected or surprising? Do you feel that the foreshadowing was almost nonexistent, or heavy handed? 

Feel free to tailor these to your needs or ignore some of them if you don’t think they’re useful. Basically, your questions are about finding out the information about how others perceive your own writing and how you can improve your story.

-Lana

First kiss ft. Vilkas, Teldryn Sero, Brynjolf, Gwilin

A/N: Guess who’s back? (but for how long?)

Requested: Yes

–

Vilkas:

It had been a long trek back - but a rewarding one – finding the merry revelers as they wandered the land with their packs full of mead, happy to share in their revelry when the ‘grand companion’ passed by. He’d nursed the bottle right the way to Jorrvaskr, his smile fading as he witnessed his harbinger hunched uncomfortably over the table, elbow propped up on the wood with thumb and finger pinched at the top of their nose. They huffed resignedly, slamming down her charcoal to the point it shattered and rolled back into the hearth.  

He pulled out a seat beside them, barely finishing his inquiry as to what troubles were plaguing them before the pile of parchment was slid in his direction.

Contracts, summons, missives… inheritance… their toll weighed heavy. Then his eyes trailed to the higher pile, the completed pile, and the two empty ink pots beside it.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance.” They shook their head wearily.

“You’ve only just returned Vilkas, I couldn’t ask it of you. Go, get your rest.”

“And what of your rest. If we finish these together, we’ll both get what we want.”

There was no further argument when he fixed them with a glare, their mouth slamming shut as he began his work.

He took the contracts, signing them off with a flick of his wrist, and the personal papers were left aside, another night in the privacy of the dragonborns quarters would be for them.

An hour and a half later, they were done, and the completion of the job was about as satisfying as the cracks they received from their backs.

“Thank you Vilkas, I do believe drinks are on me when Hulda allows back in the mare.” It was fleeting, innocent, but it set his heart pounding. Their hand squoze his shoulder, and then their lips were pressed against his cheek, the sensation lingering long after their footsteps had disappeared.

Teldryn Sero:

The ash had whipped up dramatically, sending the duo to seek shelter. The cave was a mere crack in the mountainside, cold, damp, and dark – til Teldryns palm fluttered alight with arcane flame. What little kindling they could find was thrown to the flame, the fire growing till it was enough to light the small cavern and warm their freezing fingertips.

They pressed together – side by side beneath a threadbare blanket, holier than a priest of Arkay. With a bottle of Sujamma between them, they made the best of the situation, laughing until they were wheezing at one another’s tales. He’d long shed the cowl - for it did nothing but inhibit his ability to drink - but his mask remained. Through glossy, beady eyes he gazed at his companion, their flushed cheeks, gleaming grin, and sparkling eyes as they – yet again – told him the story of the tiny jester and his broken wagon. He’d heard it numerous times before, but he drank up every word, if for no other reason than to hear their jovial laughter.

He passed the bottle, barely a mouthful left, but still, they threw it back, the blanket slipping from their shoulder in the process.

“You know…” They whispered, eyes lidded as they glossed over his mask “This is technically an indirect kiss.” They giggled, covering their mouth light a child. He grinned back, leaning to fix the blanket at their shoulder.

“Then perhaps we should kiss properly. There’s no drink left after all.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to purr in such a way – though when they leaned into him without a second thought, he didn’t complain.

Brynjolf:

“Mind if I join you?” He took his seat with the nod of their head, placing his tankard down and fingering the rim. Despite all that had occurred, it seemed neither could summon the courage to address their current predicament. Desperately, he threw shy, fleeting glances, coughing, fidgeting – pitiful attempts to gain their attention. His mishap still pounded in his head.

They’d barely made it out the ruin, bruised, battered, and soaked to the bone. Mercer had taken his toll on all of them, but none more so than the dragonborn. Brynjolf could see it – the way they stood, all hunched, swaying ever so slightly. They were drained, and seemingly invisible to Karliah as she prattled on about Nocturnal and the task his friend was set to complete.

He’d caught them when they’d fell, legs giving way to the fatigue that flooded their limbs. He held them, their face pressed against his shoulder, and reflected on all he’d put them through. From a quick pick on the streets of Riften to slaying their own guild master in a Falmer infested dwarven ruin. And what had he done to help?

His hands stilled them as they heaved themselves back up, face steeled and tired as they looked to him for – something. So he leaned in, brash and uncalculated as he pressed his lips against theirs.

He’d forgotten the Nightingale armour was akin to a second skin.

They chuckled from across the table, grinning as he flushed across his cheeks and down his neck. He’d never been so embarrassed. His hands held his face, a groan rattling through his throat as their chuckles silenced, teeth at their lip to hold in what hadn’t escaped.

A gentle touch at his wrists and his hands were being withdrawn, placed upon the table with theirs atop his own. His breath hitched as they leaned towards him, smirk shrinking til their lips puckered and pressed against his own, unobstructed.

Gwilin:

“Excellent day for a swim” his voice was honey on the wind, an irresistible treat that had the dragonborn turning from their task in an instant. His shadow covered them, granting them the ability to gaze upon his smiling face, eyes crinkled at the corners, as he peered over the bridge at them.

“Perhaps you should join me them.” They’d been serious, but the jovial chime of his laughter proved the man was still all too innocent of their affections.

Once again, the sun shone in their eyes, and the crunching of fallen leaves that grew closer proved he’d abandoned his previous spot. They joined him at the bank, his eyes darting away and a dusky brown coating his cheeks. They were soaked to the bone, dressed in nothing but their underthing’s – and the medallion that hung from their wrist.

“I do believe this situation is a tad inappropriate” He mused

“Have to live life in the moment though don’t you?” It was a motto of sorts, one they turned on him regularly – an excuse to drink, to fight, to love – all to see his nose twitch in mild discomfort. They weren’t wrong.

“True, but yours are turning to bad habits.” He mumbled, allowing their laughter to ring in his ears and deepen his flush.

Temba’s voice shocked them both – a summon almost as powerful as the greybeards. He looked towards to mill, considering what trouble a moments delay could cause him – the dragonborn didn’t visit Ivarstead often.

With a deep sigh, he turned to say his farewells, only to have their touch behind his neck, and their lips upon his own.

“I do hope that becomes a habit.”

Defend by ZhaoLuna