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@alfunccot
Daddy’s home. THE BRO CODE / GO FOR BARNEY / PROMO independent, selective Barney Stinson; suited up by Lana.
important!
I’m moving to @diisguises
I’ll make a promo later. But! I don’t want to drop threads or lose our interactions, so if you’re interested in continuing a thread, just tag my new blog in the next reply. Sorry for inconvenience!
P.S. Metas and asks will be there now, too.
Nowhere in the world is safe. Definitely not on this blog. Independent, selective Count Olaf, mostly book & headcanon based. Moved from @alfunccot.
important!
I’m moving to @diisguises
I’ll make a promo later. But! I don’t want to drop threads or lose our interactions, so if you’re interested in continuing a thread, just tag my new blog in the next reply. Sorry for inconvenience!
P.S. Metas and asks will be there now, too.
important!
I’m moving to @diisguises
I’ll make a promo later. But! I don’t want to drop threads or lose our interactions, so if you’re interested in continuing a thread, just tag my new blog in the next reply. Sorry for inconvenience!
P.S. Metas and asks will be there now, too.
important!
I’m moving to @diisguises
I’ll make a promo later. But! I don’t want to drop threads or lose our interactions, so if you’re interested in continuing a thread, just tag my new blog in the next reply. Sorry for inconvenience!
P.S. Metas and asks will be there now, too.
Nowhere in the world is safe. Definitely not on this blog. Independent, selective Count Olaf, mostly book & headcanon based. Moved from @alfunccot.
Do not reblog RPs.
This is becoming more and more prominent. If you are not the one that is the other half of the writing pair in an RP, do not reblog the post. Nevermind that it messes up the writer’s activity, which is how we track our threads, but they are private. Like the post all you want, do not put it on your blog. It is not tolerated, nor it is appreciated.
finnishfemalepirates
“Then what are you saying? Because it sounds like you’re trying to excuse your actions while villainising other people who did the same things!” She folds her arms and grits her teeth, ready to argue back against anything her father would say. She’s stubborn, but she chooses to see it in a more positive light, as determination. Beatrice’s eyes widened in a touch of fear at his threat, taking a small step backwards. “You won’t control me, full stop. If you try to, I’ll go find the Baudelaires, and they’ll take much better care of me. And you’re supposed to be my father!” She makes a plan of how to escape should she need to, keeping enough space between the two of them to make sure she can get away if the need should arise.
“I’m trying to be your father, that’s exactly what I’m doing!” he could lock the Baudelaires up in tiny birdcages or do whatever else he had to do to keep them under his surveillance, but Beatrice is different. Olaf wouldn’t hurt her, not like this, but if it comes to that... “Brainwashing is hardly proper care. You’d be taught to start fires and commit fraud by now if I hadn’t decided to keep you away from V.F.D. And if anyone there knows that you’re...” he silences himself abruptly. Of course, if she joins V.F.D., they’ll come for him sooner or later – they always do, but it’s not his life he cares about. After all, didn’t he make three children suffer for their parents’ sins? Hadn’t he suffered for the same reason?
snicketsquadron
“Olaf, I swear I’ll love you even if you start volunteering as a gabbai.” Kit responded with equal solemnity. “I’ll miss your jokes” she says with fake tearfulness. “But true love will endure. Though if after a week you start aiming to become a rabbi I may have to recorrupt you.”
“I’m afraid I might,” he whispers in fear. It’s so foolish, but it makes his heart melt – Olaf could actually try, just for the sake of another little game, just to make Kit keep her promise, and that’s what makes them so prefect for each other. There’s no room for boredom. “I think I need to be corrupted to the core now, so that a week won’t be able to change anything.”
important!
I’m moving to @diisguises
I’ll make a promo later. But! I don’t want to drop threads or lose our interactions, so if you’re interested in continuing a thread, just tag my new blog in the next reply. Sorry for inconvenience!
P.S. Metas and asks will be there now, too.
of fortunes told and stolen;
storiiestcld
beneath the long sleeves of her shirt, her hands clench tightly until her nails dig fiercely into her palms. she doesn’t know who she wants to hate more - him, or esme who clings to him like some sodden trout. esme, who if she only knew how close she was to the sugar bowl. not that kit will let either of them have it; she’s spent this long protecting it. she will not be swayed by her past, or the present.
she blinks, when she realises she’s being addressed. her mind wanders down scenic routes frequently anymore - she blames it on the baby. the baby she instinctively wants to curl her hand against but doesn’t dare to give it away. not here. not now.
“spirits very particular. one on one readings, but madame lulu promises the pretty blonde lady great fortune reading at low price when she finishes giving strange man his fortunes.” kit’s fingers splay and wriggle and all in all, she loses herself back into madame lulu. it’s easier to be madame lulu than it is kit snicket in that moment. at least until she’s behind that tent flap and utterly alone with olaf for the first time in ages.
she knows about jacques. her brother is dead. at his hand. the other is missing. kit is truly alone in the world now, and it makes her ache. but there’s dewey and the tiny being she’s currently harboring - but somehow that doesn’t make it any better.
“come inside madame lulu’s tent and she read your fortune, strange man. please. will call for pretty lady when her turn comes.”
She’s playing along, to Olaf’s surprize, relief and terror at the same time – facing each other tête-à-tête is a necessary thing to do, but that doesn’t make it any less easy. There is hardly anything he could say or do to defend himself, he doesn’t want to defend himself, not in front of Kit anyway, because she knows him better than anyone ever will.
“Olaf, I’m going with you,” Esmé insists, tugging at his sleeve with an unfathomable look of either a serial killer, or a whiny baby – both are equally irritating, and the fact that he was just called a strange man makes the whole situation absolutely, nightmarishly phantasmagorical. A woman he owes at least an explanation to, a woman clenching the anyway crumbling fabric of his shirt, a troupe full of idiots...
“Why don’t go look for, er... something new for us to wear?” the Count suggests, suppressing a particularly heavy sigh – it’s becoming too much, but it’s not like he hasn’t handled worse.
Absolutely sure that Esmé will stay right outside the tent and eavesdrop on them, he looks around. The tent is dimly lit and decorated, Olaf must admit, with some taste, though everything inside of it feels odd and unsettling. But it’s not about the insides of the tent, as well as it’s not about a huge crystal ball on the table that attracts his wandering gaze. It’s about them.
“So what does my future hold, Madame Lulu?” he walks to the far corner of the tent, arms folded on his chest. Olaf doesn’t look at Kit anymore, even with the makeup and the disguise it’s unbearable, but his question doesn’t require a crystal ball to be answered. He knows what his past holds – their past, so close and so far at the same time, a few months or many years. They weren’t supposed to meet again, last time went so wrong, but this – this is much, much worse.
Also friendly reminder that Olaf has a very impressive vocal range from the lowest point of “the house of freaks” to that glass-shattering sound in “keep chasing your schemes”.
I can’t stop thinking about moving to a separate blog because being a sideblog is annoying in terms of interactions, so I might do that. But I’m torn.
I’m doing it. Don’t be mad at me.
I can’t stop thinking about moving to a separate blog because being a sideblog is annoying in terms of interactions, so I might do that. But I’m torn.
I’m bored to death and always up for chatting, so I’m leaving this here just in case.
(Or shoot me a message here if you want to talk)
If you hear the bell ring, beware. The actor you are about to see on stage is of the most impressive talent that will definitely conquer your heart. Count the minutes before the curtain rises, for tonight’s star, Olaf, will become the best actor you’ve ever seen. His ring seems to have once belonged to his father.
— The Daily Punctilio
Sideblog to @darling-dearest-dead-inside