#yazzy speaks

[taurusicorn2400]

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY BUT IT'S ALSO TWDG S1'S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I make this post every year, but I'm so glad to share a bday with a game that is so dear to my heart and has brought me to meet people I adore and care for dearly

Thank you TWDG and happy birthday to you 😎

[unfortunate-brat]

soldier boy can throw me around like a rag doll ‼️

very valid. i too would like to be treated like a blow up sex doll 🤭. for your troubles, i present something very special for you.

Dirty

pairing: soldier boy x latina!reader

synopsis: soldier boy is america’s sweetheart, so its no excuse he wants things done a certain way.

word count: 852

warnings: NO PLOT, smut, sexism, slight racist behavior and vocabulary from soldier boy, degration, no protection, talk of pregnancy, roughness from soldier boy. he’s not the one you wanna take home to your mother.

yazzy's comments: honestly hear me OUT! it is my belief that soldier boy would 100% act this way and i’m entitled to my opinion. if you don’t like, scroll away !!

“¿esto es lo que te gusta? what a fucking freak.” his hot breath fans over your pulse, thrusts hitting you deeply and practically unforgiving with every slap of skin. though the language isn’t his own, he tries and that you can appreciate. the american accent still peaks through with every syllable, which makes it strangely hotter to hear.

your nails dig into his broad shoulders, trying your best to not make so much noise. after all, you were supposed to hate this man. america’s sweetheart was quite the asshole, even borderline sexist. “see? all you’re good for his to take my fucking dick and make me dinner.” no take that back, he was hella sexist.

as you bounce on his cock, your breasts provide a wonderful show for soldier boy. earlier he had taken the time to mark them up so that when you wore those low cut tops, people could see you were accounted for. though now that ben thinks about it, no bitch of his is gonna go out looking like some prostitute on the corner. you’ll be dressed properly, with no part of your chest showing. that’s for his eyes only.

his digits tug and pinch at your swollen buds, smirking as you whimper with every touch. “fucking slut, you really gonna let an american soil that exotic pussy?” ben knew that if this had been just talk, you’d slap him. argue how his perspective was outdated and unacceptable now, yet feeling how hard your walls squeeze him after using such vocabulary was hard to ignore. “hmm, maybe that’s what you need. just pure american made meat.”

you hold onto him for dear life at this point, smothering his face into your bosom. his words should put you in a fit of rage but your damn body betrays you. “solo estás demostrando mi punto.” he can feel your walls tighten again and that only feeds into his already big ego. “so that’s what you want? pathetic.”

the chair creaks under the weight of you both, close to breaking and though ben didn’t care much, he rather not deal with butcher’s bitching about breaking motel furniture. so with one arm, he keeps you steady on his cock while making his way to the bed. sitting down right at the edge so you remain in the same position. cause there were various positions soldier boy could do but cowgirl had to be in his top five. plus who is he to turn down being suffocated by your gorgeous tits?

you have yet to say any coherent words or much of anything aside from the sinful noises. he wonders what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours. his fingers grab a fistful of hair, forcefully tugging your head back as your eyes meet. “don’t make me speak that dirty language again, this is america.” a harsh slap meets your cheek, making you wince. “we speak english here and if i’m gonna fuck you, i’ll make sure you don’t forget that.”

his piercing gaze makes you squeeze around his shaft again, feeling your orgasm approach closer with each touch from him. “por f-favor,” you manage to choke out, whining when soldier boy stops his thrusts.

“what i fucking say huh?” you groan when he pulls you off his cock, pushing you onto the mattress on all fours. your ass lifted high into the air as he delivers the first slap. “speak english.” his dick is aching to be inside you but he had to hold back for now, you needed to know your place.

your face buried itself into the motel pillows, scratchy fabric brushing against your skin. butcher would be back soon and you knew soldier boy was nowhere near done with you. though you didn’t want him to stop entirely. “no no, who said you could hide that pretty face of yours?” once again, soldier boy grabs a fistful of your hair, looking down at your features. “don’t tell me we need to start with the basics.” you tried shaking your head but that only made his grip on your hair hurt more. “you got a mouth, speak, bitch.”

swallowing the lump in your throat, your eyes meet his, despite your vision blurring a bit. “i’ll speak e-english, promise!” it’s not a real promise, for you couldn’t get rid of a language you loved so much.

soldier boy chuckles, letting go of your hair and shifting down to the globes of your ass. spreading the cheeks apart to see how swollen your pussy was, hole gaping as it was already molded to his shape and size. “hmm, you’ll say anything just to feel me again huh? Qué chica tan sucia.”

he watches as you look back, pushing your ass against him in hopes the teasing might end. you needed him, craved to feel him every second you both were apart. “fine, guess i’ll give you what i want. i was always curious,” without warning, he slides right back in and smirks when you whimper. “if i get you pregnant, is our kid gonna look more like me or you?”

·̩͙།† ͝ ︶ ͝ ⏝ ͝ ︶ ͝ †། ·̩͙

Please note; I do not allow translations or redistributions of my work by anyone else except myself. MDNI, if your account is ageless or empty, I will block you !! Minors are NOT welcome here.

[rambling-about-stuff]

I’m speaking my truth, every time I see fanart of dnp as girls and they write Dan’s name as Dani… i wish they had put Yazzy. Phil is still Fiona, please put Yazzy🙏

[theghostavocadoe]

Kadaj and Loz walk with Marlene to school.

Yazoo only doesn’t join them because I think he would refuse to get out of bed unless he has to

"Why couldn't we drive today?" Marlene asked, her voice bordering on a whine. The walk to school was long and winded, and her little legs were beginning to tire.

"Gas is expensive, Marl." Kadaj answered her matter-of-factly with a shrug.

The pout he received was ignored. "Can't you just steal it like you did last time?"

Loz turned to give Kadaj a raised eyebrow. The other spluttered. "Hey, we promised to never speak of that again!"

Marlene giggled mischievously, jogging around to hide from Kadaj behind Loz's legs. Kadaj merely shook his head in exasperation and sighed.

Loz scooped up Marlene and set her on his shoulders. The younger girl yelped and giggled as she was sat down, grinning from ear to ear.

"We're almost there! You can do it!" Loz encouraged, holding onto Marlene's ankles.

"C'mon, Lozzie! Can't you do your super speedy thing?" Marlene asked.

Loz shook his head. "Nope. Papa said I can't do that while carrying someone."

"Awwww..." Marlene pouted yet again and rested her chin on the top of Loz's head.

The corner of the school building was coming into view. Kadaj stretched his arms above his head, attempting to distract himself from how much he missed his bike.

He looked over at the other two and noticed Marlene gazing at him with big eyes full of wonder. He knew exactly what that face entailed.

Kadaj raised his hand to Marlene's level and let it dissipate into mist. Marlene gasped and immediately stuck her tiny hands into it, letting the wisps curl in-between her fingers. Kadaj didn't quite understand her fascination with the mist, but if it made her happy, then who was he to complain?

"It's cold," Marlene pointed out as she frantically waved at the mist, watching it disperse before converging together again. "Why is it cold?"

"If you pay attention in school, you'll learn why."

His hand solidified once again, and he used it to ruffle Marlene's hair. The girl giggled. Loz picked her up and set her on the sidewalk.

"Think you can make it the rest of the way?" Loz asked her.

"Yup!"

Kadaj waved her off. "Go on then."

She immediately took off, turning around while running to wave at the two. "Say hi to Yazzy for me!"

"We will!" Loz answered.

Only once she was safely inside the school building did the two turn around and begin their trek home. Mission accomplished.

[bookofmirth]

Since you don’t think there will be a written mating ceremony, maybe it’ll have something to do with Nesta going to the Prison or using the harp? I’m not sure, but I’m looking really forward to everything. I know there are some theories that Nesta has the ability to manipulate lightning and might charge Bryce with it. Do you have any predictions on what the bonus scenes, for Ruhn/Lidia & Nesta & Azriel, might be about?

You know, I thought about it some more, and maybe it's more possible than my initial reaction implied. Because as much as people like to claim that the bonus chapters don't matter, we know that they do. They get posted online, we all read them, they were written by the author. And so if that were to happen, it would make sense to happen in a bonus chapter so that 1) acotar-only people could just find it online without having to read and 2) it would be out of the way of the regular narrative for cc-only people who don't really care.

However, it still would be odd to me given that Azriel was named, not Cassian. And given the fact that she has avoided publishing those scenes thus far. I've also had thoughts about POV and how people misuse that phrase but I'll save it for another post.

I don't know if I have any solid theories yet, I've been too busy SCREAMING into bookclub, but I do think that the one with Nesta, Bryce, and Azriel could serve as a bridge from hofas to acotar5. Anything major to the plot of either book wouldn't be in a bonus, but... I could see it being a conversation between the three of them about the *implications* of something happening in hofas? For example, if Az gives up Truthteller, he'd be feeling a type of way about it. Nesta seems to have a connection to/understanding of him that his old friends don't. Bryce would be who he's giving it to.

Or, perhaps it's about the Trove? If Yazzy is right about Bryce's tattoo being the fourth trove item, the trove has featured much more heavily in acotar, not CC. They could have a discussion about what to do about the tattoo/Horn.

With Ruhn/Lidia GOSH there are so many options. Can they still speak psychically? What if it's a super sad pining scene? Again, it probably wouldn't be super important to the plot, but rather to their characters/emotions.

I don't think that the Bryce&Nesta&Az chapter or the Danika&Bryce chapters will have anything to do with ships. I don't think that any of them will have anything to do with ships that aren't already canon, especially.

Sorry this is just a braindump of ideas! Maybe when the cackling in my head dies down I'll be more coherent hahahaaaaa

[nere1des]

“I count no day as lived unless I have loved a woman, slain a foeman, and eaten a fine meal . . . and the days that I have lived are as numberless as the stars in the sky. I make of slaughter a thing of beauty, and many a tumbler and fire dancer has wept to the gods that they might be half so quick, a quarter so graceful. I would tell you the names of all the men I have slain, but before I could finish your dragons would grow large as castles, the walls of Yunkai would crumble into yellow dust, and winter would come and go and come again.” — george rr martin, a storm of swords

[ gael garcia bernal, cis man, fifty four, he/him ] for the crimes of piracy EMILIO IBARRA / PAJARITO is hereby wanted. those who surrender them dead or alive to the crown will receive TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN pounds. they’re famously known to be part of the THE STORM’S EYE as their CAPTAIN. before engaging be warned as they can be ARROGANT AND OBSESSIVE, but if you’re lucky they’ll be ARTFUL AND DISARMING. legends say that when you speak their name you’re reminded of A WIDE, LAZY GRIN PERMANENTLY ETCHED ON HANDSOME, WEATHERBEATEN SKIN, A POCKETFUL OF HALF-FORMED CONTINGENCY PLANS, EACH MORE HAREBRAINED THAN THE LAST, BLOOD LOSS? NO I KNOW EXACTLY WHERE IT IS. // yazzy, twenty-four, she/her, est.

STATISTICS.

full name: emilio luis ibarra.

nicknames: milo, leo.

occupation: captain for the storm’s eye.

age: fifty-four.

birthplace: on the banks of heroica veracruz, new spain (present day veracruz, mexico).

gender: cis man.

pronouns: he/him.

orientation: deeply and whorishly bisexual.

preferred weapons: a morrocan style nimcha, or scimitar, and an italian stiletto, both of which have solid gold custom-made hilts in the shape of beautiful, naked women. that, and a flintlock that he stole from a dead englishman.

PHYSICAL.

faceclaim: gael garcia bernal.

hair: messy and black, with shoots of silver. usually grown out, it curls just below his ears.

height: 6’0.

build: lithe and lean.

scent: salt water spray, gunpowder, a vague, lingering scent of amber and sandalwood.

dominant hand: ambidextrous.

scars: oh my god so many.

distinguishing features: an unusually endearing smile, warm, inviting brown eyes, a cochineal red coat stolen from an spanish naval officer (it suited him better, tbh), a rotation of silver and gold rings on the ring and index fingers of each hand.

PERSONA.

positive traits: charming, creative, determined, loyal.

negative traits: arrogant, obnoxious, immature, vengeful.

hobbies: sword fighting, general sluttery, wood carving when he’s bored.

alliance: himself, the crew of the storm’s eye, and sikander e sani.

element: fire.

zodiac: leo sun, pisces moon, leo rising.

temperament: choleric-sanguine.

personal goals: die fighting or fucking, find some wonderful, ideally legendary, treasure on the way.

HISTORY.

tw: death.

if asked, emilio ibarra would weave a grandiose tale of his birth on the foamy shores of the atlantic, beneath a blanket of countless stars, like a handful of salt spilled over a dress of black silk. his, he claims, was a life foretold by soothsayers and fortune tellers, who spoke tales of a marauder who would take to the waves as if born a bastard son of neptune. 

to be sure, it was all lies. but where was the fun in something so pedestrian as the truth?

besides, there was a grain of truth. albeit, a small grain, but a grain nonetheless. he was a bastard, yes, but he certainly wasn’t fathered by a primordial sea god.

his father, francisco manuel de medina e ibarra, was a wealthy, spanish-born dye merchant. francisco, like many of his rank and birth, believed himself the sort of man who was owed certain things. a palatial estate near the city square, a set of three square-jawed sons to take over the family business, a wife, of the lovely and unassuming variety, who would keep a beautiful home and instruct francisco’s two daughters to do the same.

and, of course, when francisco happened to get a serving girl, marisol, in the family way, he believed, genuinely so, that any responsibility he owed to his base-born son would end with the death of the boy’s mother.

no one blamed him, of course, when marisol (who, for proprietary’s sake, had been moved out of the house once she began to show, and into a small, respectable residence near the harbor) passed from yellow fever and seven-year-old emilio was then sent to the orphanage housed in the church of our lady of the eternal sacrament. the child, milo as his mother called him, was agreed by all to be a stain on the legacy of an otherwise great man.

what a surprise for this great man, when, seven years later, a boy who wore his face was standing in his study, borrowed flintlock in one hand, a worn knapsack, spilling over with silver coins and his wife’s jewels, in the other. one son lay dead, the other bleeding at the foot of the door. by the time francisco leveled the musket in his shaking hands, emilio had disappeared.

he cut through alleys, the gardens of old women. the sound of barking dogs, let loose by night watchmen, accompanied the beat of his racing heart. by providence or just dumb luck, the ship he snuck onto failed to notice him tucked underneath a tarp.

his compatriots, three other orphan boys, like him, seeking entry into a local crew of nascent criminals, were hanged for their crimes. their bodies swung in the warm, summer sun, rotting, as emilio’s ship took sail and left the veracruz harbor.

[pages-of-us]

The Christmas Trip

Twice a year, the Zane family made their way to Colorado to visit Ralph’s parents. Unlike Andrew’s extended family gatherings, which were formal and stiff (thanks in no small part to Great Aunt Viola’s scrutinizing gaze), the Vleugels household was vibrant, warm, and brimming with love. The house was large but unassuming, nestled in a quiet neighborhood where everyone knew everyone.

When Ralph and Andrew pulled up the driveway with the kids in tow, the front door burst open, and Ralph’s parents, Mrs. and Mr. Vleugels, emerged, their smiles wide and welcoming.

“Halmeoni! Harabeoji!” Yazmin shrieked, leaping out of the car and bolting toward her grandparents.

“Yazzie!” Mrs. Vleugels opened her arms just in time to catch Yazmin, who barreled into her with the force of a tiny tornado. “Oh, my sweet girl, look at you! Have you gotten taller?”

“Probably not,” Ellias mumbled under his breath as he grabbed his backpack from the car.

“Ellias, behave,” Andrew said firmly, though his lips twitched with amusement.

Elliot, always the quiet one, walked up to greet his grandparents with a polite bow. “Hi, Halmeoni. Hi, Harabeoji. It’s good to see you again.”

Ralph’s father grinned and ruffled Elliot’s hair. “You boys getting ready to beat your uncle Gunho at games again?”

Ellias perked up. “Wait—he’s here?”

“He’s setting up the console right now,” Mr. Vleugels replied.

Ellias and Elliot exchanged a look before darting into the house, their backpacks forgotten on the porch.

Andrew lingered by the car, stretching his back after the long drive. Ralph sidled up beside him, sliding an arm around his waist. “Ready to be smothered?”

“I’d like to see them try,” Andrew teased, though his voice carried warmth.

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

Inside, the Vleugels home was a sensory overload of nostalgia and comfort. The living room smelled faintly of vanilla from the cookies Mrs. Vleugels had baked, and soft Korean music played from the stereo. Framed photos of Ralph and Gunho as children adorned the walls, alongside new pictures of the Zane kids, sent religiously by Andrew every few months.

Mrs. Vleugels immediately turned her attention to Andrew. “Andrew, my sweet son, you’re too skinny again! Are you even eating?”

Andrew chuckled, holding up his hands. “I promise I’m eating, Halmeoni.”

“Not enough!” she declared, ushering him to the couch. “Sit. Eat. You must be starving after that drive.”

Despite his protests, a plate of cookies appeared in Andrew’s lap within seconds. Yazmin giggled from her perch beside her grandmother, sneaking cookies off his plate.

“You know,” Yazmin declared, crumbs dusting her cheeks, “you’re my favorite grandma.”

“Am I?” Mrs. Vleugels asked, feigning surprise.

Yazmin nodded vigorously. “Dadda’s family is kind of...uh…” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Intense?” Ralph supplied from the doorway.

Yazmin grinned. “Yeah, intense! But you’re fun.”

Mrs. Vleugels laughed, her hand on Yazmin’s cheek. “And you’re my ray of sunshine.”

Andrew, quietly observing the exchange, smiled softly. His mind wandered to how different this was from his own family’s holiday gatherings, where formality ruled. Here, the conversation flowed naturally, and no one ever had to hide their true selves.

A little while later, Mr. Vleugels, who usually sat in comfortable silence, leaned toward Andrew. The older man had always been a man of few words, but today he seemed particularly eager to speak. “I have something for you, Andrew,” he said, his thick accent giving his words a certain gravitas.

Andrew looked up, surprised. “Oh, you didn’t have to—”

But Mr. Vleugels waved him off. He handed Andrew a small, carefully wrapped package.

Opening it, Andrew found a novel—The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern—and a small book on writing. He blinked in surprise. “You remembered that I write?”

Mr. Vleugels nodded slowly. “You have a way with words. I thought you’d enjoy this.”

Andrew was touched. He had always admired Mr. Vleugels’ quiet wisdom. “Thank you, Harabeoji. This means a lot.”

Ralph, who had been listening in, smiled at his father’s gesture. “See? Told you they get you, princess.”

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

In the basement, Ellias and Elliot were awestruck by Uncle Gunho’s gaming setup: neon-lit keyboards, a massive monitor, and a collection of games so vast it could rival a store.

“Whoa,” Ellias whispered. “You’re like...a gaming god.”

Gunho smirked. “Runs in the family. You boys ready to play?”

Ralph wandered in, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this? Gunho, don’t tell me you’re corrupting my kids already.”

“Already?” Gunho shot back. “They’re naturals. Bet they’ve got your skills.”

Elliot glanced at Ralph. “Wait, Daddy, you’re good at games?”

Ralph shrugged nonchalantly. “I used to be decent. Had to give it up when life got busy.”

Gunho snorted. “Decent? You used to wipe the floor with me, hyung.”

Ellias and Elliot turned to Ralph, their eyes wide.

“Daddy, you have to play with us!”

Ralph hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s been years…”

Moments later, Ralph was in the middle of an intense match, his sons shouting instructions on either side. Gunho, for once, was on the losing end.

“Daaaaaaad!” Gunho groaned as Ralph claimed another victory. “Why are you like this?”

Ellias high-fived his father. “You’re awesome, Daddy!”

Elliot nodded. “Definitely cooler than Uncle Gunho.”

Gunho threw a pillow at Elliot, laughing.

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

When dinner rolled around, the table was laden with steaming bowls of kimchi jjigae, platters of bulgogi, and side dishes that seemed endless. Andrew was already full from the snacks Mrs. Vleugels had insisted he eat earlier, but she was relentless.

“Andrew, try this. And this. Oh, you have to taste this one!”

“Halmeoni, I’m going to explode,” Andrew said, his voice strained but amused.

“Good!” she replied cheerfully. “That means you’ll have enough energy to chase after Yazmin!”

Ralph leaned over, grinning. “Told you this would happen.”

Andrew shot him a look but couldn’t help smiling.

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

Later that night, after the kids had gone to bed, Ralph and Andrew sat on the back porch with Ralph’s parents. Gunho had joined them, a rare moment when the whole family could relax.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my life,” Andrew admitted, leaning back in his chair.

Mrs. Vleugels laughed. “That’s how you know you’re loved.”

Gunho nodded. “I don’t get why hyung doesn’t bring you guys more often. You’re way more fun than he is.”

“Hey!” Ralph protested, though his arm was draped comfortably around Andrew’s shoulders.

Andrew smiled, his heart full. This was what family should feel like—warm, welcoming, and full of love. Here, in Colorado, he never doubted his place.

From the house, a faint giggle echoed, followed by Yazmin’s unmistakable voice.

“She’s still awake,” Andrew sighed.

“She always is,” Ralph replied.

Andrew rested his head on Ralph’s shoulder. “This trip was a good idea.”

“It always is with you guys,” Ralph murmured, his voice soft with affection.

[rlevine]

c'mon, yazzy. you can be the zak of the group and tell it to come through you to speak

real talk, who wants to take a ghost tour or do a self guided one around/near sedona? i can bring my spirit box and emf reader. it'd be really fun or really fucked up to do it after getting high but you know what... 🤷

[therealyaspen]

I just think they're neat :)

[ask-subwayboss-dash]

Okay so uh I follow @ask-n on my main and long story short an idea started rotting in my brain and I just kinda started writing. It's unedited, it's not canon, and it kinda spoils some of Dash's backstory but I wanted to post it anyway yk?

---

She should not be helping this strange purple-clad human from the sky.

Of course, she knew that. Humans were not to be trusted. They were creatures who would destroy the world if it meant they would glean something from it. Their machines made of metal and lightning poisoned the air and water. They tore down forests like her own home to build their flat-stone hellscapes. They fought, hurt, captured, and mistreated pokemon. Humans were evil creatures who thought of nothing but themselves, and she had seen this with her own eyes.

She would not allow her pup to become like them. He was important, he had an important destiny that would protect them all. He could not become like the other humans, greedy and cruel. She’d found him young enough that he knew nothing of the humans aside from what she had to tell him–and she had nothing good to say. Inviting another into the forest, giving them shelter or allowing them near her pups at all could shatter that, risk everything.

Still, something about leaving this one out in the storm when they already seemed injured… it didn’t sit right with her. She tried to convince herself that it was because of the Quilava, stubbornly refusing to leave his human Trainer in spite of the rain. He would only go with her to shelter if she carried his human and took her with, too.

“I’m not leaving Dash,” he’d said, and she nearly left him there to deal with the consequences of his own idiocy, but… something about this human felt different. Felt almost like N, like they were important in a similar way he was.

She was either getting soft or stupid.

🟣 🟣 🟣

Dash woke to the sound of rain and the sensation of being mostly dry. She blinked and went to push herself up, wondering when they had fallen asleep. It was when they realized that there were rocks digging into their hands that she realized that something was weird. “Wha… huh? Where…?”

Cinder jumped up and chirped something at her, before booping his nose into hers. “Pff, glad to see you’re here with me, buddy,” they said. She patted him on the head, and he leaned into the touch. “Wherever ‘here’ is…”

Wearily, Dash looked around. They were in some kind of cave, and it was raining purrloins and lillipups outside. Her hat was, thankfully, close to where they were laying. In less fortunate news, there was a sleeping zoroark and zorua just across the cave. Dash’s fingers curled tighter around their coat. Shit, this was a sticky situation. 

Actually, that was putting it lightly. Very lightly. They had no idea where the hell they were or how they’d even gotten there, and their only two options were go out in the palpitoad-strangling rain to wander around and hope to Arceus she could find a pokemon center before she caught pneumonia or something, or stay here and be mauled when the mother(?) zoroark woke up and found an intruder in her den.

Short version? Dash was fucked.

“You sleep for a really long time. Are all humans like that?”

Dash turned around when she heard the voice. “Huh?”

They almost thought she was still dreaming. Standing in front of her was N, but… but it couldn’t be, because he was a kid. Dash knew N as the guy in his late twenties who, some-fucking-how, had managed to become a friend of hers and Hilda’s. Who was, even after everything that had happened, a really kind guy. N was not this kid standing before her with curious eyes and a tense, cautious posture.

“Momma says not to go near you. She says you’re dangerous. But Cinder says you’re really nice! It’s kinda confusing…” 

Dash isn’t sure what to say. Thankfully, the boy keeps talking. “He says your name is Dash, and he says you like battling. But you don’t fight, you tell pokemon what to do. I think that’s weird. He says that the pokemon like you and that they like fighting for you.” He stops abruptly and just stares at Dash.

The silence feels like being buried alive, so Dash breaks it. “I, uh… well, you know my name, can I know yours?” she asks.

He nods. “Mhm! I’m N.”

What the hell.

Still, Dash gives him a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, N. Do you happen to know how I got here?”

“Yuh-huh! Momma carried you here, she said you fell from the sky and that you’d get sick if she just left you! True and I were really surprised, Momma really doesn’t like humans. She says they’re mean and scary and hurt pokemon!”

“...They can be. A lot of them are.” Dash pauses and bites their lip, considering. Then she takes a deep breath. “N? I know you don’t know me at all, but can you make me a promise?”

N tilts his head to the side. “What promise?”

“I need you to promise me that if anyone comes to try and make you leave the forest, you won’t do it. No matter how nice they are, I need you to promise you won’t go with them.”

N giggles. “Why would I wanna leave the forest? I’d have to leave Momma, and True, and all my friends! That doesn’t sound like fun!”

“Just… please?”

“...You look sad. Why are you sad? If it’ll make you not sad anymore, I promise I won’t let anyone make me leave the forest!”

[taurusicorn2400]

What's up my homies. Now this is a #ad, but I'm a writer apart of this awesome project called Realm of The Walking Dead! It's a fanfic on ao3 and it has canon characters and ocs. It's fabulously written, and if you lile seeing ocs interact with canon characters this is the fic for you! We aren't currently accepting ocs, but we are still accepting more people into the community to read and give feedback and just all around vibe.

We are currently writing s2 of the fic, the prolog and chapter 1 are out, so go ahead and check them out and maybe join the discord!

Fanfic Link starting with s1

Discord Link to vibe with us

Rotwd tumblr link if you got any questions

[unfortunate-brat]

sundown

pairing: dbf!jensen ackles x sirenita!reader

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: you finally meet the guy who’s face is plastered all over the town’s bilboards in the most unexpected way…

warnings: getting caught, inappropriate thoughts, slight flirting

yazzy’s comments: girl in banner does not reflect reader! simply aesthetics. also, i am accepting blurbs and asks about this idea. follow @unfortunate-bratfics for fic updates 💕

beware: minors or ageless blogs who interact with this will have their throats ripped out !!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────────

as the waves tickle your feet, you close your eyes one last time as the sun begins to set. it would be the last time you’d be home tonight. you’ve already said your goodbyes to friends and needed to say one last farewell to the ocean.

your fingers dance along the tiny waves, enjoying the cool salt water on your skin despite being submerged not too long ago. the salty sea drying onto your sun kissed skin, which thankfully wouldn’t suffer a burn. thank your sunscreen for that one.

as the sun sets, you’re up on your feet, gathering the towel while walking up the steps to head into the room just above. technically speaking, the room was on the second floor but the layout of the home was a bit different from the norm. your father wanted the ground floor to feel more like a basement area and the second floor to feel like the first one. his words. though try as you can, you’ll never understand the vision but are thankful you have your own beach access.

however your access to the beach also gives you a glimpse into the neighboring home, specifically the one that was what appeared to be an office. each step you take upon the wooden stairs leading up to your bedroom got you a closer look at what’s going on.

one hand is pressed against the glass, along with the unbuttoned blouse of someone who’s struggling to keep up as a brute force pushes her against it with harsh thrusts. though the woman’s eyes are closed, yours happens to make contact with the man behind her. his dark forest pools of green staring into yours and you can only smirk.

what your neighbors do is none of your concern but seeing him get caught fucking some girl is kinda funny. surprisingly however, his thrusts don’t stop despite the eye contact between you both. in fact it gets even harsher as the girl’s screams are slightly muffled. you can only guess he got turned on by the sight, maybe its the thrill of being caught. or you in the bikini, leaving little to the imagination. but that’s just the delusion talking.

you keep walking back to your room, stripping in the bathroom as the shower turns on with a cool spray of water. whoever that was, you’d most likely never see them again.

*

“everything packed?” your father questioned as plates are set down in front of you both. tonight’s dish was molé rojo, accompanied by some white rice and for your plate only, grilled onions. typically you didn’t make special requests for the kitchen staff but had expressed a craving for this childhood staple before you left home.

“for the most part, just need one more suitcase.” as far as you knew, this was a five year trip abroad to study in Mexico. there you’d take courses on the culture, touch up on some spanish and get in touch with your roots. something your father wanted you to have access to as he didn’t have the best upbringing. yet knew, you should know where you came from. it was paid for by him as a graduation gift, though you wonder if he simply wanted the house to himself for once.

you couldn’t check on your room while gone, so all valuables were locked in a safe. those you couldn’t take with you at least. your fingers fiddled with the shell charm on your necklace, a gift from your father when you were a little girl who was non stop obsessing over little mermaid. your favorite character being not ariel herself but the sea witch, cause who didn’t wanna be a badass with magical powers?

“honestly mija, this trip is gonna be good for you.” your father takes a bite of his food, blessing himself for choosing the best chefs in the world cause it tasted like home. “i don’t want you to grow up being disconnected because of my upbringing and plus,” he offers a reassuring smile despite the fact his only child is leaving him for five years! “you’ll be staying with family. that’s who matters at the end of the day.”

you had been to mexico only twice in your life, each trip cut short due to your grandmother fighting with your father over little things. yet what you can recall is that mexico’s beauty was something magical itself and you wanted to experience that again. though your abuela may not like you for being the spitting image of your father, you hoped within the five years those feelings might change. maybe she just needed more time to get to know you.

just as your father was about to say another word, the doorbell rang. the butler quick to open the door and reveal who it was, though you focused on the food in front of you. sometimes your father’s associates popped by the house and steal your father away for something, yet as footsteps approach you can’t help but be curious. “it’s delicious and i know you need something better than burgers in your diet.”

you look up to see its the man from earlier, who you caught fucking some girl. only now he’s dressed in some jeans and a black button up that barely was holding onto his biceps. one little flex and you’re certain the fabric will rip. “mija, this is our neighbor jensen ackles.”

you’re quick to stand and shake his hand, noting how his own practically was swallowing yours. now with a name to the face, you recalled all those billboards around town with a law firm on it.

“nice to meet you sweetheart.” god even his accent was enough to make any fabric be ripped to shreds, specifically your own underwear.

you nodded, sitting back down and resuming to eating your food. stealing glances every now and then at your semi famous neighbor. you’ve heard he’s lived there for years but never caught him in his own home till today or seen the dude around honestly.

one of the staff brought him a plate and jensen was slightly hesitant. growing up in the south, there wasn’t much diversity in food and as to no surprise the man grew up on hot dogs and burgers. rarely would his family choose to eat or cook anything else, too worried they wouldn’t get the right item.

with one bite of both the meat and rice, he tries the dish. the flavors of the red chile and some other spices hitting his tongue, which gets absorbed by the rice. a rich flavor no doubt and jensen himself is surprised. its not overwhelmingly spicy which was a fear of his, sometimes he can’t handle spice.

and while jensen was discovering other food outside pure american with his tongue, you had tried your best not to stare at him too much. the way his stubble highlighted his jawline, twitching slightly with every bite. looking far more handsome than those billboards spread across town.

“seems like you’re enjoying yourself there jay, there’s more than enough if you’d like seconds or some to take home.” your father chuckles as jensen nodded in agreement, watching his buddy eat more of the food.

you simply smirked, knowing that after that little workout earlier in his office, he had to be starving. excusing yourself, you offer your father a hug and wave goodbye to jensen. tomorrow was going to be a busy day and you rather go to bed early.

retreating upstairs, you prepare the final suitcase and take a look around your room. a place that would be sealed in time to this very moment, till you returned home. the flight was sometime around 8am and you’d need some sleep to be there at 5am, per your father’s insistence to be there early.

changing into something more comfortable, you open the bedroom door and spot jensen in the hallway. his figure towering over your own as he walks out of the bathroom. a small smirk on his lips as they roam over your figure. “sleepy already?”

“long day tomorrow.” you managed to mumble, noting his teasing tone. “you heading back home mr.ackles?” addressing him so formally seemed foreign but the glimmer in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“yeah, got some stuff to take care of in the office.” he has to keep the dirty thoughts at bay, the age difference was too much and as a high profile lawyer, he knows that path was destructive. but that doesn’t mean jensen can’t flirt just a bit. “thank you for not overreacting about earlier, some neighbors get hysterical.”

you know the age difference is too significant to ignore and part of you wants to tease back but its risky. your father is downstairs and he can easily come upstairs at any second. then again, you’ll be gone for five years. it won’t matter. “it’s not a big deal, you’re a man who has needs.” you simply shrug your shoulders. “hope you gave her needs some attention to.”

with that, you entered the bathroom and completely misses the way his jaw clenched as the door closes.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────────

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[vivalakalos]

Hello, hello! Welcome to my funky little story blog. This is a pokemon fanfiction in the form of an ask blog. I'll tell you that it follows an idea of a "bad ending" for the XYZ arc of the anime, that it is very divergent from canon in a few ways, and that I am incapable of writing unhappy endings. Other than that, well, you'll have to see for yourself.

If you'd like to check out my other stuff, my main blog is @therealyaspen, I mostly just reblog stuff I like. I have a less story-driven ask blog for an OC, @ask-subwayboss-dash, if you want to check that out!

Finally, I want to tag a few blogs that inspired me to do this! @hyrule-kingdom-updates, the first story askblog I found. It's a(fairly dark) Zelda BoTW/AoC fic featuring tons of rats. Next is @better-than-one, another BoTW-centric one where the readers are fairies who get into all kinds of shenanigans. And last but not least, @ask-n, a pre-story blog for everyone's favorite feral kiddo! All of them are huge inspirations, and I admire each and every one of them so much! If any of y'all have advice I'd love to hear it I really want this to succeed vndkvnsl

[ask-subwayboss-dash]

Welcome to the ask blog!

Thanks for checking it out! This is an ask blog for an original Subway Boss character. They will appear in @pokemon-odyssey-official eventually, but it’ll be a while... Wanna know more than that? You’ll have to ask! Before you do, though, please take a look at the carrd for the blog! I figured it was a better way of going about this than just making a super long post lmao.

Also obligatory bl*nkshippers dni I will hit you with a train.

Everyone else, I hope you have a good time with the blog! :D

[taurusicorn2400]

ITA PRIDE MONTH!!! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!?! ITS TIME TO REMEMBER THAT CLEM IS CANONICALLY BISEXUAL AND WHOEVER YOY SHIP HER WITH MAKES THAT SHIP A QUEER RELATIONSHIP YIPPEE!

[unfortunate-brat]

Nosy

pairing: sam winchester x latina!reader

word count: 410

warnings: angst, implied violence, hair pulling, weird tension

yazzy’s comments: was feeling some sam winchester lately and I haven't written about him in like 3 years. honorable mention @stereotypicalbarbie

18+, must have age in bio to interact. minors and ageless accounts will be blocked !! 💌 follow @unfortunate-bratfics for just new posted imagines !!

"so, you just thought to do...what exactly?" sam can't help but lightly smirk at you, having just caught him at a motel. like he doesn't live in them all the time. but he notes how your eyes went from him to the leather jacket on the chair, clearly not his. it's way too small and looks like it's for a girl. "you wasted your gas on what? a hunch? dean sending his little bitch to check up on me now?"

there's something in his eyes, almost sinister and you're certain it can't be anything good. besides, sam winchester was the kindest. he wouldn't be so rude. what was wrong with him? "you can speak now."

sam's words bring you out of your thoughts, focusing on how he slowly stood up. towering over your frame despite your height not even being so short, yet you don't move. "sam please." you whisper, unsure of what to say really. dean didn't know you were even here. "you haven't been home in weeks, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." that's when the younger winchester chuckles darkly.

"why wouldn't i be? maybe I just needed a break from you guys, always fucking arguing. just fuck him for fuck's sake!" you flinch at his tone, trying to stay calm but everything in you is screaming to leave.

"and you don't call, so sorry I wanted to do a wellness check!" you shout back, noting how sam only laughed. was he insane? "is that a crime?" no maybe you were insane for yelling at him.

"I'm not a kid."

"no one said you were and if you want to be left alone next time, just say so. not like we don't have the technology to send a message." shaking your head, you're about to head out when he grabs your wrist.

"who said we were done?" sam pulls you close to him, his other free hand grabbing a fistful of hair. "I gotta make sure we rehearse what you're going to tell my brother, cause you won't keep your mouth shut." there's no way for you to escape his hold as sam drags you to the bed. tossing you down on the mattress. "plus, since you're so nosy, I might as well come clean." the motel door opens and you spot a dark haired brunette, her eyes immediately falling on you as she holds a blade in her right hand. "you remember ruby right?"

·̩͙།† ͝ ︶ ͝ ⏝ ͝ ︶ ͝ †། ·̩͙

Please note; I do not allow translations or redistributions of my work by anyone else except myself. MDNI, if your account is ageless or empty, I will block you !! Minors are NOT welcome here.