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lot-of-nothing · 2 months

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Entwined (Ch. 2)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

After what you thought was a wonderful night together, Melissa leaves you feeling cold.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for all the love with the first chapter. And a huge thank you to @alexusonfire for being my beta <3

Link to Chapter 1

While a comfort show played in the background, you swiped mindlessly on a dating app. There was a part of you that felt as if you were betraying Melissa by doing so, but then again, she dated and even married without much of a thought about you or your relationship. The women you swiped on all seemed nice enough, but they were no Melissa Schemmenti.

You were drawn from your phone when the redhead let herself into your home and held up a Tupperware container to you as she walked past you and into your kitchen. Your eyes followed her sweat pant clad hips the entire time she spoke to you, “I brought puttanesca, and I forgot my show is on in fifteen, so we have to postpone the sex for an hour.”

“You didn’t have to come.” Your response was automatic. By no means were you trying to get her to leave, but she shouldn’t feel so beholden to come by when your relationship was so casual.

Mel paused briefly, glancing over her shoulder with furrowed brows, “Since when did you play all hard to get?”

Rather than respond to her, you turned back to face the television with a roll of your eyes. It was never really worth starting trouble with Melissa. Instead, it is best to just pick and choose your battles.

When she emerged from the kitchen, she was carrying two bowls that she must have pulled from your cabinets. There was a pang in your chest at seeing Mel be so domestic in your own home. It was a sight you yearned for, yet you knew it was best not to get used to it.

She passed off a bowl to you with a commanding tone, “Eat.”

Taking the bowl into your hands, you passed off the remote in return, “What are we watching?”

“Real Housewives.” Mel asked with her mouth full and her forearm covering her mouth from your view. When she finished chewing, she took the phone from your hand and began flipping through the channels in search of her favorite tv show.

You rolled your head over to stare at Melissa with an unenthused reaction - a bit overdramatic, but it reflected your overall disinterest in the reality program.

Mel wouldn’t even give you a glance as she found the right channel. She only held up a hand and sassed you, “I don’t need your shit. Now shhh! It’s starting.”

—

Melissa was on you in an instant when her show was through. She threw her leg over your lap, straddling you with a smirk, “And now I’m ready for ‘ya.”

“Now you’re ready?” You let out a breathy laugh and ran your fingers up her thighs to squeeze her hips. Watching her lips expectantly, you began moving her shirt up slowly. You couldn’t help it as your heartbeat quickened in pace - Melissa was just far too gorgeous.

Melissa began rocking slowly in your lap and you nearly melted as her manicured hands found your cheeks with a hum, “Mhmm...”

She dove down for your lips without any further hesitation. Her kisses were deep and hungry which was often evidence of her impatience. Mel moved her hands from your face and used them to brace herself on the back of the couch. She would always do this, grinding and bucking against you so you would cave in and touch her.

Like clockwork, you did as you were silently commanded, knowing she would only maintain control over you for a few minutes longer. You pulled down on her hips, guiding her to grind against you and earning a groan from her.

The sound was your kryptonite. It was addicting.

You maneuvered swiftly to draw more sounds from her. One arm around her waist, guiding her to grind back and forth, while the other was pushed beneath the waistbands of her sweats and underwear.

Satisfying her needy desires earned you deeper kisses and she moaned into your mouth as your fingers slipped through her folds, “Oh, Jesus..”

When you found she wasn’t as damp as you liked, you withdrew your hand from her underwear. Parting your kiss, you pushed your fingers past your lips and swirled your tongue around the digits.

Spit drenched your fingers when you guided them back to her clit, and the newfound wetness caused her to gasp.

She looked so perfect like this. Forehead pressed to yours. Flyaways of red hair framing her face and dancing in your periphery. Jaw slack with her eyes screwed shut. Soft moans rising from her throat with every shift of your fingers. Her soft breasts threatened to spill from her tank top with every thrust of her hips. Every few moments your name was huffed in the most beautiful, desperate tone. Her hands shifting rapidly between the couch and your shoulders as she sought contact while also attempting to brace herself.

You cooed to her softly, knowing all she needed now was praise. “Pretty girl… so beautiful aren’t you?”

She knew the drill. Melissa knew to answer your question promptly if she wanted you to continue playing with her. She let out a strangled hum to avoid taking away too much of her attention from her own orgasm, “Mhmm.”

Your fingers danced gently at the edges of her face, tucking hair behind her ears. You wanted to kiss her cheeks, but you refrained from the gentle intimacy to avoid spooking Melissa.Your next question flowed from your lips with a tone dripping with intense desire, “Are you gonna make yourself cum on my fingers?”

Mel was doing all the work at this point. Her hips ground erratically, hinting she was getting incredibly close to her climax. She could only answer your question with a strangled hum. “Mhmm.”

“What was that, hon?” You drew your hand back an inch, earning a desperate and frustrated gasp from the redhead.

Her eyes flickered open and you were suddenly face to face with her wild, green hues. Mel was obviously upset with how you were teasing her, but it was laughable with how quickly she folded in the bedroom. Her willpower was all but nonexistent when your hand was down her pants.

She gasped and bucked her hips upward in search of your hand, “Yes… Oh god, yes please…”

“It almost sounds like Melissa Schemmenti is begging.” Your grin was evil as you slipped your fingers back to where they had been previously. The redhead went crazy in your lap, gasping and moaning as her hips writhed in order to achieve her orgasm.

It only took her mere seconds to find it, and with a final buck of her hips, her face was buried into her crook of your neck as she rode out her orgasm and choked out, “Fuck you.”

—

Melissa was running her hands up and down your thighs as she went down on you. She would always get so lost in giving you head that she would come up for air with big gasps. And rarely did she ever stop right away after your orgasm, it typically took writhing and begging to pull her from her pussy eating trance.

When you came, your hips lifted into the air with Melissa’s face still attached - a sight to behold. Your final orgasm (or orgasms) came in a final set of three, rolling together in a way that had you sobbing out in search of reprieve.

When you finally settled, Melissa rested her cheek on your mons and tucked her hands under your sides to better snuggle against you. “Give me a few minutes and then I’ll be ready for another go.”

She always was so avid about giving head to you - a little fact that made you raise your eyebrows in questioning. After all, it seemed a little fruity for her to enjoy it as much as she did.

You had no complaints at the suggestion as your blissed out mind mulled over the events of the past half hour while your eyes focused on the lazily moving ceiling fan, “Mm... Sounds good to me.”

It was hard to draw your attention away from the red hair draped over your middle. And against your better judgment, you began twirling and untwirling the locks around your fingers. Her hair was silky to the touch and the smell of her rose scented shampoo and conditioner wafted up to you.

“Wuddya think you’re doin’?” Mel’s tone seemed slightly annoyed, but she made no effort to move away from you or to get you to stop.

“Oh, relax, tiger.” You teased Melissa, pushing your fingers against her scalp to rub gently. “You aren’t any less tough just ‘cause I’m playin’ with your hair.”

“Hmph.” Melissa begrudgingly turned her attention to the reality show that now graced the tv She told herself that she would only have to allow for it until she was ready for another round of sex.

Rarely would you get these soft moments of intimacy from her. Often she would leave or move away to prevent any prolonged contact like this, but something about spending time together before sex must have softened her up. This moment alone gave you the bittersweet feeling that you fit so well together, but you had to remind yourself of the constant heartbreak she caused you.

Episode after episode of miscellaneous reality television played before you checked in again with the redhead to see if you were done for the evening, “Mel?”

When no response came, you sat up at a low angle to look down at the woman who had fallen asleep on top of you. With a gentle hand, you combed red curls from her face to expose her features softened by slumber. Even with a quick glance of her sleeping face, you were pained by your yearning for her... as you knew the odds were not in your favor.

No one could feel sorry for you. For decades you had inflicted this pain on yourself, letting her back in a moment's notice. And tragically, you worried this pattern was destined to repeat itself as Melissa had a way about her that felt addictive for you.

So while you knew Melissa spending the night would not be good for your heart, you continued played with her hair until you finally fell asleep.

---

The next morning you woke up feeling incredibly stiff from your night spent on the couch. Worst of all, the redhead that had once been sleeping on your stomach was absent. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked around your home for evidence of Melissa’s presence, but her purse and jacket that once sat on a chair near the front door were now gone.

As you looked around, you noticed that you were draped in a blanket and the television had been turned off. When you stood and glanced into the kitchen, your eyes caught a glimpse of the dinner dishes in the drying rack.

You felt your cheek grow warm from the embarrassment. She couldn’t stick around to say goodbye, but she was a decent houseguest and washed the dishes?

Retrieving your phone from the coffee table, you drop yourself down on the couch as you furiously type out a message to the redhead and hit send.

Couldn’t say goodbye before you left?

Her reply came a few minutes later, and you could feel her attitude emanating from the screen - We aren’t dating.

Maybe you should have thought it through more when you replied, but you sent the text anyway - That doesn’t mean I don’t care.

And it was no shock that all you received was radio silence from Melissa. It infuriated you that she couldn’t even send a simple text, a like, or even an emoticon in response. One day turned into a week which turned into a month, and finally there you were three months later with no response.

You were so over it at this point. It was painful and embarrassing that you thought your night together of dinner, tv, and fucking felt so natural and fun - only for her to leave you high and dry before the sun rose.

There was no reason to let Melissa Schemmenti make you feel like this again. It was finally time to move on, and you did with a simple notification from a dating app.

Link to Chapter 3

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #toxic relationship

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sessalover · 4 days

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There’s a video which I hope you’ve seen where an interviewer goes “you’re kind of the it boy right now” to dom and his face LIGHTS UP like a dog being called a good boy and I can just imagine him doing that if you call him pretty or something

pretty boy

pairing: dominic sessa x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff

——————

“hello?!” you called, shutting the front door behind you and slipping your shoes off.

“in the kitchen!” dominic yelled back.

you smiled, your feet aching from a long day of waitressing. you slipped your coat off, leaving it draped over the sofa as you walked into the kitchen. there stood dom, frying something up at the hob, his back facing you.

you walked up, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his back.

dominic’s body shook with laughter, “hello.”

you hummed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blades before stepping away, peering to see what he was cooking.

“spaghetti puttanesca!” he exclaimed, smiling at you.

you groaned, leaning into his shoulder, “thank you, dommy. it was such a long day.”

“yeah?” he asked, you humming in response, “shitty customers?”

you rolled your eyes, moving to set the dining table, “always.”

“oh i didn’t set the table cause i thought you might wanna watch the tv while eating,” dom spoke over his shoulder.

you smiled, sighing at your amazing boyfriend, walking over and kissing his arm, “thank you. how was your day?”

dominic started plating up the food, shrugging, “first day off in months, it was mostly just me sleeping.”

you chuckled, as dominic turned fully towards you, taking you in his arms.

“why don’t you go get into your pyjamas? what do you wanna watch, the office?”

“you’re the best.”

dominic laughed, taking both plates of pasta to the living room and laying them on the coffee table as you went to the bedroom and changed into your pyjamas; noting dominic was still in his.

“oh we’ve got to the last season, y/n! we should watch something else,” dominic called, flicking through netflix.

you arrived back in the living room, adorning your hello kitty pyjamas and striking a pose.

dominic laughed, “looking great.”

“i’ve worked 9 hours, dom, i look like a shell of a person,” you chuckled, collapsing on the sofa as dom handed you your spaghetti, “i think brooklyn 99.”

dominic nodded, both of you with mouths full as he clicked on the show, “do you like it?”

“it’s so good, dom!” you exclaimed, “thank you so much.”

he beamed, wiping your mouth with his thumb.

“you’re the best boyfriend, dom.”

his eyes lit up as they bore into yours.

you giggled, watching it happen, “you’re so beautiful, baby. your eyes are gorgeous.”

dominic laughed, his eyes shining with happiness, “stop!”

“my pretty boy,” you smiled, running his hair through your fingers, pushing it out the way of his face.

dominic shut his eyes, taking your hand out his hair and kissing it gently, “you’re prettier.”

you smiled, kissing his lips softly.

he chuckled, his face a slight red hue of embarrassment, “now leave me alone! i want to eat my spaghetti!”

#dominic sessa imagine #dominic sessa #dominic sessa fanfic #dominic sessa x reader #angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully imagines #angus tully fanfic #dominic sessa fluff #request #anon #gender neutral reader

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gorbalsvampire · 4 months

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On the Proxy Kiss

I wrote this in an attempt to do a plain English explanation for someone on Reddit. Maybe you'll find it useful?

The Giovanni and their associate families used to have a very formal Embrace procedure, overseen by the elders of the Giovanni family itself.

Let's make up a character: call her Alessandra Giovanni. Before Alessandra can be Embraced, she's got to spend time as a ghoul, proving she's worth it. She will be ghouled by someone who is NOT going to Embrace her, and might not even be from the same family. They call it the Proxy Kiss.

The idea is that every new "Giovanni" vampire has gone through an apprenticeship and shown they can cope with the family's activities. Each has bonds to at least two Kindred – the one who ghouled them and the one who Embraced them. Everyone has divided loyalties, and nobody gets to choose their own childer and build up a power base.

If Alessandra has two Giovanni parents, she's a prestigious ghoul. Single blooded. Stronger necromancy. That's what they believe, anyway. Also, as a Giovanni, if she gets sired by someone who isn't a Giovanni, that makes her look bad – like she didn't deserve the family blood and name.

Now let's make up another character: Bruno Puttanesca. Bruno Embraces Alessandra when he feels like it; he doesn't wait for the elders' permission, he doesn't wait for the big family meeting on the 4th of April (when Embrace rights and Proxy Kisses are traditionally assigned). He just goes for it.

This annoys everyone. Alessandra's regnant has lost her ghoul. Alessandra's sire to be has lost his future childe. The Giovanni elders have been disobeyed. And it's Bruno's fault. Alessandra was just THERE.

Why is it Bruno's fault? Because he knows the rules. Because the Giovanni do follow the Camarilla's Traditions (it's part of the Promise, their whole neutrality deal with the Camarilla).

One of those is the Tradition of Progeny – you need permission from your elder to Embrace. Normally this is the Prince, but Giovanni are strictly discouraged from being Princes. They get to do things internally, instead; their own elders decide who gets Embraced.

Another is the Tradition of Accounting. A sire is responsible for the actions of their childe. A childe cannot be responsible for anything. Under vampire law they're basically not a person yet. So even if Alessandra asked for it, manipulated Bruno into Embracing her, he should know better than to say yes.

So Bruno has annoyed the Camarilla as well, by breaking their rules and threatening the security of the Promise.

Bruno is probably going to be punished by someone. It might be the Giovanni, internally, or they might turn him over to the Camarilla and say "this one broke the law, and it's your law: what do you want done with him?"

Alessandra might be killed by the Camarilla – she's not really a person yet, she's a mistake – so the Giovanni will probably deal with it themselves. They're likely to make the vampire who was supposed to Embrace her Blood Bond her instead, or maybe she'll be passed to an elder because nobody else can be trusted.

All that's from the Revised Edition of Clanbook Giovanni. In V5, after the Family Reunion, things are a bit different.

The Giovanni aren't the boss of everyone any more, and the other families are more free to Embrace internally, and local domain law matters more. That said, it's only been a few years, and vampires are slow to adapt.

We don't know exactly when the Reunion happened (it's deliberately vague so Storytellers can do what's best for their game), BUT I think we can use the date of Revised Edition ending as a cutoff point. If Alessandra was Embraced before 2005, the rules above would have been followed.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #clan giovanni #meta #god I love the Proxy Kiss

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miguel-manbemel · 10 months

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Puttanesca

Inspired by an incorrect quote by @vigilantsycamore . CW Language

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides incorrect quote #sanders sides photocomic #logan sanders #remus sanders

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unfortunatetheorist · 7 months

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Quote Debunk 10 - A Series of Unfortunate Debunks:

The Complete Works of Contradictory Logic in ASOUE: Volume I

Part 1 - The Bad Beginning: S1 E1

For Debunk 10, I'm going big: I shall list each and every statement that can confuse or distract viewers the first time around, but on closer inspection, actually make no sense.

12:42 - BAUDELAIRE MANSION DESTROYED (headline)

"But I thought it would cheer them up, the Gloomy Guses!" ¬ Eleanora Poe.

14:17 - "Our home is your home" (Arthur Poe); "But don't touch anything" (Eleanora Poe)

15:39 - "I remember how I was when I was your age" (Mr Poe); "We're all different ages" (Baudelaires)

15:49 - "And he's employed as an actor, so you know his excitement is genuine." ¬ Arthur Poe

26:43 - "I told them to cry using their inside voices" ¬ Olaf

27:51 - "I open my home to them and all they do is complain; the bathroom is filthy, the rat is noisy, the bed is cramped!"

Why are you opening a disgusting, rat-infested home to 3 orphans, Olaf?!

From the same scene, this piece:

"The plural of 'bed' is 'bed'." ¬ Olaf

29:02 - *Puts finger in mouth*; "The lamb was too salty"

30:43 - "Your secret tower room?"; "WRONG! My secret tower room."

33:28 - Pasta Puttanesca; "I wonder what that means in Italian" ¬ K.B.

NO, YOU DO NOT KLAUS! NO, YOU DO NOT!

34:00 - Something I picked up when reviewing the episode for this post: the trolley reads "THIS TROLLEY DOES NOT TURN ON RED LIGHTS"... why? A bit nonsensical if you ask me, but maybe Handler had his reasons...

35:58 - "N! For the knowledge, 'cause I'm very, very smart!" ¬ O.

So smart, you can't spell knowledge. Amazing.

37:25 - "...Like 2 pieces of a bread in the middle of a sandwich." ¬O.

Followed by Sunny's obvious correction.

As of 40:10 - From Olaf's monologue: "...for the purpose of plotting theater..."

Yeah. He told us from the start and we missed it.

40:41 - "There is no 'I' in acting..."

Except for the one right in the middle, of course.

40:58 - "There is only what the French call a certain... 'escargot'. "

What have snails got to do with acting?!

A noteworthy point: Only the villains give this counter-acting logic; maybe my hypothesis will still stand by TE...

¬ Th3r3534ch1ngr4ph, Unfortunate Theorist/Snicketologist

#asoue #vfd #lemony snicket #a series of unfortunate events #snicketverse #asoue netflix #quote debunk #a series of unfortunate debunks #the bad beginning #olaf #mr poe #eleanora poe #arthur poe #the baudelaires #klaus baudelaire

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mgarmagedon · 8 months

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Fav food of all bots? Or they can't eat human food in yours AU?

Actually they can eat our food too! Ofc they have cybertronian cuisine, but it's hard on earth to get natural energon or plants that are growing only on their planet... so ofc they need to put energon to their diet, but they are mixing it with normal food :DD

Bee's favorite food was usually anything that Ratchet was making for him (ofc when whole team Prime was on earth, because Bee thinks that food on cybertron is less tasty...), but if we are going into more specific food he loves soups like cabbage, sorrel and cucumber soup (kapuśniak, szczawowia i ogórkowa)

Sideswipe likes more bread-like food, likes buns, baguettes and croissants! But his all time favorite is fresh bread with a dark crispy crust (he can eat whole burnt bread from time to time XDDD). He loves when Danny is sometimes going to bakery in a morning, and buys yet warm buns!

Drift has more like favorite type of food and not one dish he likes the most... and it's asian cuisine XDD he is always trying to make as much traditional asian food as it's possible for guy who is searching throw internet looking for recipes XDD

But his all time favorite thing on earth to eat is rice and fish, especially fresh on from sweet water.

He is always so angry at Slipstream and Jetstorm, when they are eating cheetos or doritos, because it's unhealthy for their young bodies... meanwhile once a month he is eating hamburger alone in some disgusting roadside restaurant 50 kilometers from their base XDDDDDDDDDDD he feels always so awful after that

Grimlock likes the most vegetables and fruits! After being decepticon and in full rage he may ate only... 2 or 7 cybertronians (MAYBE!!!)...... he feel nauseous when he has to eat any meat. He loves kicking asses of bad decepticons, but after what has happened to him during the war he will vomit if someone force him to eat flesh.

And because how much his body has been destroyed he needs to get a lot of nutritious...

In Strongarm's case she loves very pasta with sauce! Pasta Puttanesca, Carbonara, Shrimp Fra Diavolo, E V E R Y T H I N G! She would kill, rob or anything else for good pasta that her father was making for her (Magnus)

I can also add that Steeljaw can't cook a shit, so he's favorite food is anything that Thunderhoof will cook for him and biscuits with some tea! Actually Hoofy is cooking for their whole team, besides of Clampdown, he wants him to starve. XD

And Danny is cooking for whole Bee team, he feels much more safer when he's doing that! XDD

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thepringlesofblood · 7 months

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Find Out Your Ceresian Senator Name!

(made with love, the d20 gang put a lot of work into diversifying character names, & as I was doing my etymology post I noticed similarities but no clear formula so I thought I’d write one for funsies)

First Name: The first letter of the street you grew up on (if you didn’t grow up on a street feel free to use a town/city name, or a landmark!).

I included alternates for gender reasons - a/o means the name can end with either a or o depending on your preference, e.g. Emilio vs Emilia. You can probably also throw an -e at the end of some of them if (like me) you wanna be a bit nonbinary about it.

A - Aurelius (Adria, Andrea) B - Bianca (Bacchus, Basilla) C - Cara (Cassius, Camila/o) D - Dominic (Donatella/o, Daniela) E - Emanuel (Emanuela, Emilia/o, Eduardo) F - Francisco (Fabrizia/o, Fiero) G - Giuseppe (Graciela, Gio) H - Hercules (Hero, Hermes) I - Ignazia/o (Imelda, Isabella) J - Jupiter (Jiovanni, Juno) K - Katarina (Kronos, Celeste) L - Lorenzo (Luca, Loretta) M - Marco (Messina, Manuela) N - Nunzio (Natalia, Nico) O - Oliverio (Ouranos, Roberta/o) P - Patrizia/o (Paula/o, Pallas) Q - Quirinus (Pietro, Ricarda/o) R - Rizzo (Rafaela/Rafael, Renata) S - Silvio (Sabina/e, Serafina/o) T - Titian (Tullia/o, Terra) U - Ulysses (Urania/Uranus, Rosetta) V - Valentina/o (Venus, Vesta, Vesuvio) W - Luigi (Mario, Rosalina) X - Xanto (Romeo, Diana, Apollo) Y - Ylenia (Saturn/Saturnus, Minerva) Z - Zappa (Mars, Melete, Diana)

Last name: The last letter of your favorite food

A - Bucatini B - Capellini C - Bavette D - Matriciani E - Pappardelle F - Scialatelli G - Spaghettini H - Tagliatelle I - Trenetti J - Vermicelli K - Anelli L - Cascatelli M - Castellane N - Cavatappi O - Farfalle P - Garganelli Q - Passatelli R - Paccheri S - Rigatoni T - Strozzapretti U - Testaroli V - Cannelloni W - Agnolini X - Cappaletti Y - Fagottini Z - Sacchettoni

Voila! Now just put “Senator” (or another Roman govt position if you want) in front of it. I’m Senator Andrea Trenetti!

I also did some optional funsies for those of us with dice we never get to use:

Roll 1d20  

If it lands on a 1, you are straight up a loaf of bread. use the Bread Table under the cut 

If it lands on a 2-10, you are a pasta dish. Use the last name chart for your first name, and use the Pasta Dish Table under the cut for your last

If you roll a nat 20, you are may choose b/w

a popular snack food. Use the Snack Table under the cut .

you can also use the first name chart and use the snack table for your last name if you want

a Ceresian folk deity. not a senator anymore, but arguably funnier. Use the Deity Table under the cut

otherwise, use tables above as normal. 

In The Ravening War, all of the senators also got “tribune” titles like “Tribune of Triscutia” - if you want one of those, you can either:

Use the last name table but use first letter of your favorite food

Use either the Bread, Pasta Dish, or Snack table under the cut

Bread Table

Roll 1d12 or use your birth month

1. Panettone (you have a little Candian on your mother’s side of the family) 2. Muffuletta 3. Pane rustico 4. Panino 5. Pita 6. Tortano 7. Baguette 8. Ciambella 9. Fugassa 10. Friselle 11. Crescentina 12. Boule

Pasta Dish Table

Roll 1d20 or how many mozzarella sticks do you think you could eat in one sitting? (if you can’t eat mozzarella sticks imagine carrot sticks instead)

1. Arrabiatta 2. Amatriciana 3. Bolognese 4. Capresi 5. Bottarga 6. Indiavolati 7. Siracusani 8. Scarpariello 9. Boscaiola 10. Fagioli 11. Lucchesi 12. di Mare 13. Napoletana 14. Puttanesca 15. Ragu 16. Sorrentina 17. Tartufo 18. Valtellina 19. Zucca 20. Cacio-pepe

Snack Table

Roll 1d6, or rate the last movie you saw from 0-5 stars (or 1-6 if you don’t want to do math)

Tostito(s)

if you like you can also use Fritos or Dorito(s)

Chex (you can add a last name that describes the kind of Chex if you want)

Pepperidge (like Pepperidge farms)

Ritz

Kellogg (you can add a last name that describes the kind of Kellogg’s food item if you want)

General Mills

you can forgo the “Senator” title if you so chose and just be “General Mills”

the ancient Roman govt Ceresia is based on had a lot of interplay between the military and the government so like. Generals still have govt. sway.

you could also just be “Senator Mills”

Deity Table

Roll 1d6 or tbh just pick which one you like they’re all fun

you are now known as Ben the Original, but you have never forgotten your past life as Uncle Ben.

you are Little Miss Sunbeam, a maiden goddess of light and happiness

you are the Triple God, the Holy Trinity, and your aspects are Snap, Crackle, and Pop

you are a Keebler elf, one of a large family of forest spirits hidden deep in the mountains on the border of Candia and Ceresia

you are Umaemon, an otherworldly cat-like being with unknowable powers and dual aspects of both cat and human.

you are the Pillsbury Doughboy.

#dnd #d20 #dimension 20 #acoc #trw #the ravening war #original post #i don't know what's wrong with me either #i don't think this is spoilers for anything?#i need to go to bed #ps i couldnt find any italian names that start with W #and all i could think of was waluigi #which is not an italian name #but luigi is!#thats why the W names are mario themed lol

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serenity-lattes · 2 years

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For my Free Space in the @harringroveson-bingo, I present to you an AU based on both of The Princess Diaries movies.

The Prince’s Diaries: A Harringroveson Story

Pairing: Eddie x Steve x Billy

Summary: Steve, a reserved high school senior, is visited by his mysterious aunt and is given the most shocking news imaginable. He’s a prince and with his cousins refusing the throne, he’s also the heir apparent. He’s got his boyfriend Eddie and best friend Robin to help him along the way, but now there’s more trouble than just “prince lessons.” Billy Hargrove is another eligible heir to the throne and oh, is he a piece of work. Who will be the next king?

Warnings: Will add as the story is written.

Chapter 1: Me, a Prince? Shut up!

Chapter 2: Miracles Happen

Chapter 3: Your Crowning Glory

Harringroveson Bingo Masterlist

“Casting” below the cut!

Joyce Byers as Queen Clarisse Renaldi

Steve Harrington as Princess Mia Thermopolis

Robin Buckley as Lilly Moscovitz

Eddie Munson as Michael Moscovitz

Billy Hargrove as Lord Nicholas Devereaux

Jim Hopper as Joe

Terry Ives as Charlotte Kutaway

Ted Wheeler as Baron von Token

Karen Wheeler as Baroness von Token

Murray Bauman as Paolo Puttanesca

Tommy Hagan as Lana Thomas

Carol Perkins as Fontana

Nicole as Anna

Neil Hargrove as Viscount Mabrey

Bob Newby as Prime Minister Motaz

Jonathan and Will Byers as the crown princes who want nothing to do with the throne

Nancy and Mike Wheeler as the children of the Baron and Baroness, who are embarrassed by their parents’ obsession with the crown

Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair as princes who show up for Steve’s slumber party

Jane Ives is Terry’s daughter and good friend of Will growing up

Max Mayfield is a Lady of nobility, a title only bestowed to her upon her mother’s marriage to Neil

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anthrofreshtodeath · 1 year

Text

Crossover Angst

Find previous rizzles/bones crossover work here.

—

When Booth hops out of the Sequioia and opens Brennan’s door, it’s already kinda late. He’s an in-bed-early, wake-up-even-earlier sort of guy, and this Boston team… They burn the candle at both ends. All ends. Hell, they even strike a match under the middle. He’s tired, and he’s hungry, and he needs a couple hours away from the mania to talk things over with his partner.

Who just so happens to be the woman he’s madly in love with. Christ.

“What is this place?” Brennan asks, rousing him out of his exhausted musing. They amble toward a little storefront on Prince Street, which has seen its tourists exit for the day, leaving locals to patronize the restaurants, the butcher shops, the bakeries, during their last few hours of operation. Angelina’s.

“Little Italian joint, Bones,” says Booth, pulling open the door. The heavy, wooden frame squeals as it swings out, and he licks his lips in some relief. “Hear that? Means the food’s gonna be good.”

Brennan is only inches ahead of him, and she turns with a little disbelief. “The squeaky door?” she chuckles, “how could that possibly relate to the quality of food?”

“Don’t know how to explain it; don’t need to,” he tells her. “There’s mostly Sicilian fare but apparently they’ve got a puttanesca that rivals your own.”

“Your favorite,” Brennan chides. “The whore sauce.”

“The whore sauce,” Booth affirms. “But it comes from my neck of the woods, from Rome. So hey, can’t go wrong, right? Anyway, Rizzoli said they had some good vegetarian options.”

“Ah, Jane recommended it,” Brennan draws out. She takes off her trench coat and hangs it over the back of an old wooden chair when the waiter pointed them toward a table toward the windowfront. “That’s why we’re here.”

Booth knots his eyebrows together. He’s good at reading Brennan, probably better than anyone else, but he’s stumped here. That jumble of words usually signals jealousy, especially in girls - women - but Bones looks pleased. Humored. “That a problem?” he asks, searching for more. He needs more.

“Not at all,” Brennan answers. She does this thing where she shrugs and scoots her chair in at the same time, but the movements are fluid. There is no waste, no excess in the motion of her body. This enthralls him; it always had, though he hadn’t realized it until his love for her crashed down on him in a particularly painful, sweet revelation. Smitten had felt like an apt descriptor, but when Jane told him about the Sicilian thunderbolt, that punch of lightning, that felt perfect. And painful. It’s painful to watch her move, but also exhilarating, like he’s just stuck a fork in a socket. “You respect her.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. She’s good people,” Booth says. He takes the menu given to him by the waiter, and nods toward the middle of the page, where all the red wines are named. “Give us a bottle of the Sangiovese, huh? You’re gonna love this one,” he tells Brennan when the waiter nods and turns their wine glasses right side up before going back for the wine. “It’s bold. Real hearty, velvety Italian flavor.”

“Sounds like we’re still talking about Jane,” Brennan teases. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at him, and she offers him one of her signature, garish winks.

Booth turns dour. He crosses his arms, his crisp white shirt rolled up just under his elbows on either side. “What?” he demands.

Brennan registers the change in mood, and he thinks about lightening up because he can tell she doesn’t know what she’s said, what she’s done, but dammit if he isn’t tired of the games. “Well, I… I wasn’t being very serious, Booth.”

“You weren’t, huh?” He prods.

“No, but, what would be the issue if I were? She’s attractive, you’re attractive, and you’re both single. You seem to suit each other. At least, superficially,” Brennan reasons aloud. She leans forward, puts her elbows on the tablecloth. She believes she’s making sense.

And maybe, in any other world, she would be. Maybe, in another world where she and Booth are just partners, just coworkers who collaborate to bring murderers to justice, just colleagues who sometimes grab after-work drinks, this argument would make sense. Rizzoli is… well, Rizzoli looks like a supermodel and she drinks some of his old army buddies under the table. She’s loud and to the point and kind of grumpy, but he can be, too. He thinks back to that early morning last week, when they’d held hands in mass while the priest ushered them through Eucharistic prayer. After all night at the scene of the first fresh crime they’d encountered in their time together, blood and brain matter and torn flesh seared in their consciousness, they’d agreed together that only the blood of Christ would wash it all away. So they’d dropped their scientists at their respective abodes and trudged into St. Joseph’s just after sunrise. And they’d touched because they needed the intimacy, the spirituality, without all the goddamn battle.

Rizzoli’s perfect on paper.

There’s just, y’know, the problem of both of them being in love with someone else. That thought, of yet another opportunity crushed under the weight of Bones’ magnetism, under the way she expands so as to push anything else out of the room, leaving nothing but the two of them and his annoying heart, angers Booth. He turns his eyes toward the flow of wine out of the bottle and into their glasses. He concentrates only on that so that he can speak without raising his voice. “Why you gotta do that? Why- why you gotta try to hook me up with people?”

“Booth, I was just-”

“No! No,” He shudders when he hears his volume the first time, like he’s gunshy of himself. He quiets down, a fist going into his hand when he props his elbows up on the table like she had. “You… I laid my heart out for ya, Bones. I told you I was in love with you. And god help me, I think you feel the same way. But for whatever reason, you didn’t… you can’t go there with me. And I’m tryin’ to be respectful of that. But this? Tryin’ to get me to go out with other people when you know I’m not even thinkin’ about anyone else right now is…”

“Alright, alright,” Brennan puts up her hand just so he’ll stop. “I… I won’t. I won’t anymore. I just… I care about you, Booth,” she confesses, her blue eyes screwed up and watery like she’s in pain, like she has any right to be in pain when she’s done all the pushing. “You deserve to be happy.”

“That doesn’t sound like you stoppin’,” he grumbles.

“I can’t give you what you want. I… don’t know how to be what you need,” Brennan whispers. She cries openly now, and Booth waves the waiter away as a kindness.

But he still seethes. “Easy, Bones. Just be you,” he says, low and full of spite.

“But it’s not that easy. Of course it’s not that easy. I’ve been me with you for years now and I still… I’m still…”

“Afraid?” He mocks, and when she nods because it doesn’t register with her, because she doesn't see the way he has intended to hurt her. “I just… I don’t get it. Help me understand, here, Bones, because you don’t seem to have trouble bein’ what other guys need. Jerks like Stires, Wexler, oh and god, Mark. Remember Mark?”

“I don’t appreciate-” Brennan’s face drops, she sniffles, and her brow furrows, but Booth pushes right through.

“So it’s me, right? Because you have no problem giving them the time of day, and I’m right here. I’m right here and I’m better. So it must just be that I don’t do it for you. I’m not enough of an asshole,” He is quiet and severe, leaning in to make his point.

She looks toward her glass of wine, thinks about throwing it in his face. And Booth knows he’d deserve it. But the bell over the door rings, and whatever, whoever Brennan sees, makes her put her hand down. “I’m leaving. This isn’t the time, or the place. If you want to have a discussion about this like an adult, give me a call.” She rises, snatches her coat from her chair, and glares at him for good measure.

“Oh? And where’re you goin’, huh?” Booth demands.

She aims to hurt him because she puts her face in his. She only does that when she spits fire. “I’m going to Jane’s. She invited me over to watch the game.”

“Oh yeah? Do you even know which game?!” Booth calls when she starts to walk away. He guesses that Jane’s invite was probably for the C’s game, which is currently just underway, and he guesses that Bones had originally turned it down.

“Doesn’t matter!” She shouts back. She’s right. Really doesn’t matter.

___

“Hmm,” Maura holds Jane’s face as they kiss, soft and sweet in the low candlelight illuminating Jane’s small bedroom. Jane is on top of her, they’re under the covers naked, and god it feels good. Like eating cake with your hands or pouring a second glass of rosé when you said you’d just have one. “Hey.”

Jane groans because talking breaks the kiss open. She writhes closer, deepens the post-coital, sweaty embrace between them in hopes that she can erase all language.

Maura must deny her. She offers Jane one last kiss, but then she tilts her head so Jane’s lips shift to her chin, across her jaw, down her neck. “Hey, hey…” she tries again. “I saw you stuffing down that Powerbar on the way back from Amherst this morning. Was that the last thing you ate?”

At the mention of the Powerbar, Jane’s stomach grumbles on Maura’s own. “What’s it to you?” Jane snarks. There is no bite in it, or rather, no power, because Jane currently bites on the mark she’s already left on Maura’s collarbone.

Maura hates that she doesn’t hate it. That she won’t hate walking in public with it on, she won’t hate people seeing it and wondering. Or knowing that it was Jane. “That was almost twelve hours ago. Let me feed you.”

“You already did,” Jane snarks, teeth still out and nipping.

“Jane,” Maura warns. “I’ll go to Angelina’s. Pick something up and bring it back. Eat with me?”

“Angelina’s, huh?” asks Jane, rolling over onto her back so that her shoulder touches Maura’s. Maura kisses it. “Sounds good. I told Booth about it a few days ago. Thought it might be a good place for him to take Doctor B.”

Maura stops mid-smooch, lips pursed and frozen against Jane’s still-warm skin. “And how are things between you and Doctor Brennan?” she finally asks when she regains her thoughts.

“Uh, normal? Things have been a lot less heated,” Jane says. “Uh, well, maybe that’s not the right word. Things are a lot less acrimonious.”

“But still heated?” Maura prods.

Jane chuckles. “Hey, don’t put words in my mouth when I specifically took ‘em out. But I mean, I’m tryin’, honey. I really am. I invited her over to watch the Celtics and Lakers tonight. Teach her the rules of basketball so she, I dunno, can make it a whole game without embarrassing Booth.”

“And she said no?” Maura turns her head at the exact moment Jane turns hers, and they gaze into each other’s eyes. Jane won’t be able to turn away.

“She said no,” Jane affirmed. “But at least she knows I am attempting friendliness after last week.”

Maura pauses for a long time. Then she inches forward to kiss Jane. She injects it with lust, with luscious and wet intent as she rows their swollen, dusky lips together. “Jane?”

“Yeah?” Jane sighs.

“Don’t fuck that woman,” Maura threatens.

Jane smirks, and immediately Maura knows she’s shown Jane a weakness. But there’s no way she can take it back. She hardly cares about her exposed desperation. “Which one?” asks Jane. “Abby in payroll? She’s been wanting me to ask her out for years,” she teases. And god, she’s right. Abby wants Jane, pines for Jane even now. Even if Jane is full of shit. Maura frowns. Jane laughs, then quiets. “Or the Chief Medical Examiner? I heard she’s a real ice queen but I think she likes me.”

Maura softens at that, and shakes her head. This time, it’s her teeth that sink into Jane. Both soft and hard, and into Jane’s shoulder. “Don’t. Fuck. Her.” she reiterates.

There is no room for discussion.

“You got it,” Jane kisses Maura’s forehead with kindness when Maura latches onto her with possession. “You really gonna go get food? Because I could go for that Brasat’.”

“Beef, hmm? You’re quite hungry,” Maura muses, but she does sit up and look for the jeans she put on to come here.

“I just burned an NBA game’s worth of calories!” Jane answers back, But she blushes when Maura looks back from over her shoulder and smirks. They lock eyes, and certainly, the same scene, where Jane grips the corner of the bed while she drives into Maura from on top, crying out when Maura scratches long red lines down her back, runs through both their minds. “But I don’t have to tell you that.”

“I am going to get food, yes. I’ll even get an appetizer for us to share. But you have to get up now,” Maura orders. She stands, her pants on, and she shuffles around until she finds her bra. After that’s on, she shrugs her blouse over her shoulders. Jane continues to lay, and her eyes flutter shut. “I mean it, Jane. I’m not ordering all that food just for you to be too sleepy to eat. Get up. Get dressed. Turn on the game - find a way to stay awake.” Maura says. Then she throws a decorative pillow in Jane’s face.

“Ouch, fuck! Alright, alright, I’m gettin’ up,” grouses Jane.

She does indeed sit, and Maura rewards her with a kiss to the lips. “Good. I’ll be back. Set the table.”

“Yup,” says Jane.

Maura slips on her sandals, and lingers in the bedroom doorway. She doesn’t say anything, but catches Jane’s eye one more time and nods. Then she leaves.

Her car is close; Jane had given up her parking spot for Maura and put the unmarked around the corner. Maura had hidden the giddy, bubbly smile the gesture inspired and opened her legs instead.

She really, really needs to stop doing that. At least, long enough to give her some time to think. Cases like this were always hard, and up until now, Maura had medicated by sliding Jane into place on top of her and blanching her brain. Well, now appears to be more of the same, but then, they’d been married, and it had been… allowed.

She trots down the stairs and out the side exit of the building, straight into the parking area. She gets in her car, turns on the engine, and sighs. They’re grown adults. They can sleep with whomever they please, including each other. But something about all of this feels forbidden, and Maura wonders if that’s why she likes it. That’s the part that she needs to slow down on. The part she needs to figure out. The part that feels like using, as she’d confessed to Jane some nights ago.

Angelina’s is not far from Jane’s place, maybe a ten, fifteen minute drive, so Maura calls in her order before she pulls out of her spot. Maura also contemplates all these things as she maneuvers there, and mourns the Maura who had put down some of the best boundaries of her life at the start of her divorce. Where is that Maura? When she pulls up to the neighborhood, Jane’s old neighborhood, she finds a spot on Hanover Street and makes the short trek over to the storefront, resolving to worry about boundaries after she gets food into Jane’s belly.

When she pulls open the old wooden door and steps inside the entryway, her sandals scrape against the mosaic-style tile until she stops where she stands. “D… Doctor Brennan?” she sputters when the woman herself stands up from her table. Brennan says something to Booth, Maura can tell him by his shoulders, hulking and sad. And then, Brennan makes her way to the door. Toward Maura.

She’s angry. Maura reads the microexpressions and stands aside, while offering a half-smile and a look in that direction. No eye contact, that would make the both of them too uncomfortable. “Doctor Isles,” Brennan says, just before she pushes toward the door. “Have a great night.”

“Are you-? Where-?” Maura is still shocked to see the both of them here, she feels as though she should say more, that they should have a perfunctory conversation at least; her Brahmin upbringing vibrates within her. But Brennan is already gone.

The door swings and rattles in its frame and there are a few head turns from other patrons, but that settles quickly enough as Brennan’s form retreats into the North End evening. Maura walks up to the counter, hands over her card, and in less than a minute or two, both it and her boxes of food are brought out to her, tied up nicely in a plastic bag.

She is about to leave, to abandon the awkward situation she just messily dove into, until she turns and sees Booth’s face - well, she should revise. She doesn’t see his face, because it’s in his large hands, the heels of which press into his cheeks. She shakes her head, and then she crosses the few short feet to get to him. “Sangiovese is one of my favorites,” Maura tells him. He jolts, just a bit, and squints when he looks at her.

“Doctor Isles, hey, how are ya,” He says. There is no conviction in it.

“I’m just fine,” she starts. Then, she puts her bag of food on the table. “I’m picking up dinner for my ex-wife when I know I should not be. I’m very confused. All the time.”

He chuckles once, bitterly. “Yeah? Me too. Join the party,” he says. Then, he shrugs, like the assholishness is something he can remove like a coat. “I’m sorry, y’know. That you and Rizzoli are such a mess.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through your own mess,” Maura nods toward the door. “Is she alright?”

Booth sighs, and leans back into his chair, his glossy eyes toward the ceiling. “I don’t think so. I think I made the mess. And right now she’s, agh. Well, apparently she’s over to your guys’ place to catch…” he slides his watch around, “well, I’m assuming Celtics/Lakers.”

“She’s… she’s going to Jane’s?” Maura asks. Her head pounds, and she squeezes her hands together. She sucks her teeth.

And Booth, of course he reads that. He quirks a brow. “You didn’t know?”

“I thought she said no,” Maura’s acrimony leaks through the veneer, but she pulls it back as soon as it trickles forward. “You didn’t even get to eat?”

Booth chuckles. “No, no we didn’t.”

Maura pats the top of her bag. “Well, let’s eat this, shall we? It’s warm. We shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

Booth leans forward, rubs his hands together. “What about Jane?”

“She ate,” Maura snaps, pink suffusing her cheeks. Vengeance is a dish best not served at all. Her own words ring hollow and mocking in her head - do not fuck that woman. “And if she gets hungry enough she can have some cereal. We’re here, we should enjoy the cuisine while it’s fresh.”

“You know what I really wanna do?” says Booth. He downs the rest of the glass of wine in front of him. “I wanna go over to that bar next door. Screw the food.”

Maura hangs her head and she laughs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Booth. Now that he thinks about it, he’s sure of it. He drops enough cash on the table to cover the bottle of wine and then some, and then he stands up and shrugs his blazer on. “They’re havin’ their fun, why don’t we?”

“Ok,” replies Maura. She stands, too, and smirks when she sees her package on the table. “Screw the food. They have a scrumptious Amarone that I think you’ll like.”

“I will, huh?” asks Booth, holding open the door as they step into the cool spring air. He holds out his elbow and she takes it, even though the walk isn’t long.

“If you’re like me and the Sangiovese is also one of your favorites, yes,” Maura tells him. She gets the door of the next establishment, and she ushers him in with a hand to the small of his back, like Jane is moving through her.

He is surprised by it, but his smile is warm. Not bitter like it had been when she first saw him in Angelina’s. “Well you got me there, it is.”

They take their place at the bar, just a few other drinkers along its edge, and Booth insists that Maura order for them. She does, and he compliments her taste in reds. The dance floor is old, the lights swooping over it reminiscent of a high school dance, but he wags his brows when the music shifts. “Ole Blue Eyes,” he says when Frank Sinatra begins to croon. “My favorite.”

Maura sips the exceptional drink in her glass before setting it down. She pulls her lips back and stares at the napkin under her fingers. “Jane is partial to Dean Martin.”

“Well, can’t go wrong with the Rat Pack,” Booth says. “Hey, did you uh, did you tell her where you were? Tell her you weren’t comin’ back with her food?”

Maura’s face crumples when she shakes her head. She hides from him, and then she lifts her face up so that her tears don’t ruin what little makeup she has on.

Booth shuffles on his feet. Shit. “Uh, hey, Maura, hey. C’mon. You, you wanna go dance? No talkin’. We can just move a little.”

She looks up, and he looks down, and she can tell he has surprised the both of them with his offer. But, what the hell. She takes her drink, then he takes his, and she leads them over to the floor. They are by far the youngest couple currently dancing, the rest of the people their age at various tables, and they aren’t even a couple. They shouldn’t dance.

But Booth stands there, wide angles, gallant masculinity, open arms, and Maura folds into him. She puts her head on his shoulder and the hand he’s not using to hold his wine at his side goes between her own shoulder blades. Nice. Easy. Safe. He sways her, and she is content to be swayed by him - no expectations or rules.

It is the most comfortable she’s felt with a man wrapped around her - when he is devastated by his love for someone else. When her love for someone else keeps her heart far away from his. “I’m sorry,” she tells him.

“Hey no,” he assures her. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’.” Frankie sings and he holds her close, and fuck. This may be the saddest he’s ever been. He prays she doesn’t ask him the same question.

“I’m thinking that I’m here with the wrong Italian, Seeley,” Maura whispers, turning so that it bounces on the cavern of his chest. “You are so unbelievably kind. But wrong. But I can’t stop hurting her.”

“You know, I was just thinkin’ the same thing,” he says. She’s unburdened him with that confession. So hell, maybe, even though it feels like digging a hot poker into his belly, he should just confess, too. “I was thinkin’ that I’m here with the wrong scientist. But she, oh god,” he inhales without exhaling, a ragged breath that cuts into the air around them. He catches her tears like a virus, but his don’t fall. “She can’t stop hurting me. What a pair, huh?”

Maura wraps her arms around his waist despite her drink, as though she’s forgotten it and knows only the shape of the glass in her hand. She squeezes him because he is warm and if she closes her eyes he feels like Jane. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m looking at myself from the outside, unable to get her to stop.”

Maura doesn’t feel like Bones at all. But Maura needs him. Needs him to lie, needs him to hold her, needs him to ride out this slow dance and maybe a few more glasses of wine. “Things are… things are gonna be just fine, Maura. They’re gonna be just fine.”

She doesn’t say it back to him.

#lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #lauren writes crossover fiction too #god this was a little sadder than I intended #it will help you if you read the last piece for *sports context*#I imagine the very next scene to be Jane opening the door in her lounge clothes and a bowl of cereal hoping to see maura on the other side #but it ain’t maura #also don’t worry we’re not and nor will we ever be mixing ships here #b&b and rizzles are too in love with their respective partners to do that

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crownedinmarigolds · 8 months

Note

🔵⚫🪩 - for Noa!

-🪩 ⚪🔴 for... whichever oc you wanna talk about today! - @agoldenshinywireofhope - red, purple, discoball for the oc u want to talk abuot most!! - @lgbtmi

~ Did someone say....... NOA!?!?!? And I'll go ahead and throw in my other asks too here. Thank you all for asking!! 🔴Red- What is a trait your OC has that those around them don't see very often? Is it seen by a rare few or completely overlooked? Noa is a extremely romantic person, and glorifies being a vampire to the nth degree. Many people outside of her best friend Nythanel don't really see this part of her, as she comes off very reserved and no-nonsense in person as she wants to be taken seriously. Noa though longs for deep personal connections, because she firmly believes love and trust are the foundations of the world, but she also knows that is not something easily built or maintained. She also thinks she can only truly connect with someone vampiric, as she believes the highest form of intimacy can only be shared through the Kiss. She is demisexual/asexual and is not interested in sex to show love in that way, she believes firmly in connections and ideals when it comes to legitimate companionship. Not against sex per se, but it's not something she craves, especially after her Embrace. Once you break through that initial front of "serious Giovanni princess," you will see just a young girl who wants nothing more than to have a family. 🔵Blue- How would your OC spend a single day of uninterrupted peace? Where would they go or who would they be with? Noa's has lots of perfect days. Her achievable perfect day is an evening spent inside, spending time with Nythanel as he chatters about something he's working on or what he'd done the evening before, etc, while she quietly listens and studies beside him. He is truly an island of respite in their torrential life. She loves being with her friend doing whatever wacky Thinblood+Giovanni shenigans they get into. 🟣Purple- What is something that your OC could not live without? Family, absolutely. Noa's entire life she was taught that family and love were everything. Protect the family, they will protect you, respect the family, they will respect you. She values that above all things, and to be alone is to be dead. Nythanel is family, even if he is not blood, because he's earned that right, so in a way she could also not be without Nyth either.

⚫Black- When was a moment in your OC's life that they felt the most in control and secure? Was it gained through negative or positive means? Noa has had a few moments of control and security, where she really felt like a real vampire. Her first moment though was of course her Embrace, when she finally felt like she earned everything she'd been fighting to get her entire life. All that studying, not spending time with others, listening intently to Father and never stepping out of line... finally, she was being recognized for her worth. The night she died cradled in her papi's arms was the night she truly felt alive. ⚪White- When was a moment in your OC's life that they felt the most vulnerable and exposed? Were they alone or surrounded? Noa has suffered a great deal of loss over her lifetime as a vampire, but the first time - aside from the loss of her immediate family - was when she left her home in Mexico and met with the Rothsteins and Puttanescas that nested in Las Vegas. Here is where she realized that she was incredibly sheltered and not exposed enough to Giovanni Family politics. Her father before his death clearly intended to get more detailed with how things were ran after after her Embrace, but thanks to the situation, Noa is all alone surrounded by Elders and Ghouls and men who did not respect her. Everyone who had been on her side and encouraging her was dead or unable to be with her at this time, so she had to face the embarrassment of being a sheltered little princess in front of these hard made men on her own. They would learn, of course, but nothing made her feel more vulnerable and alone than being coddled and cooed at by Uncles and Cousins alike. 🪩Disco Ball- What was an achievement that your OC felt worthy of celebrating? Was it a personal victory or a big impact on everyone around them? What keeps them grounded in the worst of times? Noa's crowning achievement is Nythanel's rebirth. Thanks to a domino effect of mistakes when they had fled to Reno Nevada after having to leave Las Vegas in the middle of a Camarilla/Giovanni/Chantry schism, Nythanel was shot near-fatally at the hands of a hunter Noa thought she had control over. While the hunter was quickly dispatched with by her older brother, saving her life after she had been staked and had gasoline poured on her, Nyth's slow Thinblood healing was not going to bring him back to her any time soon. Maybe never. It was keeping him alive, but he was only half there, appearing to be lost in a dark haze. So she vowed that night to make up for all of her errors, for being a terrible friend who didn't think about his safety, and to bring him back to full strength, and even BETTER. They had studied his alchemy and her necromancy together, and after studying his coded notes and combining them with her own writings, she slowly over time accrued all she needed. While her brother and ghoul tended to Nyth's body, she got the Family to bring them to Chicago, where she met with the local Setites, met with Family, and collected ingredients and ritual artifacts. Performing the Lazarus Ritual, Noa slayed her loyal ghoul and gave Nythanel his body, even using a Setite ritual to ensure he kept his perfect heart as his own. It was beautiful, it was perfect, they got to be together again. This time forever and ever.

AHHH long post! BUT THANK YOU FOR ASKING, EVERYONE!

#asks #answered #thetardiswhoneverwas #agoldenshinywireofhope #lgbtmi #ask game #oc information #oc #noa #noa hidalgo #long post #vampire the masquerade #vtm #vtm oc #world of darkness #wod #hecata #giovanni #clan giovanni

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