non-rp blogs stop interacting with my posts challenge.
non-rp blogs stop interacting with my posts challenge.
8 character development exercises.
- write a short story about your character at a different age. take your character out of the context of your story and write a short story or scene about them at a different age. it can be instructive to take an adult character and write a standalone scene about them in high school with a best friend or significant other. think about how they react to different pieces of information. how would they react to bad news? how would their behavior change as they age?
- draw your character. a fun exercise to generate a more dynamic physical description of your character is to try drawing them. drawing a character can help elucidate more nuanced details about everything from eye color to body language and help you generate a fuller physical description of your character. crafting a good character description can be hard, but creating a visual reference point to refer to can make your descriptions come alive.
- create a character profile. fleshing out a character profile is one of the most common and useful character exercises. a character profile can help you understand what your character wants. it’s a way to list out the personality traits and behaviors of your main character as well as smaller secondary characters.
- write from a character’s perspective. writing a standalone scene from the first-person point of view of a character is a great way to get inside the character’s head and understand what your character feels. this is an especially useful exercise if your main story is written in third-person, or from the point of view of a different character. writing in first person can unlock parts of a character’s voice that might otherwise elude you.
- take your characters to dinner. one way to test how developed your characters are is to write a standalone scene with a few of them outside of the context of your story. how do your characters interact with each other during their spare time? if you’ve created strong characters, you should have no problem placing them in other scenarios and channeling their voices. great characters are dynamic and should be recognizable in a variety of contexts. take a few of your characters and write a standalone scene where they are all gathered around a table for a group dinner.
- create a character using real people as templates. referencing real life close friends or family members can help you create interesting characters with idiosyncratic personalities and traits. spend some time thinking about the qualities that make the people in your life unique and interesting. think about each one of these traits and how you might incorporate them into your stories and create more interesting characters.
- keep a biography. keeping a one-page biography of a character’s life can help you reference backstory and keep your facts straight. we should feel like each of your characters has a full life and history outside of your story. working on a separate biography is a great way of generating material and keeping a record for you to refer to as you write.
- chart your character’s arc beyond your story. strong characters should have a clear character arc that extends before and after your story. are there any life-changing events that occur in the lead up to your story? taking some time to think about your characters' lives just beyond the timeframe of your story can help you have a more complete understanding of what motivates them within your narrative.
classics aren't easy to read but it's not the writing or literature people find hard, it is the depth of emotions and feelings covering entire two three chapters over a single act of protagonist's love interest that today's human race have failed to understand.
Good morning I am thinking about Abe finally reciprocating Sam's confession and Sam going "what? What? What?" And them nearly knocking each other over in the attempt to just touch and hold and be held.
Had an another idea for a aliens and humans story
So some kind of Star Trek type setting where a research team crashes and gets stranded. The survivors are:
a scientist from a species that is very communal but isolationist, used to working/living with a close-knit research team of their own species (think of a flock of wild parrots)
a sociologist from a species/culture that values individuality and independance, was supposed to act as an outside observer on this reseach mission (aloof big cat)
and the human mechanic who is trying to repair the crashed shuttle but needs the other two to listen to them and get along with each other
With the turning point being when some unfriendly local wildlife show up, because they couldn’t keep a campfire going, and the human goes absolutely feral.
Summary: The morning after the fair, a somewhat hungover Arielle has to face Thorin and things don’t go quite as expected
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Arielle (Elen) Farran (female OC)
Characters: Arielle, Thorin,
Warnings: Most likely some serious, albeit ignored, dragon breath…
Word Count: 2,407
Khuzdal Translation: Mesmel - jewel of all jewels
Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being
If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
Previous chapters can be found here and on AO3
Opening her eyes was a mistake.
A big mistake.
“Ohhh…” Her head throbbed like a million little men with pickaxes were doing their best to tunnel through her brain.
She let her eyes close to quiet those little men.
For all the good it did.
Then she realized an arm lay draped in the curve of her waist.
An arm thick with muscle.
Fingers brushed her belly.
Her eyes opened again.
Behind her, Thorin let out a soft snore, his arm tightening about her. He pulled her against him, and whispered, “How are you feeling this morning, Arielle?”
“Don’t ask…” She closed her eyes once more, a hand coming to her forehead. “Did I make a fool of myself last evening?”
“You did, but only I saw it.”
“Oh, well, that’s something.”
A soft laugh skittered across the back of her neck. “What do you remember? You were well into your cups when I happened upon you.”
“I won a bottle. Which I think I left at the pub.” She bit back a groan. “And I babbled like a fool to you, didn’t I?”
“I’m becoming used to that, actually.” He skimmed his fingers along her belly. “And you were very flattering toward me.”
“Oh no…” She took a deep breath. “What did I say?”
“You couldn’t fault Miss Caisys for wanting to sleep with me, that every woman alive apparently wishes to do so as well.”
Embarrassment, hot and thick, poured into her as bits and pieces of that conversation returned. “Oh, I did say that, didn’t I?”
“No will ever know.”
She carefully eased onto her back and peered up at him. Her stomach roiled a bit, and being flat helped some. “What else did I say?”
He propped his head on his fist. “You asked me to stay with you. You said it was too quiet here alone.”
Heat stung her face. “I am so sorry.”
He shook his head. “You needn’t be. It will also go no further than me.”
“But, it better not happen again.”
“It won’t.” She brought a hand to her forehead to rub in the hopes of quelling the little men. “I promise.”
“Good. Then I should get moving.”
“Where does Miss Caisys have you taking her today?”
She regretted her words instantly, when Thorin narrowed his eyes. But then, he said, “I will not be seeing her today. I’ve got actual work that needs my attention today.”
“She will be disappointed.”
“Careful, Arielle, I might think you jealous.”
“Of her?” Arielle sniffed as if that was the most insane thing she’d ever heard. “Why would I be jealous of her? She’s a bubblehead.”
To her irritation, Thorin grinned. She slid to the edge of the bed and stood, turning to glare at him. “What is so amusing?”
“You.” He also slid to the edge, but made no move to rise and she tried to ignore how rumpled he looked, for it only made him more handsome than he already was. His hair was a wild tangled of black and silver about his shoulders, his eyes were still somewhat heavy-lidded, and when he looked up at her, she’d swear the air crackled around them once more.
“I’m glad you find me amusing.”
He slowly rose. “I mean it in a nice way.”
She sniffed. “Of course you do.” She met his gaze and sighed softly. “She isn’t very nice, you know.”
“Miss Caisys? What makes you say that?”
“Have you seen how she talks to me? To the others in service?”
“Well, she thinks you are a terrible person for keeping her from my chambers. As for the others? She’s a bit—”
“Uppity. That’s what she is. She thinks she is better than all of us.”
“She’s spoiled, no doubt—”
“That’s putting it mildly.” The glint in his eye when he smiled put her on her guard. “Your Highness…”
“Are you in all honesty going to marry that creature?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It would make Dis happy. I would secure my line with any children we’d have. It would make sense.”
Her stomach clenched at his words, a sour taste flooding her mouth. She swallowed hard against it, forcing herself to say, “But would you be happy?”
That seemed to give him pause. “What was that?”
For a moment, she thought she might have overstepped, but she didn’t care if she did. It was an important question and so she shrugged. “Would it make you happy to be married to her?”
“My being happy does not matter. I do what I have to in Erebor’s best interests.”
“Even if you spent the rest of your life miserable?”
“Arielle, what I want or don’t want, what makes me happy or unhappy, have no bearing on any of it. I have my responsibilities to Erebor and its people and that comes before anything else. So, my duty is to honor my word to Dale and Esgaroth, settle down, and produce an heir.”
“Produce an heir.” She shook her head, scooping a handful of her hair to toss from her face. “Is that how you dwarves look at children as well? Sex is something that is done only to beget heirs? Forgive me if I’m being offensive, but that sounds awful. What happened to love and pleasure, and fun and enjoying the sensations your body was created to feel? What happened to seeing children not as securing a throne but carrying on your legacy for who you were and not what you did? What happened to wanting children to pass on your lore and knowledge and personal history? Do those things not matter at all?”
“I do not expect you to understand,” he told her gruffly. And now he did rise from the bed, moving to stand before her. “You are not of my world, Arielle. My customs are not yours.”
“No. They aren’t. But… oh, forget it. You should probably go back to your apartment and dress for the day. If you need—”
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. Just… not—”
“Say it, if you feel so strongly about it.” He folded his arms as he leveled a glare at her.
“When you kissed me, there was passion there. Passion and desire and longing and it felt amazing. Tell me you didn’t feel it.”
“You lie.” She closed the gap between them. “You can deny it until the last raven flies from here, but I know the truth. I felt how you responded to me, I heard how you did. And do you honestly mean to stand there and tell me you care not if you ever feel those things again? That Miss Caisys evokes the same reaction from you that I did?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.” She nodded, bracing herself to hear him say that he had, in fact, kissed Miss Perfect and that she did make him feel all those same things. Her heart hammered her ribs, her blood roared through her temples.
She held his stare easily, waited for him to drop those nuggets on her. But instead, he caught her face in his massive hands, tilted it slightly up, and captured her lips with his. She curved her hands about his thick wrists, parting her lips, her toes curling as his tongue slid along hers in slow, teasing caress.
He released her face to slip his arms about her waist and she forgot all about the little men as he lifted her easily. As he turned.
As he pressed her back down into her bed. Her legs parted of their own to allow him to settle his hips between them and when he did, he arched against her, growling low in his throat as he swept his lips along her throat, He lifted his head, his eyes almost sapphire as he said, “No one makes me feel what you do, Arielle. No one.”
He bent back to her, kissing down into the neck on her tunic. Her eyes closed of their own, her fingers plunging into his hair, twisting to hold as he pushed her tunic up over her ribs. To her underarms.
And when she released him, over her head.
Her eyes opened as he worked the knot of her bandages free and gently slid the strips from her. “Mahal,” he whispered, curving a hand about her left breast, “Abnâmul…”
“What does that mean?”
He looked up, offering a sensual smile as he slid his thumb along her nipple. “Beautiful.”
Her head fell back, heat swirling through her at both his touch and his words. Her back arched as he continued to torment her breast in the most sensual way possible, gentle kneading it, letting his thumb move in lazy circle about her nipple, then, when it tightened into an aching bead, he bent and took it in his mouth.
Fire tore through her and her headache vanished. She thrust her fingers into his hair once more, twisting to hold him, to keep him from teasing her, then pulling away. Each flick, each sweeping pass, ensnared her, brought her body slowly to life until those wonderful knots returned with their pleasant ache twisting her insides.
“Oh, yes…." she breathed as he gently caught her nipple between his teeth. She bit down on her bottom lip as the tip of his tongue swirled against her, as he released her breast to move down, over her ribs, across her belly.
He caught the waist of her ruined leggings and tugged them down, easing off the bed to slide them over her feet. She sucked in a sharp breath as his lips skimmed along her calf, over her knee, against her inner thigh. Her body hummed with each new sensation and when his breath came warm upon the dark curls between her thighs, she held her breath to see what he’d do next.
His fingers swept lightly against those curls, one thick finger slipping into them as he pressed a hot kiss into her belly above them. Her eyes closed so tightly, flashes of white light danced before them. The pleasure was unlike anything she’d ever felt before—sweet and sinful, wicked and delightful and when he slid that finger inside her, her hips bolted up from the bed.
“Thorin…” His name was a plaintive moan on her lips as the knots tightened further, threatening to erupt at any moment. She wanted him—all of him—and did not want to hear any reason why she couldn’t have him.
Her fingers twisted in his hair. She tugged, and when he covered her, she seized his lips with hers, her hips arcing to meet each slow, teasing thrust of that finger he moved so nicely inside her.
His thumb brushed something else and she broke their kiss with a cry as fire filled her, swirling and scorching her. Nothing had ever felt this amazing, nothing had ever rendered her so senseless that she could only cling to him and ride the delicious wave as long as it would carry her.
She shivered as the fire receded, leaving her spent and mushy, her eyes heavy and her heart racing.
Thorin leaned over, swept her lips with his, and whispered, “Abnâmul.”
A breathless laugh rose to her lips, lifted into the air like a mist. “Oh, my…” she breathed, her head spinning madly as she reached for the button on his trousers. Two could play at his game and so she tugged them open and slid her hand in just as she’d done the other afternoon.
The breath left his body in a mighty rush as she found him, hot and hard and smooth. She wrapped her hand about him, sliding slowly outward, smiling at the small drop of fluid that bubbled to his tip. It made her next pass even silkier, made him topple onto his back, eyes closed, lips softly slack as she stroked him again. His breath hitched.
She shifted, shoved his tunic up with one hand, and then bent to press a kiss over the raised, pink scars on the lower right side of his belly. He groaned softly, bringing a hand to her head, slipping his fingers into her hair. They slid through her curls, toward her cheek, and he curved his hand against her face, his thumb sweeping along her cheekbone, fingers stretched back to her hairline once more, and his voice was ragged as he whispered, “I should go.”
“What?” Arielle lifted her head to stare at him as if he’d gone mad. “Why?”
“Because,” he swept his thumb forward, brushing the corner of her mouth, “if I don’t leave now, we will do something we will both regret.”
Without thinking, she caught the tip of his thumb between her lips, her belly fluttering at his soft moan when she did so. He gently pulled it free. “Arielle… we cannot do this. Much as I want to—and believe me, I do want to—we cannot.”
Disappointment bit into her with the sharpest of teeth and she felt somewhat foolish, sitting there naked, while he was still fully dressed. Of course, he looked no happier than she felt, and he had to be uncomfortable, even more so than she was.
Her headache came roaring back then and she slowly nodded. “Of course. You’re right.” She shifted away from him, leaning the edge of the bed to retrieve her tunic from the floor, and wriggled into it.
The bed shifted as he rose and she squeezed her eyes shut as he pressed a kiss into the top of her head, whispered, “I am sorry, mesmel. I truly am,” and then was gone.
She let out a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut as hot tears poked them. She felt so foolish, so naïve, thinking she could win him over this way. Why, she was no better than Miss Caisys. She simply had greater access to Thorin.
For all the good it did. She’d made a fool of herself on top of making a fool of herself.
With a low groan, she flopped back into the pillows. Five weeks. Five more weeks and then Elen would be healed and she could go home to Dale. Five more weeks and then she could see about forgetting Thorin Oakenshield ever existed.
A lie, that. She could live a thousand lifetimes and would never forget he existed.
The Haunting of Hill House Shirley Jackson
Your f/o is always craving your attention.
They love you so much, and it’s obvious in the way they’re always trying to make every moment with you last. Every time your eyes meet, they can never pull their eyes away. They’re always leaving lasting kisses, and their hands always linger whenever they hold you.
They’re always gravitating towards you, always wishing to be the center of your affection. Softening whenever you look at them, melting whenever you hold them. Though your undivided attention always leaves them feeling flustered, they love it more than anything.
Your f/o is just so in love with you.
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3vCsaFL
After growing up as best friends and reconnecting through Jimin after years, Taehyung and Yoongi go on a date.
or Taehyung is in love with his boyfriend’s boyfriend, and lucky for him, his boyfriend’s boyfriend is in love with him too
Words: 12918, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of this love is ours
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M, Multi
Characters: Kim Taehyung | V, Min Yoongi | Suga, Park Jimin (BTS)
Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V/Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung | V/Min Yoongi | Suga, Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Additional Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Kim Taehyung | V, Asexual Park Jimin (BTS), Art Teacher Kim Taehyung | V, Veterinarian Park Jimin (BTS), Editor Min Yoongi | Suga, Established Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, Established Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Getting Together, First Dates, Polyamory, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Communication, very soft, Happy Ending
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3vCsaFL
Hey Fangirls! M and Bea shift into their next installment of tropetober: Werewolf AU’s! More specifically, animal shifters, animagi, and/or full-shift werewolves!
“The Art of Purr-suasion” by megs_bee (cat shifter!WS) https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126599
“Steve Rogers and the Wolf Dog” by Dragontrill (ww!WS) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782298/chapters/17751685
“The Undisclosed” by Taila_Tai (TW, fox!SS) https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393999/chapters/14921683
“Wolf Songs” (series) by birdkeeperklink (speculating)
“Black Cat of Good Fortune” by kitty_fic
“The Witcher Wolf” by im_fairly_witty
Support M and Bea on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/fangirlsanonymous?fan_landing=true
Visit the website at https://fangirlsanonymous.com/
Have Questions? Comments? Jokes? Email M and Bea at email@example.com.
Hosted by M and Bea
Edited by Quinn McCoy
Music by Gabe Jensen
Produced by Miranda Sherrell
Copyright Disclaimer: under section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, education, and research.
Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing.
Check out this episode!
I wish I could write more here...
this is what happens if you have me on d.iscord.
Time: Sometime after KotET. I think I consider this one a sequel to “The Expendables“ and Prompt 18 for this event.
“This time, do what I say. Ready position. And 1!”
“HA.” The chorus of voices sounded off as Senya inspected the recruits’ forms.
HA.” The practice dual-tipped polearms came down, and Senya walked up and down the aisle.
“She is formidable.” Arcann and Koth sat on the second floor of the military hangar, looking down on the drill.
“You sound surprised, like you didn’t know that.” Koth propped his chin up on one of the rungs that made up the safety railing, his feet dangling over the edge.
“I went for many years without seeing her.” Arcann watched his mother’s swift reconnaissance about the room, ensuring quality control. “The way Valkorion spoke of her, he made her sound far weaker than she was.”
“Add that to the list of lies our Immortal Emperor told you.” Koth also kept an eye on Senya for entirely different reasons.
“Old habits die hard, don’t they, Koth?” Koth gazed down at Lana, who had walked beneath his dangling feet, datapad in hand. She smiled as he grunted at her and stuck his tongue out. “I wanted to let you know that the Captain approved the additional Zaakul patrols -- nothing extensive, but she has a few old friends with a few old debts that are willing to keep an eye on things for her.”
“I’ll take it. Thank the bosslady for me, if I don’t see her first.”
“I will.” Lana gave Koth’s foot a playful tug. “What are you two up to?”
“Taking a break from a multi-dimensional chess match,” Arcann answered.
“And being scared of his mom,” Koth added.
Lana smiled up at them. “Thick as thieves, you two are lately. Anything I should know about?”
Koth smirked down at her. “Lana Beniko, whatever do you mean by that question? And is that a note of something less than professional in your voice? In regard to me?”
“I’m just trying to keep tabs on all of my assets, as usual.”
That last part was code to confirm for her place, tonight. Yesssss.
Koth’s internal celebration was interrupted by Lana’s next question. “Arcann, are you well?” Koth felt the metal in the floor flex slightly as the other man got up and left.
“Hey, Arcann? Arcann?” Koth called after him, but he didn’t turn around or acknowledge Koth.
“Was it something I said?” were the first words out of Lana’s mouth as Koth walked through there door. She met him there, a Menkooro bourbon in each hand. She offered him one, which he eagerly took.
Koth sighed. “You know that little tease thing you did, about anything you should know about?”
Lana nodded, then paused. “Oh, dear. I knew his upbringing was conservative, but --” She frowned. “Surely that won’t be a problem in working with you or--”
“No no no no no -- you got the wrong end of that.” Koth downed the bourbon like it was shot, and his eyes watered. “Damn, Lana, good stuff.”
“Anyway,” she motioned for him to continue on, sipping her own bourbon.
When the glass parted from her lips, Koth took it from her. “I earned this,” he insisted. At her start of an objection, he explained, “Yeah, he was brought up as heir to an empire. You know, a system of government that typically relies on biological heirs and stuff? He was always told he was gonna have to find a girl and do the do and make more little emperors for Zakkul.” Koth downed the other bourbon. “I caught up to him later. He’s realized he might not be only into that. Or maybe even not into that at all. He never had a choice before --”
“And now he does.” Lana stared at him, her yellow eyes gradually lighting up and opening wide at the revelation. “Oh, my. More bourbon.”
Another few glasses later for both of them, Lana said to Koth, “So, is there? Between you?”
“We’re friends. Honestly, he’s having identity issues - not just the sex thing, but everything -- now that all the pressure is off. He’s just --- he’s just a guy living in the galaxy now. He can love whoever he wants, however he wants. And Arcann doesn’t know what he personally wants yet, now that the whole ‘do it for Zakuul’ thing is off the table.”
“Well, bloody good for him.” Lana raised her glass upward to clink with Koth’s. “To Arcann being himself. Whoever the hell that is.”
“Whoever the hell that is.”
A/N: In my headcanon, Lana and Koth are both bi, and they have this on/off relationship that just never resolves itself; they have other lovers, but they tend to come back around to each other. I’ve always read Arcann as someone very inexperienced and somewhat isolated due to his position in the empire. As a result, he’s awkward when dealing with ‘normal’ life. Depending in how one reads Zakuulan culture, it would have been expected of him to pop out heirs, regardless of what his actual orientation was. Now that the Empire is gone and he is, as the story says, just a guy living in the galaxy -- now what? So Arcann comes to the ‘self-discovery’ stage a little older than most, but that happens to lots of people IRL. And here’s to them, too.