#i was also drafting nemesis

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

As a subway boss, his charisma stats are stacked. His posture is stooped but he acts with such an air of easy, subconscious confidence that ppl are like 'oh well I guess he's supposed to be here after all'. Plus he's very polite. He is that one meme of "no pets! Well okay, I will allow him because he looks very polite."

THIS IS WHAT I'M SAYIIIIIING!! you get iiiiit!! actually ive been rotating this a bunch in the background lol. bc it Really Is that like. it's not just that he's nice, though that helps a lot—he's a subway boss!! he is very well accustomed to like, handling people, in a variety of situations. from guiding/ordering people who are under his command, to calmly and professionally talking down/reasoning with/reassuring/etc people who he has very little to do with outside of the fact that they're a passenger on the train and are being loud and disruptive/having a really bad day/poorly controlling their pokemon/etc. it's His Job.

and while it might be slightly undercut in hisui by sort of (waves hand generally) all of the rift bullshit fucking with his head and making him generally less sure of himself, it IS a thing that i think still comes through without him even really realizing it's happening.

#the nemesis speaks #the nemesis answers #anonymous #pla analysis #this is part of why i think sheperd joy is such a good last name for him and emmet tbh #like i do think he steps very easily into a sort of. leadership/guidance role. if that's a void that needs filling #he's not the sort of person who DESIRES authority it's just a skill he happens to have grinded to p high levels via subway boss practice #this is something that came across more in earlier drafts of oop ch10 i think #but there he's like. even though. and partially BECAUSE he's not actually like really present #he's also fully not even trying to rein in the Listen Up Here's What We're Doing mode #even akari notes that he can get people to fucking JUMP when he says to #anyway. probably enough rambling. you get the picture. #we were talking abt ingo but i think emmet also has essentially this skill just. a very different brand of it #this probably doesn't need too much explaining to yall i mean youve seen it #you wanna talk about easy confidence well there you go

[unproduciblesmackdown]

yes Hell Yes full "archie's all-american" in riverdale clip

#the epic highs of silently clapping & laughing when everyone whips off their shirt & lows of [when the song cuts off it doesn't resume :( ] #thanks riverdale for that classic (epic highs & lows triumphs & defeats of high school football) #joe iconis #enough sampled you can tell it bops along #archie vaguely looks like an amalgam of all the other guys (with fire in their eyes they know the way their whole lives will play out) #i had Just been watching a video where someone was explaining [musical theatre creation songwriting process] to the camera #so the start of this threw me for a loop like. behind the scenes?? #Youtube #oh lol the first time i saw this it was like fr is the other guy julian supposed to be also archie in this broader way #then via the media analysis of how movement is choreographed and the understudy line i see it's like ''yes and i'm mad abt that'' #tfw you have an archienemesis....def get the vibe either julian's been the cool chill buddy all along or the arch nemesis for half the show #i also appreciate how overall i'd say my idea of riverdale is laughing & having a great time being yourself #but then i remember the wisps of the Drama like the murderer gene & the idfk organ harvesting cult & archie drafted to the trenches #although really maybe all that was also always abt laughing living loving have fun be yourself. i mean godspeed to whatever

[thursdayg1rl]

I literally need to complain abt everything on here or I’ll die

#writing this on the plane so will probably release from drafts when we land #but yeah #um so the guy next to me on the flight is so fucking annoying #listening to whatever bullshit is on his phone out loud … havent we suffered enough #um what else. #the really expensive makeup that my aunt bought me for once was like ten shades too light #bc she got me and my sister the same shade… in what world… #I was serving clown #it’s a foundation but ig I’ll use it like a concealer #managed to make it look normal after ages then my cousin was like ‘take it off’ 🙃 #but it’s crazy tho bc it makes it look like my skin is perfect… #maybe my makeup skillls are improving after watching reels tho that is also a possibility #um what else. girl I am sooo tired #I’ve managed to sleep in like 5 minute increments on the flight #I have not slept in like . um. #might have been more than 24 hrs by no #but I’ll sleep well when I get there hopefully #bc it’s 3 hours ahead .. meaning you have to sleep earlier and wake up earlier… my nemesis #guys I’m so irrationally annoyed at this man next to me .. could you not have been a handsome azeri boy my age 🫠🫠 (delusional) #my illegally downloaded music is serving me well #there’s 3 more hours to the flight and I’m on 70% charge #so 🫡 just have to hope we make it #also have podcasts downloaded so will pursue

[tossawary]

Rewatched the Howl's Moving Castle movie (fantastic animated movie, definitely inspired by more than an adaptation of the book) while doing something else and I was struck this time by the fact that the Prince (Turniphead the Scarecrow) says that he intends to go tell his king to call off the war, but THEN he intends on COMING BACK to Ingary to shoot his shot with Sophie again because (as he says to the flirtatious Witch of the Wastes) "hearts change".

And maybe he will come back to make Sophie an offer of marriage and then leave again when he's turned down, but I imagined for a moment that the Prince (who is possibly the movie's version of Prince Justin, so let's call him Justin) might just... move back into Howl's house without asking and stay there. There are several cases of precedent for this. Also, as Turniphead, he's shown several times helping Sophie with laundry, or playing with Markl, or helping the Witch of the Wastes move around, and Sophie deserves that kind of help around the house! Howl isn't going to reliably do chores.

And you know what? I think Howl would be into that shit. There's something very Wynne-Jonesian about it all still. It's tempting to write a post-canon fic about this situation from the movie with an extra dash of flavoring from the books. Like:

This is the infamous wizard Howl Pendragon/Jenkins, a vain draft-dodging flirt who likes to build moving castles to evade taxes too. The beautifully angry young woman with the silver hair over there is his wife, Sophie Hatter, who may or may not be an extremely powerful witch, but right now she's dusting and do not get in her way. This is Calcifer, the fire demon who used to have Howl's heart and is arguably his other life partner and also might be in love with Sophie, and this is arguably kind of actually his house. The old lady smoking a cigar over there is Howl's ex-girlfriend and former nemesis, the Witch of the Wastes, who now lives in their house. This is Markl, Howl's apprentice, kind of his kid, and there is no explanation of where he comes from or what happened to his parents. The dog used to be(?) the Royal Wizard's spy (Howl used to be her apprentice and potential successor) but now he also just lives here. And that's Prince Justin of Strangia, Sophie's house-boyfriend. Don't listen to the propaganda, he wasn't kidnapped by a heart-eating wizard; he used to be a cursed scarecrow and now he wants to be here to help Sophie do laundry. He's trying to homewreck and Howl thinks it's both funny and hot.

#tossawary hmc #fic ideas #howl pendragon #sophie hatter #prince justin turniphead

[hoakaikapo]

ATTRACTION - Clarisse La Rue x Unclaimed! Fem! Reader

summary: you and clarisse don’t get along, but you both can’t deny that there’s some sort of attraction between the two of you.

warnings: mention of blood

a/n: LOL, sorry this is a huge huge rush draft because i’m working on my ff of clarisse but i just needed to write this out. enjoy!!

—————-

The feeling of a metal blade burned throughout your body as it made contact with your skin. You looked down, blood gushing out of the newly formed wound. It was deeper than your usual cuts. You grunted at the sight of it. You were used to this feeling of getting injured in whatever you did, so you let it bleed out as you charged back at your opponent. You weren’t going to let a measly little cut get in the way of your soon-to-be victory.

You were unsure what was burning in you today to crave victory this badly. Maybe it was because you felt discouraged that she had yet to be claimed. Maybe it was the urge to prove your worth amongst your fellow campers. Maybe it was because your natural nemesis, Clarisse La Rue, was your opponent, the only thing standing between your victory.

The sound of your swords clashing against each other was like music to your ears. You could make up the symphonies in your head, the movement mimicked that of a passionate musician playing their chords. You found sword fighting similar to watching a symphonic orchestra, ones that your mother would take you to when you were younger. You imagined the violinist: their bow gliding across the strings like how a swordsman would glide their sword through their enemies. You imagined the pianist: their hands striking each key like a fighter using their weapon to protect themself and fight back. You saw how each component played into each other, how they created the perfect symphony.

For you, these movements would create your victory.

As much as you hated Clarisse, you also hated to admit that your arch nemesis sword skills were remarkable. In your opinion, Clarisse was an even better fighter than yourself. The only thing that kept her from winning half of the time was her extreme lack of strategy. But, given that she’s the daughter of Ares and extremely hot headed, you figured that strategy never really ran in Clarisse’s blood. You figured that at this point in your sparring, Clarisse would have found some way to cheat her way to a victory. Surprisingly, she was fighting fair and square the entire time.

The arena was packed as far as you could see out of the corners of your eyes. A few campers have to sit on the stairs. You never understood why everyone anticipated this fight. You and Clarisse fought almost all the time in every single encounter you had with each other since you arrived at Camp Half-Blood. However, you figured that maybe the fact that it was for a title or proper victory made it really appealing to the others.

“Are you ready to give up?” Clarisse teased, a sly grin coming over her face. “That cut on your arm looks nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you, La Rue,” You spat back at her. Clarisse growled in response.

You took your stance, repositioning yourself into a much more comfortable position where you could defend herself better. The strategy that you had been using was useless, so you quickly came up with a new one: tire Clarisse out, let her swing at you all she likes until she’s tired. Clarisse began striking her ten times harder than she previously did– as if she was trying to kill you. With every strike, you were able to block it, just barely before Clarisse would strike again. And again. And again until you had managed to swiftly roll from one of her swings which narrowly missed your head.

Finally, Clarisse was getting tired. You could see it in the way Clarisse stood before you; the rising and falling of her chest indicated that while her eyes looked slightly unenergized. You could feel your stamina rejuvenating, like lightning bolts across a stormy sky. With that, you began your counterattack on Clarisse, using your sword to strike as if creating your own symphony.

A swift kick to Clarisse’s left leg and she fell. You - clumsily - landed on top of her due primarily to your lack of balance. You held her sword over Clarisse’s throat, just a few centimeters away from making contact with her skin. You could see the rage in Clarisse’s eyes and feel her anger beneath your body. However, Clarisse did not argue or yell at you. Instead, they stayed in that position; their breathing heavy and slowed, almost in perfect sync, as the arena erupted into applause and cheers for you.

The locker room was empty. Or so you had thought. As you were dressing your wound, you noticed a figure standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You took a cheap shot,” Clarisse’s voice was husky with anger. “Kicking me down like that.”

“Well, I’m not the one who maimed their opponent, aren’t I?” You responded and pointed to your bandage.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You clearly don’t know what the word ‘maim’ means since your arm is still mobile.”

“Oh, wow, I guess you do have a brain after all. Good for you.”

There was something about you that made Clarisse despise you. Maybe it’s the fact that you were remarkably good at sword fighting, especially since you had just bested her in your competition. Maybe it’s how seemingly perfect your features were. Maybe it’s the fact that ever since you arrived at camp, Clarisse could feel that something was … oddly forbidden and unfamiliar about you.

“Well, I’ll get you next time,” Clarisse said and walked over to you close enough to where you could feel Clarisse’s breath on your face. That’s another thing you hated: Clarisse was taller than you - much taller. It gave Clarisse a better advantage of being more intimidating to the other campers. “A little unclaimed child like you shouldn't have bested me anyways.”

You would have punched her right then and there. Instead, you looked up to meet Clarisse’s eyes and placed your hand on her chest. You gently began to push her backwards until the taller girl’s back hit the locker room wall and made sure your face was directly underneath Clarisse’s.

“Aww, is the daughter of Ares salty that she lost in a fight to me?” You cooed and slowly lifted your finger underneath Clarisse’s jaw, bringing it slightly closer to yours.

You noticed the taller girl became more tense. A good thing, in your opinion. You watched as Clarisse’s eyes followed your every movement. An even better thing. A slight blush arose to Clarisse’s cheeks as you glanced at her, almost doe-eyed. Lips parted slightly, You slowly came closer to Clarisse’s face.

Clarisse wasn’t sure what to anticipate. Sure, you two hated each other, but sometimes, you would have these moments where you would flirt and tease her. Shamefully, Clarisse would do the same thing. It drove her crazy sometimes, which could explain her dislike for you at some points. She could never fully explain the energy between you and her. It was far too complicated beyond just pure hatred.

“I’ll see around, La Rue,” You whispered softly into her ear before walking out the locker room, leaving Clarisse to wonder what exactly just happened.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn #fem oc #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader

[sweetenerobert]

𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖

DAY FOUR OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

oberyn martell x male!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, MINORS DNI, modern au

prompt: cuckhold au + "i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together." "crawl to me"

summary: trying to think of ways to get back at your boyfriend for cheating on you; the result is you having sex with your nemesis, oberyn martell, in front of him

warnings: infidelity, cocky!oberyn, breeding kink, dirty talking, fingering, edging, mild praising kink, male masturbation, use of a vibrator, unprotected p in a, oral sex, spitting, handjob, cuckolding kink! (forced cuckholding ;)), no use of y/n

word count: 5.0k

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a/n: dividers by @saradika

a/n: I FORGOT ABOUT THIS! SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! SCHOOL TOOK OVER MY LIFE, consider this a Christmas gift, that's been in my drafts for months

The noises played in your head like a neverending record. The moans, the yelps. The squeaking, your boyfriend’s voice – all those noises played in your head. You came home early from work, noticed your boyfriend was also home, and didn’t think of it. That’s when you went upstairs and made a dreadful discovery. You saw your boyfriend fucking someone else – a woman, in your bed. And you hated yourself that you stayed at your door, knowing that it would make your stomach churn and twist with each moan escaping her lips.

You’d left right before your boyfriend had cum – not wanting to bear with that, you went and acted like you weren’t there. You had driven to your favorite coffee shop and ordered a coffee, and you’d been sitting next to the large floor-to-ceiling window ever since. You often kept glancing at other people and noticing groups of friends and couples, and you wanted to cry; seeing the couples reminded you a lot of you and your boyfriend until your gaze landed on Oberyn Martell.

You and Oberyn weren’t the closest bunch – you practically despised him, and he enjoyed making your life hell on earth at work. The both of you worked together, and you loved your job but despised Oberyn – and hated that stupid nickname he gave you: Dove.

You drove your gaze back to the window, hoping he didn’t see you. Your curiosity got the best of you as you slowly glanced toward Oberyn’s position, and you saw him glancing at you – quickly looking back at the window, shaking your leg, hoping he didn’t see you.

Once you heard a chair screech in front of you, you knew it was undeniably Oberyn sitting in front of you. You could feel his penetrable gaze traveling on you. This feeling of sadness turned into a feeling of annoyance, and you were ready to thrash at Oberyn.

You could hear an exhale escape Oberyn’s lips, and you just wanted to bash his skull in with the coffee mug in front of you. “Hey, Dove, fancy meeting you in a place like this.”

“Fuck off,” You spat.

Oberyn whistles. “Feisty, aren’t we, dove?”

“I’m not in the mood to play Oberyn. I’ve had a rough day,” You announced.

Obeyn crosses his leg to rest on his other leg as he studies you. He could see your face written with distress and sadness written all over it. Something had made you look the way you did, and he didn't know about it.

“What’s wrong, Dove?”

“You, you're bothering me when I want to be alone,” You exclaimed loudly. Noticing people had turned their heads, looking back at you and Oberyn.

“Please, just leave me alone.”

Oberyn had a scowl slowly coming on his face; his jaw had tightened. You’ve never seen Oberyn mad before — he’d enjoy making you annoyed, but you’ve never really been angry.

“What happened.” it came out more of a statement from Oberyn than a question — a command more than concern.

“And you care because?” You question, turning your head to him.

“Anything that makes my dove mad doesn't deserve to live.” His tone made a chill travel down your spine, and your heart stop for a split second. You didn't want to answer him. If anything, you wanted Oberyn to leave and forget he ever saw you here. But, you knew he was persistent, and he wouldn't go anytime soon unless you told him what happened.

“It’s been like ten minutes, and I’m already going to tell the person I hate the most my business,” You huff a breath as you rub your hand across your forehead.

You slide your hand from your forehead — connecting with your thigh, making a twahp sound on impact.

“I’ve been having a rough afternoon,” You shrug. “Came home to find the supposed love of my life, fucking some woman, and you know what sucks? I stayed.” Oberyn looks shocked by your statement but doesn’t show it. “Yeah, I stayed and listened to everything. Did I get off on it? Hell no. I hated everything. I left before it could get any worse.”

You intertwine your fingers — a knuckle placed on the tip of your nose. A sniffle escapes your nose, reminding yourself of the terrible events that happened minutes prior. Your tear ducts felt heavy, and your nose felt congested. A tear slid down your cheek as you placed your palms on the table, and your head felt heavy.

Glancing at the wooden table, you felt your head get picked up — seeing Oberyn's finger pick your head, and you could see the concern on his face; his thumb wipes the tear slowly crawling down your face.

"Dove, you shouldn't cry over someone like that. You shouldn't cry at all. You're too perfect.” “Oberyn smirks, caressing your cheek. You slowly push Oberyn’s hand away from you and glance at the window again, trying to avoid any eye contact with Oberyn.

“Dove, look at me.”

You shook your head like a stubborn child. “Dove, I need you to look at me so you can listen to what I will say.”

“I can listen to you like this.” You shrug.

Oberyn was getting annoyed now — which would’ve been the first time, only if you saw his face. Oberyn fixes his legs to be next to each other and outstretches one of them to reach you. His foot made contact with your crotch — rubbing his foot along the print in your pants. You yelped in retaliation — looking at Oberyn. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention, and now that I have it. I need to ask you something.” Oberyn states, placing his legs in their original position.

You cross your arms and huff a breath. “What?”

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he obviously can't get away with this.”

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” You question.

“I don't know, kick him out?” You shrug. “It's the only thing I can think of.”

“That’s all?” Oberyn questions.

“You can come up with the most creative insults you can throw at me, but when it comes to your scumbag boyfriend, you’re fucked?”

“Well, what do you have in mind, evil genius?”

“I’ve heard the best way to get over someone is to get under someone,” Oberyn smirks.

You shoot an eyebrow up and look at Oberyn with an annoyed look.

“Is that what you want me to do? Sleep with someone to get back at him? What is this, high school?”

“Not just anyone.”

“Then, who do you suggest?” You shrug and cross your arms.

Oberyn points at himself with a smug look on his face. You look at him with an annoyed look on your face. “Please tell me you’re kidding,” You spat.

“C’mom, I’m the best option.”

“Ethan, the homeless guy down the street, is a better option than you.”

“You know me—” Oberyn started.

“I despise you — and I hear the stories about you; you're a player — a playboy. I shouldn't get involved with someone like that.”

You’ve been aware of Oberyn’s “activities” for a while, ever since one of your Co-workers ranted about him to you — one of the many reasons you hate him. He was known for leaving people hanging after quote, “giving them the night of their life.” It frankly made you want to barf hearing anything involving having sex with Oberyn.

“Look, you’re one of the last people I want to hurt, but I want to see this scumbag crumble, knowing he lost someone as perfect as you.” Oberyn started.

You couldn't tell if he was messing with you or being genuinely serious, but all you knew was heat rose to your face.

“But, I promise. I won't hurt you. I want to see your ex suffer a little bit.”

“You promise this will work?” You question.

Oberyn places a hand over his heart. “Cross my heart, and hope to die.”

“Hopefully,” You scoff.

“But, you have to give me a week.”

“Give you a week for what?” You asked.

“Ah Ah Ah, it's a surprise,” Oberyn smirks.

“I hate surprises,” You grumble, crossing your arms.

“C’mom dove. You’ll like this one.”

“One week,” you firmly spoke. “That’s all I’m giving you.”

“Splendid, That’s all I need, dove,” Oberyn winks.

You essentially had to act like you still loved your ex-boyfriend: every talk, every hug, every kiss, and every interaction you had, you had to pretend like you cared. When, in reality, you wanted nothing to do with him.

And Oberyn was being more secretive than his usual outgoing personality. It often made your skin cold thinking about it. Oberyn was never closed off or reserved — always outgoing even when work needed to be accomplished; he always had time to talk or flirt with someone.

The end of the week had come faster than expected. It made you uneasy but also ready for anything. You heard a knock on your door while pacing — waiting for Oberyn. Your breathing became rushed and nervous.

As you opened the door, an exhale became longer than you expected. Seeing Oberyn wearing a long chestnut-colored lapel coat.

"Surprised to see me, dove?"

"Yes, I thought my "boyfriend" came home earlier than expected," You breathed.

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard that —" Oberyn started.

"Oberyn," You insisted.

"Kidding, can't take a joke, can you, dove?"

You step to the side to let Oberyn in. He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "I'm about to trust you with something so vulnerable about myself, so no, I can't take a joke."

Oberyn turns to look at you and rests his hands on your shoulders. "Dove, with me, you don't have to be afraid. Your body's a temple that I'm going to respect. Don't be scared."

"What do you think I'm going to do to you?" Oberyn questions, taking his hands off your shoulders and on his hips.

You took a breath, looked at the floor, and then up at Oberyn. "With him, he treated sex like a mission to complete — a side quest before returning to the main story. But with that girl, it was like she was something important, and I don't want to feel that way again." you find yourself looking back at the floor, a tear building in your tear duct.

Oberyn lifts your chin with his finger and plants his lips on top of yours. The kiss was soft, and the feeling of Oberyn's lips on yours made your body fire up — a feeling you've never felt with your boyfriend. Backing his head from yours — finger still on your chin, a smirk on his face. "Too stunned for words, dove?"

You push his hand off your chin. "No!" You exclaim, a wave of heat rushing to your face. "You don't have that power over me."

This rush of energy was coursing through your body like a drug; you yearned for more of it.

“So, where is the bedroom, sweetheart?” Oberyn asks.

You don't answer his question and walk towards your room. Opening your room door and seeing the bed made your anger boil — for the moment. Your boyfriend made it, and you find it as a sign that everything is normal — when, in reality, it isn't.

“Quaint, your boyfriend got a drawer?”

You point the nightstand next to the bed. Oberyn takes his jacket off and places it on the foot of the bed. He drops to his knees in front of the nightstand and opens the top drawer.

“What are you doing?” You question.

“All cheating assholes have something to hide. You aren't the least bit curious?”

“No, why would I be—” You start; as you thought about it, you somehow found yourself on your knees next to Oberyn. “I get top, you get bottom.” You state.

“I’m usually the top, but you know, there is a first time for everything.”

“I will punch you in the face if you keep these innuendos up.”

Oberyn laughs as you shove him. “Let’s get to searching.”

You open the top drawer, trying to find anything. After pushing things around, you found nothing worth explaining, closing the top drawer and looking at Oberyn. “Your turn,” You shrug.

Opening the bottom drawer, you back up and stand up to your feet, lying on the wall far away from him. Your eyes travel to see Oberyn bending down and his pants accentuating his rear end. You were tempted to whistle and compliment Oberyn.

“You like what you see, Dove?”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” You admit.

“It's a nice ass, thanks for noticing,” Oberyn smiles.

“It’s a little hard not to notice. Is that what girls from the office are after from you?” You question.

“Girls and guys,” Oberyn corrects. “I’m not a manwhore for just girls, Dove.”

“Well, I didn't know that,” You shrug.

“A lot of people don't know I swing for both teams.”

“You learn something new every day,” You mutter.

A thud made you look at Oberyn as he pulled a box out of the drawer. You question the image you see on the box as Oberyn just sneers. “Is that a—?”

“A vibrator? Yes, Dove. It is,” Oberyn nods.

“Why would he have—?”

“Oh shit. Do you think my ex’s used it on that girl?”

Oberyn shakes his head. “The tape’s still on it. Meaning: hasn't been opened, or he’s waiting to use it.”

Hearing that a vibrator hidden in your ex’s nightstand drawer hasn't been used was a huge relief for you in a certain way. Oberyn holds the box as he has an idea and then looks at you. “Should we use it?” Oberyn asks.

“What? I wouldn’t even know what to do with that.”

“Let me do all the work, Dove.”

“What would you even do?” You state, crossing your arms.

“That’s a surprise, but first,” Oberyn States, walking towards you. “I need you to get on your knees.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your eyes wanted to pop out of your head after hearing those four words. ‘get on your knees.’ Something about hearing those words made you want to fumble on your words but be mad at the same time.

“Make me,” You smirk.

Oberyn smashes his lips against yours in a hungry kiss — surprising you. Your teeth almost clash, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand slowly trails down your chest to your bulge. It felt hard under Oberyn’s palm — betraying your hatred for him and weakening your knees.

Your knees dented the wood under you as you broke the kiss. You see Oberyn smirking and walking to the foot of your bed — placing the box on the mattress. Seeing him slip his shoes off, hearing his belt unbuckle being undone, and seeing his pants slide off. You notice that Oberyn wasn't wearing any underwear. Your face would've exploded if you didn't contain yourself.

Seeing Oberyn's cock made you feel like you were in an out-of-body experience. It felt like you were shocked but didn't show it. Watching Oberyn sit at the edge of your bed, wags his pointer finger towards you — arching his finger towards him.

"Crawl to me," Oberyn commanded.

Your body had a mind as you placed your hands on the floor and slowly crawled toward Oberyn. A more giant smirk appeared on Oberyn's face as he saw you crawl closer to him. "Such a good boy, dove," Oberyn muttered.

Your face was close to Oberyn's shaft — covering your face. You wanted to make Oberyn shiver, make him feel a way you've never seen him before. Placing your tongue on his shaft, bringing your tongue to his tip and back to your mouth.

You watch Oberyn release a breath — sounding like a whistle. "Such a tease, dove."

You hoist yourself off your hands and look at Oberyn — winking at him before you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, quickly retracting away from him. Watching his hips buckle forward, you can't help but sneer. "Desperate for my mouth, Oberyn?"

"You know what you're doing, dove. It's written all over your face," Oberyn grumbled. "So why don't you do something about it," Your question sounded more of a sarcastic comment. Oberyn takes notice of that. Tracing his hand on your cheek — thumb trailing your bottom lip. "We're going to whip that attitude of yours into shape."

Holding your face, Oberyn leads your mouth towards his cock. A long exhale leaves his lips as your mouth goes down his shaft — agonizing slowly. You pick your head up as you bring your hand to the base of Oberyn’s cock and start stroking his dick as you bring your head up and down.

Oberyn leaned on his elbows and enjoyed the pleasure your mouth brought him. Apart from Oberyn being secretive for the past week. He hadn’t jerked off and slept with anyone, so the build-up of cum had been stored in his balls for the week, and Oberyn was ready to burst.

“Baby, you're so fucking perfect. I don't know what is wrong with that dumb ass.”

Removing your hands, you start to go down deeper on Oberyn’s cock as you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Clenching his teeth together, his moans escaping his throat — through his teeth like water.

“Baby— Ah— your mouth has a grip. I could cum fucking your face right here.”

“Why don't you then?” You ask, stroking his cock. You have a one-sided grin on your face. With inhuman speed, Oberyn picks you up to your feet — planting his lips on yours as your hands find the back of his neck. The hatred between you and Oberyn vanished in this moment. His hands explored your body as he touched your pants button — undoing them and sliding your pants past your feet. “Get on the bed, Dove.”

You complied with Oberyn. Your bare knees make contact with the mattress; you watch Oberyn grab the vibrator and take it out of its package. He held the device in his hand, hitting the button. Oberyn watched it vibrate in his hand.

“Asshole already put the batteries in. Bad for him, good for us.” Oberyn crawls after you, his face close to your cock. It twitches against his breath against it. “Has he made you cum before, dove?”

You reluctantly shake your head. "Like I said, there is a first time for everything," Oberyn snickers as he lowers the vibrator on your cock. Once you made contact, your eyes snapped shut, and you arched your back and fists towards you. Oberyn places a firm palm on your navel, forcing you to stop moving. "No squirming, dove." His firm demeanor sent shivers down your spine and made your cock twitch in anticipation of what was coming.

You heard your front door close, and your eyes snapped open. You attempted to move, but Obeyrn's hand on your navel prevented you from getting up. "Ah, Ah, Ah, dove. Where do you think you're going?" "He's back. We should stop." Oberyn looked at you with annoyance. "Do you think that asswipe cared whenever you came home?"

"But, Oberyn —"

"Let me make you feel a way you haven't experienced before."

Your breathing hitched as you looked at Oberyn. "How would you make me feel?" You gritted. "Happy, loved, wanted, cared for, everything someone as perfect as you should experience."

You calmed yourself — eyes drawn away from the door and closed. Feeling yourself grip the sheets — your moans intertwining together with your breathing. You felt as if you were about to cum, and that's when you heard your bedroom door squeal open.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” You heard Issac, your “boyfriend’s” bellowing voice. You kept your eyes shut so you didn't see Oberyn turn his head.

“Ah, just the guy I’ve been wanting to see. How are you doing?” Oberyn asks. In your head, you were laughing, but in reality, you were trying so hard not to cum right now.

“How am I doing?” Issac repeats. “How do you think I feel seeing some guy — pantsless next to my boyfriend’s dick?”

Hearing Issac emphasize that he’s your boyfriend made you want to punch him in the face; you would’ve — if your legs didn't feel like jelly. Spiritually Oberyn could feel your anger rising to your cock as it shifted for a split second.

“I don't know, dove, how should your cheating-asshole boyfriend feel knowing you're feeling more pleasure than ever before?” Oberyn smirked.

“Cheating? DOVE?” Issac exclaimed. You could see Issac’s eyes pop out in your head, and when you heard his tone.

“He -hould feel fucking dumb,” You gritted. You brought your arms resting above your head as you felt yourself about to cum any second.

“I should beat your ass for putting dumb thoughts in my boyfriend's head, man — and overall being anywhere near him.”

“But you’re not.”

“And why is that?” Issac asks, cocky.

“Because you’re going to go through my jacket and see the Manila folder and its contents inside, you're going to sit yourself down in that seat in the corner and watch me fuck the hell out of your boyfriend and cum deep inside him that I get him pregnant.”

You slowly open your eyes and see Oberyn smirking at you and Issac looking shell-shocked by what he just heard. And being honest, you were shocked yourself.

“I would do what he says. He can be pretty convincing,” You breathe. Oberyn smirks.

You turn your head — eyes strained from closing them. Issac rummages through Oberyn’s coat and sees the Manila folder he quietly dreaded. Sitting in the corner, he opened it, and the look on his face made it seem he got caught in a big lie. “Do you want to tell him, or should I? I don't mind either,” Oberyn shrugs.

“How did you get these?” Issac seethed.

“Okay,” Oberyn starts, ignoring the question. “Dove, what he’s looking at are photographs of himself and the girl he’s been cheating on you with — going on dates, going out, the whole nine yards.”

You wanted to scream, but the pleasure Oberyn delivered you on a silver platter brought you into overdrive, so you stayed mute.

“Fuck, Obeyrn. Your intense,” You spoke between clenched teeth.

“You close, baby?”

You nod. “I’m about to cum,” You exclaimed.

Your body wanted to give way, just to feel the immense pleasure you've yearned for.

Until Oberyn retracted the vibrator away from you, you looked like a deer in headlights while Oberyn had a shit-eating grin on his face. “W-what are you doing?”

Oberyn shrugs and looks at you. “Making you squirm.” His hands are firm against your inner thighs — feeling his nails press into you, his mouth slips onto your cock, and you arch your back in satisfaction. With Oberyn's mouth going slow on your cock, a rush came through your entire body. On the brink of cumming -- Oberyn cupping your balls in his hand, you wanted your cum to shoot down his throat.

Bearing your teeth, you grip the sheets again, glancing at Issac. He was pissed, but that made you want to cum even harder. "Hurt, doesn't it? Watching the love of your life enjoy someone else."

"Baby, it didn't mean--"

"Save it," You sucked in a breath. "Save it for someone who cares."

"Fuck, Oberyn. I'm close."

Oberyn takes his mouth off your cock; you watch your cock twitch on your navel, seeing precum leak from the tip. "Can I please cum, Oberyn? Please, it feels so good." You beg.

Oberyn shakes his head. "Not yet, baby.” Oberyn looks around and sees the look of despair written on Issac’s face — Oberyn’s cock twitching in retaliation. “Don’t be sad, Issac. Come on, sit right next to your boyfriend, and you’ll feel all better,” Oberyn smirked.

“Fuck off,” Issac spat.

Oberyn sucks in an inhale through his teeth and tsks at Issac. “Come on, don't be a poor sport; go ahead,” Oberyn nods to the open spot.

Issac reluctantly gets up and sits next to you. The look on his face read anger but was hidden by despair underneath it all. He was mad at you and Oberyn but angry and sad at himself.

“Come on, we don't have to do this. I mean, you already made your point with this whole “show” you’re putting on,” Issac argues.

“Oh, then I must haven't made it more explicit,” Oberyn nods.

Oberyn slides the tip of his cock slowly inside you. A sharp exhale. “Fuck, Oberyn. You could’ve warned me,” You groaned.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Your hands dig into Oberyn’s shoulders, making crescent moons etched onto his skin. His thrusts start slow and gradually pick up the pace. Your moans bounce off your bedroom walls. “You like hearing those moans, Issac? Having to hear them off someone else cock?” Oberyn breathes.

Issac can't help but stare at your face with each pump Oberyn was pushing into you. He knows that enjoying each thrust Oberyn delivers. Issac couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or sad at the moment.

“C’mon, you love that cock, don't you, Dove.” Oberyn grunts.

You nod, snapping your eyes shut again. “Fuck, Yes. I love it so much, You whine.

“Your cock is so fucking amazing.”

“That’s it, dove.”

“You see, Issac, this is how you treat art. You treat it with the love and respect it deserves.”

Hearing Oberyn refer to you as art made your cock dribble with precum. Inhaling a breath through your teeth. Oberyn’s hips quicken, and you can't help but snap your eyes open.

“Ugh! Fuck! Oberyn! You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn't if you said that to praise Oberyn or piss off Issav, but overall, you were stating the truth. You haven't felt this good during sex in such a long time. Oberyn loved the moans, the yelps, and the cries that escaped your mouth.

Oberyn’s hands slide on your cheek as he trails your bottom lip with his thumb. Looking into your eyes, he plants his lips onto yours as his thrusts start to slow down, and your nostrils breathe out air of relief.

As Oberyn backs up from your face, he looks up to Issac, seeing the sadness ride his face but then quickly to anger as he sees Oberyn’s face staring at him.

“Dove,” Oberyn breathes, backing his hips from you. “Turn around for me, I want to see that perfect ass.”

You happily obliged as you got on all fours, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. His cock pressed up into your ass, but you could also feel it lift off of you. Oberyn spits again, and this time you don't pay any attention to it until you feel Oberyn’s cock gently glide in. You take a long, deep breath in.

“Damn, dove, I can barely fit it in,” Oberyn growled. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Oberyn’s cock was slowly and brutally stretching you out, relishing every inch of your insides. Oberyn’s thrust began slowly as his thighs slammed into your ass, but his hips had other ideas. Oberyn’s gradual thrusts grew more intense, yet you were smitten with the whole thing. Your moans would not stay on your lips, and as you advanced, Oberyn’s cock would slip out of you with every clap.

“Fuck, you’re intense, Oberyn,” You breathe.

“You haven't seen nothing yet, dove.” Oberyn teases you by sliding his cock between your ass cheeks. "You want this dick... right, dove?" Oberyn sneers, looking at Issac.

“You want your worst enemy to get you pregnant?”

You nod your head, almost begging for Oberyn to fuck you. “Yes, I do.” Oberyn notices your begging tone as he shrugs his shoulders and slides his cock inside you.

Oberyn’s thrusts get hotter, more powerful, and more animalistic. It was like something that you never experienced in ever. Your enemy making you feel this way and letting you enjoy the moment with him was something you didn't know you needed.

"I can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together,” Oberyn grunts, glancing at Isaac shooting a wink.

"Damn, Oberyn. I'm about to cum,” You ignored Oberyn’s statement.

"Cum for me, dove," it sounded like a command more than a statement. Your cock throbs, and you exclaim your moans as stings of cum hit the sheets below you.

“Fuck, Dove. I’m going to cum,” Oberyn gritted his teeth. As Oberyn’s hips keep going back and forth into you, you grip the sheets under you as you hear Oberyn’s sudden groans and feel his cum swim inside you.

“See, that’s how you treat someone as amazing as dove here.”

“I see you enjoyed your little show so why don't we —”

“Get out,” You breathe.

“What?” Issac questions.

“I want you out of my house, all your shit gone by Thursday. I never want to see you again,” You state.

Issac can't believe what he’s hearing even though he was expecting it, as he expected a slap to the face. “Where— where will I go?”

“I don't fucking care, anywhere but here.”

Issac suddenly stands up, Manila folder in his hand, and storms out of your bedroom, slamming the door.

“You okay, dove?”

You nod. “I feel great. Thank you.”

Oberyn brings his palm to his chest and acts fake shocked. “Did you just say thank you to me?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” You snapped.

Even though you were both covered in sweat, Oberyn couldn't get enough of you when his lips connected with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his hand hooks under your arm onto your chest.

“You are the best sex I’ve ever had,” Oberyn admitted.

“That needs to be on a shirt; I need that in recording.”

“You’re suchan oddity.”

“You love it,” You smile.

“Yeah, I do.”

#oberyn martell x male reader #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #oberyn nymeros martell #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal #oberyn martell smut #pedro pascal smut #bottom male reader #pedro Pascal game of thrones

[hysteria-things]

I need a 3rd part with Nate soooo bad

SINFUL DESIRES (part three)

read part one here

read part two here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re going on a date this weekend! oh, and the date is your arch nemesis… so you say.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, friendly banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 704

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second anon i kid you not i wrote this in the afternoon and had it in my drafts to post later and when i saw that in my inbox i was gobsmacked LMAO

ANYWAY thank you sm and here is the awaited part three💕

the mirror placed on the wall next to your front door has your reflection on it as you fix up your hair and lipgloss.

you still cannot fathom that you’re going on a date with nathan doe.

well, he didn’t want to admit that it was a date. he said — and quote — “we should go get something to eat this weekend. dress fancy, too!”

the ringing of the doorbell echoes through the foyer, and you give one last peek at yourself before opening the door.

nate’s dressed in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shoes. he has a small bouquet of tulips in his hand, your favorite flowers ever since you were little.

he remembered.

his eyes scan your body that’s hugged with a sage green dress that has some poof to it, daisies embroidered on it. the sleeves are off the shoulders, and gold jewelry decorates your ears and neck. “well, well, well. look who came to their enemy’s doorstep holding presents. how thoughtful.”

“oh, shut up. i’m here to pick you up for our date.”

his hand never left your thigh as he drove to the restaurant, and you hate to admit that the feeling made you blush.

he opens the door for you, and you step out to admire the exterior. the lights around it are dim and the colors of the building are warm earthy colors. it’s definitely an italian restaurant. also your favorite ever since you were a kid.

he remembered that, too.

the hostess brings you guys to the table, and you get settled as the both of you look through the menus.

“you look very beautiful tonight,” he says, peeking at you from above the menu since they're bigger than your heads.

you hide your smile with a lip bite. “thank you. you look handsome.”

he chuckles, tapping your foot from under the table. the waiter comes over, places your orders, and takes the menus.

nate leans on the table to admire you, smiling as you start talking. “do you know what we should do after this?”

“what should we do, pretty?”

man. that nickname’s starting to grow on you.

you grin. “we should go to barnes and noble. i need more books.”

“you don’t need more books.” he rolls his eyes. “nerd alert.”

he lets out a sound of pain when you kick him under the table. “nate, please? for me?” you give him puppy dog eyes along with a fake pout.

he crosses his arms. “we’re not going to fucking barnes and noble.”

you went to barnes and noble. you drag nate behind you by the pinky, smiling when the whiff of books hits you.

you go over to the young adult section, skimming through them to find a book that’ll interest you.

he’s leaning against the bookshelf, staring in awe. he doesn’t understand how one can love books so much, but it’s okay because it’s you.

when you find a book you like, you go over to the counter. “hello!” you greet, placing the object on the counter.

the cashier scans it, tapping a few buttons on the screen in front of her. “that’ll be $21.00.”

you go to reach for your card, but hear a BEEP and look up, seeing nate’s card inserted into the machine. “you already paid for dinner.” you say lowly.

he nudges you with his arm, taking out his card. “do you have a pen by chance?” he asks the woman, using his hand to portray a writing motion.

she gives one to him, and he moves you so you’re behind him. he starts to write something in your book, and you jump to try to look over his shoulder. it’s no use.

“na—”

“thank you.” he smiles, giving the pen back and grabbing your book. “let’s go.”

when you guys get comfortable in the car, you sigh. “what’d you write in it?”

he stares deep into your eyes, taking the book off of his lap and handing it to you without saying another word.

you hesitantly open it, and a small message written in blue pen is revealed on the inside cover.

y/n,

will you officially be my girlfriend?

circle one:

yes or yes

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

#nate doe #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nathan doe #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #nate doe smut #nate doe fanfic #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #nate doe fluff #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More headcanons of the Nimona trio being domestic dorks

Whenever the trio gets sick of each other they’ll ask the person in the trio they’re not pissed at to handle them

It always goes something like this “Ambrosius come get your kid they won’t leave me alone-“ “No Nemesis come get your husband he’s being a stick in the mud”

Or “Bal go get your son from prison he got arrested again” “Oh so he’s my son today?” “Yes when he’s stupid enough to get caught he’s your son” 

If you're wondering why Nimona doesn't just escape its cause they find it hilarious when Bal has to come to bail them out at random points in the day

There are also times when they’re proud or happy and they’ll say things like “I’m gonna go get my daughter ice cream” “Since when is she just your daughter?” “Since right now when she helped me fix my prosthetic” 

“Hey boss where’s my Nemesis I heard he got in a fight today” “I thought he was my Nemesis” “Not when he puts three guys in the hospital he’s not” 

Bal is one of those people who sees something and says “Why would I buy that when I can just make it” AND HE DOES

Nimona has a bad habit of fucking up speakers so Bal just set up a sound system throughout the house 

If the trio weren’t such antisocial losers with three friends combined their parties would be amazing

He made Ambrosius a skincare cabinet just so he could put actual medicine in the medicine cabinet 

When Nimona moved in he asked them what their ideal room would look like 

She gave him a rough draft and he did all of it

They spend a week tearing that room apart so they could soundproof it so she could rock out without disturbing the boys

She has sick ass LED lights and she’ll change the colors depending on her mood 

Ambrosius and Bal helped her paint the walls the most obnoxious shade of neon pink And then they didn’t complain when she spray painted over said walls 

It’s worth it to see her visibly relax when she enters her room

This man has gutted and put back together and rearranged their little house so many times it’s unrecognizable 

I also feel like everyone in the trio is a crafty bitch

They all have a million little hobbies that have produced even more trinkets that fill up their whole house 

Their house is this weird combination of comfy yet chaotic and it's a minimalists nightmare 

Cleaning is also a nightmare but they wouldn't change it for anything 

Back when they were in the institute Ambrosius was a terrible cook -♾️/10 his cooking would put people in the hospital 

After the knighting ceremony was the first time he was living by himself and didn’t have access to free food so he taught himself how to cook

Honestly most people would think he would give up

I mean there are only so many times you set water on fire before you throw in the towel

But he's a stubborn brat and cooking took his mind off of everything so he stuck with it

One day Bal came home to the smell of cooking and he assumed it was Nimona 

He swears to this day he had a heart attack when he saw Ambrosius in front of the stove and Nimona comfortably sitting at the dinner table not helping at all

He promptly dragged Nimona out of there like a bomb just went off and warned him not to touch Ambrosius’ food

He told Bal “The more you call it a biohazard the more I want to eat it” 

So Bal used him like a test dummy 

When Nimona finally did try it they turned to Bal and complained that he lied 

Bal thought he was being pranked until he was forced by Nimona to try the food 

And it was good 

More than good I was fucking amazing 

He asked Ambrosius quite frankly “Who are you and what have you done with my husband” 

Ambrosius just rolled his eyes and told him to eat the food

Bal never gave up on finding out how and slowly but surely he started asking like a normal person

And Ambrosius never answered like a normal person

His answers would range from “A chef never reveals his secrets” (“that’s a magician love” “just zip it and eat your food”) to “I’m never telling you so suffer and finish this meal I lovingly cooked” (“is it still considered love if you knew I was gonna suffer?” “Yes” “…. Makes sense”)

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #I just know the trio are crafty bitches #Bal dabbles in a little bit of everything #Nimona likes to whittle #Ambrosius likes to crochet #He's made everyone he loves at least one stuffed animal

[sentfromwolves]

◈—⌈ SENTFROMWOLVES ⌋ writeblr introduction ²⁰²⁴

Hi everyone, and welcome to my writeblr 2024 introduction. My name is Eran (they/he & freshly thirty) and I've been on writeblr for awhile, so you might've seen me around. ( •̀ ω •́ ) This is my yearly post to introduce the projects I'll be working on this year, what I write, and who I am. I'll be keeping it short and sweet.

I'd love to meet more writers this year, so if you write any of the following, or just like these genres, or even just wanna shout about ocs together, come holler and I'll give you a follow!

◈ — sci-fi and fantasy of any kind! cozy fantasy, romantasy, epic fantasy, space opera? this is my bread and butter, and I love shouting about it from the rooftops with others! ◈ — found families, ot3s, complicated soulmates. I am almost always writing about soulmates who have either killed each other at least once in the past or are planning some sort of murder. Complicated relationships, especially found families that aren't all rainbows and butterflies, are right up my alley. ◈ — queer and trans protagonists, large queer casts! all of my wips feature trans/nonbinary leads, and I'm always looking for more queer writer friends to connect with! ◈ — hope at the end of the tunnel, but hell to get to. I write stories with hopeful endings, with the sun on the horizon, with the promise that something better might now at long last be on the way. I love seeing characters get put through hell, but I love it even more when they make it to the other side. (if you write tragedy though, please know I will still cry on your doorstep if you'll have me) ◈ — corruption arcs, redemption arcs, sometimes both! Deeply nuanced characters with messy attitudes, and even messier actions. I'm just as equally obsessed with cool worldbuilding as I am with character-driven things, and I will yell about ocs all day, and maybe draw them too >:3 ◈ — big, epic, and sweeping worldbuilding! I am a huge fan of delving into the worldbuilding aspect of my wips. I love building magic systems, cultures, geographies, and more. One of my 2024 projects is doing a worldbuilding experiment blog at some point. I am always down to clown over worldbuilding, whether to sound board or just holler together!

There's a lot more I could say here, but this post can only get so long! Σ(っ °Д °;)っ my dms are always open, and I will follow back most of the time! But just to get all of the basics outta the way:

◈—« here's a quick and dirty rundown of how I work! »—◈

➺ I interact and follow from @calamityeden, so if you see that username, it's just me.✌️I am most active on discord, and if we become friends, you're more than welcome to ask to add me there. ➺ I am open to being tagged in writeblr games! Just know that I am not online all the time, and might be slow to respond to them. 🐌 ➺ My ask box and DMs are open, just please be respectful. I love meeting new writers and talking about projects! I am happy to chat and make new friends. You're always welcome! 💌 ➺ This is a strictly 18+ writeblr. Please DNI with me if you are a minor and respect my boundaries.

🪄You can find my core tags here under my writing and my graphics, as well as writer reminders, game train and catharsis. (❁´◡`❁) And now onto the fun part! My 2024 main project line up!

I have my main four listed here that you'll probably hear me yelling about pretty consistently, but I've also got a lot of other projects rattling around in my brain. So if you're ever curious about a project that's not here, feel free to yell at me about it! >:3

Genre: Dark Urban Fantasy Standalone.

Status: First Draft Complete (117k)—Revising for beta round one.

There's a clock tattooed on Nemesis's wrist, and when it reaches midnight on his 21st birthday, it will kill him. It doesn't help that his mom is the one that cursed him, and the demon currently possessing his car ate her before Nemesis could convince her to break the damned thing. Thankfully, Judge came prepared with an alternative: help him break into a mythical living city and steal its heart, and in return, he'll shatter Nemesis's curse for free. Accompanied by a three-headed hellhound, a haunted holy sword, and an excommunicated exorcist, Judge and Nemesis set their sights on an impossible heist. But the closer Nemesis gets to the heart, the more he begins to realize that he isn't the only one under a curse. And if he doesn't find a way to break Judge's soon, his own life will be forfeit as well.

Genre: Space Opera

Status: 2024 zero drafting from scratch

Two hundred years ago, humanity expanded to the stars only to find a cosmos filled with graves. But then their children began displaying the strange ability to commune with the alien ruins scattered across the planets, waking ancient, extrasolar mecha from their sleep, and turned the struggling colonies of space explorers into the fledgling galactic nation of Sol Galatea.  Now, Wren Akane is on the run from the whole galaxy, wanted for the strange alien powers throbbing through his veins. His luck runs out when he accidentally awakens an ancient Relic in the desert of his planet, only to be embedded with the memories of its last pilot and the revelation that the war that littered the cosmos with graves is far from over. But no one believes Wren when he tells them that continuing to wake the Relics will bring the hostile alien empire that destroyed them back to Sol Galatea’s doorstep. Only Wren’s rival pilot, Marek Khalid, seems interested in a word Wren has to say. But Marek doesn’t want to save Sol Galatea. He has big plans for what to do when the aliens arrive, a rebellion to lead, and if Wren isn’t on his side, he’s in his way. With time running out, Wren must soon decide how far he’s willing to go to save the people that never tried to save him—or if Marek is right, and he should let the stars burn instead.

Genre: Adult Romantasy

Status: First Draft (1k/100k)

Once a year, Celestials from all across the Lumina Kingdom gather together for Eventide, the season of courtship, hoping to win the hand of the most eligible star at court. Sirius knows the game they play all too well: by day, he is the forgettable, miserable daughter of the Lumina Family, least of his seven siblings and wanted only for the royal blood running through his veins.  By night, however, Sirius is the Starweaver—the mysterious dressmaker taking the kingdom by storm. Everyone wants to know the identity of the one responsible for elaborate outfits that turn even the quietest Celestial in the room into the star of the show, outshining even Sirius’s luminous sibling, Diana. When the infamous King Beyond Midnight arrives with the intent to wed Diana, Sirius finds his secret in jeopardy when the condition for their hand in marriage is a simple challenge: reveal the Starweaver's true identity. There’s no outsmarting Octavian for long, and soon, Sirius will have to make a choice: give up on his passion and stay hidden forever, or risk everything to stay true to who he really is.

Genre: Second World Urban Fantasy

Status: Outlining

Something changes the day that Nakano Touya returns to the crumbling city of Soma Lux. It starts with voices in the radio static, blurry figures caught on camera, always out of focus. When a monster crawls out of Touya's television screen and eats him, the last thing he expects is to find a strange, shadowy otherworld lurking on the other side. But his biggest problem isn't the monsters of the otherworld that want to eat him, or the talking cat that saved him, now living in his apartment without a care in sight. Soma Lux is experiencing a strange new epidemic—one that Touya is completely unaffected by. But when his half-sister falls comatose, Touya knows he has to get to the bottom of it all to save her—and find out why he's the only one immune. Accompanied by his jaded ex-boyfriend, Touya’s nosy classmates, a part-time fortune teller, and a cantankerous old hag, Touya dives into the murky underbelly of Soma Lux, where the realities have begun to bleed together between his world and the next. 

That's all for now! >:3 Here's to an amazing 2024! (also my actual blog is a mess right now please do not mind it ksjndfskfn)

#writeblr intro #writing community #writeblr #my writing #my graphics #hey all hehe i just decided i'll probs do a fresh one of these every year to make sure i can pin an accurate wip list to the top #especially as i change wips from year to year! #i mostly am on discord #but i want to be able to meet new writer friends here too especially as the community grows! #seriously feel free to holler anytime #i'm usually around somewhere :3

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Hello could you do more fics about ballister head injury?(love your worke❤️)

THIS RESPAWNED IN MY DRAFTS HOLY SHIT

I'm so glad you love my work thank you so much for this ask 🩷 sorry it took so long but as I had said in another post, my Tumblr ate it for breakfast and it was disappeared from my askbox and drafts. But it reappeared!!! Please enjoy your very late drabble request <3

Cw: seizures, brain injury

Ballister leaned against Ambrosius, closing his eyes. “You sleepy, Bal?”

“Mhm.” Ballister rubbed his eyes. “I couldn't get to sleep last night. Kept having headaches and weird dreams.”

“That's no good, babe. Try to take it easy today. Do you think it's your head?”

“He just said it was his head, duh.” Nimona cut in. She'd been back for the past couple months, and she and Ambrosius were still getting used to each other. Ballister chuckled. “It's probably fine.” Ambrosius made a worried face.

Eight months ago, when Ballister was on the run, he'd suffered considerable head trauma, several times, one after another after another. The whole thing left Ballister with considerable brain damage in the frontal and temporal lobes especially. It was especially significant in the first few weeks after everything happened, when he was often unsteady on his feet, spoke with slurred speech, struggled with short term memory, understanding rapid or unclear speech, and extreme emotional outbursts where he would be extremely afraid, sad, angry, or happy without apparent cause. He'd also started having seizures at that time. Ambrosius learned to deal with them, but he always hoped each one would be Ballister's last. The doctor said they'd stop eventually, but they never knew when eventually would come.

Thankfully, since then, his brain had healed tremendously. Still, Ambrosius couldn't help but worry when Ballister had anything going on with his head.

“Alright, well, just be careful, okay? Don't strain yourself.” He kissed Ballister's cheek.

Nimona cackled. “Come on, Nemesis. I don't think the boss is gonna let some dumb headache slow him down! He's not made of glass, you know. He's ten percent solid steel and a hundred percent badass!”

“My arm makes up five percent of my weight, Nimona, also it's made of titanium.” Ballister smiled at her.

“See? Even cooler.” She returned to what she was doing and Ambrosius sighed. Maybe he was being a little overly anxious.

But as the day went on, Ballister seemed off. Foggy, distracted, a little bit uncharacteristically emotional or snippy sometimes. Even Nimona noticed, Ambrosius could see the puzzlement in her face even if she said nothing. It all came to a head later that day, they were at a park and they were noticed by members of the public, who started their usual barrage, asking frankly triggering questions and requesting photographs and signatures.

Ambrosius was used to all that, but while Ballister was somewhat accustomed to it, it always stressed him out. Ambrosius managed to fish his lover and Nimona away from the paparazzi and back to the safety of their vehicle.

“You guys alright?” Ambrosius started it up, flying through the airways. Ballister didn't answer, he glanced over. “Bal?”

His lover looked distant, blinking fast, looking around in a haze. “Do you, lemon?”

“What?” Oh shit. “Nimona, take his arm off!” Ambrosius began landing the vehicle in a safe place.

“What?” She looked quizzically from the backseat.

“Now! He's having a seizure, the prosthetic is wired to his nerves and muscle, the electrical signals can make it go nuts!”

Ballister knew a seizure was coming when he tasted lemon out of nowhere. They needed to get it together quickly, he was already having trouble speaking.

Quickly Nimona reached forward and disconnected the arm, and not a moment too soon. Ballister’s face twisted and his head began to jerk, along with his right leg, a rhythmic back and forth motion. Once Ambrosius was safely parked, he grabbed the blanket from the back seat and cushioned Ballister's head, and started a timer on his phone. A car was not the ideal place for this to happen, he wasn't completely sure of the protocol. Ballister was at least buckled, so he couldn't collapse into the dashboard. “It's okay, Bal.” He whispered softly. Everything will be okay.”

Nimona's eyes were wide with terror. After sixty-two seconds, Ballister went still, his eyes blearily gazing in front of him, foggy. Ambrosius stroked his hair. “It's over, love. It's over. You're okay.”

Nimona swallowed. “What happened to him?”

Ambrosius exited the vehicle and came around to open Ballister's door so he could more closely check up on him. He unbuckled him and helped him out of the car, supporting most of his weight. “Nimona, let me lay him in the back, he needs to lay on his side.”

Nimona moved out of the way. “What happened to him?”

Once Ballister was laid safely in a recovery position, Ambrosius sat beside the car and stroked his hair. “He had a seizure.”

“A seizure? I thought you had to be born with those. I've never seen him do this before.”

“He hit his head, a lot, after–” Ambrosius swallowed. “After what I did to him. It all added up, and left enough damage that this happens sometimes. Eventually it's supposed to go away, but we have no idea when. He's okay, he just won't be able to talk for a few minutes. Will you sit back here with him? Just make sure he's breathing okay, and try to comfort him while I drive home. Sometimes he gets a little emotional. You can give his arm back, too.” He swallowed. He wanted to comfort Ballister, but he needed to get them home safely. Ballister could recover better at home.

Nimona didn't seem to know what to do, but for once, she didn't argue. Ambrosius drove home hearing her speak softer than he ever had, in a reassuring voice.

When they got home, they managed to assist Ballister inside. He could now understand speech and get out a word here and there, but he was mostly disoriented and exhausted. Once Ambrosius checked that his breathing was normal, and he didn't have any severe bites in his mouth, he tucked him into their bed and let him rest, setting a timer to wake him up and check on him.

Nimona looked gaunt, she paced the living room.

“Aren't you a thousand years old? I thought you'd be used to things like seizures. This wasn't a bad one, thankfully. He's okay, you don't have to worry.” Ambrosius was a hypocrite. He was extremely worried.

She shook her head. “Not that, I mean, I've seen them before, they're normal, I've known thousands of people– but I didn't realize— I didn't realize someone could hurt their head so easily.” She whispered.

“What do you mean?”

She swallowed. “He got hit in the face with a rock when the Institute blew up. And I dragged him home. And I didn't even try to make sure he didn't hit his head! He was getting smacked into curbs left and right and– and I thought it was funny!” She rubbed her face. “I haven't been close with a human in so long, I forgot how fragile they were, how even something like that– it's partially my fault, don't you get it? I was careless and he hit his head and now he's suffering because of me.”

Ambrosius swallowed. Ballister told him about how Nimona said he'd hit his head on the curb when she took him home, and yes, it had contributed to several in a series of head injuries. He sat on the couch. “Nimona, it's not your fault. I knew about that. The doctor said the concussions hadn't helped, but most of the damage was from the debris, from Todd beating him up, and from when he fell through the stadium floor. It's just– how it is.”

Nimona sat on the couch beside him and sniffed. “You don't understand. I forgot how easily humans can be hurt. How easily they can die.”

“Oh…” Ambrosius looked down. “Well, for what it's worth, I don't think he'd be here at all if it wasn't for you. Humans are weak, but Ballister is strong. He's kind, resilient, and forgiving– I know that better than anyone. He's gonna be fine. Don't beat yourself up.”

Nimona sniffed and smiled at him. “Thanks, nemesis.”

#nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #ballister boldheart #ballister x ambrosius #nimona 2023 #nimona fanfic #yywihh fics #fic request

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

4k words in and i still feel like i’ve written absolutely nothing of serious value for the next chapter. which is... factually untrue i don’t know why my brain is doing this

#the nemesis speaks #maybe it's bc i still sorta consider all this a first draft? like i know internally im probably not Keeping any of this #idk #IM SO IMPATIENT TO GET TO CHAPTER 8 IS THE THING #things start Happening #theres a couple of scenes ive been waiting on since ch5 #im also still mildly sick which isnt helping my writing brain #ok i gotta go to bed

[downstarr]

The Consort (complete)

The Consort (11364 words) by downstar Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Balin (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Consort Bilbo Baggins, POV Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Misunderstandings, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Courting, Domestic Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Cultural Differences, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Gentleness Series: Part 2 of The Quiet Moments - Bilbo and Thorin Summary: After a confession of their feelings, Bilbo returns to Erebor with Thorin. The great city is in the process of rebuilding, and Thorin is settling into his role as his king. Word is getting around that their king has asked an outsider - a hobbit! - to be his consort. Can their burgeoning relationship survive the pressures of kingship and cultural misunderstandings? --- This fic carries on in continuity from my one-shot The King and the Hobbit. It's part of a series of one-shots or short pieces that exist within the same continuity and in the same timeline. Check the previous fic in this collection for the story of how the two of them got together.

Excerpt:

One evening, a few weeks into his stay in Erebor, Bilbo sat hunched over a heavy metal desk, perched high on a pair of cushions, his hairy feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He’d been hard at work for hours, drafting what would one day become the first chapter of their fated quest. 

Thorin approached him from behind and set his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to sleep. Join me when you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account. Your candlelight does not bother me.” 

“Mhmm, be there soon,” replied Bilbo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words of the sentence he was trying to get just right. “Ah, Thorin, Thorin…” he looked up suddenly and swiveled around.

Thorin had just finished ducking out of his embroidered tunic. The flickering light of the roaring hearth set into the wall and the dim glow of the sunstones huddled up against Bilbo’s plants tossed flattering shadows across the thick muscle of his back. It also highlighted the pure white scar tissue rimmed in silver where Azog’s blade had sliced him through. Elvish medicine had saved his life, but he would always bear the mark of his nemesis and feel the wound echoed in the movement of his body. 

Thorin looked over his shoulder and lifted a brow when Bilbo called his name. “Mhmm?”

Bilbo found himself staring. He still wasn’t used to seeing the dwarven king in a state of undress, especially in so casual and intimate a moment. A physique such as Thorin’s was unknown among hobbits, which went some of the way towards explaining why Bilbo had never found a lover among his own kind. There was much more there, of course, but the physical nature of his attraction had caught him off-guard more than once since he’d found the courage to acknowledge it. 

Thorin noticed Bilbo’s wandering gaze and turned around. He made a bit of a cheeky show of leaning up against the wall next to the hearth, as if aware that the firelight did much to flatter his body. 

Bilbo swallowed, twitched his nose and tap-tapped his pen against a spare bit of paper he used to blot the ink. “Do you…” he cleared his throat, “...do you think there’s someone who could teach me Khuzdul? I should like to add some dwarvish script to my book. I’ve also heard that Smaug left the archive virtually untouched and there are many wonderful and ancient tomes that are still in good condition. But I can’t read any of them. And that…” he rapped his pen again, “... is a speeeeecial kind of torture.”

Thorin was a stoic man, capable of very subtle expressions. But the delight at hearing Bilbo’s request was immediate and obvious. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as warm as hearthfire. He crossed the great chamber to Bilbo’s side and reached out to cup his cheek. “I will send for a scholar from the Iron Hills to be your tutor. You will have the advantage of learning under a master of languages.” 

“That’s really not necessary. I can muddle along with some references and a helper. I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble,” Bilbo replied. He felt the tips of his ears burn red, and he was suddenly grateful for the mess of his hair and the low shimmer of light. 

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the hobbit #bagginshield #the hobbit bilbo #thorin fic #fic rec #ao3 writer #thorin x bilbo #bilbo baggins #bilbo x thorin #thilbo #bagginshield fic #thilbo fic #thilbo fanfic #bagginshield fanfic #thorin/bilbo #bilbo/thorin #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #thehobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic

[directdogman]

Any wacky facts about Tango or Abel?! I love them sm

Tango, I get. But, ABEL???

There's a few Tango facts I have in my head that I'd love to share, but I'm saving those. I fuckin LOVE Tango and you can bet he'll have more scenes in future DT content :) To give one piece of information I like about Tango: He genuinely cares about Mayor Mingus, despite how poorly she treats her underlings. He's 100% aware of her fucked up past and shows her immense compassion and respect. Mingus does genuinely like Tango, but a large part of why she doesn't have the balls to show it is because Tango so obviously feels bad for her and as I showed in that DT short story I wrote, Mingus cannot STAND being pitied at all. It evokes aggression in her because she has vulnerability issues.

Tango has a large well of natural empathy, though that makes it easy to get through his abnormally high natural confidence (as seen from his scene with Gingi, if you imply that he's been unfair/cruel to someone else, he breaks down at the thought of it!)

Abel, ho boy. Some audience members no doubt know that, like Tango, Abel is a DSaF hold-over, but the funny thing is: I actually had a draft for a short DSaF spin-off game with both in it. Takes place at the factory, main character is Harry, Tango was an npc, Abel was the villain of the game and hyped up somewhat before you saw him. I don't know where my paper notes for that short game are (I devised it while working on DSaF 3, never ended up doing anything with it), but the whole game was about fleshing out Abel a bit more and finally showing the audience who Joe was (who is Abel's arch-nemesis in DSaF lore and Harry's mentor.)

Basically amounted to more or less what his DT appearance showed - that Abel is self important but ultimately a coward with deep-seated issues that come from a deep self-hatred that he feeds while also refusing to discuss with anyone else. Abel is not a great guy, but there's no one he's worse to than himself. I think it's a gigantic reason Mayor Mingus keeps him around, despite him having nothing really going for him as a partner in crime - she knows he won't try to discuss her personal shit because she knows exactly what to say to Abel if he annoys her deeply.

...so yes, in a sense, Tango/Abel are basically opposite sides of the same coin. One has a huge amount of natural empathy and positivity and the other is extremely negative and engaged in constant self loathing... and ironically, both natures, though opposite, keep the characters firmly in Mingus' orbit, with Tango genuinely concerned for Mingus' character (and staying because he cares) and Abel being easy for Mingus to control.

[this-acuteneurosis]

I kind of want to get you started on mind tricks. cause like weak minded to strong minded dynamic and the blur away, but also the sith back in the day were for SURE a Caste system of force sensitive rulers and non force sensitives, and the jedi were their ENEMY off and on for thousands of years, cultural bleed through and dynamics of their own power systems but Ben we are not the droids you are looking for go away so I dont have to kill you, versus Qui hey I want this thing trade it for me.

Alright, Oct anon, it's been a while, but I have not forgotten you definitely forgot this ask in my drafts for who even knows how many months but it's found again, whoo!

It's taken me a while to get this together partly to try and arrange my thoughts in a logical order but also...

Guys, I really, really care about the use of agency in stories. Like, I've ranted about it in relation to droids, I've explained some of my problems with it in the context of the thematic changes between the OT and the PT, I stew over it constantly in my brain, it's a central theme of many of my own stories (including DLB).

I really don't like mind control, and not just in Star Wars.

Now, just because I don't like a thing doesn't mean it doesn't have a place in story telling. As a device, mind control/manipulation can be useful or important to a plot. To a theme. Overcoming it can be powerful or cool (Ella Enchanted-I prefer the novel personally, Tanjiro in Demon Slayer: Mugen Train), watching someone succumb to it can be agonizing (Frodo in Return of the King, anyone? Princess Euphemia in Code Geass?).

So, what is the point of Mind Tricks (and that naming choice, "trick," making it sound almost...harmless) in the Star Wars story, and maybe in the universe?

I feel like in its initial reveal, the mind trick was supposed to a) convey how "magical" Jedi were and b) get the plot from point A to B. Obi-Wan waves his hand, someone believes something hideously untrue, move along move along, don't think about it too hard.

Like, literally, audience, please. Don't.

Luke uses it in RotJ for pretty much the same reason. To convery a) Luke is well on his way to being a "magical" Jedi now (oh but wait, there's more character growth he needs!), and b) Luke needs to get into Jabba's palace and why would they let him in? Because he says so, so we will take him to Jabba now. Move along, move along.

I don't like the implications of this power existing, and as an adult who has been in situation where I have to report to higher powers, the disregard of the consequences of these things are a bit darker if I look too closely, but like...move along, I guess. It's fine as long as we're only using these powers on space nazis and slavers. Right?

Except then we get more movies. And cartoons. It's fine if Obi-Wan mind controls a person into not smoking, right? Smoking is Bad and Obi-Wan is Good.

Only.

Only...

Who taught Obi-Wan to use mind tricks?

Ah yes, my old nemesis.

To all you Qui-Gon fans out there, you may wanna leave. This analysis is probably not for you.

So like, Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon "I'm friends with the current Chancellor and thus an obvious, notable representative of the Jedi Order but I don't get along with my higher ups" Jinn. The thing you have to understand about my opinion of him is that, as a young, first time watcher of TPM, I liked him. He was funny, irreverent, direct. He was wise, or at least seemed to know things no one else did. He was a maverick, ready to go against all orders and advice for what he knew was right. And everyone around him was just stuffy and uninformed.

And to be fair, he wasn't wrong about everything. He's set up to be sympathetic. He's trying to treat with the gungans and they won't listen? Well he and Obi-Wan are right, the Trade Federation does go for the gungans. The Order says there are no Sith? Oops, wrong on that one. The Council makes the ambiguous assertion Anakin is "too old" to train. We've seen the OT. We know "too old" is nonsense.

But like, what does Qui-Gon do when he's thwarted?

He takes away people's agency.

Oh, you don't want to help us, Boss Nass, political leader? Cool, well I'm gonna undermine you in front of your entire court and you're gonna give us a whole ship (that we won't return) to help us defend a people you've been in an active war with for centuries. Oh, my currency doesn't work on this planet? I think it will mister small time junk dealer with a gambling problem (jokes on you for that one, sir).

This to me is a huge red flag in a story that is about literal slaves. I know people will defend the above examples. It was necessary. There were lives at stake.

You wanna know who would have suffered if Qui-Gon had been able to con Watto out of that part?

Anakin and Shmi.

Worthless (or event mostly worthless) currency on a planet where you have to buy water is literal death under the right circumstances. And who do you think Watto's going to reduce rations on. He's got cash flow problems? What's the quickest way for him to make back what he just lost? I'll give you a hint, he gambles on them later in the exact same movie.

So like, well before we get to "weak minded" or anything dubious like that, there's this awkward question of, "Why are the good guys always using powers to make people do things? And not worried about the consequences?"

And like, if we go back to simple story narratives, and trying to move things from point A to point B, that's fine I guess. I enjoy the OT. I'll move along.

But if you ask me to stop and think about it.

Well...

#my soapbox meta #agency #this is without even touching on things like #Anakin accidentally-on purpose?-mind tricking Padmé theories #or like #dubious racial/class implications #teaching this skill to ~~~children~~~ #so many other things

[geddy-leesbian]

hey look it's all my Serrennedy fic (note that I did not come up with tags for the AU's until making this post, meaning I have to go back to retroactively tag the posts I've made, which is going to take a while because tumblr's search is hot garbage.)

and also due to tumblr's search being garbage, searching my blog for my tags won't give you shit, but if you click to search all of tumblr instead, every post will show up. idk man, that's just how it is.

RE2 AU

started as a one-shot and then spiraled into a whole RE2 AU. the only thing I've written where things pretty much go right for them 💖 Leon isn't a government agent, Luis is a stay at home dad, and Claire and Luis lovingly bully Leon together.

tag: 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

How Do You Talk To Girls? (2/3 chapters posted)

❝Don Juan, eh? Always thought of myself as more of a Don Quixote, but if the shoe fits… How about we try some practice anyway? I can talk to you like I'd talk to a girl, give you a first-hand demonstration.❞ OR Leon tries to learn how to pick up women from Luis, and instead has a bisexual awakening and picks up Luis. Task Failed Successfully.

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑰𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒅” (unpublished WIP)

Claire and Luis are getting married.

Something A Little More Plain

Not in the same continuity as the other two fics, but it is an RE2 AU, so I'm putting it here. Just really soft Luis being a dad to twins content. The only thing I've written about them that is just fluff and no angst.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Signals // Childhood Friend AU

playlist

tag: 【𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤.】

𝑇𝘩𝜀 𝛥𝜋𝛼𝑙𝜎𝑔 𝐾𝜄𝜕 (1988)

you move me, you move me. with your buildings and your eyes, autumn woods and winter skies. you call me, you call me.

»»————-💙————-««

somewhere out of a memory, of lighted streets on quiet nights… (1988)

»»————-💙————-««

ΠⴹⰞ Ⱎ⎕ᒥᒪᗪ ᎷᗅΠ (1988-2004)

he's old enough to know what’s right, but young enough not to choose it.

»»————-💙————-««

Digital Man // Open Secrets (2004) (1/? chapters posted)

Well I guess we all have these feelings we can’t leave unreconciled. Some of them burned on our ceilings, some of them learned as a child.

The things that we’re concealing will never let us grow. Time will do its healing, you’ve got to let it go.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

BU2B (aka Leon Fucking Dies)

(2/3 chapters posted)

❝That Agent Kennedy is proving to be quite a thorn in my side, much like you. I need him to live long enough for him to appreciate his gift and go home and begin to spread it to the rest of the world, but he's starting to cause a little too much trouble. But still, it would be a shame to have to kill him. Such a 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 it would be. If only there was some distraction to keep him occupied and out of trouble… You 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 him, don't you?❞ ❝This isn't about him. Say whatever you want about 𝘮𝘦, but keep 𝘩𝘪𝘴 name out of your mouth.❞ ❝But you'll want to hear this: He's quite fond of you too. He doesn't want to admit it, but I've been in his head. He likes it when you tease him. He 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘴 you. You could send him on wild goose chases over and over, and he'd just keep following you, until time ran out.❞

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 (𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆)

My very first Serrennedy fic,,, someday there will be a second chapter, but I have zero idea of when because I've been fighting demons tbh (by demons I mean various rough drafts because I can't figure out what the fuck to do with it. The ideas are there,,,,, but the execution is not 🫠)

Luis thinks he's a shitty person. Leon disagrees.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Other random stuff kicking around in my drafts (and feel free to ask about any of these because I love talking about them):

AU where Luis sabotages the Nemesis Project, gets caught, and sent to Rockfort Island.

Alfred Ashford notices that Luis was a child prodigy and thinks that's neat because he's a weirdo and Alexia was a child prodigy. So instead of being executed, Luis is forced to be his friend until Alexia wakes up from her cryo stasis thing. (And being his friend is not a good time, because he's a weirdo and threatens to get his sniper rifle and hunt down Luis for sport a lot.) Luis gets out when Claire does, and goes back to Valdelobos after to hide from Umbrella, meaning RE4 will still happen, although slightly different. Luis is much colder and very hesitant to help Leon, because trying to do the right thing previously got him sent to a concentration camp.

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DON'T WALK AWAY

Songfic. While Leon and Ashley are waiting on a helicopter to come pick them up post-RE4, Luis tries to quietly slip away, because he thinks he's a shitty person who doesn't deserve to have Leon. Leon notices him trying to leave and says fuck that and argues with him, insisting that he will come with Leon.

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Don't have a title yet, but a little thing where Leon gets a call from Chris right after he gets back from Spain. Chris says the BSAA has been conducting their own investigation into what happened, and they found someone ex-Umbrella they had been trying to track down for years severely injured, but alive while searching the place, who claims to know Leon and that Leon would vouch that he's a good person now.

#⛓𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼⛓ #<- my general Luis Serra brain rot tag used for anything unrelated to a specific fic #【𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤.】 #𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 #<- general Serrennedy as dads tag #𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆. #resident evil fanfiction #serrennedy #guess I should tag this as edits too since I did put moodboards in #my edits #serennedy

[snicketstrange]

"The TSS secret letter explained" theory

So, after many years, I can finally face my greatest nemesis again. The TSS secret letter. I think it is very appropriate to talk about it again here. There were many theories, and there were many discussions. And I think I found the best way to explain it. Let me copy the letter in full.

"My dear sister, I am taking a great risk in hiding a letter to you inside one of my books, but I am certain that even the most melancholy and well-read people in the world have found my account of the lives of the three Baudelaire children even more wretched than I had promised, and so this book will stay on the shelves of libraries, utterly ignored, waiting for you to open it and find this message. As an additional precaution, I placed a warning that the rest of this chapter contains a description of the Baudelaires’ miserable journey up the Vertical Flame Diversion, so anyone who has the courage to read such a description is probably brave enough to read my letter to you. I have at last learned the whereabouts of the evidence that will exonerate me, a phrase which here means “prove to the authorities that it is Count Olaf, and not me, who has started so many fires.” Your suggestion, so many years ago at that picnic, that a tea set would be a handy place to hide anything important and small in the event of a dark day, has turned out to be correct. (Incidentally, your other picnic suggestion, that a simple combination of sliced mango, black beans, and chopped celery mixed with black pepper, lime juice, and olive oil would make a delicious chilled salad also turned out to be correct.) I am on my way now to the Valley of Four Drafts, in order to continue my research on the Baudelaire case. I hope also to retrieve the aforementioned evidence at last. It is too late to restore my happiness, of course, but at least I can clear my name. From the site of V.F.D. headquarters, I will head straight for the Hotel Denouement. I should arrive by—well, it wouldn’t be wise to type the date, but it should be easy for you to remember Beatrice’s birthday. Meet me at the hotel. Try to get us a room without ugly curtains. With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket

P.S. If you substitute the chopped celery with hearts of palm, it is equally delicious."

Note again it:

1 - "My dear sister, I am taking a great risk in hiding a letter to you inside one of my books, but I am certain that even the most melancholy and well-read people in the world have found my account of the lives of the three Baudelaire children even more wretched than I had promised, and so this book will stay on the shelves of libraries, utterly ignored, waiting for you to open it and find this message."

Considerations: When Lemony wrote this letter, Kit was already dead. And Lemony probably knew it. As I already explained, Lemony published all his books over many years, even though he started writing TBB during the main events described in Asoue, he only managed to publish TBB a few years later, and after that each book took time for research and preparation of the manuscript, and the period of time between the publication of TRR and TMM was particularly long, what I call a great hiatus. This great hiatus lasted for many years. So Kit was certainly already dead when this letter was written. Lemony was doing some event confirmation research as he had access to the Baudelaires' writings which is where he discovered events that only the Baudelaires could know about from private conversations to what happened in the caravan in TSS (which Lemony explicitly did not find to be able to deduce what happened inside). This whole concept is very important to asoue, and it is clear that this was the author's intention in several parts of the story. So instead of undoing an important component to the story (the fact that Lemony is researching the past from his point of view while writing asoue) it is more logical to believe that the true recipient of the letter is not Kit Snicket, but rather someone who assumed her identity. After all, just like Count Olaf, Kit died on a desert island with few witnesses and her death was simply not a fact known to the general public until then. 

It is significant that Lemony explicitly spent several weeks searching for the caravan. It is already evident that the moment of search for the caravan cannot be the same moment that the main events of asoue are unfolding. Some people say that this letter was written during the main events of Asoue, but in this excerpt Lemony explicitly quotes what he had just written. So he's writing the letter right after writing about the Baudelaires' climb to the VFD base. And he could only have written this after having written everything he had written before. Lemony also hopes that the book will be published and will go to bookstores so that her "sister" will eventually find the book and read the message. It wouldn't make sense for all of this to happen in the few days that pass between the main events described in TSS and the main events described in TPP.

The meeting at Hotel D must be in a Hotel rebuilt after many years. 

2 -  (Incidentally, your other picnic suggestion, that a simple combination of sliced mango, black beans, and chopped celery mixed with black pepper, lime juice, and olive oil would make a delicious chilled salad also turned out to be correct.) 

This description of the salad is the same salad that Beatrice made, according to Lemony's memories. Evidently, this is evidence that points to a friendship between Beatrice and the true recipient of the letter. Canonically there is no evidence that Kit Snicket and Beatrice Baudelaire were close friends. On the other hand, canonically there is evidence that Beatrice and R were close friends in LSTUA and TBB. In fact, there is evidence in LSTUA that R had disguised himself as a member of the Snicket family previously. So, the person most likely to be the true recipient is R, not Kit. After all (it cannot be repeated enough) when Lemony wrote this letter, Kit had already been dead for many years. In fact, as I have shown previously, Beatrice JR's search for Lemony Snicket took place before Lemony published TWW, since the young girl was in Lemony's office in the building where Lemony lived (with a description identical to what Lemony described in TWW) she didn't recognize what the shape of the paperweight was. If Lemony had already published TWW, it is extremely likely that Beatrice Jr would have already read it because she is like a fan of Lemony, explicitly claiming to have read books that Lemony had already published. This shows so much that when Lemony published TWW Beatrice Jr had already been born many years ago and evidently Kit had been dead for many years, and when he published TSS, Kit had been dead even longer.

3 - "I am on my way now to the Valley of Four Drafts, in order to continue my research on the Baudelaire case"

When Lemony wrote this letter, he explicitly stated that he had not yet reached the Valley of Four Drafts. Evidently he is referring to the fact that he is writing many years after Asoue's main story took place and confirming the events little by little. He couldn't have not reached the Valley of Four Drafts and at the same time described the Baudelaires' ascent to the VFD base. In fact, by writing TSS so many years have passed that Lemony knows that if the women with their faces painted white died when they came down from the mountainous region, the rest of them were just bones. And when writing the ending of TSS, Lemony explicitly states that he spent some time collecting bones and taking them to a specialist. Evidently, Lemony's research to be able to write TSS took a long time. Imagine how strange it would be to do all this in time to show up at Hotel D a few days later!

#Adorei theory #TSS #Lemony Snicket #Duchesses of Winnipeg