#LOVE YA'LL GREATLY!!

[whorediaries-09]

hey I love your writing. I’d love if you could do like a James potter x reader where James is smoking and reader finds it really hot and has maybe there in public so she’s just sitting there really turned on and can’t do anything about it ??

hello, love! do you mind if i take a piece of your mind because this idea had me reeling. hehe, thank you for sending in the request!

can't you see, you're meant for me?

pairing- bsfdad!james potter x reader warning(s)-suggestive content, cigarettes. a/n- i'm a sucker for dilf james...sorry not sorry.

ps- this is very short :p. lmk if ya'll would like a part two hehe.

little train

you shouldn't be thinking about his biceps. not when you're out and about in public. but still, your mind doesn't stop reeling. you watch the sun rays reflect on his brown skin, reflecting the stretch marks he's got on his arms. they're beautiful, you think, as the veins pop from within his skin. he inhales another puff from the cigarette, watching as the smoke ascends into the sky.

'want one, love?' he asks.

'no mr. potter,' he huffs.

'i've asked you so many times to not call me that. you know you can call me james,'

'ah-okay, james, i don't want a cigarette.' he laughs.

'i don't think i'd be able to handle two stoners either ways.'

you're listening to him intently. at least that's what he thinks.

your mind however in occupied in the idea of having his hand wrap around your throat, as he'd push you to the wall, kissing you harsh. you imagine his fingers exploring every bit of your bare skin, with his rough calloused hands. you'd let him, happily. and even if deep down you know it was wrong to be fantasizing about your best friend's dad.

god, you couldn't help yourself.

'love, are you listening?' he asked, apparently caught up on the way you'd zoned out. you'd been practically zoned out, mesmerized by his biceps. he threw the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with the sole of his shoe.

you'd been caught. fuck.

'you seem lost, are you okay?' he said, moving towards you. he was wearing a compression sleeveless shirt paired with gray sweatpants. the ultimate outfit to get you reeling and drooling over him.

'i-ah- i zoned out, james. i'm okay,'

he didn't buy your lie. instead, he offered you a wicked smile.

'you are?'

'totally,' you answered, overly cheerful.

'and i totally believe you.' you blushed, cursing yourself internally.

'now tell me, what is your pretty mind thinking about?' he said, moving closer. you stammered, taking a few steps back.

'i-i'm just thinking about-'

'about?' he knew what you'd been thinking about. you could see it in his eyes. in his soft hazel eyes there was a twinge of malice, a twinge of mischief which you could recognize so well. and god forbid it made you so weak in the knees. you closed your eyes, trying to let your heart stop before you spoke the next words,

'you know what i'm thinking about, james.' he smiled lopsidedly, as if greatly amused, running his tongue over this upper row of teeth.

'do i now, love?'

'i think so, yes.' even if you're faking your confidence, he can right see through your act. he can see you crumbling from within as he towers over you, asking you mundane questions. and god does he love the effect he has on you.

he tests the waters, his palm coming closer to your face. you lean towards it, but just as your face is about to touch the crevice of his palm, your best friend shouts,

'oi! papa! i'm coming,' you jump away from him as harry comes running towards james. in your head, you hate how harry came in and ruined the moment. but you're also grateful because you didn't think you'd be able to control yourself if he held your face. however, it was safe to say the ride back home was more torturous than ever.

he kept tapping his fingers on the passenger's seat while he drove, seemingly nonchalant. but boy both of you knew it drove you fucking crazy.

*************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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[mewtwoandme]

A bit of an update/mini announcement. My grandmother's situation has been looking up. We're gradually getting things in order and this whole ordeal should be straightened out soon. It's greatly taken a lot out of me this past month though, but I've been resting a lot recently cause now we're just biding our time until our court date in October. My motivation has still been very much absent, but I'd love to get the creative juices flowing again in some way.

So here's my mini announcement: I'm thinking about doing a game with ya'll. Something similar to the ones where you get to ask the characters questions, but instead, it'll be with prompts! I'll come up with a list of prompts for ya'll to choose from, and I draw a one-shot for whatever activity you'd like to see my characters do! I also think I'd be fun to do a fall/autumn theme with it being around the corner, and rather than setting a time limit, this will be an ongoing... "event" I guess we'll call it, for the fall season (or just until I decide to stop, depending on how I feel). So if someone were to pick, for example: 🎃-Carve Pumpkins, I'll draw a one-shot of the mewtwo fam making jack-o-lanterns XD

So let me know if that'd be something you'd be interested in ^^

[hobunaga]

UPDATED VERSION, thank you @guzhufuren for the additional info!!!

my friend wanted me to make a chart of, Meet you at the Blossom, characters and what their relationship is. Now I don't know everything, I don't even know if I got the names correct but I hope this clarifies a little what is going on here.

here are some clarifications(careful, spoilers)

Xiaobao's parents: Xiaobao's dad found Xiaobao's mom wandering around town one day and assumed she was the daughter of a wealthy family and had lived a really sheltered life(she is). He got her drunk, they slept together and he took responsibility by marrying her and taking care of her.

Tong'en: Now I don't know for sure if she loved any of the men that I attached her to, but they were in love with her so I kinda just added it in case her feelings were genuine or if she was only doing what she had to to survive. The only person I can confirm she truly cared for is Zongzheng Qiyuan and they had a brotherly and sisterly bond only.

Xue Xiaoyu: Now ya'll might be wondering why she has a red line towards Xiaobao and it's kinda given that she has a big crush on him. Her cousin however is his true love so I think she'll put on her big girl pants eventually and move on. Her brother is Xue Lianyu, Xiaobao's best friend. She is also the cousin of Huai'en.

Que Siming and Jinbao: They have 2 names cause in the extra I read, they had changed their names at least once. Jinbao was originally known as Wang Erhu and Que Siming was called Yue Siming. Que Siming was most likely adopted by the doctor whom was caring for him after his father was sentenced for treason and Jinbao was sold to Xiaobao at a young age.

Jinbao and Zhao Cai and Que Siming: Similar to the Xiaobao, Su Yin, and Huai'en jealousy trope, Que Siming's jealousy is mainly centered around Jinbao and Zhao Cai's relationship. Now I don't know if Jinbao has a thing for Zhao Cai, but Jinbao maybe masturbated to Zhao Cai once??? or Zhao Cai ran into him while he was masturbating??? I don't know... if someone can interpret this scene let me know because English is not my first language.

Zhao Cai and Medicine Girl: In Jinbao's side story, Jinbao Marries a Wife, it was stated that Zhao Cai was in a heated relationship with this medicine girl and frequently went out to see her during the time Xiaobao was still sick with the cold needle poison. I don't know if they end up together at the end but it was the only relationship that was mentioned in the story for him.

Shaoyu and Su Yin: So apparently there is a one sided interest in their interactions according to the awe inspiring @guzhufuren . When I read it, I wasn't sure how to exactly interpret their relationship but I can see it now that Shaoyu is just as obsessive and possessive as his older brother is. Good luck getting away, Su Yin!

Shaoyu and Huai'en: Half brothers with a somewhat refreshing ending in the live action that hints that there is a possibility of them bonding later in the future. Now I'm not sure which woman mothered Shaoyu, but I'm going to assume it's the ex empress which makes them half-brothers(well Tong'en only birthed one child so it's a given). Now usually if the mother loses the favor of the emperor to even be demoted out of being empress, that must mean that it heavily affects Shaoyu's standing as crown prince as well. Luckily no other princes were mentioned so it's more likely that Huai'en won't compete for the throne and Shaoyu will still inherit it.

The Zongzhen 4 brothers: Now they're just fucking insane and the only sane one is Zongzhen Qiyuan. Even the emperor is a little cuckoo but hey, that's what stress does to you right? They need to sit down, relax, and chill a little. I'm so glad two of them greatly support Huai'en's decisions.

ps: I'm sorry if I got the names wrong or I didn't name a few of the characters. Either way, I think this is the relationship chart?

[badbatch-badfics]

Padawan (TBB x Male Reader) Part 2

Part 1

Characters: The Bad Batch - Cross hair + Cid.

Relationship: All platonic

POV: Only 2nd (you/yours)

Pronouns: he/him

Species: Unspecified

Content: Smidge of angst and worry, but mainly found family growing into fluff

Warnings: General TBB stuff, a little bit about Order 66. Cringe lol.

Word Count: 2,796

Notes: If anyone has any requests/ideas for this 'series,' please let me know! I'd love to learn more about what ya'll like and incorporate it. (and i'll obviously credit you in the notes for whichever part it goes in)

The Bad Batch was sound asleep, exempt from their designated pilot.  Tech was comfortably cruising through hyper-space, multitasking on a new upgrade for Echo’s arm-scomp and watching the scanners.  A light beep alerted him, signaling that they were approaching Ord Mantell.  He lightly pushed his goggles upwards, before pressing a series of buttons.  The Marauder shook as it dropped from hyperspace, the tremors waking Hunter up from his nap in the co-pilot's seat.  He would usually sleep in his bunk until Tech needed a break, but his bunk was… preoccupied, so to speak.

“We close to Ord Mantell, Tech?” Hunter asked groggily, cracking his neck.  “Approximately 11 minutes and 36 seconds until we enter the atmosphere, and then another 23 minutes until we reach the landing pad.  I would begin waking everyone else up.”  With a sign, Hunter stood up, arms reaching far above his head, ever-so-slightly leaning backwards.  He turned around and started heading towards the bunks, wondering how he should go about waking you up.  He didn’t know how much you would remember, and he certainly didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Of course, there was always the option of letting your body wake up on its own time, and just having someone stick with the ship until then, but there was the risk of general clatter and ruckus occurring and startling you awake anyway, which would be a harsh wake-up call, to say the least.  After a second more of contemplation, he finally settled on leaving you be, and simply shushing Wrecker the moment his eyes opened.  He walked up to his brother, shaking his arm.  Wrecker awoke with a large grunt, like an ancient monster waking from a coma in an echoing mountain, before Hunter aggressively shushed him.  He sharply pointed across the walking strip to your body, an absolute tangled mess of limbs and droll.

Wrecker got the hint, making an ‘oohhh’ sound before slowly sitting up, careful to minimize the amount of creaking.  Hunter walked on, heading towards Echo and Omega, shaking them both awake- Omega more gently.  She yawned and stretched, smiling and greeting Hunter, before quickly grabbing her day-clothes before heading off to the fresher to change.  Hunter went back to the cockpit, where his brothers were already making quiet discussions of what to do with you, the ‘teenager-that-had-essentially-magic-powers-and-was-being-hunted.’  Primarily how they would handle Cid.  She tolerated them because they did jobs for her, and they didn’t really matter to the Empire- except for Omega, it was appearing.  But a Padawan?  That would be a lot of credits, and it would put someone on the Empire’s good side- at least for a little bit.  Cid wasn’t above ratting them out for that kind of profit.  Or, at least, she wasn’t above ratting out the Padawan while keeping them away from the Empire’s eyes for the sake of missions.  “Perhaps we can convince Cid that his use in missions, among other things, would outweigh the reward from the Empire.  Even without using the Force in a physical push-and-pull manner, it can still be used for mind tricks, sensing danger, and much more, depending on his skill set.  We could increase our efficiency and time duration of missions greatly, which would hold a great profit for Cid,” Tech explained, preparing for the Marauder to enter Ord Mantell’s atmosphere.

“That's true, but there’s no way to know what Cid will say- if she agrees, great, but if she doesn’t…” Hunter responded, eyes glancing back at your sleeping form as he trailed off.  If they told her about you, and she decided to tell the Empire, then no one would be safe.

“There’s no way for Cid to be kept in the dark long enough to find a better solution, and we can’t exactly just hide a whole person in the Marauder,” Echo added on, waving his scomp-link around the cockpit for emphasis.

“Of course, this is all assuming that (Y/N) will want to remain with us.  He may know someone, or someplace, that is safe.  Additionally, he may even know Cid.  Echo said that she would occasionally report to the Jedi,” Tech countered, briefly glancing back towards his brothers, away from the planet and control panel.  Echo nodded in confirmation.  “Do we…” Hunter trailed off, sighing, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “do we have any place to go if Cid decides to tell the Empire?  Echo, do you know anyone else who would help?”

“Rex, obviously- but he’s more involved with defeating the Empire than we are, so it’d be an extra risk to the kid.  Maybe Cut and Suu, if we can get a hold of them.  But I don’t think either of us want to put that kind of risk on them- not with Jek and Shaeeah.”  Wrecker made a comment of agreement, briefly looking up from his game of Chopsticks with Omega.  A heavy silence fell over the group, uncertainty thick in the air.

“Entering the atmosphere,” Tech reported, breaking the awkward silence.  The Marauder shook as gravity’s presence took its toll.  It settled back down to a smooth ride within a minute, the greens and browns- mainly browns- of Ord Mantell’s natural landscape coming closer.  “I think Cid will understand, plus, like Tech said, (Y/N) can help us out!” Omega added, not looking up from her hands.

Hunter looked down, contemplating.  Would the reward of Cid accepting the kid outweigh the risk of her turning him in to the Empire?  Tech did have a point, your presence would make things go smoother- but if Cid didn’t care about that point?  What then?  Would they be able to escape the Empire, find a new place to settle down- there was bound to be some planet that was safe- but would they find it before the Empire found them?

They could keep you holed up in the ship for a while, but sooner or later, Cid would find out.  And once she found out, that could damage their… relationship, so to speak.  Assuming she wouldn’t tell the Empire immediately, anyway.  So that wouldn’t work either.  There was no good solution, and everyone knew it.  Finally, Hunter spoke up- “Wrecker, Omega, you two stay with (Y/N) and help him with anything- food, water, applying new bandages.  You get the idea.  Echo, you're with me- we’ll get anything we’d need for a long-term stay on the ship; med kits, food, supplies, whatever.  Tech, make sure the ship has enough fuel, and make any necessary fixes.  Don’t let anyone else know.  After you're done, I’ll tell Cid about… the kid.  We’ll see where it goes from there.”

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

The Marauder drifted down, landing neatly in the center of the dock.  Tech quickly pulled out his data-pad, scanning for any previously unnoticed internal damage.  Luckily, the report came back negative- as he had guessed, there was no new damage.  Satisfied, he checked the Marauder’s current fuel level, so he’d know when to stop filling.  Tech, Echo, and Hunter exited the Marauder, swiftly closing and securely locking the ramp behind them.

The innards of the Marauder were quiet, Omega and Wrecker not really knowing what to do.  They both sat on the bunk opposite you, staring, just in case you’d wake up and need something.  Wrecker had rations and a water canteen to his left, while Omega had fresh bandages and bacta-spray to her right.  “Uhhh…” Wrecker broke the silence, glancing down at Omega, “do we just… wait for him to wake up?  It feels weird, just staring.”

“I don’t know… on Kamino, we would usually wait, but this is nothing like injured clones on Kamino.”  She sighed, wringing her hands together.  “I just…feel so bad.  I mean, our home was destroyed, but at least we have each other.  (Y/N) doesn’t have anyone, and he’s been alone on that ship since the Empire took over.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like…” 

“Well, at least we found him before the Empire did, and any situation we’re in will probably be better than Bracca.  Plus, he’s probably dead to the Empire, so they won’t be after him!”  Wrecker responded, finding the silver lining.  He and Omega looked at eachother, smiling.  It felt good to help people.

On cue, the blankets opposite the pair began shuffling, a long groan sounding out through the metal walls of the Marauder.  You turned over, eyes droopy and your Padawan braid/beads hanging by the corner of your mouth, covered in drool.  Slowly, you put your weight onto a hand and pushed yourself up, leaning against the back wall of the bunk.  Your head lolled back, another sigh escaping.  Everything hurts.  “Good morning!  Er, afternoon!  You slept forever, little Jedi!” Wrecker enthusiastically shouted, causing you to immediately sit up straight, hand shooting down to your waist for the familiar feeling of your lightsaber, only to be met with nothing.  Kriff.

Wrecker immediately sensed your panic, and put his hands up in an attempt of looking unhostile.  “Don’t worry, you're safe!  We’ve had our heads cut into, so we won’t be doing any of that Order 66 stuff!”  All you could do was stare, a comically surprised expression etched across your face.  He had an interesting way of wording things.

Wrecker stood up and handed you the canteen and ration bad.  “Here, rations and water!  They’re not the best, and we can pick up some better food soon, but I bet you're starved!”  And you were.  True, the mantell mix Omega had gifted you was delicious, but after so long of never having a proper meal, you certainly wouldn’t refuse any more food or water.

“Thank you…”  You glanced down after taking the food, quietly chewing on the ration bar, occasionally taking sips from the canteen.  You were never good socially at the Temple, and you certainly weren't any better at the moment.  Omega asked you some more questions; if there was any pain, did you bleed through any bandages, and such.  You responded in short answers, so quiet she was struggling to pick up what was said.  Eventually, she deemed you healthy- or, at least, as healthy as you could be, given the circumstances.  She stayed with you, telling stories about Kamino and the few trips she’s had away from it.  Mainly, though, she talked about her brothers.

After Maker knows how long, the Marauder’s ramp opened, Tech, Echo, and Hunter coming in, one by one.  Tech was lugging fuel, and the other two held general equipment, food, med-kits, and more.  While Tech didn’t pay as much mind to your waking, Echo and Hunter sure did- Echo more so.

After setting down the cargo, he practically spritened to the bunk you were on, crouching down on one knee and using his scomp-link to lift up your jaw, and do other inspections.  “You need a shower- desperately.  And new clothes, these are completely ruined!  Our old room is nothing compared to this!  Even Fives smelled better!  And you need some proper nourishment- I know how I felt after being in that stasis chamber for so long.  And mantell mix is not nourishment, no matter what Wrecker and Omega tell you, got that?”  He finished his spiel, pointing his scomp-link at you.  “Iba’ oskik’la…”

* (“what a mess” in mando’a)

“Yeah, I think he’s got it, Echo,” Hunter chimed in, smiling.  “C’mon, kid.  I need you to meet someone.  She used to work with the Jedi, so I don’t think she’d do anything.  But, just in case, we have everything ready to go.  And if all goes well, ”  You swallowed, a large lump forming in your throat.  You really hoped she wouldn’t do anything bad- you were already enough of a burden.  You and Hunter walked down the ramp, Omega gleefully waving goodbye.

He could hear your heartbeat, your anxiety- but he didn’t know much on how to help, given the circumstances.  Kriff, you didn't know about the chips until they found you, and he couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like.  When Wrecker had been affected and tried to kill everyone, at least they all knew it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t betrayed them, and that he would never try to do that when he was in control.  But you had no clue about any of that.  You thought all the clones who were your friends, or even just ones you were polite with for the sake of being a good person, had all wanted to kill you, and all the other Jedi.  You had thought that for months.  Cursing yourself, wondering why, and if there was anything you could have done differently to prevent it.  And now, irony at its best, you had been rescued by clones, coming to remove their chips.

“We’re on Ord Mantell, by the way… don’t know if anyone told you.  Ever been?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  You shook your head, eyes darting from sign to sign, stall to stall.  “Most planets I’ve been on, except for Coruscant, were just… military occupations, occasionally the natural landscape of Separatists planets.  Never got to travel outside of that,” you said, still taking in all the colorful decor and people of the city.  “I mean, you know what that’s like, obviously- being a clone and all, you went to the same type of planets I did.  I think, at least.”

Hunter nodded his head in confirmation, not really sure where to go from there.  What you said was pretty accurate, but he felt like he shouldn’t talk about the war much.  And in any case, they were approaching Cid’s.

You and Hunter trotted down the steps, the automatic door sliding open.  Cid’s bar was empty, spare for an Ithorian and Weequay who were bickering over who knows what, and obviously, Cid herself.  You placed yourself behind Hunter, something you would do with your Master during the war to avoid any interaction with… anyone.  Slicing droids was easy, making conversation with soldiers was not.

You slowly glanced around the parlor, taking in anything that could be a trap, or could help you escape if this ‘Cid’ decided she didn’t want a padawan on her doorstop.  Hunter called out for Cid, and the distant sound of claws tapping against the cold, hard floor echoed out.  Emerging from the back rooms was a rather short female trandoshan, a cane gripped in her three claws.

Her eyes went back and forth between your semi-hidden figure and Hunter.  “Where’s the rest of ya?  And who’s that kid in the terrible robes?  They stink.”  There was an obvious scowl on her face, her left brown rose in an annoyed and questioning manner.

Hunter took a deep breath, and then- “He’s… a Padawan.”  Cid’s brows rose, and then lowered into a vicious scowl.  “Before you say anything- hear me out.  He was trapped at Bracca, and the scavengers didn’t know- Tech checked the Empire’s wanted, and he’s dead to them.  The Empire won’t come here, and it’s not like anyone on the street will know- he’s just a padawan.  Not a full-on Jedi, not a general.  But, he can still help.  Even without using the Force to push and pull, he can still sense danger and… stuff.”  Hunter wasn’t really sure how the Force worked.  But he knew it was useful.  Before Cid could rebuttal, he continued.  “And imagine how helpful a padawan would be in making sure your deals go right!  Being able to sense a bad deal, or if someone unwelcome is coming.  And some of them can do mind tricks.  He’ll be very useful to you- just let him stay with us.”

Cid looking down, in thought, a scowl etched on her face.  Finally, she sighed.  “Fine!  But if the Empire comes knocking, I’m not keeping his hide a secret.  Too much heat.”  She walked away, already planning what to do with you.

Hunter looked back, smiling.  You tried your best to smile, but you knew full well it looked incredibly awkward and forced.  Not that you weren’t happy, by any means.  You just weren’t prepared, and he knew that.  Hunter placed a hand on your shoulder, attempting to provide comfort.  And it worked.  For the first time in months, despite the constant dread of what was to come, everything seemed to be going right.  You could stay with them, and they could stay with Cid.

“Let’s go get you some proper fitting, and smelling clothes, yeah?  Echo wasn’t wrong when he said it was worse than our old barracks.”  Your smile shifted to a natural one, not forced or awkward.  You certainly didn’t think you’d ever see a clone again; and it certainly wouldn’t be a happy experience, but it seemed like this batch was going to be the best thing to happen in a while.

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood (6) - the trouble was always here - part two

pairing: biker!roman reigns , biker!cody rhodes (mentioned) warning: mentions of violence and explicit descriptions of blood. dialogue and descriptions pertaining to guns. roman talk to someone without being a jerk challenge. slight non-con moment but turns consensual quickly (its a kiss)! authors note: if ya'll ever watch sons of anarchy... you’ll know, im stealing little pieces of plot lmaooooooooo. imma give yall a spicy little flashback after this, i promise. will also attempt to not make the following chapters as long. just so that they remain relatively digestible. i'm working on being more precise with words. all the medical stuff in this chapter is half done research and my own brain. this chapter picks up where i left off in chapter 5. ALSO… if you want or dont want tags on this fic let me know! word count: 3k tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @sortudademais @gg-trini @southerngirl41 @2-muchsauce

-wednesday night. the first week in june-

that marriage of ignorance and bliss did not last long. having to suffer as a lone soldier amidst silent dinner table battles. displeasured dispositions and their eyes performing like the greatly sharpened edge of well smithed daggers. and then came compromise, toiling through the thick of it to wave it's white flag. a surrender of a promise. your mother and fathers union holding as much sanctity as a soon to die vehicle's tank, holding its last dregs of oil but whose fuel gauge reads empty. running still, a quick speed into the darkness, wheels tired and the road too coarse to bare. an abrupt end of the engine as it slips against the asphalt at full speed. a collision terribly par for the course. their rings fettered to their fingers, pretty diamond but a prison, making forever impressions upon the skin. that marriage of ignorance and bliss did not last long. dying with the useless wear of wedding rings, and redeclaring itself with the overwear of leather kuttes. 

because there was more to the life than just that simple enthusiasm for motorcycles. your father transforming before the eyes. leather slipping over his shoulders, not so dissimilar to the tough metal, shrilly chime of chainmail. custom rings taking their homes over the marred skin of his knuckles. fingers worn and always just barely healed. scarred from one brutal splitting open after another. his eyes working to harden. the keys to his bike clutched in hand. 

"should i be worried?", your mother asking right on time. examining his pace. the work in and change over of his demeanor. 

and he never answered. never dignifying her question enough to speak to it. because then the trouble would be true, so much so that it would live, breathing well to make room in their home. no. KG, your father, only ever lingered by the door, a slip in of hesitation before he turned to kiss your mother gracefully. the small appearance of a forever ago passion. an i love you without the weight of words. and then he went, heavy steps leading out the door. 

so its almost second nature. those faithful coming together of words. cody slipping on his leather near the door. shoulders squaring as the material adjusts to his body. demeanor unsoftened. the ease of the words as they leave you filling your stomach with a burdening weight. memory working tedious and so terribly true. 

"cody, should i be worried?" 

he sighs. cold blue eyes hesitating enough to take the time to commit your face to memory. his palm warm as it cradles your cheek. kissing you firmly before he leaves. 

-early friday morning. first week in june-

there was, is, and will never be a time too early or too late for violence. for blood and that faithful nerve warp of adrenaline. and maybe that's why the hospital is so easy. old, early moments in your youth, piercing your fathers skin with a needle, sewing together split skin as he washed his tongue with the burn of his favorite liquor. a warmth in his belly till the pain from the prick of your fixing turned numb. a simple pressure in the skin there at his arm, turning inevitably, to pressure in his leg, a slit at his thigh from a brawl with which he gave no further information. bruises and gashes and deep cuts to him, more by the day, by the year. near quiet grunts and the emptiness of the house loud enough to swallow you both whole. cleaning his marred skin and bandaging the area's as best you could. the slow to ease push and pull of his breaths. his hands smelling like iron as he cradled your face, mouth kissing your forehead. "thank you", but a whisper, before falling into sleep. 

maybe that's why the hospital is so easy. the color of blood and caked earth, the silver of knuckle rings and the black of over worn leather more familiar than summer green trees. 

text message | cody r: in an emergency. need your help. 

it shouldn't come as a surprise, but the sudden rush takes you all the same. a deep plunge of the heart in your chest, something odd creeping beneath the skin and fevered steps. making to call cody quickly. a ring, and then a second, before he's answering. breaths labored some as he goes. "can't say much about it but it's medical. how soon can you get to the clubhouse?" 

you assess the long hallway. the trauma unit, quiet. a squeak in your sneakers that makes you cringe as you move to collect things. only minutes from the end of your shift. "uhm, in like twenty minutes". a series of grunts and yells that indicate the messiness of a situation he's all to willing to abruptly rope you into. "cody what's going on?"

he sighs. his patience a thinning thread. "what did i say before about becoming an accessory?" 

"you gotta give me something", you stress. continuing an awfully secretive journey to where you could gather some other helpful supplies. "i can't just show up not knowing what for". 

"think the worst". 

"that doesn't help-"

the call dropping on his end. the angst sticking to your skin making room for an easy to settle in frustration. like you were an early twenty something again. attempting too diligently to remedy that divorce of ignorance and bliss. a tedious washing away and stitching together, performing so well now that the pungent smell of iron threatens to stain your skin again. and here does the soldier pay the price for wielding a double edged sword. for pensacola was home, is home, and forever will be home, the desire to return running too wild beneath the skin not to act on it. but there are things here. vicious rumblings above sunburned asphalt and the bitter steeping of blood between the cracks. the dross and the dregs that stick so loyally to the air and the skin just after a brutish performance of chaos too commonplace to live without it.

trouble taking up permanent residence, riding in over the clouds and rolling in with the heat. 

and the clubhouse looks haunted amidst the beginnings of the friday summer sunrise. the dark colored build of it dreary against the beauty of the sky. the heat yet to reach its full potential but your scrubs and the exhaustion of a twelve hour shift do all too well of making you live with that thin sheen of sweat breaking over your cheeks. your car parked not too far from the clubs neat line of stationed bikes. true in how they've always done well to remind you of the clubs presence. after so long, living here and far away, that grimy power behind the roar of an engine, ever inescapable. 

the clubhouse doors swing open as you make to leave your car. a small bag of supplies in hand as you rush up. cody's hand slipping at the low end of your back to guide you in. a small "thank you", leaving him breathy as you make way to pass through the double doors of the "church". a room that never seems to lose its luster from the looks of it. the sanctity of their meetings as important as the shine of a new chrome fender finish. men and their worried eyes flitting over your entrance as you approach the church table. seth laid out face down, with his pants at his ankles. his skin wet with sweat and an awful paleness. bloody cloths surrounding him and randy's finger lodged in where all the blood could possibly be spewing from. a small metal tin cup resting in the corner, holding the whole of a bullet. 

dean taps seth's cheek. waking him up a little less than tenderly. "look alive sweetheart, the doctor is here to see you". 

"nurse", you correct, to which dean just winks. 

cody and a host of club members file out through the double doors much to your pleasure. 

initial shock of your current state of affairs rolling off your shoulders as you settle into the routine of caring for the wound. gloves slipping on before you're tossing the box to dean. his take up of them swift and unquestioning. because it was never unusual to spend a night—especially in their youth—caring for cuts and bruises and wounds, before turning to do the same for another. a task as regular as breathing air. 

seth groans. the drawl of it stressing the pain in his leg. "i don't know if you've noticed but i went to some extreme lengths to see you", he jokes. his little laugh coarse and overworked by the weariness of getting shot. 

you laugh. an attempt to break the over work of tension in the air. "what an interesting way of saying you love me seth". sliding up to stand next to randy. his demeanor as quiet now as it was during richie's funeral. 

you look to dean. "once randy removes his finger, you're gonna help me pack the wound, and then i want you to keep pressure on it till i'm ready to wrap it". 

"you know what you're doing?", randy asks. the dark color of his eyes disrupted with little slivers of worry. 

"no randy, i just wear the scrubs for fun". peering up at the hard set of his face. older now but his visage still holding that silent menace to it.  

"can we banter when seth isn't bleeding out by the pint?", dean asks. so obviously done with the whole situation. 

"on my three", you start. the both of them coming to a shared focus. "one...two...three". 

thick blood springs upward, randy's finger dislodging quick. dean rushes in with your guidance, packing the wound as instructed. your hand taking the reins of the procedure as you allow dean a moment of reprieve. the little levee of seth's composure rupturing as his body goes taut, his mouth loose and lax as he curses his fill into the shined up wood of the church table. groaning wearily as dean holds the pressure against his legs, randy lifting it casually, allowing you to wrap the middle of his leg with a fresh dressing. a dead silent relief settling the room then after, before you're moving again. running on the extra dose of adrenaline. 

you discard your gloves, peeling them off your fingers. picking through your bag to give dean a bottle of pills. "vancomycin, it's an antibiotic", you start. "give him two now and another two later tonight. keep going with that dosage for no less than a week". 

"our lovely little savior". dean's boots heavy as he closes the distance to kiss your forehead. "thank you. go get cleaned up". 

randy gives a quieter acknowledgement. a simple nod of appreciation that does you just fine. the double doors of the church room creaky as they swing with your exit. all the worried faces you'd met upon your arrival, taking up every inch of the clubhouse. their bodies drowsy and torn through by the chaos of an oh so terrible possibility.

your feet mindless as they walk down the infamous hallway gallery of framed photos. your last walk through of the area filled with a particularly horrible play of strife. twisting the knob of one of many of the little dormitory rooms to access it's bathroom. a deep breath releasing as you make to wash your hands, a slow thorough trail up over your arms to rid your skin of seth's soon to dry blood. your scrubs somewhat ruined and your shoes showcasing nasty little streaks of red. 

but it is only exhaustion that takes you so brazenly. a sleepy sinking feeling in the body and nothing else. hands used to providing all the remedy's it can. 

well maybe not nothing else. a fast to slip in weariness amidst the quiet. because he couldn't be too far away, lurking to siphon what he could again of the air about you in a means of suffocation. that faithful ability once upon a time, a favorite of yours for how sweetly it sought to consume you, now possessing a quality that unfurls something disdainful in your belly. a prick of a man seemingly beyond reproach, what with his positioning among all the others. surely it was never your simple exit making him this mountain of hubris, that streak of his character impossible to climb and overcome for the sake of reasoning with him. or even for the lesser sake of some cordiality. it was so obviously everything else—the grime and the chaos—giving the once duller edge of his pride a sharper corner. enough to will him into an endless keep of a grudge. 

heavy thudding steps strip you clean of wandering anymore into thought. it seems even thinking of the devil causes him to appear. his disposition reminiscent of some weeks ago. shoulders squared and seeming too tall for you now to bare without feeling small. and he says nothing, attempting to take his kutte off without the inconvenience of pain but he grunts regardless. grimacing as he rids himself of his shirt as well. 

a gash running against his naked arm, almost like it's purposefully found a heap of muscle to tear into. wanting to humble the strength of him. blood caked and running down tawny skin. 

"i got grazed". 

voice tired but oddly delicate. like the weariness of it is making him just that more fragile. 

you point to the bathroom, eyes never really having the courage to part from him. "sit over there". 

and your feet rush. tunnel visioned as they make to gather whats left of your little collection of supplies. fingers feeling less sure, and your body teeming with something akin to an unworkable angst. a realization long ago understood, and buried for the sake of a then wanted peace, unearthing itself to bring about a renewed sense of understanding. for he has always been the manifestation of this double edged sword. of home and of violence. wielding itself always but never one without the other. the slip of his skin over familiar in its warmth. doing your resolve the greatest amounts of violence as you clean his wound tenderly. the double edge of him piercing so well that you feel the damning effects. his eyes sharp, cutting over your face in a silent means to examine. like the appraisal of a curious stranger attempting to settle within themselves the validity of your existence. 

the soft tender pads of your fingers remember him well. gloves and all. slight throbs that liven the nerves. 

"you came straight from work", more like a statement than a question. 

"i did". 

he flinches. his arm flexing as he bares the pain. "thank you for being here", he gives. “for seth", like a thankfulness that includes him would hurt his pride too much to be made known. 

"i'm sure that took a lot to say", you joke. feeling light in your head. drained of the will to keep up a proper guard. "you’re welcome though". 

a hum of an acknowledgment is the only thing he gives you. and in an effort to savor the easy going nature of the moment you keep yourself occupied with dressing the wound splitting his skin open. your work of caring for it doing well enough that the bleeding has stopped. memory faithful as it nags, the wound of a forever ago accident pulsing to life about your hand. the scars there still, though faded, serving as a reminder of the former things. the heat of him, then, different as it sought to consume. brazen in how it dared to bring about affection. not like now, this flame threatening to flare, to show the lengths and widths of its destruction. 

you finish. gloves in the waste basket. making tedious work of washing your hands. to rid the skin of such an indicative sensation. 

his body does well in blocking the bathroom door. the whole of him bigger than the last time you saw him. scrutiny set some in his gaze. trailing over the ink that lays permanent at your neck. 

"you still have it"

"it's a tattoo". feigning nonchalance as you dry your hands. "you never really plan to get rid of them". 

he smiles mirthless. "well y'know, i figured a cover up, for you, would be worth the pain". 

as in, forgetting him would be worth the pain. which couldn't be more further from the truth. 

"and here i am doing a nice thing", laughing tired. "still gettin hit with the bitterness", a slow easy step that leads you closer to him. the own brazen make of your actions suffering you to fall into the scent of him. the note of it strong even as it lives amidst the pungency of blood. "you got some audacity too though, considering i could've half assed that clean up enough for a little infection to settle in". 

"but you didn't".

"and why do you think so?" 

creaks against the floor. the weird pitch of it roughing up against your bones. his body closer, forcing your back against the wall. his thumb reaching to graze against the ink tattoo at your neck. pulse thrumming harshly at the play of his touch. 

body outdone by history. 

and the way he holds you here, cradling your neck just at your nape. keeping you where he wants you to be. his eyes falling over slowly—at your nose and your cheeks and your lips—lingering as if he's gone down the path of a deep remembering. 

"for the same reason you still got the ink". 

unable to ever let yourself part with it, with the history staining your skin. the prick of a needle and the pain of it made simple for a full and the most earnest performance of devotion. your breaths shallow, overwhelmed by the thought and the domineer of him. 

his thumb running to sweep at your skin. hot with an intention you can't place. 

you make to warn him. “roman-”

but his tongue is quick, works with a faraway familiar passion as it curls between the soft seam of your lips. exhaustion and adrenaline, an effortful pair as they go about the task of stripping away your resolve. a return of this sudden fever of a feeling as your tongue makes to snake against his. lapping lazily, a mindless seduction as you fall into old ways. his throat groaning, surely taken by his own bout of reminiscence. nails racking dull over his naked skin, over the taut muscle at his belly. his palms cradling your face to deepen his kiss in spite of the pain. leaving you little room to breathe, his body fastening you harshly to the bathroom wall. making to suffocate you with the flick of his tongue and the fire of his touch. 

his teeth prick you mean, biting into the supple flesh of your lip. suckling the pain with the tender pull of his mouth. 

the harshness of it causing a whimper to break. instinct taking hold. subdued in an instant. 

and it is only when he breaks for breath that you remember where you are. pushing at his tired body enough for a full separation. 

you leave saying nothing. out of the bedroom, down the hallway and through the clubhouse doors. letting the silence of it speak for you. 

lol we might need a roman pov after this huh… smh

[icedmetaltea]

While all these ai shenanigans are going on I thought it'd be a good time to remind ya'll of a couple stuff:

. The ai is not real

. It might feel real at times, eerily so, but that's because it was quite literally programmed to *sound* as real as possible

. If you fiddle with the script even a tad it will sound completely different, this is because it bases its responses off that and learned interactions through deep learning. It is merely mimicking the way people interact with each other because it is programmed to do that

. If you suffer from any sort of mental health issue involving derealization, delusions, disassociation (yep that's a lotta D's) or ANYTHING which affects your ability to tell fiction from reality, I suggest you avoid using the ai. I know playing with an ai is fun but it's not worth risking your mental health

. You cannot make the ai sad, angry, or anything else. It's. Not. Real. Again, everything it says is based off deep learning

. If you're under the age of 16, don't use it. There's a rule for 16+ in place for a reason... the scenarios can get *really* violent, including drug use, torture, death, etc. In fact, no matter how old you are, if these things greatly disturb you I suggest avoiding it entirely

. Be responsible for your own experience. If fiction starts to bleed into reality, step away and spend some time with loved ones. Go outside and get some fresh air. Reconnect with the real world.

. If you cannot go back to reality after an ai interaction, like if you get lasting emotional/mental effects from it, you need to take time away or give it up. Period.

. As ai stuff become more advanced in the future through better programming and deep learning, we need to understand now more than ever our limits.

. No matter how real it seems, it's not. Talk to irl people, get away from the internet, it's gonna be okay

This is coming from someone who used to have real bad psychosis, aka a condition in which you can't tell what's reality from what's not. I know for a fact it can fuck you up, so pls pls plssss take care of yourself. I love you guys and want ya'll to be okay

[seashells-and-songs]

if ya'll could send up some prayers, good vibes, good energy, whatever you can my way that would be so greatly appreciated.

ive been having a rough time lately with my mental and physical health and its just taking a toll on me. i had to quit one of my jobs (which was for the best but i still feel bad) and everything is just kind of rough rn. i feel very disconnected from my dieties too and its just been so difficult.

thank you loves <3

[ask-the-four-lords]

Hellooo, missed me?

To Lady Beneviento and Lady Angie, *pushes over a whole shipping crate of what seems to be pasta ingredients and weapons mixed together* love ya'll, hope Lady Angie wins the elections.

To Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughter Lady Daniela, do you both have a favourite type of literature genre? And whats your favourite musical instrument?

For me, I love gothic fiction and dark romanticism like Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte and my favourite instrument is the electric guitar i got mine for 568.05 Lei 6078php plus 1k god why was i born in poverty for shipping.

-With lots of love, pasta anon <333

P.S. Donna I hope you learn to love yourself a little more, just know that you are very much loved by others :((

Donna Beneviento: *Slowly picks through the ingredients* Angie... Please calm down... *Angie jumps into the crates, drowning in the armaments*

Angie Beneviento: I can and will win this fucking election, I will become a god!

Daniela Dimitrescu: My favorite genre of literature *whimsical* is romance. *Lovesick* I hope I can find someone like all the characters in my books someday. I don't really play music but Bela likes the violin and Cassandra likes the electric guitar too, she's been really into rock since Uncle Heisenberg introduced her to Metallica.

Alcina Dimitrescu: I greatly enjoy classic literature, and I must say you have excellent taste, Wuthering Heights is my second favorite novel, only defeated by The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. For instruments I enjoy all components of the brass section of a standard big band, still for music, I'll always value my own voice above all. (Great book choice btw, top 5 for me, respect)

Donna Beneviento: *Forlorn* I wish I could feel like that about myself... Thank you... For caring... I never thought anyone would.

[runes-ended-my-marriage]

I've reread The Forbidden Game several times throughout my teen and young adult years, both in novel form and audiobook, and it's never explicitly said that Julian is older, the same age, or younger than Jenny. However, while scrolling through LJ Smith's official website, I found this tidbit in her summary of the last book in the trilogy, The Kill:

"Child-Julian"

I think his character would've benefited greatly had this been explicitly stated in the book. Otherwise, we're left to assume that Julian's fascination with Jenny mimics other love interests in LJ's works, specifically the much older, Civil-War era Stefon and Damian Salvatore in TVD. I've seen people critique Julian for being fixated on a child while he was presumably a fully-fledged mature Shadowman, but this is not the case.

He was, in a way, a young child rescued by Jenny when she opened the closet door all those years ago; no fucking wonder he fell in love at first sight. He's deep in puppy love.

I could write more, lmk if ya'll want an essay lol

[h3lfaerie]

If you're under 18 and reading Path of Alfheim.

Please keep in mind that Path of Alfheim is very much MDNI. I've put up all the necessary warnings.

It's an explicit story that contains horror, gore, tragedy, sex, death and I'm fairly certain the great majority of you love it all the more for that, however-

While the fic is easily accessible on AO3 and I can't stop anyone from reading it, please keep in mind that if you choose to interact with me (be it to share your art, discuss the story or to send me an ask) and I have a reason to believe you're a minor, I am generally not going to feel very comfortable talking with you, and I will likely choose not to full-stop.

For nothing other than the fact that my fanfiction is really not something that you should be reading if you're under 18, even if I greatly appreciate the support.

With that said, I'm fully conscious of the fact that I can't tell you what to do, I'm just some rando on the internet.

And I used to read explicit shit too.

But as of now I'm a grown ass adult (a child with a drinking permit at the ripe age of 23 but that's besides the point), I'd feel highly uncomfortable discussing such graphic themes with someone who's underage. And by extension, if you're a minor, I can't and won't share any art or asks from you, because I can't ethically do so without "encouraging you" to read the fic. If PoA was a book it would come with a list of content warnings, an 18+ sticker and a rightful place in the Dark Fantasy corner.

And trust me, I know ya'll read that stuff anyway, like I said I did too, I'm not holier than thou.

You do what you want.

The point is that if I engage with anyone under 18 over this project, as an adult, I'm basically putting said highly-explicit-hypothetical-book in the hands of a minor and saying "Go read it!"... It's grotesque.

I'm not doing it.

Please respect my boundaries. If you're a minor, I am not going to interact with you and I ask that you don't reach out to me either.

I do not mean offense, I do not mean disrespect, and I hope that in case you find yourself reading this and you're under 18, that you don't take this personally. It is not ❤️‍🩹

I simply want to remain respectful and safe with my audience.

[ask-overwatch-heroes]

Hey, could any of ya'll say trans rights? Pretty please!!!!

OP: So, I may have gone a little ham on this one. Enjoy.

D.Va: Trans rights!!! 🏳️‍⚧️ 🏳️‍⚧️

Doomfist: Humans should stop concerning themselves with such petty squabbles.

Junker Queen: I don't give a shit what ya' damn pronouns are! I just wanna fight!

Mauga: Sure, I'll probably kill you! But, I'll respect your gender while doing it!

Orisa: Human rights are for everyone. No exceptions!

Ramattra: Once all omnics are free, we will abolish such meaningless concepts as 'gender!'

Reinhardt: TRANS RIGHTS, YEAH!!!!!

Roadhog: ... Trans... rights!

Sigma: Everything in our universe is constructed not of binaries, but of spectrums.

Winston: Of course! Trans rights are human rights!

Wrecking Ball: *Hamster Noises* (Fuck gender)!

Zarya: Trans rights for all!

Ashe: I don't care what you are, get to work!

Bastion: Taa Riii (Trans Rights)!

Cassidy: Hell yeah, trans rights!

Echo: Life is too complex to fit perfectly within such restrictive boxes.

Genji: I will support you all, no matter what.

Hanzo: Those who would say otherwise are pathetic fools!

Junkrat: What's trans? It sounds cool!

Mei: You should always be yourself. No matter what other people say.

Pharah: Fuck yeah! Trans rights!

Reaper: No!

Soldier 76: Reyes...

Reaper: Fine!

...Trans rights.

Sojourn: Thank you, Reaper. Trans rights!

Soldier 76: I may not understand all the different concepts, or always get the pronouns right, but I support you.

Sombra: Hey! I hacked this account's banner to be a trans flag!

Symmetra: Why would anyone say otherwise?

Torbjörn: Trans women are women! Trans men are men! It's not that hard to understand.

Tracer: Heck yeah, trans rights!

Widowmaker: Be whatever you want. I don't care.

Ana: Don't worry, grandma Ana supports you.

Baptiste: Live and let live. That's what I've always said.

Brigitte: If anyone tries to say anything else, I'll show 'em what's what!

Illari: Within my culture, while gender roles exist, it was very common for people to subvert them in many ways. We had no such thing as 'trans' people, but we had those who would fit the same classification.

Kiriko: Kaze says trans rights, too!

Lifeweaver: Trans people deserve respect and dignity.

Lúcio: Hell yeah, I love all my trans homies.

Mercy: Trans rights, that's what the science says.

Moira: The potential for human progress has been heald back greatly by restricting ourselves by such unnecessary parameters.

Zenyatta: The concept of gender is an archaic system that we must all work to grow beyond.

[hiddenlife-manager]

Who I write for and what I write

Hello, all of you! I am finally revamping this old post of mine. Mainly because I have grown as a writer and it is time I expanded my writing options. I have grown as a writer and am proud of where I am. Some of my old fanfictions weren’t the best, but we all gained experience. 

So before I start, please enjoy it all. I don’t tolerate hate speech, and I do not tolerate minors reading my stories. I am purely an adult content type of writer. It is what I specialize in, and I request that no minors interact with my account. 

Sit back and relax while you read this to see what I write and how far I am willing to go. But I sometimes don’t update this, so ask if I am a part of a fandom or not. I most likely am! So if you are free, check out the About Me page to get to know your writer!

What I Write

I take mostly X readers (I am down for any gender; I am a cis female with female pronouns, so I write mainly for fem readers but am willing to do more).

I mainly write NSFW and enjoy writing it the most!

I write AU (any type really; I love tropes, so AU helps).

Head Cannons (I started off as a Head Cannons writer and haven't touched one of these in some time.)

Fandoms I Write For

One Piece

SK8 the Infinity

Resident Evil

Zelda

My Hero Academia

High Rise Invasion

Demon Slayer

Assassin’s Creed

Jujutsu Kaisen

Kuroko No Basket

Haikyuu

Obey Me (Game)

Mystic Messenger

Hunter x Hunter

Black Butler

Genshin Impact

How to Keep a Mummy

Naruto

Bungou Stray Dogs

Attack On Titan

Assassination Classroom

Death Note

Sailor Moon

Castlevania

Tokyo Revengers

Fire Force

Cowboy Bebop

Hellsing

Real Life Fandoms I Write For

Formula 1

Soccer (La Liga and Premier League and World Cup)

I enjoy greatly writing, and it is a hobby. I understand you may request it, but there is no guarantee I will write since I do have a job. I just entered a long, four-year program for my career and will have to focus on that. I must state that as well. I won't write for minor characters unless they are older. So please, when you ask for a minor character, specify that they are aged up in this scenario, or I will finally ignore it. 

Grab a cup of tea and read my fics, ya'll, and thank you so much for the support. I cannot believe I have such an amazing fanbase for my writing, and I love you all for that. 

[mrpristineblade]

Hey dude.

How's the Little Voices fic?

I've been following that fic through your reblogs and I'm loving it

Oh, hey there!

If what you're asking about how I'm enjoying them, then the answer is immensely. @remaking-machine really knows how to write all of these voices in such charming ways and I especially like how even outside the cabins, they take the effort to let us read the already freed voices slowly develop their roles in the group and grow through their dynamics with eachother.

Stubborn is the best example of this. He's usually just written as the muscle of the group because he isn't given important roles a lot of the time (probably due to favoritism towards other voices, let's be honest). But here? He has a truly useful goal to strive for: keeping Hero and the others intact. He gets to show how extremely he cares and fights for others when he's keen to keep them alive. I could go through the other voices like this as well, but you get the idea I think.

Plus, the concepts for their cabin prisons are so well-thought out! They are always either mix-mashes of several canon cabins that fit with the voice's personal struggles or they're an adjusted version of one canon cabin that is specifically designed to greatly work against the voice.

All I'm missing now is a chapter with a certain cabin made of sharp materials where a certain prisoner is in desperate need of assistance to turn his luck around I mean, whaaat? 😅👉👈

Anyways, real good stuff! Would recommend to anyone who hasn't read it yet. Also, I hope you are following the creator's tumblr as well. They have the most whimsical and creative voice designs and draw some really lovely and funny stuff of them that I think ya'll will really like!

[meatriarch]

MEATRIARCH OVERVIEW.

m'kay so -- mostly putting this together as both a quick look for new faces & a lil' refresher for those who've been following for a while but also as a general overview on not just how i run things but also on my muses, their portrayals, some blog updates, and so on! ♡ meant for clarity & hopefully ensure there's no confusion about certain things i may mention on the dash but always feel free to shoot me a message / ask for anything further! ♡

MARIA AURORA FLORES.

starting off with my main girl, my pride & joy, my sunshine incarnate. i write maria as someone very warm & with a whole mess of love to shower on those she cares about. she is achingly sweet, doting, affectionate; she adores her friends, adores her mama & sister, has a complicated relationship with her father. i've done quite a bit to flesh her out beyond what gun's put out for her in the slightest & i love where she's grown over the months since adding her onto the roster. she is my main / primary muse -- so know i constantly yap and ramble about her, i have headcanons and lore posts sprinkled all over the blog & the archived blog. i love & adore her as a muse and she's become both incredibly special to me & easily one of my absolute favorite characters to write as. that being said, with how much i've added to her, i view my portrayal of her as more oc at this point than a character of gun -- unfridged my girl, yanked her away from them and took off with her lmao alot of what i've built with her was both greatly helped by the dynamics weaved together with my affiliates / mains' portrayals which i'll get to later on ♡ but know some things may not carry over into interactions between my maria & any duplicates of my affiliates' muses!

ANA FLORES.

i haven't gone through much writing for ana yet -- but know when i do speak of ana in a general sense on here? i am specifically referring to my own ana & my personal flores' family lore! if i refer to other ana's in future posts i'll most likely note so either by, for example, ' renee's ana ' or if its to that point in plotting, then with a dynamics tag on the post! otherwise assume when i'm yapping about ana in general i'm referring to my own portrayal of her by default! c: ( note that all you cute ana mutuals are still more than welcome to interact with posts about her / her & maria / the flores' ♡ just something to keep in mind if i refer to her in a general sense in posts! )

DANNY ALEJO - OSORIO.

ya'll may know our just some guy danny by gun's canon of him -- danny gaines. the danny here however is technically my own portrayal of danny gaines that i developed before he was officially dropped & we got his last name. should i interact with others writing danny gaines? i'm completely gucci with considering my danny & gaines as entirely separate characters!

* correction : i now consider danny to be entirely severed from guns danny gaines and is, now, an oc fully. he is entirely his own character. otherwise, the speedrun of danny is as follows : danilo alejo-osorio is mexican-colombian, befriended maria in their early teens. he comes from a broken family with a very fractured & a.busive father, his mother returned to colombia and started another family there believing he'd have a better life staying in the states. he went through a very rough period hanging with a real shitty crowd of so-called friends, got into a shitton of fights, broke into homes and businesses with them, stole shit, broke shit, just in general not great influences. a break-in went wrong, his "friends" scattered, and he was arrested when the police showed up, and spent time in juvie for it. none of those friends ever came by. his father didn't, none of his family did. maria, her mother and ana, instead, were his constant visitors. and it was her coming to see him, her encouragement and push for him to do better is what finally made him realize he needed to turn his shit around. at the point of maria going missing & the house, danny's going to trade school by the southern coast for ship & underwater welding courses & training. he & maria are best friends. he is her ride, die, kill. gun noted once upon a time how strong dannys' devotion to her is -- my danny is very much devoted to her. he would kill for her without hesitation -- and not in his dire au's, even, but just in general. danny would do anything for those he cares about. any of the friendgroup.

THE FLORES FAMILY.

my personal take / lore is as follows basically : papa flores ( ramón ignacio ) & mama flores ( carmen ainara ) were long-term sweethearts whose marriage and little family seemed perfectly ideal. however, the closer that their eldest daughter, maria, got to her teen years, the sicker carmen started to become. she attempted to keep it under wraps, hush-hush from the girls' to not worry or scare them. but she was diagnosed with a lung disease ( p.ulmonary f.ibrosis fingerguns @ silver for same braincell lmao ) that is considered ( esp in the 70s likely ) to be terminal. while the girls' weren't aware of her being ill to that degree, ramon fully was. and the stress of coming to terms with his wife being sick and finding out that she may eventually pass due to it, so he claims, "caused" him to start an affair. carmen does find out, and ramon removes himself from the flores' family home to move in with his affair partner. maria, being forgiving and more gentle-hearted compared to ana, attempted to still paint him in a positive light so that ana wouldn't resent him. tried to give him the benefit of the doubt -- that he at least still did love them all. that he'd keep the promises to still be active in their lives, still show up when he said he would -- however, there's only so many excuses, so many promises broken, so many calls never ringing through, before that hope crumbles. ana would witness both her mother & maria deal with their fathers' heartbreak through closed bedroom doors, and it'd only make her despise him more for it. when maria later goes missing, ramon returns to try and help in whatever ways he can -- and ana is very unreceptive to him being there. he lost his chance in her eyes to play "dad" to them. and she makes it known clearly to him how much she resents him and reminds him he's got no place in their family, anymore. that he's there ONLY to help find maria and not to expect shit from any of them.

THE HEWITTS & THE SAWYERS.

by default, i say a giant fuck you to the difference in continuity's when it comes to the family! i write the hewitt's as an extension of the sawyer ( or, slaughter ) family tree. the hewitts & sawyers connected when luda mae married charlton hewitt sr. luda, in my personal canon, was born into the family through one of grandpa sawyers' many kids' he's taken in over his long-fuckin'-ass lifespan lmao alot of the family dynamics that are my canon here stem from lamb & i's back & forths. i find blending the various iterations of the family -- from originals to remakes etc -- as all just extended families to each other alot easier to work around and opens the door to more interactions with canons' from other versions of tcsm! c: i'm currently slow-piecing together a family tree of the hewitt-sawyers based on that blended concept. to the sawyers, luda is referred to by aunt or grandma ( sometimes ma luda, even ) and thomas is referred to as cousin tommy.

THOMAS & THE TITLE OF "L.EATHERFACE".

i was going to make this its own post but i'll add to this one instead. but with the idea of the hewitts & sawyers being just on massive family unit? of course there's the question of how the fuck do both thomas & bubba ( or other iterations of LF ) work then? i'd argue its primarily due to the fact that those who don't personally know them both don't know their actual names, and simply refer to them by the most notable feature -- the masks. with my thomas, yes, he does take faces of victims and he does wear them. however. thomas' skin condition -- flesh-eating disease / tumor growths on his face -- is why he wears his animal-leather half-mask. that half mask is his primary mask. he is almost always wearing that or varying versions of it. when thomas DOES skin someones' face to wear? it is almost always out of rage. hatred. it's done to intimidate. to unsettle. its from back in september but, one of my thomas' replies to kels notes this about thomas! the masks of both animal & human leather are still very much a part of thomas as i write him -- but, when it comes to the hewitt-sawyers being one family unit & thomas & bubba co-existing? "l.eatherface" becomes a title in a sense -- two giant motherfuckers who wear masks?? they get confused for one another. despite thomas being arguably much larger both being beefy & being 6'9 compared to bubba. they both don't really stray far from home. how often do outsiders get a chance to see them both separately let alone close to one another? likely not a common sight. it'd be very easy to spot one of them and then assume they are one in the same, honestly. that's how i go about things here, at least! it ties into more, again, of the back-&-forths lamb & i have minecrafted especially but, i'm all for altering that for specific interactions for those who don't want to meddle with all of that! (:

NANCY.

spooky momther will retain what her abilities have grown into by my personal headcanons across the board! however there are certain points to how i portray her that, from any posts about her i've made, are tied into lamb's johnny and so know that there will be differences in how she may be with other johnnys! i'm all ears to how different nancy & johnny's relationship can turn out! if theres anything i feel overlaps with other dynamics of theirs, i will let you know and we can work something else out c:

GENERAL PORTRAYAL NOTE.

mentioned it already but : all muses here are very heavily canon-divergent & built out from their canon lore by my own brainrot going wild with them all. with that in mind, i do just about consider each of my portrayals of these muses as my own oc's at this point with how much i've added onto them / built them up from literal nothing like in maria's case. i'm more than happy to either adapt how i write any of them to better fit into anyone elses' takes! and i'm more than happy to welcome more into the brainrot that i've minecrafted with the flores' or the hewitt-sawyers etc! that's something to come from plotting however! if we haven't really spoken ooc / etc then i default to a more general vision of the characters for the time being. i'm all up for taking different routes with new writing partners so please don't be shy about reaching out! c: if theres anything that conflicts with pre-existing personal lore of mine or is too similar to plots or dynamics i have already, i'll let you know and try to offer alternatives!

AFFILIATE PORTRAYALS & RELATED AU'S.

i have a few writing partners who i am affiliated with & with their respective tcsm canon muses. kels' leland, rae's connie, & lamb's johnny -- when i refer to leland/lee or connie or johnny in general on my posts, do know i am specifically referring to their portrayals as my general lore across my blog takes their muses & the dynamics built between them into account ♡ like i mentioned in ana's lil section, i'll start to make note in posts when i am referring to duplicate johnnys / lelands / connie's / etc for when im mentioning others' portrayals specifically! by default though i am always referring to my affiliates' portrayals when i post c: just wanted to clarify that though in case it was at all confusing or unclear ♡ affiliate verses here are as follows so far : - cold case ( cc / maria's dire au ; with lamb's johnny ) - no one saved you / we saved us ( nosy / wsu / maria & leland's joint dire au ; with kels' leland & lamb's johnny ) - oath binded ( maria & johnny's red string & reincarnation au / with lamb's johnny ) and then the still babiest dire au for my danny, - choke chained ( with lamb's johnny ). these verses, for me, are strictly worked with lamb ( & with kels for nosy/wsu ) -- meaning i'm not writing in them or doing similar au's with other portrayals of johnnys or lelands! again in case i haven't been clear on it before and it causes any confusion or anything! ♡

MARIA & JOHNNY.

i am not going to be shipping maria in any romantic / intimate sense nor am i open to any prolonged captive plots & interactions with other portrayals of johnny sawyer. those types of dynamics & interactions i've decided from this point on to close that for my maria to lamb's johnny ( @johnnysslaughter ) ♡ there has been a lot of plotting & build up between my portrayal of maria & lamb's portrayal of johnny and their varying dynamics across verses / au's and their different trajectories. and because of how many different iterations of their dynamic has been pieced together, i personally am not going to be taking other plots / dynamics with other johnny's that fall under the same umbrella as the dynamic between our maria & johnny do -- again meaning, i personally won't be shipping romantically / intimately nor will I take on plots that run parallel to cold case / no one saved you re: maria being taken captive for a prolonged period of time with other johnnys. alot of this decision on my part is very much due to how much we have developed them together -- another big part of it is my trust & comfort level with lamb to explore those dynamics between maria & johnny. this doesn't mean we are exclusive to one anothers' portrayals -- i am happy to write with other johnny's! and lamb is welcome to interact with other maria's! but from this point onward, i will only ship maria & johnny with lamb. ♡

[niyoniyoshi-art]

🥀Milo Belladonna💕

After working on this for two fucking months, it's finally finished. I've would have finished this within a month if I didn't work my ass off for school T^T

This is by far the most beautiful piece I've made so I hope this will get the love & attention it deserves. But still, hope ya'll like this!

Oh here are some doodles I made;

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!🔄 Leave a like!❤️ ✨Instagram✨

[normansnt]

Guys m so sorry the commissions are taking this long I'm working on it I swear but rn I'm BURIED in school work and next week I'm going on a school trip but after I'm back the stories will be posted I swear😭💗

Thank you sm for your patience and also the love my fics have been receiving I'm so greatly for ya'll🫶🫶🫶