#somna <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ghost-proofbaby]

I shall chant it with you!

<3<3<3

THANK YOU SOMNA!!! i need them to get me with all those original vibes that made me fall in love with the show in season 1, that originally drew my attention in. not everything should be epic marvel levels and i feel like it’s something the entertainment industry just struggles to understand 😭

[runningupthatvecna]

guten morgen <3

for those I'd like 8. 11. and 14.

:3

aaaaaaah somnaaaaaa guten morgen and thank you for askinggg <3

8. do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home? i do, mainly because berlin is so filthy that i don't want to lay in bed or on my couch with my 'street clothes' haha. it's some baggy shirt and more comfortable pants or none at all lol.

11. anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?

a whole container of trauma, yeah. i have a teddy bear in my drawers. legend says someone gave that one to me when i was born. another plushie (which is a cute frog) and i still have a game boy from 1986 which belonged to my mother and my grandparents gifted that to me when i was like eight maybe, can't recall. it still functions which is cool and probably worth a fortune in a few years so i'm holding on to it for now hehe

14. do you think you’re dehydrated?

uh, yeah. i've always struggled with drinking enough, it's just that i consciously need to make the decision to drink sth, and most of the time i just forget ._. it's something i'm working on lol because water is life

[ghost-proofbaby]

hold on let me just wipe the tears from my eyes real quick so i can properly articulate all my very strong feelings about this

i wish i were joking, but i’m not. this genuinely made me sob, somna. when i first read pop rocks, it settled somewhere deep within my soul because i knew those feelings all too well. i’d been in that situation all too well. and i thought, hey, there’s no way they can make this more relatable!

and then you did.

as someone who has their own box of letters, this entire piece had me wanting to grab eddie as i screamed “MAIL THE FUCKING LETTERS!!! TELL THEM BEFORE ITS TOO LATE!!”. i feel as though i relived every youthful emotion i felt as i wrote my own letters — all the inner turmoil and all the contradictions of emotions that run rampant when you’re in this limbo of a situation.

you just. you made him so human. and that’s a weird and stupid thing to say, right? like no shit. yes he’s human. but i mean, those emotions you expressed, the way it felt genuinely like a letter written by this fictional man we adored, like a letter written by someone in this specific situation. i don’t know why the line about how he either gets sad or hard at sunsets stuck out because it made me laugh but also… same. not a sunset, but the feeling of nostalgia (in any form) that comes with certain things when a love is loss, and that terrible after wave of “oh, never mind. i lost it.” also the whole saturn comparison?

i’m rambling now but my point is i love this and i love you and now i’m just gonna cry myself to sleep. which is fine because it is an honor to cry myself to sleep over a masterpiece like this 😭🖤

Hi Sweetheart

Eddie Munson x gn!reader E 18+ || ao3

1.8k

This is a follow-up to Smoke and Cherry Pop Rocks taking place exactly one year after their first night together.

There is a 400ish word blurb preceding this that isn’t totally necessary to read, but will give a little more context and make this pull on your insides a little more.

CW ||demi!bi!Eddie, Roadie!Eddie, letter format: Eddie pov, angst, intense heartache, regrets, grief, mentions of sex with other people (no cheating), self-exploration, painful introspection, growing pains||

Hi Sweetheart

Do you know what day it is? Do you remember?

I’m watching the sun’s descent while having a smoke and I remember everything. 

It’s been a year now, one full fucking year, and the memories of you still haunt me I remember every little thing from the moment you walked out of the sinking sun like straight out of my daydreams.

It felt like the ground was shaking beneath me but I think it was just my heart dropping through my ass at the sight of you.

I never told you that I had been thinking about you that very moment, asking myself what the fuck I did wrong to make you say goodbye to me like that. With so much determination.

And I am not just talking graduation day, oooh no, I’m talking all the fucking time. Every time we hung out after I fixed your bike, when you left, you left me with something that felt like a small break-up. Like the end of something that never had a chance to really be something.

And I just couldn’t figure out why. Nothing made sense and the idea of asking scared the shit out of me because you never gave me the feeling of not being good enough and I was afraid to be proven wrong about that.    

So I was lying there on the deck in a nice warm pool of self-pity, rewinding the moment you vanished from my sight for the last time but in my mind, I pressed stop right before you could get away. And through the power of my imagination, you spun around and came back to me but before daydream-Eddie could say anything to daydream-you, real-you appeared out of fucking nowhere.

Felt a little like fate, if I’m totally honest.

And you know what? Instead of rejoicing with delight that I somehow managed to conjure you up out of dry, dusty air, I was terrified. Because I had enough of your goodbyes, all I thought I could take. Because in my mind, there was no scenario that wouldn’t end with me, alone in bed with a rock for a stomach after you left again.

Wondering why you just didn’t fucking want me when I was so sure we had something between us. (and oh wasn’t I right about that?)

Fuck.

And then you ramble and ramble, confusing the shit out of me before you ask me for a kiss?

Fuuuuck.

So yeah, I remember all of it. Remember the look on your face after that first kiss, so sweet and hot and in awe from k i s s i n g ME. I could feel my heart crawl up my throat with the intent of crawling down yours, using that moment to vanish between your pretty parted lips so that you had no way of walking away from me again. I remember feeling so high.

Fuck.

This sunset looks the same as ours, by the way. Just another cosmic cruelty. 

Because now, when I watch a sunset like this, I either get sad or hard. Right now, there’s a bit of both going on. Who am I kidding? Why hold back? It’s not like I’m actually going to send this letter. It’s another one for ‘the box’. I’m so fucking sad right now, sweetheart. Heartbroken, actually.

Because you won’t leave my mind. Your fingertips won’t leave my skin. I try to remember your voice all the time so it won’t fade from my memory the way your smell has left me. Replay the way you say my name when I make you laugh or cry or moan.

I called a girl by your name last month. Was sure she was going to slap me but the pity in her eyes when she put her clothes back on did the trick just as well.

I don’t think I’m particularly made for that one-night stand business. Am more of a ‘books, drugs and rock'n'roll’ guy. My crew says, it’s because I am still sulking about you, because I am idolizing you, turning you into a goddess and maybe they are right, I don’t fucking know, never been so in love before, have I?

But it doesn’t feel like they are right. 

I can’t describe it, really. It’s not like it’s bad or disgusting or whatever (the sex, I mean, in case that wasn’t clear) it just feels. Not right.

Yeah yeah I am so not sending this one, so I might as well…

Felix suggested (I told you about Felix on the phone, remember? We started the roadie adventure at the same time. He's hilarious.) I might swing the other way. He also offered himself to test that theory a few weeks ago and he’s cute and a good guy, so turns out I might swing both ways and it was kinda nice, no it was nice, but it still didn’t feel right.

So Felix suggested to stop thinking about it for a while and clear my head.

As this document and all the others recently tucked away in ‘the box’ can testify, it’s not going too well.

I hate thinking about you with other people and I hate thinking that there’s a possibility that you’re as miserable about this as I am but I also can’t stand the thought that you’re not thinking about me anymore. That you don’t miss me.

Can still hear you cry through the shitty sticky plastic receiver of that gas station pay phone and I hate that the last time I heard your voice it sounded so hollow and so small. Like I was calling you from Saturn and fuck me if it didn’t feel that way too.

And that is the whole gigantic fucking problem, isn’t it? That I’m not ready to come back to earth. That I love being on a new planet every other day with all those strange fucking aliens where I belong more than I ever did in the town I grew up in. I’m not reliable right now and no matter how much you told me it was okay that I called two days late or whatever it was I had to disappoint you with. It wasn’t. Wasn’t okay at all.

I’m glad you admitted as much when I called you to say goodbye.

It’s been seven months, one week and five days since that day. But it feels like forever. Remember I told you one day on the road can feel like three?

So much has happened in that year, so many new loud, bright, wild memories and still… You haven’t faded yet against any of them. I am blessed and cursed with the most vivid visions of you, just have to close my eyes to see you climbing on top of me, naked and sweaty and glorious. I just wish I could feel your palms on my chest pushing me back into the mattress. Your nails leaving little marks and

Fucking stop it, Eddie!!! Gonna end up crying with a boner…

Don’t want you to think it’s just about the fucking. It’s not. It’s just… with the date and all.

Fuck. We could have celebrated one year today.

I am playing with the thought of calling you, to ask you to try this long-distance thing (this constantly shifting distance thing) again. I almost called you before I picked up the pen. Am still thinking about calling you. Maybe after I am done getting all the fucking whining out of my system. I hope that’ll be soon, my hand is already cramping.

But it’s been months. More than half a year. I can’t just fucking call you like that, can I?

Wayne told me your mom told him you’ve been seeing someone.

He didn’t tell me more, despite me begging, despite knowing that I knew he knew more because I know that man and can tell when he’s trying to protect me.

What kind of a fucking asshole does it make me that I want to call you anyway? More, even?

That kind of asshole that found solace in the vision of knocking on your door one day, when I’m done with the circus, setting sun in my back and that stupid smile on my face you find so irresistible for reasons I can not comprehend.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

I just want to talk to you, wanna know how you are, what you're up to and

fuck I miss you.

I miss you and you're seeing someone and my chest aches like my heart did crawl down your throat a year ago and now has to watch you fuck a stranger being with someone else and I fucking did this to myself. And to you. To us.

And I want to take it back. I want you back. I want the privilege to call you at weird fucking times to have access to your thoughts again and tell you mine because there is so much left to say and make plans and make you horny and 

I want to know

I thought of taking time off. Pulling a: I was in town and thought we could catch up. But I bet you'd know the truth as soon as the lie leaves my mouth. I’d like to think I could play it cool when seeing you again, you know, but the way I feel right now, it would be a miracle if I could suppress the urge to just launch myself at you.

I want to know if the guy you're seeing treats you right and feed him to a Fell Beast if he doesn't. Piece by agonizing piece.

How long has this been going on? Long enough to push out memories of me? Or were those already faded when you met him? Do you compare him to me sometimes and am I doing good?

You know, there are whole days where I don’t think about you. I had a full month where I was sure I was getting over it, when we transitioned between bands and I had to get used to a different drill, different equipment, new people and all that every-day-roadie-shit.

Some days I want to smack my head to get you out of there. Smack it real hard to make sure that nothing stays behind so that you can’t slowly grow back into the cracks of my mind like weeds until I can’t see where I’m going.

I really only had you for two weeks and I am acting like we were married for two decades.

But what an outlook…

Sweetheart, is there a word for grieving things I never had?

The sun is gone now, by the way. I think I should leave my hiding spot and go back to my crew before they send a search party.

I bet you’d like the guys.

If I still want to call you tomorrow, I will.

general taglist:

@bettyfrommars @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @potthealien2423 @raccoonboywrites

@jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlak @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie

@chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @aphroditesbaby1616

@fracturedarkness @allthingsjoeq

interested people tags:

@howdidyouallgetinmyroom @tlclick73

[awkward-hugs]

The Sea Dragon "Somna", A sleepy beast who lives willingly in an aquarium, under magi-researchers close gaze. Once a fearsome civilization ender, the people of Toru figured out a rather nice agreement of providing offerings and comfortable living space in return for peace. Now if only they could find some way of directing the now dormant destructive capabilities to defend themselves...

[loetise]

i do believe in fairies, i do, i do. i do believe in fairies, i do, i do ( if we say this enough times will she be a solo-blog girlie again asking for a friend )

PIHOUGYIWFDTUCGVHBNPOJIEHWUGYFVCHKBLONWC

[urhoneycombwitch]

rommate thoughts

getting up early in the morning to go to the bathroom and the world slows down down down to a viscous quality when you pass your roommate's door... are they still asleep? or will you bear witness to early morning noises? and what story will tell you? the sharp clicking and clacking of hurried dressing and rushed getting ready? lazy yawns and rustling sheets as they turn around for ten more minutes? maybe soft singing to shoo some lingering nightmares away? or other... soft things?

you know? <3

foreword: oh, Somna. I needed this softness today. this one goes out to those who might need it, too <3

cw: mentions of prescription drugs and weed

wc: 1.2k

___

When the last of the summer sun slips behind the edge of the city, you and Eddie open all the windows in the apartment.

Moving with practiced fluidity, you slide the little window above the sink into place, the larger one by the breakfast nook gets the same treatment; Eddie’s tall enough to reach the hand crank for the pane overlooking the shower, then ducks into both of your rooms to undo the last two latches. 

You talk the whole time, exchanging laughter and comments even on opposite ends of the apartment. Cool night air floods the whole space, lush and floral from the hydrangea bush on the ground floor. This is the only ritual that makes sleeping in the summer months bearable. 

Some nights, Eddie rolls up and you choose the record, legs slung over each other laps, talking over the hazy smoke and crooning speakers. Others, you get takeout and watch whatever’s good on TV, Eddie’s legs making the perfect lean-to for your back. 

Some nights, you fall asleep on the couch- when this happens, come morning, there’s always a blanket tucked carefully around your form. Others, Eddie’s the first to drop- cheek smushed to your thigh, snoring lightly. You’re always gentle with him, rubbing his shoulder to get him up and in the comfort of his own bed, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walk him down the hall.

Last night, both of you turned in early. Eddie’s got a bad case of allergies, and you were tired from work, so you took your respective medicine and leave, evening ritual shortened and performed apart with just the bedroom windows.

In the morning, the air of your room is still cool. Birds twitter with the rise of the sun. Soon, it will be time to close everything up, to keep the temperature down and the summer heat out. For now, you yawn, stretch, kick your way out of the comforter, and pad down the hall.

Eddie’s door is slightly ajar. His room is dark, but you can just make out the tangle of his curls on his pillow, sheets tucked under his chin covering the length of his body. You move on carpeted footsteps, approaching bedside with quiet intention.

Without his eyes on you, it’s easier to indulge, taking your time to drink in his sleeping face. You sink to your knees beside the head of the bed for a better look- in the muted morning light peeking through his blackout curtains, Eddie looks peaceful. 

His normal is theatrics, raised brows, sweeping expressions that draw you in and ebb like tides. In dreamland, he looks years younger, smoothed brow and lips parted slightly, breathing steady and sure. 

“Hey.” It’s barely a whisper. You pair it with a soft touch just under his bangs, skimming your fingertip across his forehead. “Eddie. Gonna wake up?”

He must have taken Benadryl last night- he’s usually first to wake, tapping on your door with breakfast options and being a hurricane of noise until you’re forced to join the party. 

You have the simple joy of watching Eddie’s face as he returns to you, to the waking world- a twitch of his lip, a couple of long, slow blinks. Consciousness crawls to the surface, leaves him rosy-cheeked and frowning, chasing your hand with his temple like a puppy.

You lay your fingers flat to his skull, thumb at the indent of his nose, and Eddie sighs, content. His eyes flutter shut again when you speak again. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm.” The sheets shift as he lifts a heavy arm to stretch over his head, revealing a bare torso littered with ink. “Z’you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good. ‘M gonna… get up ‘n make breakfast…” His words are clunky, slurred and stuck to each other, lids heavy with sleep still. 

From the floor, you sink a bit lower, scratching softly at the back of his head, grinning with amusement. “I don’t think you’re allowed to operate a stove while under the influence.”

His frown deepens, but he won’t make it stick, not for any length of time around you. Faux-upset ebbs, recedes, floods into a tired smile that takes up half his face. “Uh-huh. Might burn my eyebrows off. Would you still love me?”

Pretending to give it some serious thought, your hand slides down, a familiar weight at the side of his neck. “Hmm. Maybe we should stick to cereal today.”

“Asshole,” Eddie replies, fond and trying to draw out the jokes, sliding his own hand to your wrist to keep it in place. “What the hell. Can’t a guy lose his brows in peace?”

“We’ve got Cheerios, Golden Crisp, Cocoa Puffs-” Your valiant attempt to keep on track is overturned when Eddie tugs at your wrist with a whine.

“Christ. My brain is soup, maybe you can eat that ‘nd it’ll tide you over until I can move.” More insistent now, Eddie pulls at your elbow, then your upper arm, your other hand snapping out to brace on his mattress before you tip. “Jus’... lay with me for a bit.”

Closer now, your breath fanning over his ear as he pulls and you give your last bit of resistance- “You’re wearing boxers, right?”

“Jesus. You really think I’d subject you to the Morning Wood Show?”

“Okay.” You don’t sound half as exasperated as you’d like, moving with the help of his gravity; you sidle close to the wall, lying on your side and over the covers, propping your head up with one arm. “This bed really wasn’t made for two people.”

“Sure it is.” Eddie reaches for you again, and you go easy, let him pull you to his chest. Under your ear, his heart thumps, whooshing like a seashell that’s captured the sounds of the ocean. “See? Now will you kindly shut up. I’ve got meds to sleep off.”

“Coffee would help.” It’s a baiting tease. You don’t actually want to get up- far too comfy with the curve of his bicep across the blades of your shoulders. With your nose pressed to the hollow of his throat, you can smell everything that his skin has kept overnight- faded cologne, bar soap, sweat and earthy sleep.

“Shhhhutthefuckup before I eat your brains.” He already sounds like a faded version of himself, rasp lowering into that pre-dream tone. For comedic effect, Eddie opens his jaw to press the outline of his teeth to the crown of your scalp.

It makes you tremble with giggles, burrowing further into his body to get away. He soothes a palm down your back, and you settle again. 

Under your ear, his heart beats slower, then slower still, until you can feel the rumble of a snore build. Your lashes brush against his bare skin, lulled by the stillness of the room, the shared warmth of your bodies even through the layers of fabric.

When late morning arrives, you’ll make the coffee, and Eddie will do the dishes. For now, the air stays cool and ushers in the sort of slumber that only comes from sharing space with someone precious. 

[nevver]

Somna, Tula Lotay & Becky Cloonan

[librarycomic]

Somna: A Bedtime Story by Beckly Cloon and Tula Lotay. DSTLRY, 2024. 9781962265010. 168pp. Contains #1 - #3. Publisher's Rating: Mature

Roland is the town bailiff in a small English village where he has developed a reputation as a witch hunter. His relationship with his wife, Ingrid, is distant, and he's often away from her because of his duties. Ingrid has started to have erotic dreams, visions that seem supernatural and that feature a handsome man who is clearly not human. He offers her the sexual pleasure she craves. Is he a demon? Does this make her a witch? As she invites him into her dreams (and her life) she finds out a friend is having an affair. With everyone ready to blame witches for their misfortune, it feels like something disastrous is likely to befall her friend and perhaps Ingrid, too. And then there's a murder, which raises tensions and suspicions as Ingrid's husband returns home.

Cloonan and Lotay both illustrate the graphic novel; their artistic styles create amazing contrasts between the dreamlike scenes involving Ingrid and her supernatural lover (illustrated by Lotay) and everyday life in the English village (illustrated by Cloonan). This is one of the best historical graphic novels I've ever read, it's easily my favorite graphic paranormal romance, and it's an example of how amazing comics can be. Pick up a copy even if paranormal romance isn't your thing -- I don't read much of it, either, but this book is fantastic.

[pickled-dice]

I’ve been playing around with the idea of multiple planes in my worlds Iris and Iron, inspired by both D&D and Warhammer.

Basically, here’s how my planes work (for now, I’m still workshopping it). There are 3 planes, Terra, Somna, and Patha.

Terra, the Plane of Earth, is where all the shit happens. All the wars, all the farming, all the people. Basically, it is the normal place, it is the plane of action.

Somna, the Plane of Sleep, is where all thought coalesces. You have an idea, it’s somewhere in Somna, might not be super powerful or tangible cause you’re just one person, but its somewhere. Faith takes root here too. Celestial creatures are born here from the faith of the religion that spawned them.

Patha, the Plane of Magic, is where emotion reigns supreme. Much like the Warp in Warhammer, emotion takes its form here. This is where your elementals and your demons and other spirits first form.

These 3 planes aren’t like, separate worlds, they’re all the same world in essence. Terra is like the body of the world. Somna is like the mind of the world. And Patha is like the soul of the world.

At least that’s how it is in Iris. Iron doesn’t have Somna or Patha. Patha sprung a leak from Iris into Fate’s next world over, Iron. This caused Iron to start growing its own Patha, and more slowly, it’s own Somna. Now this caused all the monsters and magic and shit to start appearing in Iron. And it’s only gonna get worse (or better, depends on how you look at it). Because as Iron’s Patha grows, magic (the Rot as they call it) spreads and becomes more potent until eventually, it’ll equalise and be just as magically potent as Iris.

This process is only expedited due to the worldwide war(s) in Iron. Tensions are high, emotions are high, which just build Patha faster. And as Patha gets built, it makes a staging ground for Somna to grow.

Who knows, sometime soon, the gods might return.

[comicsandrecords]

Somna 1-3

[starryknight-dragonarts]

Cherry Gender: Female Background: Cherry's species are a distant descendant of the ancient Tannin Luminous and Cerebral branch species, crossed with a different dragon race native to the Eastern Continent. The Ancient Tannin did not have Elemental powers but had adaptations based on the element they were influenced by. Cherry is a former noble whose family holdings were lost during a recent uprising. Unlike most of her fellow nobles she sided with the rebels, in most part due to having a close relationship with one rebel in particular. She’s often credited with keeping members of her cell from fighting and was responsible for some of the more daring tactics during the war. After the revolution she helped restructure the government, and her love feel like he belongs, eventually marrying him. Personality: Cherry is free spirited and doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind. She is very playful and quite mischievous. It’s easy for her to get people to like, but she does have a certain venom and sass to her that she rarely shows, though may let out a glimpse to potential rivals who she perceives as trying to steal her husband. Strengths: Reliable, Loyal, free spirited Weaknesses: Jealous, non-confrontational, very free spirited Powers: Dream breath, Dream weaving Stats Stamina: 6/10 She doesn’t use her powers as much as she should. Thus her stamina has weakened quite a bit. Control: 9/10 She hasn’t quite reached the full potential of a Somna dragon but her ability to manipulate dreams is magnificent. Intelligence: 8/10 She has a good education and good understanding of social situations. However she’s not exactly quick to learn and can be a bit dense at times. Combat Ability: 3/10 Without backup she is terrible in a fight. The only reason she’s not lower I due to her dream breath being very good in combat and she has the good sense to avoid it.

[smashpages]

Somna #3 (DSTLRY, March 2024) variant covers by Emma Ríos, Anwita Citriya and Pernille Ørum

[runningupthatvecna]

somna. how dare you write about me like that.

i don't have a balcony but below my apartment there's a neighbour who smokes. this felt persönlich. danke for sharing your beautiful brain with us <3

now i want that neighbour to be eddie and this will be all i can think about for the foreseeable future

One of my neighbors likes to smoke weed on their balcony and despite me having no idea who that person is, it's comforting when it gets warmer outside and my window is open more often and I can smell them smoke. It's like a little daily ritual, always at the same time.

I like to imagine they feel the same about my incense smoke wafting out of my window; a little sandalwood greeting. Although I don't have fixed times for that. anyway.

now make it an Eddie meet cute or something

[f-rg-tmigej]

> Photo dump <

1. Hösten börjar göra sig synlig. Ännu är det väl grönt bakom, men den är på igång. Som varje år såklart men det här året känner jag mig inte redo ännu. Vill inte ha den överdrivna sommar-värmen och är stundtals trött på solljuset men i år kommer jag sakna sommaren. Den kändes alldeles för kort.

2. Kli på magen är paralyserande skönt 😵‍💫Tassarna åker upp och ibland kan man hinna somna.

3. 800 grader Pizza Södermalm

4. Rigi” Choklad. Hur ofta äter man den? Typ aldrig och därför blev jag så otroligt sugen på en och var tvungen att påminnas om smaken. Jag ÄLSKAR choklad.

5. Bio-tajm med hunny Bunny <3 Köpte liten popcorn och ångrade mig. Det fastnar på tok för mycket emellan tänderna!

6. Candy grapes och Takis-gurka 🤤

7. Illustrerar vad jag önskar göra. Sitta på en altan, dricka vin, röka och snacka hela natten. Endast kvinnor emellan såklart.

8. Nami-tur in till stan. Man får ha tungan rätt i mun och vara försiktig då det är fullt på vägarna in. Men det är kul och intressant helt klart. Man blir en bra/bättre förare genom att öva på dessa typ av sträckor.

9. Så sant. Man är starkare än vad man tror.

10. Trött morgon-selfie. Dåligt ljus men bra tjej 👧🏼 kvinna tant kärring käring?

11. Hos veterinären för koll utav tanden. Det skulle visa sig att puplan var blottad och en framtida rotfyllning kommer att göras.

[maxeine-txt]

TAG GAME DU RPG

règles du jeu : créer un nouveau billet en copiant-collant les questions ci-dessous, y répondre, puis tagger d'autres rpgistes !

Au début, j'avais un peu la flemme. Puis, j'ai reçu un deuxième tag (merci @timuschaos et @dynamiiiight <3). Au pire, comme j'suis un peu nouvelle dans les parages, ça fera une introduction à ce qu'il y a dans ma tête.

Depuis combien de temps fais-tu du rp? — 6 piges, je crois ? Plus ou moins. Et ça fait qu'un peu plus d'une année que je traine sur les forums.

Quel était le premier personnage que tu as créé? — Pallas, ado devenue trop vite adulte ; directrice d'une cathédrale vivante, peut lire dans ta te-tê et broder littéralement les émotions. Elle est sous les traits de Steffy Argelich et aujourd'hui, c'est la protagoniste de mon premier roman (oops).

Quels sont les faceclaims que tu utilisais souvent à tes débuts? — Mes fcs sont toujours équivoque à un perso dans ma tête. Mais je rejoue tout le temps les mêmes persos (et puis c'est encore mes débuts, j'étais sur de l'illustré avant d'arriver sur forum) ; du coup : Kate Snap & Anna Somna, mon duo de fc que je traine partout.

Y a-t-il un genre/univers dans lequel tu n'aimes pas du tout rp? — Le medfan, la fantaisie un peu (un certain univers avec des sorciers aussi) ; j'suis plus dystopie, cyberpunk, goudron, néon, "are you lonely? let me fix that".

Quelles sont les dynamiques entre personnages/types de liens que tu aimes le plus? — Les romances, les trucs durs qui finissent bien. Les familles choisies, les fratries qui essaient de survivre entre eux. Oh, et les figures paternelles pour mes persos. J'aime bien les trucs un peu tristes qui tendent vers le mieux. J'écris jamais de bad ending.

Dans quels fandoms ou univers aimes-tu le plus rp? — Mon petit rêve, c'est d'ouvrir un forum dans l'univers de The Last Of Us. J'ai déjà tout dans ma tête, j'ai même commencé à faire le graphisme. Mais j'sais pas coder mdrr. Sinon, comme j'ai dit plus haut ; cyberpunk, dystopie. Oh et j'adore les conneries avec des super-pouvoirs (que ce soit plus vibe Miss Peregrine ou carrément du capepunk).

Un personnage que tu ne joues plus actuellement mais que tu aimerais reprendre? — Niamh, une ex trop jeune taularde qui peut parler aux morts. Du coup, elle gagne sa vie en se la jouant GussDX. Sous les traits de Sophie Thatcher.

Y a-t-il des archétypes de personnages que tu joues souvent? — Des meufs qui peuvent être ton daron. Plein de défauts. Crades ; plein de poils sur les jambes et plein de tatouages sur les bras. Sinon, je parle souvent de trucs que j'ai vécu. J'ai un aspect assez thérapeutique et cathartique avec l'écriture et le RP. Donc ; je parle souvent quand on confond la faim et une envie de fumer, quand ta chambre à coucher c'est le canapé des potes, quand ta caboche c'est pas ta meilleure pote.

Y a-t-il un livre ou un écrit autre qui t'as beaucoup influencé·e pour écrire? — Le rap français. Même les textes autotunés qu'on juge comme pas bien écrit parce que ça sort pas de l'Académie Française (promis, on a capté que le "p" dans rap ça voulait dire poésie). Mon Hugo à moi, c'est Wallace Cleaver et sa mélancolie. Ma Voltairine de Cleyre, c'est Asinine et sa female rage. Mon Rimbaud, c'est l'autotune de Selug et $enar. Mon Camus, c'est Okis et ses réfs de foot.

Une recommandation pour finir (livre, film, ou pourquoi pas un forum)? — L'album Le plus beau des Monstres de Surprise. Ma rappeuse préférée avec Asinine, j'me reconnais énormément dans ces textes. Oh et L'INVERSE pour mon son préféré. Allez, hop, hop, on soutient les meufs dans l'industrie et on va écouter.

Putain, c'est qu'elle débite la conne.

☞ je tague : @byzantium-pearl @frierenart @montmarays + ceux qui veulent, hein ; soyez pas timide.

[simmie-stories]

Gen 3. Aurora #34 The Catacombs

The family headed to Tartosa to visit the White Legacy cemetery.

Sim Cemetary & Catacombs by EA ID sambamsims. I couldn't figure out how to get rid of the spring decor :(

"This is where everyone in our legacy is laid to rest."

"These are your grandparents. They died when I was young, but they gave me the happiest childhood memories."

Ella took Aurora to visit their memorial. "Your grandmother Snow loved to cross-stitch. I guess I took after her a little, since I loved to knit." "Oh yes, the knits! I played with Claire the Bear and Yarny all my life, but about that sweater...." "Did you like it? It was my masterpiece." "..."

"These were my grandparents on my father's side... your great-grandparents and Uncle Soren, who was the King of Tartosa before he passed."

"And these are Grandma Snow's parents, the Queen and King of the Bramblewood. They loved to cross-stitch too."

"Your oldest uncle Doug and his wife both Ashley died of old age, but it was so tragic. Their eldest two daughters died in accidents. They have one living daughter, Krysta."

"My favorite sister Joy and her husband Taylor. Joy was electrocuted when their 4 kids were young. You'll meet them at your celebration."

Aurora's cousin Noe Bianchi happened to be at the catacombs visiting his parents, who had died of old age. Shylee had been the longest living of the 7 "dwarfs."

"N-nice to meet you."

"Uncle Hayden was quite accomplished. Both him and his wife died elderly, but Uncle Hayden's twin Raphael died by falling from a cliff when he was 50. Another tragic end. He hadn't ever gotten married."

"Uncle Dwight and Aunt Somna were the musical ones in the family. In fact, Aunt Somna was an award-winning violinist! Both died in their old age as well."

"I can't believe I had this many Uncles and Aunts, and I never got to meet them." *Pained silence* "We will meet some of your other cousins at your welcoming banquet."

I hope I can keep this up for the whole legacy... Love @ravasheencc Sims Portrait maker and Photographic Memory 2.0 mods; makes it so much easier to do this! L. was going around collecting urns every time we got a notice of death.

The family took an awkward family photo on their way out.

@theroyalsims Awesome Foursome pose

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