museyboxy | Various Memes Open RP

Various Memes Open RP

This is a list of memes I'm interested in playing, with pretty much any character. If something from one of them strikes your fancy, write up a starter or comment. Please specify the character you want to play with, or the PSL/verse, or BOTH in the subject line.

Cursed meme

Hypnosis/mind control meme

Seven minutes in Heaven meme~!

Captivity meme

Dubcon meme

Body Horror meme

Sensory deprivation- any kind!

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Looking back Anders wasn't sure how he'd gotten into this situation, but it was a fair bet Isabela was responsible. Or possibly Varric. Or probably both of them in collusion. When he'd agreed to bet different stakes than money after losing his shirt (metphorically) in Wicked Grace, he'd been expecting...well, to more literally lose his shirt. Strip Wicked Grace would have been a little awkward but nothing he couldn't manage, even with Hawke in the room.

He'd played variations of this game before. Usually without the closet; at the circle, small private places were hard to come by, even just for seven minutes. But he hadn't done this for years, and certainly not since joining with Justice. This was a game for adolescents with unrestrained libidos, not healers with self-control issues and very tightly restrained libidos by necessity.

He leaned against the wall, not for comfort so much as to try and stay further away from her. If it'd been anyone else he was in here with, there wouldn't be any difficulty, or any awkwardness. But of course it was Hawke. Of course. Damn those two rogues and their ability to stack the deck. He cleared his throat. "Sorry about this. Again." He'd apologized once already, because there was no question that this was aimed at him rather than her. "I should have quit playing before it got to this point."

Hawke was pretty sure she knew exactly how they got into this situation. It involved a lack of gold, a few drinks, and an ill-advised agreement that she herself had entered into. Different stakes? Sure! She's trying to save money to buy a new staff, so the different stakes would be better than losing her shirt in this game.

Except.

Well.

She had expected to literally lose her shirt. Not be pushed into a closet with this game's other loser and told to snog for ten minutes. She bit her lip, trying not to think too hard about how they were getting out of here. It wouldn't be that hard, right? It wouldn't change things irrevocably or make a friendship completely weird or ruin their group dynamic, or-

-Shit. Ten minutes really was an incredibly long time.

"So should I," she laughed. "But if I was known for making good decisions, I wouldn't be where I am today, and neither would either of you."

She nudged him playfully. Ribbing about Justice might be a good way to take his mind off of how weird this was. Or maybe not. Who knew?

"Come on, you glowing lunatic, time to make out with a sexy apostate whose career goal is 'dragon.' You'll like it! I'll even try not to breathe fire."

The 'either of you' makes him wince inwardly, because no matter how many times he says it's not like that, we're one now no one ever seems to believe him. Or at least, they think it's more amusing to make fun of it.

On the other hand, while it's not his favorite topic of conversation it beats talking (and thinking) about what they're supposed to be doing in here and all the myriad of ways it would inevitably go horribly wrong.

"It's not required, you know," he points out. "We can just stand here. It's not as though they're watching."

Though someone is probably listening at the door, which makes it all even more unappealing. It's not the way he'd like his first kiss with Hawke to go. He'd prefer privacy--sweet, forbidden privacy, the ultimate act of rebellion for a former Circle mage--and space, and somewhere comfortable to lay her down, and a lot of time to be thorough, and this is exactly what he's not supposed to be thinking about so he clears his throat, grateful that the darkness will hide any unfortunate blushing and awkward expressions. "And what do you mean try not to breathe fire?"

It's a weak joke, but it's all he's got.

"I mean I like you enough to not make any wild promises I can't keep," she teases back, as if not breathing fire is a massive undertaking of effort.

And yes, she knows his "Justice and I are one" shtick, but it doesn't hold much water in her mind when he sometimes takes control from himself. They had a conversation with Justice in the Fade, and Justice bleeds through sometimes when shit's getting real. She thinks it's more like a... like a spectrum, maybe, or two puddles of paint slowly mixing together. There are still places where the colors are strong- and places where they've swirled.

That's all far from her mind, though. His suggestion to bullshit them is a valid one, but judging by the look on her face, she's already considered it, and gesticulates as much as possible in this stupid tiny closet.

"You want to try getting 'no we didn't make out for ten minutes' past Varric and Isabela, be my guest."

It goes without saying: they'd know. They'd both know. Varric can sense unresolved tension AND bullshit, and Isabela has a sixth sense for any boners popped within a twenty-meter area.

"Wild promises like not setting the closet on fire? Because I wouldn't put it past you."

There's a fond note in how he says it. 'Wild promises' could be Hawke's middle name. The wonder of it all is that she usually manages to fulfill them, beyond all expectation or possibility.

But all the same... "They have no right to demand we make out," he says stubbornly. "Consent shouldn't be forced like that. It's wrong. Why would either of us want to kiss someone who was coerced into it?"

Hawke raises an eyebrow at him skeptically. “Didn’t you say snogging was sort of an art form in the Circle? Everyone was kissing everyone?”

Come on, Anders. This doesn’t have to be so bad. The look she gives him is an obvious taunt, almost as much as her next words.

“Are you too old for that, or just scared?”

He glares at her, because the gibe hits closer to home than she probably realizes. He is scared. Hawke is...Maker, he doesn't know what she is. A walking, talking force of nature, who takes no shit and has as little tolerance for injustice as he does, who laughs at things that would make most people run screaming. She doesn't seem to be afraid of anything, and that's what makes her vulnerable. Not to everything. Just to him.

Or possibly it's the other way around. He can't tell anymore.

"This isn't the Circle." It comes out more harsh than he intends, because she's only a few inches away and daring him to kiss her and it's like some sadistic nightmare of temptation. "And I'm not that man anymore. And I don't want you forced into--into anything! You deserve better."

The harshness of his reply makes her draw back a little in surprise. Hawke has been having fun, teasing, drawing closer to him in what she thought was a dance with an inevitable ending- but maybe she's wrong. Maybe she's been wrong this whole time, misreading the signs, mistaking friendship and political passion for something else. Maybe he's just a guy trying to be her friend, reminding Carver of their father, and she's been making him uncomfortable.

"Anders, I'm a powerful blood mage who once choked a hurlock with her thighs," she tries, bravely going back in for another attempt. "If I didn't want to be here, do you really think they could've gotten me in here?"

But the look on his face... she falters, something dimming a bit in her eyes. Suddenly she doesn't entirely look like the impossible, fearless thing who people forget is just a young woman. No, she looks her young age, a feeling very like hurt flickering over her face. "But you don't want to be here. Sorry."

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Various Memes Open RP

Seven minutes in heaven because WHY NOT and you know who I want

i'm making it an even ten minutes :)

you are evil ;)

Re: you are evil ;)

....oh god Anders would you stop balking and just snog this woman who you adore ffs...

Bless him tho

flailing back in this direction

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