#nella writes

[mudisgranapat]

This is so Simon Riley as a boys dad coded.

Yes Simon is very girl dad coded BUT i imagine him as wanting a big family (3-4 kids) once he decided to start a family (I picture 2 older boys and twin baby girls😭).

He never thought about having kids, with his past and his profession, but that all changes once you two meet. And then, after the first kid, he just can’t get enough of it. All he can think about is how good you look carrying his babies and caring for them.

He loves getting home to the absolute chaos of children running around in every direction, laughter and yells echoing in the house. The first thing he would do is draw you a bath, bring a glass of your favourite drink and let you rest while he gets the kids ready for bed. He would then give you a massage once the kids are sleeping, telling you how good you look taking care of his children.

In the morning, the would let you sleep in, having the boys set the table while he does the girls’ hair, clipping multi-colour hair clips all over their head. He would wake you up once the kids are ready, table is set and he has started cooking breakfast.

During the week, he was the one that got the kids under control, teaching them young the discipline of a soldier. He would have them do chores around the house and learn how to do things by themselves from a young age.

But during weekends… it was total chaos. You would lay on the couch, reading a book and drinking some tea your husband made, while your kids ran around in every direction. Sometimes they would play tag, the four of them running trying to catch Simon. Other times, they would play football in the backyard (and sometimes inside the house, until you give Simon a warning look).

But their FAVOURITE game was special ops. Simon would hide while the kids looked for him, covered in toy gear from head to toe. Obviously, wearing masks, just like their daddy. They would wreak havoc, sponge bullets flying in every direction, and Simon would not spare them.

He would jump from balconies, hide in bushes, even going as far as setting up cameras to surprise them. Most of the time, you would just watch in awe, laughing your ass of. On some occasions, you would secretly form and alliance with your husband, hiding a small water gun under the couch pillow, jumping the kids when they eventually came to you for help, trying to bribe Simon’s location out of you with snacks.

By the end of the day, you would all be exhausted from running around the house. After everyone was showered and changed, you would lay on the couch together. You would cuddle into Simon’s chest while the kids found a spare limb to burrow under. The girls always pick the movie, and the six of you would fall asleep on the couch, one of the girls clutching Simon’s “Ghost” mask. He would chuckle to himself, thinking about how never, in a million years, he thought Ghost would bring so much happiness into the world.

[nellasbookplanet]

Finally my portal fic has been finished! For anyone wanting a bit of toxic chelldos, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

Chapters: 17/17 Fandom: Portal (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chell/GLaDOS (Portal) Characters: Chell (Portal), Mel (Portal), GLaDOS (Portal), Virgil (Portal), Emilia Conly (Portal), Wheatley (Portal), Stirling (Portal) Additional Tags: Post-Game: Portal 2, welcome to the ‘fucked up women making each other worse’ show, also featuring some spherical men and a sentient roomba, chell and glados can be read as romantic or platonic but WILL be read as obsessed and repressed, and also weird as fuck, contains spoilers for the main games (including co-op) as well as several fan made mods, let's examine the line between man and machine, and the inherent horror in stepping over it, Enemies to Lovers, well. Sort of

After coming across a strange device and a message calling for help in the ruins of the outside world, Chell finds herself heading back to Aperture, this time in the company of a fellow survivor.

But in returning, will she ever be able to escape the clutches of Glados – and of the Facility itself?

[menkya-and-charon]

Random Nella x Qi doodle ✨️

[severitus-insp]

I might regret this, but I'm in a mood tonight and decided to go ahead and post the first couple chapters of my fic...

Nella Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Nella Rose Potter, the Girl Who Lived.

Under the stairs at the moment, though not for long. She's about to receive a letter that will make things a whole lot worse before they get better.

“I am not in the habit of returning house points once they have been lost, Miss Potter. Among us little people at least, actions have consequences.”

“It’s not that, sir,” she hastened to explain, ruthlessly shoving down her anger in favor of quiet subservience. It was no different than mollifying Uncle Vernon after one of his tirades. She'd managed to get a ride to the train station out of him; she’d get help with her trunk out of Snape. “I understand. I just, well, I live with my aunt and uncle, you see. They’re muggles.”

Snape scowled some more, but he nodded his understanding, so she plowed on, hoping he’d ask this few questions the whole time.

“Well, they don’t really understand about magic and… stuff. They don’t like it. And, well, before school started, they, er, they wrecked some of my school things.”

Snape’s posture softened slightly, and Nella took that as an encouraging sign. “You live with Petunia?” he asked, lip curling in disgust.

[dimdiamond]

Just read The Miniaturist and I have never read a book that made me cry but still disappointed me so much.

[claritys-silly-things]

I always liked the character trope of angel falling for a human and NOW I GET TO DO THAT HELL YEAH

[a---fire---inside]

"Una Vita Intera: questa è una canzone che descrive l'equilibrio interiore che si genera quando sai quello che vuoi da chi hai scelto. Anzi, lo desideri con tutto te stesso. Perché sei sicuro di quello che hai davanti. Sei sicuro dell'amore che provi e sei sicuro che quella persona è e sarà per sempre la tua strada. Quando provi questo tipo di amore allora puoi scavalcare ogni muro e affrontare ogni tipo di difficoltà, perché quando tutto è trasparente allora diventi molto più forte." Fabrizio Moro

"Una Vita Intera: this song describes the inner balance created when you know what you want from whom you chose. In fact you want it with all your whole being. Because you're sure of what you have in front of you, you're sure of the love you feel and you're sure that that person will and will forever be your road. When you feel this kind of love you can climb over any wall and face every kind of hardship, because when everything is transparent then you become much stronger" Fabrizio Moro

[avemstella]

MY SON MY CHILDE MY BOY!!!! I'm so excited u don't understand whooooooo!!! I'm so ready for him to cause the fake french maybe also british (or even spanish, honestly vaguely 'western' european) people so many issues.

I can imagine in my heart of hearts off screen he is causing one totally canon Lieutenant Claude Anouilh of the Fontaine Armed Forces endless issues. I can believe.

But in all seriousness I'm super interested in this because of the potential for some more Harbinger interaction. Other than Siggy and him (and some implied mostly off screen interactions) we really don't have any and Arlecchino in particular is also there. She and Childe have some honestly super fascinating contradictory beliefs in child raising (childe does anything to keep their innocence while she seemingly raises them so they would be prepared for anything regardless of what they have to go through). Other than Pulcinella and Columbina (though all 3 for very different reasons), Arlecchino is definitely the one I'm most interested in seeing interact with Childe.

[who-needs-words]

Closing out 2023 with some sapphic elves. Enjoy.

It’s Lalwen/Nellas because I love nothing more than forgotten and overlooked elves.

[booksandabeer]

I'm putting something together for work on the flaws and limitations of ChatGPT and for funsies I asked it to write me a little something about Steve Rogers and disability. Well, if you already had doubts about the factual accuracy and/or thematic depth of this "marvelous" tool, enjoy:

WTF???

It can't even get basic plot and character details right. I also asked it to provide some sources on the topic and it did—a whole list of references, perfectly formatted! It's just a shame that none of them actually exist.

Also, the language here?

Yeah. Not great, Bob!

[mudisgranapat]

Civilian!Reader X BF!Simon

Imagine Simon being secretly obsessed with you

You and Simon met at a bar while he was out with Jhonny. Soap tried to get your number, but you had just broken up with your boyfriend, so you weren’t ready to move on. You let him buy you a drink, later sitting on the table with him and Simon, since the small place was crowded and you didn’t feel like standing up. After a couple of rounds, you’re talking about how your ex-boyfriend cheated on you, and Soap won’t stop saying he could help you forget him if you would just let him get between your legs.

You politely decline, and the three of you spend the rest of the night drinking and laughing, getting along surprisingly well. Although Simon is more social after a few beers, he’s still not much of a talker, preferring to spend most of the night listening to you and Jhonny talking. By the end of the night, Jhonny ends up getting your number after all, but so does Simon. You tell them you just moved into town, and could use some company.

With time, the three of you become friends, and you are later introduced to Kyle and Price during one of the many nights you meet Simon and Jhonny for drinks at the same bar. You never understand what exactly they do, but you don’t really care, it is nice to have some friends for a change (even if they are oddly secretive men with incredible muscles) .

Soap never misses a chance to flirt with you, even though he is well aware that, by now, he is deep into the friendzone.

Simon, on the other hand, spends the whole night listening to you, never once making an inappropriate advance. A perfect gentleman. No matter how small the problem, he’ll notice right away when something is bothering you. “What’s the matter, love? Someone at work giving you a hard time?” He’ll ask, using his fingers to tilt your chin up and look you in the eye. You sit beside him on the crowded bar, and tell him all about your problems. You rant about how your boss is too demanding, how the coffee from the shop you get your daily dose of caffeine from is getting too expensive and how you car is making a weird noise. Simon listens to you, nodding along the conversation and taking long sips from his beer.

The next day when you go to work, you notice the sudden silence that surrounds you on your drive, realising only a few minutes later that the weird metal clanking that used to come from the back of your car is gone. Your day gets even better when you stop at the coffee shop across from work and see that they were lowering the price of drinks due to “management changes”. You don’t even bother asking what that means, simply strolling into work with a smile on your face, ready to tackle all the issues your boss is bound to raise about the last stack of paperwork you handed him. But when you open your email, you’re shocked to see that all that your boss had to say was “Keep up with the good work”.

You immediately text Simon about how your problems seem to be melting away since you last talked to him. He’s pleased to hear that, and tells you that he’s always available for you if you need to talk. You come to the conclusion that talking to him and putting your problems out into the universe is manifesting some serious luck into your life.

Simon becomes your lucky charm. You don’t know what it is, but just talking to him seems to make all problems go away. Suddenly, there isn’t a part of your life you haven’t shared with him. From family problems to leaking sinks, he’s listening to you with a cigarette on his mouth, always looking into your eyes like you’re the only person in the world.

“Seriously, Simon. Thank you so much for listening to me complain all the time. I don’t know what I would do without you. Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person I can talk to.” You tell him one day over a cup of tea, after confessing to him that your ex-boyfriend had been stalking you for the last few days, but that you were too scared to go to the police.

“I’ll always be here for you, love.” He says as he wipes a stray tear from your cheeks. You feel them heat up at Simon’s sudden contact. What you don’t sense is the possessiveness that hides behind his words, the warmth that floods his eyes when he looks at you, only to quickly fade away when his eyes divert. Simon smiles, his face concealed by his mask, and the crinkle in his eyes translates to you a kindness that deceives the desire that seeps from his mouth.

Because, oh, how you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little angel, who now can’t go through a mild inconvenience without talking to him. Who isn’t afraid to confess her darkest secrets to him, and let him into her life without any hesitation.

Since he first saw you at the bar, he couldn’t believe how naive you were. Immediately telling him where you lived, how long you had been into town for and that you didn’t have many friends, since you had transferred in for work and your boss made you stay extra hours. You had no idea how dangerous of a man he was. Simon couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to control you, to make you all his. While Soap distracted you with his nonsense flirting, Simon indulged himself wondering how long it would take to manipulate you into thinking you needed him, and how good it would feel when you finally gave yourself up to him. His obsession grew, and there wasn’t a night where he didn’t think of you on your knees in front of him, a pretty thing, reduced to his worshipper.

He wanted you to need him, to crave him, to be addicted to his words and to his touch. So he listened to you, he let you cry on his shoulder and hug him when you were lonely, he picked up every time you called and answered your messages with meaningful words. He played the long game, and now there you were in front of him, fragile and broken, waiting from him to pick up the pieces, waiting for him to cast his “good-luck” spell and make it all go away.

But it was never about luck. Simon was the one who sneaked into your garage and fixed your car, blackmailed your favourite coffee shop into lowering their prices and roughed up your boss inside his own office. He made a key to your house so he could make repairs without climbing the window, taking his time to watch you while you slept, happily unaware. He threatened your relatives when they made you upset and your ex-boyfriend… Well, he might not survive this one. Simon had already given him a beating the night you two met, when you told him he had cheated on you. Back then, he had only known you for a day. Now, you belonged to Simon, even if you weren’t aware, and nobody messed with what was his.

Note: A little imagine for you guys since i haven’t finished the chapter from my fic. hopefully you’ll accept this as my redemption.

god, i love psycho/toxic simon 😭 writing this because i literally can’t fall asleep thinking about this so i had to write it down. sorry if there are any mistakes, i’m literally writing this at 3 a.m.

[nellasbookplanet]

Because this is my blog and I cannot be stopped from rambling about writing, have a list of some fun facts and tidbits from working on Corruptive Shell, Rotten Core:

I'd been staunchly resisting writing a main games/portal stories mel crossover for ages with the excuse that even had I the energy to write it (I didn't), I had little plot in mind other than 'Chell and Mel hang out'. Then revolution dropped and ended on a cliffhanger on the moon, handing me not only an excuse to bring Wheatley back but also an excellent set-up for plot, and I could no longer resist.

The title Corruptive Shell, Rotten Core is, rather transparently, a reference to the facility itself being a corruptive force that rots everything within it, driving the plot that everyone must leave to have a chance at growing as people. It’s also, of course, a play on (personality) cores and Chell's name. Shockingly, I'm not known to be subtle.

I hadn’t played Aperture Tag when I started plotting, and thus the initial outline didn't feature Nameless or a co-opted Chell as antagonists. Instead, the planned antagonist was an alien AI that snuck in after Chell from the outside world and took over the facility. I scrapped this idea early on as it would require more extensive worldbuilding of the outside world, which I wanted to keep vague. I enjoyed the idea of the facility being a microcosm: once you're there, the outside world becomes irrelevant. Instead, Chell accidentally being teleported into Aegis' chamber and getting brainwashed was born.

Chell as an antagonist was a ploy to level the playing field between her, Glados and Wheatley. None of them can truly be forgiven, but if they’ve all at some point been drunk on power and attempted to kill the others, forgiveness becomes irrelevant. Also, I liked the symmetry of Chell+Wheatley fighting Glados, then Chell+Glados fighting Wheatley, and now Glados+Wheatley fighting Chell.

I played Aperture Tag after I'd already started writing, and immediately decided I needed to fit it into the narrative somehow. In the original outline, the story ended after Chell was convinced to leave with Glados, lacking a "true" antagonist. Personally, I think Nameless' addition made for a stronger and more explosive finale.

I very briefly played with the idea of making Chell and Nameless related/sisters, but discarded it as I felt it didn't fit the themes I was going with.

Nameless is supposed to mirror all the worst aspects of Chell, while also showcasing the damage Aperture has done and how the consequences of that might come back to bite them. While an antagonistic force, I view her more as a tragic figure of circumstance than as a villain.

Chell’s personality is based on several facts, among them 1: that she gets stabbed in the back multiple times and would be wary to trust as a result, and 2: word-of-god confirmation that she can talk, she just fucking hates all those robots.

Mel, meanwhile, is partly based on the fact that she was never betrayed and had a friend throughout, thus being much more open and trusting, and partly that I wanted someone very different from Chell to make their dynamic interesting.

I don’t know sign language. While I researched before writing and tried to be faithfull to it, I also took artistic liberties to make dialogue flow better. I hope it came off okay.

I adore Emilia, but part of what I wanted to portray with her is that she’s very much not only complicit but an active participant in Aperture's many crimes against humanity (I tried to do something similar with Virgil, which is highlighted in some of their conversations). I wanted to highlight her flaws, and how they very much exist despite being largely hidden behind her friendly and bubbly personality. She also lent herself well to explore the basics of machine sentience, as she’s both a creator of robots and an uploaded mind herself, thus seeing both sides of the issue.

Figuring out what I wanted Jane's personality to be like was a nightmare. For everyone else I had an idea of what they were like from the get go, but Jane was a big ?? in my mind. I spent ages on her introductory scene, eventually settling on 'how do you make a character that appears this late in the game not only quick to get in on the action, but also memorable? make her buckwild insane'.

Jane’s cyborg design is partially inspired by the concept art for the still-in-progress mod Portal Desolation!

While the humans are vastly different as people, I tried portraying them as all sharing the traits of 'good at rolling with the punches' and 'deeply pragmatic', as I could see no other way for them to survive the facility.

I often find portrayals of Chell and Glados in fic not to work for me. I can’t imagine Chell as soft or forgiving, or Glados (or Caroline) as victims rather than perpetrators of their own downfall. I wanted to really lean in to the messier aspects of both characters, and in what ways this messiness overlapped and drew them to each other, making them uniquely able to understand the other's perspective.

I knew from the very start that I wanted to end on Chell and Glados in the ruins of the outside world, neither fully human nor fully robot, and that the final lines would be Glados' aria playing as the facility shut down for good.

I love Virgil. Never have I encountered a character whose voice I have a harder time emulating.

I've never been very interested in humanoid glados designs (they're cool, but her canon design is so much more unique and interesting. also, I'm so sick of sexy lady robots, let her be inhuman), but I also knew I needed to get her out of the chassis for the latter half of the fic. Thus, portraying her in an android body while retaining her in-humaness became a balancing game.

I hadn’t played the half-life games when I started writing, and thus purposefully left the outside world vague as to leave open the possibility that they were still set in the same universe. By the time I reached the epilogue, I felt comfortable enough with half-life lore to include some explicit references. For the outside world, I imagine it being very solarpunk.

Originally, Chell and Glados didn’t discuss the Borealis in the epilogue but rather the Facility from Lightmatter, another puzzle game which while not officially part of the portal universe does include several references. I kinda regret not finding a way to include it, but as it was it no longer fit. Anyway, fun game, give it a go if you want a quick puzzle adventure with portal vibes!

[mossy-thing]

tree, set, pace

Hi, thank you so much! Oddly enough, I have not used the word pace in any of my current wips (of which there are six) but I do mention trees a lot, just as the Professor would have wanted, so you're getting two of those because I can't decide which one I want to show you.

Tree:

The bark of the tree is smooth and dark, and the branches are wide enough for Turin to comfortably stand on. He has no idea how exactly his new friend has managed to climb up in seconds, not unlike a squirrel, but she has, and now she is laughing because he can't manage to do it like her.

You are so beautiful, the wind whispered, and when the curtain of a willow tree opened before him, he tried so very hard to recoil.

Set:

Finrod thought he might have seen him start towards the backpacks (the weapons) in the same second he had made for the treeline, but it had all been a blur of colour and noise and far too bright light, and his head thrummed when he tried to concentrate on those moments of panicked breathing and darting eyes, so many eyes settling on him, so many on the children, calculating eyes, would this one be easy? He looks it, and then he had been gone, probably only hitting the ground a second after the mines had been shut off.

(To the wip game)

[severitus-insp]

Nella Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 7: The Train (AO3)

The train ride was awkward at first. People kept slowing down to peer in the window in the compartment door at their group, though Nella was sure it was mostly her they were looking at. The twins cracked jokes and pulled faces to make the busybodies move along, but she still felt unbearably guilty for the annoyance.

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

In Which a Bad Man Does a Good Deed (2)

“We’ve been told to report if we find out the biosign from our little princess is a glitch or a fake.  We’re not going to follow that order.”

Across from her, the team had their visors up and she saw Closkey’s eyebrows raise at this but he said nothing.

“You all may have noticed that we don’t have a mission to save the facility. The Council doesn’t think it’s salvageable.  They’ve determined there are enough crawlers that the cost isn’t worth it.”

“Then why send us in at all?”

“The survival of Ms. Chess is…weird. ��Her father has powerful friends, but that probably wouldn’t have been enough to warrant a rescue mission.  But crawlers haven’t kept someone alive before.  This is an information-gathering mission.  The Council wants to know what made them decide to take a prisoner for the very first time.  It could be the first step toward actual communication.  We know crawlers are intelligent, based on their combat tactics, but their thought patterns are too alien.”

“Hence, the Council makes you.”

Nella turned her slit eyes to Devin.  He looked pretty pleased with his joke for a second, but had the wisdom to realize he was sassing a superior officer and returned to a passive serious-face. “Uh, sir.”

“Yes,” said Nella. “Yes indeed.  But let’s get to the important part before we exit this storm.  If you think you’re too smart or too connected to be 100% expendable, you don’t understand the Council’s view on crawlers.  If you find out Ms. Chess is dead and you share that fact on long-range comms you can fully expect the main distortion cannon of a nearby frigate to hit the facility’s power core inside of five minutes.”

“Five?” said Devin, alarmed.  “For a shot large enough to blow the entire station they’d need to charge for at least twenty, wouldn’t they?”

Nella smiled at him.  She knew that her smile was predatory - she couldn’t much help that - but she was genuinely pleased.  “Your case file said you were a smart one.  Normally you’d be right, but they took the time to recommend we tell them.  To me, that says-” a high-pitched hum preceded a series of sharp klacking sounds as the magnetically-moored cargo boxes fell and then snapped back into place “-that they’ll be keeping supper nice and warm, just for us.  So let’s make sure we all make it back, shall we?”

[cassiopoesia]

mother tongue

il grande poeta edgar allan poe

una volta aveva scritto

“i stand amid the roar

of a surf-tormented shore

and i hold within my hand

grains of golden sand-

how few! yet how they creep

through my fingers to the deep,

while i weep- while i weep!

o god! can i not grasp

them with a tighter clasp?”

sta poesia l’avevo sempre capita a metà

l’avevo letta la prima volta

nella mia classe di mandarino

(poi perché non ho preso

spagnolo o francese

anche tedesco

qualcosa di simile all’italiano

non saprei dirtelo

anche se ho le mie teorie)

l’avevo trovata in un momento

quando non mi sentivo esistente

e quando l’ho letta

(in inglese. era la lingua originaria)

mi sono sentita capita

ma non capivo

sta roba con la sabbia

ovviamente non prestavo molta attenzione

però ero brava al mandarino

(我会说英文，一点儿中文，

和意大利文）

mi sono arresa lo stesso

ora studio tedesco

(ich spreche englisch, ein bisschen deutsch,

und italienisch)

e non mi ricordo tanto mandarino

però mi ricordo sta poesia

ad un punto mi sono accorta

quando parlavo con la mia madre

che difficoltà avevamo

lei che si è trasferita dall’italia

quando aveva trent’anni

e non si è mai aggiustata

con il suo inglese accentato

e io che sono già mezza americana

che non sono mai stata italiana

che ho solo la cittadinanza secondaria

con il mio italiano a pezzi

immagino che è per questo

che si chiama la madrelingua

la mia povera mamma

sarò davvero una figlia inutile

e il mio primo pensiero

quando ho fatto questa scoperta

quando ho ricevuto il risultato

di c1 invece di c2

su i miei esami d’italiano

é stato in inglese

come sta dannata poesia

che finalmente la capivo

“it’s like i’m watching

my native language

slip through my fingers

and there’s nothing i can do about it”

non sarà un pensiero poetico

ma io mi sembro una vera edgar allan poe