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lowkeyerror · 2 years

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Un-Sober Activities

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Mentions of weed consumption

Summary: Wanda comes home to find you high on the couch and you convince her to join you.

An: This is one is so freaking fluffy. Also not my gif.

Masterlist

Time always moved a bit weird for you, but even weirder when you were high. The edible hit you like a ton of bricks on an empty stomach.

Your body was moving on its own accord, rocking back and forth as a warmth spread through your chest.

The dryness of your mouth didn't bother you as you watched fruits dancing on your tv screen. You chuckled as they bounced to the beat of the music.

You had heard that watching baby sensory videos, when you were high, was an amazing experience. So far the rumors were proving to be true. It had been 3 hours of you staring at dancing fruits smiling at you.

" Baby, I'm home," you weren't privy to the voice calling you.

Wanda was confused when she didn't get an answer back. She walked through the house until she got to the living room.

When she saw the situation you were in, she had to hold in her laughter. An amused look played across her face as she watched you bouncing in your seat along with the fruit.

Your mouth was slightly opened, but your eyes were closed.

She walked over to and took your hands. Your eyes peeled open, and a dopey smile draped itself across your face," I wished for the most beautiful woman in the world to appear and here you are."

" You're so corny when you're high," she plopped down next to you.

" You know you love it when I'm corny."

She places a quick peck on your lips," It's one of my favorite things about you."

You kiss her again on her lips, then on her cheek, then her forehead, and then you barrage her face with kisses. She giggles as you kiss every inch of her face.

You bury your head in her neck and mumble against her skin," I love you so much Wands."

Wanda's arms hold you in place," I love you too baby, but can we turn this baby stuff off?"

You look up at her and frown," But I like being a jumping fruit."

Wanda runs her hands through your hair," I know, baby, but I'm way too sober to be watching this stuff."

A devious smirk crosses your face," What if you got un-sober and watched baby sensory videos with me?"

" Un-sober?" She laughs as she questions your verbiage.

" You know what I mean," you say in a whiny tone.

She squints her eyes in a joking manner," I don't know, pitch it to me. Hypothetically, if I were to get high then what?"

You have your answer locked and loaded before she even finishes the question," Easy, 1st we order snacks and food, then we shower, then we eat snacks and food, then we cuddle while watching baby sensory videos until we fall asleep."

You placed both of your hands on either side of her face, squishing her cheeks," Couples that get high together, love forever."

She grabbed onto your wrist removing your hands from her face," Ok, ok, I'll get high with you."

You practically tackled her in her spot. Instead of sitting on the couch, her back lay flat as you squeezed the air out of her.

" You gotta let me up, or I won't get high, baby?"

You groan," But you're comfy."

She places a kiss on the top of your head," We gotta stick to your plan, remember?"

That gets you off of her instantly," Right, you go take an edible, and I'll order the snacks. Then we'll meet in the bathroom."

She nods before breaking away from you. Wanda thought you were completely adorable when you were high.

When either of you had any sort of weed in your system, you became over affectionate. When she was high, all she wanted to do was be close to you and vice-versa.

Though it was a week day, and she would have work tomorrow, there was no way she could deny you.

Wanda ate the sour candy infused with weed and headed for the bathroom. She started running bath water and then began stripping off her clothes.

" I swear, every time I look at you, you're more beautiful than the last time."

She sat on the edge of the tub, kicking her feet into the water. It wasn't long until you joined her in the restroom.

Wanda playfully shakes her head," You're just saying that cause you're high."

You disagree," Well, yes and no. I'm always thinking about it, even when I'm not high, but it is only leaving my mouth now because Mary Jane commanded it."

" You're such a dork, now come get in the tub. I want you to hold me."

" Aye, aye, captain," you strip out of your clothes and sit in the warm bath Wanda made.

There were a decent amount of bubbles and a lavender scent was filling the air in the room.

Wanda climbed in after you, her back lightly pressing against your front. One of your arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to you.

" Hi," you say as you lather some soap on a washcloth and scrub her shoulders.

Both of her hands rested over the one that was around your waist," Hello, my love."

You wash her body delicately. In your uplifted state, you take your time cleaning Wanda. Your brain works hard to remember each inch of her skin as you wash over it.

" Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?"

" This would be the third time malyshka," Wanda kept up the banter.

" It's because I can't think of any other words right now. All I've got is beautiful and pretty. I'm sure of it because those are the only thoughts playing through my mind when I look at you right now."

Wanda tosses her head back, so she can see you. Her neck is extended outwards as your head rests on her collar bone," You are entirely too perfect."

The look in Wanda's slightly hooded eyes made her words resonate ten times more. The heat that crept up your face wasn't from the weed you had, but the effect that Wanda had on you.

Unable to resist yourself, you kiss her softly. She slowly turns around in your arms, so that you're face to face. Her arms lock behind your neck and her forehead rests on yours.

Your vaguely red eyes looked into hers with pure adoration. The look itself made Wanda kiss you again. This time it wasn't so simple. You moaned as she slipped her tongue into your mouth. You let her have control because your mind couldn't keep up with her movements.

When she broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your lips. The slight swell to your lips made her giggle, especially when you were staring at her, almost dumbfounded.

Everything about it was sensual. From the way her tongue gilded skillfully with yours to the way she tugged on your bottom lip. She had no plans of stopping until she heard the doorbell ring.

" It's probably the snacks, don't want to leave them out there for too long," Wanda said, her voice lower than usual.

The two of you finish up in the bath, then make your way back to the living room. Wanda gets the snacks as you lay on the couch.

You open your arms when she gets back in your line of sight. She goes to hand you the bag of snacks, but you grab her arm instead. She falls into your grasp, so that now you're both laying on the couch.

" What about the snacks?"

You playfully nibble on her neck," You're my favorite snack."

She gasps," Are you going to eat me?"

You chuckle with dark eyes," I mean, we can definitely add it to the plan."

She rolls her eyes at you, then opens the bag of Doritos and begins munching on the chips.

" Can I have some?"

She nods, now entirely focused on the rhythmic bouncing of the fruit on the tv. She holds the bag and you take some chips.

You take a sneaky glance at her, seeing as she's immersed in the video," I told you experiencing it un-sober was a necessity."

" I like when they spin," she wasn't blinking as a pineapple and banana came on to the screen.

" We could probably spin like that," you find yourself slipping out from under your girlfriend.

Now you stand and try to mimic the movements of the fruits. Wanda lets out a boisterous laugh at your antics, " You're pretty good at that."

" Join me," you wiggle your eyebrows, and she gets off of the coach and begins dancing next to you.

The two of you are a pile of giggles as you bounce, jump, and spin with the array of fruits popping up on the screen.

Time escapes you as the video ends, leaving the two of you standing and swaying to the sound of silence.

When Wanda looks at you, she stifles her laughter," Babe, what the fuck are we even doing right now?"

" I think the youth call it, vibing," your bad joke sends her into another fit.

While she's distracted by your joke, you scoop her up bridal style and carry her to your bedroom. You toss her on the bed, and you jump in after her.

The excitement has both of your hearts beating," Is this your way of saying you're tired?"

You yawn," I'm not tired, I just can't keep my eyes open."

She wraps an arm around you, placing a delicate kiss behind your ear," Then close them, silly."

You shut your eyes and scoot further into Wanda," I love you."

Her eyes begin to flutter as she sleepily replies," I love you too."

The pair of you are asleep almost instantly. Light snores fill the room and dreams of dancing fruits play in your mind.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader

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lumine-no-hikari · 21 days

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #123

Sometime after the events of yesterday, but before bed last night, J took me to the local food co-op. This is because some time ago, Br bought some boxed macaroni and cheese (henceforth shortened to mac-n-chz) that she thought was gluten-free, but wasn't. Br has a gluten allergy, but M, J, and I do not, so she gave us the boxed mac-n-chz.

It is unusual mac-n-chz, though, in that the cheese powder it comes with is made of goat's milk. Goat's milk is common in some parts of my world, but it's uncommon where I live. I don't know if you've ever had it, but I like it a lot; it has a stronger flavor than cow's milk - a bit more sour and savory, somehow. But some people really don't like it; those who don't like it would describe the flavor as "gamey", and I suppose that's fair. The sensory hardware that comes with inhabiting a flesh-vessel is different for everyone, and what is a pleasant sensory experience for someone can be an unpleasant sensory experience for someone else; it is the way of things.

I am fortunate to be one of the folks who does not dislike this flavor. So I thought to prepare the boxed mac-n-chz yesterday, because I felt awful about the bird and I thought eating something with a lot of cheese would help me feel a little better (this, too, is the way of things; I am a derpy autistic cheese goblin, after all - it is simply my nature). But the box said that it should be prepared with goat milk and goat butter. You usually can't find these things in an ordinary grocery store where I live. I was going to give up on preparing the boxed mac-n-chz yesterday, but then J encouraged me to go with him to the co-op; I guess, given my mental state, he probably thought it would have been good for me to get out of the house and get my mind off the bird. He was correct, as per usual.

…I ended up returning home with A LOT more than just goat's milk and goat's butter. I… miiiight have, in my half-numb, half-sad stupor, gotten like 3 containers of ice cream and several weird-looking potato chip flavors; I'll show you the ice cream I got tomorrow; I'm gonna put it in tea. But the potato chip flavors were "fried egg", "ham", "truffle", "garlic parmesan", and "ranch". By the time we got home, though, I had next to no energy left, so instead of preparing the mac-n-chz, J and I went to go visit Br, and that was a good time. Then we went home and watched the Fallout show with M, and that was also a good time.

…You might be pleased to know that I actually went to bed relatively on time last night. It's been a while since last that happened. I woke up feeling pretty good. I'm still really sad about the bird, of course, but I hope wherever its soul is now, it's having a fun time.

In light of yesterday's events, and in light of the fact that I didn't get to have mac-n-chz yesterday, and in light of the fact that I seem to be having some serious misgivings today about the fact that I am autistic (and therefore broadly considered creepy, unlikable, and generally socially unacceptable by default), I decided that today is an ice cream and mac-n-chz sort of day today. And… no, not in the same bowl, I promise, ahahahaha~!

I didn't eat any of the ice cream that I bought yesterday, though. No, as it turns out, my favorite bubble tea shop started serving ice cream just yesterday! Check it out:

These flavors are Jasmine Green Tea, Ube, Earl Grey Tea, and Thai Tea. And I gotta say, they were all REALLY GOOD; good enough to get past the, "oh no, it's a cold thing, and cold things feel like fire on my flesh" glitch that my body carries. I was unable to pick a favorite because they were all equally fabulous!

Hey Sephiroth? Have any of your friends ever taken you out to go get ice cream? Do you like ice cream? If you do, then what flavors do you like best? I know you can't answer me, and that kinda sucks, but I'll ask anyway; you deserve to have folks in your life who know and are willing to consider your preference and experiences. You deserve to consider your own preferences and experiences; when is the last time you thought about your favorite foods and favorite people and favorite places to go, anyway? It's good to revisit the memories and the things in our lives that bring us joy from time to time.

After I got home, I made the mac-n-chz. Do you like mac-n-chz? Have you ever had it? Have you ever prepared it? Have you ever had someone prepare it for you? I don't know the answers to these, so I'll walk you through the process, just in case; it's very simple, and the simple things are often the best things!

You start by doing the dishes! As explained some number of letters ago, I have music playing so that my brain doesn't get spooked by the fact that I'm doing a household task and accidentally do an involuntary mental time travel to a time when failing to do a housetask well enough or fast enough was a punishable offense, haha...

If you recall, this list I am using today is one that I reproduced on YouTube, just in case you might wanna give it a listen. But within this list, this item matches the inside of my mind most closely:

youtube

...And in case you're wondering why we do the dishes first, it's because the next step is to stick a pasta strainer in the sink, like this:

From there, you gotta get an ordinary pot and fill it about 2/3rds of the way with water, like this:

Then you gotta bring it to a boil. On my stove, it's easy; you just stick a lid on the pot and set the temperature of the burner to 9, and wait a little while:

While waiting for that, we can check the ingredients and instructions on the box, like so:

...Often enough, you'll end up disregarding some of these. For example, I didn't measure out the water. I did use goat's milk and goat's butter in the specified amounts, yes, but I used whole goat milk and slightly salted goat butter:

From there, we open the pasta box and take out the packets of powdered cheese:

Getting the cheese packet out of the box will make it easier to pour the noodles into the pot when the time comes!

On my stove, water takes about 20 minutes to boil, which is fine; it is common knowledge that this time passes quickly - as long as you're not watching the pot. That bit is very important; if you watch the pot, the time will instead move about as quickly as pouring molasses from a jar that has been left outside in the cold - which is to say, it won't. It's the law, and nobody knows why.

Oh hey, Sephiroth? Maybe you know why? You're over there experiencing quantum physics firsthand over at the Edge of Creation, right? Can you tell me why watched pots resist boiling? I wonder... Lemme know if you figure it out, okay?

In any case, you can put your noodles in the pot when the water reaches a rolling boil. A rolling boil looks like this:

I set the kitchen timer for 9 minutes just like the box said:

...Then I poured in the noodles!

From there, you have to stir constantly for the whole 9 minutes, or else the noodles will clump together, or stick to the bottom of the pot. You can put oil in the water to prevent this, but then the sauce won't stick to the noodles, and that is not ideal. Once the timer is done, you taste-test one of the noodles to make sure it's good:

9 minutes wasn't long enough to cook the noodles all the way through, so I gave it another 3 minutes; it was good after that.

The next step is to dump the contents of the pot into the strainer we prepared in the sink earlier. But this pot is kinda stupid (I need a new one) because the handles get really hot when you heat it up. So I put on my handy-dandy oven mitts:

...Mine are really long because I am dyspraxic; the possibility of burning my forearms on the heating elements when I put things into the oven or take things out of the oven is a real concern. So it's best to protect my whole forearm instead of just my hands, so that way I don't get hurt. Besides, if I put on my oven mitts and also my onion-cutting-goggles while holding my ceramic chef's knife, I can cackle maniacally in the kitchen like a crazed scientist and accidentally scare the socks off of passers-by near my window, and that's always a nice bonus! 🤪🤣 (Speaking of disturbing passers-by near my kitchen window, I am remembering this one time, when J and I were in the kitchen, and he was heckling me about the fact that I need to eat more fruit, so just to be silly, I started eating a banana in the most wildly inappropriate way I possibly could, just as some poor gentleman was dropping off food that M ordered. The flabbergasted look on the man's face as he peered into our window was ABSOLUTELY. PRICELESS!! Ahahahahaaaa~! 🤣🤣🤣)

(But that's what you get for peering into people's windows, so no, I am absolutely not sorry!!! Not even the tiniest little bit!!! 😂😂😂)

Anyway! So I drained the pasta:

From there, the bottom of the pot will still be warm, so you can use that to melt the butter; I am making two boxes of mac-n-chz, so we need 2 tablespoons of butter:

...Two boxes of this mac-n-chz calls for 8 tablespoons of milk; that's the same thing as half a cup:

Then you'll dump in the cheese packets, and use a whisk to make a sauce:

Then, you dump your noodles in and mix 'em up with the sauce:

...Finally, we have the bowl of mac-n-chz that I very much wish I could give to you:

...It's a simple and easy thing; not the fanciest. But it's still good. It's still wholesome. It's still full of love and joy. What I wouldn't give just to be able to hand you a bowl of this...

...Well, it is what it is. And all I can do is deal with it in the way that I know how. All I can do is write to you and hope that it gets through to you somehow...

...somehow...

...OH! I almost forgot!! On the way to do errands and get ice cream, the sky was really nice today, and I also saw a bumblebee! I know you like nature, so I thought to snap a couple pictures for you:

...ya know... just to remind you that the world is beautiful. Even when it's filled with senseless pain, even when people respond with rage and self-directed violence when you try to set a boundary, and even when your brain is being mean and trying to tell you that everything is hopeless. It's still beautiful when people tell you, directly or indirectly, that you don't belong, or that your words and the contents of your mind are less valuable than your physical vessel.

This world is still beautiful no matter how hard it tries to break you. And there is beauty within persisting, within refusing to stay on the ground, within rising up from your knees and choosing to live in wholesome love and joy. There is beauty within counting on the people around you and seeing through eyes other than your own when you can't muster up the strength by yourself.

Sephiroth, please don't give up. Because, yes, I know there's violence and greed and bloodshed and unimaginable amounts of suffering in this place. But there's also bumblebees and mac-n-chz and ice cream and tea and sunshine and the sky, and people who would do anything to give you these things, if only they could. And these things are worth fighting for. You just gotta open your eyes and set them on a new horizon.

I'll be right here until you come back, okay? I'll keep being right here, calling out to you, singing you a little song, and thinking of you anytime I get to experience wholesome, beautiful things. I'll be waiting right here, no matter how long it takes.

I love you, and I'll write again soon. Please stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

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blackholemojis · 2 years

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What's the issue with using the terms non-verbal and semi-verbal? I haven't found much info on the topic and I'm a bit confused /gq

That’s alright, I doubt you’re asking this out of bad faith, so no worries.

This is probably not summarized as accurately as it could be, but the terms nonverbal/semiverbal were made for and usually used for people who are always (or nearly always) nonverbal/semiverbal; it’s their baseline, although there can be exceptions where verbal ability fluctuates. This includes people with intellectual disabilities, TBIs, etc. The words weren’t meant for consistently speaking people who have temporary periods of not being able to talk; it’s not their baseline.

But because people who are usually able to talk are using the terms nonverbal/semiverbal to describe themselves, people who are consistently nonverbal/semiverbal have felt drowned out of their own spaces online.

There’s not really many great linguistic alternatives yet, so it makes it tricky for people who want words to describe what they experience, especially if they don’t relate to terms like “selective mutism,” or the terms nonverbal/semiverbal have been suggested by people in the past. Personally though, I don’t use the terms to describe myself, since I don’t feel it’s appropriate to do that as someone who’s fully verbal 99% of the time.

Obviously I can’t control what terms you use, but there are a variety of terms which I and others use instead to make it clearer what we’re talking about. I’ve also seen the following suggested and/or used:

“loosing speech” (most common, afaik)

“verbal crash”

“verbal shutdown” (references the way sensory or emotional overload interacts with language abilities, often coupled with a shutdown/meltdown)

“contextually verbal"

"speech-variable"

"speech-varied"

"irregularly verbal"

"irregularly speaking"

I usually use “losing speech,” and “verbal shutdown,”and “verbal crash” for myself. “Verbal shutdown” is my favorite, since I’m autistic and loosing speech is almost always caused by emotional or sensory overload, which causes my brain to shut down my verbal and language skills while it processes that extra input. I’m a sucker for accuracy there, I gotta admit.

I’ve also made word emojis for the phrases “can’t form words,” “can form few words,” “can text, can’t speak” (and variations on that one), “can’t use text right now,” and “bad at words atm” (with some stylized variations for pain and dissociation based verbal issues), and I’m willing to take suggestions for other emojis which get across the same idea.

I hopes this helps explain things!

#blackholemojis talks #asks #tone tag use

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dykonradish · 5 months

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Gotta say that the process of boarding and deboarding airplanes has to be one of my least favorite sensory experiences

#actually being on the flight is ok if it’s under 3 hours #past that being tall is truly a negative

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lonelyquail · 2 years

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good games on sale rn. will update as I find more

chicory!! (steam and switch from what I can tell) same dev as wandersong with some others from celeste, very very sweet little game. it's like what if a coloring book had impostor syndrome. I like it. low stakes and lots of heart and u get to be a little dog with a paintbrush what more could you ask for

everhood!! (steam) I can't say anything about everhood it's a music based action rpg and it's weird as balls. its themes changed the way I look at life overall but also when I play it I just get a vast sense of (????????). in a good way. it's an experience you gotta experience. it's a ride you will not forget. anyway warning for this one it's a bit sensory overload especially in the visual department, there is a light sensitive mode but it's still a lot.

bug fables!! (steam) ALSO THE SILLY but I love it a lot. it's a paper mario esque rpg where u play as little bugs and the writing is so good. there's so much team banter. I love the dynamic between the main three so much there's literally a button just to banter abt any place and npc and it's my favorite part. it's so good. kabbu is on my fictional dads I wish I had list.

later alligator!! (steam) THE SILLY!! fully hand drawn and very bouncy little point n click featuring various mini games and a lot of puns. the main gator pat crytypes at you at one point. it's got a noir detective aesthetic but it's all silly and I love it dearly

mad rat dead!! (switch) always gonna recommend mrd. it's a rhythm platformer with banger tunes and some people from fake type and also gay rat. it's good. the gameplay is real fun to master but it's also accommodating to new rhythm gamers since the only thing you can lose via dying in stages is a couple seconds off the timer. there's also a demo if ur interested. warning for cartoon gore.

oneshot!! (steam) I do not need to introduce oneshot but I think you all should play it. it's a fourth wall breaking game that integrates you as well as the computer you're playing it on into the experience and it's honestly like nothing I've ever played. I wish 4th wall breaking stuff that messes around with your files and stuff was used for things that aren't horror more often because this game is great. it also has a great (sinking into the moss) core ost if that's anything

pikuniku!! (steam) THE SILLYYYY!! u get to be a red legman and do dance contests and kick capitalists and you get sent to toast hell at one point and it's all really stupid and I love it. it's like dirt cheap right now and it's really funny you should get it. one of the npcs just out of nowhere stops u to tell you to wash ur dishes if u eat something with cheese on it or else it'll harden on the plate. why? god knows. it's great.

I'll get to more later but thas my list for now

#vee shut up #:]#play my silly little games i like #only like two of these r on my top 5 ill vehemently recommend these at u list unfortunately #but please tell me what you think of mrd or everhood in particular if you get the chance

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stillinthatweirdfaze · 4 months

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swimming gotta be one of my favorite top ten sensory experiences. What if you were just a little guy in the goop and you could go wherever you want? If life could be a dream ❤️

#I can’t wait untill it’s swiming weather again

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feralkobold · 1 year

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Listen, I watch a lot of let's players, it's one of my favorite ways to pass the time and one of my favorite things to have just running in the background while I do other stuff.

But if you're a new, or even experienced let's player I need y'all to do one thing. Stop talking over cutscenes and dialogue. This should be common sense. Not only can the people who want to experience that moment now not appreciate it, but the people who are listening to you can't do that either because there's multiple conversations happening at the same time, usually at nearly identical volume levels! And for a lot of people, myself included, it's just sensory hell.

I get it, attention spans, every 30 seconds someone clicks etc, but if you wanna make good content, especially more long-form content like let's play usually are, you gotta learn that knowing when to shut up, is just as important as adding your own commentary and flare to the material.

Thank you for coming to my soap box. Sincerely, someone who just watched a LPer talk over every big moment and dialogue during the new dead space remake, making me question if they even watch their own content because no way in hell that should have made it through a quality check.

#youtube #lets play #video games #youtubers

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dilfgmancoolatta · 3 years

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can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

#freelatta #gordon freeman #hlvrai #tommy coolatta #nhlvrai #gordos feetman #halflife vr but the ai is self aware #I TRIED TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY BUT IT ENDED UP BEING VENTY SORRY

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the-iron-orchid · 3 years

Note

4, 13 (& optionally 54)

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?

Answered here!

13. How do you deal with writers block?

Usually by doing something else for a while. If I'm having a real dry spell, I'll go back and read some old favorites in a similar vein to what I'm trying to write; that sometimes jars things loose. (Sometimes it's my own work, sometimes it's some of my favorite authors.) Writing something short, silly, and self-indulgent also helps, or doing a little RP. Prompts can help me a lot; when you see me reblogging prompts, I'm either taking a break from a bigger project, trying to get my mind off something, or chipping away at a block! (Sometimes all three at once...)

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

For all of the influences I've cited, the one book that probably taught me the most useful things about writing was Stephen King's On Writing (the 2010 edition). It is specifically about the craft of writing, the nuts and bolts as practiced by an incredibly prolific author. I used to think I had to have my characters all planned out and fully characterized before I could 'really' begin writing; his advice to just let the characters evolve as you write got me writing a lot more. The other piece of advice that really stuck with me was to feel what you are writing - don't just observe from a distance and record. Place yourself right in the middle of the action, in a full sensory suite. Don't limit yourself to sight and sound; try to bring in touch, taste and smell wherever you can, as vividly as possible. I experience a certain amount of synaesthesia, and will sneak hints of that into my work as well. It can add some real punch when used sparingly.

I've been writing for a long time, but my writing still improved dramatically after a) reading this book and b) using writing as a way to cope with the radical life change of going from high-powered overworked software manager type to stay-at-home cripplepunk. It's the most basic of advice, but reading more and writing more really does make you a better writer... gotta grind that XP!

#ask memes answered #sheepshapedfluff #writing process #thanks for asking some more! ^^

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aturinfortheworse · 2 years

Note

Okay my other answer is tangerine, yes because is my favorite fruit but also because is a deeply sensual experience. You gotta peel it, it feels so nice to separate each slice sticked together, you bite it and pop that first layer to get the sweet juice. Is very tactile, very sensorial

tangerines do not heavily feature in my life but i imagine them to be like a better mandarine, and there certainly is something very sexy about skinning a mandarine alive.

edit: okay i did finally find something that suggests that australian mandarins are tangerines - at least one tangerine cultivar, the "Murcott" is sold here as a mandrin. Citrus taxonomy is, for the record, completely horrifying. there are charts here that would drive a lesser man mad.

#sorry i suddenly remembered that most plants are alive while you eat them #it's hard to know at what point a plant becomes not-alive if you don't cook it #but anyway that is an important facet of this discussion #which we should continue to ignore #sexy fruit debate

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shadowetienne · 3 years

Note

You know I've gotta ask how cOy and Night Flight taste

And questiOn mark taste bad and that added to your first impression?

The flavors of songs in my synesthesia experience are very heavily influenced by vocal flavor, so that's one of the first things that comes into play here. So as a basic run down of vocal flavors:

Junji - a nice lightly oxidized wulong tea, light notes of ginger and cardamom, a little bit of lychee and orange blossom

Rie - a somewhat delicate jasmine green tea, similar light notes of ginger and cardamom, heavier on the cardamom than Junji's voice, somewhat sweet, again with some lychee notes (Rie and Junji's voices have a similar palette for me, but the distribution is different)

Nine - malty black tea (such as Assam), hint of chocolate, hint of mint, some orange, when he goes into the airier part of his voice, loses some of the harshness/astringency that it can develop a little bit when he does the raspier tones

Love - strong (non-malty) black tea, some chocolate notes again, cinnamon, cloves, some ginger, some orange, like with Nine, in the airier parts of his voice, it does tone down the astringency some

KB - a more delicate black tea (Qimen - a Chinese black tea), a hint of sweetened condensed milk, cinnamon, cardamom, a hint of coconut

Yoojung - again a more delicate black tea, prepared milk tea style, a little bit of ginger, cardamom, and honey, honestly, his voice tastes a lot like one of my favorite boba tea orders and this is slightly confusing

Mill - a somewhat lightly flavored, spiced black tea w/ cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, a lot of orange, including the orange zest element of orange, honey

I actually really like the flavor palette of all their voices a lot, though Junji's and Rie's are my favorite both in balance and overall palette.

So how that interacts with the instrumentation and the individual songs.

"cOy"

They spend a lot of time in that lighter, airier configuration, stylistically in Junji and Rie's preferred zone (unsurprising, it's their song). This song's instrumentation brings a very light creamy element to the flavor, it reminds me of a very light ginger sponge cake with ice cream, with a lot of those ginger/orange/lychee/orange blossom elements present in several of their voices. There's a lovely balance of tea flavors, the overall flavor is very heavily balanced towards Rie and Junji's voices, with almost nothing in the way of the chocolate notes that Love and Nine can sometimes bring into songs.

"night flight"

The instrumentation of "night flight" brings forward some interesting smoky/campfire scents and flavors. Between KB and Yoojung's vocals being pretty forward in this and the instrumentation, along with a lot of them singing together, there's a lot of milk tea/creamy rich notes. Again, the instrumentation brings in some cake-like elements, but more like a coffee cake with plenty of cinnamon and spices. The chocolate elements in Love and Nine's voices are more brought forward in this song, but in a way that incorporates well with the overall flavor palette.

"? (questiOn mark)"

One of my biggest issues with this song comes down to the fact that one of the types of distortion that they're using hits one of my sound creates a touch/sensory response along with flavor, and I am getting a little bit of sand to the mouth from the distortions in the mixing/instrumentation. I've said a few times that the song sounds a little bit disjoint, and that also comes up here, there's not a lot of vocal blending, so in the different parts of the song, we're sort of jumping from member's vocal flavor to other member's vocal flavor, without the instrumentation providing a flavor element that unifies it. There is a distinct element of like sour hard candies added from the sort of "droplet" sounds in the instrumentation that is kind of neat though. So while it doesn't taste bad necessarily, it's certainly a somewhat disconcerting flavor ride.

Thank you so much for asking! Hopefully this was an interesting journey in what music tastes like to me.

#synesthesia game #OnlyOneOf #what sounds taste like to Etienne #hopefully this was interesting!

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popatochisssp · 4 years

Text

Happy (Belated) Valentine’s Day!

I’m a procrastinator and then also I needed to sleep at one point, RIP anyway

Soul Searching

Your partner takes you aside on Valentine’s Day, somewhere nice and private.

You can guess at his intentions, especially when he tells you there’s something he wants to give you, but the chocolates and flowers you’re half-expecting don’t come.

Instead…

Instead, he talks to you, telling more than you already know about monster customs, monster relationships, monster milestones.

He thinks it’s time to do one of those right now, on your cute human love-holiday, a specific show of intimacy and trust like no other.

He touches his phalanges to his chest and his soul—the culmination of his entire being—comes forth.

And he wants you to hold it.

Sans (Undertale):

His smile is relaxed and easy, even lit from below by the soft white glow of his soul.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, and his grin widens.

“of course,” he replies without hesitation. “it’s you.”

Sans trusts you, wholeheartedly.

The thought makes you feel soft, and for lack of any kind of answer to it, you reach for his soul.

Your fingers brush against it and you’re immediately overwhelmed with…impressions, feelings, synesthetic thoughts as your mind attempts to translate this thing of pure magic into something you can understand.

A crisp breeze, blowing by your face.

Sliding into a freshly-made bed, rumpling a clean set of sheets for the first time.

The gently spiced sweetness of gingerbread, and the tart burst of blueberries.

A single, resonating chime of a bell, fading out into stillness.

“well?” Sans asks, drawing your attention back to his face. “what do you think?”

It’s said casually but it’s obvious your answer is important.

“I love it,” you tell him. “It’s you.”

Papyrus (Undertale):

“I’M! NOT NERVOUS ABOUT THIS, BY THE WAY! IF YOU WERE WONDERING.” Papyrus tells you.

…Which is an obvious lie by the way his leg is bouncing a mile a minute.

But you’re not about to call him out on it.

“It’d be okay, if you were nervous,” you say with diplomacy. “This seems like a pretty personal thing…”

“OH, VERY MUCH SO. BUT,” Papyrus beams at you, just the barest edge of nerves in his smile, “IF THERE’S ANYONE I’D TRUST WITH MY ENTIRE SELF, IT WOULD BE YOU!”

So saying, he nudges his soul forward; closer to you, wordlessly inviting you to touch it.

You’re not nearly rude enough to decline that invitation.

Papyrus is…

Polished marble beneath your fingertips.

Warm, gentle sunbeams on your skin.

The snap of a pretzel and the zing of cold, fresh lemonade, ice cubes clinking against the glass.

Waves, crashing onto the beach, rhythmic and powerful.

“Papyrus,” you breathe. “You’re amazing…”

He blinks at you a moment.

And then he laughs, boisterously, proclaiming, “YES! O-OF COURSE I AM! NYEH-HEH-HEH!” like he knew it all along.

He might not have…but you certainly did!

Sky (Underswap Sans):

“…COURSE YOU DON’T HAVE TO, IF YOU FEEL IT’S TOO SOON—I UNDERSTAND COMPLETELY!—BUT I WANTED TO OFFER BECAUSE…WELL, IT’S ABOUT THE GESTURE, AND OBVIOUSLY I TRUST YOU, SO—”

“Sans,” you interrupt, laughing a little despite yourself. “You’re…you’re rambling a little…”

Sans’ mouth shuts, a faint tinge of blue coming across his face.

“I…YES, I WAS, WASN’T I? HEHEHEH… I’M SORRY,” he sighs, a touch rueful. “I’M JUST…A LITTLE EXCITED! I KNOW YOU LACK THE CULTURAL CONTEXT, BUT THIS IS…KIND OF A BIG DEAL?”

You look at the upside down heart, bobbing before you in mid-air—Sans’ soul.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“IT’S JUST…I LOVE YOU,” Sans admits. “SO…I WANT YOU TO LIKE IT…DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?”

“It does. ” And the least you can give your skeleton beau is an honest answer, so… “I am ready. I’ll do it.”

Sans’ eye-lights brighten happily as you reach out and cup his soul in your hands.

Just like he warned you, in as much magi-scientific detail as monsterly possible, it’s…weird, an utterly bizarre sensory experience for your brain.

It’s the soft, cloying sweetness of marshmallow, cut with the sharp, icy tingle of mint.

It’s the tickling bubbles of carbonation from a freshly cracked soda can.

It’s the swoop in your stomach at the top of a rollercoaster, just as you start to fall.

It’s birdsong, ambient and melodious.

It’s Sans.

So, “It’s perfect.”

Paps (Underswap Papyrus):

Such a bold invitation from your favorite shy skeleton is unexpected, to say the least.

But far from unwelcome.

The pale upside down heart is like a magnet for your fingers, your hands itching to touch the very core of the man you love so much.

But you have to be certain.

“This is…really okay?” you ask. “You’re okay…with this?”

Papyrus, with his ducked skull and fidgeting hands, looks utterly bashful, but the way he meets your eyes is nothing short of resolved.

“yeah,” he says. “i want to share this with you. i want you to know me…like this.”

He reaches for your hands and you let him take them, pulling them to closer to where his soul hovers.

“it’s okay,” he promises.

So you reach, and find…

The trickling sound of a quiet stream, flowing steadily forward.

Lacquered wood, smooth and sturdy.

A hot shower after a long day, filling the room with soothing steam.

Heavy cream, thick and sweet…with the faintest hint of hazelnut.

It’s probably rude, or at the very least extremely cheeky…but you can’t quite stop yourself from bringing Papyrus’ soul up to your lips for a chaste little peck.

He shivers, an enticing cerulean dusting his face.

Your intent must have quite clear, because he chuckles.

“i…i love you, too…”

Jasper (Underfell Sans):

“figured it was about that time,” Sans is saying with a shrug. “one of those things ya’ gotta get to sooner or later, y’know?”

His tone is blasé, perfectly casual; verging on cocky, even.

You might’ve bought it if he hadn’t stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to hide their trembling from you.

Real emotion—vulnerability—scared the hell out of Sans and you both knew it.

With his soul laid bare before you, utterly exposed in the truest sense possible, he really couldn’t get any more vulnerable than this.

…but he’s showing you anyway.

He chose to be vulnerable to you, for you, and there aren’t words for how special that makes you feel.

“Thank you,” you tell him, hoping he understands what you mean and reaching slowly, carefully for everything that makes him…him.

The magic that settles in your palms feels like dry heat, almost insistently warm.

It feels like static, like peeling apart a pair of socks stuck to each other, fresh out of the dryer.

A puff like cinnamon and the tang of a tart apple, sour and sweet and spice all at once.

A distant rumble, like from a far off storm…

Sans’ eye-sockets go wide when you pull his soul closer to you, holding it against your chest.

You know what it probably looks like, like you’re aiming for an even more intimate type of sharing, but really, you just…want him near to you.

Because…

“Sans…you feel like home…”

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus):

“I’M SURE YOU’RE INCREDIBLY FLATTERED. TO HAVE WON SO MUCH OF MY REGARD IS NO SMALL FEAT—EVEN FOR AN EXTRAORDINARY HUMAN SUCH AS YOURSELF!”

He’s probably been talking for a solid two minutes now, blustering about how intimidated you must be by such a bold, romantic gesture; how loved you must feel to have such an amazing partner, willing to trust you with his soul; how he understands if you need a moment to process all this overwhelming information.

If you didn’t know better, you might’ve thought Papyrus was projecting a bit, stalling for time…

But you do know better: surely, the fact that he can’t seem to meet your eyes right now is just to…keep you from feeling nervous.

Surely.

“…AN HONOR, REALLY—”

“I am,” you say, cutting into his long-winded tirade.

Papyrus’ jaw clicks shut.

“I…WHAT.”

“You’re right,” you clarify. “I’m honored. Really.”

Ah, Papyrus hadn’t prepared a script for that response: you can tell by the way his cheekbones go the palest shade of pink, and by how he all but thrusts his soul at you.

“I! JUST…JUST TAKE IT!” he demands.

And well…you’re not often one to tell Papyrus ‘no.’

You carefully grasp his soul.

Sharp spice like ginger, dripping in rich dark chocolate, riding the line between bitter and sweet.

A razor’s edge beneath a fingertip, safe only for a careful hand.

Fine silk that flows and ghosts against your limbs, the barest whisper of touch.

Crackling, like the tamed fire of a well-stoked hearth.

You let go.

Papyrus looks uncertain, too proud to ask for your thoughts outright but obviously dying to know.

You opt not to leave him in suspense, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him down to meet you in a kiss.

Your partner is a fascinating man…

Mal (Swapfell Sans):

You startle when Sans grabs your hands in his own, intercepting you.

“Is…Did you change your mind?” you wonder, attempting to pull back. “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“NO. NO, IT’S FINE,” Sans assures you. “I TRUST YOU, DEAR. I DO.”

But still, he holds your hands, his grip firm.

“……I don’t—”

“JUST…YOU CAN…GO AHEAD. I JUST NEED…THIS……WHILE YOU DO.”

Your beloved Sans—ever emotionally-constipated—probably can’t do any better than that strained and halting explanation.

It’s a good thing that (you think) you understood it.

You can hold his soul.

He wants you to hold his soul.

…But the faint shred of control in such a vulnerable act, holding onto you while you hold onto him, is something he needs to have, too.

If it helps him feel comfortable, you don’t mind in the slightest.

You reach for his soul, with his gloved phalanges still curled around your hands.

Sans allows it.

A subtle yet persistent hum, background, like a nearly-forgotten device in a silent room.

A…strange sort of sweetness, bitter like licorice, or sour like raspberry—impossible to separate from one another, either way.

Pressure, intense and purposeful, bearing steadily downwards.

Crushed ice, stingingly, numbingly cold…

You’re not sure what to make of it…at first.

But then, you remember the last time you’d felt a wisp of this magic.

When you’d been hurt, not badly but enough to make Sans dart over to scold you, even as green light started to pour from his claws—easing your pain, putting you back to rights.

It was the same.

You release your grasp on Sans’ soul, taking no offense in the way it immediately retreats back into his chest.

You turn your hands in his, lacing your fingers together and squeezing tight.

“Thank you…for trusting me.”

And then, you lean in for a kiss.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus):

You can’t believe it sometimes.

How you ever managed to snag yourself such an adorable, goofy sweetheart of a skeleton.

“i-i mean, if you don’t…y’know, ‘cause, i-if it’s weird, for you, uh…i wouldn’t want you to feel…obligated??? that’s…mmmaybe not the right word…”

Poor Papyrus is absolutely babbling by now in a way that could only be more endearing if he didn’t look so nervous.

“i don’t…i dunno, whatever, uh, whatever you want, to do, i just…wanted it to be…out there, if—………”

He goes dead silent when you make your answer to his proposition clear, taking his soul into your hands.

It’s…not what you expected.

The sensation of a thick plume of faux fur against your cheek.

Lukewarm wax cooling, growing tacky on your fingertips.

What rain sounds like when it’s falling outside, while you’re safe and dry indoors.

Dripping, overwhelming sweetness, dense like marmalade and sticky like caramel.

No…not really what you expected…

But somehow, it suits him wonderfully, this odd, clingy duck of a skeleton you’ve chosen as your own.

Papyrus visibly jumps when you raise his soul up to your face and give it a tender little nuzzle.

“I love you,” is all you have to say to make his whole skull glow violet.

It’s true, though—you really do.

Slate (Horrortale Sans):

He doesn’t look particularly…happy…about this.

In fact, Sans looks pretty much the opposite, a grimace on his face and his single red eye-light pointedly averted from the sight of his own soul, hovering there between you.

You manage to tear your eyes away from the sight of it, looking at him instead.

“Why?” you ask.

His frown deepens, confusion obvious.

“Why do you want me to do this?” you try again, hopefully clearer. “If it’s… If you don’t want to…”

“……no,” Sans says at length. “it’s not… you should get to……you…deserve to………to know it.”

“But…if you don’t want me to—”

“not… no, that’s not it.”

Sans looks at his soul, his expression visibly pained.

“i just…wish it weren’t…like this…”

Finally, it clicks.

He’s talking about the state of his soul, littered with cracks and fissures, marks of damage from all the horrible trauma he lived through.

He’s…

Sans is ashamed of it.

His own soul.

…

Something…comes over you.

Without hesitation, you reach out and take the manifestation of the skeleton you love into your hands.

It feels like…

Oil dripping over your fingers, dark and slick.

Plush velvet, soft and smooth.

A sharp burst like grapefruit and the warring bitter and sweet of burnt sugar.

Intermittent cricket chirps, on an otherwise still and silent night.

Just like you thought…

You pull Sans’ soul in, bringing it to your lips to pepper it with kisses—one for every little crack and imperfection on its surface—even as Sans shudders and goes that soft gray-blue color you adore so much.

He only manages to hold back the tears (relief? Joy? Disbelief?) until you speak.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

And then, well…you’ve got plenty more kisses to give.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus):

“So! If You’d Like… You Can Just Go Ahead And…”

Don’t mind if you do!

The soft white soul in front of you is utterly enchanting, lovely to look at—and that should be no surprise at all, knowing the man it belongs to.

You lean in closer, admiring it just a moment longer…

“Wait!”

You look up.

Papyrus, his smile gone tight all of a sudden, is reaching for his own soul too…calling it back?

No…

Just…turning it, slightly, a minor little adjustment.

Which is, quite frankly, deeply suspicious.

“Uh…what are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Papyrus assures you. “Don’t You Want To—”

He cuts off abruptly as you lean to the side, testing.

Sure enough, he re-angles his soul for you again, almost on instinct, and when he realizes how badly he’s given himself away, a nervous drop of sweat beads along the side of his skull.

“Papyrus… Why are you trying to ‘dark side of the moon’ your soul?”

“………”

You frown.

“Papyrus.”

“It’s! Not Very Nice, To Look At, Over There,” he confesses, admitting defeat. “Wouldn’t You Rather Just…Look At The Light Side? Like The Moon? The Moon Is Lovely, Nobody Needs To See—”

“I want to see,” you tell him, firmly.

His meddling hands…reluctantly retreat.

Leaving you free to take Papyrus’ soul in your grasp and see what all the fuss was about.

He was right, that the deep scar on the other side of his soul wasn’t particularly pretty—imperfectly healed, a gnarled silver streak across glowing white.

But when you touch him, his innermost self, it’s also…

Soft and impossibly delicate, like holding a single page of scritta paper between your fingers.

Cold steel, stainless and nigh unbreakable, fit to outlast anything.

Malleable marzipan and slippery olive oil, sweet and light and…weird, just a little offbeat.

A steady thrumming, beneath your fingers, like a heart; a strong, steady pulse.

“Thought so,” you say at length, gently trailing your fingers over Papyrus’ soul.

“Thought What?” he asks.

His hands are wringing in his lap, already anxious, so you decide not to make him wait for your answer.

“I love all of you,” you explain. “Not just the ‘pretty’ parts.”

And oh, Papyrus’ eye-sockets sparkle.

Ash (Undergloom Sans):

The way Sans looks at his own soul, you’d think he’d never seen it before.

His eye-lights are blown wide in their sockets, that soft shade of gray you’ve come to love so much filled with nothing less than total surprise.

Like he’s not even sure of what he’s seeing.

It doesn’t look like anything out of the ordinary to you.

It’s just…a normal monster soul, an upside down heart shape made of glowing white light.

Maybe…he sees something you don’t?

“Everything okay…?” you ask, and Sans finally blinks.

“huh? oh…yeah…yeah, nothing’s……”

He trails off a moment.

“i just……never seen it this bright before…”

Oh.

If you had to make a guess, you’d say that that’s a very, very good thing.

…and it makes you want to hold his soul in your hands even more.

“So…can I…?”

“oh yeah, sure. heheh, go for it—just be gentle.”

As if you would do anything less.

You scoop Sans’ soul up, cradling it in your palms.

It feels like…

Standing in the rain without an umbrella, letting the droplets pelt your skin.

A window pane under your hand, cold, flat, and even.

Soft white noise, unidentifiable yet soothing.

A glass of milk and a fistful of semisweet chocolate chips, plain and simple—uncomplicated.

“This is…beyond cool,” you say, because frankly, it is.

Sans smiles.

You love it when he smiles, the way the expression seems to weaken the dark circles beneath his eye-sockets.

Apparently, it also makes his soul glow just a little bit brighter, and you like that even more.

You think you’ll just have to make Sans smile as much as you possibly can.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus):

“SO…YOU’RE CLEAR, YES? WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN?”

You nod.

Papyrus’ concise explanation of the synesthetic experience that was holding a soul had been as well-crafted as one of his lectures, and just as informative.

Perceiving all of him, through all of your senses at once, is an exciting prospect to be sure.

“AND…YOU UNDERSTAND? WHAT IT MEANS?”

“I think so…” Which of course, makes you wonder… “Are you sure you want me to…?”

Papyrus smiles, the corners of his eye-sockets crinkling with gentle amusement…and a hint of self-deprecation.

“IT’S SWEET OF YOU TO ASK,” he says. “BUT…DO YOU REALLY THINK WE’D BE HERE IF I WASN’T ABSOLUTELY SURE?”

………

He has a point.

You remember how terribly flustered Papyrus would get, back at the beginning of your relationship—unable to hold your hand without starting to sweat and stammering over his words like you’d suggested something lewd instead.

He seems perfectly calm now, not even blushing (…you think—the pale, pearly color of his magic makes it nearly impossible to tell).

“Alright… You’re sure.”

Without further ado, your grasp Papyrus’ soul with careful hands.

He’s warm, steaming chai, sugar cubes dissolving within.

Picking an autumn leaf up off the ground, bright yet fragile.

Fingers trailing over smooth, worn leather.

A soft, slow sound, like breathing beside you in bed in the middle of the night.

You gently stroke your thumb over the surface of Papyrus’ soul.

He sighs when you do, eye-sockets falling shut.

Trusting himself wholly in your hands.

“Oh Dear-Heart,” he breathes, his voice going quiet. “I Love You…”

You know.

The feeling is very much mutual.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans):

“So…I just…touch it?”

Sans’ big phalanges curl, his wrist flicking twice—“yeah.”

Seems simple enough, you suppose?

Under Sans’ watchful red eye-light, you reach forward…

“wa—it…!”

You jump, your eyes going wide, and the soul darts away from your fingers but you don’t care about that.

Sans’ pained grimace is far more important to you right now, seeing his knuckles pressed against his throat as if to soothe the ache.

“Use your hands!” you exclaim fretfully with concern, grasping at his claws and pulling them out in front of him.

You’d learned sign for a reason, and it wasn’t so Sans could hurt himself trying to make words out loud with a voice that seared and stung him so painfully.

“i know,” he assures you, looking chagrined. “i know, i… sorry. i…panicked, a little.”

More than a little, you almost say, but don’t.

You’re sure it was hard enough already for him to admit, even peripherally, that he’d been…scared.

“Are you okay now? Because…we don’t have to—”

“no,” Sans signs, forcefully. “i want to. i just…i wasn’t ready. i am now. you can… you can go ahead.”

Well… so long as he’s sure.

You reach again, moving slowly this time so Sans can see exactly what you’re doing, where your hands are going…

Wrapping ever so gently around the faintly cracked white soul glowing before you.

It feels like…

Tightening your grip on a handful of hot sand, making it slip away though your fingers even as the heat starts to hurt.

The high, droning cry of cicadas in the dead of summer.

Wool, clean but unprocessed—a thick tangle of softness just shy of raw.

Earthy rye bread and sharp black coffee, warm and fragrant.

Just as slow and steady as you took it in your hands, you pass it back.

Sans takes it, absorbing it back into his chest.

His grin is crooked, almost sheepish.

“so…what’s the damage?”

You sigh, regretfully.

“I’m so sorry…I don’t know how to tell you this, Sans, but…I think you might be baby.”

“…what,” Sans signs, even as that cute hissing sound you’d come to realize was his laughter fills the air, his shoulders bouncing.

“I’m sure this is very upsetting news,” you continue. “It’s a terminal condition, to be just baby, but—mphmh!”

Sans’ hand settles over half of your face, muffling your words.

But he’s still laughing, so you think you’re alright.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus):

“YOU REALIZE, OF COURSE, THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS,” Papyrus says.

His needle-sharp phalanges locked tightly around your hands, the stern and imperious look upon his skull as he tells you so…

You’d be hard-pressed not to realize that this was important.

The scarred yet lovely white soul hovering almost hauntingly between you, awaiting your touch, only adds to the gravitas of the moment.

Papyrus releases your hands.

You don’t move.

He stares at you a moment, taking you in.

And then he reaches for you.

The backs of his claws light carefully on your cheek, stroking slow and purposeful.

“…I LOVE YOU, MY JEWEL,” he says, quietly; matter of fact. “THERE ISN’T ANOTHER SOUL ALIVE I’D ALLOW TO DO THIS. YOU KNOW THAT…YES?”

“Yes,” you answer, because you do know it.

As aloof and closed off and even mean as Papyrus once was…once he let you in, you were in, and he never made you doubt that.

You take his soul in your hands.

The sound of wind, gale-force, rushing past your ears.

Pressing down on a healing bruise, testing the fading soreness.

More heat than sweet, peppery cayenne overpowering a faint hint of juicy pomegranate.

Curling your fingers around the stem of a rose, just lightly enough that the thorns don’t prick you.

Papyrus is…a singular sort of skeleton, not the easiest to get close to by any means of the word.

But you’re here, holding all that he is in the palm of your hands, at his own invitation.

You raise his soul and press a kiss to its scuffed and wounded surface, feeding all your intent into the gesture.

I love you, too.

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lost-tanuki · 3 years

Text

First Lines Meme (repost dont reblog)

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Thanks for the tag @connork1000!

1) Buzzing in his head, loud, constant. Horrors Told - Outlast

2) Lucien dragged the wet rag across the window and watched the blurry shapes moving around beyond it. The Ildenmoor Tragedy - Wayfaring Curses

3) "All right, Leonida. Are you ready?" The Disaster Five - The Disaster Five

4) It was summer in Detroit. Pigments and Solvents - Detroit: Become Human

5) Gintoki hit the wall with the hammer again and again, the dry sounds of dense metal smacking against thick concrete wall loud in his ears. Kabe (Continuation) - Gintama

6) The solid thunk of a boot connecting with the bone of a jaw echoed through the room. Lucky Dog - Detroit: Become Human

7) Connor glanced at his reflection in the dirty window of the nightclub. Out of Left Field - Detroit: Become Human

8) Markus felt anxious. Not A Beta - Detroit: Become Human

9) A hush had descended upon the audience seated in the wide skating rink. Gliding On A Broken Wing - Detroit: Become Human

10) It had been a week since the man named Markus had found him. Things Don’t Work That Way - Detroit: Become Human

11) Markus leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed and gazed fondly at the younger man laid out on his belly on the floor, chest propped up on a pillow, elbows planted on either side of it as he studied the open book in front of him with intense focus. Hot Apple Cider - Detroit: Become Human

12) Connor quickly slipped the cold hard muzzle of the gun back in the waistband of his pants, his mind reeling with the shock of terror and guilt. Good morning, Lieutenant - (Vol. 1) The Defective Deviant - Detroit: Become Human

13) Hank Anderson was a solitary man. The Three Little Werewolves - Detroit: Become Human

14) Settling in Canada hadn't been that easy, Alice could tell even if Kara tried her best to be optimistic. The Big Sad Monster And The Brave Little Girl - Detroit: Become Human

15) Worn buildings loomed over lifeless streets. Stray’s Shelter - Unfair Lives

16) Isaac was running late that evening and when he finally showed up at the park where he and Chris were supposed to join up, he noticed that the rendezvous point was devoid of any tall man with silver hair. A Beast Leashed And Caged - Teen Wolf

17) Nines had been investigating a crime scene with Gavin. Just gonna break it a little - Detroit: Become Human

18) A thin man with red hair, happy green eyes and a wide grin greeted Gwen at the entrance of the camp she was going to be working at as a counselor for the forseeable future. He Smiles - Camp Camp

19) Markus, Connor, North, Josh and Simon were drifting along with the crowd that filled the fairground they'd just showed up at, trying to communicate aloud as best as they could over the sounds of laughter and screams of fear as the various rides that surrounded them swooped up and down in a concert of metallic noises and whooshes of air. Ferris wheels are romantic, right? - Detroit: Become Human

20) "Move it, loser!" yelled Sixten from the rolled down window of his car. Down the road we go - Detroit: Become Human

Whew, done!

Well, one thing I can say is that’s it’s pretty frustrating to be limited to a first line, especially for stories where my first lines are a two-beat thing where the first sentence sets up the second... Which happens a lot, apparently. I guess that’s my pattern! Short sentence starters. Also, I’ve noticed I don’t do a lot of dialogue starters nor do I often start with descriptions that don’t come from the character’s POV. I mostly begin by focusing on something in the character’s surroundings, or by referring to their sensory inputs, or by stating something that is generally true for them (their living situation/temperament...).

As for my favorite opening line, it’s gotta be Good morning, Lieutenant’s! I think it’s the one that does the best job of grabbing the reader’s attention because it’s already so fraught with tension. Then again, it is a direct continuation to a tense scene in the game, so... Can I go beyond the rule and make a podium? I’m making a podium. I also like the one for Hot Apple Cider because it’s so soft, and the one from Down the road we go because I find Sixten very funny even if he’s rude as hell.

This was an interesting little experiment! I’ll tag (if you’ll allow me to, cause I’m pretty sure half of these great writers don’t know/remember who I am, but listen, I really like what you do and I’m curious to see what your answers would be) @lokiitama, @emiliaf25, @liketolaugh-writes, @not-poignant, @taylortut, @kianraidelcam, @unholygrass, @connor-rk, @a-good-omen, @ao3gingerswag

and I also tag everyone who sees this and wants to participate~

#tag game #connork1000 #first lines meme

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