#if some of the designs are off that’s on purpose

[lurkingshan]

Hellooo, do you have any recs for well written bls that also deliver on the romance front? My favorites that are both great shows and great love stories are Eighth sense, Old fashioned cupcake and I told the sunset about you ( the 2nd season is great but I dont f with cheating)...

Hello! I am interpreting your ask to mean you want bls that 1) are focused on a Big Love Story as their main purpose and 2) have strong writing that nails the romance, in particular. With that in mind, here's what I would recommend in addition to the ones you already listed, sorted into a few categories.

Dramatic and Swoony

La Pluie

Two soulmates (or are they?) meet, try to figure out their relationship, and decide whether they care what destiny has to say about it. Also features an equally swoony side couple romance. This show is Big Romance all around and very much in conversation with the genre.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

It doesn't get much more epic and swoony than this show about a modern gay man who gets sent back in time and falls in love with a young heir. This one has an asterisk next to the strong writing criteria because things get pretty wobbly in the final arc, but the romance stays strong throughout and it features some of the best bl romance scenes of all time.

Bad Buddy

It's gay Romeo and Juliet, but nobody dies (though importantly, someone does get shot). This one is tumblr famous for a reason!

Romantic Comedy

Cooking Crush

The sweetest romcom Off and Gun have ever made, with a simple love story between a med student and a chef. This show has some flaws--they let a drunk monkey take over the editing booth on a few episodes in the middle--but it's well written and the romance is great.

Cherry Magic Thailand

A remake of the Japanese original, this one shocked most of us by improving on an an already solid show. It's a fantastic romance, alternately funny and poignant and sweet as hell.

Semantic Error

The perfect bl romcom doesn't exis--

Light On Me

A high school love triangle where everyone is likable and the right boy gets the guy.

I Cannot Reach You

High school friends to lovers and done exactly right. This show is so goddamn charming and funny while still managing to get to the underlying angst of this trope. Perfection.

My School President

This one is all first love and high school shenanigans and a ton of original songs that will get stuck in your head.

Comforting and Cozy

Sing My Crush

Here's one for your constant rewatch list. A story of two best friends who love each other instantly but take awhile to make it explicitly romantic, as one of them is hurt and hiding and the other is oblivious yet somehow still devoted. You will love them.

Takara’s Treasure

This is a gentle love story between two lonely people who are exactly the right fit for each other but struggle with their own insecurities.

Our Dating Sim

A second chance romance for two high school friends who meet again as adults after a bad separation. Short and sweet with just the right touch of angst to burrow into your heart.

Angst Baby

At 25:00 in Akasaka

Two actors who first met in college are cast in a bl together, and the lines between their professional and private lives start to blur. This is a really beautiful and evocative show.

Wedding Plan

A gay man who is preparing to marry his lesbian best friend to protect themselves from their families falls in love with his wedding planner. It's a classic romance trope but this show does it so well, with an added layer of queer angst that really deepens the story.

My Beautiful Man

A high school story that centers on a psychologically complex relationship dynamic that will not become fully clear to you until the end (by design, the writing for this show is remarkable). It's not a traditional romance but it is a deeply moving one, and if you like it there's a sequel season and movie that are both also great.

Theory of Love

The messy angst-ridden friends to lovers drama we deserve. Don't skip the special episode, it's one of the rare cases where the special is actually crucial to the story and not just bonus fluff.

My Tooth Your Love

This one is romcom shaped but also deals a lot with trauma, so on balance it's more of an angsty romance. Warning for dentistry (which I recently learned is an issue for a lot of folks on here).

Gameboys 1 and 2

A pandemic-era romance that starts long distance before our boys can come together in real life. Definitely watch both seasons!

Jack O’ Frost

The only bl that has ever used the amnesia trope well. A romance gone wrong that gets an unexpected second chance after an accident forces a reset of their relationship. I found the themes of generosity and forgiveness in this one really moving.

Seven Days

This one is what it says on the tin--spend a week with two teenage boys as they try out dating each other. I really love the structure of this one, and the romance is well done.

[hobnob2020]

Solavellan hate

After reading the latest news today I just don't understand where all this hatred towards romanced Solas comes from.

I completely understand that there are possibly "better" romances out there to some people (I adored Dorians) but Veilguard is centred around Solas' past and present decisions so he's going to play a massive role in this game, Rook is literally designed to be a mirror image to Solas!

Now as far as the Inquisitors role in this, Solas duped them whether romanced or not so they are going to feel responsible for not seeing Solas for who and what he was, meaning they are willing to fix a mistake by either stopping or saving him depending on how you felt about him.

For us Solasmancers we were given the least fleshed out romance in DAI with no sex scene, no casual kissing and then had him walk out on us with no explanation so forgive us for feeling a little short changed after all these years.

To be given confirmation that a "happy" ending has been reached means so much to us so please stop trying to spoil our fun.

Just because people involved with the game love this relationship too and have addressed it more than others doesn't mean there won't be mention of other romances but i doubt anyone will show up except maybe Dorian purely for story purposes.

As for the "Default/Canon" inquisitor being a Lavellan without her markings I think they've done this to purely give new players the most that they can from DAI and Solas because you get so much more from his character when you're romancing him.

Can we not just celebrate this game and be grateful that this is happening in just over 30 days time and that it has survived lockdowm and multiple lay offs.

It is one of the greatest fandoms to be a part of and I love the art and fanfics that talented people create from it so please try to be kind and respect other people and their opinions.

[gildedtrashcan]

Name: Chips (given to him by a small child)

Status: Alive

Nature: Gentle

Height: 7'4"

Relationships:

Kit (mate)

1 unknown sibling (he refuses to speak about them, their status is unknown).

Bio:

Was made to aid his creators in exploring Ultraspace and interdimensional travel. He was designed to essentially be a bodyguard and fight off various threats.

Though he fulfilled his purpose and performed his tasks adequately, he is actually quite friendly and absolutely despises battling. He tends to only fight as a last resort now that he has the freedom to live life on his own terms.

He is heavily scarred from his past battles and is blind in his right eye while his left eye is missing entirely. His mate Kit tends to function as his eyes, communicating what she sees telepathically or by sight sharing. He functions as her ears as she's completely deaf and he telepathically relays what he hears to her when needed. His tail was also bitten off at some point during an altercation, the memory has been blocked out.

He was captured by another group and cuffed due to non-compliance. Unfortunately this took place while he was still growing and they didn't have the sense to replace them, leaving him with scarred wrists.

Team Rocket stole him as well as terrabytes of data during their own raid, bringing him back to the universe he resides in now. Having Kit remove his cuffs was enough to ensure his cooperation with Team Rocket, though this was very short lived as their own facility would be raided by the authorities within days.

He has since been freed alongside his mate and is extremely grateful, now assisting the authorities in their investigations when needed.

[vodika-vibes]

Can we get some Echo smut pretty please!! (Also one of my biggest pet peeves is how like every tbb echo/reader fic is always about him being insecure about his prosthetics like I get it but it's so repetitive. My man can be so confident and cocky when he wants to be and people seem to forget that.)

Who's Insecure

Summary:  Several months after joining Clone Force 99, Hunter surprises them with a night off at a local club. But, for some reason, his brothers seem to think he will be insecure about his new appearance. Which means, he has a point to prove.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1557

Warnings: Smut, club sex, Echo uses his scomp for purposes it's not designed for

A/N: So, I love Echo, and I love Echo smut, and I'm really not sure why I don't write more of it. But, anyway, here's Echo smut with some plot. It's not a lot of smut, but I hope you like it anyway.

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It’s a nice club. It’s not 79s, it doesn’t have the same comfortable vibe that 79s has, but it’s good all the same. The alcohol is cheap, the snacks are edible, and the music is loud.

For Echo, it’s good enough.

Honestly, he’s more surprised that his little brothers were willing to go clubbing at all.

While he would never say so to their faces, they aren’t really the clubbing type.

Which is a shame, because there’s a cute girl near the bar who hasn’t taken her eyes off Tech since they arrived. But, knowing his genius little brother, he won’t notice. And, even if he did notice, he wouldn’t know what to do about it.

At times like this, he really misses Fives and Jesse.

But, much more importantly, he has his eyes on a pretty little thing dancing up a storm on the dance floor. So far she’s turned away everyone who’s tried to dance with her. That said, she keeps meeting his gaze and tossing him flirty grins, so he’s just biding his time.

What kind of older brother will he be if he ditches his brothers before making sure that they’re having a good time?

“Echo?” He pauses, his bottle only centimeters away from his lips, and he tears his eyes away from swaying hips to focus his attention on his, suddenly nervous, brother. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Just,” Hunter nervously shares a look with Crosshair, who looks almost bored, “We just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Echo stares at them blankly for a moment, and then he smiles, “Sorry?” He’s got to at least pretend to be a good role model, right? He can’t just ask them what the kriff they’re talking about, that’s rude. 

“We know that you’re a little uncertain about your new look,” Tech says without looking up from his datapad.

I’m what now? Echo blinks at his brothers, genuinely thrown by Tech’s comment.

“And people can be cruel,” Hunter continues, “Just don’t let it get to you if people make comments—”

Suddenly, Echo realizes that his new little brothers seem to think that he’s insecure about his prosthetics. Or his scars. Or maybe both. Maybe he’s done too good of a job at hiding his gremlin personality (as Rex calls it) from them.

He hums thoughtfully, his mind racing, and then his gaze slides back to the dance floor. For a moment, his gaze lingers on a specific pair of swaying hips and legs that go on for miles…and then he smirks.

Echo downs the rest of his drink and sets the bottle on the table, before he pushes to his feet, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, vod’e.” He turns to head to the dance floor, “I won’t be back to the Marauder tonight,” He tosses over his shoulder with a slightly smug smirk. 

He weaves through the crowd of people and dismisses the two men who are trying to force his dance partner to dance with them with a flick of two fingers. 

She grins up at him, “I wondered if you were going to join me,” She teases, her voice light and conversational.

Echo’s hand slides low on her hip, “Patience is a virtue, didn’t you know?” He’s amused and he sounds it, “I’m definitely worth waiting for, babe.”

She hums and trails her fingers down the front of his shirt, “Prove it?”

“Gladly.”

In full honesty, you didn’t expect the cute soldier to actually come over to you. You don’t expect your flirty looks, teasing smiles, and seductive dancing to tempt him onto the dance floor with you. Let alone for him to clutch you to him as though you’re his and his alone.

He’s confident and cocky, not to mention strong and unfairly handsome. He has you wrapped around his little finger after one dance, after two you’d probably agree to anything he asked, and after the third dance, you’re wondering what you have to do to be able to keep him.

Your back bumps against the cool metal door of a storage room, and you can feel the music from the club vibrating down to your bones, but neither sensation is as important to you as the feel of his lips against yours, and his tongue sliding against your own. 

His arm is tight around your waist, holding you flush against him, as he blindly opens the door behind you and then walks you into the small room. You hear him lock the door as it slides shut behind him, and you whine low in your throat as he pulls away from you. 

Echo chuckles and cups your cheek, “Someone’s eager,” He kisses you quickly, and pulls away again making you pout up at him. He looks amused, you can tell that much even in the dim light of the storage room, though you’re not sure why he’s so amused.

You don’t say anything, just deepen your pout, and lean into his warmth.

His thumb slides across your lower lip, “Ah, cyare. I’m going to have to break you of these bratty tendencies,” But, even as he says it, he looks delighted.

“Not bratty,” You whine, before you take his thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently. You have a very talented mouth, maybe if you show him just how talented you are he’ll continue touching you again.

You keep your gaze locked with his, so you watch as arousal darkens his gaze. “Very bratty,” His voice is lower now, and you shiver at the promising tone in his voice, “Take your clothes off.”

You blink at him and pull away from his thumb, “All of them?”

“Did I stutter?”

You take a step back and slowly start peeling your clothes off. You’re not wearing much, all things considered. A top, a skirt, panties, and your sandals. 

You’re about to toss your panties to join the rest of your clothes, but Echo tugs them out of your hand and shoves them in his pocket. You don’t mind, it’s not like you don’t have more after all.

“Mm, look at how pretty you are,” Echo murmurs, as he backs you toward a table near the back wall and encourages you to sit on it. It’s surprisingly sturdy, for a wooden table. He taps the inside of your knees, spreading your legs so that he’s able to stand between your thighs. 

His gaze drops to your pussy, and he releases a quiet breath, “Look at how wet you are,” His gaze flickers to your face as he slowly brushes his scomp against your clit, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “All this for me?”

For some reason, you feel like you should be embarrassed at just how aroused you are for this man you just met, but you aren’t. You feel safe and warm and you want more.

You are aware enough to know that he’s not a mind reader, so you squirm under him and spread your legs slightly, “More,”

He grins at you, “What was that? You want me to stop?”

“No, More! Echo—”

He pulls his scomp away from your clit, and you release a whine of displeasure, which is quickly muffled by his lips against yours, “Greedy,” He chides against your lips, “And so rude. Did no one teach you manners?” His tone is teasing.

You blink at him, hazily, “Please?” 

“Please what, beautiful?”

You tug on the front of his shirt, “Touch me,”

“I am touching you,”

And he is, his lips are moving across your jaw and down your neck, while his hand alternated between tightly clutching your hip, and caressing every inch of skin that he can reach.

You squirm against him, able to feel his erection pressed against your thigh through his jeans, “Stop teasing me,” You whine.

“All you have to do is tell me what you want,” Echo replies, “That’s it. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I want—” You’re interrupted by a loud moan at the sensation of his scomp ghosting against your pussy.

“You want?” He’s laughing, the jerk.

It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and you shoot him the neediest look you can muster, “I want your cock, please?”

His grin widens, “Well,” Echo leans in and kisses you slowly, “Who am I to deny such a polite request?”

He pulls away just enough to unfasten his pants and tug his boxers just enough out of the way for his cock to bounce free, “You’re not gonna fully undress?” You ask, breathlessly.

“If you’re a good girl,” Echo replies as he gathers some of your arousal on his fingers to spread on his cock, “Maybe you can have me in your bed and see me naked.”

“I can be good,” You counter, and then your head falls back with a moan as the head of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yeah?” His hand moves to the back of your head and he makes you look at him. There’s a grin on his handsome face, and you gasp as he thrusts deep inside you with one firm roll of his hips. 

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he bottoms out and stops moving, much to your displeasure. 

Echo’s lips hover just over yours, as he throws your words back at you, “Prove it.”

@n0vqni @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @cc--2224 @adriennelenoir

[hypnogold]

Crescent Park

A special thanks to all my bros on the team!

As the sun dipped lower behind the trees of Crescent Park, a tense stillness filled the air. The Golden Team moved with precision, converting park-goers one by one, their sleek metallic jerseys glinting in the fading light. Coach Richard oversaw the operation, his towering frame exuding authority, while Walter—recently promoted to team manager—moved with newfound confidence, handling the transformations with growing expertise.

Walter approached his next target, a young man sitting alone near a pond, fiddling with his phone. His heart beat faster, not out of fear or hesitation, but from anticipation. He relished this. As the team manager, he took pride in outfitting the recruits, creating custom golden suits that symbolized their complete submission. He had worked hard to design each uniform, from the sharp white button-up shirts to the black-and-red striped ties beneath the shimmering golden jerseys. Now, it was time to add another name to the roster.

“Hey, man, mind if I sit?” Walter’s voice was smoother now, confident. The young man glanced up, surprised, but nodded.

Walter slipped a golden jersey from his bag, his fingers brushing against the soft, shimmering fabric. “You ever worn something like this? Trust me—it feels incredible. Changes everything.”

The young man raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure of where this was going, but before he could react, Walter grabbed his shoulder, locking him in place. The golden jersey slid over his head with an eerie precision, and as the fabric touched his skin, the transformation began.

The first sensation was warmth—an almost intoxicating comfort that spread from the jersey, radiating into every fiber of his being. The young man gasped, his body stiffening, his mind fighting for control, but it was futile. The warmth grew more intense, like being wrapped in the most welcoming embrace. His muscles slackened, a strange euphoria taking over as his thoughts slowed, rearranged, and reshaped by the power of the jersey.

As the golden spirals in his mind deepened, his name—whatever it had been before—was erased. He blinked, and a new name filled the void in his mind: Dean. It wasn’t just a name; it was an identity, a purpose. Dean belonged to the Golden Team now. His personality shifted, becoming simpler, more focused, his mind locked on one thing—obeying the Cap, obeying the Gold.

“We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” Dean murmured softly, as if the mantra had always been part of him.

Walter grinned. “That’s right, bro. You’re one of us now.”

Dean’s posture straightened, his hands smoothing over his new jersey. His speech changed, becoming more casual, almost bro-like. “Feels good, man. So good to just… obey.”

Walter clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the team, Dean. Now let’s get you to work.”

Not far off, Brody and Scott were working on another group of men, this time two joggers who had been cornered by the fountain. Brody, with his sharp eyes and quick movements, had already wrestled a VR headset onto one of the men. The spirals flickered to life, and the jogger's body jerked in response, his eyes wide with shock as his mind was engulfed in the golden waves of hypnotic control.

Brody and Scott are ready to recruit some more bros..

The man’s breathing quickened as the headset took over, each pulse of the golden spirals draining his resistance. His body sagged into submission, his mind softening like putty, molding itself to fit the team’s desires. His name? Gone. A new one settled in its place—Barry

Barry let out a soft laugh, his former self melting away. He tugged at the golden jersey that now fit snugly over his chest, feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging. His voice, once steady and confident, now carried a playful, bro-ish tone. “Man, why didn’t I do this sooner? Feels so right, bro.”

Scott stepped up beside him, laughing with him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about, Barry. You’re gonna love being on the team. We’re all about the Gold now.”

Barry’s face lit up as he joined in the laughter, his eyes swirling with the lingering golden spirals. His focus had narrowed, his thoughts reshaped into one core belief: obedience to Cap and Gold. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” he repeated, his voice filled with a mix of pride and devotion.

As more men succumbed, Walter’s confidence only grew. He was proud of what the team was becoming, of the role he played in crafting their identities and uniforms. Each golden suit, carefully tailored and fitted, was a symbol of their unity, their purpose. The fabric seemed to glow brighter as each new recruit joined, as if absorbing the strength of their allegiance.

Walter spotted another target, a tall, lean man who had been watching the chaos unfold from the far end of the park. The man’s eyes were wide with fear as he turned to run, but Walter was faster. He reached him in seconds, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back toward the team. The man struggled, panic in his eyes, but Walter was calm, collected.

“You don’t need to fight this, take my headset” Walter said, slipping the golden VR headset over the man’s head. “Just let it happen.”

The man’s body trembled as the spirals began their work, dissolving the fear, the resistance, until he was completely still, his mind under the control of the Golden Team. His name was stripped away, replaced with something new—Travis. His thoughts dulled, his emotions drained, replaced with a singular focus: obedience.

“We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” Travis whispered, his voice trembling with newfound loyalty. Walter gave Travis his new uniform and he discarded his bright blue one. He obeys Cap.

Coach Richard watched from a distance, his gaze approving. Walter had come far, and he had proven himself not just as a manager but as an integral part of the team. He made sure every recruit wore their uniform with pride, and he executed the transformations with precision and confidence.

As the park darkened and the last of the stragglers were brought into the fold, Walter, Brody, and Scott stood proudly beside Coach Richard. The Golden Team had grown once again, and with each new recruit, their power expanded.

“Another good day’s work,” Coach Richard said, his voice filled with pride. “We’ll keep pushing, keep growing. They all obey us eventually.”

Walter nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

The others echoed the mantra, their voices blending into a single, unified chant. The park was theirs, and soon, there would be more parks, more recruits, more gold.

At the other side of the park...

I was in the middle of a perfect slapshot, the whistling through the air, when I saw them coming—these guys in golden jerseys. I didn’t think much of it at first. It’s a park, right? People wear weird stuff all the time. But there was something off about the way they moved. They weren’t just walking—they were converging, fast, in this synchronized, almost military formation.

Then I saw them close in on the basketball game happening across the field. My buddies were laughing and shouting, passing the ball back and forth, completely oblivious to the group of golden-shirted guys surrounding them. My heart jumped, something about the way they moved didn’t sit right.

Before I could shout a warning, one of the golden guys—this huge dude with a smirk—grabbed Tim, our goalie. He yanked a shiny gold jersey over Tim's head. It was so quick, almost casual, but the moment that jersey touched him, Tim froze, his whole body locking up like he’d been hit by a truck. He dropped the ball, eyes wide, and I could see the struggle on his face, like he was trying to fight whatever was happening. But it didn’t last long. His muscles relaxed, and then, something worse—his face twisted into this... this grin, like he was happy, relieved even.

“Tim! Run!” I shouted, but it was too late.

The golden guy holding him turned him around so we could all see. Tim’s back was now emblazoned with a name I didn’t recognize—“Brad 8.” I froze in place, stick in hand. That wasn’t Tim anymore. Brad, whoever that was, nodded, still grinning, and joined the golden guys, completely in sync.

I felt a pit in my stomach. Panic set in as I watched them move to the next one—Mark. Mark was trying to shove the guys off, but another jersey was already over his head. The moment it touched him, his resistance melted away. His body slumped before straightening into that same eerily obedient posture. He turned around, and sure enough, “Barry 17” was stitched across his back. Just like that, he was gone too.

That’s when instinct took over. I dropped my ball and bolted for the trees. I ran so fast I could feel the air burn my lungs, but I didn’t stop. Not until I was deep into the park’s wooded area, out of sight. My heart was pounding, and my hands shook as I crouched behind a thick bush, peeking out just enough to watch.

From my hiding spot, I had a clear view of the field. I could still see the others—the guys I’d known for years—being systematically transformed. One by one, those golden jerseys were yanked over their heads, and each time it was the same. First, a struggle, but then... they’d just stop. Stop fighting, stop thinking, and become part of them. Every time, a new name appeared on their backs—Henry, Brock, Chad—and with it, the person I knew was gone.

The golden guys were chanting something too. I could barely make it out over the wind and rustling trees, but it sounded like, “We obey Cap and we obey Gold.” Over and over again, as if that was the only thing that mattered now.

I saw one of the golden guys grab Alex, the last one left. Alex was a tough dude, always talking about how he’d never back down from a fight. But he didn’t stand a chance. They wrestled him to the ground, and soon, he was wearing the same jersey. When he stood up, his back was turned toward me. “Cody 23” was stitched into the gold, as if he’d never been Alex at all.

I pressed myself harder into the ground, biting back the urge to scream or run again. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was like they weren’t even human anymore. They laughed, patted each other on the back, but it wasn’t normal. It was like... like they were all sharing the same brain, like they all belonged to something much bigger than themselves.

I swallowed, my mouth dry. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, because if they found me, I knew what would happen. I’d get a jersey too, and that would be the end of me.

The golden guys, now with my friends—no, with Brad, Barry, and Cody—moved on, searching for more people in the park. They’d completely forgotten about the game, about the goals and the ball. That wasn’t their world anymore. It was all about Cap and Gold. That was their new identity, and I was the last one left who wasn’t part of it.

I stayed there, hidden in the bushes, for what felt like hours. The chanting faded as they moved farther away, leaving me alone in the park that used to be ours. I had to get out of here, but every time I thought about leaving, I remembered the look on Tim’s—no, Brad’s—face when they took him. That empty, happy grin. I was terrified I’d see that smile in the reflection of my own face if they caught me.

I waited until the sun began to set before creeping out of my hiding spot, moving quietly through the trees, making sure no one could see me. But as I left, the mantra kept echoing in my head, the same phrase over and over:

“We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

It wouldn’t stop. And a part of me feared that no matter how far I ran, I might still hear it.

1 hour later..

I crept through the trees, my heart still hammering in my chest. The sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows over the park. I thought I was in the clear, that I could escape unnoticed. But as I took a step out of the wooded area, there was a sudden rustling behind me.

"Where you headed, bro?"

The voice sent ice down my spine. I turned, and there he was—Brody, one of the golden guys. He was standing just a few feet away, his metallic golden jersey gleaming in the fading light, the white button-up shirt and striped tie underneath still visible. He wore that same grin I had seen on the others, like he was in on some cosmic joke.

I froze, my legs refusing to move, my mouth dry. I had no idea how he had found me, but I could see it in his eyes—he knew. I was the last one left. Brody took a step forward, his grin widening, and before I could react, two more golden-clad guys appeared from the trees—Scott and Dean. They had circled me.

“Coach is gonna be happy to see you,” Brody said, his voice so casual, like we were just old friends hanging out. “You can’t run from this, man. You’re part of the team now.”

“No, I—I’m not,” I stammered, taking a shaky step back. My hands were trembling. “I’m not like you.”

Scott chuckled softly. “You will be.”

Before I could even think to bolt, Dean moved with lightning speed, grabbing me by the arms. His grip was firm, but not painful. It was almost... comforting. "Don't fight it, bro," he whispered, his voice strangely soothing. "We obey Cap and we obey Gold."

“No! Let me go!” I yelled, struggling to break free, but Dean held me tight. Brody and Scott stepped forward, both of them pulling a golden jersey from the bag slung over Brody’s shoulder. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what was coming.

“Don’t worry,” Brody said, “it feels good once it’s on.”

I thrashed, trying to escape, but Dean’s grip was like iron. I couldn’t break free. Then, with a swift motion, Scott yanked the jersey over my head. As the golden fabric touched my skin, something inside me shifted—an overwhelming warmth spread through my body, starting from where the jersey pressed against my shoulders, down my arms, into my chest. My resistance faltered, my limbs growing heavy.

The warmth was intoxicating. It seeped into my bones, making my mind feel... fuzzy. My thoughts, once sharp and panicked, began to blur at the edges. I could still feel the fear, but it was fading, being replaced by something else—something far more pleasant. A sense of belonging, of calm.

My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees. Brody and Scott knelt beside me, their hands resting on my shoulders. “Just let it happen,” Scott whispered, “it’s easier that way.”

I tried to hold onto who I was—tried to remember my name, my life—but the jersey was working its way deeper into my mind. I could feel it now, creeping through my thoughts, replacing them with something new. My name—it felt distant, like a word I had heard once but didn’t fully recognize anymore. A new name was forming in its place.

As I knelt there, struggling against the warmth flooding my body from the golden jersey, the last fragments of my old self slipped away. My name… I tried to hold onto it, to remember who I was before all this. But the more I fought, the deeper the warmth sank in, washing away my resistance. A new name began to form, one that felt foreign and familiar all at once.

“Joshua,” I whispered, the word coming from somewhere deep within me. It felt right, like it had always been my name, like it was who I was meant to be.

Brody smiled down at me, nodding approvingly. “Yeah, Joshua. Welcome to the team, bro.”

I felt a strange rush of pride. The jersey was no longer just a piece of fabric clinging to my body—it was part of me now. It fit perfectly, like it had been made for me, like it belonged on me. And I belonged to the team.

Scott stood beside me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder, his grip no longer threatening but reassuring. “You feel it now, right, Joshua? The purpose. The brotherhood.”

I nodded, standing up on shaky legs. The transformation had washed away every trace of fear and hesitation, replacing them with something far stronger. I looked at the other guys, at Dean, Scott, and Brody, and I didn’t just see a group of men—I saw my team, my brothers. I was one of them now.

I turned to look at my reflection in the fountain. The name "Joshua 19" was emblazoned on the back of my golden jersey, the number gleaming in the evening light. It felt perfect. I felt perfect.

My thoughts had shifted completely. The confusion, the doubt—all gone. Now, there was only loyalty. Loyalty to Cap. Loyalty to Gold. It was simple, clear, and it filled me with a sense of fulfillment I had never known before.

Brody chuckled, his voice warm as he patted me on the back. “You get it now, Joshua. We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

The words slipped from my lips as if they had always been there. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” I echoed, feeling the power of the mantra take root deep within me. It wasn’t just a phrase; it was a way of life. A belief. An oath.

Scott and Dean joined in, all of us chanting together, a unified voice of devotion. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

I smiled, finally feeling at peace. The struggle was over. I wasn’t running anymore. I wasn’t hiding. I was home.

As I stood there with my brothers, the mission was clear. We weren’t done yet. The park was full of new recruits, and I knew exactly what my role was now. It was time to find them, welcome them, and show them what it meant to be part of the team. I was Joshua now, and nothing else mattered.

They were told to enter a golden bus and drive of to the Golden Home where all the Golden Team boys live. They needed to wear the VR headsets, because no one knows where it is...yet everyone obeyed.

I had a purpose, and together with the Golden Team, we were going to make sure everyone understood: we obey Cap, and we obey Gold.

[snowdropluck204]

A Date With Death - Spencer Reid x Unsub Fem! Reader - Pt 2

Hiya my lovelies... It's been a while... Mainly because I've been trying to write an original book, but hit a snag, so I'm back to my criminal minds centre of my brain to try and get some inspiration, hopefully this works... Anyway! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Xxx

TW: Murder, gore, blood, mentions of rapists, paedophiles, abuse, y/n being mistaken for male, assisted suicide.

Tag List: @vexis-world @inexplicableeee @flowercrownsandtrauma @alysianc @btsiguess-kpop @devilslittlebabyxx @delusional-4-fake-people @mega-kittyglitter-1 @esposadomd

(y/n) pov

I watched from around the corner of the hallway, waiting for Isabel Jackson to come home, waiting for her to stumble back to her hovel as she did most nights, either from her graveyard shift or from a night of drinking. This particular woman, wasn't as bad as a lot of the people I had previously disposed of, she hadn't killed anyone herself, but she was the reason for two young men, taking their own lives.

I sighed, thinking about the news articles, I remembered this case, it happened about two years ago and was thrown out of court. Because a woman couldn't possibly be capable of raping and abusing four, strapping young men? Could she? Granted the public believed that the person killing all these people was a man, probably not thinking anyone participating in such gruesome events could be a woman. I sighed once more. This was all for one purpose.

I watched, through the camera doorbell, as the woman came home, stumbling into her apartment and promptly passing out, as I could see all the cameras' feeds on my tablet. I waited, for around an hour, before walking up to the door, my mask on, I had decided to lean into the press and media, wearing a mask again, but this time, one of my own design. It was a kabuki mask, one of a skull, bright, innocent colours, like that of my original candy skull mask, but this one was mine. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a long, black rectangular box, a device I had invented, I waved it across the door lock, hearing the soft kachunck as the tumblers fell into place. I looked up at the camera, knowing that the police would be able to see me, I waved.

I opened the door and stepped inside. I took great care in disabling the security system, the cameras, the alarms, of course it wasn't difficult, I was the one who had designed the system, I had been the one to sell them to her...

3rd Person pov

The police, and therefore the BAU, had been notified of finding another body, matching the unsub's MO. A man had called the police, stating that he had just come off his shift at the graveyard, the same one the body was found, when he saw someone leaving, couldn't see a face or clothing, it was barely lit in the early morning. But he walked over, feeling the whole thing was rather sketchy, seeing a dead body just outside the gates of cemetery.

The victim still carried his I.D, whether it was left on the body by design or the killer had forgotten about it was unknown. The man's name was David James, he had been previously convicted of domestic assault, and later, sexual assault and paedophilia. Spencer called Garcia, asking for a background check on the latest victim and receiving a call, not two minutes later with what she had found.

Spencer put the call on speaker phone, holding it up awkwardly, so that Morgan and Hotch could listen into the call, "Go ahead Garcia," Spencer said, eagerly awaiting what she had found.

Garcia sighed, coming through the phone crackled and morphed, "This guy was creepy, not like Hannibal creepy, but just icky kinda creepy. He was arrested a few years ago, police having gotten a call from the neighbours that they heard screaming coming from his place, he was taken in by the police, his wife was bloodied and bruised, with broken fingers, obviously he'd beaten the stuffing out of her, poor woman. There wasn't enough evidence to make it stick, because without the wife's testimony, apparently the rest of the evidence was circumstantial... Morons." Garcia groaned.

"But then there was a sticking of one charge, being sexual assault and paedophilia... Ew... Apparently he molested his own daughter when she was ten... He spent only a year in jail, he made a deal and walked with no parole, that was about five years ago, and unfortunately his daughter couldn't deal with the trauma, she took her own life in a foster home, two years ago. Her mom ran away when she found out her husband was released from prison... She was found a year ago, overdosed, they were buried together at Linwood Cemetery." Garcia finished her deep dive, Spencer was intrigued.

"Wait, Linwood Cemetery?" He asked softly. Garcia confirmed. "That's where the body was found," He informed her. "So the killer knows the specifics about his crimes, knows where his family and previous abuse victims were buried and left him outside the graveyard?" Spencer asked, crouching down to look at the body, seeing a note on one side of the corpse. "That's new..." He said, wearing rubber gloves and picking up the note.

The note read, "No entry for sinners."

"A note from the unsub?" Hotch asked, looking over Spencer's shoulder.

"I don't think so," Morgan responded, "The guy who found the body works here, he seemed to be a pretty big fan of the unsub, he was wearing a pin that said "Don't fear the reaper." Like that song?" He said, "I think this is just that weirdo trying to get fifteen seconds of fame." Morgan rolled his eyes at the idea.

Garcia had been following the media response towards the unsub, most people were completely enamoured with him, that he was doing work that should have been taken care of.

Spencer leaned back towards the body, taking care to look through every aspect of the scene, the body was facing up, arms crossed over his chest, a white lily laced between the fingers, cleaned of most of the blood, which hadn't leaked much onto the ground where he was lying, so the unsub had cleaned up most of the blood at a separate location, most likely the victim's home, before bringing him here. This could have been a sign of remorse... Or a way of leaving less evidence.

The garrote was once again, wrapped around the neck, digging painfully into the skin, leaving deep, bloody grooves in the throat and the handle had the word paedophile carved jaggedly. The carving seemed different to the other victims, this one was angry and harsh, you could see just how much pressure was forced into the wood. Spencer's brow furrowed in concentration, "The unsub seems to have a connection with paedophiles, either they were assaulted as a child or knew somebody who was being assaulted and didn't do anything, that feeling of guilt probably followed them into adulthood and they're trying to compensate for their lack of power then, by forcing their will on these types of felons now.

This kind of unsub is especially dedicated, I doubt he'd stop until he's caught, there's only a finite amount of people he could kill, eventually the felons would become harder to locate, or the unsub would simply get too old... Either way, we need to catch them or he'll just continue..." Spencer finished, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Hotch looked on at him in worry, seeing him so befuddled was odd, to everyone on the team.

When they were ready, the team went back to the local station, ready to give the cops the profile they were working with. Standing in a circle around the group of desks in the bullpen, each member of the team filled in the police on what they knew. "We believe we're searching for a man in their mid twenties, not necessarily poor or well off, more middle class, probably has a job working with parts, computers, cars, something he can have control over." Hotch began.

Morgan stepped forward, to continue, "We believe something happened to this man in his childhood, either he was sexually abused or someone in his life was and he was powerless to do anything about it, now he's taking the law into his own hands to fix what he couldn't fix back then."

Elle began to speak, "He won't be open about his feelings on the news and the press, this isn't about fame and media portrayal, this is personal, he has a target in mind, we just don't know who that is yet, but we do know that he won't stop until this object of his obsession is taken care of, or until we catch him."

Spencer watched his teammates thoughtfully, he was conflicted about his feelings regarding these killings, it was obviously a horrible thing to have to look at the string of victims this unsub had left behind, but these were bad people, so maybe they deserved this kind of end? He stepped forward, "This unsub is most likely calm and collected, someone you could tell your troubles to, someone you can share secrets with, someone charismatic and easygoing. They might be religious, probably some kind of old druid or pagan religion, and they're the kind of person to feel deeply upsetting about hearing about the loss of a person, even if they didn't know them."

Spencer was frustrated with himself, most of the profile wasn't conclusive. The unsub might not be religious, they might have just been incredibly intelligent and throwing the police off by adding a religious format to the killings... They might not have been sympathetic towards their victims, but want to seem as though they are... Everything about this profile felt... Wrong...

One of the local cops came into the room out of breath, "Sorry to interrupt, we've found another body, almost half a mile away from the last..." He said anxiously, Spencer glanced at the rest of the BAU, Gideon meeting his tired eyes. Each time he thought they were getting closer, the unsub seemed to be at least three steps ahead of them...

They were probably on their next victim already...

(y/n) pov

Isabel Jackson, wasn't difficult to deal with, she was so wasted that she barely woke up before I slit her throat, the feeling of her blood seeping into my clothes made me feel ill, I couldn't help the shivering and retching as got back to my car. I sighed, realising there was still someone else I had to visit, someone who wasn't on my list necessarily, but was someone I genuinely did care about.

When I saw the text I was left, I couldn't ignore it, I drove to a suburb neighbourhood, mostly populated by elders, this house was no different. I stepped in through the gap in the back fence, walking through the backyard under the cover of night, I used my key to get into the house through the back door, walking through the house I'd known all my life. This house in particular belonged to a lovely old man named Reggie, he was just the sweetest old fellow, but now...

I walked into the room that was once a cosy living room, now it had been converted into a bedroom, after Reggie got too weary and frail to handle the stairs, the room was now filled with bottles of pills and ointments, heart monitors, IV drips and Reggie... Poor, poor Reggie.

Stage four, terminal pancreatic cancer, he'd beaten cancer once, when I was still small, but he was exhausted, too tired to fight, I stepped closer to the bed, seeing Reg, sleeping, even sleeping he looked tired, each breath looked like it was agony to take. I sat next to him, taking his cold hand in mine, "Reg?" I said softly, trying not to choke on tears and the lump in my throat.

He startled awake, seeing me, he settled back against the pillows. Being that I was inside the house, the curtains were closed, I had taken off my mask, showing my face, I probably looked almost as tired as he was. He smiled weakly, raising his hand from mine to cup my cheek, "Is that my little duck?" He asked, teasingly, that same glint in his eye from all those years ago that never seemed to fade. I smiled, nodding.

When I was a child, from when I was five til I was about eight, I had an obsession with ducks, I had shirts with them, I wore a onesie with a bill and duck tail, apparently I even spent a good few weeks quacking at people... Reggie never let me forget it, I remember when I was a teenager I would roll my eyes at his teasing comments, now, I couldn't even laugh. I leaned into his hand resting against my cheek.

Reggie took in my appearance, a small frown came onto his face, "Never expected my lil duck to become a murderer..." He mumbled. I sighed, nodding, even though it pained me to hear his comment.

"I know Reg... But I have to do this... for everyone that they hurt, or could hurt... For chick..." I told him, my eyes filling with tears, struggling to keep them from trailing down my cheeks. Reggie's eyes grew sad when I mentioned her, he knew exactly who I was doing this for. "When I got the text from your daughter... I didn't know what to do... I didn't know if I would be hearing your last words or taking them..." At that, I broke, leaning my head against his bed, soaking the covers with my tears, my chest sore from my sobs.

I felt Reggie's shaky hand rest on my head, I looked up at him, "You know what I want you to do, but don't feel you have to... I don't want this resting on your conscious." His voice was almost pathetic, quiet, he was simply ready to die...

I sighed, pulling open my bag, the kit I brought out was relatively lightweight, but the gravity of what I was about to do seemed to be pulling my down. I pulled out some syringes. "I got these from a nurse friend I have, they'll put you into a sleep you won't wake up from..." I told him, trying to be stoic, but I could feel myself breaking. This man was like a grandpa to me, to chicky... We would play here after school when our parents were working, hell even when they were, Reggie would chase us about, we'd play tag, hide and seek, and Reg would make us hot chocolate with a horrific amount of marshmallows and whipped cream as he'd tell us stories about monsters and dragons and princesses that were sick of being saved.

Reggie leaned back, closing his eyes, as I injected the serum, "Thank you, my little duck..." He whispered, as his eyes fell closed and his face went slack. I sighed, the dam breaking as I sobbed over the loss. After a few minutes, I laced the flower between his fingers, kissed his head and turned off the beeping monitor, I wiped my face, pulled down my mask and left the house, not even bothering to hide from anyone that could have seen me. I got in my car, and drove, I didn't know where I was driving until I got there...

I was in the field me and chick used to visit, meadow and streams everywhere, my knees began to ache, like they couldn't hold me up anymore. I fell to the floor and began to dig with my gloved hands, I felt like I'd been digging for hours, but I leaned over and screamed. I screamed and screamed until my voice was raw, all the sound being swallowed by this hole in the ground...

Hope this chapter was okay, this was more about setting out a background for your character! Hopefully it won't take me too long to write part three, granted I say that every time... Wish me luck! Xxx

[galaxiesovertrees]

I had a blast with these, might do more

( original found here ! )

[bigfatbreak]

I'm sitting very politely and asking if it would be possible to see Adrien akumatised by Viceroy. Even if you don't want to, letting you know I'm insane about all your AUs (and your art in general, alien behaviour Shadow was so cool), you do such amazing work and I am completely normal about it

(Caspases' concept art beloooow)

[st4rstudent]

people seemed to like the last design so here's another drawing. this time featuring a surprise guest. haha wow whos that guy...

no dialogue ver

[sysig]

Wuh oh (Patreon)

Bonus:

The novel experience of being crushed by a giant rock, a visual metaphor

[frindoka]

i’ve barely been able to drawj recently (busy) but i finished what’s basically a complete overhaul for an older deltarune oc (of the same name)

[superbellsubways]

i recognize your splatoon tartar design!!! do you have any main inspirations for it? also sry if its been too long for u to remember, i just recall seeing it on google images

YES I DO i made these last year

(i forgot to include Spinel but she was also an inspo fhfjdjd especially when it comes to the stretchy arms and a bit of her personality)

[boxheadpaint]

i want to make a guide to drawing gen 1 style sprites but my vocabulary is so limited that its hard to think of something coherent past "well dont make it look bad but dont worry about it looking good either"

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[sumnantics]

[bidokja]

the only nitpick i have about mystic Prince is they gradually started drawing jeokyeon slimmer and slimmer, especially in recent arcs. like, if you compare chapter 1 jeokyeon to the latest chapters they've lost sooo much shoulder mass and their neck is so much slimmer and smoother and even their fingers/hands look more dainty than they did at first. i am 100% convinced its cause they're drawing jeokyeon in more intimate situations with men recently so they're drawn to look more "acceptably" feminine (ugh) to pair well with men. cowards!! cOWARDSSSSS!!!