#in which emma posts OC

[heyitslapis]

Here's a potentially fun, hypothetical way to describe your OC's personality/moral alignment; Does your OC wear a mask when they're in public? When/where? Why/why not? What do they feel/think about it?

[thirsty-4-ghouls]

Me rambling about my Dragonborn oc while sleep deprived:

Long post

I know what made Embla want to fuck vilkas, but what would make him want her? She is a mage who often uses stealth, but she does have great aim with a bow, which he probably would think is hot. Also she worked her ass off to afford a house the moment she realized she could give that orphan girl she recently met a place to live (I know her name, but it’s probably the sort of vibe impression from outside). That was probably attractive to a guy who went through what he did, if not slightly suspicious of her motives at first (because, again, his history).

I think I remember at one point him having actual canon dialogue about you being a suck up if you ask to help too often but she was genuine in her asking and probably looked like this 🥺 which I don’t think he would have expected if he had assumed she was trying to get brownie points.

She’s just genuinely going around like “after being bullied for years by my peers where I grew up, I’m finally making more friends and following my scholarly dreams! In an incredibly convoluted way” While also feeling like “I’m not used to people being this polite to me in public, it’s sort of suspicious and overwhelming.” She went from , weird kid in a small town who wants to be a mage, in Skyrim, and not having many friends, to people treating her better for multiple reasons. There was a lot of whiplash. She left the farm as an adult woman. She spent YEARS in the community she grew up in before actually leaving to try the college of winterhold and then getting wrapped up in the whole Dragonborn thing on her way there, after being arrested! For unspecified reasons.

And at some point, surprisingly quickly, she went from talking to vilkas and being like “I mean, he’s not the hardest on the eyes but he seems like an asshole” to thinking “oh shit. I actually think he’s kinda funny and not as bad as I first thought. Also, am I attracted to him?!”

I know that with that game it’s just “complete the quest line and wear the amulet of Mara and they’ll marry you” but I like to role play, really flesh out stuff where I was given a blank spot, and I like to pick apart what would actually make these characters act that way with her. I’m doing my best to get into their vague brains but I’m not sure I’m good at it.

And I mean, she didn’t even let them know she was also a mage until she had to heal someone and was like “that’s my job” which was admittedly very early in the quest line and it probably wasn’t too hard to learn about the Dragonborn being a mage, but she still didn’t actually mention it until they were in the trenches and someone was down. It was the first time they brought her anywhere so it’s not like she hid it very long, but she still didn’t explicitly mention it before that.

It wasn’t a secret, but she doesn’t always go around telling everyone given her history. If she thinks you might be a jerk about it she just doesn’t say anything, but she’s very bad at not using magic, especially when someone is injured. She’d be crawling in her skin if she left a follower injured for too long.

And when she did reveal it it was to heal his brother, so who knows what impression he got from the second hand information.

She was totally prepared for them to be disappointed in her using magic AND weapons, but then they were the opposite (canon dialogue and all that) and she was left thinking “huh? You guys aren’t, actually never mind!” Her headcanon/canon to me reason for joining the companions wasn’t even something along the lines of “I want to be an honorable warrior!” She didn’t say anything but her real reason was “these seem like the least shady people to learn how to do physical combat from around here. Probably least likely to just shoot me for asking!” She, again, has not had the best history with warrior types before the game started.

Also it kinda turned out that for a fighter vilkas was apparently (according to the game lore) sort of nerdy I guess and she thinks that’s hot. Which made me picture him watching her talk about magic theory and practice and being like “she’s sort of attractive right now” because that would be funny and interesting for their story.

I’m also imagining her talking about some quest she went on and him being like “holy shit” because her story is crazy but probably true. She’s like “and then I started arguing with a deadric prince because I thought their idea was honestly kind of terrible” and he’s feeling twenty different emotions, one of which might be attraction.

Sometimes I think about how he lashed out at her when she came back and they had been attacked without her, and how she was like “this cuts, but I know what makes him feel like that. I know what wanting someone to blame is like.” And then he was like “I’m going to go fight the entire base with or without you, but I’ll judge you if you don’t come with.” And she was like “Akatosh’s scaly balls, you’re going to get yourself killed! We’re talking about this later, but I’m going with. No, it’s not because I think I need to redeem myself for being gone because I was asked to do something, I’m going with because you’d fucking die without backup if you charge in alone in this state.” And afterwards he was like “I’m sorry, what I said and did was shameful” and she was like “I mean yeah, for sure, and it was hurtful and uncalled for, but I do understand where you were coming from, even if I didn’t agree. I’m honestly happy you took the time to yell at me about going with because otherwise you’d probably be dead right now 🤨” she waves her hand and continues “also who hasn’t snapped at least once about revenge? I mean, when I did it I didn’t misdirect my anger on a friend, but people do dumb stuff when emotional.” And I know that that isn’t exactly how canon goes, but it’s how Embla did and there’s not really anything that suggests it wouldn’t go like this.

“Are you saying you thought I couldn’t do it?” “Look back at it now, think about the state you were in and how you carried it out, do you? 🤨” she stared out trying to convey empathy and stuff and now it’s a discussion about how dumb the idea was 😆 he gets to call her plan stupid when she says she wants to fist fight miraak for being annoying. It’s fair. Even though she probably wouldn’t actually fist fight miraak. Probably. If he saw some of the stuff she actually did pull off though… we don’t talk about those things.

Also that post i read years ago where someone said he would probably respect the amount of work that goes into becoming a mage, even if he doesn’t agree with it. and I absorbed that into my headcanon as how he would feel about her a while into this quest line.

They both have braincells, but somehow she has the impulse control, which is impressive considering it’s her.

They probably share impulse control but she gets it most of the time when it comes to fights, let’s be real. He’s out there trying to stop her from eating a new plant just to see what it does. Her mage friends let her do it >:( when the other needs to step in she’s out there climbing on roofs to get a better view or he’s charging into fights impulsively.

[wildrangers]

Hello i see you're accepting fic requests, i have a matt smith fic idea, can u do a behind the scenes w matt and fem!reader where they are both married in real life but they're rivals on cam, and when the scene cuts they're like all lovey dovey and their castmates are always teasing them 💟 tysmmm!!!

Thank you so much for this request anon, I loved this idea! I created an OC HOTD character for the reader to play and kind of worked her into different key moments from the show. I hope you enjoy 🙂

Tropes & Topics: total fluff

Word Count: 900

“What would you call the husband of the Queen?”

“Well, the king-”

“There it is, then.”

“...consort” 

Your eyes met Daemon’s, fury coursing through your veins. His head tilted, eyes assessing you. “That seems redundant, no?”

“I speak for the Queen when I say it is not.” 

There was a long pause as you two stared each other down before “CUT! Good work you two.”

“Darling! You were stupendous” Matt praised, walking towards you with his arms raised. Mostly joking groans sounded from the crew around you. “Oh, stop it you lot.”

“I always forget how angry you make me when you have that fucking wig on” you tease, wrapping your arms around his middle tightly. 

“I could say the same to you, my love” he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your silver wig.

Your role on House of the Dragon was Anora, a close confidant and cousin of Rhaenyra. Given your character’s fierce loyalty to Rhaenyra, she shared a tense, often hostile, relationship with Daemon which you two delighted in playing as it was so opposed to your real-life dynamics as newlyweds. 

“Are you love birds ready for lunch now that you’ve terrorized the crew?” Emma’s voice called from behind Matt and you threw a grin their way. 

“Are they up to it again?” Harry seconded from behind them. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to” you argued and Matt chuckled beside you, his arm resting along your shoulders as you followed the pair off the studio lot. 

“Oh, so you don’t remember the post-wedding incident?” Emma posed and you felt your face warm as the memory flooded your mind. 

“Wed?! Laenor has just died!” you shouted, whipping around to face your best friend and her apparent new husband. 

“No, cousin, he’s not dead. We arranged it so he could be free and we could marry” Rhaenyra explained and your eyes widened. 

“You let our monstrous uncle convince you of this?!” 

“Watch your tongue” Daemon replied, eyes blazing.

“Or what?” 

“Or I’ll take it.”

You took out the dagger you kept hidden on your side, “Well come on then, Daemon. You don’t frighten me.” 

“Enough!” Rhaenyra screamed, stepping between you both. “Cousin, this was my decision he forced me to do nothing. He wants to better support my claim to the throne when the time inevitably comes.” 

“He will be your ruin, Rhaenyra. Mark my words.”

“CUT! I think we got it guys, take five.” 

“My fierce wife!” Matt cheered, picking you up and swinging you around as you laughed. 

“Must you do this every take?” the director questioned, earning laughs from the cast and crew on set. 

“Am I wrong? She was incredible” he praised, placing you down and lovingly straightening the wig he’d disheveled in his excitement. 

“Yes, yes, your wife is brilliant and we’re all lucky to be graced with her presence” Emma teased and you stuck your tongue out at them. 

“The most brilliant one of us is you, my love” you tell him and are met with another chorus of groans as you giggle and squeeze his hand in yours.

“Oh! And you can’t forget the birthing scene from last season’s finale, that one was iconic.” Harry added and Emma eagerly nodded their agreement.

Rhaenyra wailed from the bedchamber behind you as you charged after Daemon. “What are you doing Daemon? She needs you!” 

“She needs someone to prepare for war, I can do nothing for her in that room.” 

“She’s calling for you Daemon, not me! She doesn’t want you to act on her behalf, just to be her husband.” 

“I am your king now!” he roared, turning around so quickly you slammed into his chest, his hands gripping your shoulders painfully to keep you upright.

“You overstep Daemon. You are no more than her king consort” you replied, adjusting your stance and fighting the wince of pain wracking your system.

Matt’s face completely broke, false anger draining from it, “Love, are you alright? I’m sorry everyone but she’s injured, we have to cut.” 

“Matt, it’s fine I could have finished the scene” you insisted but your argument fell flat as your ankle rolled out from beneath you. 

He didn’t hesitate, one arm gripping under your knees, the other under your arms to lift you off your feet. “Where’s the medic?!” 

“Matthew, it’s a twisted ankle, not a mortal wound” you assured but his face was panicked. “Hey, look at me” you said firmly, hand cupping his cheek. His hazel eyes met yours and you could see him fighting to control his fear that you were seriously injured. 

“I’m not putting you down until someone’s looked at your ankle” he insisted and you nodded your agreement. “I’m so, so sorry darling.”

“It was an accident, I’m fine, I promise” you replied, pulling his face down to yours for a brief kiss. 

“We have to release this as a blooper, the fans will eat it up!” you heard Emma call as Matt carried you off set towards the medic tent with the cameras still rolling.

“How could we forget? It went absolutely viral” Matt groaned and you laughed, pinching his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get charged with spousal abuse” you tease and he rolls his eyes as the others laugh. 

“Keep it going, I’ll just save up my annoyance with you for when we’re back on set.”

matt smith taglist: @slayraxes-blogs @littlehorrorlover

I'm always happy to hear any feedback, message me if you want to get added to the taglist! I have a few more asks waiting that will be out soon 🫶🏻

[torantuga]

iii had an idea today 4 my alenoah dads au: an au inside of an au!

-> where the mudaliar-burromuerto siblings (mk and nick, who is not my oc but a design for mk's canonical brother that i posted on my blog a couple days ago ithink) accidentally find themselves back in the year in which total drama: world tour was being filmed!! and realise their dorky loveydovey gay dads were at each other's necks almost two decades ago

-> i probably will makee aa fic out of this if i get 1) the motivation and 2) the time to do it:-)

-> ii dont care about canon, alenoah in the present are almost in their 40s and worldtour was filmed way before 2010.....

-> i was thinking of adding some of the reboot characters into the mix as well but idk, mkulia'd be nice but i honestly can't see her being related to any of the cast members, maybe emma or priya for moral support? i'll figure smt out

[janeuary-month]

FAQs for Janeuary 2025

Janeuary 2025 is coming soon! Here are answers to some questions I’ve gotten or that you may be wondering about before participating in the event:

Can I join?

Yes! This is an open event with no sign-ups. You don’t need to notify me or get my permission. Everyone is welcome.

Do I have to do something for every one of the prompts?

No! Just one is fine. You can do more if you wish, or multiple works for the same prompt, but none of this is necessary. The list of prompts is here.

Can I combine prompts?

Sure! Just please note in your post all the prompts you’re using. If possible, post your work on the earliest day for the prompts shown in it, and we’ll reblog it on that day, but we’ll tag it with all the days/prompts you used. For instance, if you write a fic about characters staying in an inn (day 5) in London (day 15), post on day 5 and state in your post that it’s meant for both prompts.

Do I have to create my art/fic/whatever on the day itself?

No! That would be super hard to do—I’m not that mean! Create it now, and just hold off on posting it until the day of the prompt you used.

Does my fic/art need to take place in Regency England, or are AUs allowed?

As long as you have at least one Austen-work or Austen-adaptation character, you can stick them in whatever universe you wish. However, if you want to use all non-Austen characters, they need to be in an Austen universe. So, for day 11 “card playing,” you could draw Sonic the Hedgehog playing whist in a Regency drawing room OR you could draw Darcy and Elizabeth playing poker in modern-day Las Vegas, and either of these would be totally acceptable.

Completely canon-compliant works are of course also allowed!

Can I include non-Austen characters in my creations?

Sure! As long as you have at least one Austen-work or Austen-adaptation character, OR place your work in an Austen AU, you can include whatever other characters you wish. Characters from other media, OCs, reader inserts, they’re all fine. 

And remember that there is no bashing of others’ characters or ships! Accounts that do so will get blocked. Review the full list of rules here.

What does it mean that the work has to be new?

Basically, it can’t have been posted anywhere before. BUT this means that a new chapter on an old fic is totally valid! So is taking an old line drawing and coloring it and then posting the new colored version. That sort of thing.

And the work doesn’t have to be completed before the end of the month either, so if you have a long-running fic that has been going for years already and is going to keep going far after next January, you can still participate by working the prompts into a chapter or two during the month and then carrying on as you like afterwards.

Can I make [fill in the blank fanwork]?

Yep. Any type of fanwork you can dream up is welcome, not just fic and art. Crochet a bonnet for day 23 and post a pic of it, make a photo montage of yourself doing Emma cosplay, edit together a Bride and Prejudice music video, we love it all!

Is NSFW allowed?

Yes, with any sort of content and kink you like, but since there may be minors following this account, please tag it appropriately. If posting mature content directly on Tumblr rather than AO3, also use its community labels function and/or hide the content under a “keep reading” link. And minors—do not engage with content that is not meant for you.

Is AI allowed?

Absolutely not. This account will not reblog or include in the AO3 collection anything that was made with AI involved to any degree. Even if you just use AI to make a banner to go along with your fic that you manually wrote, we will not reblog it. Review the full list of rules here.

How do I post my work so it gets included?

You must tag the @janeuary-month account in your Tumblr post for us to see it and reblog it from this account. Also, state which day/prompt you’re following and use the hashtag #janeuary and/or #janeuary 2025. Full posting instructions are coming soon.

Should I post my fic on AO3 or Tumblr?

Whatever you prefer. If you post it on AO3 and also make a Tumblr post to link to it, we will reblog the Tumblr post. If you only post to the AO3 collection, we will have nothing to reblog, but it will still be in the collection for others to find that way.

I don’t post my art on Tumblr; can I still participate?

You’re welcome to post your creation wherever you like, but without a Tumblr post, we have nothing to reblog to make it officially part of the event. But, if you post elsewhere (Instagram, Twitter, DeviantArt, etc.), you can also post a link to your own work on your own Tumblr, and then we can reblog your Tumblr post.

I don’t write in English; can I still participate?

Yes! All languages are welcome—just make sure to clearly mark the day/prompt so that we can still easily reblog.

I’m not going to get my work done on time; can I still participate?

Please do! We’re happy to accept late entries! We understand that life happens, so just tag us when you’ve posted it and we’ll reblog it, even weeks later. The AO3 collection (link coming soon) will remain open indefinitely.

Also, remember that the work doesn’t have to be completed before the end of the event, just the portion of it that’s connected to the prompt. For instance, you can start a fic on day 31 for the manners prompt by just posting that one completed chapter, and then after the month is over keep adding more chapters to it.

How can I connect with the other people participating in this event?

Building personal connections between those in our fandom community is the best part of events like this, so while there’s no Discord server specifically for this event, there is the very active and positive “Jane Austen” Discord server where we can connect. Even if that sort of thing is not for you, please do your part to foster community by reblogging and commenting on people’s work!

Did I miss any questions that you still have? If so, please reply to this post, send me an ask, or send me a DM.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 1

read on ao3! (111k words) | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Story summary: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse.

Word count: 2k

Chapter 1: ‘Marked for Death’

Death coated the back of Juliet’s throat.

This was not unusual. The aroma of rot and decomposition was commonplace in the body disposal department of the Boston QZ. However, if Juliet could actually taste it simmering on her tongue, it meant one thing: she needed a new mask. 

The threadbare fabric tied tight around her nose and mouth was singed earlier in the day when her shift partner tossed a body, with more force than necessary, into the large fire pit in the middle of the square. A few wayward sparks had settled on her mask, gradually burning through the cheap material. 

Juliet often wondered how the sickly sweet smell of decay could still remain when fire and smoke cleansed the air.

It didn’t surprise her, though: death always lingered. 

It was hour eight of her usual Tuesday shift. One more hour and Juliet could collect her ration cards, find her way to the nearest fabric stall then drag herself back to her tiny apartment. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her today, settling in her bones and restricting her movements. Her shift followed a pattern: walk to the loading truck, pick up a body, place it in the fire and try not to look as the skin blackened and blistered. 

The same task, the same people, every week, every month and every year of her residence in the Boston QZ. Every day was a repeat of the previous but she was safe and she was hidden, which was all she could hope for. 

More bodies, more fire and her shift was over. Another day completed. Juliet used the stained fabric of her t-shirt to wipe the ash from her hands and forehead as she joined the ration queue. She was in line behind Joel Miller, a man who had worked at body disposal as long as she had, probably longer actually.

Tall, with broad shoulders and dark brown hair speckled with grey and ash, Joel Miller towered above her with more than his height. He was impressive, intimidating. Juliet watched as he stretched his neck to the side and wiped the sweat beading on his skin, his shoulders were tight, his stance solid. 

Joel had a presence difficult to ignore, being around him always felt like the air had a little less oxygen, as though he took up a bit more space than everyone else. He didn’t talk much, or ever really, just a few grunts and hard instructions grumbled under his breath to whoever was partnered with him on shift. 

Juliet found herself drawn to Joel, despite their lack of interactions. Her eyes would follow his movements as they worked, observing his cool indifference as he performed their grim duty. She would notice him around the QZ, too. He was a ghostly presence, often found haunting street corners and disappearing in a blink of an eye. 

Juliet knew little about Joel, only that he sold drugs to her weird neighbour who had drunkenly offered her some while attempting to break into her apartment the other night. She added another lock to her door after that.

“Next!” barked the ration officer, shaking Juliet from her thoughts. 

She took a step forward and watched as Joel disappeared around the corner, shuffling ration cards in his smoke covered hands. Juliet wondered if he, too, had grown entirely numb to their gruesome occupation.

Juliet wondered if something worse, something more ghastly, haunted his daily life. 

After collecting her ration cards and buying a new mask, Juliet made her way home to her crumbling one bedroom apartment. Home was perhaps a strong word, what with its peeling twenty-year wallpaper, mould stained ceilings and less than ideal neighbours. But it was her’s. 

Turning the corner onto her street, Juliet’s eyes landed on a hunched form on the front step of her building. Juliet let out a sigh, quickened her steps and forced a smile onto her face. Margaret was waiting for her.

Margaret was her eighty-five year old neighbour who lived on the bottom floor of their building. She enjoyed long conversations, hard liquor, and gossiping about the inner workings of her neighbour's lives. 

“Juliet!” Margaret gasped out.

“Hi, Margaret,” Juliet called as she approached, her plastered smile beginning to falter as Margaret struggled to stand.

Juliet moved to hold the woman’s frail arms, she was frantic, her hands grasping at Juliet’s shoulders, desperate to gain her full attention.

“No, you must listen,” Margaret began, before doubling over, releasing a series of strangled coughs and gasps.

“Someone,” she coughed. “Someone was here…” croaked Margaret while pointing her shaking hand behind her, towards the door. 

“What? Who?” Juliet asked, she had never seen Margaret so panicked before. 

“Oh it was awful,” Margaret began, once again clutching Juliet’s arms, her arthritic fingers formed in a vice-like grip. 

“I was knitting at my dining table, working on my sweater… I must show you Juliet, it’s looking so wonderful, I used…”

“Stay focused,” Juliet interrupted, her voice soft and pleading. “What happened?”

“Yes! So, then I heard what sounded like someone marching through the hallway,” Margaret continued, her words quick and tense. 

“I knew it wasn’t yourself or Kenny because you were both working. So I got up and looked out my peep-hole.” Margaret’s voice had grown quieter, now almost a whisper.

“And I watched as two men with dark jackets walked past my door and headed upstairs”

“Next thing I know, I hear this horrendous crash. Now, I know it must have been bad because I could hear it! And you know how terrible my hearing is.”

Shock covered Juliet’s features, their apartment building had always been quiet, always lucky to avoid the crime raging the Boston QZ. 

“Did you see them leave?” Juliet asked, her voice urgent.

“Yes, thank god,” Margaret answered. “But dear… I think it was your apartment they went into, and by the sound of it, they surely broke down the door.”

Fuck, Juliet thought. Her heart now feverishly pumping the familiar blaze of fear throughout her body. “Stay here,” Juliet ordered, her voice hard as she moved to release her arms from the old woman’s grip. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Please be careful,” Margaret urged, clasping her hands together in a silent prayer. 

Stepping into the building, Juliet paused, listening. So familiar with the hum of her neighbours’ usual routines, Juliet could recognise any foreign noise. But no sound was unusual, nothing was amiss… that she could hear anyway. 

Feeling somewhat certain no strangers were lurking in the building, ready to emerge from a dark corner and grab her, Juliet decided to keep moving.

Climbing the steps to the first floor, her body was on high alert; any weariness from her gruelling shift was gone, adrenaline now coated her muscles. Only a sharp, steady focus remained. 

Reaching her apartment, Juliet stopped, her feet frozen. The door lay open with three of her four locks fractured, surrounded by splintered wood and chipped paint. The fourth lock lay on the floor by her feet, where it must have fallen after being brutally pried from the door. Juliet felt a sinking feeling deep in her gut. Each lock had become an emblem of her security in the Boston QZ. Now they were shattered. A stark reminder that her safety was never guaranteed. 

Juliet reached out, her fingers grazing the fractured wood as she gingerly pushed the door all the way open, moving into her apartment. A deep breath and a long exhale later, Juliet stood in her dining area, eyes now locked on a piece of folded paper on her kitchen table. 

She moved closer, Juliet’s body had lost its stamina, her limbs weighed her down. Each step towards the yellowed piece of paper was like wading through dark, chilled water. 

When she was close enough to recognise the handwriting, everything stilled. The air, the room, her beating heart… all slowing around her. A chorus of no, no, no, no, no, surged through her mind, spiralling inward, forming a shield around the memories threatening to resurface at the sight of that familiar scrawl. 

One hand gripped the edge of the table, tangled in the tablecloth, while the other tentatively lifted the paper. ‘My sweet Juliet’ it read in writing she knew so intimately it could have been etched on her heart. Carved with a sharp, brutal knife. 

A high pitched ringing enveloped her mind, numbing all sound apart from the echo of her shallow breaths. Juliet’s ash caked fingernails traced the edge of the worn paper, she pulled it apart to reveal a message: 

‘Juliet, 

How does it feel living so far from home? Surrounded by strangers. 

I admit I was shocked that night you left, I wondered what more you could desire, out in the wasteland of our world, that I had not provided you with? I imagine you have come to the conclusion, by now, that there is nothing else worth living for than the love of our lord. You see, I have eyes and ears in places you could never imagine. My men know the power of our lord and live with his blessing every day. I sent these men to find you, Juliet. I sent them to bring you this message. 

I have your friend Ethan in my care now, he has taken your place until you return to me. I have every hope that will be soon my dear, Juliet. He, too, screams when the judgement of our lord is upon him.  

Travel safely; the lord does not bless the sinners of this earth, 

Your father.’  

Ethan… No.  

Three years, three blissful years only focused on her own survival, liberated from the torture of her childhood. She left Ethan behind, she thought he would be safe. She was wrong, so very wrong.

Why, though, had her father waited so long to find her? To threaten her with Ethan’s safety? His life? She must have hidden well, burrowed herself so deep in the mundane of everyday QZ life, that even her father’s men, dotted about the country, had not found her for three years. 

Yet now her nameless existence had come to an end, slaughtered in a matter of seconds. Juliet’s hand clenched, crushing the paper within her palm. 

She had to go back. For Ethan, she would go back. 

The thought alone made her choke on her breath, gasping for air in the silent room.

Experience had taught her not to take her father’s threats lightly. 

Her journey to Boston was monstrous. Juliet witnessed sights which forever scarred the insides of her eyelids, appearing before her on dark and sleepless nights. Could she travel that distance again? Alone? Knowing what’s out there? No… she would die and so would Ethan. 

Juliet stumbled to her moth-eaten couch and sank into the decaying cushions. She reached her shaking hands to her eyes and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, pushing harder until only a dark nothingness remained. Her life in the Boston QZ was over…for Ethan she would return to the man who haunted her every step, his existence always reminding her she would never be fully free. 

Reluctance acceptance washed over her. For Ethan she would return to her prison, almost assuredly never to escape again. 

Removing her hands from her eyes, Juliet released a trembling sigh. Accepting her powerlessness brought a distance from her emotions. The thought of Ethan and the immediacy of the situation had started to drown out her terror and regret, leaving behind a cold numbness. 

In her emotionless stupor, Juliet started to plan her way out of the QZ.

A loose floorboard hid a map and a variety of makeshift weapons, including a switchblade which Juliet liked to keep sharp. Both were now on the coffee-table before her, Juliet hunched over the map tracing her journey with the tip of her blade.

There was one problem she couldn’t solve: this was not a journey she could make alone. Juliet survived her journey to Boston on sheer luck and willpower. She would risk her own life, but not Ethan’s. She had to get there alive.

Her blade stilled, its tip pierced through the rough paper into the hardwood table. Juliet’s racing thoughts had settled on the one person she knew had both spent a significant amount of time outside of the QZ and had a route out…

Joel Miller. 

Fuck.

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3250

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️

@pinkwithhearts @jstarr86 @420days @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @bebesobrielo @hunnidmilly @zillasvilla @fearlesschimera @yana3sworld @skyesthebomb @xbriexx

13.

trinity_fatu, biancabelairwwe, zillafatu and others like your post.

uceyjucey: she knows imma spoil her ass rotten. 😩 tianasworld: 🤗🤗 uceyjucey: @ tianasworld wifey 🤍 trinity_fatu: JOSH WIFE HER UP NEOW! uceyjucey: @ trinity_fatu chill sis I'm not finna rush into that. biancabelairwwe: omggg Joshua stop playin dawg. zillafatu: you better wife her up cuzzo fasho 🫡 theyhatelani: this pick me ass girl uceyjucey: @ theyhatelani gtfo

Read all comments.

uceyjucey, theyhatekai, MontezFordWWE and others liked your post.

tianasworld: I love it when he spoils me😩🤭 uceyjucey: yk imma spoil you mamas with yo' cute ass. 😮‍💨 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey 🤭 theyhatekai: take me off the restraining order tink tianasworld: @ theyhatekai didn't I just block you? damn how many accounts you got? biancabelairwwe: bestie can yall get married now? Like I can drive yall to the courthouse to get it done I want a niece. 🥲🥲 MontezFordWWE: I see you uce spoiling ya woman.

Read all comments.

TIANA

Jey has been doing a lot for me these past couple of weeks, taking me out on dates, going to the beach, or taking me on late-night walks to talk about things. It just made my heart flutter, and I love him even more.

He was trying to make me feel stress free away from all the drama that's been circulating lately between his ex-girlfriend then to Kai and his parents keep bugging me about the restraining order which I'm not taking in off I don't need him near me.

Ever since I put hands on his momma he's been trying to get in touch with me to speak on the matter but I didn't have nothing else to say to him nor to her as well it was getting ridiculous at this point.

'Why his people so delusional just excusing the fact that he put his hands on me.'

I was out back smoking some weed. I took a few puffs before putting it down on the tray, admiring the view as the wind was blowing.

Jey had to go back to work which kind of made me sad and I missed him so much. I haven't really been at work or even check up on my nail shop since that incident between me and Kai including Emma.

But I told my clients that I'll be back soon due to personal reasons, and they all understood, which I loved, honestly.

I took a few more puffs from the pre-roll blunt as I blew the smoke in the air, and a satisfying sigh escaped my lips.

I pulled my phone out while scrolling through my social media, replying to some of my clients and others in the comments section. As I was doing that, I saw that Bianca had texted me.

Breezy sent 3+ messages Breezy: Hey bestiee I see that Joshua has been taking you out lately you deserve it tho period. Breezy: also ion wanna bring it up but his mama came over again today but this time we wasn't home I saw it on the ring camera. Breezy: when is yall going to get married and have babies already?

I chuckled at her last text message that I read she's so dramatic.

Tiana: girl fuck his mama atp because I'm over it I'm not taking Kai of the restraining order. Breezy: period as you should I'm getting tired of her too. Tiana: speaking of marriage and kids B ion wanna rush into all of that I don't want it to be a disaster you know? Breezy: I understand girl so how are you goin to feel when he does pop out with that question? Tiana: imma say YES duhh girl but then I'll be crying😭😭 Breezy: girl I am done with you chileee are you alone at his crib? Tiana: yeah, he's at work which I'm sad I miss my man girl Breezy: he'll be home girl but I was just checking in on you I miss you being at home. Tiana: Montez getting in your nerves? 😭😭 Breezy: YESSS Tiana: Girl bye you know you love him. Breezy: that's true but I'll text you later girly Tiana: byeee

I smoked the last bit of the blunt as I put it out before heading back inside the house and hearing the keys jiggling, knowing that Jey finally came home.

"Mamas? I'm home!" He shouted.

I ran over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he told me to jump, and I did while his hands were resting on top of my ass, carrying me to the couch.

He removed his book bag and threw it next to him while he kept me in place on his lap. I cupped his face with my small hands and kissed him on the lips.

"I missed you bubba," I said pulling away.

"I missed you too, ma; what did you do when I was gone?" Jey asked.

I explained to him about my day and the talking to Bianca about what she had told me before he came home. Him listening and watching me ramble about my day just made my heart flutter.

I felt him caressing my cheek in the process of me rambling which made me look away for a second causing him to chuckle.

Grabbing my chin pulling me in for another kiss but this time it was different. We made out as his tongue slipped into my mouth as I gripped onto his mullet.

As we continued to passionately tongue kiss each other, I felt him scooping me up from my thighs while taking us upstairs towards his bedroom, not removing our lips from each other.

He pinned me on the bed, never leaving my lips as I felt him removing my clothing along with his as his lips escaped mine putting them onto my neck, sucking it like a vampire.

As a moan escaped from my lips as I felt him rub my pussy as I continued to grip onto his mullet.

"I haven't even did anything to you yet and you're wet for me baby." He rasped.

SMUT WARNING He had my legs pinned behind my head as he was digging his dick deep inside of me. All I could do was moan his name loudly, gripping onto his biceps tightly.

"I love how you're just taking it mama." He whispered as he held onto my throat pounding me senselessly.

My walls were clenching around him as a groan escaped his lips gazing down at me. Watching my facial expression turn up every time he dug deeper inside of me, which satisfied him.

He leaned over to place a soft kiss on my lips as I let out a gasp when he pushed his dick deeper inside of my gushy insides.

He watched me tremble underneath him. "C'mon mamas you got it give it me." Jey started to circle his hips hitting my spot causing me to hold onto him tightly.

Our skins were slapping against each other as our moans and groans were heard all over the room. I didn't know how much I could take from this man.

My eyes were rolling in the back of my head. "J-Joshhhh F-fuck." I whined weakly, feeling that familiar pit going down my stomach.

I always felt very overwhelmed when it time for me to nut on this man. I tried to push him away by his stomach, but he slapped my hands away, drilling my wet cunt vigorously.

"Stop runnin' from me and take this dick Ma." He rasped into my ear feeling his balls slapping against my clit.

I scratched his back causing him to hiss as he rubbed his thumb on my clit which drove me insane.

He continued to grip my throat firmly, not trying to hurt me, as I felt my toes curling up while his strokes were getting sloppier and sloppier.

I was tapping onto his back, signaling that I was going to cum. "Use your words baby, let daddy know what's up." I loved when he sweet talked me  making me want to stop using birth control and have his kids now.

I felt my legs shaking violently underneath him as I let out a loud moan while cumming all over him. He kissed me on the cheek as he continued to sweet talk me.

Cursing underneath his breath as he continued to pound my now sensitive cunt deeper while I grip onto his mullet tightly.

Not too long after, he came inside of me, filling me up with his seed as a groan escaped his lips. Jey pulled out seeing me shaking violently while trying to catch my breath.

SMUT OVER. Jey went inside his bathroom getting everything prepared for us to take a bath together. As I lie there in his bed still shaking violently trying to calm myself down.

He for sure put that thang on me. I've seen him coming out his bathroom holding his hand out for me to get up knowing damn well I couldn't walk.

"Can you walk mama?" Jey asked.

"Yes of course Josh I can walk, hell no nigga I cannot walk sir." I said sarcastically while rolling my eyes.

"very funny tink c'mon I'll carry you." I held his hand as he carried towards his bathroom while shutting the door behind him.

Sitting me down on the edge of the tub as I attempted to get in by myself as Jey did the same thing. he wrapped his arms around my waist as me and him sigh in relief as the warm water hit our body.

I lay my head back on his chest as he gave me a soft kiss on the lips.

"How are you feeling baby?" He asked.

"I'm feeling fine love, more relaxed than ever." I said as I looked up at him.

"That's good; my mama keeps asking me when we are going to get married and have kids together." I nod my head while listening to him.

"I told her I didn't want to rush or pressure you into that yet until you're ready." I loved how he respected my wishes because I am confident that I want to marry and have his babies too.

I smiled at him as he placed a kiss on my thick lips  causing us to get caught up in another make out session but this time I was in control as my hand snaked down around his harden member.

Stroking it up and down as he threw his head back. "Why don't you come suck it I missed yo' pretty ass lips on my dick mama."

SMUT WARNING

We were still in the tub that was filled with warm water and bubbles as I was bobbing my head up and down on his dick sucking his sensitive tip.

Moans and Groans escaped his lips as he gazed down at me, going down on him while throwing his head back.

"Shit mama keep goin'" He grabbed a whole load of my hair, thrusting his hips up and down as he face fucked me.

As I was deep throating his dick I was circling my tongue on his tip while he pushed his dick deeper inside of my throat causing me to gag a bit.

He was sweet talking me through it giving me compliments and encouraging me to keep going down on him.

He pulled me back up, hearing that pop go out of my mouth as he kissed me on the lips. I continued to down on him deeper feeling the tip of his dick hit the back of my throat trying not to gag.

"I want you to gag on this dick mama, make me nut." He rasped.

I swirled my tongue around his tip as I gazed up at him, seeing him gripping onto the side of the tub while rolling his eyes in the back of his head.

It made me feel satisfied seeing like this since he always have me like that so a little payback won't hurt.

I had him shaking underneath me as he kept clenching his legs tightly. "Make me nut mama, make me fuck..." his moans we heard all over the bathroom.

I felt his dick twitching inside of my mouth as I kept sucking the tip because that's all I needed to do to get him there.

After a while he groaned loudly as he nut all over my face while I was tapping his dick onto my tongue in the process.

He was shaking violently just like how I was while gazing down at me.

"Fuck mama, that felt so good." He breathed out seeing his tatted chest going up and down trying to catch his breath.

SMUT OVER.

✧.* JEY Me and Tiana were cuddled up together in the bed as she was sleeping soundly meanwhile I was scrolling through my social media seeing everyone supporting our relationship.

That's when her phone went off not wanting her to wake up I leaned above her body grabbing her phone in the process. Seeing that Bianca was calling her so I picked it up.

OTP Breezy: Tiana? I need you and Josh home like now. Tiana: this is Josh what's going on B? Breezy: Malakai and his momma are banging on our door looking for Tiana and Montez is trying to tell them to leave. Tiana: I can come over there real quick Tiana is sleeping right now B. Breezy: Please Josh that would be great. Tiana: I'll be there in a few minutes B. Breezy: thank you Josh.

CALLED ENDED.

Don't this guy ever quit? Why is he harassing her people like this? I looked at Tiana who was sleeping on my chest peacefully as I placed her on her pillow quietly without trying to wake her up.

I put on the clothes I had on earlier, grab my keys, and head out the door, texting Jon.

Twin📌: I just got your message what's up uce? Jey: Tiana's ex and his momma are messing with Bianca and Montez so I need backup just in case some shit go down. Twin📌: where's Tiana? Jey: she is at my crib sleeping right now I'm otw over to her house. Twin📌: ight I'll tell Trin I'm heading out so she won't get worried. Jey: ight uce.

I was driving fast towards Tiana and em house going to handle this. I finally pulled up to the crib seeing his momma car there while they were banging on their door.

I got out of my car seeing Jon pulling in the driveway he came up to me as we dabbed it up before walking up to them.

"Aye, imma need yall to get the fuck on like deadass." I said while I stood there with my arms folded.

They both got startled while turning their heads looking at me and my brother Jon standing behind them.

"Oh, it's yo' bitch ass where the fuck is Tiana?" Malakai questioned.

"Her whereabouts are none of your business fuck boy, so why don't you and yo' momma leave, or it'll be some problems." He came up to me showing his strap something that Tiana was telling me about.

I chuckled at him then looked at Jon who was also chuckling with me too this fool think I'm scared of a gun. I stood my ground being all up in his face while looking into his eyes.

"You might wanna back up, boy, that damn gun. Don't scare me; I'll still beat yo' ass in the process." I spat, pushing him off, causing him to tumble a bit.

"Fuck you, you don't deserve Tiana I should've beat her ass some mor—" before he could finish his sentence I sucker punched him in his jaw causing him to fall on the ground seeing his momma coming to his aid.

I was on top of him beating his head in. I was not finna tolerate him talking down on Tiana like that when she's not here to defend for herself.

As I was beating his head in his momma tried to pull me off but Bianca came to my aid pushing his momma out the way as I continued to beat the fuck out of him.

Montez seen that ol' boy was trying to reach for his strap but instantly grabbed it throwing it somewhere meanwhile I grabbed a whole load of his hair dragging him as a threw him against the brick wall, hearing him winch in pain.

"Next time you wanna speak on Tiana you better respect her, and YOU don't deserve her like I do bitch ass boy." I kicked him in his stomach as Jon held me back from him as I calmed down.

"Calm down Uce, you know Tiana don't want nun happening to you." Jimmy said as I nodded my head agreeing with him.

His momma slapped me across the face as I held my face while smirking a little bit she was so lucky that Tiana was at my crib sleeping right now.

"HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO MY SON I CAN GET YOU ARRESTED!" she shouted.

"you and yo' bummy ass son will also get arrested for trespassing  and goin against the restraining order." I said as I felt my phone buzzing.

I saw that Tiana was calling me as I answered the phone.

OTP ZaddyJey🤍: mama? What's up? Mamas🩷: where are you right now bubba? ZaddyJey: I'm handling business right now mama what are you doin up? Mamas🩷: don't sugarcoat that shit with me Josh what's happening? ZaddyJey🤍: I'm over at your crib because ol' boy and his momma were messing with Bianca and em so Bianca called you but you were sleep. Mamas🩷: is everything okay? ZaddyJey🤍: yeah mama I'm handling it I'll be home in a little bit okay? now go back to sleep. Mamas🩷: okay baby I love you. ZaddyJey🤍: I love you too ma.

CALLED ENDED.

"Was that Tiana uce?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, she was wondering where I was at but I told her I'll be home in a bit after this shit is over with," I replied as he nodded his head.

We saw his momma getting him up as he was limping in pain. He tried running up on me, and I sucker punched him again, as he went limp on the ground.

"Damnnnn," everyone said it together as his momma was freaking out, tapping her hand on his face.

"Y'all can leave now, so I can get back to my woman at home." I said as Jon threw my keys towards my way.

I dabbed up with Montez and hugged Bianca before heading out back home.

✧.* I finally made it home as i unlocked the door with my key while shutting it behind me making sure I locked it too. I went upstairs take off my shirt and pants that I wore seeing Tiana sleeping peacefully.

I got underneath the covers with her, pulling her back onto my chest as I felt her shift in her sleep while rubbing her eyes seeing my facial features in the dark.

"Baby? Your back?" She mumbled softly.

"Yeah I'm back tink you can head back to sleep now ight." I said softly while giving her a kiss on her forehead.

I got comfortable as I put one of my hands in the back of my head while closing my eyes going to sleep.

Under Your Touch.

A/N: whewww chileeee they are doing way to much messing with Bianca and em' but Jey stood on big business also sorry for the smuts 😭😭 it was giving pretty much bridgerton with Daphne and Simon 😭😭

I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments.

Stay Ucey.

[the-ironman]

Hello, Tumblr.

It's @the-superoriginal here.

So, here's a Tony Stark rp blog (I know that they are quite a lot, but I don't care.)

Timeline? MCU post-Endgame. It's that expect Tony is obviously not dead, because Captain Marvel snapped with the Infinity Stones instead of him.

NSFW is not appreciated, which could change over time through, but when that is the case I write it down here. Currently it's just making me cringe knowing there's another person on the other end.

Violence is okay on the other hand. It can be detailed too. Just write it at best on the top then and make a cut under it. Don't want to accidentally traumatise minors, do we? Example: TW: Heavy gore

Current status of this blog is: Connections to other rp blogs. So, please don't write any other marvel rp blog 'Do you know this one?' or something like that. They most likely don't. Again, I write it down here if that changes.

@god-of-thunder-mcu (Thor (me))

@serenastank-official (daughter)

@emma-hope-stark (daughter)

@lilypad-stark (daughter)

@official-alex-stark (son)

@supernovastark (daughter)

@morganstark-official (daughter)

@baby-girl-stark (daughter)

@spideyboiiiiiii (adopted son)

@peterparker-who (adopted son)

@sammy-stark (adopted daughter)

@official-charlotte-rogers-barnes (niece)

@pepperpotts-official (wife)

I would like it if we would write in interactions third person and detailed. Like the chapter of a book. So, I know how it is meaned and get more material to work with. If we write out of character then please like this: ((ooc:))

That said... If you want to interact with Tony as a OC, like having a backstory with him, then please write me in private first so we can talk about the details or write the infos into the tags/post. 'Cause I, Tony, will act as if we don't know each other. I just can't/won't search for God knows for long for infos about your character/blog.

While I am not a part of the LGBTQ+ community, I want this blog to be welcome for everyone so please don't write homophobic, racism things and etc. here! We don't need to make live worse for others, alright?

PS: If you want to know what my other rp blogs are, just check out the pinned post of @the-superoriginal (main blog). It's written down there.

[juliaswickcrs]

HIRAETH

rating: 14+

relationship: robb stark/oc

AO3

summary: Emma Hightower wakes in a land that is not her own with knowledge of a future that does not belong to her. But as she learned from watching Game of Thrones, knowledge is power, and despite warnings about fate and defying the will of the gods, Emma refuses to let any Starks, Tyrells, or Targaryens die at the hands of Lannisters, even if it means throwing herself in their line of sight. Even if it means throwing herself into war. {modern character in westeros, time travel fix it au}

a/n: this has been on ao3 for a while now, but @bisexualterror convinced me to post it on here! please reblog or comment if you enjoyed it!

CHAPTER ONE :: OLDTOWN

She awoke on a soft patch of grass, sunlight streaming through stained glass, crafting a kaleidoscope of colors which danced across her exposed skin. 

Her dress held tight to her frame, skirt flaring out at the waist as it gathers around her thighs. 

It is exactly what she was wearing when she touched the white bark of the tree in the center of the castle. 

Her flannel shirt dangled lazily from her shoulder as she pulls herself up, spandex peeking through the short hem of the white sundress. 

The grass refused to stay grasped in her palms, sliding through her fingers like silk. 

It seemed to be the only patch of grass in this place, the surrounding areas decorated with black marble that covered the area except for a small hole near the top.

The stained glass depicts figures Emma has never seen, and she finds herself staring at a long-haired woman grasping a bouquet of flowers with her head down. 

Besides her stands a broad shouldered man on his knees, sword in hand. 

Despite how little Emma knows, something deep in her head rings familiar, the weight of her bag dragging her shoulder down as she moves closer to the windows. 

She glances behind her for a brief moment and freezes. 

The white tree stands behind her, although it is much smaller than she remembers. 

There is no face carved into it, but the white bark and red leaves are unmistakable. 

It is nearly the exact tree Emma remembers touching after hearing the screams and yells of Cassie and Alec. 

Her leather boots clicked against the beautifully crafted floors of the Cathedral. 

That is the best approximation she can give for the place she woke up in and for all her hatred of it, Emma cannot undo the religious knowledge she grew up with. 

Stained glass, black and white marble, the sounds of choirs in the distance…it’s all horribly familiar to her and yet unknown at the same time. 

The sweet smell of incense caused her to wrinkle her nose as she continued down the narrow halls, religious imagery and icons plastered upon the walls.

It does little to quell the rising nausea in her stomach. 

She hates the smell of churches, the close walls and hymns that accompany the wide-eyed stares and whispered prayers.

“Excuse me, miss” a deep voice rumbles behind her and she whips around, hair nearly slapping the man in the face. 

He’s tall and bearded, with wide eyes resembling her own staring down at her. 

The clothes he’s dressed in are of fine fabrics with gold threaded through the deep forest green of his tunic. 

The sword that swings by his side is certainly not something Emma would see back home, but maybe people in Ireland take live action roleplay more seriously?

That was the only alternative that didn’t have Emma questioning her own sanity. 

“Are you lost?” 

His tone was one she’d heard many times, where an adult would ask a question that was clearly meant to be rhetorical. But Emma had never been good at answering those. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Her eyes fell to the grey tower and golden flames emblazoned on his doublet, the emblem feeling unmistakably familiar “I don’t know where I am, I believe—“ 

“You don’t know where you are?” The man scoffed incredulously, crossing his arms and shaking his head as if she were a child, “I’ve heard many excuses from whores, but I do believe that is a new one.”

Emma’s chest burned at the insult, “I beg your pardon?”

“Come now brother,” A melodic voice interrupted her attempt to defend herself, “Is that any way to talk to one of our own?”

A pair of long nails attached to spindly fingers landed on Emma’s shoulder, cold to the touch and causing her to tense up. 

The man sighed, “Malora, I do not have time for your antics today, surely father—“

“Father has sent me to retrieve your issue,” The woman behind her spoke pointedly, eyes staring down the man, before lowering her voice, “Or at least, that’s who he believes has shown up in the garden of the Starry Sept.”

The man shook his head again, “You and I both know Father had gone quite mad these days, surely he does not believe—“

“You don’t know what he believes anymore, brother,” the woman, Malora, spoke with a sharp tone, “You are not the one he asks to join him in the High Tower. You have not seen him of late. He is filled with dreams, ideas that no other lord would dare speak aloud, and when he asks his children to perform an errand, he expects it to be done quickly and discreetly.”

Malora’s brother tightened his grip on his sword, jaw clenching as his eyes wandered over Emma’s frame once more. 

She tried to ignore the ridiculous thoughts filling her head as the conversation took place. 

With words like Starry Sept, and High Tower standing out and joining the emblem in familiarity. 

The woman who saved her from the insult steers her past the bearded man and Emma finally catches a glimpse of her. 

She is tall and willowy, with long dark hair that seemed to match the imagery of the stained glass Emma saw earlier. Her skirts fell to the floor, causing Emma to tug on the hem of her sundress. 

They were made of a dark velvet the color of the night sky, dotted with flecks of gold and seemed to move when Malora moved. 

As they passed the bearded man, Emma stopped and stared up at him, gathering every bit of vitriol she could muster, “I’m not a whore,” She spat, “And even if I was, you could not afford me.”

The man’s face turned red and Malora’s lips tilted upward into a smirk. 

The older woman unclasped the cloak around her shoulders, “Here,” she handed it to Emma, “Unless you wish to be mistaken for a whore again, I would advise you keep that on you until we reach my father.”

Emma stared at the deep violet color for a moment before dropping her gaze toward her short hem. 

She wanted to say no, to protest against the ridiculous standards they were enforcing on her. But she had questions, and she needed to know if all of this was as impossible as she believed it to be. 

The golden strings tied neatly around her neck and Emma pulled the thick hood over her long dark hair.

She did not know where Malora was taking her, nor why the bearded man seemed intent on following them through the winding passageways and sweltering heat of what was clearly a bustling city. 

As she held tight to Malora’s hand, a series of possibilities floated through her mind. 

The first was that she’d been dragged into the middle of a very elaborate LARP scenario. 

The swords, the fancy accents, the beautiful Cathedral.

It all made sense. 

After all, Ireland was famous for their beautiful churches and…unique characters but Emma had never heard of people being this committed to the bit before. 

The second was she’d accidentally stumbled onto the set of a fantasy show for Netflix. Ireland was a popular filming place after all, and it would explain why everyone was dressed in similar silhouttes and spoke as if following a script. 

But that would not explain how she fit into this whole thing. Unless it was like that one show where everyone else was an actor except for the lone person out of the loop. 

The third was something too impossible for her to contemplate. 

But it explained more than the first two options ever could. 

The strange dialect, the clothes and belief she was a whore, the fact that the city she was now weaving through resembling nothing of the Irish countryside she’d been given a tour of before with her friends.

It all made too much sense and yet none at the same time. 

“Look out!” Malora yelled and Emma turned just in time to see a wide-eyed man with crooked teeth and a knife fall to the ground with a groan.

Blood spilled out of his mouth and onto her dress as a steel blade punctured his throat.

The bearded man stood before her with a look of disdain, but all Emma could feel the warmth of the blood spattering her face and chest, staining her dress crimson as the life left the man’s eyes. 

And suddenly the impossible became reality. 

If it was a movie, a director would have yelled cut. If it was a show, special effects would have taken place. And if it was a LARPing session, there would be no need for live steel. 

She could taste the iron.

This was real. 

The blood was real. 

Emma knelt down and grasped the knife in her hand. It was crudely made, with a misshapen wooden handle and a flimsy blade.

It punctured the tip of her finger and she winced.

The knife was real. 

This was no longer a dream, nor an impossible option. 

“Holy shit,” She whispered. 

Malora grasped her hand and quickened her pace, the bearded man falling back into place as they continued downriver.

The water rushed beside them as whispers turned to bustling conversations.

Survival instinct kicked in and Emma ran alongside the woman, still not knowing where she was headed or what her fate would be when they got there. 

A white marble bridge arched across the mouth of the rushing river toward the jagged bluffs overlooking the sea. 

The waves crashed against the obsidian fortress which lay atop the cliffs and if Emma forced herself to listen, it almost sounded like the whispers of a thousand voices every time the water hit the brick. 

It was only when a door closed behind her that Emma returned to reality, gauging her surroundings once more. 

If this really was the truth, then she would need every bit of cleverness and wit she possessed. 

She would not win battles with swords or bows or strength, only what was in her mind. 

“Are you alright?” The bearded man seemed genuinely concerned, a far cry from his behavior before, and Emma forgot that she was now covered in someone else’s blood. 

She nodded briskly, certain that her fear was written all over her face. 

The bearded man shot a look at Malora, who was already talking with two men in silver armor with more swords at their sides. 

Both of them held the same emblem on their armor the bearded man did on his doublet. 

God, why couldn’t she remember what it was?

The armored men nodded and disappeared down one of the many hallways.

Several entrances poured out into the foyer, a large spiral staircase reaching up into the endless expanse above her, carved out of the same white marble the bridge was made of. 

“Father will be expecting her,” Malora spoke in hushed tones, the woman’s lips tugging themself into a frown, “And seeing as she clearly has nowhere else to go—“

“I will bring her to Father,” The bearded man spoke, eyes darting Emma’s direction. They lingered on the blood coating her face and something akin to regret crossed his face, “The least we can do is provide her with a place to stay if he decides otherwise.”

Malora sighed and squeezed the man’s shoulder, “Thank you Bael.”

Emma tensed as Malora turned her gaze her direction, only relaxing once the woman gently pressed her hands onto her shoulders once more, “You will be safe here. I do not know what my father intends to do with you, but we will not leave you to your own devices, I will ensure it."

Emma nodded, “Thank you,” She breathed out, barely able to comprehend the woman’s words. 

They filled her with relief, and even though something seemed to dance behind the woman’s emerald gaze. 

Emma blinked, and Malora was gone. 

Her skirts swished up the endless marble staircase, and she silently wondered how the woman held the stamina to ascend the staircase without so much as blinking. 

A moment passed, and the bearded man entered her vision. 

She caught a much better look at him this time around.

Auburn hair hung neatly to his shoulders and his beard was well trimmed. The man was probably in his forties or fifties if she had to guess, close in age to Malora.

In fact, the two seemed to share the same eyes, except the man’s were a much more muted color, resembling waves of grass instead of the cut of emeralds. 

The man seemed to be waiting for something, and it wasn’t until his lips moved again that Emma realized he was asking her a question.

“Your name,” He spoke softly, as if suddenly realizing his mistake from earlier, “What is your name?”

“Emma,” She muttered, still in shock, “My name is Emma.”

“Very well, Emma.” The man spoke, offering his arm, “Follow me, I’ll take you to meet my father.”

His father. 

Of course it was his father. He was a wealthy man, probably a lord of some kind. A deep groaning sound pulled her back into the moment and she found herself staring at a very unstable, very crude elevator. 

The man walked in like he did this every day, staring at Emma for a moment before gesturing for her to follow, “Well, Lady Emma, shall I inform my father you are here or do you plan to stand there all day?”

Gulping down the bundle of nerves in the back of her throat, Emma winced as she stepped onto the wooden floor of the fragile contraption, closing her eyes as the cage shut and began creaking toward the top. 

A tough grip wrapped around her shoulders, but she dare not open her eyes for fear of seeing just how high she was dangling. 

It was worse than rides up the tall skyscrapers back home and she silently waited for a cable to break and send her plummeting like the Tower of Terror. 

The cage shrieked to a stop and she waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

But the sound of a cable snapping never came, and when she opened her eyes, the cage door was open with the bearded man offering his hand to her. 

She stepped off without taking it, balancing delicately on the balls of her feet as she pushed herself through the frame. 

“I see you still take offense to my earlier remarks, my lady,” The bearded man dropped his hand while Emma attempted to stabilize herself using the stone railing.

“Women typically aren’t fans of being called whores” Emma shot back, unsure where her voice had come from.  The man arched an eyebrow and Emma gulped, forgetting where she was for a moment, “…Sir.” She tacked on carelessly, “The only reason you’re treating me differently is because your sister and father say you should, otherwise you’d still assume I’m selling myself, right?”

The man dropped his head in shame and that was all the answer she needed. 

Now that she was behind high walls and Malora had promised her safety, her boldness returned in spades, anger rumbling in her stomach at the earlier insult. The short hem and lack of sleeves was all he had to go off of and he’d decided she must have been a prostitute. 

After all, what other option was there for a woman in these times?

She wasn’t dressed like the others around her, and she held no emblem to distinguish her as the daughter of a lord or lady. 

“And even if I was selling myself, perhaps I had no other choice,” She continued to ramble, the words coming to her as the wheels in her head turned, “Perhaps I was abandoned and left in a whorehouse, or disowned and forced to find my own way. I would hope the gods would see that and forgive me.”

The words were too honest for the world she lived in now, but she might as well take one last moment of truth before being forced to lie for however long she remained here.

With her luck, it would be the rest of her life. 

“Well said, my lady.” The man nodded, gesturing toward a magnificent gilded door with the same emblem of a tower aflame carved into the mahogany doors.

It was obviously a symbol of great importance, and Emma wished she could remember what it was. 

“With a temper and a wit like that, I can see why my father is eager to meet you.”

He lifted the bronze knocker three times, the echoing sound followed by a muffled voice of similar cadence to the man beside her. 

“Enter.” It ordered, the door swinging open. 

Anxiety clawed at Emma’s stomach as she stared into the darkness before her, the only light coming from the flame of a candle burning in the middle of the room and the sunlight from outside.

She swallowed the lump building in the back of her throat and shuffled forward, the door slamming shut behind her. 

An older man stared up at her, silvery blonde hair illuminated by the flickering flames of the lit candles surrounding a desk in the middle of the room. 

Scrolls and parchment lay scattered about the room with books open to specific pages stacked on top of one another. 

Many were scrawled in languages Emma didn’t recognize, with drawings of scales and equations written in the margins. 

Behind the man lay a stained glass window with a seven pointed star, the ledge underneath it decorated with bunsen burners and beakers and lumps of coal under magnifying glasses. 

In the shadows lay a green powder Emma had no desire to touch and she tried to memorize as much as she could to see if it jogged her memory in any capacity. 

“Ah, the Lady Emma,” The man’s eyes twinkled as if with knowledge no one else possessed, “How wonderful to receive you. I am Leyton Hightower of Oldtown, Lord of the Hightower and Beacon of the South.”

It all clicked into place. 

“I see you’ve already met my eldest daughter Malora and my heir, Baelor.” He gestured toward the bearded man behind her and the shadow beside a bookcase. 

Malora stepped out of the shadows with a comforting look, and Emma’s stomach sank further, grasping tightly to the strap of her bag.

“Now that we have all become acquainted,” Leyton continued nonchalantly, looking unbothered as Emma’s eyes darted around the room putting the pieces into place, “Perhaps you would like to tell me exactly how you ended up in Westeros.”

She gulped. 

hiraeth taglist: @bisexualterror (lmk if you wanna be added)

[sunnytoonsproductions]

I'm sendin' ma gifts I made for ma loved ones in my tumblr family!

Note: these were posted on my now unavailable blog @eminsunnytoons123 but I'm postin' 'em here again ^//^;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first drawing was for Nia @nia1sworld and it's a drawing of my IRL self insert dressed as Alice and her self insert OC Nia dressed as chesire cat 💗🐱

The second drawing was for Nicole @0lemonadefox0 and it's a Birthday drawing of me myself along with Maxi (in his humanized design), Serial designation N, and Sunny and Madison while in the middle is a cake for Nicole 🧡🎷☀️ 💟🎻 💙💛🏎️ 💛🤖

The third drawing was for @fancytigercupcake and it's a picrew design of her OC Emma which she really liked, so I'll post it here again 💗💟💖

The fourth drawing was a collab drawing from Yuri @dackychansworldofhoshino and I included Sunil Roads (my co3k OC/character on top) for my side 💛🌅

The fifth drawing was a mini birthday drawing for Eli @cheezekennith in which I included Kim as Kagamine Rin from one vocaloid music video since I know Eli likes vocaloid 💖🪘

The sixth drawing was for Iggy @iggyguyy and it's a drawing of his main OC named Iggy himself 💚

The seventh drawing was once again for Iggy @iggyguyy but this is an Art trade drawing and he asked me to draw his OC Rita 🧡❤️

And finally, the eighth drawing was for Tina @nightkit92 and this was an Art trade drawing and she asked me to draw her OC Deborah while I asked her to draw Moony (whatnot Brother counterpart of Sunny) with Sunny and Salieri 💗💖💛

I hope y'all will like these, I may post more tommorow if I find more =^///////^= 💖🐱🧡🎷☀️💟🎻💙💛🏎️💛🤖💗💖💟💛🌅💚🧡❤️💗💖💛

[flowerandblood]

The Cherry Orchard (Oneshot)

[ students • modern!Aemond x fem!oc]

[warnings: just pure fluff my guys, safe space]

[description: She and Aemond are graphic design students, taking part in a competition for the best poster for a big festival in their city. When Aemond wins it, she begins to pay more attention to him, wanting to get to know him and befriend him. He remains completely indifferent, until he finds out that she can help him with a very important matter. Pure fluff.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

A competition was announced at the graphics department of the Academy of Fine Art. The task was to create a poster for the symphony orchestra festival in their city. The festival itself was called Musical Architecture and received a large amount of funding, so the first three places were to receive a cash prize. The winning design was to be hung around the city and represent the entire festival. Bell decided that it was the perfect time to show off her skills.

She created a poster design in which a simple, minimalist house was composed of only musical notes. She added typography in the background and was pleased that it was a really cool, fresh idea. The whole thing looked simple and struck with a strong, legible sign, which was immediately associated with the name of the festival. She took the printout of her poster to her professor in whose design studio she was studying, and waited.

A council composed of professors of graphics and representatives of the festival gathered to choose the best works. After a few days the results were posted, which were available to everyone along with the classification. Bell, along with other classmates, ran up curiously to see who had won. She looked at the list and sighed heavily.

First Prize: Aemond Targaryen Second Prize: Emmet Colren Third Prize: Anna Bernard 1st Honorable Mention: Bell Stark Second Honorable Mention: Emma Arryn

"For fuck's sake!" She groaned, rubbing her face in fury.

She thought that fourth place was the worst place that could be because you are so close to the podium and you can only look at it. She would have taken this loss better if the overall winner, Aemond, hadn't been a year below her and the others on the list.

Aemond immediately caught her attention. Although she saw him only during woodcut classes, because the workshops were common for all years, she practically did not exchange a word with him. He only had three friends to hang out with, but otherwise he didn't talk to anyone.

She was embarrassed to pay attention to him because she thought that he was handsome. Unlike her other colleagues who favored a light, casual style of clothing, Aemond was always smartly dressed, almost as if he were a student of law rather than an arts.

Bell often looked over his shoulder, watching him laboriously cut out his stencils. All his works more or less referred to the works of the old masters. He created them with such finesse and processed them in such a way that he added his own, original, ironic commentary to them. His prints were always perfect and clean, unlike hers.

Her work was wild and chaotic, and while she also loved Renaissance and Baroque art, she didn't have the flair for capturing detail that he did. She was too expressive, her gestures were more emotional and ill-considered, which in the end added lightness to the whole work.

She liked to listen to him from the side. When he was talking to one of his friends, Isabel, he told various interesting anecdotes about religion, culture, art history. Bell felt like he knew everything, and thought that he must have read a lot.

She mentally agreed with everything that he said and could barely stop herself from approaching him and asking him about the various things that he was talking about.

She didn't dare.

Looking at him, she thought that she could make him happy. That if he wanted to, he would find in her a friend, listener and companion of his scientific quest. Embarrassed and ashamed at the thought, she gave up trying to get his attention.

The professors of the design studio decided that from this year, the semester reviews of all works from all years will be held jointly, and not, as before, in separate studios. Bell was going to see Aemond's work for the first time as his design that won the entire competition.

When he hung up his works and stood next to them, while the professor began to talk about what his student did all year and how many competitions he won, she thought that she would burn with shame. She felt that he deserved to win this and all the other competitions.

On his poster, their town hall building was partly depicted as a violin. He invented the whole form, so that it looked perfect and at first you didn't notice the difference between the building in reality, and what his poster depicted. Everything was simplified and enhanced with a strong, decisive red color, with the addition of white and black. The poster was fresh and brilliant.

His other works, performed as tasks assigned by his professor also impressed her. He referred in them to his roots, the folklore of the region he came from, using the technique of cut-outs, woodcuts and simple gesture illustrations to achieve the effect he needed. Bell thought that he was an outstanding student and was embarrassed to have her work shown.

During midterm break, Bell thought about a topic for her thesis, which she was due to start the following year. For years she has been doing genealogical research of her family, sending letters to the State Archives and parishes, looking for birth, marriage and death records of her ancestors.

She already had a whole catalog of these documents, and she also drew her great family tree. She thought that she would like to create a book, illustrated by herself, dedicated to her great-great-grandmother, Rosalia.

One day, sitting in a woodcut class, cutting out her stencil, she was talking to Isabel, whom she had liked since she met her for the first time. Aemond listened to their exchange without speaking, bent over his work.

Isabel finally asked Bell how her thesis preparation was going and why she had chosen her great-great-grandmother. Bell had told her about it eagerly.

“In the parish records of my great-grandfather, son of Rosalia, Joseph was listed as his father, but I was surprised that my great-great-grand mother's maiden name is the same as her husband's. So I started digging through the archives and found out that Rosalia had died unmarried, and her husband's name was made up. It turned out that she gave birth to six children in her lifetime as an unwed mother." She said excitedly as she made herself a cup of tea in the shared, electric kettle. Isabel looked at her in surprise.

"So who was their father?" She asked, surprised. Bell shrugged.

"I have no idea. My grandmother told me that she heard as a child that they were probably the children of some rich aristocrat, that Rosalia worked for. I have not been able to confirm this theory." She said as she poured her tea with hot water that had just boiled. She heard Aemond shift in his seat and clear his throat softly.

It wasn't until she glanced at him over her shoulder that she saw him staring at her. He stroked his chin as if debating whether to say something.

“My great-grandmother was locked up in a psychiatric hospital by her first husband and my great-grandfather during World War II, because he wanted to marry another woman. I later learned that experiments were carried out on patients in this hospital, and she disappeared after 1944. Her hospital was bombed, but I don't know if she was still there at the time." He said low, indifferent, calm. Bell stared at him in total shock at this sudden words, and Isabel was also impressed by the story.

"This is terrible!" She said, terrified. Bell thought hard.

"Have you tried writing to the National Archives in this area? You can even call them and ask if they have documents from this hospital. They will provide information to the family free of charge, some scans are also sent by e-mail for a small fee. If you want I can help you find out more." She said softly. He pursed his lips as he stared at his work, deep in thought.

"Yes, I would be very grateful." He spoke softly.

She felt a surge of great joy at his words and the fact that she might have a chance to get to know him better.

They agreed that Aemond would bring his laptop the next day and they try to work something out together. They managed to find several articles from those years and a historian who dealt with the case of this hospital. Bell called him, but put it on speakerphone, so Aemond could hear what he was saying.

“When the area was about to be liberated, the patients were forcibly transferred to a train with cattle cars and taken to the interior of the country. The train never reached its final destination – which was another hospital. When the hospital you are talking about was bombed, it was already a field hospital. Whatever happened to your friend's great-grandmother, we probably won't know, all the documents have been destroyed. Sorry, unfortunately I don't know anything else." The man said, genuinely concerned that he couldn't give them more specific information. Bell pursed her lips at his words.

“Thank you very much. Have a nice day." She said and hung up.

Aemond stared at his hands in silence, shocked. For a moment she didn't know what to say and looked away.

"I'm sorry." She said finally. He nodded and looked at her, his eye sad, tired, but also grateful.

"Thank you."

They had exchanged a few words once in a while since then, but Bell had the feeling that there was a wall between them. She decided, however, that she would not impose herself on him and would accept that he apparently had no need to become more familiar with her.

Isabel invited her to her vernissage, which was to take place in a few days at one of the famous local restaurants and pubs in one. Bell didn't want to go there, she was tired and completely immersed in her thesis. She decided to grant her a bit of rest, and finally she arrived at the agreed time.

She walked inside and immediately saw Isabel standing at the counter with Aemond, both of them holding beers. Isabel hugged her, happy that she had come.

Bell saw Aemond look at her as if he was scared of her. He turned his head quickly, taking another gulp of beer from the bottle. They greeted each other, and after a while the owner of the premises began the vernissage with a few words of introduction. Then Isabel spoke, and people dispersed to admire her works.

Bell was delighted when she noticed her classmates in the crowd of people - Emma and Peter, lovely, cheerful, talented people.

They sat together at one of the tables, ordering drinks, talking lightly on various topics. Bell saw Isabel and Aemond join several tables and sit down in a large group with their entire year.

For some reason, Bell felt sad at the thought that she probably wouldn't say a word to him for all evening. As she got up to go to the restroom and passed them, she saw Aemond glance at her from afar, but he turned quickly back to talking to his classmate. Bell thought that she would be heading home soon, heartbroken.

However, Isabel approached them and suggested, seeing that many people had already left, that the three of them join them and spend the evening with them. They gladly accepted this offer, took their chairs and sat down.

Bell decided that she wanted to get drunk to mask her sadness and desperation. She began to tell Isabel about her childhood stories, how she was a mafia boss in kindergarten and no one could take any toy from the shelf without her knowledge.

Isabel laughed loudly, and with her several people who listened with amusement. She saw that Aemond was looking at her. He stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face, and she thought with shame that he probably thought that she was a stupid idiot.

People slowly went home and said goodbye to everyone, but she didn't want to leave as long as he was there. Eventually the six of them stayed together and sat closer to each other, Aemond ordering another beer.

She could see that he was already slightly drunk, but he tried his best to show it as little as possible. After an hour, Isabel and her friend said that they were hungry and were going home to eat something. Emma and Peter also said that they had to go back.

In the end, they were alone.

"Was this city your first choice when you applied to Academy?" She asked curiously, wanting to strike up any kind of neutrally safe conversation. He looked at her in surprise, toying with his beer bottle.

“No.” He said finally. “I wanted to get to the capital, but they did not accept me. I failed my exams and ended up here, because only here was there still recruitment. It was probably my biggest failure in life.” He said casually, looking at his bottle absently. Bell rolled over in place and smiled warmly.

"I'm glad you didn't get in there." She said, before she could think what it sounded like. Aemond looked at her in shock, swallowed softly, and looked down, embarrassed. He did not answer.

She wanted to add something and deepen her thought, so that he wouldn't feel so awkward, but a waiter approached them, informing them that he was about to close the place. They had to quickly drink what they had and leave.

They settled outside the restaurant, looking at themselves uncertainly, not knowing, what to do.

"Which way are you going?" He asked, without looking at her. She pointed to the main, lit street on the right. He nodded and said that he was going there too.

They walked together, and for a moment there was a long, awkward silence between them which he broke.

"Simon is imposing on you?" He asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, and she, surprised, giggled at his question.

Simon was an odd character in their year, who sought constant attention. He made himself an infinite artist, having a great opinion of himself. He also constantly tried to establish new artistic relationships, create a kind of bohemianism, be the leader of an artistic group that he would create himself.

“He offered to take pictures of me, using the 19th-century technique. I don't have any pictures of my great-great-grandmother, so I agreed to pose in period attire. I had to pose for him in his rented room and I have to admit, it was incredibly weird. He wanted me to come over later that evening to see him develop the photos, but I figured that he probably wanted me to see something else." She said amused, the alcohol buzzing in her head, making everything seem laughable to her. Aemond smirked at her words.

"You did right. He also texts me all the time, praising my works. He's attention seeking whore and he annoys me so much." He hummed low and she looked at him, happy and beaming that they were finally talking lightly.

She felt a pleasant shiver as their shoulders rubbed against each other once in a while. Even though they didn't have to, they walked very close to each other.

Bell looked at him, seeing the street that he should turn on. She knew roughly where he rented a room, because Isabel lived nearby and had told her once.

"Isn't your street over there?" She sputtered softly, pointing diagonally, her seeing blury. She saw him purse his lips at her words, repeat the mechanical movement of stroking his chin with his hand again. She thought that he did it when he was stressed.

"No. I'll feel better if I walk you home." He said after a moment. Bell felt a heat in her belly at his words, and it wasn't the alcohol.

They set off together, talking about light, non-committal topics. Aemond looked around her neighborhood, surprised as if he suddenly recognized where he was.

"Isn't there a church not far from here?" He asked low, evidently the alcohol had begun to imprint on him as strongly as it had on her. Bell nodded.

"Yes, right behind that house." She said, pointing her finger at the tower that was barely visible in the night sky. Aemond muttered under his breath, agreeing with her.

"I go there every Sunday." He said lightly, and her heart skipped a beat at the thought that he came so close to her home every week and she didn't know it.

He took her to the building itself. They stared at each other for a moment.

She couldn't help herself and just hugged him. He returned the hug stiffly and turned away, wishing her a good night. Bell returned to the apartment delighted.

Since then, she and Aemond had exchanged messages from time to time, often simply complaining about Simon and how he tormented them.

[Bell]: I feel like his mistress that he is cheating on you with.

[Aemond]: I feel the same, he fucks us as he wants. Should I be jealous?

[Bell]: About me or about him?

[Aemond]: Good question.

She pursed her lips as she read his words, her cheeks blushed. They used to say such sentences to each other from time to time, and she felt subconsciously, that even though they both pretended that they weren't, there was something going on between them.

They started going out together with his other friends to the city. Isabel always invited her, but now that she knew more of their year, she felt more at ease with all of them.

They sat down in one of the pubs, on a large, arched couch, in front of which was a big, round table. Even though there was plenty of room on the other side, Aemond sat down next to her. She took a sip of her drink, trying to hide the smile that appeared on their faces.

They sat there for several hours, talking about their professors, their classes and difficult assignments, unfinished projects and exams that were still ahead of them. The bartender finally told them that they were about to close, so they got up to leave. Aemond, Isabel, and Bell were walking in the same direction.

Bell instantly regretted her decision not to go to the restroom. She considered running into some bushes before her bladder gave out. She pursed her lips, feeling like she really wasn't going to last any longer.

"I need to go to the restroom." She mumbled softly, looking at them. Aemond looked at her in surprise and swallowed.

"You can come over, but I warn you, my roommates have turned this apartment into a pigsty." He said low and hesitant, embarrassed by his proposal.

Bell felt a heat in her lower abdomen at his proposal. The thought of being alone with him, at night, in his apartment.

"Stupidity, I live closer! Come to me Bell, I live around the corner already!” Isabel said cheerfully, not understanding that she had just ruined her entire plan.

Neither she nor Aemond could explain why Bell should go to him when she did live closer so Bell, disappointed, went to Isabel and returned home.

As she was going to bed, she saw that Aemond had shared with her via the app a link to a Facebook event about a lecture at the museum about Renaissance art, which they both found to be interested in. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that he had written another message underneath it.

"Do you want to come with me?"

Bell wondered for a long time if this was actually a date or not. She decided not, so she dressed the way she would dress for class - dungarees, a white turtleneck, and cherry-printed socks. She let her long, dark hair down.

When she got there, she was pleased to see that Aemond was already waiting for her at the entrance. She had heard him say once that he hated being late. They both showed up ahead of time.

They greeted each other and entered without a word, taking their seats next to each other. The lecture began, and she tried to focus as much as possible on what the woman was saying, not on the fact that he was sitting next to her.

After a few minutes, she decided that she could at least glance at him once in a while. She looked at him and saw that his eye was fixed on her socks. She blinked questioningly. He looked up at her eyes, a smirk on his face.

"Nice socks, cherry." He grunted and she blushed as she turned her head away. She felt her heart pounding hard, her fingers quivering slightly in her lap.

She tried to convince herself that she hadn't been falling in love with him in recent months, but she knew that wasn't true.

After the lecture, Aemond offered to walk her back again which she greadily agreed to. As they walked, she felt him slip something into her jacket pocket and she jumped in surprise, a smile lighting up her face.

"What's that?" She asked, sticking her fingers in her pocket, feeling the little ball with the stick on it. She took it out.

It turned out to be a strawberry lollipop.

“You once told Isabel that you didn't like cut flowers. That you'd rather men bring you lollipops, because you might eat them at least." He said, feigning indifference, looking at her expectantly as if to see if her reaction would be what he expected.

She pursed her lips, looking at him happily. She thought that she could kiss him now.

"Yes, thank you, it's a wonderful gift." She said, unwrapping the lollipop and immediately popping it into her mouth.

She could see him trying hard not to watch as she slipped it in and out of her mouth once in a while with a loud click of her saliva.

When they were in front of her building, she decided that she wanted to try. That she really likes him, really values him, really wants him. She thought it might work.

Christmas break was approaching and she knew that he would be leaving in a few days. She decided that it was the perfect time to ask him for what she had wanted to do for a long time.

"I'd like to write you letters when you're gone. Will you give me the address of your family home?" She asked uncertainly, her voice trembling slightly as she popped the lollipop into her mouth again.

She saw him tense all over, his gaze rising from her lips to her bright eyes. He swallowed softly, then forced out one sentence with difficulty.

"I'll give you my address only if you give me yours."

_____

My dears, those who know my private stories from my blog may have guessed, but - beware - this story is an exact reflection of how I met my husband-Aemond. Tomorrow we celebrate our second wedding anniversary. Everything I wrote in this fanfic really happened! Of course I condensed it and left out some important events to make it make sense as a plot, but that's how we fell in love.

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96

[callmewrinkles3]

Glitch - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: Emma’s never really found it easy to make friends before. But her next door neighbour’s grinning friend is easy to like. And flirt with. And text even when their schedules are so different. Maybe it’s a weird glitch, but she’s only young once. What could go wrong?

Words count: 3.2k

Warning: Fluff and more fluff, flirt all around, alcohol consumption and hangovers, swearing because we don’t know how to write without it, Blake being a sunshine.

A/N: Hi everyone! We can’t believe this is happening. It feels weird to leave our new little baby out in the world but we’re really happy and excited about doing it. We really hope you love our girl Emma as much as we love her. She’s feisty, fun, and hates Zak Beige as much as we do which is an Important Thing In The Future. We also hope you get to love the story as much as much we do. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoy writing it. Its gonna be a wild ride full of gossip, snuggles, media post and some angst. This is the fist of we have no idea how many chapters, but its gonna be more than two for sure lol Anyway, let us know what you think?? Enjoy and see you around soon!💜

—

Glitch - January 2018

At the start of it, Emma swore they were supposed to be just friends. That’s how everything started, friends. Daniel didn’t live anywhere near her so it was impossible for them to run into each other unless they made the effort to. But then she was arriving home at the same time as the new guy who’d moved in next door had, and they ended up becoming friends. So when Blake arrived at her front door inviting her to his apartment the next night for his birthday, she couldn’t say no. He wanted to warn her about the noise, be a good neighbor because they were actually home, and the invitation fell out of his mouth. And she said yes.

Sometimes she thought saying yes to that was her best and worst decision.

That Saturday night she didn’t think about it. Instead she got dressed up in a little black dress, put on makeup, grabbed up the nicer than she’d buy for herself bottle of wine she‘d picked up for the occasion and knocked on Blake’s door. They were friendly acquaintances, the Australian trusted her with a key to his apartment because he worked for Red Bull and travelled around the world on a regular basis. She knew his last name was Friend because of a post mixup, she knew it was his birthday, and she knew he sang in the shower. But for all Emma knew he could be the new form of Jack The Ripper inviting her out to kidnap her. But his friendliness made her believe he wasn’t.

As soon as he opened the door there were people around, a mix of his friends and work colleagues waving and introducing herself. She tried to remember names, smiling and shaking hands. Until she met Daniel.

The moment she looked at his curly hair she knew he was something else. He smelled good in the busy room, a beer in his hand and a broad smile on his face. Her brain was yelling that if she walked over to him she wasn’t walking away without something happening. So of course, she grabbed a beer from the bucket on the coffee table and took the empty spot next to him.

That was her first mistake of the night.

The second one was agreeing every single time he asked if she wanted another drink. The one time she considered saying no - happy to be tipsy but not drunk - his big brown puppy eyes made her say yes. That smile and those eyes were two of the three reasons she couldn’t help but flirt with him every chance she got. The third reason she flirted was his warm body was pressed beside her on the couch, their legs touching as they played Cards against humanity and laughed at everyone's awful answers.  

Her third mistake was going with him into the kitchen to get water for everyone, standing beside the window and looking out over the London skyline. She couldn’t help drop a comment about how he looked cute under the moonlight coming in, Dan grinning and then letting out the most perfect laugh as she rambled about how the stars and that night’s blood moon made his dimples look good. He found it hilarious.

She didn’t know that he thought it was adorable how her cheeks turned red every time he complimented her. She was smiling and he told her how cute it was that her nose wrinkled as she smiled, but she just felt her cheeks flush, heating up with embarrassment. But what made everything worse was the way Daniel brushed his thumb over her nose as he said it. It was an innocent touch, like a parent cleaning a child's face, but it went straight to her heart. She took a dangerous step forward wanting to do the same, but not trusting their height difference. Instead she pinched his cheek, dropping a stupid feeling “Shut up, Dimples.”

She wasn’t going to sleep with him. She wasn’t. Emma wanted to, but she couldn’t. They’d met three hours before and he was clearly close to Blake and she wasn’t going to ruin the one good friendship she’d made in her adulthood. Even if they were taking it any further, the spell between them was broken with a shout.

“Ems! Danny! What are you doing in there?” They came back in with the drinks, Emma raising an eyebrow at Blake.

“Ems?”

“We’re Aussies, everything gets a nickname. Is it ok?” It might have been the alcohol speaking, but she’d never had someone decide to just give her a nickname. It felt more like her than Emma ever had.

“It’s good.”

She had to leave before whatever had happened between her and Daniel started again. He knew he was good looking, she knew there was flirting, but the best thing was to shut it down then and there. She said her goodbyes and hugged Blake, shrugging off his question about why she was leaving so early.

“I’m meeting friends for brunch tomorrow, if I’m having mimosas then I don’t want to drink more tonight. It was fun, invite me next time you’re home for more than a few days.”  

She waved goodbye and closed the door, putting earplugs into sleep because every time she closed her eyes she thought she could hear Daniel’s voice through the thin walls.

When she got up the next morning her head was clear, but she cursed herself for not asking for Daniel’s number. The chances of seeing him again considering Blake’s work schedule were basically non existent, and she chalked it up to a night of fun and flirting. Daniel, however, had different ideas.

A scrap of paper shoved under her front door had a phone number and messy handwriting that said “Text me anytime, Wrinkles”. Until last night there was nobody in the world who had a nickname for her, now she had two. Daniel was the only one who would call her Wrinkles, nobody else had overheard that conversation when she was fighting herself not to kiss him. It took her more than a couple of minutes to decide to actually text him.

Wrinkles?

It took a couple of hours for him to text her back, and in the meantime, she cleaned and did a couple of hours of work. But her phone buzzed with a text and Ems wouldn’t admit to anyone how quickly she picked it up to check.

Coz your nose wrinkles!

Sure thing, Dimples.

That’s how their friendship started and sustained through the weeks and months of not seeing each other, Daniel’s job taking him away from the UK for weeks at a time. He spent a lot of time in Europe judging by the random photos he’d send on the weeks that their time difference wasn’t too bad. They texted almost daily, her favorite a picture of a plate of meat sent at 4am. When she asked why the next morning it wasn’t until mid afternoon when she got back “I’m in Austin for work, Wrinkles”.

Other times it was a YouTube or Spotify link to a song he insisted she had to know, and she replied with early 2000s UK and Ireland boyband songs. If he hadn’t sent her anything by the time the early evening rolled around she’d text him a check in to tell him what time it was for her. That always got a response of the sky, a clock on the wall, or one of the intricate watches he wore so she knew roughly how far away their time ones were.

Their conversations were short and sweet and random, so she never asked what exactly he did with Blake. She knew they worked on the Formula one team and travelled, but that was it when it came to work. Even in his personal life she didn’t know a lot. His name was Daniel, he was a year older than her, he was from Perth and he loved music. She knew he was in the UK a few times before Christmas, but work was insane for both of them so they couldn’t get the coffee that they swore they would. She only saw Blake twice, and one of those times was when she opened his front door to drop his post in and he’d just arrived home.

Ems nearly groaned when she got a photo of Daniel in an airport, his boarding pass held up to his face showing he was on his way to Perth for Christmas. The timezone difference was a pain, eight hours meaning his day was half over as hers was beginning. But the snatched messages continued, videos of him on motorbikes or running down the beach that looked like it was out of a film. She’d have lied if she said the photo of him holding his baby nephew didn’t make her ‘aww’ out loud. She couldn’t help but grin every single time he sent her a selfie of himself, relaxed and tanned and happy. Even if he’d been clearly working out just before taking many of them.

In response she sent him photos of her far paler face curled up on the couch, or when she went into the hot desks she worked from when she needed away from her tiny flat. He sent her photos of Christmas trees out of place in the warm sun, and in return he got Oxford Street lights lit up. On her last day in Liverpool for the actual holiday she sent him a photo of her sad face and rain wet hair, hoping for a kind word.

Instead she got a gorgeous sunset over the beach, the kind of photo that she only thought existed in photoshop. But it wasn’t the photo that got her, it was the four words and two letters at the bottom. ‘Wish you were here xx’. As soon as she read it she’d typed out that she wished she was too, sending it before she could regret it.

As soon as she got back to London and away from family she opened a bottle of wine, pouring heavily until the bottle was nearly empty. Drinking too much wasn’t her usual coping mechanism – that was blasting Taylor Swift - but she needed to quiet the butterflies in her stomach at his text.

She couldn’t fall for a guy she barely knew. She couldn’t fall for a guy who was constantly travelling around the world. Ems wouldn’t let herself get into that mess, pining for someone who she’d never see. She knew better, she knew that she’d be fine on her own. They could be friends and that would be it. She and Blake had started becoming Good Friends, she and Daniel could do the same. Plus, a guy like him would always have some girl wanting to be on his arm. It was alright. It had to be alright.

She’d convinced herself that it really would be alright, but then what Blake called winter break was over and he was back with a Christmas present for her as a thanks for getting his post and keeping his spider plant alive. As he was turning away from her front door he stopped, and she suddenly knew what he was about to say

“There’s a group of us going out on Saturday, are you coming? It’s mostly everyone who was at my birthday, some of the guys from work.” She was all prepared to say no when he pulled out his final line. “Daniel’s coming too.”

She took a breath, biting her lip as if she was working out if she could make it. But as soon as he invited her she was going to say yes, even if it was just a chance Daniel would be there.

Saying yes to going out was the opposite of a mistake.

Once Ems arrived at the club she realized she had no idea how to handle a full night out around Daniel and his charm offensive. He wasn’t even wearing anything fancy – black skinny jeans, a white shirt, red plaid, and a pair of black vans - but with what she was learning were his ever present rings he looked too good. She thought she could keep herself together until he grinned, holding out his arms and pulling her into a hug.

“Emmy!” The new nickname didn’t make it easy for her to let go instead of wrapping her legs around his waist and holding him close.

“New nickname?” She asked, struggling to be heard over the music even with how close they were holding each other.

“I know Blake’s calling you Ems, but I figured you deserved a proper one from me.”  

He didn’t just look good, he smelled amazing and his hugs were the best she’d ever had. They felt like being home after a long trip, lighting her favorite candle and sitting down with a burger from the greasy spoon around the corner. It was warm and cozy and familiar despite the fact she’d never had one from him before. It felt so damn good that it nearly hurt to let him go.

Emmy was so focused on hiding the electricity she felt from his hand on her hip as they walked through the club that she didn’t realize they’d been brought to the VIP area. It wasn’t the kind of place she’d usually go, a pub with a couple of drinks was her usual thing instead of loud music. But she smiled and nodded, glad that the thumping beat was quieter in there as they got drinks. But then Daniel and his friend were talking about how this was the last heavy night until the summer break apart from wins, that full season boot camp was starting Monday.

She knew she looked utterly clueless but focused on her drink until the other Australian who’d been talking to Daniel caught her attention.

“Everything ok? I’m Michael, we didn’t talk much at Blake’s birthday.”

“Em. Yeah, fine, just not sure what you and Daniel were talking about.”

“Just his race preparedness, making sure he’s fit enough for the g forces and the laps in Melbourne. Can’t have an issue in his home race!”

“Race?”

The group went silent as they realized that Em had no idea about Daniel’s actual job, and it was quickly explained that he didn’t just work with Blake. He drove the car for the Formula one team.  

“You know you’ll have to tell me the full story?” She asked Daniel as he gave her the very broad strokes, and he grinned back at her.

“Not tonight, but soon Wrinkles. Pinkie promise?”

“Promise.”

They exchanged the promise with their pinkies locked and a wry smile before Dan pulled her up to go to the bar for a drink. Which turned into another. And another. And another. Which then turned into looking at each other and Daniel trying to pull her onto the dance floor.

“I’ll dance with you, but that’s all that’s happening Dimples.”

They moved together, their own little bubble away from everyone else dancing. Daniel was careful not to touch her until she let him, his hands going to her waist and barely moving from there. They went to the curve of her hips, but after that they stayed still as they swayed out of time to the song. She wanted to get him to move them further, grab her ass and make it clear she wasn’t going home with anyone else. But even while she was tipsy as hell she found the strength not to jump into his arms, not to reach her head up and push a kiss to his lips like she wanted to. Even though he was the funniest and most charming man she’d ever met, who made her smile even during the week she hated every year. But she kept it together as they left the dance floor for another drink before going back to their friends.

Blake was her excuse to leave, her chance to run out and not drag Daniel home with her. It was clear they both wanted it, but it was a Bad Idea. Instead they hugged goodbye, Blake getting in the taxi and insisting on paying the fare when they got in. She said goodbye to him with a hug before collapsing into her own bed, alone.

What she did do was send him a text in the morning. As soon as she had the ability to open her eyes back she grabbed her phone and turned the brightness down to the lowest it would go. Once she could semi focus her text thread with Daniel came up, and she dictated it as voice to text instead of trying to tap on the screen.

Damn you and your fancy drinks, Dimples.

He hadn’t let her pay for a single round of drinks, as much as she tried to. Instead he batted away her hand with cash and held out his card, telling her it was fine. She was positive he wouldn’t answer considering she and Blake had been the first two to leave, but ten minutes later her phone buzzed again. Ems ignored it, but the third buzz meant she didn’t and made herself concentrate on the texts with Dimples. The pain eased as she saw the three messages, telling her to open her front door. Then seriously. Open it now.

She wasn’t fully sure how she managed to make it to her door, pulling an oversized hoodie around her for warmth on the cold January morning. But when she looked out her peephole the hallway was empty.

It was stupid to imagine Daniel would be there. She felt ridiculous for thinking he’d be standing there, even though he told her to open her door. But because he told her to, she decided to follow his instructions and pulled it open to find a brown paper bag from her favorite bakery sitting there.

It was mid-November and he’d been in Brazil when they’d been sharing hangover remedies and she’d told him about the lemon drizzle cake and Chelsea buns from a bakery near her flat that always made her feel better when she’d drank too much. Too many baked goods and a caramel latte from the overpriced hipster place next door always helped make her feel human. She’d told him as a recommendation, somewhere to keep in mind the next time he was in London. Daniel had told her he would, but she had to promise to try his favorite bakery in Perth that somehow managed to make the cheesiest focaccia he’d eaten in his life.

That was more than two months ago, and they hadn’t mentioned anything about it since. The last thing she’d expected was to open the door and find a bag with still warm baked goods in it. Two pieces of lemon drizzle cake, two Chelsea buns, and three chocolate chip cookies that were warm and gooey as she ripped a bite from one. There was a perfectly made caramel latte in a takeout cup, and at the bottom of the bag was a box of painkillers. There was nearly everything she could have asked for right there, and she texted him a slightly embarrassing selfie of her grinning face and the cookie she’d taken a hunk out of already.

The only thing he hadn’t brought was something to stop her falling head over heels for him. But if Emmy was being true to herself, she knew it was already too late to stop it.

[roleplayfinder]

hi! i'm cloud, 21, she/her pronouns, asian. i'm looking for partners in a bunch of different fandoms i'm interested in writing with right now. okay with dark themes (but not necessary), and nsfw topics which include smut (i love writing smut, but also not necessary at all). i'm more into writing oc characters on my side, but i'm down for doubling if you want me to write someone for you! oc x canon, oc x oc, canon x canon are alright with me, depending on what we talked about.

18+ only. i write in 3rd person, usually 2-3 paragraphs or more, but matching length isn't really required. i'm looking for partners who would be up for plotting and maybe talking a bit ooc just to gush about our ships and characters! any sexualities or genders is ok with me. i'm a big fan of mostly fxf and mxf!

i only write on discord (1v1 servers for us), so you can add me here if you want: dra1ningk1ss.

here are the characters i'm currently searching for someone to write for me! (against oc's of mine, the list is subject to change depending on my fixation) please hit me up if you're interested, or give this post a like and i'll reach out to you!!

DC COMICS (comics + animated shows + live action movies are ok with me): dick grayson aka nightwing, col. rick flag jr (based on the suicide squad movies), jason todd aka red hood

POKEMON: larry (from scarlet and violet), n (from black and white)

BLOOD OF ZEUS (strongest fixation right now): seraphim, apollo, heron

GREEK MYTH + HADES GAME: ares, zagreus (mostly based on the game), dionysus

MARVEL (mostly comics based, but ok with the live action movies too): remy lebeau aka gambit, scott summers aka cyclops, erik lensherr aka magneto, emma frost

ARCANE/LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: jayce talis, sevika, viego

DRAGON AGE: zevran, alistair, blackwall, leiliana

OWARI NO SERAPH: guren ichinose, shinya hiragi, crowley eusford

.

[yutopia-eleftheria]

Saying Goodbye to 2024...

2024 is coming to an end... What a year that was !

This was mostly carried by the start of the Eternals Series/Draw This In Your Style, which is not over yet ! But this is really something else ! Hope you will participate ! ♥

Also Inktober and Inkember were very special, especially Inktober since I didn't follow the official Prompt List (it was not my cup of tea at all this year...). Alterning between 2 styles was really challenging and fun to do !

Here are some summaries of this year, uncluding Summary of Art 2024, as well as Art VS Artist 2024 ! ♥

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Art VS Artist 2024 :

Yeah sorry if the photo of me is not high quality, the huge light that was above us is the reason for that...

Top Left : Azucena "Hisuiiruka" Rivadeneira, my One Piece OC and her Redesign ! (She changed quite a lot frankly. Also her Reference Sheet and Infos will come out soon...♥)

Top Center : Mao Mao from The Apothecary Diaries

Top Right : Baby Ana Lee Rina Quagmire (my Inazuma Eleven OC ; Right) and baby Naomi Garcia for a Collab.

Middle Left : Humanized Shiny Iron Valiant and Ogerpon. A gift for one of my friends' Birthday.

Middle Right : The Time Siblings, Tokisada (Right) and his younger sister Tokisaki (my OC) on vacation.

Bottom Left : Demon Kanao in the style of Kimetsu no Yaiba. Prompt for Inktober Day 31 : Butterfly

Bottom Center : Angela Douglas. Prompt for Criminal Case Inkember 2024.

Bottom Right : Chizuru Sengoku from Nijika/Nijiro Prism Girl.

---

Summary of Art 2024 :

A month in 2024, an Art posted during said month :

January : Emma from The Promised Neverland (whom I got a figure for Christmas ♥).

February : Chuuya Nakahara & Ranpo Edogawa from Bungo Stray Dogs. A Birthday Gift for one of my friends ♥.

March : Ushii X Tora from Juuni Taisen ; Zodiac War.

April : Eternals : Cassandra Dimitrescu from Resident Evil Village.

May : One of my OTP's : Bill Edward X Ryan Gray (Mermaid Edition) from Another Code ♥.

June : My Participation in a Draw This In Your Style Contest held by my friend that I love deeply ♥.

July : Sunset (my Pokémon Shining Pearl/Legends Arceus OC) with her Sinnohian Team.

August : "Humanized" Freddy Fazbear from Five Nights At Freddy's in my Reborn AU. Special Art for the Olympics ; Weight Lifting.

September : Messmer enjoying some vacations with his snakes.

October : Rika Furude from Higurashi ; When They Cry. Fanart made for Inktober's Daily Theme : Disability.

November : Gwendolyn Harper enjoying the Autumn Season. Fanart made for Criminal Case Inkember 2024.

December : Katerina from Monster Hunter Riders. Little Fanart made for her Birthday on December 14th.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

See you in 2025 with the Top 9 Instagram and, of course, the Fanart I did for the New Year ! ♥

[ttkinnie]

Twisted timelines - a Tokyo Revengers roleplay server

Hello everyone! I'm making another post in case more people want to join us, so if you ever thought about doing some roleplay in the Tokyo Revengers universe, this is for you.

We have two independent timelines, and you can choose three characters for each one. That makes six characters in total, but no obligation to reach the maximum.

Our two timelines:

Bad Toman Timeline: Kisaki's plan has been unveiled. After the assassination attempt on Emma's life, Draken took revenge on her attackers, and was sent to prison. Kisaki pretended to help him get out of jail, paying the lawyers, but Mikey found out through a recording made by Sanzu.

As a result, Mikey threw Kisaki out of Toman. He is now trying to repair the damage the gang has suffered at Kisaki's hands, while defending from the other gangs challenging his authority. On the other side, Kisaki is planning his revenge.

Available characters: Emma, Yuzuha, Kazutora, Mocchi, Mucho, Benkei, Takeomi, Peh-yan and Pah-chin, the Kawata twins and the Mizo Middle Five outside of Takemichi.

Future Timeline: Takemichi and Mikey went back to the past and tried their best to keep everyone alive. But alive doesn't mean happy. It's 2017 now, and in six months Takemichi and Hinata are getting married, but life hasn't been kind to the people he tried to save.

In the end, despite Mikey and Takemichi's efforts, everyone in the final timeline is unhappy in some way. It's up to the roleplayer to pick which character flaw or issue they want them to have.

Available characters: Yuzuha, Kakucho, Inui, Mocchi, Emma, the Mizo Middle five outside of Takemichi, Senju, Benkei, Wakasa, Takeomi, South, the Kawata twins, Mucho, Pah-chin and Peh-yan.

What we offer:

Active roleplayers

Out of roleplay chatting

Monthly events (gift exchanges, extra plot week, board game nights and many more!)

Crack roleplay and chat channels for everyone

Some general rules we have:

Be respectful: no spamming, no insults, no godmodding, no pressuring people for replies. We all love roleplaying but don't forget we have a life outside the internet

Stay active, we ask for at least one interaction per week. Of course that limit is theoretical, we won't throw anyone out if life gets in the way or they want to take a hiatus!

No one-liners, except for chat groups or the crack roleplay

We do not allow OCs in our roleplay, but we of course include potential npcs.

Try to come up with unexpected plots, let your characters go wild!

Fair warning: the server is 18+ only and contains dead dove content. Trigger warnings are to be respected, and no one has to interact with subjects they don't want to.

Leave a like if you're interested and I'll get back to you!

[animalsalvationassociation]

Hey Octonauts community! I need your help! 😘

So apparently I’ve gotten myself sick again, shocker, I know. So with the energy I have I’d like to know what you guys want me to post on the blog this week. I have some things lined up but I’ve been stuck trying to figure out what my, albeit lower, energy levels should go into.

Here’s some options, and please keep in mind depending on which one we pick also decides when it comes out. So it may not end up being posted on our usual Tuesdays.

(Keep in mind, everyone will have a chance to vote. If we don’t have enough people on the poll before it ends I’ll repost it)