#fun fact: this is loosely based on one of my college dorm experiences | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moongoddessmox · 3 years

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Hi so I have an ask for your 2.1k celebration, congrats again btw!!

So it’s a little weird, but essentially match the character with a trope and if you’re feeling it, provide a little blurb/explanation as to why you paired them:

FWB!Bucky, DBF!Bucky, Rockstar!Bucky, College!Bucky & Ex!Bucky

Fake dating, only one bed, forced proximity, love triangle & enemies to lovers

BESTIE I LOVE THIS HOLY SHITTTT THANK YOUUUU

Fun fact: DBF!Bucky is based on my actual experience and one of the first few college parties I ever went to. Minus the hot dad's best friend. I just had to wait it out until I could drive myself back to my dorm lmao

2.1k and Valentine's Celebration

18+ UNDER THE CUT

FWB!Bucky / Love Triangle

A love triangle with FWB!Bucky would start out innocent. You were only friends with benefits anyway. It had started out as two friends just wanting to blow off steam, a slightly intoxicated night after a party where you ran into your exes. You were frustrated and lonely, using each other to feel better and forget about the events earlier in the night. Bucky was always there for you and god, the stories you heard about him in bed, you were eager to find out for yourself. You didn’t expect to fall in love with him, you didn’t expect to become so desperate for his fingers, cold metal fucking you until you came harder than you could even make yourself cum. You couldn’t help but love the way he smiled at you, his blue eyes so soft but could turn so dark with lust in a matter of seconds. You wanted him all to yourself, but that’s not what he wanted, or at least you thought. But he had started seeing this other woman, Natasha or something. You didn’t want to hear about her, you didn’t want to think about Bucky fucking another woman, pleasuring her the way he pleasured you. Bucky couldn’t help it, he was stuck between two beautiful people he had admittedly fallen head over heels for. You hated it, hated being in competition with someone else but you weren’t official so you just had to take it. Or take him.

DBF!Bucky / Forced Proximity

Fuck. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be in these shorts. This tank top. So much skin, so little clothing. You were sitting on the soggy frat couch in a house jam-packed with college kids. A few minutes ago you had watched your friends, and I say that loosely, walk out with a group they knew better, leaving you alone and drunk at this party. You didn’t know anyone else here and you couldn’t leave because you were too drunk to drive. You had texted the only person who wouldn’t tell your dad about the night’s events, and that just happened to be his best friend Bucky. You heard your name called over the yelling of frat guys playing beer pong, the bass of No Hands by Waka Flocka Flame, and cheering of girls dancing on the table. It wasn’t even really a table, it was a few wooden pallets stacked to make a tall surface. Next to it was a “bunk couch”, two couches with one above the other on a makeshift platform. You looked up to see Bucky pushing his way through the crowd until he saw you, taking you outside to his truck which he had already hooked your car onto to tow it back to your house. Being in his car with him was nerve-wracking. You had a crush on him forever and now you were a little drunk and feeling a little slutty. You would see the way he looked at you, swimming in your backyard, tiny little bikini, summer vacations with his family and yours. Now he had you all to himself, looking beautiful as ever and in need of a way to say thank you. His closeness made your breathing hitch, it was a long 30-minute drive back to your parent's house and he loved how close he could have you, no one to interrupt, just the two of you in his pickup. His hand wandering your bare thigh as you squeezed your legs shut to calm the throb you felt under his touch.

Rockstar!Bucky / Fake Dating

It was supposed to be a PR stunt. “Promotion for the new song” your agent had told you. You’d pretend to date Bucky for a few months while the song charted and then break up and write a song about it to hit the charts again. Bucky was a wild party animal, drugs, booze, sex. It was what he was known for, but you had a different lifestyle. Sure you’d attend a good party, but drugs weren’t your thing, besides the occasional joint. But you couldn’t deny how he made you feel when you went on tour together, the fun you had with him, carrying you around on stage after a performance, easing you into trying shrooms for the first time and being protective and nice about it. He was thoughtful when the walls came down, the wild exterior of a rockstar was just a fraction of who he was and you couldn’t help but fall in love with every part of him. But he was only your fake boyfriend, would he even want to be yours for real?

College!Bucky / Only One Bed

Leave it to Bucky to screw up the spring break plans. Of course he didn’t read the listing that said “one king bed”, he saw the price and picked it. You were surprised you were even in the right state. It was bittersweet though, because luckily you had the biggest crush on your best friend from the moment he walked into class, but unfortunately, you didn’t know if he liked you. Surely not. But sharing a bed with him seemed like the perfect situation to find yourselves exploring the sexual tension. And you did. Multiple times.

Ex!Bucky / Enemies to Lovers

Of course, you had to do this mission with Bucky. You had spent two years together happily dating, it was a dream come true until he up and left one day and disappeared for a full year. Only to be brought back by Steve and Sam, they said they found him in Bucharest and he needed time to adjust. But you hated his guts, hated how he could just leave you like that. You spent the next few months constantly fighting, refusing to work together, and screwing up missions because you couldn’t get along. You had no idea why Fury was sending you out on this mission together, alone. But it wasn’t optional and it wasn’t one that could be fucked up. You tried to be as civil as possible, keeping the knock-down-drag-out arguments to simple bickering like an old couple. But when he missed his mark because he was distracted by you, you couldn’t help the fury that bubbled inside you. You pulled him aside, screaming his head off as he rolled his eyes, arguing back about how you shouldn’t have worn such a nice dress. He was letting his lust ruin the mission?! It only made you angrier, that is until he crashed his lips to yours and made you forget about the entire thing. The passionately furious sex was exactly what the two of you needed to finally get along. Pent-up sexual frustration being released in the closet of the grand ball. Needless to say, the two of you got along much better after that mission.

#mox mail #mox2.1k #bucky barnes #sebastian stan

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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

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Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels

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promptmaker · 4 years

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Cloti Smut Prompts Part 2!

This is the second half of my Cloti smut prompt list. The first part of the list can be found HERE. All Prompts came from my Fantasy Cafe Prompt list found HERE. If you are interested in any of the below prompts let me know and I will put pending by them if you wish. Crossed off prompts have been written.

29. Please, I need the distraction. (Modern AU) Cloud comes to visit Tifa at her college. She was supposed to meet him at the front but she is not there. After no replies from texting her he decides to go straight to her dorm room. Using his own key for the room he enters and finds her studying intently with her headphones on. Tifa doesn't notice he is there. Sometimes she gets so focused that she loses all track of her surroundings. Rolling his eyes but smiling at her intense focus, he notices her tense shoulders and tight grip on her pencil. Knowing she has been overworking herself again, Cloud comes over and puts his hands on her shoulders. She jumps at first but relaxes once she sees it’s him. He continues to rub her shoulders as she tells him what she’s been working on. He tells her she needs a break and urges her away from the school work. She reluctantly agrees and gets up to stretch. Cloud takes in her casual wear, taking note she is wearing one of his shirts. Noticing him staring she teases him and he teases her back, offering her another way to decompress from studying. She likes the sound of that and pushes him onto her bed for some fun. (optional: Her roommate gets an eyeful when she barges in)

3. I can't believe we haven’t tried that before! (I can’t believe that worked!) - Full DISCLAIMER: I have never been to New Orleans or Mardi Gras and am aware that this is a sensationalized version of it. (Modern AU) Fresh off of a bad break up, Tifa’s friends, Jessie and Aerith, decide she needs to get out and cut loose. New Orleans is a short drive away and it just happens to be time for Mardi Gras. Tifa has never been so her friends are excited to show her the sights. Tifa is reluctant to get into the festivities at first, but booze and good friends really help her to cut loose so she decides to enjoy herself and have fun. A couple days in Tifa and Co. are bar hopping. They are a bit tipsy and her friends decide they want to collect the beaded necklaces that are thrown to tourists. For souvenirs of their trip. The easiest way to get them is by flashing (according to her friends anyway), but Tifa has been reluctant to try that. That is until they come across a local named Cloud who is handing out the necklaces they are looking for. Tifa is instantly attracted to him and in a drunken sper of the moment impulse, flashes him. Cloud is taken aback but is bemused by her but gives her the beads. Seeing her starting to get embarrassed at what she did, Cloud decides she is cute and offers to show her around. Tifa’s friends practically shove her at him and tell her to have fun (but to check in from time to time). Tifa sobers up a bit and the two have a good time exploring the city. When it gets late, they head to Clouds place where he offers to sleep on the couch. Remembering the purpose of this trip, Tifa tells him that that’s not necessary and the sexual tension building between them all night explodes as she leads him to bed with her. (PENDING)

4. What if they hear us? (Modern AU) Sick of neither of them making a move on each other, Cloud and Tifa’s friends conspire to get them together. The friends get the two to take time off and a pay to send them to a spa, not telling them that they signed them up for a couples massage. Since it's already been paid for, Tifa and Cloud decide to go along with it. They spend the day there together getting massages together before ending up in a sauna, where they finally decide to make a move.

5. Where did you have that hidden? (Game or Modern AU) Tifa and Cloud are really into role play. Lately a game they like to play involves “interrogation”. For this game, Tifa is an AVALANCHE soldier restrained to a chair and being interrogated by Cloud playing a turk and dressed like Rude. Cloud will “integrate” her until she gives the safe word. (Logarithmic Base 2 Ch.1)

Tifa is the Turk interrogator and she is dressed as Reno. With an open shirt and goggles. Cloud is the AVALANCHE soldier but on a leash instead of restrained. Tifa leads him around the house and uses toys pulled from her cleavage to get the info she needs.

9. Looks bigger up close. (Modern AU) Tifa and Cloud first met in a chat room online where they became friends. After months of chatting online, they decide to give online dating a chance. Once a week they have a date through video chat and sometimes those chats lead to webcam sex. But now one of them is moving closer to the other so now real dates can happen. When the time comes to actually be physically intimate, they find that the real deal is WAY better.

10. Describe it to me. (Post-Game) While out on a delivery, Cloud is blind sided by bandits. One of them manages to hit him with a Blinding spell. Cloud of course manages to fight them off but his vision is fading due to the spell and he has no more Recovery items on him. He manages to walk his bike the rest of the way to Edge and someone escorts him home. There Tifa gives him Elixir but it will take time to take effect. So Tifa takes care of him until then. Runs him a bath and hops in with him to help him wash. Afterward Tifa gets him to bed and they attempt to go to sleep but Cloud is restless after the day’s events. So Tifa gets the idea to help him wear himself out. She will help him masturbate by describing things they have done and could do together. (She gives him JOI basically)

12. I missed your taste (Modern AU) Tifa is a Succubus (decked out in leather) and replenishes her life force through sexual activity. Lately she has found someone that she greatly enjoys replenishing it with, a man named Cloud. Unlike most men, Cloud is able to handle her and gives as good as he gets. One night, when she is in need of an energy boost, searches for Cloud and finds him relaxing on his rooftop apartment. When she greets him and asks if he is up for some fun he teasingly plays hard to get. Tifa takes it as a challenge and goes into full seductive mode and he quickly gives in.

23. I didn’t think that would get such a reaction out of you (Modern or game AU) Tifa works at a bunny club (a honey bee inn type place) as a bartender, server, and manager. The standard attire is a sexy bunny outfit (or whatever animal the writer prefers) and Cloud also works there as a bouncer. Due to her attire, she gets hit on a lot but it goes with the job and the tips are worth it. It also helps that Cloud keeps a watchful eye on her throughout her shift. Whenever a customer gets too bold with her Tifa usually likes to think of a time when her and Cloud have fucked right where the rude customer is sitting. Since Tifa is the one that closes, her and Cloud have the run of the place when its empty. Tifa also finds that although he is a professional, Cloud has a jealous streak. The more Tifa flirts or gets hit on, the more he gives it to her after hours. Tifa’s favorite time to rile him up is on Fridays when they switch out the bunny outfits for lingerie. The more daring the outfit the better because all the extra attention is worth it just to see Cloud’s reaction when he sees her and for what he does with her after hours.

16. I see you found my message (Modern AU). Cloud is smitten with a cute “Coffee Shop” worker named Tifa he meets in Amsterdam. To shy to talk to her, he writes down everything thinks about her in his notebook. (Logarithmic Base Ch.2)

19. You want to do what! (Modern or post game AU) Cloud and Tifa are on their honeymoon to Costa de Sol. They are staying at the resort there and are enjoying all it has to offer. One evening, while walking along the beach, they come to a blocked off section of it that was not advertised. That section is a nude beach. They give it a curious glance but don’t see anybody there. So they turn and continue their walk. But Tifa keeps thinking about it. She thinks of her friends who tease her for not being too shy to try anything daring and she thinks about how its just her and Cloud there so know one home would know. So that night in their room she suggested to Cloud that they should visit the nude beach at some point in their trip. He is not a fan of the idea at first but she tells him it could be a fun experience to reminisce about in the future and that it would be their little secret. Cloud relents and they go the next day. They get to the nude beach, still in their swimsuits but they gradually ease into it. Once they get used to the fact that no one cares, Tifa takes the plunge and strips down first before jumping into the ocean. Cloud as always, follows after her. They enjoy the rest of their day there. Cloud notices some glances their way but doesn't care. They only have eyes for each other. Tifa decides she should reward Cloud for being a good sport (a cause she wants to) by sneaking off with him to a nearby alcove or empty lifeguard shack for some intimate fun.

21. Quick, while the kids are asleep! (Game AU) It has been a month since the last time Tifa and Cloud have had sex, though not for lack of trying. Between moving into a bigger place and with school done for the summer, the kids are around a lot more now, and are constantly interrupting any intimate moments. But now is their chance. After a long day of moving furniture and setting up rooms in their new place, the kids are now tuckered out and in bed while Tifa and Cloud are enjoying the peace and quiet in their new backyard. They relax in lawn chairs by the fire pit until they make the startling discovery that there are now kids in sight and they are suddenly now full of energy. Tifa jumps Cloud in his lawn chair and a month’s worth of repressed sexual energy comes out at once. They do it with most of their clothes still on and the chair is destroyed but in the end, it is worth it. (The gravity of falling stars)

22. Are those my boxers? (Post Game) After the bar closes for the night, Tifa and Cloud have drinks and play cards together as they do every night. Getting tipsy, Tifa ponders whatever happened to Cloud’s dress that he wore to Corneo’s years ago. Cloud (lies) tells her it has long been destroyed. Tifa calls him on his bullshit and asks him what it would take for him to wear it again. Cloud drunkenly suggests she wear some of his clothes (A secret kink of his) and he’ll wear whatever she wants. They laugh it off and to bed. The next night, they continue their ritual of drinks but Tifa tells Cloud she is going to get some of the good stuff from storage and disappears. When she returns, she is dressed in Cloud’s clothes (the ones from remake or whatever the writer wants). She asks him if he likes her outfit and he decides he loves the sight of her in his clothes and tells her as such. She pulls out the drinks and a deck of cards and asks him if he wants to see her out of them, So a game of strip poker commences. Who wins and how far they go is up to the writer but in the end they toss the cards aside and go at it in what little clothes they have left. When they finish Tifa once again asks Cloud where his dress is. He smirks at her and tells her he’ll get it out of storage.

24. I am loving this new piercing (Modern AU) Cloud works in the video store or comic shop at the local mall. For the past few months he has been pining for the Tattoo artist, Tifa, in the shop across from his. He loves to watch her work when days are slow but hasn’t had the courage to talk to her. Between her clients, the heavy metal always playing, and having several tattoos herself, Cloud thinks he would be too overwhelmed to say anything if he did visit. His coworker Zack reminds him that they are both getting tattoos there soon, so he will have to talk to her eventually. Days later, Cloud and Zack are now at the tattoo parlor to get their new tattoos. This will be Cloud's first one. He finally meets Tifa and she is way sweeter than he expected, while he gets his tattoo, he is still too nervous to talk much but he wants to say something so he blurts the first thing he can think of, that he likes her new navel piercing. Tifa ponders out loud how he knows it was new when they have just met, Cloud about has a meltdown but Tifa just laughs it off and tells him she was teasing and that she knows he works just across the way from her. This wins him over and they become fast friends. Now he stops by her shop whenever he can to visit or to get a new tattoo or piercing. Tifa loves to tease him when she can too, whether it's giving him a look down her top as she gives him a new tattoo or lifting her skirt just enough to show him her thigh tattoo, his reactions are always worth it. One night, as the mall closes, Cloud heads over to Tifa’s shop and helps her close up since her co-worker left early. As he helps out, Cloud makes note of Tifa’s back tattoo and asks her what it is (since the shirt covers most of it). As a reward for helping her out she tells him she’ll show him and takes him to the back room of her shop. She faces away from him and takes her top off, expecting him to be shy about it but when she looks back she sees a heated look on his face. This gets her going too as she asks if he wants a closer look and the two go at it (possibly on a spare tattoo chair). She is pleasantly surprised to learn he is not nearly as shy during sex and is happy to let him take the reins as he blows her mind. (Optional: She shows of her new tongue piercing too) (PENDING)

26. You know me to well (Modern AU) Tifa needs repairs done on her motorcycle, so she takes it into her favorite auto shop to be looked at by her favorite mechanic, Cloud. The two of them have been seeing each other in secret and have been trying to keep their relationship hidden from their group of friends. Cloud lets her go back into the garage with him as he works on the bike since he is the only one there at the moment. Tifa chats with him and checks out all the other bike/cars in the shop. Cloud takes a break from fixing her bike to show her a new model that has come in. Cloud shows it off and the sight of him with that motorcycle is a huge turn on for Tifa. To the point where she can’t take it anymore, Tifa makes sure his co worker Zack will be out on his lunch break for a while longer (they’ll never hear the end of it if he finds them). Cloud, noticing the state she is in, asks if she wants a “ride” on the new bike. Tifa is hesitant to defile such a nice bike so early so Cloud suggests Zack’s car that is in the shop at well. Tifa thinks thats acceptable and takes him over to go at it right on the hood. (Perhaps leaving grease/oil stains for Zack to find later)

27. I wanna try something from this book (Game or modern AU) Cloud has discovered Tifa’s hidden horde of trashy romance novels. He teases her about them at first but oddly finds some of them informative after looking through them. Never being that adventurous in the bedroom before, Cloud asks Tifa if they can try some of the things they do in the books. Tifa is more than willing to try anything with him. The books inspire them to try new positions and role-play. Their first attempts at role-play are cheesy and awkward but they get the hang of it and have fun. But now they are much better at it. Now they are trying out a scene from one of her books that they have been practicing for a while and even have props for it. What kind of scene is up to the writer but here is an example: Tifa and Cloud role play from a fantasy romance novel where a monster huntress falls for a werewolf and they have a secret rendezvous. Tifa is decked out in a corset “hunting” garb while Cloud has fake teeth and ears of a wolf. It's the first time he sees her in that get-up so he doesn’t even need to pretend to be ravenous for her. Tifa thinks the ears are cute and the teeth are hot. They play out the scene of a forbidden rendezvous where they both like it rough. When the scene is finished, they have a good laugh about their performance and head for the showers.

#Cloti #cloti smut #cloud #tifa #smut #prompts #smut prompts #au

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marvelsviking · 7 years

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Ain’t It Fun

Steve x Reader (Fluff) College AU Word Count: 1,536 A/N: This fic is for @caplansteverogers Song Fic Challenge. I fucking love this song and the minute I saw this on her list, I thought of Steve. I thought it was appropriate to set this in college because this is loosely based on a personal experience with someone in one of my classes. Hope you guys enjoy this!

College has been an absolute nightmare to Steve since he first arrived. He had gotten in on a full scholarship due to his outstanding grades. He had thought that high school had prepared him for college, for the real word. Everything would go smoothly for him and he would give his fellow students a run for their money.

But man, was he wrong. Currently, he was swamped with homework and was to his surprise, failing all 8 of his classes. He thought he could do it, it hadn't been too hard to balance 8 classes in high school, but college was a whole different ballpark and he wasn't sure how he would survive the rest of the semester.

You're not the big fish in the pond no more You are what they're feeding on

Steve found out that he wasn't the only person that had this dilemma. The college was filled with smartasses like him who thought that they were going to be the hot shit students. But there was one person who fascinated and irritated him to no end.

His roommate.

Steve had managed to snag a role as a Residence Assistant in his co-ed dorm and shared a room with his one of his RA's that lived on the same floor as him. Since they were RAs, their dorm room was massive and their rooms were separated by a living room and kitchenette so neither felt like their privacy was ever invaded on, but they still saw each other enough to pick up on the temperament of the other.

At first, Steve thought she was just a lazy, irresponsible, know-it-all. Both of their schedules started at 7am, as their first class started around 8am, Steve's classes ended at 4pm and by time he got back to the dorm, ready to do homework, she was already there on the couch, dressed in her hoodie and shorts, eating ice cream and watching the latest Netflix show. Steve assumed that she skipped the rest of her classes and due to her being home so early and to the fact that he never saw her do a single piece of homework or do an ounce of studying. Every now and then when Steve would stress over homework in the living room, she would pop up behind him and begin to correct his work by leaning over his shoulder. Like she was doing now.

"Conjunction word. Right there" Her chest pressed against his shoulder as she leaned down and pointed at the 'won't' typed on his screen as he was constructing his 10-page essay. "Your professor is going to take off points for that."

"How do you know?" Steve snapped his head towards her with a scowl sported on his face. "What the fuck would you know about writing an English paper, huh?"

"I'm an English Major, I think I know how to write a paper." Her brow furrowed and that only angered Steve. He stood up and looked down at her, the couch creating a space between them.

He crossed his arms over his chest and stood his ground. "Oh, so you think that just because you’re an English Major that you can skip class and not do any work?!"

"Okay! What the hell are you talking about?! I do my work! Don't get mad at me because you thought taking 8 classes was a good idea! And in your freshman year no less!" She yelled back, her fist clenched at her sides.

"I thought I could handle it okay?! I-"

"You thought you were prepared? You thought that you could walk in here and easily get the spot as Top Student because you were in high school?"

"W-well, yeah. You're right." His anger was short-lived when his arms slowly fell to his sides and a deep breath fell from his nose.

"And now you're all stressed out because you're alone in the real world. Right, Stevie?" She spoke mockingly and Steve didn’t have anything to come back at her with. She was right, he thought that he could run things here like he did before in high school. But he was wrong.

Silence stood between them for a while as Steve's focus was on the ground below him, avoiding her gaze. Then finally, she broke it.

"And for your information, I do my homework. I'm just more comfortable doing it in my room. And I only have 4 classes. So, when you don't see me for hours on the weekend, I'm in there, busting my ass off." She pointed to her room and Steve felt overwhelmed with guilt.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have judged you like that." "Apology accepted, I guess. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm making ramen. You want some? You look like you could deserve a break." She turned on her heels and started toward the kitchenette.

"Thanks, but I really gotta finish this paper. It's-" "Steve. If you don’t get your ass in here, I'm dragging you in by your ears." "Yes, ma'am." He gave in and followed her, helping her make the ramen. When the ramen was done, they sat down at the dining table and mostly ate in silence. But Steve had so many questions boiling inside him that they just had to burst out.

"Four classes?" She was in mid-slurp when he spoke. She looked up at him with a raised brow and noodles hanging from her mouth. Steve had to stop himself from laughing at how cute she looked in that moment.

She slurped the remaining noodles and covered her mouth as she spoke and chewed.

"Yeah, didn’t wanna overwork myself. You know, between school and work."

Steve slightly choked on his ramen in surprise, and she quickly leaned over and hit his back as he coughed up noodles.

"Shit, are you okay?" She giggled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you? You have a fucking job while you're in college?!" He finally said when his coughs calmed down.

"Yeah? I gotta make money somehow. A lot of things are fun, but being broke isn't." She sat down close to him and brought her bowl with her. "What about your parents? Don’t they send you money?" Steve couldn't believe how busy the woman in front of him was. He thought he was the busy one, but she brought a whole new meaning to the term.

"Oh. My. God, are you a trust fund kid?!" She leaned forward, her face struck with amusement.

"No! My mom just takes good care of me is all." He leaned back a bit as her closeness took him by surprise. "Oh, you’re a mama's boy then?" She smirked.

"No! She just helps me out when I need it." Steve turned away from her and continued eating. You had continued eating as well, and Steve thought that was the end. But once again, he was wrong. "So, what? Does she also come here and do your laundry for you too?" "...Sometimes." He murmured into his bowl as he had finished his noodles and started to drink the broth.

"Hey, I'm not shaming you or your mother's love. It’s just that, college is, well for me at least, supposed to be about doing your own thing and getting a taste of freedom, ya know?" She finished the last of her noodles and pushed her bowl away from her.

"I get what you're saying." He set his bowl down and directed his body to face her again. "But that doesn't mean that you're on your own, Y/N."

"You are on your own in the real world, Stevie. I mean, sure, I could call up my mom right now and cry to her about how stressed I feel. Hell, you can too. Doesn't change anything, cause the stress is still there." She shrugged.

"Then what do you do? What do you do when you’re so stressed out that you feel like your life is over?" Steve leaned in closer to her subconsciously.

"I remind myself that it's not. I mean, think about it" She moved her hands on the table as she spoke. For some reason, Steve thought it was fucking adorable how animated she was with her hands as she talked. He wondered how he didn’t notice it sooner.

"After college, you're free to do what you want. You can either go straight into a job if you're lucky, take a break and do your passion, whatever. If I hang on to that freedom, the stress doesn't get to me as much." She laid her hands flat on the table and stood up, taking her bowls with her to the sink, washing them.

Steve followed her and gently pushed her aside so he could take over for her. She muttered 'thanks' and he smiled at her.

"Well, maybe you could help me function in the real world?" Steve joked and she let out a slight chuckle.

"Maybe. Goodnight, Steve. It's been fun." She leaned up on her tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek, and walked out the kitchenette towards her room. She smiled at him as she closed her door and Steve brought his hand up to his cheek. He could feel his face burning up and his stomach flipping.

"Goodnight."

Tags: @caplansteverogers @blackcaptainrogers @avengersandlovers @erisjade @a-splash-of-stucky

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers fluff #captain amercia fluff

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dolgelo · 7 years

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DOLGELO’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET!

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: Clio/Mary/realisnametoolong OOC Contact: direct messages here are always a bit problematic because the site and app don’t always notify me of new one, dis.cord only for mutuals - i’ll probably make a drop soon

Who the heck is my muse anyway:

Mitsuru Kirijo is one of the main and playable characters of the series Persona, in particular, P3, where she makes her first debut. Born into a wealthy family well-known around Japan and beyond, she is the only heiress of the company, based on economy and electronics, named the Kirijo Group. After undergoing various experiments during childhood from a secret branch of said company, all about cognitive science, she awakened to her other self or Persona to protect her father and kept doing that ever since. She, together with other users chosen in the high school of the city, creates the battling group SEES, whose hideout is Iwatodai dorm, and she makes of fighting shadows her true and ultimate goal, in order to eliminate their nest, the Tower of Tartarus, and the Dark Hour, the hidden time in which Shadows hunt down common people, making them victim of what the public knows as Apathy Syndrome.

Points of interest:

1) Her strong devotion towards her goal and the figure of her Father, that she adores and defends, is also her greatest weakness. The girl’s demeanor might seem icy, perfect and basically untouchable and gracious in its entirety, but in reality, Mitsuru happens to be a very fragile person, with phobias, fears and a great predisposition to telling countless lies to her companions and dormmates. Although she has no ill reasons to behave that way, Mitsuru does not feel like sharing that burden she always carried with anyone else and thus, avoids to tell everyone about the truth, just like the incident of the lab of the Group that did cause the Dark Hour to exist in the first place. This side of her personality, that unfortunately gets the best of her almost until the very end, also makes the girl also unable to ask for anyone’s help, in a direct way. It often results in pretty uncomfortable situations and the inevitable awkwardness of finally having to tell the truth, or speak of her own feelings - something she doesn’t like doing, at all. She’s not perfect at all.

2) Being educated to a certain etiquette, Mitsuru is shown as a lady-like beauty, with interest in reading, logic-based activities, having tea while reading a book and fleuret competitions. It all has to do with her upbringing that, although strictly sheltered and protective during the first years - given she had to succeed her father one day as CEO of the corporation, through marriage - educated her to delicate and elegant manners since forever. She is never vulgar and has a particular soft spot for refined food and sweets. Despite this, however, Mitsuru has always shown another, wilder side of her personality, especially when it came to education: from climbing up trees and escaping the cares of maids when being just a little child, to desiring to avoid rules, arranged marriage and judgment of old men deciding of her life and body by running away on her motorcycle, somewhere far where to just be herself. Or also enjoying junk food and breaking some rules, from time to time.

3) Although not having had the chance to grow up together with her mother, because of the woman’s degenerative and odd illness that forced her outside of the house and Mitsuru’s life, the girl is extremely caring towards youngsters and people in need. She’s extremely motherly and protective towards them, showing a delicacy and gentleness that collide so much with everyone’s ideas of the icy queen of execution reputation she might have. If she punishes, she does that to make one’s think and realize their mistakes - she’s not evil and will always want the best for her friends and youngest people. It also piles up the fact she’s extremely naive too; she won’t recognize bad people until they betray her trust. Only then, she’d have no mercy of them.

What they’ve been up to recently:

Mitsuru has been elected president of the student council of the private school of Gekkoukan. Valedictorian and brilliant in the role of captain of the fencing club, she is the daughter, only heiress, of the group actually founding the school - from elementary classes to the last ones of a teenager’s academic career. She is also founder of the secret SEES, a club disguised as a mere afterschool students organization that, in reality, is linked to the supernatural; for Mitsuru, and all the other younger members of this Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad, there’s a mission to be finally resolved: the elimination of the Dark hour, the hidden hour that after midnight, every day, turns normal people into coffins and lets Shadows loose - creatures capable of attacking people, causing even Apathy syndrome to spread around. Given the role to Arisato, the transfer student with the Power of the Wild Card, she takes the job of a secondary member - together with her Persona; first Penthesilea, then Artemisia. She acts as a sort of mother, inside of the dorm; caring but firm, Mitsuru

In her successive timeline, that takes place a couple of years after Graduation Day, Mitsuru is now attending college - an economy course to be exact for, one day, be finally a rightful and just head of the family corporation - the one famous worldwide and specialized in both electronics and the everyday life her father’s legacy -- Kirijo Group. Hidden under the latter’s influence and name, Mitsuru founded another group of young Persona Users: Shadows Operatives, whose task is to help people dealing with supernatural disasters associated with Shadows activities.

Where to find them:

- Gekkoukan High School, hallway in front of faculty office - Library of Gekkoukan - Student council classroom - Iwatodai Dormitory, lounge or command room - Tower of Tartarus - Kirijo mansion and Shadow Operatives HQ - Yakushima family estate and beach

Current plans:

ATONEMENT. To pay for the sins of her family, of her grandfather in particular who had, with the price of his own life, tried to remake the world with the help of an evoked Nyx, her Harbinger and Plumes of Dusk he studied. Those researches, with its scientists and experiments, cause the Port Island incident of 1999 that killed numerous people and did bring forth the Dark hour.

ELIMINATION OF THE CURSE OF THE DARK HOUR. Mitsuru’s true objective, that she believe will bring peace to her own family and a smile to reappear on her father’s place. Although selfish, in a sense, it’s the will that keeps her fighting, in the first line too.

ACADEMIC CAREER. Mitsuru aspires and points to the utter best when it comes to education. And she wants her teammates to be clever just the same, prepared and able to manage a healthy and successful school life and battles at night. Even during college, she will not stop encouraging her ex-teammates to study, if they do think of continuing being a, maybe, University student.

TO FIGHT FOR A MORE PEACEFUL REALITY. After the demise of her father, she begins seeing the world and people under a less selfish light; to not just hope for a better present with the intention of a single man’s well-being, but for a greater deal, many more people and right ideals.

TO LEAD A WAY NORMAL LIFE AND KNOW MORE ABOUT THE WORLD. Child-like curiosity is often at fault when dealing with Mitsuru on relaxing occasions; being raised in a sheltered environment, she truly desires to finally and fully experience the “real world” as much as she can - one way or another. From its people to the food she never had tasted yet, to love matters and even the most useless and insignificant experiences like a simple stroll can be -- she just wants to know more about the outside world and to be, maybe, part of it too, once put etiquette aside first.

Desired interactions:

GETTING TO KNOW BETTER OTHER YOUNGER USERS. Mitsuru is caring and motherly at heart and has a good time dealing with younger Users she can instruct; it’s part of her character to go towards others that way, listen to them too, and she often thinks they must be defended, shielded by the difficulties and hardships that fighting Shadows would cast upon them; might be because of her own pride or just trying to protect latest generations from the risks, but a confront about the matter, when facing the issues with Mitsuru is often needed.

LIGHTHEARTED TIME WITH SEES. Under the icy façade of the imperious and firm cold girl she exhibits when surrounded by people who do not know her well enough, there lies a rather naive and curious girl - not that different from others of the same age, except for heritage. One thing she tries to not get too fixated about, not with her oldest friends - for she too wants to live like a normal girl and have fun like the others do. And so, she takes the risks and proposes activities, free afternoon outdoors... whatever that’d keep her relaxed and at ease with her dormmates.

LOVE ISSUES. Certainly less angsty than a certain marriage one, but I’ve always desired for girls talks threads - that did rarely came at all here. It’s a shame, for I love the idea of Mitsuru at least partaking in them, not necessarily being the subject to discuss; she smells affection, you can not fool her... she will know and she’ll surely desire to hear more about it. What would be cute as well, though, is to maybe see tables turn and her being the one interrogated - that’d be quite a sight.

Childhood or pre-2007 timelines are always welcome too, in fact - I adore sassier smol muse.

Offered interactions:

EMPRESS ARCANA TO ITS FINEST. Mother, older sister, tutor and supporting figure for your problems. She’s your girl. Caring and nurturing are the main aspects of her Arcana and Mitsuru is a clear example of all that; she will lend people a hand, offer advice and make anyone treating you bad/bullying you/etc experience utter hell and make them regret it all. Sweet with those who deserve it, firm when necessary - she won’t see the bad in your muse until openly revealed. Let her sign you and your friends up for summer courses or clubs at school even if you don’t need it because she’s worried, and she cares. It’s her character and it’s extremely endearing in my opinion, especially since most of the people here consider her just the cold ice queen of executions?? No. She’s much more. She merely doesn’t demonstrate to be as such all the time. All is gained, when deserved - even her most sincere and sweetest side.

THE ISSUE OF HER MARRIAGE. This is angst. We all know of the girl’s past arranged marriage, the one that makes all her reasons to fight and care for herself and her friends almost crumble. It is an inevitable part of her character and story that I, as a mun, can not ignorance if I truly desire to write and be satisfied with my own take on Mitsuru. No matter how much I do, to be honest, hate it -- but at the same time find extremely interesting to explore. Arranged business marriages are not that rare in Japan and Mitsuru is, from the longest time, victim - for a greater good, of course, of all that mess too. She hates the man for how he treats her but, for the Group’s sake, decides to engage in dates, accompany him and promise to one day marry the rich heir. Discussing, talking about this matter is, from what I’ve seen so far, really interesting, it offers development between our muses and always leads to a bit of angst which is always welcome.

ANGST. Can’t spell Mitsuru without angst... right? Ahah, she’s complicated, fragile and a good liar. Stubborn too, at times - no matter what she does preach often around the dorm, and she had no intention of letting other even help her carrying or sharing the self-inflicted burden and family sins she made hers since mere childhood. This results in fights - just like with Yukari in-game, and generally to see Mitsuru as a sort of superior human being, with no time to dedicate to others or even herself at some point, too busy fighting her own personal war. That’s sad, and what makes it worse is that she often does not realize it - thus leading to incomprehension. Always interesting to explore.

Current open post/s:

None at the moment but if you have any ideas for plot, just write me a starter, or hit me up ( if tumbl r permits me to see dms, i cry )

Anything else?:

Because of university keeping me busy most of the year with all its exams, I might be a bit slow with replies; I’d hardly be completely inactive but, yes, that is the only problem about me and writing. Overall, I’m quite timid at first - so it gets me a lot to be all open, fine and dandy with you - just don’t read all of that as me being proud, bitter or whatever, I don’t think I am. Plus I’m always open to plot and discuss thread, I’m always honored as much as there is respect and patience!

Tagging: i was tagged by @aragakisan weeks ago, but steal it if you wish!

#(( ooc ;; ᵃ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶰᵒʷ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ ))#long post

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maggieinnepal · 7 years

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Students ROCK

I’m starting to be completely psyched about the students. It took just a bit at first because they are college freshman and pretty consumed with what they are doing in their lives and with each other. They are not as quick to latch on or show excitement to the PAs as the middle school and high school students were, but now that they are seeing that we are young adults with senses of humor too, they are coming out of their shells and they are the best! They are always excited to see you on campus and in the halls, and have started inviting us to do stuff (tomorrow some of the students in my class are cooking hotpot for us in the dorm kitchen!).

There’s 282 students split into 14 classes, or sections. Each section has a teacher and a few PAs. They’ve assigned 4 PAs to each of sections 001-003. These sections are called ‘A1’s – they are the ones who are really riding the struggle bus based on their entrance test. The twelve of us PAs on these sections run a more intensive speaking curriculum than the ‘A2s’ (sections 004-014). My section – 001, which is supposed to be the weakest group of the 14 sections, only has around 15 students. Although I began with section 001, I also began working with section 003 at the beginning of the week for half of each day. The section 001 PAs (yay for us!), apparently did an extra great job in our evening activities section after the first two days of camp, and so they did some tradsies amongst sections and moved me and a fellow PA Zak into two other sections to be ‘lead PAs’. So now I work with section 001 in the morning session, and section 003 in the afternoon and evening activity sessions. Really this lead thing means nothing, all the PAs are great, I think it was more of just a transferring of ideas and energy.

The very first day of camp was a total mind f+^$& for me. There was a special schedule due to the fact that all the students had to do tests in order to check that they had been placed in the right section. Somehow, while the other 37 PAs were assigned to different rooms of 6-8 students to watch them take a test and make sure they didn’t cheat, my teaching partner John and I were assigned to teach 3 sections, of 40min listening/reading class, back to back to back, with ~50 students in each class. Without any of the student’s teachers present, or a co-teacher PA. Like, me in a big room of fifty 18-20 year olds. I had no idea what I was walking into or what was going to happen until I was handed the materials by the program coordinator and walked into the room, and was immediately EXCEEDINGLY happy that I had some experience teaching . If not I would have pooped my pants right in front of the class. Even though I was a tiny bit annoyed to be blind sighted by this assignment, especially when the other 37 PAs were chilling out for 2 hours, I genuinely really love teaching. It was actually really fun to be up in front of a class again without training wheels or co-teachers. I got to run the class how I wanted to run it. (This is a little like my dislike of travelling in groups….no one likes having to compromise…). I’ve missed it and it really was a lot of fun in the end J

So camp is set up like this:

We finally settled into a daily schedule that is actually quite intense. The PAs go to the last hour of morning classes which is from 11-12. In this section we basically divide up so that we are one PA per group, and help the students with the group work that they are working on. This is where I get to work with section 001. Next, there is a lunch break, and then students report back to the classrooms for a 3-rotation of afternoon activities. There’s computer lab, listening/reading lesson, and ‘talk time’ . PAs are responsible for teaching talk times (at least for weeks 1 and 2). For A2s, this means a set of games and activities, but for A1, this means 3 rounds of ‘speed interviews’. These are absolutely exhausting, but ultimately the best possible activity for very low level students to be doing with their time. Each group has 4-5 students, so each of the 4 PAs takes a student for 10 minutes and just has conversation. Every 10 minutes the students rotate. Each student talks to each PA for 10 minutes, and then the first session is done and the next group of students comes in. This means that as PAs, we hold 12 mini 10-minute conversations with non-native speakers, which let me tell is you is TIRING! Luckily, the better we get to know the students, the more fun it is because you get to know them as people, and also get to know their individual English proficiencies better, meaning that it is easier to choose topics and establish a dialogue that you know they will be able to understand, instead of grasping at straws for things they may be able to comprehend.

After the afternoon activity session, there is clubs and sports for an hour. Somehow, my friends Pearl and Dex and I got drafted to run the badminton club(?!?). This has ended up being loads of fun. I got to pick up a new sport and it turns out that it is really, really fun. Some of the students are REALLY good at it, and it’s fun to watch them. The kids come to club and we play doubles at the university sports complex, rotating the loosing team out and a new team in for 5-point games. SO fun!!!

After sports and clubs there is a dinner break and then evening activities from 7:30-8:30, which means basically just games – no studying. Today section 003 group watched Grease…..maybe shouldn’t have watched a movie during evening activities but it waaaas in English, and the kids had had a long day. And so did the PAs.

The 001s and 003s are coming along SO well its sort of incredible! Kids that just giggled and hid their faces if they were asked ‘How are you?’, are now sitting down with me at speed interviews and breaking into monologues about their weekend. It’s amazing what consistent, relentless exposure to a language will do for students. It’s inspiring and wonderful to see their confidence sky-rocket. Love this job!

Mags

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teacherkmd · 6 years

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Second Week in QuFu: Small Victories

Week 2

Since having my schedule rearranged, I have found myself with a lot of free time. I am having fun listening to the military training that all my freshmen students have to go through. It is also “fun” to walk around campus and have them get in trouble for staring at me when they’re supposed to be listening to their drill sergeant. (All freshmen in university go through mandatory military training lasting from 2 weeks to a month). My classes will start the last week of September.

(Good camouflage)

The English department finally met up with us to talk about expectations and regulations. Since I am teaching all 6 sections of Speaking and Listening 1 for freshmen, I basically get to do what I want. I have textbooks, and there is a loose “use 50% of the books” rule. After looking at those textbooks, I’ll most likely be using them as homework and for support material. This course will basically be a conversation class. The textbooks seem to cover things like making appointments, answering a phone, how to end a conversation, how to begin a conversations, and ordering food at restaurants, etc. This all seems like very low level stuff compared to what the sophomores were capable of doing during the single class meeting I had with them.

I’m hearing whispers of a school sponsored trip to the Confucius temple this month, so look forward to more on that soon. We (the other foreign teachers and I) have also finally gotten the ball rolling on Chinese classes to begin next week. We picked up our textbooks this week to give approval. My book is an HSK5 (proficiency exam) prep book. It basically contains like 8 practice exams. I’m interested to see how the tutor will spend “class” time to help me prep for it.

Since last week there have been quite a few exciting developments.

The foreign teachers all had a potluck. The new teachers (Kim and I) didn’t have much to contribute since we are still figuring out where to get ingredients and kitchen supplies. We did cut up a lot of fruit though. Sharlyn (another Fellow) made some bread, coleslaw, and some yummy veggie pasta. Karen, a short term visiting physics professor from Canada, brought some bread and baozi. Jordan, a French teacher (from France), brought some wine and an interesting perspective to our political talks about Trump, healthcare, and other things affecting Americans and Canadians. Mike (the host) had prepared another pasta dish, and some banana pudding. It was good to connect with the other foreign teachers on campus.

I met a senior physics student (who likes to point out how young I am). Since 1) I don’t teach seniors, 2) physics students don’t take English, and 3) she’s only 3 years younger than me, I felt safe agreeing to hang out with her. This hangout session comprised the first real test of my Chinese proficiency other than small talk or asking for service in stores in restaurants. She took me on a scooter ride around QuFu. Next to the Confucius temple is a shopping/eating district. Apparently, it is where all the young people go to hang out in town. We ordered some vegetarian (much to the regret of my new friend) noodles, some frozen fruit yogurt, and did some shopping. They (her friend showed up at this point) were very interested in how I would look in Chinese fashion. Unfortunately for me, this meant trying on a lot of clothes I knew wouldn’t fit simply because our bodies are shaped differently (particularly, Western shoulders will almost never comfortably fit into Chinese shirts even if your chest and rest of your torso manage to fit that size). Afterwards, we went to a street next to a shopping center I’ve visited before. This shopping center has a KFC and a Watsons (think Walgreens or CVS with no medication). The cool thing, though, was that this street, apparently, turns into a night market. I would have never guessed. They set up carnival games and have lots of street vendor foods. Afterwards, they drove us back to campus and we shared a meal in one of the school’s many cafeterias. This turned out to be very nice because I had been too overwhelmed to enter the flooded cafeterias on campus thus far. After eating dinner, they wanted to see my apartment. This might sound weird to some people, particularly those going “whoa don’t invite students to your apartment.” However, this curiosity is borne out of the fact that there is a huge difference in where the local staff and students are housed and where the foreign teachers and students are housed. I showed them my apartment to which they lamented that I live in a castle. I asked if they would let my friend (another foreign teacher on campus) see their dorm since she hasn’t any experience with Chinese college campuses. They agreed after warning me that it would be very messy. After collecting the other teacher, we went to see the student dorms.

I didn’t take any pictures as it would have been rude. Just imagine a building from a post apocalyptic zombie movie. There are bars on all the windows (I assume to prevent suicides or accidents or both). The lights in the hallways don’t work. There aren’t showering facilities anywhere in the buildings and students resort to sponge bathing. All the doors look like prison doors, short, metal, and inset into thick walls. All the doors are locked with padlocks if no one is in the room, and left unlocked if a student is inside. Each roommate has a key for the padlock. When you open the door to the dorm, you will see a room smaller than most people’s bedrooms back home. On the left side of the room are bunkbeds to accommodate four students and the right wall is lined with desks. There is a small porch for them to hang laundry. There is barely any room to walk and definitely no semblance of personal space or privacy. In some dorms, there are 6 beds (four on the left wall, and two high rise beds on the right side that have the desks under them).

After showing us their dorm, they wanted to show us where the graduate students stay on campus. The difference is night and day. They have a completely newly renovated building. It has an elevator (my building doesn’t even have an elevator). Central heating and air-conditioning. Motion detecting recessed LED lighting in the hallways that turn on and off as you move down the hall. A fancy restaurant like cafeteria in the basement. Only three students to a room, each room containing their own shower and bathroom. Lockers are next to each of the beds for them to put their personal belongings in. They had an even better porch than my apartment, with laundry drying racks that elevate and lower from the ceiling.

Anyways, that ends the “hang out session”.

Monday the 10th was Teacher Appreciation Day. Sad for me since I no longer have students. But not really, since students still used WeChat to send me messages and found me to give me chocolate. One of my students interviewed me about my love life (I was under the impression it was only going to be sent to my students) and then published it on the school website for a “teacher highlight.” Now faculty and staff all know about my love life so that is fun! If not extremely awkward. But the page also included student comments about what they think of me as a teacher. Since I only had one class with them, a lot of the comments are that I smile a lot, I talk loud (#AmericanProblems), and that I’m pretty.

I also finally got paid my living stipend by my university. And since nothing is really available in stores around here (like measuring spoons and cheese and butter), I am happy to announce I have figured out how to have things like this delivered through the Chinese version of Amazon (TaoBao). I may or may not have also purchased a popcorn popper for the microwave (anyone who knows me won’t be surprised by this).

This week also included my first trip to the gym. The other foreign teacher and I joined the most “western” gym we could find. They send us the group class offerings in a weekly WeChat message. Not that that helps either of us since she can’t read Chinese, and I don’t know any workout language in Chinese. However, after doing some conversions from miles to kilometers and figuring out what speed I needed to be running at… I can now report it is extremely hard to run in polluted air. You really can’t breathe. The weight machines are also a trip, because the weights don’t list what weight they are, not in kilograms or lbs. I might take a silver sharpie and just write my best guesstimate. I maxed out one of the machines though, so I’m pretty sure they’re not calibrated the same way they are in the US. Watching the guys faces though when I put max weight on the leg machines was #priceless.

Yesterday, Tuesday the 11th, I observed a local teacher’s English class. It was a group of junior students doing intensive reading. Their text was about hurricanes and the destruction they cause in the US. So naturally, this North Carolinian had to keep her sh*t together and try not to let her anxiety about Hurricane Florence’s approach mess with the observation. The teacher called on me multiple times during class to explain things like the Salvation Army, portable classrooms, and if “returnees” meant the same thing as refugees in the text. The actual teaching of the class was not as bad as I thought it might be (based on what I hear about Chinese teaching pedagogy towards intensive reading word by word). The teacher still did 98% of the talking, but she focused on language choice (“what words show the power of the storm?”) and article structure (“why would the author choose to break up the narration with this paragraph here?”, “Why are so many of the sentences short and elliptical? What effect does this create?”). The major concerns for me were the lack of student interaction in English (when they did work together it was in Chinese) and the fact that all the students had a reference text which included the article written in Chinese with answers to all the questions and exercises. I talked to the teacher after class and she seemed really open to working together to come up with solutions for these problems which she agrees are problems. She also seemed open to the idea that part of my job and hopes for my role on campus is to hold workshops.

All the teachers in my office (the linguistics office) are really open and friendly. I think the fact that I have relatively proficient Chinese abilities is helping me here. I hope to keep observing classes till my freshmen classes start so that I can keep building connections and relationships with the other teachers in my office and the literature and translation offices. That way, when it comes time for me to actually suggest things like workshops or MOOCs or other professional development opportunities, maybe some one will actually make time in their already overbooked schedules to hear what I and other teachers have to say.

That’s all for now!

(I know I promised to be better about pictures…. but next week really I promise… I really will be better. Below are some photos I took while on a walk out of the North gate of my campus.)

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ultraqueer · 8 years

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hey y’all! so i’ve recently gotten, like, really fucking invested in @charminglyantiquated‘s Elsewhere University world, and I just started scrawling this out in my notebook last week - so i decided that hey, i might as well post it. it’s loosely based on a few of my own experiences - in fact the whole thing was inspired by one - so, yeah. here we go!

“Faeries’ Ring”

………….

You knew what you were getting into.

Raised on Irish traditions and tales of the Fair Folk, you grew up carefully avoiding fairy rings and treating nature with an almost reverent air. Every few weeks you would gather up all the vines and leaves and fresh flowers you could find—never, ever stealing from bushes or nearing that one, shimmering part of the forest in your search—and build small houses for whomever and whatever may wish to rest there. Each night you left out small offerings—a pretty bead you found at school, a crystal you bought at the museum, and a homemade raspberry-lemonade cupcake among them—and some mornings something new awaited you in return.

It was obvious that the best course of action was to hold on to these treasures, for safety’s sake, and so you do, tucking each one in an antique jewelry box that you take with you wherever you travel. One of these such gifts stays on your person at all times: a large ring, dried flowers suspended in the glass center and surrounded by colorful stones. It was tucked on the lip of a fallen rose petal on a chill March morning, taking the place of the tiny replica of a Lady Gouldian finch you’d crafted in art class. You wear this ring on your middle finger of your dominant hand, showing that you did indeed win favor with some of the Them without being all too obvious about it.

After all, the Fair Folk can be a bit indecisive (though you’d never say this aloud). It can be difficult to tell if they will simply appreciate you wearing this token or if they might take it as an invitation for something you want no part of. So you keep it on most hours of the day, even when you sleep, twisting it and turning it and rubbing your thumb across the smooth glass when you’re nervous. It only comes off once in a blue moon, when you wake up to the stones glittering and shining in the pitch darkness, and the air around you seems to buzz. That’s when you rip the ring off and set it down carefully on your bedside table—you’re frightened but not so much that you lose all common sense—the glass and stones pointing away from you.

You still start your day with an offering—now usually one of vanilla creamer or some shiny bauble that caught your fancy at the dollar store—and you still try to build houses, though that at first seems more habit than anything else. The Fair Folk, as you’ve learned, can be far larger than your childhood imagination led you to believe, but they seem to appreciate the gesture nonetheless. Your best days come the week or so following when you’ve built a new house, before it’s been destroyed by weather or raucous parties thrown by who- or whatever took a liking to them, and in these weeks you leave a pouch of your favorite loose tea on the stoop (you’ve found them particularly fond of the berry-orange-honey white and red blend, though you try to rotate flavors to avoid boring any potential guests). You’ve learned to always do this come finals.

Students come to you sometimes, asking how you do it—how you seem so well-favored, how you stay so safe, how, even when you did take a “vacation,” you came back sprightly and hardly changed at all—and you have little to tell them. You give them advice, sure, tell them what you’ve learned in the past just-over-two decades of your life, but so many of them simply laugh and turn away, young and carefree and maybe just there to poke fun at the undergrad who spends her weekends shopping for flowers and sketching out plans for the grandest home imaginable—just in case.

You know, though. You see it in the iron clasps finding their places around their necks and hear it in the hushed tones as they ask themselves, but what if she’s right? And those who don’t show any signs—well, you like to think They will be lenient, but when they suddenly start eating a little too healthily and avoiding group selfies, you know. You’ll put out something special as an offering that night, something tied to the person (be it a pair of earrings or their favorite cake recipe), and add on to whatever house is currently sitting in your garden. Sometimes they return and sometimes they don’t, and sometimes there’s a headband sitting there in the morning, or a lone left sock—being honest the results are more dependent on the student’s major than anything else—but at least the renovated housing and special offerings earn you a bit more reputation, a bit more respect.

Newer students seem convinced that you��re actually one of Them—who else would seem so in the know, or would dare live in the one, virtually abandoned dorm with a massive apple tree right by the door?—but the sophomores and above Know you. They call you Archie, short for architect (a name you’ve come to accept—you’re no architect major, but at least the name doesn’t make your actual major immediately obvious), and some give flowers and trinkets when they know you’re about to begin building. You appreciate it—after all, you’re a poor college student who can’t exactly afford to buy fresh flowers several times a month—but always take care to add your own offerings and flowers on top of whatever they give. The Fair Folk may accept a gesture funded by others, but you know you’re safest when you give something of your own.

For this reason, you’re one of the “lucky” ones. An English and music double major is virtually guaranteed to be stolen away at least every few months, but in your four years here you’ve only left once. You wear your clothes inside out so often it’s more habit than precaution now—though you doubt you’ll ever truly be used to the feel of underwire biting into your skin in an even more uncomfortable way—and you leave out trinkets even when you’re at home, on break, far from any signs of Elsewhere U. You’ve prepped, you’ve prepared, you’ve readied yourself for whatever may attempt to come for you on the way home from your recital, or the poetry reading, or the spring musical.

Yet still, you feel the strangest tug. Be it a spur-of-the-moment detour through the woods to get to class a bit faster or the desire to sit next to Denise (who isn’t Denise, not really, and hasn’t been for nearly two months now) in workshop, you feel more and more drawn to the Elsewhere the closer you get to graduation. You’ve become incredibly invested in your architectural exploits, building bigger and better homes with increasing regularity, and you’ve added a bit of spice to your offerings. You continue to leave small trinkets and creamers, but every few days you leave a few lyrics of an original song, or a bit of dialogue from a piece currently in workshop that you desperately need to get back to editing, or something else equally as personal, special, and, hopefully, intriguing to the Fair Folk. On rare occasions you grow even more desperate, throwing yourself outside all night in a truly desperate plea for something, anything to happen. To appear.

You despise acknowledging them, but tonight is indeed one of those nights.

It’s a night for music and you sit in the bitter cold beneath the apple tree, bundled up in a periwinkle coat, fingers numb as you pluck at the strings of your ukulele. You’ve finally set your favorite poem to a tune, and though your hands shake violently you still manage to hit the proper chords. It takes a moment, a tense one, but it passes and before long you’re humming and singing and swaying with the beat, singing out about the girl you once loved, a long, long time ago. Your tongue slips and sets free your true name but you don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care anymore. The song ends and you leap into the next, stopping for neither breath nor a moment to regroup. Something happens and the world feels almost trancelike as you pour your heart and soul out beneath the apple tree to the sound of a perfectly-tuned ukulele and the wind—or something else—rustling the bushes.

Your eye catches a glimmer moving across the strings with you. For once, you leave the ring be and decide to see what happens.

………….

This time, maybe you won’t be coming back.

#nic writes #nic writes things #elsewhere university

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