#brianna babbles

[newty]

scans i made of the fujiya aerith sticker and the tifa/mog/aerith macaron box! feel free to use.

#I LOOOOOVE HEERRRR MY LIFE #ffvii #aerith gainsborough #tifa lockhart #brianna babbles #i have them in bigger sizes too in case u need #but the printing dots are p nasty

[furymint]

2023 Creator Reflection

ffxiv.

1. dance me to the end of love

this one was fun! i always like merging a character's outfit with the bg so i liked doing that again. picking the colors for elliots outfit was also enjoyable. ive wanted to make smth w that cover for a while

2. shame was still the tyrant of his life

i only wrote two nol and eli things this year and neither of them are finished. the first was a continuation of a scene where nol kisses elliot against the blue stained glass in his room--i once posted it but then i deleted it bc it made me feel woozy for its allusions to sex. i wanted to rebuild it and take a shot at it now that im comfortable writing n reading sex, but i never got very far. theres actually lots of nice parts! i just like nols dumb angsting the best!

3. valentine

i really wanted to focus on nol's eye here, but also not make it too obvious lol. i used a ps filter like a schmuck but i wanted it to be darker without making it even more difficult to see, so i took away their bodies and limited the colors to make it what it is.

4. amateur cracksmen

the second nol n eli wip, which doesnt have many interesting lines rn, was a raffles-inspired story where eli drags nol as his valet to a rival artist's house and tries to steal back the brooch that he bought from an underground dealer feat. much babbling abt the state of societal responsibility that war is supposed to bring

ffxvi.

1. herz an herz dir

i wrote some reflections about this one already here. i honestly was very (distressed voice) cant believe im writing pure fanfic for the first time in over ten years and lacked a lot of direction when i started bc uhhhhh terence has 8 and a half mins of screen time. i tried to convince myself that it's not much different than me stealing brucemont for my own evil devices, but the unique perspective of seeing quite so much fan content def influenced my interpretation. i wanted their relationship to be much more imbalanced from the get-go initially--dion using his power unintentionally and terence barely passing a thought abt it until later bc he's just so accustomed to obeying--but i ended up giving terence a lot more sway & ammunition in their argument. the breakfast bed thing is also smth im rly fond of.

2. mund an mund

there's also additional meta for this one here. i made a silly doodle abt it also. dion kept picking fights here! it honestly turned out how i expected. when i first started this fic, i was gonna have dion start out right in oriflamme and meet ter and kihel there, but i booted them to northreach so i could have this stretch of conflict. i think it's like. Bad Pacing. technically. if i still believe the conflict introduced in the next chapter is the core one, that is. which i sorrrrta do. but i dont care bc i rly like the visual of kihel laying in dion's lap and getting to put a gun on the wall w ahmed.

3. eines atems

its been two months since the last chapter and this chapter is humiliatingly not written. i have all my scrambled notes and scenes that i jotted down in between the first two chapters, so i have a full direction, but it's been really difficult to write lately. ive been devoting all my time to trying to recoup my mental health and work on my teredio secret santa. ill start next year with this wip as a priority, so for now i only have the photoshop edit for it. kihel is holding terence's hand--it's his pov turn.

overall i didnt like this year very much. i didn't read, create, research or do a lot even though i tried to. i became really disconnected from all of my friends bc im too tired to stay for rp or hold online conversations. at this point, i dont play ffxiv at all except the few times i managed to rp a little. i moved into nanny's house and have my own space, but don't have the presence of mind to do anything about my pc, books, and so on, although i did make a lot of progress rewrapping my books w fresh wraps and some other things. my plans for next year are to reach out to a couple of my friends, build my pc, relearn + rebuild + relaunch my queer lit blog on open source code, survive school, and rediscover the productivity ive lost the past few years.

teredio has helped me a LOT to find community, inspiration, and art in my loneliest year yet. im very proud of my fic and grateful every day to the ppl who have reached out to me about liking it. even if im sorry about my productivity rate in comparison to how many extraordinary writers there are in the ship's fandom, i know i have to be easy on myself to relearn how to write, create a writing schedule that works for me, and stop punishing myself when i cant get the words out.

past reflections:  2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

#ngl writing this out made me feel like #i reopened a lot of grief about my ability to work and create #and i need to walk away from it before i cry even more lol #thank u to my fc for still being the place #i love to visit when i wake up #even though all of us a struggling a lot #with life and ingame motivation #brianna babbles

[bagelblogging]

Changed Brianna’s outfit to be more ~fancy~

#bagel’s babbles #rainbow high #brianna dulce #rainbow high Brianna dulce #rainbow high restyle

[eddiemunsvns]

i have an idea for an eddie fic but it would just be straight angst

no fluff or smut or anything else

only angst

is that something anybody would want??

#I mean like probably no one would want this #BUT ITS SUCH A GOOD IDEA #and I’m gonna write it anyway #but just trying to get an idea of who would like this #listen I’m sorry all I know how to write is angst #for those of you around for my Peter Parker/harrison Osterfield/Tom Holland says #you know what I’m talking about #anyway let me know if you want this!! #eddie munson #nobody cares brianna #bri babbles

[timeguardians]

How would your muses handle a nuclear disaster if they were involved with it or heard on the news?

Hmm. Good question. This is fun.

Peggy Carter:

Wistful eyes narrow upon Howard Stark's squirming and babbling form. If he didn't appear as many degrees contrite as he did right now, she may not have resisted the URGE to unleashed a balled fist in his direction. She has already dealt with his nuclear radation experimentation ONCE. Twice? Twice is becoming a habit, one she has no desire to keep cultivating. If he is DESTINED to get her killed, can't it be in some less painful fashion?!!!

Peggy's first priority is to SAVE as many people as possible, then to nail the one responsible. Even if it means knocking Howard upside his far-too clever head.

If the case ended up involving her kids @theshxdxw, @americasdaughter or Jamie, she would FREAK. She would stop at NOTHING to stop the event from harming her kids. Sure, they might have varying degrees of Super Serum, but she is not comfortable RISKING them.

_____________________________________________

Jamie Michaela Rogers:

As a Private in the United States Military, she would likely be called upon to respond to an incident like this. Her first goal would be to MOVE as many innocent people as she can into isolation chambers for the help they will so DESPERATELY require. Then, she would seek to take out the threat, no matter the cost, no matter the peril.

She is horrified by what she finds. There's panic in the streets. People are looking for guidance which, likely falls upon her shoulders. Sure. Foundations like SHIELD had preperations for this, but what do you do with the actual fall out. Like her father, her heart is torn. She does all that she can for the victims to make them comfortable. Prays with the ones that she knows will NOT make it.

____________________________________________________

Rose Dewitt Bukater:

Is likely comfortable enough that she hears about it on the news during one of her afternoon paints. Having been through a disaster, she would be oddly captivated by the story. She is not qualified to respond to the incident, but she does likely try to get things together for the survivors. She knows they will likely face some of what she did, on a worse, more ever-lasting scale.

______________________ Brianna Wayne:

With the news headline's flickering rapid-pace across the television screen, has no choice but to allow herself to become distracted. She likely rises, her face horror-stricken by what she sees. At the same time as she's processing the diaster Commisioner Gordon has likely already ignited the Batsignal. One that she would NEVER refuse to answer as Batwoman.

Like Jamie and Peggy, getting innocent people out of harms way is of the upmost importance. Then with some reseaerch and help from Alfred and Foxe, she finds a safe way to dismantle the nuclear toxins and the people responsible for unleashing them. With her wealth, she also spends a good fortune on research, to try and help anyone who has gotten sick because of this attack.

#answered ask #nuclear fall out aus

[alinathefirst]

Characters: Jackson x fem reader.

Staying at home alone has recently been an alarming event for Y/N, because after finding out who Jackson Van de Kamp – her boyfriend, as she thought, really is, the girl worries every time that people hunting for him will find her too. Therefore, when she hears a knock on the door in the evening, she jumps out of bed from fright, cautiously approaches the door and looks through the peephole.

Seeing Jackson outside the door, she closes her eyes for a second, sighing noisily. In addition to her worries, the girl is tormented by resentment and jealousy, because a couple of days ago a friend sent her a photo of a guy kissing Brianna from their school.

When she found out that this was true, and that they had even met more than once, Y/N was in complete shock all day. Her love for Kamp began to evaporate, and anger took its place.

She wants to go as far away as possible so that she never sees him again and not be afraid of everything, but, unfortunately, she doesn’t have and won’t have such an opportunity in the near future.

She was ready to go through all of this: his abilities, his secrecy, perhaps eternal moving to other cities and countries with him, but his act put an end to their relationship.

Finally gathering her courage, she opens up the door to him, trying to look calm and fighting the urge to slap the guy in the face. Without letting her say a word, he quickly pushes the girl into the house, closing the door behind him. Grabs Y/N by the shoulders and hugs her.

"I missed you so much" Jackson kisses her on the cheek and pulls away. "I need to tell you something".

Kamp looks worried and scared, the girl notices this immediately, but continues to stare at him coldly, restraining her real feelings.

The guy starts babbling about escape, surveillance and danger, but the girl, who is getting more and more panicked with every word, interrupts him.

"No, Jackson. After what I've learned about you, I don't want to be with you anymore. I've suffered so much because of you, I've spent so much nerves, and how did it turn out? You got yourself a second girlfriend on the side!".

"No, Y/N, please listen!" Kamp shakes his head, swallowing nervously. "I only love you. I need you!" The guy's eyes turn red and he sniffs. "I can't handle this madness without you..." Jackson's body begins to tremble, and his gaze becomes slightly detached.

The girl throws off the guy's hands and takes a step back. She starts shaking herself, and tears are already flowing down her cheeks.

"Go away, Jackson". She mumbles. "And please don't come into my life anymore".

"But Y/N, please..."

"I said go away!" The girl exclaims, pointing to the door.

"OK... Okay... At least you'll be safe now". Kamp nods, slowly walking backwards towards the exit, not taking his eyes off her. "I promise".

When the guy disappears behind the door, she sobs, finally giving free rein to overwhelmed emotions.

#miles robbins #imagine #miles robbins x reader #dylan lenivy #x files #jackson van de kamp #x files imagine #miles Robbins imagine

[aresenics]

☼  ☾  (   froy  gutierrez , twenty  -  three ,  he  &  him , cisman,  wagner  5  )  -  have   you   seen   WOLFRAM   "   WOLFIE   "   WAGNER  ?  we’ve   heard   through   the.  grapevine   that   they’re   AVID   but   also   WILY.   when   you   think   of   them,   you   think   of   the   deep   rumble   before   a   thunderstorm,   dog   teeth   sinking   into   an   unlucky   kill,   &   stories   of   angels   on   exile .

*̲    ⋅   𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔  :

FULL  NAME:  wolfram  wagner  .

NICKNAME(S):  wolf  ,   wolfie  by  those  he  knows  well  .  it  was  first  used  as  a  term  of  mocking  endearment  by  his  siblings  but  caught  on   . 

AGE:  twenty  -  three  .

GENDER  IDENTITY:  cis  man  .

PRONOUNS:  he  &  him  .

ORIENTATION:  money  . 

LANGUAGE(S)  SPOKEN:  german,  english  ,  french  sign  language  ,   a  bit  of  written  old  prussian  .   spanish  if  you  ask  nicely  .

ACCENT:  just  a  sprinkle  of  german  ,  pretty  subtle  &  only  heard  with  certain  words  .

PARALLEL(S):  eloise  bridgerton  (  s1  bridgerton  )  ,   james  cook  (  skins  )  ,   brianna  hanson  (  grace  &  frankie  )  ,   fleabag  (  fleabag  )  ,  carl  gallagher  (  shameless  )  ,  wolfgang  bogdanow  (  sense8  )  ,  &  maeve  wiley  (  sex  education  ) .

*̲    ⋅   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅    𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒌   :

BIRTH  PARENTS:   status   —  deceased  mother  &  alive  ( ? )  incarcerated  father   .

ADOPTIVE  PARENTS::  status  —  both  deceased  .

SIBLINGS: status  —  alive  ;  five  in  counting  .

DISTANT  RELATIVES:   the  bourbons  (  cousins  )   .

PET(S):  he  was  recently  gifted  a  beauceron  puppy  by  the  french  as  a  welcoming  present  that  he’s  absolutely  displeased  with  .   he’s  named  it  hund  (  or,  “dog”  in  german  )  &  is  determined  not  to  get  attached  . 

*̲    ⋅   𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆  :

FACE  CLAIM:  froy  gutierrez  .

HEIGHT:  six  foot  three  inches  .

HAIR  COLOUR:  buzzed  ,   dirty  blonde  /  sandy  brown  .

EYE  COLOUR:  light  blue  with  a  tinge  of  green  in  the  left  eye  .

BODY  ART:  hidden  underneath  the  rumpled  sleeve  of  his  right  arm  lives  a  dark  two  -  headed  snake  with  parted  mouths  &  forked  tongue  .

REFINERY:  cotton  laborer  shirts  ,  dark  soft  knitted  pants  &  heavy  black  boots  with  an  assortment  of  jewelry  along  his  fingers  &  neck  .

*̲    ⋅   𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓    𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆  :

the   chiseler  -    historically  linked  to  thieves,  but  more  recently  associated  with  just  about  anything.  someone  who  picks  something  apart  a  tiny  bit  at  a  time  .

*̲    ⋅   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒕   𝒐𝒇    𝒊𝒕   :

delicate  ears  &  a  pebble  for  a  nose  chafe  at  the  wind  blowing  through  the  cracks  of  creaking  windows.  two  decadent  children,  one  with  a  shrill  shriek  to  signify  the  start  of  life  &  the  other  with  a  strong  deterrent  for  tears,  having  to  be  startled  not  once  but  twice  to  give  out  a  deafening  cry  into  the  howling  night.    a  sign  their  mother  had  been  waiting  for  before  she  bid  them  a  gentle  kiss  goodnight,  leaving  their  father  to  clutch  his  newfound  children  in  frost  -  bitten  arms,  rough  &  peeled  from  hours  spent  hunching  over  shriveled  crops.  a  mothers  passionate  sacrifice  paralleling  the  brutal  persistence  of  a   newly  widowed  father.  he  honed  down  on   any  skill,  any  trade  to  conjure  up  a  form  of  barter  in  order  to  stuff  what  he  could  into  the  bellies  of  his  children.  some  days  he’d  dismiss  his  own  aching  body,  bones  protesting  at  the  thought  of  continuing  on.  it  was  when  days  of  putting  his  children  to  nap  so  they  would  forget  the  curling  of  their  intestines  became  weeks.  become  months,  that  it   became  too  much.  what  should’ve  been  a  miracle  became  a  burden.  their  father  turned  cheek  at  law  &  honor  to   stare  into  the  face  of   theft  &  embezzlement.  as  every  robin  hood  legend  goes,  he  was  apprehended  &  imprisoned,  what  he  cared  for  most  ripped   from  tainted   hands.  the  twins  were  sent  to  a  nearby  convent,  cared  for  by  nuns.  

wolfram’s   clothing  were  soon  filled  with  holes,  ribs  poking  from  underneath,  falling  asleep  anywhere  &  everywhere  far  too  easily,  bruises  littering  his  throat  &  palms,  &  a  collision  of  rulers  against  skin  on  account  of  not  being  able  to  perform  proper  babbles.  they  might’ve  told  him  that  this  was  for  the  best.  he  honestly  couldn’t  remember  if  they’d  said  anything  to  him  at  all.   not  a  moment  to  spare  before  they  were  adopted  by  the  wagners,  introducing  a  wily  child  who  bared  teeth  at  any  &  all  who  dared  to  touch  him  into  polished  walls;  face  tucked  into  the  crook  of  the  families  royal  canine  -  the  only  stranger  he  immediately  trusted.  a  great  pyrenees  by  the  name  of  silas.

at  age  four  was  when  the  separation  of  his  twin  commenced,  barred  from  any  interaction  &  casted  out  from  being  anywhere  near  him  that  caused  a  breach  of  anxiety,  clawing  &  kicking  at  anyone  who  came  close.  already  deemed  a  problem  child  that  dug  into  places  he  shouldn’t  have;  setting  off  guards  with  a  clunk  of  pots  &  pans,  throwing  false  snakes  on  the  ground  &  startling  horses  enough  to  buck  at  stablehands.  the  softness  he  held  only  reserved  for  that  of  whom  he  called  brother.   and  soon,  sister.   his  lack  of  stillness  caused  a  riff  between  prussian  monarchs,  preference  for  his  kin  subtle  but  there.  their  entire  being  thrown  into  laurie’s  welfare.  “  why  couldn’t  it  be  the  other  ?  ”  whispered  through  the  chamber  halls,  piercing  the  prince’s  crooked  rib.  a  laceration  not  as  deep  as  the  news  that  they  had  given  silas  to  another  doting  family.  face  falling  &  nowhere  to  hide.  at  last,  his  brother’s  health  was  restored  &  what  was  done  was  done.   

fencing  ,  boxing  ,  racing  ,  sports   &  anything  with  a  primal  drive  had  set  him  off  ,  staff  members  &  family  alike  bantering  on  about  how  wolfram’s  true  home  lied  between  the  meadows  &  curling  trees.  never  seen  inside  palace  walls  unless  to  take  rest  for  what  lied  ahead.  or  presumably  up  to  no  good.  it  was  just  a  matter  of  waiting.  patiently  some  days  until  the  firework  of  his  true  intentions  were  lit.  he’s  best  described  by  the  element  of  fire:  passionate,  impulsive,  could  change  on  a  whim,  violent,  temperamental  &  when  not  contained  can  burn  wild.  when  everyone  else  is  running,  keeping  secrets,  afraid  of  drama,  afraid  of  pain  &  afraid  of  the  bad  in  the  world,  he  takes  it  head  on.  forces  the  pain  on  others  as  well  because  the  pain  is  inevitable.  he  would  choose  it  all  again  because  he  believes  in  no  regrets.  he  is  fire  &  fire  burns  absolutely.  

with  supreme  intelligence  he’s  taken  lessons  &  classes  in  hiding,  dubious  with  his  verbage  &  the  casualness  of  knowledge.  a  gratifying  resentment  for  parents  who  paid  none  to  his  potential,  his  desire  to  do  more.  now  he  was  to  take  more.  the  death  of  prussia’s  rulers  has  caused  him  to  go  forth  with  his  habit  of  downing  a  glass   of   red  between  early  &  late  hours,  having  snuff  dumped  into  pocketed  bowls  for  now  &  later.  he’s  a  shoulder  for  his  siblings  as  of  late,  but  just  that.  no  crooning  words,  no  soft  lullabies.  not  a  strife  for  their  passing  to  be  seen.  a  curt  nod  in  response  to  a  litter  of  sorrowful  condolences  &  awkward  glances.

*̲    ⋅   𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅   𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔   :

i  made  a  tag  that  you  can  find  HERE  <3  !  IF  ANY  ARE  TAKEN  I’LL  UPDATE  WITH  NEW  TAGS  :)

#* ━━ w. wagner › intro. #francehq.intro #death tw #abuse tw #drugs tw #0 proofreading was done enjoy xo

[townieleesims]

Eoseph became a child before Journey, but that didn’t change their friendship much. She was as happy to babble to him as ever, about everything from her day to art to princesses to why her mummy was sick all the time now. 

Brianna and Eoseph spent much of their time at the Dovakiin settlement, bonding with Emfreir and Journey and Kaiden. 

Arran was often there too, but neither the Dovakiins nor his own family spent much time with him. 

#gbsc #dovakiin legacy #my screenies

[i-too-saw]

🕯️ The Basics:

Name: Nolanel Feran Age: 21 Race: Wildwood/Ishgardian Elezen Gender: Male Sexuality: Bisexual Martial Status: Single Server: Balmung

🕯️   Physical Appearance:

Hair: A near to shoulder-length mop of thick, curly hair Eyes: Ice blue Height: 6′6″ Build: Strong and somewhat lithe with broad shoulders and built legs. Distinguishing Marks: Scars on his forehead and right cheek, and, although always covered, burns on his hands and legs. Common Accessories: Always a clip on his left ear.

🕯️  Personal:

Profession: Dragoon aligned with House Durendaire. Hobbies: Going to church, reading the Enchiridion, hunting, blacksmithing, dissociating Languages: Common Residence: His family lives in the Brume but he’s most commonly at Congregation, Whitebrim, or wherever he’s stationed. Birthplace: Coerthan Lowlands Patron Deity: Halone the Fury Fears: A Lot. (dragons, heresy, acid, malboros, burns, shameful death, injury, sin, fear itself, social gatherings, etc.)

🕯️   Relationships:

Spouse: None Children: None Parents: Ruelle Feran and Luciane Feran -- he views them both negatively but actively loathes his mother. Siblings: None Other Relatives: None Pets: His war chocobo, Marcasite.

🕯️   Traits:

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

🕯️  additional information:

Smoking Habit: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Drugs: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

🕯️ Possible Hooks:

The Dragonsong War:

If your character fought for Ishgard at any point, there’s a good chance they shared a battlefield with Nolanel. He just might not thank them for it at first.

If your character is also in the Ishgardian military, chances are you’ve come across him as well. Nolanel spends the most time at Whitebrim Front and Falcon’s Nest. He gets the most along with fellow soldiers.

But if they’re a heretic, Nolanel’s really not gonna like them.

Ishgard:

Nolanel spends an inordinate amount of time at Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. He’ll sit in on successive Masses on end making annotations in his pocket Enchiridion.

Although Nolanel avoids alcohol, he drops in on the Forgotten Knight occasionally while visiting the Brume. Whatever money he hasn’t pressed into the palms of beggars goes into food.

Anyone who isn’t Ishgardian gets a cold stare from Nolanel. He’s probably waiting for them to screw up so he can rationalize his xenophobia. Interrupting the order of the city-- or Ishgardian doctrine-- is sure to get him on his feet (and fight, if need be).

Nolanel can be found in other Heavensward areas like the Sea of Clouds and Dravanian Forelands doing patrols and looking for dragons to stab.

Coerthas and Gridania

Nolanel spent the first 14 years of his life in the Coerthan Lowlands, and he visits to chill out when he can. He used to be a ranch hand and he likes to help out in the fields too. In the same line, if your character’s estate is out in the backwoods he probably isn’t too far away.

Heretic hunting can take you to unexpected places. Nolanel occasionally patrols the borders of Ishgard, and that can get him into conflict with the Ixal and occasionally some Gridanians. Sometimes he’ll cross the border, but he tries to check in with the Adders at Fallgourd Float.

He used to mine! And he totally hated it! But he can point your character in the right direction and guilt himself into coming along if they’re looking to plunge into coal and grime.

Nolanel’s a good swimmer as long as the water isn’t 90% frozen. He’s also really terrible at fishing, which he sticks to more often because he hates showing skin. In emulation of Saint Daniffen, he’s starting spear fishing.

Other

Nolanel has an acute moral sense and will intervene in what he sees is unlawful and wrong (but he has loopholes based on bigotry and fear, so he acts according to that about outsiders, voidsent, heresy, etc.)

I’m willing to send him to Gyr Abania as part of Ishgard’s participation in liberation, but other city states are a bit trickier. We can try to work something out if need be!

What I’m Looking For:

Making contacts! I’m not very good at tavern talk and neither is Nolanel but I’m willing to try my best! Nolanel’s mind is very busy, so he works best with something to occupy him outside of conversation like working together on something. Since he can be an intolerant twit, antagonism’s totally all right. I can do fights, too (just ask if you want to do any long-standing injuries). Shipping and multi-shipping’s all right as long as it makes sense for both parties!

Otherwise, I don’t ERP at all. Also, Nolanel wouldn’t be interested in training a non-Ishgardian in the dragoon arts.

OOCly, I Am:

Brianna! I’m 20 and I may be an alligator since I live in Florida. I’m also a v shy bean.

You Can Contact Me Via:

Here, which is my new sideblog for Tumblr RP. But you can also find me on my main @newty​ and my FFXIV blog @theseventhdawn​. If we’re mutuals, you can also ask for my Discord! I’m not often in-game unless I have something planned, but ofc I’ll log if you want to plot, RP, or do some PVE!

#WHEEZES #i spent the whole day doing this askjdasjhf #i hope this is ok omg #brianna babbles #about nolanel #rp #ill prob make a tag page for this blog tmrw

[newty]

i got the new bring arts aerith today and she is. not great.

her neck is way too long since they didnt account for the ball joint. the faceplates are a little loose (with a huge gap in the head!) while the staff is impossible to pull apart. theres a little stand to hold her extra hands on, but it doesn't have enough posts for loose hands when she has the prayer hands on (which took me a solid hr to get on)

i guess she might be accurate size vs the dragoon, who is also a bring arts, but ultimately shes just so small. she's still very cute! but not worth the price

#i need to get the crisis core play arts #and the 1st original play arts one day #i think the extraknights aerith is p cute all things considerer #kotobukiya aerith is......not pretty #ffvii #aerith gainsborough #brianna babbles

[furymint]

thinking abt that time eli swung by nol's house in the brume to pick him up for breakfast and nol's mom was like 'absolutely not'

so elliot took off his earrings and left them on the counter like 'ok. these are my earrings. i have all the purchase receipts. and if i want them back from you, i will ask the temple knights for their assistance. good day! nol, do u feel like pastries or eggs benedict?'

#nol: u just blackmailed my mother #eli: yeah and i have reservations that would be gauche to no-show for #brianna babbles

[noirrose21-blog]

PAINFUL MEMORIES (Young Ian Murray x Reader)

Requested by @bidibibodibibooo

Warnings! ~ she/her pronouns, PTSD, war, death, panic attack

Plot ~ You were a spy for the Allies during the Second World War, during that time you had heard and seen horrible things done by the Nazis. You hadn’t thought of the pain until you see the foundation of the American Revolution begin to take fruit, and Ian notices and comforts you.

————————————————————————

Y/N had been living on Fraser’s Ridge for a few months, taken in by Claire and Jamie, who she had both seen as her parents after accidentally falling through time. Luckily for Y/N, Claire was like her and Jamie was accepting of time travellers. Y/N had met Brianna and Roger, Jamie and Claire’s daughter and her husband who both travelled through the 1970’s, while Y/N had fallen through in 1945, mere 3 weeks after the end of the Second World War.

Y/N’s parents had been killed in the Holocaust, taken as prisoners whilst also spying in Poland for the Allies, only for the Nazis to have discovered them and have thrown them in seperate camps. Y/N had to learn her parents’ fates after speaking with Holocaust survivors and looking at the records the Nazis kept. Records. Like it was something those monsters are proud of.

Y/N was minding her business when a gunshot echoed around the woods, and all she could do was drop to the ground, curl into a ball and cover her ears.

“Please don’t kill me. Please don’t. Please. I’m a British spy. I’m one of you.” She pleaded over and over again.

“Lassie? What are ye doin’?” A familiar Scottish accent asked.

Y/N’s eyes looked up to see Young Ian Murray, Jamie and Claire’s nephew… or one of many nephews. He had returned to Fraser’s Ridge after spending some months with the Native Americans. He was holding a bow and arrow while his hunting companion, Allan Christie, was holding a gun.

“I… I’m sorry…” she muttered.

“Allan, give us a minute, aye?” Ian asked, the Christie son soon left the pair alone.

Ian asked again “Lass? What’s wrong?”

“The gun… I was reminded… of what I went through.” she hyperventilated

Y/N had told Jamie, Claire, Brianna, Roger and Ian about her ordeals. Claire understood the pain of losing parents and the PTSD the war had brought to those who had served and survived, Brianna couldn’t stop crying for her friend, Roger also understood losing parents, but held Y/N’s hand while he comforted his wife, and Jamie said a prayer for her parents, despite the fact that her parents and her weren’t overly religious… and Jewish.

Yep. Y/N’s family were Jewish, so you can imagine the popularity her parents had in the camps and she had as a spy.

“Is it the memories again?” Ian asked, trying to calm you.

Her eyes were tearing up “They murdered them… they bombed… I wish I tortured the fucking monster.”

“Ye mean the men who killed yer parents?” Ian asked

She nodded “Not just them. The man whose hatred sparked the murders.”

Ian sighed. His aunt, Brianna and Roger had told him about WW2 and the tragic events that would happen, including the Holocaust and the man who sparked the agony. Hitler.

He wished he could time travel so he could murder the Nazi dictator and spare the future people the horrors he had heard. Even Jamie was cursing in Gaelic, but alas they couldn’t do anything but feel glad that the man hadn’t been born yet. There was still time.

Ian took her back to the Ridge, where Claire was inside her apothecary when she saw Ian and her adoptive daughter walk in

“Auntie, she’s havin’ a… ‘panic attack’” Ian told the older time traveller.

Claire grabbed Y/N and held her in her arms, soothing the younger girl as she cried.

“I could’ve saved them. I could’ve asked they get asylum. I should’ve…” she began babbling

Claire wiped a tear from Y/N’s eye with her thumb “I know how you feel. I had to listen to two Americans being… well. I had Jamie to help me through, you have Ian.”

“Ian…” Y/N smiled. Ian came and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Aye, lass. Ye have us. I’ll be wit’ ye.” Ian smiled, as did Claire.

She smiled. Claire and Ian were right. She had them. She had the Frasers and the Mackenzies and Fraser’s Ridge.

She had a family.

————————————————————————

NOTE ~ Hello, I hope this didn’t suck. I have a sore throat and a coughing fit so I’m not feeling 100% when I wrote this and for that I do apologise.

#ian murray #young ian murray #young ian #ian murrsy x reader #young ian murray x reader #outlander imagine #outlander x reader #young ian murray imagine #ian murray imagine

[eddiemunsvns]

i'm almost done with my eddie fic and boy is it getting me in my feels

send me an ask here if you want to get a little snippet of it!

it should be up tomorrow (its currently 12 AM where I am)

#eddie my beloved #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #nobody cares brianna #bri babbles

[openheartfanfics]

OHFFs Advent Calendar: Day 1

Family Traditions

Submitted by @liaromancewriter​

Premise: Max and Sienna introduce their son to family traditions and make new memories during the holiday season.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Sienna Trinh x Max Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff Words: 2,100 Event: Advent Calendar

View Maxenna Masterlist

When Sienna Valentine née Trinh had been a little girl, the holiday season was marked by food. Her parents would open their restaurant to people in their local community that didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with.

She and her sister Brianna spent the day in the dining hall helping to serve or clean up. When she was older, Sienna could be found in the kitchen more often than not.

It was a Trinh family tradition born from when her grandparents had settled in the New Orleans area after fleeing Vietnam. As a young bride, her grandmother Linh had felt the loss of loved ones left behind.

To ease her aching heart, her grandfather had created a new tradition: inviting other refugees and those in need to their home to share a communal meal.

Sienna’s love for feeding others came naturally enough and she couldn’t imagine the holidays without it. Now that she had a family of her own, she pondered the importance of tradition for her son.

The Valentines were big on tradition too. For the last few weeks, all Max had talked about was spending Christmas at the family estate in Newport and creating memories with Noah; even though at 12 months their son was more interested in things that sparkled.

Sienna just hoped Max wasn’t too disappointed when Noah’s attention wandered.

They arrived in Newport two days before Christmas to find the estate decked out. The mansion sparkled against the snowy white landscape, and one could hear the distant sounds of the wintery sea to their east.

Noah was certainly enjoying all the attention he was getting from everyone, and babbled happily at the bright, shiny things around him. Given the number of antiques scattered around the house, Sienna held on tight every time he tried to escape, wanting to explore on legs not quite steady.

Clever as always, Max handed over their son to doting grandparents to manage while he dragged Sienna out for a walk around the grounds. Tucked beneath his arm and warm despite the cold, she watched his face come alive as snow started to fall.

“If this continues,” he said gleefully, holding out his hands to catch snowflakes, “we might have enough for an epic Valentine Snow Battle.”

Amused, Sienna thought the expression on Max’s face matched to a T the one she saw on Noah’s whenever he saw something shiny.

Like father, like son, she silently laughed.

By the time, they came back inside Noah had tuckered himself out from all the excitement and Sienna carried him upstairs to the nursery next to their bedroom.

She fed and changed him, laying him down in the crib before switching on a dolphin-themed mobile, a present from his Aunt Cassie. The soft, twinkling melody was guaranteed to put him to sleep.

She leaned back with a smile when Max wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his cheek resting against hers. Together they watched Noah sigh as sleep claimed him, despite his best efforts to resist.

“We’re going to have to keep an eye on him,” whispered Sienna. “There are too many shiny things in the house that are easily breakable.”

She felt Max nod before his arms tightened around her and his lips nuzzled her neck.

“I already spoke to Dudley,” he said, referring to his grandparent’s majordomo. “He’ll make sure the common rooms are fully baby proofed by tomorrow. The others are closed anyway unless there’s company.”

She angled her head to give him access, shivering when that tantalizing tongue of his teased the sensitive shell of her ear. He trailed kisses along the edge of her jaw, his palm cupping her chin to raise it just as his lips settled over hers.

They broke free when Noah whimpered, standing absolutely still in case he woke up. But he just shifted under the covers; his rosebud mouth making smacking noises before settling back into his dreams.

“Come to bed,” said Max, kissing the side of her head.

“I want another one,” said Sienna, feeling love overwhelm her.

“Si…,” he started only to pause and collect his thoughts.

“After what happened last time, I’m not sure we should,” he said, turning her around in his arms. “Everything I read said your condition could come back.”

“But now we know and can monitor it throughout,” she insisted, framing his face between her hands. “I want more children with you, Max.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her intently as conflicting emotions flickered across his eyes. Then his forehead came to rest against hers.

“You know I can never deny you anything, right?” he sighed. “Let’s discuss this after the holidays when things are less hectic. Deal?”

“Deal!” she grinned before her gaze turned coquettish. “I’m not sleepy though.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” he smirked wickedly.

Anticipating her next move, he shifted to cut off her escape, but she evaded his grasp. He caught up to her in the hallway, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into their bedroom. His mouth covered hers to swallow her laughter and the moans that followed. It was a long time before either of them got any sleep.

The next afternoon, Sienna was in her happy place as she rolled pastry dough for the fruit tarts she was making. The large island counter was covered with pans, sliced fruit, and a bowl of cooling custard for the base of the tarts.

Knowing her idiosyncrasies by now, Dudley had arranged for her to take over the secondary kitchen, leaving the main one for the caterers that would prepare the Christmas Day family meal.

Sienna called her mom to catch up, putting her on speaker while she molded the rolled-out pastry inside the fluted tart pan. She brushed the top with egg wash before repeating the same on the second tart.

“Every year, I tell your father we need to replace that table,” her mom was complaining in a loud voice “and every year the man just goes about like it’s not falling apart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the table, Lainey!” Sienna heard her father retort before they switched to arguing in Vietnamese.

Well versed in the fact that her parents loved to needle each other as their way of showing love, Sienna let the argument play out while she placed the pans on a tray and into the oven to bake.

She waited for a break in their back and forth and quickly confirmed that they would arrive in Newport on the twenty-sixth and stay until the day after Noah’s birthday. Rolling her eyes, she disconnected the call as the argument heated up again, this time over the menu.

Listening to her parents and the background sounds of the restaurant getting ready for their annual Christmas Day community lunch made Sienna incredibly homesick. Lost in memories, she wiped away the tears that spilled over from the pool gathering in her eyes.

“Sienna, what’s wrong?”

She looked up to find Max standing in the open doorway, his eyes concerned. He rushed towards her just as she took a deep breath to hold in the tears.

“Nothing,” she said, voice slightly watery. “I’m being silly.”

“You’re standing here crying in the kitchen,” he said, folding her into his arms. “It’s not nothing.”

She inhaled his scent, taking comfort from the way his hands rubbed her back and eased the tension from her body.

“I was talking to my parents and hearing them get ready for tomorrow just made me homesick,” she explained, dabbing her eyes with the napkin he handed her.

She moved out of his arms when the oven timer went off. Covering her hands with thick mitts, she removed the baking tray and placed it on the cooling rack.

“I’m sorry, Si,” he began, scratching the back of his head. “I assumed that we both wanted to come here, but we could have gone to spend the holidays with your family instead.”

“Max…”

Her eyes softened as she closed the distance between them.

“I want to be here, I promise you. I want Noah to experience his first Christmas surrounded by all of this. He’s a Valentine.”

Sienna wondered what he was thinking when he didn’t respond, surveying her instead with his hands tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

“Can you finish this later?” he said finally, glancing at the ingredients and utensils spread out on the counter.

“Yes, of course,” she answered, a bit uncertain about his mood. “I can put everything away in the fridge for now. There’s no rush.”

“Thanks. Grab your coat and stuff and meet me at the back entrance when you’re done,” he told her before walking away.

By the time Sienna made her way to the meeting point, her curiosity was full to bursting. Even more so when she found Max waiting with Noah in his arms, kitted out in full winter gear, from top to bottom. The only part visible was his adorable face with those mischievous eyes and puffed-up cheeks.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he led them down the hallway to the parking garage structure butted up to the side of the house.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, a mysterious smile on his lips when he glanced back at her. “I was going to wait until Cassie got here as she wanted to join you, but I texted her and she’ll meet us there.”

“Where? Join what?” said Sienna, even more confused now.

“Si, what part of ‘It’s a surprise’ did you not get?” he teased.

Sienna held her counsel while Max strapped Noah into the car seat before joining her in the front. She kept quiet as they drove through the security gates, waving at the guards always on duty before he turned onto the road heading into town.

Deciding to let it play out, she absently hummed the melody coming through the car speakers, glancing over at Max every few minutes. She narrowed her eyes when she caught his smile, but her heart rate jumped when he raised their joined hands to place a kiss across her knuckles.

The car slowed down as he turned down a side road off Thames Street, and then turned again before parking outside a weathered wooden structure with barn-like doors festooned with fairy lights and a large wreath in the center. There were several cars and vans parked outside, as well as people coming and going from the building.

“Will you please tell me what’s going on now?” asked Sienna, unbuckling her seatbelt as she tried to make out what the building was for.

Before he could respond, another car pulled up beside them, and she saw Cassie and Ethan through the window.

“It’s simple,” he said, covering both her hands with his. “It’s the start of a new Valentine-Trinh tradition, one that shows Noah both sides of where he comes from.”

When she continued to look confused, he kept her hand in his while reaching behind to hold Noahs’s so that the three of them were connected.

“Inside that building is a soup kitchen run by one of the local charities,” he explained as realization started to dawn on her.

“I signed us up to volunteer for their Christmas Eve dinner shift tonight. You can help out in the kitchen or join Noah and me in the front,” he continued. “On Christmas Day, we’ll open the presents waiting under the tree and have a family dinner at the house. This way, Noah gets to experience both our families’ holiday traditions.”

“Max, how do you make me fall even deeper in love with you?” she said, her heart so full of emotion that it was a wonder she could speak at all.

“Earlier, you said Noah was a Valentine,” said Max, brushing away the lone tear that tracked down her cheek. “But he���s also a Trinh. And I don’t want you think I don’t recognize what that means.”

“I never thought that,” she assured him, squeezing his hand. “I know he’s too young to remember today, but one day we’ll tell him how this tradition started. And I know he’ll be as proud to be yours as I am.”

He reached across the console, his lips closing over hers in a warm embrace that promised her a lifetime of precious moments and traditions that would always be uniquely theirs.

#submission #oph advent calendar #open heart fanfics #choices open heart #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfic #open heart #sienna x m!oc #sienna: family #trope: holidays

[flawcdexistence]

closed for @edgecfeden​

brianna lives by the yolo state of mind, because why not seize the moment when it’s necessary? such a state of mind is part of the reason her and addison get along so well because there’s rarely a moment when addison isn’t seizing something, especially when there’s a chance to get her dick wet involved. perhaps pending a good portion of the day sending addison lingerie selfies hadn’t been the most delicate move, but it’s been a few weeks since she’s seen the redhead and maybe brianna misses her cock just a little bit. her intention hadn’t been to tease her so much as vie for an honest opinion. all brianna ended up with was a bag full of bras (far too many) and a pair of wet panties because addison hadn’t made it a secret what kind of reaction brianna had encouraged with her pictures. hence why brianna is standing on addison’s doorstep with a bag of take out and wearing a very low cut dress that accentuates the red bra addison rated the highest. “listen, i know you didn’t ask for food, but i brought some anyway. i was always told never to show up anywhere empty handed and while yes, my boobs are more than a handful, food is also sustenance which i have a feeling we’re going to need.” anyone who knows brianna knows she babbles... constantly. 

#edgecfeden #c: brianna westbrook #brianna+addison.001

[imagineclaireandjamie]

If you can’t beat them, join them

Alone Together: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16

“Well that’s good, then. I’m glad that we’ve been able to make up what we lost back when this all hit in March.”

Dougal MacKenzie - Jamie’s boss, and the head of the publishing house - nodded, face a bit pixellated due to the wifi that was always going in and out in the basement where he’d set up shop. “Thankfully the printers were glad to hire the extra staff to keep the presses running overnight. All the new stuff is out, and we’re up to second and third printings on some of the books released last year. And reprinting titles from our back catalogue.”

“It’s a good thing to need to keep up with demand.” Jamie swivelled in his chair - a proper office chair, which thankfully he’d been able to acquire quite early in the pandemic from a neighbor down the hall who had decamped to the Hamptons for the foreseeable future. “And I’m glad that we can provide those extra jobs. It’s still pretty grim out there.”

“How’s Claire?” 

“She’s well. Virtual doctor visits are quite popular these days - whoever would have thought that a year ago?”

Dougal snorted. “Whoever would have thought a lot of things, a year ago?”

“Good point. How about you? How’s Laeticia and the girls?”

“As well as can be. The virtual school is hard. Ten-year-olds aren’t meant to be on Zoom calls all day.”

“I don’t think adults are, either.”

“True. All right, Mr. Fraser - just let me know once you hear back from Bob Higgins about that book he’s writing. Indentured servitude in the American colonies - not exactly an uplifting topic.”

“I promise you it’s good. It’s a huge part of history that not enough people know about.”

“I look forward to it. Take care.”

Before Jamie could say anything further, the “the host has ended the meeting” window popped up on his laptop. 

He leaned back in his chair, stretching. Dougal had always been a tough nut - he wouldn’t have climbed his way to the top of the company otherwise - but the experiences of the year had softened him. The former all-work-and-no-play personality was gone - replaced with a dad who enjoyed spending evenings with the daughters he would rarely see in more normal circumstances.

This year had changed a lot of things, for sure. Perhaps not positive in the scope of the wider world - but definitely more positive in the scope of Jamie’s life. Of his family’s life.

He glanced at the clock on his laptop - 5:32 PM. Time to call it a day and see what his girls were up to.

“Claire?” 

“In the bathroom!” Her voice drifted faintly into the office/closet.

He closed his laptop, stood, stretched again, and turned down the hall.

They were both in the bathroom - Brianna splashing happily in two inches of water in the tub, Claire perched on the toilet and reading an advance proof of a book he’d helped publish. But more than anything - 

“Why are you wearing your swimsuit?”

Claire looked up at him, slid in her bookmark, placed the book on the back of the toilet. “I wanted to see if I still fit into it. And I didn’t want to do more laundry if she got my clothes all wet.”

Jamie swallowed. “You look beautiful.”

She flushed - and he watched it bloom across her chest and all the way down to her navel. “I can barely fit into it.”

“I don’t care.” He knelt on the floor before her, settling his hands on her hips, thumbs tracing the marks still on her skin from carrying Bree. “It’s for the best possible reason.”

She kissed the top of his head. He buried his face against her clavicle.

“I need,” she whispered into the shell of his ear. “I’ve needed all day.”

He kissed the top of one breast. “Do you remember when we talked about that, the first time we realized it?”

She nodded. Beneath his cheek, her heart fluttered. “How it never stopped, for either of us. And we were scared that it would stop.”

He pulled back to kiss up her sternum, and then the side of her neck. “It’s still there. It’s always there.”

She dug her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. “Yes. But it’s...more.”

He kissed her jawline, her chin. Finally, her mouth. She breathed him in.

“So much more,” he rasped. “Is bathtime done?”

She nodded. “Let’s dry off our little girl, and set her pack-and-play in the living room. I’ll do the drying, if you do the setup.”

God, his smile was so beautiful.

He stood, and so did she. He held out the towel and she picked up their wriggling daughter to swaddle her. She followed him into their bedroom where she lay Bree down to change into a fresh diaper and he carefully maneuvered the pack-and-play out of the corner and down the hall to the living room. 

Five minutes later Bree babbled and played with her feet, staring up at the living room ceiling, her coos filtering through the monitor at the side of the bed where her parents found joy in each other.

#;mod gotham #2020 au #Anonymous