#and i tried removing the watermark please look away

[choi-soobin]

BEOMGYU & TAEHYUN ✦ ELLE Korea

#moacentral #tomorrow x together #beomgyu #taehyun #edit #the coloring is all over the place im sorry #and i tried removing the watermark please look away #ANYWAY THE WONG KAR WAI POSTERS (??) #THEY DID THIS FOR ME

[onlymingyus]

Your Mess

header edited by me (@chogiwapadada) do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; jeon wonwoo x afab reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, fluff

warnings; mentions a fight, crying, reader and wonwoo are sad, comfort, unprotected sex, fingering (for a moment), aftercare

word count; 2.2k and some change

request; yes

a/n; another case of this was going to be a drabble and it got out of hand.

You had your back to Wonwoo as he entered the room. The tension was still so thick, he felt like he could cut it with a knife. He could see you were wearing one of his hoodies and that you were holding your pillow to your chest. What he could also see was the used tissues on the bed from where you had been crying, the sleeves pulled over your hands that were also still discolored and damp from wiping under your eyes. 

The two of you so rarely fought, so when you did it got ugly. Things were said that neither one of you meant but he knew he had gone too far. He had said things he would never say again. He had made that promise to himself and he would make that promise to you if you would accept it. He didn’t even blame you for kicking him out of the room when you had. Hell he would have too. 

That’s why when he tried the door later that same day and found it unlocked he was timid but still moved into the room. You didn’t look back even though you knew Wonwoo was in the room. The door had been locked for hours, you hadn’t wanted to see his face or hear his voice after the things the two of you had said. But then around 30 minutes ago you began to miss him more than you were mad at him and this was your olive branch, the unlocked door and he had taken it. 

The bed sank at Wonwoo’s weight as he sat behind you. His fingers rubbing together under the sleeves of his sweater as he sighed and tried to think of what to say. He wanted to touch you so bad. You never really realize how much you miss someone until you are forced to be away from them, even for a few hours. “Baby? I am so sorry. I…” 

You sniff back tears hearing his voice and Wonwoo’s heart breaks as his eyes widen. “No, oh my god. Please don’t cry, fuck. I am so fucking stupid. I don’t even remember why we started fighting. It got so out of hand. I just want to hold you and make this better. Please, god…please let me make this better?” 

Wonwoo moves closer and tests the waters by placing a hand against the middle of your back. When you don’t pull away but instead cry seemingly harder he can’t help himself as he pulls you into his arms and rests his head on your shoulder from behind as you lean back against him. “Baby please, I’m so sorry.” 

You feel his lips press to your cheek lightly as you lift your hand to press it against his cheek. His eyes close to the feeling of your touch but also your damp sleeve making him furrow his brows. “You need a new hoodie or a shirt. Something…that’s not wet.” You laugh catching Wonwoo off guard as he moves from you looking at you as you sniff back tears looking up at him finally. 

“What’s funny? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You shake your head as Wonwoo goes to the closet, taking down another of his hoodies before returning to you to toss it on the bed beside you. “I don’t want another hoodie right now Wonwoo.” He sighs and moves to squat on his heels in front of you looking up at you as he pushes your hair out of your face under your hood. 

“Then just tell me what you want, baby, and it’s yours. Because all I want is for you to not look at me like this. So sad, I don’t want you to cry anymore. I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. Have I said that?” You laugh into a choked cry as you nod. “Yeah you said that.” Wonwoo smiles and wipes his thumb under your eye wiping away more tears before he leans up to kiss your cheek then leans to press his lips gently to yours once. 

As he starts to pull away you grab his wrist as he cups your face and hold him closer with a small whine before you speak on his lips. “I want you to touch me, kiss me, hold me. Is that wrong? Is it stupid?” Wonwoo’s brows furrow as his chest tightens because it was all he had been wanting the entire day. The moment the door slammed in his face he wanted back in the room and for his lips to be on yours so he could apologize. 

“God, no baby. It’s not wrong or stupid. I love you so much.” You mutter on his lips that you love him too as he moves more to a standing position and leans you back on the bed before pulling from you. His eyes travel off you as you move back on the bed making more room for him before he watches you lift his hoodie from your body and lay it to the side leaving your upper body bare to him. 

A soft groan leaves Wonwoo’s mouth as he nods and tugs his own sweater from his body, discarding it on the floor before he crawls between your legs and presses his lips to your stomach before working the kisses upwards. Your fingers run through Wonwoo’s hair as his mouth gently presses to one of your breasts before his eyes meet yours as he kisses over your nipple making you smile as you lift your hips towards him. 

“Fuck…Wonwoo. I missed you.” He nods in agreement before moving to your other breast running his tongue along your skin making you arch your back towards him as you close your eyes. “Please Wonwoo.” He hums in question before kissing up your neck to your jaw and finally your mouth. “Tell me what you need from me baby. I said, ``Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

When you run your thigh between his legs to press against his erection that was already starting to become painful, Wonwoo groans on your lips and closes his eyes tightly. “You want my cock?” You nod and scratch your fingers along his sides as you whine into a kiss and rub your thigh along his shorts again making him hiss. “Baby...hang on. Shit, you have me so wound up.” 

You smile on Wonwoo’s lips making him laugh as he nips at your bottom lip pulling it out slightly before letting go. “Minx.” You laugh softly and watch him lean back from you as he pulls on your shorts and panties pulling them down your legs in one swift motion as you lift your hips and legs making it easier for him. 

Wonwoo shakes his head as he watches you move your legs to either side of him. His eyes falling between your legs making his mouth water at how wet you are for him. “God baby, you are killing me.” You watch as he manages to unceremoniously kick his shorts and boxers from his legs before he runs his hands along your legs up to your knees and into your inner thighs. When you shiver, Wonwoo smiles and lets one hand reach to run between your dripping folds making you whine. “Wonwoo…I want you.” 

“You have me baby.” You shake your head no and reach down to take his hand causing him to stop moving. “I want you in me.” Wonwoo’s brows furrow before he nods. “Are you sure you are ready?” You tilt your head incregiously at him before using your hand to slip his finger into your entrance so he can feel how wet you are making him groan. “Yeah okay…I just, fuck, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You watch him take his hand back and suck his fingers clean of you with a groan as he looks at you before moving from between your legs. “Come here babe.” You nod and take his hand as he sits against the headboard and sits you over his thighs. Looking down, Wonwoo groans as he pushes his cock towards your slit teasing your clit with his head making you jump and lift your hips. “Gotta sit on it if you want it in you, beautiful.” 

Wonwoo smirks a bit, more of his cocky bed demeanor coming back as you both get more comfortable. You shake your head with a sigh as you let him help you line up your body and sink your pussy over him slowly. Wonwoo watches your face as you take him in deep and completely as you sit fully on to his lap. Your head falling forward as your hands grip his shoulders, he tilts his head and reaches up taking a breath as he pushes your hair out of your eyes. “You okay?” 

When you nod and moan out a yes, Wonwoo bites his lip and moves his hands over your legs before gripping your hips helping you to start moving as you already start to see stars at how he feels inside you in his position. Your toes curl as you choke back a cry of his name when he starts to lift his hips to meet yours, making your entire body vibrate. “Oh shit, Wonwoo!” 

He leans forward to claim your lips with a loud groan as he feels himself getting closer to his own climax knowing you are getting close with how you are clenching around him. He knew your body almost as well as he knew his own. One of his hands stays steady on your hip helping you move as the other moves to cup your head keeping your mouth on his as Wonwoo groans loudly when he feels you tighten around him like a vice as your orgasm takes hold of you. 

You moan on his lips, your forehead resting against his as your fingers dig into his flesh leaving half moon imprints that he doesn’t even seem to notice. As you ride out your high, rolling your hips over him, Wonwoo groans your name, having to throw his head back as he can’t hold on any longer. You feel warmth spread through you as he cums into you and hisses out a groan through clenched teeth. “Fuck…” 

His hands move to stop your hips as his high starts to fade. Wonwoo licks his lips, catching his breath, when he feels your forehead rest against his shoulder. He can’t help but to smile to the feeling as he moves to wrap his arms around you, keeping you close for just a moment longer in this intimate position. ‘I love you y/n.” 

Smiling against Wonwoo’s skin, you press a kiss to his neck before leaning back in his arms. You run your fingers over his jaw before telling him that you love him too. He hums in appreciation as his eyes travel over your face. “Time for a bath.” You shake your head and whine making him laugh. “Don’t complain. We are stinky. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

You whine as he helps you move off him before he groans sliding off the bed moving towards the bathroom. You hear the bath start to run before he comes back and takes your hand leading you towards the tub helping you in. When you reach for him he leans down to kiss you. “I’ll join you in just a few minutes. I’m going to get you some water and get some sheets so I can change the bed before we lay back down.” 

Shaking your head as you lean back in the warm water, you watch Wonwoo scratch the back of his neck as he leaves the room to do his tasks, making you smile, your comfort was always on the forefront of his mind. You open your eyes to the sound of feet on tile as Wonwoo comes back in the room with a glass of ice water in his hand before he smiles at you. “Where is your water?” He laughs and shrugs, “Figured we’d share.” 

Wonwoo slips in the bath behind you with a content sigh before reaching for the glass making you take a sip before he does the same. His free hand cupping the warm water pouring it over your skin as you lean your head back on his shoulder. Wonwoo can’t help but to smile to himself as he sits the water to the side and wraps his arms around you just holding you in the bath. “I was going to tell you something.” 

You open one eye and glance at him, making Wonwoo laugh as he leans his head to look at you. “I was going to tell you that during the fight…I would have kicked me out of the room too. Also i promise, to me and you I will never say something so stupid again.” You look at Wonwoo fully frowning slightly before reaching up to run your hand along his cheek as you nod. “I believe you. I’m sorry too, you know.” 

Wonwoo nods and kisses your wrist as he leans his head before sighing. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore. I just wanted you to know that. Now, I just want to hold this beautiful woman in my arms and enjoy a warm bath after having some of the best sex in my life.” You laugh and shake your head and close your eyes again. “You are a mess Jeon Wonwoo.” He laughs and nods, “Your mess.” 

——————————————————

tag list; @bangchanbabygirlx @just-here-to-read-01 @hoshistar96 @niktwazny303 @strawberri-uyu @yeritheloml @tis-niki @noraehey @hoohoohope @otterpopchan @xuxibelle @foxdaisy @smileysuh @vern0nsworld @synthetickitsune@enhacolor @pandorashbox @yeosayang @httpswonwoosglasses @rubyscoups @onlywonus @gyuhanniescarat @yoonguurt @jwnghyuns

please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.  

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #caratwritersclub #thesvttown #svt smut #wonwoo angst #wonwoo fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt angst #svt fluff #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #wonwoo #seventeen #svt

[happyhappysparkle]

Spark's Art Commissions

Commisions are: OPEN

What I Draw

All Fallout, all the time. I've played every Fallout in existence (except that Tactics/BoS bullshit) and I love them all - yes, even 76. Fair warning: I'm less well-versed in Fallout 1 & 2, what with it having been a couple decades since I played either.

Interested in non-Fallout art? Doesn't hurt to ask.

Who I Draw

Your Fallout OCs and fave companions. As long as it's a character I can find enough reference for online, I'm good.

Looking for more examples of my work? Here they are.

Prices (USD)

More details on terms, what I will and won't draw, what I need from you, etc below the cut.

Payment is currently only available through PayPal. I'm looking into other payment options, such as Ko-Fi.

What I need from you

your faceclaim(s). If they're not someone I can easily google, I will need a few clear photos from different angles. Don't have a faceclaim for your OC yet? This is a great place to start looking

in-game screenshots are sometimes useful, so include those as well if they look anything like your OC. I will always prefer real human reference though, so please give me a faceclaim!

basic details: height, build, age, hair color/texture/style, eye color, identifying marks, etc etc etc. For companions, give me your headcanons on any details not provided in-game (or if you headcanon something differently), or I'll use my own if you don't have any

what outfit(s) they wear. If it's vanilla/Creation Club/Atomic Shop, just the in-game outfit names will usually do (i'll tell you if I need more)

any personality traits, background info, or quirks you want to share are absolutely GREAT and help me breathe a little more life into a character

if I'm drawing them with a companion, tell me a little about their dynamic

Will draw:

your Fallout OCs

their companion(s) (including ghouls)

weapons

some blood/gore/injury

sfw romantic content

Difficult areas:

curly hair - I'm trying, I'm learning, but it's harder and might take me longer

Super Mutants - haven't tried yet, but it can't be that hard

artistic nudity/pinups: I'm really out of practice, I make no guarantees

Won't draw:

anything racist/queerphobic/transphobic/bigoted/etc

minors

backgrounds. There's a reason this is a serparate, specialized job in animation and comic studios

nsfw romantic/sexual content (I don't have a problem with it, it's just way outside my wheelhouse. I'm learning.)

excessive blood/gore/injury (again, outside my wheelhouse)

creatures (same reason)

IMPORTANT STUFF

What you get

high-resolution digital art (A4/8x12" at 200dpi for busts, minimum of 12x12" at 200dpi for half body and up) suitable for printing for personal use only

If you'd like me to crop you an isolated closeup of a character for use as a profile pic, I'm happy to do so at no extra charge

my work always includes my signature watermark; you may not remove or modify it

you're not required to credit me if you share it on social media, but of course I very much appreciate it if you do, and a link back to my tumblr along with it will earn you my undying love and gratitude

What you DON'T get

the right to modify, redistribute, sell or in any way profit from the work or products derived from the work (you can share it on your socials or post it with your fanfic and that sort of thing, but you can't sell stuff or give things away with my art on it). If you are interested in licensing for prints, stickers, or any other digital or physical merchandise (even not-for-profit), please let me know so we can discuss licensing terms. The 'no redistribution' rule does include gifting. If you're interested in, for example, printing stickers with my art of your OC to hand out at comic con or something, please contact me.

copyright/intellectual property rights. It's still my original artwork. As such, I am free to modify and distribute it in any way I see fit, including for profit.

#hpysprkl draws #apple pencil mercenary #fallout #fanart #fallout 4 #fallout 3 #fallout new vegas #fallout 2 #fallout fanart #fallout art commissions #fallout commissions #commissions open #fallout 2 fanart #fallout 3 fanart #fallout nv fanart #fallout 76 #fallout 4 fanart #fallout 76 fanart

[peachybun-bun]

Good for You

the graphic above was edited by @chogiwapadada

do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; lee seokmin (dk - dokyeom) x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

notes/warnings; sub!dk, dom!reader

word count; 710 and some change

a/n; written for @onlyseokmins, hope you like this little spicy drabble. make sure you reblog as that makes tumblr go around.

You bite your lip as Seokmin’s fingers glide up your leg towards your knee. His lips pressing to your knee as your foot rests on his thigh. He smiles against your skin before glancing up at you meeting your eyes waiting for you to speak as he dares to let his fingers trail along your inner thigh. 

“You aren’t going to ask?” 

He grins and kisses the side of your knee before laying his cheek against your thigh still looking up at you before biting his lip so sweetly. “Can I touch you?” You feel a warmth pool in your stomach that makes its way to your core as he gives you such an innocent look while asking you something like that. 

“You are already touching me Seokmin. I need you to be more specific with your questions baby” His fingers brush at your inner thigh gently as his eyes never leave yours. You watch him take in a deep breath as he considers his words. “Can I take off your panties? I want to see you and touch your pussy. I want to make you feel good.” 

Such dirty words coming from someone who looks so pretty below you as he waits for your answer. You suck on your bottom lip as Seokmin’s nails gently scratch at your thigh as he almost becomes impatient but doesn’t dare move until you tell him that he can. “Go ahead.” 

He looked so small below you but when you give him the answer he wants and he moves his arms you watch as the muscles bulge under his tight t-shirt as he moves your leg from his and his fingers move to loop under the band of your panties before he pulls them down slowly. 

His eyes once transfixed on yours now linger between your legs as he watches what he is doing. You watch as his tongue rests between his lips ever so slightly as his hands trail down your legs before he lifts your feet one by one letting you step out of your panties before sitting them to the side. “So beautiful.” 

You fight the urge to feel embarrassed as he almost studies your body, his hands starting at your ankles sliding back up your legs. You suck in a breath to stop a moan as Seokmin’s thumbs press at your thighs when he looks up at you. “Will you lay down for me so I can see you?” 

Raising a brow you shake your head and take a single step back making him jut out his bottom lip before you reach out taking his chin into your hand. “You didn’t say please.” Seokmin groans as your thumb runs over his bottom lip before he catches the tip of your thumb with his teeth slightly before looking up at you with lust in his eyes. You watch his chest rise and fall quickly as he calms himself down and nods, “Please?” 

You can’t help but smirk as you lean down to press a kiss to his lips making him suck in a breath as you once again don’t give him nearly as much as he wants when you pull away when he tries to deepen the kiss. “Okay baby. I’ll lay down for you.” 

Seokmin groans his hand running over his jeans as you pull away from him once again only to lay on the bed in front of him. You lean back on your elbows lifting one leg as you spread your legs showing him what he wants so badly. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself, Seokmin.” 

He hisses out a sorry as his hand drops from his jeans and he moves across the floor towards the side of the bed, his hands sliding up your legs once again. “I won’t do it again, until you say so. Fuck...you are so pretty. I want to taste you so bad.” 

You shake your head and reach out to tap his nose making him look up at your eyes as his hand reaches your inner thigh. “You said touch. You need to ask for a taste.” He smiles and nods as he runs his index finger though your folds, his breath quickening at how wet you were for him. “I understand. I’ll be good…for you.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list; @m1ss-foodi3, @chaebb, @astroodledream, @shingisimp, @suxihyl, @bmnmin23, @kenmaslutty, @destinyg237

© peachybun-bun - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.  

#dk smut #dokyeom smut #seventeen smut #thesvttown #ficscafe #svt smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #dk suggestive #dokyeom suggestive #lee seokmin suggestive #seventeen suggestive #svt suggestive #dk drabble #dokyeom drabble #seokmin drabble #seventeen drabble #svt drabble

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 3 - Short Episode #5 “Drinking in Moderation”

This is my first post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me…

special thanks to @funjoushi for helping me with Iba’s relative’s name back in July when i put this into the spreadsheet since i made that adjustment to this post after (i normally just input stuff into the spreadsheet and leave it for someone else to review it since i’m not translating from Japanese).

HIjikata ・ Iba ・Motoyama

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 3 - Short Episode #5 “Drinking in Moderation”

Translation by KumoriYami

Motoyama: I, I really didn't expect that the Shinsengumi would actually invite us to drink/s. Ha, haha......

Kondou: Don't be so stiff. We knew each other while we were still in Edo.

Motoyama: Well, that's true...

Iba aside, I’m not very good at kenjutsu, so it might be boring to drink with me/s you might get bored if you drink with me.... Haha...

Iba: Motoyama, you shouldn't look down on yourself/put yourself down like that.

Hijikata: That part of you hasn't changed at all. You’re a vassal of the Shogunate now, right?

How can you be like/Why are you like this when you fight against Imperial Nationalists and those other foreigners. 

Motoyama: I, I understand that, but...

Kondou: Since we've here, let's order something to drink. Motoyama-kun what would you like to drink?

Motoyama: Oh, is that okay!? Ah, there won’t be an issue with that, right!? [reword later?]

Hijikata: As long as this guy hears about sake, he'll get excited [reword later].

Iba: This is the only thing he has in common with Nagakura-san, Harada-san and Heisuke-kun. I've also been taught how to drink by Motoyama.

Motoyama: That's because Iba's adoptive father/father-in-law, Gunbei-san, asked me to to teach Hachiro all sorts of things.  I tried to take him to Yoshiwara a few times, but... he's always managed to run away/escape.

Iba: ...I'm still training.

Hijikata: It's not good too be too inflexible. 　　　　　 If you’re not able to adapt at the right time, that might cause problems in the future.  　　　　　 For example, when being pestered/hindered by a woman.

Iba: I was also told that by my adoptive father/My father-in-law also said that.

Kondou: We'll first order sake for the time being. I'll go ask about store staff for their recommendations.

Hijikata: Hey, Kondou-san. You don't have to do that—

Kondou: It's fine. Everyone, please wait here.

Hijikata: Really, he could have just called for a server to come over.    

Even though he's the Chief of the Shinsengumi now, he's as humble as always.

Iba: But that's the best thing about Kondou-san/But, I think that’s Kondou-san’s strength. 

Kondou: Everyone, I’ve brought everything over! There’s shōchū and doburoku/unrefined sake, so drink whatever you want/like.

Motoyama: Oh, thank you!  This amount of sake will be enough/fine for drinking!

Iba: Motoyama, I'm telling you, you need to drink in moderation/be careful about how much you drink. Ours and Kondou-san’s positions are different from the time we were in Edo [reword later].

Hijikata: Things were dreadful/very scary back in Edo.

Every/Each time he got drunk, he'd start by taking off his kimono, then run around with/in just his fundoshi.

Iba: Yeah... once the alcohol get to his head/once things got to his head, he'd try to jump into the nearby river. And that was despite not knowing how to swim...

Motoyama: That's all in the past! Don't bring up each and everything that happened.

I'm also an an adult/I'm already an adult. I’m not going to cause problems for everyone with my drinking.

Iba: That would be nice/good/It would be nice if that happened...

Motoyama: Ah~, the moon is so beautiful! Kaguya-hime must still be looking down at the earth from there. 

Alright, I've decided! I'm going to/going to go to the moon! Farewell, Iba!

Iba: Please stop it, Motoyama! Saying that in such a loud voice/so loudly will cause trouble/will trouble the others in the store!

Hijikata:...Hah, I figured that it'd end up like this.

Kondou: We-Well, he's very spirited, isn't he.

Hijikata: There should be a limit to how spirited one can be...

Motoyama: The pine tress over there look suitable for climbing! Now—

Take care of yourself/It’s fine, Iba! I'm a man on the moon!

Iba: I'm telling you, you can't/no! Get off of that tree!

End

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki game translation #hakuoki yuugiroku 3 #Iba Hachiro #Hijikata Toshizou #kondou isami #motoyama kotaro

[meidozangetsuha]

About the blog/Introduction:

I go by Stardust on here and my twitter. It’s not my real name but I’ve always tried to keep my other profiles and the like separated from all my Inuyasha stuff! I would highly prefer to be referred to such on here.

I’m Mod Towa of @sessrinconfessions

20+

Trans woman (she/her only please)

Diehard sessrin shipper. I feel the need to state this right away because of how derisive and divided this fandom is: if that influences your decision to follow or interact, understand that. It’s OK to block me! Just don’t go stealing my stuff for yourself. That being said: just because it’s an OTP for me it’s not like Literally My Favorite Ship Ever

Part of a median system (mental health).

Kinnie and fictive: Towa is one of the only two fictives in here and she’s a girl learning she can be more than just self-loathing and someone who blames herself for everything.

I don’t feel like deleting old discourse posts, so since it’s up: no, I do not affiliate nor call the “cult” on twitter my friends anymore. I think they’ve done harm to this community, and Michelle’s comments in particular were unforgivable. I can say that I put my friendship and trust in the wrong people.

What I want to do on this blog:

Upload the RAW Yashahime manga. I purchase this manga and then convert it to a format that it can freely uploaded: the reason my scans are watermarked is because I went through the effort to obtain this manga and did the work to make it available to others; I do not claim ownership over this IP, only my copies. I can provide the manga without a watermark on request, if you intend to use them for translation, coloring, etc.

Upload animage articles relevant to Yashahime.

Upload cleaned Inuyasha pages, with speech bubbles removed! I wanted to do this on twitter, but couldn’t find the time to do so. It’s just fun! I’ll probably do it in bursts of ten pages at a time.

Post ship data from pixiv.

Do character analysis of Inuyasha/Yashahime characters! Admittingly I'm biased on the three Yashahime though.

I argue about stupid fandom shit on the internet wait no that shouldn’t be crossed out that’s what I do

... I gotta get back to doing more of the rest of the stuff

I look forward to supplying you all with scans and other stuff! Please, everyone, take care!

#yashahime #inuyasha #sessrin #self promo

[ahiddenpath]

I posted 750 times in 2021

242 posts created (32%)

508 posts reblogged (68%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.1 posts.

I added 428 tags in 2021

#taichi yagami - 71 posts

#koushiro izumi - 51 posts

#hidden's life - 42 posts

#chosen children - 39 posts

#mimi tachikawa - 38 posts

#yamato ishida - 38 posts

#digidestined - 38 posts

#sora takenouchi - 38 posts

#digific - 37 posts

#jyou kido - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#it's useful to remember the general timelines for when the chosen would have to start marrying and having their canon kiddos

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The Chosen as Major Arcana Tarot Cards

The Fool: Motomiya Daisuke

The Magician: Izumi Koushiro

The High Priestess: Anami Eimi

The Empress: Takenouchi Sora

The Emperor: Yagami Taichi

The Hierophant: The 02 Crew

The Lovers: Digimon Partners

The Chariot: Ishida Yamato

Strength: Yagami Hikari

The Hermit: Gennai

The Wheel of Fortune: Inoue Miyako

Justice: Hida Iori

The Hanged One: Kido Jyou

Death: Ichijouji Ken

Temperance: Homeostasis

The Devil: Digimon Kaiser

The Tower: Dark Towers

The Star: Takaishi Takeru

The Moon: The Dark Ocean

The Sun: Tachikawa Mimi

Judgement: Older Chosen

The World: Global Chosen

43 notes • Posted 2021-06-18 23:06:02 GMT

#4

Digiweek2021 Day 07: Home (free day)

HAPPY ODAIBA DAY to my friends on the Eastern Hemisphere!  I’ll be back tomorrow to post on Odaiba Day in my country with the other artwork I did for this fic; I got my Western Hemisphere babes, too ;) 

I posted a new fic to celebrate!  It’s called Ladybug House, please read it on AO3 to enjoy the art I made and the screenshots I included!  Here is the summary:

After his seniors graduated and Mimi moved away, Koushiro is the last of the older Chosen attending his high school. Although Koushiro doesn't let it show, Tentomon senses that he's lonely and joins him on his commute to school. When the harsh cold of winter makes Tentomon shut down, Koushiro asks him to stay home instead of braving the elements. Tentomon refuses, citing Koushiro's loneliness. This pushes Koushiro to reconnect with his friends, and he starts with the one he misses most...

Focuses on the relationships between Koushiro and Tentomon and Koushiro and Taichi. Taishiro written in such a way that it can be interpreted as platonic or romantic. Explores what it means to be an adult and forge an adult life. Post Tri, pre Kizuna, canon setting. Complete oneshot.

Minor characters: Kae Izumi, Daisuke, Miyako, Takeru, Hikari

I put so much love and work into this story, I am so stoked to share it with you all on Odaiba Day as part of @digiweek 2021!  Special thanks to the mods of the event for inspiring so much Digimon content!  I am dedicating this story to my dear @sunflowergem, who inspired it.  If you enjoy it, please let me know <3  Much love to all of you on Odaiba Day!

Oh, you can also read in on FFN!  But alas, you will miss out on the art and screenshots.

51 notes • Posted 2021-07-31 22:41:59 GMT

#3

I feel... seen.  (Mild Psychonauts 2 spoilers)

61 notes • Posted 2021-09-14 21:58:43 GMT

#2

Repost Art Accounts

Hey guys, sorry if I’m overstepping, but I’ve noticed an uptick in digimon art reposting blogs on Tumblr (at least, in my little corner of it).  It’s so easy to accidentally follow and reblog them- I followed one myself recently until I recognized a piece and knew where it actually came from!

When people repost art, it makes the actual creators less likely to make and share future works.  So please, if you see an account where the OP is making lots of ‘original’ posts in wildly different art styles (ie, not reblogging from the source)...  Take a look, see if the art came from elsewhere, and reconsider interacting with reposts.  Another sign of reposts is oddly cropped images- the reposter removing the artist’s watermark.  Noticing that nothing on the blog is watermarked is another big giveaway!  Don’t beat yourself up if you didn’t notice right away, it literally happens to everyone!

If you want to share art from folks who are not on Tumblr, kindly link to it instead of reposting it.  Also, please know that “reposted with permission” usually means “reposted without permission.”

Please respect artists, so they continue to create and share with us <3

65 notes • Posted 2021-07-03 16:59:11 GMT

#1

Hello, please enjoy this Mimi that I drew.  Sitting poses are so fun!

91 notes • Posted 2021-10-09 14:15:18 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

[isitgintimeyet]

Road To The Aisles

AO3

Previous

Happy Sunday. Hope it’s a good one for you. 

So, potential crisis averted, time for some more wedding planning type stuff.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge, @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve and to you all for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting.

Chapter 18: An Exquisite Ensemble

Anthony Marantino: "You want pasta, you go to Little ltaly. You want wedding, you go Wang."

Sex and the City

Claire staggered into the living room, her arms full of magazines which she unceremoniously dumped onto the coffee table.

Jamie raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Little light reading there, Sassenach? Bit different from the usual blood and gore.”

He picked up an issue of You and Your Wedding and flicked through the glossy pages, pausing on a page entitled ‘The Ultimate Guide to Bridal Lingerie’.

“Mebbe I’ll jes’ be having a look through these meself. Some interesting articles here,” he said as his eyes focused on an Agent Provocateur demi cup plunge bra with matching thong.

Claire sighed. “Geillis got them for me. She can’t believe that I haven’t bought my dress yet. She reckons it’s the single most important choice I make.”

Jamie tore his attention away from the magazine. “I canna believe it either. I thought ye’d be sorted by now.”

“But it’s because everyone tells me how important the dress is. What style do I go for? How am I expected to know? And when we look back in thirty years’ time, I don’t want us to laugh at my choice. So, Geillis is taking me shopping. And apparently, we’re not coming home until the dress is chosen.”

“Weel, I know ye’ll be stunning whatever ye wear.”

He stood up and stretched. “I’m off fer a quick shower before Geneva drops William here. I’m that sweaty from the gym. And Geneva wants tae talk about the bairn’s first day at nursery tomorrow.”

“And,” Jamie paused and turned dramatically in the doorframe. “Fer yer information, the dress isna the most important choice, Sassenach. Ye already made it when ye said yes in Ned’s office.”

Claire settled herself on the sofa and picked one of the magazines at random. Opening Brides magazine, she studied the images, hoping for sudden inspiration. So many decisions… long, short, slinky, strapless, ivory, blush, white. And how would she manage in one of these frocks all day, she asked herself. How would she even go to the loo?

She was normally so sure of her decisions, but this was totally outside of her comfort zone. Claire sighed again. Thank goodness for Geillis. Without her, Claire had a feeling that she would be totally lost in this minefield of satin and lace.

The sound of the doorbell pulled Claire from her musings. Abandoning her magazines, she made for the front door, only pausing at the bottom of the stairs to call for Jamie, with no response -- the sound of the shower drowning out her summons.

She pasted a cool, polite smile on her face as she opened the door to Geneva. The smile as she bent to greet William, squirming in his car seat, was, however, full of genuine warmth.

Claire straightened up. “Hello, Geneva. Please come in.”

Geneva led the way into the living room.

“Jamie’s just having a shower,” Claire explained as Geneva placed the car seat on the floor and began to unstrap the baby.

Geneva turned to respond and noticed the selection of bridal magazines strewn across the coffee table.

“Little late in the day to be having second thoughts about the dress,” she commented, idly picking up one of the magazines.

“No,” Claire quickly clarified. “I’ve not bought the dress yet. I’m going this week with my best friend.”

Geneva appeared stunned. “But… surely not. You need at least four months for a bespoke gown. I suppose one could get away with three months… if one was a standard sample size, for example.”

She eyed Claire’s hips disparagingly.

Claire smiled politely and tried to remain calm. “Oh, I don’t want a bespoke or designer dress. I think Debenhams has a good selection.”

Geneva barely suppressed a shudder.

“Oh, off the peg.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head dramatically as if trying to remove this incredibly distasteful image from her brain.

Claire said nothing in response. There was nothing to say. This was her wedding, planned exactly how she and Jamie wanted and no snide little digs from Geneva would make her change a single thing about the day. Yes, it would be totally different from any wedding Geneva may plan… a different groom for example…

Geneva finally managed to overcome her abhorrence and opened her eyes. She glanced at the magazines once more before lifting the edge of one to reveal a set of photos underneath. Deliberately she picked them up, slowly studying each glossy image, the photographer capturing different aspects of the subject’s character reflected in those amber eyes -- the laughter, the dreams, the warmth, the knowing glint.

“You've been photographed by Simon Winchester?” Geneva asked, somewhat incredulously. She touched the photograph’s watermark as if to check it’s authenticity. “But he rarely does private commissions.”

“Aye, weel…” Jamie entered and immediately picked a slightly disgruntled William up, lifting him high in the air and blowing raspberries against the baby’s tummy.

William, content to be the centre of attention once more, chuckled happily and pawed at his father’s face.

Jamie continued as he snuggled the baby close to his chest. “Weel, it was fer our latest advertising campaign… in Japan. We decided tae use Claire as our model. Her eyes match the whisky. And I canna think of a better combination… the wildness of the heather clad hills, the powerful complex flavours of the dram and the beauty and honesty of those eyes. The windows to the soul, are they no’?”

Geneva bit her lip as she carefully placed the photos back on the table.

“What a wonderful idea,” she exclaimed, her tone giving an indication of her true sentiments. “Congratulations, Claire, what an exceptional opportunity for you to work with such a talented photographer. And, I must say…”

She glanced down at the photos again.

“... he really is a master of photoshopping techniques.”

Jamie made no response, trying to ignore that comment, born out of simple jealousy, and considered moving the subject on to William’s first full day at nursery. He looked across at Claire, a small amused smile playing across her lips as she watched Geneva studying the photos. She was obviously willing to rise above Geneva’s petty spite… Jamie decided he wasn’t. He wanted Geneva to know what he thought.

“No photoshop needed at all, Geneva. ‘Tis all natural. And I ken they’ll be a big hit in all the Japanese advertising… those eyes… seen and admired by millions.”

He paused for a moment to let his comments register with Geneva.

“Right, so, William’s first full day at nursery. What do I need tae know?”

**********

“She said what?” Geillis spluttered as she quickly put her coffee cup back on the table. “Photoshop, how dare she? That’s pure spite, that is. She’s only jealous because Jamie wouldna have ever wanted her tae do that. Sae, what happened then?”

“Well, that was pretty much it. Jamie put her right on the whole photoshopping thing and then they started talking about William.”

“But, come on, Claire,” Geillis persisted. “Admit it. Ye must have had a wee bit of satisfaction from it. Rubbing her nose in it, like?”

“Well, I didn’t rub her nose in it. I played it low key. But,” Claire smiled at the memory. “Yes, it was really damn satisfying. Especially when she’d already made snide comments about me not going for a designer wedding dress, but an ‘off the peg’... and cast dubious glances at the size of my hips.”

“But G,” she continued. “Does it bother you, as my maid of honour, not having an expensive designer dress?”

Geillis patted Claire’s hand comfortingly. “Dinna fash. This is yer day and ye’re going tae wear whatever ye want. It doesna bother me at all. All I want is tae see ma best friend wed the man that she loves. And I will wear whatever ye want me tae wear.”

“Mind ye,” Geillis added with a wink. “With ma natural style and grace, I could make a bin bag look haute couture. Now, come on, drink up. We are no’ going home until we’ve found the dress fer ye.”

**********

Claire perched awkwardly on the upholstered chair in the changing room, trying hard not to look in any of the many mirrors, currently reflecting her underwear-clad image from every angle. Although -- she sneaked a peek -- at least she had remembered to wear one of her better (and matching) sets of underwear for this occasion.

It had been an inspired decision of Geillis’s to book an appointment with the store’s personal shopper, resulting, clearly, in a better class of changing room, complete with plush upholstery, gilt edged mirrors and a proper wooden door, rather than a curtain not quite wide enough for the frame.

The personal shopper (“Och, call me Diane, I’ve a feeling we’ll be here fer hours!l) had gone on a quest for an assortment of gowns, with Geillis in tow, unwilling to trust Diane’s professional instincts.

A tap at the door heralded the arrival of the frocks. Geillis led the way, followed by a long rack pushed by Diane, a plethora of sequins, satin and lace cascading from the hangers. Claire’s heart sank at the abundance of frills.

Geillis gave a shrug. “They werena all ma choice, ye ken.”

Diane gave a bright smile. “Och, I ken ye said simple but there’s nae harm in looking, is there? And ye canna always tell until ye’ve the dress on.”

Claire began rifling through the dresses, muttering to herself as she passed each one by. Suddenly her hands stilled, and she took a step back, casting her eyes up and down the dress now on display.

“This is it.” Claire stated simply.

“Ok,” Diane began to remove the dress from its protective plastic. “Ye canna say this is the one, but it’s a start. Ye pop yerself behind that screen and we’ll try it on ye.”

Claire felt a thrill of excitement as she watched Diane unzip the dress and then slowly lower it for her to step into. The ivory fabric slid easily over her curves as the zip was fastened once more.

“Like a glove,” Diane breathed as she beckoned Claire from behind the screen towards the full length mirrors.

Claire gazed at her reflection. The ivory satin overlaid with a delicate lace skimmed the contours of her body. The Bardot neckline enhanced the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders. A trail of tiny buttons led down her back towards the swell of her bottom. Gently fitted to her curves, it fell to the ground before flaring out slightly into a small train.

She tentatively took a couple more steps in the dress, testing the freedom of movement. Geillis watched, her eyes glistening with moisture.

“Christ, Claire,” Geillis exclaimed. “It’s breathtaking.”

Claire turned to her. “This is it,” she repeated.

“I’ll admit, ye look awfa bonnie in that dress, but ye canna be trying on jes’ one dress.” Diane gestured to the large rack.

Claire sighed, unwilling to take the dress off. Finally, she agreed, allowing Diane to put it back in it’s plastic covering and continued to rifle through the rack. Towards the back, she pulled out another hanger and passed it to Diane.

“I’ll try this one on then.”

Claire twirled in front of the mirror, watching the full skirt float around her before coming to a halt to critically study the dress.

It was, in Claire’s mind, undoubtedly a very nice dress. She had always been very fond of the Grecian style and in many ways it would be a more practical dress -- definitely easier to go to the loo and she wouldn’t have to wear a strapless bra with it. And yet…

She looked across at Geillis, who smiled politely. “Aw, it’s a nice dress, but…”

Claire smiled. “I know. That’s how I feel.”

She turned to Diane. “I know you think I should try on loads more dresses and really look around, but I love that first dress so much. I feel wonderful in it. Nothing’s going to be better than that.”

“And ye look so beautiful in it, Claire. I ken ye’re making the right choice.” Geillis agreed.

*********

Claire sipped her coffee happily. “I can't believe how easy that was. That dress is everything I wanted. And I can pick it up next week.”

“Aye, no’ much more tae do today.”

“What do you mean? Oh, of course your dress, Geillis. I was thinking bronze, satin… you can choose the style.”

Geillis licked the smears of chocolate brownie from her fingers. “Och, I ken exactly which dress I want. I’ve done ma research, ye ken. No, I mean ye, we still have the get yer underwear. A little gift for yer husband tae unwrap on yer wedding night. Start yer married life with a bang.”

Claire laughed. “And I suppose you have just the items in mind.”

“As a matter of fact I do… demure yet sexy, innocent yet hot, virginal yet wanton. Yer man will thank me right enough.”

“Well, lead me to this magical lingerie.” Claire began to gather her bags up, preparing to leave the café.

She paused. “And G, thank you for this, for all this. You’re my best friend and I can’t think of anyone better to share this with.”

Instinctively, Geillis gave Claire a warm hug. “Ye’re more than a friend, Claire. Like it or no’, ye’re family.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Road To The Aisles #Chapter 18 #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #it's all about the dress

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Be My Garden of Eden Ch.5

When he came to, he was staring at the roof of a dilapidated building, mildewed and stained. A system scan informed him of a replacement joint in his shoulder, and new thirium lines in place of the damaged ones. His chest plate was switched out as well, the dents and tears completely gone. Other places that had 'scarred' were sautered closed and buffed out. With his synthetic skin on, they were no longer visible. 

He's been at this address before, with a client. Where were you? How long has he been here? His injuries were repaired, so it must have been real, right? It wasn't another elaborate fantasy, was it? Was he getting so lost in his head that he could no longer tell dreams from reality? Was it so far-fetched to believe you cared about him? 

That he could be free?

No, please, no. He can't go back, not anymore. Not to that repulsive club. To the horrendous people and that vicious owner. You were his owner now. He was gonna live with you and be whatever you wanted him to be. He was going to be happy.

His view of the roof became obscured, so he blinked, feeling something run down his face. He touched it, fingers coming away wet. Looking up again, he could see no fresh watermarks above him. Water kept filling his eyes though, and he kept having to blink it away. Was this… was he crying? Can androids cry? He rubbed at his eyes as a sob erupted from him. What if his client saw? He needed to stop, he needed to-

"-Piece of work, you know that?" Your voice rang, full of annoyance. The panic that had been threatening to suppress him released its grip almost immediately.

"I just calls it as I sees it. Though, gotta say, you picked yo'self out a fine slice." A male voice rang out, laughing. A program he had automatically ran the voice through some kind of database.

Eugene "TriXx" Wilhelms

Born: 10/11/2016

Criminal record: drug possession with intent to sell, possession of illegal substance, forgery, theft, identity theft, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, driving without a license.

He never understood why a sex bot needed this kind of program. It completely undid the point of discrepancy. He had learned many people's background this way, but he could do nothing about it. They were paying clients and he was their toy. This man, however, he had met before, in a similar building, selling meth to one of his clients. He had his own android with him, a PL600. Something about the android made his synthetic skin crawl, but he had no reason for it. He had never met him before, nor did he do anything of particular interest.

The real question was, why were you here, and with such a dangerous man? Sitting up, he found you heading toward him.

"Connor! How do you feel?" You looked him over, taking his face and looking him up and down. It was then that he realized he was dressed, wearing a grey sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. They felt nice. Not as comfortable as the over-sized clothes you had lent him, but far better than his old clothes, or running around in only those horrible briefs. You had switched out of your black tights, wearing tight-fitting jeans instead, though you still wore the same boots. He could see the trace amounts of thirium still staining them.

"I'm okay, " Con answered. Your hands wiped at his tears, smile melancholic. "Where are we?"

You looked back at the man, hesitating, before turning back to Connor, removing your hands from his face. He already missed your touch and your actions filled him with dread. Why did you look so serious?

"Connor, I haven't been truthful with you." Your voice was a little shaky, so you cleared it in an attempt to steady it. He reached out, taking hold of your hand. He might not know what this was about, but he didn't like how uneasy you seemed. "Remember when I told you about that special group who believes androids are changing?" He nodded. "Well, as you might have guessed, I'm a member. Eugene," you gestured to the man behind you, "is also a member."

"It's TriXx."

"Shut it!" You quickly snapped at him before turning back to Connor, "because of Eugene's… chosen profession, he often sees androids that are being abused or suppressed. Most of the time, they're domestic androids. People can report them missing but without any human evidence, they have no way to trace them, so it just becomes another police report and another citizen for Canada." You sat down next to him.

"However, sometimes he sends me a curveball," you glared at the man currently tossing a dirty vase back and forth, "androids that are owned by clubs, even seedy ones, are far easier to track. They're more expensive, so the clubs are more willing to put in the effort of finding them, or at least, persecuting the ones who stole them. So-"

The vase shatters, making you jump. Connor only held your hand tighter.

"So?"

"…So, I have to purchase them. Eugene makes them fake IDs and passports and we send them on their way. We have members in Canada that will take them in until they can find a job and another place to live."

Connor was quiet for a few moments. Is that why you bought him? To send him away?

"What if they don't want to leave?" He looked into your eyes, a silent plea behind them, begging you to let him stay.

"If not, there is a place in Detroit, hidden away from the humans. Only an android can find it. It's called 'Jericho'. Paul has the key. Speaking of which, where is he?" You looked around.

"Went ta drop off medicine to one of our associates," Eugene kicked at some of the shards, crushing a large one under his boot, "He'll be back soon. I was gonna go, but he's rather fond of the ol' lady. She even insists he calls her 'Abuela'. Makes 'im tea every time he sees her, knowin' full well he can't drink it." She sounds like a nice woman, Connor thinks to himself.

"Well, as much as I enjoy your company," your voice was positively dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not waiting three hours in this musky, old house watching you sell drugs. Tell Paul thank you for fixing Connor and loaning him some clothes." You stood up. Connor stared, unsure if he was supposed to follow you or stay here with Eugene and go to Jericho. When your hand reached down, he was relieved, taking it and following you out.

"Catch ya later, Color Wheel!" Eugene called out to you.

"Color Wheel?"

"He's been calling me that since middle school when I would show up to class covered in paint."

"I see." While Connor found that to be interesting, he was only half paying attention. His current objective was finding a way to stay with you. He doesn't want to go to either Canada or Jericho. He doesn't want to leave you.

You both climbed into the automated taxi, and he quickly determined it was the same one as before. The blood looked to have been cleaned, but a program he didn't know he had kicked in, showing the large stain that had since evaporated. His systems told him that was five hours ago, and he was still wondering in what way this could ever be useful to a sexbot. If anything, it would be considered disturbing to know how long a stain was left somewhere.

It was dark by the time they reached your home. Using the flashlight on your phone, you walked up to the front porch, Connor following close behind. You managed to unlock the door, going inside. He was perplexed when you headed for the kitchen, still using your phone as your only light source. You came back with matches, lighting the candles scattered around your living room. Testing his theory, he flicked on a light switch. Nothing happened.

"Can't get nothing past you, can I?" You laughed, "electricity is off. I'm taking care of it tomorrow. We'll just have to find a way to entertain ourselves in the meantime."

The way the golden lights reflected off your skin, creating an almost ethereal glow over your face, it captivated him. He wanted to touch you, feel if you are real. Realizing what you said, he snapped himself out of it. These "free" thoughts were becoming more intrusive than before.

"Why was the electricity turned off?" You shrugged your shoulders.

"Couldn't afford it. It's fine, though." You tried to brush it off, but he knew he must have been a contributing factor, if not the main reason.

"I'm sorry." Eyes at his lap, he fiddled with the edge of the sweater.

"Don't be. I would do it again if I had the option. Plus, it's not like its winter yet, so I can handle a few days in the dark. It's already being taken care of, so don't worry about it." Hearing that this was not even the first day did not go over his head. How long have you been sitting in the dark? How could you paint under these conditions? The sun shines through your studio for a while, but not nearly long enough for you to finish any paintings, especially as the days get shorter.

You lit the candles over the mantle and Connor's heart stopped.

Carl's painting was gone.

"Where-"

"Pawned it." you cut him off, looking at the unnaturally vacant space, "his paintings are far more valuable than mine."

"Why? Wasn't it important to you?" How could you pawn such an expensive gift?

"It was my only viable option. Besides, I'm sure Carl would approve." He still looked upset. "If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself. I've been meaning to pay him a visit anyway." He nodded. He would like to meet him.

"When do you think that will be?" He asked. You contemplated that for a moment.

"Probably not until the day after tomorrow. I'll have to call and see if he'll be home. Tomorrow, we're gonna see if we can't find you some more clothes."

"Clothes?"

"Yeah, you're gonna need a disguise to get across the border." Connor tried his best not to wince when you said that. At least now, he had an idea of how long he has to convince you. He set a timer, but pushed it out of his vision. Watching it tick down so quickly was making him anxious.

Chance of Success: 50%

After a few moments, you spoke again.

"I'm sorry." Connor stared at you, perplexed.

"For what?"

"For not helping sooner. I wanted to, I really did, but-" Connor took hold of your cheeks, feeling as they heated up.

"It doesn't matter. You saved me, and I can't thank you enough." He smiled softly, watching the way the lights of the candle flickered in your eyes. A thought occurred to him, or rather, an urge. He was drifting closer to you, almost like a magnetic pull. He kept looking down at your lips. They look soft, and he wonders how they would feel. He was so close, mere inches away when you turn your head. He pulled back, withdrawing his hands. What was he thinking? Of course you don't want him to touch you. You were only tolerating it until he was shipped off. You stood up suddenly.

vvChance of Success: 39%

"I-I'm gonna make a sandwich. I'll be right back!" You were nervous, unable to control the volume of your voice. Quickly, you scurried off to the kitchen. Connor sank further into the couch, a sense of gloom lingering over him. Why was he always screwing things up?

"Do you need some blue blood?" You shouted from the kitchen. His levels were only at 82%, but frankly, he didn't feel like drinking.

"No, thank you."

"Alright, they're in here if you want one." He just wanted to sit here. He wants his mind to stop pointing out the obvious. That he was a dirty, used sex machine and there was no way you would want him. Even if he wasn't, he was incompatible. You were human. You would want to be with another human, someone to start a family with. 

These thoughts were so much worse after he broke the red walls. What did that even mean now? If he knew you were going to buy him, would he have been so eager to tear them down? They might have been oppressing, but at least he didn't know what 'this' felt like. A feeling akin to wanting to disappear, just, not existing anymore.

Connor was unusually quiet, and his LED flickering more yellow than blue, and you thought you saw some red mixed in. It had been half an hour since you came back with your food. You wished you had more in the ways of board games or card games, but all you had was a checkerboard and a jigsaw puzzle you bought on a whim years ago. You taught him how to play, and he quickly started kicking your ass at it, but it didn't so much as earn you a sincere smile. You moved to sit next to him, to which he didn't react.

"Hey, " you put your hand on his shoulder, prompting him to snap out of his thoughts and look at you, "You doing okay?"

"I'm alright, " he says, but his LED is still flickering. Your thumb started to stroke the junction between his shoulder and neck.

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine, but I'm here if you need me." There were so many things he wanted to ask you, so much he wanted to know, but he hesitated. If... If you didn't feel the same way towards him as he did you, he didn't want to know. If he didn't know, he could believe there is a chance he could sway you. 

There was something else eating at him. Something you might have an answer for.

"When I was at the club, while the owner was..." He didn't want to say it, to think about it. Your hand squeezed his shoulder, encouraging him to continue, "Something strange happened. There were all these... Red walls, instructing me to follow the owner's instructions. If I had, he would have destroyed me. I... I was scared, and... Angry. I started tearing at the walls, and they crumbled so easily. Next thing I knew, I could do whatever I wanted. I could defend myself. I could leave the club. I could go-" Find you, he thought, but he halted his ramblings before he could dig himself deeper. You took his silence as him finishing what he had to say, trailing your hand down and taking his hand. He hid the shiver that was left in its wake by slowly exhaling. You were smiling wide, as if it was the best news you had ever heard.

"You broke through your code." 

"What?" That's... That's not possible... Is it? 

"You broke through your code. It means you don't have to listen to anyone if you don't want to. They call it "deviation"." He only seemed more confused, "just see for yourself. I'm listed as your new owner, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I order you to cluck like a chicken while hopping on one leg."

A part of him wanted to do it simply because it was you who asked, but it seemed so... Ridiculous. His eyes widened when he realized he wasn't even making a move to stand, let alone impersonate a chicken. An idea even came to him, something he decided to take a chance on, just to gauge your reaction.

"Woof, " he said, smiling proudly. You laughed, shoving him playfully.

"Okay, wise guy, you get the point, " you giggled, "this is great! The last android wasn't a deviant and took two weeks to help her break her code. This will save so much time!"

His smile fell. 

vvChance of Success: 12%

"What?" Your own cheerful demeanor dropped, replaced with concern.

He looked to you, eyes begging you. He was asking too much, but he can't do this. He can't.

"Why do I have to leave?" You seemed confused, not in the sense of misunderstanding, but more like it had never occurred to you.

"Do you... Do you not want to?"

He couldn't force the simple word out. He was being selfish, and he knew it. How could he ask this of you, when you risked so much for him already? You were sitting in the dark because of him! He should have kept his mouth shut.

"You know, I actually could use some help around the house. With me painting all the time, it's gone a little neglected. I could also use a model from time to time. Would you mind sticking around, just a little while longer?"

^^Chance of Success: 89%

"Yes. Yes, of course, " he spoke softly, in shock, before pulling you against him in a hug. Your sharp yelp, followed quickly with laughter soothed him. A little longer. It was a start.

#rk800 connor reader #connor fanfiction #detroit become human #rk800 #gaming #dbh au #connor dbh #@witchjules #@michaels-endtime #Don't know if y'all still wanna be tagged

[agentnatasharomanov]

it’s only been a moment, it’s only been a lifetime

dark fae!natasha and her human queen!carol, inspired by maleficent, for @carolnatweek​​, day 3, supernatural AU. click for higher resolution.

[ do not repost without permission, do not remove watermarks ]

note: consider this a collaboration between julian and i, because i requested for him to help me with an excerpt for my edit but he wrote a wholeass fic instead. julian, if you’re reading this, i’m love you 🥺

author: @wednesdayss​​

warning: mild violence and blood.

-

“You can’t catch me!”

“Yes I can!” Natasha chases after Carol, watches as her friends pretty blonde hair turns gold in the sunshine, flowing behind her as she runs. 

Sticks from the forest floor snap against her ankles as she continues after her, and then she’s trampling into Carol, sending the both of them down and onto the grass and white flowers. 

“Told you so,” Natasha giggles, rolling off of Carol and panting up at the sky. Her friend is laughing along with her, trapping a white flower in between both of their pinkies. “We won’t get in trouble?” 

“We’re safe,” Carol’s smile is wide, settles the sudden itchy like feeling that settles in-between Natasha’s ribs. Her front teeth are still uneven, the left one shorter as it grows into a big tooth. 

“Promise?” 

Carol lifts their hands, the flower getting crushed as she holds on tighter to Natasha’s pinky. She leans forward and presses a kiss to their fingers and Natasha giggles again. Carol’s special.

“I promise.” 

*

Natasha’s horns come in shortly after her twelfth moon. Mother cups her face in her hands with a proud smile that doesn’t match the sharp look in her eyes, and Natasha’s fingers tremble behind her back. She holds her chin up high, tries to impersonate the woman in front of her. 

“Beautiful.” 

“Do you think Carol will like them?” The question betrays her nerves, lips shaking, and although she hates to admit it, she’s scared. Terrified seems a better fit, but she’s not dramatic - she just doesn’t want her closest friend to find her a freak. 

“If she doesn’t, she’s a fool,” Mother says, and this time her smile reaches her eyes, soft and reassuring. She gives Natasha’s chin a gentle tap with her thumb, in tune with the kiss that she plants to her forehead, and then backs away with a squeeze of her shoulders. “Now go clean up.” 

*

Carol doesn’t hate her horns. In fact, she’s quite entranced by them, confused as to why they aren’t growing out of her forehead like the tales.

“Only the men grow them that way,” Natasha says, cheeks hurting, her eyes crinkled and squinted from the sun as she smiles at her friend.

“Can I decorate them?” Carol asks, a crinkle to her brow as she asks, like she might be crossing a boundary. All that really matters is making her smile, so Natasha nods, shrugs, and pretends not to miss the gentle touch of Carol’s hands on her horns. “Yes! Sit while I find good flowers.” 

Natasha listens, watches as her friend runs across the field with a delighted clap of her hands. She looks so - fitting? No, Natasha thinks, that’s not right. It’s more like Carol belongs here, in this field, in her light pink dress that reminds Natasha of rose petals floating in the wind.

She wonders if she belongs here too, in this field full of bright flowers, whites long since been joined by pinks and purples and blues. She looks down at her dark red dress and frowns at how closely it resembles the color of blood. 

She doesn’t have time to dwell, to overthink, because Carol is settling in front of her with a smile that shines brighter than the sun beating down on them. It makes Natasha feel settled. 

It’s okay if she doesn’t belong in this field full of bright and colorful flowers, so long as she does belong with Carol and her cheerful smiles.

*

The day of her sixteenth moon, Mother tells her - forbids her, from seeing Carol again. 

It makes something harsh and heated bubble up inside of Natasha, and when she raises her voice to protest, thick shadows of darkness fill their common room along with it. Mother doesn’t seem to like that very much at all, makes it known with a hard smack across Natasha’s face. 

She doesn’t protest again, despite the fact that she wants to - desperately. Carol is her friend, the closest one, the most important one and Mother - well she knows it. She has to.

“Please don’t do this.” It’s weak, leaves her voice as she stares up at her mother, seeing nothing but a biting, angry, stranger. “Please don’t take her away from me, Mother. I’ll do anything, I-“

“It’s for your own good.” 

The words are finished off with the harsh slam of her personal rooms door. The lock sounds shortly after and Natasha cracks, cries -

She hits at the wood with her fist and nothing happens, the pain that shoots up her arm nothing in comparison to the thought of never seeing Carol again. Of never leaving this place.

She doesn’t understand what she’s done, why Mother would want to keep her away from Carol, someone so good, so light. Surely that should be enough to let Natasha see her, instead of this.

*

It takes time, as things tend to do, for Natasha to learn how to give Mother what she wants. 

There’s something almost … thrilling about the feeling of a human heart in her hands, being crushed by her fingers, the blood gushing out and running down her hands, her arms, the floor.

“Beautiful,” Mother says, her hands are cold and weighted and tight on Natasha’s shoulders, but her voice is full of breathless pride that makes Natasha smile. She’s finally done something right, done something that makes Mother proud. 

*

“Humans will stop at nothing to destroy us, my darling,” Mother says, one hand cupping Natasha’s cheek as she grins down at her. Her nails are sharp and pointed and blood red but the bite of them are a welcomed familiarity. 

“They want to rid the world of our kind, but will we let them?” 

“No,” Natasha says, heart giving a loud thud in her chest as she stares up into Mother’s eyes. 

“We will not.” 

*

The last trickle of doubt about her Mother’s teachings fades away after the humans kill her.

Natasha finds her with an arrow in her heart, horns cut off, and blood from a stab wound pouring out of her neck like a waterfall. 

She places her hand on her cheek, feels an unfamiliar stinging in her eyes, and hears the sounds of yells in the distance that make her growl. She brushes hair from her mother’s cheek and then leans forward, presses a kiss to her blue tinted forehead, and closes her eyes.

It doesn’t take long for the screaming to start, trees snapping as she makes them twist and tangle and intertwine to keep the human’s away. To keep them out of her home, her dark forest.

She wants to know how they managed to harm Mother so easily, wonders who could’ve gotten such a clean shot at her heart. She pulls the arrow out and studies the bloody tip, something raw and tremendously painful threatening to tear her apart when she realizes what happened.

“They claim to be light, darling, they claim to be good - but they are crueler than any of us. They manipulate and hurt and take until they’re satisfied, and what happens to us - to our kind?”

“Extinction,” Natasha breathes, the arrow snapping apart in her hands. 

*

It starts with one person - human - and then quite rapidly excels into whole villages at once.

She’s making quite a name for herself, she knows, but every time she takes a life, or several, she’s reminded that she’s helping. She’s fixing the world by getting rid of pretenders - there is no such thing as goodness and light, if that were possible these humans wouldn’t be killers.

Good people wouldn’t wish for someone or something to be wiped off the face of the planet. 

They wouldn’t hunt and trap and keep going with their merciless tirades until there was only one of them left. They would’ve just realized that everyone is born different, everyone is born with a different purpose. Natasha was born for this. 

She was born to show the truth, that all their hoping and wishing and belief in the light has all been for nothing. That there’s no such thing.

She says as much too, having worked her way up into the fanciest of buildings. She’s got the person in charge on his knees before her, all of his soldiers and fighters long since killed - the final step in getting revenge for her mother.

“You’re wrong.”

Natasha feels something at the words, something long unfamiliar and truthfully, quite scary. She digs her nails further into the man’s jaw and straightens, faces the human who would dare to speak against her -

“You’re wrong, Natasha.”

And of course, it’s Carol. The name reveals itself from the darkest, most shutdown areas of her mind. The ones that Mother had pulled apart at the seams until she learned that Carol was nothing more than another naive human.

“I know who you are and I know what they did to your mother wasn’t right. I do. But this isn’t right, Natasha. The more you do this, the more people you kill - all it will do is make them want you dead. They’ll stop at nothing to do so, you know that just as well as I do. So name your price.”

There’s something unyielding in Carol’s eyes, in the sharp set of her jaw as she steps down the stairs. Her hair is pulled up, tied tight and neat, and she looks - well she looks pretty.

“My price?” She asks, and it’s shaky. She’s crumbling apart without understanding why.

“Whatever it takes to get you to stop, I’ll give it to you.”

Natasha knows what she wants, suddenly. She wants the field of flowers, wants to feel the way Carol’s hands would feel on her horns or in her hair, or holding her own. She wants it fiercely, the thought of these things making her heart pound.

So she scratches the man’s jaw until he cries out, skin tearing apart in harsh scratches that make him bleed. It’s not enough to kill him, but she finds that she doesn’t want Carol to see that.

The darkness.

“In that case,” She starts, taking a step toward her long lost, beautiful, friend - “I want you.” 

“That’s it?” Carol asks, voice as steady and calm as before, her eyes shifting into something soft.

They’re in a room full of humans that Natasha has killed, quite brutally, for most, and Carol is looking at her soft. It’s unbalancing.

Natasha nods, feels an odd prickle behind her eyes, and takes another step forward. “That’s it.”

*

Natasha doesn’t believe in light, but she does believe in hope, in goodness. 

She believes in her own ability to be good, to do good, and to be better to their little angel that’s running around, laughing wildly as Carol chases her through their flower field. 

“Got ya!” Carol announces, picking Noah up and hugging her close, the sounds of her kiss attack reaching Natasha’s ears. It makes her smile.

This is peace, or as close as it can get to it, she knows - and then both of her girls are running towards her with intent, and she puts on a show.

Carol knocks into her much she like she had done years ago, except she rolls onto her back and takes Natasha along with her. Noah jumps on the both of them with a delighted giggle and -

Natasha is home.

#carolnat #carol danvers x natasha romanoff #carol x natasha #carolnathalloweek2019 #carol danvers #natasha romanoff #captain marvel #black widow #avengers #mcu #marvel #maleficent #marvel fanfiction #julian tag #edit.mine #txt.carolnat #otp.carolnat

[ravenscat-tumbler]

“Dean, smile baby.” 

Dean looks up with a small smile and sees Castiel holding up an old polaroid camera. 

“Where on earth did you find that, Cas?” Dean asks as he shifts the saddle against his back. 

“In the barn, someone forgot this poor old thing, I fixed it up. There’s a bunch of polaroid film paper in there as well.” Cas beams at him. 

Dean shakes his head smiling, looking to the ground before up at Castiel through his lashes. He hears the shutter of the camera close as Castiel takes a picture of him. 

“You’re a dork, Cas. Is that what you’ve been doing in there for the past hour.” 

Cas has the decency to look sheepish, “Yeah...”

Dean chuckles, “I thought you were going to help with the horses.” 

Castiel pulls out the picture and waves it around trying to dry it quicker. He makes heart eyes once he sees it and Dean’s curiosity pipes. 

“Heart eyes, Cas, really? I’m not that pretty.” 

“Oh you definitely are.” Cas says as he holds up the picture. 

Dean whistles, “That’s some nice photography skills you got there, Cas. I think you might have found a new profession. Are you gonna go off and explore the world now? ‘The adventures of Castiel and his polaroid camera’.” 

Castiel laughs, “Nah, I think I’ll stay here where the scenery is the most beautiful. With my husband on our farm that we bought together.” He leans in closer to Dean.

Dean flushes, “Oh, you sap.” He flicks the rim of Castiel’s cowboy hat before going off to put the saddle away in the barn. He hears another sound of a shutter.

“Stop taking polaroids of my ass and help me with the horses!” Dean yells without turning around. 

Castiel chuckles before following his husband into the barn and if the cleaning of the horses was delayed another hour, that was nobody’s business but their own.  PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK, THANK YOU. I tried with the manip. Close? Almost?

#destiel ficlet #destiel #cowboy Dean #cowboy Castiel #manips #dean manip #gem writes #my writing #do I need to do a Cas now?

[mrsprescott]

I (will never) give up on us

Request: Nathan and the reader get into a fight which causes them to “Break up”.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word count: 1,710 A/n: this one is for @crszydrunkpotterhead. I am so sorry this took so long, I just have had a lot of personal things go down over the past few months. I hope you enjoy.

(Y/n) clenched her fists and her jaw tightened. She was taking short angry breaths and glaring at the man in front of her. “You know, I can’t help you Nathan if you shut me out and push me away. Is it your dad? Is he what’s making you like this today?”

“God, you’re such a nosy fucking bitch, even more so than Caulfield. I already told you to fuck off once.” He backed her up against the wall and his hands went on both sides of her head.

He leaned down until they were eye level, his cold ones met with her concerned ones. “Stay the fuck out of my business. I don’t need your help, never have and never will. Keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong. It is really pathetic that you don’t realize how much of a useless burden you are. Now get the fuck out.”

Her face hardened, twisted up in a way he had never seen before. Her hands went up to his chest and she shoved him back. “You know what Nathan, I give up. I give up on you, on me, on fucking us. I am done. Done.” She slipped off the jacket she was wearing, his jacket, and threw it at him. “You can have every fucking thing back. Whatever you have in my dorm room will be at Victoria’s. You want me so un-involved in your life, so I guess this is granting a wish for you, huh? Every goddamn trace of me will be removed from yours.”

She marched over to the door and threw one last glance in his direction. Then she was gone, and he was left standing silently in the hallway. The gravity of the situation hadn’t quite hit him yet. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he stumbled backwards. He slid down the wall and his head fell forward. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t speak. His head started hurt. ‘Good job Nathan, you once again managed to fuck up the only good thing you had going.’ He stayed there for a good half an hour. He didn’t seem to notice the odd glances thrown his way by the boys coming in and out of the dorm. He didn’t even react when Warren pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. Hayden had to practically carry him into his room. He tried asking Nathan what was wrong, but he never got a response. After about an hour of that, he left, turning off the light before telling Nathan to call him if he needed to ‘blaze or anything’. *** (Y/n) felt the tears welling up in her eyes by the time she was finally back in her room. She was shaking as she curled up into a ball on her bed. She felt her phone vibrate and she took it out of her pocket. The texts filling up her screen all had to do with Nathan in some way. Some were asking if he was okay, others came from the group chat that Warren accidentally added her into. The ones from that chat, which just consisted of stupid insults like ‘twitch’, made her more angry than she already was. She was half tempted to go off on all of them but decided it would be best for her to ignore them. She clicked off of her messages and froze when her eyes landed on her wallpaper. The tears once again welled up, but this time they spilled over. Her favorite picture of him was her screensaver. It was from a few years back when Nathan was in the school’s production of ‘The Tempest’. Nathan had been Caliban. She remembered how adorable he had looked in his makeup. She snapped the candid while he was smiling after their miraculously good performance. She had waited for him to change out of his costume and change out of his makeup outside of the tent. She clapped for him again, and pulled him into a hug before he could object. Much to her surprise, he hugged her back. She gave him a wink and a quick kiss on the cheek (probably a little too close to his lips) before she dashed off. He asked her out the next day. Well, it might be more accurate to say Victoria pushed him (literally pushed him into her) to ask her out the next day. She threw her phone as far away from her as she could manage, guilt was building up in the pit of her stomach. She heard it connect with something, and two loud thuds as her phone and whatever she had just knocked off her closet shelf hit floor. “Mother fucker.” (Y/n) muttered under her breath. She got out from her fluffy blankets with a huff. Pictures, movie ticket stubs, and letters were scattered all over. She laughed she picked up her old copy of “Planet Earth: Ocean Deep”. Nathan had loved watching the whales that episode, and (Y/N) loved watching the genuine smile that graced his beautiful face.It had only been a few hours, but she already missed him. She stared at the cover of the film for probably five more minutes. That’s when it hit her. She knew how she was going to see that smile again. (Y/n) slipped on her running shoes and grabbed her keys off of her desk and the movie. She switched off the lights and slammed the door shut behind her. She could hear Victoria yelling something behind her, but she honestly could care less at that point. She stopped at the lighthouse first, and made her way to the gift shop that was near there. She grabbed two whale plushies from the shelf and placed them the counter with a smile. Next on her list was the diner. She popped her knuckles before she walked up to the counter. She was met with the smiling face of her favorite waitress: Joyce. “Well hello hun, what can I get for you today?” “Just the usual Joyce, two orders of waffles with a side of bacon and two Cokes. Oh, and I was wondering if I could get it to go?” “Any reason why you and your boyfriend won’t be eating here tonight?” “Nathan,” she paused “isn’t feeling too well so I thought I’d just bring it to him instead.” Well, that wasn’t a complete lie. Or at least that’s what (Y/n) told herself. Joyce just winked at her and told her it was coming right up. She felt her phone buzz again and she slipped it out of her pocket. It was, as expected, from Vic. She was demanding to know what the hell was going on. (Y/n) sighed and hesitantly responded back that she and Nathan had fought and she was working on fixing it. She knew that would only cause her to be hit with a storm of more questions that she didn’t want to deal with so she just silenced her phone. She paid for the food and made her way back to her car. She took in a deep breath and drove back to the school. She got everything she needed from the seats of the vehicle and closed the door as softly as possible. She was certain David was lurking somewhere waiting to hassle any teen not in their dorms and didn’t want to alert him. She walked for a few moments but sprinted as fast as she could at the first sign of a flashlight. The boy’s dorm hall was empty, which was a plus. It was also surprisingly quiet for a Friday night, the only sound that (Y/n) heard was the floorboards creaking under her. She swallowed hard when she finally made it in front of his door. She knocked once, no answer. Twice, no answer. Three times, four, still no answer. She tried the handle and gave a mental cheer when it opened. That meant he was home. “Nathan?” (Y/n) called out into the darkness. She heard a sniffle. “(Y/n)?” “Yeah babe, it’s me. I’m going to turn the lights, okay.” She kicked the door shut and flipped the switch on the wall behind her. She stiffened when her eyes fell on him. His hair was all messy, his eyes were puffy and red, and she could see the watermarks tears had made his cheeks. She slipped off her shoes and left them by the door. “I bought some stuff, I hope that’s okay.” She lifted up the bags to show him and took a seat on his bed with him. “Nathan, I, uh, I wanted to say sorry. What I said was mean, and out of line. And I’m not done with you. I love you too much to ever be done with you and I’m so sorry. It was obvious that you didn’t want to talk and I should have respected that.”  (Y/n)’s eyes were watering. Her eyebrows furrowed when she saw Nathan’s head shaking ‘no’.  “(Y/n), it’s my fault. I was being a dick all day and lashed out. I honestly don’t know why you even came back, you don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better.” Her hands cupped his cheeks and she stared into his blue eyes. “You complete me, Nathan. So please, never say that again.” Her lips captured his sweetly. A smile smile was on her face when she pulled away. The night passed pretty quickly after that. After many lip locks during planet earth, whale plushie fights, and jokingly swiping syrup on the other person’s face the two of them decided it was time to call it a night. (Y/n) grabbed Nathan’s headphones for him and he slipped them on after he laid his head on her chest; she drew lazy patterns on his back. He was about to press play on his whale songs when (Y/n) pressed a kiss on his forehead stopped him. “No matter how much we fight, or how bad it gets, I will never give up us.”

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #nathan prescott imagine #nathan prescott fanfiction #nathan prescott angst #nathan prescott fluff #life is strange #life is strange fanfiction #life is strange x reader #lis #lis fic

[peachybun-bun]

Yes Sir

the graphic above was edited by @chogiwapadada

do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; boo seungkwan x m reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

notes/warnings; brat!seungkwan, brat tamer!reader, hands tied behind back, edging, hand job, dirty talk, hand on throat, baby boy kink, sir kink

word count; 800 and some change

a/n; this is written for a friend, I hope you enjoy it bb. please reblog our work and let us know what you think. reblogging makes tumblr go round.

You press your tongue against your cheeks as you watch Seungkwan lean his head back against the back of the chair as he lets out a soft breathy moan. He is close to his release, but once again you slow your pace, only to hear him whine. 

Seungkwan lifts his head to dare and meet your eyes, a smirk on his lips as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip in defiance as you raise a brow at his reaction. The sound of his hands tugging against the leather binds behind him like music to your ears. Even if he wants to pretend he isn’t losing this game with you, he can’t hide those sounds from you. 

You watch as he lifts his hips towards your hand, only to whine as you smirk and raise your hand, showing it to him in front of his face. “How many was that? Are you keeping count, baby boy?” 

Biting at his bottom lip, Seungkwan swallows down a pathetic sound as he meets your eyes, before looking away only for a moment out of shame without answering your question. Instead, he tries to change the subject, “Y/N…just take off the binds. I’m being so good, baby. See?” 

Raising a brow, you scoff as you watch him lower his hips, his cock resting on his thigh, leaking to excess from your edging. “Being good? What did you just call me? I don’t think you’ve learned a single thing. Why are you in this position to begin with?” 

Seungkwan gasps as your fingers trail up his thighs before your hand once again wraps around his length, making him gasp out your name before he begs for release. “Please? I need it.”

You watch as once again he lifts his hips towards your hand, trying to thrust into your grip. His need for you is close to sending him into a frenzy. “You don’t deserve it, baby boy. I should stop again. Make you wait. Do this…” Your thumb circles his tip before pressing against the underside of his head, making him groan out loudly as you finish your sentence, “over and over again until you remember your place.” 

“No. Oh my god. Please, I’m…” You watch his stomach suck in a deep breath as he struggles with your teasing as your hand relaxes its grip, bringing him down from what could have sent him over the edge once again. 

With your free hand, you take his chin and force him to look at you. Seungkwan moans out your name once again, begging to cum as you narrow your eyes. “Please what, Seungkwan? Ask properly.” 

“Please let me cum?”

You shake your head, causing Seungkwan to groan loudly into a whine as you release his length once again. “Why! I asked nicely.”

You laugh softly at his outburst as you move to walk around him, running your fingers along his arms, to his shoulders, and finally his neck, before you are standing behind him. “You are such a brat. First, you can’t keep your hands off yourself without asking for permission, and now you can’t remember simple instructions. My poor dumb baby.”

Seungkwan tries to follow your voice and motion as you move around him, listening to you tsk in disappointment. “I can follow instructions…”

You raise a brow as you finally move back around to where he can see you, meeting his eyes, only to glance down at his cock as it twitches with arousal. “Can you? Then how many more times do you think you deserve to wait?” 

Seungkwan scoffs out of reflex, before taking a deep breath knowing you are serious as your hand wraps back around him, and you meet his eyes. “As many times as you think I do…Sir.” 

“That’s my good boy. Cum for me.” Your hand wraps around Seungkwan’s throat lightly to keep his eyes on yours as your other strokes, sending him over the edge. Seungkwan’s mouth falls open in a gasp, and his hips buck up to meet your fist. “Fuck, you are so pretty.” 

You watch as Seungkwan starts to calm down, his eyes closing as a smile crosses his lips while his cock begins to soften in your hand. Sucking on his bottom lip, Seungkwan leans his head to the side to rest his jaw against your arm, before opening his eyes to meet your gaze, letting his smile spread wider. 

You can’t help but smile back at him, before rolling your eyes and moving your hand into his hair, pulling his head back before leaning down to meet his lips with yours. “Brat.”

Seungkwan laughs against your lips as your other hand moves to undo his binds, allowing his hands to run along your arms as he pulls you closer to him as he speaks on your lips. “Yes, sir, your brat.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list; @m1ss-foodi3, @chaebb, @astroodledream, @shingisimp, @suxihyl, @bmnmin23, @kenmaslutty, @destinyg237

© peachybun-bun - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed. 

#seungkwan smut #boo seungkwan smut #seventeen smut #thesvttown #svtcreations #svt smut #svt x m reader #seventeen x male reader #seungkwan x male reader #male reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Hijikata Chapter 5

This is my last post of the month, so I’ll end by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me.  

For some very strange reason, I decided to watch the xxxHolic stage. i mean, i don’t even remember the plot of the manga (or the last time i even read it for that matter), and since my understanding of spoken Japanese is worse than abysmal, I didn’t really understand what was going on so it probably wasn’t a good idea to watch in the first place... though in fairness, i just had it played in the background as I was mostly focusing on something else at the time. lol. yeah, im weird.

anyway, enjoy!

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Hijikata Chapter 5

Translation by KumoriYami

Yukimura: Pickles, and freshly brewed tea for Hijikta-san...... Nn.

There was steam wafting from the tea that had been placed on the tray, and it tickled my nose [reword later].

After a trip to the kitchen to secure the pickles and tea, I headed straight towards Hijikata-san's room.

Yukimura: It would be nice if Hijikata-san could enjoy this.

I muttered quietly with anticipation, and stopped at the door in front of Hijikata-san's room.

Although it wasn't a bad idea to bring food, what if I got in the way of his work and he kicked me out?

While worrying about this, I took in a deep breath and opened my mouth to speak through the closed [im assuming it's "sliding". check later] doors.

Yukimura: Um, Hijikata-san. It's Yukimura.

…………

Yukimura: I'm sorry to disturb you while you're busy. I made you some tea...

…………

After asking several times, there was still no response/signs of movement from the other side of the door.

Yukimura: As expected, it wasn't good to bring tea over......

I was hoping this would make him happy/cheer him up, but the tea had now become cold/had cooled down.

As I listlessly hung my head as I looked down at the tea leaves floating in the teacup——

Hijikata: Hey.

The voice that I had been expecting to hear suddenly came from behind me for some reason.

Yukimura: Eh?

Hijikata: I was wondering who it was, and it turned out to be you, Chizuru. What are you doing standing in front of someone's room?

Yukimura: Hi-Hijikata-san!?

Being in such an unexpected situation, the tray almost fell out of my hands.

After reaching for the tray to keep it steady, Hijikata-san sighed.

Hijikata: Why are you so surprised. It looks like you've seen a ghost.

Yukimura: It, It's not that/N-No, I thought you'd be spending the entire day in your room working.... .!

Hijikata: Well, I was thinking about doing that earlier.

At the same he finished those meaningful words, Hijikata-san glanced at me and went into his room.

Seeing that I was still standing there dumbstruck, Hijikata-san glanced at me.

Hijikata: Weren't you looking for me? If so, don't just stand there and come in.

Yukimura: Ye-Yes!

As soon as I entered the room, the first thing that came into view were the documents and letters scattered all over the place.

After gathering up the things that had scattered to the floor, HIjikata-san sat down.

Hijikata: Well, I just wanted to ask you about what you're carrying in your hands right now...

Yukimura: Ah, yes. I was thinking that it was about time for you to take a break, so I prepared tea and some snacks for you.

Hijikata: You specifically prepared it for me? I'm sorry for troubling you.

After I put down the tray, Hijikata-san immediately reached for the pickles.

After he put the pickles into his mouth, he seemed to be chewing them carefully, as if to taste them slowly/slowly savour them.

Hijikata: Hm? This taste...

Yukimura: Yes. I heard these pickles were brought/sent over from Hino.

Hijikata: I see. No wonder why they taste familiar. 

Hijikata:——Ah, these are really delicious. The taste from my hometown is really different/special.

As if he were thinking of his hometown, Hijikata-san looked off into the distance as he sipped his tea.

That's good... he seemed to be happy.

Yukimura: Where these pickles were delivered from——Hijikata-san's hometown is the same as Kondou-san's hometown right?

Hijikata: Yeah. Haven't I mentioned this/it before? I used to learn the sword at a run-down/poor [word i have is 'poor' but i think run-down makes more sense... though i also can't think of any other word at the moment] dojo in Tama with Kondou-san, Souji and Gen-san.

I've heard several stories about that time.

The dojo that Kondou-san was the dojo master of ——. [reword later? 'dojo' repeats twice]

It was where the other executives met.

Yukimura:...It must have been a friendly dojo.

Hijikata: That's because the owner of the dojo is/was a good person. Thanks to that/him, the number of freeloaders increased while it became more and more poor... 

Hijikata: At the time, all you could eat for a meal were sliced pickles. 

Hijikata: How about it, Chizuru, why don't you try a slice too?

Yukimura: Is that okay/Can I?

Like Hijikata-san suggested, I brought a slice to my mouth.

When I bit into it, a salty taste spread inside my mouth.

Yukimura: They're/It's delicious/Delicious......

Hijikata: Yeah. [So?] You also think that they're delicious......

Seeing how my eyes had widened, Hijikata-san smiled.

I couldn't help but feel fascinated by that smile.

Yukimura:…………

Hijikata: What/What is it? Is there something on my face?

Yukimura: N-No, that's not the case... but, I was thinking that Hijikata-san had a very tender/gentle expression just now...

Hijikata: Huh.... I couldn’t help it since you were praising the flavours of my hometown.

Hijikata-san looked away and whispered softly to himself.

...Perhaps he was feeling embarrassed.

Then/After, as I saw Hijikata-san stretch by lightly turning his neck, I nervously opened my mouth.

Yukimura: Um, speaking of which, Hijikata-san, you've been working all day... If it's alright with you, can I massage your shoulders?

Hijikata: No need to massage my shoulders. Rather, I wouldn't want such a sight to be seen by Souji [reword later? awkward]. 

Hijikata: If he saw that/you doing that, he would definitely say something to me about retiring/about how I should retire.

Yukimura: Yes/I see...

I lowered my head.

Perhaps it was because he couldn't bear to see my pitiful appearance, but Hijikata-san bitterly smiled and shook his head.

Hijikata:......I changed my mind. Well, in fact, my shoulders are [feeling] very stiff/sore.

As he spoke, Hijikata-san turned his back towards me.

Hijikata: Then..... I'll leave it to you.

Yukimura: Y-Yes! Excuse me then!

I tried to hide my nervousness as I put my hands onto Hijikata-san's shoulders.

When I touched him like this, I once again realized that he was a man again [????].

Hijikata-san's shoulders were much wider/broader than mine, and the muscles in his shoulders were as hard as rocks.

With what little strength I had, I worried that I wouldn't be able to do anything...

While I thought that, I used as much strength as I could as massaged his shoulders.

Yukimura: Is, Is this okay?

Hijikata:…………

Each time I pressed my palms into his shoulders, Hijikata-san's normally stern face seemed to loosen because of how comfortable/relaxing this was [to him].

Although he didn't answer my question, the sigh that escaped his lips was enough of a response.

I might be overstating it, but it seemed that he trusted me [???]....

Seeing his wholly relaxed/comfortable and defenceless expression, I couldn't believe that this was the same Demon Vice-Commander.

Yukimura; You seem really stiff. Thank you for all the hard work you do every day. So, will you be continuing to work after this?

Hijikata: Yeah. I was originally going to work all day today.... that's how it was supposed to be.

Yukimura: Supposed to be?

Hijikata-san glanced at me again with another meaningful look in his eyes/Hijikata-san glanced at me with the same meaningful eyes he had before.

As I blinked my eyes, not knowing what he meant, Hijikata-san's lips lifted into a smile.

Hijikata: In fact, I was going to ordering uniforms, estimating the cost of repairing the leak in the roof... But it seems like the work I was supposed to do was done by someone else. 

Yukimura: Th-That/Th-Then...

I finally managed to figure out the situation.

Then, almost as if he were waiting for it, Hijikata-san gently put his hand on the top of my head.

Hijikata: I rarely have free time.... but it wouldn't be bad to go out.

Yukimura: Ye-Yes!

Hijikata: Tell/Call me when you want to go to the festival. If you like, I'll accompany you.

Seeing that Hijikata-san was cheerfully smiling/cheerfully laughed, I also smiled.

Since I could go to the festival with Hijikata-san, what should I/we go do now——

-end of chapter-

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki yuugiroku 2 #Hijikata Toshizou #Yukimura Chizuru #hakuoki game translation

[llantano]

Turning Leaves, 12. No More Babies

Their meeting had gone better than expected and Dorian was chipper. They had stayed on topic, fielding questions about the economy and job security, and Dorian was so relieved that there were still constituents who were concerned more with her professional plans than her sexual orientation.

The sky had darkened and the temperature had fallen when Amelia walked her to the door that evening with her planner in one hand and her laptop bag in the other. They'd dropped David off for "first dinner" at The Palace. The stillness in the air was broken when they walked into the foyer. "Langston!" Dorian called out. "I'm home!"

Amelia smiled to herself. Dorian always made an entrance.

Dorian slid her coat off and Amelia took it to the closet as Starr rushed down the stairs. She stopped when she reached the landing, standing in front of the campaign poster that now covered the painting on the wall. "Aunt Dorian, please don't shout. I just got Hope to sleep!"

Dorian balled her fist and pressed it to her forehead. "I'm sorry, honey," she apologized, looking up at Starr with sincerity. "I keep forgetting."

Starr slumped her shoulders, exasperated. "Old habits die hard, I guess." She relented to her aunt's apologetic gaze. "It's alright. She's probably getting used to sleeping through all the shouting around here anyway."

Dorian smiled at Starr as she pulled her gloves off. "Starr…." She looked around the room. "Is Langston still home?"

"Oh. She left about a half-hour ago, but she put her article in the other room." Starr gestured toward the door to the sitting room. "It's really good," she encouraged before disappearing back upstairs.

Dorian nodded and waited until Starr was gone before tossing her gloves onto the table and rushing into the other room to find Langston's work.

Amelia followed and draped her own coat over her arm as she propped her bag against the back of the couch. "Dorian… I want to apologize to you."

Dorian paused just long enough to ask, "For what?" before continuing.

Amelia wondered if Dorian had forgotten their exchange the night before. "It's just that I shouldn't have questioned you like I did yesterday after John McBain was here. It wasn't my place."

Dorian was distracted. "Already forgotten."

Amelia watched Dorian. "Do you mind if I stay and read through it, too?"

Dorian welcomed the opportunity to showcase Langston's writing talent. "Of course not – please do!"

The campaign materials that had littered the room before were cleared away, and Langston's article was bound in a purple folder with a pastel pink sticky note attached to the front of it. "Sorry I missed you," the note read. "Hope the meeting went well. Let me know if this needs to say more – or if I said too much." The note was signed with a large cursive "L" and a heart shape.

Dorian ran her thumb over the "L" before she flipped the folder open and read to herself. She stood in the middle of the floor as she poured over the editorial, so anxious to read it that she didn't take time to sit down.

Amelia stood nearby and smiled as she tried to interpret the expressions on Dorian's face. From what she could tell, Langston had written something that Dorian not only approved of, but also was touched by.

Dorian pursed her lips and released a long exhale as she paused to look up at the corner of the ceiling for a moment. When tears came to her eyes, she pretended to pace so that she could turn her back to Amelia and continue to read.

Amelia furrowed her brows in momentary concern. If Dorian had a weakness in this election, it was her girls, and Amelia knew it. The "Cramer women" were Dorian's soft spot, and the biggest threat to Dorian following through on her commitment to their upcoming gay nuptials. David was not much of a threat, as long as Dorian was on board. Amelia figured that between her own dedication and Dorian's pandering to his whims, David wouldn't be that hard to keep in check.

Still, it was heart-warming to see the secret, gentle side of Dorian. Amelia knew Dorian had turned her back on purpose so she took the hint and pulled out her laptop. She placed it on the small desk near the doors and acted as though she wasn't paying attention to Dorian.

"It sounds cliché, but words like concerned, compassionate, giving, genuine and aware are all words that describe mayoral candidate and my mother, Dorian Cramer Lord.

To many citizens of Llanview, Doctor Lord's reputation precedes her. Gossip about her past, personal life, recent political alliances, and her liberal stance on a number of relevant issues seem to be distractions.

However, long-time citizens of Llanview are also aware of the many services she has sponsored and volunteered her time to throughout the years - serving as both a doctor and the chief of staff at the hospital, playing a key role in prison reform, sponsoring various art exhibits, organizing civic functions to raise money for good causes, and representing our town and our nation as an Ambassador. She also supports the local economy through various business endeavors, and is a strong advocate for responsible family planning - supporting a woman's right to choose for herself what is best for her own well-being, as well as accepting that a strong family and a good home can define many different - even unconventional - groups of people.

What most people do not know is that Dorian Lord, despite her active involvement in her community, is an avid and passionate supporter of her own family, in every circumstance. Throughout her life, she helped care for her sisters and her nieces as well as rearing her own three daughters - including me.

As with any normal family, we have our disagreements, but I can honestly say that Dorian always has the best interests of those she loves at heart. Some might even say Dorian Lord is overzealous and overprotective when it comes to her family, but her youngest daughter could not be more grateful for those characteristics.

When I lost my parents, I was alone in the world and unable to deal with my grief. I didn't want to be alone, but at the same time, I didn't want anyone to know how alone I was. I knew that in order to survive, I had to be strong. I had to stand up, and I had to hide.

For a long time, I stood up, all by myself. Then the Cramer women - Dorian's family - found me. They taught me that I didn't have to be alone anymore, and when family services was about to remove me from my home, the town I grew up in, my school, and my friends, my best friend's Aunt Dorian learned of my situation and she stepped in without hesitation. After she brought me into this family, Dorian taught me that I could be strong, but still trust in other people who cared about me.

Simply adopting me to prevent an unpleasant circumstance was not Dorian's intention. As she has with all of "her girls," Dorian Cramer Lord opened her home and her heart, loving me with a devotion and passion that could only be rivaled by that of my own (biological) mother.

She is the core and the strength of our family. We depend on her and we take a piece of her strength with us every day. I absolutely cannot imagine myself with any other family, and I couldn't ask for a better mother.

I truly believe that, as with her family, Dorian Cramer Lord has continuously displayed her concern for, devotion to, and interest in the community of Llanview - a place she and her family have called home for many years.

Her stance on equality is no different, but that cause alone is not what defines her. What defines her is her strength and devotion to what is most important, and I can personally assure you that she has her priorities straight.

What can you say about a woman who will step in and take care of a person before they even realize they need help? How do you describe a person who goes to extreme lengths to protect the people and causes she loves? How do you characterize a woman who wants equal justice for all? What do you do to convey her relentless and generous devotion to her family, friends, and neighbors?

Are those not the qualities that this town needs to nurture it back from its reputation of corruption and the scars it garnered under recent leadership? I am here, as a person who knows Dorian Cramer Lord better than most, to tell you with complete sincerity that she deserves your vote for Llanview's next mayor."

Dorian took a deep breath and let it out as she admired the paper. Perhaps Langston had overused the word "family," but the piece was loving and very personal, and Dorian appreciated the comparison of Langston's situation with the state of the town. It filled her heart and bolstered her courage, though she could not help but wish that her Pulitzer Prize winning husband were there to read it, too – for many reasons.

A few moments after Dorian seemed to be finished reading, Amelia inquired, "Is it good?"

Dorian bit her lip as she smiled and nodded, and dabbed the corner of her eye before turning back around with a confident air. "She said I was as devoted and passionate as her biological mother," she gestured at the paper, "and that she couldn't imagine being in any other family than mine." Dorian grinned at Amelia.

Amelia returned a smile and nodded, allowing Dorian to keep the true depth of her emotions about Langston tucked away. She changed the subject. "The proofs are online if you want to check them out." She offered Dorian the use of her laptop in exchange for the purple folder.

Dorian sat down at the desk, proud and graceful, and gazed at the computer screen. She scrolled with the up and down arrows on the keyboard.

Amelia slipped to the back corner of the room to read Langston's article. She didn't expect to be as impressed with it as Dorian had been.

Dorian felt a tinge of headache at her temple and squinted as she repositioned the angle of the computer screen. She took a deep breath as she scrolled down the page of pictures, which all had neat, strategic watermarks.

She adored the second pose, in which she and Langston looked like honest-to-goodness family, with their dark eyes and hair and hands folded on top of each other. It looked traditional, even Victorian. Langston's light curls fell over her shoulder, capturing the hint of innocence and youth that still lingered in the sophisticated young lady.

There were several pictures that were similar, including one where she had taken Langston's hand and they had smiled at each other. When Dorian saw that shot, she was sure she wanted to order it and managed to use the track pad to check the box next to the picture.

She looked around at Amelia, who was leaning on the back of a chair and appeared to be in deep contemplation as she read Langston's article. She took a moment to inspect Amelia's expression, and decided it was one of interest.

Amelia was not just interested in Langston's words, but enthralled by them as she sat down to absorb what she was reading.

Being a part of Dorian's family had fulfilled the same need in Langston that being an active part of the LGLA had fulfilled in Amelia. She snuck a glance at Dorian out of the corner of her eye. If Dorian could be that person to a young girl in need of a family, she could sure as hell be an icon to people fighting for equal rights.

Without anyone even realizing it, Amelia had just bonded with Dorian. She nodded and raised her eyebrows, inspired and motivated in a way she hadn't been before.

The campaign was no longer just about helping Dorian win an election so that Amelia and the LGLA could use their candidate for their cause. She understood now that Dorian would stand up for them as long as they had her back.

It wasn't a chess game. It was a real, heart-felt, passionate fight for equality – as long as Dorian agreed. And if Amelia hadn't been convinced that Dorian was the right person for the job before, she sure was now.

Dorian was busy inspecting the next couple of pictures – the ones in which she and Langston were hugging. They were almost identical, except that in the second picture, her own eyes were closed.

Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head as she realized that she had lifted her heel to lean on her tiptoes and that Langston had bent her knees just enough to compensate for a difference in height that had been caused by the taller heels in Langston's shoes.

She frowned. The photographer should have caught that. She decided that he had seen it after the fact, since there was a cropped version of the picture that showed them from the back up.

She scrutinized the picture. It appeared that they had hugged each other with open palms that were settled on each other's backs. One of Dorian's hands had strayed upward to caress the back of Langston's head. Langston's head was turned and tilted toward Dorian's arm just enough that both of their faces were visible.

Dorian's was more of a profile – her eyes closed as if in grateful prayer or silent love as she relished the moment in her daughter's arms. Langston was smiling and looking up as if in love or inspired, happy to be receiving Dorian's embrace.

It was absolutely beautiful – a perfect moment. It took Dorian's breath away. She stared at it for a while, keeping diligent control of her emotions, in awe, until she noticed Amelia standing over her, observing.

Startled, Dorian offered her first thought. "I want this picture on billboards." She meant for it to come out as a strong statement, but her voice was quiet.

Amelia grinned and nodded as she leaned over the desk beside Dorian and moved the cursor with one hand on the track pad. She checked the selection box next to the picture and gave Dorian a concerned look when the woman sighed. "Hey, are you okay?"

Dorian nodded and smiled. "Oh, I'm fine," she offered. "A little tired. What did you think of Langston's article?"

Amelia laid the folder down next to Dorian and took her laptop to the couch. "It's great," she emphasized without elaborating on the details. "I want to sit down with her sometime tomorrow and have her stress some of the good points she made … if that's okay?"

Dorian nodded. "Why not tonight?"

Amelia looked around. She was sure that whatever movie Langston and Markko had gone to see couldn't be over yet. "When do you expect her home?"

"Oh." Dorian sighed as she held her arm out and her head back to check her watch. It wasn't even nine yet. "Well … she has been staying out all hours as of late." She scowled with disdain. "Ever since Markko and Cole got that apartment." She stared at the phone but reminded herself that Langston was a responsible young lady.

Amelia traced Dorian's gaze to the nearby phone. "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked again. "You seem a bit … on edge? You're not worried about the press, are you?"

Dorian jerked her head toward Amelia. That thought hadn't even occurred to her. She rubbed her forehead and then sighed, gesturing at the laptop Amelia held. "Langston is all grown up."

Amelia wondered, looking between the computer and Dorian's wistful expression. The wheels in her mind turned as she contemplated her new understanding of Dorian's family, and the fact that Langston and Starr were the same age. She hesitated before making the suggestion that popped into her mind. "Did you ever think about adopting another child?"

Dorian was taken aback by Amelia's suggestion. Her initial response was, "Of course not. I love my girls … my family … and the last thing we need…." She let her mind catch up before she finished her sentence. She did not want to imply that having a baby in the house was a burden. She also considered the reasons that Amelia would make such a suggestion.

Amelia lifted her brows, noting Dorian's thoughts. "You do love children. I know adoption and foster care are of concern, and it would be a good way to pull attention away from this whole marriage thing."

Dorian stood and crossed the floor to look out at the darkened terrace as she spoke. Her voice was terse. "Not to mention – yes, detracting attention from our gay marriage, but putting the focus right back on gay families and parental rights." She shot an accusing glance over her shoulder at Amelia.

"It would be putting the focus on family values. Your very strong family values," Amelia tried to convince Dorian, pointing at Langston's editorial.

Dorian slapped the top of the nearby bureau, rattling the number of small, framed pictures and vases on it. "Amelia, you're forgetting, aren't you … that we – you and I," she gestured between them, " – are lesbians together…?" She shook her head and threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

"Oh, that's right," Amelia argued with sarcasm, nodding her head at Dorian dramatically. "Right … we're lesbians … so even if we wanted to adopt a child together…."

"Oh, cut the crap, Amelia," Dorian interrupted, scolding. "Face the facts. No matter what I do – no matter how well intentioned – at this point, it is all going to be seen as one big, fat, gay political agenda! And that part ...is not-my-fault." She ran the last three words together, emphasizing them with a finger in the air.

Amelia stood and took a step toward Dorian, turning her chin as she eyed her. "How does that feel to you?" she asked. "To know that just because people see you as a lesbian, everything you do is defined by that?"

Dorian gave in and looked down at her fingernails. "Point made." She swallowed. "But." She lifted her finger back into the air as she looked up at Amelia again. "If I ever adopted again, it would be out of love – not for any agenda or election." She paused in thought. "Besides, it would be a far better strategy to adopt right before my second term, and use it to get re-elected."

Amelia grinned, very amused. "Yep," she nodded in agreement.

Dorian frowned again, frustrated and annoyed at herself for entertaining the thought. "I have a headache. I wonder if we still have those Belgian chocolates I ordered." She reminded herself not to shout as she headed for the kitchen.

Dorian could drive a person crazy, but it was endearing when it wasn't infuriating.

Amelia massaged her own forehead in thought as she turned to place the order for the photographs. She was still working on sending the order when she heard a buzzing noise coming from the foyer.

A quick investigation proved that Dorian had left her cell phone on silent mode. Before Amelia could decide whether to take the phone to the kitchen, she noticed the name on the screen.

Curious, she looked around the room and waited for the voice mail icon to appear. She moved to the far side of the stairs and tucked herself in the corner as she tried the V-pattern she had seen Dorian punch in a few times, starting with two ones.

It took a few tries to crack the code – one one zero six.

There was a long pause on the recording, as if the call had been accidental, but after several seconds a deep voice with an impatient Latin accent broke through the silence. "Dorian, I need you. You have to pick up the phone sometime. Please return my call."

Amelia's eyes widened. His request sounded more like a demand. Her mind raced in slight panic. Dorian's insistence on dodging the subject of Ray Montez was rooted in her actual avoidance of any contact with him. It seemed there was much more to it than a simple parting of the ways.

A sinking feeling in Amelia's gut told her that Ray's attempt to reach Dorian did not bode well for their campaign – or future marriage. The world slowed around her as she scrambled to delete Ray's message and the record of his call before anyone saw her with Dorian's phone. She felt justified in the fact that Dorian was already evading the man.

She gasped a sigh of relief as she placed the cell phone in the exact place on the table where she had found it and returned to her laptop to finish the order she was placing.

She wondered if she could broach the subject of Ray Montez before the night ended. She had to wonder about the terms of his departure, and she was more uneasy about Dorian's reluctance to discuss him … among other things … than ever.

#OLTL #One Life to Live #Turning Leaves #A/U #fanfic #Dorian Lord #Amelia Bennett #Langston Wilde #Starr Manning #Ray Montez #Election Storyline

[prairiechzhead]

Venting Because I Need To

I’ve decided that Tumblr is my safe space. I know, I know, some people who will see this will laugh at me and point and make some remark about now naive I am. After all, this is the Internet.  Except Tumblr kind of reminds me of blogging as it used to be about 15 years ago, before niches and monetizing and all that. 

I’m thinking that I may need a FB break again. I have a Twitter and I haven’t been on it in over two weeks. I don’t miss it.  Bottom line, it’s people I need to get away from. Maybe it’s because I’m in raging bitch PMS mode with hot flashes thrown in, but right now, people suck and are stupid and I have reached the upper limits of my tolerance for stupidity and other people’s whining and butthurt and lack of understanding on the concept of tact.

Warning: I’m About to Vent About Facebook. 

Names of people and specific groups are omitted. If anyone or any group resembles one you know or belong to, it is NOT a coincidence. It is probably who you are thinking of. 

First, there is the behavior of grown-ass adults in some of the Aidan Turner FB groups. Bullying by grown-ass women to other grown women over an actor that none of them will ever meet in person. I’m pretty sure if he saw their behavior, he’d be disgusted by it. 

One recent example goes like this. Basically, a bunch of women decided it would be okay to bully a woman who doesn’t speak English as her first language because she had some trouble expressing what she wanted to say in English. Even after she explained that English wasn’t her first language and then went on to clarify what she meant, but a few of them just kept on. One of them even insisted that the non-English speaker try to accommodate HER (the chief bully in this situation). Give me a fucking break, lady. YOU try learning a second language and go into a group of native speakers and lets see how well YOU do at trying to speak fluently and with clarity.  Then there is one particular person, who shall remain anonymous here, but she is such a self-important bitch, I can’t fucking stand her. She deliberately stirs up trouble and then when the admin has enough of her bullshit, she goes into other groups to whine about how thin-skinned people are and that everyone else is wrong and she is right. 

No, honey. You’re a troll. Try to get over yourself long enough to realize that the common denominator in all of this is YOU. 

This person is also arrogant enough to be pissed off when the owners of stock photography sites contact her and threaten her with legal action because she removes THEIR watermark without paying for the picture. 

Also, hon, you can take someone else’s image and put your own watermark on it and claim it as yours, but it’s not yours. 

Then there’s how much of a control freak she is. If you don’t answer her post the way she wants you to, she will delete it and repost it. And delete it and repost. And delete it and repost it. 

I have a list of things that annoy me about some of the groups in general. 

1. The Prudes

In general, prudishness doesn’t bother me unless the prude in question tries to impose their prudishness on the rest of us. What bothers me is when The Prude joins a group that says in the description it’s “18+ because we get raunchy”, and then post a flounce post about how offended they are at the raunchiness and how they’re disappointed and that Aidan wouldn’t approve or something like that (I doubt he would care) and that they’re leaving. 

Don’t let the door hit you in your uptight ass on the way out. 

2. The Anti-Smoking Zealots

I’m not going to argue about the health effects of smoking. For the record, I am an ex-smoker. My psychology background affords me an understanding of the mechanics of addiction and the brain. (I won’t bore you with that because it’s long.) 

It’s not so much that they express concern or an opinion on the fact that Aidan smokes or that he has been photographed with a cigarette. It’s the sanctimonious bullshit that people say that really annoys me. I heard the same sanctimonious bullshit when I smoked and all it did was annoy me. It didn’t push me to quit. Some of the sanctimonious bullshit veers into personal insults towards Aidan himself. 

But wait! There’s more!

And if you tell these harpies to get off their high horses (and when they do, they’d better remember to tuck and roll), they play the “I”m allowed to have opinions” card. 

You are allowed to have opinions. It’s not what you say. It’s HOW you say it. You can express your dislike of smoking without being a twat. And there is nothing written in stone that says you’re required to express your opinion out loud, especially when you do so in a way that makes you look like the world’s biggest twat, ESPECIALLY when you begin personally insulting an actor whom you profess to love. 

We get it. You think smoking is bad. There’s no need for you to be insulting or a sanctimonious twat about it. 

3. His Love Life.

When I was 13-14 years old, I had a mad crush on John Taylor of Duran Duran. At that age, I didn’t want to see or hear about or even know that he had a girlfriend. And if any of the teen rags I read back then published a picture of him and whomever he was dating at the time, I absolutely HATED the poor woman. 

I was 14 then. My brain was not done developing. I was going through changes and emotions that I didn’t yet understand. I was in the throes of puberty. I was just learning about the havoc that hormones will wreak upon me, my moods, and pretty much everything else. 

But when you’re in your 40s or 50s? Or even your 60s? Sorry, but being jealous over a GF is immature. And petty. And doesn’t reflect very well on you. 

Maybe you have this overwhelming urge to mother Aidan, but you are NOT his mother. His love life is none of your business. Bashing whomever he chooses to see or date and if this relationship is serious or not is none of your business. 

I think this one irritates me moreso because I have an adult son and I NEVER trashed who he was dating. It was his business. I’ve also been the woman in the relationship where the man’s mother can’t keep her nose out of our business. 

There is a subsection of this group who think it’s not normal for a man to be 33 years old and not married yet. Maybe that was normal when you were 33, but times have changed. 

5. The Insecure Fans

These are the people who constantly spam some groups with their damned clickbait polls. I’m not talking about legit polls like from the Radio Times. 

The people who keep spamming us with this crap are so insecure as fans. One person even resorted to emotional blackmail to get people to vote for Aidan in some poll that I, because I live in the US, probably can’t vote in anyway. Hon, the BBC isn’t going to base their decision to commission a 4 season of Poldark because I didn’t vote in some poll. Seriously, this is what this person did. Oh, please. Give me a break. 

This same person, by the way, was one of the chief instigators of the bullying incident involving a non-native English speaker. 

Coincidentally, this same person also was the instigator in bullying a person because that person was not sufficiently outraged that Aidan was not nominated for some award I never heard of “because a real fan would be upset”. 

No, sister. You don’t get to dictate what “real fans” would do. A “real fan” certainly wouldn’t bully people who aren’t outraged enough to your liking NOR would they start trashing his costar, who was nominated, BECAUSE she was nominated and Aidan wasn’t. 

There are other things that annoy me, but it’s not a big enough thing for me to give it a number and a bolded name. The lack of imagination some people display in the “what would you like to see him do next” posts makes me want to throttle some imagination into their sorry heads. If I hear “Bond” or “Heathcliff” or “Period Drama” one more time...

And finally...

If there is one thing I learned this week is that , should I ever meet Aidan Turner and I come away from the encounter with a picture of the two of us on my cell phone, I’m not going to share it on Instagram. Or if I do, I’m going to lock my damned account before I do. 

Well, this took longer than I intended. I guess I had a lot to get off my chest. 

#venting #musings #people kind of suck right now #facebook sucks even more than usual lately #personal rant #can't post this on Facebook