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accessibleaesthetics · 2 years ago

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hello! I've been reading through the resources you've compiled and I really appreciate them! You seem pretty experienced with image descriptions, so I was hoping I could possibly ask you for some advice on how to make my poll tournament more accessible. If you don't have the capacity to help out right now, that's totally fine—let me know if there's someone who you think could better answer my questions!

Anyways, currently I'm running a tournament for poems that are popular on Tumblr (@poetrysmackdown). For Round 1 I just included the images of the poems, which I'd still like to include in future rounds just because it makes it easier to compare side by side, and a few of the poems' precise line structures would be pretty difficult to faithfully replicate on Tumblr. That said, I want to also include text transcriptions in the future rounds for obvious accessibility reasons (and I'm now really wishing I did for Round 1! I didn't realize the tournament would be voted on by anyone besides like ten of my mutuals haha). Do you have any advice on how to format text transcriptions for poems? I'm not sure how best to convey a line break for text-to-speech, for example—should I write it as a "/" between lines, or is it preferable to just write out the poem as I would otherwise? Is it okay if I put the transcription below a read more (some of the poems are quite long), or is that considered rude? I may be overthinking this haha, I just wanna make sure I get it right so everyone can enjoy the poems. I'm attaching two sample poems just so you can get an idea of what I'm working with—thanks in advance!

Not overthinking at all! Before anything else, let me describe the two examples you gave and then I'll put some more detailed thoughts under a read more.

[Image Description: Two screenshots of poems.

The first poem is titled "Scheheraade." It reads: Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake / and dress them in warm clothes again. / How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running / until they forget that they are horses. / It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, / it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, / how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days / were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple / to slice into pieces. / Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means / we're inconsolable. / Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. / These, our bodies, possessed by light. / Tell me we'll never get used to it.

The second poem is titled "Having a Coke with You." It reads: is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne / or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona / partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian / partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt / partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches / partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary / it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be anything as still / as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it / in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back and forth / between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles // and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint / you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them // I look / at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world / except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick / which thank heavens you haven't gone to yet so we can go together the first time / and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism / just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or / at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me / and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them / when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank / or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn't pick the rider as carefully / as the horse // it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience / which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I'm telling you about it.

End Image Description.]

Now, obviously I went with the traditional academic rules for quoting poems in the above ID, and I did that because the location of line breaks can be very important in poetry, and that's not always going to translate with a screen reader if you just format it that way. Additionally, if you have someone who sight reads but needs to make the text large, this will often change the location of the line breaks.

I don't know of a good or natural way to convey the right-aligned text in some places via a text description, but if any of my followers do, please feel free to comment!

Capitalization, punctuation, and even font choice are all things that can potentially convey significant meaning in poetry. I opted not to attempt to transcribe those in the above two, but if you're more familiar with the poem and thing those aspects are important in context, you could always make a note about the capitalization. And for things like italics, you could do something like "except possibly for the [italics] Polish Rider [end italics] occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick."

Punctuation is also a tricky one...I tried to keep the description as true to the text as possible, because the lack of punctuation in the second poem defintely seemed very intentional and internal to the flow, but I did add a period at the end of the last poem to give a proper stop between the end of the poem and the "end image description." Your call on how you deal with that, just be aware that not all screen readers are going to pause between lines or paragraphs.

I would generally discourage putting descriptions under a read more, though I do very much understand the concern about length. The formal poem quoting rules above can help condense things space-wise, if that helps.

I also want to encourage alt text! Don't put the entire poem in the alt text of course, but if you put a little blurb in the alt text of each picture, that can signal to screen reader users that it's worth their time to continue down the post. Some screen reader users will simply skip the post entirely when they start hearing "photo, photo, photo," and never even get to the image ID, since it's often not there. Such a blurb could be something like "Screenshot of the poem Scheheraade. See body of post for full description" for the first photo, and "Screenshot of the poem Having a Coke with You. See body of post for full description" for the second.

And finally, just to throw it out there, you don't necessarily have to do a traditional image description the way I did, especially if you provide the supplementary alt text. You could simply transcript the poems too...it's all up to you!

Please feel free to reach out to me if you have any more questions, I'm defintely going to follow, this is such a neat idea.

Oh, and one more thing: don't be afraid to let AI help you with this! And I'm not talking about the neural network kind, I'm talking about good old-fashioned optical character recognition. For example, I plugged that first poem into onlineocr.net and got this:

Scheheraade Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again. How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running until they forget that they are horses. It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means we're inconsolable. Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.

Sure, it required proofreading, a bit of clean up, and of course the line/stanza breaks, but made the process of creating the image description much less effort than it would have taken to type it all out manually. Of course, if you have access to a text version of the poem, that could work even better, but this is a great way to do it if you only have access to the image for whatever reason!

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asksythe · 2 years ago

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Hi! I'm a huge fan of your book air. I read it first when you where still updating it and still come back to it from time to time to re-enjoy it. If you're still interested in posting your rough drafts to give insight in the finished story I would enjoy that very much too, but I understand if you don't. I just wanted to take the time to thank you for everything you've shared with the world and for inspiring me.

Oh wow! That’s… a while ago. Over 10 years ago, I think? I started writing Book Air when I first started using Tumblr. I vaguely remember I had just graduated from university around that time and moved back home to HCMC for a newspaper job too. That was when the whole Makorra vs Masami thing was still all the rage in the fandom and there I was in the corner, shipping Amorra and wanting to do lengthy character pieces into Asami (because she’s great) even after the first season finale had aired! Ahahahaha. I think I was among the first wave to ship Korrasami, too (back in season 1 before it was cool). And I still have the fanart to prove it.

Man, what a trip down memory l lane! I’m glad you enjoyed my story so much. I’ve always been of the opinion that I write for no one else but myself. But to have readers like you, who have been with me for over a decade and been inspired and come back to visit this sleepy little blog. That is the best accolade a writer can ask for. So thank you.

Yes, I still do have the draft for it. And I’m very happy to type it out here. I probably will have to do several reblogs of this and come back again to type things out, because it is long, and it’s been a while. So it will take time to shake loose the rust in my brain where I store Book Air and its unborn twin, Sun Eater.

In any case, that is the first thing I will say.

- Book Air is the first part of a duology. The second part is called Sun Eater and tells the story of when Korra came back from the end of Book Air to the day she turned 17, right on the morning of her test before she snuck her way to Republic City.

- Book Air was created as a character piece for Korra. So it’s a fairly intense story. At the start, Korra lost all of her bending, with the exception of air bending, which at the time, she hadn’t quite unlocked. Air bending is the most spiritual among the four bendings, so it would be a profoundly soul-searching journey for Korra.

-My idea is that Korra would have to experience life from the other side of who she was, as someone who effectively could not bend, who was poor and working, and who was potentially at the mercy and exploitations of unscrupulous benders. I wanted her to experience living and growing up as an ordinary girl and not… the avatar. So much of Korra’s personality, especially around season 1 and 2, revolved around her being the avatar, that I always felt like. If we take that away, who are you? There’s a reason why before Korra, every avatar had to pass their age of majority before they were revealed to be the avatar. A child raised atop a throne would never have grown up normal. She would be disconnected from the rest of the humans she is supposed to represent because for as long as she has known, she has always been an existence beyond mere humans. I always felt this was Korra’s personality flaw that the show… never properly addressed. I wanted to see Korra the human, interacting with the world and with people without the trappings of her avatarhood, wondering what’s out there for her besides just being the bridge between humanity and spirits.

- Remember in the last chapter I posted, Korra showed off her jeweled necklace because she wanted the comfort she was used to enjoying as the avatar? It eventually brought unwanted attention her way. The region where she was, Emeq, was very poor, so showing off something like that attracted roving bender gangs looking for soft targets. In short, she got roughed up. Kaya, the shamaness who took her in, also got roughed up. This gave Korra a whole lot of feelings. She had rarely ever felt that sense of absolute helplessness before. She had a lot of rage, pain, and uncertainty.

- That incident with the gang also opened the door to the plot thread between Korra and Kaya. Because Korra knew Kaya was a bender, likely a very powerful one too. But Kaya never used her bending even to defend herself. So around this part, a lot of Korra’s anger is directed to Kaya.

- In any case, our girl has a lot of growing up to do. After the run-in with the gang, she was once more really bandaged up. Then came the next issue, which was who was going to pay for her stay. Here came reality knocking on Korra’s door. She had to work. She had to earn her keep, just like every other ordinary human out there. And she had to do this without bending.

- Without going into the boring parts of Korra having to learn the ABC of ordinary life, this plot thread eventually ends with her getting a loan of a stringed northern water tribe instrument, a nine-string mandolin. It started out as something Kaya loaned to her when she was still bedridden from being roughed up by the gang. It became an outlet for her pain, grief, uncertainty, and anger. It would be the key to unlocking air bending without a teacher for Korra.

- Yep, air bending. The idea I thought of was basically a reverse Toph style of learning. Air, wind, the vibration that traverses the void. How is Korra supposed to reach a bending that’s highly spiritual without a guide or a master when she herself was in a period of such turmoil and grief? By accessing her rawest emotions, processing them, and letting them out through music, of course. It’s all very unintentional on Korra’s part. But probably this kind of learning is most effective for someone like her. Certainly more effective than sitting her in meditation with old monks who she didn’t understand and who didn’t necessarily emotionally understand her either.

-To be honest, at first, I thought of a type of zither for the instrument. Atla universe is based off Asia. So a zither would fit in right at home, But then when I really think about it, a zither doesn't really fit in with a tribe of nomads who live as real and raw as you get. When you play a zither, you have to sit down. You need a table or some sort of flat surface for a zither. So what if you want to play while walking during your pilgrimage? What about when you are riding an animal. Furthermore, zithers are associated with philosophers. The oldest type of zithers is considered the philosopher and gentlemen's instrument. So it's an instrument associated with philosophy and logic.... and masculinity. So I thought it didn't quite fit what I had in mind. So I ended up having to search a bit more, finally ending with the mandolin. It's similar to a guitar. It has a unpretentious sensual edge to it. It's also light and simple. An instrument that is both spiritual in a very feminine way and fits right at home in a nomad's hands. I can see Korra playing it as she rides a yak atop ice slopes.

- I also wanted to introduce a softer, more vulnerable, and yet still very fierce, very Korra-esque side to Korra through her musicality. I also wanted her to connect. I wanted to introduce something earthy and grounded, yet deeply sensual, because it’s speaking from her raw emotions. So the mandolin, the songs she learned from the people around her, and the melodies that she eventually came up with herself. These are the tools I planned to use.

- So eventually, this plot thread would open up into Korra gaining a position as Emeq village’s musician of sort. It’s the one practical skill that she showed the most aptitude in and didn’t require too many tools that she didn’t have. This would eventually open up to a different kind of bending, sound bending. Also my take on something approaching spirit bending without being it entirely.

- Then, the people of Emeq eventually started their pilgrimage into All Dark. This is an idea I came up with when I created Emeq. The idea of Emeq was that I wanted a place that was both primal and raw. As in, the very beginning of the beginning. I wanted a different take on water bending, removed from the ethereality of the moon-based water bending we all know in canon. A much more grounded and fierce kind of bending. So Emeq and their annual pilgrimage into All Dark, the region of the North Pole where there was no sun light or moon light, was the result of this. So a water bending born from a place with no moon would be vastly different.

Tbc…

#ask sythe #fanfic #Korra #Boook Air

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endearmint · 4 months ago

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wow i haven't talked about my playing video games at all lately. so, i guess i'll just get everyone up to speed?

i beat in stars and time over a week ago. had extra time (ha.) to play it when i caught a cold and chose to self-quarantine so i couldn't spread it at work (my work station is in the patient-facing reception area). very good game! -- but take care to heed the content warnings before you look further. i already feel like replaying it since the turn-based battles were really satisfying, and there's still some achievements i didn't get

also been playing sable. the best way i can sum it up is, breath of the wild but there's no looming threat except what are you gonna be when you grow up. and it's on another planet and you can customize your horse still hoverbike. it's a pretty chill exploration game, but you gotta be patient for the climbing segments.

also trying to play boyhood's end. it's got ample checkpoints a la witch's house but i'm stumped on this stealth section in a garden... is the squirrel a hint or not? how am i supposed to get past the RED guards who look over their shoulder every two steps???

aaaand i'm also playing minute of islands, but on switch. eshop had a sale when steam didn't. stuck on one puzzle because i can't evade a sequential puzzle piece, and it keeps pitching me back to the start

i passed my 2.5-year anniversary of playing sky: children of the light. i got up to 230 winged light last week, with only a couple red shard eruptions helping out! i'll have to submit bug reports soon, i can't record any more videos on my switch...

i'm also watching LPs of yakuza: like a dragon, nobody wants to die, and life is strange: double exposure.

the yakuza LP is actually an archived twitch stream (thank you chris manok adobo) and while i do enjoy the streamer's chatter during mini game segments, i feel like skipping through them so i can be done with the game faster. i'm on the 16th video in their playlist and i can't remember the last time the main quest was on screen.

nobody wants to die is a futuristic noir-style murder mystery game where everyone has a new, literal lease on life. death isn't necessarily the end, but you have to pay up to actually be alive.

life is strange. they seem to have gotten hella better at writing dialog, but someone among the writers is pulling a butterfly soup. (butterfly soup is an indie visual novel that took most all of its jokes from tumblr posts. and the first scene of lis: double exposure has a joke along the lines of "don't ever talk to me or my sons again", which is a meme so old it's even on wikipedia??.) and it's still got glitches like the absence of character models preventing the character's dialog from being present either, and said glitch may need to be circumvented by adjusting a specific graphic setting.

#🌻.txt

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botwstoriesandsuch · 5 years ago

Text

An Enjoyable Relationship The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild Revali x Reader

You sat on the landing, the wood creaking under your weight. Gusts of cool wind blow by your ears, but your feathered garb keeps you relatively warm. Your legs dangled over the world below, swinging above the treetops and timber huts. The sky was shades of bright blue and laced with white clouds, the sun perched high above Rito village. You watched the sight before you as the leaves swayed and birds chirped. Other Rito flew freely in the air above, blurs of hazel and black, pinks and jades, colors decorated an already beautiful sky as the villagers went about their daily routines. Finally, the color you had been waiting for descended. The winds swirl around, billowing behind the Rito as he picked up speed before stopping gracefully before the landing. A deep blue, bordering on indigo, with accents white as snow around his face and on the edges of his wings. Revali landed beside you, standing atop the arm railing to your left. His face was smug, as usual, but silent for now as he looked expectantly at you, as if waiting for your reaction to his grand entrance. You gave a smirk, before you started to speak.

“Stop stealing my quills, feather face”

“Always one to cut right to the chase, [name].”

You sighed. For the last few weeks you had been in Rito village, Revali had been bickering with you non-stop. As one of the top Sheikah researchers, it fell onto you to review and analyze the Divine Beasts. However, throwing petty insults, having little squabbles, and overall dealing with the proud Rito Champion wasn’t in the original job description.

“Whenever I seem to put down my journal, or go out to lunch, or stay up on Vah Medoh, my quills and ink always seem to magically disappear.”

“Well, how should I know anything about that? For all we know they could have been blown up to the Hebra Peaks.” Revali tucked his wings behind his back, his posture shifted to become more regal, as if to give the impression that he was above whatever nonsense you were talking about. “Why, it sounds like you’re simply an irresponsible scientist.”

You stood up and paced around the wooden landing.

“Well, of course you weren't my first guess. I, at first, assumed I kept misplacing them. Plus, I made the mistake of assuming the great Rito Champion was above such trivial things. That is of course…”

You turned to meet Revali’s gaze, and removed an ivory quill from your pouch.

“...until you dropped this at the latest Champion meeting.”

Revali scoffed. He hopped off the hand railing and moved closer.

“Why do you even come to those? They only concern those of important rank.”

“Quit your slanders and return what's mine, cucco.”

He circled around you for a moment. His gaze looked you up and down, as if assessing you. His eyes narrowed. Then, with the speed of a gale, he snatched the quill right out of your hand.

“Hey! Don’t yo-”

“If you’re so smart, why don’t you riddle me this. What incentive would I have to return the rest of your possessions? Why would I return the things that would continue to allow you to meddle with Medoh, and work so far off into the night that I can hear you scratching notes down in my nightmares?”

He gave a fake shudder, to add to his dramatics on that last note. You tried to grab back your quill, but Revali’s reflexes were too much as he continuously sidestepped and pivoted out of your reach. As you danced around him, you thought for a moment. He wasn’t the type to waste his time, he always complained that he didn’t have the time to fly you up to Vah Medoh as your “very presence alone conflicted” with his archery practices. No, Revali always wanted to get something out if whatever he did. Never wasted a moment to gain recognition, improve his skills, practice, something. You sighed again.

“What do you want in exchange, fuzzy...”

“AH! So there's half a Hylian mind in there after all”

Revali’s familiar smug expression returned once more. He fiddled with the quill, brushing it against his own feathers as he continued to dodge your attempts to retake it.

“Well, since you asked so nicely. Perhaps I’ll consider returning your items in return for your… extended company later this evening.”

“What?!”

You stopped in your tracks, dumbfounded. Revali did the same, although his expression was more meek, his stance changed as his weight shifted between his feet. Why did Revali, this Rito who obviously didn’t think much of you, want to spend the evening together? As you stood there, startled, the Rito began speaking rapidly, the feathers on his neck poofed up, as if he was...embarrassed?

“Now, obviously, it’s not a date or anything. Why anyone would even assume so is beyond me. I mean you’re not even that attract- wait that's not true. I mean, yes it's not a date, but the part about your looks is, I mean- you’re very smart and beautiful and… uh swell?... and I’m sure you’ll find someone who appreciates that someday but, uh, not me, obviously, well I mean-”

He paused. Revali stared at you, his words bounced around in his beak as he tried to formulate the right sentences.

“There’s an...event, that the Champions are invited to this evening. However, I have accurately anticipated that it will be boring. No doubt, everyone will be more concerned with talking about that little knight, or the princess, or the the other Champions and myself rather than more pressing or captivating topics. I’ve already endured a thousand and more of those conversations about myself and the others, truly, it gets tiring after awhile. I’m not one to go through a party without...enjoying myself,” He swept his wing towards your direction, gesturing to you. “Throughout our time together, it has been...interesting. For you, obviously, it’s been great, being in my vicinity all the time, experiencing the grand life of the Rito Champion, Revali! However, it has also been entertaining for me as well, as I find myself appreciating your sarcastic tones and baseless insults. I figured, your presence alone would help make the night more tolerable. So, I’m simply asking for one night where you get to be yourself and keep me from falling asleep in front of those other, insufferable people.”

You continued to stare at Revali. Was he really inviting you to a party? For so long, your relationship had consisted of quips and banter back and forth. Mostly because you didn’t want to feed his ever growing ego. Apparently, your personality had entertained Revali enough that he wanted to spend time with you at a boring party probably meant to entertain loafing nobles and royals. Oh joyous day.

Revali continued after a brief pause. “In exchange for the quills of course, as I know you’re not the type to attend festivities without incentive. Normal people would flock to me just for the chance to spend a moment in my vicinity, of course, but alas, you prefer the illogical option of tucking away to your quarters for the night and reading textbooks for fun.”

“It’s productive.”

“It’s sad.”

You snorted. Fine then. One night with Revali wouldn’t be terrible. You could tolerate his fancy words, flambouyant manner, and deep blue feathers for one night. HIs words earlier were nice enough that you could smile. Gosh, were you blushing?? Or was it just the cold???

You snuck another glance at Revali. Who knows? You might be able to enjoy your time with him too. The winds blew your hair around as the breeze whispered sweet nothings. The Rito stood there, his gaze wandering up and down your figure expectantly.

Well, it’s not like he gave you much of a choice.

“If I go with you, you give me back my ink and quills and whatever else you’ve taken after?”

“You regain your ability to write and research for eternity without sleep, and I get to have an enjoyable night, yes.”

“Sounds like a deal then, Revali.”

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #revali #x reader #revali x reader #botw x reader #botw revali #rito #wow look its my first every piece of writing on tumblr!

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ponypuffle · 3 years ago

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Perfect! Then how about the mane six with a Musician Fem!Unicorn!Reader who plays the piano and plays/sing love songs headcanons . I imagine the reader singing “They don’t know about us” would be the romantic thing ever <3

A/N: tysm for being my first request on tumblr! you'll have to excuse some of them being a lil rushed, i started writing too much for a few of them and realized I had to cut it down lol

Pairing(s): (Individual) Mane Six x Female! Unicorn! Reader

Prompt: Mane Six with a reader who's a musician.

Warning(s): none, lmk if i missed something

Rarity

The two of you meet when Rarity's hired to create stellar outfits for you. With her experience from working for Sapphire Shores, she's found it a lot easier to design outfits for musicians. That being said, part of her process now is to listen to her client's music to perfectly match the songs.

You were able to set a time with her at an empty studio that housed a grand piano. "It'll be just the two of us." You told her when she asked where your manager, bodyguards, or anypony was. Hearing those words made her eyes widen. Meeting you, she found you incredibly gorgeous and oh-so kind. She had quickly developed an admiration for you despite the little time you've known each other.

You trotted over to the piano and sat yourself down on the bench. "Ready?" You asked, looking up at her through your eyelashes. After opening her sketchpad, she gulped and nodded.

You began to play the piano with the melody of one of your favorite songs you knew how to play. When you started to sing, her heart skipped a beat. Her throat hitched. You were singing a love song. And a gorgeous one at that. Though, maybe she was being biased. Your soft, melodic voice was so entrancing that she almost felt like you had cast a spell on her. The only thing grounding her from ensuring that wasn't the case was when she realized not a single spark of magic had been cast from your horn.

When she arrived back home, Sweetie Belle noticed Rarity's love-struck eyes. Everyday, she would rave to Rarity about how it must have been love at first sight! Rarity, herself, almost believed her little sister's words. Though, even if it was love at first sight, she had to keep the relationship professional. Last time she ogled some celebrity when their relationship should've kept to business matters, she became an absolute mess! Literally and figuratively.

You, on the other hoof, had other plans. You played love songs for goodness sake! How could you not be a hopeless romantic? All you could do was stare in awe at the fabulous mare. All the dress fittings didn't help either Rarity was always so close to you, and the tingling of her magic as she held a piece of cloth or a measuring tape had been exhilarating. You could only hope she returned the same affections.

Unfortunately, Rarity wouldn't be back to Canterlot in a whole week! You've waited so long already that a week felt like too long. Probably a little too irrationally, you made the decision to take the next train to Ponyville, packing only your trusty guitar. By the time you got there, though, it was well into the evening that Rarity must be getting ready.

With a huff, you pull out your guitar and began your serenade. Not even three lines into your song, you could hear a squeal from inside. "Rarity! Rarity! Look outside!" The squeaky voice yelled. You had to hold back a burst of giggles as you kept singing on for the mare of your dreams.

The windows on the top floor swung open, revealing Rarity. Her mane was tied up in a ponytail and she was cozied up in a robe, but wow, was she as gorgeous as ever. In that moment, both of your hearts were synced in emotion and pure affection for the other. By the time your song ended, Rarity had made it down to greet you.

"Rarity, every single word was me speaking from the heart. I'd be honored if you'll have me." You placed your guitar down into its case that you had placed down.

Rarity grinned. "Of course, darling! I cannot tell you how much I've wanted this." She stretched forward and nuzzled her cheek to yours.

Twilight Sparkle

The piano, cello, and saxophone behind you played in harmony with the others. Meanwhile, you were swaying gently to the music, singing for the gala's guests. You were tonight's entertainment, hired by Princess Celestia herself. You'd be crazy if you passed up the gig, so you took it with no hesitation.

Meanwhile, the princess of friendship had also found herself busy with the gala. She was conversing with business ponies, delegates, and whatnot. Just a lot of talking. Yet, all she could do was find herself wanting to stay as long as you were singing. She even caught her gaze straying towards the stage during conversations, only to snap her attention back to the pony in front of her. But, she couldn't help it! You were just so gorgeous with that beautiful, black dress that glittered under the stage lights and your shiny, styled mane that accentuated your face just so well.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Your voice needed rest, of course. No use in straining it all for one gig. Twilight couldn't accept that, though. She needed to see more of you. When your voice had disappeared for good, she felt a pang in her heart. She quickly excused herself from the conversation and began to weave through the crowd, drink trailing behind her with her magic.

"Excuse me!" Your ears perked at the sound of a voice coming your way. You swung your head around, meeting eyes with the one and only Princess Twilight Sparkle. Wait, was she talking to you? You tried to stay calm and collected, though you're not sure if it worked very well.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, what an honor to meet you." You bent down slightly in a bow, looking up at her through your eyelashes before returning to your normal stance.

"No need for formalities." She shook her head, "Your performance was beautiful, and I was hoping we could talk."

"Are you sure you're not busy?" You asked, recalling her talking to many ponies who all fought for her attention.

Twilight picked up a glass of champagne off of passing tray. "I'd much rather talk to you." She held out the glass of champagne to you as an offering. You wondered for a moment whether you'd come to regret this, but eventually gave in, intertwining your magic with hers momentarily as you took the champagne glass.

For the rest of the night, the both of you had stuck together, enjoying each other's company. Sometimes her words would stray to some sort of fun fact that she found interesting in the moment, making her all the more endearing.

Unfortunately, the night had to come to an end. The two of you had finally split. Twilight had to stay behind and say goodbye to the remaining guests. Meanwhile, you needed rest from all that singing and talking. So much for not straining your voice, huh? Your tired mind had forgotten to tell her that you were staying in a room of the castle, and Twilight had been too caught up in a whirlwind of guests to have asked where you were staying.

The next morning, the thought struck you. You truly wanted to see Twilight again, but how? Then you remembered what she told you when you asked why she had wanted to talk to you in the first place. "Your voice was so alluring. How could I resist?" She had told you. Maybe that was how you'd find her. Sing out loud for her and she was sure to be in the castle.

You got ready as quickly as possible then opened up the doors to step out on the porch that looked down onto the castle. You felt awkward doing this, but you'd have to make your leave soon and with how big the castle is, you feared you'd miss her and never see her again.

With one of the few spells you learned, you amplified your voice and began singing a love song, professing your feelings for her. By the time you had finished, your ears had flattened to your head as you lost hope. You let our a sigh and stepped back into the room, ready to pack up.

Then, a soft pound of hoof steps sounded behind you. You turned around and found Twilight with her wings stretched out before closing them to her side. "You're here." She spoke in disbelief. "I was thinking I'd never see you again."

"Well, let's make sure that never happens again. I'd love to give us a chance." You stepped closer to her. Twilight smiled at your words before nuzzling her cheek against yours.

Rainbow Dash

You were playing your piano in your little house, the porch windows wide open to let in the summer breeze. It was a good day outside. Why wouldn't you try to enjoy the day while doing your favorite thing?

Rainbow Dash had just the same idea in mind. She had dragged a cloud to a secluded area for a well-deserved nap. Well, it was secluded enough. All she could see was a small house a long way off, but it didn't seen like an issue at the time. Key words being, 'at the time'.

The breeze had slowly swept Rainbow's cloud towards the house. Your house. Rainbow's eyes fluttered open when her ears had flicked around at the sound of music. It wasn't quite her taste in music, but she had to admit, the voice she heard was stunning.

Rainbow shuffled around on the cloud, adjusting her position to peer down towards the source. The windows to the house were open, giving her a perfect view inside. There you were. A pretty little unicorn with a gorgeous mane flowing with the breeze.

By an off chance, you glanced outside only to notice the rainbow pegasus. You let out a squeak in surprise as your eyes widened, putting your song to an abrupt halt. Rainbow flew down, desperate to apologize for her staring. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to stare - I mean, I did, but my napping cloud drifted over here by accident, and you just sounded really nice that I had to see who you were."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "I- Um, thank you." You couldn't help your hooves fumbling underneath you as the strong mare gazed at you.

"I'm Rainbow Dash." She introduced herself, and thus began your friendship. You learned more about her, especially that her naps were well deserved. She was a strong mare who pride herself in her athletic abilities. You're honestly surprised she doesn't take even more naps! Rainbow had eventually asked you to play your music for her to lull her into a peaceful nap. You happily agreed. It'd be good practice, and it meant helping Rainbow! What a perfect combo!

One day, you found yourself staring in awe at your friend as you sang. You had been brushing off your feelings for her as pure admiration, but now it was hard to continue believing that. Your heart tightened and you put your singing to a halt. You took a deep breath and began playing a new song, one that you felt professed your feelings for her much better. You knew she wouldn't hear it, but that's what made this "confession" so much better. No need to be frightened if she had no idea!

At least, that's what you thought. Rainbow's sharp hearing picked up the sudden stop despite her nap. She didn't show any sign of waking up nor did she intend to once you had begun your next song. She heard the words and immediately felt her heart flutter. How could such a gorgeous, delicate unicorn like you like her? She didn't dare question it further.

When the song ended, she opened her eyes and looked at you. Just the way she gazed at you told you all you needed to know. She heard you. Your flight or fight senses went completely haywire as you stood there in shock and panic.

"I hope that song was for me." Rainbow made confident strides towards you, ruffling the feathers of her wings to shake off the sleep.

"I-I was just- I mean-" You stuttered out, struggling to find some sort of excuse but to no avail. How could you ever get out of this situation?

Rainbow was quick to shut you up with a kiss on your cheek. "Hey, no need to stress about it. I like you, too, sport." She moved to your side and set a wing on your back. "I think you've practiced enough, yeah? Why don't you come take a break with me."

Fluttershy

Today was a dream come true! It all started when your cousin was having a party. For what? You didn't know, but all you needed to know was that the Pony-tones were performing for the party. You've only ever had the chance to hear them once, but that was all you needed to absolutely fall in love with their work. What was even more exciting was that you were going to get the chance to meet them! Celestia, just the thought of it sent shivers down your back.

As the singing group performed, you couldn't help it when your eyes had continuously darted back to the yellow pegasus on stage. Her name was Fluttershy, if you recalled correctly. You never realized how beautiful she looked, especially seeing her sing with so much passion.

Once they finished their last set, you rushed over to go meet them. They were all very friendly, especially Fluttershy despite her closed off nature. Yet, her shyness was all the more alluring to you. She was just so cute.

Luckily for you, Fluttershy took quite a liking to you. She loved how passionate you were about music, and found a longing deep inside her to be your friend. There was just something about you that called to her.

And so, you had begun to spend more time with her. Little tea parties and shopping trips were all you needed to fall head over hooves for her. Not to mention, dear little Angel bunny had seemed to approve of your blossoming relationship. Whenever he had a tantrum, Fluttershy had enlisted your voice to calm him down. It was something about your melodic singing that zipped the little critter up.

With everything going so well, you just had to confess to her. All you wanted was to nuzzle up to her and feel her warm affection. After much thought, you finally settled on the perfect message.

You met up with the Pony-tones day after day to prepare. They were all almost as excited as you were when they heard your plan. Even Angel had chipped in. Now, all you had to do was get Fluttershy to come to a little meadow surrounded by trees.

When the time came, Fluttershy had walked into the open space from the trees as she followed Angel. Just as her eyes fell on you and the Pony-tones, you made a flick of your tail to signal the start of the group's acapella part. Just as practiced, you jumped in and began singing a love song to her.

She was a flustered mess, her cheeks tinted red at the words of the song. "D-Do you really mean it?" She glanced at you then back at the ground when the song had come to a close.

"Every word." You stepped closer, picking a flower from the ground with your magic to place in her mane.

She looked up at you through her eye lashes and smiled. In an instant, she had pulled you into a hug with her wings and nuzzled herself under your head.

Apple Jack

"Apple Jack! Is that really you?" You called out when you spotted that familiar hat atop a blonde mane.

Apple Jack made a pivot around, meeting eyes with you, one of her childhood friends. You and AJ had gone to a camp together when you were just fillies. The two of you plus Rara had such fun, but you eventually had to part ways. Yet, here you were at the festival with AJ in your sights.

"Is that really you? I haven't seen you in years! How are ya doing?" AJ grinned, happy to see you again after all this time.

"I'm doing great now that you're here. I hope you're not too busy to let me catch up with you." You replied. To your relief, she was free to chat with you during the festival.

As you neared the end of your day, you learned that she was just the same as before, though she had matured a lot. What once felt like an admiration had suddenly turned into an attraction towards AJ. With her new found maturity, she was quite the gentlepony as she helped you whenever she could

"Do you still have that guitar you used to play on?" You asked, walking beside her on the dirt path leading towards her home.

"Of course. Why'd ya ask?" Her ears had flicked to the side out of curiosity.

"Maybe we can relive some of those memories. Or, maybe we can make new ones with that old guitar." You suggested. Though, you were hoping for the latter. You wanted to confess to her and ask for a chance at a relationship now that you were reunited.

Apple Jack agreed before heading into her house to grab her guitar and picnic blanket. She lead you to one of her favorite places to sit down in the orchard. It wasn't too far off the fencing, and situated a large apple tree, much bigger than the others. Underneath were two logs set in place as benches. You could only imagine this was a place AJ commonly went to for comfort.

Pinkie Pie

"If you don't mind," You took the guitar in your magic, "I'd love to sing for you first."

"Go ahead. I'll set up the blanket." She nodded and began to unfold the blanket. Meanwhile, you began your song.

It was a love song that you felt perfectly professed your feelings towards AJ. You didn't outright say you loved her - it was a little too quick for that, but you knew what you did feel was true. You missed her with all your heart and all you wanted to do was get a chance at something more than friendship.

The song had ended not long after AJ had spread the blanket across the plush grass and settled down onto it. "You sing as amazing as ever. You sang with so much passion that I'd be surprised if ya didn't sing that with somepony in mind."

"That song was for you." You admitted with a soft voice. You could only hope that this didn't ruin your reignited friendship.

AJ's eyes widened before laughing out loud. "Thank Celestia! I was gettin' worried ya wouldn't feel the same." AJ got up and stepped closer to you. "S'ppose that means I get to call ya my very special somepony, then."

AJ's tall stature and close proximity had you blushing. Here you were, just finishing a serenade, only for AJ to turn the tables around and get you flustered. Nonetheless, you nodded in agreement, sealing the deal.

"Good..." She muttered under her breath then leaned in to plant a warm kiss on your cheek.

The day started out as normal as ever. You woke up, got ready, the set off on your day. Today entailed going to the music store in search for a guitar. You'd been saving for a shiny, new one and today was the day you got to buy one!

As you walked through the store, you had soon bumped into a bright pink pony searching through all the instruments, picking up a few before moving onto the next section. You watched in curiosity until the instruments she struggled to hold bad begun to wobble around. Your eyes widened and you instinctively grabbed them with your magic as they fell down, just before they had hit the floor.

The pony's gaze quickly trailed towards you. She gasped, "Wow, that was quick! Thank you so much, I can't imagine the mess that would've happened without you!" She bounced towards you, narrowly avoiding the floating instruments.

"Y-Yeah, no problem." You stuttered out. "What are all these instruments for anyways?"

"For my one-pony band, of course!" She giggled then began to walk off for more instruments. She was so nonchalant about it that you couldn't help following along and taking any instruments she tossed over to you. The thought of this many instruments at the hooves of one pony sounded a little silly, but she was just so intriguing.

From that point on, you kept finding yourself in her company. She was so eccentric, and it just lifted your spirits day after day. She'd include you on all her little antics, and even would set aside her hyper behavior just to hear you singing with that guitar she helped you get on that very first day of meeting.

Now, all you could see when looking at her was pure affection. You loved seeing her get excited, and all you wanted was to feel her fluffy mane against you while she hugged you. You just wanted more than friendship, but how?

"Careful!" She squealed, a giggle cutting through. "We want the cake batter in the pans, not your cute face!"

Your cheeks felt hot as you laughed along. The two of you were baking a cake together, and now all you had to do was put the pans in to bake.

"While we wait, why don't you sing me a song? I haven't heard you sing in so long!" She exaggerated. She heard you sing only a few days ago, but in her defense, she just loved your voice.

You thought for a moment before agreeing. With all these feelings clouding your thoughts, you just knew you had to confess to her now. What better way than through song?

You pulled out your guitar from the case and settled down to begin playing the tune of the song. Meanwhile, Pinkie cleaned up, listening to your voice as a motivator. By the time you finished the first iteration of the chorus, some dishes crashed as she focused all her attention on you.

"What a pretty song." Pinkie commented as you finished. "With pretty lyrics."

"It's all for you, Pinkie." You set the guitar down. "I mean, if you'll have me, of course."

"Really?" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at your words. "I can't believe it! I'm so glad you feel the same!" She bounced up and down before pouncing onto you with a big hug.

#my little pony x reader #twilight sparkle x reader #rarity x reader #apple jack x reader #pinkie pie x reader #rainbow dash x reader #fluttershy x reader #mlp x reader

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fayesdiary · 2 years ago

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Happy 2nd Anniversary!

Hello everyone!

Today marks the second anniversary of this blog! Wow, I can't believe it's been two years already! (Note, I created the blog earlier but February 4th 2019 was my first original post here so I use that date as the blog's birthday)

I'm honestly suprised this blog lasted this long, since I'm a very shy person usually on the Internet and commitment isn't exactly my strong suit. But what can I say? I love it here and Tumblr feels like home at this point!

To celebrate I'm gonna reminisce a little bit and write down my thoughts about this blog. It's gonna get really sappy, I'm sorry.

Just kidding. I'm not sorry at all.

2022 has truly been the year of all time. A lot and I mean a lot of ups and downs. I started and ended my first job, went on vacation, had one of the worst instances of allergy + depression, you name it. In hindsight, every few months I was in a wildly different situation and mental state.

But the thing that overall made 2022 great was finally getting into art! To turn the ironic hate off for a moment, I love Fire Emblem. It's not my favorite series (Kingdom Hearts and Kirby share that position), but it's one I still adore and now am truly greatful for, because for a reason or another it was the only one it felt welcoming enough to me to actively make an account about it and be active in social media rather than a ghost after years.

Before I made this blog I wrote a few supports for the fire-emblem-heroes-supports blog. I think they were the first piece of writing I ever made willingly and not as part of a school assignment, and looking back I still cherish them.

Eventually I had the idea for this blog, and after a lot of hesitation in typical me fashion, fayesdiary was born! I mentioned it a few times already, but originally it was meant to be just meta analysis posts, a few headcanons and theories and my sporadic writings. Overtime though it became a lot more freeform in what I posted, and I think it's all the better for it!

I got the courage to write and posts my first fanfictions and slowly carved my own personal space here on Tumblr. Like, a very cozy rat hole. Over time, this blog became a personal hobby and it gave me a lot of satisfactions. I got close to some people I truly admire and made a few friends too!

And boy, then we get to last year, which has been an absolute blast in terms of creativity!

I don't think I ever had in mind making a dialogue dump website of Awakening, but it happened and I had a lot of fun making it and giving it a lot of tiny details! ...even if its layout has the stability of a Jenga tower and it's just the Gangrel arc. Whatever. It's the thought that counts.

I wrote a bunch more! Not as much as I wanted, but I made some stories I'm really proud of. And I took part in a few fandom events and not just one but two Secret Santas for the first time!

I took a shot at making wallpapers and made some I'm really proud of, especially the Three Hopes ones. They were so fun to make and the process was just tons of fun!

And that leads nicely to... making art.

See, the thing about me is that I always sucked at making art. I couldn't keep my hands stable, I am incredibly clumsy and I couldn't draw anything more complicated than simple childlike doodles. And while I loved painting, the fact I felt incapable of making anything good or that I could like lead me to not even bothering to try. Why bother if you're just gonna be disappointed and frustrated, after all?

Until I got into group painting at around July, and I loved it. I made some paintings I truly like, and that eventually gave me the courage to start drawing again. As a half-joke. Only this time, I decided to draw with references, and my whole world got upside down. Turns out I could actually somewhat draw if I had a reference! And somehow I never realized it in years!

Something clicked. I figured it'd just be a thing I'd do for a week at most and then drop like so many other creative projects of mine, but... it stayed. Not only that, but I got more invested into it. I went from physical to digital (with the mouse!), and eventually shifted to a graphic tablet a friend lent me (and then pretty much gifted me). Eventually the drawings became so many I decided to make an art blog! Me! An art blog! The me from even just early 2022 would have called you insane if you said it! And now not just that, but I'm even making preparations to open a Redbubble shop! I still can't believe it!

And a huge part is thanks to this blog, really! It gave me and still keeps giving me the courage to try new stuff, find new friends and people who inspire me, and lets me know people enjoy what I make or say. It's amazing, and it makes me feel so happy!

I'll be honest, I am grateful to this blog. It truly helped me get into a better place, and I can confidently say ever since I opened it I feel a lot happier. And that's coming from the local cynical bastard who usually hates themselves, but now? I went from hating myself to being neutral at worst for the most part. Even if I still have my moments sometimes, but that's normal. And now I actually have hope for the future!

But really, it says a lot that for once at the New Year party I wasn't the one who claimed the next year was going to suck. Heck, I was actually caught off guard when one of my friends said it and I said no, it's gonna be good!

Anyway, enough rambling. What I want to say is, thank you for everything. Thank you to the people who complimented me or even just commented on the things I made. Thank you to my mutuals and anonymous lurkers. Yes, I know you're there, I was and often still am one of you. And most of all, thank you to all my online friends I made here on Tumblr. When I think about it, we haven't known each other for that long, but I want you to know now I can't imagine a life without you and you brighten my day every time we chat. I love you so much and I wish you nothing but the best<3

Here's to plenty more years of this blog!

#not fire emblem #faye gets sappy #fayesdiary 2nd anniversary #faye #my art #(not) sorry for the long post but incoherent rambles are actually the best way to show my gratitude [citation needed]

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reanimatedcourier · 4 years ago

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How to Write Indigenous Characters Without Looking like a Jackass:

Update as of December 26th, 2020: I have added a couple new sections about naming and legal terms, as well as a bit of reading on the Cherokee Princess phenomenon.

Boozhoo (hello) Fallout fandom! I'm a card-carrying Anishinaabe delivering this rough guide about writing Indigenous characters because wow, do I see a lot of shit.

Let's get something out of the way first: Fallout's portrayal of Indigenous people is racist. From a vague definition of "tribal" to the claims of them being "savage" and "uncivilized" mirror real-world stereotypes used to dehumanize us. Fallout New Vegas' narrated intro has Ron Perlman saying Mr. House "rehabilitated" tribals to create New Vegas' Three Families. You know. Rehabilitate. As if we are animals. Top it off with an erasure of Indigenous people in the American Southwest and no real tribe names, and you've got some pretty shitty representation. The absence of Native American as a race option in the GECK isn't too great, given that two Native characters are marked "Caucasian" despite being brown. Butch Deloria is a pretty well-known example of this effect. (Addendum: Indigenous people can have any mix of dominant and recessive traits, as well as present different phenotypes. What bothers me is it doesn't accommodate us or mixed people, which is another post entirely.)

As a precautionary warning: this post and the sources linked will discuss racism and genocide. There will also be discussion of multiple kinds of abuse.

Now, your best approach will be to pick a nation or tribe and research them. However, what follows will be general references.

Terms that may come up in your research include Aboriginal/Native Canadian, American Indian/Native American, Inuit, Métis, and Mestizo. The latter two refer to cultural groups created after the discovery of the so-called New World. (Addendum made September 5th, 2020: Mestizo has negative connotations and originally meant "half breed" so stick with referring to your mixed Latine and Indigenous characters as mixed Indigenous or simply by the name of their people [Maya, Nahua].)

As a note, not every mixed person is Métis or Mestizo. If you are, say, Serbian and Anishinaabe, you would be mixed, but not Métis (the big M is important here, as it refers to a specific culture). Even the most liberal definition caps off at French and British ancestry alongside Indigenous (some say Scottish and English). Mestizo works the same, since it refers to descendants of Spanish conquistadors/settlers and Indigenous people.

Trouble figuring out whose land is where? No problem, check out this map.

Drawing

Don't draw us with red skin. It's offensive and stereotypical.

Tutorial for Native Skintones

Tutorial for Mixed Native Skintones

Why Many Natives Have Long Hair (this would technically fit better under another category, but give your Native men long hair!)

If You're Including Traditional Wear, Research! It's Out There

Languages

Remember, there are a variety of languages spoken by Indigenous people today. No two tribes will speak the same language, though there are some that are close and may have loan words from each other (Cree and Anishinaabemowin come to mind). Make sure your Diné (you may know them as Navajo) character doesn't start dropping Cree words.

Here's a Site With a Map and Voice Clips

Here's an Extensive List of Amerindian Languages

Keep in mind there are some sounds that have no direct English equivalents. But while we're at it, remember a lot of us speak English, French, Spanish, or Portuguese. The languages of the countries that colonized us.

Words in Amerindian languages tend to be longer than English ones and are in the format of prefix + verb + suffix to get concepts across. Gaawiin miskwaasinoon is a complete sentence in Anishinaabemowin, for example (it is not red).

Names

Surprisingly, we don't have names like Passing Dawn or Two-Bears-High-Fiving in real life. A lot of us have, for lack of better phrasing, white people names. We may have family traditions of passing a name down from generation to generation (I am the fourth person in my maternal line to have my middle name), but not everyone is going to do that. If you do opt for a name from a specific tribe, make sure you haven't chosen a last name from another tribe.

Baby name sites aren't reliable, because most of the names on there will be made up by people who aren't Indigenous. That site does list some notable exceptions and debunks misconceptions.

Here's a list of last names from the American census.

Indian Names

You may also hear "spirit names" because that's what they are for. You know the sort of mystical nature-related name getting slapped on an Indigenous character? Let's dive into that for a moment.

The concept of a spirit name seems to have gotten mistranslated at some point in time. It is the name Creator calls you throughout all your time both here and in the spirit world. These names are given (note the word usage) to you in a ceremony performed by an elder. This is not done lightly.

A lot of imitations of this end up sounding strange because they don't follow traditional guidelines. (I realize this has spread out of the original circle, but Fallout fans may recall other characters in Honest Hearts and mods that do this. They have really weird and racist results.)

If you're not Indigenous: don't try this. You will be wrong.

Legal Terms

Now, sometimes the legal term (or terms) for a tribe may not be what they refer to themselves as. A really great example of this would be the Oceti Sakowin and "Sioux". How did that happen, you might be wondering. Smoky Mountain News has an article about this word and others, including the history of these terms.

For the most accurate information, you are best off having your character refer to themselves by the name their nation uses outside of legislation. A band name would be pretty good for this (Oglala Lakota, for example). I personally refer to myself by my band.

Cowboys

And something the Fallout New Vegas fans might be interested in, cowboys! Here's a link to a post with several books about Black and Indigenous cowboys in the Wild West.

Representation: Stereotypes and Critical Thought

Now, you'll need to think critically about why you want to write your Indigenous character a certain way. Here is a comprehensive post about stereotypes versus nuance.

Familiarize yourself with tropes. The Magical Indian is a pretty prominent one, with lots of shaman-type characters in movies and television shows. This post touches on its sister tropes (The Magical Asian and The Magical Negro), but is primarily about the latter.

Say you want to write an Indigenous woman. Awesome! Characters I love to see. Just make sure you're aware of the stereotypes surrounding her and other Women of Color.

Word to the wise: do not make your Indigenous character an alcoholic. "What, so they can't even drink?" You might be asking. That is not what I'm saying. There is a pervasive stereotype about Drunk Indians, painting a reaction to trauma as an inherent genetic failing, as stated in this piece about Indigenous social worker Jessica Elm's research. The same goes for drugs. Ellen Deloria is an example of this stereotype.

Familiarize yourself with and avoid the Noble Savage trope. This was used to dehumanize us and paint us as "childlike" for the sake of a plot device. It unfortunately persists today.

Casinos are one of the few ways for tribes to make money so they can build homes and maintain roads. However, some are planning on diversifying into other business ventures.

There's a stereotype where we all live off government handouts. Buddy, some of these long-term boil water advisories have been in place for over twenty years. The funding allocated to us as a percentage is 0.39%: less than half a percent to fight the coronavirus. They don't give us money.

"But what about people claiming to be descended from a Cherokee princess?" Cherokee don't and never had anything resembling princesses. White southerners made that up prior to the Civil War. As the article mentions, they fancied themselves "defending their lands as the Indians did".

Also, don't make your Indigenous character a cannibal. Cannibalism is a serious taboo in a lot of our cultures, particularly northern ones.

Our lands are not cursed. We don't have a litany of curses to cast on white people in found footage films. Seriously. We have better things to be doing. Why on earth would our ancestors be haunting you when they could be with their families? Very egotistical assumption.

Indigenous Ties and Blood Quantum

Blood quantum is a colonial system that was initially designed to "breed out the Indian" in people. To dilute our bloodlines until we assimilated properly into white society. NPR has an article on it here.

However, this isn't how a vast majority of us define our identities. What makes us Indigenous is our connections (or reconnection) to our families, tribes, bands, clans, and communities.

Blood quantum has also historically been used to exclude Black Natives from tribal enrollment, given that it was first based on appearance. So, if you looked Black and not the image of "Indian" the white census taker had in his brain, you were excluded and so were your descendants.

Here are two tumblrs that talk about Black Indigenous issues and their perspectives. They also talk about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Australia.

However, if you aren't Indigenous, don't bring up blood quantum. Don't. This is an issue you should not be speaking about.

Cherokee Princess Myth

"Princess" was not a real position in any tribe. The European idea of monarchy did not suddenly manifest somewhere else. The closest probable approximation may have been the daughter of a chief or other politically prominent person. But princess? No.

Here is an article talking about possible origins of this myth. Several things are of note here: women from other tribes may have bee shoved under this label and the idea of a "Cherokee Princess" had been brought up to explain the sudden appearance of a brown-skinned (read: half Black) family member.

For a somewhat more in depth discussion of why, specifically, this myth gets touted around so often, Timeline has this piece.

Religion

Our religions are closed. We are not going to tell you how we worship. Mostly because every little bit we choose to share gets appropriated. Smudging is the most recent example. If you aren't Indigenous, that's smoke cleansing. Smudging is done in a specific way with ceremonies and prayers.

Now, a lot of us were forcibly converted. Every residential school was run by Christians. So plenty of us are Catholic, Baptist, Anglican, Lutheran, etc. Catholicism in Latin America also has influence from the Indigenous religions in that region.

Having your Indigenous character pray or carry rosaries wouldn't be a bad thing, if that religion was important to them. Even if they are atheist, if they lived outside of a reserve or other Indigenous communities, they might have Christian influences due to its domination of the Western world.

Settler Colonialism and the White Savior Trope

Now we've come to our most painful section yet. Fallout unintentionally has an excellent agent of settler-colonialism, in particular the Western Christian European variety, in Caesar's Legion and Joshua Graham.

(Addendum: Honest Hearts is extremely offensive in its portrayal of Indigenous people, and egregiously shows a white man needing to "civilize" tribals and having to teach them basic skills. These skills include cooking, finding safe water, and defending themselves from other tribes.)

Before we dive in, here is a post explaining the concept of cultural Christianity, if you are unfamiliar with it.

We also need to familiarize ourselves with The White Man's Burden. While the poem was written regarding the American-Philippine war, it still captures the attitudes toward Indigenous folks all over the world at the time.

As this article in Teen Vogue points out, white people like to believe they need to save People of Color. You don't need to. People of Color can save themselves.

Now, cultural Christianity isn't alone on this side of the pond. Writer Teju Cole authored a piece on the White Savior Industrial Complex to describe mission trips undertaken by white missionaries to Africa to feed their egos.

Colonialism has always been about the acquisition of wealth. To share a quote from this paper about the ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples: "Negatively, [settler colonialism] strives for the dissolution of native societies. Positively, it erects a new colonial society on the expropriated land base—as I put it, settler colonizers come to stay: invasion is a structure not an event. In its positive aspect, elimination is an organizing principal of settler-colonial society rather than a one-off (and superseded) occurrence. The positive outcomes of the logic of elimination can include officially encouraged miscegenation, the breaking-down of native title into alienable individual freeholds, native citizenship, child abduction, religious conversion, resocialization in total institutions such as missions or boarding schools, and a whole range of cognate biocultural assimilations. All these strategies, including frontier homicide, are characteristic of settler colonialism. Some of them are more controversial in genocide studies than others." (Positive, here, is referring to "benefits" for the colonizers. Indigenous people don't consider colonization beneficial.)

An example of a non-benefit, the Church Rock disaster had Diné children playing in radioactive water so the company involved could avoid bad publicity.

Moving on, don't sterilize your Indigenous people. Sterilization, particularly when it is done without consent, has long been used as a tool by the white system to prevent "undesirables" (read, People of Color and disabled people) from having children. Somehow, as of 2018, it wasn't officially considered a crime.

The goal of colonization was to eliminate us entirely. Millions died because of exposure to European diseases. Settlers used to and still do separate our children from us for reasons so small as having a dirty dish in the sink. You read that right, a single dirty dish in your kitchen sink was enough to get your children taken and adopted out to white families. This information was told to me by an Indigenous social work student whose name I will keep anonymous.

It wasn't until recently they made amendments to the Indian Act that wouldn't automatically render Indigenous women non-status if they married someone not Indigenous. It also took much too long for Indigenous families to take priority in child placement over white ones. Canada used to adopt Indigenous out to white American families. The source for that statement is further down, but adoption has been used as a tool to destroy cultures.

I am also begging you to cast aside whatever colonialist systems have told you about us. We are alive. People with a past, not people of the past, which was wonderfully said here by Frank Waln.

Topics to Avoid if You Aren't Indigenous

Child Separation. Just don't. We deserve to remain with our families and our communities. Let us stay together and be happy that way.

Assimilation schools. Do not bring up a tool for cultural genocide that has left lasting trauma in our communities.

W/ndigos. I don't care that they're in Fallout 76. They shouldn't be. Besides, you never get them right anyway.

Sk/nwalkers. Absolutely do not. Diné stories are not your playthings either.

I've already talked about drugs and alcohol. Do your research with compassion and empathy in mind. Indigenous people have a lot of pain and generational trauma. You will need to be extremely careful having your Indigenous characters use drugs and alcohol. If your character can be reduced to their (possible) substance abuse issues, you need to step back and rework it. As mentioned in Jessica Elm's research, remember that it isn't inherent to us.

For our final note: remember that we're complex, autonomous human beings. Don't use our deaths to further the stories of your white characters. Don't reduce us to some childlike thing that needs to be raised and civilized by white characters. We interact with society a little differently than you do, but we interact nonetheless.

Meegwetch (thank you) for reading! Remember to do your research and portray us well, but also back off when you are told by an Indigenous person.

This may be updated in the future, it depends on what information I come across or, if other Indigenous people are so inclined, what is added to this post.

#fallout 3 #fallout 4 #fallout 76 #fallout new vegas #fallout 1 #fallout 2 #fallout: new vegas #ozhibii'ige

13K notes · View notes

chuckbass-love · 3 years ago

Note

57 and 71 with Ransom 🥵

A/N: Wow, you guys really love Ransom, huh? ME TOO!! I adore writing for Ransom because i see so many possibilities, so many aspects of his personality that can be explored outside of what we see in Knives Out. So yeah, i really hope you enjoy this and thank you so much for your patience.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad or Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #57: "I wonder what your boyfriend would do if he knew what you were doing right now”

Prompt #71: "I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me"

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Although you’re currently spoken for, that doesn’t stop Ransom from trying his luck. What happens when you fail to resist?

Warning: Smut! Cheating, swearing, ass slapping, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, slight hair pulling, slight angst, cream pie, sir kink, neck biting and kissing and mirror sex. I think that’s about it. If i missed anything, please let me know. 18+ folks. Minors DNI

Word Count: 6,490

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @fairyevans go check them out❤️

Death By A Thousand Cuts

Never in a million years, never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d be lying in bed next to your boyfriend of eight years, crying, crying because of the hurt you’re about to put him through. The pain you’re about to subject him to.

But you have no choice. It’s been a week since you made the mistake of sleeping with another man, of sleeping with Ransom. And guilt has drowned your entire body out, leaving nothing but a broken woman in its wake.

You know it’s something you’ve been meaning to do for a while now, but anxiety cripples you, rendering you speechless as you watch Ryan sleep. He looks so peaceful, so handsome and content. Little does he know, that same peace and contentment will dissipate the moment he wakes up.

Your bags are packed away in the closet, the diamond necklace he gifted you for your anniversary neatly hidden away in the black velvet covered box on the bedside table. You’re ready to leave him, to give him a second chance at happiness.

And although your chest is tight and your heart is breaking into a million pieces, you know this is something you need to do.

To flirt with another man is one thing but to have feelings for said man and sleep with him, well that’s something else entirely.

As much as you try to fight it, the memories of that night flash through your mind like a slow motion movie. Every touch, kiss and lust infused decision remains imbedded into your brain, details you’ll never forget.

Here’s the story of the night you ended your relationship by sleeping with Boston’s own notorious playboy, Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

The winter air is so cold that even your calf length faux fur lined coat is struggling to keep you warm as you step out of your cab and onto the stone filled drive of the Thrombey estate.

Harlan Thrombey, a man of mystery and talent. His books are quite literally what got you to where you are now, an excited new author on the cusp of publishing your first novel.

You decided to really draw inspiration from Harlan and what made his mystery and thriller books so enticing and throw it all into a crazy combination of thriller, mystery and romance. At first, upon pitching your idea to your mentor and close friend Harlan, the famous author wasn’t sure it would work, but after reading a rough draft of the almost finished copy, he changed his mind.

His exact words ‘i think this is something that will grab the audience by the balls’ and so far, reviews from your team have been similar. One can only hope it sells enough once it hits the shelves.

But now comes the reason you’re at Harlans home tonight. Every year he holds a party for his family, friends and colleagues, whilst also inviting young and new voices in the writing world, you know to introduce people such as yourself into the scene.

However, also in attendance tonight is the one and only Ransom Drysdale. Your mentors spoilt grandson. Upon encountering Ransom for the very first time, you can recall specifically telling him to go ad fuck himself. He’s nothing but a trust fund prick whose cockiness makes your blood boil...literally.

Although you quite literally cannot stand him and everything he is, you can’t help but admire his looks, and how dreamy his eyes are, how they could lead you down a path of destruction. You’d find yourself risking it all for those blue orbs if they glanced your way at the right moment in time. But then he speaks, and your hate returns.

So it’s safe to say, you are definitely not looking forward to being in such close proximity to him tonight.

Your boyfriend Ryan couldn’t make it due to having work commitments of his own. He’s a lawyer and his boss Andy Barber is hardly the type to allow him to slack off, especially during a high profile murder case.

Late night arrivals home and going without quality time together is your life right now, and as much as it sucks, the two of you seem to make it work the best that you can. Ryan loves his job, it’s what drew you to him in the first place, watching him in a cafe across town with his colleagues, tucked away in a booth. You remember watching as he was detangling his theories for everyone, they all hung on his every word, as did you and you weren’t even supposed to be eavesdropping.

Eventually he noticed, his eyes meeting yours in the booth next to his, and they just gleamed, pulling you in all the more.

After that day, you were joined at the hip. Day in and day out was spent by his side, kissing him, touching him, fucking him, you were enamoured, obsessed.

As was he.

And this year you celebrated your eight year anniversary. The only things missing now are a dog and a ring of engagement.

But patience is a virtue. And you have a feeling he won’t make you wait much longer now.

The zoo floods your stomach as you entertain the thought of marrying Ryan, he’s the love of your life. Your soulmate. Someone you could never live without.

But suddenly you’re pulled from your happiness and thrusted into hell the second Ransom shoves his way past you, almost causing you to spill your drink down yourself. Jerk isn’t the right word to describe him. No. There’s only one word that suffices just nicely, it begins with C and ends in T.

“Watch it” you snap, moving further away from him whilst casting him your infamous resting bitch face, letting him know you aren’t about to put up with his shit. But as he turns to face you, you forget all thoughts of hate, the gleam in his dreamy blue eyes are the reason you fail to hate him for longer than a few measly seconds.

“Dam Y/N, you actually scrub up pretty nicely” he compliments, stepping closer to you to assess your outfit. You’re wearing a stunning navy blue dress, it’s got a sweetheart neckline and it comes to just above your knees. It’s cinched at the waist to show off your body in the best way possible. Not that you care for showing off, you usually shy away. But tonight was cause for celebration so you thought why not dress up?

“Tell me, sweetheart” his body now pressed up to yours, his chest to your side, his mouth so close to your neck and ear that you feel yourself struggling to keep the shivers of arousal at bay.

“Where is that boyfriend of yours tonight? You look way too good to be out alone” his tone is nothing short of mischievous, alerting you of his lustful intentions.

He glides his ridiculously large hand across yours and then up your forearm to your bicep before gently resting it on your upper back.

“Well?” he presses, his hand urging you to speak as it splays out across the middle of your back, edging closer to your tailbone.

“Well what?” you choke out, sipping your champagne a little to distract yourself, hopefully giving off the illusion that you’re far from flustered.

“Where is Ryan?” he asks, and you’re suddenly snapping out of your aroused state.

“He’s working, something you would know nothing about” you retort, shaking his hand off of you before strutting away in your 6 inch heels. And it can’t hurt to ensure your ass is fully in his eye line as you leave him wanting more.

Ransom has spent the last year alone loitering around you in hopes of cracking you so that you’d finally sleep with him. See, he doesn’t care much for titles, or women that aren’t available. To him, sex is sex. If he wants a woman, he’ll get her. He always does. Women are incapable of resisting his playboy charms.

However, you’ve been the exception, the only exception.

But tonight, he’ll change that. He’s determined.

That look in your eyes, one of mutual sexual attraction, it was so prominent that he’d never allow you to lie about it. He knows you want him, or at least you fantasise about having him. It’s just there’s one obstacle, your devotion to your workaholic boyfriend who never makes the time for you anymore. He can sense your starvation, he can smell it.

You’re in need of a good fucking, someone to draw orgasm after orgasm out of you until your body grows limp and you’re sated with a post orgasm buzz. Ransom can be that guy. You just need to let him be that guy. And no one will have to know, not even Ryan.

God even his name in Ransom’s thoughts makes him roll his eyes.

It’s like he can sense you’re settling, your lack of pleasure is clearly something that bothers you yet you don’t utter a single complaint. You just continue to work yourself to the bone too, in order to keep busy, just enough to cease all thoughts of sex.

It’s like a game of cat and mouse to Ransom, when he wants a woman. And right now, the game is well and truly on and he won’t stop until you’re breathless and satisfied.

He leans against the door frame between the grande foyer and Harlans study, assessing the room, searching even. Searching for you.

And soon enough he spots you, in the corner, surrounded by multiple older men. You look happy, laughing as you exchange tips regarding your writing. Marta, his grandfathers nurse brushes past you quickly and the two of you exchange pleasantries.

You’ve always admired Marta, her work ethic, her infectious smile and loveable personality. She reminds you a lot of your younger sister, hence why the two of you get along so well.

Ransoms tumbler glass rises to meet his succulent and kissable lips, the brown liquid filling it entering his mouth slowly as he takes a bigger sip than usual, his eyes glued to you.

On the off chance that you look his way, he raises his glass, winking before watching as you watch him drink. Your flustered state more than apparent to him, he’s no fool and this certainly isn’t his first rodeo. The tell tale signs of arousal are showing.

Unable to refrain from tracking every little movement your body makes, he finds himself blocking out everyone else. So when Harlan snaps his fingers in his face to catch his attention, he jolts. Only ever so slightly though.

“What are you up to?” Harlan enquires, narrowing his eyes at his grandson as he watches Ransom stare his guests down.

“Trouble as always” his eyes leaving you for no longer than a second as he turns to Harlan, sending a wink his way and alerting him that nothing has changed.

But as his eyes return, you’re not there.

He quickly scans the room again, only to find the back of you. Your ass catching his attention as you climb the stairs to the second floor. So rather than watching, or even gawking, he decides to follow you. No one on the second floor now but you and him. A dangerous duo.

Especially since he’d be right in his assumptions, the assumption that you want him just as much as he wants you.

You close the bathroom door behind you, locking it before sitting down to pee, your eyes glancing around the vintage decor, it’s a good job Harlan is at the age he is, changing the entire decor of the house would be a crying shame. It’s so stunning, you’re incapable of taking your eyes off of it. But when you hear a knock on the door, you jump a little.

“Occupied, i’ll only be a minute” you call out before finishing off and flushing the toilet.

As you wash your hands though, another knock sounds through the room, the knock is so heavy, is someone attempting to break the dam door down? Maybe so.

“I said, just a minute” you call back, drying your hands before unlocking the door.

But instead of squeezing past the impatient party goer, you are met with Ransom as he barges inside before closing and locking the door himself.

“Ransom, what the f-”

His plump pink and delicious lips are on yours before you can even finish your sentence, and what’s worse is that despite one measly attempt to push him off, you find yourself enjoying him, enjoying the way his mouth works yours so effortlessly.

Ryan. Ryan. Ryan

Your subconscious screams, willing you to listen. And it works, being as you push Ransom off as if he disgusts you, this time succeeding.

“Woah, thought i had you for a second there” he smirks, mocking you.

“You’ll never have me. I have a boyfriend” you state, as if that’s supposed to deter him, but if anything it spurs him on more. You wipe your mouth as you attempt to move around him to get to the door. How foolish of you. His broad and rather large frame blocks you before you can.

“Come on, sweetheart. You and i both know that you want me, so what’s the point in pretending. You know this feigned hating game is tiring” he chuckles, stepping closer to close the space you created only seconds ago.

And even if you desperately craved some kind of exit from him, you wouldn’t get one, everything is blocked. You’re backed up now, the bathroom counter hitting your back, ice cold as it makes contact with your skin.

The warmth of his whiskey scented breath spreads across your exposed skin, scattering treacherously, threatening to spin the two of you into a web of trouble.

“Don’t call me that” your voice lacks conviction, but you stand tall or at least attempt to. If you believe it, maybe it’ll show.

“Was that poor attempt made to convince me or yourself? Hm?” his index finger lingers under your chin lazily, barely even grazing your skin while you refrain from keening for more.

Although you’re almost certain that Ransom can see right through you, so what’s the point in keeping up this charade?

“Look at you” you look down at your body but before you can get a look, you’re being spun around, your own pathetic reflection staring right back at you in the bathroom mirror. No guilt in your eyes to suggest you’re about to turn him away as he creeps closer to your neck, his lips about to close on your skin whilst his teeth pierce you softly.

And the moment it occurs, your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hands grip at the counter with white knuckle force. Your head rolls to the side like a rag doll as he moves you to gain better access, his sinful and wondering hands wreaking havoc on you. The feelings he’s burdening your body with are feelings Ryan should be making you feel right now.

As your eyes meet his in the mirror and you are met with his signature playboy smirk, you feel yourself crumble all over again.

Why does he have to be so handsome, so dam irresistible?

His one hand steadies your body as the other grips the hem of your best dress, slowly lifting it, something that much to your dismay fills your traitorous body with excitement.

Ransoms breath catches as your pretty ass comes into his view, nothing but a tiny purple laced thong to cover your modesty, barely. A view he can’t help but groan at, guttural.

“Ryan is a very lucky man” the mention of your boyfriend brings you back to earth with a loud and very hard thud as you spin around on your heels, the champagne rushing to your head and causing you to stumble a little.

“Stop it” you snap, holding your hand out in protest to his advances, his very tempting advances.

“Don’t tell me your conscience just paid you a visit?” his sinister and mocking tone and facial expressions, the epitome of the devil on your shoulder. Luring you to him.

He’s right though, your conscience did pay you a visit, one that’s resulting in you contemplating leaving this party earlier than intended. Just to escape the brutal and overpowering sexual tension between the two of you that fizzes and crackles in the air like silent and invisible fireworks.

His hands reach out to grab a hold of your body once again, the needy nature inside of him refusing to let his chances with you slip through his thick digits that easily.

“Tell me, sweetheart. How long has it been since that boyfriend of yours touched you?” his steps are slow, menacing even until before you know it, he’s towering over you, intimidation at its finest.

Meanwhile his hand is dusting over the hem of your dress, lifting it up just as he did a mere few minutes earlier, exposing your panties again.

His voice is raspy, yet smooth as he backs you up to the bathroom counter, enticing you.

It’s getting impossibly hard to resist his womanising ways, the charms that led the many others that came before you to their inevitable fate. At Ransoms feet, his come dripping from their greedy pussy’s.

“Actually don’t answer that, it’s not an answer i don’t already know” his fingers are inching closer to the hem of your panties, teasing you at such a torturous pace that you’re afraid you’ll resort to begging. And since you’re trying to keep a firm hold on your loyalty to Ryan, begging isn’t an option, in fact no extra curricular activities involving Ransom are an option.

You are better than this. You have Ryan, you are happy with him.

You are.

As his fingers dip inside of your panties, you feel your integrity slipping away, your usual pulled together self watching on from a distance as your current intoxicated self allows his fingers to glide over your petals. Almost like astral projection.

A soft yet inviting groan escapes, rolling off of your tongue as you throw your head back in pleasure.

“There she is” his grin can be heard through his speech, a grin to show how smug he is with himself and his ability to lure in yet another woman.

What can he say, he has these skills when it comes to these things.

Your body arches, head remains thrown back as he inches closer to your entrance, index and middle fingers taking the time to figure you out before plunging in. Your hips start to move on their own accord as you silently give your consent for him to do whatever he wishes.

Ryan is now nothing but a distant memory, left to be remembered once the novelty of this moment wares off and you’re left alone with your thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” his body curls over yours, his other arm wrapping around your frame, a vice like grip on you as he gently pulls you up, your head now tilted back to look up at him. Your eyes meet, the intensity of his orbs holding you in place.

You’re incapable of looking elsewhere.

The words you never expected to utter out loud, in fact the words you never expected to utter to Ransom, they are about to escape your mouth. But the way he’s got you dripping with arousal, clenching around nothing as you anticipate the feel of his fingers inside of you, it’s got you throwing caution to the wind.

“I want you” your mouth hangs slack as your breathing grows heavier, his long eyelashes fluttering as his gaze flickers between your eyes to your tempting lips. And judging by the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, he’s debating whether or not to kiss or admire you.

You poke your chin out on purpose in hopes that he’ll give you what you want, what he’s caused you to crave.

“Oh really? What happened to pushing me away, huh?” his fingers still circling your tight hole incessantly.

Boy is he going to revel in your vulnerability, your profound hunger for feeling full, full of him. But for the sake of your guilty conscience you’ll continue to lie to yourself about how he could be any man at this point or even that you’re envisioning Ryan. But the second he grips your chin in his free hand aggressively, forcing your eyes to meet his in the mirror. You’re lie slips away.

Fuck.

You roll your hips again whilst your own tongue pokes out to wet your lips before your teeth sink into your bottom one. Maybe that will do the trick.

He rolls his eyes, pleasure filled impatience as he watches you tease him. His cock hardening all the more, if that’s even possible as it digs into your navel. You just know it’s bothering him, paining him even to keep it hidden away in the tight confines of his boxers and slacks.

It won’t be long now.

His narrowed eyes continue to dance across your face, his brows are furrowed and you’re losing your patience, waiting is not a strong point of yours whatsoever.

“Kiss me” you whisper, barely even audible.

“Needy lil thing, aren’t you?” yet again, mocking.

“Please”

Ryan who?

And just like that his teeth are nipping at your bottom lip ferociously as he pulls you so close to him that you can’t see a single thing in the room but him, so close that you feel him all over you. All you can smell is the scent of scotch on his breath, mingling with the champagne on yours. A heady mix.

Once his teeth pull off, his lips replace them, soothing the marks over with his sinful tongue as it swipes over it gently, the calm before the passionate storm.

Before you know it, you’re battling his tongue for the role of dominant, a war you’ll never win, a war you were always destined to lose when it comes to going up against Ransom.

The two of you continue to go at it like lovestruck teenagers attempting to cram everything in before the return of strict parents. His hands roam your waist before suddenly breaking away, panting in time with you before he spins you around so that your eyes are now meeting his in the bathroom mirror again.

Menacing and harbouring god knows how many mental images of other women in his head, Ransom certainly isn’t short of experiences that would put your sexual past to shame. Something that intimidates you, yet you want the challenge of fighting to be the best of them all.

Despite being attached to another man.

His mouth hovers next to the weak spot on your neck, his eyes still looking into yours, the windows to your soul. His stare is unrelenting and flirtatious, one eyebrow raised as he leans closer, his lips wrapping around your earlobe causing goosebumps to cover you like a second skin entirely, scattered across your body.

He gives your earlobe a little attention before moving his focus to directly underneath it, your gasps allowing him to gather some insight into your weak spots. And as he continues to move lower and lower, the different sounds grow from gasps to whimpers and then eventually moans of high satisfaction.

And bingo, the spot just below your jaw gives him the best reaction, one that makes him want to keep going all night just to hear those pretty sounds of yours. The music he spurs you on to make gives his ego a little bit more than just a boost.

“Ransom” your eyes screw shut as your head lands backwards on his shoulder, his lips and tongue wreaking havoc on your body as his cock presses into your lower back teasingly. His fingers still circling your tight hole, making you wonder if he ever plans to explore your walls.

But just as you start to grind your ass into his crotch, your way of pushing the boat along, his fingers slip in, driving home a little too easily. Thanks to the arousal he drew from your body.

“Yes, sweetheart?” his tone is nothing short of seductive, his words portray a man on his knees willing to do whatever to please you and there’s something so hot about a man at a woman’s disposal.

“Fuck me” your panting should make it impossible for him to understand you, the way your hands are finding purchase on the counter as you grind on his palm every time it collides with your clit when his fingers are knuckle deep.

Desperation isn’t even a suitable enough word for how badly you crave the fucking you know he’s more than capable of giving you. You want this just as much as him, as bad as that seems.

“Beg for it, wanna hear how badly you want my cock”

Is he serious? Clearly so.

Surely your words should be enough. But then again, Ransom is obviously the type to crave ratification and assurance that you want him and you’re not just playing around.

Consent is everything to Ransom, despite his trust fund prick and playboy ways.

His reputation precedes him, everything you’ve heard up until now, all a mix of negative and positive-though the positive rumours don’t come around all too often-so it’s hard to decipher just how many of those are true.

But one thing you do know is that he’s not all bad, or at least not as bad as he’s made out to be.

You can probably be honest here and confess that it’s a huge plus point with Harlan. The way he allows Ransom his freedom and bad spending habits yet he still teaches him right from wrong when possible. And on the occasions where the family talk shit about the playboy, Harlan is always ready to defend him. The majority of the time that is. Harlan once told you that he sees a lot of his younger self in his grandson, unruly behaviour, womanising tendencies and whatnot, and then his defence of Ransom suddenly didn’t seem completely unwarranted.

It’s like he knows exactly how Ransom is feeling and what he’s going through at this stage in his life, so he tries to go a little easier on him whilst also continuing to be that pivotal figure in his life, the one that’s there to support rather than tear him down like his daughter does.

The less you touch on when it comes to Linda, the better.

The woman is nice enough, but she has no clue about parenting.

And that’s enough on her.

“Please fuck me” you murmur, eyes wavering from his until he holds your chin still, his fingers slowing down inside of you, he scissors them deep within, your pussy juices coating them deliciously.

Once your eyes return to his in the mirror, he covers your view by leaning his head around to kiss you, tongues collide, teeth clash, lips move in a rushed yet established rhythm.

“Look at me” his grip on your cheeks grows stronger, vice like, as his head returns to its previous position, his eyes back on yours in the mirror and now you’re gulping as you struggle to maintain eye contact. He intimidates you in the best kind of way.

"I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me"

Your eager nature has you nodding your head over enthusiastically, just wishing the time away until his cock is buried balls deeps inside of you and you’re on the receiving end of a fucking you’ve well and truly earnt.

Another rumour about Ransom, one you have no doubts on whether or not it’s true and one you’ve heard way too many times to try and count now, is that sex is his specialty, pleasing a woman whilst also pleasing himself is his talent.

Some people can sing, some people can write, some people can bake, Ransom can fuck.

The thought of finally experiencing his skills causes your mouth to water, your body to shiver and your mind to wonder. It races with all of the things he could do to you right now, and you love that. All possibilities are on the cards, you are now at his disposal.

“Yes, i want it” you whimper, biting down on your bottom lip as you clamp down around his still fingers, and as he withdraws them, lifting them up into the air for you to feast your eyes on, you feel more arousal pool at your entrance.

“So pretty, baby. All your juices covering my fingers” he pokes his tongue out to lick some of it off, humming his appreciation for your taste before dangling them in front of your flustered self, like candy.

“You taste just as good as you look, actually no, you taste better”

That’s all you needed to take them into your own mouth, wanting a taste of yourself too, the jealousy of the satisfaction inflicted on him was too much.

“Mhmm” your hummed agreement as you suck everything from his fingers, no drop wasted.

He rips his fingers free before wrapping his hand around your neck snugly, his mouth now on yours in a heated kiss. The two of you sharing your taste.

Tongues exploring again, your hand roaming behind you and cupping his size, getting more than just a handful.

“Mhmm, i wonder what your boyfriend would do if he knew what you were doing right now” his smug voice fails to alert you of your current commitment to Ryan, or better yet, it fails to make you feel an ounce of guilt. You’re saving the self hatred for later, that’s your just deserts.

The clink of his belt as he uses one hand to undo it slipping his slacks down along with his boxers, it echoes in the room, the silence allowing your nerves and excitement to reach new heights and the moment you reach your hand back to wrap around him, your eyes grow wide.

He’s bigger than you expected, but then again, you have no clue what you expected really.

His large hands tug on your panties, slipping them to the side before his bulbous head rests patiently at the entrance. He smacks it on your exposed hole twice, knocking before entering.

You eagerly push back against him, not wanting to wait another second without him inside you.

“Someone’s needy” he chuckles, mocking you, yet the way his hands splay across your ass, spreading it apart as your arousal assists him, pulling him inside, says he’s far from mocking.

The breath he sucks in as your entrance catches around him, the view so pretty to him that he cannot take his eyes away. He nudges you forward, causing your elbows to rest on the counter as he eases himself inside.

Your heart racing as you feel the delicious stretch, your pussy accommodating to fit him inside just about.

“Oh god” your guttural moans escape before Ransom reaches around to cover your mouth, as unashamed as he is about the type of person he is, the last thing he wants for you is for his grandfather to find out. Especially since Harlan has met Ryan.

You’d also hate for him to think any less of you and question your morals.

Although they are questionable. Very much so.

The moment he’s seated to the hilt inside of you, you press your hand to your navel, swearing that you can feel him there. So full, so content, so right that it should be wrong.

This will surely haunt you until you confess to Ryan, laying your sins out for him.

“God can’t save you now, sweetheart” his smirk catches your attention in the mirror as he bends you over a little more, your face inches from the mirror. His hand scooping up a handful of your hair and pulling lightly, the burn on your scalp mixing with the pleasure of his cock as he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, it makes you forget the pain he’s inflicting on your head.

Moan after moan, panting, skin slapping against skin, all of it echoes in the room, bouncing off the vintage walls.

The pace is relentless, animalistic, he barely waited a minute before he started to destroy your pussy, rearranging your guts to please himself.

Your eyes watch as he grips at your ass, keeping those cheeks spread as his jaw hangs slack, occasionally biting his bottom lip and rolling his eyes back in pleasure.

Now that you’re left to mute yourself, you have no clue how you’re going to keep shtum.

This feels too good, so sinful yet beautiful.

“S’tight, feels so fucking good” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.

As much as Ransom is dying to be buried inside of you for as long as humanly possible, he knows it’s in his best interest to make this as quick as possible now, seeing as the foreplay took longer than he intended. He just couldn’t help but take his time, teasing you and making you beg for it was one hundred percent worth it.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart, gonna come huh?”

His eyes look over to meet yours, mascara barely holding onto your lashes without running as you refrain from crying tears of pleasure, proof of the pure ecstasy he’s dousing your body in.

“Yes” you just about manage, struggling to keep your legs from giving way as they shake at your impending orgasm, your heels wobbling on the floor pathetically.

“Beg to come” he growls, curling his own body over yours as he lands two hard smacks onto your ass cheeks, his eyes not leaving yours. Your body is shivering.

The rumours are most definitely true. No doubt about that.

“Please let me come, Ra-”

“Uh-uh. What’s my name, baby?”

His eyes hold the answer.

“Please let me come, sir”

The content smile on his face alerts you of his approval as he smacks your ass again whilst pounding into you over and over.

He snakes his arm around your delicate frame, lifting you up, despite your obvious struggle to remain standing.

Once your upright a little, his mouth appears next to your ear, his whispers of “come for me, now” spur you on. Your spiritual body falling off of that cliff edge whilst dragging him down with you as his cock twitches deep inside of you.

The reminder of his lack of protection comes as his hot spurts of ejaculate fill you up, something that you should have been on top of but at the same time, you’re sated state could care less. Besides, you’re on the pill, what’s a little bit of Drysdale come going to do?

He shudders as he slows his pace down, his face contorting as he keeps his loud groans and growls in for your own sake. His gentlemanly side showing.

As he pulls out, you stand there gobsmacked at the nature of what you just did, the activity you just partook in with a man you usually hate. Well, you hate his actions and personality, his looks you admire.

He starts to re dress, leaving you with his come dripping down your legs, a sight that could easily have him ready to go again.

“Everything okay?” he asks, attempting to care, but then again, maybe he does. Just maybe.

“I just cheated on Ryan” the enormity of it hitting your body full force, a force that knocks the wind from your lungs, leaving you panting and struggling to breathe.

He catches your sad expression in the mirror, the internal battle he’s having with himself on whether or not he should comfort you or leave, it’s a hard one. He can’t decide. But before he does, you pull your panties up and turn to face him.

“You don’t have to stay. I chose to do this, and i will deal with the consequences of my actions” your tone neutral, giving him no insight into what you’re going to do next. Your words suggest confessing but given your commitment to Ryan, Ransom can’t ever imagine you destroying it.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, i’m just going to clean up here and then i think it’s best if i go home”

His nod of agreement as his face goes blank, unreadable.

“For what it’s worth, i enjoyed myself. And i know you have a boyfriend but i’d like to think you did too” his tone remaining neutral too, less of the cockiness he’s so well known for.

“I did, that’s the worst part. Anyways, you don’t have to listen to my self pity, you best get back before Harlan comes searching for you” your suggestion is successful as he leaves the room once his slacks are zipped and buttoned up and his belt is tight around his waist.

No more words uttered.

The memories finish flashing through your mind as you lay in bed next to Ryan, you don’t plan on sleeping tonight. It’s 2:00am and you’re being kept awake by the replay of last week, it haunts you nightly, your brains way of forcing you to tell him the truth. Something that he deserves, so who would you be to keep it from him?

All you can do is brace yourself for the storm once the morning light shines into the room you share with him.

God can’t save you now.

---------------------------------

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#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #hugh ransom drysdale smut #hugh ransom drysdale #cevans #chris evans #chris evans smut #smut #fanfiction #knives out #request #prompts #chuckbass-love writes

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stars-self-ships · 3 years ago

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Y'all wanna see how hard I can gush over Centaurworld?

First of all... wow. Ever since I had made that post about expressing interest in starting Centaurworld when the weekend rolled around, I literally could not wait until Friday night to eventually sit down and watch as much as I could until I knew I had to get to bed. I was growing more and more intrigued as to what the show held, and knew full well that, worse case scenario, that I would think Centaurworld would be 'just alright'.

Centaurworld is phenomenal, and I'm not even done with it.

As I'm writing this, I'm halfway through the series, being on the fifth of the ten episodes of the first season. With that being said, I ask anybody who intends on interacting with this post to please not spoil anything, as it's super rare that I not only find a modern animated series that I like, but am as invested in it as I am.

Centaurworld tells the tale of a warhorse named Horse that is separated from her rider after a near-fatal fall. Somehow, Horse is transported to a strange, colorful world that is inhabited by centaurs with an affinity for singing. Horse immediately wants to find a way back to her own world to reunite with her rider, but finds that it's necessary to enlist the help of Wammawink and her herd if she wants to get anywhere.

I usually don't tend to listen to a lot of music with vocals (Or partake in musicals in general), but trust me when I say that the soundtrack for Centaurworld is, no joke, exclusively made up of absolute bangers. I think my favorite musical number so far is the one at the start of the second episode, Fragile Things, which I HIGHLY recommend you give a listen.

You might also notice that in the video I linked above that Centaurworld also possesses some nice animation; I find that the fluidity of Horse's animation is absolutely stellar. Before I watched Centaurworld, I wasn't expecting the animation to look as nice as it does, and in all honesty, I think that was because of how the show's general artstyle looks.

Which, need I remind you, goes from the first image below to the image underneath it in the span of five-ish minutes.

Like, how are these even from the same show? It's amazing.

Some people aren't very fond of the artstyle of Centaurworld, and while I can understand why, I personally find it endearing and befits its whimsical world. Between the immensely creative designs of the centaurs and the really cool scenery design, I quite like how the show itself looks.

Plus, there's a great deal of facial expressions throughout each episode's runtime that are nothing short of hilarious. Just look at these.

That last one comes completely out of left field and it actually got me to laugh embarrassingly loud when I first saw it.

Centaurworld's main cast (And characters in general) is just so good, too. It's really hard to pick a favorite from the six main characters, because there's something I like about just about all of them!

Wammawink (The pink alpaca taur) is high up on my favorite list because of how caring she is as well as how expressive she can be, and Ched (The finch taur who's in the second image under the cut) has a really good voice actor and boasts an outright hilarious 'tough guy' personality. Dude's signature magic power is that he can look handsome for eight seconds. Now that's comedy.

Though my interest in watching Centaurworld to begin with would not have blossomed if it weren't for one man... or, in this instance, taur...

Zulius.

One single piece of fanart of him was all it took for me to realize that not only had I fallen for him, but that Centaurworld also warranted a watch. Legitimately every second he's on-screen, I can't help but smile like a dork. I cannot get enough of his overly extravagant and egotistic personality.

Zulius was indeed the character I was referring to in the original post I made about Centaurworld a few days ago, and I can say with full confidence that he'll absolutely be on the F/O list in a good few days— really all I have to do is finish the ten episodes to narrow down the perfect image to use for his icon and think up a tag for him.

Once I finish Centaurworld, I plan on designing a S/I for its universe— how could I not? I feel like the artstyle would be very easy for me to replicate, and before even watching the first episode I had a pretty solid idea on what my Centaurworld S/I would look like; I'm thinking it should be a taur with a fauna-based bottom half, kind of like what Glendale has. I was going to settle on a sheep bottom half, but I've got plenty of sheep-based S/Is already.

Overall, what more can I say but what has already been said by a majority of those on tumblr who have given the series a chance: go watch Centaurworld. You will not regret it.

#F/O #F/O Gush #F/O Community #Self-Ship Community #Centaurworld #Zulius #Centaurworld self-shippers I KNOW you're out there.#I say this 'cause eventually I know I'm going to need Centaurworld mutuals to go off about Zulius to lol #What's funny is that I feel like Zulius won't be the only character I F/O from Centaurworld either.#As much as I want to say who else I intend on F/Oing I'm going to hold off until I finish the series #Just in case Centaurworld for some reason... y'know... does anything to the character.#If they do I'm rioting.#All I can say that she's going to be a Familial F/O. That right there should be a H U G E hint.

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beetthereet · 4 years ago

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an analysis on alice oseman’s writing in radio silence (only radio silence since i’ve yet to read any of her other books) because wow this human can wRITE:

(this will contain spoilers so don’t blame me if i did spoil you<3)

this will just be split up to sections because i have a lot to say and this is how i organize my thoughts best.

The way she writes first person P.O.V;

The entirety of ‘Radio Silence’ is written from the perspective of our main character, Fraces Janvier, speaking from a future stand. The entire story is written in a past tense from the perspective of an older Frances who knows what will end up happening, who knows everything.

From someone who enjoys writing, first person point of view is sO HARD TO WRITE. I was honestly mesmerized by the way Oseman wrote this book. Another thing about the writing is that the first-person point of view, truly made the story feel genuine and real. I don’t know what was Alice Oseman’s age while writing this book but it honestly feels like such a true experience of a 17-18 year old who goes a huge change in her life and doesn’t really know what to do with herself, and then finds something she’s passionate about. Truly passionate. It just really feels genuine and true and so I wanted to point it out.

The way the plot builds up;

I think, one of the main reasons Radio Silence is a comforting and fun book that many people enjoy reading _and _rereading, is because of the way the plot is built. Because the book is written in the point of view of Frances, in first person, she describes the plot of the book like she experienced it. It was getting to know someone from ‘saving his drunk ass in a pub’ to ‘this is my very close friend that I truly cherish and don’t want to lose’. And because of that, the entire feel to the plot up to when the universe city fandom figures out that Frances is Toulouse and through that, that Aled is the person behind the anonymous podcast, is so... organic in a way.

The way this book is written truly makes you feel like you’re a little speck of dust in the air, looking down at these two absolute nerds slowly become so close. You have fun with them, you laugh with them, you get shocked with them, you feel with them. You feel with Frances throughout the book in its entirety. Feeling with these characters as they slowly build their friendship is what makes the big blow when tumblr (and the internet) find out Aled’s identity. An identity he wanted to keep secret. He needed to keep that secret. Because there he could be anyone he wanted. He didn’t need to think of what X, Y or Z would think about him after he said this or that. It was his space. And through Frances, we learn that. And we learn how much it matters to him. And like Frances, we want Aled to have this space. To have this bubble.

And as the plot moves forward from that big blow of that tumblr post revealing who Radio is (aka, Aled), we feel with Frances and for her. Because after the action of some anonymous user on the internet, she lost her closest friend at the time. She lost a person she cared so much for. And that is emphasized so well when Aled snaps at Frances outside the pub. When he yells and shouts and says things until Raine takes Frances away. And we feel so bad, with Frances. Because Aled lost his bubble, Frances lost her friend and her safe space, and everyone lost something from the situation.

This is brilliantly brought to light even more with the ‘Childhood Kisses’ episode, where we finally see Daniel talking. We see how bad and heartbroken he feels, and we feel so bad for him because he doesn’t deserve this. None of the main cast of characters did.

And so, Alice Oseman made us feel for her characters. From Aled, to Frances, to Daniel, to Crays, to Raine. We feel for the characters because we care for them.

The stakes;

The stakes in Radio Silence are directly tied into my last point — the way that the plot was built up. Because, if we hadn’t seen Frances and Aled build their friendship like we did we would’ve never cared about how Aled snapped at Frances. We wouldn’t have had any connection to him, and I mean yeah, losing a friend is hard, but if we hadn’t seen that the personal level of empathy to both Frances and Aled would’ve been lacked in this situation.

This is also very well seen in both the time Aled was struggling to keep his identity a secret and the time Carol almost took Aled with her on the train from uni (at the very end). We know Aled and we know how important it is for him to 1) have universe city, 2) be able to keep universe city a secret from the world and his mom specifically, and 3) not go “home” with her because that’s dangerous for him. If we hadn’t seen Aled and Frances grow close (as I’ve mentioned before), these situations would have had no emotional affect on the reader because you wouldn’t have known Aled.

Basically Alice did an amazing job, I’m in awe<33

Alice Oseman will have you falling for each and every one of her plot twists;

In the entirety of the book Alice has planted multiple little ‘traps’ for you, the reader. These ‘traps’ are just pieces of information that are never confirmed to be true, but are assumed to be based on what we know from Frances and the story so far.

Examples; the whole ‘who is February Friday ordeal’, wtf is going on with Aled and Daniel’s relationship, what’s going to be Frances and Alex’s relationship status, whether Aled was going home or not, and so much more because she is good with this shit.

Using the correct tone to convey whatever she wants to, Alice Oseman managed to keep the reader at the edge of their seat, making them think “oh this is so obvious! I know this!” thinking they had figured it out when she is ten steps ahead of you the entire time. That’s such a smart way of keeping your readers interested and invested and she did it in a way that didn’t feel annoying or ‘ugh i didn’t get this right as well damn it’ but in a interesting and enticing way because the clues — and the solution — to the actual answer were and are right in front of you the whole time.