lovingbeast

[lovingbeast]

examine! / @infernalpursuit also obligatory: examine guzma.

It's your Guzmania. He stares longingly at you, and you smile at him. It takes so little for him to melt in front of you. He loves you so much, eyes full only of you and your beauty. He considers you nothing but perfect, longes for nothing but your approval, your respect. Your touch. He's taller than you, way stronger than you; but when you're with him, he makes himself small and powerless, does anything you want just to get a crumble of your unending love.

As he should.

You sit on his lap, surround his shoulders with your arms. He lives only for you right now. You love that. Love how well he follows instructions. Love how easily you can convince him to do anything. It matters little that you've never felt sexual attraction in your life - you understand it, and that's all it takes to take advantage of the desires of a mind so simple. You bend your arms, make the hug just a little tighter, your heads now so close you can feel his ragged breath. He wants you. He needs you. Good boy.

He may deserve his reward, this time.

[lovingbeast]

examine! / @infernalpursuit examine: an old family photo.

It's an old, dusty family photo - not the one you keep on your desk for your reputation of a loving mother, but one of yours, stuffed in the back of one of the lower drawers, likely by mistake. It got through your fingers as you were looking for a pen, and now you find yourself staring emotionless at it.

You, Lillie and Gladion are immortalized as you're having a picnic in the park. If you looked closely, you could see all the security guards in the distance, keeping the area secure - because it was never just a Sunday afternoon at the park, not for them. You always wondered what they feared so much to happen. Your eyes linger on your son and daughter for a couple of moments. At the time, they were barely children. They still had the chubby cheeks of newborns and eyes so full of love for you. Gladion is looking somewhere near the camera, but Lillie is looking at you, adoringly. She was still so beautiful at the time.

You don't sigh. You don't let out any sign of missing the good old times - because you don't. You just stretch your hand out, and let the photo fall in the trash can. You've been meaning to get rid of that photo for a long time.

[lovingbeast]

examine! / @plumcriaa examine: nihilego.

It's Nihilego. It's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

The memory lingers in your mind as your eyes stare at the other people in the room with you, a meeting you have no interest in sitting through, but you pretend so expertly that they have all of your attention. You smile at them and nod at their stupid ideas, paying attention just enough so that if they make you a question, you can reply the way they expect you to do. Nihilego's memory is the only thing keeping you from standing up and leaving the room. And it makes you smile. They think it's because they said something smart, and you let them think that.

You remember how majestic it was in the Ultra World, when you followed its invite. How beautiful, in its own house, so happy to show you where it lived. How excited it was, to invite you to become one. You accepted so gladly, as if you were born for that very moment. Its embrace has been so gentle and perfect, your arms in its tentacles - and yes, they had left red marks on your arms, so evident on your pristine skin, but what's so wrong about it? It's a mark of affection, of love - it left you those as you became the most perfect living being in existence. People around you want you to cover them, for your public image. And so you do. But as soon as you're alone, the long sleeves and gloves come off at once, to let you admire once again the gift that was imprinted on your body.

You love Nihilego with all your heart. You have never loved anything or anyone as much.

[lovingbeast]

@vitrumbra taro rather quickly pulls their glove back up over their arm, covering any of the black-purple crystals that might have been visible. they let out a little laugh and look around. " sorry, sorry, i was um. i was just going to catch up with the tour. had to check something. " ( BITES. HOPE THIS WORKS!!!!!! )

The crystals are just a hint, quickly covered by the glove being pulled up - but it's more than enough to completely catch Lusamine’s attention. The kid has been interesting since the very first moment, though she wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly the reason why; but now, as they stayed behind and she reached them to point at the direction the Aether Paradise tour has been taking, with the doubt that they might have genuinely lost track of the group, she's greeted with… this.

Oh… That’s so interesting. What a nice little surprise.

« Oh! You don't have to worry, young one! ». Any interest or surprise is hidden expertly behind the façade of the motherly president of Aether, not giving even a hint of having seen their arm - if anything, everything in her tells she has seen nothing at all. « This is a very big place, and full of interest. It can be the biggest distraction for a curious person, and you seem to be such, mh? »

One hand lifts elegantly to point at the direction the group has taken, a silent invite to join the rest of the tour, but doesn't force them to move nor go immediately. Instead, hands join behind the back, and she waits for them. « What did you need to check, dearie? » she asks, the most gentle living being on Earth. « Perhaps I can help? »

[lovingbeast]

He barely makes a sound. His voice comes so weak and unsure, a sorry whimper of a small, scared dog. Her small, scared dog. She would have smiled, was her not in front of him. She might later, perhaps, when she’ll be alone, and the small theatre she’s putting up for him will be over - but not now, now she can’t. She’s working.

She feigns a hurt that becomes stronger and stronger as he speaks those difficult and desperate words that almost seem the verbal attempt to push her away, while his body doesn’t respond. Her eyes fill to her command with even more tears, that start scratching her pale cheeks at the rhythm of timid sobs. He names that thing, and she gasps desperately. Despair, because he doesn’t believe her. A situation he must have found himself into so many times before that. She knows exactly what he means, and a trembling hand moves to take an uncertain hold of it, putting it between him and herself - her eyes never leaving Guzma’s. « I…-! I d-didn’t bring it to hurt you, Guzmania…! » she whimpers, just like he did, barely a murmured whisper as one hand reaches timidly for one of his, guides it between them, and the other pushes the Beast Ball in his palm. Gentle enough to seem so weak and fragile - strongly enough for her gesture to seem urgent and desperate. « Watch it! Look at it…! I-it’s broken, can’t you see?! »

She leaves him just enough time to have a look at it, if he will find the courage to do so - if he won’t simply believe her -, before leaving the Beast Ball in his hand as she returns to hold his visage, fingers so trembling to apparently being unable to have a real grasp of anything. Her tears just keep falling, her chest rising and falling quickly as her sobs keep on going, seemingly unable to stop.

« I r-realeased it…! It-it went away…! ». A hiccup. « And I snapped the Ball, so to never be forced to catch anything like that ever again…! I-I wanted to give it to you, t-to show you…! It… it did things to my head, b-but now I’m… I’m free, Guzmania! I-it’s not here anymore, i-it n-never will again…! »

She gets closer. Guzma expected her to, of course -- but her movements still make his security falther. Again he pushes himself back, desperate to keep a distance he knows she'll ignore - she always does -, and again he finds himself holding his breath, tensing up all over again as she reaches him.

Climbs on him.

Touches him.

Slow, so slow, he could move away-- move her away with ease, and yet he fucking sits there, his eyes wide, his mouth half open. His hands closing into fists and clinging on the armrests of his makeshift throne as he realizes they dared to fucking move, linger but an inch away from her hips her body, desperately reminding himeslf that he can't fall for her trap again. That she lied. She's been lying. She's lying now, and she'll lie again tomorrow, and the day after, because he can't do fuckall if not staying there like a Deerling in headlights waiting to get ran over by a goddamn truck everyone in the world saw coming and yet he can't fuCKING MOVE OUT OF THE WAY HE CAN'T MOVE WHY CAN'T HE MOVE WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU GUZMA-

"---no you didn't-!"

His voice comes in a whimper. Guzma returns to breathe after feeling like drowning, and yet the air doesn't come out, scraping on his throat and forcing him to try again, and again, and again, failing at it.

failing at doing something as easy as breathing.

His eyes lower, closing as he tries to FUCKING BREATHE, his nails digging in the armrests hard enough to hurt. She's cold, she's light, she could be thrown out of the way with ease. It would be so fucking easy. And yet she weights like the entire world.

"C-Come on, let's--!" FUCKING CHRIST GUZMA STOP FUCKING STUTTERING "Let's not. Kid. Ourselves.

...ya wouldn't have-- brought that here if ya did-!"

The Beast Ball. Put away, but still there. Too close.

Desperately looking for reasons to not trust her.

[lovingbeast]

anxiously tapping the sign, mun is not muse, mun is not muse, mUN IS NOT MUSE--

[lovingbeast]

He wants her to touch him so bad. She can clearly see it - in that sorry attempt to move back, in that first sentence cut short by her command that he is going to follow, whether he likes it or not. His eyes lower, and hers linger on his neck, tense lines surrounding his Adam’s apple as he swallows with difficulty. Oh, the effort he must have made to keep his head straight… to not lean on her fingers. Her smile is wide and satisfied as he rigidly walks towards the throne - of course, he would look for a way to take his authority back -, and it’s immediately gone the moment he turns to sit, replaced by that same motherly worry that painted her features when she suggested he should sit.

And it turns into sadness, as she pretends how much his words hurt.

It’s her time now to lower her gaze. Her hands, clenched on the chest, slowly lower to rest on her belly, her form seemingly getting smaller and smaller with every passing moment. « I… Yes, I… understand. ». Make this quick? Oh, you don’t want that, Guzmania. I know you better than yourself. « I know you must be angry with me. I-I understand it. I will leave soon. »

Her gaze lifts ever so slowly, as if finding the strength to look back at the other is the most difficult thing she has ever done. Big, needy eyes meet his, and as soon as they do, they well with tears. « I-I’m sorry, I’m— ». She covers her mouth with one hand, and it’s like she can’t hold back anymore. Unsteady steps bring her closer to Guzma once again, slow enough to not scare him, fast enough to make her worry seem real, her desire feel urgent. She stops in front of him, letting but a moment go without words or movements; then, her hand puts the Beast Ball back in the belt, and without a single question, she sits on his legs. Both hands go for his visage, trembling fingertips alighting on his features, now free of the burden that Guzma could consider a good excuse for him not acting against her. The Beast Ball is not here anymore, my Guzmania. You are safe. And I am safe… with you. She hints at a trembling smile through misty eyes, and her voice becomes softer, ever softer.

« Oh… my Guzmania…! » How much can you resist still, mh? « I missed you so much…! »

Guzmania.

His resolution cracks immediately. That name is reserved for a selected few. She wasn't on the list anymore, of course, but who was he to stop her from using it? He begged for her to call him by his name many times years before, after all.

She goes only moving, talking, playing with the Ball that, he's sure, hides inside the deterrent that stops him from moving an inch away from the door. Because that's the reason he doesn't move, right? And she goes on and on, mentioning an attack, her worry, how Aether stopped her from rushing in and help him. The temptation to ask which attack is there, sass desperate to come out just to be pushed back down his throat. Does it matter if she's talking about any in particular? Ghetsis? The Nihilego from months before? Some random punk he beat up last week? No. It doesn't. As far as he knows she just said it randomly, fully expecting him and the Skulls to have ended up in some trouble recently.

She's right, as always.

"…-!"

As Lusamine walks closer, keeps looking at him like that, threatens to touch him, the Skull finally moves: he pushes himself further against the door, realizing he held his breath only when her fingers brush him. Tender, delicate fingers against his rough features, always so out of place.

"Look, I-", he starts, speaking for the sake of ignoring his instinct of leaning into that touch, when she asks him to rest. Orders him to. Loud and clear.

"…"

…of course he'd do as she asked. Lowering his eyes like a beaten dog, Guzma even questions where, exactly, she wants him to sit--

--hey, no. Fuck that. Have some respect, damnit.

If he goes for his throne, it's in the desperate attempt to keep at least a bit of authority. This is his goddamn town, no? Then he should act like it.

"Can… can we make this quick?"

Wow. So much for authority.

[lovingbeast]

⁕ — ghost's pokémon blogroll!

@ecliidse / canon divergent nanu from pokémon sun&moon @tapumana / canon divergent tapus from pokémon sun&moon @lovingbeast / canon divergent lusamine from pokémon sun&moon @heldcosmos / canon divergent rose from pokémon sword&shield @codedparaiso / canon divergent turo from pokémon violet @backstatiion / canon divergent ingo from pokémon legends: arceus @truebeginnings / canon divergent battle legend red

[lovingbeast]

hi, hello. may i be italian on main and throw you an italian song i associated with lusamine and guzma? enjoy. <3 ( translation under the cut! )

mentre tutto scorre ( as everything flows ) - negramaro

talk quickly, and don't think if what you say might hurt why should i pretend to be fragile as you want me? you want to hide in silences granted a thousand times after all, you know you will always convince me that everything flows

use me tear me apart rip my soul away do what you want of me after all, the idea i have about you by now won't change green rabbit with a thousand funny faces

and tell me again how much your wax mask weights after all, you know it will melt as if it's snow under the sun while everything flows

use me tear me apart rip my soul away do what you want of me after all, the idea i have about you by now won't change green rabbit with a thousand funny faces

shoot at me target missed try again, it's a minefield what remains of our past, don't deny it, it's wasted time indelible stains, to cover them is a crime let he who is without sin cast a stone let he who is without sin cast a stone you cast it, because i've done everything wrong

use me tear me apart rip my soul away do what you want of me after all, the idea i have about you by now won't change green rabbit with a thousand funny faces

[lovingbeast]

It's about devotion and obsession. It's ALWAYS about devotion and obsession. And hunger. It's love with teeth.

[lovingbeast]

Ah... there. Perfect. Exactly the reaction she was expecting from him.

Her smile widens, satisfaction masked as false happiness in seeing him. She tilts her head slightly, adoringly, her hands stopping the constant movement of the Beast Ball on the palms. They move near the chest, above a heart that pretends to be beating for him.

« Guzmania. » she murmurs back. Gentle. Loving. « My Guzmania. »

Her hands lower, resting on her lap, always closed around the Beat Ball. She straightens her head as her gaze changes from happiness, to relief, coloured by a tad of worry. « I heard about the attack, Guzmania... Oh, I am so glad to see you and your younglings are okay. I wanted so much to get here before, to check on you... ». Her gaze falls. Sadness. Guilt. All perfectly enacted for her most precious pawn. « ... they wouldn't let me. ». Aether, she means. They're not here to counter.

Her eyes close, a perfectly rehearsed sigh to hold back the tears slides through her lips. When she opens them again, she straightens her position on the throne, sitting neatly on it - slim shoulders close to her, hands on the laps, legs pressed together, making her look small, oh so small on that big battered throne. Her eyes lay on Guzma - full of sadness, of relief, of love. Of yearning.

What he wants. What she knows he can't resist.

« Oh... my Guzmania...! » She stands. Hands close to the chest, she walks closer to the other, slowly, steps ever so gentle on the floor. She stops so close to him to be able to hear his breath, and for a moment, just a moment, she just looks at him with eyes radiating innocence and worry. One hand rises, gets near his visage. Alight, just slightly, on the skin soaked in rain - just a hint of a touch.

« You're so pale... ». Worry. Concern. She tilts her head, and the hand returns on the chest, around the Beast Ball. She takes a single step by his side, eyes not moving from him, a motherly worry painting so perfectly her features. « Take a seat, Guzmania. You need to rest. » Not an invite. Sit down.

She doesn't have to wait long. Guzma enters Po Town in the exact moment she enters his room, surprisingly enough, seemingly in a good mood. A good training session with his bugs, one he didn't have in a while. Now all he needs is some time for himself, rest up a bit, don't think too much about the bullshit of the past few weeks.

It could've been so nice, wouldn't it?

But Guzma is a good boss. The second he steps in he notices how tense his Skulls are-- just a second before a flock of them rush to tell him what's going on, who got in, who was looking for him.

And he gets visibly pale.

"...and ya didn't, like-- stop her?", he asks once or twice, desperate to keep a serious and annoyed mood to reassure his grunts that it's fine, it's fine, nothing to be worried about. Unsure if he'd rather have them say yes or no, for way too many reasons.

Nobody did, of course. Nobody dared. Most try to say they ignored her, some that they considered attacking, a few apologize for not being brave enough to tell her to stuff it -- and he can't blame them.

He would've done the same.

"Okay, yeah--" Guzma keeps on grumbling, barely moving a inch at the time for the amount of young criminals who rush to him as he makes his way through that cursed town, and then inside, and then up the stairs "I'll-"

...he stops. Stares at the umbrella. She's waiting for him.

And that's terrifying.

"...I-I'll deal with this."

Some still try to push past him, to offer themselves as tributes - sacrifices -, finally finding the courage to face the witch who almost destroyed Team Skull, but all they recieve in return is slightly annoyed glances. God, he hopes they're annoyed.

"...and don't stay around, just-"

Another step forward. He grabs the door handle. He freezes.

"...just pretend she's not here. Don't peek. Boss' order."

He takes more time.

"I'll deal with her, okay?", he finally mutters, as gentle as he could. The door opens, he enters, he closes behind it, almost slamming onto it.

--and when he sees her, he freezes again. The feared leader of Team Skull, destruction in human form, sees the pure light she is shining in the darkness of his room, sitting on the throne like the queen he thought her to be.

And she's blinding.

Hell, Guzma barely registers what she has in her hands for the first few seconds, at least until a lightning strikes. Bulu making sure he knows exactly that she's armed, and she knows how to make him shut up and listen.

"...miss prez."

He's not moving. Not yet. Not until she orders him to.

[lovingbeast]

In the pouring rain of a dark Po Town, the pristine white umbrella under which she takes shelter is a contrast hurtful like a stab in the back. Lusamine walks slowly, unhurriedly, heels beating rhythmically on the concrete. An elegant, gentle smile painted on the lips.

She greets everyone, indiscriminately, as if nothing negative ever happened between her and them. A series of motherly « Hello, dear. » and « How have you been? Good, I hope? » jump between the younglings of Team Skull, interspersed by the one question she's interested the most to know an answer to. « Is Guzma home? » So many don't reply, nervous glances between them as they don't know what to do, if to lie or not. Lusamine waits for an answer from them for a couple of seconds, before bowing slightly her head, gentle, tranquil. « Don't worry, dears. » she tells them, a tone so calm and motherly to confuse them even more. « I'll ask someone else. »

And eventually, she finds her reply, in a young girl taken aback by her presence. N-no, miss Prez, he's n-not here... H-he'll be back soon. Her smile widens gently, her hand patting with care her shoulder. « Thank you so much. » she whispers her. « May I ask you another thing, dearie? When he comes back, may you tell him I'm waiting for him in his room? ». The youngling shivers, nods out of confusion and fear, and she smiles lovingly at her. « Thank you. What a dearie. »

She remembers perfectly the Shady House, and where Guzma's room is. She keeps her slow pace as she approaches it, greets other kids as she walks past them, stops in front of the door. Her white umbrella now closed, she rests it beside the door, and enters, leaving it just a tiny bit ajar as she walks past it. And there, she stops for a moment - the gentle mother gone, replaced by cold, analytical eyes. Everything is exactly as she remembers it - perhaps just a few more bumps and signs of destruction here and there. The bed always in the same untidy fashion, the chest in the corner slightly open because too full to be closed entirely; and in front of the far wall, the throne.

... mh. The throne.

She walks to it, always that slow pace as she considers. The throne, yes. A symbol of Guzma's power. A taste of what he is, with its broken pieces and battered armrests. Fingertips alight on those signs, and she slowly turns, and sits on it. Yes. Her, on his throne. Quite a clear message, mh? Gloved arms rest on it as she stares at the door, thinking; then, an amused smile widens on the lips. Yes, she can do more. She leans on one side of the seat, resting her back on one of the armrests; legs rise to rest on the other, crossing on the way up, playful and jaunty and exactly what Guzma needs to see. One last touch, though... she needs one last touch.

Her smile wides. She knows.

Fingers close, gently, lovingly, on the Beast Ball at the belt. She takes it out with the same care one would use to move a porcelain doll, and starts rolling it ever so gently between the palms. Smiling, her gaze returns loving, yearning, as she returns looking at the door.

And waits, patiently, for her Guzmania to enter.

@gnzma told you we were cooking? :)

[lovingbeast]

Send “Examine!” and an item or person and I’ll write an RPG description of it/them.

For example, a stormtrooper mask: “A white mask with a black visor on the front. Putting it on, you realize that the visor isn’t even transparent. How are you expected to do anything competently like this?”

[lovingbeast]

IN LOVE AND WAR, EVERYTHING GOES. a sentence meme based around the subject of allies, enemies, war and enemies to lovers and more of the same tropes we all love. change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit. these are all scrambled around.

“Friends ask you questions; enemies question you.”

“You can live safe and be protected by people just like you, or you can stand up and be a leader for what is right.”

“Where do we find allies?"

“War created bizarre allies, while peace itself could be divisive.”

“I promise you, nothing will happen to you.”

“I choose my allies carefully and my enemies more carefully still.”

“People fight wars over ideas.” 

“Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.”

“I was raised in hatred, Roma. I could never be your lover, only your killer.”

“We were enemies, no matter the truths. No matter that I loved him.”

“He’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.”

“She's not the type to swoon for pretty lies.”

“The feud keeps taking and hurting and killing and still I couldn't stop loving you even when I thought I hated you.”

“These violent delights have violent ends."

“Men without morals are dangerous beasts.”

“The spiteful, little stars.”

“Death is real. Death is inevitable. Death comes when you're not ready for it. Be ready.”

“I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You took things from me. My soul―my heart.”

“You’re supposed to keep your enemies close. Therefore, it stands to reason that your sworn enemy should be kept closest.”

“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me.”

“Can’t even get out of my grasp? Or is it because you secretly don’t want to?”

“Why are you confessing all of your crimes?”Are you trying to get hit?”

“You're a hero and I'm a monster. There's only one way that story ever ends.”

"Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind."

"How--how can you even say such things,on an evening you are meant to choose another as your bride?"

"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."

"I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”

“The road for hell for me is paved with everything I would do for you, and that list never ends.”

“You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you."

“You have no idea what I could give you."

“If you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.”

“I see you truly for everything you are and everything you will be and I claim you as mine.”

“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you."

“Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”

“A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.”

"We're on opposite sides, you know."

"You're the one claiming we're all villains. There's no black or white, only gray area. We can coexist somewhere in the middle, can't we?”

“A man with no enemies is a man with no character.”

“I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.”

“I like your savage brutality."

"That's a poetic observation, coming from such a savage creature.”

"And you are mine, Victor Nox. whether you agree is irrelevant.”

“Bitter people are not interested in what you say, but what you hide.”

“Enemies can't break your spirit, only friends can.”

“In order to know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”

“Such a pretty face, but so weak and emotional. Just a regular man, after all.”

[lovingbeast]

a low activity, 18+ canon divergent lusamine from pokémon sun & moon. as told by ghost / harbour, 29 y/o, italian, any pronouns. sideblog of ghostories.

this blog will contain triggering content, such as manipulation and gaslighting, child neglect, and general dark topics that the more i write the more i'll certainly add to this list. reader discretion is adviced.

rules / info coming soon art credits — megumi mizutani

[lovingbeast]

rules. ( i don't require a password, but please do throw an eye at them! )

i. mun & activity. hello! i go by ghost, 29 years old, any pronouns. i'm italian, and english is my second language, hence you might see mistakes or weird phrases in my turns! i can get pretty busy and lately i worked to take the habit of staying as little as possible at the computer, which means that sometimes i can't get to it for days or even weeks. because of this, this blog, as all my blogs are, is permanent low activity! it might take a while for me to reply, but eventually always will! this blog is a sideblog of ghostories!

ii. no follow back. i know how weird it might sound, but for personal reasons i'd rather avoid following back pokémon blogs. to roleplay with you i don't require us to be mutuals, and i won't force you to make an exception for me if you're mutuals only, but have this heads up! if i don't follow you back it's not a sign i don't want to roleplay with you, i just prefer to avoid it. do feel free to send in anything you like even if you don't see me in your followers list!

iii. adult content and tagging system. due to my interpretation of lusamine, mature themes will be present very often. because of this, this blog is 18+. everytime a trigger appears in my turns, i will tag it with the name of the trigger, followed by "//" - for example, blood //. if i forget or don't think about tagging something, never hesitate to tell me!

iv. shipping, suggestive and smut. romance with lusamine will be a hard no: any romantic relationship she might start will be toxic and full of manipulation and gaslighting. these kind of releationships i will write only with the people i trust the most; she's not the right person to have a nice and gentle love story with. smut makes me extremely uncomfortable so i will avoid it altogether.

v. starting threads and prompts lists. anything works for me to start a thread - prompts from lists or original ones, or plotting, anything! i just really enjoy writing, and love receiving things that give me new excuses to write even more. send anything anytime you like! i do my best to send often prompts as well, but i might always be a little late for prompts lists or for particular events for the aforementioned low activity. if you want to reblog a prompt list i reblogged, please go to the source and don’t reblog directly from me, unless the source itself is broken.

vi. dropping threads. if you don’t feel inspired anymore for a thread of ours, don’t be afraid to drop it! no need to tell me, and i promise i won’t get mad, it’s alright! due to my constant low activity, i know inspiration can simply disappear after a while. don’t be afraid to drop it and move on - we can always start something new!

vii. mun's drawings. i like to draw little things that might involve my muses as much as my writing partners’, and sometimes i like to post them. if the drawing is posted on the rp blog and i specify that only certain people can reblog, please do not reblog them unless you have permission. if i post them here instead than my art blog, it is because i’d rather keep them in a smaller circle.

viii. muses' thoughts. mun =/= muse! what she does or think is not necessarily what i would do or think. don’t compare me to her, for the love of everything she's HORRIBLE.

ix. fixing and rewriting turns. if you can’t understand something i wrote, don’t be afraid to ask me for clarifications! as aforementioned, english is my second language: while i do my best, mistakes might not be that uncommon in my turns. furthermore, i might misunderstand your turn as well - if it happens, or if more in general i need to change anything in my turn for any reason ( be it also that i might have written you into a corner or you don’t know how to continue! ), don’t hesitate to tell me! i have no problems at all in fixing my turns, or even rewrite them entirely if necessary!

x. turns length. i tend to write A LOT, especially when i’m very inspired by a thread. please remember, you don’t need to match my length in your reply! don’t feel pressured to write more than you wish, write as much as you want.