#esperanza requests

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Hiiii I recently found your account and love your writing.

Would you be able to write something angsty for Levi where the reader gets seriously injured while out on a mission? I’d like it to be really angsty but whatever you want to do I’m good with!

Hi lovely anon, thank you so much for your kind words and this request!! I've dabbled in angst here and there, but this is definitely the darkest I've gone. I was surprised to find I really enjoyed writing it! Maybe there's more angst in my future hm...

Anyways THANK YOU again for sending this, I love hearing from readers and love requests! I'm sorry that it took me so long to get back to you, I hope you still see this and that you enjoy it if you do!

don't fall away from me: Levi x Scout!Reader angst

[tw: hurt/no comfort, heavy angst as requested!, injury/gore, spoilers for No Regrets, mentioned (not actual) vomiting // wc: 2k // ao3 // set before the fall of Shiganshina]

It wasn't often that you and Levi were separated for missions these days. A combination of luck and called-in favors from the Captain meant that most days and nights you were by each other's side, sometimes worse for wear, but together, at least.

But luck didn't last forever, and Levi wasn't all-powerful. You had been sent on a long-term mission beyond the walls, leading a troop of Scouts to establish an outpost farther than the Regiment had ever been able to put down roots. It was risky, but if successful, would pay off immediately, filling in new corners of the Eldian map. Levi stayed behind, part of Erwin's private detail as the Commander lobbied for more funding.

Levi hated it. Hated the pompous bastards he had to deal with, the tasteless displays of wealth in the inner walls, and worst of all, that it kept him from you. But you had reassured him as you always did, strong arms around his neck and soft lips against his. "I'll be home soon, Levi. Wait for me." He saw your squad off, raised his hand in a stern wave, watching until you and your horse disappeared over the horizon.

It wouldn't last forever, he reminded himself. You were tough. So was he- a few weeks away was nothing in the grand scheme of things. And he'd seen you take down enough titans to know that they should be afraid of you. The memory made his chest swell with a quiet pride. You were a damn good soldier, and you were his. He'd make sure to remind you of both when you came home.

That was the hope that kept Levi patient as he waited out the weeks. Once the political posturing was over, he took his stress out on the spiders that had taken up residence in the rafters of the scouts' barracks. Hange was heard laughing quietly to Moblit that HQ was always cleanest when you were away. Luckily for them, Levi didn't overhear, too busy chasing his worry away with a dustrag.

The morning of your squad's return dawned clear, the sun cresting the Walls like it anticipated your arrival as much as Levi did. The Captain had been up before then- fussing over his hair and straightening his cravat needlessly, wanting to appear cool and calm when he rode out to meet you. You were sure to tease him otherwise. It had become something of a game to see who could spot the other first at your homecomings, waiting just inside the gate or, if impatience got the best of you, riding out to meet the other on some pretense.

He sipped from the teacup between his fingers, hiding a smile as he thought about the look on your face. Your eyes always lit up, your grim on-duty expression melting into relief, excitement- love, when you saw him again. He was almost sure it was love. Little as he knew about the subject, anyway. Hoped it was, would've prayed it was if he had any faith. Because Levi loved you. He hadn't admitted it yet, but the weeks of separation had shown him just how much he had grown to rely on you, to cherish your shared moments, the light you shone in the dark corners of his life.

Maybe he didn't need to seem cool and calm, this time. He allowed himself to believe that you'd missed him as much as he missed you. That certainty carried the Captain to his horse, through the gates, out on a hard ride through the outskirts of the walled city, until he saw the blurry forms of your squad through the morning mist. His carefully fixed hair fell back into messy bangs across his forehead as he urged his horse faster, his body taut with both exertion and excitement. You were almost home.

He searched for your face in the crowd of green-cloaked soldiers to no avail. Maybe you were scouting ahead, or keeping watch from the rear. He shook off the icy tendrils of fear that crept down his neck. Surely that was all. Levi looked to the rest of your squad, but they didn't meet his eyes. Some of them limped, some held bandaged limbs, others leaned on their comrades. The tendrils turned into choking vines.

Levi reared his horse in front of the ragged procession and leveled them with a glare. "Where is she?" Silence. He gritted his teeth, his voice a sword. "I won't repeat myself."

A single Scout stepped out from the ranks. Levi recognized her as a young recruit; this would have been one of her first missions. She gestured at a covered wagon hitched to the horse behind her. "She saved us, Captain." The girl's voice wavered, then broke. "We wouldn't be here if she hadn't-"

Levi didn't know if she finished her sentence. He was already off his horse and shoving past her, his mind a wall of white noise. Somehow he was standing beside the wagon, ripping the cover back with shaking hands-

In the days and weeks that followed, every Scout from that ill-fated mission would swear on their lives that the Captain maintained his composure in that moment. Whether in solidarity or out of the fear that came from watching the collapse of something unbreakable. Every last person there that day would deny that they ever heard Levi sob.

The sound tore from him helplessly, choked horror in the back of his throat. Your bloodless lips were parted, your hair strewn across the packs of gear they’d propped you on. Your arms lay limply atop a rough blanket that hid everything below your chest. When Levi reached for your hand, pressing it to his cheek, you were cold. He whispered your name, but you didn’t stir.

With effort, Levi tore his gaze from your body and whirled on the soldier that had revealed you. “Tell me what happened.”

In fits and starts, she managed the story. It had happened so fast, she said, the night watch asleep in the newly constructed outpost, the early sunrise revealing a trio of titans surrounding the camp, all teeth and eager eyes. 15m class and hungry, scrabbling at their tents, waking up to a nightmare.

You had slept in your gear- Levi clenched his fists against a sudden surge of nausea. You always teased him about his habit, sleeping sitting up or fully clothed, ready for anything. But out there, on your own, you had done the same. Did you think of him as you fell asleep? The girl was still speaking, her gaze far away. You had sprung into action, using the titans themselves as anchors to fly at their nape out there in the vast flatness of the wild.

You dispatched two quickly- of course, Levi thought, of course she did- but the third- the girl stopped to drag the back of her hand across her mouth, swallowing a dry heave. Levi had to resist the urge to shake her, to make her keep talking- but she soon continued in a whisper.

"The last titan caught her in it's teeth. It was a blur, we didn't see, only heard a- heard a snap, and a scream... we cut it's Achilles tendons, brought it to it's knees, and she fell..." The scout trailed off, her jaw working soundlessly as she remembered. "The wound, wounds- they weren't clean, sir." Her voice was a strained apology. She wobbled, clearly spent, and Levi turned away.

He stepped back toward the wagon where you lay. Levi took a slow breath, reaching into the depths of himself to find the strength to look at what hid beneath the blanket. He peeled it back, hissing through his teeth when the fabric caught on patches of drying, tacky blood.

It took a moment for Levi to process what he was seeing. Your lower body was a torn mess of crimson, contrasting hideously against the stark white of exposed bone protruding from your mangled calf. He could see the titan's attack written on your flesh- the purpling crush of teeth along your thighs and the shredded aftermath of those jaws tearing down to your ankles. The smears of dirt and gore told him how you were dragged along, out of the titan's clenching jaw, off the battlefield.

This is a dream. A nightmare. Levi told himself, clinging to it with a childish desperation that he thought had been beaten out of him long ago. He tried to swallow but his throat had gone cotton-dry. His tongue cleaved mute to the roof of his mouth. This isn't real.

He blinked, and suddenly it was Furlan in your shredded uniform, or you in his. A dizzy panic clawed up Levi's chest. He shook his head, looked away and back- and the scene changed. The hollowed pallor of your cheeks was that of his mother's corpse, a dim memory of hell. He thought he might be sick, thought wildly that he couldn't vomit in front of the other Scouts, couldn't let them see such filthy weakness- but that was forgotten when you opened your eyes.

You stared blindly at the wide, wide sky, and Levi saw Isabel in your place. Not again. Please, not again. He watched your chest rise and fall like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth, like he was the one willing it to continue. Please.

"Le-vi...?" Your voice shocked him into sanity. He cupped your cheeks in trembling hands.

"I'm here, I'm here," he rasped. "I've got you. Stay with me."

You slowly dragged your fingers through the blood on your uniform, then held them in front of your face. You didn't seem to understand where it came from, what had happened. Levi moved into your sightline. You reached for him, but your head lolled and your arm fell back in the next instant. Levi caught your hand and lifted it the rest of the way, pressing your bloody fingers to his lips.

"I'm here," he repeated, fixated again on the defiant movement of your chest as you slipped back into unconsciousness. "I'll protect you."

The other soldiers were shuffling about, some trying to quiet their nervous horses. Levi forced himself to inject authority into his voice, to project some stability on the surface as he crumbled within, never taking his eyes from your face. "I'm riding back with you. Let's go."

Eager to go home, the camp moved quickly at his order. Someone hitched Levi's horse to the wagon were you lay, seeing that the Captain wasn't about to leave your side.

Your body seemed to shift before Levi's eyes, a mist poured into the shape of the ones he had already failed, already lost. Their corpses laid atop yours, or beside you, or sprawled at your feet until he forced them away, the sight of your breathing like a talisman. Your blood dried and flaked on his cheek, but he hardly felt the itch. His cravat lay abandoned on the filthy floor.

Every jolt of the wheels made him grit his teeth, fighting down a surge of rage at the horses, the stones that made them stumble, the ground itself for not softening for you. He wanted to carry you home himself, wanted to tear off his own legs and offer them up for you. He wanted to wake up.

He spoke to you, the words pouring out, unstoppable. Vows to protect you, spiraling into impossibility- he'd kill every last titan to make sure they never touched you again, he'd give you his blood to replace what you'd lost, he'd burn down the world to keep you warm.

Confessions that had never passed his lips before, spilling into the space between you, overflowing helplessly in a whisper you couldn't hear. "I love you. Did you know that? Could you tell?" He choked on it. "I fucking love you. I didn't want to, but I do, and I need you to come back, so I can tell you to your goddamn face."

He couldn't stop touching you, kneeling at your side, his legs long gone numb. He brushed the stringy hair from your forehead, warmed your hands in his, smoothed the blanket back over your wounds. When there was nothing left to do, he did it all over again, repeating the words until they hung in the air and piled over your body, still breathing, only just.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Please.

[haveyoureadthisbook-poll]

[lonelyshuichilover]

man im drawing some of the characters for my fanganronpa (@danganronpa11-desperatehope), and bro, jared looks kinda similar

is that kel from the hit game omori ?! /j yeah, his chibi looks similar but then you look at the sprite

bro who are you modern kel ?! singer kel ?! kel in his millionaire era ?! /j anyway, idk what im doing man

Mod Shuichi

[julianavalds]

ESPERANZA in Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (2002) dir. Kelly Asbury, Lorna Cook

↳ requested by @thesparksbro

[flan-tasma]

Ok so this is for whenever you start posting again, and this contains a tiny spoiler for the new archon quest so if you haven't done it yet then you can ignore this So you know how during the archon quest Arlecchino confronts Furina when she's alone? That but with Dom Lyney (or Freminet if you don't do requests for Lyney yet i'll be happy with either one) and reader is Furina's assistant/servant (Not like neuvillette like they serve Furina and stuff) And instead of attacking the Reader Lyney (or Freminet depending on you choose to write) Fucks them? Yeah that's it, i feel like this is a little different from the other nsfw requests you've done so if this makes you uncomfortable then feel free to delete this

���~ I haven't gotten to that part in the game yet, but I already wanted to write this kdhkdhd Sorry for the delay! :(((((

Writing Freminet crying and then Lyney horny is the most "sex mode: on" thing I've ever done.

I liked the idea of putting Reader as a lady-in-waiting in the care and service of Furina, I couldn't stop thinking that I would like to write for Furina with a Reader like this and the life they have together kdhkdhd ✨✨✨✨

Warning: smut, there is consent! Fem!Reader | Google Translate sponsors me (it's a lie) If I made any mistakes in the english translation, I would be happy to read your comments! | Content in spanish and english

Spanish:

La arconte Hydro te había enviado a buscar comida para gatos con la esperanza de hacer que un pequeño minino se dejara acariciar, parecía una misión sencilla comparada con las tareas que solían darte en los momentos más aleatórios, pero sonreíste, te inclinaste y seguiste la orden de tu señora. Poco sabías que ni bien cruzaras la esquina para ir a la cocina algo te interceptaría.

Una flecha había dejado la manga de tu camisa atravesada en la pared, el metal no te permitía liberarte y el olor a fuego que chamuscó tu ropa te alarmó. Entre las sombras apareció a quien menos habías esperado encontrar entre los pasillos tan cercanos a tu arconte y eso te hizo sudar más.

Lyney, vestido con su usual traje de mago con sombrero de copa, no te miraba con la galantería usual que demostró entre sus actos en los que acompañabas a la arconte Hydro, su sonrisa coqueta se mostraba muerta, con una expresión seria. Se acercó poco a poco a ti, acorralándote contra la pared en la que estabas.

"Monsieur Lyney, el uso de armas contra mi está restringido." Recordaste al mago que por fin te miró a los ojos, sonriendo de una manera extraña.

"Vamos, mon chéri, ¿el riesgo no es la parte más divertida de nuestra relación?" Las palabras burlonas de Lyney te golpearon salvajemente en el corazón, sonrojándote cuando su mano alcanzó tu mentón para mirarte mejor. "Habíamos hablado acerca de algo como esto antes, ¿o vine en mal momento?"

No podías dejar esperando a Furina tanto tiempo o te haría algún berrinche, pero las manos de Lyney en tu cintura y sus labios en tu cuello se sintieron más embriagadores que las anteriores veces en las que el mago se coló a tu habitación para un encuentro carnal. Sus dedos hábiles desataron tu corsé y solo pudiste tomar su cuello con un brazo para acercarlo para besar sus labios. Su semblante serio te daba una inquietante señal de que no te dejaría ir en mucho tiempo, y te lo confirmó cuando quitó la flecha de tu manga y te metió a una habitación cercana, un almacén en donde te presionó contra la pared mientras dejaba caer la vestimenta que usabas como dama de Furina. La falda larga cayó al suelo junto al corsé y la camisa chamuscada, la blusa interior desapareció entre la oscuridad del armario mientras Lyney creaba marcas en tus pechos.

"Lamento si... vine en un mal momento." Las palabras de Lyney estaban cargadas de arrepentimiento y culpa, pero su tono hambriento mientras se metía una de tus tetas a la boca, chupaba y su lengua masajeaba tu pezón con furia. Estaba tan necesitado, habiendo pasado semanas desde que te había visitado por última vez y ambos se necesitaban. "Pero puedes hacer esto por mi, ¿verdad? Puedes perdonarme luego."

Los dedos de Lyney jugaron con tu botón sensible a través de la ropa, manchando cada vez más la tela hasta que no fuera más que un mal necesario que quitaría del camino para tocarte más profundamente con dos dedos que entraban y salían manchados de humedad.

"O s-si quieres no me perdones." Querías preguntarle a qué diablos se refería, pero sus labios te besaron más rápido, callando lo que fuera que tuvieras en la cabeza y haciéndote mover contra sus dedos en busca de lo que ambos sabían que tendrían. El miembro de Lyney jugó con tus pliegues antes de entrar al mismo tiempo que sus manos dejaban marcas severas en tu cintura, sus jadeos se quebraron cuando te empezó a empujar fuertemente contra la pared y besaba tu pecho, en donde estaría tu corazón mientras se disculpaba por necesitarte tanto, por amarte tanto que lo único que quería ahora era llenarte hasta que el día acabe. "Te amo, de ve-verdad. Eso no es mentira, mon chéri."

Lyney lloraba por el placer mezclado con la culpa de estar engañándote para que Padre pudiera quitarle la gnosis al arconte Hydro, por haber empezado a visitarte para descubrir la rutina de Furina, por haberte usado hasta enamorarse de ti hasta el punto en que ahora gemía contra tu piel caliente y sudaba contra tu carne, machacando su polla contra tus paredes que apretaban su forma de manera perfecta.

La culpa no superó al placer cuando pintó tus entrañas con su semen y mordió tu cuello hasta dejar una bonita marca rojiza. Sus caderas no se detuvieron y siguió golpeando tus zonas sensibles y mojadas entre beso desordenados. Soltó más frases amorosas contra tu oído, maldiciendo internamente si luego pensabas que eran las mentiras más viles, marcó tu cuerpo para que no lo olvides si lo mandabas al diablo cuando te enteres de su engaño.

"Me dejarás follarte como disculpa, ¿verdad?" Lyney sonrió ante tu rostro bañado en lujuria, con tu perfecto maquillaje corrido y los labios de ambos manchados con labial. "Me aseguraré de follarte tan bien que me perdonarás todo, déjame mostrártelo."

English:

The Hydro archon had sent you to find cat food in the hopes of getting a little kitten to pet, it seemed like a simple mission compared to the tasks she usually gave you at the most random moments, but you smiled, bowed and followed the order of your lady. You didn't know that as soon as you crossed the corner to go to the kitchen something would intercept you.

An arrow had left the sleeve of your shirt pierced in the wall, the metal did not allow you to free yourself and the smell of fire that singed your clothes alarmed you. From the shadows, someone you had least expected to find appeared among the corridors so close to your archon and that made you sweat more.

Lyney, dressed in his usual magician outfit with a top hat, did not look at you with the usual gallantry that he showed between his shows in which you accompanied the archon Hydro, his flirtatious smile was dead, with a serious expression. He slowly approached you, cornering you against the wall you were on.

"Monsieur Lyney, the use of weapons against me is restricted." You remembered the magician who finally looked you in the eyes, smiling in a strange way.

"Come on, mon chéri, isn't risk the most fun part of our relationship?" Lyney's teasing words hit you savagely in the heart, blushing as his hand reached for your chin to get a better look. "We'd talked about something like this before, or did I come at the wrong time?"

You couldn't keep Furina waiting for so long or she would throw a tantrum, but Lyney's hands on your waist and his lips on your neck felt more intoxicating than the previous times the magician snuck into your room for a carnal encounter. His skillful fingers untied your corset and you could only grab his neck with one arm to bring him closer to kiss his lips. His serious expression gave you a disturbing sign that he wouldn't let you go for a long time, and he confirmed it when he removed the arrow from your sleeve and took you into a nearby room, a warehouse where he pressed you against the wall while he dropped the outfit you wore as Furina's lady-in-waiting. The long skirt fell to the floor next to the corset and the singed shirt, the undershirt disappeared into the darkness of the closet while Lyney created marks on your breasts.

"I'm sorry if... I came at a bad time." Lyney's words were laced with regret and guilt, but his tone was hungry for as he took one of your tits into his mouth, sucking and his tongue furiously massaging your nipple. He was so needy, it having been weeks since he had last visited you and you both needed each other. "But you can do this for me, right? You can forgive me later."

Lyney's fingers played with your sensitive button through your clothing, staining more and more of the fabric until it was nothing more than a necessary evil that he would move out of the way to touch you deeper with two fingers that moved in and out smeared with moisture.

"Or i-if you want, don't forgive me." You wanted to ask him what the hell he meant, but his lips kissed you faster, hushing whatever was on your mind and making you move against his fingers in search of what you both knew you'd have. Lyney's cock played with your folds before entering at the same time as his hands left severe marks on your waist, his gasps breaking as he began to push you hard against the wall and kissed your chest, where your heart would be as he apologized for needing you so much, for loving you so much that the only thing he wanted now was to fill you until the day is over. "I love you, really. That's not a lie, mon chéri."

Lyney cried out of pleasure mixed with guilt that he was tricking you so that Father could take Hydro Archon's gnosis, that he had started visiting you to discover Furina's routine, that he had used you until he fell in love with you to the point where he was now moaning against your skin hot and sweaty against your flesh, grinding his cock against your walls that squeezed his form perfectly.

The guilt didn't outweigh the pleasure when he painted your insides with his cum and bit your neck until he left a nice reddish mark. His hips didn't stop and he continued hitting your sensitive, wet areas between messy kisses. He blurted out more loving phrases against your ear, internally cursing if you then thought they were the vilest lies, he marked your body so you wouldn't forget it if you sent him to hell when you found out about his deceit.

"You'll let me fuck you as an apology, right?" Lyney smiled at your face bathed in lust, with your perfect makeup smudged and both of your lips stained with lipstick. "I'll make sure to fuck you so good that you'll forgive me for everything, let me show you."

[mochinomnoms]

francesca (1K Follower Special Event)

art: “hold me, dear” by raiain

“Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I” — Hozier, Francesca from “Unreal Unearth” Their love for you is so overwhelming, so profuse, their hunger for love is worse than their hunger for food, water, or sleep. They yearn for you and your affections, like a baby yearns for the embrace of their parents. From the gods above, to the demons below, there is no where that can house or comprehend the love you share with them. spotify playlist

A song fic event to celebrate over 1,000 followers!

Requests are closed

Rules

Anyone can use this event and prompts on their own blog! Tag me in so I can read all your stories!

This event will be for TWST on my end, others are free to use for whatever they'd like!

All request will be up to 500 words, with a max of 3 characters per request

Chose one prompt for each request with one song (randomly selected line will be used for the request), and indicate if you want romantic or platonic. You can also indicate if you want fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, nsfw etc.

Reader will default to gender-neutral unless asked otherwise

Dialogue Prompts (@mcflymemes: 1/2/3)

“It's funny. Sometimes I think I've already fallen in love with you as much as possible… and then we share a night like this.”

“I'm falling more and more in love with you every day.”

“Do you feel connected to me when we're together like that?”

“You made a few sounds I've never heard before.”

“Can I get you anything? Do you need me to do anything?”

“Touch me like that again.”

“You look so good like this.”

“Tell me when I can move.”

“It's like your body was built for mine.”

“You like that, don't you.”

“You don't know what that does to me.”

“Kiss me again, and don't stop this time.”

“I can't bear the thought of living without you.”

“You complete me.”

“I want all of you. Every piece of you.”

“I won't lose you again.”

“You're the most important person I have ever known.”

“The universe gave you to me.”

“Can I kiss you again? I promise I won't get carried away.”

“Where you go, I follow.”

Song Selection

Hozier, “Unreal Unearth”; “Wasteland, Baby!”; “Nina Cried Power — EP”

De Selby (Part 1)

De Selby (Part 2)

Francesca

Eat Your Young

First Light

Movement

Talk

Be

Sunlight

NFWMB

Moment's Silence (Common Tongue)

Rio Romero, “Good God!”

Inarticulation

Nothing's New

Twice

Eyedress, “Let's Skip to the Wedding”

Romantic Lover

Jealous

Kiss Me Like It's the First Time

Ricky Montgomery, “Montgomery Ricky”

Line Without a Hook

My Heart Is Buried in Venice

Mr. Loverman

Kali Uchis, “Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios)”

la luna enamorada

telepatía

Misc. Artists

See You Again (Tyler, The Creator, “Flower Boy”)

Me Gustas Tu (Manu Chao, “Próxima Estación: Esperanza”)

Die For You (The Weeknd, “Starboy”)

🎶 francesca masterlist 🎶

“It ain’t workin’ ‘cause you’re perfect”: jamil viper x gn!reader — #19

“And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight”: azul ashengrotto x gn!reader — #15

“Be like the love that discovered the sin”; “And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice”; “If I could hold you for a minute/I'd go through it again”: jade leech, trey clover, ace trappola (separate) x gn!reader — #16

“Y al contemplarla en su mirada”: azul ashengrotto x gn!reader — #4

“I always want your love”: ruggie bucchi x gn!reader — #19

“Oh, was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden”; “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around”: leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto (separate) x gn!reader — #15 [PENDING]

“Si te tuviera de frente, la mente te la volaría”; “You know that I can see right through you”: deuce spade, lilia vanrouge (separate) x gn!reader — #9 [QUEUED]

“'Cause we've found ourselves in quite a situation”: silver x gn!reader — #9

“The sky set to burst, the gold and the rust”; “But after this, I'm never gonna be the same”: jade leech, floyd leech (separate) x gn!reader — #3

“It's got nothing to do with us”: divus crewel x gn!reader — #16

“One look is all it takes”: floyd leech x afab gn!reader — #15

“I'm not always right”; “It's gonna happen sometimes”; “I don't think of giving up”: azul ashengrotto, riddle rosehearts, kalim al-asim (separate) x f!reader — #14

“You know I'm just a flight away”: floyd leech x gn!reader — #7

“I can hear your thoughts like a melody”: kalim al-asim x gn!reader — #19

“I wish I could fall in love with you again”; “I know I can fall in love”; “I can only hope that’s what you are craving too”: jack howl, sebek zigvolt, silver (separate) x gn!reader — #19

“Que se podría hacer el amor por telepatía”: jade leech x gn!reader — #4

“And are you pretty or handsome? My words are on ransom”; “With you by my side is where I wanna stand”: trey clover, ruggie bucchi (separate) x gn!reader — #11

“Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free”: silver x gn!reader — #15

“La venganza es dulce, ¿sabes? (Dulce, dulce, dulce, dulce, dulce)”: ace trappola, deuce space (poly) x gn!reader — #1

“I am just a line without a—”; “And if I've lost my charm / Apologies due, no harm”; “Forgive me, I'm not naïve”: floyd leech, azul ashengrotto, jade leech (separate) x gn!reader — #19 & #16

“Me gusta volver, me gustas tú”: jack howl x gn!reader — #13

“Nothing fucks with my baby”; “I'd wanna be felled by you”: leona kingscholar, vil schoenheit (separate) x gn!reader — #16

“And I've found hope in a heart attack”: jack howl x gn!reader — #13

Bonus:

“Heaven is not fit to hold a love like you and I”: ace trappola, deuce spade (poly) x gn!reader — #1

“¿Qué horas son, mi corazón?”: grim (platonic) x gn!reader — #20

[manygeese]

two years into this and I haven’t made an intro post

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

get to know me:

Hi! You can call me Goose or Geese! I like to write and draw, and my current interest is PJO/HoO, specifically HoO :)

my favorite movies:

Clue (1985)

Cinderella (1997)

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Bye Bye Birdie (1995)

(and others I probably forgot)

my favorite books

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin

Cheaper by the Dozen by Ernestine Gilbreth Carey and Frank Bunker Gilbreth, Jr.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (again)

Twelfth Knight by Olivie Blake (Alexene Farol Follmuth)

Ao3:

Tags:

#small town affair valgrace au: finished fic on Ao3. Leo’s the adopted son of a farmer who’s not quite realized he’s gay yet, and Jason’s a big city guy who applied for this farmhand job and is now crushing on his boss, Piper’s cute brother. Oneshots in this series’s universe are in progress.

#sally and esperanza au: au inspired by @poppitron360 where Sally and Esperanza fall in love when the latter and Leo move to New York. Gaea sucks them up when Leo and Percy are 8/9, leaving them to get dragged to camp by Grover. I might write snippets of it- taking requests on what scenes to rewrite!

#hoo high school au: ongoing (?) fic on Ao3. A collection of one-shots centered around Piper, Leo, Jason and Reyna (including valgrace and pipeyna, inspired by @demigod-shenanigans). No set update schedule but I’ll get back to writing it soon! Under the title Fast Times at New Rome High on my Ao3.

#valgrace sleeping beauty au: finished fic on Ao3. A little tweaked, but basically just a valgrace sleeping beauty au. Under the title Once Upon a Dream on my Ao3. (kind of toying with the idea of writing a version that’s more loyal to original?)

#the seven’s dynamics: ongoing (?) series, on Ao3, but not really a collection. Just exploring dynamics neglected by the HoO books.

[merrock]

information

full name: Joshua Akio Lane

nickname(s) / goes by: Josh, Joshy, Akio

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

sexuality: straight

birth date: April 12, 1978

birth place: Kyoto, Japan

arrival to merrock: 1978, a few days after birth

housing: countryside

occupation: psychologist, bike mechanic

work place: Community Center, Takato’s

family: Charles & Madison Lane (adopted father & mother), Takato Shimizo (birth father)

relationship status: in a relationship with Esperanza Tamayo.

personality

A genuinely positive person who has always been in touch with his emotions and feels things very deeply. Josh is the kind of person who would take a bullet for a stranger and is often told that he cares a little too much about the world around him, although he wouldn’t have it any other way. He has a soft, warm personality, the kind of person that lights up the room without trying to. He draws people to him, but isn’t a pushover, knowing how and when to say no and to set boundaries. An absolute cinnamon roll, who just so happens to always have grease baked into the cracks of well-used hands from fixing your car.

portrayed by Ian Anthony Dale; penned by Katie.

full biography / background

triggering / sensitive content warning: anxiety.

The moment that Takato’s partner expressed disinterest in becoming a parent – despite the positive pregnancy test in their hands – he did everything that he could to arrange the best life possible for his unborn child, contacting the adoption agency and lining up a new home for the little one. On April 12th, 1978, when Joshua entered the world and then was placed in the arms of his new parents – Madison and Charles Lane – the only request made was that he was given the middle name Akio; a name often given to boys in Japan to help maintain their path towards their shining future. It was all that Takato wanted for his little Akio.

Childhood in Merrock was pleasant. Josh was the only child of two parents who made sure that he never wanted for anything, but never at the expense of raising an entitled child. He was never made to feel any different than the other kids in town, but his parents never held back on answering any questions about where he came from, or the culture that he would have grown up with back home, even incorporating some of it into their daily lives. He loved to play sports, and spent most of his summers on the beach, whether it be boogie boarding, learning to surf, or just splashing in the water. Every Sunday morning – at least the ones that cooperated, weather-wise – his family took long hikes in the state park with a picnic lunch by the water.

But that perfect, idyllic childhood didn’t come without its shake ups, as a young, teenaged Josh was introduced to his birth father on a random Monday afternoon, seeing him for the first time on his living room couch, nervously wringing his hands. For the first few years of their time together, Joshua felt angry and upset, unsure if he should let his father back into his life, not understanding why he wanted to be in his life now, why he hadn’t wanted him as a baby. But with time came understanding – from both of them – and with the permission of the Lanes, Takato made the move to Merrock full-time to build a relationship and a life with his son. He spent weekends taking him fishing, on a motorcycle ride for his sixteenth birthday, attended all of his track and field meets, and became his best friend, as well.

While flourishing in his relationship with his father, coming to love and appreciate this adoptive family even more, being active on a few sports teams, and pulling some of the best grades in his school, Josh also dealt with a lot of anxiety. He was the one hard on himself when a track meet didn’t end the way he wanted, or cried when he got an answer wrong in school. It was no surprise that his fingers shook as he read his prepared valedictorian speech. Dealing with those emotions and the distress that came with it made him want to dig in a little deeper, and he chose to attend the University of Maine (close to home!) to study psychology. During his college years, he lived a pretty clean, studious life, choosing to watch a movie with a friend over attending keggers, drinking seltzer waters over glasses of wine. To this day, he hasn’t smoked a cigarette. But he didn’t live like a complete monk; Josh also discovered his love of women, having broken things off with his high school sweetheart, Espie, for them to explore their options in their young adult years. But it didn’t break his focus, and he graduated at the top of his class.

Luckily for Josh, the ‘Lane’ last name came with recognition to go with his diploma and educational qualifications, and he soon landed himself a position as a psychologist at a clinic just outside of town, quickly amassing a large amount of happy clients due in part to his kind, easygoing, laidback nature. But it didn’t stop him, a few years into his practice, from starting to feel that nagging feeling in his chest that he was doing the wrong thing, that this wasn’t where he wanted to be. Mostly because he realized that he was helping people who could afford the help… and not those who really needed it the most. Still, he held fast, doing everything that he could to regain the passion that he felt he was losing for his chosen career until he hit the ripe old age of forty… and also burn out.

In another stroke of luck, Takato offered Josh a job – and business partnership – working in the motorcycle garage that he had just opened, having finally saved up enough money to open his own business. Having loved that bike ride at sixteen, and spending the time with his father, he accepted the position eagerly. It wasn’t long after he settled into what he thought would be his forever routine that another opportunity came knocking in the form of the director of the community center. Despite not having much money to offer, nor a promise of good hours, Joshua was asked to become a counselor at the center for those who needed the help but maybe couldn’t afford to see a psychologist.

For the past few years, Josh has been happily building up his reputation in the community center -- where he spends as much time coordinating and helping with events as he does healing young minds -- and the bike and classic car garage that he and his father have built up together. He is happily in a relationship with that high school sweetheart he could never quite get off his mind, and spends most of his free time fishing, running, walking his dog, or tending to his aquarium fish... when he's not on his bike.

[veilguardiumleviosa]

Prompt List

Welcome to the landing zone for my @thedasweekend prompt list! I'll keep it updated whenever something new or different strikes my fancy, but for now here we go!

I mainly write Veilguard and Inquisition (but won't turn away a DAII or DAO prompt), and I love to write angst, slice of life, fluff, hurt/comfort, found family, etc. I also love a character study and diving into Thedas lore!

Current top ask game pick: Rook Tarot

Full list of the OCs and pairings you can request are below the cut as well as a growing collection of all fave ask games!

VEILGUARD Echo de Riva (Emmrich) Esperanza "Esper" de Riva (Lucanis) Melisandre "Mel" Mercar (Neve) Cyrus Mercar (Neve) Amara Thorne (Davrin) Love Ingellvar (Emmrich) Cas Laidir (Taash) Victory "Vic" Laidir (Emmrich) Other Veilguard pairings I'll write: Taash/Harding Bellara/Neve Emmrich/Strife

INQUISITION Lyra Lavellan (Solas) Leonardo "Leo" Trevelyan (Dorian) Wisp Lavellan (Iron Bull) Andromeda "Andy" Trevelyan (Cullen) Faolan Lavellan (Cassandra) Avi Trevelyan (Josephine)

DAII Marian Hawke (Anders) Garrett Hawke (Fenris) Tryst Hawke (Isabella)

ORIGINS Mateo "Teo" Cousland (Zevran) Luna Surana (Alistair) Violet Amell (Leliana)

ASK GAMES Rook Codex Rook Storytime Rook Literary Device The Horrors Rook Tarot

[all-time-alt-country-singer]

ooc:

hey y’all! Just a little check in

I did send in a request for the Riordanverse to data base account, but I think I fucked it up, so you can send in a request if you want 🤷. I think our group is just “mortal parent hang out”

ummm I hope you guys are having fun :)

this list should be put to date:

Sally Jackson- @i-sell-seashells-by-the-seashore

Beryl Grace- @yourlocalsuperstar

Esperanza Valdez- @esperanza-valdez-official

Maria di Angelo- @that-one-lover-of-hades

Kelly- @professional-disney-adult

Sora Tora- @sora-tora

Léa La rue- @the-original-la-rue

Alina Czajka- @alina-wonders

[k0dster]

I'd kill for an Antón Castillo x reader fic. Eternally grateful to you in fact. There's so little content for him.

Anything from being devoted to him to being broken and swayed to his side. Maybe the reader taking him up on his offer to become *his* general. Perhaps flustering the shit outta that old man. Maybe something that leans a little bit into toxic yaoi ass stuff, maybe something soft. I dunno, I'm starving. I don't wanna be picky. I can provide more ideas as well.

And, if not, it's okay! Thank you!

See-Line Woman

Antón Castillo x G!N reader

Word count: 2.5k+

Author's notes: Actually screamed when I read Antóns name. Absolutely awful old men? Swooned. Head over heels. Gonna play in before game Antón, when his leukemia isn't nearly as bad and Dani hasn't killed like half of Yara yet lmao. I don't wanna ramble too long but if you've got anymore Antón requests or just FC6 in general I'm actually begging you to send them in. Don't be afraid to be picky, the more specific the better. (Apology for how long this took me, I started writing this and then I got sick, and busy, and life stuff hit ugh...Another side note: only took me like 5 replays of this game to read the plaques outside of the capital that explain that they finished building the capital in 2019 as a tribute to Antóns father, and because I was already almost done writing this when I realized that Diego literally can't be like 7 in this because the capital didn't even exist yet… I'm probably the only one who cares about this like at all, but it was really bothering me) Anyways, I hope you enjoy, I had a wonderful time writing for our favorite senior citizen <3

No summary because I am tired, the request pretty much sums it up though

I had a specific two songs in mind for this so here's a link to it.

Requests here

•°☆°•

It was an unusually cold night for the usually scorching Yara. A soft breeze rattled the fronds high in the palms, and the white caps of the ocean crashed in a gentle rhythm as they ran along the sand. The moon hung high and bright in the sky, dimming the twinkling stars that dangled in the inky darkness surrounding it. Though, just like everywhere in Esperanza, even Isla de León wasn't safe from the blinding glow of the capital, obscuring the stars and leaving the moon glazed over, hidden by the warmth of the sun. The entirety of Yara seemed to revolve around Torre del León as if it were the sun; it was certainly bright enough. Even from the back patio, the peak of the tower loomed over the house, stretching and warping into an even bigger achievement as it reflected against the pool. You understood why Castillo spent his days there. They were one and the same. They turned heads, gave off a wonderful warmth of security that made the whole country listen. But in Torre del León, at least, the floors hidden from the public were nothing—full of meaningless furniture and marble flooring.

Tonight, he was spending time on his island, holding an extravagant house party to which you had been graciously invited to stand outside. The backyard wasn't the worst place in the world; landscapers came every week to keep the bushes at a reasonable length, and the pool smelled of bitter chlorine. But it was cool and quiet compared to the bustling mansion. Guard patrol wasn't exactly what you had signed up for when you took the president's gracious offer to allow you to be his general, you were more accustomed to long hours accompanying him and Diego at the hip to various meetings and events. The rank gave you a definite power that separated you from the rest of the army, gave you authority over your former peers, but it dwindled tonight as you lingered around the back steps on a well-needed smoke break.

The rumors of how you'd come to land your position had varied—from sleeping with the president to bribery; you'd heard everything under the sun. The things you didn't hear were loud enough, shared in deep glares and passing looks from fellow soldiers. The worst of all was the queen of propaganda herself, María Marquessa. It was no secret she and Antón had shared their moments in the past, one of their bigger moments coming in the form of his heir. They denied it day in and day out, but in the end, it didn't stop the quickly growing accusations. You knew María had attended tonight; word about who was at the manor got around pretty quickly between the graveyard shift, especially for bigger events. María was worse than the others; she didn't give you dirty looks or voice her opinion—she kept to herself, forcing smiles and basking in petty attempts at trying to mask her obvious hatred. You couldn't quite comprehend why she was so resentful. In all honesty, you should have been jealous of her. Antón handed her her whole life: her academy, her surgeries, Yaravision. She stood much higher than you ever would, and yet she couldn't seem to see it that way.

You wouldn't deny most of the rumors regarding you and the president weren't exactly far-fetched, though it was nothing of the glamorous relationship everyone made it out to be. He wasn't the man everyone made him out to be. You had fought tooth and nail in the academy, clawing for anything he could possibly see as success, to make yourself stand out. He certainly saw you, and it wasn't long before you were thrown into the spotlight, praised as a star, and shown more love and admiration than you'd ever received in your life. But every star burns out, and once you found yourself at his side, you no longer shined. Everything you were once praised for became nothing, leaving a hole of guilt as again and again you were told what you could be doing better, how Antón's life was at stake, and how the finite details of every speck of your life suddenly became the reason he'd be gone. You tried not to dwell on it too much, the fact you were responsible for not just one but two lives now, one of which you cared for much more than you were willing to admit.

The smoke of your cigarette eased its way into the sky, filling the air with the sour smell of burning tobacco. The party had slowly been coming to an end, with the remaining crowd saying their goodbyes to the other guests, though a grinding pair of heels caught your attention—different from the usual lost patron who stumbled into the backyard. María, as spiteful as she was, was beautiful. Her makeup was spotless, her blonde hair spun into meticulously brushed curls, her purple dress skin-tight, showing off the years' worth of work she'd put into herself. Gold jewelry hung just about everywhere she could manage, a quick, flashy reminder of her success. They caught the light that hung above the back door as she stopped in front of you, glimmering against her warm skin. Her bracelets clattered together when her hand met her hip, a gentle smile finding her face. There was something so fake about her smile—maybe it was all the surgery, or maybe it was the snarky tone she took on when she spoke.

"Slow night?" she asked, fanning her free hand in front of her face as your cigarette finally reached her, her face scrunching into a nauseating grimace. You had to admit they tasted different since Viviro had started being produced—something to do with the new chemical fertilizer that produced more tobacco down in José's fields. It had made the smell less earthy, almost artificial, but you had been assured the chemicals were safe, and so far, there had been nothing suggesting they weren't.

"You could say that." Slow was an understatement. But you didn't want to entertain her conversation. She seemed upset at the lack of response, deciding on a different approach.

"Antón was looking for you." You weren't sure if she knew how much it bothered everyone when she addressed him by his first name. The bite behind her words suggested she did.

"I bet he was," you almost winced as you forced a sarcastic smile. "And he sent you out here to come find me?" There was a beat of contemplation from Marquessa, as she grappled with her lie, trying to come up with a single reason she would've been back here, but the back door opening cut her off. You knew who it was before you even got a chance to look, the immediate change in Marquessa spoke volumes. His suit was a blinding white, accented in a deep red that matched the flag he hung proudly around the estate. It was freshly pressed, his red tie tight around his neck, held in place with one of the golden lion pins he always wore.

Your back instinctively straightened, hand itching to push into a salute as he looked between the two of you, magically dissolving whatever issues María had with you tonight. She put on the best smile she could muster, her hand sliding off her hip to rest against her side.

"María," he seemed caught off guard, but he didn't miss a beat. "Shouldn't you be inside? The backyard isn't exactly open to guests." The way she frantically tried to explain herself was laughable, tripping over her words over and over trying to find something presentable enough to keep her image.

"Looks like he found me, and all on his own. Wouldn't you look at that?" You couldn't resist a jab at her, crumbling her current lie into another one. Under the warm porch light you could see the red staining her cheeks, her usual, practiced facade slipping into a mess of anxiety. Antón was quiet as he listened to her explanation, eventually the woman realized there was no use trying to explain herself and the backyard fell into silence once more. Music softly strummed its way through the open door, mixing into a serenade with the crickets and careful wind that carried itself through the yard. His smile was stiff, there was understandably no warmth to it.

"Goodnight, Ms. Marquessa." It was his way of telling her their one sided conversation was over, not so subtly excusing her. It was almost aggravating how quickly she changed in his presence, bothered by the idea that she could say anything that might upset him. She smiled and it was the most real one you'd seen from her, a sharp breath seeping its way into her nose. They stood for a while, sharing a look that only they understood the meaning behind, then she slipped past him and back into the house, but not without shooting you another dagger filled glance.

The atmosphere felt immediately lighter when he leaned against the wall beside you—maybe "lighter" wasn't the term; it was different. You doubted he would ever open up about his relations with María, certainly not with you. Whatever they had between them was clearly long gone, but you couldn't help worrying about where you stood. Maybe there truly was nothing there; whatever spark they had, however long ago, had snuffed itself out. But even if there wasn't, she was always around. Parties, meetings, dinner—anytime she could push her way into his life, she found it.

"I apologize for her; she's—" he carefully began, his hands working to smooth a wrinkle on his jacket.

"A bitch," you spoke before you even had time to think. The air suddenly felt heavy in your lungs, your uniform too tight around your neck, leaving a gaping hole of uncertainty in your chest. Maybe you had overstepped; even if you had, he didn't show it. He was near impossible to read. As hard as you tried, he never let himself slip.

"That is a word for it," he chuckled, studying your cigarette and the smoke that seeped from it. Your hand moved to grasp it between your fingers; it was practically burnt out, but you offered it out to him anyway. The president was quick to turn you down, muffling a cough into his sleeve.

At his decline, you finished it off, snuffing it to ash under your boot. It left a sour taste that leaked down your throat—a burning sensation, almost. They had lost the taste that made them unmistakably Yaran.

"Yaran has gone to shit, you know?" He spoke your thoughts, but you couldn't help filing around your pockets for another. It didn't matter how they tasted; settling the tremble in your hands was more than enough to mask over the rancid aftertaste

"What a wonderful way to speak about your country."

"It's true. I smoke Mexican." Of course he did. You were out of matches which left you disappointedly searching your pockets for a light. Antón was quick to provide, his hand dipping into his own pocket to fish out a gold lighter. The front was engraved with a beautiful lion, the edges scuffed and dull from obvious years of use. You got a whiff of his cologne when he flicked it open, casting a dull flame against your face.

The music eventually faded into a light, jazzy tune, rolling its way through the open door. He found the beat, tapping his shoe against the tile in a steady rhythm as he softly hummed along. It seemed familiar, even if you couldn’t place where, he seemed comfortably in tune with it.

“Dance with me?” He suddenly spoke up, flashing you a rare smile as he offered out a hand. You were tentative to take it, but eventually you gave in, smoke trailing you as he gracefully pulled you away from the wall and into the spotlight shining from the gap in the foyer. He was obviously much more content with the beat, flowing with a practiced ease as you fumbled to keep up. You felt as if you were only stumbling within his orbit; he was the sun and the rest of the world orbited around him. You found yourself wondering how many people were close enough to him to even have that thought.

He was a wonderful dancer, setting the pace and allowing you to flow with him, occasionally pushing you out into a tight twirl before pulling you back to him. You could really smell his cologne this close; it was definitely expensive. Leathery with maybe a dash of amber. It was strong, but it was hard to mask the harshly sweet scent of the cigars he was always smoking. It nearly made you self-conscious about the fact you probably smelled like cigarettes and dry cleaning. You didn't have time to linger on it very long before his arm wrapped snugly around your waist. He slowed his pace, allowing for a second to bask in the moment, trying your hardest to memorize every detail before it faded away into the obscurity of your thoughts. The way your boots made you feel clumsy, the way your uniform suddenly felt too tight against your back, the cigarette dangling between the fingers on your free hand, but most of all you'd noticed how you'd settled. All of a sudden, the day didn't feel near as long, and the ache in your legs drifted elsewhere as you swayed around the yard, allowing the world around you to fade away until there was nothing but the tempo of the music and him.

Inevitably, the tune dwindled away into another song, and it left you gnawing at the idea that the moment had come to an unceremonious end and everything would resume as it once was. He'd continue on as if nothing had happened, and you'd resume your nightly patrol with nothing but a heavy heart and a longing for just one more song. To your surprise, he didn't pull away; he didn't even entertain the idea that he might as he spun you around once more. When your arms draped over his neck, his hands rested over your waist, a soft smile plastered on his face.

"My mother," he softly started, "Dios, she was a wonderful singer." There was something reminiscent in his eyes you couldn't place. He was distant, far away. Somewhere deep down, he was still that 13-year-old boy, listening to his mother hum the same song inside a prison cell, wishing for a father that would never return. You couldn't help but wonder if he was anything like Diego, quiet and sincere. If maybe there was a time he was gentle, still filled with that childlike wonder his son radiated. You doubted it, but it didn't mean you couldn't dream.

You winced when the door creaked its way fully open, blinding you with bright light. You let out a soft whine of disappointment when he forced himself to pull away. You knew how it looked, and that definitely wasn't the message he wanted to portray to everyone at his party.When your eyes adjusted to the light, you were pleasantly surprised to see a set of big, brown eyes staring back at you. Diego had just turned seven and still had issues sleeping through the night. His tear-stained cheeks showed it was the same routine, but he seemed a little happier now that he'd found his father. When he straightened his suit and cleared his throat to make himself more presentable for his son, it sank in that the moment had truly come to an end. You felt the need to do something with your hands; exposed by the now lit-up yard, you pulled your smoke back to your lips, cursing yourself as the end no longer glowed and you had let it go to waste. It fell back to your side as you looked between the boy and his father, stiffening at the professional tone that had returned to his voice.

"Goodnight, general." It was addressed to you, but he had already moved on, focused on his heir.

"Goodnight, Mr. Castillo." You tried to mask the disappointment with a trained respect, hands firm behind your back, your spine straightened tight enough it hurt.

"Antón," he quickly corrected, "Please, I think we are well past formalities; call me Antón." Something about the use of his first name was intimate; it didn't feel quite reserved to you, as if you were intruding on something.

"Goodnight, Antón." Weird and unnatural was the only way you could describe it, used to the usual terms of respect you'd come to know.

"Papa!" Diego whined, forcing his father to let out a small scoff as he kept his eye roll reserved for you.

"Yes, yes, Mijo. Patience, please." His hand met the young boy's back as he turned to lead him back to his room. They exchanged a hushed conversation before his gaze met yours one last time. His wink was subtle, yet you still noticed and shot him back one of your own. The door shut, muffling the music and shadowing the backyard in the blackness of night once again, leaving you alone with nothing but the burnt-out cigarette in your hand and another lonely shift to return to.

[rabbitenn]

I’m sorry you probably get a lot of requests already!😣 but is it alright if I request a continuation for the momo x reader where they used to be lovers before momo became an idol? Maybe them on their reconnection date? Or anything you want! Take your time I love your work🥺🤍

RE: ESPERANZA.

Hope and yearning dance in his heart in shades of vibrant rose.

ft. Sunohara Momose x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance, mild angst.

hello, lovely ! thank you so, so much for this request <3 it means a lot you liked part 1 enough to request a second one (for new readers: part 1 is on my masterlist, under the title Re: connect). It makes me very happy you enjoy my works too, I hope this one is to your liking as well ! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it.

To say you are impressed would certainly be an understatement.

When Momo suggested for you two to go on a date again after five years, you didn’t imagine something like this.

He certainly managed to surprise you.

In a good way.

In a really, really good way.

Pink and purple skies dye the buildings’ windows in a dusky glow, akin to a mirror in which the sun takes one last look before meeting the moon for a few stolen instants. In the balcony you stand at, a chilly breeze ruffles through your hair, soon to be starlit, as the allure of distant sparkles begins dotting the various edifices.

Before you, a small table is set.

An expensive looking bottle of wine lays between two cups, the designer tablecloth slightly fluttering to the sounds of sunset.

The glass door behind you slides open.

You turn around, your eyes meeting fuchsia ones, the sheepish way in which they crinkle up, matching his fanged smile.

“Momo, this is…”

He averts his eyes, hibiscus hues blooming on his cheeks.

“Do you… do you like it?” The idol finally asks, shy, those big eyes of his shining in expectation.

You turn around completely to face him.

And in that moment, Momo witnesses a scene he wishes to engrave in his memory.

Behind you, windows light up, opposing the cold light of a full moon. The gentle wind blowing by carries the magic of hopeful promises made with a first love in the transition between dusk and midnights. It makes your clothes flutter, rendering you in pure magnetism. Almost like an ethereal being, destined to soar down from the havens just to land in front of him.

Momo notices he’s probably staring too much, so he busies himself by tucking his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“I love it, Momo.” You utter, softly. You tilt your head to the side, expression softening. “But why? How did you manage to rent the whole restaurant just for us two?”

Something nostalgic passes through your boyfriend, turned ex, turned boyfriend (or something like that) again.

“To make up for all the dates I didn’t take you on for the last five years.” Momo answers, tone filled with determination.

Now it is you who averts their gaze.

The past five years.

They had been a… complicated period of time, without a doubt.

Momo comes to stand beside you, arms propped on the railing as he stares into the impending night above.

He really hadn’t meant to dig up painful memories again, but this is something you both need to address.

“Momo, that’s…”

“No. Don’t say it’s in the past.” He cuts you off. You open your mouth to oppose him, but he goes on. “I’m sorry.” Momo says, sorrow lacing his tone. The idol leans his chin over his crossed arms. “Today should be happy… It’s… A date, right?” He smiles, and yet, the pent-up regret from the past half decade is so visible in his stare. Like flecks of stardust soon to be morning dew.

You scoot closer to him, arms touching as you lean your weight against the balcony too, facing the wondrous and unknown infinity above.

Your shoulder bumps against his.

“I’m happy.” You whisper. “I’m glad that we’re here now, that we’re talking again. That we’re…”

Together.

You still don’t dare say the word.

Maybe you are together in this place, yes.

But are you really together in the other sense of the word?

You know you want to be.

And he does too.

“Together.” You finally say, determination ruling your starlit gaze.

Momo glances at you, a smile dyed in hope and melancholy curling on his lips.

“And I’d like to keep it that way, you know.” You state, getting even closer to him.

One of your lover’s arms wraps around you, the warmth of his thundering heartbeat melting away the nightly autumn chill.

“Together.” He repeats, voice barely louder than a whisper. “I like how that sounds.”

“Let’s make it a thing then, no?” You grin.

Momo leaves a kiss on the corner of your lips.

Then, draping his jacket around your shoulders, he adds:

“Let’s.” Another soft kiss to your forehead. “And let’s eat too, hm?” He smiles, gesturing to the table.

When you sit down, you can’t help but think how a similar scene played out a few weeks ago. In a way less ideal atmosphere and under worse circumstances.

Eyeing the bottle of wine, you promise not to drink much this time.

You want to remember tonight.

And everything after it.

[dragonridernoobie]

Prowl Transformers x Reader

(This is for a request asked from somone who speaks Spanish. I used Google translate so it won't be the best.)

(Recuerde que hice esto a través del traductor de Google ya que no tengo idea de cómo escribir o hablar español. Yo solo se algunas palabras. ¡Espero que disfrutes esto y no dudes en volver a preguntar! ¡Todos los idiomas son bienvenidos!)

Prowl y John acuerdan que pondrán una trampa. Colocaron dinero falso dentro de una joyería con la esperanza de atraer al ladrón. Como estaba previsto, un mustang negro puro se detiene y un encapuchado sale del coche. Lo que no esperaban era que el mustang negro también se transformara.

Era un día normal en Nueva York. Prowl estaba realizando su rutina diaria con su compañero humano John. Mientras conducen por la ciudad, reciben una llamada sobre un robo. Conducen rápidamente hasta el destino pero no encuentran a nadie allí. mientras miran alrededor del lugar, no encuentran evidencia. Ambos coinciden en que quienquiera que haya hecho esto sabe lo que está haciendo.

Prowl y John acuerdan que pondrán una trampa. Colocaron dinero falso dentro de una joyería con la esperanza de atraer al ladrón. Como estaba previsto, un mustang negro puro se detiene y un encapuchado sale del coche. Lo que no esperaban era que el mustang negro también se transformara.

Mientras Prowl y John se sientan sorprendidos, Prowl sale de su estado de aturdimiento y se transforma también. saca su desintegrador y les grita a los dos ladrones que se congelen. John hace lo mismo con su arma de servicio. ranslate text with your camera

El transformador y el humano se congelan pero huyen rápidamente. el humano salta sobre el transformador mientras el mustang negro vuelve al modo Vehículo y se marcha. Prowl y John rápidamente siguen su ejemplo.

Mientras los persiguen, Prowl dispara un cable para, con suerte, hacer que el cybertroniano en ejecución se detenga o se estrelle. no funciona y el cybertroniano esquiva el cable. Prowl sigue el ritmo del cybertroniano, pero rápidamente tiene que romper cuando de repente se sale del puente. Cuando John sale y Merodea mira por el borde del puente. ven al cybertroniano en un barco que pasaba por debajo del puente y ahora se han escapado. Por una vez, Prowl fue superado.

Prowl y John pasan las próximas semanas rastreando a este misterioso cibertroniano y humano. Han participado en las mismas persecuciones una y otra vez, pero siempre terminaron en un fracaso. Prowl se estaba frustrando por una vez en su vida ya que este cybertroniano parece saber lo que está haciendo, prediciendo el movimiento que está a punto de realizar, conociendo sus límites y poniéndolo a prueba. se estaba sintiendo realmente frustrado.

Un día, Prowl tuvo su oportunidad. pudo arrinconar al cybertroniano y al humano. John y Prowl extendieron sus armas y les gritaron que se rindieran. cuando no esperaban que el suelo colapsara debajo de ellos. apenas tuvieron tiempo suficiente para reaccionar antes de caer. Cuando el polvo se disipó, Prowl se encuentra con el cybertroniano, pero el humano y su compañero se han ido.

Prowl se levanta y ve al mismo cybertroniano levantándose. les apunta con su desintegrador y les grita que no se muevan. cuando el cybertroniano señala que si dispara, hará que ambos mueran ya que había un gas inflamable a su alrededor. A Prowl no le gusta esto pero no tiene otra opción. entonces, se sientan en silencio, esperando ayuda.

Mientras esperan, Prowl les pregunta por qué están ayudando a los humanos a robar. El cybertroniano explica que lo hacen porque todo lo que roban lo venden y se lo dan a los necesitados. Además, ya no desean estar en la guerra cibertroniana. A Prowl no le gusta la idea de que roben, pero tenían el corazón en el lugar correcto. también puede entender por qué no quieren ser parte de la guerra. ya ha durado bastante.

Mientras Prowl y el cybertroniano hablan, él se encuentra escuchando cada vez más a este cibertroniano. Hablan de cómo quieren ayudar, pero no confían en todos los humanos. También explican que todo ese tiempo que estuvieron escapando fue pura suerte. Les pareció gracioso que Prowl se sintiera tan frustrado por escaparse a pesar de que era solo suerte. Prowl en realidad se encuentra disfrutando de las historias de estos cibertronianos.

Mientras hablan, Prowl aprende el nombre de este Cybertroniano (Y/N). Mientras les habla cada vez más, aceptó que no arrestará a este cybertroniano. ya que no han matado ni herido a humanos y estaban haciendo el bien. Además, intentaban vivir y no ser encontrados por los autobots, los decepticons o el gobierno humano. Él explica que los dejará ir y (Y/N) está agradecido. Cuando finalmente son rescatados, Prowl finge que (Y/N) lo golpeó y se escapó.

Después de esa interacción, Prowl y (Y/N) se encuentran en secreto y se cuentan sus problemas y los consejos que recibieron. Esto continúa por un tiempo. Intel Prowl le confiesa sus sentimientos a (Y/N). (Y/N) acepta y accede a unirse a los autobots para que Prowl pueda estar con ellos todo el tiempo. No te preocupes, (Y/N) recibió pena de cárcel por parte de Optimus por lo que hicieron.

@mgrm99

[rainbow-starheart-comission-art]

I'm honestly having little to no clue on what character design I'll make for Leonardo Jose (Esperanza's ex-husband), other than giving him a name. But if you're able to match the vision based on how I'm describing him, it's appreciated! I like to mention that I also don't want him to look like an obvious villain either, despite him being a pedophile, domestic abuser, rapist, and serial killer. (Nothing he does is depicted as a good thing. The serial killing occurred because some people were getting so concerned with Esperanza's safety, but he sees that as a threat and ensuring as long as he got rid of them... he'll be remaining in bliss with the latter, especially those who judged her for being in love with Bruno (he comes across a hypocrite for killing them since he also doesn't get what she saw in him).)

Since I think Encanto takes place in the 1950s when the movie's events occur, his birth year is in 1877 (which makes him 72, he's only around 74 when his one-sided marriage with Esperanza ends, that being in 1951.).

A frightening thing about him is that he looks a lot like the average Colombian man despite being a monster who really never should be near minors (especially given that he had an unhealthy interest in his ex-wife as a child, but waited till she's of consenting age so nobody could call him out for being a creep even though this itself doesn't make it better since he showed interest in a 10 year old).

I also am extremely worried that if I give positive traits on him, people would express unwarranted sympathy towards him (which shouldn't happen since that tells me they think Esperanza deserved the abuse he's done to her for 11 years straight and that she should've stayed with him, which is not the point I'm trying to make (if anything, it's better that it remains annulled. His relationship with her is anything but healthy.).). Hey, even if he's got good traits since he is a human being, it won't take away the fact that he's harmed someone for years, and the fact he's killed people for supposedly getting in the way of his relationship or dared to express concern what he's been doing to the latter behind closed doors, and of course, forced his underage victim he stalked for years to marry him once she's an adult.

This is the longest request ever

And the most concerning one

Never drawn a villain before (other than Vanta Black)

So sure! I try to draw him based on your description!

[cieloclercs]

Could we possibly get a sneak peek of the next sliding doors chapter?? 😉

here it is! a little snippet of domestic life with joão and esperanza… i’m saving the party scenes for when i publish the full chapter (aka they’re only in first draft stage at the moment, sorry 🫠)

read under the cut!

João hadn't bothered going back to his apartment when he arrived back from Liverpool. He went straight to Esperanza's. She was waiting for him inside, halfway through her newest painting (a commission from Mrs Davies of one of her many cats — this had become a regular occurrence since the woman found out Esperanza was a painter, and she would pay her a pretty decent sum for her efforts too). João was used to the chaos of Esperanza's apartment by now. Most of the time when he went round to see her, she would be mid-project, with her brushes and paints scattered everywhere, an old, baggy shirt framing her figure and nothing but a pencil, twisted into the curls, holding her hair into a bun on the back of her head. Her apartment almost always smelled like coffee and acrylic paint. It wasn't exactly something João had ever thought he would love as much as he did — but it just felt like Esperanza.

The story was much the same when he finally got back to the apartment complex. He knocked on her door but didn't wait for an answer before opening it (neither of them bothered anymore). Esperanza was inside, hunched over a canvas with a concentrated frown on her face and some classical piece playing softly through the speakers she always kept on the kitchen cabinet. She didn't hear him as he stepped into the room. João smiled. He'd been expecting it. She was lost to the world when she painted.

"Is that for Mrs Davies?" João's voice cut through the gentle lull or piano keys and strings. Esperanza looked up. Her frown cleared, revealing a smile like the sun when she caught sight of him.

"Yep." she nodded, struggling to her feet and dusting off her knees. They too were splattered with paint, "She's paying me sixty to do a big one of — what was his name again? — Oh, Mr Whiskers. That woman has so many cats I can't keep track."

João walked forward to stand beside her, kissing her sweetly, and looked down at the painting laid out on the floor. Just like everything Esperanza did, it was immaculate. He couldn't quite fathom just how talented she was: and just how fortunate he was to be the man in her life. In all honesty, João wasn't entirely sure what she saw in him, but at this point, he'd just take the win.

"Mrs Davies has a black cat?" he asked, scrunching up his nose in faint horror. In Esperanza's painting the cat was certainly a black one; with wide, stare-into-your-soul type of green eyes that somehow, from within the canvas, seemed to follow him when he shifted his gaze. João shuddered. He'd never been much of a cat person to begin with, but black cats were a step too far.

"Yeah, it freaks me out too." Esperanza giggled softly at the look on his face, "And I'm not usually a superstitious person, but this cat is scary. Don't tell Mrs Davies I said that."

João nodded distractedly. He'd lost his train of thought as soon as her heard her light, bubbling laugh. It was becoming one of his favourite sounds, he had recently discovered. He forfeited any capability of continuing the conversation, left with nothing but a stupid smile on his face and a blank mind. Only Esperanza ever seemed to be able to render him absolutely speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. A lot of the time, she didn't even have to do anything. João was just enamoured with her. That was all it took.

Esperanza's fingers clicked in front of his face, breaking him out of his trance. He'd been staring, it seemed, because now she was gazing up at him with a questioning smile. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

Most of the time when João visited Esperanza's, he was more than happy to just watch her paint. In fact, that had been a specific request of his the last few times he'd been round. On the cold, rainy days when it was simply too miserable to go anywhere, they'd sit on Esperanza's living room floor, listening to the patter or raindrops on the window as her paintbrush glided masterfully across the canvas. There was something so peaceful about it; so intimate. Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence in those moments. Just being in each others' presence — close enough to hold — was more than enough.

five days until i leave school 🤭🤭

[afpwestcoast]

Union Transfer, Philadelphia, 6/7/24

At the top of the show Amanda announced that she was having a very bad day and then proceeded to take out her frustrations during the performance, which was tinged throughout with angry undertones. The result was a show that was very high energy, but with some imperfections and tattered edges. As you’ll recall from my deriding the Portland show last December as “too perfect,” this is my preferred type of Dresden Dolls show. Like a high-wire artist who seems about to plummet to their death at any moment, but never does. Chef’s kiss!

Annotated Set List:

Good Day (Brian on guitar to start)

Gravity

Missed Me

Sex Changes

Backstabber

My Alcoholic Friends

During the lull between songs a woman in the audience yelled out “Hi!”

Amanda replied, “I’m too sad to talk … Let’s play the most ridiculous song we’ve ever learned, shall we?”

At this point an entire sketch ensued with Brian pretending to type on a laptop, then text on a phone, all the while being chastised by Amanda (been there, buddy!). “No texting. No typing. No communicating with anyone but MEee!”

Welcome to the Internet (Bo Burnham cover)

Ultima Esperanza

Amanda: “You know, the longer I do this fucking job the more I wonder if I need this more than you do. I’m just lucky cuz I get paid.”

Brian: “You would do this if you DIDN’T get paid.”

Amanda: “I would still do this if I didn’t get paid.

Delilah (featuring Veronica Swift)

Amanda: “We’re working on a new record. We might only ever play it tonight. And start working on it again next month with a new batch of songs. Cuz we’ve now done that twice.”

Brian: “YEP!”

Amanda: “I’m not joking.”

Mister God

Veronica Swift appeared next to me and said, “I never get to see the show from here.” She hung out and danced with us for a bit.

Houdini

While talking about getting stuck in New Zealand during COVID Amanda mentioned Philadelphia-based photographer Kyle Cassidy, who was the principal photographer for the Who Killed Amanda Palmer book, and was in attendance. She said that Kyle had created a book of photos of front-line nurses during COVID. “It’s like one of the most stunning and heartbreaking things I’ve ever seen, and no one wants to publish it. Because no one wants to see pictures of COVID right now; everyone’s still fucked as far as I’m concerned.”

Whakenewha

Another Christmas

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) Amanda headed up to the balcony and Brian came out front with his guitar, as is tradition.

Mandy Goes to Med School (Brian on guitar to star) They were very playful with this one tonight, which was fun. “Sometimes I feel like songs can be kind of curse. Sometimes art can be kind of a curse. Like having a gift - like being a really gifted musician - you kinda can’t not do it, or you feel like you’re wasting your time. … This is the song that I’m proudest of. I think this is the song that scares the shit out of me the most. Which probably means it’s good.”

The Runner In the final verse she replaced “a lover,” with “the lover,” indicating that it was the same person from the first verse (which is true). This subtle change made the song even more powerful.

The Nail (Amanda on synth)

Mrs. O - ABORT! They had not made it through the intro when Amanda stopped and said the tempo was too fast. Brian asked if she wanted to start over from the beginning, but Amanda said they should take a request. It had recently been announced that The University of the Arts, a Philadelphia institution, was closing down. There were several people in the audience who were enrolled and were basically left holding the bag. So Amanda asked for a request from Ginger, one of the students impacted, and the result was …

Bad Habit The band hadn’t played this one in months, but Amanda adopted a “Fuck it” attitude and powered through with no regard to flubs and forgotten lyrics. This is my favorite Dresden Dolls mode!

Coin-Operated Boy After the line “I can even fuck him in the ass” Amanda yelled out, “Happy Pride!”

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

——

Girl Anachronism Things started innocently enough with a tinkling piano version of ‘Call to the Post,’ the traditional bugle call used before a horse race, but soon enough the traditional count of “One! Two! ONE TWO FUCK YOU!!” was bellowed and we were truly off to the races.

Afterwards someone in the crowd asked if Amanda’s night was going better now and the answer was a resounding YES!

Photo Gallery:

Amanda Palmer

Brian Viglione. I like how the lower right image captures Brian’s power and kinetic energy.

Veronica Swift on Delilah.

Another Christmas

Amsterdam

Best drummer in the world!

The Dresden Dolls, ladies and gentlemen!