#I'm here just trying to enjoy a show with a diverse offer of songs let be me

[shirewalker]

me, every time I see yet another joke against “ballads”

[sylvies-chen]

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

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He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

[turinn]

A Night Out

Mammon x GN!Reader

Summary: Mammon discovers a club holding a night to celebrate human culture, and decides maybe his human could use a little of that. Fluff, alcohol consumption, cuddling, Satan being a bastard at the end. A/N: This is my first Obey Me fic!! I’ll admit, I don’t know Mammon that well as he’s not one of my best boys, and I’m not even sure where the idea for this came from. It just popped into my mind, and I’m not one to turn down inspiration. I can’t make promises for characterisation, but I tried my best! Also I know literally nothing about nightclubs I just made shit up sorry.

"Hey, MC!! Open up will ya?" You groaned, pulling yourself out of bed. Mammon better have a damn good reason for nearly knocking your door down at... okay it was only 8PM, but still! Sometimes you just wanted an early night. You probably should've learned by now that that was far too much to ask in this house. You paid no mind to the fact that you were in your pyjamas, or the fact that they weren't the most modest of clothes. It was a warm night, so it didn't even register in your mind that you would be showing Mammon far more than he bargained for when you tugged the door open and glared at him. "What is it, Mammon? I don't have any money." His cheeks tinted pink at the sight of you, but the last comment brought his composure back just fine. "Why d'ya have to assume I'm after money? I'm here to do something nice and ya throw it in my face!" You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, though your interest was piqued. "It's a fair assumption, isn't it? Anyway, what do you want, then? I was about to sleep." "At 8PM? Laaaaame. Listen, when ya hear what I have to say, ya won't be worrying about sleep!" Mammon grinned at you, taking a few seconds to realise that your silence was an indicator for him to continue. "There's this club having some kind of event- ain't the kind of place I'd usually be seen dead in but apparently theres some kind a' market for human culture here, an' they're capitalising on it. Figured ya might be interested." His grin only got wider, he looked so proud of himself for thinking this up. Truth be told, it did interest you, if only to find out what exactly demons trying to hold an event based on 'human culture' looked like. Considering the sheer size and diversity of humanity and it's culture, creating anything both inclusive and cohesive sounded borderline impossible. You nodded, shutting the door and reappearing a few minutes later fully dressed. Mammons cheeks seemed to get even pinker, though he would never acknowledge it. Your club attire was vastly different from your casual wear, and he had not been expecting you to look so good. "Coming...?" The question seemed to bring his brain back into his body, causing him to realise you'd walked past him and were waiting at the top of the stairs. 

The walk there was pleasant, warm evenings in the devildom were often quite nice, and spending time with Mammon when he wasn't scheming or trying to scam someone was something you'd grown to enjoy. Hopefully, things would stay that way.

The club in question was tucked away down an alley, honestly a little skeevy-looking, and you couldn't help but think that if Lucifer saw Mammon bring you here you'd be greeting him hanging upside down the next morning. Luckily for both of you, it was just the two of you. Before long you had a drink in your hand, though you couldn't identify it just from looking. A quick sip told you it was your favourite, and you briefly wondered how Mammon knew what drink you tended to go for when you went to clubs back home.

Honestly, you had to give the club its due. They seemed dedicated to making sure your senses weren't too thoroughly abused- the lights were bright enough to see while dim enough to keep the atmosphere and the colours changed often, but they weren't harsh at all and the music was loud but not deafening- and indeed to the theme. While most nightclubs around the world had similarities, the club had seemingly gone out of its way to at least represent some different cultures. All of them would be near impossible, but you hadn't been anticipating much of an attempt at all. The songs played varied in both language and genre, while keeping the upbeat tempo generally expected in a club; the drinks menu, which was extensive, offered an almost flooringly wide range. Given you'd been expecting some trussed up version of a generic western nightclub- something no different to any place in London you'd pay out your ears to get into only to leave an hour later because the music was shit, or some drunkard had tried to steal your phone- this was rather impressive. You grinned at Mammon as a song you knew and loved came on, and dragged him out to dance with you. With the drink not yet kicking in, you weren't as bold as you could be, and stood a few feet away from him, singing along quietly while you danced. Mammon really, really wanted to dance with you properly. His hands on your hips, you smiling at him, preferably leading to your lips on his a little later on- but admitting that? That he wanted to dance with a human? That that was his entire reason for even bringing you here? Never. He had a reputation to uphold! He was in luck, though. A few drinks in and another song you absolutely adored and you were all over him. Or at least, thats how he’d tell the story in future. In truth, you'd simply stepped close enough to him that he got the hint and put his hands on your waist, hoping the lighting was low enough that you wouldn't notice his blush. From this close, the grin on your face was even more brilliant, your laughter and occasional gentle singing reaching his ears easier, and... well, he thought everything about you was beautiful. Not that you'd ever hear it from him.

As the night wound down and the alcohol started to make you more sleepy than anything else, you hooked your hand in his and dragged him home. Your cheeks were still red from the drinks and exertion when you stepped into the light of the House of Lamentation, and the notes of tiredness he could spot in your eyes somehow added to your overall cuteness. Kissing you was pretty much the only thing on his mind as you turned to him and thanked him for the evening, but before he could make his move you'd turned back and headed up the stairs, hand still in his. He noted it was his room you made a beeline for, not yours, and the two of you collapsed onto his bed in unison- which made the fact that you somehow ended up lying on top of him super odd, but he wasn't about to complain. "I had a really good time tonight. Thank you, Mammon." "'Course ya did, you were with me." Your soft giggle was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. "Hey... this was a date, right?" Sincerity and hope filled your eyes as you waited for an answer, and his heart clenched. Did you want this to be a date? "I mean... if that's what ya wanna think then sure, it was a date." That blinding grin graced your features once again and you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, doing the same to his other when he didn't pull away. His eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but you as he flushed, and it wasn't until he made eye contact with you again a few moments later that you finally planted one on his lips. Were this some corny romcom, he might've said he felt like he'd somehow ended up back in the celestial realm (he'd never admit he was thinking it), for all the joy that filled him when you did so. He stuttered for a moment when you pulled back, but you gave him no time to begin boasting to save face before you settled into his arms and let sleep overtake you. Mammown as more than happy to join you, a soft smile gracing his features. His human was so cute.

Waking up the next morning, his D.D.D had blown up with notifications from the House of Lamentation group chat. Just his luck that the reason for such activity happened to be a picture of the two of you sleeping that Satan had snapped earlier. He'd have to have words with his little brother about respecting boundaries and learning to knock. (The hypocrisy of such a lecture was lost on him.)

[rpbetter]

Hey, can I get some advice on improving my descriptions / becoming more literate? I feel like I'm really dull when it comes to my writing and would like some advice! Thank you!

You absolutely can, thank you for asking! I apologize it took me a bit to get to this, tumblr didn’t show me notifications and I’ve been rather busy. Hopefully, I can offer some good advice!

Please, keep in mind that, as always, it is just my advice. If these things do not work out for you, don’t feel bad about it! You just need to find what does work for you. And, if you have anything that jumps out at you that you wish me to elaborate more on, or even that simply occurs to you more specifically to ask as you read, please, do ask! I am always happy to have those questions, of course.

Being more literate in itself can help. It can also be a hindrance, however, as we tend to compare ourselves to others negatively. I’d say not to do that, but it’s something you have to unlearn, not something you can simply stop doing. We’re taught a lot of self-criticism by comparison in both the educational system and our society. You’ve got learn to approach material you enjoy as just that, something you enjoy, not a standard you need to uphold. All writers should be unique, they’re all individual people! I think the death of a good many unwritten works hinges on that, honestly; the writer couldn’t live up to their own expectations, born of comparison to their literary heroes.

That being said? Read.

Read new and diverse things, and revisit old favorites. Learn as many words as you can in whatever way works best for you; through reading alone, through word of the day apps, or looking up novel words you run across/looking up words as you write to compare them to synonyms. I know, tumblr has gotten really nasty in recent years about writers who seem to have “regurgitated a thesaurus.” There is always a bad way to do something good, there are always excesses when you’re passionate about something. Don’t replace every third word with an exotic one simply because you think it looks better. Do replace words that are, legitimately, better in how they evoke the setting or mood you are going for. Remember that word flow is important, perhaps especially when it comes to descriptions.

If you do not tend to read much material that is description heavy, I’d suggest doing so. Try to find works that are still descriptive, but fit with the genres you like to both read and write the best to get you started, but don’t stay there exclusively. It doesn’t need to be something like...let’s say, Tolkien. Not to piss anyone off, I’m not anti-Tolkien or anything, but I could never get into his works, regardless of interest or effort, because they’re so description heavy, and in ways that don’t pique or hold my interest much. So, if you find that you are not into description laden works, that isn’t a poor reflection on you! It’s more likely that you simply aren’t into those specific works, you need to find something that is more of interest to you, personally.

If you do tend to read many works that are descriptive at all, take up a few of your favorites and pick some passages within them that you enjoyed the most. Ones that you could feel. When they described an outfit, you not only saw it, you saw the way it moved on the character, knew what it would feel like to touch it. When they described a setting in nature, you had a sensory experience there as well; you could smell the hyper-specific scent of wildflowers on a warm breeze, or the electric chill of a sudden summer storm moving in.

Ask yourself what does this for you so that you can experiment with doing it yourself. Is it the words, the word flow? Is it what the author isn’t saying, leaving the reader to automatically fill in with their own sensory recollections? There are so many ways of being descriptive in writing, as many as there are writers, and as many as there are things to be descriptive about.

So, it’s, again, a bit of a situation of finding what naturally pulls you into those descriptions yourself. While there are always good rules that can apply across the board with writing, it is a creative art. If you’re only following the rules others have set down, you can end up feeling negative about the process, yourself, and the product...or your readers/RP partners feel like the work is lacking or boring. Even when people can’t quite put their finger on something, forced work feels forced, unnatural, or lacking substance.

Diversify what you consume.

I know, I just said that thing about the familiar stories! Once you’re better able to identify what it is that stands out as evocative to you, though, you can better feel that in unfamiliar works. You can get a better idea of how language itself works as a living thing. Read some things out of your usual genres, ask for recommendations from friends or family who read, check out some older works, and even follow some blogs that post a variety of poetry quotes or full poems.

Reading song lyrics and a variety of other spoken-word style things like slam poetry and rap is helpful as well. They’re all doing the same here, evoking imagery and emotion. That is what you are trying to do as well! These formats, additionally, use highly evocative words to describe in a shortened way. They are great for realizing unique ways that familiar words can be paired.

By going outside of your usual bounds, you may encounter words, writing styles, and other descriptive qualities you hadn’t considered before. If you don’t, you still end up with a fuller grasp on writing itself. Everything is a potential learning experience if you are willing to approach it that way! Use it to play around with words and styles, Use this as experimentation, and realize that it is perfectly alright for it not to work out. That’s part of the exercise of finding what works for you; realizing what doesn’t work.

When you have some ideas of what makes you experience the things being described, practice. Pick anything. In fact, incredibly mundane, irrelevant things are perfect for this. If you can describe a sock in good detail, in a way that isn’t either inaccurate or boring, giving it relevance and life, you can describe anything.

Use ask memes and writing prompts, and write them out from your character’s perspective.

Even if you are not writing a first person account, it helps you to use narrative language that the muse might use, or that gives the reader a intuitive feeling for the muse. Don’t try to fill the whole thing up with descriptions. Sometimes, just simplifying is a good thing, and will help more relevant details stand out.

For example, I will often use things in the environment around my muse to help pair with, further denote, and give the reader a feeling for the muse’s emotions, psychological state, and so on. If that muse is in a hectic state, I’m not going to describe something in the environment that isn’t, like a peaceful meadow. I’m going to describe the seeming chaos of some ants in the grass taking apart their food, the erratic seeds or spores on the wind, or the clatter of an old farm truck on the roadway that breaks up the peace of the surroundings.

It’s a very different effect than describing the entire meadow in high detail, in ways that are perceptible to my muse and not, down to a blade of grass or a rock. It then takes over too much of my reader’s imaginative process and agency without giving them anything of nonnegotiable importance about the scene or the muse. Details that reflect a state of internal distress, like the ants, seeds, or truck, then fall by the wayside of this massive scene-setting I’ve done. And, as unfortunate as it is, if you are writing RP especially, your audience is looking for details that are pertinent and impactful. They’re likely to, intentionally or otherwise, skip several paragraphs of descriptions no matter how beautiful they are.

Since you just said “descriptions” and “writing” {nothing wrong with that, I just want to be sure I’m covering as much as possible that might be of help to you}, I’m not sure if you are meaning external descriptions or more internalized, character-driven ones, and not sure if you are writing only RP, only traditional writing, or a combination thereof.

As I said above, using descriptions that reflect things about the muse is useful and interesting, regardless of how or what you are writing. So, even if you were not meaning internalized descriptions, doing the things I’m about to talk about relating to this will still be helpful!

Internalized descriptions include things like: mood, thoughts, memories, and sensory perception.

To do these things any justice, you have to really know your muse, be able to experience things from their unique perspective and not just your own - or just what you wish the reader to experience through them.

If you didn’t have inspiration for the muse, you wouldn’t be writing them, but inspiration isn’t the same as knowing them as well, maybe better, than yourself. To do that, it is a process of learning and experimentation...and practice.

Those memes I mentioned above? Those are useful here, too! It doesn’t matter if it isn’t an ask meme you want to reblog, or if no one sent you anything from it; you can find a variety of memes, save them, and ask yourself the questions.

On sentence memes, or “starter memes,” ask yourself what your muse’s internal reaction to having that sentence said to them would be, how it might externalize (or not), and if these things are true, or just your perception/what you would like to have happen. If you’ve developed this muse from scratch or spent time learning them from canon, you should have some pretty good ideas as to how they’ll feel. Expand on that instinctive or learned idea. Does it change if a different muse or character type says this? Say it is an inflammatory sentence, something accusatory, derogatory, or pushy. Do they react the same way if a loved one says it instead of a stranger? How about a person who is obviously intoxicated, or a person who is under the influence of youth, so to speak? Take that, and write out two different scenarios.

On ask, or “headcanon/development memes,” pick a question and answer it yourself. Just answer it in depth. Now, have your muse answer that question. You may notice that the muse didn’t want to answer as clearly, is lying or omitting things, and/or had other thoughts generated by that question. If you didn’t already do it this way, answer the question again as a story in which your muse goes through those thoughts. Describe their emotions using words that carry the same emotional resonance, not all descriptions need to be lengthy if the right words, right word order, are found for optimum impact on the reader. Write out the thoughts they are having, just as messy as they are naturally having them.

Outside of memes, you have yet more options for helpful exercises that get you in touch with your muse and your writing.

Try out photography and inspiration blogs. Pick a some pictures that drew your attention, and write about them descriptively. Write out how the picture makes you feel, what it makes you think about. Practice not just describing how something looks, but how it would feel to be there. Using the same pictures, write as your muse in the same way. Put them in this scene to give their experiences. It helps you get a grasp on putting impressions and experiences down in creative ways that allow others to experience it the same way, and it helps you more easily step into your muse’s mind and experiences.

Seeing things through your muse’s eyes (through the lens of their life experiences, preferences, biases, emotions, and thoughts) is critical in giving authentic descriptions. To do more of this, you can practice in every day life. Even if you cannot write it out, or write it out yet, you can consciously think as your muse. If your muse was watching this TV show or hearing this song, what would they think? Don’t just answer as, “they would/n’t like it.” Answer as to why they would or would not, what it makes them feel and think. You can continue doing this with your muse’s impressions of different environments and people.

You can even simply contemplate an emotion and how your muse feels and expresses it.

Adding on underlying and overarching emotions to the mix as you go along; emotion, and thought, is complex. We very rarely are only angry, sad, or happy. We are very rarely only thinking of a single thing, and even rarer, thinking of it out of nowhere. It’ll help you identify the way your muse experiences emotion and thought, as well as how best to describe these things.

For example, I write a muse that can easily present as simply being quiet and angry. Additionally, as the character develops, his actions and general behavior can seem to not match well with his overall, genuinely kind nature. It’s necessary for me as a writer to identify where the anger comes from, what its components are; it isn’t just anger. It’s built on the things anger so often is; frustration, sadness, and fear. It gives the reader insight and helps delineate the muse’s expression of “anger.” When the anger is coming more from a place of insulation and protection than it is frustration, it presents differently.

I describe the sensation of the most obvious emotion, the anger, but also the underlying states that have led to it being apparent. How it really feels to be a wounded animal in a corner. I describe an experience or two pertaining to the emotional pain and fear, keep it relevant throughout the text in callbacks (what set him off is related to those experiences in some way, and during or after the experience of anger, those other situations are referenced again). Maybe it is an outright flashback, maybe it is less thematically stated. The descriptions I use, again, of his surroundings-not just his expressions, tone of voice, or movements-denotes that he is in this particular state of mind. He might notice similarities in the environment relating to a previous bad experience, since he is in that mindset, or he might be noticing things in a more critical way than he normally would. Things he might see every day are being processed as hateful in some way; garish or otherwise visually displeasing, might be seen as outright harmful, or even menacing. Bold colors, sharp lines, stand out. Things come into high relief and are painted in large swaths of color, the minute details missing suddenly.

Further, you can think of things that make your own similar state of mind so much worse in these situations. Is there a repetitive sound in the background? Is the person he is speaking with seemingly blowing him off in some way? Is he hungry, tired, thirsty, in physical pain? I then write those things throughout as additional, building irritants. 

Using your personal experiences isn’t a bad thing, I really wish tumblr hadn’t gotten into that mindset. Unless you really have written a 100% self-insert character, they shouldn’t experience things exactly as you do, no. However, you have a basis to go off of already when you are describing their inner life; your own.

Maybe you have never been so wracked with grief that you collapsed, but you have been caught up in a significant loss of some sort that you can build upon. If you can better imagine what your muse’s experience is, you can describe it not only better, but also in a way that reads as legitimate. It’s not a description of grief that you could have gotten from anywhere else, doesn’t have cliché lines in it about grief, such as, “though he was drowning in an ocean of loss, he knew he had to be strong for his friends, so, he put on a brave face.” (There are other issues with that, but that’s a whole other post!)

My point is, you have the tools of accurate inner life within you, and you should use them to build that accuracy in your writing. Again, play with the words and structure, make sure you are building the feelings or otherwise being immersive about them. Keep them throughout the thread, do not have a muse magically become the opposite of what you’ve described because it is no longer convenient, and do not forgo little reminders that the muse feels the way they do, no matter what their actions might be saying.

When you describe your muse’s actions that are being influenced by an emotion, good or bad, use words that evoke the emotion while describing those actions.

If the muse is very sad, do not use words that bring to mind vivacity and passion. Don’t use metaphors that bring to mind those same things. Your muse doesn’t slink like a jungle cat to the table when depressed, but they might move in a daze, like a shadow, or a have to put maximum effort into their every step as though heading to their own execution.

I don’t think anyone should describe, let alone to an extreme, every action their muse undertakes, but when you are imparting these things with emotional tone or thought processes, it really shouldn’t be done. It’s exhausting for you to write, and just as exhausting for your reader, who is very likely going, okay, we get it, she’s angry. Like the descriptions of the surroundings, try to keep it to important and telling actions. You needn’t describe your muse’s every eye movement, but if they are so embarrassed they’re having trouble keeping eye contact, or so annoyed they glare, that is a description you want to add.

Writers never seem to forget facial expressions or dramatic body movements, which is reasonable, considering how visual a species humans are, but quite often forgo tone of voice and word pronunciation entirely. These are great ways to denote what your muse is feeling. Consider how your muse speaks most often, whether they work at proper pronunciation and hiding an accent, or if they simply let their most natural speech flow. Then, consider how different emotions might impact that. I’m not talking about the only go-to many muns on tumblr have, the “my muse speaks -first language here- when angry” thing. I’m talking about your muse entering into any emotion strongly enough to drop crisp pronunciation, outright mess up familiar and easy words, stumble, stutter, or pause. Write emotion into your muse’s speech, and don’t keep it to adding things like, “said angrily.”

That’s telling, not showing, and is the death of descriptive writing of any sort.

Doing any of the above in a document is highly recommended. Not only are you less likely to encounter tumblr eating your drafts as you work on them, you have more freedom to open it up later and play around with the structure. Additionally, writing directly on the platform can be distracting in more ways than just the desire to dash scroll! It can make you feel like you need to be doing what you owe instead, need to be responding to messages, posted memes, comments. Taking it off site feels more like your own space and time for experimentation.

I know this was long, and covered many points (though, it could always use more). So, I’m going to kind of rehash some below!

For learning and inspiration:

read things both familiar and not in order to figure out what sort of descriptions speak to you, then practice doing them yourself

read a variety of works, not just books, and not just new books; oftentimes, the lessons in older books will stand out to you even more for using descriptions that are no longer common. Those lessons still hold, like the very act of using common, highly recognizable objects and settings to describe a person, place, or thing. In those cases, see what you can rewrite that would give the same feeling using things that are currently so recognizable

don’t count out things like music and poetry, they flow with emotion and it is imperative that they give emotion and setting in unique ways

use ask/starter memes, pictures, and even common situations occurring around you to experiment with both writing descriptions and getting into your muse’s mindset

think on your own experiences with your environment and emotions

consider how your muse’s perceptions may change based upon thoughts and emotions, and/or how you can describe the setting to reflect and drive home these factors

really get to know your muse by exploring headcanon memes, giving yourself a refresher on their canon (yes, even if you wrote it), and comparing and contrasting your experiences with your muse’s on the same topics

experiment with new words, their use, and their flow

seriously, practice! Outside of writing you intend for anyone else to ever see!

Things to Remember:

you are unique as a person, therefore, you are unique as a writer...and that is a good thing, you just need to find what works for you

describe things that are important in setting the scene in ways that are not just visual; be emotive, and pick things that have bearing on the immediate topic

don’t forget that your muse’s voice and spoken words use can, and should be, impacted by thoughts and feelings

just like you, your muse is unlikely to see the same objects in the same light under any manner of strong emotional influence

also just like you, who is saying something and in what context is extremely important in how your muse reacts internally and how that is presented externally; if your muse feels and reacts the same way no matter the other party, they’re a little cardboard and you’re not being descriptive or thoughtful enough

listen, if you just really need to describe something utterly irrelevant to live another second? That’s fine, but you need to make it relevant. Perhaps, your muse noticed the cracks on that rock because they’re in an altered state - be that by way of a substance, or an emotion

there is a reason why we use clichés, and I am not going to say they should never be used, just that you should try to be more creative with them, and they should always be viable ones that truly match the mood

the same is true of words, we have some words that are just so commonly expressive of sensations and emotions that they come up quite often, but again, try to find something similar if possible, and always make sure it’s still evoking the right thing

I repeat: get in touch with your muse, even if you do not write them from first person. The language you use as a writer to describe them and their world is better if it feels like them

no support for tumblr’s anti-wordiness, but huge support for optimizing word use for maximum impact

to that end, if you’re a RPer, even a fic writer, please know that your desire to write descriptively isn’t going to be appreciated by some people. That’s their fucking loss, and you are better off without them. You will find the audience that will properly appreciate what you’re doing!

I hope some of this helped to give you some starting points you might not have thought of!

[zawazawanightmares]

Hata no Kokoro & Boyfriend

You, Hata no Kokoro, are connected to Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin] Your partner selected the 18+ server. Your partner has a starter. Type /starter or tap here to see it.

Hata no Kokoro: /starter

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: 19M https://imgur.com/a/FIt4odq

Hata no Kokoro: Hm...hello.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep! *He lifts a hand to give her a peace sign*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Bee bop?

Hata no Kokoro: Beep...bop. Boo boo beep bop beep bop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep bop be bo bee bee pi!~

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Hahaha!

Hata no Kokoro: Ha ha. Beep beep pi bo boop beep.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Bee bee bee. Hmph! Spoken like a true professional! Bo pee bo.

Hata no Kokoro: Thank you. I have just heard this language but I'm trying my best. Beep bo pi boop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: It's not a language, bzzrp. If it is, it's only for me!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Bop. It doesn't mean anything!

Hata no Kokoro: It doesn't? Oh. I was under the assumption that we were communicating. Beep.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: We were! Just not like, uhhhhhh.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Coherently?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I can't explain it, my spectrum is way too diverse. Bop.

Hata no Kokoro: Ah. Then I have so much left to learn.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Learning is for chumps.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I hate learning!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Though-

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I only beep because sometimes I just don't know what to say.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Or how to react. So I just play dumber.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: And beep! Bop. Skebop.

Hata no Kokoro: Not knowing what to say...I can emphasize with that.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: You can beep if you want to. It usually makes people mad at me. Be bop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: ... it's also like a verbal tic thing. Bzzr.

Hata no Kokoro: Beep. Beep bop pi.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Skeskebop! Be bop ba eee!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Do you sing?

Hata no Kokoro: I do. But not often...people find it creepy.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Why!!

Hata no Kokoro: Because I don't emote during it, regardless of the notes I'm hitting.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Who cares!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Sing with me! Beep!

Hata no Kokoro: Okay. What song do you want to sing?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Let's just make one up as we go. Try to feel it from your musical soul! Or whatever you have in there! *He pulls his mic from his pocket to start the song off at a quick pace, though certain longer chords sound pretty nice from him. When it's her turn, he holds his mic towards her to imply it's her time to go.*

Hata no Kokoro: *inhales and harmonizes like a Enka singer without changing her facial expression*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *BF is instantly fascinated by this unexpected response, and decides to go along with it anyways, harmonizing and spitting more chords at her, pulling his mic back.*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *HE seems to be having a BLAST!*

Hata no Kokoro: *is enjoying this even if she doesn't show it on her face; keeps singing while Boyfriend spits chords at her*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *It seems to push BF outside of his normal style, because his chords get longer and more enunciated. Unfitting of a young man who is dressed like a wanna-be rapper, but he keeps up very well.*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *He ends up singing with her for about six straight minutes before he stops, huffing, and covering his throat.*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I hit too high chords~!!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Baller! Great job!

Hata no Kokoro: *blushes while her face remains blank* Really?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Yes! *He offers her a peace sign with his free hand*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Amazing!

Hata no Kokoro: *returns his peace sign and finally smiles* Thank you.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep beep! What's your name?! We've got to sing again in the future. But not right now- my throat hurts!

Hata no Kokoro: Kokoro. Hata no Kokoro. And you?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: That's a long name... I didn't know we were being so formal. But uhhh.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Everyone calls me Boyfriend, that's my singing name, but ... my name is Kare!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Hatsune Kare.

Hata no Kokoro: Alright. Would you like me to call you Boyfriend or Hatsune?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: BF or Kare! Super not formal, haha!!

Hata no Kokoro: Then I will call you Kare. Is that alright?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Yes! That's alright, bop bep.

Hata no Kokoro: I will see you again, Kare. I want to...sing again.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Okay! We're friends now, if you ever spot me out and about come say hi!

Hata no Kokoro: I will. So long for now.

You left the chat

[anime-matchmaker-blog]

Heyo! Could i have a matchup for the seven deadly sins, fire emblem, assassination classroom, and free! iwatobi swim club? I'm 5'6", and i have dyed purple and gray hair (although my natural hair is dark brown). I have hazel eyes and i'm curvy. I love reading, writing, and listening to music. I'm an aries. I'm pansexual, so a male and or famale matchup is cool! I also love candles, incense, and fairy lights. I'd put down that i like anime and manga, but i think that's a bit obvious. Thanks! ♥️

I have short half blue and black hair, i love video games, reading, photography, writing, and singing. I love scented candles and incense. I’m 5'6", pale asf, and i’m pansexual, so any matchup is fine! I’m also an aries and i’m a hufflepuff! I love hamilton(!), the 1975 and melanie martinez. I also try to be the nicest person but i swear i’ll make you cry if you hurt my friends.

Hopefully we didn’t get mixed up with this ahaha…. :X Anyways, I hope you’ll like your matches, anon ^^

Your matches are…:

Kellam (Fire Emblem:Awakening): A rather average guy who’s most interesting trait is his lackof presence, Kellam is easily overlooked by others most of the time and thatwon’t be any different when it comes to you. He certainly will notice youhowever, since amongst the others in the army, your unique hair colour makesyou stand out. He most likely would’ve watched you from afar multiple times,simply because people tend to not notice him so he’d be on the sidelinesmostly. If it looks as if you’re struggling with carrying weapons to and fromstorage or needing help with other things, Kellam certainly will step in andlend you a helping hand. Such an offer might startle you since you wouldn’thave noticed Kellam being close by. While working on those chores, the two ofyou can make small talk and this slowly leads to you getting to know him inmore depth and vice versa.

The army is full of diverse personalities and while it’seasy to describe a number of those personalities as ‘nice’, it’s different whenit comes to you, or so Kellam finds. It’s rather interesting to see you beingnice to your friends and acquaintances but once someone insults or puts downsomeone you care about, you can turn rather fierce. It’s actually somethingKellam finds endearing about you. The fact that you enjoy reading and writingwill also be something that piques Kellam���s interest. He might not be thebiggest reader in the army (that title probably belongs to Robin and perhaps Sumiaand Cordelia) but he still enjoys a good book here and there, and upon findingout you too enjoy it, he’ll often ask you for recommendations and invite you tospend time with him reading. He also wouldn’t mind your company if you chose towrite while he reads and Kellam would certainly be over the moon if you let himread your writings. Spending time with you like this just feels super relaxingand calming.

It’s through these casual moments Kellam spends with youthat he finds himself wanting to be with you more. Your voice is like music tohis ears and he falls into a stupor whenever he gets to listen to you actuallysinging because it seems like such a privilege to him. Seeing you smile neverceases to make him smile, and well, simply being around you is enough tobrighten his day. He’ll become a bit more protective of you, especially on thebattlefield and his lack of presence actually becomes useful. The enemieshardly take notice of him which lets him make sure you don’t get hurt. It mighttake Kellam some time to confess to you because he’ll worry about whether ornot you’d feel the same and if you don’t, he doesn’t want to ruin thefriendship between the two of you. When he does confess to you though, it’d bewhen the two of you are alone and he’s had ample time to prepare, filling theroom with your favourite scents and fairy lights beforehand, somehow thinkingthis will show you how serious he is about you.

Haikyuu!! - Yachi Hitoka

No one else in the class can top you in terms of reading and writing - well, maybe one. Yachi is usually often seen hunched over her desk, pencil scratching away at whatever she’s working on. You pass her a few times by chance and she’s drawing every time. As one of the managers for the volleyball team, she’s taken on the job to make posters to promote the team and you ask her if she needs any help. Since she doesn’t want to impose you, she refuses, insisting she can do everything on her own.

The others in the class know you as an amateur photographer as well and it’s because of this skill Yachi finally asks you for help. Many of her posters are made under the guidance of her mother and she wants to make one on her own for once, but she’s missing photos. She asks you to help her photograph the boys and you agree. By doing this, you get to know the volleyball guys better, but you stay closer to Yachi and follow her cues. Even after she has enough photos to work with, you still come around to ask her if she needs with anything else or joke around with the guys. In the end, you always wait for Yachi to walk home with her, talk about shared interests,, or inquiring about each other’s personal projects. You can tell Yachi has definitely opened up in the weeks you’ve worked with her.

Outside of school, the two of you are sometimes out together, either at the local cafe to talk, or at one another’s houses doing homework, Many times, you’ll take her to the bookstore or library and recommend her your favorite novels before shifting to the music section to let her hear your favorite songs. Yachi can definitely relate to your taste in books and she enjoys listening to the music you recommend her, although she isn’t much of a music fan. There are countless days when you two are simply talking, working out problems, offering solutions, or tackling challenges together.

Yachi isn’t the first to realize her feelings for you - the other guys spell it out for her. She becomes flustered and embarrassed whenever she talks to you, unsure how to act around you. When you try to ask what’s wrong, she ends up running away. You ask around and realize what the problem is. You end up having to corner Yachi in order to get the truth and she just breaks down and confesses her love for you. She’s always had feelings for you, but she never realized what they were until now. She wishes to be with you for as long as humanly possible and she’ll wait for you, if you aren’t ready. Fortunately for her, she wouldn’t have to wait for too long.

Assassination Classroom - Shiota Nagisa

You overlook Nagisa at first since he doesn’t seem to stand out. He’s mediocre at best, invisible, really. He’s a nice person, polite, and respectful, especially when you compare him to the others. He’s only decent in his studies, and no matter how much time he devotes to studying, his grades never seem to improve. You offer to help him out during class when they’re allowed free time and he accepts your help.

Nagisa is pretty imaginative so whenever you’re stuck with your writing, he always has ideas ready for you. He draws his ideas from the books he’s read, but he hasn’t read much lately due to him focusing on school. After he starts studying with you, he’s managed to find time to read and the two of you often discuss novels together. He’s respectful when disagreeing with your views and he often rewords his phrases to compromise. Getting him mad never results in a good conclusion.

In your free time, the two of you try to put the books away and head out somewhere together. Your favorite places include the library or bookstore, or Karma’s house so the three of you could play video games altogether. Karma is very understanding of your time together and ensures no one else interferes with your time with Nagisa. When you simply want to stay in, the two of you will be at your place, listening to music, playing games, or doing a little review because it’s never too late to start studying.

Karma has always considered you and Nagisa a couple and the rest of the class assumed that as well, even before you and Nagisa declare it yourselves. It sort of just happens and since neither of you have qualms being called a couple, it stays, and the two of you become free to get closer and more intimate as the weeks go by. You two end up being known as the class couple come graduation.