presque vu

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Book of the Elements

Four sensual encounters, each themed around one of the four elements.

Fire: Jared and Sholeh refuse to change their vacation plans just because of a little wildfire. An anniversary dinner ends up in a smoldering encounter as the night glows orange around them.

Earth: While on a ride through the desert a sandstorm forces Shannon to change his path.

Presque Vu 

Photography assistant Raina meets the members of 30 Seconds to Mars on a photo shoot and when she catches Jared’s attention she decides to throw caution to the wind.  Complications soon lead her on a road of self-discovery.


In mid-90’s Los Angeles, a series of simple, seemingly random decisions leads Jane to a diner where a chance encounter with two brothers will impact her life for years to come.

Fangs and Fairytales (Vampire!AU)

An accident during a show plunges the brothers into a world of supernatural creatures and intrigue.

Wishing it was you (Music inspired Shannon Leto oneshot):

I don’t know if I’m the one to blame but
Every time I hear you say my name
I can’t move, I can’t eat or sleep
I’m doomed, it’s not fun for me
Sucking on a bottle of Jim Beam, wishing it was you
Yeah I’m sucking on a bottle of Jim Beam, wishing it was you

Sunday Brunch (Shannon Leto oneshot)

When Lyndsay tries to make a nice brunch for boyfriend Shannon, things go awry.

The Ultimate Defense Is To Pretend – Shannon Leto Oneshot written with @thepromiseofanend

Frankie is about to be reunited with her childhood friend and former teenage crush, Shannon. But with a storm rapidly approaching, things could get a little heated.

Overtime – A Jared Leto Oneshot

Mikaela can’t understand why, if Jared is so happy with her work, he keeps hovering over her all day. And what’s with the constant demands for overtime?

anonymous asked:

Presque Vu?

Presque Vu is a story that poured out of me in a torrent. The story is about 70K long and I think I wrote it in less than a month. As such, it shows a lot of ragged emotional edges that normally I would file away from a story as too personal.

I don’t know if I’ve confessed this before, but here it is:

Arthur’s dream, after Mal dies, is my dream. I never remember my dreams, but this one has never left me. It came the night after my best friend’s funeral, and it’s lingered with me, every single detail. I like to think it was her telling me she was okay, and that I needed to stop being such a fucking pussy and sobbing uncontrollably. I remember sitting next to her in a theater and dragging her into my arms like it could keep her there with me and smelling the sharp lemon of my own perfume, and how it felt to wake myself up crying after. 

A lot of times people have asked me how to write something compelling, what makes a story good and emotionally resonant. I think it’s the willingness to excavate yourself, to give away your happiness and horror in equal measure. It’s not easy, but it’s the reason some stories will land like a fist around your heart, squeezing, others like a knife to the gut mid-twist. 

(And to the other people to asked: It’s unlikely I will write in Inception fandom again, but never say never and all that jazz.)

Presque Vu -- Chapter 29

T/W: Smut

Tagging:  @msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @maliciousalishious@meghan12151977 @fyeahproudglambert  @lady-grinning-soul-k @pheenixpeterson

   Raina was a mess Monday morning as she tried to get ready for work. Everything ached, and not in that tingly, pleasant way it had after their previous encounters, but actual hurt. The muscles in her arms that had strained against her bindings screamed when she lifted them in the shower, her bottom stung when the water hit it and every tender membrane seemed to be on fire. She didn’t know if she was angrier at herself for not thinking things through or angrier at Jared for being right.

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todayisbrightlywoven  asked:

for the meme--from Presque Vu, which may be my favourite inception fic of all time (it took me way too long to find a quote that wasn't too long): "It's not like their first kiss, the other kiss, their only other kiss. Eames is hesitant and needy and there's no real heat behind it, just a bewildering tenderness Arthur is going to blame on long separation and booze, and if he cups Eames's face in his hands, it's just because Eames is drunk as hell and nothing more."

I’m so obsessed with the concept of people with very firm boundaries realizing with sudden shock that their borders have dissolved, helpless in the face of someone wholly unexpected. That’s the entirety of Arthur’s relationship with Eames in the first half of Presque Vu – for so long while they’re research military dreamshare, until basically the moment that Eames asks Arthur to run away with him at Mal’s wedding, it never even occurs to Arthur that anything could ever happen. He’s undeniably attracted, interested, but it’s irrelevant to his conception of reality, because Arthur knows exactly who he is and what he can be, and to know what he can have without setting himself up for crushing disappointment is the central thesis in Arthur’s life.

I’m eternally stunned by the continuing resonance of Presque Vu as a story. People still have an intensity of feeling about it that is humbling and a little surprising, but over the course of years I think I’ve realized that so much of what this story is about is the ache of growing up, when your body hurts from the rapid expansion of your universe. It’s that mortifying shift when you exit the curated spaces of high school and college, stumble into early adulthood, and have to renegotiate your literal dreams in many cases, the person you always thought you would be. It can be wonderful, but it can also be quietly, utterly tragic, one of those intensely private hurts you can never truly share. So much of Presque Vu feels steeped in that bruise, and I suspect that might be what really captures a lot of people – it’s what I poured into the story as I writing it. 

Teenage Tendencies. (Or How the stars got stuck in His throat.)

Bite my lip.
The blood
& Poisoned

The word for you,
Is on the Tip of my
Tongue, [presque vu]
Twirling through
The red

And trickling rationality.
Love never felt,
So much like moon dust
Seeping through
My fingers.

The smell of nightfall
And lust,
youth and remorse,
Whenever I remember you


~deAngelo “You and I go together like;
Young & Reckless, Pretty & Pretentious.”

anonymous asked:

Blm a écrit QUOI???!!! (je ris)

BLM a écrit un mémoire sur “Le Statuaire dans A la Recherche du Temps Perdu.”

Il a aussi écrit des romans érotiques pour les éditions Harlequin quand il était jeune (sous le pseudonyme de “Duc William”, pour ceux que ça intéresse) et des bouquins, dont un où “il se masturbe”, dixit Sarko. 

Le passage en question : “ Je me laissais envahir par la chaleur du bain, la lumière de la lagune qui venait flotter sur les glaces de la porte, le savon de thé vert, et la main de Pauline qui me caressait doucement le sexe.” (Pauline = sa femme, au fait.)

Presque Vu – Chapter 28

A/N No particular trigger warnings this time, just deep apologies for making you wait so long. I have a lot going on in my personal life right now, and I have been ill and dealing with writer’s block. Thank you for your patience and enthusiasm and thanks for continuing to read, comment and reblog. I do appreciate it. 

   Shannon got Raina settled into the bath before climbing in with her, positioning himself so that she could lean back against his chest. She snuggled into him, enjoying the fuzzy high she was on, while she replayed the day’s events in her head.

   “You need to do that more often,” she told him as he tucked her hair over one shoulder and placed a gentle kiss at her throat.

   “Do what?” Shannon chuckled softly. “Kiss your throat?”

   “No,“ she purred, "talk to me like you did earlier. You are so good that. Holy shit that was hot.”

   Shannon laughed and pulled her in tighter. “You too. That was amazing.” He nuzzled her neck, the stubble on his chin tickling her damp skin and making her giggle. “My girl has such a dirty mouth.”

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anonymous asked:

Top 5 fanfic authors of all time? Favourite fic by each of those and why? What are your top 5 fics of all time? Or top 10 if you can't narrow it down any more. You're either my first or second favourite fanfic author ever and my top five fics of yours (in no order) are 'Snake, Wolf', 'reverse', 'Stormborn', 'glitter and gold' and (currently; the fifth changes) 'my bones'. I adore 'Cry Havoc 2' but it's painful to read (in a good way) so I don't read it often and 'Bite' will be up there soon too.

Oh god. Um. I think it would be…

1) Vathara

1. Entanglements, 2. River of Stars, 3. Project Asclepius, 4. Lone Flower, 5. Upon a Fiery Steed

2) Tierfal

1. Systole, 2. Diplomatic Excursions and Other Ways to Die, 3. The Twelfth Cup of Coffee, 4. But Not Buried This Time, 5. Simple Things

3) Tozette

1. The One-and-a-Half Body Problem, 2. The Fair Maiden, 3. The Natural Habitat of Haruno Sakura, 4. Teamwork: a Teacher’s Guide, 5. Several Things You’re Not Looking For

4) rageprufrock

1. Only As Directed, 2. Presque Vu, 3. Early Returns, 4. Three Castles, 5. White Wedding

5) canistakahari

1. If You’re Into It, 2. Say My Name (And Every Color Illuminates), 3. Run (I’m a Natural Disaster), 4. Aftershocks, 5. It’s Super Effective!

Top 5 fics would have to be…

1) Entanglements by Vathara

2) Convergence by blacknoise

3) To Be Invisible by Vathara

4) Only Bridges To by tb_ll57

5) this time tomorrow (where were we?) by dorcas_gustine

anonymous asked:

Goodness gracious, I'm not the anon who requested the first one but could you write a follow up drabble for that Deja Vu story with Reaper please? That destroyed me but I cant get enough of the angstttt. :')

Presque vu (noun, from French, meaning “almost seen”) is the intense feeling of being on the very brink of a powerful epiphany, insight, or revelation, without actually achieving the revelation. The feeling is often therefore associated with a frustrating, tantalizing sense of incompleteness or near-completeness.

“Who was that”, you asked, voice thick and heavy with confusion, bewilderment. Your evac from the Talon base had been swift, the information you had acquired only half what it should have been. But you couldn’t find it in you to focus on the failure of the mission. All your mind could seem to recall is that voice. Why did you know that voice? Why did that name sound so familiar?

“He iz nothing but a criminal”, Angela answered, trying to keep her tone steady, normal. But you could hear the underlying layer of agitation, the attempts to try and keep her clipped tone under control. There was a miniscule tick in her left eye, a tell that she wasn’t quite able to clamp down all the way on. She…was lying.

You had never questioned the woman, trusted her wholeheartedly and believed in her goodness and honesty. She had saved you, hadn’t she? Why would she lie to you? What purpose would that serve you. And why did you know what to look for? Your mind was quickly going through tells; signs someone was being disingenuous, a skill that Angela had not taught you.

Act natural.Make her believe that you believe her.

Your mind ordered and you listened, forcing the tension out of your shoulders, your brow relaxing as you nodded your head and actually smiled at her. You gently took Angela’s hands in your own, sighing softly in ‘relief’.

“Thank you Ang”, you said, tilting your head to the side in a sweet gesture. “He really really shook me up. I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

You watched Angela’s face go soft as she squeezed your hands back and smiled, tension relaxing in her shoulders. She wasn’t worried anymore, pulling you into a tight hug and rubbing your back warmly. You kept your body relaxed, your arms squeezing her back a little harder than normal. Showing her your ‘true’ appreciation.

“Of course”, she said as she pulled away, looking you over with a smile. “I am happy to help. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some rest?”

You nodded your head with a smile and turned towards your room, your steps calm and collected until you entered your room. Your hand drifted to your head, running your fingers to your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you sank down onto your bed, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out just what the hell all of that was. Fighting being familiar had been explained, it was muscle memory from before you lost your memory. But reading microexpressions, manipulating someone emotionally, that was new. But at the same time it wasn’t…Just like that man…

‘Te amo.’

‘Te Quiero Besar’

‘Mi reina’

‘Tu me vuelves loca!’



That deep, husky voice played in your mind like clockwork, making your chest ache painfully for reasons you didn’t understand. Your head didn’t punish you now when they thought back to those words but you had absolutely no idea what to do with those memories. There was still no face to put to that image other than the tall, monster of a man. The man who took the image of the barn owl, of Santa Muerte, of new beginnings and protection from evil. Your brow furrowed even tighter. How did you know all this?

You set a candle down at an altar, it was small and personal but yours. Santa Muerte shrouded, a skeleton face with long robes sat at the center. An apple. Coffee and caramel candies. A barn owl. The sickly sweet scent of tequila. A thick stack of bills. A single shotgun shell.

‘Protect him on his passage…’

Your shoulders jumped in surprise as tears that you hadn’t even known were there fell down your cheeks. Your fingers shook as they lifted, pushing them away only for more tears to replace them. A sob bubbled up from your chest, aching and painful but…relieved? Your arms wrapped tight around you as you tried to calm yourself down, your mind racing but always returning to one line of thought.

You knew the Reaper and he knew you. And you were going to find out how.

Reaper’s fingers flew across the keyboard, search after search coming to a dead end on Talon’s mainframe. His agitation was visible, plumes of smoke rolling off of his body as he slammed his hand down on the holo-keyboard only to have it dissipate.

You had died in Lagos last year. They had found a body. There was a fucking funeral. He had made sure your grave was always covered in flowers. He had listened to you prattle on and on about the language of flowers, watched you make floral arrangements just as easily as you could disassemble a gun or break through someone’s security. His place used to smell like a florist and he would complain with a smile only for you to stick a tiny blue forget-me-not into his curls. ‘True love’ you had told him it meant with a kiss, pressing your body into his and smiling up at him. You were his light in the hell that Blackwatch had thrown you into and that light had been snuffed out…until it wasn’t.

Gabriel growled; deep, low and monstrous sounding anger rippling through him. The death certificate had been signed by none other than Overwatch’s resident mad doctor, Angela Ziegler. The one who turned a boy into a cyborg monstrosity and then manipulated him into fighting until it thoroughly broke his spirit. The one who had played god and turned Gabriel Reyes into Reaper, and left him to fucking die when it seemed his body would not hold together. He was seething. He had mourned you, prayed to Santa Muerte for your journey and had reached out to you on Dia de los Muertos. And all this time, this witch had you.

And she had done something to you. Gabriel couldn’t erase the scared look that had been in your big brown eyes, couldn’t unsee you going completely blank when he said your name. Realization sparkled as you came to before something slammed down on those memories, pain flashing across your beautiful face before you became frantic to get away from him. His humanity had been stripped away in pieces when he had been brought back; the need to consume souls, the aching cool emptiness that would fill his core satiated by death and vengeance, the need to violently correct what had caused the fall of Overwatch and Blackwatch. But seeing you had set a fire off inside of him, reawakening a loving need that he didn’t know he still had. His mind tried to convince him that it was a trick, that this was a clone or an AI or something other than the dead woman that had been buried. But he knew that wasn’t true, he could see your soul, could see that this was his woman. He was more smoke than person as he seethed, moving away from the computer and beginning to formulate a plan in his mind.

“Voy a matar a esa bruja”

anonymous asked:

What are your top ten fave fics (or fic authors, since maybe all your fave fics are already on that poker pair list 😂)

oooooooo thats hard lmfao yeah ur right all my fav dgm fics are on that list lololol damn ten is a big number let’s see if i can do this esdrfg i’m gonna kinda chop and mix between the authors of my favourite fics and the best fics from my favourite authors, but i cant keep it to one fandom sorry lololol anD also i cant really ???? put them in a specific order???? lmao i love all the authors for their various styles and stories, but let’s see how i go ahahaha

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virgina-woolf  asked:

when i was 16 i read presque vu and then printed it out and put it in a binder to show my friend whose parents didn't let her online. also, i was once on a LOT of benadryl after being in the hospital for an allergic reaction and i spent my recuperation time reading that fic and crying to the song "hallelujah" (jeff buckley version) while thinking about arthur and mal's friendship. some of that was because of the benadryl and some of it was because presque vu is VERY good.

If it makes you feel any better Presque Vu makes me cry, too, because I always remember that I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT off of the AO3 which is a thing I did not think functional humans who are capable of wearing pants and holding full time jobs were even capable of doing. 

Presque Vu -- Chapter 27

A/N I didn’t want you to wait so long for this chapter since I feel like it’s been a lot of cliffhangers with this series lately. 

T/W: If you are still not aware that this series is papered in kinky smut then I don’t know what to tell you. If you’re new here then… hey.. this series is very heavy on the kinky smut. Also, this chapter is a long one. 

   Shannon gave Raina a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her before bounding off to the bedroom. Raina watched him go, taking in the more solid physique of the man who had just fucked her senseless before sighing and turning her attentions to the more lithely built man still blindfolded and secured to the chair in front of her.

   “You did so well, sugar,” she said, pulling the blindfold away. Jared chuckled softly at the turnabout in roles. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his, sucking his bottom lip between her teeth before letting his tongue invade her, his desire and frustration evident in its ferocity. She reached down and wrapped her hand around his shaft and he moaned into her mouth as she stroked his length, gripping him firmly while his hips arched into her movements. She hoped she wasn’t going to regret what she was about to do.

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tightropeofhope  asked:

(pls give me more a/e fic recs tho its been so long)

you keep making my evening better and better (sorry this took so long, i had to really dig up some of them mmshsh)
these are the ones that stayed with me, there’re so many more that were a pleasure to read but..:

my fav dream husbands fic for the looongest time was the only living boy in new york .. they land in limbo. they get to know each other, things happen, it’s 50k of character study and angst and beautiful, beautiful writing.

now… after reading it a second time all the world is bulletshaped became my new favourite: it has such a unique style, it’s brutal and raw and grabs you by the.. emotions..  wow. arthur needs to get into cobol hq and.. asks eames for help, it’s full of action and suspense and DAMN

my third fav is this growing up one..  nobody knew me at home anymore IT’S BASICALLY OUR H&L AU and so, so fucking good. a bit of an ari and dante vibe?

presque vu OBVIOUSLY.

Eidolon is an inception/tdkr crossover. they go into bruce wayne’s mind, arthur plays john, eames forges bane and.. dangerous things happen. i was so, so scared. amazing.

This lonely house.. oh my god. (oscar wilde references mehehe)

In medias res The mirror verse… arthur’s the forger, eames the point man.

impossible object it focuses on ftm arthur, god this was so good.

In our line of work was one of my first and still touches my soul. arthur wakes up and realises his life was a dream and now wants to find eames. fuck me up, thenk.

uhm so if you want to fuck yourself up really, really badly.. Moment of Inertia. (character death warnings)

hope you find some you like :^)

Arthur looks down at Eames, threads his fingers through Eames’ hair. “Eames,” he breathes, voice broken and shattered and painstakingly pieced back together. “Eames, how did you die?”

Eames brushes his fingers against Arthur’s cheek. “It should’ve been so dramatic,” he says, smirking. “Gunned down by hired assassins, maybe. Mortally injured saving the love of my life.”

Arthur’s eyes flicker shut. “It should have,” he agrees.


From Shattered Souls by @iamanonniemouse

Sophie hears about him long before she ever meets him. Best forger left in the business, the whispers say. Can be anything you need him to be. Architect, extractor, point. Anything.

He sounds like a myth.

this is one of the most beautiful, heartbreaking, poetic, and profound fics i’ve read in inception fandom in a while. it’s so well-written that i have compared it to the masterpiece that is presque vu

thank you to @somedrunkpirate for circling it back to my inbox for some more love! 

Panser nos coeurs, penser nos malheurs.

Le Mekong à ma gauche, la cour de récré à ma droite, sous ma moustiquaire, j’écris à la lueur du lampadaire, j’ai rangé cette gueule qui manque pas d’air pour devenir cette jeune fille qui éclaire plus que les éclairs, est-ce que c’est clair ? J’ai toujours pas arrêté le bendo, j’fais du pro bono, tu peux me croiser dans les bars de la capital, celle vidée par Pol Pot il y a pas si longtemps, le bonheur y est presque palpable dorénavant, mes démons m’accablent, « faire ce qu’on peut avec ce qu’on a et ça ira » que je me dis tard le soir, seule dans mon pieu, tout y est silencieux ; J’allume une clope, mes poumons sifflent, au loin j’entends des cris, encore une maman qui s’endormira sous les coups, mon ivresse de jeunesse n’a rien à voir avec ces ivrognes qui cognent tard le soir. L’horreur de la vie s’entremêle avec l’espoir candide qu’esquisse ce sourire d’enfant.

Il en dit long ce regard perdu dans le vide, il appartient à Trévy. Elle feint ne pas m’avoir reconnue alors je m’assois sans un bruit à ses côtés et la bouscule gentiment de l’épaule. Elle retient son sourire avant d’éclater de rire, si fort que ça en a fait fuir ses pensées nocives. L’authenticité de la discussion se traduit par la barrière des mots, elle demeure ainsi pure, dénuée de palabres, dénuée de facilité, les mots mentent, pas les rires, ni les gestes, une réelle spontanéité que j’ai mis une vie à trouver. S’amuser avec rien n’aura jamais été aussi facile pour moi. Puis d’un bond elle se lève et court à l’intérieur pour revenir avec son sac d’écolière sur le dos et se rassoit au même endroit. Elle me tend l’un de ses cahiers de cours, et me montre non sans fierté ses 9,5/10, elle me dit 5 avec les doigts, j’en déduis qu’elle est cinquième de sa classe. Je lui montre au combien je suis fière d’elle, j’y ai presque vu des étincelles dans ses prunelles, putain elle a que 8 ans mais je sens que dans son regard noir, elle ne craint plus l’enfer, puisqu’il se trouve derrière, ça sera jamais pire que tous ses souvenirs plus que délétères, et j’irai passer mon année à lui hurler « t’inquiètes faut pas t’en faire, tes démons j’irai les faire taire ».

Presque Vu

Rating: T (mild coarse language)

Words: ~4700

Links: FFN // AO3

Summary: Presque vu, the intense feeling of being at the brink of an epiphany. // Leo is dense, Elliot is in love, and Oz is a cupid, or at least trying to be. // Fluffy Elleo modern AU.

Happy birthday, Leo! // October 25

The companion piece to this artwork.

This is also for PHPM prompt #4: love.

Let it be said that Elliot was an idiot. An utterly clueless, clumsy idiot.

Because Leo had always known that Elliot was tactless at best, and a walking disaster at worst, but he hadn’t figured it was to this extent. Sometimes he wondered how such a prominent family like the Nightrays could completely overlook the delicate art of not sticking your foot into your mouth every other time you open it. But evidently it was possible, because that was exactly what Elliot did.

To be fair, he did have a certain amount of grace when maneuvering any sort of casual human interaction, but even the tiniest bit outside the acquaintance zone and he would just flounder pathetically.

So that was a foregone conclusion, and you would think he’d at least have the sense to tactfully retreat from such social situations, but no, Elliot would tackle them head-on and get his sorry ass handed to him.

It was probably out of some cosmic hiccup that he had actually managed to form a somewhat functional friendship with Leo, though the functional part was debatable, honestly. And even with Oz, it was more of Oz made friends with Elliot, and Elliot grudgingly accepted that Oz just wouldn’t leave him alone. So in the end, Elliot failed horribly at dealing with people in any even slightly intimate circumstances.

Which made it all the more painful when Valentine’s Day rolled around.

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