#cem's writing

[cemoras27-but-writing-this-time]

Red's Robin. pt 1.

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2, hi I finished the first chapter :), spent way too long on it but Im happy at how it came out and fully intend on making more

@faeriekit since you were apart of that little conversation I assume you wanted to be tagged to, sorry if not!

Also the formatting may be off at the end, typing like texting is hard! I dont know how humans type other than me! And I've seen Tim typing like he doesn't know how to spell in fics before!

I hope you all Have a Great Day!!

Ao3:(to be added)

Tim sighs as he looks at his window sill. The small orange and gray bird that had perched on it stared at him through the closed window. Almost like it was asking him to let it in. But that's crazy! It's just a little bird, it probably just thinks he’ll feed it and that's why it's looking at him. But he’s not Damian and won’t adopt a wild animal the second he sees it.

It pecks at the window, and stares. Again it pecks.

Tap, tap, tap. It continues as if it's knocking. Tim turns back to his laptop, the Riddler is out of Arkham and has been suspiciously quiet. 

Tap, tap, tap. Tim doesn’t look. Tap, tap, pause. Taptaptaptap taptap tap. The noise doesn’t stop. Tim swings around and closes the curtains. And the noise persists, until it pauses. Breathing out a sigh Tim can finally make some progre-

BANG. The window shakes.

‘Did… did it just fly into the window? Can’t birds die like that?’ Tim peeks around the curtain to see the small robin-like bird shaking its head and turn to fly off. Only for it to slam body first into the window again. It takes a moment before it flies off. Tim opens the curtains and sees it quickly flying towards the closed reinforced window. He's able to open the window before it can kill itself and it rams into his chest instead. Which painfully sends him careening back onto his chair.

‘Ouch… it hits harder than expected…’ He looked down at the small bird that had moved down onto his lap, now that it's closer he notices that he has never seen a bird- robin(?) like this one. Its body is a light bluish-gray and slender with an orange head with little yellow markings next to its eyes, with tiny black legs with three talons. It stood barely a foot tall and its tail had odd white markings that vaguely resembled an arrow fletch. 

The bird adjusted itself and opened its wings, showing a white underwing, and flapped them until it was hovering next to Tim’s face. Small black eyes stare into blue.

“‘Chling!” it chirped and swooped up to land on his head, where it immediately started to peck at his hair. ‘Is it preening me? I thought birds need to trust a person to do that,’ Tim thought, his hair getting thrown into his eyes.

“Hey, stop that. Get off!” he gently batted at the bird trying to dislodge it from its roosting place, getting a stern peck in return. He looks at his laptop. He could just keep working but the bird would be a distraction. Damian might look at the bird, he had more information about animals than Tim did. But did he want to talk to Damian? Not really. He really needed to continue to track the Riddler, he's too much of a threat to be left unattende-

His stomach growls. The bird’s stomach growls. In a weird serenade the organs announce their mutual hunger. 

‘When was the last time I ate? When did the bird eat last?’ Tim thought, overwhelming hunger tearing at his abdomen and dizziness makes itself known. Ok snack then he can look into the bird and hopefully find the Riddler. His minifridge is empty, he knows that but still checks it -yep still empty, so he has to go to the kitchen. He grabs his phone from his desk and checks it.

9:49 -  Friday, June 2 - 26% battery

He still has about an hour and a half until he needs to get ready for patrol. He closes his bedroom door behind him quietly and pulls up the search bar.

‘What do robins eat?’

He's walking down the stairs, the search engine shows several articles, mostly about the most recent spotting of Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin outside Batburger with pictures showing the three with the fast food bags. Cass was there too but nobody saw her.

He adds bird to the search

‘Mealworms, insects, and berries. Steph ate the last of the strawberries.’ Tim reaches the Kitchen, thankfully no one is in there. The bird finally flutters off of his head and onto the kitchen island and starts hopping around. There’s no other ‘berry’ fitting fruits either. “Sorry little guy, I don't think we have anything you're interested in. Alfie would kill us if we brought any bugs in.” He speaks to the room and grabs his preferred snack, an Alfred made orange-cranberry muffin, and turns to the island. 

The bird is pecking at the banana stand. Tim had forgotten about the bananas, Alfred only gets them to brown for banana bread. Everyone besides Dick hates the texture, and the rest of the kitchen is always stocked with something else to eat.

“Oh I guess there is something.” he sets his muffin down and rips one off the bunch and peels it as far as he’s willing. He wipes his hand against his pants and continues with his muffin. 

The bird hops onto the yellow fruit and sticks its beak into the soft insides. And they eat quietly together. Tim watches as the bird snips the sides of the peel to open it up more. He pulls up the camera app on his phone and takes a picture of it when it lifts its head up. He then goes to google. 

‘Orange and gray bird’

‘Orange and blue gray bird’

‘Robin species’

‘Robin BIRD species’

‘Small birds species’

‘Thrush bird species’

‘Finch species’

‘Bird with orange heads and gray bodies;

‘Birds with white underwings and orange heads’

‘Birds with white stripes on tail with orange heads’

Nothing he searches comes close to the bird in front of him. He sighs and pulls up his messages, and throws away the muffin wrapper.

Demon Child:

lol lokat tis thig

Would you type properly, Drake?

no u

[Image of fletchling]

Unlike you Drake I do type properly.

What kind of avian is that? I do not recognize it.

Idk im ak u

Drake is that our kitchen? Did you let a wild animal into our home?

It was hungy 🥺

Aldo no one eafs the babfas anyway

I am aware of our family’s dislike of bananas Drake.

That does not excuse nor explains why there is a wild animal in our kitchen!

It wan ted insid

Kept hittting my windo

What did you use as bait?

My Good Looks

Drake.

IDK man

It jst wanted in

I think it’s hurt

Didn want you bothefing B over a ded borb outdid

So i open d the window

An it flewa in and won t leab

I won’t be able to look it over until I get home.

And that will not be for another hour. Keep it inside. I will look at it before I go with Father for patrol.

K

At this point the bird had finished with it’s snack and Tim had thrown away it’s peel. It perched on his shoulder looking at his messages to Damian. Tim took another picture of the bird on his shoulder and sent it to Damian and went back to his room. 

If anything, the bird seemed to like him, and he could use that to annoy Damian until he got home.

[zeyneppertem]

[fatalitabii]

Onde estão as pessoas dessa rede social!?!?

[autistudyblr]

27.9 - lab work & maths

i had my first labs today! it was mostly just measuring things, learning to use the equipment and set everything out correctly. my lab partner was nice, and she's doing theoretical physics too!

we start maths classes tomorrow, so i'm quickly revising complex numbers, i want to know what i'm doing in case we're taught something new.

🎶 greek tragedy - the wombats

[momscrubsandmysteries]

Os “Cem anos de solidão” (1967) de Gabriel Garcia Marquez 

“A cidade dos espelhos seria arrasada pelo vento e desterrada da memória (…) as estirpes condenadas a cem anos de solidão não tinham uma segunda oportunidade sobre a Terra.” Assim acaba o livro, prémio nobel da literatura em 1982.  E eu, que o li sem saber do que tratava, na doce ignorância do que iria encontrar ao longo das páginas, confesso que demorei algum tempo a perceber o porquê deste…

[crookdeclipses]

This ask game was on your other blog today, but 🌩️ for Ada's fic?

Girl you know it <3

This is a toughie because there's not a whole lot funny in here lol, but I'll see what i can do.

OK I know I've shared some of this before (specifically the last line) but it's really the only funny thing I've written so far

"I know you were serious about coming to live with my family whenever I'm ready to, but what about your coven?"    Cem smiled.    "There's a song I heard once," he replied "it says one is the loneliest number," he sang the lyrics, ceasing abruptly to ask,"You know this song?"     I pulled my iPod from my pocket and scrolled down to my 1969 Playlist. "Harry Nillson or Three Dog Night?" I asked with a smile. I had both versions, though I knew he'd probably heard the Three Dog Night cover.     "I don't know, " he admitted, laughing. "But this song, it says that 'Two is the loneliest number since the number one'."     I nodded, waiting for him to continue to his point.      "Well the song is wrong: the loneliest number since one is three, if two of the three are a couple." He explained, his tone playfully grim.     "Ahh," I smiled. "I think I understand that struggle a little. I imagine it's worse spending a hundred years with only a young couple for company. Seventy years with three couples must seem like nothing to you."     "And you weren't the only one alone," he added with a smirk.     "Edward's never been exactly what I would call effervescent company," I sighed.

[arc-misadventures]

Can we have Jaune and Coco rag on Cinder for her outfit she wears to blend in at Beacon? Its not very good looking.

(Also is it offensive to have Coco do a gay disappointed stare?l

We Need To Talk

Cinder: Alright, we've got our uniforms, now it's time to blend in with the rest of the students.

Mercury: This should be easy enough to do.

Emerald: They'll just see us as any other student.

Neo: (Rolls her eyes as she fellows these three imbecile)

Cinder: Alright, now all we have to do is mingle a little so we don't stand out as a bunch of loners. Let's ming...?

Jaune: ...

Coco: ...

Cinder: Uhhhh... Hi...?

Jaune: You are wearing... a school uniform...?

Cinder: Of course I am. I'm a student of, Haven Academy, so of course I wear their school uniform.

Jaune: ....

Coco: ...

Coco: It doesn't fit her.

Cinder: What?

Jaune: And, yet... it does?

Coco: It's her face.

Jaune: Partly.

Cinder: My face, what's wrong with my face?

Coco: She looks too old to be a student.

Cinder: Old?!

Coco: But still, the school uniform does fit her.

Jaune: In the porn film category?

Mercury: Pfft!

Coco: Yes, that's why it fits so well! She looks like she's the star in a porn film!

Cinder: EXCUSE ME?!

Jaune: But, not the bland crap you'll find in, Atlas: Girl with pigtails being done in by the school jock.

Coco: Of course not! She has too much class for that! She is more like the kind you find in, Mistral. Where she seduces the shy classmate with a massive package, or is seduced by her teacher showing her how much of a daddy complex she has~!

Cinder: A what complex?

Jaune: Or, she's the milf seducing her daughters schoolmate while wearing her old uniform.

Coco: Nice~!

Cinder: W-W-What...?

Mercury: Piftails?

Emerald: Daddy complex?!

Neo: (Silent laughing!)

Jaune: Overall grading?

Coco: Seven out of ten. She looks good in that school uniform, but she doesn't look that good in it. You?

Jaune: Six out of ten. She just looks too old. Like five years to old to be in school.

Coco: Agreed.

Jaune: There you go, six point five out of ten. Congratulations!

Cinder: Thank you...?

Coco: So, lunch?

Jaune: Yes, I am quite famished.

Cinder: W-What just happened?

Yang: Whoa, that was close...

Cinder: Close?

Yang: Yeah, those two are part of, Beacons Fashion Trio. They judge everyone's fashion, and based on their verdict. You can suffer grave consequences based upon your fashion choices.

Emerald: They judge you based on your fashion taste; What do they do, say really mean things?

Mercury: write you a strongly worded letter?

Emerald: Pfff!

CEM: Hahahahaha!

Yang: They water boarded me.

CEM: HAHA-Ha...?!

Emerald: T-They did what?

Yang: They waterboarded me... for wearing fucking crocs.

Cinder: Y-You're kidding me...

Yang: By the gods I wish I was... So you lot better be careful. If you dress unfashionably... You will learn true fear...!

CEMN: ...

Emerald: The fuck is with these people?!

Cinder: Don't worry, I'm certain nothing bad will happen. Afterall we all dress fabulously~!

~~~

Cinder: BERERERE!?! GERGHERGHERH?!!

(Splash)

Cinder: Bwah! (Cough, Cough, Cough!)

Coco: A leather vest, a leather pauldron, grey tight sports pants, high heel shoes, and fingerless bicker gloves... What the fuck were you think that, that was fashionable?!

Cinder: It was just an outfit!

Jaune: It was a crime against fashion!

Coco: And, don't even get me started on the bandages you're using as a bra! Lady, ditch the bandages! There isn't even anything to show!

Cinder: Hey?!

Coco: Why are you even associated with this walking trash bag, Roman? I thought you had better taste then this?!

Cinder: Roman...?

Roman: Hey, she threatened me into working with her! I've been trying to get out of working with her cronies. You think I want to work with this slob!

Cinder: You betrayed me...?

Roman: I may have made a lot of money working for you. But, the threats to my, and Neo's lives..

Neo: (Smiles, and waves~!)

Roman: And, your plans to destroy, Vale have soured my moods to keep working with you. But, your taste in fashion?! That's too far for me missy!

Cinder: What?!

Glynda: She was going to do what? Roman, why didn't you tell me, I would have dealt with her?

Roman: Her fiery red dress was fashionable enough I let it slide, but this! This thing crosses the line!

Glynda: Understandable. Now tell me what it was she was planning, and I'll get you a plea deal, to avoid a lengthy jail sentence.

Roman: Deal!

Cinder: TRAITOR!

Roman: Oh, pish posh. I was never on your side to begin with. The only side I'm on was mine, Neo's, and fashion!

Cinder: When I get out of here, I am going to gut you like a...?!

Roman: Blah blah blah! Dunk her, Neo!

Cinder: Wait no!

(Spash!)

Cinder: BERGERHUR?!! DURGEHEREDEREDGUR?!!! BUDERDGHER?!

Glynda: She's holding her under rather violently...

Roman: Bitch melted her ice cream.

Glynda: A true monster...

[viagracex]

Heyyy queen I was wondering if u can write a George clarke fan fic about the song bed cem or the song how deep is your love or the song never be like you what ever ideas come to mind thank u queen

Chasing the Fire

george clarke x fem!reader

summary: maybe it's all in my head, but i bet we'd have really good bed chem. (based on the song bed chem by sabrina carpenter)

warnings: sexual content and smut

note: I love this song and tried to write this so it tied into the lyrics as best as I could. I hope you like it and I’d love to get more requests!

2.4k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

It happened so fast. The party was loud, and you were only half paying attention when you saw him. George.

White jacket, thick accent, messy hair that he had clearly run his hands through too many times that night. You were in a sheer dress that felt a little too bold when his gaze flickered down your body, but you didn’t care.

“Hey,” he said, casual, like he wasn’t the most interesting person in the room.

“Hey,” you echoed, playing it cool.

You talked for a second—literally, maybe sixty seconds. His friend nudged him, distracted him, and before you could find another excuse to stay, he was gone.

But not before you followed each other on Instagram.

You couldn't stop thinking about George as you scrolled through his Instagram that night. His feed was a mix of artsy black and white photos, candid shots with friends, and the occasional shirtless beach pic that made your heart race. You found yourself imagining his accent, replaying your brief conversation over and over.

You weren’t proud of how much time you spent on his page.

Videos of him laughing, of him looking devastatingly good in dim bar lighting, of him in some oversized hoodie that made you think about how easy it would be to steal it after a night together.

You couldn't help but fantasize about George as you lay in bed that night, your mind wandering to places it shouldn't. You imagined his strong hands running through your hair, his accent low and husky in your ear. In your mind, he was tender yet passionate, taking his time to explore every inch of your body.

You pictured the two of you tangled in soft sheets, his muscular form pressed against yours. His kisses would start gentle but grow more urgent, leaving you breathless. You could almost feel the warmth of his skin, the slight roughness of stubble on his jaw.

George would know exactly how to touch you—where to caress and tease. His fingers would trace delicate patterns across your skin, sending a shudder through you. You imagined looking into his eyes, dark with desire, as you moved together in perfect synchronicity.

In your fantasy, George was attentive and giving, focused entirely on your pleasure. His stamina would be impressive, your lovemaking lasting for hours as you discovered each other's bodies. Afterwards, you would lay entwined, trading lazy kisses and soft caresses as your heart rates slowly returned to normal.

You fell asleep with these vivid images playing in your mind, your body tingling with unfulfilled desire. Part of you felt a little guilty for letting your imagination run so wild about someone you'd barely met. But a larger part of you hoped that someday, somehow, fantasy might become reality.

God, the chemistry would be unmatched.

You wanted him.

You wanted him so bad.

And when his name popped up in your DMs, you nearly dropped your phone.

George: That dress was dangerous, by the way.

You: What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.

George: I’d like to see how interesting.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over your phone, but there was no need to play shy. You both knew what you wanted.

You: Are you free next week?

The hotel room was dimly lit, golden from the bedside lamps. You heard him before you saw him, the click of the door shutting, the deep inhale like he was trying to steady himself.

You turned, your heart pounding. George stood there, his white jacket discarded, leaving him in a tight black t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the silky slip dress you'd chosen for the occasion.

"You look even more dangerous than last time," he murmured, his accent making heat pool in your stomach.

You took a step towards him, drawn like a magnet. "Good dangerous or bad dangerous?"

His lips quirked into a smirk. "The best kind of dangerous."

In two strides, he closed the distance between you. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," George confessed, his voice low and husky.

"Me neither," you breathed.

His eyes met yours, dark and intense, and then his lips were on yours, soft at first, then more insistent. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. George’s hands traced down your sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The passion you had imagined ignited instantly between you.

"You're even more stunning than I remembered," he murmured against your lips.

His voice dipped into a teasing rasp, heat pooling in your stomach. You ran your fingers through his messy hair, just as you had dreamed of doing. George’s hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. In one fluid motion, he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed.

"I've thought about this moment since I saw you in that dress," George said, his voice low and husky. He laid you down gently, then hovered above you. "You're absolutely perfect."

His praise made you flush with desire. George slowly undressed you, kissing each newly exposed patch of skin. When you were bare before him, he sat back to admire the view.

"Gorgeous," he breathed.

You reached for him, impatient. George chuckled and quickly shed his own clothes. He was all lean muscle and smooth skin. You couldn't wait to touch him everywhere.

George kissed a path down your body, setting every nerve ending alight. His clever tongue teased and tasted. You writhed beneath him, overcome with sensation. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he flipped you over.

"On your knees for me, love."

George's strong hands gripped your hips as he positioned himself behind you. You shivered in anticipation, your skin tingling where he touched you. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, and whispered in your ear.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his accent thick with desire. "So beautiful, so perfect for me."

You felt him slowly push inside, stretching and filling you completely. You both groaned at the exquisite sensation. George set a steady rhythm, his hips rocking against you as he showered your neck and shoulders with kisses.

"That's it, love," he encouraged. "You feel amazing."

His praise spurred you on. You pushed back to meet his thrusts, drawing him even deeper. George’s fingers dug into your hips as he picked up the pace. The room filled with the sounds of your passion—skin on skin, breathless moans, whispered endearments.

"You're taking me so well," George panted. "Such a good girl for me."

His words sent a thrill through you. You arched your back, silently begging for more. George obliged, driving into you with rough thrusts. He slid a hand around to tease between your legs as he continued to pound into you. The dual sensations were overwhelming.

"Say it again," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He did. And then he gave you exactly what you wanted.

You could feel the tension building, a delicious coil of pleasure tightening low in your belly. George's skilled fingers worked in tandem with his powerful thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, love," he encouraged, his voice rough.

You cried out in ecstasy as waves of pleasure crashed over you. George held you tight as you trembled through your release. He slowed his movements, letting you ride out the aftershocks.

"You're so beautiful when you cum for me," he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

Before you could catch your breath, George flipped you onto your back. His eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at you. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled.

He hitched your legs over his shoulders and entered you again in one smooth thrust. The new angle had you seeing stars. George set a punishing pace, driving into you relentlessly.

"You feel so good," he praised. "So tight and wet for me."

You could only moan in response, overwhelmed by sensation. George's muscular body moved above you, a thin sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the low light. He looked like a god, and you were helpless beneath him.

"Tell me how it feels," George commanded, his accent thicker than ever.

"Amazing," you gasped. "You feel so good. God. Please don't stop."

George groaned, clearly affected by your words. "I couldn't stop if I tried. You're addictive."

He lowered your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. The change in position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You clung to George, your nails raking down his back as he drove into you relentlessly. His muscular body pressed you into the mattress, surrounding you completely.

"You’re unreal," George praised.

You whimpered at his words, arousal coursing through you. George's lips found your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin. You knew he'd leave marks, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You wanted everyone to know you belonged to him.

"George, please," you begged, though you weren't sure what you were asking for.

He seemed to understand, reaching between you to circle your clit. The overstimulation had you crying out, trembling beneath him. George's thrusts became more erratic as he chased his own release.

"That’s it, one more—cum with me," he commanded. "I want to feel you."

His words pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name as waves of pleasure once again washed over you. George followed soon after, groaning against your neck as he found his release.

You laid there, still breathless, your body warm, spent, tangled in sheets that smelled like him.

George propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with that damn smirk.

"So…" he murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare stomach. "I can say that it was very interesting indeed."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, it was."

His grin widened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.

"Round two?"

You pretended to think about it. "Depends. Are you free next week?"

He chuckled, rolling on top of you again.

"Let’s start with tonight."

As George's lips met yours once again, you couldn't help but marvel at how reality had surpassed even your wildest fantasies. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was better than you could have imagined.

His hands roamed your body with a confidence that made you weak. You ran your fingers through his hair, relishing its softness. It was even more luxurious than you'd dreamed, perfect for gripping in the heat of passion.

And speaking of passion... your eyes couldn't help but wander down his chiseled body. You bit your lip, a mixture of awe and anticipation coursing through you. Oh my. Finally getting a chance to appreciate his body—and god, he was even more gifted than you'd dared to hope. No wonder you felt so full earlier.

George caught you staring and smirked. "See something you like?"

You blushed but met his gaze boldly. "Just admiring the view."

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "I aim to please."

"Oh, you certainly do," you purred, running your hands down his muscular chest.

As George began trailing kisses down your neck, you closed your eyes in bliss. His touch was electric, igniting every nerve ending. You'd imagined your chemistry would be good, but this was on another level entirely.

Your body responded to his every caress like it was made for him. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks dancing across your skin. He took his time exploring every curve, as if committing you to memory.

You explored each other's bodies for hours, finding new ways to bring each other pleasure. George was insatiable, his stamina impressive. He took you in every position imaginable, each one bringing new sensations and delights.

As the night wore on, your passionate frenzy gave way to something slower, more tender.

Eventually, exhaustion settled over you both like a warm, sated haze. Your bodies remained tangled beneath the rumpled sheets, your breath still slightly uneven, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync. George's arm draped lazily over your waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare hip. Neither of you spoke for a long time—there was no need. The weight of the moment, the unspoken understanding between you, said everything words couldn’t.

The dim hotel room hummed with the quiet intimacy of two people who had just unraveled each other completely. Your fingers toyed with the strands of his messy hair, brushing them back from his forehead as he studied you with hooded eyes, a smirk playing at his lips. “So,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and satisfaction, “was that as good as you imagined?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress your grin. “Better.”

George chuckled, his fingers tracing idle circles on your bare skin, his touch still sending little aftershocks through your body. There was something electric between you, something undeniable—like you were two forces drawn together by something deeper than just attraction. It wasn’t just the way his body fit perfectly against yours, or the way his voice alone could make you shiver. It was the way you felt in his presence, like the air between you was charged, like every glance, every smirk, every teasing comment had been leading to this moment. The chemistry between you was unreal, like something out of a film, impossible to ignore, impossible to fake.

And the scariest part? You knew this wasn’t just a one-time thing. It wasn’t just lust or fleeting excitement. This was something potent, something addictive, something that had already begun weaving its way into your thoughts, your bones, your breath.

George tilted his head, that knowing smirk playing at his lips—like he could read your mind. “I can hear you thinking from here,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “Just… wondering how the hell we have this much chemistry.”

His smirk softened into something almost contemplative. His fingers skimmed your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower. “Me too.”

The weight of that admission settled between you, heavy with unspoken things. A promise. A challenge. A warning.

Because once you’ve felt this kind of fire, you’ll spend forever chasing the burn.

[sdmnpact]

Heyyy queen I was wondering if u can write a George clarke fan fic about the song bed cem or the song how deep is your love or the song never be like you what ever ideas come to mind thank u queen

Bed Chem.

George Clarke x Reader fic, suggestive

♪ Now Playing: Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter ♪

~~~

You were standing by the bar at this crowded party that your friend brought you to. You loved parties but you weren't really feeling the vibe tonight. You looked around at all the sweaty bodies dancing including your friend who was grinding against a guy she just met. You laughed to yourself as you watched her thoroughly enjoying herself.

As you scanned the room, a pair of blue eyes caught your attention. Your body tensed up as you two exchanged eye contact for longer than intended. You took in his features, noticing his curly brown mullet and nicely trimmed beard. He was quite a handsome man, you can't deny that but you can't help to wonder why he's staring at you. You looked away towards your friend watching as she continued to dance. You felt a tap on your shoulder, you turned around to be faced with that blue-eyed stranger.

"Hey, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say, you have the most beautiful eyes." His words made your heart race. You felt the words caught in your throat but mustered them out. "Thanks." Was all you could say. The both of you stood there exchanging eye contact in silence, it didn't feel awkward at all, which you found strange. It was more of a comfortable silence, one that felt like it was between two friends rather than strangers.

You exchanged a couple words, nothing of much importance. The glances you swapped were the most memorable. After a few minutes, his friend came rushing up behind, urging him that they had to leave immediately. You felt slightly upset that he had to leave so suddenly as you were just getting to know him. "You guys should hang out later!" His friend suggested slurring his words. You gave him your number quickly as his friend dragged him away. You went back to watching all the party goers when your phone buzzed.

Don't forget me :)

A simple text but your heart fluttered at the thought of this mystery man. You wanted to know more about him but unfortunately you were going to have to wait. The rest of the night felt like a blur, the only things you could think about were the man's blue eyes and curly locks with that sweet smile that he held every time he looked at you. You couldn't help but feel like you were meant to meet him, it's a silly thing but out of everyone you could have met, it was him.

>>>>>

You texted him over the course of a week. The thoughts of him clouding your mind. You felt attracted to him and intrigued with the idea of him the more time you spent apart.

After giving you his name, you scrolled through his Instagram feed, swooning at his gorgeous looks. Seeing him wearing an open collared shirt revealing a lot of his chest making you swoon. You watched a couple of his videos learning more about his charming and funny personality. The more you watched, the further you fell. You haven't had a relationship in a long time, let alone hooked up with anyone so you were feeling quite needy.

The memories came flooding back of the way his eyes looked at you, the way they were filled with lust. You remember noticing his toned body, this led you to think about what it was like. What it was like to be with him. The way his strong arms would hold you so gently, the way his soft lips would press against yours, the way he would treat you like a princess. Satisfying you in every way he could, making sure that everything was about you. Holding on to you like he was afraid to lose you.

You wanted him more and more as the hours passed.

>>>>>

A week has gone by and you both finally had the chance to meet up again. You were excited to get to speak to him face to face after constantly texting everyday. You two met up at your local pub, sitting in a booth facing each other.

You could feel the chemistry explode, it felt like you were catching up with a friend rather than some guy you only met a week ago. It felt electric and full of sparks, as cliché as that sounds. There was something about the way he spoke to you that made you feel comfortable and safe. His gaze fully focused on you as he held onto every single word that came out of your mouth. It felt like you two were the only people in the world in this moment as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours. Time moved so fast but neither of you could notice. The way you laughed together, flirted with one another, this was more than you expected, it was better. As the night came to an end, neither of you wanting to split apart from each other, you made plans to meet again. You were excited about this whole interaction, eager to see where it'll go.

---

A/n

Had so much fun writing this one!! I really like the idea of writing a fic based off songs, i actually have a harry wip that is like that. Thank you so much for the suggestion!! I hope you enjoyed it!!

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #377

I am up entirely too late, especially since I'm supposed to be up at 7:30 tomorrow morning to go on a plane trip with J. I don't really remember where we're supposed to fly to, but I'm sure there will be yummy food somewhere along the way; I am eager!

I went to the bakery almost as soon as I woke this morning; I wanted to make sure I had access to my schedule on my new phone. To get it set up on a new phone, you have to scan a specific QR code and know your date of hire. The QR code is posted on the wall, but I didn't know my hire date.

(seriously, what even IS time??? if time is a large mammal, why are we passing it through a needle, cell by cell, moment by moment, somehow still alive??? why did it have to be so arbitrary and limiting??? who decided this??? where do they live, and can I punch them???)

We got it settled, no worries. Now I can view my schedule anytime. And to the surprise of absolutely no one (except for myself, apparently), no one at work seems to hate me for having been away for so long.

I picked up honey, molasses, and mint tea, and then returned home.

I made a tea when I got home – a biscuit-flavored tea, sweetened with honey, molasses, and cream. It tastes like one of those Biscoff cookies! Very yummy! I took a video for you and everything!

...Except, before I did all that, I discovered that GoPro cameras have fixed focus; you cannot change it for close-up shots whatsoever. So... first I made a little stand for my phone out of wire and cardboard so that I could take a proper video! And then I made the tea!

...I didn't have time to upload the video, though. I got distracted by a variety of things. One of those things was trying to write something thoughtful and kind to a person on the internet I know (but am definitely not at all close to) who lost a beloved non-human animal companion yesterday. I know there's no words I can say to console such a loss, but at very least, I hope he knows he's not alone.

Another one of those things was going out on a nice walk with J (it was 52 fucking degrees F (11.11 degrees C) in December. DE. CEM. BER. WHAT THE FUCK)! I got lots of lovely pictures for ya along the way:

Sometime after we came home, I worked some more on the music box. I completed the ending. I didn't hate it.

After that, I was able to arrange the patterns I built. Though... ClipChamp kind of mangled the sound a little. There's a sort of... clickyness to it that isn't present when I listen to it on my laptop. It's maybe kinda lame, but... it's a good proof-of-concept...

Maybe I'll try to sing over it later. Or maybe I won't. I'm not sure yet. Either way, I can't do it now; my voice is still recovering from having a cold, so I'm gonna hafta wait.

...And doing this has brought me to now. To writing this letter to you. How delightful!

I am going to go to bed now, though; it's going on 2:00 in the morning. I am going to be a zombified nugget tomorrow, goodness me...

Hey. I love you. Try hard not to do to your sleep schedule what I'm doing to mine, okay? Because you don't want whatever's wrong with me to be wrong with you.

I'll write again tomorrow. Stay safe out there. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

[dottymsatomic]

I Can Dream, Can't I?

The way this man has a vice grip on me. I cant.

I've been a die-hard Fallout fan since the '90s, playing Fallout 2 when I was just a kid. Let me tell you, Like Jason Bright and his Repconn ghouls, my love for the series has skyrocketed again in the last few weeks.

I'm very green to this community, but you'll have motivated me to dip my toes into writing my first-ever story. I'm totally immersed in the lore of the fallout universe, so of course, I wanted to create something with a tragic back story and very lore involved. Here I am putting out the synopsis to see if you folks were interested.

( Chapter 1 is 80% done, so you'll wont have to wait long.)

18+, Slow burn, F!reader , porn with a plot

Please go easy on me, I'm just a cinnamon roll with dyslexia.

I Can Dream, Can't I?

Title based on the song by the Andrews Sisters. About a man who will never belong to the singer.

Synopsis:

Death is the law of the wasteland. Tragedies write themselves into existence daily, and you are no mere footnote in this tale.  

Born a rancher's daughter, daring to dance with destiny by falling for father’s ghoul farmhand, sealing your love in secret vows. But fate, that cruel mistress, had other plans.

Enter the NCR, promising a haven free from bigotry and the stench of brahmin shit. With grit and determination, you embraced their militant offer, transforming from a humble farmer to the epitome of valor, earning the esteemed title of Ranger in record time.

Yet, duty beckoned, tearing you from the sanctuary you fought so hard to secure. As you ventured forth, your heart weighed heavy with the burden of leaving behind all you held dear. Alas, despite your valor, you couldn't shield your loved ones from the cruel hands of fate, watching helplessly as everything you cherished crumbled to dust.

In the aftermath of Shady Sands' demise, you found yourself adrift, a mere specter in a world's background radiation. Your life devoid of color or meaning. Aimlessly wandering the vast expanse of the Mojave, you sought solace in dealing cems and odd tasks, your spirit as desolate as the wasteland itself.

Then, akin to a rad storm tearing through the darkness, a lone cowboy sauntered into your world one fateful evening. In a daring move, you extended an invitation, sparking a dormant fire within your very being. In an instant, the world shed its harsh veneer, while his mere touch felt like the antidote your hardened heart craved for healing.

[annabthesolitarywriter]

Elenna "Enna" & Elerion

He's not really well developed as a character yet...but I love them together and plan to write many scenes about them in LOI. He's her brother, her biological brother, all that is left of her family. He's two years her senior and lived in Gondor for a whole twenty-five years without even knowing what had happened to his sister. He probably thought she was dead. And then Faramir and Aragorn summon him to court to meet her once Enna is told the truth about her family. Enna lashes out at them both (and rightly so, I think) and cuts Faramir off. She'll keep visiting her stepmama Finduilas, Elboron, Fae and Eradan, but Faramir will be cut off from her life completely. She'll keep loving him, but she certainly won't be around him. She feels utterly betrayed by both Éowyn AND Faramir and she doesn't handle betrayal very well. Contrarily to yours truly, she can let go of people very easily. Yes, she feels like crap about it, she suffers and cries about it, but she's VERY stubborn and once you lose her trust... well, there's not much you can do about it.

She will bestow several titles upon her brother but he rejects them all because he only wants her affection and his only wish is to be in her life in any way she wants. He was protective of his baby sister when he was barely a toddler and he's protective of her once he's adult as well. He'll marry Nîlubên, a cousin to Nûlbahar.

Faceclaim for Nîlubên: Leyla Feray (Ayşe Sultan in Magnificent Century: Kösem.

Yes, Elerion marries a Sultana.

A bit of info on their family tree.

Nûlbahar is Şehzade Orhan's half-sister as they share the same father (the current ruling Sultan) but they have different mothers.

For reference, this is Orhan (faceclaim: Cem Yiğit Üzümoğlu). He's one of the many princes of Harad—I think there's more than one—and he'll marry Fae, Enna's younger sister.

Orhan's mother is the Sultan's Haseki and legal wife, while Nûlbahar's is an ordinary concubine.

Faceclaim for Nûlbahar in case you have not seen my previous post about her: Nur Fettahoğlu

Nîlubên is the daughter of the Sultan's younger sister and technically is not entitled to the rank of Sultana since it's normally bestowed upon daughters of the Sultan only. Nîlubên is basically an exception. Her uncle loves her very much and gave her the title even though she shouldn't have it. She'll probably lose it when she marries Elerion, but I'd pick a quiet life in Annúminas as well. Plus, the girl is in love so she doesn't think about titles.

Sorry for the info dump, but I think I need it too as it is one of my ways of getting to know my characters. Stay tuned for more!

[zeyneppertem]

Anne neden anlamıyorsun hiç kıyafetim yok!!!

[insomniac4000]

Heyyy queen I was wondering if u can write a George clarke fan fic about the song bed cem or the song how deep is your love or the song never be like you what ever ideas come to mind thank u queen

Thank you for your request. Requests are paused currently. I've just got too many at the moment and I've got some personal stuff going on.

So sorry

[lgaeer]

How are u today my sunshines!!?

Today was a cleaning day for me ;/ What did you do? I just started using Tumblr!!! Write me anytime and let's talk<33

This is very comfrt picture? Yep or nope?

Today's recommended music↓↓

[amaiguri]

I fixed one of my old old Conlangs with the help of peope from my Discord server today! Arguably one of my first ones -- and made it... not suck. I think. I might tinker with the orthography more tomorrow but I am content with how it sounds for now!

The goals were:

Sound vaguely Norse & Germanic (and preferably more German)

Be borderline decipherable to English speakers -- kinda like how Beowulf is almostttttt understandable to us today!

Act as an intermediary language between my Ancient Language that I use as the root of some of my words AND my two modern languages, Nouveau Thuillean and Saegen.

Be rhyme rich to easily write poetry and songs.

Originally, Old Thuillean was nonesense words that was vaguely English and sounded Norse and Germanic. But it wasn't a very good intermediart language and certainly wasn't that rhyme rich.

And it was also just ugly to look at and sounded bad out loud. It sounded like what an American THOUGHT German sounded like without ever hearing it XD

I mean, look at this:

Ja yvjar, di ert saer og siec og siecles og siegsiecles cem lysfulons.

Gross. That says: "Last year, there were 1,111 green dragons."

Now, here's the new one:

Ot jathrsa ier, diar zara zaolr don colishe don zishe don thar die camlavh firnitian.

So yeah, the orthography needs a little work BUT reading it aloud already is so much better. Zaolr could be Zaulr and Colishe should maybe be Cauliche or Kolich and that "camlavh" is a little weird looking next to "die firnitian"...

Maybe "die Camlavh Fierhnaten?"

But the SOUNDS are correct in my head now. They are vibing together. It's definitely closer to German and still has some Nordic with J/Y sounds. You can recognize some of the words when I say them out loud. And it certainly rhymes more (or at least has near-rhymes!) -- colishe and zishe, ier, thar, and diar... 🥰

Now I can make my Sonnenreignen properly ☺️