#thread | second verse same as the first

[aurheatum]

second verse same as the first

@bxldrsdraumar

“And I do believe that ends the tour,” Rhea says, one hand coming to rest on the eastern wall of the great bridge as they pause in crossing back from the cathedral to the rest of Garreg Mach. It has been some time since Rhea has given anyone a monastery tour herself but it comes naturally to her as does making the sanctuary their final stopping point.

If Sir Sigurd cannot understand the sanctity of the cathedral (few living could) she hopes he at least enjoys the view of the rising sun from their current vantage point. Rhea herself pauses to take it in, before looking sideways again at the man; for despite his remarkable recovery she finds she still worries for him.

“I do hope you will find yourself comfortable making a life here. And if you ever have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask me yourself. You would be surprised at times how few seem to come to my audience hall!”

[phantomrose96]

Actually I'm so incredibly lucky to have The Silt Verses because it gives me the kind of character dynamics I desperately love and so very rarely find.

I am an ABSOLUTE sucker for characters who go "I will move heaven and earth for you. I will be driven to both great and terrible decisions for your sake because of how I am defined by you" but I do... NOT... care about romance. I Don't Care About Romance. I don't want it. I don't relate. My immersion hits a cliff there. I'm an aromantic Character Enjoyer and I do not care about shipping at all.

So as you can imagine, it's a challenge to find "I will do everything for you" character dynamics which, if not canonically romantic, end up being ships that get treated like canon if you try to talk about the characters in fandom spaces.

I am incredibly drawn to sibling media and I think it's largely because that's the primary way I've found these dynamics and they don't get treated as "come on it's basically a canon romance" by the main chunk of the fandom. I'm an FMA enjoyer, a Gravity Falls enjoyer, an Over The Garden Wall enjoyer--fuck I'm a Supernatural enjoyer, for this reason. Do you know what that's like? When Supernatural gets you because you're so hungry?

And then... The Silt Verses... Filled, FILLED, with these "I will move heaven and earth for you" kinds of dynamics--healthy, unhealthy, as sources of hope and sources of absolute destruction. Of course I'm here for it. Of course I'm clocked in.

But it SHOULD be hopeless for me. I mean the only actual sibling dynamics are just within backstories--Carpenter and her brother Em. Faulkner and his brother Charlie. Hayward has no siblings. Paige's aren't relevant. Faulkner and Carpenter have exactly this intense dynamic I love--same with Paige and Hayward--and then Hayward and Carpenter--and I should be taking the L because this always ends in ships.

But Jon Ware and Muna Hussen--who I owe my life to--very intentionally did not do that. Carpenter is aromantic. She gets to be that canonically. There's never a hint of romantic tension between her and Faulkner. When they call each other brother and sister, it's religious formality first, and then it's an actual found-sibling kind of bond.

Hayward and Paige, in like any other media, would have been a couple. The way they save each other, and lean on each other, and leave their old selves behind to become someone new together. It's obvious. I've seen it a million times. But when Jon Ware got asked in a Q&A about what Paige and Hayward -are- to each other ... look I just need to go with direct quotes to do the answer justice

I think maybe there’s also an implicit question there about whether there’s something romantic going on – maybe I’m reading into it, but that is something that’s on my mind a lot, so I’d love to talk about it more. ... I personally, I don’t like writing fictional characters where the most important moment in their narrative arcs is when they get together with the person they were always meant to get together with. ... And again, I think [give the people what they want] can send you in the wrong direction, one that ends up being essentially flattening – we don’t think, "if these characters hook up, OK, what new opportunities does that give us to explore them, to understand them in greater depth?" ... And after we released maybe one episode of The Silt Verses, I saw a couple of folks online going ‘oh, god, I hope this isn’t going to end with Carpenter and Faulkner hooking up,’. And you go, "oh my god, I hadn’t considered that as a possibility for a second, that’s not who they are and that’s not what the relationship is here" - but of course all of us are primed for it, that enemies-to-lovers thread that is so common. ... Because it was freeing because after Season 1, nobody is expecting or hoping that Hayward gets together with anybody. No-one wants that particularly!

And Shrue and Val come along... each of whom has intense interactions and kinds of relationships with the people they encounter but, still, no romance. And nothing among the high katabasians or the adjudicators. If there WAS any kind of romantic read with Rane toward Faulkner, it does nothing to overshadow what was happening there. I liked someone's likening it to Lady Macbeth and Macbeth. The Thing going on between them can't really be reduced to shipping.

We DO even get the family-related bonds and trauma I usually lean on. Paige with her dad. Faulkner with his dad. Carpenter dealing with the trauma of her Nana and brother. Shrue left in harrowing limbo about the safety of their (maybe non-existent) children and husband.

Anyway I didn't even mean this to be so long. I'm just so blessed and lucky to have character dynamics where they're screaming and sobbing each other's names and no one is pulling the "There's no platonic explanation for this" card. I'm so glad.

[enarmor]

Where Marth's light fades, Sain replaces it with his own. He snaps his fingers, and conjures forth another storm of sacred flame. Compared to the last, this one hitches the breath of ferocity. Each ember flickers not with the intent to offer mercy, but cause suffering. Set his cape aflame, burn his boots until his feet feel like they're walking on coals. Let the radiant halo his spell creates slam down against the Emblem's brow as a crown of thorns--this is the price of kingship.

Is he annoyed, that his last attack was for naught? Maybe. But the more likely answer is that he feels no remorse for not holding back against a man.

Sain 10/10HP crits Hero-King 10/10HP* with Vesta at range [Roll: 19 + 4 = 23; -5, Hero-King 5/10HP*]

Gold cauterizes his wounds, creating an ugly cowskin of his ghostly visage. Human skin meets solid metal in unorthodox and disarrayed patterns: a spoon twisted into a knife the way something so sought after could make a person ugly.

"Some strategy they have," he muses, smirking to none other than himself, "beating down the same, axeless man... What cowardice, only striking when you're down. An insult to the honor of a knight!"

Never mind that he just attacked at range, and against a vulnerable target, no less. The beauty of words like 'knighthood' and 'strategy' is how they fit whatever definition is convenient.

Sain retracts his hand and joins up with Idunn, noticing how left out she must feel whilst relegated to the back. He's been there before, and knows that one's heroic spirit can be doused by standing in one spot for too long. A bit of chit-chat, then, should liven things up some, "Many thanks, healer! For the sake of your love, we men ought to hasten the deaths of our foes. It shouldn't take too long now!"

//NO REST FOR THE WICKED: @ashenprofessor

    “ Bearing life's burdens with a smile... ha, you're stronger than me if you can do that. ”  Would that be considered a quip? For Pelleas, maybe so, but he is quite dour as he does so, indeed preparing himself for the storm to come.

But before that happens, he must watch as Sain goes to target Micaiah; how could he smile in the face of that? He can try to insist to kill his own emotions, but he is not unaffected. He turns his gaze away, unwilling to see the final blow, only turning back when the Lance tells him it has been done.

Indeed, a shimmering light seems to be all that remains; Pelleas looks for her, scours the arena for her, but finds nothing— not with his eyes at least.

But he feels something. Enough to be able to look past Sain's half-flirting with her the past little while, too focused on this sense of dread and insistence.

“ I have a bad feeling about this. Our connection... ”  —the power and line of red that binds Pelleas to this variant of his beloved—  “ It's still there. I swear, I feel it still somehow, I don't know—  ” 

But there's no time to investigate it. Not when the Radiant Hero is coming for his blood.

Radiant Hero 12/12HP misses Pelleas 8.5/10HP with Ragnell at range [Roll: 1; -0, Pelleas 8.5/10HP] Pelleas is unable to counterattack!

Well aware that the attack will be aimed for his head this time, Pelleas deftly dodges the wave of Ragnell's attack sent his way, but still Marth proves too quick and nimble for him to come out unscathed.

Hero-King 10/10HP* hits and hits Pelleas 8.5/10HP with Mercurius [Roll: 10 + 4 = 14, 17 + 4 = 21; -1.5, -1.5, Pelleas 5.5/10HP] Pelleas is inflicted with Weapon Break! Pelleas is unable to counterattack! (Break Defenses activates!) [Roll: 3 + 4 = 7; -1.5, Pelleas 4/10HP] Hero-King 10/10HP* follows up with Mercurius [Roll: 15 + 4 = 19, 12 + 4 = 16; -1.5, -1.5, Pelleas 1/10HP]

Mercurius finds his flesh and tears him down again, knocks the axe out of his hand, and then pursues him thrice times more, unwavering in its hunt. But even as he goes through all these motions, he still concentrates on that feeling— that suspicion that Micaiah can't really be gone fully.

And that's when he sees it: the faded image of her visage flickering in as she readies her tome.

“ Micaiah...!! ”

And he takes control of her through his haze, sending that shot of Thani elsewhere.

(Miracle activates!) Dawn Maiden 0.5/10HP crits Byleth 10/10HP with Thani [Roll: 18 - 6 = 12; -8, Byleth 2/10HP]

It is brilliant and blinding, able to be seen fully in its glory at last in this fight; Pelleas knows if it had hit him, he would not be conscious right now. But still, the sacrifice done to deal with this is by no means sweet as he sees how it has hit the professor so, and for that, he mutters,  “ Forgive me. ”

But he imagines it's not enough of an apology really.

Idunn has caught him to prevent his fall, and he slumps into it after using that large burst of energy to redirect Micaiah's attack away from both him and the dragon, giving her the safety to cast her healing spell.

Pelleas is no longer afflicted with Weapon Break! Idunn 8/10HP heals party with Fortify [Roll: 19 + 8 = 27; +8, Sain 10/10HP, Pelleas 9/10HP, Byleth 10/10HP]

“ Ah... um, two of them do, if you're wondering. I don't think Marth does though, if you're asking about him. Not that I know of anyway. I think it's more just a strategy thing to take me out. I... have that effect, I guess. ”  he answers her question pathetically, restored to rights again by her power and care.  “ Thank you again for taking care of me. I'm sorry you have to keep doing it. ”

Performance doesn't matter, she tells him. He doesn't quite know how to believe that. But still, now that he is up again, he should find some way to help.

And so, using another of the staves in his possession, he raises it high and the light of the stars around them catches it, causing the stone imbedded to twinkle.

Pelleas 9/10HP crits Hero-King 10/10HP* with Silence (Uncanny Blow activates!) [Roll: 13 + 8 = 21] Hero-King 10/10HP* is inflicted with Silence! Hero-King is unable to use magic or rallies for one full round!  Hero-King 10/10HP* is inflicted with Void! Hero-King’s passives are nullified, excluding buffs granted from rallies and other ally abilities after this status has taken effect, for one full round!

And with that, the heavenly aura that surrounded the Emblem of Beginnings begins to wane, no longer nearly as powerful nor as swift as before...

—— next: @enarmor or @ashenprofessor !

[kinardsevan]

i gotta ask, how much do you love me?

say what, another mini!? i'm in a mood tonight 😂😂😂 also, i've always kinda lived with this idea of these two having a shared playlist where they would send each other music back and forth, so that birthed this idea.

It’s weeks of silence. Both of them looking at their phones eight, ten, twelve times a day—on a good day—to see if the other has said anything. Seeing bubbles form, only to disappear. Staring at each other’s contact information, just waiting for the other break the ice. 

Except, Tommy can’t, because he was the one to break them, and he knows it was the right move. He knows he doesn’t deserve Evan, and he knows that even if he gave in and went back, he’d be setting himself up for failure. So he types and deletes. Types and deletes. Types. Deletes. Struggles to maintain his own strength in his resolve each time he sees Evan’s name on his phone.

For Evan, it’s the abandonment. What’s the point in trying when the answer will remain the same? Which just leads to staring, staring, and more staring. Waiting for a call or text that doesn’t come. Waiting on answers he’s sure he’ll never get. 

. . . 

Six weeks after the break-up, he’s staring at his phone in the middle of a cafe, still staring at the text thread with Tommy. He’s been on three dates in the past week, each more miserable than the last. Both of the guys he’d been out with had been decent enough, but at the end of the night… he felt nothing. And sure, he could argue that maybe it just wasn’t the right person, except for the part where he was pretty sure he’d already found the right person…but he’s not supposed to think that. 

And it’s in that cafe that he hears it. The song coming through the speakers that resonates with what he’s been trying to make the point of for weeks. It sends him down a rabbit hole scroll through the text thread until he finds the Spotify link. 

It was a playlist they’d started barely two weeks into their relationship. Initially, it was a way to connect on songs that they both liked that they wanted to share with the other. There was everything from eighties rock to seventies country, nineties pop/rock and current top forty. But the longer they’d been together, the more the songs on the playlist had turned into something one of them had heard that brought the other to mind, or said something they couldn’t necessarily piece into words. 

Evan scrolls through the playlist. The last one added had been a joke from Tommy—Purple People Eater. He’d sent it as a pick-me-up while Evan was still waiting on the boils on his face to finally go away, and while he’d been mildly offended at the joke, he’d taken it in stride. 

After googling the lyrics, he adds the song playing in the coffee house to the playlist before copying the link. Briefly, a wave of panic surges through him, wondering if Tommy even still has the link to it, let alone bothers to listen to it. He forces a breath out, swapping screens back to the text thread as he waits at the counter for his coffee order. However, as he picks up his cup and glances back down at the screen, he sees the bubble and those three grey dots. But just as always, they’re there, and then they’re gone. 

He huffs as he walks to the door, shoves it open and steps outside. It can’t be a coincidence, right? 

In a fit of confidence, he pastes the link to the playlist into the textbox and hits the blue arrow, sending it through. He slides his phone into his pocket before heading back to the jeep. 

E: Ain’t About You - Huntergirl

Three minutes later, as he’s plugging his phone into the carplay, the bubbles reappear. 

T: ?

Evan stares at the screen for a moment and then huffs, shaking his head. Did Tommy even bother to listen? Does he really need it spelled out for him? Has it really been that easy for him to move on? 

E: The first verse and chorus.  E: Well fuck, the second chorus too. 

The bubbles appear again, and then a blue message.

It’s the link back. When Evan clicks on it, the playlist refreshes with a new song at the bottom. 

T: If I Told You - Darius Rucker T: The first verse and chorus. 

Evan shakes his head, but he taps on the song anyway, and the beat starts coming through his speakers after a moment. He forces himself to sit and listen to the words—that’s the entire point to the reason this game started in the first place—but he’s barely into the chorus before he’s clicking out of the song and scrolling back into the library. He finds the next one—a song Maddie had sent him ages ago, and adds it to the list before shooting the link back in the message. 

E: Lovesick Fool - The Cab E: Second verse, second chorus

. . .

The chat stays quiet enough that he’s able to make the short drive back home, but as he’s riding the elevator back up to the loft, his phone buzzes in his hand again. He’s not sure if Tommy has actually been contemplating an answer or if he’s just been busy doing other things. Their calendars are still linked in the cloud, so he knows the other man is off, and with the rate at which he was responding, he doubts he’s flying at the moment. 

Once he’s in the loft, he links his phone to the bluetooth speaker before opening the playlist and clicking the newest addition. There’s no extra message along with the link, which generally means to listen to the entire song. 

He’s getting to the end of the song when messages start coming in. 

T: It’ll kill me when you don’t T: stop seeing me like I’m a lifetime T: and I’ll just be a goodbye T: when you get so tired of me 

Evan gulps, reading the words as they play through the speakers. His heart is knotting. Somehow the words they’re sending back and forth feel like they’re saying more than whatever they managed to say to each other in the final weeks of their relationship. There’s still so much he wants to say. 

He clicks back into Spotify, clicks on the artist, and picks the next song down, already having the answer. 

E: Trial Run - Jenny Baker E: I mean the whole damn song. But.  E: why does it feel like somebody died     were you moving on this whole time     while I’ve been stuck on the same side      why does it feel like somebody died      Were you moving on this whole time     I may not be the one, but you’re mine E: You’re still mine

He waits for a response, watching for bubbles for a few minutes, and then groans when one doesn’t come through. He’s so frustrated that he wants to scream, or throw his phone, or… something. And so he ends up digging out his mixing bowls and flipping through the current baking book until he finds a recipe he hasn’t made before. 

. . . 

Half an hour later, he’s in the midst of spooning peanut butter chocolate chip cookies onto a baking sheet when there’s a knock at his door. 

“Door’s open,” he calls out, too distracted by the need to stay focused on his task at hand. He’s still so frustrated that if he stops scooping, he’ll end up picking his phone up. 

Another knock sounds, and he huffs. 

“Just let yourself in,” he calls out. “Door’s open!” 

There’s no movement for another few seconds longer, and he’s about to wipe his hands off and go to the door, irritated, but the door finally opens, slowly at first, and then more, and when Evan finally looks up, his eyes fall on Tommy. 

He gulps at the sight of the other man standing across from him, the expression on his own face somber. His eyes are red-rimmed, and Evan opens his mouth to say something, but Tommy lifts his hand and he spots the other man’s phone in his hand. A few seconds later, the bluetooth speaker makes a noise that indicates it’s been connected to. Evan sets down his spoon and wipes his hands down the front of the apron he’s wearing as a song starts to play. It’s not one on the playlist, but he can’t help standing there and listening as Tommy skips to the point he wants to make with the song. 

“you lean in vulnerable  when you’d rather walk away

but when the rubber meets the road and life goes how it goes and we’re not new no more what am I in for? 

if the meteor hit, babe would you get in your car and drive to me to cry with me if I went insane, and didn’t know my name would you stay this side of me, reminding me if I gambled away my money, would you back away? if my jokes weren’t funny, would you laugh? how much do you love me? I gotta ask how much do you love me?”

By the time the chorus ends, Tommy’s hands are trembling at his sides and there are silent tears coming down his face as Evan rounds the counter. He takes Tommy’s phone out of his hand and pulls the apron off over his own head before grabbing the other man’s hands and squeezing them. 

“More than air, baby,” he rasps, lifting a hand to Tommy’s face and brushing away the tears with his thumb. “I’m not- there’s not an end in this for me. You’re not a stop on the way. You are the destination.” 

“Losing you-..” 

Evan lifts his other hand to Tommy’s face and presses his forehead against the other man’s. “You’re not going to. I’m right here with you.” 

Tommy gulps and nods, leaning into him. Evan tilts his head up and kisses his forehead, and then pulls him tightly into a hug, and for the first time in weeks, he feels like he can breathe again as he buries his own face into Tommy’s neck. 

“I meant what I sent,” Tommy murmurs when they finally separate. “I’m broken, Evan, and there’s no easy fix. People leave, and I’ve made peace with that, but I coudn’t-…losing you, I don’t think-..” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Evan counters. “Can you trust me that much? To love you enough to stay?” 

“I don’t know,” Tommy admits softly, even as he leans into Evan’s hands still on his face. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to communicate, and meet you in the middle. And maybe I can get there.” 

Evan nods, finally catching Tommy’s gaze again. 

“Then we talk,” he replies. “A lot, and about everything. Okay?” 

Tommy nods, and Evan leans into him, kissing him soft and quick before pulling him back in. The song starts to play through the speaker again, and Evan lets out a small, quiet laugh as it does, his hands rubbing up and down Tommy’s back as they stand in the middle of his kitchen. 

“That damn playlist,” he murmurs softly. “Think it just got oudone by this song.” 

Tommy smiles against his neck, kissing it softly, but not making any move to part. Evan turns into him after a moment, whispering into his ear. 

“How much do you love me? I gotta ask, how much do you love me?” 

Tommy lifts his head, just enough to brush his nose up against Evan’s. 

“The world over,” he whispers. He leans back, not much more than an inch, just enough room to completely catch eachother’s gaze before Evan leans back in and kisses him, and this time it’s everything they’ve missed in the intervening weeks. Tommy pulls him in tight as Evan’s hand finds its way to his chest, fisting the fabric of Tommy’s shirt, keeping him close until they’re breathless as the song keeps playing in the background. 

[edennill-archived]

Analysis/thoughts on Finrod's Duel with Sauron in the Finrod Rock Opera:

(I take the English translation of the lyrics from here — it's the 11th song)

Sauron, classically makes the first move, and in a very Sauron-typical manner. "How dare you come here — the world is dark and horrible — loyalty doesn't exist — et cetera as nauseum". I just really want to know what has he got against Fëanor specifically ("Into the world has come a curse, whose name is Fëanor!") He's the only person mentioned by name in the fragment too.

(I'm also fascinated by the costuming choices in the version I usually watch — the newest one? — that seemingly have Sauron steal Morgoth's fashion style. The crown specifically, it's even got three jewels. I know Morgoth doesn't really have much focus in this version, so they may have wanted to use the visual, but still. As for the rest, it's a very standard phobso-influenced design, ginger hair and all. Someone has definitely been on Tumblr, or at least very active on Pinterest.)

Finrod's first response starts off frustratingly vague, in my opinion, and at the same time, mixes together too many images in one stanza. As for "The poison of lies is harsh/But in this world there is no poison greater than love" — I don't think Finrod would say that, not the second part at least. Oh, well, Amarië — but Finrod is not a Romantic, and his view of what Love is would be far wider.

Then we get to the good stuff, however. "The crossbow has been twined with ivy/Harpstrings replaced the bowstring/Blossoms will turn the bloody trail white/The sound of a song will replace curses..." There is a definite echo of "swords into plowshares" with this one that feels at least semi-conscious — and thus makes me wonder... the biblical passage where that comes from is a strongly eschatological one, and I wonder if this does not imply Finrod is now singing about his "dream" or vision.

Well, Sauron's only reply to that is to say: It's too late, "the thread has been twisted too far and too terribly" and denounce Finrod's ideas as "a pitful likeness of the Creator's original designs". (By the way, Sauron is one of the characters to reference Eru most often here (that is two times), only he never calls him by that name. I don't know what to make of that)

Finrod's second verse: "Where there is no oblivion/Runes weave over the stone/And the strings of the lyre/Do not speak of the power of time/Behind me, the youth of the unmarred world has risen like the dawn/et cetera" and "But darkness and slander/Have vanished, like a dream/Such is the law/As long as the firmament is full of imperishable light". I'm quoting in full because my thoughts basically boil down to: this is a lot of words, and I'm not sure what they all mean in this arrangement, or what they call back to — although I think you can interpret them in accordance with my vague ideas about his previous lines. Lastly, Finrod seems to invoke the Day of Valinor in an explicit attempt to match powers with Sauron.

(Also, the phrase "i struny liry" is just honey on the tongue when set to music, I don't know why)

Enter Sauron with "Strength in this world belongs only to the one/who will doubtlessly break the shackles of slavery." Given later context, it seems pretty clear this is to refer to a general promise of "freedom", not to Morgoth and Sauron merely. Which — I don't think is far off from how they would like to be seen, but I wonder what gave the writers this intuition. I don't think the theme is particularly outright expressed in the book, is it? Hmm, or could it be an idea from the Black Book of Arda (which I'm pretty sure goes down that path), or a reaction thereto... I'm never sure just how much influence I should assume the 90s/00s Russian fandom madness (wank and wars included) had on local works. Concluded with "I am free to do whatever I want to you."

Finrod: "My choice is made/And fate is in the power of Eru" — direct refutal, great. "Both light and shadows/Are gifts in his hands." — He would not freaking say that, unless it's supposed to translate into "Your power is not innate either", that I can get behind. And the famous "I do not believe in endless losses." — people have written full essays on that so I will remain silent. Of course Finrod speaks of eucatastrophe though 😊.

Then we get to one of my favourite exchanges. Sauron (after an obligatory segue into how he sees in Finrod a fear that befits only cowards and slaves, because he's like that) calls out Finrod for being "guilty before the Creator". And my darling, dearest Finrod (oopsie, this was meant to be a serious post — I'm afraid I've gotten too deep into blorbo territory) immediately has a riposte: "But the greater guilt is on the one, who in a dark hour, and with open eyes, taught us pride."

Which naturally does not really make him innocent of the blood-guilt, but as a "And you're the one asking about it?" it works very well. Sauron's comeback is "That was done to set you free" which is lame and contradictory with his just preceding attempt to guilt Finrod and I love this. I feel like this inconsistency is something that Tolkien would have agreed with very well in terms of "how evil works" — again, I feel like the people behind this are so strongly either hit or miss in terms of themes that I wonder if the text wasn't written by more than one person.

Finrod tells Sauron that he may at most kill him, Sauron is... enraged and, it seems, instigated, and then we have one of Finrod's best moments in the show, in which he genuinely feels like he almost pities his opponent for wasting himself like that, especially with the right intonation on the part of the actor. "First answer me/Why does the dark throne/So draw your eyes, o Sauron?/As if the dead glitter of crowns/Will save one who was not born?" indeed

As for: "If by such is Light defended, Darkness will triumph" — I hate Sauron for that insult; even more since it's "kicking a fallen opponent" — but it works. He would say that.

And of course he finishes off with "—and me with it!" because Dark Lords are nothing if not preoccupied with self. It's childish really, when not sung in a strong voice — but that's the point, or should be.

[lpanne]

My Cross Stitch Journey

I think i've been cross-stitching for over 25 years at this point and i just wanted to chart my journey and make a couple of notes about the latest step i've taken (no longer caring about the back being perfectly neat). I'm not saying everyone's journey needs to be like mine, but i just want to share somethings that i've only discovered in the last year as i'm wondering if i just missed it being commonly available knowledge or if my sharing what i've learned will be helpful to others.

So the rest of this post below the read more will be about ways to make stitches look neater, but will lead to a messier back.

Again i want to preface this with you can have beautiful cross stitch pieces without doing any of the things i'm about to discuss. This is meant more as an explanation of why stitches get wonky sometimes even when you have figured out getting your threads to lay flat and stitching all in the same direction.

First, I learned that once you finish a stitch, the next place you bring your needle up through can have a huge impact on neatness and the ability to stitches to fill in areas next to previously stitched sections.

So in the above picture i have drawn a completed cross stitch where the top arm started on the upper left and went back down into the cloth on the lower right. So if i'm going to start a new stitch i want to start in one of the green holes or if i had to yellow. Not red. If you bring your needle up through one of the red holes it will make this completed stitch's top arm elongate and lead to messiness. It is especially bad in you go for the bottom far right hole. Also if you are going to stitch around this second with a second color getting your needle through a hole with an elongated arm can sometime be an issue.

Also, i only highlighted the closets holes, but if you are going to start a stitch further away think about what direction you are pulling your thread and will it be passing under the cloth near the red or green holes.

Second, I realized that making sure your top stitch all are stitched in the same way is very important. I don't mean having all your stitches having the top arm being upper left to lower right verse upper right to lower left (that is important too, but i feel like that information was one of the first things i was told). I mean that in a section try to maintain for the top arm upper left to lower right and don't mix in lower right to upper left. This can pull the stitches in a weird way and can make them look messy (if you are looking super closely). See below for an illustration. The numbers are the order of steps the needle took in and out of the cloth.

In this illustration i only drew one of the arms as it was easier to see, but caring this much is only super important for the top arm. Also to call back to my earlier point in the bottom half going from step 2 to step 3 would be having the needle going into one of the red holes i outlined in the first diagram which again can lead to some elongation of stitches.

Sometimes i don't follow these suggestions but i am more aware of these issues, and i am watching for times when i ignore them and i try to mitigate the issues like the example below.

So what do i do in patterns that have an outer line of stitches like my kyubey pattern? i really like the danish method of stitching (stitching a row of arms in one direction and then going back to the start of the row with the crossing arms); however, this leaves you at the beginning of where you were stitching. So i came up with this method to be able to still kinda danish stitch but end your thread at the other end of the row. (The colored lines are the thread on the back side of the cloth.) This is a very niche solution but it is helpful in some instances like the above example.

you will see that i'm doing something i said not to do above. I am mitigating the issues though by having the top arm being the one that is following the suggestions i wrote above. Not following the first suggestion on the bottom arm can make stitching around that area a little harder but it won't look as weird as having the top arm being elongated.

[doug-meat]

parts of the npmd soundtrack that scratch my brain perfectly (act one)

this soundtrack is so good. this is a long post so its all under the cut Part two coming soon. also i alternate between chara names and actor names idk why i do that. i hope this is even slightly comprehensible

HIGH SCHOOL IS KILLING ME

the little grace note in the piano bit in the last line of the piano melody before richie starts singing in (i hope this makes Sense)

jon's voice for real . just through this whole show

"a thread" and "i'm scared" happening at the same time

the violins(??) coming in when ruth starts singing

richie and ruth's harmonies during "the weight has got me sweating" bit

the "and i can survive it for only so long" harmonies

steph's "shit"

the way steph says "couldn't fuckin' study"

FOR THE CLASS OF TWENTY TWENTY WURN

agh Agh AGH!

the whispered "i'm so fuckin' dead"s underneath steph and pete's dialogue

steph and pete's repeated "my melody"s

the howling

the second delayed vocal line underneath the last bit of the last chorus

LITERAL MONSTER

the "HUH" at the start

the guitar riff motif

the little guitar squeal right before pete starts singing

the way pete says locker

richie's little riff on "seduce her"

the chorus harmonies

everyone knows how he BANGS!

the "and we pray and we pray harmonies"

you better you better!

kims voice in the he roars part <3

the harmonies in this song in general

will branners voice in this song SO GOOD

the "HUH HUH"s behind max's i roar bit

max's "don't need no one to tell me" verse UGH so good

NO ONE'S GONNA STOP ME!

max's harmonies on kind, size and rise

I WILL CLAIM WHAT IS MINE!

COOL AS I THINK I AM

the piano motif Can you tell i love motifs

i bet this song'll suck!

oo woah oo woah oh Oh

when the violins come in especially their little BA DA DUMS after "princess leia told me"

what if i were King of the hill!

the drums kicking in after the one oowoahoowoahoh oh

ensemble coming in

the little growl on the second "i'm as cool as she thinks i am"

THEN AGAIN I'M DERANGED

she's the brawn i'm the brains!

the electric guitar kicking in

IF I CAN FINALLY BE COOL I WILL KNOW THAT I'M NOT A LOSER

I'M THE RULER!!!!!!

DIRTY GIRL

the synth and drums

the way max says behave and be-betray me

baaaabe I'mma love ya all night lOOOooooong

THE LIKE MORE SYNTH KICKING IN HALFWAY THROUGH THE FIRST CHORUS UGH SO GOOD

the way grace says classroom

you want me cant be skipping skewl!

grace's "be-behayveee" UGH <3

THE GROWL ON "on your knees pray along"

the chorus harmonies <3

I DONT CARE ABOUT YOU!

the bridge harmonies

AA AAAGH!!

i'm a i'm a i'm a good girl!

WHO ON OCCASION GETS DIRTY!!!!

I WONT CAAARE ABOUT YOU!

BULLY THE BULLY

the snaps coming in

we'll make him shit his pants!

the riff on that line ^^

the jager-man??????

what's our budget?

the growl on "he's just a nerd in disguise"

stephie gonna lure him in with her charm

yeah?

JAGER GONNA JAGER OUT!

chorus harmonies!

standing for the nerdy the prudy!

WE'RE GONNA CUT OFF HIS NIPS!

AAAAHAaaAaaahh

the guitar bits in the back

we're gonna keep the beans cool! that whole sequence

BEAN SCHOOL? EXCELLENT!

THESE CHORUS HARMONIES ESP STEPHS

pete's and our problem's solved

richie's and the school can evolve

AND THE SCHOOL CAAAAN EVOLVE!!!

ugh jon and joey sound so good on the "we're gonna get the jock pleading"

the last guitar note

BURY THE BULLY

oh god she's snapping again...

this is a lot!!!

the whole hack all his limbs off bit

YOU WANT ME TO FILM THIS?

tape him up after dousing with bleach!

the chorus harmonies. every bit of these choruses i cant even isolate its everything

steph's little "bury bully line up stories NEVER HAUNT ME!"

i just cut off his nips

GRACE TELLING RUTH TO GIVE HER MAX'S NIPS

GO GO NIGHTHAWKS

the way ruth says shiny

IT'S LIKE THE START OF A NEW YEAR!

jon's higher range <3

jon's harmony on "and now i don't eat all by myself"

the trumpets behind the chorus

all the squawks

the HUH after who knew footballs a team game

corey's voice sounds so good on the "or hit u with a saturated towel"

the no more bully ball harmonies

the HUH! after no more bully ball

We're all givin the butt slaps YEAH HEAH!

the way jason sings cause we care <3

AND NOW I CAN PEE ALL BY MYSELF!!!!

the overlapping vocals coming together for "in hatchetfield high school"

N! I! G! H! T! AWK AWK! KSSSS!

NIGHT! HAWKS! NIGHT! HAWKS! NIGHT! HAWKS! FLY!

FUCK YOU CLIVESDALE GO GET FUCKED YOURE FUCKIN LOSERS AND WE'LL KILL YOU (KILL YOUR ASS)

fuuuuck you cliiivesdale gooo get fuuucked

the watch us fly harmonies

NIGHT! HAWKS! FLY! AWK AWK!

NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE (my fave song in the soundtrack be warned)

the "watch these nerds run for their lives" guitar riff before max sings

will branners voice augh

the little synthy ba duh duh duhs in the back

the BAMS! after every line in verses

the way max says "hallway safe" and "break you"

ugh the guitar kicking in and the double BUM BUM for the second verse

YA BITCH!

WOAH UH OAHHH

SHOULDA JOINED THE SMOKE CLUB YA NERDY PRUDE

the whole chorus

the watch those nerds run for their lives melody Ugh loved it in axe man loved it here

YOU PUSHED ME OFF THE EEEDGE

the way he says crusade

and youre too weak to be enSLAAAAVED

the drums AUAUDUAAUAU

CLEANSING OF YOUR KIND!!!!

the way he says anti socialites

the entire repeat after me bit. its actually incredible i cant just isolate one part of it its so good

the ensemble kicking in

IIIIM NOT A LOOOSERRRR

But you have lost. Everything.

THE HATCHET TOWN MOTIF

UGH I LOVE THIS SONG. THE NMT MOTIF

[intheorangebedroom]

Pleased to meet you, a drabble

Summary: Frankie's a handyman.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader.

Set within the PTMY universe but can be read as a one-shot stand-alone.

Rating: explicit 🔞

TW: improper use of zip ties

A/N: Happy ❤️‍🔥Frankie❤️‍🔥 Friday, orange besties 🧡 This is the first, and probably not last, zip ties-inspired drabble, so be warned. Because I have a lot of thoughts. 🥖Anon, thank you again for the encouragement. As for you @dreamymyrrh, you know what you did. I love you. More. I literally wrote this shit in two hours in lieu of my usual two and half months weeks, it's unbeta’d, unchecked, uncalled-for. You’ve been warned twice. Please be kind.

Word count: 1.8k

[series masterlist]

Drabble: The ties that bind is

The first time is sheer happenstance. 

A late Friday afternoon, sometime in September. You join him by the toolshed in the garden, where he’s working on a new headboard with simple, elegant slats, supported by two trestles. You want to make sure he’s wearing his dust mask –he’s not.

You step inside the small wooden shed to grab the cumbersome contraption where it lies unused on the workbench, and you notice a small stack of black zip ties, tied together by a wide orange rubber band. 

“Hey, what are these for, Frankie?” you ask naively when you step back outside, holding the bundle of ties in your raised hand.

He tilts up his head, eyes lingering on his work, brow pinched in concentration, sweat dampened curls stuck to his forehead, and he has to squint to see what you’re talking about, but when his gaze focuses on what’s in your hand… a slow smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. 

That smug smile hasn’t changed, not in sixteen years, not ever, it’s the same enthralling curl of his plush lips, followed by the same question, which is never really a question but rather a promise, an invitation to follow him, a little further every time, you wanna try this?

He lays down his hand plane and goes around the trestles, takes a couple of slow steps toward you, until he can husk in your ear in a voice so low it dives down all the way to your core. 

“Want me to show you what it’s for?”

Comprehension dawns on you. The dip between your collarbone deepens as you silently gasp. His smile deepens too. 

He’s gentle and careful, that first time, the black plastic tie that binds your hands together hanging loose around your wrists. Repeatedly, he tries to bite down his smug smile. When he lifts you up and props your ass on top of the workbench inside the crammed toolshed, when he prompts your knees open, when he slides your tied hands behind his neck. 

It’s fucking useless. And you’re smiling too, with delight, nervousness, anticipation, giggling quietly until he thrusts into you, and you’re not giggling anymore, you give him that sound he lives for.

–

The second time is not exactly premeditated yet. 

You’re coming home from Santi’s birthday party, and he’d be lying if he tried to argue he hasn’t been thinking about it all evening, with the sheer black tights you’re wearing, but he still loses it completely. 

He wraps one end of the tights around your wrists and the other end to the leg of the bed, and you let him. 

You let him. 

It’s intoxicating, your complete abandon. Your trust, your faith.

And if you could find the words, you’d tell him. You would explain what it does to you, the way he never takes more than what you’re able to give, the way he always knows how much that is, the way he seeks you out inside your darkness to offer you his love, unwavering, uncompromised, undying. 

If you could describe how it feels to be wanted by this man, his raw power barely restrained, his patience and his strength, the kindness in his eyes… you would.

But you can’t put it into words, so you hope he knows, and you find other means to express the certitude that you’d follow him anywhere. 

You thread a new language between your two bodies for him to write his own verse. And wherever he leads you, it’s always through blinding pleasure. 

In the weeks that follow the party, and what ensues, he becomes obsessed with a thought. An idea invading his system, pervading his mind. He grows restless, which you notice, of course, but don’t immediately question. 

Until this one evening, when you come home from the bookstore to find the zip ties waiting for you on the fucking kitchen table. 

You freeze, the key still in the lock, and suddenly everything clicks into place: his increasing agitation over the past few weeks, the sideways glances, dark from under the brim of his cap, the intense tick of his jaw. The shadow of a smug smile lingering on his lips. 

In your haste to hang your coat on the rack, you miss the hook and it falls in a heap to the floor. It’s a clumsy fumble to untie the shoelaces of your Martens, your fingers numb from the November cold, grey and humid. 

A few hasty strides, and you're in the bedroom, where you know you’ll find him waiting.  

The eagerness that widens your eyes, widens the dimpled smirk on his pretty face. 

“Show me, Frankie,” you ask, handing him the zip ties, “show me what you’ve been thinking.”

Now, the plastic bites into the soft flesh of your wrists, tied separately to the slats of the headboard. The mattress dipping under your knees, you push your forehead from the smooth wood and arch your back until it hurts, seeking the contact of his burning mouth. 

His soft chuckle makes you moan, and he rewards the sound with a hard swat on the swell of your ass with the flat of his palm. Then he spits on your folds, and this one’s really just to please you, because you’re soaking wet already, your come dribbling down along the inside of your thighs from your previous high, when he ate you from behind. 

Messy broad licks, his tongue diving inside your cunt, curling around your clit, teasing, swirling, his plush lips pursed around your tight ring, sucking in. You came violently all at once, in your chest and your belly and your legs trembled. 

They’re still shaking now, and you struggle to keep your balance but you know he’s not done, nor do you want him to be.

He straightens up and you threaten to fall on your side, the ties biting harder into your skin, but he catches you with a large hand gripping your hip. 

The black, starless sky peers in through the orange curtains. It’s late November, but the heat is stifling in the bedroom. Beads of sweat are rolling down his spine; locks of your hair are glued to your shoulders and your nape. 

Later, he will brush them and braid them. Gently kiss the secret birthmark in your hairline.

But right now, his hand slides down to your folds, spreading his spit over your lips, pushing it inside you with a thick finger, then two, and he’s about to add a third when you moan louder, arms pulling against your restraint. His gaze is drawn to the red indentation on your thin skin and he frowns, shakes his head. 

“Want me to cut it off?”

“Fuck no,” you grit back in a beat, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief when you feel the round tip of his cock lining up at your entrance. 

He thrusts in so ruthlessly you cry out and nearly hit your head on the headboard. He catches you again, of course he does, a bruising, splayed fingers clutch on the swell of your ass to slide you back on his cock. 

You want to turn your head to the side, try to catch a glimpse of him, of his large frame, his broad shoulders, his messed-up hair and his pitch-dark eyes. But your bindings won’t allow you that much amplitude, and all you can do is reach your shoulder to wipe the sweat beading on your temple before your mouth goes slack. He’s drilling in so fast, sliding in and out easy with how wet you are, and your mind is reeling. 

His hand moves to your hip again, using the grasp for leverage. This is just a fraction of what he wants to do to you, of what he’s got planned, what he kept playing in his head over and over again when he should have been focusing on work, on driving, on eating… But there’s time. And isn’t that the sweetest thought?

His knees push your knees further apart on the mattress, legs gliding against yours with your mixed sweats. His thrusts deepen, the fat head of his cock bumping into your cervix, and when his thumb comes to rest over your asshole with just the right amount of pressure, you don’t even get the time to warn him. 

Your orgasm seizes you like an earthquake, like fucking lightning, blazing through you from your core, overwhelming, meteoric. You’re mewling, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, so brutal Frankie feels it too, the strong clutch of your collapsing walls pulling him in, and he bends double over you, hissing his pleasure through clenched teeth. 

“Jesus fuck, Gabrielle–” 

Chest heaving painfully, you’re about to slip out of consciousness when you feel his breath burning your skin. He straightens up and sits behind you. You whine, struggling to keep your balance on the unstable surface of the mattress. 

The sensation of the cool blade sliding against your wrists makes your jolt, and suddenly you're free, your arms weightless, like helium balloons drifting away from your body, but it’s over in a heartbeat. He’s grabbed them, flipping you around like a rag doll. 

“Can you take some more, baby?”

Tears have smeared mascara on your cheeks, you can’t seem to catch your breath but you nod, exhaling a feeble “Yeah.”

You weigh nothing between his hands, you’re limp, boneless, and his splayed fingers bruise your skin in their firm hold above your elbows as he positions you over him.

His movements are precise, quick, and deft, trained hands linking your arms behind your back, and the zip tie digs into your flesh when it slides shut around your wrists with its telling slithery sound. 

Just like last time with your tights, his eyes are drawn to the odd angle of your shoulders, to the dip over your collarbone and the way it pokes out in the shadows of the night. 

“Good girl,” he grunts, lying back between your folded legs, “you’re a good girl, Gabrielle, you know that? You’re my good girl,” he adds, lining himself up. 

He shoves himself into you to the hilt, and in this straddling position, the air is punched out of your lungs. Without your arms to keep you balanced, you can’t control anything, certainly not the depth of his thrusts, and he’s ramming into you deeper than he’s ever been. 

“Wanna see your pretty face when you come on my cock again,” he says, and you snap, you surrender, limp and boneless. You let him fuck up into you with his feet planted on the mattress and his strong arms shoving you further down onto his cock, your tits bouncing, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Gonna pump you full of my come, baby.”  

Limp, boneless, exactly how you want to be. 

****

[fafayayarhen]

I don't know if my ask got sent- but imagine Spaus with any Alvaro Soler song (especially "Sofia")

I'M SORRY ANON PERHAPS IT DIDN'T CAUSE IT'S MY FIRST TIME SEEING THIS AUGH Okay let me just get to cooking because I ADORE Alvaro Soler.

These verses in particular is giving me a ton of feels ;

Dices que éramos felices Todo ya pasó, todo ya pasó Sé que te corté las alas Él te hizo volar, él te hizo soñar

You say we were happy everything is now over, everything is now over I know that I broke your wings He made you fly, he made you dream

(I)

And by the God's given grace, His will and granted essence, were they not happy? Were they not inseparable, were they not Europe's dominant imperium, were they not to dance together and to rule together, where they not destined for greatness? Maximilian foresaw riches and glory, Charles maintained order of the hegemony, so on and so forth that led to the inevitable. The unavoidable. The thought they'd reign eternal was a far fetched dream they could not reach for when they each had their wings clipped.

Neither held the pair of scissors in hand but Antonio may have very well pulled fucking Icarus down from flying too close to the sun, because no longer those loveliest amethyst eyes shone the same way they did in their bright, harmonious days now that was all over. Was it him? Was it him?

...

Ya no te creo, ya no te deseo, eh-oh Solo te veo, solo te deseo, eh-oh Now I don't believe you, now I don't desire you (eh-oh), I only see you, I only want you, eh-oh

(II)

How funny fate works, how funny when a pair of souls are intertwined they'll thread unto any and many and every road that eventually reunites them no matter the time and distance that's kept them apart.

How incorrigible to think no matter long has passed those pair of lilac coloured gaze would search across the room and land on a pair of the loveliest, warmest emerald, meeting halfway, meeting every way, it starts with the looks.

Disbelieving of second chances and yet it progresses with the touches, it grows with more words exchanged, it emboldens the unspoken yearning, the, "I want you," and, "I only see you, only you, only you,"

In a room of many strangers, blurred faces, muted conversations, the sun shines the brightest and it is this sun Roderich would be drawn to each time, comparable to the little moon that's never too far, never too out of reach to be embraced by the blazing sun's embrace.

...

[idolbound]

LET'S GET REACQUAINTED ! hey rpc ! lets be honest, datv brought us all back in one way or another either you're a veteran or new, i'm sure there is stuff that has changed or we don't know each other so let's have a game about it to reintroduce each other ! repost this to do the same & tag some pals if you want !

Name / Penname: Lexie for veterans, did you go by something previously ? if so what was it if you're comfortable sharing that name &/or penname: Nope, I've always gone by Lexie. age & gender( if comfortable sharing ): 30, female what was your first dragon age muse: I want to say it was my Cassandra, originally @stabbystabseeker , then I had my Hawke and Inquis both for a hot second as well as Meredith in 2015. do you have any other darp muses / blogs: I have Cassandra, my Rook, and soon to be Rana Savas on my multi @afraidofchange what muses / blogs do you have outside of darp: Mostly still just my multi, but I did throw my D&D/Bg3 Paladin Rama on a solo blog for the time being @wolfbluff thedas has two moons: true | false - is that not the canon?

single line, para, or novella: all of the above, but I don't like single line stuff to go on for more than a few replies/single evening. I need at least some exposition and description lol. plotting or winging it: Typically memes or plotting more generally. It doesn't have to be super specific but I like having mutually shared ideas. fighting threads, you bold enough for them?: I write a villain with a boss fight; of course I'm down to write them. Meredith is also a powerful templar, and isn't afraid to fuck someone up. (this would require plotting, obviously no god modding, but yknow). what content warnings are on your blog?: Drug usage with lyrium (or cocaine in modern verse), violence, PTSD, violence, gore/blood, uh, genocide of the Circle mages, etc. I don't sanitize Meredith, but I approach these topics with respect. what things do you need tagged for your comfort?: suicide & self-harm.

shipping preferences: single | multi | no ship | polyship (sorry Meredith is polyphobic xoxo)- typically, I'm open to separate ships, but because of who Meredith is, some plotting is necessary - I do not change her character to suit a ship (but I have a greater ability to ship her in post-DA2 verses or modern verse, where she isn't as limited). shipping boundaries: Meredith is a lesbian. I ship her with other female muses. She's also between 35-45 years of age during the Kirkwall timeline, and while I'm open to certain age gaps, I prefer to at least ship her with someone 25+ and has their frontal lobe fully developed. I'm pretty selective with my ships, but if there's a vibe, I'd be interested in exploring it (casual, short or long term). favorite ships in dragon age: There are so so many canon x canons, but if we're gonna count romance options in the games: Morrigan/Warden, Isabela/f!Hawke, Cassandra/Inquis, Neve/Rook. favorite ships from the rpc( tag your friends ships ! ): There are a few whose URLs are escaping me but trust me when I say that I see you, especially those of us that have been writing the same ships w the same people for years. So shout out to @sanctamater for writing Kirkwall's Worst Sapphics together <3

fun facts about yourself that may have changed since in the past ten years( when inquisition dropped )--

I moved halfway across the country and I'm 2.5 years into writing my doctorate. (Also it's been almost 10 years since I started writing Mere). My best friend is due with twins any day now (we only know Baby A is female, we still don't know what Baby B's sex is because they've kept their legs closed this entire time), but I'll be an auntie before 2024 is out.

be honest, did you miss darp. come on now--

I missed a lot of the people I wrote with back in the day and thankfully many of them have come back. I don't miss the crazy insane drama / insane behaviour that happened in this RPC, and quite frankly, I do wish more people would branch out and write more actually sapphic women, dwarves, and villains / morally grey protagonists (beyond blood mage Hawkes for example).

challenge round ! put a small top five things unrelated to dragon age !

Let's do Music things since spotify wrapped just dropped:

Chappell Roan's rise to stardom in 2024 (but I was a fan about a year before because @magicbound recommended me Red Wine Supernova on Discord).

Brat Summer.

Katie Gavin's solo album What a Relief emotionally destroyed me because it released a week after my break up, but I still bought it on vinyl.

Cat Burns did not only a cover of I like the way you kiss me but she also did teenage dirtbag and they're both amazing!

Megan Thee Stallion is the greatest rapper of our generation. I said what I said.

tagging: @sanctamater @theharellan @theodosiani @prophetries

[aurheatum]

@bxldrsdraumar She laughed, and it was as though a tension he had not been aware of was broken, the strange tautness that came with formality. Sigurd was no stranger to being formal should the occasion call for it – and the archbishop of the prevailing religion on this continent certainly called for it, her hand in his recovery notwithstanding – but he chafed at it, much preferring the looseness that came with friends.

The smile remained on his face – perhaps they were not friends yet, but he was certain they could take steps in the proper direction.

"Lady Rhea, then. I should hate to remind you of your bishops, after all – I am a devout man, but I have never been accused of being so stiff." As he spoke, a gaggle of young monks walked by, finishing their morning devotions, and he winked at them, prompting them to stifle their giggles as they walked off.

He supposed it was difficult for her, then, to make what one might call friends, as archbishop. She had so much to oversee, and such pride in the work that she had done. The woman fairly glowed when she spoke of the monastery, of the chapel, had truly lit up from within during the tour, and he did not think he had heard someone speak in so warm a tone as she did when she said she'd hoped he could find a home here.

He canted his head at her as she spoke, picking up on the wistfulness in her tone. "I see," he said. "It is a shame, my lady, for it seems to me that you find yourself lacking in those lending an ear in your direction." Sigurd paused then for just a moment before he stepped back, tucking one arm behind his back as he extended the other to her, his lips cocked into a grin. "If it is amenable, I should like to occupy your time for some time longer. I feel quite parched from our walk, and I hope to impose upon you for a pot of tea. I hear that you in Fodlan are quite fond of your blends – I cannot claim any level of expertise in such matters, but I would be delighted to learn."

"You are quite right,” Rhea says, one hand over her mouth though for Sigurd at least her amusement must already be on full display, “but pray do not tell them I said so.”

Whether from the churches east or west it seemed the men in power always chafed at change; oh, how tedious it had been to speak over and over to them of trade routes when it came to opening up Garreg Mach’s borders. Humanity could be remarkably short-sighted; though, she thinks, as she sees Sir Sigurd converse with some of the novices that pass them now perhaps much of that at least in Fódlan’s culture had been her fault.

(But on the opposite end of short-sightedness was grasping for what was beyond mortal ken. She knew that well enough.)

“Oh!” She manages, pulled back to the present moment by Sigurd’s next words. “If my words led you to think such a thing, the fault is my own. As archbishop the needs of the church, are of course, my own utmost needs – I hope you can understand.”

Still, when Sigurd proffers his arm Rhea took it it only after a moment of hesitancy. “Even saying so, however, I would be more than happy to take you up on your offer. I took up my mantle gladly but when able to let down my hair I suppose a favorite blend of mine would be… that of the crescent moon. It is as good a place as any to start your tea education, my friend.”

Friend, the word unfamiliar, rests on her tongue long after their walk and rest is complete.

[pizzaqueen]

Another scene from the widower!Steve verse (which I’m calling That Same Old Feeling and I’ll be tagging anything for it tsofverse if anyone is interested in seeing more scenes/snippets); this takes place during the second time Eddie and Steve meet after not seeing each other for about 20 years, c. 2012

Just under 700 words, rated T, vaguely vaguely suggestive because it leads up to their first time together again but cuts off before the action (sorry lol but it’s me! Haha)

It’s surreal, sitting here in Eddie’s apartment, not ten minutes from his own house. Feeling Eddie’s gaze on him, so familiar even after all these years. Shit. It’s been so long.

Steve turns, catches Eddie’s grin, returns it. That’s surreal, too. The last time they met, there weren’t so many smiles. Well, the last time before last night. It all feels like a dream.

Eddie’s grin turns fond, head resting in his hand, elbow resting on the back of the black leather couch. He reaches out and pokes Steve’s knee.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Eddie’s nose screws up. “But it’s… funny.”

“What is?”

“Just… It feels like a lifetime—no, a thousand lifetimes—since I saw you but…” Eddie looks to the side, back to Steve. He lifts a shoulder and adds, “Like no time has passed, as well.”

“Yeah, I know.” So much has happened to Steve since the last time he saw Eddie, and, in some ways, he feels like a completely different person. When he thought of Eddie, over the years, the distance between them felt so fucking huge. But the moment he saw Eddie, last night, it was like he’d only seen him yesterday. “I feel the way I always did with you.”

“Me too.”

Steve bites his lip against a smile and looks Eddie over—his dark hair is still long but it’s threaded with silver, there are deeper crinkles at his eyes, and his arms are totally covered with tattoos now. He still takes Steve’s breath away, still makes his heart beat. Should he feel this way again so soon? He’s not sure he cares. “And you’re still beautiful.”

Eddie lets out a nervous laugh, dipping his head in an oddly shy gesture. He tilts his head further to the side until he’s looking at Steve sideways. “And you’re still one smooth bastard, aren’t you?”

Steve winks and catches Eddie’s chin between his forefinger and thumb. Eddie dips his head, making Steve’s thumb slip up to his lips so he can kiss it. It’s such a small gesture, but it makes Steve’s heart leap and sends sparks skittering up his skin. He shifts his hand, cupping Eddie’s face, and leans in to kiss him softly.

When they part, Eddie has this look on his face that makes Steve’s chest squeeze tight and he can’t… So he kisses Eddie again and again, until all he’s thinking about is being as close to Eddie as possible.

Eddie lets Steve crowd him into the corner of the couch and they make out like a couple of kids until Steve pulls back and says, “You didn’t give me a tour of your apartment yet.”

“Mm?” Eddie blinks, then slowly grins. “No, I didn’t.”

“Maybe you could give me one now.” Steve kisses Eddie’s jaw, down to his neck. “Starting with the bedroom?”

Eddie laughs and pushes Steve away, getting up from the couch. “Right this way, sir,” he says, with a sweep of his hand.

Stumbling to his feet, Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and tugs, saying, “You’re still a total dork,” and then, “Wait, which way?”

Eddie shakes his head and drags Steve to his bedroom. The pretense of a tour is lost the moment they make it through the door as they kiss and shed their clothes and giggle and Steve hasn’t felt like this in longer than he can remember.

When Eddie’s knees hit the back of the bed and he goes down, he pulls Steve with him; all the memories of this—Eddie under Steve, his thighs around him—flood Steve, almost overwhelming him. And now they get to make more memories.

With that thought, Steve kisses Eddie with everything he has, with a passion he sometimes worried he’d lost and, when they part, Eddie looks as dazed as Steve feels. “Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie reaches up, pushing Steve’s hair out of his face, letting his hand linger along his cheek, his jaw.

“You good?”

Steve nods, nuzzles into Eddie’s palm. “Yeah.” He swallows. “You?”

“Yeah.” Eddie lets his hand drop to Steve’s neck. “Fuck, I missed you,” he says, voice tight with emotion.

“Yeah,” Steve says, “I missed you too,” and, when he kisses Eddie again, the years between them fall away.

[thecloudstan]

LET ME GIVE YOU SOME RUN DOWNS FOR OUR HONEY BEE IN VERSE THAT YOU INSPIRED

001 - their first meeting. rufus wandered down below after his father's death and power was secured to learn more about him - like what the fuck he did down there. was it all for primal desire or was there business dealings he should be keen on. it just so happened that the night rufus and his crew went down there was the night there was an auction - cloud's first auction ( which he absolutely wanted no part of ; cloud is a ornery little bee :] ]. naturally cloud had many bids .. which prompted rufus to keep outbidding until he won.

rufus is surprised to find himself attracted to a bee; this place reminded him of where his father would've rather been than with his family - but he could at least be assured he never touched this bee. though rufus bought his company and could do as he liked, they'd simply talked.. much to cloud's surprise. though cloud really didn't have much information about his father. rufus books him again. cloud, thinking this time he was the sex stripped down to his boxers in his office ( assumed this was some office kink play ). ru liked what he saw but wanted no such thing ; he was simply touring cloud around his kingdom ~ cloud wanted to die of embarrassment. the third booking rufus pays way for cloud to go to his estate in junon. cloud normally doesn't take bookings outside of the inn due to how dangerous they could be but even if he didn't want to go - you don't say 'no' to the most powerful man in the world and the honey bee inn is just OKAY with it. so cloud goes. dinner and drink is ready. cloud isn't used to being wined and dined - just wham bamed thank you ma'amed. then they go on a walk around junon where rufus tours cloud around. looking out at the bay they share their first kiss. things get heavier once they get back home though they decide to hold off from sex for now - they want it to be known the other is sexually healthy. in our thread they are on their way back to midgar and speaking on the plane ride ( which cloud is having a rough time, his poor stomach ), of which cloud is going to get PEPPERED with SO MANY QUESTIONS by fellow bees when he finally gets back to the hive below.

that's the first thread we've got - there's 4 in total ( maybe 5 soon with them teaching each other some dances ). but wanted to feed you some deets :]

WOW I really love this!!

I like that Shinra Sr. is already gone, and there’s this degree to which Rufus has to unravel the mystery of his father’s devious plans and connections. The idea of Rufus at the Honeybee even having to think *for a second* about the possibility that his father had already been in a similar spot, possibly with the same faces…yikes.

Also, the fact that Cloud is like a proper escort, and Rufus must’ve been almost instantly determined to genuinely win him over…ughhhh the romance of it all!🥹

[mantisgodiveblog]

More verses: close enough to the first that we can probably still count them as "same as the first", but, like, technically verse 1 only hit the first floor, and we got crushed by a boulder, and loops take way more than one thread to cover on average so calling these threads "verses" would be inaccurate on this count, too, and... actually, on second thought, this metaphor may have gotten away from us. It's the liveblog. We're doing more of it again.

(Part 27 is here)

We are starting this thread, of course, with getting a key. And also considering to ourself if this is a point where we should tag as Act 2 spoilers or if we're still too early in the game for that. Considering how slowly we do things, it might not be, but this late into Loop 3... ehh, we'll figure it out, we guess. That's the last point of interest in the library, regardless, so now we can move on.

We are avoiding the Cursing book in the classroom this go-round, though we're still investigating everything else. In the meantime we are, of course, calling Loop. We've already investigated the library, actually! You'll find that your advice is unneeded! We are, as they say, "on the ball", and also listening to gossip about disappearing islands that were apparently quite close to Bambouche. And also how to run from our problems. Perhaps this is vengeance on calling for advice that we don't need in situations where we already know precisely what to do. If so, let it be known that we still do not intend to stop.

Not much new dialogue here, for the most part, but we got Siffirn to open the Bonding Earrings book, finally!

Finally, we are permitted to learn about bonding earrings! And it only took the witnessing of a single body! And one bout of our teammates writing fanfiction about a frozen person directly in front of their face! A fair trade-off, if you ask us.

…ah. It seems that we've forgotten: we can lead a horse to water, but we are still, regretfully, beholden to the whims and emotions of our current vessel.  Siffrin, we cannot stress this enough: we have, quite literally, all of the time in the world. It will not kill you to read a few dry academic books. For our sake, if nothing else.

No, don't cop out on us. Tell us the details, Isabeau. We would love to know precisely what happens here in as much detail as you can possibly give us. We've got time. Though it's probably not terribly polite to start destroying dashboards in our leading post.

[broadraiwrites]

Doctor's Orders Whumpuary Day 5: Chills Verse: All Elite Wrestling Pairing: Jay White/Charlotte James (oc) Mentions: Mark Briscoe Warnings: None Word Count: 1,213

A different company, a different country, a different exam room, but the same diminutive blonde he was lucky enough to call his busying herself around the room. The more things change, the more they seem to stay the same. Jay regretted arguing days before that he could make the trip to the show. He had started feeling rather weak three or four days before they were set to take off but insisted that it was likely nothing more than the amount of work he had been doing in the last few weeks. That had been the first excuse anyway. Now, as he leaned in the doorway of her office sheepishly, trying to find enough breath in his lungs to call her name, Jay had wished he had just agreed to stay home. If the last six years had taught him anything, it should have been that arguing with Charlotte was never a good idea. He could still remember the disappointment in her eyes as they picked up their bags to begin their journey when she told him that she wished he would reconsider, because medically she didn't have enough to keep him from going just yet.

“Lottie?” He managed to croak out before clearing his throat, staring down at his feet and not daring to meet her gaze when she would turn around to see him. He didn't want to think about how pitiful he looked. His hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, the hood hanging lowly over his head as he was desperate for any sense of warmth. He hadn't been able to get warm in hours, chills wracking his frame, but up to that point he had used the bravado that marked the difference between Jay and Jamie to hide how truly miserable he was.

Charlie turned her power chair on a dime, making her way over to the patient in her doorway. She raised the seat elevator to be able to meet his gaze, hooking a finger under his chin so that he could not avoid hers no matter how desperately he wanted to. “I had a feelin' you'd end up in here before the night was over,” she shook her head slightly. “I already told Tony I would be resendin' the clearance that I gave you before we left. There's no way I'm lettin' you go out there like this. No offense, darlin', but you look like hell.” She ushered him over to the exam table without lowering her seat elevator so much as an inch. It had been Tony who had funded the new chair to help her get around the exam room more easily after the roster had discovered a thread of people criticizing Charlie's employment online. “You can't get away from me now,” she teased with a grin. “I'll just come up to your level.” She reached out to carefully peel him out of his hoodie, eliciting a whine from the younger man. “I know, I know,” she tried to soothe him, “but I can't get a good look at you with all these layers on.”

“It's freezing,” Jay huffed, pulling his shirt off a few seconds later. He brushed away the hair sticking to his face from the cold, damp sweat that seemed to be clinging to every inch of his body. “I don't think I've ever been this sick in my life. You can get out your calendar app if you want, but I think you might be right. I think I maybe should have stayed home this time.”

Charlie's eyes widened playfully. “What do you know? I actually know what I'm talking about.” She ran the temporal thermometer across his forehead, trying to keep it steady as he shivered. “I'm going to take a guess and say you're going to be headed back to the hotel for the night. I'll order you an Uber and get some food delivered to the room.”

“What about you?” The younger of the pair asked before muffling a cough in his elbow. “Are you gonna be able to get back okay?”

“Even if I don't feel like driving myself back, I'm sure I can get Briscoe to drive me. He's always willing to help out when I need him. I'll be fine; we need to worry about you first.” She set the thermometer back down on the counter as soon as she got the reading, a deep frown spreading across her face as she wrote it down in his file.

“How bad is it?” He asked, seeing the obvious worry on her face.

“101.6,” Charlie said, “you're definitely going home for the night.”

“You're going to leave me all by myself in such a vulnerable state?” He pouted up at her, managing even a bit of playfulness given his current condition.

“I could have stayed home with you, spent all my time taking care of you, could have told Tony that I wasn't gonna be able to make it in, but you wanted to be stubborn, so now I have to work, and you have to go back to the hotel by yourself. Maybe next time you'll think about it when you decide that not listenin' to me is a good idea. You being by yourself is somethin' that you did to yourself, and now you're gonna have to deal with that until I'm able to get out of here. You can hope that the others don't keep me too busy, but you should know by now that I could be here several hours after the show's done, just dependin' on how things go tonight.”

“Lottie, can't you just get another one of the medics to take over for tonight? I need you more than they do; I'm obviously more important than they are.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “No, little bird, I can't just let one of the other medics take over because you decided to be stubborn. You know that I don't play favorites, unless, of course, you're being ableist, and then suddenly you might get less pain medication than you're supposed to be gettin', but I wouldn't know anything about that. I'll have some meds sent to the hotel room when I have your food delivered, and I'll text you exactly how much to take of what. By the time I get back, you'll be fast asleep, and you'll barely even notice that I wasn't there. I'll pay for a couple of extra days in the hotel so that I can get you recovered enough to travel back, kind of like you did for me on New Year's Eve a couple of years ago. I'll be all yours after tonight; you just have to spend a couple of hours without me. I know you Bullet Club boys seem to think that you can't do that; you seem to think it's absolutely impossible, but I promise you can.” She would spend the next several minutes finishing the exam that would be necessary for the records in his medical file before easing him back into his shirt and hoodie and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Text me when you get back to the hotel,” she told him before sending him off to wait for his Uber. “I'll be back before you know it.” 

[rpedia]

what does FPRP mean? (five nights at freddy’s? idk if that would matter)

lillies-ballpit asked: hi, sorry if you've already answered this before, but what does ptrp mean? i was looking at a twitter roleplayer and their pinned said "ptrp/mvrp" :/  

Anonymous asked:   What does Fandomless mean?   Anonymous asked:   What does ss mean in a rp   Anonymous asked:   which is? s/o I see that they write it a lot in a fanfic on the Tumblr platform   Anonymous asked:   What is a open ship?  

Anonymous asked:   What does ST-LT and S-F mean? Anonymous asked: What is pming? Anonymous asked: hi! I feel like this is a stupid question but im kinda new to roleplaying so what does the word muse mean? Ive heard people use before like "single muse" or "multimuse" and stuff like that. But what is a muse?? Thanks for making this blog! Its super helpful!

Time for a bundle answer!

1: Likely FPRP is First Person Roleplay. i.e. “I walk along the street” rather than second person (”You walked along the street.”) or third (”They walked along the street.”) 2. PTRP is a roleplay universe on Twitter for Pokemon Trainers it appears. MVRP is multi-verse! They'll play in multiple universes, fandoms, or realities. 3. Fandomless? It means their character was developed originally, and has no ties to a fandom or already created media.

4: ss probably means Single Ship, which means they like to exclusively write with a single partner and their character, and don't like making new romance threads. I sure as heck hope it’s nothing else because uhm...

5: S/O? Well there's a couple meaning but, "Significant Other" and "Shout Out" are both popular!

6: An open ship is likely just a poly, or multiple shipper. It's someone who is willing to RP multiple plot threads with a variety of roleplay partners and romances, and does not do exclusivity! This is also MS, or Multi-shipping.

7: ST-LT is probably "short term, long term" meaning, they're looking for either a short term or long term RP. S-F might be anything from Sci-Fi to Short-Form. Context is everything for these super short ones, and the meanings change depending on where you find them and how they’re used. Bu these are my best guesses!

8: PMing is Private Messaging, it's when you send a whisper/DM/PM to someone privately, just one-on-one. 9: Muse? It’s just a term to designate the character you’re playing. If I wrote for a character in a roleplay, or played them, they would be my “muse”. This is usually paired with mun, or mundane. There's also players, PC for player character, and character or MC main character. Single muse would be that they play just the one character. Multimuse means a blog contains multitudes, tons of muses are probably being played by the same blog, like a rotating cast!