Tumgik
#if anyone is desperate and actually wants them feel free to hmu
charlicpace · 6 years
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upon finding the initial gif pack, i also found some other gifs in my personal jac folder which were made by me, so i thought i’d share these too. because they’re varying sizes and episodes and whatnot, i’ve put them on a separate page to the main gif pack, and these are just a bonus. so, CLICK HERE to be directed to twenty-two gifs of JACQUELINE JOSSA as lauren branning in EASTENDERS. please LIKE/REBLOG if you use/save, and please don’t claim them as your own, steal them, edit and redistribute, add to gif hunts, or use for anything other than roleplaying purposes. enjoy !
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trigger warnings: none ! episodes: n/a. no idea, i’m pretty sure i got the videos from youtube. the first eight gifs are from early-mid 2017, if my memory serves me correctly, and the others are a couple of years older. 
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keisurou · 3 years
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build it up
(ft. koutarou bokuto)
minors dni. 
wc: 3.2k
Warnings: semi-public sex (in the locker room?), doggy style, mirror sex, mutual masturbation, blowjob, atsumu x kiyoomi ship, atsumu being a lil’ shit and drilling ideas into bo’s head, not edited. 
So my friends and I were fangirling discussing and apparently personality-wise, I’m basically a mix of Akaashi and Kenma, and it kinda makes sense because my top two comfort characters are Kuroo and Bokuto. Anyways, this is just a lil’ thing I wanted to try out, and again, this is not edited (i did edit it, and then my laptop just DIED so now its all gone. *sobs*) - does anyone want to be a beta-reader?? Because I literally went on a road trip with my family and just typed this in the car the entire time while my brothers screamed nonsense bs next to me. Hmu if you’re actually interested :) 
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“Babe,” Bokuto murmurs into your neck, drawing out the word, his hair still damp and smoothed down from his shower not too long ago. You’re trying to focus on the pile of research assignments in front of you, but the way your fiance is rubbing circles on your back has you rereading the same sentence multiple times. “I heard something I wanna try,” 
“Hmm?” You hum noncommittally, encouraging him to continue, but you don’t look away from the papers. He frowns, frustration clawing at his belly and lets out a small grunt as he paws at your thighs exposed by your silk pyjamas. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to him and run your fingers through his damp locks before ruffling them slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired? You have practice tomorrow morning, don’t you?” 
He doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on your lips and the way your tongue peeks out ever so slightly to wet your bottom lip only for a second. Bokuto has been strung tight lately; he had just returned from a training camp after being away from you for an entire week. He had been so excited to come home to you; he missed your smiles, your soft agreements, the way you came apart and lost yourself under his touch. But instead, he came home to you fully decked out in your ‘no sex’ gear. That’s right, from the ten piles of papers you had to mark, and a brand new box of red felt tips, you were ready for five days of no sleep, no fun, and absolutely nothing frisky with Bokuto. Needless to say, he almost cried when he first stepped into the apartment. 
But now, with only ten research papers left, you were practically finished. “Babe, let’s cuddle tonight,” You give him a look, and he deflates only a little before quickly adding, “I’ll be good, I swear,” 
“Kou-kun,” you lean in and give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he’s so touch starved that he sits motionless, absorbing the way your lips brush against his skin for as long as he can. “You’re always good.” You move away, and he quickly grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “But if I finish up here today, I won’t be able to see you play tomorrow,” 
He’s silent as he contemplates this and then promptly hooks a hand around your waist and pulls you to him. His lips slant over yours, and it only takes you a second to melt into the kiss, hands flying to the hem of his t-shirt to drag him closer. Your lips are warm, and he can taste the sweetness of cherries from the dizzying brush of your tongue. He leans back against the sofa, and you clamber onto his lap, your softness meeting the hard planes of his body as you kiss along the smooth column of his neck. There is nothing sexier than the way you press a kiss before nibbling along his jaw, and his hands automatically find their way under your sleep shirt to squeeze at a naked breast. 
You let out a strangled moan and immediately press your body to his chest, halting his movements. Bokuto’s eyes widen as he tentatively brushes a thumb on the underside of your breast, only for you to shudder. “Koutarou, wait,” you pant softly, grabbing at his arm to pull it from your chest. “I’m really sensitive today, and it hurts if you squeeze too roughly,” 
“Why?”
“I’m on my period,” you say simply, and he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head. 
“So, no sex?” 
You shake your head, and his erection throbs painfully in his shorts as it strains against the material, somehow understanding the situation but not exactly cooperating. You get up to clear the table, and when you stretch, he can clearly see the way your nipples poke through the flimsy fabric, almost as if begging for his attention. He’s up, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in the scent of your hair. “Can I massage them?” 
You pause, and when you don’t respond for a few seconds, he cups one breast through the shirt, palming it softly until you melt under his touch. “O-Okay, but no sex,” 
He murmurs out a thank you, his golden eyes sparkling, and he’s glad you don’t question his enthusiasm. Once in the shared bedroom, he strips your shirt off your body watches with hooded eyes as you crawl over to join him at the centre of the bed. 
His fingers brush against a peaked nipple before slowly pushing down on the nub, and you let out a soft whine before cupping your other breast yourself, rotating the flesh in small circles. 
Bokuto briefly wonders how long it could take to make you cum just from your tits, and he turns it into a personal mission for tonight. He pulls at the free nipple, and you gasp sharply. Your reaction brings a lazy grin on his face, and he brings you to sit on top of him, the outline of his erection pressing against your ass so he can feel at least some sort of friction. He swats your hand away and pulls a nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling the flesh softly as your thighs tremble around his waist. The first contact of his teeth against your sensitive nipple has your breath hitching deliciously as you chant his name, and he does it again, wanting to commit the sound to memory. 
“K-Koutarou, please. I’m going to-”
He switches to the other breast and bites down on the nipple without warning. Your hands fly to the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest as he soothes the abused skin with long strokes of his tongue. The way you pull at his hair sends sharp jolts of pain, and you realise that each time you tug at his locks, he puts his teeth to work. 
You tug at his hair again, and he smiles as he bites down for a second. He takes satisfaction in the way you tremble and grind against him when he tugs at a hardened bud with his fingers, twisting and rolling the nub until it borders on pain and pleasure. He’s going to make you come like this even if he doesn’t get any sleep.  
Minutes later, you tremble, your hands feebly pushing at Bokuto, and he leans back only slightly. He watches with wide eyes as you roll your hips, the movements unstable and shaky, almost frenzied. Your fingers squeeze at a breast and pull at the tip of the other, and you let out a breathy moan at the sharp streak of pain that quickly turns into pleasure. “K-Kou-kun. I’m s-so close. So close.” You whine out in both pleasure and frustration and reach for his hands so he can help you finish the job. “Please,” 
You don’t notice the way Bokuto’s erection grows bigger from under you. He loves it when you beg for him like this, eyes glazed with lust without a care in the world except for how quickly you’ll come. It’s so intoxicating, and you look so desperate that he can’t help but want to tease you until you’re ruined.  But tonight, there was no way; you wouldn’t be getting any help from him until he gets off on the image of you sobbing for his fingers and his tongue. 
He watches as your eyes widen when you see him take out his cock and grip himself at the base. The tip is red and weeping, and when he smears the fluid all over the head, he’s delighted to see the way you lick your lips and lean forward, entranced. “What is it, puppy?” He purrs and grips himself at the base before moving up to the tip and coming back down again. The way your eyes follow the movement is incredibly sexy, but it’s the tremble in your lower lip that has him growing harder. “F-Fuck. Shit, you want my cock? I thought you said no sex.” 
There’s a whine of frustration, and at this point, he can’t tell if it’s from you or him, but the way you rub your thighs together and tug at your nipples has him lifting his hips, craving the friction he can’t have. There are now tears in your eyes as you sniffle.  For a fleeting moment, Bokuto considers sliding your underwear to the side; your period be damned, and fucking you into the mattress until the bedsheet is soaked with your tears. His cock twitches in agreement at the mental image, and a shudder goes down his spine. 
Instead, he gives himself a few more rough strokes and closes his eyes, listening to your moans echo in the room before he groans, loud and low, as his release lands messily on the bedsheets. 
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Bokuto is restless at practice the morning after, and everyone knows this because his performance was downright terrible. On the rare occasions when he did score a point, there was no hey, hey, hey, no burst of confidence, no nothing. 
There had been days on end where the team would have done anything short of murder to shut Bokuto up, but now that he had, they had no idea what to do. Well, except Atsumu, of course. The setter sauntered over, his lips stretched into a cocky smirk. “Bokkun, what are ya mopin’ about for? Did yer girlfriend leave ya all needy?”
Bokuto grumbled sourly at the blonde before promptly turning away. “I’m not moping.” And when Atsumu raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, Bokuto only sighs and leans back on his elbows. Surprisingly, that’s all the setter needs to understand the situation and begins to laugh. 
The entire situation is infuriatingly unfair, especially since it was, in fact, Atsumu who had drilled in the idea of having sex in semi-public places. Bokuto usually didn’t care to listen to the gossip of others much, unless it was related to volleyball or you. During the training camp, the blond setter had been describing how hot it was to do it in a semi-public place where there was a high chance of getting caught, much to Kiyoomi’s chagrin. Bokuto genuinely cannot bring himself to care because obviously sex feels good all the time, so why would doing it outside make it any different? Atsumu had just tutted when Bokuto explained this to him before asking him about you, and that definitely got his attention. 
“Bokkun, do ya know what kinks yer girlfriend has?” 
“She doesn’t have any,” Bokuto’s response had been immediate, and Atsumu just stared, wondering if the hyperactive male was just pulling his leg. But he wasn’t - Bokuto genuinely knew you didn’t have any because of course you would tell him as soon as you discovered one, right? 
“She seriously never told ya?” 
“Maybe she just doesn’t know.” 
Atsumu had spluttered indignantly to his excuse, equal parts horrified and insulted that Bokuto could even think about suggesting such a thing. 
Needless to say, ever since then, Bokuto has been trying to find out more of the things that make you tick in bed. He’d already found two last night, and his body was already tense, eager to find out more today. Especially since you said you’d be visiting after handing back all the papers to your students. They all wrapped up practice, with Meian giving Bokuto extra laps around the gym. By the time he had finished the required amount, Hinata and Meian were about to leave but had stopped to greet you for a few minutes. The sight of you leaning against the door, your lips pulled up into a soft smile filled him with restless energy and he took a swig of his water before making his way to you. 
“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice booms, echoing off the walls and you swivel around to grin at him. There is a collective sigh of relief from the other members as they leave the court gym and he sees the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He practically sprints to you and pulls you into a bear hug. He knows he’s sweating and that he probably stinks, but that all takes a back seat as your arms come around to wrap around his waist as you breathe in the feel of him. “Are you feeling better?”
You nod and lean up, puckering your lips to give him a short kiss, and his heart squeezes before he leans down to meet your lips halfway. When you pull back, your face is flushed, and you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m all better today, we can go wherever you want and do whatever you feel like,”
His golden eyes glint dangerously under the low lighting of the hall, and you immediately know that you’re in trouble. “Now?”
He can see the way your breath hitches and throat constricts as you let out a little whimper. Your voice reaches a higher octave as you whisper out a “Now?” and he suddenly wishes that he could drag you to the locker room in front of everyone. He realises with a start that Atsumu had been right all along and expects the fact to rub him the wrong way, but the thought is pushed to the back as you let out a timid nod. 
That’s all he needs. He drags you into the locker room, too impatient to bother with the intricacies of the lock. Everyone had gone home anyway, so what did it even matter? As soon as he sits down, you push his thighs apart and situation yourself between them. Your hands fly to the hem of his gym shorts as you gaze up at him, and the whisper of friction that your fingers provide already has his cock swelling in his boxers. 
The first contact your tongue made with his cock has him hardening even further as he sinks his fingers into your hair. He can’t take his eyes off the way your hot tongue glides up the curve of his dick before swirling around the tip and- 
“Fuck. Fuck. Wait, baby-Don’t-”
You take him into your mouth, one hand softly massaging his balls, and all the protests die in his throat almost instantly. He chokes at the sight of you on your knees and your pretty, pretty mouth stretched around his fat cock. There are tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him in any further, and there’s nothing in the word that could make him look away. He thrusts his hips up only slightly, taking you off guard and forcing more of his length into your mouth as you gag around his size. 
You make a sound at the back of your throat as you drool around his cock, and it sends waves of vibrations throughout his length. Bokuto eases out of your mouth, and the stark coldness that hits the sensitive skin has him hardening even further. “You did so good, puppy,” he pants out his praise and comes up behind you before he pushes you forward so that you’re on your hands and knees. You’re such a pretty sight that he has to stop himself from entering you straight away. “Are you comfortable, babe? Think you can take it like this?” 
You nod vigorously and hold his gaze through the mirror. The head of his cock is leaking and angry, and he’s half tempted to bury himself balls deep inside you without warning. But the moment he pushes the tip inside your wet heat, you arch your back, and his hips jerked forward, craving the way your slick walls spammed around his length. 
“S-Shit—” Bokuto grits out, relishing the way the unmistakable sound of your arousal squelching around his cock echoes in the locker room. “God, you’re so fucking messy- baby, I can’t—” his words end on a whine and tries to push himself further inside you, his hands going to grip your hair to wrap it around his fingers. 
There’s a low guttural moan from you, and when he looks up, his gut clenches at the sight of your thoroughly fucked face. He wants to commit it all to memory - the way your tongue lolls out while your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out for him because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this. He pulls at your hair slightly and immediately feels you clench around him. 
He does it again, harder. 
Your whimpers thunder in his ears, and he leans forward until he has you completely underneath him, chest grazing the back of your shoulders as he braces his entire weight on his arm. His tongue and teeth are relentless on the flushed tips of your ear, laving the sensitive skin before nipping it harshly as he thrusts into you. “You’re such a pretty puppy, aren’t you? Fucked dumb and drooling on my cock,”
You sob at this, your words slurring. “K-Kou, s’close—” His thrusts become short and fast, reaching deeper as your walls dragging along his cock deliciously. The way you’re needy heat is sucking him in leaves him breathless, his hips stuttering with effort as he struggles to go faster and faster and— 
Your walls flutter around his girth, clenching down and squeezing so tightly that he can’t help but arch his back, hands gripping your hips to bring you closer, the curve of your ass flush against his abs. He ruts into you harshly, trying to fuck you through your orgasm, and it’s the loud slapping of skin on skin that mixes perfectly with your lewd keens that have his dick spasming and finally sends him over the edge. 
For a moment, all he can hear are the heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, skin slick and glistening with sweat, but then his ears perk up at the telltale whisper of footsteps shuffling. Somewhere, right outside the door, a broomstick topples over something, and he swears he can hear the hushed bickering of Atsumu and Kiyoomi. 
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Thank you for reading :) 
Taglist: @lukehemmingsfan101​ @the-actual-audrey @Dontmindme:) @potaytopothato @jadasz @momoraen​ (those in bold could not be tagged). 
Click here for my taglist. If you would like to stop being on my taglist, please just send me a message. 
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loopy-froots · 3 years
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Introduction Post! (TW: SA, PTSD, etc.)
Hello slasher fandom! I’m fairly new to this side of tumblr, so forgive me if I don’t understand how all this works yet! I just thought I’d introduce myself because I’ve already posted drawings and fanfiction writings so far, but maybe some of you want to know who’s behind it? If not that’s totally fine, just keep scrolling! But if you’re curious, keep reading! Btw! I’d love to get to know any of you as well, so feel free so say hi! :^]
Facts about me:
I go by the name Donn on this blog (for safety reasons I won’t be sharing my actual or preferred name anywhere on this blog, sorry!)
I chose the name Donn because of the name coming from the Celtic god of dead souls (I’m a Celtic witch by blood so I thought it’d be fitting)
My preferred pronouns when I write are she/they (leaning towards she atm because of some personal issues I deal with irl, but irl I prefer they/them more strictly… does that make any sense?)
Anyways, I’m 18+ and I very much prefer my viewers to be 18+ ONLY because of the NSFW content I post… and I also don’t want to influence anyone that impressionable cuz I have a kinda fucked up mindset atm…
But I hope that’s alright! I know kids will do what they want, and there’s not always much we can do to stop it, but please just be respectful of my wishes and DNI!
I have severe PTSD from many irl traumas that have happened to me throughout my life, and I currently live in an kind of abusive household, so my mental health has not been good…
That’s partially why I started drawing and writing fandom stuff cuz it’s currently what’s keeping me going!
I have diagnosed Adhd, but I take meds for it and am doing slightly better with my productivity! That’s why I’ve been able to crank out as much content as I have in the past few days!
I have undiagnosed autism, but it’s a work in progress cuz I’m like pretty sure I am autistic (for many reasons, the more you get the know me the more obvious it’ll get)
I am disabled in many ways: chronic physical and mental pain/illnesses, hard of hearing, etc.
I’m extremely liberal so DNI if you’re gonna be a bigot or anything cuz I will block you!
I have a partner (Who does not know about this blog yet cuz I’m v shy about sharing this kinda stuff with the people I love… partially cuz of my trauma from past relationships)
Ive suffered from THREE separate abusive romantic relationships… all of which kinda fucked with my head… so forgive my insecurities and everything! (I’m working on it tho!) but this partner I’m currently with is AMAZING AND LOVING so I’m v happy with them!
TW! I’m a S/A survivor, and it was by a friend I trusted, so I get very skittish by people irl because of the betrayal… but I find it easier to get to know people online cuz it’s not as traumatic imo
As you can see, I overshare EVERYTHING for literally no reason… like it just gushes out of me without me being able to stop it… Sorry if you’re unhappy with it! Feel free to block me if it bothers you!
I am currently seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist!! They both help me a lot with functioning as a normal person (even tho there’s no real such thing as a “normal” person imo, but it helps me survive in the society I live in)
I used to be goth, but now I’m forever torn between being goth again or being a cottagecore lesbian lol (I usually dress femme even tho my brain makes me feel like a boy a lot of the time…?)
I am extremely bisexual! Like holy shit! How come everyone is so hot?? Lol but seriously, I go all ways (I know some people say that’d make me pan but I prefer the term bisexual over being pan)
I used to be a little, but I’m not anymore because too many people took advantage of me when I was in my little mindset… I don’t let myself regress anymore unless I’m absolutely alone, but that’s rarely ever (my little age was around 10 btw)
I am extremely sensitive and am an empath! I feel my emotions EXTREMLY STRONG so I overreact to everything, am very passionate about the things I’m in love with, and cry at any given moment! I cannot and will not help it! I’ve been told too many times that I’m too sensitive and that I’m a crybaby and that my heart is too big for my body, but I don’t care anymore! Im refusing to see this as anything but a blessing for now on! Sensitive bitches are the baddest bitches lol
I used to get lots of hallucinations/psychosis, but I take meds for it and am now much better and less paranoid!
I still get paranoid about social situations tho for time to time, as im a very insecure person :(
Im a switch/power bottom! I like to be dominant on occasion, but I prefer to be a bratty sub most of the time!
I am a collector of taxidermy things!! I have several insects on my walls, as well as animal paw jewelry! If you don’t like it that’s alright! Just don’t tell me cuz I will block you! I make sure all my collection items are from humane sources and all the animals die naturally in the wild!
I am a HARDCORE clown/masked person fan… like clowns are sooo gay and sexy like why must you jingle jangle your lil clown bells when you dance like that??😩 and masked persons are just so mysterious and sexy omg
Cicero fro Skyrim was literally my clown sexual awakening… murder clown man… with a squeaky voice… yes… must have!
My first sexual awakening tho was probably Danny Phantom (Which is sooo funny cuz my partner actually named themself after him… coincidence? I think not! God does have a plan! Lol jk… unless?🥺👉🏻👈🏻)
Yes, I use the 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 emojis unironically… no, I’m not proud of it😔
HMU if you relate to any of this or just want to be friends! I’m literally so desperate for friends cuz my old roommate made me cut ties with them and then they spread rumors about me to all my other friends until no one would talk to me anymore… :( so I’m v lonely run…
But anyways, yeah that’s basically me… a huge mess but I’m on my way to getting better I guess…?
If you’re still reading all of this, THANK YOU KIND BEING! You are unlike any other…🥺❤️
Okay bye loves!
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angelicspaceprince · 4 years
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Ruined Suits
Author: Toby
Title: Ruined Suits
Pairing: Scarafaggio/Reader, Reader/OC
Character/s: Scarafaggio
Word Count: 2, 882 words
Warnings: Smut (18+ only please), BDSM, caning, collaring, being chained to the floor. All sorts. Also, I don’t really write Gio, so proceed with caution.
Tags: N/A
Prompt: You had no idea that Gio would even own a suit so expensive. In hindsight, his punishment for you was for good reason.
Notes: So, basically, there was some discussion a while ago in the discord about the dons catching you wearing their clothes. I, personally, wasn’t there when it went down but.....it left me for some food for thought. Gio isn’t my fave, this was more for a friend than anything else, so at the end it might be OOC? Idk, I’m still testing him out.
Requests are open, commissions are back open. HMU if you want anything so we can talk it out.
Buy Me a Coffee
Ruined Suits
In your defence, you had no idea that the suit was nearly $100, 000. The words ‘Dormeuil Vanquish II’ meant nothing to you. What did mean something to you, was that it was soft, it smelt nice and it was Gio’s. Gio, the man with good taste, the man who wants you to be comfortable. The man who would murder you if he found out you were stretching and warping the shape of his expensive suit as you wandered around the smoking room, fiddling with his cane, giving out fake orders in a very, very poor imitation of the man
It amused you, mostly because you knew you wouldn’t get caught. Gio was off at some function and wasn’t meant to be home for at least another hour or so-
“What are you doing?” You pause at the sound of a very, very unimpressed voice filling the room. You slowly, slowly turn to face Gio, taking note of the red beginning to thread through his hair. He takes in the sight of you, oversized pants scrunched up at your feed, a shirt that was meant for Gio being stretched out, even though you left some buttons undone in order not to pop them with your chest, his blazer and shirt sleeves rolled up so you had your hands free and his cane currently being used as a baton. 
Your hands move as you bounce your two pointer fingers together, your other fingers curled in with your thumbs standing up, pouting up at him as you try to cute yourself out of the situation. “I thought I looked adorable?”
He. Was not impressed. “Take it off.”
“Make me.” The words fall from your lips before you have a chance to hold them back, but you stand your ground. No, this was your time to be the top. You were in charge.
“Y/N. I’m going to count to three.” He warns, taking a step forward, out of the doorway and closer towards you. His presence fills the room more than he actually does, almost intimidatingly so. But even then. He can’t knock you down, not when you are on your high horse.
“No.” You say again. “I’m Daddy now.”
Gio doesn’t respond with words more as he just lets out a growl and charges towards you. In that split second, your bravado waivers and you make a mad dash out of the room and towards the safety of your bedroom.
But he doesn’t chase after you, oh no. He takes his time, smelling you out as he slowly follows. It feels like he is in every corner of every room like Gio had managed to fill the house with himself. Every shadow appeared to be intimidating, every closed door just another place where Gio could be hiding, waiting for you. Every time you trip over the too-long pant legs, you stumble and look around the room, a deer in headlights, fearing that he would be just behind you. He never was. And that felt more terrifying than if he was in the room.
You manage to get up the stairs, breathless already as you pause to take a breather - knowing that you were using up valuable time. You are certain Gio is behind you, less than an arms-length away. Your belief only strengthens when you can hear him talking, clear as day. As if he was right there beside you. “Where is it you think you can hide from me? I know this house better than anyone, little mouse, I built it from the ground up. I know every brick, every pipe, every little pebble that is in this house, as well as every little hiding space that my home has to offer. If you think there is a single alcove or crevice that would keep you from me, you are sorely mistaken. You will never escape me, piccolo coniglio. So it’s best that you don't even try." His voice is low, echoing, full of an ancient power you forgot that he had, that being reason alone for causing a shiver to run down your spine. If you concentrate, it is almost like it is seeping out of the walls around you. Perhaps giving chase was a bad idea to begin with. Perhaps you should just give up now, hope he grants you mercy. That would be the saner idea.
You keep running.
By some miracle, you end up in your room, diving under the bed, trying to level and control your breathing as you listen carefully, hearing carefully measured footsteps enter each room and walk out. You were hoping that you wearing his clothes would, at the very least, hinder his endeavour to find you, just enough for you to escape to Zhuk or Bee, someone who can protect you from the angry Italian.
You managed to get one more breath before the door to your room opens. You curl in on yourself, wanting to be as small as possible as he slowly paces the room, audibly sniffing at the air. Your heart comes to a pounding stop when you realise he’s stopped walking, stopped sniffing. He’s just standing somewhere in the room but you have no idea where. A dark chuckle rings in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Oh piccola, did you really think you could hide from me in here?” His amusement comes off in waves as you cling to his cane, ready to use it to defend yourself at any moment.
The hand that shot out in the dark to grab your ankle causes you to jolt in shock and scream as he drags you out from under the bed. “Wait, wait Gio, hang on-”
The sound of tearing fabric causes both of you to go still. You look down to see the back of his blazer and shirt were torn, having gotten caught on something on the way out. Your eyes quickly dart back over to Gio, swallowing when you see how angry he is. “It was an accident?” You say, hoping it’d be enough that he’d let you go and focus on his poor suit instead.
With a yelp, he has you over his shoulder, arms holding you down as he marches back down to the smoking-room, where it all began. No matter how you squirm, how much you plea, how hard you kick at his chest, his grip on you stays firm as he continues his march downstairs.
He, less than gracefully, throws you to the floor. In an act of adrenaline fuels desperation, your hand swings out with his cane in hand, hoping to get a good strike to his legs in order for you to make your escape. He calmly grabs at your wrist, yanking the cane from your hand before letting go and staring down at you, looming over you, finally giving a one-word command. “Strip.”
You have pushed and pushed and pushed at this point. The idea of disobeying more was not one you think you should follow through on. You slowly stand and start to disrobe, throwing item of clothing after item of clothing on the ground, wincing when you see how large of a rip Gio dragging you out of the bed had caused. When you stand there, just in your bra and panties, eyes to the ground as you sway awkwardly, Gio looks up from what he’s doing, tutting softly, disapprovingly. “All of it.” He prompts.
You swallow before undoing your bra and throwing it on top of the pile of clothing you have managed to create before carefully, slowly, peeling down your panties, leaving you completely bare. He hums, happy with what he sees as he walks in a slow circle around you, taking in every inch of skin he can see. You swallow when he stops in front of you, trying your best to remain quiet as his hand comes over to brush against your neck. You can feel the heavy leather of the collar resting in his hand as it slides against your skin and is locked shut.
“Kneel.” Comes his next command. You feel your knees hit the ground before you can even register what your body is doing. “Face against the ground.” You whimper but do as instructed, your ass staying up in the air as you do so. A faint click in front of you is your only warning before you feel his hand dart towards your collar, another click confirming your fate as you try to lift your head up only to be held back down. A small chain keeping your head close to the floor. You readjust, knees spreading slightly as you struggle to regain your balance.
You can hear him actively planning on what to do next as he walks around you, admiring you like he would one of his paintings, kneeling for him, spreading for him, presenting for him. “That suit is ruined, Y/N.” He starts, voice even and careful. “Do you know how much it will cost me to replace it?”
“I’m sure you can find the money to afford it.” You mutter out. A swish can be heard throughout the room before a loud crack echoes down the hall. You yelp as the sting left by his cane starts to heat up.
He tuts disapprovingly. “Have we already forgotten what to do during punishment?”
You swallow back another witty remark. “No.” There is a beat and you can almost feel him reaching to give you another whack with the cane. “Sir.” You finally tag on. “One, thank you Sir, may I have another Sir?” You grit out. This was unfair, it was an accident, why were you being punished for this?
He hums, accepting your begrudging count. “Now, piccolo coniglio, let’s count your transgressions.” He starts. “One, wearing my suit without permission, two, disobeying me when I told you to remove it, three, running away after being told to come to me, four, ruining my suit when you hid from me and five, your never-ending bratty, bratty behaviour.” He counts off. “One strike per misdeed? I believe that's fair.” You don’t even dare challenge him on that, once his mind is made up, there is no going back. “Y/N.” He warns.
“Yes Sir. That’s fair.” You mutter, mentally preparing for the rest of your punishment.
He hums approvingly. “Good.” Is all he says as he finally finds his stance behind you. “Four more to go, piccola, count them.” He reminds.
A whistle through the air is your only warning before a loud ‘crack’ fills the room. You grunt as you move forward slightly to try and escape the source of the sting and the heat currently radiating from your backside. A clearing of the throat prompts you. “Two, thank you Sir, may I have another Sir?”
There is a beat before the familiar sound of his cane rushing through the air can be heard and you try to relax in time for the feeling of wood hitting skin, the rush of blood and the painful throbbing sting that follows. You don’t miss it this time. “Three, thank you Sir, may I have another Sir?”
The following two strikes are just as hard as the others, and you are certain you are going to have welts that will make it difficult to sit down for a few days. Each strike is followed by your count, your final one you leave out the last part of your scripted response, as per Gio’s liking. There is a semi tense silence that follows as the tears in your eyes that had started to well after the fourth strike threaten to spill over. It hurt so bad but oh so, so good.
The feeling of cool leather gently palming against the sorest part of your ass breaks you from your thoughts with a gasp, it helping settle the pain currently burning under your skin. “You did so well, piccola.” He purrs, hand slowly drifting down, moving to cup at your dripping wet heat. “I suppose a reward is in order, yes?”
Before you even have a chance to respond, you feel a leather-clad finger slowly work its way inside of you, followed by a second as he stretches you out slightly. He begins to pump his fingers inside of you, pressing up against all those sensitive spots that only Gio seemed to know how to find. His rumbling chuckle vibrates down your back from his chest when you whine as he begins to narrowly miss that one spot he had been teasing, his lips pressing against your neck as he slowly pulls out, his fingers moving to rest against your mouth.
“Clean them.” Your mouth drops at his order, sliding over the smooth material of his gloves as you suck your slick clean off of them, a mix of leather and something undeniably you dancing on your tongue as you map each groove, each divet, along the stitching and along the seams. You can feel your eyes roll back into the back of your head as you work on autopilot, going over the material covering his hand again and again until all traces of you disappears and the flavour of expensive leather grows stronger and stronger until it’s all you can taste. You are so lost in continuing to run your tongue between his fingers that you don’t feel the blunt probing of his cock against your entrance until the stretch of him filling you once more makes you realise what he’s doing. With a broken moan around his fingers, you push back until he bottoms out inside of you, filling you completely as Gio presses his body against yours with a grunt.
You wait for him to move, but the seconds keep ticking by and he’s taking. Too. Long. You press back, the slightly muffled ‘move’ leaving your lips, causing him to chuckle again, teeth nipping at your skin. “Hush now, coniglietto. Let me take care of you. You were doing so well for me, piccola, don’t ruin that now.” He warns before he gently rolls his hips, making sure you feel the drag of every inch of his length as he slowly starts to fuck you against the carpet, your small moans only growing into a slow crescendo as he picks up his speed, his hand slipping from your mouth as his glove disappears in time for his fingers to press into your hips as he pulls you back against him, nails digging in until small scratches start to appear beneath them, small praises falling from his lips, whispered gently in your ear.
You can feel a heated coil in your belly start to tighten just as his hand starts to drift down, fingers moving to play expertly with your clit. Your moans turn into grunts, your grunts turn to cries as he brings you closer and closer to that edge. You tighten around him, feeling the coil in your belly burst as warmth shudders through you, clenching around his cock as you come with a loud cry. You can barely hear his praises, his hips beginning to fall out of rhythm as he approaches his release. You feel his lips press a gentle kiss just below your collar as he spills inside of you, causing you to whimper as your body finally gives out and you collapse onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion takes over your body.
When you come to, you’re back in Gio’s bed, feeling clean and warm as you lay in his arms under silk sheet, his hands tracing at your skin lightly as he lets you wake up fully. “Good morning, piccola.” He greets, amusement in his voice.
“Mornin’.” Is all you get out, voice thick with sleep as you snuggle up closer towards him, resting your chin on his chest.
“What did we learn?”
“That expensive material tears easy and that it really shows that money doesn’t equal quality?” A low growl rumbles from his chest as you move to press a kiss against his skin. “I just wanted to see how it felt to wear something like that, that’s all. And, ya know. I think I looked pretty damn good in that suit.”
“Indeed it did. Worth every cent.” He sounds almost proud.
“I’m sorry that I ruined it though, I didn’t mean to-”
“Get caught?”
“......well yes but I also didn’t mean to ruin it.”
He hums. “I could buy a hundred more if I wished, tesoro. There is no need to fret about it now. What’s done is done.”
“How much was it anyway?” You pale when he tells you the price, feeling rather than seeing his smirk, feeling his lips against the top of your head as he tells you not to worry about it. “I feel like I need to make it up to you though.” You confess, a small sound of surprise leaving your lips when he pulls you up so you’re sitting in his lap as he lays flat against the bed, a playful smile on his lips that few got to see, eyes glinting with promises of future plans you are yet to be informed of.
“I think we can think of something.”
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lgbt-signal-boost · 3 years
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Hey there yall! I just wanted to make a quick post here in case this info will help anyone:
I recently started donating plasma in August because I was unemployed and desperate for funds. They paid really well for the first 5 donations at the center near me, and paid decently for following donations so long as there was consistency with visits. It wont be the same pay or proceedure for every CSL but I imagine a lot of them have some sort of bonus starting payment.
More recently I was actually hired on at the plasma donation place near me and I really love the work environment!
For those of you in need of money, I know its messed up that you have to literally sell blood/plasma to make some income, but I HIGHLY recommend it if you are healthy enough to.
And if youre looking for a job and have a CSL Plasma center nearby, I HIGHLY recommend looking into employment there. They train ON-SITE, no college or medical training necessary (Except for MSA/Nurse position). All you do need is proof of a highschool diploma or GED. Its an AMAZING opportunity to get into a medical setting for a career path. And if you have retail/customer service experience they really love that and you can probably negotiate a higher starting pay because you're dealing with people all day.
I have a referal code that I can give to people whove never donated with CSL Plasma before that will get you $5 extra on top of your first donation payout (and it will help me a lot with a $25 referal payment 😩) just hmu for it!
As for anyone who may be interested but wants more info on what goes on and what the job entails, please feel free to hmu on IM! Id be more than happy to explain how things operate!
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warmstained · 4 years
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i had a wide angled smile and a mouth full of gold      /     𝑀𝐼𝐿𝒪 𝐻𝒜𝒩𝒮𝒪𝒩 
hey , is that MILO HANSON ? y'know , the TWENTY-SEVEN year old from SAN FRANCISCO , CALIFORNIA ? from what i know they’re usually DRIVEN & SELF-EFFACING , but also SELFISH & INSECURE . the dim light in an quiet kitchen , the condensation on iced coffee that’s been diluted by melting ice , and glasses sliding down the bridge of your nose really reminds me of them but i guess that makes sense since they’re a LEO . they’ve been visiting canyon for TWENTY years .
hey everyone , i’m kat and i’m ready to vibe fsdjsjd  :’) milo hanson is a whole mess and please feel free to poke around and send me a message for whatever connection or plot you may be interested in because there’s a 31891921% chance that i’m interested in the same thing , we’re just here for a good time bro ! 
hurts  until  it  doesn't      ↝  
milo hanson enjoyed a charmed life , for the most part . milo was the eldest son of victoria and jackson hanson , known nationally as the ( intimidating , overwhelming ) powerhouses of investment banking . 
their work was lucrative and the wealth that pumped through their bank account was demonstrated through the first class plane rides and five star hotels , through the several ponies that meandered through their yard during the hanson children’s birthday parties , through the summers that they spent lounging in their own impressive home in the canyons ... milo appreciated the luxury that defined so much of his life , but he was always acutely aware of the expectations that came with those luxuries .
victoria and jackson tasked their children with not only upholding the family name , but devoting themselves to the family business . they were a family with money , but the money was new , and they needed to cement themselves in the world of the rich and famous in any capacity they could . milo was signed up for as many sports teams , academic decathlons , and tutoring sessions as his schedule could handle . 
who could really be that surprised when he started lashing out and desperately tried to have his parents see him beyond an opportunity to better their image ?  he tried to enjoy as many wild parties as he could , tried to throw as many of those wild parties as he could , did his best to sneak out of his bedroom window and spend the night hanging out with friends that his parents absolutely did not approve of . it rarely turned out how he hoped , and those wild nights always culminated in his mom throwing water on him and dragging him out for swimming practice at seven in the morning . 
for all the work he put into building a persona that made it look like he didn’t care , that he wasn’t bothered by the critiques that were constantly piled on him , he always had a soft spot for his grandparents . they had once owned a restaurant that eventually went bankrupt , but they still loved the heat of the kitchen , and whenever he was in miami , he spent as much time as he could away from the gilded gates of the canyon and in their modest apartment , listening intently as his grandmother conspiratorially whispered secret family recipes in his ear . 
for all his teenage rebellion , milo went along with his parents’ plans for him , but eventually , the spontaneous night outs and the tense mornings that came after weren’t enough to keep him from feeling suffocated . he graduated business school , and was just about to reluctantly fill his wardrobe with crisp and uncomfortable suits , when news broke out that his grandfather had passed away . he skipped his first day at the company to interview as a dishwasher for a local hole in the wall and register for culinary school , intent on getting the restaurant that his grandfather had always wanted . 
his parents seethed , and it wasn’t long before his own bank account ran dry without their support for his decision . he avoided his parents’ calls as he trudged through culinary school and navigated the industry , committed to his decision and choosing not to spend too much time lingering on the guilt that gnawed at his stomach . 
but he couldn’t avoid them forever , nor did he want to . contrary to popular belief , he doesn’t hate his parents . he knows about the hushed conversations that are shared in the bustling galas and whispers made between the tinkling champagne at a dinner party , where people accuse him of being the ungrateful son that threw away a golden opportunity to become a titan in a lucrative industry . instead , he resents the glittery backdrop that he has always needed to see his parents in . if he resented his parents , he would always coolly reply , he wouldn’t have caved into their request to settle down in the canyon estates and would have just holed himself up downtown . 
when he was twenty four , he opened his own small restaurant in the hot and bustling center of downtown miami , right on the street where his grandparents’ own place used to be — the dining room was so narrow that he couldn’t put backs on the chairs and the air conditioning liked to sputter loudly before shutting down , but it was his , and he didn’t care whether his mother thought that he needed to better coordinate the color scheme . 
he’s been spending the past few years throwing himself into his little restaurant . he’s since expanded the space and works through most evenings to try and secure the michelin star that his grandparents had always talked so dreamily about . 
weight  of  my  own  ego     ↝     
he’s a perfectionist . as much as he clashed with the expectations his parents had , he had absorbed all of their messages on never daring to move forward without ensuring that his next step would turn out exactly as he hoped . when his restaurant first opened , he dangerously edged the line between working hard and refusing to sleep , and spent more nights than he’d ever admit having fallen asleep on the cool steel of the kitchen counter . 
he’s desperate for attention . good attention , attention that wasn’t reluctantly given as people relented that at least he’s doing something . as much as he’s tried to distance himself from the world of the rich , he can’t deny that it’s the world that he is most intimately familiar with , and he can only ever pretend that their harsh critiques shake him , even a little bit . 
he loves his grandmother . the years after his grandfather’s death was a difficult one , and more than anyone , his grandmother made it possible for him to make it out of his couch and put on a proper pair of jeans . she was the only member of his family that had seen him for who he was , who was there throughout the planning and execution of his restaurant , who goes to the restaurant ( in her own reserved booth , obviously ) to try the latest dishes and gush over the decor . he spends sunday mornings having brunch with her . 
he is an excellent babysitter . he’s always been one of the older kids in the neighborhood , and to try and get him to better understand the value of money , his parents cut him off for a summer and forced him to get to work. he had dragged his feet about it for a bit , but then later discovered that he actually really enjoyed spending time with kids and would put together games and activities that they could do together . he has a small recipe box for homemade baby food .
he’s less confident than he looks . maybe it’s the fact that his father always has a prepared list of the things that he could get right , or maybe it’s the fact that eventually unkind gossip could get under anyone’s skin , but he’s not nearly as assured and confident as he lets on . he’s deeply afraid of proving everyone’s worst fears about him right , and as a result , finds himself more incapable of building genuine friendships and connections that last beyond a few drinks at the bar .
and that’s all for me folks ! i’m so excited to start chattin and plotting with everyone omg would love a good influence connection , a slow burn kind of deal , a bad influence thing , a partner in crime , big brother situation because he’s lowkey ancient ... whatever u would like to do , please feel free to send a message on tumblr or hmu on discord @ katastic#6937 #MWAH <3
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talsursok · 4 years
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TASK 001: INTRODUCTIONS
hello, everyone! i’m tea and i’m really excited to be part of this rp. i’d love to plot with you all or feel free to hmu and we can chat about whatever. (bonus points if you're into video games, animal crossing or stuck at home due to a pandemic :/ ).  i apologize for any spelling / other annoying errors. i’m trying to balance writing this, eating and cleaning. 
CHARACTER INFO
Full Name: Talia Noelle Sursok
Nickname(s): Tal,
Age: Thirty-Three
Birthdate: August 18th, 1987
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Occupation: Firefighter
Neighborhood: Coral Reef
Bio:
tw: death
in 1987, lucia sursok welcomed her one and only child into the world. born to a single mom, talia was never short of adoration. predominately raised by her mother with the help of her aunts and grandmother, talia grew up with a healthy sense of female empowerment, but she didn’t want to be viewed as a damsel in distress. like a bird set free, she explored the world around her and found a passion in martial arts. while she fought hard for good grades in school , she made up in her passion and excellence in fighting others. whether she envisioned her c math grade when she hit the bag, or the absent father she never knew, nothing felt better than releasing whatever emotion she was harboring.
at fifteen, talia was whisked away from her home in new zealand to move to california where her mom just had to marry some guy she met months earlier. talia approached him with skepticism; she never grew up with a male figure in her life and wasn’t sure what to think of him. she’d mutter hellos his way and make sure any conversation he would try to keep was cut short. little by little he was growing on her, until one day talia realized that the anger she held for her missing father was no longer there; she had found a father in a man who loved and accepted her and her mother. he was encouraging, always cheering her and continually motivating her.
so! with her watered down accent, talia found a desire to help others however she wasn’t quite sure in what form. she spent two years getting her associates at a local community college before transferring to a university where she obtained her bachelors in psychology.  school was spent being tutored by numerous students, late nights of flash card studying and lots of (hidden) years). finally, on the day of graduation with her fresh, college degree in her hands, talia looked into the crowd and locked eyes on her beaming mom and dad.
years went by and everything in between receiving her college degree and the rest of her twenties seemed like a blur. a bad breakup. late nights with friends. crying in the shower after a rough night at work. writing a list of pros and cons on getting a dog. finally getting said dog ( a siberian husky, her dream pet). numerous amounts of coffee consumed. and plenty of family time.
at twenty-six, talia found herself growing tiresome of her job as a social worker. after a long discussion with her parents, friends, coworkers and even her favorite baristas, talia felt a calling to become a firefighter. first there was volunteering, then becoming an EMT, passing a written exam and then graduating from the firefighter academy. it was challenging, exhausting, but also thrilling and a constant adrenaline rush. the passion talia felt when becoming a firefighter was indescribable. she had finally met her biggest and best challenge.
life was truly blissful until a year ago, when talia felt a pain that she wasn’t sure she was capable of feeling. she had lost her father. actually, she’s pretty sure she still hasn’t processed it and just the thought of it makes her a wreck (but never in front of anyone). talia was confused, angry and overwhelmed by the pain. she sort of shut herself off to everyone who tried to get close to her. the pain of losing a loved one again was something she desperately wanted to avoid.
personality
obstinate. you can tell her not to do something 100 x, but if she sets her mind to it she will do it. a lot of this came in the form of being picked on when she was little by the older boys in her martial arts class. she wanted to fight better than them and pleaded with her coach to train her longer that most.
genuine. what you see is what you get with talia. it doesn’t matter who she’s around, she stays authentic to herself and what she believes. she finds it too exhausting and useless to put on a front around certain people.
protective. at the core of it all, talia just wants to help people. seeing others in danger, suffering physically or mentally is hard for her to handle. so she does her absolute best to comfort everyone but herself.
cynical. life events have made talia feel distrusting of others. between being involved in social work and now her current occupation, talia is skeptical of the motivations of others. this originated when she was a a dumb, young teen in love with the bad boy who cheated on her multiple times. this incident left her embarrassed and guarded.
assertive. she trusts herself and her abilities and does not like when people question what she can do (mentally or physically). she’s just pretty feisty. talia is honestly a little too confident in her abilities and can come off as a bit forceful. just take this with a grain of salt and tell her to chill ~ she won’t, but feel free to tell her anyways.
impulsive. talia has always been impulsive; whether it’s proving that at age five, she in fact can climb a tree and does so but falls off leaving her with a scar, or going into any situation without thinking it through. being quick to act has its perks in the fire department, or so she thinks.
likes: coffee, dancing, warm weather, the first rainfall after its long absence, holidays, working out, strawberry ice cream, 70s music, movie theaters, competitive events, cleaning, top shelf tequila, fresh flowers in the house, lots of cozy blankets, minimal jewelry, pineapple ON pizza.
dislikes: cooking, cold weather, sleeping in too late, cats, socks, carbonated drinks, being fussed over, red meat, licorice, traffic, indecisiveness, watching the news, being alone, vulnerability, iphone updates, the smell of cigarettes, wine, not recycling, boredom.
her connections
anything and everything :) she’s been living her for eighteen years, so i’m open to anything that can fit during this time! give me all the drama.
(photo edit cred.)
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nashwillms · 4 years
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Have you seen ERIC ‘NASH’ WILLIAMS ? This THIRTY-EIGHT year old is a ROADIE / BREWERY OWNER who resides in QUEENS. HE has/have been living in NYC for THREE YEARS, and is known to be HELPFUL and RELAXED, but can also be IRRESPONSIBLE and UNRELIABLE, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with LIVE MUSIC and WELL-TUNED ACOUSTIC GUITARS.
y’all there’s rly no intro necessary, this is all you need to know about nash: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2SzEYKbxSg now that tHAT is out of the way, here’s yet another idiot man! feel free to hmu for plots or like this and i will hYu (is that a thing?) 
tw: suicide, violence mention, underage drug use
about —
full name: eric williams age: 38 birthday: december 14th, 1981 ( sagittarius ) sexual orientation: heterosexual gender: cis male pronouns: he/his
bio — tw: suicide, violence mention, underage drug use
the eighties were a wild time. fifteen-year-old evelyn williams had ran away from her home in kentucky to pursue her dream to be a country singer, landing her in nashville, tennessee. but instead, she ended up tangled with some shady people in the industry, people who got her intro drugs — and eventually she ended up pregnant.
at age sixteen, evelyn delivered a boy, in a home for unwed mothers, about an hour away from nashville. her original plan had always been to simply leave the child there, because her christian upbringing would not emotionally allow her to have an abortion. but she changed her mind at the last second; she took her son with her, and named him eric. no specific reason, it was just the first name that she thought of.
despite the hurdles, she still attempted to pursue her dreams. at a very young age, eric was hanging out backstage at different small venues, watching his mother perform. so, it could be said he grew up around music.
( suicide tw!! ) when he thinks of his mother, he tries to remember the smiling singing girl in cowboy boots and button up shirts — and not the lifeless corpse hanging from the ceiling he walked into, aged six. why she’d taken her own life, the boy never understood. and while he never felt anything negative towards his mother, he was angry she had decided to leave him alone. after having to call 9-1-1 (a thing he will now refuse to do), some people came and took him away.
eric proceeded to grow up in the foster system. from home to home to home to home, it was like nobody wanted to keep him. no matter how good he was, how smart he was; families would always end up sending him back. 
when he was sixteen, though, an argument with his then foster family ended up in violence. his foster father have eric a black eye, and in a moment of complete desperation, he grabbed what he could in his book bag and ran away, slowly making his way back to the city. 
one night, he decided to go to the venue his mother would perform at, sneaking backstage. of course, he got caught almost immediately — but the the performer’s crew leader told security he was with them, so the boy was let go... and he had a job. of course he was asked what his name was, and his answer was nash. eric williams was on the run, so he couldn’t give that name! and surprisingly, it stuck. when he talks about how he met john and how he got to work for him, a smile always appears. the story is so ridiculous.
he started working for this man’s crew, mostly as a roadie: carrying, loading / unloading, setting up and breaking down equipment for different performers, all around the country. being unsupervised, nash got himself into a pattern of irresponsibility: drugs and girls, girls and drugs. it is very probably he has scattered a large amount of children across the country in the last 20 years, yet he has not even entertained the thought. 
fast forward to sixteen years ago: nash scored another gig working with violet banks’ crew. he had heard of the musician before, and the young man was thoroughly impressed. she was incredibly talented and beautiful — not to mention successful, and his age. that was what impressed him the most, how much she had accomplished when they were so close in age. so, one could say he had a crush. not very rare in nash, but alas.
how he managed to get her to even give him the time of day is still a mystery. he did consider himself a charming person, so it probably had something to do with this trait of his. knowing they didn’t have a lot of time, as the end of the tour approached, the pair got involved in a very fast but very passionate romance. to this day, nash still remembers this specific love fondly. it was probably the most interesting thing that had happened to him, too.
however, after violet’s tour was over, he never heard from her again. mostly because he never even reached out. when he heard she had had a baby, it made him want to reach out even less. of course, the thought that it could be his child didn’t even cross his mind. ( so, he has no idea jamie is his, and has NO idea what has happened to him or to violet. mans gonna have a bad, bad time! but a well deserved one! )
a few years later, he found a puppy tied to a pole while staying in a crappy motel in atlanta. he figured the owner would get back to the pet soon, but when he walked by the same pole and saw the pup still there, nash decided to take it with him. 
he’s a german shepherd named bullet, and he’s 11 now. probably the closest thing nash has had to an actual responsibility.
how the man ended in new york was also a funny story, or so he’ll say. although it really wasn’t funny, it was mostly sad. while on a job in new york, bullet got ran over by a yellow cab. he survived, but the vet advised to let him rest at home for the foreseeable future. which was of course a problem, considering nash didn’t really have a home. he mostly lived in cheap motels or on friends’ couches. he drove an old truck, and now he had to find himself a place to live in the most expensive city in the world.
all of his savings went to this venture. he’s not poor, but not well off either. he’s somewhere in the middle, because he had been saving his money to buy that venue in nashville — of course that doesn’t seem possible anymore.
although he’s legally been living in queens for three years, he has been in and out of town for the most part, really making it more of a consecutive year, maybe a year and a half. especially now that bullet is old, and after the accident, he’s become prone to more ailments. it wasn’t bad until recently, which was why nash would still come and go, leaving him with a dogsitter, but now that he’s become more frail, nash is trying to be consistent and be with his friend.
some connections: ANYTHING / EVERYTHING ( always down for anything! )
more specific ones ( at least the ones i can think of ) - dogsitter: someone who’s close to nash, very trustworthy. he wouldn’t leave bullet with anyone when he leaves! - friends: he def needs those! he’s a very flexible character too, as in he’s been pretty much everywhere in the states, so there can always be a plot there when/ if your character isn’t from new york! - ex lovers: he def needs all of these, basically the same terms from ‘friends’ apply here: he’s been everywhere, and he’s one irresponsible idiot. he’s definitely never called anyone back. - music people: nash loves music! he still works backstage at a bunch of venues in the city (nothing gigantic though), but he def loves anyone who knows anything about music. he plays the guitar, if that adds any depth!
( this is my second attempt at trying to post this intro... tumblr ate my first draft and i was so very sad... so forgive me if this is terrible. second attempts usually don’t turn out as great but ! i tried my best. my two remaining brain cells and i thank you for reading this AT ALL. ) 
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lottabank · 4 years
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name: evelyn charlotte banks nicknames: charlotte , lottie , lott , char , charlie , charmander , etc. but she no longer goes by evelyn in this lifetime age: twenty three physically , sixty seven biologically sexuality: panromantic / sexual pronouns: she / her , cisfemale  species: vampire sign: gemini spotify: here pinterest: here
hello moon beams and star shines , this is late but i’ve just been busy with work ! i’ve got the time to try and finish stuff now , so i’m gonna work on trying to do my daughter’s intro. if you’d like to plot feel free to hmu via tumblr im or ask for my discord bc i’ll gladly give it. i also play rune ( shadow graced human ) so yeah it’s snottie back at it again , anything you want to know about me or lottie alike hmu or just read below to find out more about my sweet serial killer vamp princess
── the high council is prepared to hear the story of EVELYN CHARLOTTE ‘ LOTTIE ‘ BANKS , a VAMPIRE while noted as a WANDERER. we might of mistaken them as MADELAINE PETSCH. appearances may be deceiving, with immortality being so common among supernaturals. this being has walked the earth for NINETY years, and their face reflects an age of TWENTY THREE they’re a CITIZEN of estonia and will be residing in TALLIN.
during their stay of the harvest they shall work by day as a STRIPPER to blend in with the mortal crowd. however, at night you might find them as AN ESCORT / ASSASSIN. they’re UNHAPPY about the harvest, however, they plan to please the high council.
PERSONALITY.
vampire beauty queen , primadonna , self-proclaimed princess. this darling girl has always loved attention , luxury , all things beautiful and transitioning to the darkness only heightened that love. so much so that she will do just about anything to satisfy her own wants or needs. lottie is ruthless , verging on sociopathic. she is delicate , but she is dangerous. she is by no means unfeeling though , nor incapable of love. she can be sweet , she can be soft , she can be pink cheeks and bright smiles just as she can be bloody lips and deranged laughter. she is genuinely kind , loving and gentle unless your death would make her happier than your being alive.  
ruling planet: mercury — the planet of communication body parts: shoulders , arms , hands element: air good day: fascinating , original , resourceful , charming , wise , adventurous bad day: restless , distracted , two-faced , judgmental , depressed , overwhelmed favorite things: cell phones , fast cars , trendy clothes , obscure music , guitars , books , clubbing least favorite things: small-minded people , dress codes , authority figures , silence , routines secret wish: to have all the answers how to spot her: mischievous twinkle in her eyes,  humming , talking with her hands where you’ll find her: taking pictures , behind the bar , in a chat room , playing devil’s advocate keywords: communication , collaboration , synergy , cleverness , wittiness , inventiveness ,  ingenuity
charlotte’s energy circulates in a quick and frenetic way , witty wordplay and dynamic dialogue are her forte. she is great for brainstorming and socializing , but craves “ twin flame ” and kindred spirit energy and is always up for an intellectual meeting of the minds. 
under the influence she can find herself with the gift of gab , talking and conversing with others for hours hopping from pop culture trends to deep political topics. beware of when she becomes a “ gossip girl , ” as she can crank up the rumor mill. as renowned dr. bernie siegel says , “ we have the ability to cure with either ‘ words ’ or kill with ‘ swords. ' ” 
the essence of charlie’s energy is fascinating , original , resourceful , charming , wise , and adventurous. some negative manifestations can devolve into more restless , distracted , two-faced , judgmental , depressed , and overwhelmed energy. 
lottie has a tendency to ride the roller coaster of life , spiraling skywards one minute and plunging into lows the next. if you can keep up with her vibes though , you’ll have one hell of a thrill !
charlotte exhibits great creative synergy , instantly connecting people to each other. always inclined to spend time with friends and focused on changing the world one idea at a time.
a little bit older and wiser , more flexible and comfortable with change than others. she can “ chameleon ” herself to fit into a variety of situations. 
can come across as clever and quick-witted , eager to dish out the juiciest pieces of news and happenings to their friends via text message and social media. in case that’s not enough , she’ll probably send you a snapchat story for good measure.
lottie loves fast cars , trendy clothes and any wacky gadgets or games they can tinker around with. part of the fun ( and curse ) of this fiery red head is that you’re never quite sure which personality you’re going to experience. will it be the vivacious , pun-dishing jokester or the snarky , mean-spirited critic ? if you’re willing to see fifty shades of crazy , she’ll color your life in thrilling ways !
BACKGROUND.
evelyn charlotte banks was born june fourth , 1930 and was given the dark gift in the early fifties ( so you’ll definitely notice some call backs to that time period ). she has grown and developed and adapted throughout time better than most , but you can take the sock hop away from the girl but not out of her. she remembers her life before , but doesn’t dwell on nor even really miss it.
she grew up in your rather classic straight lace upper middle class suburban family and community with her perfect nuclear family. the town they lived in was small , close knit , and everyone knew everyone but especially who evelyn’s family was. 
she was in a lot of pageants growing up and was even platinum blonde for most of her human life , because she was so afraid her red hair would keep her from being successful.
when she was eighteen years old with big shiny dreams of silver screens , luxury , and eyes all on her was all she could think of. she left her family and their small generational hometown in georgia for bigger , better things in none other than hollywood. 
she was on her way ,  so desperate to be in the movies and be like marilyn monroe but shortly after is when she became ensnared by darkness and evil.  she wasn’t very successful at all in the beginning so , she started wearing tighter , shinier outfits when she was on stage when suddenly she started getting actual recognition. 
she wasn’t acting like she had intended , but it turned out her voice was good enough to land her plenty of lounge singing gigs in multiple joints. it was one particularly dark , seedy , dangerous joint that only opened once the sun set completely and closed upon the sun rise that she finally started to get propositioned to do so-called ‘ film gigs. it was also in this place where she met him for the first time. 
( tw: cult ment. ) her maker is very old and before she ever knew he was anything more than a handsome older gentleman she was fully under his control. he was something of a cult leader who for the most part glamoured his ‘ followers ‘ , but that was never necessary with charlotte. she was thoroughly and completely in love with her maker , she even ‘ married ‘ him and lived on his compound.
( tw: rape ment. , assault ment. ) it wouldn’t be for a few more years that he would finally turn her ,and only after he found her brutally beaten and raped for nothing more than a snuff film. her maker found her on the verge of death and wasted no time in saving her life by bestowing his dark gift upon her. 
( tw: murder ment. ) to say that lottie felt indebted to and fell in love with her maker to the point of obsession was an understatement , she would do anything and everything he asked of her including murder not in the name of feeding.
( tw: death ment. ) the films she was in were kept in the dark underbelly of the industry and no one was none the wiser , not to mention everyone thought she was dead after her last film.
so , she eventually did make her debut in film and was even on the silver screen finally. this only lasted for as long as she could get away with not aging before eventually she disappeared off the radar with her maker. the two traveled far and wide for a long time , but eventually went their separate ways even though lottie wanted nothing of the sort her maker commanded she live her own life without him now.
( tw: murder ment. ) she has since become something of a murderer ?? she prefers to call herself an assassin but it’s rare anyone actually pays her to murder anyone. you could even call her  a serial killer if you take into account that her victims are almost always men of the unsavory variety , but she has two sides to her personality and it’s not like she’s full maniac.
ETC.
if you know what yandere means she fits that description very well , and if you don’t know what it means well:  a common term in otaku fandom , a yandere is a person ( usually female ) romantically obsessed with someone to the point of using violent means to get them in their arms. often can be seen featured with a sharp weapon and a psychotic grin.
pretty much she comes off as this sweet , lovely , beautiful woman with lots of talent but in reality she can switch that off in an instant and literally kill you without any hesitation if it benefits her or someone she loves.
anyway she has been in estonia for only a bit now , but how long is flexible. she probably likes the scenery and the supernatural presence , but she’s honestly not a country mouse at all. 
also not that she needs money , but there is very little she loves more than attention and money. she works at a club as live entertainment on occasion , singing or stripping or bartending or occasionally doing , mostly for the attention but also if she’s in need of money.
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evesbeve · 5 years
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Ok I have a prompt. When Klaus leaves the academy instead of throwing himself further into drugs he gets clean and learns how to use his powers with the help of Ben
Thank you for this blessed request, Anon. This turned out way longer than intended, but it’s here-
I am still accepting TUA requests/suggestions, so feel free to hmu!
Summary: Klaus knows he should come to terms with his powers. He knows he should stay clean. He knows, and yet he cowers. It's so dark tonight.
(Read this on AO3 and FFN)
____
Klaus had been clean for a little bit more than a week and it was the most painful thing he ever had to do.
He couldn't believe Ben had actually convinced him to throw away all of his drugs. It wasn't as if he had forced him — his brother couldn't touch him nor his drugs.
But Klaus did it, and he regretted with all his might.
The alleys in which he usually slept were packed with all sorts of ghosts — lost and detached ones, desperate souls that tried to reach out to him, and others that screamed his name over and over, sending him right back to the mausoleum.
He couldn't even tell the living and the dead apart anymore. The streets were so crowded he didn't even care to ask or come to the conclusion himself. He just wanted to be alone.
He found himself fidgeting more than usual, or reaching out for his back pocket for a joint, or his bag of pills, but there was nothing.
Klaus wanted to smoke something — anything — to the point it hurt.
But he held back. For Ben.
The two of them had been wandering around the city together ever since day one — day one being almost five years ago — back when they knew nothing about the outside world. There had been arguments and fights, breakdowns and opening up in ways neither of them ever asked for, but they had stayed together.
Because at the end of the day, Ben was more helpful than annoying. He'd watch out for him, remind him to eat and shower and sometimes even take part in Klaus' own mischieves.
Ben didn't watch Klaus' life go by, he became part of it.
Helpful wasn't the only thing he was; Ben was caring and loving and a huge pain in the ass, but Klaus loved him. He wanted the best for Klaus, and now Klaus wanted the best for him.
So he had to stay sober, no matter how much it hurt.
They'd ended up in an empty parking lot near an abandoned gas station. It was the first time they'd been that far out of the city, but the further away they went, the fewer ghosts they came across.
Not that Klaus could make anything out in the dark. Their own source of light was a flickering street lamp, the only one out of the batch that hadn't been shattered.
"Are you ready?"
Klaus drifted his gaze away from the flickering light and back to the shadows where Ben was standing.
His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his face was buried inside his hoodie, as if he was cold. He wasn't. None of the ghosts were.
Sometimes it was hard to remember than the Ben standing in front of him was the same Ben he grew up with.
"Here goes nothing," Klaus mumbled as he tried to concentrate on his powers.
The last time Klaus had manifested someone was when he was thirteen; some person good old Reginald Hargreeves instructed him to call, but even then, Klaus couldn't keep him materialised for more than a few minutes.
He got locked in the mausoleum that night.
It was as if no matter what he did — whether it was manifesting someone or failing at doing so — he ended up there. Nothing could please Dad, nothing Klaus could do anyway, so what was the point?
He was probably inside his office in the academy, looking over his notes, telling Pogo of how disappointed he was in him.
He didn't care about pleasing Dad, but the thought of disappointing him again pierced through his body like a spear.
You've wasted all your potential and given yourself up to poison. How saddening.
Klaus' hands shook in front of him, and it wasn't because of his powers. He felt the energy slip right out of his hands, and he had no way to grasp it again.
You're my greatest disappointment, Number Four.
Everything was shaking. Everything was falling apart. Klaus was falling apart, and he couldn't feel the ground underneath his feet anymore.
Get up.
He curled up on the ground, hugging his body. Just when exactly had the cold pavement become so comforting?
Listen to me.
It was all for nothing. He'd never be able to manifest anyone. Not one of the names in Dad's endless lists, not Five, and certainly not Ben.
I said, get up.
He could really go for a drink. Or two.
Come on, get up!
Yeah. That sounded about right.
Klaus, get up!
"I can't!" Klaus yelled at the sky or to Ben or to whoever that voice belonged to, he couldn't tell anymore. What even was there to tell anymore.
"Klaus, come on, you-"
"Stop that!" Klaus yelled again, one hand on the ground to keep him balanced, and another hovering in front of him, hiding whatever was above him. "Stop asking me to try, stop lying to my face about myself, stop saying my name!"
There was a choked sob, and then another, until Klaus couldn't hold any of them back anymore. He must have looked so pathetic, shielding himself away from the one person who was trying to help him, screaming until there was nothing else to scream about.
"I'm not asking you to try," Ben said, taking his hands off his pockets and slowly approaching Klaus. "You're already trying. I'm here just like I've always been."
"You're not really," Klaus managed to say, sniffling, still shakily holding his hand in front of his face. Shielding himself.
Ben was right there listening to him cry, watching him fall apart, talking to him. Klaus could see him, and he could see Klaus.
But he wasn't really there.
Being with another person had never felt so lonely.
"I do know that you're the one keeping us together," Ben said, leaning down with his hands on his knees. "And if that's all we're going to get, I'm okay with it."
Ben's hand hesitantly hovered over Klaus', leading it halfway to the ground. There was nothing between them but empty space, but it felt like so much more. Klaus didn't want to think about the distance.
"There you go," Ben said as Klaus hugged his legs. "You're okay."
His head hurt. Everything hurt.
How could Ben say that, when he was right there, and Klaus couldn't reach him?
He felt the sobs come back, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't choke them. He buried his face into his legs, and let the tears flow. He was just a kid again, followed by his past's torments, defined by the wrong definition.
All Klaus wanted was to be reached.
He was drowning so deeply in his sorrow that he didn't notice the sudden wave of warmth on his shoulder spreading around him like a hug—
A hug.
Klaus lifted his head, blinking the tears away. Ben was knelt at his left, head buried in his neck and arms wrapped around his body and legs.
It really was a hug.
"Ben, you're-"
"Just shut up," Ben mumbled, and Klaus actually felt his breath against his skin, Klaus felt it.
It took him less than a millisecond to turn around and return the hug. He must had been squeezing the last of Ben's life out of him, but the fact hadn't sat with him yet.
Klaus flinched when he felt the tiniest drop of cold water fall at the back his shoulder — it was so cold, unnaturally cold — and it didn't take him long to realise it was a teardrop.
"Are you cryi-"
"Shut up, Klaus," Ben said louder this time, but he didn't sound angry.
"You're not the only one," Klaus said between his sniffles, pulling away, and placing his hands at the sides of Ben's shoulders.
He was squeezing him. Somehow, letting go of him now felt like letting go forever.
Ben's entire body was shaking, and a stream of tears was running down his cheeks. He looked overwhelmed in all ways possible, confused, scared…
Klaus had no idea why he laughed.
"What?" Ben asked, finally looking Klaus in the eye. "What's so funny?"
"I have literally never seen you cry so much in your life," Klaus said, grinning from ear to ear. "Like, ever."
"You're crying just as much," Ben desperately struggled to get the words out.
"I know," Klaus said and laughed — or cried, or choked, he couldn't tell anymore — and leaned in for another hug.
It felt as if they had been in the middle of the parking lot for hours, both whimpering and holding onto each other for dear life.
Klaus didn't mind.
Being held like this felt so good. He had run into Diego a few weeks ago, but his hug was rushed and held back. His one-night stands weren't the same either; they lacked compassion and love.
"I love you," Klaus mumbled as quietly as he could. He couldn't remember the last time he had said these words out loud.
It only made Ben break into more tears.
Ben tried to open his mouth to speak — or so Klaus assumed, the sounds coming out of it were inhuman — but no words came out.
"What was that?" Klaus asked. "You loathe me?"
It was the first time during that night Klaus heard Ben laugh. Chuckles mixed with sobs, and tears of joy mixed with those of sorrow, all till the positive aspects overtook the negative. Same could be said about Klaus.
"I do loathe you!" Ben finally said, pulling away again. He reached for Klaus' hand, holding it firmly. "But I love you too."
"Do you mean that as in you love me too, or you love me in addition to loathing me?"
Ben bumped his fist on Klaus' torso, then used his sleeve to wipe his tears. "Is that really what you're worried about right now?"
"Should it not be?" Klaus joked. "My brother could potentially hate me, Ben!"
Ben shook his head. "You're such a hypocrite, Klaus."
Klaus smirked. "I know."
He found himself studying Ben. He looked better now that he wasn't hiding his face behind his hood and allowed the light illuminate on him. His eyes were red from crying, but it was comforting, in a way, to see Ben finally be able to feel his tears and express himself freely.
And his smile, god, his smile. Klaus hadn't seen Ben smile so genuinely in weeks.
"What did you do?" he finally asked him, and something in him broke when he saw Ben's expression become serious again. "How did you touch me?"
"I didn't do anything," Ben said. "I just reached out and you were there."
"Huh," Klaus said, rubbing Ben's hand with his thumb. "So I did it?"
Ben smiled. "I think you did."
If only Dad could see him now.
Despite the satisfaction of giving Sir Hargreeves the middle finger, Klaus shook the thought off. He and Ben had a lot to talk about.
"Wanna break into the gas station?" Ben broke the silence again, side-eyeing the building at the other end of the parking. "I'm pretty sure it's abandoned, and it's cold as shit out here."
You can feel the temperature now? Klaus almost asked. It could wait.
"Hohoho, Benny wants to engage in illegal activities now?" Klaus teased him instead.
"Sure, Santa, whatever you say," Ben said.
Klaus got on his feet, helping Ben up. "Race you there?"
"Actually, I think I wanna walk," Ben said, squeezing Klaus' hand a little bit tighter.
Klaus nodded, giving Ben a reassuring smile. After breaking down a dozen times in a row in the middle of a freezing parking lot away from the city, walking didn't sound bad at all.
Klaus squeezed back.
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feainneweddd · 5 years
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RPING COMPANY
Alright this is gonna sound strange and I've never done this before but now I'm starting to get a little desperate 💁‍♀️
Is there anyone wanting to create a roleplay in RDR Universe? I'd love to, but during the years I've lost my old role-playing buddies due to, well, adulthood and adulthood busyness. I'm pretty much up to anything in this point.
I'm a she/her and 26 years old; my only requirement for you is to not to be a minor. I live in Finland and Finnish is my first language so my English is not P E R F E C T, only almost so.
I'm gonna copy/paste a little example of my writing down here, so if you are even a little intrigued, please hmu in here, or Instagram @feainneweddd.
Example:
"I really don't see any reason for you to sit on your ass here no more, Mr. Morgan", the doctor smiled and handed Arthur his weary black hat hanging on the wall. The doctor's office was plain and simple, walls were dark wood and the floor had seen better days - it probably had been white at the start, but had been dirtied to the point of no return along the years and years of patients and doctors walking in and out.
"The bronchitis you had was one of the worst cases I've seen in my life, and it got only worse due to the wrong diagnosis my colleague assigned to you. With proper medication your near death experience would've been avoidable.", the man sighed and scratched his neck, sitting down on a chair by Arthur's bed. "But here you are, even I had little to none hopes in your recovery. And you're free to go."
-----
Arthur breathed - actually breathed - in the hot and stuffy air of Saint Denis harborside. Air in his lungs hurt no more, and he almost felt how his blood sucked up the tiny oxygen cells. The sun was shining low, he could breathe, he would be okay. He would live - it felt odd, since the last three months he'd thought his life was coming to an end. Arthur had already made his peace with death, and now he'd have to start living again. How, though? Arthur watched the people passing by in silence and wondered if he could some day be like them, again.
Couple days turned into a couple of weeks, Arthur had gone back to Beaver Hollow and found the money the gang had had to abandon there - nobody else couldn't get to it, since Abigail had given Arthur the key to the huge chest. Now, when the Pinkertons weren't guarding the place any more, retrieving the money had been easy. Arthur planned on sharing it with the remaining members of Van Der Linde gang, if he ever could find them. The thought of Charles hurt Arthur to the core. Was he alive? Rosalinda? John? Karen? Sean? He'd have to find them. Or would he? What if they'd already got on with their lives, would it be better for Arthur to just.. Stay dead to them? He never had thought very highly of himself; he was a highwayman, a murderer, a cretin and a crook. What sick twist of fate had decided to let him live instead of all the men he'd killed?
Clouds on the sky dampened out the sunlight and Arthur shivered in the sudden cold blow of wind. The cold air came in from the sea, and Arthur shifted in the chair he'd occupied on the saloon's terrace. Lately, he'd been fond of watching and observing people, like he'd have to learn how to be one again. He felt like death still had a grip of him, even if physically he was as healthy as a cowboy in his 40's could be. Not exactly the picture of health, but not dying anyday soon either. He had thought of Charles. The dark, serious, bulk of a young man, whose sense of humour was pretty much nonexistent most of days and his gaze that would burn too Arthur's skull most times. Arthur thought of the times they'd go hunting together, Charles sitting by the fire, and telling Arthur about his people. His mother's tribe, their customs and thoughts of life. They were beautiful thoughts and ways to see things. Arthur hoped, that maybe one day Charles would teach him to think like that too. If he'd ever find the younger man anymore, of course. He would have to find him. Them. All of them. But Charles whereabouts were the only ones he had a sense of. He had stayed in the North, with the Wapiti Indians, after the Chief's - Rain Falls they called him - son had been killed by the army. Arthur had been there too, but he had to leave for the rest of the gang. That was the last time he'd seen Charles, and it'd been months.
--
Arthur sighed - he actually could breathe deep out without starting to choke - and leaned forward to pat Torque's neck. The man had had to buy a new horse after what happened to Gunsmoke when they we're running from the Pinkertons. The black shire stallion snorted and stomped the ground under his hooves as an answer to Arthur's sighs. A beautiful beast, although slightly testy. He'd come around when they'd get to know each other better.
Arthur had ridden almost two full days now. From Saint Denis to Emerald Ranch, and pressing towards North, towards Three Sisters and O'Creagh's Run.
Arthur let the horse pick the speed they were going - super slow - and let his head lull from side to side. Would Charles still be with the Wapitis? Would he even want to see Arthur? Would he-- would Arthur finally be able to confess his feelings to the younger man? Earlier he didn't, because they'd known too little time. After that he thought he was dying, so confessing would've been pretty much only painful and unnecessary. But now?
But what if Charles didn't feel the same?
Arthur raised his gaze to the sky and roughly estimated the amount of remaining daylight. He would not want to camp the night on a Murfree territory - the inbred maniacs were creepy and dangerous enough in the light of the day. Arthur kicked Torque's sides lightly and told him to move his hairy black ass - Hamish, the old hunter living on the shore of O'Creagh's Run, probably would let Arthur spend the night. He could continue his journey to North the next morning."
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celestialsoft · 5 years
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⤻   *       GREETINGS AND HELLO !!!! :   IT IS I   ,   ADMIN EDIE !    HERE ONCE AGAIN HERE TO POST AN INTRO  :~))))  
this time i’m here to introduce you to my tenderhearted wee bab of an angel who clears my skin and grows by crops tBH, FRANK KANGDAE LONGBOTTOM, my lionhearted boi who deserves e v e r y t h i n g ( literally ; empty out your pockets and give EVERYTHING u have to frankleface longbooty—— he . deserves . it . all . !!!!! ) if you’d like to plot, please like this post or hmu in my im’s & without further ado —— here’s frank ! pls love him
⤻   *       APPLICATION   —— !
* ╰    ( KIM YOUNGKYUN )┋have you met ( FRANKLIN KANGDAE LONGBOTTOM ) ? ( he ) reminds me of ( deep loneliness and deep kindness grown in equal parts —— and he speaks, so overcome with love, that i forget we are at war. he grew up hanging lanterns on hilltops to make sure the moon could see at night ; and practiced catching droplets of rain with his lips —— because even the clouds deserved a little romance. ' i infinitesimal being, drunk with the great starry void ' —— tenderhearted boy , luminescent boy : boy frightened , boy destroyed. unravelled by kindness ; compassion consumed —— on the precipice of supernova , he burns brightest in the darkest hour. he looks to me as if he were a man forged entirely of tenderness and the sun ; yet he is the sweet nocturne that plays despite how the beginning of the end has begun ). a ( twenty-one ) year old ( tenth ) year ( gryffindor ), the ( paladin ) is known to be ( + tenderhearted & + clement ), yet ( — oversolicitous & — pensive ). that explains why they’re majoring in ( healing ). rumour has it, ( frank ) is siding with ( the order ) in the solemn war that blazes beyond the castle walls. ( edie, 22, aedt, she/her )
⤻   *       ABOUT FRANK  ——   !!
ahhhhh, frank longbottom —— where do i even start ????? if there’s just one thing that you should absolutely know about frank longbottom, it is that he is a gosh darn heckin’ angel. his heart is ??? so ??? genuinely pure ??? just thinking about it makes me want to tear up tbh
frank is the kind of boy who will charge straight into the carnage and chaos of the whomping willow to save a cat. he’s the kind of boy who hangs out by the edge of the black lake, worried that the giant squid is feeling lonely. he’s the kind of boy who sees the potential for good in everyone & everything, and is genuinely confused and appalled by acts of unkindness and malice when they occur. he chooses the path of benevolence, always, and he wants to keep everyone he loves safe so he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and feels like it is up to him, & him alone, to SAVE THE WORLD and make it a better place. i repeat for you my fronds : frank longbottom gosh darn heckin’ angel. but my god, is he a broken one.
⤻   *       BACKGROUND   ——   !!
frank was born into a sacred 28 pureblood family who cared very little for blood purity, but a whole lot for social justice & fighting for what is right. thomas and augusta longbottom first met at the ministry of magic, where their ‘ left-wing ’ progressive ideas about wizard / muggle / magical creature relations brought them together. their love brought frank longbottom into the world ; a child who was, from an early age, exposed to concepts of in/equality, systematic oppression, privilege, biased public policy, and injustice through his parents.
under the steady & tireless virtuous guidance of his mother and father, frank longbottom bloomed from infancy into childhood with a strong sense of egalitarianism & selflessness that most children only learned well into adolescence, and he had an awareness of the injustices of the world that many people did not gain even well into adulthood. yet despite his parent’s rather strict & heavy hand in discipline, there was always a remarkable air of benevolence and incorruptibility about frank that refused to be befouled.
nevertheless, frank was a terribly lonely child. he was homeschooled by a thoroughly screened, left-wing half-blood governess, and she was just about his only connection to the outside world. it goes without saying that sacred 28 pureblood socialising events & parties were off-limits and out of the question for frank, and since the longbottoms lived in suburban muggle england, frank was always too scared to socialise with many of the children in his neighbourhood, fearful that he would accidentally expose his magical lineage & incur terrible consequences for his folly. shut away in a house of absolute virtue and morality, frank longbottom was a victim of utter loneliness & never got to experience the world his parents adamantly taught and trained him to save … until his letter from hogwarts arrived, that is.
⤻   *       HOGWARTS   ——   !!
frank was a heckin’ confusing four-way house hat stall during his sorting. the hat sensed the resolute loyalty and benevolence of hufflepuff in him, the love and respect for knowledge and learning of ravenclaw in him & the tenacity and ambition to achieve his goals of slytherin in him, but ultimately, the sorting hat settled on “ GRYFFINDOR ! ”, declaring its choice with a booming roar. above all, the sorting hat sensed frank to be brave —— willing ( & desperate, even ) to fight for what is right. it’s a shame that frank, to this day, doesn’t seem to see this bravery in himself. but by the warm beacon of the gryffindor common room fireplace, under the twinkling candlelights of the great hall, and at the top of the astronomy tower ( the stars and galaxies at the reach of his very own fingertips ), frank, at hogwarts has grown to be exactly the kind of person his parents have always wanted him to be : stalwartly true ; combatting hate with kindness, and enveloping cruelty with warmth. he loves deeply and vastly, and he honestly radiates this other-worldy quality of brightness ??? he’s the light in the dark, and oh how he shines. 
however —— the fact that he’s already grown into someone that his parents are proud of doesn’t stop frank from still wanting to be better, and wanting to save the world. what frank doesn’t realise is that he can hardly save the world if he can’t first save himself. he’s constantly emotionally and physically exhausted ; spending every moment of his time helping those around him and making sure to change to the world one kind act at a time. slowly but surely, frank’s bleeding heart and compulsion for kindness is coming to the point of being harmful to his own health and wellbeing. 
so yeah … … . though frank is falling apart, he never lets this show & he really tries to never make this anyone else’s problem. through the haze of responsibility and moral duty that has always clouded frank’s life, there’s still a profound tenderness and warmth about him ; and among all his advocations and efforts towards justice & peacetime, it’s difficult to discern just how deeply scared, lost, and confused the boy is in a world that refuses to cease changing right before his very eyes ; an inevitable war upon the horizon. 
⤻   *       LITTLE HEADCANONS   ——   !!
frank has always been V MAGICALLY GIFTED. he showed his first signs of magic when he was just one and a half, when he had a terrible nightmare & woke up screaming in the middle of the night. instead of waiting for his parents to come and calm him down though, frank simply closed his eyes & focused on his breathing. when his parents stumbled into the room ; sleep hazy in their eyes, they could hardly believe what they saw : the entire room, covered in flowers and lush foliage —— something that frank had somehow conjured up to keep himself calm ( b/c untamed childhood magic be CRAZY ). frank is now able to command wandless magic, which is a GODSEND tbh b/c he’s such a sleep-deprived mess & he loses his wand c o n s t a n t l y istG
being a sacred 28 pureblood with quite advanced magical abilities, frank has always been in high demand for pureblood partnership through an arranged marriage. his parents, have always hastily shot down offers ( bc they aren’t all up in that pureblooded nonsense ! ), but that hasn’t stopped pureblooded parents from reaching out anyway :/ yIKEs :/// 
frank is part of the slug club ,,,,,,,,,,,,, and like ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, every single other club / extracurricular. baby longbottom is an OVERACHIEVER EXTRAORDINAIRE —— YA BOI DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO CHILL. it’s not that frank is driven by any sort of particular ambition and self-interest, though ?? rather, frank’s heavy involvement in every aspect of school life stems from the aforementioned incredible pressure of his parent’s expectations ; frank applying himself to every possible aspect of school life and extracurriculars in the hopes that he will make them proud
frank has so little chill that he’s actually started sleepwalking … yikes ????? it probably doesn’t help that frank is involved in almost every sport club tbH, & he is also gryffindor quidditch team’s seeker. the thing is that he could never give any sport up. sport is so cathartic for frankie my boi, because it helps him forget his worries & his responsibilities. while he’s playing sport he is just a body —— he is pulsing blood, deep breaths & he is free.
⤻   *       OTHER FUN FACTS / GENERAL SUMMARY DOT POINTS ABOUT FRANKLEFACE LONGBOOTY   ——   !!
THE MOST CLEAN CUT KID OF THE YEAR AWARD GOES TO : frank longbottom, OFC. innuendo is lost on the kid ( he is v v v lost every time someone uses the word ‘ wand ’ as double entendre ), and has only consumed alcohol once in his life —— and even then, it was by accident ( it was in a spiked cherry berry trifle at an end of year christmas party back in first year ). 
LATELY, THOUGH, frank has taken up smoking. he does it in secret ; one cigarette every night in the astronomy tower, or by the black lake. if anyone ever found out about this frank would be MORTIFIED & would legitimately probably DIE of shame, so ………….. *coughs* someone pls walk in on him smoking one day. 
it’s so strange, because frank is incredibly in touch with the real travesties and injustices of the world, but in many ways he’s completely naive and lacking in real life experience. he is such an experientially sheltered kiddo, someone pls take him out and get him RAGING DRUNK bc he needs to chill out tbH
#mumfriend
takes literally 15 minutes out of each of his days to have a few conversations with a few of hogwarts’ cats ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, what a loser ??
gets excited when people ask him for help with their homework ( hELP ME ???? )
excels at all his subjects, but has a particular soft-spot for astronomy, herbology and care of magical creatures :’)
LOVES KNITTING —— stress knits a lot . he’d like to just knit the entire world up into a snug lil blanket and keep it safe and warm 
wants to single handedly save the world
did i mention ????? babe is a gosh dark heckin’ angel
in the mirror of erised, frank would see all his friends and family happy and smiling —— but he wouldn’t even be in the frame. mY HEART BREAKS OVER THIS HEADCANON TBH
frank has a cat named alexis de tocqueville 
i’ve run out of things to dot point & this is probably WAY TOO LONG ALREADY ANYWAY ??? so i’ll stop :o :o :o but please come and interact with my son ?!!!!!!??!? i love yall peace out
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mxndwitch · 5 years
Text
Headcanon: Early life
These are my headcanons surrounding Wanda’s early years, up until Age of Ultron. Please note that this is MY version of events. You need in no way agree with me, nor adapt to my backstory, if you portray Pietro ( or anyone else relevant to Wanda’s past and affected by my headcanons ) and have a different idea. I just ask you kindly to drop into my IMs and discuss background thoughts with me, before interacting with Wanda. Please also keep in mind that my blog is MCU based and has no comic influence whatsoever. I personally have very little knowledge about the comics, so sticking with MCU canon is easier for me. If you write Magneto or anyone else involved with Wanda in the comics, please hmu for plotting before interacting. I am open to it, but it just isn’t my main verse.
EARLY CHILDHOOD & TEENAGE YEARS
Wanda and Pietro were born into a loving family. They didn't have much, but the majority of Sokovia was anything but rich, so they never felt like they lacked a thing. There was always food on the table, clothes on there bodies and love from their parents, so what else would they need? The one thing they realized quickly, however, was that Sokovia was not a safe place to be. Civil wars had plagued their home for many decades on and off, so their parents were no strangers to violence and sirens ringing through the night.
One night when Wanda and Pietro were ten years old, a mortar shell hit their apartment while they sat at the dinner table, instantly killing their parents. Another shell hit, but didn't detonate. The children were trapped for two days, scared to move, because they didn't want the shell to explode. They held onto each other and all they saw for those dreadful hours, were the words written on the deadly instrument: Stark Industries.
As orphans, the twins were moved into a state run orphanage that was entirely overcrowded and a cruel place to live in. No one actually cared about the children there. They were all being treated miserably, food was rare and they froze at night in their beds, because the heating was broken. Those months spent in the institution were probably the worst for Wanda, because she missed nothing more than the safe home they used to have and the love their parents had given them. Pietro and her were obviously close and it helped her a lot to have him by her side, but the cruelty of the teachers and staff members at the orphanage turned her into a timid, quiet and insecure little girl.
Pietro – the rebel of the two of them – one day decided that it was time to leave. He was done being slapped in the face over untidy beds and dirt on his hands during dinner, so he told his sister that they were going to run away. Wanda had mixed feelings about it, because where would they go? But she naturally followed him anyway, because they were two sides of a coin, always together and connected.
Since there was no family left to go to, they lived on the streets from that day on. It also meant, that Wanda's schooling ended at this point, something she came to regret immensely later on in life, especially when being surrounded by bright minds like Stark and Banner.
The following years were spent on the streets in a war zone. They stayed in their old apartment for a while, because the buildings damaged by bombs just remained uninhabited. No one made an effort to rebuild them, because Sokovia was far too poor for that. They moved houses a lot after their old home proved to crumble with time, being just two among many street kids in their small country. Pietro, who was always much better with people and knew how to keep them alive, was very well known among the other kids and always managed to find food and clothes for them. He knew how to work his charm and smug attitude to get what he wanted and if all else failed, he was good at stealing. Wanda didn't necessarily like that this was how they survived, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Growing up in a war zone was hard on Wanda's rather gentle nature. They saw a lot of devastation, death and tragedy in the years leading up to their affiliation with Hydra. Although they both grew numb towards it over time, watching bombs fall and people being shot on the streets with little to no emotional reaction, their anger grew with the years, towards Stark, who supplied the enemies with weapons, towards America and everyone who was trying to tear Sokovia apart.
In the end, it was Pietro's idea to join Hydra. Wanda wasn't sure about their offer and had doubts, but since she went nowhere without her brother and wasn't going to let him go into any lab without her, she followed as usual – and came to regret that fairly early on. Hydra locked them into cells and started experimenting on them, which killed all other 'test subjects', except for Wanda and Pietro. Although this was by far the most frightening, painful and terrible time they went through, they still both developed a sense of belonging when it came to their tormentors, because ultimately this was supposed to help Sokovia. They joined in the naive, idealistic belief that it would rid the country of everything evil, that they would free their people and get revenge for a lifetime of misery, so Wanda didn't really want to see that they had been deceived and none of that was going to happen. With her new powers, she knew that she no longer belonged into the world of normal people anyway, so where was she supposed to go without Hydra? She saw no other way than to follow, until the events surrounding Ultron changed everything once again.
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rationalisms · 6 years
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mass effect for the ask meme (1/2/3 instead of seaons) ✨
ty tasha
the first character i ever fell in love with:i legit cannot remember, it honestly has been way too long since i first played me1!! i think it might have been tali? at least i’m pretty sure she was the one character i didn’t swap out once for someone else in the team config during my first playthru even when it was combat inconvenient lql
a character i used to love/like, but now do not:i honestly can’t think of anyone? i used to really desperately try to make myself like ashley but lately i’ve just accepted that i have always disliked her and never ever will find anything about her redeeming enough to make up for all the things i hate lol.
a ship i used to love/like, but now do not:when i first played mass effect 2 i actually thought joker and EDI were adorable and really loved the development of their relationship over the game. i was very excited for what me3 might hold for them and uh…. the actual content left me VERY cold lol. i think it’s a shame that their relationship was reduced to “lol hot robot bod” and all the actual development of EDI as a person and sentient being was completely concentrated on shepard alone. that was such a huge missed opportunity.
my ultimate favourite character:m o r d i n!! i love him so much and i have cried so many tears over just how much i love him so many times. he has the hands down BEST arc over the course of the games to me– i adore so much how he changes from someone who’s so remote and concerned with only the macro level of things to someone who learns to actually connect to people as more than just numbers or data. his self sacrifice is the most meaningful to me and i’m the proudest of his development.
prettiest character:samara, boob armor not withstanding lol. jack’s me3 design is gorgeous as well.
my most hated character:it’d be easy to give a p expected answer to this (kai leng or another easily hateable villain) but i think if i had to concentrate solely on characters on the normandy it’d probably honestly be james vega lol. i h a t e d that he was mandatory in me3 and usually avoid interacting with him. he’s the exact stereotype of male gamer self insert character i loathe and he was so discongruent compared to the rest of the team. also his interactions with f!shep made my skin crawl. h8 how you were forced into the dichotomy of ~ooOOOoo flirty~ or “i’m gonna be a huge dick to you for no reason”. just. delete him.
my OTP:f!shep/tali is REAL and i will DIE mad about bioware cutting it from the game!!! ESPECIALLY because they left the lead-up to the romance in and just cut the actual consummation!! i’m still just always crying overa) “you deserve better.” - “i got better shepard. i got you.”b) tali looking out over rannoch and saying “it’s beautiful” and f!shep NEVER EVER LOOKING AWAY FROM HER THE ENTIRE TIME and saying “yes it is” a HATECRIME tbqh fuck you bioware
the other is aria/nyreen they’re… so much….. lawful good and neutral evil exes who are still in love is the BEST set-up and i am still FIRMLY in denial about how they ended. as far as i’m concerned they’re running omega together.
my NOTP:literally any m!shep/female character ship. also f!shep/garrus. he’s SO my little bro to me and the one time i played their romance the content made me suuuper uncomfortable in how awkward it was lol i just can’t get with it.
favourite game and mission: (doing this instead of fav season or ep)me3. ik, ik, people dump on it all the time, but i honestly think it’s a masterpiece and i adore it to pieces. there’s been no other video game since that has affected me emotionally to the same level and there’s so many outstanding moments in it compared to the other two installments (even tho i love those as well). i have my issues with it (who doesn’t lol) but it’s still the best mass effect game for me.
as for fav mission, gotta be citadel dlc. ik, cliche answer BUT it’s such a perfect 3 hours of content i honestly wouldn’t change in any way.
least favourite game and mission:uuuuh i love me1 a lot but it’s my least fav out of the 3 mainly for gameplay reasons (i’m a huge completionist and i HATE having to do all the planet missions in the mako). 
least fav mission is the fucking derelict reaper in me2 it’s the WORST and scares me so bad! i’m bad at survival horror type video games!!! as much as i love how much ME can swerve into a different genre so quickly i am a big baby and i can’t shoot straight
saddest death:man idk how to choose! mordin was saddest to me personally obviously because he’s my favourite character, but his death is also such a satisfying conclusion to his character arc so idk! shepard’s death is gutwrenching as well, but again, it really makes sense to me as a culmination of her story. maybe legion. partly because “does this unit have a soul?” will haunt me forever and partly because that’s the death i felt served the least narrative purpose.
character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate:i don’t HATE him but i never warmed to grunt as much as everyone else seemed to. he’s fine but i don’t really emotionally connect with him as much as with the other squaddies.
my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave:aria and the illusive man lmao. they’re both terrible people and i love them so very much for it. the illusive man is for sure my fav non-reaper antagonist and such an interesting character. and aria should hmu next time i’m free B)
my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave:kaidan……… he has never done a single thing wrong in his life and it, like, actively pains me to have to put him through All That or have to hear about what he’s already been put through throughout the course of the games. let him retire to his parent’s canadian beach house in peace
my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship:the way this question is worded is really annoying me lol. i also don’t think i have any ships i actually feel are like “omg bad dirty wrong” for ME. i want everyone to be happy.
my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship:f!shep/liara and f!shep/kaidan. i like both their romances, especially liara’s, and esp later game content with them is rly good, but i will never care about the actual romances with them as much as i care about the potential of f!shep/tali lol.
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antigoneblue · 6 years
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have you heard about the lawsuit going on with mars argo vs poppy/titanic? i've been following it religiously. i desperately hope mars wins it.
have i heard about it? friend, it’s literally always on my mind. i made my little sister read the lawsuit and told my dad about the whole thing over dinner a few nights ago. i vented to aya’s d&d group about it, and my best friend and i have been talking about it for a while and bitching about poppy & titanic, so yes. yes yes yes.
 i’ve been following it as well as i can, given that i know next to nothing about the judicial system in america. i really hope mars wins as well, it’s what she deserves & her account of what happened makes so much sense and fills in so many blanks & really clarifies things that i think she’s got a good chance. her points are solid and i think she’s really exposed poppy and titanic and they’ve lost a lot of support ever since she came out with it & now the only people who support them are fanatics who don’t want to critically think about the implications of their actions, so uh basically Trashy People.  mars better win this, she’s so brave for speaking out and uhh i know this is an unnecessarily long response but i have Big Feelings about Brittany Sheets, ok. 
also i think it’s worth mentioning that apparently, poppy used some deviantART artist’s gif without asking first & without crediting them in her money music video, and she’s being sued for that as well, if i remember right? her video has been taken down so   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
basically, given all this, anyone capable of logical thought can see that poppy isn’t trustworthy. and i think regardless of the lawsuit (mars really deserves to win though, i will fight for her) a lot of people are seeing that poppy & titanic are both shits and they’re withdrawing their support for those 2. 
sorry, this got so long and i’ve only just gotten started tbh. if you want to talk to me about brittany & things, i actually made a sideblog a few days ago @argoangel so feel free to hmu there as well!!
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Hiya! What about the boys with an online friend/crush/s.o. who suddenly stops talking and just dissapears for around a month before coming back and admitting that they had tried to commit suicide? (Sorry for such a dark topic aha,,)
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Ah, how I love this prompt! I put my all into it, so I apologise if it’s a little long, heh. Although I’m not sure what you meant by ‘the boys’, I’m assuming the V3 boys. If you wanted a different cast, please feel free to request again and I will rewrite it for you. Apologies.
Ask is under the cut, due to being long and potentially triggering. Dark topics, reader beware.
Saihara Shuuichi✎
He didn’t usually go on the internet.
It was strange, why did these people all talk like they knew each other?
Of course, some may actually be planning to meet but… he found it all a bit surreal.
Then, you contacted him.
He was very wary at first, he knew you could be anyone.
Then, you started getting closer and he started trusting you.
Then, it got to the point where you were FaceTiming almost daily.
You were the only person that made him laugh every day and feel happy being himself.
Then, you stopped existing in his life.
He kept messaging, calling… messaging again, calling again.
Always, ALWAYS the beep and the voicemail.
A response text never came.
You never came online.
Though what he found odd was that you hadn’t blocked him.
He was starting to become desperate and that’s when he realised he had a crush on you and boy, what a bad time to realise.
That only made it hurt more.
Then, he saw you typing one day.
He’d almost forgotten about you, it had been 3 weeks since your last message.
You stop typing and just before he gives up hope, you video call him.
You’re… in a hospital?
He’s crying and he doesn’t know why.
He cannot stop crying.
You’re crying too and people are crowding around you, asking why.
Then he realises… you’re in hospital.
The absence, the lack of communication… the hospital… people asking why you were upset… your expression.
You had… you had tried, hadn’t you?!
He could ALWAYS tell there was something else to you.
Occasionally, you would just… show signs.
He hangs up the call, texts ‘I’m coming’. 
Within the next day, he’s there with you.
Amami Rantaro❂
He is kind of a very big deal on the internet.
After all, he has an Instagram account that is often mistaken for a modelling account.
He often has business offers because of how attractive he is and he always has to explain ….. that he’s not a professional model???
One day, he got a completely normal PM from you.
You were absolutely stunning.
WAY better looking than him.
He IMMEDIATELY asked if you were getting the pesky PMS from businesses too.
He was surprised when you said no, you had never heard of such a thing.
How??
You’re actually the best-looking person he’s ever seen?
He has full trust in you immediately.
You talk for a few weeks, constantly.
It’s always you, he ignores all the other messages.
You’ve helped him grow as a person.
But then you’re gone.
It’s been weeks.
Nearly a month, actually.
He’s gone back to being a lot more… boring.
He was extravagant before but now…
But now, he’s just back to normal.
He’s stopped posting.
If you can’t see it, there’s nobody else he cares enough about…
Then, you message him again!
You say that things happened and you… may or may not have tried to kill yourself.
He’s shocked, why would YOU of all people?
You were a literal ray of sunshine…
He does his best to help but he can’t help the hurt.
Kiibo✪
He… does not know what he’s doing.
All the buttons don’t make sense and websites keep asking him to ‘prove he’s not a robot’.
He’s honestly a little offended.
When he visits websites, he does NOT sign up for them to instantly be shamed.
He thinks there should be more robot pride around the internet…
So, he just resorts to posting a message saying…
“Could somebody please help with the internet, I do not understand anything.”
So, you DM him, complimenting his ‘shitpost’.
He gets a little bit huffy at this.
“Are you saying my post is bad? I genuinely do not understand… are you robophobic?”
You’re a bit concerned.
Is this person you’re talking to actually okay-
Are they robotkin or-
You ask him to send a picture of himself, just casually.
He doesn’t find it strange, so he does. 
He’s… holy shit.
He’s a robot.
You’re so excited and start asking a million questions, not realising you’re offending him.
Then, a beautiful friendship starts… and then more.
Kiibo makes an awful attempt at asking you out.
He says that a long distance relationship would a struggle, but he’s a robot so he can deal with it!
You say yes, and that’s the last time you log in.
He’s always checking on you, thinking you’ve ditched him because he’s a robot.
He accepts it eventually and forgets about you.
When you come back online and tell him what had happened, he’s shocked.
So that’s why… 
He tries to comfort you in any way possible and ends up asking his professor to let him see you.
The professor pays for your tickets and gets you down to him as soon as possible.
You’re overjoyed and the happiest you’d been for years.
Kaito Momota✯
You had met on Tumblr.
Kaito had a space blog and one day, you messaged him saying you loved the content.
You started talking more from there, though it annoyed you how OBSESSED with space he was.
You started to like him and then, you asked him out.
Then, you two gained a reputation around Tumblr.
The LITERAL star-crossed lovers.
Actually star-crossed because you know, space blog.
Then, you change your blogs to match each other.
It’s the sappiest thing ever but it’s what happiness feels like.
Then, you end up getting too overexcited.
You accidentally tell your parents about dating Kaito and they treat you awfully for it.
They go on about online dating and its dangers for months and it makes you consider.
What if Kaito isn’t who he says he is?
Meanwhile, on his side, he has NO idea about any of this.
So when you mysteriously disappear, your entire fanbase and ESPECIALLY him are distraught.
Eventually, your fame falls dead but Kaito still remembers.
Then, one day you come back.
All the fame is gone, everything has mellowed down.
You explain everything to him and he feels awful for not realising, though he couldn’t have known.
Your Tumblr fame is never as big as it was before, but it comes back.
Though it’s less crazy this time and you’re content.
You two both love each other very much and that’s all that matters.
Gonta Gokuhara✿
How do use internet-
He’s very confused and doesn’t know where to BEGIN.
Though, he knows how to search on google.
First, he searches where he can talk to people about bugs. 
He finds a chatroom for people who like bugs.
He is then SPAMMED with messages asking rather… inappropriate questions.
It was one of those sites, where anyone could message anything.
He then found a different website.
It was much better!
Good for a gentleman!
Then, he met you…
You were amazing!
You told Gonta everything he needed to know about the internet and listened to him when he ranted about bugs!
Though, you thought his caveman-esque speech was text talk…
Oh no, when you video called, you were a little thrown back by his voice.
AND his appearance.
You were expected a meek, nerdy bug boy.
Instead, you got an oddly handsome, muscular giant man.
So, he wasn’t mucking about with his speech then.
You ask why, a little insensitively, but you were confused.
He tells you his story and he’s honestly the coolest guy you’ve ever met.
Then, you’re gone after a few weeks of talking.
Gonta takes this the worst out of any of the guys…
He’s distraught.
He actually CRIES over this.
Real life tears… for hours.
Then, he kind of forgets about you, though he still hurts.
You were better than any real-life person Gonta had met and now you were gone.
Maybe, you didn’t like him… and nope, you’re back now.
You explain EVERYTHING, knowing Gonta wouldn’t guess by himself.
He’s shocked??
But then he starts breaking down, asking why, over and over.
Didn’t you want to live for him?
If not, BUGS, at least?!
Or just live for the sakes of living and finding a better way to live life??
You can’t get it through to him and contact gets less and less.
Then, you talk about monthly.
It’s still nice to talk to him occasionally, though…
It still hurts. 
You’re both always crying over the same cause, yet you don’t know why.
Ouma Kokichi♕
Just about anyone can guess where you picked this one up.
Of course, on Reddit.
Why was he still on Reddit in this day and age?
“idk why i’m still here but boy i’m living it hmu with good shit”
Immediately, you thought he was a keeper.
Though, he pissed you off at times.
You find it amusing to imagine the number of people over on Tumblr have made callout posts on him.
Like actual legitimate ones.
You were a little shy to approach him at first…
He kinda seemed out of your league.
You know, the feeling when you want to fit in with someone who’s also a memelord, like you, but you feel like you’re too low-level meme for them?
Yeah, that kinda thing.
It took you weeks but you eventually hit send on that DM.
His first intention was to mess you up but then he kinda started to like you.
He opened up to you and you two switched from Reddit boards to Tumblr DMS and then to texting and FaceTiming.
It was like an actual relationship… but friends.
Then, he asked you out.
He meant it, too.
You said yes, thrilled to be going out with someone like him.
Automatically, your online reputation went to rock bottom.
People tried SO HARD to get you to break up with him.
Then one day, he called you, crying.
Not fake crying, like the usual, either.
Actually crying.
He’s sick of everyone wanting to ruin his life, he just likes having a bit of fun.
He says he wouldn’t be surprised if you left one day due to some ‘abuse’ callout post.
You try to comfort him but nothing works.
He mutters goodnight and then hangs up.
He doesn’t speak for months.
Then, you leave too.
He comes back and sees you’re gone.
Of course.. gone.
You come back a month later and you both admit the same thing.
You had both tried to commit suicide.
You don’t know how to comfort each other, so you just leave it.
You book some plane tickets and you take a picture and show him.
Now he’s crying again because he’s so happy.
He tries to cover it up by saying it was fake but you can tell, it wasn’t.
Hopefully.
Korekiyo Shinguuji✞
He’s on a literary site, of course.
Then, he contacts you.
He admires your work and he messages you, praising your work.
You’re thrilled, but you don’t personally talk for another few weeks.
Then, you suggest talking more.
He agrees, he was hoping you’d come forward anyway.
He tells you about his anthropology job and you admit that you don’t do anything.
It’s mostly small talk, but he develops feelings for you.
You’re such an elegant person, in the way you pen your work and in the way you converse with him.
You two have audio called a few times, your voice is deep, monotoned and has a slight… characteristic to it that he can’t put his finger on. 
It’s kind of a snobby tone, but… not with snobby intent?
He talks to you more after those calls… he even tries opening up a little, though very vaguely.
It’s hard for him to talk to you openly.
You’re way above him.
He doesn’t even regularly release works.
It’s you he looks up to and he knows you see him as an underling.
You’re way more mature than he is, despite how he makes himself out to be.
You’re the wise one, he’s just… there.
He notices that you stop coming on one day.
Days pass, no sign.
So much for daily updates on your creations, hm?
Then weeks.
This is getting odd, maybe time to message you.
He asks if you’re alright, but again, subtly.
He does not want to seem clingy towards his literary elder.
Then… a month.
He’s really getting concerned now.
He starts letting loose a little bit.
He starts writing more, maybe in the hopes, you’ll come back.
Maybe it was his lack of work that drove you away from the site…
Perhaps you had moved sites.
He looked for you everywhere.
On every possible site, even the… lower class social media platforms.
No, nothing active.
A few accounts from years ago…
It was heartbreaking, actually. 
Pictures of you as a child…
You always had this elegant aura about you… but before then, just a normal child.
Cute, innocent and wanting the most out of the world.
Tears…?
Yes, tears… they were there.
When you came back, he barely reacted.
You told him about everything but…
And, he wanted to be there for you in such a time of need….
But he was so numb.
Those he loved always left and let his emotions die out.
Then, he deactivated his account.
He never told you how he felt.
He didn’t care anyway…
Hoshi Ryoma☯
You two both meet on an anonymous chat site.
It’s short and simple.
You two become good friends over some time.
You always seem to find each other by asking ‘Is this S/O?’ or “Is this Hoshi?”
Then, you moved platforms.
Multiple times actually.
Many times.
As the internet kept updating, so did your contact.
Anon chats.
More anon chats.
Not-so anon chats.
Forums.
Facebook.
Kik.
Messenger.
Skype.
Discord.
Snapchat and Instagram.
You two talked all the time.
He vented to you, all the time.
You vented to him, all the time.
You relied on each other for emotional support and that was it…
But you didn’t feel the spark.
He had mentioned he wouldn’t mind dating you but… you didn't feel it.
Then, the talk of dating became more and he tried making moves on you…
Though, he swiftly apologised after each time.
He knew he wasn’t worth someone like you.
Then, you kind of doubted his identity.
He seemed too… desperate, for a depressive teenager.
Was he really one of those internet predators…?
You asked about it and he broke down.
He explained that life has been really bad and he isn’t sure how to handle everything.
He’s a little desperate for emotional support and you feel terrible.
When you say a little… you’re lying.
Then, you log off for the night.
The next night turns into a week…
then a month…. and you try to.
Real life things have gotten in the way… so you try to end it all.
Then, it fails.
You wake up.
You’re in the hospital.
So… it didn’t work.
Well, you might as well tell Ryoma… nothing left to do, anyway.
You came back to a message from, saying that he knew what you’d done and that he’d done the same.
Only he knew how to succeed.
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