#therealgchu

[therealgchu]

super long OC ask

thanks, @fangbangerghoul for the ask! whee, i love these!

for min:

appearance #18 Does your character have a favorite outfit?

nope. whatever is clean and practical. the only mirror on her ship is in the bathroom, too. she pretty much only has tank tops, cargo pants, and work boots. that will come up later in a discussion. of sorts (sam asks why she always looks like a long haul space trucker with a bad aurora habit).

objects #12 Does your character personify objects?

no, that whimsy died lifetimes ago. though, she still saves plushies, but doesn't name them anymore.

food and drink #10 What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

plain white rice. simple, easy, calorie dense, pair with simple veggies and protein, makes a complete meal.

weather and nature #6 Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

she does, indeed. it's one of the reasons she's out beyond settled space. maybe she'll get some of that old spark back. we'll see..

[eliteseven]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

Oooh how cool, thank you!!!

1. My friends! Both online and otherwise!

2. Spring!!! The weather, everything is in bloom, days are longer!! 🪻🌸

3. BG3 at the moment! But we all knew that 😅

4. Playlists! I have a bunch of new writing inspo playlists, courtesy of suggestions here, AND @order-of-the-eye ever so kindly made a Stellar Collision playlist so I am LIVING 🥹

5. Random but I found one (1) instance of Tav speaking in a cutscene on a play-through and that made me incredibly happy lol

[silent-moons-camp]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

a good nap

creating

taking my dog on a walk

my cats flopping over onto their side

tank tops on hot days

[atonalginger]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

my bed. it's soft and warm and always there for me

tea

art books

my friends

music

[esorydoolb]

which type of writer are you?

stealing this from a post by @/defeatistwriter

take this quiz

tag people: @salstray @therealgchu @sehrgefaelltmir @solivagantingrebel (if you want to only ofc) and anyone who wants to try it ~

[bearlytolerant]

Same cute picrew with Vergado and Shepcoe from Starfield.

Gonna tag starfield friends to show theirs (no obligations per usual though!) @atonalginger @therealgchu @silurisanguine @eridanidreams @aro-pancake @order-of-the-eye @toxiclizardwrites @staticpallour (if you wanna do Mathis) and @aislingdmdt

[eridanidreams]

Snippet Sunday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson and @constellation-2330

Yes, I have a snippet today! While I work on finishing up the current chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand, here's something I was inspired to write the other day, from a future chapter.

Sam put his hand to the door and hesitated, reluctance rolling off him in waves. Cait laid a hand on his arm. "Love," she said softly, "we don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I don't," he admitted. "But... gettin' married here is kind of a Coe tradition." He let out a little huff. "Which is why I _didn't_ marry Lillian here." He gave her a wry little smile. "Bad luck, that. Or so goes the family tradition."

Cait couldn't quite keep the skepticism out of her voice. "You think that's why..." she trailed off, aware she was treading on shaky ground; fortunately, Sam just chuckled.

"No, darlin', I think things didn't work out with Lillian because it was never meant to be. You, though—" he wrapped his free arm around her and gave her a quick kiss. "Feel like I used up all my luck finding you. Not sure I want to push it any further." He let out another sigh. "Might also be nice to make some _good_ memories here. Make it feel like a home again."

"Okay, then." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I've got your back, you know?"

"Always," he reassured her, and pushed the door open.

Jacob was truculent as ever. "I wanted to see my granddaughter, not your... latest fling." his growl trailed off as he saw Sam's arm wrapped around Cait.

"Latest fling?" Cait said lightly, before the stress fracturing Sam's spirit could flash into anger. "That's nicer than 'Constellation lackey,' if not by much." She looked up at her lover as if Jacob weren't even there. "Sam, what does a lackey do anyway? Sarah didn't cover that in my orientation."

"'Cause you're way too much of a smartass to make a good lackey," Sam replied, just as lightly. The tension inside him released enough to let him find a semblance of his usual good humor. His arm tightened briefly around her waist as she sensed his brief flash of gratitude.

"Well," she said cheerily, "that just makes me perfect for you, doesn't it?"

Sam chuckled again, but quickly grew serious. While he wasn't as acidly angry as he usually was when talking to Jacob, there was no give in his voice or face. "The phrase you're looking for is _future wife_."

Shock flashed through Jacob, a bolt of lighting that burned through his usual sour resentment to wake something colder, sharper. "I would hope," Cait said gently, in an attempt to divert his usual vitriol, "that whatever else might lie between the two of you, you could be happy for Sam."

"Happy?" Jacob's eyes widened incredulously. "You expect me to be happy to see *my son* tricked into wedlock by some half-alien tramp?"

Sam's jaw set; his whole body tensed, and his rage roiled down her tie to him in a molten tide. Before he could say anything, Cait pivoted to put herself between the two men. She met Sam's eyes—whatever he saw in hers sent a shock of worry through the anger. She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. "Sam," she said, as levelly as she could manage, "Why don't you go meet Cora down at Sinclair's, maybe go for some Chunks? I'll call you when I'm ready to head back to the ship." Sam didn't argue the point; he paused in the doorway just long enough for her to pick up the complicated knot of emotions—anger, frustration, resignation, even a little savage satisfaction—then let the door fall closed behind him. Cait turned to face the room's other occupant.

"Don't think I'll spare your feelings just because he's not here to run interference for you," Jacob growled. Despite the assurance in his voice, he was anything but confident. She smelled his uncertainty like an ashta scenting blood.

"He doesn't need to worry about what you might do to me," Cait said dismissively. "I can handle a bitter old man like you in my sleep." She looked around the living room with the air of one who found it distinctly wanting. Just to make sure she'd seen what she'd thought she had… and the confirmation shredded the leash of her temper. She whipped her head back around to face him. "Tell me," she snarled, "what kind of father goes to these kind of lengths to make sure his son *forgets his mother's face?*"

"He needed to see the reality of the situation," Jacob said dismissively. "Better that he didn't have any unnecessary reminders."

"What you mean," she hissed, putting words to the emotions that writhed serpentine beneath his skin, "is that you didn't want to be reminded that she betrayed you. She left you alone. And you gave up *so much*. Respect. Influence. Power. After all, the government needed a Coe at the helm, didn't it?"

"That's right." He got up in her face, trying to stare her down. "Not that you would *understand* that kind of responsibility. God knows my son never did."

"He was never a son to you," she lashed back. "He was just a vessel for your ambitions. Grooming him to be your successor without a thought or a care as to what he wanted."

"It wasn't his *place* to want!" Jacob's face reddened. "I am his *father*. It was his job to sit down and do what he was told. Just like I did when I was his age."

"Lucky for you Sam doesn't think that way." Cait met his glare, knowing that her eerie gaze disturbed him—for once, she was not at all upset by it. He was the one to look away. "The *only* reason you've been getting time with Cora is because she wants it. And you have me—yes, the 'half-alien tramp'—to thank for that." He opened his mouth to say something; she just kept going. "Don't bother—I know just how much you'd mean it." She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. "Make no mistake, Jacob Coe, if I even get a *whiff* that you've done something to hurt that little girl, Sam won't find out about it, because I will take you apart myself."

Jacob paled and took a step back. "She's my *granddaughter*. I wouldn't—"

"I've seen what you did to your *son* because he wasn't what you wanted him to be. Forced him into a mold that didn't suit him. Belittled him with every breath. Made sure he *knew* he would never be good enough for you." Cait advanced on him. "I've stood right beside him, multiple times, listening to you spit your bile right into his face. You treat him like ashta crap, and you still expect him to lick your boots."

"If you can't show your worst side to your family, who _can_ you show it to?" he sneered.

The dark, dangerous part of her coiled up from the back of her mind at the thought of how much, and how badly, this man had damaged her Sam, and the barest wisp of it seeped into her voice. "Try the mirror." He actually flinched away from her. "Understand this, old man. You are not dealing with just Sam anymore. So keep a civil tongue in your head." Her eyes bored into his; he stared back as if caught in a basilisk's gaze. Her voice was deadly soft. "You don't want me to think you're a danger to my family." Before she could be tempted to say anything worse, she pulled her eyes away from his.

Jacob half-staggered back with the sudden release. "Is—is that a threat?" He tried to regain his usual bluster, but it was a threadbare cover over his sudden fear.

"A promise." Cait gave him a thin, ironic smile. "And a soon-to-be-Coe keeps her promises."

His hands curled into fists at his side, impotent fury sizzling through him, replacing the fear on his face. "I don't know what you did to get your hooks into my son, but—"

"I love him." Cait cut him off. "That simple." She laughed, but there was no real humor in it. "You have no damned idea what a gem you threw away." She tilted her head at a sudden thought. "Of course you wouldn't. You may have sired him, Jacob, but in every way that matters, Sam is *Solomon's* true son. You? You're just a petty, shriveled bureaucrat coasting on the laurels of your famous ancestor."

She turned and walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the frame. Over her shoulder, she said, "Détente, or war to the knife. Your decision." Without waiting for his reply, she stepped out into the Akila rain.

[fangbangerghoul]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Tagged the other day by @roguishcat Sorry this is so late I turned off my notifications at the start of my semester. I've been really stressed lately.

When did you start writing?

Kindergarten. Jk. Um...fanfiction? 2007/08? It was personal writing with a friend in a bunch of notebooks. Didn't start posting till 2022 when The Batman came out. (dont look into this fact)

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I almost exclusively read Vampire/fantasy Romance. So, there is a difference. There have been a few books outside of that category I tackle but its normally related to my college work. I do think those horror/goth themes seep into my writing.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I do not think my writing has been compared to any other writing, at least not to me directly. I do really love the world building Charlaine Harris created. It is so lovely and to be able to write such an addicting 13 book series is something I hope to achieve as well.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I'm lazy so here's a picture:

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

It used to be absorbing other content by other artists but lately I couldn't tell you. I've been considering quitting writing for some time because I just don't enjoy it as much as I was.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Yes, angry violent woman. No it does not surprise me. There have been some themes of sexual assault and abandonment. Also doesn't surprise me.

What is your reason for writing?

Community. When I started writing in 2007/08 it was with a friend and the comradery filled a need I didn't have. I started again last year and found some community. It was great for the time being. Now I am not sure. I know most people say you should write for yourself but being a depressed person since the age of 9 it hard to center yourself like that. Another reason I am thinking about just quitting for some time at least till I find that spark again or reason.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

When the parts I had the most fun writing get complimented. I also appreciate the comments that pull favorite quotes. They are really wholesome and make me feel like my writing is appreciated.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I am okay with being the writer of the story that lives rent free in the back of your mind because it had such a mind-blowing event. Or maybe just a story that is thought of fondly occasionally.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Perhaps character psychology?

How do you feel about your own writing?

Right now, I am not my biggest fan but that's okay. I really wish I had a more poetic approach to writing or at least better with descriptions. I worry sometimes my writing is all events and no emotion.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Though my reason for writing is community at the end of the day when I can write I try to focus on stories I will enjoy or need to get off my chest. There have been a few fics in the past I wrote solely for mutuals, and I do not mind doing that because it brings me a lot of joy to create for others.

(I know some of the answers may have sounded a little sad. I want to clarify I am not looking for sympathy this is just truly how I feel at the time being and that is okay. I am okay with it.)

Tagging with no obligation:

@bearlytolerant @interplanet--janet @staticpallour @lisa-and-shadow @therealgchu

@soloavengers @arisenreborn @dryad-of-the-dogwood @eridanidreams @kimberbohwrites

[sailor-kaiju]

SNIPPET SUNDAY…

And by Sunday I mean Tuesday.

@therealgchu tagged me! Right now I’m working on July (opps) and August’s pin design for Patreon. July was…a lot.

July is a Cactus Cat and August is Capybara’s!! These are available on @atomicpixies patreon!

[silurisanguine]

thanks to @therealgchu for the tag. It's still Sunday somewhere, so here's a snippet from next chapter of my Mass Effect Andromeda Reyder fic - The Hidden King Upon His mountain.

Cora went to one of her plants as the doors closed behind them, spraying the leaves with a mist as she tilted her head to the pathfinder. “I hear you’ve done well Ryder. The vault is active and the planet is on it’s way to being viable.” “That’s what I’m about to let the Nexus know yeah.” Aeryn played with a leaf protruding from the side of one of the bays waiting for Cora to say what she really wanted to say. “And I hear you’ve made... allies in Kadara.” “Friends.” “Friends? From what Peebee was saying, it seems a little more than that.” Ryder leant back against a crate in frustration at the ship gossip as Cora turned to face her, her arms resting casually back on the counter. She didn’t seem pissed which was surprising to Aeryn, who tried to hide a little blush she could feel, giving away her feelings. “Typical Peebee...Look I-” “I trust you Ryder. you are the Pathfinder and I have your back, I’m not going to say anything about what you do with your private life. Just...be careful. Can you trust him?” Ryder wanted to instantly say yes, but she knew Reyes was hiding something from her. She always knew when people were, even if she couldn’t tell what it was. Her father hiding the reasons he got so heavily involved in the Initiative, that were now coming out through his memory triggers was one. She knew Reyes had something he was afraid to say. She couldn’t blame him though, after all she was carrying secrets she wasn’t going to tell him yet...if ever. But she felt she could trust him even with that because everyone kept secrets. Deep down in her gut, she knew he’d have her back and wouldn’t betray her. “I do. I also know the baggage that comes with getting involved with an exile, but he wants to help and has been invaluable so far.” That answer was enough for Cora’s shoulders to relax a little as she smiled at her Pathfinder. “That’s all that matters then. I do want to meet him though, I hear he is quite handsome.”

[therealgchu]

super long OC ask part deux

thanks for the ask, @esorydoolb! gimme more!

this is for min

clothing #3 Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

she'd love to be taller. she's very short.

clothing #7 Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

no. for starters, koreans with curly hair is unusual, and 2, her brain doesn't work like that. i don't think she's ever even thought of trying to look like someone.

food & drink #6 Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

nope. she aggressively doesn't care about what anybody thinks, especially when it comes to food.

community & relationships #5 Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

originally Vasco, being he's the only other sentient life around. now, sam since he's traveling with her. though, it would be VERY grudgingly.

community & relationships #8 How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

< 0. she's not real good with the interpersonal relationships, unless it involves getting close enough to a person to stealth kill them.

[lisa-and-shadow]

Ok this DnD character quiz was enlightening and I feel seen and attacked quite honestly.

The quiz is here.

I'm the smartest, least charismatic bard ever. 😭🤣 It feels right honestly.

Tagging @staticpallour @atonalginger @eridanidreams @silurisanguine @a-cosmic-elf @warlock-enthusiast @therealgchu @fangbangerghoul and anyone else who wants to play 💜💜💜

[atonalginger]

Snippet Sunday

It's still Sunday in my head so it's Sunday...that's how it works, right?

Thank you for the tags, @therealgchu and @eridanidreams

this is from the party fic with Doc Melody flexing her powers...for reasons 😅

__

“You?” “Oh yes,” Jamie reached out and took Rosa’s hand. Before Rosa could pull away she snapped her fingers again and time slowed around them. Rosa gasped and looked around as everyone seemed to be frozen in time. Jamie ignored her panic and continued talking, “I know you had no idea whose toes you were stepping on when you started and why should you? To the casual observer I’m just some backwater hick who clawed my way out of the savanna and into the Core. Got in good with the most influential family in the Freestar and coasted off Jacob’s favor? Someone who deserved to be knocked back down a few pegs, back where I belonged. Sound about right?” “How did you…” “You thought you were in control, didn’t you?” Jamie stepped closer, sensing the shift back to natural time, “in truth, we hold all the cards. I could ruin you in a heartbeat.”

[esorydoolb]

WIP Game ✍️

Rules: make a new post and share 1-2 sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context – Let your followers guess!

thank you @therealgchu for the tag 🥰

these are 2 wips from last year that I kinda put on hiatus, which makes me sad because I'd love to finish these projects if I can.

His heart, the part of him that was still a nomad, knew what he had to do. And that part grew stronger as his brain was losing the fight to the biochip. 

The invitation to meet here at the bar had come from him as well, if Basti wasn’t mistaken. Dressed in a turquoise tank top and various pearl necklaces that shimmered in a colorful palette around his collarbones, he was sitting awfully close to his friend, his neck tilted in a titillating picture, lips pressed too close to Mario’s ear, moving to the lyrics of a song only the two of them were aware of.

tagging (no pressure) @sehrgefaelltmir @salstray @leonsliga

[bearlytolerant]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Thank you @fangbangerghoul @soloavengers @staticpallour and @therealgchu for the tags!

Apathy crackles through her veins, it’s undiluted power clawing up her spine and simmering at her fingertips, anticipating her commanded release.

Tagging @ellstersmash @lisa-and-shadow @linashirou and anyone else who sees this and wants to play the game too (no obligations ofc though).

[eridanidreams]

Sunday Snippet

tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson, and @constellation2330

Tags are friendly, as usual--post if you want, read if you want!

from *stars through my fingers like grains of sand*

Sam swung back and forth in his chair, staring at the two slates lying haphazardly on the console—both needing to be dealt with, and neither one calculated to make him feel good about the world. He picked up one of the slates with the same care he'd give an alien beast with far too many teeth, even though he already knew what it said.

From: Daniel Blake To: Sam Coe You have a good eye. Your friend's shaping up to be a fine Ranger—she's got smarts and guts and her heart's in the right place. Problem is, she's stepped in something that's way too big for her. You know what happened out on Andromas III. Hell, you were there—God knows Pryce was bitching up a storm about you asking for classified information—but the way I figure it, you had cause. Point being, you know someone's gunning for Rangers. Emma tells me you helped take down the First on Montara Luna, so you also know about the bank robbery being just a distraction for something bigger. And Lynch is right in the middle of it. She'll follow that case wherever it leads her—I know the type. Hell, I was the type. And right now, fifty years of experience is telling me that whoever she finds at the end of that trail ain't going to go down easily, and they ain't going to go down quietly. Don't know if she told you, but she made a damned good point about Rangers going off solo after the Mosquera thing. Problem is, that applies to her, too, and right now there's no other Ranger I can peel off to partner with her. And I sure as hell can't rein in the rest of my hotheads if I'm not doing the same to the damn rookie. Which brings me to you. I know why you left. You weren't real happy even before Cora was born, what with Lillian pushing you into all those ugly undercover jobs. Emma told her it was going to backfire on her, but she just wouldn't listen. And you were even less happy sitting behind a desk, even if it gave you all the time with little Cora that you could want. Things have changed, Sam. And it may stick in both our craws to have to admit it, but you're needed. Lynch needs someone who can be the eyes in the back of her head when she's got the bit in her teeth, and someone willing to do what it takes to protect her. You were always good at bringing a partner back home. And hell, you're practically glued to her back already. I won't lie, we lost a good man when you stepped down. And I won't pretend that it wouldn't make me a happy man to see you put the badge back on. But it ain't about me. There's a bigger picture here. Think about it. P.S. Tell Lynch the answer to her question is Diego.

Sam swore under his breath. Anyone else, he'd just wipe the slate and be done with it, but Blake—he respected that old man. The only reason he'd gotten out of the Rangers as easily as he had was because Blake hadn't opposed it. Had quietly unruffled some feathers behind the scenes, most like. He owed the man, whether the Marshal knew it or not. But did he owe him that much?

He tossed the slate back on the console. That one only threatened to upend his life; the other would definitely upend Cait's. Again. He let out a heavy sigh. She tried so hard, but she was struggling under the weight of power and the shadow of her past—Jesus, even his love was a burden on her sometimes, and that broke his goddamned heart every time he saw it happen. He wanted to sit on the news for awhile, until she was a little less overwhelmed—but she'd made it crystal clear how she felt about him trying to protect her from herself. And she wasn't wrong to feel that way, even if it made that primitive little part of his brain gibber in frustration.

He snatched the second slate up, re-reading it to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

From: Ari Miller To: Sam Coe I looked into that matter we discussed last week. Discreetly. While officially we don't have access to UC records, there's always the unofficial channels. Sooner or later everyone asks the Clinic for help, and we keep good records. Thing is, New Atlantis doesn't tend to get hit by xenodiseases. The native microbial life is different enough that it hasn't gotten a foothold in Earth-descended plants and animals—knock wood—and their spaceport's had top-of-the-line biosensors since before the Colony War—well, with all their xenowarfare experiments, that's no surprise. Anyway, according to my source, the Well does have fairly frequent breakouts of disease, but they're mutated Earth bugs. There's nothing that would suggest a cover-up—no unexplained gaps, no data that's too clean, nothing. The records are legit—there was no xenodisease in New Atlantis, in or out of the Well, between 2310 and 2315. Sorry to come up dry, and best of luck in your investigation!

Sam tapped the edge of the slate against his palm, thinking hard, then tucked it into his jacket. The problem was that they had so little to go on—Cait's memories had been tortured into unreliability, and the best guess anyone had was sometime around the end of the war. It looked as if the answers they needed were in Neon, and Sam didn't want to put Cait through that. Not now. Bad enough he was going to have to tell her that one of her foundational memories was a lie—he had no idea how she would take it.