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queenimmadolla · 2 years

Text

TEMPTATION

(Steve Harrington x afab!Reader SMUT)

summary: you fuck Steve Harrington in a church parking lot. that's it.

warnings: smut, slight humiliation kink, unprotected sex, maneater!reader (cue nelly furtado) and uh yeah sex in a church parking lot. a/n: inspired by this gif set. and before anyone starts crying about me writing religion kink stuff─i'm a former christian and i say we fuck Steve in front of a church. and i also say we thank @kitmon for beta-ing this.

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Fucking Steve Harrington in a church parking lot on a Sunday morning was not on your bingo card.

First of all, you absolutely hated Sundays.

Normally, you spent it preparing yourself mentally and emotionally for the draining experience known as high school the following day. And, of course, at church.

While you never bought into religion, your parents had and like every other teenager, they didn’t actually give you a choice to attend.

It used to annoy you, but that was before you noticed how often Steve Harrington stared at you, seated next to his parents in their pew and looking very much the part of a Good Boy.

Maybe that’s why you ended up in the backseat of his car, skin slick with sweat and thighs slick with your own arousal as you bounced on his cock, fingers clenching onto the seat behind him.

“Oh, God—please don’t stop,” he begged, fingers indented into the meat of your ass as he panted like a parched dog underneath you. You were so wet and tight, squeezing his cock in a manner he would never in his life ever be able to forget. Your mouth dropped open, a heated and wanton moan escaping you when one of his hands slid from your ass to between your bodies, rubbing quick and brutal circles over your clit. Your thighs trembled when you felt the head of his cock nudge against something sinful in you that demanded more, forcing you to slam yourself down on him harder.

The windows of the car were fogged up, and you were positive you could feel it moving; it’d be obvious to anyone who so much as looked in the direction of the parking lot that you two were fucking.The thought alone almost made you cum.

Steve let out a cry, head thrown back as he felt a sudden rush of your slick coat his dick.

“FUCK— how—how are you so wet?” His breathing was labored, brows pinched together in an expression that you would have thought looked an awful lot like it was caused by pain if he hadn’t been urging you up and down. “You’re fucking soaking my cock— oh, fuck—I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

You clenched around him, trading your grip on the seat for a hold on his knee as you leaned back, hips rolling furiously against his.

Steve moaned, grip on your hip tightening as he stared down at where your bodies met, at the ring of cream-colored release forming around his base and coating the dark patch of hair over his pelvis. “Look at the mess you’re making, holy shit— I’m gonna cum—you’re gonna make me cum.”

Steve himself wasn’t all that religious, he mostly attended church for the same reason you did. Still, there was a part of his mind that entertained the concept of afterlives; specifically, his and how he was positive he’d be going to hell for cumming buried in you, right outside of a building where a pastor was preaching about the importance of rejecting sin and temptation.

“Forgive me, Lord,” he mumbled fervently, over and over again as he felt his balls draw up in anticipation for his climax.

Normally, your pleasure was your number one focus (had to be someone’s, right?) but something about having Steve Harrington cream all over your insides was too appealing to ignore. Especially when he started begging his god for forgiveness for how good your pussy made him feel, walls constricting around him. He should’ve kept begging you instead.

“Shut up,” you hissed, grinding down against him. Despite the distraction of his mumbling, your body remained focused on the task at hand and it shivered with the idea of ruining him, so much that the squelching was no longer just a sound, it was a sensation, your cunt sucking him in even as your hips lifted. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed within the confined space of the BMW.

You grabbed his wrist, yanking his fingers away from your clit to suck them into your mouth. Steve let out a choked sound, voice rising in pitch as he whined and came inside you, forcing you to stay in place so he could fill you with his cum. The sheer force of it had your eyes rolling back into your skull.

His grip on your hips loosened as he came down, hairy chest heaving with his exertion.

You sighed, body relaxing as you reached down to grab your dress, pulling it over your head. “‘D you come?” He slurred out, and you ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands stuck to his forehead with sweat from his face as you raised your hips and he hissed when he slipped out of you; soft, come-covered cock resting against the hair of his happy trail.

You didn’t bother grabbing your panties from the floor of the backseat as you popped the door open.

“No,” you climbed out of the BMW, sparing one last glance at him. It was a powerful feeling, seeing the former King of Hawkins looking utterly wrecked and used up from a quick car fuck. He was lucky he hadn’t stumbled onto your path when he had been a student at Hawkins High. You would have loved to have made a mess out of him for the whole student body to see.

The stupid look on his face when he realized he hadn’t even made you cum felt better than any orgasm.

“You made a mess,” you stared pointedly down at his matted-down pubes and the shine you could see trailing down his inner thighs towards the seat. Then you slammed his car door shut and fixed your hair as you made your way back to the church with a smirk, all too aware of the heated gaze you felt on your back until you slipped through the heavy wooden doors just as the pastor finished up his sermon on repentance.

You wouldn’t have learned anything from that, anyways.

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

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Hii, I loved the toddler sibling headcanons! 😚🌸

I laughed a lot with it so I think I got another sibling time idea

Let's say that the toddler sibling grow up and is already 18 and the boys found out they have a partner (boyfriend/girlfriend)

I wanna see some jealous overprotective big brothers Headcanons 😂

OH. MY. GOD. YES!

BAYVERSE BOYS MEETING THEIR SIBLINGS S/O

Holy shit, it was bad enough for them to realize you were no longer the poptart eating toddler they found in that alley,

They literally freak out when you spill that you have an S/O.

You had sat them down on the couch and were like, "Ok, heres the deal."

Proceeded to tell them you're seeing someone.

Donnie did a spit take,

Mikey just kinda looked at you blankly, before freaking out.

Raph literally stood up, already muttering about how he was "gonna kill 'em."

Leo was all like ,

Raph insisted they meet them,

But you had to explain to him, (like 8 fucking times), that it was not far enough into the relationship for that.

From the moment you told them you were seeing someone,

They are always following you to make sure you're safe.

You're going on a date?

Leo will be supervising from the shadows.

Hanging out with friends, and you're S/O will be there?

Guess what,

So's Raph.

Donnie literally runs a backround check on your S/O and their entire family tree.

He probably know more about their grandma than they do.

Will he tell you that?

Probably not.

Now as for how your S/O meets the big brothers you talk oh so fondly of?

It was not supposed to happen, and it was totally Mikey's fault.

You were on a date whwre the two of you were just kinda hangin out on the roof of their apartment complex,

Ya know chit chatting and all that,

When this loud ass metalic bang! sounds from behing you.

You shoved your S/O down and as fast as Splinter had taught you whipped out a ninja star,

Then proceeded to almost decapitate your brother.

You were not happy.

"Goddammit Mikey. What are you doing?"

"Uhhh-"

"And I know the rest of you are there too you bunch of nosy nellies."

"Thanks Mikey-"

"Yeah come on man-"

"Geez Mikey-"

You proceeded to chew them out for the next two hours for following you without your knowledge, invading your privacy etc. etc.

While your S/O is just kinda standing there like, "Uhm, wtf?"

After you were done scolding them, You formally introduced them to your S/O.

Mikey was actually kinda chill about it,

Leo gave them the strict no funny buisness talk,

Raph gave them the classic big bro glare,

And Donnie just shook their hand like they were buisness partners or somthing.

You were kinda unsettled by how well your S/O was taking the situation.

After your bro's leave, you instantly begin to apologize, and your S/O is all like, "No, it's fine, really! I think it's cool your entire family is ninjas!"

You just mumble, "Wait till you meet my dad." and you and your S/O continue your date.

With you sending a text to your brotyers the let them know you know they're still there and to go the fuck home.

Lol.

.........................................

This was fun to write, lol, over protective big bros are great.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #leonardo x reader tmnt #platonic x reader #bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtles bayverse #tmnt x reader platonic #sibling reader #platoniv #teen reader #normie writes

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loveandplanet · 4 days

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Miss Americana

Now playing: You’re On Your Own, Kid

C/W: Mentions of abuse, violence, ellusions to rape, Marshal is a perv, misogyny/sexism, angst, Goose has no idea how to Scottish slang. As always, italics in “” depict Norwegian.

A/N: Things are getting juicy! I’m really falling in love with Evelyne’s story now, and I’m the one writing it lmao. Constructive criticism is always welcomed in a positive way. I’m sensitive.

It’s dark; the house is quiet. Evelyne squints into the darkness. Her clock says it’s 3am. It’s only been a few hours since her fight with her father. She rolls out of her bed and makes her way down the hall. Andrews door is shut, when she tries the handle, it’s locked. “Lorris?” She calls out to him, hopefully the nickname will make him open the door.

To her luck, he does. The door practically rips off its hinges from his anger. Andrew glares at her, the same look, she realizes, that he gives their dad.

“The fuck you want, Evelyne?”

“Are…are you okay? I know Marshall was pretty harsh this time.” Her cheek still stings from the slap she received, and she can only imagine how her brother feels. He huffs, rolling his eyes at her.

“You’ve taken it too far with this Scottish boy, Evelyne. I’m not covering for you anymore.” “But you said-”

“Doesn’t matter! This is your problem, not mine!”

He turns to go back into his room, leaving Evelyne there in shock. Andrew stops and looks at her one last time.

“Oh, and another thing, Marshall knows there isn’t a ‘Malic Greene’ in your class.” Then the door slams in her face, making her flinch.

“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been.”

“Lass?”

Evelyne blinks at him, her curls matted to her face from the rain. She barely remembers how she got here. She’s still in her pajamas; an old nirvana shirt and cotton sleep shorts. She didn’t even put on shoes in her desperation to get to him. Falling into his arms, she sobs out a single word. “Johnny,”

He pulls her into the house. She’s never done this; shown up at his Aunts house at the crack-ass of dawn. John bombards her with questions. What happened? Are you okay, lass? Evelyne doesn’t respond to any, only sobs. God, she feels so stupid. The more she gets Johnny involved with her, the more she puts him at risk of Marshal’s wrath. The roses were bad enough. It’s not until John pulls her away from his shoulder, tucking stray curls behind her ears with a gentleness she’s never felt, that Evelyne realizes what she has to do. She stares into the sea of blue that is her boys’ eyes. “I can’t keep doing this, Johnny.”

“Doing wha’?”

She shakes her head. Please, she begs, don’t make me say this. Evelyne thinks that God may just be on her side when Johnny’s eyes widen. The pair stare at each other for a beat in silence. And then-

“Come with me.” “What?”

“To Scotland. Come back home with me, to Scotland.”

“John you know I can’t do that! What- what about Nellie and Claire? I can’t just leave them alone. With him!”

“So yer just gonna let him beat ya to death?”

“To protect them? Yes!”

Johnny purses his lips, thinking. “Just, just try, for me lass. I leave tomorrow night; come with me,” He grabs her hands, bringing them up to his chest. “Please.”

Holy hell. When did he have the time to pick up Norwegian? Evelyne sighs, looking up at him.

“Okay,”

His face lights up.

“Really?”

“Really,”

Johnny’s kisses were always passionate, as was everything the boy did, but Evelyne felt like she was on fire when their lips met. Her hands went to his poorly done buzz cut as his went to her waist. If this is what she was giving London up for, it was worth it. “I’ll run away,”

London airport is bustling, people rushing to their terminal, to their loved ones, or to a taxi. Evelyne clutches her carry on bag to her chest as walks in the building. Johnny was in Gate C9, where he and his family were waiting for her. She feels nauseous; she’s really doing this. Leaving her family, her childhood, her sisters, behind. She ignores the constant buzzing of her phone in favor of rushing through the airport.

“From sprinklers splashes to fireplace ashes,”

Evelyne confirms for the fifth time that she is, in fact, at Gate C9. The problem? Johnny’s not here. There’s no terrible haircut, no loud Scottish slang. Evelyne’s vision blurs as tears form in her eyes; again.

“I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this.”

Three hours later, the plane is long gone, and it’s dark outside. Evelyne gathers her bags and makes her way outside. So much for coming home.

“Where that fuck have you been, girl?!”

“I went for a walk,”

Evelyne makes it two steps before her curls are roughly grabbed. She yelps before falling back. “You don’t do shit without my permission, you hear?!”

She looks at her father. His dark skin has a slight yellow tint to it. His liver must be failing. She can practically taste the shitty beer he drinks. “Yes, sir.”

Marshal looks shocked for a half a second before he smiles and his eyes roam. Evelyne wants to puke. “Good girl. It’s about time you learned.”

He releases his grip on her hair, allowing her to cower away. Evelyne lugs her bags up the stairs and into her room.

“You’re on your own kid,”

The panic starts before she can stop it.

“Yeah you can face this,”

Evelyne rips her stained sheets off her bed, shoving them into her closet.

“You’re on your own kid,”

“You always have been.”

@going-to-ikea-for-the-fries 👀👀

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #oc rp #oc #original character #cod soap #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #oc backstory #cod angst

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portraitsofsaints · 1 year

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Little Nellie of Holy God (Nellie Organ) 1903-1908

Little Nellie of Holy God was an Irish child mystic that gave St. Pope Pius X cause to change the age requirement for First Holy Communion. After her mother died, Nellie was raised by the Good Shepherd Sisters who noticed her close relationship to God. She would have conversations with, visions and even played with the child Jesus. She longed to receive Holy God, as she called Him, in Holy Communion and did so at only 4 years of age, just months before she died of tuberculosis. Nellie’s body was found to be incorrupt one year after she died.

Prints, plaques & holy cards are available for purchase here:{website}

#Little Nellie #for first holy communion #Catholic youth #Catholic faith #artist on tumblr

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astariondisapproves · 6 months

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Directed at Rebby,

I'm too much of a nervous Nellie to interact with Astarion as my tiefling, Talia, or in general just yet, but wanted to let you know how much I appreciate your portrayal of him!

I haven't played BG3 yet, but I've been watching Neil play it and have seen a lot of videos regarding Astarion, and you portray him so well!!

I love seeing the responses to different asks, can't wait to see more in the future, and hopefully I'll eventually work up the courage to send in something in character as Talia. Keep up the awesome work, and make sure you also remember to take your time and take care of yourself! ❤️

Oh my God, this just put the STUPIDEST BIGGEST GOD DAMN SMILE ON MY FACE YOU HAVE NO IDEA AJJABJCJWJG

Holy shit this means so so much to me. I love love Astarion sm, and I was honestly worried about if I was portraying him alright and after hearing your kind words I just—

Screams into a pillow, kicking up my feet giddily.

Feel free to just pop into my ask box whenever, even if it's just to talk to me :3 and whenever you feel ready, Astarion would be happy to talk with your Talia <3

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion x mc #rebby's rp

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deadboyfriendd · 1 month

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hello i hope ur well. firstly, i want to apologise from ahead because this is likely going to be a long ask as i am very bad at being succinct and precise and i truly am sorry about that. this ask is basically a lengthy compliment(s)(?)/maybe some questions about your series "cochise". i confess i hadn't read any of it before you posted the last one because i'm not a very big eddie fan (i felt quite neutral on him in the show up until his death), but i decided to give it a go, partly because i was missing the wild west from your bisbee letters, and partly out of curiosity. and my god. what a fool you made of me. that shit was so good dude, genuinely. you answered in a previous ask that your writing style can lean towards purple prose, and i really felt like it's a feature, not a bug in your case. i really felt the vivid imagery you described, especially of the heat and the dryness of the desert, and i really appreciate the tone that your intricate words built, both in terms of feeling the age of the story, as well as lent it a gothic western feel that really struck a nerve with me.

like i said before, the descriptions of the desert setting itself really stood out to me, but i wanted to point this one in particular from chapter 1: "When it brought the heat back with a haughty laughter and a heart full of vengeance...The cereus blossom fragrant with rot that filled the stagnant night air and its timely beauty". this line of the blossom reminded me of my grandfather's home in karachi from over a decade ago. his birthday was last week and for a moment, i could smell the jasmines climbing up the boundary wall in his garden again. you've spoken before how you feel connected to your grandfather through your western works because of his love for the desert and for his western novels, and i just wanted to share how much that line meant to me, truly. he passed away a long time ago and i find myself forgetting things, so it's really nice when i get parts of him back, so. thank you for that.

i also really loved the way you described Nellie's grief. I remember once I asked you something a long the lines of how your characters all felt so unique to each story despite al being reader inserts, and you talked a little bit about how Nellie was a way to process grief and heal with Eddie. There was such a feeling of Nellie's grief lingering throughout the story, at times large and somewhat violent, but mostly it felt just present in the home, like it was a part of it. This description in chapter two really fascinated me: "He laid in bed at night next to the shell of grief that resembled you, the decanter on the table filled with tears of loneliness and guilt." Idk the image of someone's grief so shapeful, and so essential to their being that it makes their form was a very powerful image, and the thought iof it cast in shadows because of the decanter really played into that gothic western aesthetic i enjoyed. Later on in the chapter, when you wrote, "That holy shape becomes a devil, best.", I thought it was so interesting how the grief over their spouse, a loyalty to their marriage, could turn into a "devil", and i think it really beautifully summarised the whole deal with guilt specifically. That no matter how righteous or justified we feel it is, it's not meant to be held onto, and it's best to let go of it, and can really turn into a much darker thing the longer you keep it with you and allow it to shape you. i also loved the way you mirrored it to eddie's grief here, "He stared at the hole in the floor, the discolored groove where you had scrubbed your knuckles bloody and raw. He thought about the him-shaped divot he had scrubbed into the frozen planes of Montana". The contrast of the desert and the cold, both equally difficult terrains to navigate and both nellie and eddie trying to scrape their grief out of that terrain, mapping out both their desperation and the difficulty of trying to get the grief out is so powerful and oh my god the description of her bloody knuckles was so raw, i could like feel the sting of bleach on my own fingers. And as much cool work you did with pointing things out, there's also this cool line here in i think chapter 2, "That emptiness would always linger, but that coldness of keys was now not for the absence of his warmth. They just were." and i think it's so powerful to describe how the absence of something can be it's own thing, that can then drain away into being not-about-the-absence-anymore. i've heard a lot of writing advice about how the worst thing to do is to try to explain something that's not there, the darkness, the silence, the not-thereness, and instead focus on what the absence leaves behind, and this was a really good example of that.

i also loved how many small descriptions were sort of called back on and made a reprisal in the beginning and ending of your story, and it makes me wonder how much of this was pre planned and how much of it was sort of improv/ a decision made later. For example, in chapter one, you have this paragraph that describes eddie watching nellie's bet time routine, "He watched the way your skin rippled at your lower back as your bare skin pressed against your vanity stool, and the way your skin stretched over your shoulder blades as you pulled your hair to the side, raking through it with the brush in front of you. Your lips fell into a supple pout in concentration, and your lashes kissed your cheeks as you looked down. He could feel the windowsill digging into his palms, it grounded him– kept him from free-floating into the stagnant desert air." and it's sort of right before he has that wet dream about her, but it's repeated in i think chapter v, and i think it's such a cool way to show how his "dreams" have come true, that this sort of dreamy, idea of a person was made more real for them, that instead of watching her intimate ritual from a distance and imagining being with her, he gets to see it from inside her bedroom and actually be with her. But then there was also the description of death twice, once in chapter 2, "There is a split second in which you can see the silver line between life and death, in which you can walk the plane between realms. There reaps a morosity heavy on your heart in the fractions of a second before a man’s life ends." and in chapter 4, "There is a gilded line between life and death. In that moment, the sun shines too bright, the hum of the earth becomes deafening. The desert respires one heavy and pungent sigh. And all is silent again... A silent prayer washes over the desert." This mirroring in the ways you describe witnessing death is so interesting and i think really striking about that final second before it happens, and calling it this silver line, this gilded line, filling in this in-betweenness with something extra and sort of suspending it between two worlds, is really special, especially when you suspend the moment in two different halves of your story, making readers feel equally suspended in the in-between, though with lower stakes. I also feel like this in-between space makes perfect room for your final chapter that also sort of takes place with a lot of in-between dimension with christine and wilhelm, of grieving someone but not letting them die, of dying but not dying, of seeing and having dinner with ghosts but not dancing with them. And it sort of cuts through the injustice and harshness of michael and milt's deaths as well, that were bloody and violent, and sort of, not neutralises them, but creates another mode of death for them which is super interesting in this terrain that's been described as ever expansive, ever present, and ever difficult, an escape from a place that has no escape.

i also really loved the way you wrote about nellie and eddie's affection for each other. These two lines from chapters 3 and 4, "Tonight, you think you will unmake the left side of the bed." and "He feels real again, like he’s standing in front of you. You reach for his hand but find Eddie’s instead." is soooo good in contrast and extending from the house described as a large ghost for wilhelm. the sort of impression that eddie leaves in the house of his presence getting stronger and stronger, until his boots are in the same spot as wilhelm's, is really cool and just a nice way to sort of build up the fractured feeling that nellie's house has. also there's this line, "This feeling was not akin to butterflies and moths. It was frantic, more persistent. Like that of the hummingbirds that drank from the cactus blossoms in the cooler mornings.". i don't have anything to say about that other than it's very pretty and i like it a lot. there's also this line i found very interesting, "On this day, you wear white. Married to your grief and eloped to this place…You would not be healed today, but you say you will never die." It's very stark imagery for sure, both the idea of a bride to grief and mountain, it makes these characters feel very elemental and not totally of this realm, and i understand they are like totally human, it does feel like it gives them access to the in-between realm of life an death, and the idea that there is a place between life and death where you don't die, feel like a very plausible thing. and it makes sense too, for someone whose healing as a widow, that half her heart is in another realm, that she's married to someone whose in another plane of existence, so like, why can't she marry a mountain where she's having sex??

also, everytime you mentioned steve alli could think was "my man my man my man" and reaaaaaalllyyyyy excited me for bisbee! this line especially, from chapter 2, "Steve’s eyes had hardened from something stone-cold to something ablaze. His eyes reaped the anger of the afternoon sun, alight with anger. Anger from defiance. Anger for Milt." captivated me so much. all that anger both for the in justice of milt's death as well the injustice of the mob was welded together so well, it made me very excited to get to know him more whenever/if you ever decide to continue bisbee, and the line in chapter 4 when he apologises to michael before putting the noose on him made for a very great snapshot of what justice looks like for steve, as like this duty that must be done by him with a backdrop of endless injustice and hardship but also hates that it's him that has to do it because of the necessary violence that comes with it. it made the sort of monologuing on violence he did in bisbee letters sort of more foreshadow-y for me. Also, i'm very excited to see nellie's cousin, you mentioned once that she was like more naive and sort of pushing steve's buttons, which fascinates me because steve seems just so stoic and like singularly focused that anything getting underneath his skin seems sort of funny, and makes me that much more excited to see the hijinks this girl gets to.

i think this is all i want to say, and i am aware it's a monster giant of an ask, and i really am sorry about that, i just had a lot of thoughts about your lovely story that i wanted to share both because i want you to know how much your story means to me and how in awe of your talent and skill i am, and how excited i am to read any and all future works from you, and if you have any insights to share about anything, please please please do tell, they would all be valuable!! your a real talent and i know it takes skill and drive and determination to build on a craft and i just want you to know that it is appreciated very much.

oh my god hi!

Sorry I'm just not getting around to this, I, unfortunately, am one of the people that take 7-10 business days to reply to a text message.

So, first off, PLEASE don't apologize to me about this response because I'm still flabbergasted that anyone thinks I am as smart an talented as the people on this website do. I mean, seriously, everyone here gives me way more credit than I'm worth.

So, in reference to the night-blooming cereus. I LOVE writing about it in any sort of desert setting. I am so touched that you thought of your granddad because it also makes me think of mine. He had a night-blooming cereus cactus that he tended to relentlessly and that we continue to care for. We haven't been lucky enough to see a bloom for it yet, but I hope one day I get to. As I've mentioned before, my first real taste of mourning and grief were through his passing, and this story was my way to rationalize that for myself.

As for Nellie's grief, I think one of the hardest things for me to navigate in this was how to write the mourning as "old enough to be healed but new enough to still hurt". I wanted it to be a nagging feeling, something in the back of her mind constantly, always threatening to bubble back up, but simultaneously trying to figure out how to not make it consume her. She was always Nellie, the grief was the obstacle for her to overcome. It was never her entire character and I never felt like my own grief was ever an extension of myself but rather this big ugly storm cloud that likes to loom over me sometimes. Again, my first real, big struggle with it was through my granddad's passing. It's been three years and it still looms around. I don't think I will ever NOT feel it. And I really wanted to encompass that in this story. I'm still ME, just like Nellie is still Nellie and Eddie is still Eddie. Just with new, big feelings. The reason she feels it so much in the home is because I felt it so much in mine. A big part of my granddad was his antique collection. We ended up with a lot of it and then it served as a constant reminder. It literally felt like every little thing reminded me of him because I searched for him in everything. As for the depiction of guilt as the devil, especially in the constant back and forth incantation of Faustus. That was a happy accident. They watch Faustus in tombstone and this bit ended being left in. Eddie was originally supposed to be a lot more closed-off. There was going to be way more of a storyline with him as a vigilante lawman or a bandolero. Eddie wasn't supposed to be a good guy, he was supposed to be someone way more hardened off my grief than Nellie. He was supposed to have more blood on his hands and be way more rough around the edges, but as I wrote, the story turned into Nellie's story- MY story, and Eddie became a mirror reflection and a catalyst for the softening woman. Feminine rage was a huge turning point for their dynamic because I felt that rage. I felt like scrubbing my knuckles raw and I felt like the devil and I felt like the villain because I, myself, was being overtaken with feeling.

As for the story itself, the original storyline was already planned. Everything with mudsill and milt was always going to be the plan. The biggest major change I made to the storyline was the finale. It was going to open in their wedding during the superbloom, and, the more I tried to write a wedding with vows, the worse it felt and the more it felt like I was writing it because that's what everyone else wanted to hear. And then I realized that this is MY story and this isn't who they are. They can be tied to each other in their grief for now and learn how to not be tied to that later. They aren't happily ever after people. The west never was. There is happiness in content, and content was what they were searching for the entire time. I wrote the finale in a single evening because it it felt right for them. I wasn't going to push more purple prose and draw the story out to a 15k word chapter. I summarized them the way they needed to be. Even if it was weird and dreamy. It was right for them. As for everything else you mentioned, I will say this: Yes, I refer back to previous parts when I write a lot but I always thought it was lazy writing lmao. You give me a LOT more credit for my work than I deserve.

Okay okay okay, I will admit that I'm completely going to be leveraging milt's death in bisbee. So, the way I'm finding the storyline working out currently is, he was writing letters back and forth the Elsie the entire time. In my most recent letter, he is discussing hanging Mudsill and the blood he feels on his hands. I am SO excited to write how the events in the Doten v. Tombstone case will affect the rest of my characters, and how the sheriff will have to navigate situations as the singular resident lawman from now on. It is a HUGE part of where Bisbee is headed and I am SO EXCITED to dip my hands in it and torture this ken doll. This Steve is going to be violent. He's going to be more impulsive. He's going to be drenched in blood and really play into what I think the actual character could come to when he gets pushed that far. And this violence and impulsiveness will 100% be tested by Elsie. It's going to be a huge part of their story.

I am holding this ask gently in my hands and kissing it. THANK YOU for bearing with me through cochise and THANK YOU for letting me scream about my cowboys, because I love them a lot.

#flea writes #flea speaks #flea answers #flea's friends

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discet · 1 year

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AU like your “Marcy in the Boiling Isles” one, only both Marcy and Luz go to the Isles.

Not sure if they becomes friends at school or if they first meet in the Isles, you choose.

You know I never wrote about it here, but this was actually my original idea for a crossover AU. However unlike MitBI, this whole story would take place post Amphibia wherein Marcy is an isekai veteran of Amphibia rather than a fellow wide eyed adventurer.

(I realize that this isn't what you really asked for but for the record, I'm not super interested in fleshing out an AU with pre-development Marcy and Luz, cause while there are interesting nuances and differences in their characters, narratively doubling up on a 'Naive nerd explores a magical world' character would feel a little redundant to me personally)

I had a whole spiel of set up working through things, but Im pretty sleepy and the moment but here's a bullet point list.

After the events of Amphibia, Marcy moves out to Connecticut with her parents.

Marcy's parents are overbearing and all the more so after she disappeared for a year. Neither take responsibility for the part they played in Marcy leaving in the first place.

Marcy starts kind of acting out refusing to just be plunked back into the pressure cooker of a home without a fight. Gets in trouble at school a lot. Earns a bit of a reputation. Probably gets into some fights that, considering her Knight Guard training she manages to win.

Ends up befriending Luz as a fellow outsider. They hit it off quickly bonding over their shared interests to the surprise of no one. Notably not isekai though, for obvious reasons.

Despite making a friend, this does not reassure Camilla. The school informs her that Marcy was a problem child since she arrived.

Both are signed up for reality check summer camp. Marcy overhears Camila's speech to Luz about giving up her interests and sees too much of her own parents in Camila to pick up the caring underneath.

Both end up in the Boiling Isles following Owlbert. Luz has her trepidation, which is only made worse by Marcy basically having a panic attack cause God Damnit how is this happening again. From here I see

A) They end up staying with Eda. Marcy encourages Luz to come back home but Luz insists on staying. Marcy, unwilling to leave Luz behind or drag her back to a home life Marcy imagines is much worse than it actually is, decides to stick around. Hoping that she can spare Luz some of the pain she experienced during her own go around. (Not to mention to see if she can find a way back to Amphibia for her Anne and Sasha's sake. )

In this set up I think Eda appreciates Marcy's utter distrust for authority figures, scheming ability, and general scoundrel's attitude. Marcy's generally far more

In Witches Before Wizards(The episodes Luz is tricked onto going on a quest) we get this exchange at the end.

Luz: Eda, how did you know that wizard was lying?

Eda: Look, kid, everyone wants to believe they're "chosen". But if we all waited around for a prophecy to make us special, [Chuckles.] we'd die waiting. And that's why you need to choose yourself.

Luz: *smiling gratefully*

Marcy: Also? For the record, being a chosen one isn't all its cracked up to be.

Luz: Wait, what?

Marcy: Yeah, that adventure I told you about? My friends and I were prophesied chosen ones, there to save the world. Which for the record, we did, and that was cool. But only after I was betrayed, impaled, and possessed by a hive mind of ancient beings.

Luz: You were impaled!?

Eda: What kind of demon is a Hive Mind?

Marcy lifts up tshirt enough to show burn scar.

Eda: Whoa nelly!

King: Holy moly does that hurt? *pokes it*

Marcy: No, totally numb. *after a couple of pokes Marcy swats King's hand away *

I think Marcy either finds a crossbow for herself or fashions one with whatever she can find

B) Marcy and Luz end up pretty separated from Eda so the option to just bail back to Earth isn't there and Marcy takes Eda's place as Luz's slightly jaded mentor figure. Which has a lot of inherent comedy to it I think cause

They are basically the same age

Marcy is by far the weaker of them when it comes social encounters.

This set up also has I think a lot more potential for a lot more contrasting plot points with canon Owl House.

I don't know where it goes ultimately, and its late so Im gonna stop here. But it was one that was cooking in the back of my head back when I first got my Marcy in the Boiling Isles question.

#au workshop #luz noceda #Marcy Wu

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weirdlet · 8 months

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Whoa nelly, that was a *battle*. But we carried it off with aplomb, because we ARE badasses.

So we set up the ruined keep, waiting for upwards of 25 battle-hardened zealots with the fury of Bane in their hearts and the false light of Helm blinding their eyes. Pit trap in the breach, oil on the drawbridge, the secret door has been locked forever, and our stalwart barbarian is holding the gates shut against war-bulls and all.

In the calm before battle, some of us pray. Glory asks Maeve, a paladin of Ilmater, how one would address a prayer to the Lord Upon The Rack. The consensus is supplication or blood, so in addition to a stick of incense to Selune ('-a care for all the little fishes caught in your net') there is this spoken to the Broken God, in a quiet corner-

'let him know- I go into danger and to doubt, but to aid your cause- to lessen the suffering under those who would crush hope.' As we finish preparing, suddenly there's something to see in the back room of the keep, the base of the ruined tower- there has sprung up a series of symbols, as if carved out of the earth! In one corner, the closed fist of Bane. In the other, the mailed gauntlet of Helm. In the middle, a set of scales. Alain says, in his spooky revenant voice- the gods are watching the outcome of this battle.

No pressure.

Soon the battle is joined- we get three rounds of potshots over the battlements as the wall of shining, steel-clad zealots approaches. Their massive warbulls are snorting and lowing, thundering towards the bridge. The fireball takes them by surprise. As does the fact that the bridge stays on fire, creaking and groaning under the weight of confused, bellowing, fully-armored war-cows.

Behind us, their leader, Remont the Kind, descends from the heavens on his winged bull, admonishing our evils in the name of good and generally reminding us that our mothers were hamsters and our fathers smelt of elderberries, only backed up with a lot of heavy firepower. He is the law, and the law is not mocked, and shit is starting to get real.

Trinidad the tortle holds the line at the gates, preventing the bellowing cattle from breaking through and getting off the bridge. Alain Starfel and Siannoran Ravenleaf, the lovers separated by death and duty, are raining spells down from the heights. Those armsmen and knights left on the outside are spreading around and actively trying to climb the walls, but it's taking them a long time and their determination to get at us is nothing against a well-prepared siege turned inside out against them.

Maeve, our paladin, is kicking ass and taking names- while Glory dives and slashes and evades to draw aggro, she cuts Remont's mount out from under him. He falls and is briefly trapped under its dead weight, and he spits out that he believes her a blackguard, a false paladin, and that he will teach her righteousness in the only way it can be taught- the gauntleted fist.

He sure tries. But as the outside minions fall to magical death from above and the war-bulls splinter the bridge beneath them, as the sacred raven-folk peck and pester those stuck in the pit-trap and prevent them from climbing out, suddenly it's this guy against three- a powerful but corrupted divine warrior against a divebombing falcon, a brute wall of a turtle whose fury manifests in a ring of fire, and a young and worthy paladin, tender in years but assured in her holy mission. Even as some of the other warriors finally crest the walls and rush in to help their leader, he's finding that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

As Remont falls, Glory does what he does best- being a dramatic bitch- flapping up into the air and projecting in his finest bosun's voice and proclaiming; "(Maeve, back me up here-) The darkness of Bane has made a home in your hearts and blinded you to Helm's truth! In the name of light and mercy, throw down your weapons!"

He's backlit by the sun, wings spread, according to the GM some would say he looks angelic. He rolls a three. The knights start shouting about demons spouting scripture. Glory sighs and starts stabbing people again.

It's a mess of blows and magic and fireballs and whirling barbarian dervishes from there. Someone heals Remont, and he pops up to fight again, swearing vengeance on Maeve and continuing to impugn her honor as a paladin. Spurred by righteousness and in the fight of her young life, she finally spears him through, running it into the ground and leaving him pinned like an insect, the zealous gleam going out of his eyes with a wheezing sigh.

Glory turns around and tries it one more time on the remaining knights.

"I am TRYING to be a better PERSON so my BOYFRIEND will be PROUD OF ME- this is your LAST. CHANCE. Throw down your weapons, or die with your delusions."

Glory be- they break and run.

In the aftermath of the battle- we check the back room, where the stone had changed into those shapes. The hand of Bane has crumbled and shattered like overbaked clay. The gauntlet of Helm has turned to gold. The scales are gone. There is a brief discussion of '-should we? Is it a reward? Is it a trap? That's really an- awful lot of solid holy gold there-' But Helm hates thieves, and Glory loves a good shiny as much as the next magpie, but as Mad Max said- 'that's bait.'

Thankfully no one tips it into a bag of holding by accident, because as we turn around an angel of the lord, a planetar no less, appears in the doorway and speaks in unintelligible tongues, offering Alain a suit of mithril chain. It looks like we made the right decision.

We talk a bit about what to do next in the aftermath, asking Alain what his holy mission says is the next priority, even as Glory is also pushing for us to take a day at least back in the town we helped raise up, because by golly we deserve some time to breathe, and train, and shop. That's all well and good, and Alain agrees that is a good idea before going on to the next priority, that of the death-god cult that wants to turn the continent into an undead wasteland. By the time we get there, we are surprised by something else- a letter has come from Neverwinter, not only thanking us for rescuing young Lord Neverember- even if we couldn't keep him from wastreling himself- but granting us permanent council positions and minor lordships in the town. The next two months of downtime, we get to spend dealing with that!

#Glory's Travails

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phoenixwatchesmovies · 1 year

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😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Hill House: Touch

1. Theodora Crain, my beloved... I love all the Crain kids, but Theo is my child. It could be I favor her because I see a lot of myself in her, or it could be Middle Child Solidarity, or it could be that Kate Seigel is awesome at what she does. (Mr. Flanagan, I'm in love with your wife.) Theo kinda bridges the spectrum of the siblings, if you ask me. She's part elder, looking out for and after those around her, and part younger, fragile and vulnerable and will shatter with the right pressure. Her emotional walls and physical boundaries are a necessity, and they're all that's holding her together. When they slip, she'll fall apart. The scene of her and Nellie in the morgue is gut-wrenching and hurts more on rewatch than it did the first time.

2. Again with the symmetry of plot lines and the past mirroring the present. I love the writing so much, holy shit oh my god.

3. "We didn't know you were into...." "Bridesmaids?" XD

4. God, Liv. She breaks my heart, and I love Carla Gugino for it.

5. Have I mentioned how much I love Theo? *wraps her in a blanket and tucks her in with hot cocoa*

#currently watching #the haunting of hill house #phoenix rants

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weareasong · 1 year

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In the day, in the night

Say it right, say it all

You either got it or you don't

You either stand or you fall

When your will is broken

When it slips from your hand

When there's no time for joking

There's a hole in the plan

Oh, you don't mean nothing at all to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

No, you don't mean nothing at all to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

But you got what it takes to set me free (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

Oh, you could mean everything to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

I can't say (say) that I'm not (not) at a loss (loss) and at fault (fault)

I can't say (say) that I don't (don't) love the light (light) and the dark

I can't say that I don't (don't) know that I am alive

And I love what I feel (feel)

I could show (show you) you tonight, you tonight

Oh, you don't mean nothing at all to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

No, you don't mean nothing at all to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

But you got what it takes to set me free (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

Oh, you could mean everything to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

From my hands I could give you something that I made

From my mouth I could sing you another brick that I laid

From my body (from my body) I could show you (I could show you)

A place (a place) God knows (that only God knows)

You should know, this space is holy (Oh oh oh oh)

Do you really wanna go? (Three, four)

Hey, hey, hey

You don't mean nothin' at all to me

Hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

You don't mean nothin' at all to me

Hey, hey

#music #soundcloud #lyrics #music lyrics #nelly furtado #say it right #nelly furtado say it right #love music

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merrysithmas · 2 years

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hello gothic anon here THANK YOU FOR THE LONG ANSWER!! you get it!!! gosh i actually have rambled about how vaderwan is gothic adjacent so often to my friend that they must have been sick to death 😂 btw i present you, some quotes that got me absolutely batsh*t insane bcs of how perfect they are in describing vaderwan:

Candyman to Helen: “It was always you, Helen. Be my victim. Be my victim.”

Koschei the Deathless to Marya: “Oh, I will be cruel to you, Marya Morevna. It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be. But you understand, don’t you? You are clever enough. I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable. But I am your servant. When you starve I will feed you; when you are sick I will tend you. I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased. For you alone I will be weak.”

Carmilla to Laura: “You will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish; the more ardent the more selfish. How jealous I am you cannot know. You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me, and hating me through death and after. There is no such word as indifference in my apathetic nature.”

YESSS thank you for bringing Carmilla into this!! and of course Koschei.

In return, here is my gigantic list (a way too long post) of SOME of the Gothic Romance/Horror quotes that remind me of Obikin.

"Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright." - The Wolfman

"I believe a man lost in the mazes of his own mind may imagine that he's anything.” - The Wolfman

"Larry, to some people, life is very simple. They decide that this is good, that is bad. This is wrong, that's right. There's no right in wrong, no good in bad. No shadings and greys, all blacks and whites...Now others of us find that good, bad, right, wrong, are many-sided, complex things. We try to see every side but the more we see, the less sure we are. Now you asked me if I believe a man can become a wolf. If you mean "Can it take on physical traits of an animal?" No, it's fantastic. However, I do believe that most anything can happen to a man in his own mind." - The Wolfman

Lawrence Talbot : You should kill yourself.

Sir John Talbot : Oh, I cannot tell you how often I've considered that. But life is far too glorious, Lawrence, especially to the cursed and the damned, like myself. -The Wolfman (2010)

"All right, you fools. You've brought it on yourselves! Everything would have come right if you'd only left me alone. You've driven me near madness with your peering through the keyholes and gaping through the curtains, and now you'll suffer for it! You're crazy to know who I am, aren't you? All right! I'll show you!" - The Invisible Man

"Power, I said! Power to walk into the gold vaults of the nations, into the secrets of kings, into the Holy of Holies; power to make multitudes run squealing in terror at the touch of my little invisible finger. Even the moon's frightened of me, frightened to death! The whole world's frightened to death" - The Invisible Man

"An evil spirit possessed you. I pray God it is satisfied now, and you find peace. The evil eye has done its work; my life is over, spared for a lifetime of horrors in my sleep, waking each day to grief. Goodbye, Katrina." - Sleepy Hollow (film)

"My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being." -Wuthering Heights

"I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.” - Wuthering Heights

"He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I should fall asleep in his; and he said he could not breathe in mine.” - Wuthering Heights

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.” - Wuthering Heights

"If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.” - Wuthering Heights

"Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it." - Frankenstein

"I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other." - Frankenstein (😭😭)

"There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand." - Frankenstein

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." - Frankenstein

"Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures." - Frankenstein (��😭)

"It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another." - Frankenstein

"When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?" - Frankenstein

"The whole series of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force of reality" - Frankenstein

#can you tell frankenstein's monster is one of my favorite characters of all time if not my flat out favorite #obikin #long post #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ask #anon #ilu my gothic anon #someone PLEAe make obikin edits with these quotes #pleaseeeeee sjsjsjjs i beg

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