LIKE THIS AND FOR A DAILY MEME, ASK IN YOUR INBOX FOR THE NEXT 10 DAYS.
ooc; I'm going in vacation and for ten days this will be the only way for interactions.
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orihime. please, come meet your baby. he cries himself to sleep every night!
Heart vibrates like a hummingbird's wings as she discerns the subtle metamorphosis in his countenance, the way his features soften like melting candle wax, a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth like a playful sprite. She recognizes this predictable dance, delicate push & pull of his attention, an invisible tango of unspoken emotions. His discrete jealousy hangs in the air between them, igniting her nerve endings with exhilaration. Orihime revels in this diabolical game, delighting in her power to elicit such a primal response from him with nothing more than a friendly outing proposed by Gale.
She stands before him, a vision of feminine grace, arms folded upon her chest like a shield, a mischievous challenge sparkling in her hues like stars. The utterances drip from her lips like golden honey, syrupy & alluring. ❝No you don't. Are you trying to make me stay instead of accompanying Gale? It's a convivial date.❞ A gentle incitement that speaks volumes in the pregnant pauses between her words. She drinks in every flicker of emotion that dances across his appearance like light on water, savoring the inconspicuous threads that bind their hearts together in this moment. ❝Do you want to come with us? Or I can drop by your tent later.❞
@estarion
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ooc; vacation time! after a long day of work. i am going to lurk and do some more drafts before let the queue roll. i have plans to play a little bit of baldur's gate tonight!
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ooc; so i did some replies today, tomorrow i am going to be here after job to do more and go on vacation on next day. everything that'll not be queued gonna be replied once i am back. gonna play some bg3 before sleeping.
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"I'M FLYING MY PRIVATE JET!"
ooc; I could say many things here, but I think it's the proper moment to say how much I adore you and value as rp partner, friend, discord buddy, shipping buddy and so on. You're very unique in your own manner, you're full of energy as much as I am, that's why we keep a constant communication, not just in plotting but in daily life too. I appreciate so much all the effort you put in me, in us and in this beautiful ship we created. In the beginning, when I did that poll about what romance route Hime would follow I thought about Gale, because I didn't know if Astarion and Orihime could make a good couple, but look I was wrong! They are perfect with all their contrasts, their angst and love. They are amazing in every verse we create! So it's the right path for her. Even my boss says so!
Thank you for being part of my journey as a writer, as a person and for being my friend. I adore you. Thank you for let Hime have her private vampire jet! Because nothing is better than an albino vampire! All the love you have for them, as much as me is here, in this cute adorable double that you tell that's a harsh doodle, but for me is perfect and beautiful and the world must see it.
Thank you miki @estarion
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She’s like warm days, sunshine, honey and love.
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8 ?? 👀
8) receiver’s muse kills someone to protect sender’s muse. sender approaches to gently calm them down. - meme here.
Her palms vibrate as she gazes at the corpse before her, hemorrhage still warm on her dermis. Metallic scent fills her nostrils, mingling with the acrid tang of fear & adrenaline. Her heart pounds in her cage, a pulse-pounding tempo against the night's eerie stillness. He approaches ponderously, his footsteps soft against the damp earth. Astarion reaches out, his fingertips brushing her shoulder with a gentleness that seems supplemental in the wake of such violence. She turns to him, her spheres wide & glistening with unshed tears. In the moonlight, her countenance is a portrait of despair and quagmire. Innocence of her features shattered by the weight of her actions. ❝ I [ ... ] I killed him. ❞ Breathes, words lodged in her throat like fragments of glass. ❝ To protect you. ❞
His gaze softens, a flicker of tenderness in his usually guarded expression. She draws him close, encompassing his form in her arms as if to shield him from the calamities of the world. His lips brush against her hair. She holds onto him, her digits clenching into the fabric of his garment as if he is the only anchor in a sea of chaos. She inhales deeply, the scent of him ── leather, spice, and something else ── filling her nostrils and quieting the upsurge within her. Boundaries between love and death blur, the magnitude of their bond forged in blood & sacrifice. Astarion's touch is a silent promise, a vow to stand by her side no matter the consequences.
@estarion
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❝ i will do it. i said i would. i will. ❞ ( from Byakuya Kuchiki ) [ uh oh here comes his competitiveness lol ]
She arrives at the restaurant, a vision in an aquamarine summer dress that holds her silhouette like an ardent lover's embrace. Vivid pigment ignites her glamorous tresses aflame, igniting them into smoldering embers in the crepuscular light. A jacket shields her from the eventide's gentle exhalation, yet cannot contain the radiance emanating from her luminous spirit. As she walks towards the entrance, impatience flutters in her abdomen like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. But instead of Rukia's acquainted visage, she finds herself gazing up at the imposing Captain. Astonishment ripples through her physique, electrifying and discombobulating. ❝ K-Kuchiki-sama [ ... ] ❞ Stammers, blinking rapidly as if to dispel the phantasm from her eyes. ❝ What are you doing here? ❞
Her mind reels, endeavoring to make sense of this unforeseen twist. Had Rukia or Yachiru alluded to an unexpected change in plans? No, surely she would remember such a thing. ❝ Did you come here to dine as well? ❞ Inquires, grasping for a clarification, any explanation. ❝ Where is your sister? ❞ But even as the words tumble from her lips, epiphany dawns like an effulgent burst in her psyche. Yachiru, that impish little prankster must have orchestrated this rendezvous, assembling an intricate tapestry of half-truths & misdirection.
A rosy flush blooms across her creamy cheeks as she meets his unfaltering gaze. Mortification wars with a scintilla of adrenaline in her crux. ❝ Wait. Of course this must be a prank. ❞ Breathes, a laugh playing at the corners of her rosebud mouth. ❝ Did Yachiru tell you that you would be having dinner with someone else as well? ❞ Holds her breath, wondering if he too has fallen victim to the petite shinigami's playful machinations.
❝ i will do it. i said i would. i will. ❞
@braveryhearted
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LIKE THIS IF YOU NEED ME TO NOT FORMAT OUR INTERACTION. I really like formatting but I'm super okay not doing it if it's more comfortable for you. I'll add to my pin-post that format can be switched to basic upon request. I want my blog to be inclusive.
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prompts for specific scenarios that make me chef’s kiss
can be used as starter or plotting prompts!
1) one muse putting their hand over the other’s mouth while they have sex.
2) our muses with unspoken feelings forced to share a bed and end up cuddling.
3) our muses have unspoken feelings but one of them is upset so the other holds them.
4) our muses have a very strong bond, but haven’t admitted to romantic feelings and one of them just comes and cuddles up to the other for comfort.
5) sender is in a vulnerable state and the only person they trust is receiver, who approaches them to try and help.
6) receiver is in a vulnerable state and the only person they trust is sender, who approaches them to try and help.
7) our muses shower together after something traumatic for comfort and emotional intimacy, bonus points if they aren’t even together romantically yet.
8) receiver’s muse kills someone to protect sender’s muse. sender approaches to gently calm them down.
9) sender’s muse kills someone to protect receiver’s muse. receiver approaches to gently calm them down.
10) one muse has been brainwashed and the other one refuses to hurt them, trying to bring them back with a gentle touch.
11) muses who aren’t together yet or simply have a gruff/sof dynamic: sender’s muse is upset and receiver’s sits next to them, leading to sender leaning against them and finally breaking down.
12) muses who aren’t together yet or simply have a gruff/sof dynamic: receiver’s muse is upset and sender’s sits next to them, leading to receiver leaning against them and finally breaking down.
13) one muse is sporting injuries, the other takes a hold of their face and demands to know who did it so they can take revenge.
14) our muses aren’t together yet but one of them asks the other to stay the night so they won’t be alone.
15) our muses aren’t together yet but one of them insists on staying the night so they won’t be alone. bonus points if its to protect them.
16) gruff muse is being grumpy and the other one just crawls into their lap and kisses them.
17) softer muse makes the first move for sex and rides or tops the gruffer one who looks at them like they just found god.
18) one muse has just killed for the first time and the other more experienced muse is there to help them in the aftermath.
19) one muse is dangerous and has a soft spot for the other one, who approaches them to prevent them from hurting someone.
20) receivers muse is touch starved and sender gives them affection they aren’t used to.
21) sender’s muse is touch starved and receiver gives them affection they aren’t used to.
22) receiver’s muse is the first person sender’s muse turns to and hugs after something traumatic happens.
23) sender’s muse is first person receiver’s muse turns to and hugs after something traumatic happens.
24) one muse shows up at the other’s doorstep looking for comfort.
25) one muse shows up at the other’s doorstep because they need help and are in danger.
26) one muse thinks the other is going to hurt them but instead they protect them.
27) dangerous or antagonistic muse gently caresses the other’s face who is surprised by their affection.
28) one muse is in danger and the other, who is usually antagonistic, shows up to help them.
29) dangerous or antagonistic muse is gently caressed by the other, surprising them with affection they aren’t accustomed to.
30) one muse sees the other’s scars for the first time.
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“ kiss me and you'll find out. “
Under the luminous incandescence, she escorts him by the hand through the lush, dense forest, the humid, loamy earth cool & compliant beneath their exposed feet. Titillating impatience thrums through her physique as they emerge into a concealed glade, where a sequestered reservoir shimmers invitingly like quicksilver. Without a word, he begins to disrobe, alabaster dermis almost luminescent in the moonshine. Her breath hitches at the sight of his lean, sculpted physique slowly being unveiled. Heart palpitating, she demurely slips out of her own garments, feeling the balmy night air caress her denuded flesh like the most sumptuous silk.
Hand in hand, skin against skin, they wade into the cool waters. Inoue emits a soft gasp at the initial frigidity, her sensitive peak vibrating in the nocturnal air. His sinewy arms envelop her from behind, firm corpulence molding against the sinuous curves of her back, fervor suffusing into her & igniting sparks low in her belly. She pivots in his fervent embrace, twining her arms around his neck. Water laps sensually at their interconnected contours as they float together in their own arcane world, cutaneous gliding voluptuously against skin. Itachi's onyx eyes traverses the contours of her countenance.
“Kiss me and you'll find out.“
A specter of a smirk dances at the corners of her mouth before she claims his lips in a scorching kiss, serpentine tongues entangling, further fueling the conflagration building between them. Her tender palms skim down his back. She mewls into him, liquid heat unfurling through her veins, cooling her core. Inoue grasps his broad shoulders, aching for more of his intoxicating kisses, for his passionate touch to map every inch of her physique beneath the voyeuristic moon.
@kiigan
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“ your eyes make my heart flutter . ”
She prepares for an intimate rendezvous, searching for comfort in the sultry embrace of a bubble bath. Bathtub metamorphoses into a shrine of love, enlivened by the translucent radiance of burning candles that cast pirouetting silhouettes on the walls. Rose petals, soft & aromatic, float suspended on the water's surface, velvety texture a portent of exquisite delights to come. Paramours decant essential oils into the steaming bath, fragrant bouquets of lavender & bergamot intermingling, tempting them to dismiss their anxieties & capitulate to the sensations of the moment. They immerse themselves in the tub, adam's wine encompassing their contours like a curative brush, bubbles titillating their dermis with exuberant kisses.
In this cocoon of intimacy, they lock eyes, their souls laid bare in the tenderness of the moment. Digits entwine beneath the water's surface, a tacit affirmation of their connection, their love a palpable presence. External world dissipates, & all that remains is the cadence of their synchronized breaths & the susurrus of water against dermis. Time appears to remain still as they indulge in the warmth. Rose petals adhere to their bodies, a delightful reminder of the pulchritude they find in each other.
Candlelight flickers across her countenance, emitting a dulcet glow onto her flushing cheeks. Itachi's utterances, saturated with adoration, make her heart dance like the wings of a hummingbird. Even after all their time together, she still finds herself flushing at his affectionate utterances. It's as if each sweet nothing whispered is the first. ❝ I-Is that a compliment? ❞ Asks coyly, averting her eyes momentarily to the whirling flame. She cannot resist the magnetic pull of his gaze for long. Her own eyes find their way back to his. ❝ Anyways, I adore you. ❞ Breathes, words slipping from her lips. She sinks beneath the water's surface, submerging herself in liquid heat, hues peeking just above the waterline.
@kiigan
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cons of writing with me: i'm trash
pros of writing with me: i'm YOUR trash
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"Innocent people die every day - they may as well do so for a reason!"
She saunters along the DESOLATE SHORE, footfalls forming impermanent prints in the sodden sand. Hibernal gale whips about her, its gelid tendrils brushing her appearance and tugging at her tresses. But she scarcely notices the frigidity, so lost is she in her ruminations. There is an AUSTERE PULCHRITUDE to the littoral in winter, an undiluted authenticity that speaks to her very essence. Slate clouds and turbulent billows reflect her inner milieu ── a melancholic yearning for profundity in a world that often seems bereft of it.
Her companion ambulates beside her, hands thrust deep into his pockets. She scrutinizes his profile, admiring the chiseled lines of his jaw. ❝ Do you believe there is a higher purpose for the demise of innocents? ❞ Inquires softly, her dulcet tones nearly lost in the ocean's roar. The death of innocents is indeed a tragedy, one born of the avarice, aspiration, and callousness that abide in the hearts of men. But even in the face of such tenebrous forces, she cannot help but cling to the conviction that there is still light in the world, still HOPE for redemption. They perambulate on, their steps falling into a synchronized rhythm as if they are dancing to some unheard melody.
@ultfan
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"you were dreaming, weren't you. what was it about?"
Argent moonbeams nourish her supple appearance as she succumbs to Morpheus’ embrace, Astarion’s mellifluous timbre reciting passages from one of his myriad tomes. She revels in these crepuscular moments when he reads aloud to her, a singular practice that minimizes her cares and onus. His euphonious voice is an enchantment to her ears, gently delivering her into the realm of Hypnos, that whimsical regent of reverie.
Gossamer figments coalesce in her mind's eye - his charming countenance, followed by a phantasmagoria of chimeric visions. An unbidden titter, dulcet and feminine, escapes her lips, accompanied by a breathy susurration. ❝ Astarion [ ... ] ❞ In her oneiric imaginings, she bestows upon him a kiss, but the illusion dissolves as her eyes flutter open. She cannot discern how long Morpheus held her in his thrall; likely it was but an infinitesimal trice. ❝ N-Nothing important. ❞ Demurs, endeavoring to divert his query. But the incarnadine blush that suffuses her cheeks hints at the veracity of her dreamscape. ❝ Pray tell, how came you to know? ❞
@estarion
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