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stingslikeabee · 1 year ago

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meet the mun

1. what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have?

I always credit Melissa to a combo of three particular things: a) my personal interest and passion for the Japanese nightlife scene and its uniqueness; b) the movie 'Sucker Punch' (and particularly the character of Vera Gorski); and c) a post that once made the rounds when I first joined the FFVII rpc that wondered if the Turks didn't visit Wall Market for the chili fries or because the girls happened to have the best intel.

And then it was like something clicked inside - I sudden had this 'vision' and Melissa was born after some crafting as a brothel madame who had strong mama bear/caring and nurturing vibes and who had set herself in opposition to Corneo. The two alternatives in terms of earning people's loyalty (fear/love), a cold war of sorts, a lot of fun and layered dynamics to play with from a Wall Market perspective (such as trading intel, working as an informant, etc) and tying in to the game main events.

I always preferred to pick 'minor' muses or to craft characters that fill in spaces and make a world livelier - Melissa just felt right. I guess she works nicely because no one ever thought it was absurd to have Corneo as a nemesis - even with Remake revamping the HBI and making it something else, I decided to stick to my OG view and I was incredibly well-accepted! :)

2. is there anything you don't like to write?

I am very plot driven - and therefore threads that are just winging something and with no ulterior purpose just bore me and I lose muse fast. I like threads to be like book chapters, with an objective in mind - once that's done, I prefer wrapping it up and starting a new one. Smaller things I deal with in asks (although there is nothing preventing me from turning an ask into a thread when it sparks the good muse food).

So I tend to have a basic, over-arching plot line to follow and I enjoy discussing it offline with my partners so we can ask each other what we are thinking in terms of next steps, if a certain event would be interesting, etc. Believe me, this doesn't take away the surprise - I have been hit by unexpected feelings so many times, I love it.

In addition to that, I struggle with fighting/action sequences (I am just super bad at it), overly descriptive things (a room, someone's clothes, a landscape). It just feels like everything I have ever studied about English goes out of the window and my writing turns super dull, I hate it.

3. is there anything you really enjoy writing?

Emotional stuff - of any kind. I have found out that my preferred writing method is one that mixes a lot of thoughts, emotions and bits of lore together, so although a given reply may not give much in terms of objective actions, it will make room for further emotional or introspective discussions to happen. Characters working out their own feelings and perceptions in relation to certain things is a favorite of mine and my replies are frequently novella-like because Melissa thinks (and feels) so damn much.

I also do like setting the scene (as in giving context for a particular interaction) in starters or asks and expanding on lore. Worldbuilding is another favorite of mine and I often make extensive research into stuff that is only going to be briefly mentioned in a thread. Other than that, I'm also into sharing/including NPCs to make the flow of a thread feel more like a book and crafting these small cameos is super fun.

Oh - I do enjoy writing the usual shippy things (including those on the platonic side of things), particularly with Melissa who has such a strong preference for these themes when compared to other muses. However, without plotting (and since she's an OC), it all feels very soulless if I don't know how to get there in a way that makes sense or seems to be aligned with every character involved.

4. how do you come up with headcanons?

I get inspired by different types of media and a lot of real-life references. For general lore/worldbuilding, I tend to leverage from historical or current events whenever possible, all the while trying to tie these things with the existing canon; for muse-specific verses, anything can spark an idea: a quote in a movie, a song, a certain TV show.

5. do you write in silence or do you play music?

I always have music on - it tends to change depending on the specific verse or muse, but I generally have key songs to fall to while writing.

6. do you plan your replies or wing them?

I plan them as a rule (including asks and memes) - even if it's mostly in my brain and as a general line that I want to follow so I can go from A to B within a few paragraphs. It doesn't always work, though - sometimes I rework the entire idea, or get hijacked by the muse and directed to something else instead.

7. do you enjoy shipping?

Yes - I adore it, and building connections and creating ships is something I really like to do, from discussing it to dropping aesthetic posts to a customized tag. For Melissa in particular, they play a large and significant role as she is someone very much transformed and shaped by love and attachment to people, so my ships for her invariably become a part of much larger and complex verses.

This also goes for platonic dynamics - I like the concept of ships because they allow me to visualize a setting/plot much better and build around it with so many little additions that it feels alive and organic. I start creating timelines and events and it is just so satisfying to see it all coming together.

One thing I have learned with time is that, despite enjoying shipping, I like to be able to talk/connect to the other mun offline (talking about it and plotting is fun!) but also I try to be selective to the point of exclusivity. Because I am so plot-driven, I end up building so much around one variant/portrayal of a given character that I just become partial to it and blind to others - and because I don't want to project my dynamics onto duplicates, I'm multi-single-ship as a result (as in multiple ships, but just a single one per each muse - although exceptions sometimes apply).

8. what's your alias/name?

Mari, because that's how everyone calls me anywhere, anytime. I actually get confused/bothered if my full name is used because it sounds more serious and I just think it's either a stranger calling me or a boss/my mother being angry, haha.

9. age?

Old enough to remember the hype re. having a Blockbuster card around here; these where the premium video rental shops, haha (and nope, I never had one, I only wished I had).

10. birthday?

A late winter/early spring child! As a kid I thought I was born in spring and loved it, but then I realized spring is just later in September and that I was actually a winter kid by a few days, haha. But growing up, winter (winter as I know it, mind you) became my favorite season, so it was all good!

11. favorite color(s)?

Used to be black, silver and blue but these days I'm super fond of turquoise and shades of green? I seemingly cannot settle on a single one forever.

12. favorite song(s)?

I am contractually required to always reply with 'GLAY' and 'Yuuwaku' haha (this song is so damn important in my life). Here's an awesome video to introduce you to my favorite band.

13. last movie you watched?

'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' - one of my top 10 favorite movies, one of my top 5 movie openings, one of my top 3 Fincher movies.

14. last show you watched?

I just finished (re)watching 'Nana', only this time I made it to the last episode. I forgot how emotional this show made me feel and how epic the soundtrack is.

15. last song you listened to?

'Raise Your Glass' by P!nk, a courtesy of my spotify shuffling things haha.

16. favorite food?

I never know what to say here, there is just SO MUCH I love? I think pasta generally ranks very high, followed by pastel and pão de queijo. On the sweet side, I am obsessed with coconut and paçoca.

17. favorite season?

I might have spoiled it here, but it's winter - again, my winter. Brazilian winter. Tropical winter. The winter I have experienced in the Netherlands was depressing, dark and horrible where my nose bled, my skin cracked, I got shocked every time I touched anything metallic and I was just miserable; I love blue skies with sunshine and something below 20 degrees outside.

18. do you have a tumblr best friend?

I do! I mean, I could just say that I have a bunch of really awesome mutuals and I wouldn't be lying; or that I am closer to some than to others, and that would also be true. But it's no secret that @dojimakaichou is just on another level because Dawn and I talk every day to the point I feel weird if we don't; we don't just talk about roleplay, we talk about everything, we have weekly movie dates, we send each other gifts, we record videos for our families and we spent 10 days together last year with plans for more annual encounters. :) She's my bestie (and not just a 'tumblr' bestie) and honestly I only wish we lived closer but we make do!

tagged by: @bitterarcs cursed me (and I loved it!) tagging: anyone who wants to - this has gone around for some time now so I'm pretty sure I'd be tagging people again~

#dash games #been a while since I did these mun memes #hopefully this helps anyone who wishes to reach out?

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sereisstuff · 4 years ago

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𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐// Kuina Hikari

Warnings - Angst? Reader is an introvert, contrast to Kuina. Cheesy?

Word count - 2.5K

Disclaimers - For those of you who do not support the LGBTQ+, please move along. I don’t want any negative feedback that includes slander of the community as this will be a female x female story.

Authors note - I got a bit carried away towards the end, I wanted to dip my toes into writing for Kuina and let me tell you, I will be coming back with more. I know I write my stories based off confessions but that’s usually how I get the feel of writing.

Italics + bold means its a flashback and Italics on it’s own means someone is currently speaking.

Summary - Love is an evil thing but you know the saying, love prevails. So will it unleash itself in the borderlands, or will it be kept behind a cage until all hell breaks lose?

“Do you just casually follow people around or is that your quirk?” You asked venomously, glaring at the lengthy girl before you, watching her eyes deepen at the accusation you spat. Marking her existence with a smile, orbs glistened in delight as she played with the nicotine between her lips.

She raised her brows in laughter, reaching for one of the phones before her, carefully analysing your expressions as she purposely reached for the device tediously, wanting to witness the instant regret you felt beholding her intentions.

“My name's Kuina if you were wondering and no I’m not following you, my visas running out as it does” she laughed plausible showcasing her declining visa with a grin. she towered over your stature with a soft glare in her rounded eyes.

You paused in your spot momentarily, gripping the sides of the black piece of technology in your palms. Of course she wasn’t following you, how stupid can you be, you ridiculed yourself mentally.

It was laughable how paranoid you grew during your cursed time in the games, such and so having such an intimidating figure stalk not too far from you made you on edge, deliberately assuming the worst when clearly you mistook your fear of the games over fear of communication.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry. My name is y/n” you replied, holding out your hand in an attempt to cover up your embarrassment. You looked down before your sweaty palm, cursing your unruly hair, strands stretched to the lengths of your arms with your head bowed.

You mumbled incoherent cuss words to yourself, fidgeting with your fingers.

It was nerve wracking to be quite frank

“Kuina Hikari, nice to meet you” she grinned warmly, grasping your hand in her own, feeling the velvety touch of her skin clash with your nervous shell. You would often laugh in situations like this but it wasn’t often you were met with someone who caught your attention as much as her.

You both stood like that for a moment before she clicked her tongue, in all honesty. Kuina had an admiration for you, you seemed reserved and introverted. It was applaudable, Chishiya surely would have made use of you but Kuina was far different from him, she was coated in harsh skin but genuinely, she was someone who admired closely to those she wished.

The sudden noise broke you from your trance, releasing a cough into the tensed air. You quickly pulled your hand back from her embrace, missing the texture against your own but you worried less, today might as well be the last, you couldn’t attach yourself to someone who could be gone within the next few minutes.

Kuina stuck close to you from then onwards, her arm lightly bumping yours bringing your attention away from the entrance of the game as she casually ignored her subtle advances. In a way it helped ease the tension rising within your own mind, you chewed your lips nervously, any harder you could draw blood but you didn’t care, you had only attended three games before this one and it didn’t help that you were distracted by her presence.

“Nervous?” she asked, her posture spoke for itself. Calm, calculated, cool. The three big c’s and she had them all, much like her counterpart she was game defying.

Kuina gazed your way with curiosity, she couldn’t help but wonder more, wanting to callously defy the self made laws of the beach and surpass the barriers of selfish independence. she wanted to know you, your origins, your life, everything.

“A little bit. Are you not?” you replied, raising your eyebrows in question. You placed your hands behind your back, hiding the fear causing them to shake irrationally. You didn’t want her to think of you as weak, maybe that’ll give you more time to be by her side, if you didn’t suddenly meet your demise so quickly.

Kuina shrugged, popping the nicotine from her mouth “Maybe?, I wouldn’t know by now.” her eyes dazed into existence for a moment then came right back to your own with a glint of hope, or was that just the sickening feeling in your stomach forcing you to assume otherwise.

she stared at you, hands clenching in determination as she spoke“ Stick with me and you’ll be fine” her words soared confidently and you took note of her peak in confidence, was it a façade? You thought. It couldn’t be, many here either portrayed one of two emotions. Fear or determination yet she showed none, her return was defined in bold and you couldn’t convince her otherwise.

“Are you sure?’ You whispered, your voice pitching higher not wanting to discomfort her. Kuina bumped your shoulder with her own, collectively nodding her head

“I’m sure”

“I see you’ve caught interest towards her?” Chishiya smirked through his words, standing just behind Kuina’s body as she gazed across the pool towards your anxious figure, she analysed what it was about you that caught her attention but couldn’t grasp it, it wasn’t unlike her to treasure likings towards people every so often but this was a contrast to her others, she fluttered at the sight of you and she wasn’t near complaining.

Kuina glanced back at Chishiya, processing his words. Defusing his every meaning was her talent but this one backfired, did she really like you? It was hard to understand, she’d only known you for a few weeks, attending every game with you, so much that even Chishiya caught on to her advances and watched in amusement.

“Yeah. I just don’t think now's the right time to tell her” she released, Chishiya scoffed looking ahead of himself, taking in every aspect of you. He could pinpoint the puzzle you so perfectly fit between Kuina and yourself but would prefer to leave the unmasking to his friend, after all. He enjoyed that the most.

“Poor y/n, so unaware of her surroundings. I say tell her, if not now then when?” Chishiya pressured more, he snickered smugly to himself watching the contemplation arise in her features. Kuina licked her lips as she watched Niragi begin to approach you with a look of interest, at first she processed the idea of standing up against someone as powerful and reckless as the psychopath himself and denying it, preferring other options but before she knew it, she was running to your side, taking a quick and fast seat where you were planted.

Her presence surprised you, mustering a tone of surprise, yet when you wished to curiously question her current motives, the words clung to your throat. Kuina placed her knee by yours and wrapped and arm around your neck securely, she shot you a small smile before glaring at the approaching figure. Niragi tipped his head in interest, he smelt the dramatics developing and what more was his presence useful for if not the dramatics of the borderlands.

“What’s wrong?” you piqued straight, Kuina sent you a shrug. Her back hunching comfortably whilst she rested her hands against her long legs, she shrugged “Nothing, I just thought you looked bored, should we go for a walk?” She questioned but sounded familiar to an urge, you examined her brown eyes. Crossing between you and the man slowly approaching you both.

For some odd reason he shot you a smirk before another man half his size stepped before him, his arms raised tiredly before he glanced back meeting your eyes then lazily nodding towards Kuina, she breathed a heavy sigh of doubt before humming your name “Y/n?”

You felt her hand eagerly grasp your own, the sudden touch sent electricity up your spine. The tender slither of warmth travelled in your cheeks and you suddenly couldn’t understand the concept of breathing, you always knew deep down, your liking for Kuina didn’t just rest at friends, it expanded beyond the universe and now it was slowly revealing itself to her.

“Y-yes” you stuttered, searching the reserves of the pool before you were quickly pulled up from your seat. You huffed in surprise, not expecting such strength to emit from her, you could almost feel the tension begin to unravel between her and the man standing metres away, although he was blocked by Chishiya, Kuina couldn’t help but want you far from him.

By now you and kuina had been suspiciously close, every night she was by your side and every game you clung to her like a second skin. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, you spent every breathing moment with each other and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t fuelling the fire you had.

“Where are you taking me?” you begged, her grip was fine against your limp wrist. If anything, Kuina had your trust and you knew deep down, something was on her mind.

“Away, just for a bit” came her short response.

She led you down multiple hallways and a flight of stairs before you landed in front of a door, she pushed it open with ease and made sure your body was enamoured by the breeze before tightly shutting it.

With your hands on your hips and doubt pooling in your eyes, you asked “I’m gonna ask one more time before I lose my shit, what’s wrong?” you gaped at her being, crushing the sides of your hips with your heavy palms.

You could clearly see the worry in her eyes before she tilted her head up, hands criss crossed covering her chest and in silence you stood.

You wanted to be patient, lenient, all things she showed you, so on so forth still the silence was undeniably painful “Kuina?” you softly whispered.

Kuina pulled herself from a heavy daze of inner conflict, searching your eyes for that ounce of hope as she settled herself against the door “I brought you here because I’d rather you be by me than by that psychopath, I was worried that something bad would happened if he actually got to you” she muttered, it was odd to see her suddenly avoiding your eyes, usually that was your distinct feature, it shone vulnerability and you wanted nothing more then for her to be surrounded by your comfort.

You took a step close to her, grasping her hand confidently in your own “Is that all? You could have just told me, I would have left the second you mentioned it, if it makes you feel any better. You're the only person I’m comfortable with here, maybe Chishiya a bit but I feel like he’s secretly plotting my death” you laughed, finally releasing a breath upon hearing her light snicker.

But it was short lived, she looked at your hands. Finally taking your fingers and playing with them mustering up the courage to speak “I have something else to tell you” her tone deepened as his grew more serious, her hand raced in her chest, mirroring your own.

You couldn’t ignore the soft touches she drew on the upside of your palm, feeling tingles run through your arm only growing more distracted but with concentration, you engulfed yourself.

“When we first met, I thought that moment we had was short lived. A moment of pure morality, where we could interact like people again and I would never see you after that” her voice wavered as she caressed your palms, bringing her focus and comfort to see you enjoying it.

“But when I saw you sitting by the pool alone, I couldn’t help but be excited. I felt stupid, like an idiot actually to think that anything good could ever come out of this horrid place, so I questioned myself” you stared deeply into her eyes, wanting her to meet you half way and confess what you wanted to hear, unless at the end was dejection and a pool of tears.

Her eyes glazed suddenly and you rushed to amend her sorrow with your hands planted on her surprisingly tense cheeks, you felt them softened under your touch and her breathing turned from ragged to calm, matching your painless pants.

“It’s okay” you reassured her with your head tilted and a delicate smile plastered on your face.

“I like you and not just like friends y/n, like every fibre of my being needs to be surrounded by you just to feel normal again. And I hate myself everyday because of it” she gripped your hands bringing them away from her face, holding back the tears.

Her vulnerability wasn’t something she enjoyed nor often portrayed, her character she upheld was crumbling and all for the sake of you.

“I-” you were breathless, that’s exactly what you wanted to hear from her. Nothing more, nothing less.

You couldn’t form the proper words to acknowledge her emotions so you sat in silence, looking at the floor.

That was until you heard the creek of the door open, shooting your attention upward, catching sight of her blue shorts slowly disappearing around the corner.

And without a second thought, you ran after her. Screaming her name until your throat cracked, you cursed her long legs hating that you could only run so far before you felt that pain jotting in your chest and your lungs filling to a brim.

“Kuina wait, please” You shouted, not noticing her figure halting against the carpeted floor, ramming straight into her accidently, Kuina didn’t waver, holding back a laugh. “Would you at least look at me before you leave, you didn’t even give me a chance to say that I feel the same way about you” you confessed, Kuina pivoted in her spot. Eyes a harsh red matching the colour of her puffed cheeks, she was shocked.

Frowning towards your answer as if she didn’t believe you.

“What?” she choked.

“At one point I just accepted that we would never be something, like two people colliding in a world that didn’t want them. I was honestly on the brink of death when I met you and I wasn’t going to do anything about it, still, you pulled me out and showed me that no matter how many times I drowned you would pull me out, your a colossal idiot if you think I would never fall for you, I was head over heels the moment we met and it only grew, so I’m hoping that you’ll accept me” Kuina dawned shock over her timid features, covering the warming feeling in her stomach as the butterflies flew.

“Accept you?” she scoffed, arms crossed defensively “I just confessed my love for you and you're asking me if I’ll accept you?” her voice was growing heavier by the second as she finally took a moment to seep into your questionable eyes, she grabbed your head.

Tucking a strand behind your ear succumbing to the moment, and with the tilt of her head she captured your lips in her own.

It was eccentric. The butterflies flew and your mind was in a haze. Was this really happening? you weren’t dreaming? was the woman that reached her hands into a pit of fire to get you, really kissing you. It was all too much, you relaxed at the sudden touch of her hand against your cheek, finalising the moment with the movement of your lips.

Her touch devoted itself to you, feeling the seep of love run from her lips and passionately sharing her confession.

You smiled into the kiss finally backing up in heavy pants, Kuina mimicked your breathing with her forehead leaned against your own, her orbs searching yours with delight. No more fear, no more pressure. The eggshells she walked on no longer existed and she cherished every passing second.

“You know, I kinda just hoped you’d fall in love with me and confess but this way works too.”

#hikari kuina #kuina alice in borderland #Alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland #Imawa no Kuni no Alice #alice in borderland fanfiction #alice in borderlands headcanons #kuina imagines #kuina x reader #kuina hikari #Hikari Kuina imagines #suguru niragi #chishiya shuntaro #imawa no kuni no arisu

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tomorrowxforever · 5 years ago

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Dom! Yeonjun A-Z

Fem! Reader

Contains: Cups of smut. Well, not direct smut so, more insanely suggestive.

Warning(s): NSFW!!, dom! Yeonjun, bully! Yeonjun, mentions : cum play, degradation, impact play, bondage, breeding, spit, voyeurism, sir! Yeonjun, sadism, humiliation, exhibitionism

Notes: This is.. oof. I’m sorry bibi😅 I’m actually pretty fuckin proud of this one. Please keep sending in requests, October is the only month I write full fledge smut and not just suggestive.

—

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Yeonjun is the sweetest baby when it comes to aftercare. He can get super rough when y’all are going at it ( especially if he has to punish you ) and he knows it so he makes sure to treat you like the most precious, fragile princess during aftercare.

Need something to drink? He’ll get it. Hungry? He’ll make you a sandwich. Wanna take a bath but can’t get up cause legs = jello? He’ll carry you. He will literally do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and then snuggle you like there’s no tomorrow.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Yeonjun is an ass man all the way. Sorry, but that’s just the truth🤷. So his favorite body part on you is your ass. But he doesn’t discriminate. Big booty, lil booty. It’s all the same to him:)

Yeonjun strikes me as someone who is secretly self conscious so I don’t think he really has a favorite part of his own body. I mean, the only part of himself I can see him being fully confident in is his shlong, and even that’s after being together for awhile. So maybe that??

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Junnie is into cum play so...

Yeah.

He will cum anywhere and absolutely love it.

On your face, he’ll pick it up with his fingers and make you suck it off. On your tummy, get ready for round two while he rubs it around on your skin. On your pussy, he’ll finger you with it. In your pussy, he could sit and watch it drip out of you for hours. In your mouth, you better show it to him on your tongue and either swallow it or kiss him.

And he cums quite a bit...

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

He really wants you to dom him. Just once. Cause he doesn’t know what it’s like and he’s curious. But he doesn’t know how to ask you cause he knows your his subby lil baby. And what if he ends up not liking it?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He’s definitely hooked up a couple times, so he knows what he’s doing and he knows how to please you. However, you are the first person he’s been able really explore all his interests with and his kink list has definitely expanded since he met you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Either missionary or doggy.

Yeonjun likes having complete control over you and everything you do. He also likes having you suffocatingly close while he ruins you.

It changes in the middle of a round a lot too. One second you’re on your back for him, the next he’s flipped you over and is pressing your face into the pillows.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He is goofy in a serious way.

Yeonjun is a bully dom, so he takes every chance he gets to make fun of you. Especially during sex.

He will tease you like there’s no tomorrow. He calls you all sorts of names and makes fun of the things you do and the way you sound, the like. He’s just straight mean.

But if you give him even the foreshadowing of the slightest lip, he’ll switch on a dime and be all jokes aside, serious Yeonjun.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He keeps himself pretty trimmed down there. Not fully shaved but not super wild. I feel likes he’s the only one who actually makes sure to keep up with the up keep.

And he definitely doesn’t expect anything from you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

He can be sickeningly romantic when he wants to. Rose petals, candles, slow sensual sex, the whole shibang. You cannot tell me that this boy isn’t at least a lil bit of a hopeless romantic.

And when y’all are going at it like usual he likes forcing you to look into his eyes, and he’s invading your personal space just a bit, so it’s pretty intimate.

But he can get pretty animalistic pretty fast.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He’ll only really wack off when he’s on tour, and even then he needs your help. Whether it be Skype sex, a phone call or just looking at pictures you sent him for time just as this one, he always has to either see or hear you is some way. Or he just can’t cum.

But other then that, he doesn’t really need to wank it🤷 He’s got you so why would he need to?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Buckle up kiddos-

Cum play

Degradation

Impact play (he will slap your face)

Bondage

Slight breeding kink

Spit kink

Sir kink

Voyeurism

Sadist

Humiliation kink

Almost exhibitionism

Or in other words, Yeonjun is one big kinky bully and we stan😊

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He’ll fuck you literaly any where. Of course, he’s not gonna start going at it in the middle of a family dinner or anything, but he’ll do it in the kitchen just a room away.

At the end of the day, he doesn’t care where or who’s around but ultimately he’s the only one who gets to see you like that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

He gets turned on by the simplest of things, if you blink at him in the wrong tone than he’s pulling you away to privacy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

He won’t do anything that will seriously hurt you. Sure, he’ll slap you around a bit and spank you, but he refuses to do anything that could have long lasting damage. For example, knife play.

He also isn’t 100% against sharing you with someone else, but he is hesitant as fuck.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He doesn’t have a preference. Junnie loves giving and receiving equally.

For the most part, you sucking him off is actually him fucking your mouth as punishment for mouthing off or something. And when he eats you out it’s as a reward. There are some exceptions but those are true for most circumstances.

And he is absolutely fantastic at oral. Like, he just may be the best you’ve ever had. Did you see him with the grapes?

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Really he does both. As most things with Yeonjun, it depends.

He could be absolutely plowing into you one second, moving so fast and being so rough that you’re wondering if he’s even human. Then the next moment he’s grinding into you and being all soft and slow. Though slow usually comes with tons of teasing.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

Oh, he’s all for it.

Sex is sex. And he knows how you have you crying and trembling within minutes.

Though he does prefer taking his time and torturing you, he doesn’t mind taking you quickly in a broom closet before a show or something.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Jun will try almost anything once. He’s very open minded when it comes to different kinks and if he sees potential in it, he’ll do it.

And if you haven’t noticed from the previous letters, he had no problem with fucking you in a public place.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

He last so long I almost feel sorry for you. He’ll just hold his own orgasm while pounding into you and making you cum over and over again. Sometimes he holds out for so long you start to wonder if he’s actually enjoying it. But then he finally cums. Hard. And you’re like, oh.

He can also go like two or three rounds before he gets tired and needs a break. But they are both long, torturous rounds soo... good luck❤️

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

Did someone say toys? Hold up, let’s go through his toy box.

Vibrator, dildo, restraints (many different kinds), gags, blindfolds, whips, and a few paddles.

Yeah, he might have just a few🤷

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

I-

Once again, good luck.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

He doesn’t really moan a bunch. Mostly it’s just grunts. Oh, and he growls. Like 🥵

But he talks a lot so you get to here him make sound in the few and far between instances where he isn’t yapping your ear off (in a good way).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

He lets you get away with a lot more than the typical dom would let their sub get away with. It’s mostly because he knows he can be kinda rough and mean, but also cause he loves you so much that he can’t find it in himself to actually get annoyed or upset with you sometimes. Also, your absolutely adorable when your acting up and ‘get away with it’.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Let’s all say this together, big dick Yeonjun.

We all been knew. Like, c’mon. He radiates so much big dick energy I think we’d be pretty shook if he didn’t have a third leg situation going on.

So, imma say about six and a half, seven inches.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He goes through fazes of having the highest sex drive in town.

Like, for two or three weeks it seems like he can’t get enough of you. It’s almost every night that y’all are doin somethin. Or he’s playin Wack a Jun.

But the he’s back to normal and has the sex drive of any average dude.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

He try’s to stay awake until you fall asleep. But baby is just so worn out🥺

Y’all start cuddling and he’s out like a light.

#txt #txt x reader #txt headcanons #txt reactions #txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun headcanons #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together

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peakyxtommy · 5 years ago

Text

Wonder - T.S.

Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around song Wonder by Shawn Mendes. Tommy wonders about his love for the reader and has to make a decision to confess or deny it.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: Angst, Sadness, Fluff

A/N: Enjoyed writing this. Ya Girl Snapped LOL Listen to Wonder b/c that song snaps.

Gif Credit: @myimaginesworld

I wonder if I'm being real

Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel?

I wonder, wouldn't it be nice

To live inside a world that isn't black and white?

His heart ached again in this lifetime. His heart has not ached this way in the longest of time, since he lost his first true love. It was a losing battle because the only thing that painted his mind was the scene of you crying last night in his office. He did what he did best which was push people away. It was a trait he had gotten good at from a young age. Thinking he was protecting himself but was really doing the opposite. Avoiding being vulnerable, the risk that comes with letting another person in. Letting them see the deepest roots of your soul. The actions of the past that caused trauma on the present. Wishing it all could be wiped away in the future.

He remembers the crack in your voice as the scene replays in his head. You came to his office, to be taken out to dinner as he had forgotten earlier in the week. When you show up to his office ready to be dined, you're met with the same old excuse again. That’s when your voices started out in a yelling match to now be in hushed whispers of the rarest parts of your mind, on display for the other.

“Do you even love me?” Your finger points accusingly at him as he stands tall with a small space between your two bodies, but the tension felt made that space feel like you were across the room. It was a question that broke his heart even more than the first time the words left your soft lips. The way your brow furrowed and the curvature of your lips frowned with deep sadness, he knew this wasn’t a game anymore.

“Why would you even ask that?” He questions in defense, not daring to meet your eyes, finding his reflection in his black shoes more interesting.

“Lately, I can feel the distance growing between us, like a ship lost at sea, that’s getting harder to reach. I know I told you how I felt, a few weeks back. I didn't need to hear you say it back but, since then, it’s like you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. It hurts.”

You whisper the last part so soft, he almost misses it. He hears it but the thought scares him. Makes him want to run even further away than when you first said it to him. He stares as you hold back the tears in your eyes, silently pleading for him to say something, to be brave enough to let you in. He remains silent.

“I love you Tommy, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s like lighting fires with matches, but it’s not catching with you. I keep leading myself into the flames, to keep on burning. It’s not enough to lose myself when you get to walk away fine, not broken hearted.”

“Then maybe you should go. Find someone that is good enough for you!” He screams, throwing the glass in his hand against the wall, watching as it shatters into small pieces. This was the last straw for you. You just shake your head in disappointment, as he tries to get the last word in.

As he watched you leave his office with the door slamming loudly, shaking the walls. He knew it was a mistake that he didn’t go after you or say the truth he felt in the deepest part of his being. So instead he sat in his office staring out the window nursing a bottle of whiskey and a pack of smokes, hoping it would take some of the pain away. It doesn’t but it at least numbs the thought of you in his heart and mind, at least for a little while.

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that's on my mind

Been dreamin' that you feel it too

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

He felt it felt deep inside his bones from the moment he met you. He couldn’t explain why when you talked to him it made everything feel different, feel new. He wondered about you. His mind couldn't stop traveling to the future. He let himself dream freely of loving you. He wanted to tell you the truth but he was afraid. You made him happy. You covered the deepest scars and wounds with your words. Words that spoke truth, spoke volume. You were sweet and kind, the almost exact opposite of him. You spoke with a smile on your face every time you graced him with your presence.

It had been three days since he last saw and heard from you. He didn’t blame you at all, he blamed himself. He knew the look on Polly’s face the second day meant she knew something was up and today she ripped him a new one as usual, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen to her reasoning, already knowing the truth. He wished the truth didn’t hurt, that denial could be easier but it wasn’t.

He spent his days forcing himself into work to not let his mind get too caught in silence because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and what you were doing in the small moments of your days away from him. It was only at night right before he closed his eyes he thought of you and him, the moments you shared together.

“Tommy what are you doing, put me down!” You laugh as he spins you around in his arms.

“I have good news, you’re the first I'm sharing with!” He says with a wide grin, as he places you back on the ground.

“What’s the good news Tommy?” You cheer, just as excited as him.

“I got the betting license needed and I'll be able to expand to own a club in London. My plan is working out great so far.”

“That’s excellent news Tom. I’m proud of you and know your family will be glad as well.”

“To celebrate, I got you something.” He pulls out a small black rectangle box placing it into your open palms. You open the box, to reveal a three stone diamond pendant necklace. It was the first of many moments where he would leave you speechless in a good way and gift you in a sweet way.

“Thank you so much Tommy. You didn’t have to do this. I should be the one surprising you with a gift. I love it so much, I'm never going to take this off. “ You kiss him sweetly and allow him to put it around your neck.

“You’re my girl, you’re a gift enough to me daily (Y/N).”

I wonder why I'm so afraid

Of saying something wrong, I never said I was a saint

“I love you Tommy.” You spoke the next morning naked limbs entangled in another as your forehead rested against his collar bones, fingers tracing circles into his milky skin. Those words had been on your mind a lot the past few weeks. You were afraid to say them, to leave yourself open to being hurt.

The closer you grew to him as staying the night more at his house and even slowly leaving a few of your things there. You knew it was him that made your heartbeat skip just a little faster and even when he made it angry or spark with fear due to his dangerous risk taking, he also calmed it like no other. Even though he wasn’t the best with words, when he spoke to you he tried his best and would say the words that seemed to soothe you back to peace. His actions of holding you closer at night or early in the morning or surprise gifts, made you believe it was all worth the risk of saying those three words. Three words that spoke volume, that could grow or crush you in the small fraction of a second. He was worth the risk.

When he heard you say those words, it’s like a knife pierced his heart. A heart that already knew death and heartache. A heart that was on the mend, but still wounded. The words you spoke stroked fear inside of him. A man able to strategize, control men, and kill his enemies was afraid to love. He didn’t want to mess this up or say something wrong, even in this moment.

Those words were real, the emotions were real, and that what was happening between the two of you was real. It wasn’t a game or dream, but a connection. A connection he didn’t want to end or break. He knew he wasn’t a saint and surely he was going to Hell, but with you in his arms, he felt whole, felt holy.

He did what he did best and shoved his emotions down. He didn’t say anything because he knew you weren’t expecting him too. The best he could do was offer a small smile and a peck on the lips as he held you closer to his chest, afraid that time and his feelings would catch up with him.

I wonder, when I cry into my hands

I'm conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man

He wasn’t one for deep emotions, because it made him feel less than a man but with you he could be vulnerable. He could fully be himself and you drew that out of him slowly at first.

You tell he was angry by the slam of the front door, soon followed by the slam of his office door. Both shaking the house into silence and then the chatter continued like it was a normal occurrence. You knew not to bother him right now, deciding to let him cool down for a bit before going to see what was wrong.

You waited an hour before knocking, making your entrance known with a hot cup of tea and a plate of dinner on a tray. The scene in front of your eyes almost shocks you, but you handle it by addressing it head on.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” You speak in a soft whisper setting the tray on his desk, as he furiously wipes his wet eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine. It’s all fucking fine!” He huffs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to will the tears away. You take a sit across from him in the empty chair allowing him to have his space, never seeing him this upset before.

“Everything’s not fine. You’re angry and upset, upset enough that you’re crying. If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you. I’ll be here to listen.” You speak biting your lip out of nervousness of wondering if you pushed him too far.

“Men aren’t supposed to cry, crying is weak! It serves no purpose.” He swallows the last bit of the glass of whiskey he’s been nursing next to the half filled bottle. His eyes still don’t meet yours.

You finally come around to his chair to sit in his lap, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“That’s a lie because everyone cries. Crying isn’t weak, it’s a normal human emotion. It actually does you some good. I sometimes feel better after I cry and sometimes when I’m crying with the right person, it makes me feel even better than when I’m crying alone. I promise, I won’t think less of you if you cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time and hold all your emotions in. It’s okay to let it all out.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, knowing this man wouldn’t let you easily but you would open your arms wide enough to let him know you were a safe place, that you could be his safe place, his safe haven from all of the things going on in his world and mind. That much he appreciated and would hold on too, even if he couldn’t fully express himself emotionally yet.

And I wonder if someday you'll be by my side

And tell me that the world will end up alright

You were sitting in your living room reading when you heard a knock at the door. You move swiftly to see who it could be at this late hour, having a feeling but pushing it to the back of your mind. It was only a week since you last heard and saw of him. You brace yourself for when you open the door, to come in contact with his tall and pale figure, standing in your doorway. His blue eyes had bags underneath them and his face was stone cold.

“Can I please talk with you?” He asks.

“Now you have words to say, a week later. You seemed okay, not saying anything when we had words in your office!” You huff with anger, crossing your arms as you both stood in the doorway, cold air, nipping at you both, almost colder than the air between you two.

“It will only take two minutes. If you want me to go after that then I’ll leave. I promise.”

“Go on.”

“I’m sorry for being daft and hurting your feelings. It was wrong of me. I’ve only been avoiding you because I love you. I was afraid of letting you get close because I know I’m not good enough for you and that you can do better. I’m selfish because I want you to choose me even if I'm not the best option for you.

I’m plagued by darkness, but you’re the light that shines through. Even from the day we first met, I knew there was something special about you. I’m not ready to lose that, lose you, by letting fear control my heart. I will never be perfect, as good, and will always be in the head of danger, but I do promise to try my best to be the best I can be, if you will still have me? I really do love you (Y/N), even if it’s taken me this long to realize it.”

You can see the redness of his cheeks and the wetness pooling in his eyes as he makes his declaration to you. You can still feel that familiar sting of heartache from the week earlier, but you also feel the warmth of the love you have shared for him inside the depth of your inner being. There will never be love without heartache and making those hard decisions of staying or walking away.

“Tommy you’re enough for me. I see the darkness and the danger, but I see the good in you. You need to start seeing it as well. If I had to choose you over anyone else, I would choose you time and time again because I love you Thomas Shelby, and only you. You have my heart and you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m still hurt by your words and actions, and if it happens I will leave. So don’t mess up. We’re a team and we both have things we can work on together because no one’s perfect.” You speak with seriousness in your tone but also warmth and love.

“Thank you.” Is all he speaks as his cold fingers find your cheeks and your ice lips touch soon becoming warm in his embrace. You let him into your home to warm up and have a cup of tea. Spending the remainder of the evening reading a poetry book you both enjoy, taking turns reading pages to each other, enjoying being in the embrace of another again.

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

He no longer had to wonder about your love, finally allowing himself to fall into you. To trust you fully and to let the walls surrounding him and his heart come down, knowing you were going to be worth it.

Taglist:

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

#Peaky Blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders preference #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #wonder #lyric imagine #peakyxtommy

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notbecauseofvictories · 5 years ago

Note

Hi Sarah! My friend and I are starting a bookclub (as much as you can with two people who aren't pressed for deadlines) and I was wondering if you have any recommendations? (That is if you have time to rec anything!) We're starting off with Deathless and have Fitzgerald next in line somewhere but I def want to try to expand the genres we read and tbh from years of following you, I trust your judgement

I don’t...like giving recommendations? At least not directly, it seems like too much opportunity for getting it wrong. Everybody has their own tastes, after all, and even the best of friends don’t necessarily vibe with what you vibe with. (I’ve experienced this with multiple friends, so I know what I’m talking about.) Truly, one of the reasons that my whole “I’m going to get back into reading for pleasure!” push has been so successful is that I only bother with books that interest me, and stop reading when they fail to catch my attention.

But I’ve now read at least 60 books in 2020, which is approximately 60 more than I’ve read in the years prior, so I’m happy to share that. Below is my list of recent reads, beginning to end, along with a very short review---I keep this list in the notes app on my phone, so they have to be. Where I’ve talked about a book in a post, I’ve tried to link to it.

Peruse, and if something catches your interest I hope you enjoy!

2020 Reading List

Crazy Rich Asians series, Kevin Kwan (here)

Blackwater, Michael McDowell (here; pulpy horror and southern gothic in one novel; come for the monster but stay for the family drama.)

Fire and Hemlock, Diane Wynne Jones (here; weird and thoughtful, in ways I’m still thinking about)

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn (here; loved it! I can see why people glommed onto it)

Swamplandia!, Karen Russell (unfinished, I could not get past the first paragraph; just....no.)

Rules of Scoundrels series, Sarah MacLean (an enjoyable romp through classic romancelandia, though if you read through 4 back to back you realize that MacLean really only writes 1 type of relationship and 1 type of sexual encounter, though I do appreciate insisting that the hero go down first.)

The Bear and the Nightingale, Katherine Arden (here)

Dread Nation, Justine Ireland (great, put it with Stealing Thunder in terms of fun YA fantasy that makes everything less white and Eurocentric)

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson (VERY good. haunting good.)

Tell My Horse, Zora Neale Hurston (I read an interesting critique of Hurston that said she stripped a lot of the radicalism out of black stories - these might be an example, or counterexample. I haven't decided yet.)

The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society, T. Kingfisher (fun!)

St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, Karen Russell (some of these short stories are wonderful; however, Swamplandia's inspiration is still unreadable, which is wild.)

17776, Jon Bois (made me cry. deeply human. A triumph of internet storytelling)

The Girl with All the Gifts, M. R. Carey (deeply enjoyable. the ending is a bittersweet kick in the teeth, and I really enjoyed the adults' relationships)

The Door in the Hedge and Other Stories, Robin McKinley (enjoyable, but never really resolved into anything.)

The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley (fun, but feels very early fantasy - or maybe I've just read too many of the subsequent knock-offs.)

Mrs. Caliban, Rachel Ingalls (weird little pulp novel.)

All Systems Red, Martha Wells (enjoyable, but I don't get the hype. won't be looking into the series unless opportunity arises.)

A People's History of Chicago, Kevin Coval (made me cry. bought a copy. am still thinking about it.)

The Sol Majestic, Ferrett Steinmetz (charming, a sf novel mostly about fine dining)

House in the Cerulean Sea, TJ Klune (immensely enjoyable read, for all it feels like fic with the serial numbers filed off)

The Au Pair, Emma Rous (not bad, but felt like it wanted to be more than it is)

The Night Tiger, Yangsze Choo (preferred this to Ghost Bride; I enjoy a well-crafted mystery novel and this delivered)

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula Le Guin (unfinished, I cannot fucking get into Le Guin and should really stop trying)

The Ghost Bride, Yangsze Choo (enjoyable, but not nearly as fun as Ghost Bride - the romance felt very disjointed, and could have used another round of editing)

Temptation's Darling, Johanna Lindsey (pure, unadulterated id in a romance novel, complete with a girl dressing as a boy to avoid detection)

Social Creature, Tara Isabella Burton (a strange, dark psychological portrait; really made a mark even though I can't quite put my finger on why)

The Girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins (slow at first, but picks up halfway through and builds nicely; a whiff of Gone Girl with the staggered perspectives building together)

Stealing Thunder, Alina Boyden (fun Tortall vibes, but set in Mughal India)

The Traitor Baru Cormorant; The Monster Baru Commorant, The Tyrant Baru Cormorant, Seth Dickinson (LOVE this, so much misery, terrible, ecstatic; more here)

This Is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar, Max Gladstone (epistolary love poetry, vicious and lovely; more here)

The Elementals, Michael McDowell

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir (didn't like this one as much as I thought I would; narrator's contemporary voice was so jarring against the stylized world and action sequences read like the novelization for a video game; more here)

Finna, Nino Cipri (a fun little romp through interdimensional Ikea, if on the lighter side)

Magic for Liars, Sarah Gailey (engrossing, even if I could see every plot twist coming from a mile away)

Desdemona and the Deep, C. S. E. Cooney (enjoyed the weirdness & the fae bits, but very light fare)

A Blink of the Screen, Terry Pratchett (admittedly just read this for the Discworld bits)

A Memory Called Empire, Arkady Martine (not as good about politics and colonialism as Baru, but still a powerful book about The Empire, and EXTREMELY cool worldbuilding that manages to be wholly alien and yet never heavily expositional)

Blackfish City, Sam J. Miller (see my post)

Last Werewolf, Glen Duncan (didn't finish, got to to first explicit sex scene and couldn't get any further)

Prosper's Demon, KJ Parker (didn't work for me...felt like a short story that wanted to be fleshed out into a novel)

The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

His Majesty's Dragon, Naomi Novik (extremely fun, even for a reader who doesn't much like Napoleonic stories)

Three Parts Dead, Max Gladstone (fun romp - hard to believe that this is the same author as Time War though you can see glimmers of it in the imagery here)

A Scot in the Dark, Sarah MacLean (palette cleanser, she does write a good romance novel even it's basically the same romance novel over and over)

The Resurrectionist, E. B. Hudspeth (borrowed it on a whim one night, kept feeling like there was something I was supposed to /get/ about it, but never did - though I liked the Mutter Museum parallels)

Stories of Your Life and Others, Ted Chiang (he's a better ideas guy than a writer, though Hell Is The Absence of God made my skin prickle all over)

Gods of Jade and Shadow, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fun, very much a throwback to my YA days of fairytale retellings, though obviously less European)

Four Roads Cross, Max Gladstone (it turns out I was a LOT more fond of Tara than I initially realized - plus this book had a good Pratchett-esque pacing and reliance on characterization)

Get in Trouble, Kelly Link (reading this after the Chiang was instructive - Link is such a better storyteller, better at prioritizing the human over the concept)

Gods Behaving Badly, Marie Phillips

Soulless; Changeless; Blameless, all by Gail Carriger (this series is basically a romance novel with some fantasy plot thrown in for fun; extremely charming and funny)

Black Leopard, Red Wolf, Marlon James (got about 1/3 of the way through and had to wave the white flag; will try again because I like the plot and the worldbuilding; the tone is just so hard to get through)

Pew, Catherine Lacey (a strange book, I'm still thinking about it; a good Southern book, though)

Nuremberg Diary, GM Gilbert (it took me two months to finish, and was worth it)

River of Teeth, Sarah Gailey (I wanted to like this one a lot more than I actually did; would have made a terrific movie but ultimately was not a great novel. Preferred Magic for Liars.)

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (extremely fun, though more trippy than Gods and the plot didn't work as well for me - though it was very original)

The New Voices of Fantasy, Peter S. Beagle (collected anthology, with some favorites I've read before Ursula Vernon's "Jackalope Wives", "Hungry Daughters of Starving Mothers" "The Husband Stitch"; others that were great new finds "Selkie Stories are for Losers" from Sofia Satamar and "A Kiss With Teeth" from Max Gladstone and "The Philosophers" from Adam Ehrlich Sachs)

#from the bookshelf #Anonymous

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georgemackayhey · 5 years ago

Text

Like Real People Do

“Hii can you do an imagine, "Your first time with George" maybe as an insecure/uneasy reader"

"Can you pleeaaassse write more nsfw stuff? More Than A Night Out gave me my rights"

Alright yall, heed the 18+ warning!

Seriously, I really don't want to block anyone (I love yall!) On that note... I wouldn't say this theme is my strong suit, nor have I been in a good headspace, but boy did I try my best ♡

w/c: 3k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You didn't date.

You called off meeting up with strangers in bars and listening to them tell half-assed life stories, embellishing in hopes they'd get to have their way with you in the same evening.

You were happy to mingle among friends on weekends and at parties, but going home alone felt safe. Keeping to yourself was the best bet, having learned your lesson by now. You recalled more unpleasant domestic experiences than ones that left you daydreaming of more. So you simply stayed single.

Some of your friends didn't regard your limits, tricking you into double dates and the like. Other friends understood but still gushed over their brothers and cousins in hopes you'd be intrigued by their qualities and demand to be introduced with wedding rings on standby.

And then there were the friends who never asked or bothered you about it at all. George was one of those friends.

He was your ride to your friend groups monthly movie theater meet up's. And he always let you take home his leftovers after dinners he wasted chatting with your mutual friends about books and culture.

In turn, you let George borrow your favorite albums. And you'd always saved him a seat in the back of bars you had to show up to for friend's birthday parties, while they threw themselves between strangers on the dance floor. Times like then were when you got to know George best.

And during the last month of summer, George invited everyone to take over a beach house big enough for your ever-expanding group and more. Apparently some of his distant family owned the property but were hardly ever in the area to enjoy it. So they gave George a spare key, and insisted he treated the place like his own.

And thankfully, then, between your friends racing to the shore in the witching hour, and when everyone split up into pairs for the evening, George kept you company. You made a habit of joining each other on the rickety front porch, sharing a drink, and usually sitting in silence.

But there were nights you talked about the constellations you could see above the roaring ocean. And where you'd like to live if you had an unlimited budget. Where you'd come from and what you wanted, and didn't.

You went home to the most dreary September of all time. You used to adore the solitude of your dull apartment. But you missed waking up to your friend's laughter, having someone, if not many more, to enjoy market runs and mealtimes with. You had never felt more lonely. And you couldn't stop thinking of George.

When he came round to give you a lift to the movie theater, your usual ride together was quiet. The silence between you was heavy- you wondered if he noticed. You sat together in a boring film. Or maybe it was the best of all time. You could only focus on how close George was to you, how you'd recognized the feeling of his company. You wondered how to ask him to come around more often, without sounding pathetically desperate.

Luckily birthday parties and Halloween bashes kept coming. And you kept finding quiet places to listen to George tell his stories. And he would always share his drink, and ask about your family, and how you were doing.

One night when he invited everyone around to his flat and only a couple of your friends managed to show up, they headed out soon after dinner. You were left alone in George's kitchen to help clean up and wonder what to do with the rest of the early blue evening.

And even though your heart beat in your throat, and everything you thought to say sounded stupid in your head, you determined it was time.

During a much too easy card game at Georges table, when a conversation about some of the horrifically silly things George had witnessed you manage in the past; you decided to stop testing the waters, and address them.

"I can't believe you put up with me." You grinned, peering past your hand of playing cards to the guy sat beside you.

"I just like you," George answered simply, his ocean eye flickering up to meet yours for a beat.

"Really?" You asked, pushing for him to say more, hoping he got the hint.

"I really do." George grinned shyly, turning his attention back to his hand of playing cards he kept accidentally giving you glimpses of. You watched George bite his lip and fiddle with the cards as if he were arranging them just so.

"What if... I like you too?" It wasn't just his tousled yellow hair, or the way his smile was warmer than a ray of sun. It was his lame jokes. His soft answers. Him.

"You don't date." George rose a brow, keeping his eyes turned away. He wasn't bittered or mocking. He was accepting. George laid down his cards, to a game you weren't focused on at all anymore.

"I like you, George." You admit in a hush. His stunning eyes met yours. He seemed to consider your words, and much more. He started to speak a couple of times as he searched your features.

"So maybe... we can start slow..." You offered. You had never planned on opening up to anyone. But George had stuck around. He was always there when you needed him even when you hadn't known what you needed. He didn't make fun of your unreasonable anxieties and he always laughed at your jokes. Even the ones you knew weren't funny. You hadn't expected to ever let anyone close enough, you hadn't trusted anyone could feel like home. But before you could even decide, it was as if your heart grew a mind of its own and lept right out of your chest into George's orbit. So since he already seemed to have you, it seemed like common courtesy to at least let the guy know.

With a shy smile, George bore his brilliant blue eyes into yours, searching them for assurance. As you looked to each other you felt his knuckles brush yours, the back of his hand nervously creeping closer. George took one of his fingers and looped it around one of yours while he agreed that it would be silly for two people who felt the same way about each other to do nothing about it. So you did.

George started coming around when there wasn't any reason to, sometimes bringing take away, or asking you on walks around the park. Sometimes you'd sit in silence next to your favorite old tree and enjoy that last purple swirls in the dusk sky. And sometimes you'd watch films, one after another, pausing only to argue over the ending or make silly predictions. And times like then, you curled into George's side like a sleepy cat. He'd carded his warm hand through your hair as you drifted off, content.

You got snowed into his flat when you showed up a few hours before the first-holiday party of the season; to help bake treats for everyone. As ice froze everyone's doors shut, the party was swiftly canceled but your plans for the evening weren't ruined at all.

George set up his den with extra blankets, finding the holiday channel on the telly, standing to refill your cup of tea during commercials so you didn't have to move. He kissed you that night, soft and kind, and slow. You both fell asleep on the floor among the mess of all the blankets he owned, while snow piled up and over the window sills.

You spent New Year's Eve much like the past couple before, watching your wild group of pals take shots and dance to bad music. George listened to you talk as you waited for the new year to set in, and he kept one of his fingers looped around yours almost all night long.

When the snow started to melt and your group of friends started squeezing into their cut off jeans from the year before, George invited everyone back to the beach house. He set a date and sent out invitations in the mail like it was the damn 1800's. Most every rsvp got sent back with the box labeled "going "grossly marked up.

George offered to give you a lift there, a day early so he could stock up on emergency snacks and soaps and even more DVDs in case the rains came and ruined your fun on the shore. You agreed happily and walked through the isles of a department store together, picking out essentials based on how well you knew your group of friends who might need them.

And while you laughed and helped and listened, you grew increasingly more fucking terrified. Because you'd never spent so long enjoying one person's company. You were enamored with George yes, but what's more, was- you trusted him. You never thought it was possible. But you really did. And the thing that you were most scared of, was having to accept the possibility that he didn't feel the same way.

Things like this had gone wrong before. Granted, things had never gone remotely close to this right before, either. But you still prepared yourself to hurt. It was always a possibility you were too afraid of risking. But George was different. You somehow knew even if he hurt you, it would be the loveliest heartbreak you'd ever feel.

You got to the beach house, completely abandoned since the last time you left it. You found your someone's favorite lost t-shirt in one of the bathrooms, and a lot of dust on the shelves. After clearing away some of the cobwebs and unloading all your groceries to their respective places, night began to fall.

The sky was still blue enough to admire the roaring ocean from the front porch. George brought out a couple of drinks, and you sat there together like you had the summer before. Only now, it was a little too chilly. So you said goodnight to the scenery, making a note of spending extra time to soak up its beauty the next morning.

And on your way inside you joked about how someone was bound to forget to pack something they needed, or bring one of the things George asked them to. You were wrapped up in laughter as you turned out the lights and drifted to settle in.

When you headed to the bedroom where all your bags had been discarded, you scurried off to the ensuite shower. This was the room George stayed in last year, a space you'd never stepped foot near until tonight.

And when you stepped back out into the bedroom, you realized you didn't want to leave.

George was busy turning down his bed covers to the dim night light in a far off corner. A dark shine beamed in from the moon in the window next to the quilted bed, and George never looked more beautiful- perfectly tousled hair. Kind, sleepy eyes. Yeah, you'd let him break your heart.

"What?" He laughed in a warm low rumble, catching you staring. You bit back a chuckle and crossed the room to meet him.

"I just love you. That's all." You informed, circling one of your fingers around his, gazing up to the guy.

You'd said so in passing, during game nights he helped you win and in the middle of lunches he'd managed to talk you into ordering. But nothing prompted you now, and the statement held an all-new kind of weight.

"I love you, too," George whispered in turn, raising his other hand to your cheek.

"Can I stay in here? With you?" You asked, keeping your gaze set and your voice low even though no one else was around to hear.

"I'd like that." George assured with a tiny grin.

You clamored into the big bed, pointing out the window to the moon over the ocean. George eased in behind you, gazing all the same. You tangled your hands together staring out the window for a while, giggling over nothing every now and again. He was so impossibly close, so warm next to you.

"George." You turned your head slowly, catching his attention. He looked at you, silently wondering what you wanted. But somehow you didn't need to say.

Somehow he knew to lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, you could tell he didn't want to. When George looked at you, you could tell he longed for more, but still kept his distance, kept your meek nature in mind. He was too kind, too considerate. There weren't words to convey how you felt. You knew what came next. You wanted George.

You reached for his hand, and brought it to rest in the dip of your waist. He kept his eyes steady on yours while his thumb brushed over the skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up.

"Kiss me again?" You asked, barely a whisper. George leaned in, almost before you could finish asking, to press his mouth against yours. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt to pull him closer while George let his hand travel to the small of your back, holding you perfectly against him. He kissed you slow and deep like he was trying to put you in a trance.

Whether he meant to or not, you wondered if it worked, as you melted into the mattress all while lazily pulling him almost all the way on top of you. This was as far as you'd ever taken things with George, yanking at each other's clothes while you kissed until you couldn't breathe.

So when you gently pushed George away, he started to retract back to his side of the bed without putting up a fight. But you sat up too. And George watched on in wonder when you sheepishly slid into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

Without a word you pulled George's shirt up, silently suggesting he take it all the way off.

When he did, you didn't relish the sight long before you dove in for another kiss. His skin was burning, and you could feel his heart hammer when your hand traveled across his chest. You moved your kisses to his neck, reveling in the feeling of being so close. George kept one arm gently wrapped around you as your teeth grazed a spot under his ear that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Y/n. Are you- Do you..." George began, keeping his hold around you all the same. You pulled away, gazing to George through your lashes while your heart teetered on the edge.

"Do you not want to?" You worried. You were so finally sure. But George might not have been. So you prepared to be let down gently, knowing George would at least be kind enough to break your fall.

"Yes." George let out a breathy laugh, reaching to hold your head in both of his hands. "Of course I want to do this. But I know how you feel and if you don't-"

"I trust you, George." You nodded, searching his eyes while a smile bloomed across your face. You'd been so nervous for a moment like this to come true. But everything was different with George. He made you laugh when you never expected to, he made you think about things in ways you'd never even considered. He was so the one for you.

You wrapped your fingers around George's wrist, bringing his plus to your lips. You watched George's eyes flutter as you planted a small kiss there, before moving his hand to your hip.

"Just go slow." You nodded, watching George's eyes open to meet yours. You leaned your forehead against his while he nodded, making you laugh.

He decorated your cheeks with gentle pecks and moved his hands under the hem of your shirt as you leaned in to capture his lips with yours again. And because you spent a while that way, you weren't nervous to act upon taking things even further.

Kisses turned seering as George wrangled your shirt off. His lips traveled down your throat as you settled deeper into his lap, shocked by how easy this was. Your kisses grew longer and sloppier while your layers started to collect on the floor.

You impressed yourself by how effortlessly you reach to pull away George's trousers. He managed to kick them aside while you kept your lips on his, laughing between breaks for air.

But when he pulled you back into his lap, when his fingers danced around your waistband, you were suddenly swept up in the realization that this was happening. Like, really happening.

"Uh, wait a second." You halted in a shaky breath. You didn't want to stop, not completely. You just needed to assess things for a moment, to catch up with this new reality in which this wasn't upsetting or dull or any of the things being with anyone else ever was.

George stalled in an instant, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. "Do you want to stop?" He asked gently, hands firmly pressed against your back, eyes glowing right into yours.

"No way." You breathed with a grin. You knew it would be better than before, with George. Probably the best. It already was, you realized with a smile, encouraging George one more time. Your hips rolled against his, causing his heavenly sigh in your ear.

He wriggled you out of the last of your clothes and made you feel like a wonder of the world, tracing the shapes you were made up of with his pretty fingers. By the time you were laid against the pillows admiring the halo of light ringing around George's waves of hair, he asked again if you were sure about this.

"So long as you are." You swallowed.

"Of course I'm sure. God, I'm so sure." George pressed a kiss to your face between sentences, making you giggle and swoon all at once. "I've never been so sure of anyone but you. I'd like to keep it that way." George rambled, peppering a few more loving, gentle kisses to your cheek. "But if you want to stop for any reason, we'll stop. Just say so."

"Thank you, George." You grinned after a beat, knowing he really meant it. Recognizing how deeply he really cared for you, watching him search your face for validation. Watching George watch you, contentedly, like he had dozens of times before now. He gave you a slowly sleepy blink, ocean blue eyes shining brighter when they opened again.

George leaned closer, hovering over you with his eyes locked on yours. He molded a kiss to your lips before anything. Then to your cheek. Then his eyes fluttered to meet yours once more.

"Slow." You rose a brow, whispering a reminder, but it was really more of a green light for him to finally take the next step.

George repeated you, in a barely audible hush, soaking up the look in your eye. A lithe grin painted his lips while you held your breath. You accounted for the feeling of his fingers loosely tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing across your temple every now and again. You'd nearly forgotten everything else while swimming in those warm icy eyes of his. He didn't break you from your reverie when he gave a small nod. The gesture only settled you further, as you responded by lacing your fingers around the back of his neck.

George kept his hand nearly cradling your head as he pushed closer. His thumb brushing across the pulse of your temple was keeping you grounded while your heart threatened to soar into the clouds. While your breathing grew deeper, while he moved as close as he could until he couldn't anymore.

"You okay?" George asked, his voice beautifully strained.

"Uh-huh." You gazed at him through hooded eyes as you adjusted everything, including the realization that this was happening. He wasn't even moving yet. And he waited until you had to ask him to, with his head buried in your neck. After a couple of breaths, you looked to George, giving him a nod. He pressed his forehead against yours and moved his hips.

A tame, steady pace set in as you stopped George from asking if you were alright, again, assuring him you were really, very good. Your raspy encouragement must have given George the sound authority to go about awing you further.

He kept one hand against your temple while his other trailed down your side, fingers deliberately pressed into your skin as he brought your leg around his hip. George's strong-arm hooked under your back to keep you secured against him. He picked up the pace as your hands tangled in his hair, around his shoulder, holding on to the moment. To George.

You wondered why you waited so long to feel this damned good, while George spoke low in your ear. He listed off all the things he liked best about you, and why. He planted clumsy kisses to your lips. He made you see stars brighter than all the far off constellations you were used to pointing out from the shoreline. You seemed to float among them, above everything. Time slowed down while your heart sped up, somehow, and while everything around you faded into an impossibly dull background, you still had George.

His weight was warm and secure. His breath was hot on your neck. His voice was saccharine in your ear. When he eventually eased next to your side in a heap, the cool of the night was still shielded by him.

You snuggled to his chest, like an old sleepy cat while he kept repeating how he loved you. You said so too, as many times as you could manage before drifting to sleep all tangled together.

The next morning came slow. You made coffee and watched the sunrise above the waves from the porch. When your friends started showing up in pairs and trios and more, they all seemed sort of relieved to find you and George attached at the hip. They greeted you as if you'd always been a packaged deal, and they didn't bat an eye when you stuck together to roam the vast empty beach. There was no fighting over choosing partners when someone broke out a new board game that night. When your friends were all gathered around the dinner table, and all the extra snacks and gifts and surprises for the summer were stored away, you still had George.

Maybe things wouldn't always be so easy. There would likely be fights and upsets and questions that didn't always have answers. But George was worth it. You had him now, you loved him and he couldn't stop reminding how dearly he loved you. Nothing had ever hurt so good before. You decided to keep it that way.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

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jebazzled · 5 years ago

Text

Why Aren’t People Writing With Me?

Why aren't people writing with me?

Real talk: do you often find yourself waiting weeks or even months between partners replying to your posts? Do people seem to prioritize all their other threads over yours? Do people seem to be just not that jazzed about writing with you? It's the worst feeling, when you're spinning your wheels and on the outskirts, wondering why you're struggling to gain traction. Sometimes, sites just be like that - people writing with their friends, or closed groups hard for a newer member to break into, or folks writing on slow timelines, or not keeping track of how long they've kept a partner waiting. It comes with the territory. But sometimes, it might be your writing that's holding your threads back. I know what you're thinking:

But it's something everyone can genuinely stand to consider, when they're having trouble getting a thread to keep moving: how much of this is my thread partner holding me up, and how much of it is me? Is there anything I can do to keep things moving? No matter how long you've been writing or how advanced a writer you are, it can be easy to forget that writing is ultimately a game of improv, and writing well is only part of the job. Part of the job is setting your partner up for a good time, too.

This tutorial is about writing starters & replies that make your thread partner excited to write back.

We'll be covering:

Starters that stall vs. starters that enthrall (sorry! the rhyme was necessary.)

Common tactics for writing replies - and common pitfalls of them

Alternate approaches to writing replies

Hopefully, these tips and tricks will improve your rp experience - because aren't we all here for a good time?

Onward!

STARTERS

Ah, starters. The bane of every roleplayer's existence. Starters are difficult because they often require some scene-setting, leaving the writer to try to set up a premise and a vibe without powerplaying for their partner. And then, you've got to start the interaction. There's a lot to contend with, so a lot of people avoid starters at all costs.

Personally, I like starting a thread: this way, I'm not waiting on a post; I have control over when it goes up. Thread partners often appreciate you writing a starter for them, so it's an easy way to engender good will. And finally, for me, it lets me make sure the thread is off to a good, actionable start.

Starters come with pressure - the starter sets the tone for the thread. A dud starter will stump your partner on replying, and they may even grow to dread posting. Which isn't fun for either of you!

Some things to consider when crafting a starter that will get your partner excited:

PREMISE Whether you're writing an open thread or a plotted thread for a specific partner, every starter needs a premise. The premise might be simple: perhaps your character is going to pickpocket your partner's. Maybe it's two friends catching up. It could be two strangers bumping into each other in an alley. It might also be more complex: maybe you're setting up an enemies-friends-lovers-enemies-rivals-lovers-friends-enemies plot. Maybe your character is defending the teaching of evolution to schoolchildren before a jury of his peers. Maybe it's a duel.

Generally, the more specific the premise, the better. This doesn't mean you need every beat of the thread plotted out, but it is good to think about: What do we want each character to get out of the thread?

Think of this as your overall goal for the thread. Is one character seeking reassurance or advice? Is there a business transaction being made? Have you and your partner agreed to hurt one character in a duel? If you can't think of an overall goal or point for the thread, the chances of stalling are high. This is common with "catch up" threads, especially ones in which neither character has particularly exciting updates to share. If only one character is "getting something" out of the thread, be careful in your own posts to set up plenty for your partner to respond to. Not every thread will have equal actionable payoff for both characters, which isn't inherently a bad thing. But if your posts don't give your partner much to engage with, the thread can read as selfish or one-sided - which isn't anyone's intention!

How do we want the events of this thread to impact this character, moving forward?

Related to the above, if both characters can walk away from this thread without any change - perhaps reconsider the premise or necessity of your thread. There is no shame in not doing a thread when it wouldn't mean anything to character development or plot progression for either character! "Just because" threads are always the first that drop on thread priorities - why not save yourself the trouble, and plot something you will both be excited about?

What is the most reasonable entrypoint for this thread?

Reality is filled with filler - moments in which nothing interesting happens, but which carry us from point A to point B. Conversation that goes nowhere and just happens for the sake of filling silence. But this isn't reality, this is fiction, which means we can cut the boring stuff and jump straight into the meat. If your premise is Character A pickpocketing Character B, don't open with Character A just wandering around the market, waiting for Character B to wander around the market, so Character A can pickpocket them: close your starter with Character A's hand around Character B's wallet. This gives your thread partner something to respond to (the theft) and in two fewer posts than it would have taken otherwise.

ACTION Dialogue is an engine for plot progression and for character development, and there is nothing quite as satisfying as strong dialogue. But questions, greetings, and other standard ways to launch an in-character conversation aren't your only options.

All a starter needs is action, and saying "hello," "what are you doing," or "hey! That's my pod racer!" are all actions. But actions can be silent, too, so long as they trigger a reaction from your writing partner. Character A pulling their hand out of the butt pocket on Character B's jeans, wallet in hand, begs Character B to react. Character C puking into the same trash can where Character D is searching for the utility bill they need for proof of address gives Character D something to dodge. Character E speedwalking through the grocery store and destroying the greeting card aisle gives Character F something to be horrified at. Even if A, C, and E all do it without saying a word. One thing you'll notice about each of the above premises is that they involve doing something - pickpocketing, puking/dumpster diving, grocery shopping. If you suspect your starters are leaving people underwhelmed, consider building your premise around action. The action doesn't need to be dramatic like the above examples. For instance, let's say that Character G is catching up with Character H after her divorce. They can do this over coffee in Character G's living room - but if they're walking their dogs while Character G's kids are with her ex-husband, you and your partner can use the dogs as emotional stand-ins:

Hannah dug her heels into the ground as Penelope started after a squirrel. Beside her, Gloria and Fifi both seemed not to see it. Hannah had never seen Gloria so out of it, so disconnected from the world around her. It frightened her. "How's Fifi holding up?" she asked, quietly, once Penelope calmed down and they kept walking. "I know Mike wasn't great to her, but - she probably misses the routine?"

Giving the characters some sort of verb to do beyond talking gives you more lenses through which to view an interaction, plus more opportunity for body language for your partner to respond to.

STARTERS: TL;DR Now that we've talked about how to start a thread on the right foot, let's quickly review our main food for thought items. Mind Snacks, if you will:

What do we want to get out of this thread?

Start on track for that result - do not lead with a detour!

Build around action - even small ones

Is the concept of this thread important or interesting? Would we be better served skipping it and writing something else?

REPLIES

Now your thread is off the ground. Excellent! It's a few posts in but your partner doesn't seem very excited - maybe they don't message you about how much they liked your reply, or how fun the thread is so far, or maybe they don't react to the tag in the server; maybe it's radio silence from them until they reply a month and a half later, when they're caught up on the threads they seem to keep shuffling ahead of yours. How do we move your thread up in the shuffle? Make it fun to reply to, and easy to reply to.

COMMON APPROACHES An easy way to tackle a reply is by having your character react to each action and dialogue from your partner's character:

Maycey slid into the navigator's seat of the L2-47 spaceship, almost kicking over a cup of Dark Matter Decaf.

"Sorry," she said, not looking at Brooks. "Are we still checking out Planet 42601, or did General Berry have us change course?" Brooks watched Maycey enter the cockpit, snorting as she almost knocked over his coffee. Though it wouldn't be funny to see what the brew would do to the controls of the L2-47. "No problem," he said. "General Berry wants us to do a pass over 42601, but we aren't doing a full landing."

This reply covers everything Maycey did in her post, but doesn't advance the thread. What comes next? Brooks hasn't given Maycey much information to process, nothing to act on, no juicy body language to consider. Maycey's writer is fully on their own to advance the thread. To move it forward in a meaningful way, they might come up with a plot development they need to run by Brooks's writer to make sure it's not stepping on anything Brooks had planned. They may need to make up some lore. They may need to expand the premise of the thread. Brooks may or may not have helpful input, but when push comes to shove, Maycey is the one who is going to put it in their reply.

Maycey whipped her gaze to her captain, shocked. "But sir - we've come all this way to rescue 42601. Berry - sorry, General Berry wants us to abandon them? Their distress signal took three days to reach us; the atomospheric poisoning has got to be lethal by now." Her hands didn't touch the controls - she couldn't bear to take them off course to the desperate planet. "Sir, we have to do what's right." Brooks took a sip of his coffee, thinking about his own family back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K. They'd put out a distress signal years ago, back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

All of that work from Maycey, and Brooks only gave us one sentence to propel the plot. Yes, he had a lengthy internal monologue debating it - but that interiority means nothing to Maycey, who isn't a mind-reader. In this scenario, the focus on Brooks's tragic backstory, without giving Maycey anything actionable, sets up a very one-sided dynamic. If this happens consistently over one or many threads, the tragic backstory no longer feels tragic in a meaningful way, but just feels like a trite device to be trotted out - to tell rather than show a reader that a character has depth.

How could this post give Maycey more to work off of? Below is the same reply from Brooks, with additions made in green, rearranged wording in blue.

Brooks could feel Maycey's stare - bewildered and accusatory. He can hardly blame her, but she should know by now that this is how the Galaxy stays out of the Great Bezosian Black Hole. Sheer obedience. He avoided her eye contact, took a sip of coffee. Sheer obedience. Just like years ago - back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, his own family's distress signal back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder - his hands are shaking; it misses the rim twice, sloshes onto the knee of his parasuit. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

This version acknowledges the primary beat of Maycey's post (something we will talk about later) - that is, her accusation - and adds body language betraying his doubts. While interiority is great, externalization makes it possible for other characters to engage with your character's thoughts and motives. Brooks's new post gives Maycey more to engage with, which will better set her up to give Brooks more to engage with, and so on. When you both do the lifting, you both have a better time.

Another common method - especially in conversational threads, especially in "catching up" premises - is to lean on dialogue and, more specifically, questions. But most conversations we have in life aren't nonstop questions!

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" Sasha grinned at her friend. She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day.

This series of posts involves a number of questions both stated in dialogue:

Is Sasha married?

Does Sasha like Edgar?

Does Annabelle like Edgar?

Will Annabelle be Sasha's maid of honor?

And unstated:

Why is Annabelle nervous?

Why does Annabelle care whether or not Sasha likes Edgar?

The stated questions are yes/no questions, somewhat procedural. The unstated question and its implication - that Annabelle cares about whether or not Sasha likes Edgar because she might like Sasha - is a juicier question than the minutiae of wedding planning. But Sasha's writer isn't letting Sasha notice or react to any of Annabelle's body language (her nervousness, her fiddling with the tablecloth) and focuses instead on the simple questions, which are a cover for what isn't being said. Information does not need to be voiced for it to be acted upon. Let's look at the same line of posts, with additions in green for Sasha and in pink for Annabelle.

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha had wondered when Annabelle would ask. She seems on-edge, fiddling with the tablecloth, as though they've never had a picnic outside before. She's not sure why Annabelle is out of sorts, but it's making her feel out of sorts. Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" She gently grasped Annabelle's fingers, unclenching them from the hem of the tablecloth. "Edgar thinks you're the bee's knees." Sasha's hand on hers - her stomach did a flip, palms instantly feeling clammy, like she could swoon in the summer sun. Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. It's worse that Edgar likes her. Makes her feel vile for resenting him like she does. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" It's a silly question - of course she loves him; how could she have said yes otherwise? But Annabelle seems not to believe her. Annabelle seems to worry. Annabelle is worried so much of the time - and so much for her - she tries to be reassuring, gripping her friend by the shoulders, offering a grin. "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day. Annabelle is her best friend - the only person she could stand at the altar with besides Edgar.

See how much more complex the dynamic is between these two when they have things to react to other than dialogue?

REPLIES PART 1: TL;DR So now we've addressed two common approaches to replies and seen how they can fall short, and discussed tips for elevating them. Your main takeaways:

Acting is reacting - react to your partner's dialogue AND body language, and give them some to work from, too!

Dialogue is not a game of Questions Only

If you're not driving the thread forward, you're slacking - don't leave it to your partner every time!

SYNTHESIZING: YOUR NEW APPROACH TO WRITING REPLIES

Now that we've discussed the pitfalls of action-by-action responses and dialogue-only threading, let's synthesize all of the above into one methodology for writing replies. The common pitfall of action-by-action responses is that one writer ends up only ever progressing the thread one sentence at a time - thinking of a post in terms of beats helps separate what actually needs substantive response, versus what is background information to inform your response. When I write a reply, I copy and paste my partner's post into the wordcounter window where I write my posts. I read their post and identify the beats - that is, what actually happens. For example:

Getting elected student body president was no joke. Hattie had worked for eleven long years to earn the position - bossed around her peers all the way from preschool. Back then, she'd been interested in power and prestige. But by the time she'd won the election junior year, she was exhausted. Now, on her first day of senior year, she was just excited about the choice parking spot. And yet, someone had the audacity - the nerve - to cut her off on the turn into the Keppler Family Parking Pavilion and slide right into her coveted parking spot. Crooked, so they took up the access lane to the adjoining handicapped spot. Too far forward, enough that she could see the metal RESERVED FOR STUDENT BODY PRESIDENT sign shaking on top of its pole. She threw herself out of her car, aiming the sole of her left Doc Marten into the license plate of the offender's Buick. "Hey, genius, there's no fucking run-off election this year!"

Because this is a starter, much of this is scene setting, which my partner could choose to echo, but the main things for them to react to are what my character - Hattie - offers in the moment:

dramatically throwing herself out of the car

kicking their license plate

swearing at them

Once I've distilled a post to the beats I need to respond to, I work my way through them, creating beats for my partner to respond to. With this method, a reply to the above might look like this:

Aunt Mildred's car was affectionately called The Boat for the first ten years of its life. Huge and unsinkable. That had changed when Aunt Mildred died in a boating accident over the summer, leaving Mikey the Boat's captain. Now, he just called it the Buick. And he wasn't very good at driving it - already he'd been honked at twice, overshot the turn into the parking lot, tires riding up on the curb. He pulled into the first available space. Figured he was outside the lines - but it seemed like the Buick was too wide to fit between lines anyway. And Aunt Mildred had never been one to follow rules. The terrible park job was in her memory. The sound of metal crunching at the back of the car, however, was not. If it's an accident, the Boat - the Buick - always wins, so Mikey gathered his violin case and drawstring backpack from the passenger seat, opened the driver's side door, and slowly got out of the car, turning his beanie backwards as if it mattered while he shuffled in his Adidas slides to the trunk, where a very short, very angry girl driving a Smart Car was trying to put the Boat - the Buick - in its place. "The car's not moving," he said, pulling a roll of Bubble Tape out of his backpack and taking a huge bite out of it. "But thanks for telling me my voting rights."

Mikey responds to Hattie's abuse of his car, but also gives Hattie a lot to respond to - minor dialogue, but a LOT of personal eccentricities that are bound to piss her off.

The dialogue and the action contribute to the trajectory of the thread - and giving Hattie something to play with keeps the musing about Aunt Mildred from feeling self-indulgent.

It's a small shift, going from thinking of posts as paragraphs to respond to to thinking of them as specific, small, actionable moments - but it makes a difference, especially in encouraging writers to be more thoughtful about creating opportunities for their partner to react.

REPLIES PART 2: TL;DR

beats, babey! not every sentence requires a response, but be sure to write some that do, whether it be dialogue or action.

ACTING IS REACTING!!!!!! if you don't give your partner something to react to, you are letting them down!

And that's all there is to it! Hopefully these examples are helpful as you think about ways to drive your plots and threads, and how to keep your own writing great for collaboration. The most important thing is to think of your writing partner. What do they need to be able to write back? What will make this thread exciting for them? How can you make sure this thread isn't serving you alone? Cheers, and happy writing!

#christ this was annoying to format #rp guides #resources #writing resources #rp writing #posts #starters #replies

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hazbinextgeneration · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Casino Ch16

(WARNING: Fight scenes including hair pulling and a death is contained within this chapter as well as past abuse mentioned. If this makes you uncomfortable please don't read. You have been warned.) What happened on the way home was..Well...Interesting to say the least. The strange warm feeling in his chest still hadn't gone away even after they were leaving. The gal feeling exhausted enough to fall asleep against his shoulder and ONLY because he was a gentleman, he wrapped an arm around her and allowed her to lean against him on the way home. Cyber was a little confused on his silence and the face he made as he glanced out the window on the way back, but she chalked it up to him calculating about the new possible deals he could make or perhaps maybe he was thinking about how to con someone over again. He had that hard thinking face over him and it was best to let him think at times. So she didn't argue when the limo finally stopped in front of their home, and he lightly shook the sleeping beauty awake. Her purple eyes blinking and she yawned tiredly, and he told Cyber to go take her back and make sure she got some rest. Thankfully Leaving Minight in charge with Disease following her orders was a grand idea. No harm was done to the place while they were gone. ....Sleep didn't come easy to him that night surprisingly but he managed. The next day was like it didn't even happen. In fact it was very normal. He got up, gave the usually orders to everyone who would get their assignments from him and told her the small list of personal things he needed her to be done that day. Which included cleaning out his office, but he made sure that all the valuable souls were very well secured and locked away where only he or Cyber could retrieve them. She smiled brightly and agreed as usually before trotting on her merry way...but this time that small warm feeling returned...he shrugged it off and continued onto the floor with Cyber. Business as usually.

Except the day after that the small feeling happened again. And again. And Again. And again. AND AGAIN!! Before he knew it nearly a month had passed with that strange small warm feeling in his chest was still there whenever he spoke to her, but he simply ignored it as he had better things to get done. Until one day he had a knock at the office door. He looked to the door for a moment before looking back down to the papers in his hands.

"Come in. Door's open." Well the door did open and in stepped the timid creature. He was a bit surprised she of all people would come in at this time of day, but he gave that famous smile none the less. "Aw, Pet.~ Hello, my dear. What can I do for you today? Is Disease bothering you again?"

She didn't answer straight away, but still gave a small smile. "N-No. I actually wanted to ask you something.''

"Ask away my dear! Im always happy to hear from you." Her question wasn't really something he would be expecting.

As she sheepishly rubbed her arm and looked everywhere but him. "A-Actually, I-I was wondering if you'd ever want to go dancing with me again s-sometime. I-It was really fun and I-" She looked back to him with a small smile. "I think..I want t-to get to know you better."

Well...that certainly was unexpected, but that just meant more progress! So he happily grinned politely as her sweet offer to him. "Darling. Of course! I would be delighted to spend time with you." His red eyes glanced to the grandfather on the otherside of the office before glancing back to her. "Tell you what. Why don't you join me for tea in an hour? We'll have plenty of time to talk then."

Her ears perked up with a bigger smile. "R-Really? S-Sure. I'd really like that."

He chuckled. "Very well then. In the meantime, do be a dear and fetch me another cup of coffee, will you? This business deal won't straighten itself out."

She happily agreed and he was eventually rewarded with a new steaming mug of coffee and he was happily looking through the papers he held within his hands as the clock clicked away on the wall across from them. Instead of leaving as soon as she gave him the mug, she stayed and looked curiously to the papers he held with innocent naivity. Oh it made him chuckle.

"What are you dealing with this time?" An innocent enough question.

"The owner of the winery next door has offered to sell it to me, but getting a hold of him is as easy as putting a fire out with gas." Which meant it wasn't easy at all. What could the fool possibly be doing that was so much more important than selling him the dam place if he offered in the first place?!

She made an 'oh' and blinked back to him. "Well I think it'd be a great addition to the casino."

"Is that right?"

She nodded. "Absolutely! With your business managing skills I bet you could connect the two easily. Maybe even open up a second larger bar inside it. Those are pretty popular as I've heard." Her brows furrowed in thought. "But maybe not make it so smoke ridden or blast that ridiculous excuse for music around, not a lot of people like those places. By the looks of all your friends at the party I'd say a few of them would pay a pretty penny to have one place around here that wasn't so....exotic like Rita's." She didn't even notice Lou had stopped midway through a sip and looked up at her. "With Midnight's potion making, you could probably even make your own brand and sell it too! Plus if you expanded the winery to double the size and enhanced the magical power of turning grapes into wine, I bet you'd get a lot more customers. A lot of people would like real authentic wine made from real grapes like on the surface instead of..how did Disease put it? 'Cheap gunk water'? And since you'd be able to grow your own grapes and own the brewery, you'd be able to make yourself some as well with no cost at all." She turned to him with a smile but paused seeing his face. "Oh..I-Im sorry. W-Was I talking too much?"

"..No. No actually. All those sounds like marvelous ideas!" He smiled before sipping that bitter tasting drink.

"Really?!"

He chuckled again. "But of course. But I am curious. Where did you learn all your business know how anyhow? I know you explained your father was a prominent business man, probably not as successful as yours truly, but by what you told me about him and your past, he didn't seem too keen on letting a lady such as you keep on the family business. No offense."

Her eyes glanced down for a moment. "He-...He often dragged me along to..c-certain business meetings if he knew someone had a son. I heard a lot at those places."

He glanced up at her for a moment. "....And I am to assume he only brought you along to use you as some kind of token in case he saw an opportunity to use you to get information from said sons? Or am I assuming something too large?"

"No. You're p-pretty spot on. He didn't see me for anything else."

"What of your mother?" If she was spilling information, he might as well get as much as he could get from her. Never know when it might come in handy.

She shrugged. "I don't know. My parents got divorced when I was a baby and she...s-she left me with him. N-Never met her."

"Oh, I see....Well I am sorry for your situation." He went back to his papers with another sip.

"Thank you..." She looked at him. "What was your family like?"

He paused...before blinking and looking back up to her. "My family?" She nodded and he went silent for a moment. ".....They were...terrible people let's say. A gambling man and his not so wonderful wife is what resulted in myself."

"Is that why you're so good at running a casino?"

He chuckled. Oh if only she really knew the many nights he was forced from a young age to stand watch as his father and his 'friends' gambled any and all money away, drinking away their sorrows. Of course he never did, instead he was much more interested in what the men did with the cards. And eventually he swiped a deck himself and began practicing when he was bored, which lead to him developing his own tricks. His own destiny carved out by himself. And the name he made back on the surface. He sometimes wondered if his name was still up there somewhere besides obviously on a tombstone. Were there any records of himself from his bloody gang wars? Probably not because then he was still nothing but a small fish in a big pond, but you could imagine his surprise when he woke up to him tumbling down and hitting the sidewalk hard when he first got here. Confused as all hell but quickly able to recover. He had to claw his way up the ranks and fought tooth and nail to get there, but it all paid off now didn't it. Hard work always paid off in the end in his experience. Sometimes he wondered what his poor parents faces would be if they could see him now? An overlord of hell and richer than they would ever dream! That's the difference between him and them. He was smart with his money and knew how to play the game.

"You could say so. But I like to believe it's more thanks to my natural ability to spot the obvious good things in life before they slip away.~"

"Oh. Well I'd say you have a wonderful ability!"

He chuckled more at her politeness. "Thank you. But now I believe I promised that tea."

Things were FINALLY starting to look more progressive with Midnight's assignment as over the next few days she was finally able to restore them to their (almost) original state and they looked a lot cleaner than when he first got them. He was pleased none the less, but she told him they'd need to test them which was a small problem. Obviously he couldn't let anyone know he had them for confidential reasons, so it'd be a bit tricky. But he would figure it out later. He was making great progress bout everywhere it seemed. The pretty pet wanted to spend more time with him and he was happily to oblige, sometimes for tea, other times for that promised dancing he promised. He was surprised to find out she knew the jitterbug and charleton, though it was quite obvious she was still rusty. He was happy to escort her through the small steps and be close to her-..Uh! I mean to get her to easily go with what he said of course. It had nothing to do with her giggles or the surprise squeaks she'd make when he surprised her, or the fact she basically enjoyed the same things he did. It was just because he enjoyed dancing and it was nice to have someone compliment his singing and dancing skills. But it certainly stroked his ego as Midnight would oh so lovely put it. She wasn't...bad to have around. Compliments and politeness aside, she was very down to earth and ..surprisingly passionate. Actually dimallishing Rita's bar when he asked her what could be better about it. He laughed and honestly wondered what Rita would think if she knew someone as weak as her thought her place was a 'smelly bin of smoke and sweat that needed a few windows and MORE than just a few scented candles'.

Well after that little laugh he knew just the position to promote her to. So when he called her up to come to his office, she was pretty surprised when he explained why.

She blinked. "Personal asisntant?"

He hummed and nodded. "That's right, Dear! I feel as if merely being a secretary was ..undermining your abilities. You'd still have your duties AS my secretary but with more duties added on. But I promise the extra work would be worth the effort."

"What exactly are they?"

"You'd be entrusted with taking care of my more personal property. For example you're now in charge of making sure my space her is always in order and things are where I can find them, you'd be in charge of making sure my meals are delivered, and of course as my right hand asistant you'd be accompying me on business if it calls for it. But if it sounds too much too soon for you, I'll gladly just not give the promotion."

And wouldn't you know it. Hook. Line. And sinker. He made it seemed like something much better than it was and of course she agreed right away it would be a fantastic idea. And the next day she got too it. If there was another thing he could say about her it was that it was she was a hard worker, and she worked her tail off to prove she earned that little spot. Or maybe it was because some part of her still felt scared or intimidated by him. Didn't matter for now. Progress was being made throughout. She would still flinch lightly when he wrapped an arm around her or patted her back, but it was MUCH better than before. Couldn't say the same thing about everyone else or big crowds. She still was timid around those and that was just fine with him. The less interaction beyond his little crew the better. He gets to spend more time with her and vise versa! Everyone wins. Especially him. Though there was still a matter of that small warm feeling that wasn't really that small anymore, and he had a sneaking feeling as to what it could've possibly been, but he still pushed the unimportant thing aside for now. Right now he had FINALLY gotten a hold of the man who wanted to sell him the place and it was certainly about time. He should have the documents on his next business run. Which would happen to be his little pet's first one with him to be exact. Not anywhere special, just the casino floor. Laughing, cheers, and music filled the air within the casino as demons of all kinds gambled their money away or drank themselves drunk. A usual day for the casino staff....Well, almost everyone. The clicking of hooves made their way down the hallway towards the more noisier side of the whole casino. The woman flipped through the many papers piled within her arms. She finally pulled one from the back, scanning her eyes over it before looking up at the person walking next to her smiling nervously. "T-The deed to the winery next door has successfully been obtained like you wanted." The taller male smiled down at her. "Excellent!" He snatched the document from her and smirked down at it. "With this we'll no longer have to rely on cheap black market booze. How much have we left in stock, Pet?" Her ears went back at the nickname, but answered, "I....don't know. I haven't looked yet." He hummed and gave her a look. "Go ask Rouge, that beer bug ought to give you the answer, then get back to me."

Her eyes blinked confused up at him and she rose a brow. "Rouge?"

A sudden realization came over him and he sighed. "Oh, yes! You two haven't properly been introduced yet! Silly me!" From where they were standing he pointed a hand across the giant room where she could barely make out the bar. "Rouge is one of my floor managers but she mostly just handles the many bars and kitchen areas I have around here. You can't miss her really. She really bugs you persay." He chuckled..but sighed again at her still confused face. "She's a bug demon. Green hair, wings- You can't miss her."

"Oh. I see."

"Yes, now be a dear and ask her how much stock we have so I can calculate how soon we can easily use my newly obtained purchase.~" A red claw was extended to pull back a stray gold hair from her face. She visibly flinched at the touch and stopped an her purple eyes darted at him. He only chuckled and leaned forward a little. "You can do that. Can't you, Pet?~" She gulped and managed to not stutter despite the heat in her face. "Of course I can." His hand patter her cheek before retracting back and chuckling. "I thought so.~ Now-" He began walking again with her quickly following behind. "-I must go speak with a very important client. No go find Rouge. She'll give you what you need." "Yes, Sir." He often used nicknames with her and very flirty gestures, but after working for him for a couple months she got used to it....Kinda. He seemed to get a chuckle out of seeing her squirm and those god forbidden squeak sounds she made. Though putting up with his antics was better than fighting for survival on the streets. Even if it meant her hand. They came to the end of the hallway where the loud sounds of music and voices were. Without so much but a side smile at her, he turned to the left and quickly disappeared among the crowd of other demons. She watched after him for a moment, but soon went the opposite way. It wasn't comfortable being around so many possibly dangerous demons, but most were too busy with their games to pay attention to her. The ones that DID she knew stared at her body(or more specifically her exposed leg or horn). She made the mistake of looking into the face of one of her 'admirers' as she walked past. The grimy man visibly smirked at her and licked his fangs.....which made her cringe, duck her head, and pick up her pace. The bar couldn't be far now, right? ....Right! The bar wasn't as crowded as he thought it'd be, but it was still pretty packed. In the middle of it all was the flutter of green wings as the insect demon passed out drinks fast with ease. Years of experience right there. And she blinked. That must've been the Rouge Lou was telling her about. She didn't notice her at first, but (when she got close enough) Rouge smiled in her direction and placed her hands on the counter as she sat down. "Hey there, Fuzzy. You here for a drink?" She gestured to the wide shelves behind her. "We got lots of choices to choose from, so pick your poison." She smiled and took a seat. "N-No. Lou wanted to know how much alcohol was left in stock." Rouge rose a brow in confusion and she remembered that they hadn't been introduced yet. So not one for being rude, she stuck a hand out. "I-I-Im Amalfia. Your coworker? Im sure we hadn't met." She still looked confused before she gave a knowing smile and grabbing her hand. "Oh yeah! I recognize your name from Disease telling me all about you and the big guy spending some time together." She smiled before looking down at the paperwork she held then back to her. "Someone's been busy." She brought her arms up to rest them and the papers on the bar and gave a smile. "It's not that bad. It's certainly better than doing laundry o-or sweeping the floors, b-but Im just here because he wants to know how much stock you all have left." She snorted. "With all the chores he makes ya do, I'm surprised he doesn't dress you up in a mad outfit." Instead of getting the suggestive joke, the unicorn cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Why would he have me do that? I'm pretty sure he already has cleaning staff." "...Never mind." She waved a hand dismissively before leaning off the counter. "You said you wanted to know the booze level. Alright. It'll take me a couple minutes though." "I can wait." "Alright. HEY!" Her head snapped to the right as she shouted. Another demon glared at her from the other side of the bar. "Cover me for a bit. I need something from the back." Rouge left without another word, disappearing through a door between the two shelves of alcohol as the other bartender kept serving the demons that came. Leaving her surrounding by patrons grumbling for their drinks or passed out drunk on the bar. It was fine though. She was usually left alone if she just kept her eyes down and didn't engage with anyone. This wasn't the case though. As she busied herself by flipping through the small stack of papers in her hands, she barely noticed someone sit n the stool next to her, which really wasn't a big deal. It was a free bar after all. What she did notice however was the sudden ever so light feeling of someone touching her leg- "DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Her body reacted far faster than her mouth did. Whipping around towards the danger, her body on high alert from the unwanted invasion of her personal space. Sitting there was the very same demon she'd made the mistake of seeing. Her shout had seemed to catch the attention of some others around her though. The demon smiled and stared down at her like she was a prime steak. Unintentionally, she swallowed and leaned away. She probably looked more scared than she would've liked. "I-I....I don't like strangers touching m-me. Please g-go away." At this, he chuckled and leaned down eye level. "I remember you-" Her eyes visibly widened at this, and her nose wrinkled up. His breath smelt like an unwashed dumpster. He pointed a finger before saying, "Don't you remember me?..It took me a while to figure out where you were after running into me at that d*mmed club. But seeing you on the arm of that rich boy, it didn't take too long after that." She sat there frozen. "I-I...I'm really s-s-sorry, Sir, if you think that. B-But Im sorry."

He leaned his head back in laughter before hissing and leaning closer to her. "You REALLY don't recognize me, do you? I would've thought an empty headed gal like you would've made it somewhere more innocent for that pretty little head of yours. Guess not. Suits me just fine. Wouldn't you say?...Dorothy?"

She absolutely froze. Ice was traveling through her veins and his smile got wider at her absolutely terrified face. "...no." Was all she was able to force out of her terrified form at the rush of her realization and old name hit her harder than a freight train- A sudden shriek cut from her throat as something had grabbed a large fistful of her poor blonde and white hair and pulled her head back. Her hand immediately flew up to the giant hand and began to claw at it to no avail. He somehow got closer to her face. "Y'know...It's been a long time since I last saw you. Thought you still seen the last of me huh?" Her body coursed with pain as her brain screamed for his unwanted touch to go away. To not let it happen again. "Let go of me! Put me down!" Her body thrashed against the iron grip of her captor which made him raise his hand higher, dragging her from her seat. She screamed and started kicking her legs out. The commotion caught the attention of a whole lot of others, but most seemed more entertained by the fight than concerned for her. By this point she thought her head would pop off with how much it hurt. Her kicking had already sent her papers all over the ground below them. "I wonder how much a second owned horse would go for-" Another hand pressed her cheek. "A pure little thing like you would be worth a lo-AAAAHHH!!" The squirming flesh in her mouth tasted horrible, but something told her to keep her teeth clamped down. The demon cursed and pulled against her. Pushing her head back further.

"What THE F*CK are you doing?!" The female voice and the demanding tone behind it was enough to make the male demon stop and look down. By some miracle, Rouge had returned, probably hearing their screams, and was glaring at him with enough bite to put a cobra to shame. Her eyes flashed to her crying, squirming body held up by him for one split second. "....Okay, you burnt cherry lookin' mothaf*cker. You have one second to put Fuzzy down before I shove a bottle up your a$$." "Mind your own f*cking business!" Her jaw's grip had loosened in the few seconds after Rouge's return, so it was easy to finally slip his hand free to point at the much smaller demon and start yelling at her. Which gave her only a few moments to react. It was obvious this guy was physically stronger and wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon. She sure as h*ll wasn't going back to being his to boss around. Not after so many years of FINALLY getting away. Not having to look over her shoulder, finally enjoying herself for once in her entire existance. She wouldn't go back to that enclosed prison again. So, in her panicked state, there was one very obvious solution- "LOU!!," she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Drowning out any other sound from her brain, "LOU, HELP!!" The tears dulled her vision somewhat so the next moments were a bit blurry, but no one could miss the obvious chair that came flying out of nowhere and collided with him full force. Sending them both to the floor. The sudden release from her hair was a relief compared to the smack to the floor....but it was better than being held in mid air. Her head tingled with dulled pain still, but there was no time to linger on that when a demonic cry and gagging sounds came next to her. Once again her body reacted before her conscious brain did and she sat up and away....and her eyes widened. The demon was the one making the gagging noises and flailing about like a fish out of water. The clawing at his neck directed her to the green rope like appendage firmly wrapped around it. Small red spikes dotted along it's sides. Before another shot out of no where above her making her whimper and duck as another red spiked green rope wrapped around the struggling demon's hand, and another grabbing his other hand. His red snout which didn't look good from the chair colliding with him, was held firmly shut as the green things wrapped him more than a mummy until he could barely move and was dropped to the floor in front of her. Another screech got her attention as well as some others. Her purple eyes widened at who was screeching. "Lou?" The plant demon was transfixed on the still choking demon. A fixture of rage and something she couldn't quite place on his face. He seemed to also be struggling as Cyber was death gripping his waist to hold back the snarling beast. "Lou, STOP! That's enough!" He didn't stop. "LOU!!" He froze. Everything seemed to freeze for those few agonizing moments...before his body slowly began to relax back and he blinked. "......Lou?" His head snapped to the unicorn looking up at him from the ground with a confused gaze....then around at all the patrons still watching- He quickly straightened up, reaching to fix his bowtie and hat, as if it never happened, before snapping his fingers. The vine around the guy's neck loosened and slunk away leaving him hacking and coughing. She let out a loud squeak as more vines wrapped around her suddenly and hoisted her up and over towards the two. There, she was firmly placed next to him and she gladly went behind the plant demon. He rose a brow at the fightened shaking lady as she death dripped his shirt and those purple eyes stared in absolute fear at the man gasping for breath on the floor before he hissed up at them.

"You little b*tch! Hiding behind that stupid fatcat like he's some shield for your petty little behind! You never could be stronger than me could you!? You were always too weak to do anything!!"

Now, he had made a gave mistake. He was willing to just beat him to a pulp and leave him on the streets, after all no one made a sceen in his casino without consequences and he was already in such a foul, but what had just come out of his mouth seemed to make a difference. A hiccup escaped from behind him and he slowly turned his raised brow to the woman now pressing her face to his back, not daring to look up. "Is he...?"

Her whimper was and what he had just said confirmed on just who this man was. Well, well. This day had just gotten interesting, now didn't it? What a stupid, stupid move for this poor soul to make. Lou slowly turned his gaze back to the struggling form of the cursing man in front of him. Oh he knew EXACTLY what to do with him.

"Cyber. Take this lowlife trash to Midnight, and keep him there until I come up." He turned back to the terrorfied female behind him before reaching an arm behind him and pulling her from behind him to his side. "You are coming with me." Cyber gave him an overly confused look with a," Uh. Sure, Boss." She watched silently as Lou led the horrified gal away from the cussing man and watching crowd and without so much as another word, she blankly looked down to the guy trapped in vines and rose a brow as he uselessly dug his grave by cussing her out. With ease she grabbed the vine cocooned man and threw him over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes as he cussed and screamed his way through the crowed. Leaving Rouge there extremely confused to the events that just played out. ".....Da f*ck just happened?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It took a while for him to calm her down from her very obvious panic attack which left her clinging and crying into him for the longest time as he shushed her and attempted to sooth her over like how Midnight would sooth Disease in one of his moments. Eventually she was able to get a hold of herself and just sat there in his grip hiccupping and wiping at her face for a while. When he thought she was able to be steady by herself he finally let go and she didn't make any protests when he did. Just try to pull herself together from the ordeal. Which left him to sigh and finally to go and sit in his chair for a while- He groaned and reached up to rub at his temples. The soft office chair hugged his slumped over body as he racked his brain. A small thump from the desk made him open his eyes and noticed the small white cup that was placed in front of him. The smell of coffee and weed killer filled the air, and on top of it all was the smiling face of the unicorn. "Thank you." He grabbed it before chugging it down half way. She gave him a bigger smile. "I thought you'd want that after the fight back there." He dryly chuckled. Oh, yes. The fight. He honestly didn't know what to think of it all. One moment he was casually talking up one of his more richer clients, alomost sealed the deal too, when the first screams rang out. At first, he didn't pay much attention to it, if there was a fight then the bouncers would take care of it. That's what they were paid for. What he DID pay attention to was the screaming of his name- "LOU!! LOU, HELP!!" You could say he snapped around faster than a bullet. Completely confused to who could've been shouting for him- Until he saw it. The struggling form of Amalfia struggling against a sickly cherry red demon with his hand gripping her hair. What happened next was something he couldn't quite explain. It was almost like someone flipped a switch and red clouded his vision. Though throwing a chair and making a scene in front of his customers was a blur, he would've never done that otherwise. Something his head couldn't wrap around he supposed. The only logical thing he could come to was that he became overly angry at having his pretty little weapon in danger of being taken from him and his power hungry instincts took over for a little bit. What else could it have been? "Yes. Well-" He sat back up bringing the cup with him. "I don't tolerate strangers placing their hands on the woman I intend on marrying. I would advise against going back there anytime soon." "But, my papers-" "I'll send Cyber to retrieve them." He gave the cup a look before glancing back at her. ".....This coffee tastes a bit old. Why don't you go make a new pot?" "Alright. I get the hint. But, Lou-" A Soft hand reached out to gently squeeze his free hand. "I mean it. Thank you." She slowly removed herself from by the desk and made her way over to the doorway. He sat there frozen for what seemed like forever before slowly clenching his free hand. What the h*ll was wrong with him today?! He gave a frustrated growl before reaching up to remove his hat and run those red digits through his blonde locks of his, whatever. He would feel like himself soon again anyways. But he had other business to attend to that he certainly was not going to overlook or leave as a threat to any of his plans.

***********************************************************************************

He had to wait for her to go to sleep which took a little longer than usually thanks to the mongeral's scare from earlier, but it's nothing some reassurance and warm drink couldn't help. He didn't know why but-...under that calm smile of his anger resurfaced and he gave off a frustrated growl as soon as he left the room and started making his way towards Midnight's lab, which was just a little ways from his dance room. And with his fast pace fueled by the anger in his veins it didn't take long for him to get there. But what first graced his ears was loud muffled mumbles coming from the inside of said lab and his anger started to turn in that direction. The door was pushed open maybe a little more forcefully than he'd like but that didn't matter to him in the moment and he just stood there in the doorway. Rasing a brow at what he was met with. The table Midnight used for....'things' was currently occupied by the struggling red skinned demon, the vines removed for favor of the clamps on the table, Cyber was standing right next to the table looking at him and shrugged. And a little ways from her was a grumpy as ever looking Midnight and a frowning snake flicking his tongue out at the guy...and he just now noticed the mongral had a black eye to match the rope around his mouth.

"..Did I miss something?"

"Eh...The guy got some colorful language and decided to use it on Midnight," she jabbed a thumb behind her at the grumpy looking which. "Disease wasn't too happy let's just say.''

He hummed as he walked into the room, hands behind his back and gave him a calm half lidded look without the smile. Rage burning behind those lidded red eyes of his. The guy glaring at him with absolute hatred behind that gag of his. "...Remove the gag."

Cyber did as she was told without question and with one pull the rope fell from the douchbag's snout. He coughed a few times before glaring up at him. "YOU F*CKING SON OF A B*TCH!! I'LL PLUCK YOUR PETALS AND SNAP YOUR F*CKING STEM YOU TWAT!!"

Lou's face didn't change and instead rolled his eyes. "Simpleton. You all always resort to petty curses and empty threats when you're about to meet your end. Midnight." The witch looked up from..whatever she was currently mixing together and with a sinister smile plastoring itself onto his face, he pointed to the strapped down man. "We found the new volunteer for your projects. Let's hope they prove useful research eh?"

The guy's eyes widened and snapped to the witch who all of a sudden didn't look so grumpy and was staring dead at him with...calculating eyes, before struggling against the table's restraints and glaring back him. "YOU F*CKING B*ST*RD!! LET ME OUT!!"

he hummed and tapped in his in mock thought. "Um...No. You see, you could've scared off one of my plan's assets and I simply cannot have that. So as punishment you get to help Midnight test out some of our other assets for this the small takeover I hope to achieve.~ Isn't that wonderful? Too bad you won't live to see it."

"WHY YOU FU-" The guy's snout was slammed shut by Cyber after Lou nodded to her. With incredible strength, she held his red jaws shut with one hand while looping the rope back around it with the other. Midnight already looked a little better, digging through one of the draws of her desk and pulling out a few potions and things she was eager to use. As for him?...He deserved a good night's sleep after today. He felt oddly satisfied and wanted to leave them to it. Turning on his heel he took a few steps before stopping in the doorway.

"Oh..By the way.'' He looked over his shoulder. Smile and red eyes glowing in the dark. "You missed out on having a remarkible lady by your side. I guess in a way I should really be thanking you. In a sense you pushed her to me and I couldn't be happier.~" Cyber rose a brow again at him happy tone. "But we both know I won't do any of that."

The doors closed behind him and muffled cries cursed him from behind.

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

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birlcholtz · 5 years ago

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Okay, I'll bite. How and why did you learn to code?

HI LIN thanks for biting this is a story that tells you quite a lot about me as a person

so some background: my parents are both in compsci. they're the late 80s, early 90s silicon valley crowd, they've both had their fair share of established companies and startup-hopping, and my brother and i grew up here

my brother is about 5 years older than me and took to coding like a fish to water (like a duck to water??) which is to say he started programming on scratch at the tender age of.... i don't even know, honestly, maybe 9? too young for me to really remember, and he's been a compsci prodigy ever since

but then. then there was me.

now i do love scratch. when i was little i always copied my brother (not in like a cute way, in a 'if he can do that i can do it too' mindset that meant my third grade teacher REALLY struggled to find book recommendations for me that i hadn't already read. since my brother was above his grade's reading level, and i would read whatever my brother read. yeah that's the kind of kid i was/am)

so naturally i did what he did. i programmed on scratch, i did advanced math courses, i was in CHESS CLUB (i am so bad at chess by the way. i am not good at it. let's establish that. i think i beat my dad once and i genuinely don't know if he let me win or not. i never beat my brother so in that respect i failed. but i'm better than my mom so there's that)

HOWEVER. around fourth or fifth grade i was like hey. maybe i want to like... forge my own identity. and not just turn my life into 'do whatever elder brother does BUT BETTER.'

and thus began my campaign to NEVER DO ANY CODING EVER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND WHILE I'M AT IT FUCK MATH

this gets long so there’s more under the cut sjflsghf

there are two problems with this. the first problem is my inherent pride and the fact that, despite my best efforts, i am actually decent at math and too proud to intentionally fuck it up. so i wound up in honors math. that made part 2 of my independence campaign a little difficult.

the second problem is that my parents were just as determined for me to learn to code as i was to avoid anything to do with coding for the rest of my life

(the third problem was actually a serious problem for this goal. and that was that in seventh grade, when i had a required compsci class where we learned basic, i found myself... enjoying it. HORROR OF HORRORS.)

so i was quite vocal about my anti-math stance and my determination to explore other avenues of life, to which my parents responded by listening with bat-ears whenever i talked about my compsci class and/or my love of spreadsheets so that they could jump on it and say 'YOU KNOW, COMPUTER PROGRAMMING IS JUST LIKE THAT, I THINK YOU WOULD REALLY ENJOY IT' whenever i said something remotely applicable

and to which i responded, of course, by plunging ever deeper into performing arts because fuck compsci, except when it's basic, because then i understand everything because of messing around w scratch when i was little and it's easy and i'm ahead of the rest of the class and can stare into space while the rest of them struggle with closing their parentheses (which is not to say i never messed up my parentheses. i totally did)

now, my brother, because he's a nerd, went to compsci summer camps where you'd spend a week or two learning some program or language. he did things like java and c++ and then would come home and use this knowledge for robotics club. like i said. nerd.

but my parents sensed a golden opportunity. namely, 'if we can get birl to go to these camps, she will actually learn programming things (not just being ahead of the class and spacing out in basic), and we'll probably get her to agree since it's only a week and she can do cost benefit analysis'

and, because i CAN do cost benefit analysis, i agreed to that deal. i'd go to a few of these camps, and then we'd agree that i was done with my parentally mandated computer science requirement. i learned some 3-d modeling, i learned to use unity (which involved some c+ as well), and i learned some java, and all was well. the camps were like 5 days long. we mostly worked on self-directed projects so i could do whatever the hell i wanted (and i made some pretty cool maze games if i do say so myself-- one of them in unity and one of them as a text-based game in java)

and.... horror of horrors....... i didn't hate it.

(of course i didn't want to go BACK any more than i had to but i also didn't hate every moment of those weeks)

so we were out of the woods right?

except no. we weren't.

because here's the thing. my high school ALSO had a computer science requirement. we had to take at least a semester. there were 3 levels offered: AP compsci, normal compsci, and then easy compsci (not its actual name) for the people who did not give a single shit

obviously i wanted to take the last one. my parents really wanted me to take AP but were willing to settle for normal. you will notice there was no overlap

i wrangled my way out of taking AP because that was a year-long course and i didn't have space in my schedule (my parents are wonderful in the sense that they didn't want to infringe on my actual interests to force me to do compsci which meant i had LEVERAGE)

but we literally wound up discussing it with the dean of students who was like 'well if you're capable of AP and just not taking it for schedule reasons then easy compsci would probably be boring for you!' which was an unhelpful take, thanks EVAN

but i did get my way by virtue of volunteering with a progressive tech organization in lieu of taking regular compsci, so i took easy compsci (in which i used scratch again, yay nostalgia, and also briefly flirted with html) and also wound up learning to use squarespace which is criminally easy but you can make it look like you're an expert

and all this while i was getting better and better with spreadsheets due to my own individual love for spreadsheets that near as i can tell, nobody in my family shares (my dad does have a lot of spreadsheets but his aren't as detailed as mine and he doesn't include data validation so HA)

all of which (plus my ap calc and stats classes) combines to mean that while i would not be able to just sit down and write you some code, if you give me access to stack overflow and tell me what language it's supposed to be in i can probably figure it out. especially now that i've become familiar with python by accident (well, more by my desire to write fic)

and because now i'm stuck in a rut, my current internship is with another civic tech company and that's probably what i'll wind up doing next summer as well. i don't actually work on software but i do comms which means i need to be able to have conversations with the engineers so i've been learning on the job. i know so much help

SO. with regards to my fic, my parents would both be thrilled because i taught myself some of a new programming language (python) and disappointed because i taught myself some of a new programming language with just stack overflow and some time and all i'm using it for is fic.

but near as i can tell we finished that battle long ago. it was a resounding victory for birl and i continue to expand my technical talents into areas like photo/video editing and CRM tools.

thank you very much *bows*

#birl talks #the-lincyclopedia

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huds-hub · 5 years ago

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; MUN & MUSE - MEME

FILL OUT & REPOST ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

Stolen from @mrfunnybone. Since this meme has a bias for canon muses, I’m tagging two of my favorite canon writers that I know didn’t fill this out yet: @soulcoerced and @spearslinger (I wonder if a fellow Undyne RPer has a different take on some of these questions? ^^;;). For everyone else, feel free to steal it and tag me if you do! I’m curious to see how OC muns answer some of these questions...

MY MUSE IS: CANON / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated [[ The adult version of my muse is canon, but her teenage equivalent is not present anywhere in Undertale / Deltarune. So, uh… canon but kind of complicated I guess??? I like describing my muse as canon-wise. My Deltarune fishies are undoubtedly AUs at most, canon-divergent at least. ]]

[[ Mun’s note: I’m going to cheat on this. For the next 8 questions, I’ll answer for both Undyne as my teen muse AND regular adult canon Undertale Undyne. My thoughts on her counts as something, right? My muse is based on canon! ]]

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK [[ Undyne’s character to the rest of the fandom is unpopular (compared to Sans, Chara, Gaster, etc…). It’s a shame, because her dialogue portraits alone would make great meme fodder. HOWEVER, among Undyne fans, I notice there’s an interest in depicting her early years because she’s one of the few cast members who’s had their childhood explicitly mentioned. ]]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK [[ She’d better not be, because my muse is a C H I L D. As far as I’ve seen, canon adult Undyne is depicted more often as a ‘badass’ than a ‘sexy fish.’ ]]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK [[ Younger Undyne is definitely interpreted to be a determined, tough kid. Of course it’s the same for adult canon Undyne. It’s basically her most distinct character trait. ]]

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK [[ Lordy, Undyne as a whole is entirely underrated by the fandom... ]]

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO [[ OMG... you’re gonna get me started. I’m marking ‘no’ on this question because this is supposed to be about my aged-down muse. But Undyne... sweet violent Undyne’s very important to Undertale’s story! *fangirling START* Besides being the mid-point antagonist in the game, Undyne adds a layer of the theme of DETERMINATION to the game and how it can manifest in monsters if their bodies are strong enough to handle it. In an allegorical sense, she represents extremism in reaction to oppression and how that passion can take on the form of extreme love or extreme hatred depending on circumstance. So HELL YEAH she’s important to the main story of the game! AAAHILoveThisFish!! *fangirling END* ]]

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [[ Same as the previous answer for my teen Undyne: begrudgingly marking this with a ‘no’... It’s a YES for canon Undyne. In all routes, original game’s Undyne is the first character who is purposefully trying to kill the Player. Players can’t get the best ending without helping her hook up with Alphys and not incurring her wrath by killing any monster. In the worst ending, she’s one of the two antagonists that put up enough of a fight to make any player abort the Genocide Route. ]]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO [[ My muse WANTS to be significant to her world. In the original game, Undyne’s only mentioned by others in Snowdin and Waterfall (not counting Alphys in Hotland). She’s described as a “local hero” by Gerson. I get a sense she’s not exactly famous to the people in the entire Underground compared to, say, Mettaton. ]]

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL [[ Oof. Pretty sure my teen fish annoys the residence of Waterfall for being a loud-mouthed little scamp. The only reason she’s not considered ‘bad’ is because it’s pent-up energy and misguidedness, not flat-out cruelty. In canon, it seems like the people who talk about Undyne do it in either a positive or neutral light. You have Monster Kid, Papyrus, and Onionsan singing her praises. The Royal Guard members respect her. Asgore thought of her well enough to have her lead his military. Uhh, for a neutral instance, I remember an NPC in Snowdin saying she’s “loud, rude, and beats up anybody who gets in her way” (I don’t remember the exact quote). To weigh this more on the side of my muse, I’ll mark this answer as ‘neutral.’ ]]

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON? [[ Since I have an aged-down character, canon is literally my END GOAL! I gave her a “starting point” on her journey to the determined, dedicated, and excitable warrior fish we all know and love from the game. I filled in the gaps from there, using parts of her past mentioned in the game to glue the headcanons together. Deciding what she was like when she was younger – What’s her family background? What aspects about her changed as she matures? What internal and external conflicts would she deal with as a teen? – THAT’S the non-canon part. My Deltarune AUs are… different. Canon is my end goal too, but the timelines are all wonky to fit the needs of wanting to interact with the Fun Gang. LOL ]]

SELL YOUR MUSE! AKA TRY TO LIST EVERYTHING, WHICH MAKES YOUR MUSE INTERESTING IN YOUR OPINION TO MAKE THEM SPICY FOR YOUR MUTUALS. [[ This kid is spunky, loyal, compassionate of the plight of her people, and will see through anything she sets her mind to, despite life’s barriers. She’s got a lot of pent-up energy and is searching for what she can do with it to help her achieve her goal of setting Monsterkind free! ]]

NOW THE OPPOSITE, LIST EVERYTHING WHY YOUR MUSE COULD NOT BE SO INTERESTING (EVEN IF YOU MAY NOT AGREE, WHAT DOES THE FANDOM PERHAPS THINK?). [[ The teen fishy has a streak of selfishness and short-sightedness. Being honest, Undyne would be a racial supremacist if she existed in real life. Big yikes. Also, she’s willingly being trained as a child soldier. Another big yikes right there. ]]

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE? [[ Ages ago, I RPed the adult version of Undyne, which resulted in a bunch of headcanons for her past. I had no desire to RP any of them after it ended. A year later, I commissioned an artist for a Gerson vs. teen Undyne piece. That single-handedly made me want to get back into RPing again. ]]

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING? [[ My fellow RPers wanting to interact with this silly fishy! When I first started, I expected my interest to peter out over the months. I didn’t expect many RPers wanting to interact with an aged-down character. But here I am, wanting to expand my headcanons further and making AUs so I’m not limited to canon. ^^ It’s all thanks to you guys!! ]]

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO?

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? [[ I should do it more often TBH. But I find showing them via story-telling more fulfilling than just explicitly explaining them in posts. Plus, it gives me more leeway if I’m still playing around with an idea. ;) ]]

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO [[ I’m not counting the three pending drabbles until I finish them. ^^;; ]]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [[ She finds a way to bother me! Usually in the form of sudden inspiration for how to respond to RPs. ]]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [[ Sometimes I wonder if I forgot some aspect about Undyne that’s in canon, or unintentionally exaggerating other less-important aspects of her other characteristics… ]]

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO / SORT OF? [[ Generally, yes. But I do have my days when I suffer from low self-confidence. ]]

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / SORT OF? [[ It depends on what’s meant by that. I’m sensitive to other people’s feelings, so I don’t intend to sound rude OOC, even if I’m expressing something negative about something I think the other did. If this is referring to being sensitive about events in RPs… my sensitivity is equivalent to that of being invested in any work of fiction. I know it’s not reality. I can pull away from the fictional world and it won’t bring down my real life. ]]

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL? [[ If it’s given in good faith and is constructive, sure. ]]

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER? [[ Hell yeah, give them to me! ]]

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? [[ It depends if they want to tell me. I don’t mind either way. Personally, I like hearing other people’s interpretations! ]]

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT? [[ *shrug* It doesn’t matter as long as they don’t harass me. ]]

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT? [[ I’d just ignore it. They don’t need to interact or follow me. If my muse really is a bother to them, they can block my account. ]]

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS? [[ I hope my grammar’s good enough, or else my English degree studies went to waste! But yeah, sure. Fun fact: explaining grammar rules so people can avoid major errors in the future is more helpful than nit-picking insignificant errors without explanations. ]]

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN? [[ As long as fellow RPers aren’t being rude OOC, don’t break any serious rules, or do something that I mention are personal triggers to me, I am easy-going! RPing is fun and it should stay that way for everybody involved! ]]

#mun monday #ooc #long post #yikes that took me a week to finish writing #but it was fun #this post was such a pain to format

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totaldramafan-lauri · 5 years ago

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I know I haven’t updated in a few days......but I actually HAVE been playing a lot! It’s just that, well......I wasn’t emotionally in a good place, and didn’t feel up to making a post. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, and I’m healing.

But anyway, yeah, quite a bit has happened, and since it took place over multiple days, there are a few points to hit here, so.....cue the Read More

Deli and Bianca

My fourth and fifth villagers moved in, one after the other! As expected, they didn’t make as big of an impression as the adorable Margie did, but I do like them, and I already know what they’re like....well, kinda! Bianca is very cheery and full of energy! Also I love her color scheme, it kinda makes me think of a snow leopard or something like that. Deli goes to sleep early so I haven’t seen as much of him yet, but he talk about snacks a lot.

Apparently I have a good house

The HHA ranked my tiny little house an S!? This was.....kinda a shock. XD I don’t know if that’s really THAT impressive.....but, going by Splatoon logic, S is the highest rank, and I’m not sure if that’s true here as well....Nevertheless, I got a reward for it, some bronze decoration (which lets me know that there ARE steps above that), which I displayed in my house cuz....bragging rights? XD

Swindled!

So, like I said before, the museum expanded to add an art exhibit (which it really should’ve started with). This means that I got my first visit from this, er, friendly face-

-who invited me to visit his collection. It took me a bit to find his boat, which is kinda embarrassing.....but once I was there, I was initially very cautious. Going off of what he did in New Leaf, I knew not to trust him completely, buuuuut......at the same time, I really wanted to give Blathers some art, and I had no idea to tell the right from the wrong, if you know what I mean.....So, after mulling it over, I bought a statue. XD I knew it probably wasn’t the smartest choice, but I’m completely in the dark about most art pieces and was too lazy to look stuff up, so....I just hoped that either I was lucky, or his gimmick was different in this game that it was in New Leaf.

.......Weeeeeell, turns out that the statue was a total fake. WELP. I sure felt like an idiot after that! XD Yeeeeaaaah, I’m probably not gonna be throwing Bells at this guy all willy-nilly again after that. Eh, I deserve it. Shows me to ignore the obvious warning signs!

The wonders of coloring stuff

I’m now able to customize furniture, which I immediately put to good use! You’ll be seeing that in the next house update. Also, remember the shell lamp I was gonna give Margie? I customized it before giving it to her. I gave it a shiny pearl-like color. Cuz I just adore Margie so much already! I’ll try not to spoil her, but still.....you could say that I’ve taken a shine to her....C-cuz....lamp, shiny....moving on.

Gigajolt

Hazel, the funny lil sassmaster that she is, came up with a nickname for me......Gigajolt. I.....literally have no idea where it came from, it has nothing to do with my name......and I like it. I like it because it’s like Hazel herself - quirky, yet I can’t help but love it.

This flower doesn’t go here!

Remember my flowerbed? Well, after it rained, naturally, more flowers started growing around it. I anticipated this, and was prepared to relocate any new tulips to that the flowerbed will keep its....sh-shape......I’ve done this a few times, but....guess what happened yesterday? A different color tulip started growing! I thought that could only happen if two colors bred, but....no, all I had was red tulips! Just red! But this new one looks like it’s gonna be BLACK!? How did that happen? Well, after it grows, I’m certainly keeping some souvenirs.....O__O

Also, while I’m talking about flowers, I’ve planted another bed recently, this one fenced in, of red and while lilies (as an experiment), as well as planting some lilies outside of each villager’s house (cuz I wanna show them I care).

Striking gold

This one’s pretty simple - I found my first gold nugget, completely at random! I’ve been so used to hitting rocks everyday, collecting iron and clay.....and I was NOT expecting something new like that! I wonder how rare it is.....Maybe it’s really rare, or maybe it’s not and I’ve just been unlucky up till now. Either way, it was a pleasant surprise. XD Now to find out what it could be used for....

Plans for the future

I still haven’t found the time to plant my orchard, and I really should get on that! That should be my next big thing to do! ......If I don’t get distracted again, and it really seems like this game keeps throwing new objectives at me. XD For example, my newest problem is that my storage is full. Taking all the fruit out WILL help that, but not enough. This means that.....yup, I’m gonna have to expand my house soon. Not complaining, since I do have a lot of stuff. I REALLY like saving things for later, or even hanging on to things I’ll never use just because they were gifs. XD I’m.....sentimental like that, I guess.

#heartstone island stories

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corellianangel · 6 years ago

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Lollipop

For @otterandterrier Scoundress Saturdays prompt - “I’m not staring at you eating your popsicle // I’m not eating my popsicle all suggestive-like to make you stare” ...In which the popsicle is replaced by a lollipop in this story.

Rating: M (below the cut)

Timeline: Star Wars rebellion era, Empire Strikes Back. Millennium Falcon interior, the trip to Bespin

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A dense cloud of steam billowed from the ship’s engine hold. Beyond the plume of vapor, could be heard the crisp curse of a human male and the animalistic howl of a Wookiee’s outrage. The golden-plated protocol droid C-3PO - fussed, interfered and complained incessantly; rarely providing useful information. Klaxons rang throughout the freighter. Crimson emergency lighting flashed over the ribbed bulkheads. As the ship’s captain would put it, currently; “All hell was breaking loose.”

Princess Leia tucked down the tails of the Millennium Falcon’s captain’s shirt in under her buttocks, crossed her bare legs, stuck her lollipop in her mouth, and used her toe to push away from the engineering console, spinning in place on her stool. Every second rotation, she noted the numbers on the data-output; some red, most yellow, a couple in the green. Leia sighed, popped the candy out of her mouth and gave it a long suffering and critical look.

Assigned to status monitoring duty, on the narrow stool next to the aft engineering station, Leia was within sight of the flurry of activity in the engine hold. Hours earlier, the ship’s cooling lines erupted, threatening to overheat their backup hyperdrive – a plodding one-shot emergency drive they were using instead of the Falcon's temperamental, delicately tuned, military-grade hyperdrive. If their backup gave out, the ship likely would take centuries to reach the closest port, and the crew would all be dead of dehydration or starvation long before arrival.

Nothing to worry about though, Sweetheart, the princess silently informed the generously sized lollipop. Leia had secured the sugary treat a couple of nights earlier in an incredibly intense sabacc card game. Top prize was the citrus and cream candy sucker, found in the bottom of a storage bin – age: unknown, but hell... it was merely processed sugar anyway. So the trio gambled for it, since a single lollipop could not be fairly distributed like a bag of crisps.

Leia resumed spinning on her stool in a leisurely circle, sucking indulgently at her sweet taste of victory. She mentally repeated the Falcon’s captain’s reassurance upon the instance of the ship’s various alarms blaring earlier. Everything’s gonna be fine, Princess.

Leia snorted. As if. It didn’t take a battle-hardened politician like Leia, to see through Han’s dismissive reassurances.

To bolster Leia’s pessimistic opinion of the state of the ship, and possibly their fate – there was another opaque burst of coolant steam. The corridor filled with bluish white clouds and the high-pitched scream of burst piping. As if in harmony, the roar of a Wookiee accompanied the venting steam. Then the sputtering sharp-tongued response of the captain.

Leia twirled the pop in her mouth. Abruptly, two of the alarms were either shut off, or had simply died. Nothing on the ship appeared to function reliably, it seemed. Her gaze flicked to the status readout. Leia groaned inwardly. Still critical.

Chewbacca’s roaring carried on for some time, along with the distant tinny responses from the captain. The steam abated further to a degree, the cacophony calmed somewhat, and there were skeptical assents. More clattering of tools and then Han’s curt “Hang on a minute. I’ll check.”

Musing idly about how long repairs would take yet, Leia traced the circumference of the lollipop. It was - initially- of fairly substantial size, tinted to represent the peel and pith of a non-descript citrus fruit. And the flavor of fruit - even artificial - after months of rationing onboard this crippled wreck, was something Leia didn’t realise she absolutely needed.

She might have to pull her blaster on the boys if they ever found any real fruit onboard during this ridiculous trip.

“Mmmm.” Leia allowed the edge of the treat to rest against her bottom lip. She exhaled, closing her eyes to better visualize it as actual fruit. And at this point, anything would suffice.

Socorran lemon. Mar-fruit. Oh yessss - maybe...maybe Festian lime.

“Mmmm.” Leia repeated once more, at the succulent recollections.

Chewbacca’s complaints suddenly interrupted Leia’s thoughts. The Wookiee bellowed in irritation, calling for his captain. Leia’s brows furrowed, struggling mightily to maintain her fantasizing despite the noise. She startled, as Chewie raucously called for Han once more. Two more times, followed by a death threat against the captain, and Leia’s concentration and motivation just broke. She cursed under her breath and made to find Han. As she rose off the stool toward the door, she stopped dead.

Han was leaning rather exhaustedly against the hatch. His hand wrapped around the edge of the door, clinging to it as if he was about to be swept away. Mouth agape, he just stared at Leia.

Leia considered Han’s expression, “Captain?” She was torn between teasing the Rebel smuggler, or scolding him to get back to work. “You have a ship to repair, yes?”

Han continued to gape dumbly.

A weird silence followed, and feeling something off, Leia flushed and licked at the dribble of sugar collecting at the edge of her mouth, using her finger to subtly remove the rest.

Han sucked in his breath, gasping as if he’d been robbed of lung capacity. He gestured weakly at Leia, and struggled to speak.

Oh gods. Did she have some on her face too? Leia felt the mortified blush spread from her inflamed cheeks to nape to chest. As she checked her person for more dribbles, she caught a sticky strip on her wrist and sucked the offending sugar smear off.

Han appeared to sigh and meld into the frame of the doorway further.

Leia blinked at him. And then it dawned.

Oooh…

Han’s subsequent lost expression was about the cutest thing she’d ever seen. And Leia misplaced whatever shred of logic, decency or self-restraint she’d had a minute ago. Or before that, or well…whatever.

Han opened his mouth to speak, until Leia - opting for rather mischievous; curiously, deliberately, very deliberately ran the top edge of the lollipop against the base of her lip while gazing directly into Han’s gleaming green-gold eyes.

Han’s knees slackened to a point where Leia was concerned that he might fall to his knees in some form of prostration, and his jaw appeared to want to follow suit.

There was a clank, a wookiee’s bark of outrage, and new pitch of escaping steam from the engine room.

In the distance, Chewbacca detailed a holo-worthy version of how he was going to dismember his captain, if Han did not garner an appearance – immediately.

The copilot then promised removal of certain parts of Han’s anatomy, that Leia had admittedly grown extremely fond of in the last two months.

“I think Chewie wants you.” Leia reminded Han dryly.

Han shook his head dreamily, “He’s got it under control. Don’t need me. Threepio is pretty good helping out too.”

“Now that’s the absolute, worst lie, I have ever heard you tell.”

Han feigned shock, his hand going to his heart, lips pursed and brows peaked in mock innocence.

C3PO’s distant nattering to Chewbacca grew to an elevated pitch, that ended in a robotic squeal of terror. Leia’s brows rose in wonderment as the prissy protocol droid then scuttled past, begging to not be disassembled. Han jerked back into the present crisis, and swore colorfully. More than just mildly amused, Leia gave him a small wave goodbye as the more familiar scowling countenance and grease-streaked (oh - and sweaty, and lean, and tan, and, and..) form of Captain Solo blinked out of his stupor, and stalked after C3PO, threatening methodical, deliberate, and gradual disassembly by Han’s hydrospanner.

Left alone for the moment, Leia pouted at the lollipop.

We might die sooner, rather than later. Oh, but we all know the hated protocol droid will outlive us all, the princess mused ironically, languidly sucking at her lollipop in conclusion.

Nearly purple with rage, Han had returned from the opposite direction, pushing a protesting C3PO before him. He was swearing at the droid in an unfamiliar guttural tongue - Huttese, in all likelihood. Whatever language it was, it had an impressive arsenal of threats and insults it seemed, as C-3PO absolutely did not want to be tossed back onto that hellpit of Tatooine and sold to the Hutts and, and, and, and... Then the droid was forced around the corner, out of Leia’s line of sight, wailing and complaining as if its photoceptors were being torn from it. Leia craned her neck to follow the pair, witnessing them disappear into the once-again expanding cloud of vapor that was emitting from the engine chamber.

Was it green now?

When no-one emerged immediately, and the relative chaos of work sounds resumed, Leia spun the chair again, retracing the edges of the lollipop with her tongue. The occasional glimpse at the gauges confirmed that the hyperdrive’s coolant pressures were levelling off. Leia pushed off with her toe from the console once more, closed her eyes and dropped her head back, feeling the blood rush to her skull as she spun. Lightheaded and vision blurred, Leia slowly righted at the end of her rotation, letting her head loll comfortably on the pivot of her neck. She was reminded of being a child in the palace gardens on Alderaan, spinning in place with her best friend Winter. Whirling, giggling and challenging each other until they collapsed, dizzy, dirty and nauseous amidst the sweet scent of grasses and mountain wildflowers.

She wondered what Winter would have thought of Han.

Time passed, and the crew toiled to repair the ship. Leia chose not to check the chrono, as it would be far too depressing. She suspected the boys were well aware of the passage of shifts, though they continued on like heroes. At one point Leia realized it had been some time since anybody had threatened to dismember someone else (usually Threepio) – that she spotted Chewie headed in the direction of the ship’s refresher facilities. Leia studied the ship’s monitors, noting the reflection of the woman opposite. Early twenties, petite pale human female, chestnut hair done up in a braid that brushed the bottom of her buttocks. Weeks of rest, regular sleep and meals aboard this wounded, crawling vessel she was forced to take refuge on, had transformed Leia’s features from hollowed and wan, to blushing and bright. A smile now often stood in place of what had been a grim, taut line of battle on a bereaved princess that had witnessed the destruction of her home planet, and was now a twenty-three year old seasoned general in a galactic revolution.

Leia had indeed changed.

And there was a glint - an emotion there. One Leia wouldn’t have recognized two months ago; happiness - love even. Leia gave that girl in her reflection a secret, meaningful look, I know why you’re smiling.

Laughing to herself, Leia stuck the lolly in her mouth, shut her eyes, spun and allowed the chair to naturally slow to a stop. The dizziness swept through her, and the blood rushed in her ears once more. Then suddenly, the lollipop was plucked from where it hung between her lips. Leia’s head jerked up, visibly offended. Vertigo almost claimed her as a result.

“Hey!”

Captain Han Solo stood across from her, arms crossed, leaning against the ship’s bulkhead, Leia’s lollipop bulging in his cheek. The toolbelt around the smuggler’s hips rode his bloodstripes low, the upper crest of his hips’ bones visible and utterly tempting above the beltline. Han wiped his hands on possibly the filthiest rag Leia had ever seen. His once-white tank top was scarcely better, and Han’s exposed skin was flushed with heat, slickened with sweat, and blackened with trails of grease. Han gave her his most impish look, noisily rolling Leia’s treat around his back teeth.

“That’s mine!” Leia cried. She made a swipe for the candy. Han tilted his body out of reach with the speed of a born gunfighter, lithe and lightning quick, chuckling at her efforts.

“Thought I’d borrow it for a minute.” Han grinned. The smuggler twisted away once more, and Leia’s fingers caught on the double-prong belt that circled his hips. Han stepped sideways theatrically as she dragged him closer. Leia used to hate the fact he made her laugh with his antics. The last few weeks had altered her opinion on that. He made her human. Made her safe, comfortable. Made her feel (and feel loved, even).

Especially, he made her smile. Often. And that was important.

“Thief! Scoundrel!” Leia snagged Han’s shirt front with her other hand. Han mock-struggled as Leia pulled, eventually nestling in a spot by her knees. The moisture from the labor, steam and overheated drive fluids ran in rivulets down the slope of his exposed shoulders, and in wider lines down the sinewy contours of his bared arms. Leia traced her upper lip with her tongue, taking in this very delectable human treat in front of her. She oh-so wanted to—

Oh, but he was so filthy.

Leia released her hold on Han’s belt, instead tracing a line down the prominent ridge of the vein on his bicep, leaving a trail of clean, tanned skin. Han’s teeth ground around Leia’s sabacc prize. He edged in closer and waggled his eyebrows at the princess flirtatiously. Grinning, Leia ducked, fixing him with a warning tone, then booped him in the nose reproachfully. “You are incredibly dirty.”

Han’s speech, lisping around the lollipop, echoed through the metal confines of the engineering alcove, “sDidn’t bother you earlier, Shweetheart.”

No? Yes, she had to admit that it hadn’t. In fact, Leia was beginning to enjoy Han in varying states of disarray, disorder, unshaveness, and undress. And filth...Oh so very, very much.

The Princess reeled Han in further by the fabric of that awful stained tank top. Drawn in by the promise behind those emerald, copper and gold eyes. She got him close enough, to feel the breath expelled from his nose on her periphery. Han gave her a side-eye.

“I am actually very dirty,” declared the Corellian. “But Chewie’s in the sonic shower right now. And I’d rather straighten up, than deal with a tired and pissed-off, coolant-soaked wookiee.”

“Is it ‘done?’” Leia referred to the repair, then made a quick grab for the lolly’s stick in Han’s mouth. Han merely, deftly shied away again.

Thief!

“Done as it can be. Got Threepio cleaning up the tools too,” he smugly replied. Han sucked at thinning lolly thoughtfully. And, watching Han, having him so close, and so obscenely rugged looking; Leia’s imagination began to drift down a path, that would end up with Han and her most definitely not getting clean.

Scoundrel, Leia thought at Han fondly.

“Really?” Leia complained, attempting to carry on some vestige of acceptable conversation. “Can’t you find something less menial for Threepio to do? He can’t manipulate his hands that well. It’ll take him forever!”

Han twitched, “Forever? My! What a shame, your Highnessness.” Han dove into an imitation of Threepio’s haughty core-world voice. Shaking her head at him, though smiling broadly as she did; Leia gave Han’s shirt a sharp tug, leaning in invitingly. Han refused to retreat this time, and Leia plucked the lollipop from his mouth. Han began to object when Leia closed the distance and pressed her lips to his instead. Han’s two days growth of facial hair was rough against her chin and cheek, but the taste of that mouth and the way his tongue twisted with hers...

Gods, he was dirty. Dirty, sweaty and delicious.

Tucking her lollipop behind her back with one hand, Leia hauled at Han’s shirt, her nails inadvertently ripping a fist-sized section of dingy white fabric loose on the upper edge of his abdominals. Han initially objected with a “Hey!” ...until Leia planted her mouth on his again. When they came up for air, Han hastily yanked the offending garment over his head, while Leia’s gaze roved over him approvingly; taking in the flex of bronze pectorals, the sharp ridges of obliques on his sides, the scattering of coppery hair on his chest.

Absolutely delicious, the princess affirmed, eager to devour this gorgeous treat that walked and talked, fired, fought and flew for her Rebellion, and swore up and down that he only did it for the money – but never took so much as a credit.

She thought she might love him. She knew he did love her.

Heart fluttering somewhere in the vicinity of her collar, Leia gave a slightly strangled, “Guess we got time then.” Uncrossing her legs, Leia reeled Han in by that damn belt again. The princess and the smuggler’s lips met, dueled and the heat began to build between them – a fire fueled by three years of built up tension. Three years of self-restraint for him, and three years of self-denial for her; it lit and flared - quick and hot, boiling over into a searing, soul-filling passion. Leia’s hands slid into the slick strands at the nape of his neck and Han’s grease stained fingers cupped her jaw. He squared his hips with hers, pressing in close. Then, closer yet. Their need evident by the pressure against her hip, and the hot press of her body against his, and the wild entanglement of her fingers in his hair.

When they broke for oxygen, their chests were heaving, and dark eyes smoldering. Han held up his index finger between them, indicating a need for a moment’s respite. He let out a short laugh after a few gasping seconds, “That-, That-” the Corellian began. Unable to finish, to muster even a complete phrase; Han’s eyes became saucers when he saw that Leia had unbuckled his tool harness, allowing it clatter to the deck around his feet. Tongue tucked between her teeth in effort, Leia’s fingers began to work at the two prongs of Han’s trouser belt. “Ah, kriff Leia, “ the Corellian cursed hoarsely instead.

“I’ve been sitting here for hours watching you like this,” Leia confided in a whisper, as she yanked the last length of leather belting from Han’s narrow waist. “So… Gods, Han. I didn’t know how much I enjoyed watching someone else work. Until now.”

“You liked watching me well enough. At least as far back as Hubin.” Han reminded her.

Two and a half years earlier, they’d been stranded for weeks on a planet with no regular ship traffic, no communications, no currency system, and an agrarian group of recluses - their entire economy built on a system of barter and trade. With nothing to barter with on hand, Han had kept himself, Luke, and Leia comfortable by performing physical labor for the locals. The work was arduous, and outdoors under the hot sun. So, with only one set of clothes available to him, Han was often stripped to the waist. And Leia would somehow manage to stumble across Han’s work site at least once or twice a day. Especially if it was rather warm outside.

Leia laughed shyly at the memory, “Oh yes. I remember that.” She traced circles on his chest, studying the pattern of hair she disturbed. Leia looked at Han up and down, and she purred sinfully,

“I was not checking on you. I just wasn't sure about trusting our hosts,” It wasn’t necessarily an outright lie.

Han’s laugh was short – unbelieving. And Leia couldn’t blame him. “Yeah, sure. More like checking me out.”

Well....Yes.

Instead, Leia hummed noncommittally. She pulled at him again. Han stumbled forward. Their mouths met once more, and words were lost to them.

Lips devouring the salty, glistening hollow at the base of Han’s throat, Leia’s hand traced the vertical dip in the center of Han’s chest. Han gasped, and snatched her wrist when she reached his navel. Ticklish, Leia surmised with private glee. With his hand free, Han winked and suddenly pilfered the lollipop from behind the princess.

What the?!

Leia yelped and pawed at Han. The smuggler muted her by shoving the disputed lolly in her teeth. Leia snarled at him over it in response. Her teeth clenched ferociously around the hard candy, as Han took a half step in reverse, then lowered to his knees.

“What are you–“ Leia began, and couldn’t finished as shivers rolled through her torso. Han licked a delicate line from the tip of her knee, along the midline of Leia’s thigh, up - just using the absolute tip of his tongue.

The man had talents. And Leia’s sole regret, was that she should have initiated this relationship, this thing between them years ago.

“Han,” Leia clamped down hard on the lolly, as Han’s open mouth grazed the top of her thigh along the hem of Leia’s borrowed shirt. Her palm slapped on the round of Han’s shoulder, the edge her nails digging in. “Please.”

“‘I’m dirty, Leia. Really, really dirty.“ Han reminded her in a baritone murmur, moving in with a short hum of approval as Leia hiked up the shirt to expose a scandalous amount of hip. Han snapped his teeth playfully at her, then went in for the kill, and dragged unsuccessfully at the hem of her underwear. Entangled, he then looked up a Leia a little helplessly with a loop of lace caught up in his eye-teeth.

Sniggering naughtily, Leia obliged Han, first shutting him up by stuffing her candy into his mouth. Han observed her shimmying out of the slip of fabric. The panties dropped to drape over the wide strips of Han’s leather belting on the floor.

Leia tilted Han’s chin up at her, and addressed him in a rough command, “Then get dirty with me.”

“Is that an order, General?” Han teased.

Gazing up at her worshipfully, and planted so uncharacteristically on his knees, Han’s lips were pursed woefully around the worn stick of Leia’s nearly depleted lollipop. The Princess then couldn’t help herself from giggling down at the pilot. Han pouted comically, until Leia popped the treat from his mouth, returning it to her own. She held it ostentatiously pinched between forefinger and thumb, her ring finger and pinkie raised elegantly behind.

“I’m a princess first. I only give commands.”

Han barked with amusement, then growled seductively, and scraped his teeth along her thigh. He carried on, alternately licking and sucking at her flesh in what could be considered a less modest area of her leg. Han kissed her from hip to knee in a trail of electric anticipation. At first, the Princess merely basked in the skillful flick of the smuggler’s mouth against her heated skin, until Leia’s hand yanked the back of his tousled brown hair – hard.

And he hadn’t even used his hands or fingers yet.

Gods… He was so good.

When Han’s careful oral ministrations reached the apex of her thighs, Leia was forced to wrench the candy sucker from her lips, panting and arching her spine. Fumbling blindly, the princess slapped the remaining sliver of lollipop on the engineering console. Leia gripped Han’s head with trembling hands, wrapped a leg over his shoulder, burying her face in the sweaty mess of his hair as he buried his face between her thighs. Leia’s voice quivered in anticipation, as she fought to regain her breath. The princess was beyond orders, or commands, or any thought further than—

“Yes. Please.”

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Approaching the end of Chewie’s shift, a good twelve hours later, the wookiee co-pilot discovered the forgotten candy, cemented by its dried sugar to the console surface. Delicately, he picked at it with a foreclaw, and eventually he removed it with minor effort.

The Falcon’s co-pilot considered the treat for a moment. He sniffed it, sniffed the air, made a harsh grimace, then shot the treat another appraising look, and licked it experimentally.

Chewie tilted his head, thought about it, then made a resigned shrug. He shoved the remainder of the abandoned lollipop in his fangs and crunched down on the candy as he completed his shift’s tasks for the day.

It could barely be considered recompense for all this overdue, ridiculous human mating ritual drama he had to put up with after all.

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hellsparadiseessays · 6 years ago

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Chapter 66 - The gourd

Disclaimer : As usual, this is Spoiler Central so go catch up if you haven’t done so yet. Also, I’m not Japanese nor Chinese so what I’m explaining here is supported by the research I did beforehand. Finally, English isn’t my native language and lately my brain hasn’t exactly been the most functional so yeah, sorry if there’s typos and some dodgy grammar (yes, this one has been difficult to type, that’s why I tried to keep it as simple as possible). That said, I hope you’ll find this write up entertaining or informative!

There is a neat little detail in chapter 66 I hope you all caught: Rien put the Elixir of Immortality in a small bottle shaped like a gourd. Now you may ask “but Crow, why is it relevant, we often see bottles like that in manga and anime”. Well, it is more relevant than you think, both from a meta perspective (cultural aspect of the gourd in Japan and China) and from a narrative perspective. In fact, Rien *had* to use a gourd for many reasons.

I. The practical use of a gourd

From a strictly practical perspective, the fruits we know as gourds have been used for food, but also as musical instruments or as bottles when dried. The process takes some months for the gourd to completely dry, and the fruit must be turned regularly to dry evenly. Once it’s dry, the seeds in it can be used for a musical purpose, or it can be opened and used as a container. It is even possible to give the gourd a specific shape when it’s growing – the 8 shape being very common, 8 being considered a lucky number (and making it convenient to tie a rope and have a portable gourd). There is a reason why, nowadays, the image of the old but eccentric mentor figure in anime and manga can be portrayed as an old man with an 8-shaped gourd used to keep sake, for example. It all has a practical and cultural basis that can be found pretty far back in time.

II. Symbols of the gourd

The gourd is linked to a lot of symbols, especially in China.

It is commonly used as a charm to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck because of the way it is pronounced. Called *hulu*, it has the same pronunciation as the words meaning “to guard” and “blessing” (both pronounced *hu*) as well as “happiness” (*fulu*). The word for creeper (like a gourd vine) is *màn*, which sounds like *wàn*, the word for 10 000, myriad and forever. As such, gourds and creepers are often associated to symbolise immortality.

The image of the gourd appears often in Chinese mythology as well: used as a boat to escape the deluge, used as a magic tool to trap Sun Wukong (spoiler alert: Sun Wukong didn’t get caught in the end because he’s smarter than that)... And in early Taoism, it is used to describe Chaos (Emperor Hun-Tun’s tale). Indeed, the image of the cosmic egg-gourd that holds Paradise at the beginning and end of time, seems prevalent in Taoism and helps explain the search for balance and immortality: Taoist Chaos is a place and state where all opposites are equal and balanced, where notions like hot and cold don’t exist anymore, where dreams are real and reality is unreal. These concepts are meant to encourage a spiritual journey in oneself to find that paradise. To go even further, the ultimate Taoist body, in its primordial state, should be that of a faceless hermaphrodite with techniques that are frightening to the uninitiated. And I am pointing that last point out specifically because you know what matches that description in Jigokuraku? Lord Tensen’s Kishikai forms.

Knowing all that, it makes sense that Rien *had* to put the elixir in a gourd specifically. It completely suits the theme of the island.

III. What the Elixir is supposedly made of

Now this is the fun part, at least for me, because it’s both amusing and horrific. See, while in the manga we learn that Chôbe’s body parts are essential for the Elixir I’ll never forgive Rien jfc, in the actual myth about the elixir, two rather interesting elements are used to compose that fancy Paradise Potion. I’m straying a bit from the initial point of this writeup on purpose here, but it allows me to expand a bit on a point I mentioned in my previous essay.

See, the Elixir of Immortality is said to be composed of various elements one shouldn’t ingest, such as jade or arsenic. Two curious elements used to symbolise the masculine and feminine aspects are specifically used: mercury for the semen, and cinnabar for the menstruation blood (balance of Feminine and Masculine, I think you get the point now). Now Cinnabar is a vermillion stone which, once refined, turns into mercury. Interestingly enough, I wouldn’t be surprised if this stone was the basis for the Philosopher’s Stone (often envisioned as a glass-like red stone in its purest form, just like cinnabar ore). Now, ladies and gentlemen, have you ever heard of *mercury poisoning*?

Because the Elixir of Life is basically “how to poison yourself 101” from a modern point of view, and mercury poisoning is especially not fun to deal with. Now what happens when one gets mercury poisoning? Well, here is a little list of the symptoms: peripheral neuropathy (movements and vision are affected, with a loss of coordination and of peripheral vision), painful sensations of burning and itching, discoloration and shedding of the skin, memory loss and insomnia... Potentially leading to coma and death if left untreated. Organic mercury (methylmercury) is especially vicious when it comes to poisoning, since it’s an element notoriously that builds itself up in the food chain. Wondering why pregnant women are advised against eating fish? This is the reason why, and fish and whales are closely watched for that reason as well. Interesting fact: the character of the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland is based on hatters being poisoned by the mercury they used for their work. Furthermore, the loss of coordination may make one look drunk... Coincidentally, the Eight Immortals are traditionally associated with a certain martial art imitating the movements of a drunk person. I’m not saying there *is* a link, but it knowing what we know, it may not be totally unfounded, right?

If you are curious, I suggest you to check about two interesting modern cases of mercury poisoning. The first one is the widespread poisoning in Minamata (Kumamoto prefecture, Kyushu) in the 50s, that led to the name Minamata disease for mercury poisoning (a second case happened in the 60s in Niigata prefecture, Honshu). The other case is the poisoning of Karen Wetterhahn in the late 90s, which led to a tightening of the regulations concerning the manipulation of mercury, especially with the use of special gloves that are completely impervious to mercury – thus reducing the risk of poisoning through the skin.

And with this, we’re done with this short essay! While it’s not much compared to what I’ve been producing until now, it was interesting to do all of that research! I was aware of Minamata disease thanks to the lore masters of Bloodborne such as Redgrave or Aegon of Astora and their research about mercury, which has a major place in the game. However, I was not familiar with it to the extent of knowing about its references in Chinese myths, so it was yet again an occasion to generally improve my knowledge about stuff that’ll be utterly useless for my daily life! But hey, it’s what makes it so attractive.

For my next write-ups, I’ll have the long-awaited Criminality and Misery essay, as well as a Chôbe rant (y e s) I’ve been thinking about this past month. I guess I’ll do this one first to get it out of the way? I don’t know, I did wanted to at least have the first part of C&M out of the way before Sunday (because this part makes me think about the Aza bros a lot and I end up depressed everytime so I’d like to have it out before we see them again in the manga)... Yeah guess I’ll work on both stuff in parallel and try the insane bet of getting them out before Sunday. Besides, the Chôbe rant shouldn’t be too long, it’ll be mostly the explanation of a trope often used in literature that, I think, matches with Murder Bae perfectly.

Sources

Symbols of the gourd and the creeper

Myth and meaning in early Taoism: the theme of Chaos (Hun-Tun), by N. J. Girardot

Sacred gourd myths

Mercury poisoning

The poisoning of KW

#jigokuraku #hell's paradise #tensen #elixir of immortality #mercury #mercury poisoning #gourd #chinese culture

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agirlinjapan · 6 years ago

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Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars (Week 13)

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

Miss the last piece? Read it here!

Check out the RDG Translation twitter!

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Hmm. I guess I should have known that I’d have trouble getting week 13 up on time. Thanks for waiting! My area got hit with a big snow storm and I was out shoveling later than expected. (I’m actually going back out now that this is posted...) I hope January has brought a good start to the year to all of you!

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 2: Reexamination Part 3 (1 of 3)

The next day, there were far more rumors flying around Class 1-C than there had been the day before.

Just before lunch, Miyuu walked out of the classroom, only to run back inside.

“Look out, Izu! Takayanagi’s here again,” she gasped out to Izumiko.

Izumiko frowned, but this time she didn’t know at which; Takayanagi or Miyuu who looked like she wanted to expand the rumors even further.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to warn me…”

“No! It drives me nuts how you can talk so calmly about this!” Miyuu waved both her hands around in the air as if she was making some big gesture. “Angelica is here with him! Takayanagi brought Angelica here to Class C!”

The other girls around Izumiko perked up at Miyuu’s words.

“What? Is there going to be a fight over a love triangle?”

“A showdown between Japan and France over Takayanagi?!”

“No!” Izumiko said, but she knew very well that no one was listening to her. Even the boys were talking about the approaching visitors now and joining in on the rumors currently flying around the classroom. Angelica was a second year student, and as a result, there wouldn’t have been many chances for first year boys to approach her. What was more, she was the most popular female exchange student, and no boy would want to miss a chance to see her.

I do wonder what Angelica thinks of me…

Anxiety flitted through Izumiko’s chest although it was unrelated to what her classmates thought of the current situation. During the Warring States era game when Izumiko had made Takayanagi’s shikigami disappear, Angelica and Claus had been right there. Right after that, they had definitely seen Takayanagi turn into a dog as well.

Angelica’s not a normal girl either. She has no problems with the magic Takayanagi uses and she was even able to explain what was going on with the ghosts. There are exchange students with special abilities here too, I guess. And they’re close with the diviners…

Izumiko doubted that she and Angelica would ever be friends at this point, but if the blonde girl had come all this way to see her, it appeared that some sort of truce could be possible. As much as she disliked it, Izumiko didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. She stood up from her chair. Seeing as Takayanagi’s arrival had come with even more fanfare than the day before, it seemed reasonable to assume that Miyuki and Mayura already knew about the visit.

The girls in class all shot questions towards her.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get into a fight? Are you really going to let yourself get pulled into this? You’re so quiet! She could eat you alive!”

“What if she wins him over? Doesn’t that scare you?”

Izumiko smiled awkwardly to herself. Angelica was more frightened her of than she was of Angelica. The truth was the complete opposite of what everyone else was assuming.

“I’m fine. I’ve talked with her and she’s nice. Besides, we’re not fighting over Takayanagi.”

Izumiko’s braids swayed back and forth at her waist as she walked out of the room alone. The girls behind her clumped together, watching.

“That picture of Izumiko dressed as a Warring States era princess is really popular, but don’t you think she’s changed a little since then? She has some sort of new confidence to her now.”

“Could she be a girl who’s grown stronger through love?”

“Before, I never knew if she was here or not, but now she’s the most popular person in 1-C…”

When Izumiko walked out into the hallway, Takayanagi, as well as Angelica, were indeed walking in Class C’s direction. Angelica might not have been dressed up in armor this time, but she was still much taller than Takayanagi.

Not much light came into the hallway on the first floor of the classroom building, but even in a place with such weak light, the shine and slight wave of Angelica’s blonde hair was still visible. She had a matching bright smile on her face, and her eyes were a clear blue grey. Even the way she walked was different from Japanese people. Izumiko could understand why the boys stared at her.

When Takayanagi was standing in front of Izumiko, he said, “Izumiko, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to settle things today after school. President Hodaka will be here, and the more we draw this match out, the more likely tricks and interference are to occur. We can’t let that happen for both our sakes, wouldn’t you agree?”

While Mayura had told her yesterday that the souvenir sweets from Kyoto were safe for her to eat, she had since lost interest in them, and they were now sitting in her dorm room. Right now, Izumiko did not feel the need to thank Takayanagi for them. She had more reason to be suspicious of tricks than he did.

“That’s fine with me. I think I’d rather get it over with.”

The number of on looking students in the hall had grown from the day before, but Izumiko did see that Miyuki and the Souda siblings were standing among them.

“But how will we do this match?” she asked Takayanagi calmly. “There are club activities after school, and I doubt we’ll find any open space.”

Takayanagi also seemed aware of Miyuki and the others’ presences.

“I don’t mind making the rules that we’ll follow, but you and your friends will most likely claim they’re unfair or something of that sort. Because of that, Angelica agreed to come with me. Let her reintroduce herself to you. You’ll understand why when she does.”

“Hello, Izumiko. How are you?” Angelica’s greeting was straight out of a textbook. She wasn’t treating it as a joke though, and her expression was serious. As always, her nasally voice was charming. “I was very surprised by what happened the other day. I thought Takayanagi was the only student at this school who could lead everyone else. I wanted to talk to you before because you were so cute dressed as a princess at the demonstration. I didn’t realize you were as powerful as Takayanagi. Now though, I really want to see how similar the two of you are. I’d like a second chance to compare you.”

Izumiko gazed at Angelica. The blonde was on Takayanagi’s side. She doubted that had changed.

“Why did you think Takayanagi was the only one?” she asked cautiously. “Is it because you’re a diviner, too?”

“No, I’m more of a normal high school girl than that. I specialize in tarot and astrology, and I have a bit of a sixth sense. I love Japan, and I’ve studied Japanese for a long time, so I was chosen to come to this school.”

Angelica turned her head, making her hair swing back and forth in the process. Then she continued. “However, I had heard about Takayanagi in France. I was chosen to come here by a group of people doing a preliminary investigation about kids like him at this school. I’m a student who’s interested in becoming a researcher in the future, but at the same time, I’m also part of a special group that works under the IUCN.”

“The IUCN?” Izumiko repeated.

Instead of voicing her answer right away, Angelica quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out a notepad. Then she flipped through the pages and read, almost in relief, “The International Union for the Conservation of Nature.—I have to get better at saying that.”

She continued reading from the notebook. “Before the World Heritage Center presents a recommended candidate to the World Heritage Committee Conference, the evaluation process of said candidate is entrusted to IUCN or ICOMOS. The committee for evaluating a human candidate has yet to be created, and while it is unknown if IUCN will receive the bid, it can be reasonably assumed that the candidate will be entered onto the “Endangered World Heritage” list, and the provisional first investigations are moving forward.”

“The international… Union for the Conservation…”

Izumiko had only caught half of the alphabetic name, half of the group’s full name, and half of what Angelica had read out in such a monotonous voice. She was pretty sure she had heard that strange term “World Heritage Candidate” come out of Angelica’s mouth though.

“So, you’re a judge who’s come from overseas to do research? Are you doing the same sort of thing as as Hodaka?”

“I’m not a judge. I don’t know anything about the student government at this school or the chairman. My group is unofficial, and the investigation we’re doing is just a first look into what’s going on here, so we really don’t have any authority. I’m only here to send back a report.”

“Is Claus also…”

“Yes, Claus has the same job as me. He just returned to his country because of an emergency. I stayed behind.”

Takayanagi cut in. “This is the fairness I was talking about.”

Angelica looked at Takayanagi and nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. After speaking with Takayanagi, I also wanted to speak with you and the student government members. I want you to know that I’d like to watch the match between you two.”

Izumiko looked up in confusion. “Are you saying you’re going to make the rules?”

Takayanagi broke in again. “Izumiko, Angelica is different from Hodaka. She truly understands what the World Heritage Candidate is being chosen for. Hodaka is only using his abilities as an oracle. This is an international problem.”

Izumiko made sure not to look at Takayanagi. If she did, she had a feeling that she would lose the confidence she had gained recently. Still, even Angelica’s expression had taken on a serious, almost somewhat cold look to it. Angelica leaned forward, suddenly bringing her face close enough to Izumiko’s that she could almost make out the freckles on the other girl’s face.

“There have been a number of prophecies and predictions,” the French girl whispered. “There is a search taking place all over the world right now for someone born in the same year as you. They won’t necessarily be from Japan, but we need to find one person. They could be from anywhere in the world. That person will save humanity.”

While Izumiko was still staring wide eyed at Angelica, Takayanagi said with an air of self-importance, “Isn’t it sad not to know these things? I wanted you to at least have the same viewpoint to think about as me before the match. That way, after it’s over, you can reconsider what you were going up against.”

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#rdg #red data girl #rdg 6 week 13 #rdg my wish on the night of the shooting stars #translation #rdg 6

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