#this feels very stream of conscious-y

[dinosaurvalley]

so im leaning towards ogjoseph having lived in fort pinta as a kid, then moved away for college and come back as an adult. he traded his pickup truck for a failed thoroughbred steeplechaser and became a ranger for a good few years. he hated the snow (just like neo alien joseph) and was annoyed that he got sent to the dinosaur valley outpost where hed eventually get alien possessed and made to kill everyone there. his thoroughbred spooked and ran off when he first encountered the alien but was recaptured by the team sent out to find the rangers who went missing

[storiesforallfandoms]

the bad room ~ homelander;the boys

word count: 2654

request?: no

description: in which a ghost from his past returns when he needs her the most

pairing: homelander x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, lil bit of angsty angst, mentions of death and violence, mentions of threatened suicide, mentions of what homelander and reader went through in "the bad room", the boys typical stuff, spoilers for 4x04, reader was also raised in "the bad room" but is not homelander's sister we'll say she created using another supe's dna

masterlist (one, two, three)

"John?"

The name that just moments ago made him so angry he saw the brightest of reds, brought him to a halt. It wasn't the name, but rather the voice. When he turned and saw her there, he was almost certain it was a hallucination.

"(Y/N)?"

He hadn't seen her in years. Since she somehow escaped The Bad Room before he was set free of it. Before he became Homelander. But it felt like she hadn't changed at all. Not her eyes, watching him with care and concern. Not her face, just as beautiful as he remembered. Not the fuzzy feeling in his stomach just being in her presence.

He was tempted to take her in his arms and never let her go, but then he remembered the blood soaked super suit and the thick liquid still dripping from his face and hair; the blood of the people who tortured them both.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

A wry smile twisted on Homelander's face. "Visiting home."

Her eyes flickered to the building behind them. "Did you leave anyone alive?"

"Barbara."

(Y/N)'s face darkened. "Should've killed her first, very slowly and painfully."

Homelander chuckled, humorlessly. "That's quite the thing to say about your mother."

"That woman was never a mother to me."

"She raised you."

"If that's all it takes, then Vogelbaum was your dad, right?"

Homelander scowled at her. "Point taken."

(Y/N) looked him up and down. He suddenly felt very self conscious and small, even though he stood a few inches over her. They were emotions he thought he wouldn't feel anymore; human emotions. He was supposed to have left those behind in The Bad Room. That was the whole reason he had come back to this nightmare.

But he realized he wasn't feeling this way in a negative way. Well, he definitely felt ashamed that (Y/N) had to see him like this. But he realized he felt small because he was remembering every moment he and (Y/N) had in The Bad Room. She was the only good thing about that place. They kept each other going; they kept each other sane. When she suddenly disappeared, he thought the worse. He wanted to escape himself, to burn the whole place down, to burn himself with it. But he was still young, not yet The Homelander.

He later found out she was alive and had just managed to escape. He would've been angry that she didn't take him if he wasn't so heartbroken by it.

"I live nearby," (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. "You can come over and get cleaned up."

It took him a moment, but he finally registered what she had said. "Yeah. Okay. Lead the way."

(Y/N) seemed confused. "Um...I drove here."

Now it was Homelander's turn to look confused. When he realized she was being serious, he said, "Oh...okay. Well...you drive and I'll follow your car."

"You think it's a good idea to risk people seeing Homelander flying around covered in blood?"

He knew she wasn't wrong, but he hadn't driven in a car since...well, maybe ever.

"I'll clean the seats later, and it'll be less risk for your image," she said. "John...please?"

She wanted him to come over. She wanted to spend time with him. In her space. How could he say no?

That's how Homelander found himself stood under a stream of hot water in an unfamiliar bathroom. The blood ran from his face and hair, staining the water red as it ran down the drain. He found himself looking at the products she had there - her body washes and shampoo. He tried not to think too much about the fact that there were no men's products there. Although, he would've appreciated some men's body wash at the very least. He wasn't sure if he could handle using her body wash and smelling so much like her.

Eventually the water went from red to clear, so he shut it off. He wrapped one of the towels (Y/N) had left for him around his waist. He had left his suit on the floor, but now it was gone and any blood that had dripped onto the floor was cleaned. Homelander found himself blushing at the thought of (Y/N) coming into the bathroom while he was showering without him knowing, but then the blood moved from his face to a lower area.

He walked out of the bathroom and into (Y/N)'s living room. She was sat on her couch with a glass of wine in hand. He could smell bleach trying to be masked by the smell of hand lotion, which told him that she had cleaned her car while he was in the shower.

"Does that stuff get you drunk?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Of course not," she responded. "I drink it for the taste at this point."

He noticed her looking him up and down again, and he suddenly became very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing any clothes.

"My suit..." he started.

"The cape is in my washer, but I wasn't sure how to wash the rest of it. Especially with those shoulder pads you have."

"That's okay. I can get someone back at the tower to dry clean it for me. They won't ask any questions."

(Y/N) winced and took a sip of her wine.

"I have some clothes you can borrow," she said, placing her glass down and standing from the couch.

"I don't think any of your clothes will fit me," Homelander said, a smile tugging at his lips.

She gave him a look, but he could see she was smiling as well. "They're men's clothes."

His smile suddenly fell. "Oh."

"They're my brother's."

He should've been happy for that clarification, but it only made his brow crease more. "Brother?"

"Foster brother, but I see him as an actual brother," she explained. "He stays over whenever he's in New York so he's left some clothes here. They should fit you."

He dressed in the clothes that (Y/N) gave him, but he was filled with more questions. She had a foster brother, did that mean she had a whole foster family? It would make sense, she was still a minor when she had escaped. He guessed she couldn't just live on her own under the age of 18.

But couldn't she? She had powers. She was raised to be a Supe just as powerful as himself. She could've taken care of herself, gotten whatever she wanted.

But maybe what she wanted was a real family.

But they weren't her family. They were just posing as one.

He was still turning these thoughts over in his head as she entered her living room again. She was back on the couch with a second glass of wine. He didn't drink alcohol. He was told he couldn't before. He had an image to uphold. But who cared about that image now? He literally killed a man and got away with it.

He sat next to her. She took a sip of her own wine before looking at him. "You have questions."

That was an understatement.

But she was opening the floor for him to ask everything on his mind, and he had a lot of things he wanted to know.

The first thing out of his mouth was, "Why were you there tonight?"

She seemed almost amused by this being his first question. "Barbara called me. She said there was a breach."

"What are you, their bodyguard?"

"That's what she thinks. Or...thought, I guess."

"I didn't kill her. I left her with the bodies of the people who tortured us."

(Y/N) looked at him, almost in disbelief, before a laugh slipped from her lips. "Jesus, that's worse than death. That's what she deserves."

"Why does she still have your number? You escaped, why would you want any connections to her or-or that place?"

She sighed. "It's...complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it for me."

When (Y/N) looked at him, there was no fear in her eyes. Not like most people who get this close to him, who know what he's done and have to deal with him after the fact. Instead, he saw sadness. And with it, any ounce of anger that was growing in him evaporated.

"I didn't escape, I made a deal with Barbara and Vogulbaum. I told them either they let me go and stop trying to train me and make me into their next Supe princess, or the second they let me leave the facility and put me on camera I would reveal everything those people did to us. And then...and then I'd kill myself on live television so the world knew what Vought did to us."

Homelander watched her as she took a sip of her wine. Well, a gulp more like it. She finished the contents of her glass and reached for the bottle to get herself more. He reached for his own glass and swallowed it all in two gulps. He winced at the taste and suddenly was glad he never drank before.

(Y/N) started to refill his glass when he asked, "Why didn't you take me?"

She paused. He could hear her heart rate picking up, and he could see the tears welling in her eyes.

"They wouldn't - " she started, but choked on her tears. She cleared her throat and tried again. "They wouldn't let me. I tried to negotiate it with Barbara, but she said no, and she said even if she agreed Vogelbaum never would. She said the deal was only me, and if I didn't take it then...then that was it. I had to stay, continue all the training and...experiments. Neither one of us would ever get out if I agreed to that, so...I took their deal. They rushed me out in the middle of the night so that you wouldn't know, blindfolded me so that I wouldn't know where the facility was, and then dropped me in the middle of nowhere to fend for myself. I was hitchhiking for hours when this family drove past and found me."

"What did you tell them?" Homelander asked.

"I lied and said I had no idea what happened to me. I said bad people took me and I couldn't remember who they were or where I came from. Only that I remembered my first name, the only name that Barbara gave me. They looked into missing persons and couldn't find me anywhere here or in any other state. So - "

"They took you in," he finished. "They fostered you."

(Y/N) nodded. "They wanted to adopt me officially, but that's a whole process. They became like my family anyways. Like I said, I'm still in contact with them."

"Do they know you have powers?"

She shook her head. "I haven't used my powers since I got out of there. Not on purpose, anyways. There's always the odd slip up, but that's bound to happen."

Everything she said just resulted in more questions in his head. He wanted to ask her why she never disclosed to her "family" that she had powers, but he figured the answer to that was pretty simple: she wanted to be normal.

But she's not normal. She's never been normal. She was made to be a God, like me.

Instead of saying that, he said, "You never...called. Or came by the tower or...anything. You never tried to contact me."

"I did once, remember? When you asked me to be in The Seven."

Oh, he remembered. It was just after Lamplighter had announced his intention to leave, before they put out a nation wide search for a new member that resulted in Starlight joining the team. He asked Stillwell to wait on putting out word on a search because he had someone he wanted to ask first. Reluctantly, he turned to Vogelbaum, because he knew they must've had an idea of where (Y/N) ended up. Even when he thought she had just escaped, he knew they never would've let her truly be free of them. He asked Vogelbaum to send her a message: "Please come join The Seven. It would mean the world to me if you did."

Almost immediately, Vogelbaum called the tower to let Homelander know she had responded. "She said I'm sorry, but I can't."

He was locked in his room for days after that.

Now, he scoffed at her bringing up that memory. "That's not trying to contact me. That's responded to me trying to contact you, and having to go through Vogelbaum of all people to do it. You basically fell off the face of the Earth to me, but I was readily available to you if you ever gave enough of a fuck to reach out."

"You think I didn't care?!" (Y/N) snapped, standing from the couch. "You think I wasn't thinking of you every second after I got out of that hell hole?! That I wasn't trying for years to figure out where the hell they had you hidden so I could come save you, too? I tried everything John! I looked everywhere that I could, but I was too late. They were already parading you around on TV as the next Soldier Boy! The second they announced you'd be the leader of The Seven, I knew I was too late. They had already corrupted you too much, you were already another Supe pawn in Vought's attempts at global domination. I couldn't handle that. I couldn't try to pry you away from that when I knew you would never leave the spotlight. How could you? You're the world's greatest superhero, you had everyone at your feet. And I was just the girl who ran away from that life and stopped using her powers. How could you ever choose me over that?"

"I would've chosen you every time!" Homelander snapped back, getting to his feet as well to stand over her. "That's why I asked you to join The Seven!"

"But that's not what I wanted, John! I didn't want to be a hero. If I took you up on your offer, I would be letting Barbara and Vogelbaum and all of those other fuckers win. I just wanted to be normal! I wanted me and you to be normal!"

"But we're not fucking normal!"

Tears were running down her face as she backed away from him. He realized then that he was crying, too. So much built up emotion between the two of them was finally coming out. They both needed it, but goddamn, Homelander felt his heart breaking all over again.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Suddenly, (Y/N) was throwing herself at him. Her arms were around his neck, holding onto him for dear life, and her lips were on his. He was surprised at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around her to hold her to him. He could taste the salt of their tears mixed with the wine they had been drinking. It was messy and far from the perfect kiss, but neither of them cared. It was the cultivation of years of emotions between them.

(Y/N) pulled away first. She rested her forehead against his, looking into his bright blue eyes. "I can't be your perfect Supe counterpart. I can't be a Supe, John, you have to understand that."

"I do," he said. "Whatever you need, I won't push you. I just want you back."

"You can have me," she said, her voice a whisper but he could still hear her plain as day. "You always had me."

He leaned in to kiss her again, picking her up in his arms as he did so. He never wanted to let her go again, so he wouldn't.

[silhouetteonpaper]

Hopeless

Summary: After an injury leaves you benched for nearly six months, you’re left questioning what your future will hold—including if it involves the person who’s stayed at your side through it all. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,178 Warnings: Mention of injuries, LOTS of angst, ends with fluff (kinda?) A/N: in honor of autumn beginning i wanted to make this very fall-y. unfortunately (and fortunately) that means the angst is reaaaal. enjoy! ;)

The leaves outside flourished in all different shades of red and orange, the wind full of that certain chill blowing them off their branches one by one. You sat cozied up on the couch inside the compound, taking in the changing of the seasons outside the window. In the silence, your mind was easily able to slip into the unraveling thoughts plaguing what was otherwise a nice day.

You were supposed to go on a mission, your first one back after recovering from an injury. To you, it wasn’t just an injury. It was a roadblock that stood between you and your entire livelihood, forcing you to spend nearly six months away from the thing you loved most.

Although, there was one thing you loved more than work; Natasha.

She was the reason you were able to survive those six months of isolation and heartbreak. She was the one who stood at your side and forced you to persist with recovery—there was no way Nat would let you sit around and do nothing.

But when you received a clean bill of health and your first assignment back out on the field, something in you just couldn’t do it. Maybe it was the progress you’d lost overtime, now feeling sore after each training session instead of accomplished. Or, maybe it was the fear of no longer being a true Avenger. What if you weren’t able to live up to the title anymore?

Natasha tried to push you past your comfort zone, challenging you to at least put on your suit and sit on the jet for a minute. But as the doors swung shut, you panicked—running back out into the compound halls with tears streaming down your face. The entire team was understanding, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

After your dramatic exit, you couldn’t help but sulk. Luckily, Natasha hung back to stay right at your side where she’s always been. At first you were mad she’d skip a mission just to coddle you, but deep down you were grateful. If there was one thing you hated most, it was being alone.

Seated in the comfort of the compound with the lingering turmoil from your episode, you tried to swallow the disappointment swelling inside your chest. The mission was supposed to be your big return, the broken Avenger’s shot at a recovered lifestyle. But you couldn’t live up to those hopes.

“I know that look.” Natasha’s voice made your head turn. She nursed a steaming mug of tea, eager to hand it over to you. You smiled, trying to cover your previous expression while accepting the mug. You didn’t respond, and instead let her get comfortable at your side on the couch. She placed a hand on your leg, looking out the window to watch the same tree that caught your attention.

Various shades of orange, yellow, and red doused each leaf with bright color. But as the wind picked up its speed, each vibrant canvas was left twirling to the ground. Something once beautiful, turned bare—uninspiring, even. “You’re still thinking about it.” Nat stated, peeling her eyes from the tree to look at you.

You couldn’t stop looking at its bare branches, though. It reminded you of your reality; a once capable and confident Avenger, caught up in the wind of life’s tribulations, now left with nothing. There was nothing colorful left.

“How can I not?” You voiced lowly. Nat didn’t answer right away, but you heard her taking a deep breath. A part of you felt bad, making her run over the same self-conscious thoughts over and over. Surely the entire team had to be getting tired of it, but Natasha still stood at your side regardless.

“It’ll take time to get back to where you were before,” Natasha moved her thumb up and down in a comforting motion, yet somehow her statement felt far from comforting. “We can train everyday, if that’s what you want. You don’t have to go on missions, I’ll stay back here with you.”

You closed your eyes, wishing the darkness wouldn’t disappear when you opened them. But it did, and you were stuck in the silence left by Natasha’s vow. “I don’t want to hold you back,” You relayed, still refusing to meet her gaze. “All these months, you’ve missed out on so many opportunities because of me. Just because I can’t do them doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

Natasha sighed sadly, looking back out of the window. It was your turn to take a deep breath, leaving you to look down at the mug; it was left cold, untouched. You discarded it on the nearby coffee table, finally turning to look at Nat beside you.

“I don’t think this is sustainable.” The words fell out of you, your heart had begun to race. Maybe it was out of fear for the future, but it was the truth.

Nat’s expression didn’t fall like you expected it to. “Staying here forever isn’t sustainable, but you’ll gain back the confidence and-“

“No,” you cut. She wasn’t understanding, likely because it was so sudden. You were insinuating that you and Nat together wasn’t a good idea. Not because you didn’t love her—you truly wanted to spend your life with her. It was because you couldn’t bear the thought of her missing out on her passion for even one more day. “I think we need to break up.”

Natasha went silent. Her eyes fell to the floor, her mind trying to process it all. Your eyes went wide waiting as she tried to form a coherent thought.

“No.” She asserted, leaving you with a furrowed expression. “I’m not letting you ruin us just because your life feels pointless.” Her harsh words had hit you hard, making your eyes water as you couldn’t seem to utter anything else. She grabbed both of your hands in hers, holding them tighter than ever.

“I’m not leaving you, not like this. I’ve never let you struggle on your own, and I don’t plan on starting now. Okay? I’m here, I’ll always be here.” She spoke with confidence, yet such a soft, warm tone you couldn’t help but cry. Tears flowing down your cheeks as you nod, falling into her embrace. She held you, a hand on the back of your head as you let the cascade of hopelessness finally exit your body.

You were wrong. After the tree’s beautiful leaves fell to the ground, forcing naked branches to go without any color, all hope wasn’t lost. In the Spring, new blossoms would form—flourishing colors would bestow each bud with new life. And you didn’t realize that the same applied to you.

Even when you were left without your purpose, stripped of the one thing you felt kept your life full of hope and color, something else stepped up in it’s place. Natasha Romanoff, there to fill your soul like blooming flowers on a branch. In the depths of your Fall, she was your Spring. And though the seasons change as years unfold, Natasha’s love for you wouldn’t.

[nanamis-bigtie]

nonsexual acts of intimacy ↬ reacting to the other one crying about something

❧ kusakabe atsuya x gn!reader | cw: pre-relationship, mutual pinning, story takes part in a bar setting but there's no mention of alcohol ❧

It's been more of instinct than a conscious decision, Kusakabe must admit as he's lingering behind the door, hand clenched on the handle. He sprinted to his feet right behind you and followed—but now, once he knows why you left the party so suddenly, his confidence popped like a balloon and faded.

Part of him is glad it's not sickness, part gnaws on his conscience and thrashes his mind from the inside. What is he doing here? He's never been good with crying people; he should turn back and call Nanami or Iori… Does he even have tissues on himself?

But the sight of your slumped back and curled shoulders, shaking in that characteristic rhythm of sobbing, clenches his heart with pain almost dragging a cry out of him too. It should be his chest you should hide your face in, not your hands, out there in the cold, leaning over the railing in front of a bar.

Maybe if he wasn't such a coward and finally pushed the matters further than courteous coffee and snack dates after work—

Kusakabe scratches the back of his head and gnaws on a profanity pressing to his tongue. If he did A, there needs to be B, or else he won't be able to call himself a man anymore.

"Okay there, Y/N?" He tries to sound casual, peeking through the open door, his coat thrown over his arm at ready. It's just a smoking break, not a rescue mission, and it doesn't matter that he quit smoking two years ago. 

You jolt in place, wipe your eyes with both hands at once, your lips trembling slightly as you try to pull a smile, "Yeah, all good. Just needed fresh air."

Horrible liars, both of you.

He leans over the railing, close to you but keeping the distance suit for a coworker. 

"You sure you don't need to call it a day?" Trying to push through awkward silence, he observes you with the very corner of his eye. Not obviously staring, just casually monitoring the situation, like a good colleague should, right? "I can call a taxi—"

"I'm okay." At least your voice doesn't tremble anymore. "It's been… A rough week. Just needed to cry some. Five more minutes and I'll be back." 

You don't have any coat on, Kusakabe realizes and almost slaps himself for not doing so sooner. He should have grabbed yours, not his, if he really wanted to be useful. What is he going to do now, stay there with you awkwardly and dressed or return to the warmth, leaving you alone midst cursed December?

Just a coworker wouldn't—

"Here." He wraps his coat around your shoulders, his heart fluttering when your gazes meet. For a mere few seconds, he can't feel the cold anymore and the noise of the bar behind your backs seems as sweet as a rippling stream.

"And you—" You accept the offering and clench your hands on its skirts. Even if he were about to freeze, he would have no heart to take it back from you, no matter what you say.

"I just need one thing." Praying his hands don't tremble as much as he thinks they do, Kusakabe reaches into one of the pockets, soon fishing a lollipop out of it. "Here, for you."

He taps your nose with it, a stupid, childish impulse—but for the first time tonight you smile for real, soon even laugh a little, "Thanks. Thanks a lot. For checking on me and…everything. Thanks, Atsuya."

A second earlier he thought the sound of your laughter was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard. Oh, how wrong he was.

Even your laughter couldn't compare to the way you say his name.

a/n: I'll die on the hill that Kusakabe's iconic lollipop is a remain of smoking addiction. big thank you to my server peeps for support with my first time at trying writing him & to @clumsyraccoon and @lemonszesty whose Kusakabe writing served as inspo to reach for his drabble out of order! EDIT: it's been brought to my attention that Kusakabe's antismoking lollipop is canon via databook. I'll leave the og note cause the coincidence is just funny lol

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey... would you write about kenan yildiz x reader where they are together and his fans have a nickname a vampire because she has a pale fair skin tone and white teeth with longer I guess fangs but natural real teeth.... this is a personal request because my friends call me a vampire beauty.....

VAMPIRE BEAUTY - KENAN YILDIZ

You get a new nickname

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The flash of cameras greeted us as we stepped onto the red carpet, the anticipation and excitement of the fashion show buzzing in the air.

Kenan held my hand tightly, his reassuring grip giving me the confidence I needed.

The photographers' shouts for our attention were deafening, but I focused on Kenan's comforting presence beside me.

"Look this way, Kenan! Over here, Y/N!" The calls from the photographers mixed together, creating a chaotic symphony. We paused, turning to face the cameras, smiles plastered on our faces.

I felt a bit self-conscious in my elegant black dress, my fair skin contrasting sharply against the dark fabric.

Kenan, however, looked effortlessly handsome in his tailored suit, his confidence radiating as we posed for the cameras.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally made our way inside and found our seats. The lights dimmed, and the show began, a mesmerizing display of fashion and creativity.

I leaned in closer to Kenan, whispering excitedly about each outfit that caught my eye. His warm laughter and attentive responses made the evening even more special.

As we left the venue, we were once again greeted by a barrage of flashes and shouted questions.

Kenan kept a protective arm around me, guiding me through the crowd and into the waiting car. The drive home was filled with laughter and shared memories of the night's highlights.

The next morning, I woke up to the soft sunlight streaming through the curtains. Kenan was already awake, scrolling through his phone.

I stretched and snuggled closer to him, enjoying the peaceful moment.

"Good morning," I murmured, my voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning, love," he replied, kissing the top of my head. "You should see this." He handed me his phone, a mischievous grin on his face.

I took the phone and scanned the headlines. My eyes widened as I saw the words "Vampire Beauty" splashed across several articles.

Images of us from the fashion show accompanied the headlines, highlighting my pale skin and the bright white smile I had given the cameras.

"Vampire Beauty?" I asked, incredulous but amused. "Where did they come up with that?"

Kenan chuckled, pulling me closer. "I think it's because of your fair skin and your perfect smile. They probably think your teeth look a bit longer than usual."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Well, I guess that's a new one. I've never been called a vampire before."

Kenan's expression softened, and he tilted my chin up to look at him. "I think it's kind of sexy," he said, his voice low and teasing. "My very own vampire."

I blushed, feeling the warmth spread through me. "You're ridiculous," I said, trying to hide my smile.

"But you love me," he countered, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I do," I admitted, leaning in for a kiss. His lips met mine softly, and the world around us seemed to fade away.

[rixsjwb]

gojo x f!reader

summary: your a close friend of gojo that he recently introduced to his fans on stream, you have a thick French accent and can barely speak any good English but his fans love you, here's some interaction between you and gojo that's fans go crazy about.

note: just wrote did not reread sorry if it doesn't make sense make it make sense and enjoy✨️

𖣔 ──────────────────── 𖣔

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 1:

gojos fans were quick to fill his chat with comments people often heard or seen him play duolingo learning French he'd often get asked 'why are you learning French?' or 'who's the special girl?' but gojo brushed it off very casually

"who am I learning French for? oh! just a close friend of mine; you want to see her? one day guys.. one day!"

gojo has talked to you before about joining his stream? infact you supported him by watching some of his streams on your free time.

you adjust your rimless glasses to better see gojo as he's talking to you in broken English, so you can better understand him? but its still a little hard to understand eventually he gives up pulling a translator out and translating what he has to say

est-ce que tu veux joindre mon stream?

you nod you head showing you don't mind joining him stream, su-sure you stutter out trying to pronounce the word in a more english way than in a french accent.

he's pretty much jumping in his seat saying 'merci!" in a terrible englishified way you can't help but stiffle a laugh.

when you first joined his stream you couldn't really understand what the chat was saying, but you watches as it passed by so fast. gojo often replied to people's questions while you just sat beside him with a soft smile on your face

"she's pretty! I know she's such a cutie."

shokir:"I love her glasses!."

toji_fuhsji:"yoo gojo can pull??? since when?"

megu:"who'd this?"

gojosecondballsack: "nevermind gojo give me that sexy thing beside him😊✨️"

he reads every comment smiling as he's glad his fans are welcoming you with open arms, he then hears a familiar sound ringing from his computer as he xs out the stream app he sees that the groupchat he's in is blowing up and that yuji started the call📞.

"YOO GOJO WHOS THAT BUEATIFUL WOMAN BESIDE YOU??" yuji screams in his mic making it sound bassboosted.

gojo can hear suguru's light chuckles in the back as he watches more of his close friends join the call while still on stream.

"she's my bestie/roomie! what chu hoes laughin at?" he says questioning them.

sukuna who rarely shows up decided to answer the question

" weve known ya for awhile now why's this the first time I'm s'eenin her?"

"facts she's actually adorable tho" shoko pipes up

"hi y/n bonjour salute!! comment ça va?"

shoko says you're almost shocked that one of gojos friends seem to know french you pipe up to speak back to her your velvety, soft voice responding back.

"ça va bien, tu peux parlé le française?"

you say, but your getting your answer as she doesn't seem to respond back "you speak french?"

you say your accent evident as you attempt to come out your comfort zone speaking english

"ahh she can speak? she sounds great to have just started learning it."

shoko says gojo pulls out the translator translating what shoko said so you could understand what she said, you've always let gojo know how self conscious you were of your accent but hearing that complement made you feel bashful you shake your hands one in front of the other waving them back and forth to show your denying that your English isn't very great.

gojo can't help but feel awe about how bashful you get when someone complements you.

☾︎ ──────────────────── ☽︎

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 2 :

while gojo was gaming playing a scary game his fans recommend with suguru and sukuna. despite hie headphones being on and occasionally looking back at the cam to see if it's recording his face he notices movement of his slightly open door.

he watches as the door eventually gets wider showing you who seemingly just woke up from a nap, from your neck and up is cut of from the cam as you come closer to see what game he's playing.

you eventually lean over more to see more of the game he watches as the chat seems to move at nano seconds he's thinking it's moving fast because a monsters there or obviously because you showed up after dipping and not showing up on his streams for a good 2 weeks or so.

he then realizes it's because of how low cut your shirt is and how your pretty muching creating a invisible chair to sit on to get a better view of the computer he notices your cleavage is pretty much on full display and yoi don't seem to notice he feels almost bad that his fans were probably gonna say inappropriate stuff about you he's quick to speak up tho.

"yo yo hold on hold on.."

gojo tells suguru and megumi there characters in the game pausing to look back at him.

gojo was quick to find a spare chair in his room and even got you a shirt to pit over your chest to avoid the possible sexulization coming.

"put this shirt on.." gojo mutters to busy on seeing if he can pull your shirt more up to cover the cleavage but desided to just help your put on his shirt he gently pushes you down to sit on the spare chair he had, pulling the collar of the shirt over your head that popped out. and fixing it taking a good look at you to see if the white shirt he'd Givin you was see thought.

once confirmed he resumed playing.

" okay we back gang, sukuna move your fantasy character he's blocking my way!"

gojo says, minutes later sending a glance to you

making sure your fine.

later it was pretty much trending that he was looking out for you.

sugurughetto: yo jojo siwa your trending on tiwtter.

jojosiwa: I know I'm just that famous youk?😍

suukunatuna: shut your bitch ass up.

shokoloco🥳: I'm surprised usually you wouldn't give a shit bout girls but looks like this ones serious.

jojosiwa: it's not serious! we're just close guys YOU MAD YOU AINT TRENDING HOE.

jojosiwa:guys let's brainstorm streaming ideas😊

tojiskidmarks: I'm tryna see s'this bueaty in person.

chosokamotod4agon: play gta 6

to say he was praised for looking out for you.

────────────────────

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 3:

you had a tattoo on your lower back and just right under your boob there small tattoos not to big not the small your lower back one doesn't tend to show but with the low rise flared out leggings you wore where low enough that if you bend over far enough it'd show a bit.

gojo was making a stream about opening gifts from fans and there was alot to open, sine yoi were curious about one small box you desided to open it but it was quite father away from you.

"gojo you pass, can you pass box?" you stretch out trying to make a accurate point to which box you specifically want you learn in further have to lean off your chair to reach, he stands up to pick up the box his lanky long legs taking just one big step to reach it as he turns back around to sit on the chair he notices writing in your back.

"woah what's that's on your back?" he motions. placing his hand on the exact area we saw the tattoo, you show the tattoo on your lower back causing gojo to be shocked as he never thought you'd have a tattoo.

"bro! that's fuckin crazy, yall look at the tattoo!" he says in shock grabing his camera and showing the tattoo much closer " do you have anymore?" he points at your back and trys to make a motion signifying 'more?' because you're intelligent you understood immediately, lifting your shirt to show your other tattoo.

"WOAHH THERE woah don't go flashing the fans now" he cackled knowing dam well you wouldn't even understand what he said.

you lift your shirt up careful to nor flash your boobs you watch as satoru zooms in to the tattoo, touching the tattoo like a curious child touches glass when looking at a toy that interest them. you pull down your shirt after feeling a arm snake around your waist.

"she's mine buddies you ain't stand in a chance." he says arrogantly , he eventually puts the camera back where it was, you open the small box seeing a bueatiful swan necklace with a note inside your soft gasp caught sayorus attention causing him to look over at you.

when he sees the necklace he's also surprised he takes the small note in it reading it aloud.

"this is for y/n! hope she enjoys and I've been a fan for so long gojo! you make my day!" the fan wrote.

gojo digs in his brain to find the right words in french to tell you the necklace is yours.

"pour toi!"

gojo says he can tell your very touched by the gift. as you mutter a thank you with a bright smile.

thank you for the support and critique on my french it will definitely benefit me in the future thank you🙏🙏🙏

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Sad/comfort question

Jason, Helen and Sully if they hurt Y/N by accident during an night terror but Y/N, far from being scared, comforts them and tells them that everything will be fine and hugs them

Jason:

How could you be so kind? How could you look upon him with such grace and kindness when he did the exact thing he promised he'd never do? Jason has always envisioned himself as your protector, and so for him to inflict any type of wound on you has him incredibly shaken up. The second your arms are around him he's tempted to push and shove you away to keep you safe from him, but the warmth of your embrace and the tightness of your grip has him sinking into you as he sobs and wails out all sorts of apologies for laying his hands on you when he never meant to. He clutches onto you, crying like he never has before, and it's at this moment that Jason finally decides he needs to make a change for himself. He'd always told himself he could cope with his trauma by himself, but the fact that he's now brought pain to you has him realizing that he's let himself far too low. As Jason calms down and requests to tend to your wounds, he officially steels himself with the knowledge that he's going to do whatever it takes to fix himself, for your sake. As he tenderly wraps bandages around your injury, he promises himself he'll finally talk to Slender about those therapy sessions, if only to keep you safer in the future in his company.

Helen:

Helen doesn't even realize what he's done. When he's experiencing his night terrors he's barely mentally conscious, moving and acting purely on subconscious instinct, not thinking about anything or even trying to figure out where he is and what's happening. It takes your full weight on top of him and your arms gripping him as tight as they can to hold him still and get him to stop, and the two of you lay like that for what could be minutes or hours before Helen starts to come back to his senses. He recognizes your arms comfortingly around him, and your soothing words in his ear, and he feels himself relaxing sluggishly, at least, until the smell of blood in the air registers in his brain and he's shooting up and fear and asking you what happened. He's manic, tears welling in his eyes fearing the worst, and you tell him that it's okay, you'll be alright, it's just a scratch. The scratch is most likely obtained from one of his weapons in his efforts to protect himself from the ghosts haunting him. He breaks down again, and you soothe him all the same, promising him you'll be alright and so will he, and even though he doesn't believe you, your embrace is the most comforting thing he's ever experienced, and he can't help but sink into it again and wonder what he did to deserve you, and he promises to himself he'll do anything he can to avoid repeating this in the future.

Sully:

He can't breathe. His head is pounding, his ears feel clogged, and his vision is starting to become blurry as he continues to hyperventilate in front of you. He had been having another episode, and in your efforts to comfort him, he'd accidentally landed a very firm and painful blow to your head in an attempt to keep you away from him, and upon registering the thin trail of blood leaking down your face, he started to shut down, all but collapsing to the ground at the realization of what he's done. Your words and your embrace seem to be incapable of soothing him, and it's only after you retrieve Slender and get Sully actual help that he starts to refocus. When he can see again and process his surroundings, he realizes you're in the medical lab, and there's a bandage delicately wrapped around your forehead. He knows this because he can feel it against your skin as you embrace him, telling him it's okay, and that he's safe, he'll be alright. Tears stream down his face again as he returns your embrace, clutching onto you as though his life depends upon it. He doesn't know how, but he's going to make this up to you, he's going to show you he can love you and protect you, and that he's not the monster everyone thinks him to be. For now, though, he just wants to hold you.

[callsign-dexter]

First Huge Fight Pt 2

Summary: Jake and Y/N have their first big fight. Hurtful things are said and regretted. Can they make up before it is too late? Or will the Seresin-Bradshaw household be turned upside down?

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin, Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, bruising, blood, car crash, inaccurate medical talk, swearing, hospitals

Masterlist

Our Little Girl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

She comes to when she hears someone opening the door but doesn't pay attention to it. Her eyes are barely open. The storm had stopped but everything was still wet.

"Hey, Sweetie. I'm Rachel. Can you tell me your name?" Y/N heard and tried to turn her head "No honey don't turn your head." Rachel said while keeping her neck straight.

"Y/N." She replied though her words were slurring and another stream of tears started falling. "Want my dads." She said as her eyes started to feel heavy.

"No, don't close your eyes." Rachel said but the girl didn't answer. She got her phone out and started dialing 9-1-1.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

"Hi, yes my name is Dr. Rachel Hayes, head doctor at Miramar Navy Hospital. I'm at the scene of a head-on accident and need two ambulances."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not hurt. I'm with a young lady about 17 years old, who has a large gash on her head and slurring her words and trying to close her eyes and was unconscious when I came to check on her."

"Is she breathing?"

"Yes she is breathing but it's very shallow and her heart rate is very low."

"You mentioned another car. Is the other drive ok?"

"The other driver seems to be ok but is drunk and unconscious."

"Help is on the way."

"Thank you."

"Hey there sweetie. Help is on the way. Ok?" Rachel said but got no response but instead got a cough and blood spewing out onto what was left of the windshield and started to run down her chin as a response. Rachel knew that wasn't good. Finally, she heard sirens. One ambulance pulled up to where Y/N was. They came over and assessed the scene and Rachel told them everything as one of them took Rachel's place. Y/N jumped at feeling new hands on her. "Hey it's ok they're here to help you." Rachel soothed not wanting to let the girl out of her sight and that made Y/N relax. "Take her to Miramar Navy Hospital. I'm going to go ahead and meet you there." Rachel said already wanted to be her doctor and she had a feeling she knew this kid. "I'm going to meet you at the hospital ok?" She said touching Y/N but not getting a response.

"Hey Y/N I'm Kendall and this is Jackson and Lydia we're going to help you. We're going to move you now, ok? Jackson start an IV." Everything was a blur and sounded underwater so she really didn't pay attention until the pinch of the IV and that caused her heart rate to pick up but went back to being slow. Then she was moving. Why was she moving? She wants to scream out in pain but nothing comes out, only a small whimper. "It's ok. We got you." Then she felt something soft and everything started to fade out. "Lydia we're losing her start pushing fluids and a round of epi." Lydia did as she was told and Y/N slowly started to come back. They got her into the ambulance and Jackson took the driver's seat. Everything was underwater and she just went to her happy place.

They arrived at the hospital in just 5 minutes and Dr. Rachel Hayes was there greeting them in her Navy-issued scrubs "What information did you get on her?" She asked as they wheeled Y/N into one of the trauma rooms followed by two nurses.

"Her name is Y/N Carole Bradshaw-Seresin. She's 17 years old. Head trauma, a large gash on the forehead, and what seemed like some internal bleeding from the seatbelt and tumbling of the car. Started crashing on the way here and we pushed one epi before loading her up and then one on the way here into her and started to get her back. She's been unresponsive but conscious, O2 is low as well as her heart rate." Kendall said. That's how Rachel knew this girl, she is the daughter of Lt. Commander Jake Seresin and Lt. Commander Bradley Bradshaw, she delivered this girl. She just couldn't recognize her with how dark it was and the blood on her.

"Ok thank you. We got it from here." Rachel said after they transferred her. Her team got to work. "Shaw, I want you to tell the front desk to start calling her parents and if they don't answer, call Nick and Carole Bradshaw." Shaw just nodded and went to do as he was told. "Arlen I want you to call OR. We need to get her into surgery asap. We need to get this bleeding under control and fast." She ordered in a professional tone "Ok sweetie you're going to get a little bit sleepy but when you wake up your dads will be here." As she pushed the sedation into her. Y/N didn't respond, just closed her eyes and they rolled her into the OR once they got the all-clear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradley and Jake were sound asleep. Nothing could disturb them, not after what they had been through. They didn't even hear their phones ring from downstairs. They didn't take them up because Y/N was in the house sound asleep, right? and they were charging downstairs. The phone calls were left unnoticed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Goose's phone began to ring loudly pulling him out of his fitful sleep, he felt something was wrong. On the second ring, he answered it and kept his voice low.

"Hello?"

"Is this Admiral Nicholas Bradshaw?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Great! I'm Grace Avery, a receptionist at Miramar Navy Hospital. I'm calling because your granddaughter came into our care and we couldn't get ahold of her parents." This had Goose shooting straight up and causing his wife to abruptly wake up startled and looked at him and mouthed what was going on and he mouthed "Chick is in the hospital."

"Is she ok?"

"I can not discuss this over the phone. It's best if you come down here."

"My wife and I'll be right down." Ending the phone call. He was right something was wrong and from the sound it was very wrong.

Goose was quick to get up and started throwing clothes on and Carole was right behind him. Neither said a word worried for their granddaughter.

"Call Mav and Ice and tell them that Y/N is at the hospital and they need to go and get them. Apparently, they're not answering their phones." He says as they get into their car and start to drive. Carole just nods, not trusting her voice to answer her husband. She takes a few deep breaths and dials Maverick's number.

"Mav, it's Carole. I'm sorry for waking you but Y/N/N is in the hospital. They won't tell us why. The boys aren't answering their phones. Can you and Ice go check on them and get them?" She said with a shaky breath.

"Of course. Which hospital?" Any tiredness was gone from him and Ice, who had woken up from the ringing and made Maverick put it on speaker.

"Miramar Navy Hospital."

"We'll be right there." And they hung up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mav and Ice got ready quickly and rushed out to Ice's truck since he's remaining calm on the outside but not on the inside since Maverick is panicking. They quickly pull out of the driveway and start towards the Seresin-Bradshaw residence. As they were heading in that direction they came upon the accident and instantly recognized the truck and their hearts broke even further.

They reached the residence and Ice parked the truck and they both got out. As they were heading to the door, the scene of the accident was fresh in the mind. Maverick used his key and they walked into the house and flipped on the light in the kitchen where they saw two phones on the counter charging and missed call notifications, Ice and Maverick looked at each other.

"Bradley! Jake!" Maverick yelled but didn't get a response and repeated their names "Bradley! Jake!" As he walked down the hallway towards their room and was met with two tired men, one looked exhausted, and the other one looked like he was crying.

"Geez Mav it's" Bradley looked at his watch "5 AM. What are you doing here?" Bradley asked him and Maverick looked at him with exhausted and worried eyes, this didn't go unnoticed by Bradley. "What happened?" He knew there had to be a reason for the early wake-up call.

"Hospital just called Goose and said that Y/N is in the hospital. They wouldn't tell him what happened and they said you both weren't answering your phones." Maverick explained and both Bradley and Jake's faces drained of color. They thought she was in her room. "Ice and I are here to grab you both and head to the hospital." It was like everything was in slow motion and underwater their world just got turned upside down.

Maverick pushed them aside and walked into their room. And grabbed two hoodies that were thrown over the chair and put one on each of the boy's shoulders and pushed them out. They all walked into the kitchen in silence to meet Ice already by their door and with their phones in his hand.

"Listen, Y/N is a strong girl. She got that from both of her dads. Right now she needs both of them to be strong and be there for her. Goose got a call from the hospital but they wouldn't tell him anything. However, we did pass an accident coming here and it was her truck and it looked bad. Now we need to go to your little girl and be there for her." Ice said in a calm voice but demanding voice, one that he uses for work and in meetings, but he too was panicking. Maverick had walked to his boyfriend during the speech and both men nodded and they headed out to Ice's truck.

As they were driving they had to drive by the accident and Ice slowed down due to the scene still being processed and Jake and Bradley thought they were going to be sick. "Stop." Jake said and so Ice did and Jake got out and walked to the truck and just stood there looking at it.

"Sir, you can't be here." A police officer had told him.

"That's my truck." Jake said and the police officer nodded.

"Where would you like it towed?" He asked and Jake told him the address to their house they would deal with it later on. The police officer nodded just as Bradley walked up to him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Come on Jake. We need to get to our daughter." Bradley said in a barely whisper and Jake let himself be guided to the truck and he got in. The only thinking going through his mind is that he caused this to happen. He yelled at her and she snuck out of the house, got into her truck, and wrecked.

When they arrived at the hospital. At some point, Maverick had called Goose and told them that they were on their way because as soon as they got parked and walked to the front Goose was there waiting. Goose went over and bear-hugged his son who returned it and that's when the tears started for everyone, even Ice. Goose let go of Bradley and hugged Jake who also returned the hug and then let go.

"How is she?" Bradley asked his dad in a rough unsteady voice. Goose let out a sigh and that crushed everyone's heart. He motioned them to start walking towards the elevator they stepped on.

"I'm gonna be honest. She's not good. They just got her out of surgery about 10 minutes ago. But knowing her she got both of your stubbornness and she's proven that she's a fighter. Your mom is with her right now." The elevator door dinged and they got off her floor. Nobody talked, too in their thoughts. Goose, Maverick, and Ice were wondering why and how it happened. Bradley and Jake knew and Jake was blaming himself. They walked in silence.

As they were reaching her room nurses and doctors were rushing to her room and Carole was being gently guided out. She saw the men running towards her, as they reached her they could hear the commotion, doctors yelling and medical equipment being pushed around.

Carole practically fell into Goose. Bradley had to catch Jake before he fell. Ice was leaning back against the wall with his head resting back on it. Maverick was probably taking it the worst while facing the wall and had his hands on the wall, this was a familiar scene that always haunted him. As they heard.

"Clear." And the sound of a flatline.

[wolfofcelestia]

Welcome! Now that this blog has been fully converted into a Zayne loveblog, I've finally decided to make an actual introduction.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓵𝓸����𝓰𝓮𝓻

My name is Elara (she/her). I am an adult and will be posting adult content. Minors, blank blogs, art theives, and toxic people will be blocked

Most of what I write here will be about fictional boys voiced by Satou Takuya

Most of my analysis posts are usually very stream of conscious-y because I never stop thinking about this stupid ice man

Sylus will also appear on my blog. He's settled in as my second favourite so he will be around too

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓻

I write when my brain allows me to. Most of what you'll see here are short clips of dialogue, headcanons, scenarios, and scenes in the style of LADS's social media posts. These snippets tend to be comedy, fluff, smut, angst, and occasional dark content

Got a request? Feel free to drop an idea in my askbox. No guarantees it will get filled, though

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓨𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓳𝓸𝓼𝓱𝓲 💙❤️🩵

This blog is my self-indulgent yumejoshi (self-insert) safe space, with my F/Os being Shokudaikiri Mitsutada and Rei.

I am extremely sappy and sentimental. Also extremely thirsty. I am parched. Dehydrated. I just have a lot of feelings for these boys. If you have a problem with that, feel free to block or unfollow me. You don't need to be in my space.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮

Thanks for stopping by and reading this far! There's more information about my name and Rei under the cut below for the curious.

Feel free to have a look around and interact with me whenever you like! I’d love to hear what you think of my ideas.

All of my writing can be found in my blog directory.

Quick tags:

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Zayne, Dawnbreaker, Foreseer, Master

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Scenarios, Headcanons, Poems

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Vampire AU, LADS Soundtrack, Zayne Tier Lists

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Hunter's Diary, Glint Photos

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Zayne Favourites, Sylus Favourites

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓪

A rough translation of my Saniwa username: 天狼星

This is the star Sirius, which roughly translates to "heavenly wolf star" in Chinese/Japanese.

I wanted a daimyou-style title for my saniwa self-insert, so it turned into Wolf of Celestia.

Don't be fooled by the name, though. I'm actually just a smol wet puppy burdened with feelings for boys who don't exist.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼

“Elara” is the name of one of Jupiter's moons. In Greek mythology, she is a mortal princess with an unfortunately lame story. But I liked the sound of the name so I kept it.

The pronunciation on wikipedia is EL-ara. I also accept el-ARA.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓪𝔀𝓷

You may have noticed that I call him Rei in some posts and Zayne in other posts. Sometimes even in the same post, like this one. This is a very deliberate choice.

I first learned of his existence from Satou Takuya retweeting one of the promo videos for the game before it was released, so even before Day 1, I knew him as Rei. (And I was downbad for him without even knowing a thing about him.)

He is still Rei to me and always will be, but for ease of communication, I call him Zayne.

Long story short,

I call him Zayne when:

I'm referring to his character in general

I'm writing something meant for the rest of tumblr to reblog or engage with

I call him Rei when:

I'm referring to "My Rei", the Rei in my game, and the F/O of my yume ship.

─── Usually used in personal posts about my sappy feelings, not really meant to be engaged with

I'm referring to the character who is voiced by Satou Takuya and speaks Japanese.

─── Usually used to comment on SatoTaku's voice work specifically

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼

In my scenarios, I usually put dialogue and emphasized words in certain colours

MC is red because… put simply, that’s my colour

Zayne is always blue

Foreseer is always purple

Master is always green

But because tumblr is mostly in dark mode and I’m too lazy to add colours that aren’t on the default options, Dawnbreaker is usually red

Because if he were to choose a colour, it would always be hers

The only time Dawnbreaker isn’t in red is when MC is in the same scenario. In those cases, Dawnbreaker is the default text colour, relinquishing his colour to her

Because he would choose to be empty if it meant he could stay with her for just a little longer

That's all for now! I'll keep this updated if I need to add more links or information.

Final note: Yes my whole aesthetic is space and stars. Yes, my main is 10000% Rei LMAO I am so sorry Seiya

Dividers by saradika-graphics, cafekitsune

[slutsssphobia]

Hello may I request soft Dom mitsuri x sub reader where the reader is insecure about her body so mitsuri shows her that it's beautiful in a horny way kinda like praising her?

Aww I love this!

Warnings!: Sweet sex,little angst?,body worship

a/n!; Mitsuri would def comfort you about your body and reassure you your perfect <3

You were at home due to an injury from a lower moon mission, mitsuri had been really busy today and wasn't home. Out of the blue your mind went elsewhere and one second you were picturing mitsuri on display for you. The thought made you quiver. 'mitsuri is so perfect..' your thoughts made you doubt yourself

You wondered how you looked like standing next to her. You become very conscious about yourself. You still wonder how you got someone like mitsuri. She's perfect in every way.

You were too caught in your thoughts to notice the front door unlock. "Y/n dear I'm home!"

Mitsuri called out to you happily walking to your shared bedroom. There you sat with small tears in your eyes streaming down your cheeks. "Aw..love what's wrong please don't cry!" Mitsuri had tears already forming in her eyes just from seeing you like this. She held you tightly in her grasp on the verge of tears. "Please tell me dear what's wrong!" She cradled you in her chest as you sniffled. "I'm sorry I made you worry.."

You said while wiping your tears, mitsuri looked at you confused. "Mitsuri am I good enough for you?"

She almost shed another tear before she could say anything. "You're more than good enough baby!" She gave you kisses all over your face never stopping for a breath.

"I'll show you how perfect you are~"

Mitsuri spreads you out of the bed on display for her, she starts littering kisses from your neck down. She lifts your shirt from your head then travels her fingers along your chest. Mitsuri undoes your bra and latches her mouth on your sensitive nipple. She gives the same treatment to the other one and finally removes your pants that you've been longing for. "Ready dear?"

You nod and feel the cool breeze against your pussy, she licks a stripe from your stomach to your lips. She slowly slides her tongue between your folds never leaving a spot untouched. You let out a few light moans and pat mitsuri's head. After a few licks you end up releasing right in mitsuri's mouth.

Mitsuri sucked on your clit lightly before leaving your pussy with a pop!

"I love you, my perfect girl.."

Tyy for requesting love! Be safe 💕💕💗

[camlannpod]

hi I’m the person who asked about character creation advice in the listen along stream. My internet went funny so sorry I couldn’t specify on stream!

I meant characters in general! I really want to get into writing stories (books, podcasts, film, I haven’t really decided yet) but I’m struggling a bit with fleshing out my characters and I often feel like they’re all kind of the same person.

I really love the characters in Camlann so advice would be great!

Hi hello! Thank you so much for joining us for the stream, I'm sorry for your internet difficulties!!

Hm, this is an interesting and tricky question which I want to preface with a quick disclaimer:

Everyone writes differently. There's no one correct way to write, and whilst there are tool sthat you can use for writing - just like there are tools in visual art and music, learning which tools you want to use and how you want to use them is, I think, a big part of learning how to write well and in a way that's enjoyable for you.

This said! People often make jokes / comments about 'plotters vs pantsers' or 'architects vs gardeners'. A lot of writers fall into one of two categories - meticulously plotting detail before writing, or just kind of going with the flow. I personally am very much in the latter category, so I'm afraid I don't have a lot of specific tools or exercises I can give you.

This said, I'm going to do my best. Ursula K Le Guin is, in my opinion, one of the best writers of the 20th century, and she writes a lot of wonderful essays about the imagination and writing which I find really inspiring. I'm paraphrasing because I can't find the quote, but she once said something along the lines of: "If I can't close my eyes and have a conversation with a character, then I'm not ready to write their story yet."

That's a lot how I feel about writing characters. Some of it is conscious. I identify traits - flaws, strengths, quirks - in myself and others, and I give them to my characters. Dai is hyperactive and excitable because I'm hyperactive and excitable. Perry infodumps because I infodump. Morgan is stressed and protective because I am both of those things. But they also all have elements I don't have - Morgan is a lot more understated and pragmatic than I am. Dai is much more confident and reckless. Perry is significantly more organised and self-disciplined.

As a rule, I personally find it best to avoid ever trying to write 1 for 1 either yourself or a friend into a character. That way lies hurt feelings and honestly an inability to see them clearly, because it's very hard to see yourself objectively. Instead, I think of it like putting puzzle pieces together, or a patchwork quilt, or planting seeds. People often say good writers are good eavesdroppers. Phrases that people say on the tram stick with me. Strangers in shops. People dancing. Expressions and ways of speaking that filter through to characters I write.

Once I've identified a small handful of key pieces, I leave them to grow in my subconscious. This normally takes a few months. It's like...moulding a piece of wet clay for a few hours - ok, I don't want them to be X, I do need them to do Y - and once you've got roughly what you want in the right places, putting it in the kiln that is your mind and letting it cook. I just...think about my characters a lot - daydream about them, imagine them in different situations etc. Once I feel they've had enough time to settle, I start writing.

I honestly find one of the best ways to get to know a character is just writing them. For me that always feels like a conversation. And not just writing - editing and rewriting and rewriting - learning what they would or wouldn't say, thinking about how they'd react in different situations etc. There are...minimum 7 drafts of the Camlann scripts? I got to know the gang better just because I spent a lot of time with them.

Finally, for audio specifically, always always read your scripts aloud! If you can, rope in a friend or two. The way people speak out loud and the way they speak in our heads when we're reading is very different. Something that's incredibly moving in prose can feel awkward and stilted in audio. So read it out loud - start getting a sense of your character's vernacular. Do they say 'don't' or 'do not'? Do they swear? Do they use slang? Are they flirty, shy? I always find that my characters start coming to life when I can hear their voices. If I can hear them speaking to me, they're ready to be written.

This is all a little wibbly wobbly, and very personal to me, but I hope it at least helps you think about how you want to write. Good luck, and have fun!

[truly-morgan]

[Gym training, oblivious JC]

MingCheng | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 07-06-2021

[#mingcheng modern, gym]

I know a common hc for jc is him going to the gym and loving it, but hear me out: JC who doesn't like going to the gym. He doesn't mind training (after all, he trains often with the swimming team of his college), doesn't mind a run from time to time to let so stream out. But Gym? Nope.

But he is somewhat forced to go, with how insistent his mother can get about it “You must stay fit, or do you want to be like your father? Out of shape at 4x y/o?”. Not to help, swimming is /one/ of the things jc is better than wwx at and she wants it to stay like this, so she said he should train more for this reason.

So jc does get a subscription to a gym near his college (“It's owned by my family, I can get you a better price” said nhs with a large smile). And so jc goes to the gym, but really he cannot get to like it. Getting all sweaty around other people getting all sweaty isn't really his thing (and you will never catch him using any of the machines without washing his place first).

He's also too self-conscious about other people's opinions and he feels like everyone is looking at him and judging him if he does something wrong or if he doesn't do enough set or if he doesn't look as fit as others or if h-

jc has no problem training in the pool, once he's in the water he can easily forget about everyone and everything around him. He doesn't see others, doesn't hear them, doesn't see them look at him. He's also not very good at making a workout schedule that works correctly (but he also doesn't exactly take it 100% seriously so...).

Yzy got angry when she went with him once and saw how unorganised he was in his training (“How can you be so unorganised when you are the contrary for school and swimming?”). He even nearly got himself hurt (but he was distracted by her scolding).

So yzy makes sure jc has one of the best personal trainers the gym has, which is actually the eldest son of the owner, nie mingjue. Jc is a bit intimidated by nmj because the man looks a bit fierce and strong enough that he could snap him in half like a twig if he even fucks up something in his training. Jc couldn't be considered skinny or small & has his share of muscle, but compared to nmj he looks small.

He is a bit surprised by how patient nmj actually is despite his looks, explaining the training sheet & schedule and why the exercise he suggests could help his swimming. He shows him own the use each workout machine he would need to use since he never had anyone explain it to him (jc also realise he had been using some of them wrong, he's lucky to not have hurt himself!).

Slowly jc gets more comfortable around nmj and also a bit more comfortable at the gym (nmj did suggest coming early or late since there are fewer people at these hours). He likes how the man will make sure he does the exercise right before letting him alone, how he praises him when he attains all his objectives, how he cheers him up a bit if he doesn't, how he also encourages him when he does his sets so he can finish them.

These praises make him blush and he thanks his pale skin for flushing a bit when training, so it can hide his blushing. Jc quickly grows a crush on the man and he tries to ignore it, nmj is only trying to do his job after all. But he finds they have nice chemistry and so he tries to flirt discreetly (which is not as discreet as he thinks it is, nor are his staring at nmj train somewhere else in the gym. Maybe he shouldn't listen too much to wwx advice).

Nmj does flirt back, but it often flies right over jc's head as he thinks he's simply joking with him. He does suspect sometimes that it is flirting, but then manages to convince him otherwise (“nmj must have better taste than this, he's simply being nice to me).

But on the other side, nmj /does/ like him and would like to flirt more openly, but jc doesn't always seem receptive to his flirting. (“I don't think flirting with a client is a good idea” admit lxc, “He must be really dense if he doesn't understand your obvious attempt at flirting” comment jgy). Nmj knows he cannot go too far, toeing the line of what is and isn't professional.

When their contract finally comes to an end they have already grown a bit closer, as they often talked a bit more than needed and often went on subjects that were sometimes more personal. Jc is a bit sad when nmj mentions he might not need his help anymore since he can keep it up like this way to keep the good shape he has right now (really he just wants to cut the professional/client relationship).

Jc is sure this means he won't be able to see nmj as much as he does.

“Would you like to go out for diner tonight?” he hears nmj ask.

“What?” jc asks after a moment, stunned by the question.

“I am asking you on a date,” nmj says more clearly, smiling when he sees jc blush (he can nearly hear in jgy voice, “I told you he was dense, you must be direct”)

of course, jc accepts and not long after they start dating. Jc still goes to the gym with nmj, but this time it isn't for a personal trainer, but to join his boyfriend in his training.

Finally, maybe going to the gym isn't /that/ bad.

(does it show I know fuck all about personal trainers and gyms jabfjb)

also, I just want to imagine the “first-time” nmj present jc to his two friends:

jgy: wait... aren't you the brother of jzx wife? Nmj: you know him?!? lxc: jc? Nmj: you too!? Lxc: he's the brother of lz's boyfriend nmj: !!!

Original

[loverontheleft]

Angel (revised)

Original request: Uhhhh I have a request based off of the most recent picture you reposted by @panicattheforeheadsblog.. I get such dom energy from that picture and I can’t handle it. I’m just thinking so he’s live on twitch talking to his fans about tour and stuff, and the reader wants his attention really bad so she creates a Twitch account with a username that makes him know that it’s her, but not any of the fans. Then the reader starts teasing him, begging for him. When he sees it he tries to ignore it but she knows he knows and starts messing with him more. Until he finally says he needs to sign off for the night. He comes into the room and punishes her for acting out and gets all dom 👌. Lots of spanking 👀☕ Sorry if that’s too specific I’m in a place and I got carried away 😂😂

Brendon x reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Thigh-riding, oral (both), sex, spanking, language.

-||-

Brendon pauses the stream, and his eyes flash behind his glasses. “Y/n. I know that’s you. Stop it.” His composure breaks, and he grins. “You’re being so bad, baby.” His voice is a low purr, and it takes all of your self-control to not whimper.

“You love when I’m bad,” you tease when you’re sure your voice won’t tremble with desire. You’re making a conscious effort not to look up from your phone where you’re messing with the Twitch app you’ve just installed purely to fuck with him because he isn’t fucking you. “Besides, I’m not doing anything.”

Brendon scoffs playfully, and you smirk. “Okay,” he murmurs. “So the username that is a combination of my anniversary with my still-not-public girlfriend and her dog’s name is…who then?” You shrug, still not making eye contact, murmuring something about strange coincidences. “I swear to god, Y/n,” Brendon laughs, shaking his head. “If you send one more message into the stream that’s just our safe word,” and now you look at him, grinning. Everyone else in the stream has been ignoring your single-word messages of ‘fondue,’ but you knew he was seeing them and you just knew it was getting to him. “You’re gonna need it,” he finishes, the longing and underlying tension clear in his voice.

You hesitate, unsure. “Wait…is…is that supposed to make me not send it again? Because honestly, that’s not very convincing. You should try harder, B.”

You stretch a little in the armchair opposite him on the couch, moaning at the pleasant burn through your legs. “You know I love it when you get a little rough. You feel guilty, but you shouldn’t; I love when I’ve got marks from you all over my body. Fingerprints, bruises, bite marks, anything. Hold me tight, claim me, fuck me hard, make me tear our pillows apart with my teeth because you’re pushing me to the edge with your tongue and fingers and cock. God, my absolute favorite thing is when you eat my pussy from behind while I’ve got my face pressed to a pillow. The way you smack my ass and pull me back onto your mouth so you can rub your tongue against all of me; I just can’t stop coming.” You’re bouncing one leg crossed over the other, your tone sugary sweet despite your words, and your eyes still on your phone.

“Y/n, please,” Brendon groans with a smile, closing his eyes. He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re killing me. You’re so…god, baby, you know I want you.” You drop your phone and raise your eyebrows teasingly. “You’re killing me. Come over here.” He slips his glasses back on and pats his lap, rubbing his thigh. “Come sit, baby.”

“Someone is still supposed to be streaming…” you point out, giving him a suggestive smile, stretching again. “But that same someone,” you murmur, “is baiting me. Wearing his glasses, calling me ‘baby,’ asking me to sit on his lap…someone knows I can’t resist any of those things.” He grins and closes his laptop, setting it to one side. You groan when he pulls his glasses down seductively. “Fuck, Brendon…you’re teasing, but you know I can’t resist that.”

“So stop resisting,” he tells you with a smile. “Come here, Angel. You wanted my attention so badly? I’m going to give it to you. And if you ask nicely, I’ll give you something else too.”

You grin and roll off of the chair, landing on your hands and knees so you can crawl over to him, hips swaying. “You’re killing me. You’re fucking killing me,” Brendon groans as you work your way across his living room at a glacial pace and bite your lip, eyes on his. “No—fuck, Y/n, don’t fucking slow down—no!” He fists his hair in frustration when you teasingly move even slower, mimicking a sloth to perfection as you crawl in slow-motion. “Better.” Brendon nods approvingly when you switch back to your original seductive speed. “Get over here.”

When you come to a stop at his feet, he beckons you closer, so you rise up enough for him to bend forward and snake an arm around your waist and haul you into his lap. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, nudging your ear with his nose. “There’s my Angel who needs some attention, hm?” You nod sweetly, and he grins, pulling back to kiss you softly. “You’ve got my attention now. Why don’t you settle on my thigh here and let me give you my full attention?” You shift a little so you’re straddling his thigh. “Hi love,” he whispers, tugging a lock of your hair affectionately. “Ride my thigh. Make yourself feel good; let me see you come like this.” You rise up to shove your leggings down and he stops you. ”Nope. Like this. Fully clothed. Want my angel to come for me fully clothed. Once she’s done that, then she can strip for me, and we’ll go from there.”

“You’re bad, B,” you scold him teasingly. “Making me come in my panties and leggings.” He smirks and tells you it’s payback for the way you were being bad earlier.

“Fair enough,” you acquiesce with a shrug and rest your hands on his shoulders lightly as you start to move on his thigh. Brendon grins and points out that you’ve admitted you were being bad if you’re agreeing this is payback. “Hush, B. That was then. This is now. Fuck,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Fuck, this feels so good. Your thighs, Bren…they’re always talking about your thighs and wanting to ride them and come on them, and Jesus if they only knew how good—oh, fuck!” Your voice jumps an octave when he starts kissing your neck. “Brendon, god, you know I love that.” His hands wrap around your hips, and he pulls you higher up his thigh so the top of yours is pressed to his erection. “Yes baby, fuck yes yes yes!” You squeal when you come, the seam of your leggings pressing against your clit and driving you over the edge; you’re babbling incoherent gratitude for his making you come as he rubs back against your thigh while making small sounds of pleasure. “Oh fuck oh god Brend—what are you doing?”

You’re disoriented and panting when he turns and pushes you onto your back so you’re stretched out on the couch. “Oh fuck, baby, what are you doing?” You’re breathless now as he tugs your leggings and panties down in one swift movement and wiggles so he’s kneeling between your thighs.

“Speaking of amazing thighs,” he mumbles, pressing warm kisses up toward your pelvis, starting at your knees and alternating between legs. “My baby has the best thighs. And the best pussy. And the best clit. And now that she’s been good for me and come on my thigh, I’m gonna eat her perfect pussy until she comes again.” You’re squirming like crazy by the time his mouth closes over you and his tongue rolls out; you both let out broken moans of pleasure as his tongue moves deeper. “Honey,” he gasps against you. “Angel, my perfect girl, oh fuck.” His arms curl under your thighs and he spreads you wider for his mouth so he can really torture you with his licking and gentle sucking and moaning and kissing. “Want to eat you out forever; shit, you’re the best.”

“Oh god Brendon, baby, yes, eat it!” Your head is pressed back against the couch armrest, and your hands are in his hair as his mouth moves faster and sloppier; he’s abandoned his refined technique since both of you know exactly what you need to get off right now. “Don’t stop,” you moan as his mouth moves over you, tongue licking in broad, wet, warm strokes while he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue using delicate little licks. “Oh fuck, Brendon don’t stop.” His lips are sliding over you; it actually feels like he’s making out with your pussy and, given the way he’s moaning, clutching your thighs, and rubbing against the couch, he’s loving it as much as you are. “Gonna make me come,” you manage, voice high and tight. “Gonna come, oh Jesus fucking Christ fuck me; Brendon, yes!” Your squeal of pleasure is ripped from you; you’re breathing hard, pulling at his hair, gasping and grinding as you praise him. “So fucking good, oh—oh fuck Brendon—making me come oh fuck baby the best you’re the best oh god yes yes yes now!”

“Holy fuck,” Brendon groans, licking at you eagerly. “Goddamn, you’re so sweet, Angel. Oh shit, come for me one more time, my love. Need more.” His fingers slide into you and curl insistently. “Once more, baby.” You moan as he rubs against your G-spot, and your entire body convulses.

“That’s my girl,” Brendon murmurs against you, tongue already moving and swiping over you tenderly. “My baby comes when she’s told. Damn, you’re such a good girl for me.” He scoots up and rests his head on your stomach, trying to catch his breath. “Sweet girl. Love you so much.”

“Oh god,” you whimper, reaching down and bending to the side to grope for his erection. “I fucking love you. Brendon, baby, I love you and I need you. Oh fuck, please, please, let me have you!” He nods and props himself up on one arm to move over you. You tangle a hand in his hair and pull his mouth, still slick with you, down to yours. “Fondue, baby, oh fuck, fondue.” Brendon pulls back and looks at you, obviously confused that you’re safe-wording now.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to die. Save me.” You grin at him, and he groans, crushing his mouth to yours and sliding into you; you scratch and claw at his back as he goes deep.

“Fuck, Angel. I’ll always save you.” You both gasp as you clench around him; his eyes roll back at the feeling, and you’ve tangled your legs around him—your lips are parted in silent ecstasy as you both move together. “God fucking damn,” Brendon manages, trying to focus on your face. You whimper and nod, rocking upward to meet his hips. The movement makes the crown of his cock brush over your clit and you’re dizzy with lust; you can already feel your impending orgasm, and he’s close too if the breathless praise he’s murmuring is any indication.

“Ow!” Your yelp of pain is sudden; you’re both frozen, and then start laughing after the shock passes. “Your glasses, B.” You reach to one side to grab the frames that have fallen off his face from his frenetic movement. “Here you go.”

“Should I go put my contacts in?” Brendon is laughing too as he places his glasses back on his face. You scoff and wiggle backward so his erection slips from you; you roll onto your stomach before arching up onto your hands and knees. “Baby?” His voice is a little strained as he watches you settle onto the couch, making yourself comfortable while waiting for his cock.

“No. Keep them on. They make me so hot. You’ll just have to fuck me from behind so they don’t fall off.” You’re grinning at him over your shoulder, and he smiles as he shifts too and grips both of your hips. Abruptly, he comments how you won’t be able to see them on him though. “So? I’ll know they’re there,” you murmur, winking at him. “Fuck me, Urie.”

“Oh god,” Brendon groans as he thrusts forward. “Fuck, baby, you feel so—love getting you like this—miss your pretty face, but I love holding you and going hard like you love—oh shit, Angel, yes, so goo—fuck!” His voice breaks off in a strangled moan as you tighten around him again; you’ve got your face buried in your arms as you work hard to meet him thrust for thrust. “Gonna come,” he warns you.

“Come, Bren,” you pant, lifting your head and turning to meet his eyes as best you can. “Come in me. Come in your Angel.” He groans again, lurching forward to kiss over your neck. The edge of his glasses presses against your skin, and you can’t control the whimper that comes out of you. “Fuck, Brendon!” He nods, tongue teasing behind your ear as he presses himself flush against you, his chest to your back. “Baby, I’m—right there, I’m gonna—”

“Come,” Brendon gasps, biting down lightly. Your shriek fills the room, and he bites harder, which makes your hips spasm as your orgasm rips through you. “Oh fucking hell, Angel; I’m coming in you,” he grunts, lips grazing your neck. “Oh fuck! Yes, come on my cock, yes!” His fingers dig into your hips, and his once-smooth rhythm is gone as he convulses, gasping your name and filling you. The heat makes you quiver; you tighten around him instinctively, wanting more. One of Brendon’s hands leaves your hip and snakes down between your legs to tease your clit, and it’s an instant reaction.

“Yes yes yes yes yes!” Your entire body is shaking with exertion as you chant and fall apart under his touch. “Oh fuck, Brendon, yes, there, now, fuck!” Your voice is tight, and your eyes are clenched shut; you can feel his breath on your neck and his middle finger is still moving over your clit in gentle circles. “Brendon, fuck!”

“Yeah Angel, say my name,” Brendon groans, resting his head on your shoulder blade. “That’s a good girl.” You’re both breathing hard; you can feel his chest heaving against your back before he scoots back and out of you. You whine at the loss, turning to give him a pleading look as he collapses in a seated position on the couch. “Come here, my love,” he murmurs, patting his lap. You turn and curl into yourself, head resting in his lap. Lazily, you run a finger up and down his still half-hard cock; he shivers, and you grin up at him. “Angelbaby,” he says softly, stroking your hair. “Someone still has to be punished for misbehaving while I was streaming.” He takes a lock of your hair and twists it around his index finger, tugging affectionately. You smile up at him, wriggling closer to his erection so you can lick at the base of his cock, grinning when you feel him twitch at your touch. “Don’t think you can blow your way out of this,” Brendon says with a laugh, tugging at your hair again.

“Oh I know I can’t. I’m just offering.” You grin and wrap a hand around him, pumping slowly. “Think you can spank me while I blow you? I promise not to bite your dick.” You smirk up at him, squeezing the head of his cock and licking eagerly at the rest of his shaft. “I promise,” you repeat, eyes closed as you taste yourself on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Brendon says helplessly, raking his hand through your hair, eyes wide. “You’re so…”

“Sexy? Dirty? Good? Amazing? I’ll take any of those,” you tell him with a small smile. He laughs and massages your scalp as he tells you E, all of the above. “Good answer,” you murmur, shifting onto your hands and knees and swallowing him down for a brief instant before pulling back with an audible pop as you let his cock slip out of your lips. “How many spankings did I earn, sir?” You’re rocking back and forth, wiggling your hips in anticipation. “Angel was such a bad girl,” you purr, licking at the tip of his cock.

“She was,” Brendon agrees in a low voice, still stroking your hair lovingly. “How many does my bad girl think she’s earned?”

You pause to mull this over, stroking his cock idly as you think. “Well,” you muse. “Let’s consider what exactly I did. I teased you, certainly.”

“You did.”

“And it was public since you were streaming.”

“It was.”

“And I made you cut your stream short so I could get off on your thigh,” you point out. “Three things.”

Brendon nods, considering. His hand leaves your hair and starts rubbing gentle circles over your ass and the backs of your thighs. “I think twenty for the teasing,” he decides, and you nod, telling him that sounds fair. He grins down at you. “And another ten for the public factor.” He pauses for another moment. “And another ten for ending the stream.”

“Forty?” Your voice is small, and he nods. Using his free hand, he cups your face and raises it gently so you meet his eyes. He searches your face, concern evident.

“Angel, we don’t have to—please you know you do not have to—we can—I don’t expect you to always—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Forty is good. I’m okay.” He nods slowly, fingers stroking your face now tenderly. He’s your first partner you’ve trusted enough to confess your interest in spanking; forty is certainly the most you’ve ever earned, but he’s been so good and compassionate as you both explore this.

He was quick to tell you he’d never spanked anyone before, but if it’s what you wanted…the first night you tried was one that solidified your faith in and love for him—both of you giggling and moaning and touching and teasing throughout, both of you surprised at how much you both enjoyed it. Because of that, you have full faith he’ll take care of you, and you both know he’ll stop before you safeword if there’s even a hint of you being uncomfortable.

“Just…” you falter, trying to find the words. “Pace yourself,” you finally say, arching your back into his touch. “Maybe only do the last…ten at full force.”

“Of course, Angel. Whatever you want,” Brendon soothes, kissing you softly. “Don’t bite my dick.” You giggle and kiss him back, shaking your head.

“I promise. Will you be counting since my mouth will be full?”

“Yeah honey,” Brendon murmurs. “I’ll count. You just focus on my cock.” He shifts slightly and pats you gently, almost as a gentle warning. “You ready?” You nod and suck the head of his cock in between your lips. “Fuck,” he grunts, letting his hand make contact. “My Angel sucks my cock so good. That’s one.” His hand pulls back and lands again. “Two.” You suck him down deeper, relishing how his cock twitches in your mouth when he spanks you. “Oh fuck, yes!”

-||-

You’re squealing around his cock, mouth tight and body rocking back and forth gently as Brendon reaches the final five. He’s at full force now as promised, and you’re so wet that it’s spread down your inner thighs. “Thirty-six,” Brendon groans, and you lurch forward under his hand. Your mouth tightens even more as your head moves to take him deeper. “Fuck, Angel, just the tip,” Brendon tells you in a tense voice. “Just the tip. That’s a good girl. Thirty—sev—oh fuck yes, such a good girl for me, sucking on my cock so nicely, shit baby, oh god, thirty-eight, yes yes yes love, thirty-nine, oh Jesus fucking Chr—shit!” Brendon is gasping as you suck hard, your hand clenching around the base of his cock and stroking upward urgently. You’ve been moaning and whining at each bit of contact, each time pushing you closer to the edge. “Gonna come with me?” Brendon groans, shifting slightly so the hand he’s been using to spank you is now between your legs and his other hand is angled, a bit awkwardly, to deliver the last swat. You nod as best you can with his cock in between your lips and he groans again, breath hitching. “Fuck, Angel. Jesus, okay, forty—holy sweet god in heaven yes!” Your own orgasm sends you reeling and you’re shrieking around his cock for the split second that he isn’t filling your mouth. His fingers slide into you and he curls them, doubling the intensity of your orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Brendon’s helpless chant fills your ears and you swallow eagerly before letting him slip from your mouth when he’s spent so you can let out your own squeals of pleasure.

“Brendon, baby, yes!” Your voice is hoarse and he immediately wraps an arm around you and flips you onto your back before settling between your legs, laying flat over you so your chests are together. “Holy shit,” you murmur after a moment, brushing your fingers over his face tenderly, lingering on the frame of his glasses almost in awe. “You’re…you’re incredible.” You bite your lip before you kiss him gently and he meets your embrace, lips moving over yours.

“No, you are, my love,” he counters when you part. “You’re something else entirely. I love you so much.” You repeat it back to him, letting your head rest on the throw pillows. He slumps over you, face in the crook of your neck. “Is it nap time, my love?”

“Hell yes,” you say with a laugh, running both of your hands through his hair as he nuzzles your shoulder. “I don’t think I could move an inch.” He smiles against your skin and makes a soft sound, agreeing with you. “Rest, baby,” you whisper to him, closing your eyes.

“You too, Angel,” he murmurs affectionately, turning his head to kiss your neck gently. “My good girl worked hard, taking those spankings and sucking my cock; she deserves a good nap.” You yawn, already half-asleep as he continues to praise you sleepily, so you’re not positive, but you think the last coherent thing he murmurs is, “god bless these glasses.”

[dreadfutures]

Blue’s DA: Absolution Post

Just finished my first viewing. Impressions, spoilers, and some rambling. Let’s go! Stream of consciousness, baby.

When I first saw my little sisters playing DAI, it struck me as “THE GAY GAME” and BOY is this THE GAY FRANCHISE. And it’s so normal. No one makes a big deal about it at all. It’s just fuckin normal and everyone is so flirty from square one. There ain’t no one gonna watch this and then go into DA4 not being aware this is a queer friendly world.

The big things I’m taking away, besides that:

- Where do people go when they die? Death seems to be a central question of Absolution. Immortality is a central question in Thedas tbh, and I have so many questions that I am betting will absolutely be answered in DA4.

- The architecture: Nevarra has domes, and its mage tower is very very square. Ziggurat-y. Tevinter reminded me a lot of parts of Spain with its architecture, the mosaics in particular, but other things to. Morocco. A lot of Morocco actually. I love that. The canals, the verdantness, the tiered city on a mesa, I really loved.

- Parkour. And gameplay. Or at least the vibe of what I imagine DA4 is trying to go for.

- The politics of Tevinter.

SO here’s my first thing. If this is what one powerful Magister can do with blood magic and an ancient artifact--and ONE high dragon’s blood.... What the FUCK will Solas’s ritual do? (obviously, tear down the Veil.)

Also there wasn’t a lot of Veil being explained, but I feel like the most important thing for new people is the Spirits, Demons, Magic, Blood Magic, and Slavery.

Wisdom/Memory’s 8 eyes (as a Spirit) became 6 eyes when they were corrupted to Enmity/Pride.

Speaking of Memory--Amelia Pavus? Hello.

I 100% expect to hear something about Rezaren’s aspirations to become the Black Divine, in DA4. I 100% expect we’re going to see Dorian’s efforts to reform Tevinter, and the position of Black Divine will be incredibly relevant.

Honestly the internal politics in Tevinter are so fascinating. Tassia’s honest, earnest desire to make Tevinter better than its worst rumors. Trying to hold the people around her to higher standards--even when they are someone she loves. In the end, when her people need her to help the wounded, that’s what she does. That’s when she steps out of Rez’s games, and she goes to help people.

How does that play into Dorian and Maevaris’s efforts and the Lucerni?

We also, I don’t think, get a great view of how Tessia treats and thinks of elves and slaves. Is that something she also wants to fix in Tevinter? No idea.

I don’t think it’s a cheap throwaway that the Templar who tried to stop the gang in the wine cellar got the voiced line: “you’re the reason all my friends are dead.” They did a really good job I think emphasizing, with the camaraderie of the Tevinter Templars WHO DONT USE LYRIUM TO NEGATE MAGIC. THE POOR FOOLS. They’re just people.

I'm a little perplexed that Tassia didn't seem to know Neb was dead/an elf. She seems so in tune with the Templars under command, and while I get that he seems to be Rez's personal guard, he also somehow seems to be rank and file with the guards she works with? I don't know. But the way she talks to him makes it seem like she thinks he's living and conscious.

Someone said that Hira knows Meredith (The Crimson Knight) is going to wage war on all mages. I don’t think that’s true. I think it’s more likely that Hira has no idea the Crimson Knight is Meredith? And Meredith’s war is against the world, or Tevinter. It seems like Meredith may have been taken over by something or left a Demon of something or is channeling something at the heart of the red lyrium consciousness that just wants war, vengeance, bloodshed.

I honestly thought Hira would have been loyal to the Qun. This feels like it came out of nowhere, but at the same time, so did Meredith’s appearance here:

Someone suggested that we see Meredith in the Black Emporium in this show, but I really don’t think so? It doesn’t look like the BE. I know she was shown in DAI. I know.

I know most of the stories told in Dread Wolf Take You in Tevinter Nights were lies, or partially so, but I still feel like we should have heard about this. So I don’t know. Either way, Meredith shouldn’t have the idol, though.

We knew that the Venatori were still around post-Inquisition. Now we know there are still Red Templars about.

I think fewer people knew that the Venatori have (supposedly) been around longer than the Inquisition and Corypheus...? It took me a little bit and I’m still not 100% sure, but Hira being a child when the Venatori killed her family wouldn’t make sense with an Inquisition timeline.

Tinfoil hat: There are actually two factions within the Evanuris. Both evil and terrible, both going to destroy the world, and Solas stands between them. One is Red Lyrium aligned and one is Blight aligned, hence why we have Meredith vs. Corypheus (red lyrum vs. darkspawn) in the mural above. I know, I know, they’re intertwined. But I feel an itch. And I’m mighty suspicious.

I’m so suspicious about which Evanuris are in Trespasser’s Elven Mountain Ruins and which aren’t. It feels like factions. It feels like the Forgotten Ones/Evanuris split isn’t the only split, or it’s more significant than we realize.

Okay so what happens to dead people? Was it really Justinia we saw in Here Lies the Abyss in DAI? Was this really Neb? You could say “it was really a Spirit who took Neb’s form, embodied Neb’s love for his sister, and stood against blood magic and so decided to destroy Neb’s body.” But I think it was really Neb. I really do. So what happens to people when they die? Is it only elves? Is it humans?

The Spirit says at the beginning: “By name and by nature, mortals are doomed to die.” Which by the way is a very Cole way of saying things I think, and I love it.

I don’t think it was a coincidence that the dragon doesn’t attack Qwydion the Qunari and likes her.

Speaking of Qwydion, she’s introduced as a rebel mage. Which to me implies that she’s from a faction that rebelled against the Circle. Not that she’s someone who left the Qun.

It’s so interesting that we can see Rez’s mother remove a demon from her son and put it in someone else. So we could deal with abominations and with Harrowings all along, huh. lol.

I’ve been making a list of silly Andrastian sayings and Thedas-isms lol. There were some good ones in this show.

The magic in this show was badass. Super awesome. Beyond just the scale of it. The dome that gets put around the circulum looks like the one Corypheus put around Calpernia's old master. Rez’s magic feels way more powerful than other peoples, and it looks awesome. His multi-threaded missile attack when he’s defending against the sloth demons that attacked with Pride look awesome.

If you think about it this whole show revolves around what is acceptable collateral damage. The whole temple is going to kill everyone inside. That’s lit.

I wish I knew what those bird things were that were setting off the traps throughout the temple.

In general this temple makes me scratch my head. Andraste (who loses her nose in the finale lmfao) is holding magic in her hands. Andraste seems to be more of a saint than the pinnacle of the religion in Tevinter, so it’s weird that she’s all over. Cool I guess, I don’t have anything else to say, really. Except that in Rez’s dream of being Black Divine, his outfit was terrible. LOL

I actually really loved the dream sequence. It felt super validating to how I’ve always imagined Fade sequences going lol.

They also I don’t think mentioned the Fade at all lol.

okay okay i’m done for now x) I’m stewing up some other theories and stuff but yeah.

[turtlemagnum]

this is probably gonna turn out a bit stream of conscious-y, but the other day i learned that toriyama didn't consider goku to be a hero, and that got me thinking about what heroism means in fiction and why i intuitively kinda recognized this intentional trait of goku's myself. and i think it comes down to one main reason: intent.

does goku do heroic things? absolutely. but that's incidental to who he is as a person. why does he train and fight? because he loves to do it. why does he help those around him? because he loves to do it, and on a gut level he hates the casual cruelty that so often comes with villainy and for want of a better, more positive sounding way to phrase this, he's simply a bit of a bleeding heart for anybody and everybody he meets. he doesn't help & fight people for Justice or Truth, he does it because he simply wants to. a selfish means of engaging with the world that could just as easily be adapted into the philosophy of an outright villainous character, and is just good in the hands of goku who's still fundamentally a pretty good guy.

because i've been watching fist of the north star alongside dragon ball, comparisons to ken as another fairly formative shonen protagonist came to mind in my half asleep delirium that prompted this post. now ken? while i would consider him as a character to also be a flawed human being, i'd also consider him to be a more conventional hero. why does he fight? to protect the weak and innocent, and because it's his responsibility as the world's strongest man. has a rigid, often too rigid moral code that he has to stick to no matter what, because that's who he is. he doesn't seem to enjoy fighting, and only wants to do it when absolutely necessary (and even then, i feel as though he often lets people go when he really shouldn't, but that's a whole other deal). frankly, ken's strength could be reasonably read as something of a burden on him; a burden he has to carry for the sake of those around him. in a better, less violent world, he likely would see little to no action. now compare that to goku.

even in times of peace, goku craves a fight and still regularly spars with those around him endlessly. it comes out to a frankly selfish degree, often risking the lives of countless people just for a better fight (like with letting vegeta go so he can be a better fight later). it's arguably his biggest flaw as a person. and isn't that great? that there's that nuance to who he is, how even though he almost always does ultimately great things it's for an entirely self motivated reason. goku is a very... simple, character. a lot like an animal, he's very motivated by basic needs and urges. he eats when he's hungry, sleeps when he's tired, and fights when he's itchin' for a fist in his gut. and i think that's honestly kind of beautiful

[flower-seller]

In Regard to Scars

Salem Flowerseller here! For funsies I decided to post a few streamlined segments of writing that give just a smidgen more context to FS!Volo's facial scar and also mostly show off some of Noodle's fantastic writing as Volo from our RPs! 👀

This one was a very fun one and these bits are taken from the very emotional tail end of it.

It can be found below the readmore and I'm stating a warning for referenced past harm to Volo as a child.

"Flattery can only get you so far, Golden Boy," Euphorbia tutted, her own face warming from his blurted compliment. "I do think so, though. When the light hits you right, your hair shines like a second sun. You're going to have to tell me your secret to that sheen!" A slender finger waved his way as she spoke, the woman's eyes sparkling with something warm. 

There was a pause, then she continued in a softer, cautious voice. "May I…touch it?"

……

She looked like she was serious. 

She was serious. In what world would she have jokingly asked such a thing? 

His hair practically puffed as he buried his face deeper into his hands for another few seconds. Then, he dropped them entirely. His eye was screwed shut as he tried to speak, failing at first, but on the second pass he managed an actual sound. 

“Yyyy—” He held the note, hesitating. No one had really touched his hair outside of his family. And well, that was to say it had been a long time. He kept his hair in such a way not just for the sake of style, though over time he had come to like it the way he usually had it. The shagginess he’d fallen into was a result of lacking care. Subconsciously, his body shied away from hers, suddenly very self conscious. 

Truthfully, he knew well that he was good looking. He had many a customer tell him as much. He wouldn’t lie, he occasionally laid on the charm to get what he wanted. A bat of lashes here, a coy smile there, but always out of reach. But that was because he hid the damaged parts that such a tactic worked. Hell, Euphorbia was taken aback by the sheer amount of scars that littered his tattered body. He didn’t want to think about what anyone other than her would truly think. 

He wished his scars stopped at his shoulders. 

“—eee—“ He was physically fighting the word, his mouth stuck in a grimace as he suddenly spiraled. What if she thought he was ugly? What if she thought he was ugly? 

He began to sweat. His breath hitched, caught in his tightening throat. He was pretty! He was handsome! Right?

Right?

And suddenly he felt like he was going to vomit and die on the spot. 

He didn’t even realize tears started streaming down his face until he had to wipe them away. She was going to think he was ugly, and his entire facade was going to shatter. He already began to crumble before she even had a chance to cast her judgment. There was that tiny, rational voice rattling in his head that knew she wouldn’t reject him, and certainly not after all he had already said and done, and yet—

He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, trying to keep the world from spinning. 

He cursed himself inwardly for losing it like he was over something so... Asinine. He swallowed hard, his brows pinching together tightly as he tried to focus. 

She was going to touch his hair. She was going to see. 

“—es.” 

“Yes.”

He nodded against her, afraid his voice was far too quiet to hear, the sound so far from his ears he couldn’t tell. 

He wanted this. He wanted this so badly it hurt. He wanted to feel kind hands upon him, upon his hair, upon his face. He starved for it, that closeness. He was so very desperate, melting in the woman’s arms as he was. 

He grasped her once extended hand and pulled it to his face, pressing into the warmth of her much smaller and softer palm. Hot tears trailed between her fingers as he, in his own mind, ripped the bandage off himself. 

There were scars there too. 

“Please. Please…,” He pleaded. For what? He didn’t know entirely.

“Y-you can… You can touch my hair, yeah?” He practically panted against the panicked thumping of his anxious heart. 

……

It was like Volo was fighting with himself over her request, cringing away yet pressing forward all at once. Fear radiated off of him in waves like heat from stone.

She wanted to be so careful with him and treat her friend like a fragile porcelain doll, or maybe a small, scared animal. But was that what he really needed? 

Brushing the tip of her nose against Volo's ear as he leaned into her, she didn't think so. He needed tenderness, undoubtedly, a soft touch. Euphorbia would instead forgo hesitance.

"Let me know if you need me to stop." There was a second where she resisted his hold as she spoke, making sure he heard her, and then she laid her hand upon the blond's cheek and cupped it.

Euphorbia studied her dear companion through lashes of ice, smiling as she ran her free hand along his scalp, trailing fingers that followed the shining gold flow from root to pale tip with a look of intrigue. She'd thought it was a trick of the light before, but Volo's hair did indeed lighten near the ends. It wasn't in scattered early greying streaks, the paleness crept up from the ends in a soft gradient before stopping entirely.

"No wonder it's so shiny. It has a texture like silk," she hummed, sinking her fingers in further to carefully thread them through a section. "And it goes to this soft cream color at the tips. I don't think I ever noticed that before."

The hand on his cheek shifted, her thumb gently swiping some of his tears away before she continued her exploration.

Both hands worked now, grown confident from the lack of complaint as they mapped out the curves of Volo's skull beneath his mane of sunlight. Until finally, her fingers flitted along the curtain of bangs at his right side that had always hidden half of his face from her.

They did not pull the curtain back so much as caress it out of the way, a soft smile creasing Euphorbia’s lips as she picked a few stray strands out of the way of the final reveal.

……

He held his breath. Bracing.

She carefully pried away strand by strand until. 

Until he had to face her completely.

He slowly opened his eyes, both of them. His face burned in embarrassment, in shame. Between his right eye and eyebrow nestled a deep burn. Different from the ones that marred his body. This one held shape. 

It was a brand. 

The purposeful mark permanently forced his right eye into a harsh squint. He knew he could never open it any further due to the stiffened and damaged flesh. The eye itself was a notable few shades lighter than his other, cloudy and hazed over the years. 

The mark looked to be that of some sort of flower held within a simple circle; small but effective. 

His hand reached up to hide his face again, but he forced it back down. This was it, this was him in all his broken glory. He’d have laughed if he was so utterly mortified. 

His eyes darted about Euphorbia’s face, immediately searching for that tinge of disgust or unwanting he feared so deeply. He couldn’t convince himself she wouldn’t recoil. 

They had ruined his face for life. Marked him as their property. He wasn’t theirs, no, not anymore. But that would never change the fact that he once was.

……

The soft smile that curved Euphorbia’s lips remained unchanged as she unveiled what had made Volo so terrified to be seen, truly seen, by her. Though in the shadow of her lashes, those hollow rings making up the woman's pupils contracted smaller. The warmth that filled her dimmed, shrinking back into the core of her chest while she swept a finger across his cheek.

She had a good idea where such a clearly man-made mark might come from, given his story. One that didn't match the crest that she'd seen in his mother’s book nor the half desecrated iterations around the property.

Euphorbia sighed softly, bringing her face closer to Volo's.

Carefully, deliberately, the woman brushed her lips across the upper edge of the cauterized scar when he didn't flee away. 

Was it a kiss, or just a tender motion so like it? That didn't matter as much as what that little brush truly meant.

Acceptance.

"You know," she murmured once she drew back, head tilting. "When I offered to relay you information about the Himura before, a different thought occurred to me. But I thought I was being needlessly grim."

Idly, Euphorbia adjusted the blond's bangs, tidying them to either side to keep his full face in view as she spoke with a calm that crackled with dire weight. "My first instinct was offering to bring you their heads for confirmation should I find any. Sounds silly, mm? But I…didn't want to rob you of something more personal than that."

Oh, but she would if he asked her to.

"I think I stand by that decision more than ever."

Who would do this to a child? He said he was thirteen at the time, still wet behind the ears. 

People could be truly foul.

……

He had inwardly prepared for the worst as a contingency, knowing well he would have taken even the slightest draw back from him as a sign he would need to leave immediately. 

Only so many people knew of the mark, and he’d always been met with shock or pity or worse and he couldn’t handle that from Euph too. He’d have been too embarrassed to stay. He knew if he just slid through a particular pocket of the floor behind Euphorbia, he could have disappeared into the walls. 

Not that he made a habit of lurking in the walls or anything. Definitely not that. 

But she didn’t do either of those things, at least if she had he thankfully peered through veiled and failing vision anyway. Crisis averted! He practically deflated against her caress, realizing she wasn’t one to recoil. They’d both had their scars, and perhaps that was something of a bond between the two of them. 

Broken. 

They were broken.

But that could be ok. It would have to be ok. 

Volo’s good eye kept focus on hers, his other eye trying to follow suit as his gaze flicked to and fro. Then she leaned in. He inhaled sharply through his nose but remained still as she closed the space and… 

And, and, and—!

His face burned anew as her lips brushed past his scar. She’d… She’d…! Her words gripped him and pulled him out of whatever spinning his brain was starting up again. He pulled back when she did, though admittedly a bit faster than intended. Still he found that her hands remained upon him, and for that his nerves tamped down again. He idly wondered how he even was still breathing, but he carried on doing just that. One breath at a time, he kept his focus on her and only her. 

He feared he’d fly away on the breeze if he didn’t.

She drew him in with the beginning of her self revelation, and he watched her closely. Watching her mouth form her words carefully, the sun beside them bathing her in golden light and highlighting just how… Pretty she really was. 

Even saying such things as willfully beheading people she personally never knew on his behalf. 

His breath shuddered in his throat. 

His mouth went dry. He licked his lip. 

He stared at her, wide eyed and frozen in time. 

She was… The most beautifully tangible thing he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes upon. 

He buried the hands that framed his face into his own and embraced them. The way his own eclipsed her’s so completely was far from lost upon him. He squeezed them both tenderly, sighing as he did.