2022 Shippy Bullshit CMO

[paranomasias]

Look, I'll level with you. You like shippy bullshit. I like shippy bullshit. I also like smutty bullshit, but that lives elsewhere. This is for hand-holding! Kissing! Being gross! All that good stuff.

Anyway, I'll toss up character toplevels and comments of like. What I want to play with them, I guess? And if you want to thread with them, please reply to the toplevel! That way I can edit the prefs.

As for general prompts, there's a ton of good memes out there? I'm a big fan of murdergame shipping, hurt/comfort, stupid aus... if you're curious/want to pitch something, ask away!

Comments

Angel | Borderlands

[didntgetdadslooks]

Prefs/Wishes

[didntgetdadslooks]

Who the fuck is this, Lyndon?:
If somehow I have not conned you into Borderlands yet, this is Angel! She's a young woman with a horribly overbearing father and magical powers who has been locked in a computer for years and forced to manipulate a lot of people into doing bad things! One of those things being, eventually, killing her.

She's very sweet and kind, though, and occasionally in the neighborhood of deadpan, and deserves to have a nice time!!

General Prefs:
- ota!
- Age range.... 18-25-ish? Angel's age remains Vague so the range can remain Vague
- not really into anything other than Nice Ship Has A Nice Time with her??? like she's not a Fragile Babey but still.

Things I want to play:
- Rescue! Angel! Without! Killing her!!
- Rehabilitation from All Of That
- Experiencing new not-a-flesh-computer things! Getting to swear and misbehave!

Repost! That! Starter!

[calrippedso]

Hey, knock knock.

[Cal ducks into the Meandering Jupiter's modest medical bay, a small sealed tray in her hands. She scoots around the medical equipment and settles onto a stool by the bed, popping open the tray.]

Glad to see you're up, you were in pretty bad shape when we pulled you out of that place. Like, dunno if you even remember it bad shape.

[dot dot dot]

...oh, uh. We pulled you out of that weird chamber thing you were stuck in, by the way. Lots of explosions. But you should be okay now! Or at least better. Though, uh, that might be a low bar, I guess. But Jey's pretty good, for a doctor type.

soulmates, coffee shops, you know..!

[gorira]

[ It's pretty tricky to find a good match these days - especially for an introvert, isn't it? If you're not a party person, and you don't have the benefit of "a friend of a friend," shopping around for a nice young bachelor (and going on a date, assuming you can get that far) isn't such an easy task. Breaking in is hard, and small talk is harder - and let's not get started on all of the apps, and the games you have to play to get someone to swipe.

All that one way of saying, your girl's been having a rough go of it. If you were to ask about her love life, she would probably say something along the lines of It's not going too hot. That would be putting it mildly - right now, she might as well be on the North Pole, buried in the snow. Her romantic prospects are a couple of penguins and a married man with a big, white beard - and she's not about to be a homewrecker. But that doesn't stop the questions from relatives, every Sunday at the dinner table: When are you going to bring someone home with you? or Am I ever going to see grandchildren, Chitoge?

( ...Hm? "Chitoge," again? Well, that goes without saying. No matter where she is, her name never changes. And somehow or another, a red ribbon tends to follow, too -- in her hair, on her bookbag, or tied to a key... )

She's not one to put too much stock in urban legends; all too often, the schlock that her girl friends gossip about between classes are silly little myths, pulled from the back pages of cheeky magazines. But there was one little rumor that caught Chitoge's ear: apparently, a surefire way to meet your soulmate. All it takes is a thousand sheets of origami paper, and a lot of time on your hands.

Silly...but not so silly that it stopped Chitoge from buying a box of little colored squares for herself.

Truth be told, once you get into the rhythm, making tiny cranes can be fairly relaxing - as time goes on, the folds become habit, the creases take less focus. Chitoge's settled into something of a routine; for the past week and a half, now, she's been coming to the bake shop on campus when her classes let out, settling in at a table by herself (and a mocha frappé, with her name on it in bold Sharpie marker), and folding paper cranes in all different shades - red, pink, green, blue. At the start of the week, she left after an hour with a meager twelve cranes to her name. Now, she can push about forty out, in just around the same time. And she's got a long way to go, before she gets through all of the paper...but maybe by the time she hits 1,000, she'll find the person she's been looking for?

...Granted, she's not actually looking, so much as she is waiting, and hoping for a prince. Still, there's nothing wrong with that, is there..? ]