#idk how i feel about this. i kinda like it though
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#no same im still surprised when i tag something for my own organization after the first 5 tags and it gets attention#from folks who don’t follow me. you weren’t supposed to see that. now i gotta post it and go back and edit to have tags ig#but not showing up in your own blog. girl what are the tags FOR at that point#i know it cuts you off from typing them at a certain threshold but i forget how many that is#idk why it wouldn’t cut you off at 20. unless it does and op is talking about reblogs using the xkit thingy on desktop?#where you can just kinda type whatever forever without realizing you’ve been cut off
--
just to be abundantly clear to anyone wondering: i'm not talking about the xkit thing (though i am aware of it, love that feature), or even about /search, really, i mean like
if you make "#myart" tag number 21 on your post, and i go to your blog, and i type in blogname.tumblr.com/tagged/myart, i am, in fact, not going to see your art. because tumblr doesn't register any tags past number 20, apparently. the post i discovered this on was from 2018, and i stumbled on it the day i made this post. ("#myart" was tag number 25 on the post, for complete transparency)
chances are that few people are going to run into this, because tagging your art posts with every game (related or not) and every nintendo console is a little overkill, but like. some people like rambling in the tags and going on rants! for them, it's pretty important information to know that if you do that then you need to make sure your organizational tags occur BEFORE number 20 or they won't function as organizaton at all: which is why i made this post lol
and for artists, it's important to know that the 20 tags you get for reach are ALSO the 20 tags you get for blog organization, which is why "#my art" and "#specific project" are tags that need to go higher than number 20.
no hard feelings @ anyone, just addressing a handful of comments i've seen in the notes + these tags were most relevant + i liked them. this post is for the oldies, for real.
(NEW?) TUMBLR TAGGING PSA:
heads up, folks! it looks like - EVEN AND ESPECIALLY ON YOUR CUSTOM BLOG VIEW!!! - tumblr only counts the first twenty tags! on a post! after this, the post won't show up in that tag, not even on your blog
so if you have a personal art tag but you put it at the bottom of the post under all of the #switch #nintendo #mario #bros #64 etc etc etc bloat tags, it doesn't work.
please put your most relevant tags first! having an art tag that doesn't have all your art posts in it is basically useless, after all
there used to be a saying that tumblr search only counted the first five tags on a post, which is why crosstagging for reach was pointless. tumblr has since updated to count twenty tags - at a cost. any tags after #20 apparently do not show up in that tag on your own blog.
i found this out because i was looking at someone's cool mario 64 art project, and because they put the tag for the project at the very bottom of their tags, the final post NEVER showed up in their tag for the project when i was browsing it ON THEIR BLOG (very different tumblr behavior than it used to be years ago!). i did finally stumble on the final post of the project, thankfully, and realizing what happend, i started counting. tumblr counts the first 20 tags, but tag #21 and all after are useless.
psa!
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zzbubblegumbitchzz · 1 day ago
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beg him for forgiveness // Nico Hischier
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we got a little nico brain rot so plz enjoy this isn’t that long just feral word vomit
wc: 376
cw: porn with no plot, toys, anal, kind of god complex idk if it’s that or just sacrilegious but either way, condescending nico, kinda mean nico
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Nico who doesn't like to think about how you come undone on any toy when he's gone, because only he's supposed to make you do that. So when you mention you need to get off to him a day before he gets home, he's kinda fuming. He’s gonna play it cool though. He'll ask to see how well the dildo fits in your cunt just because he "misses the way you take him". But really he's scheming. He’s planning a way to show you he's better than the toys you have.
Nico who texts you when he leaves the airport to be naked in bed when he gets home because he has to have a taste.
Nico who walks in your room to see that stupid fucking toy on the nightstand where you left it last night and all plans go out the window because now he's just mad. So ya know what he does? He grabs the dildo off the nightstand before setting himself between your legs.
Nico who tells you to close your eyes before he's running the toy through your folds just so he can hear the whine fall from your mouth. "What's wrong baby? Thought you loved this thing?"
Nico who teases your hole until you're begging him to do something. "I usually like hearing you beg for me, but I think this is just slutty. Don't you? Begging me to fuck you with a toy when i'm right here. It’s a shame really, I was real excited to feel you squeezing me."
Nico who finally pushes the toy inside you only to hear you mumble "not enough." Just to flip you over and shove your head into the pillow.
Nico who teases your asshole with this thumb while he's slowly fucking you with your dildo.
Nico who gets you so close to the edge just to push his thumb into your tight hole and hear you moan “oh god.”
Nico who smirks at the way your body reacts to whatever he gives you.
Nico who chuckles at your desperate whines, “That’s it baby, why don’t you pray to your god and ask him for forgiveness. I heard he’s real understanding, might just let you cum but you gotta pray real sweet.”
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dailykafka · 2 days ago
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Not Kafka related again, sorry (you don’t have to keep responding to these if it starts to 'spam' your page). This is a response to your Georgia response a few days ago 👍
– Have you ever considered leaving Georgia? Or is it actually a nice country outside of the political rifle? What are some cultural things you like / find interesting about your country? If 'yes' to the first, what nation?
It is a great country and I love it very much (all the people I love are here soo) but obviously Ive considered moving abroad because even though I love the nature, people, culture, it's very difficult financially and politically. I don't have any specific country in mind just some European country probably. I (and many young people) often feel trapped because there's just no support from the state (like its a surprise if you find someone who doesn't have a loan from the bank). Barely any jobs, low wages, ridiculously high prices and on top of that we have an illegitimate government which is day by day taking away our rights and independence.
So as you can see the problem is the government and their politics, so we just have to get rid of them. The country itself is really great. We have great nature (we have the sea, mountains, some sort of desert too, whatever you like lol). The culture itself is really interesting, its not a homogeneous thing and every region has its unique culture with its unique traditions and food. Georgian cuisine is very rich. Even eating food, the way its served and the way its eaten is itself part of the culture.
I love that because we are kinda on the border of Europe and Asia, we have mix of these cultures and we have bits of this and that from everywhere.
Also, oldest evidence of wine production was discovered in Georgia (6000 BC) soo thats cool!
For me Georgia's history is really interesting too because it has always been the target of multiple empires and its pure luck (or just pure spite) that we are still here lol. Georgian literature is also fascinating (literally one of my favorite things). What I love about Georgian literature is how many women are heroes of the story or how important they are in the story. [you have activated my special interest, prepare for infodumping lol]
One of the oldest Georgian texts is from 5th century about a woman martyr called Shushanik and how she refused to give up her faith just to be spared by the enemy Empire (she was a nobility and her husband converted so he would get more influence and wanted her to convert too). The way these people are portrayed in the story and the way it is written, even though its in old Georgian and even though you don't understand half of the words, its a very interesting read and it feels very modern idk how to explain it😅.
There's another text, 12th century poem The knight in the panther's skin, where it's explicitly said that women and men are equal and they should be judged by their merits not their gender + it lowkey says "we love God obviously but loving each other is the real deal". The rumor is that the author of this poem was in love with then king Tamar (she was the ruler of Georgia back then) and he dedicated this poem to her.
I realize ive written too much… but anyways there's a lot of things I love about my country, its culture, history, literature all of it it very interesting and worth checking out! Tripadvisor should hire me now lol
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dreamingofaizawa · 2 days ago
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Take It
Kensei Muguruma x AFAB! Reader
***This is an 18+ work of fiction, if you are not of age, be gone ***
Warnings: Smutty smut, overstimulation(I think?), squirting, breath play(maybe?), cumflation(kinda?), rough fuckin', then soft Kensei (sorta)
Word Count: 1k
Author's Note: Uh, yeah this popped into my head idk man I'm horny for this guy. You can't convince me he ain't got a massive dick. ANYWAY
Enjoy~
“Still think you can take it, sweetheart?” 
That is what you’d said, when you came to him all those months ago seeking his training. Him being your Captain, Kensei Muguruma, who’s a damn powerhouse and has knowledge you can use to your advantage. You said you could take it, his harsh regimen, and you did. Training with him has proven lucrative, your stamina and strength and sheer power have increased exponentially under his strict and intense guidance. Soon enough you were going head-to-head with him, even though you still couldn’t beat him if you tried. There’s a reason he’s a captain, after all.
All of that training, all the time spent trading blows and bruising each other’s skin. You’d never predict you’d end up in his damn bed.
“Y-yes I ca-” a sharp gasp is ripped from your lungs and your eyes roll back in your head as his weight is thrown into his thrusts, shoving your face further into the drool-soaked pillows. Fuck him for that, he did it on purpose to cut you off. But fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. His thick, rough fingers dig so hard into your hips you can feel them bruising, but you can’t find it in you to care. He’s a rough man, it’s only fitting he fucks rough.
“Oh yeah? Wanna take it back yet?” He slows his pace, but he’s hitting so deep it doesn’t matter. Damn you can feel him in your throat. You’re still gasping, still trembling beneath his hands and still crying from the pleasure that can’t seem to fade no matter how long he pins you to the bed. It’s been hours. One arm reaches around and loops around your neck, the muscles in his arm cradling your chin as he yanks you back against his chest. The angle shift has you crying out, your legs shaking as you cum hard. He’s just so big, his body and his dick. Every movement sends shockwaves through your muscles and it’s getting real hard to think about anything beyond the pleasure and heat. Sharp teeth nip at your ear, just barely bringing your mind back. What was it he said again?
“Come on, pretty little thing. You can take a hit but can’t take dick? I guess we gotta shift our training huh?” Fuck him. First time in his bed and he’s mocking you for not being ready for it. 
“F-fuck you, Kens-” The corners of your vision turn black when he flexes the arm around your throat and shoves his hips up into you. He tuts, like he’s scolding a damned child.
“No, I’m the one fucking you, silly girl.” The bastard barely even sounds out of breath. Damn it, he won’t even let you finish one sentence or thought. You claw at his arm when he picks up his pace, trembling in his hold for the nth time tonight. He’s slamming into you with every thrust and sending spots dancing in your eyes, you aren’t sure how much more of this you can actually take. Then he reaches over with his other hand to rub tight, rough little circles over your clit and you swear you lose consciousness for a second, white blanking your vision. You can feel yourself squirt over his thighs and your entire body tenses before going completely limp in his hold. His groan is feral, shakes your bones, and he’s using your limp body to find his own end. Briefly, you wonder if this is what it feels like to die, but then you can feel him still and suddenly you feel so full. You’re manhandled into a more comfortable position, lying on your side and tucked safely into Kensei’s chest as you both labor for breath.
It feels like forever before he actually speaks again, and the softness in his voice startles you.
“Breathe, sweetheart.” Shakily, you take a breath, and a shattered sob is forced from your lungs when his large palm presses into the pouch of your stomach where his cock is still buried to the hilt. You grip that arm, albeit weakly, trembling with the effort. He’s going to kill you like this, the pleasure is going to make you pass right out and you’ll die.
“Shh sweet thing. Relax baby, I’ll be gentle.” It’s slow and agonizing, and feels too damn good, as he pulls free of your spent pussy. Your legs shake, he’s reminding you to breathe, the sensitivity between your thighs is at an all time high. You can’t be bothered about the gush of cum that leaks from you when he’s finally free, but when it’s all over all you want to do is sleep. Exhaustion tugs at your mind, and when his lips carve a gentle path down your shoulder and his fingers dig gently into your bruised hips to relieve your tense muscles, you succumb to the depths of slumber.
When you come to, you can’t help but notice that you’re clean. No sticky mess between your legs, no sweat clinging to your skin, no saliva or tears on your neck and face. Even your hair feels clean and washed. You’re still wrapped up in thick, strong arms, the heat of your Captain’s skin seeping into your body. Shivers crawl down your spine when his voice, riddled with sleep and much deeper than usual, ghosts over your shoulder.
“Mornin’ sweetheart. How are you feeling?” It’s so tender it almost shocks you. He can be caring when he wants to be, but usually he holds all the kindness of a drill sergeant even when he wants to be comforting. But now? He sounds so soft, so sweet it’s almost alarming. Big fingers trace over your hip and up over your chest to cup your chin, gently shifting your gaze to where he leans over you.
“Focus baby. I asked you a question.” His gaze is expectant, as it always is. Yeah, it’s definitely Kensei.
“I’m alright.” Your voice is croaky, rough with overuse. 
“Good.” He’s back down again, pulling you tight into his chest and breathing into your hair. 
“Did you bathe me?” He grunts out a yes, and that’s all the answer you get before he’s snoring against your head.
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py-dreamer · 2 days ago
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...hi again?
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
"WHERE'S THE MONKIE GANG? OR SHADOWPEACH?"
"HAS PY DROPPED OUT OF THE LMK FANDOM?!?!"
To answer that question: no. No I haven't
Short and concise answer is I do personally feel a little burnt out on lmk but while that doesn't mean I've abandoned it. Not in the slightest
Anyways, very busy time for me rn so updates and any art in particular will be VERY sparse in the coming months I'm afraid.
That being said, gotten back into an oldie of mine I'd never thought I'd revisit: Object Shows!
More specifically: Inanimate insanity
Look I was into this when I was like a preteen and grew out of it then all of a sudden II s2 ep18 dropped. Like hell, I didn't even know that invitational existed (and lowkey still haven't seen it- BUT I KNOW THE LORE, BOT IS MY WEE BABY OK I KNOW THE LORE)
And drawing these gijinkas kinda gave me more flexibility and let me design people again even though I'll admit quite a few ideas are very common in gijinka's used in the fandom
So um I'll see how this goes, I already have the sketches for the other season's cast and will probably post them regardless though.
Let's start with S1's king, the fruitiest lad on the aisle: OJ!
(Btw I think it's HOP rather than HOJP)
I know he's meant to be like a glass of OJ, so theoretically his hair should be more slick/smooth but I decided to go for the flowy juice angle! Something to make his hair look more like flowing liquid.
Orange slice earings! In fact, orange slice accessories everywhere! (it's so marketable srsly don't know why it ain't used more often)
The orange watch was a fun concept ^u^ specially since after getting the hotel, I'd imagine him being a lot more uptight with sh!t and use clocks/watches to keep track of things
TBH, he'd probably also have a pair of rectangular long glass dangly earings to swap out for like the formal events.
Yay! For slacks! Thought they'd look really cute on him and other than Suitcase, wanted to give him something unique rather than just a suit/suitjacket (eg the hosts, Taco)
But oh, look at that he comes with two outfits! Just like a doll...
Bet paper would bu-
(no but srsly I lowkey bet that fan has like mini action figures of the S1 cast in his room or something, maybe even S2 & 3 too.
Also this man might be snazzy but he has the ugliest ties. We're talking about the same person who designed his hotels to have hallways with windows but not bedrooms.
Paper! Such a cutie pie!
Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you, what's not to love?
Don't have much to say about him sadly
Though his eyebrows gave me a LOT of issues. I like his stripes though! Seemed like the guy to have freckles like when peeps give him pencil sketch lines in this object form, what do ya'll think about the warm brown eyes though? Wanted to make him seem welcoming but idk.
(Bonus: paperclip earing!)
Gosh, I'm too tired for this rn, I'll elaborate on the designs another time
OH!
And happy new year!
And happy Chinese new year!
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ghouljams · 8 hours ago
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Hi I’m a lesbian and I love your fics. I also love learning from your sex ed posts even though most don’t really apply to me. Feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to answer, but I’m an anxious virgin and I really want to eat a girl out. How do I do it? There’s a lot of dick appreciation and education on this blog but not enough pussy I fear😔
Any tips? How does it feel? Both giving and receiving?
Yeah of course!!
So I'll start with receiving for no reason other than I gotta think about it really hard. As I've mentioned before there was a long period of time where receiving didn't do much for me so take this with a grain of salt. It feels sort of like a wet flat finger(but softer than a finger like more malleable) moving over your pussy. Different parts feel different(for me at least) and it feels very different from touching yourself, mostly because you can't feel the sensation anywhere other than your pussy. So tongue on the labia feels like wet touching, with a little bit of drag and pressure. Tongue on your clit feels sort of like a flicking, rolling sensation depending on what's happening, mostly you'll just feel the nice sparky stimulation more than the actual touch but there's also a little bit of suction that sort of tugs the tiniest bit when their mouth is on your clit. Tongue over/around your entrance feels again sort of like a really focused but gentle finger, it's really hot(temperature) because it's another person's mouth and wet but not unpleasant. I think what people tend to forget is that you also have a head down there and your legs are gonna want to squeeze it, which feels kind of like squeezing a really hard watermelon. With partners who shave you can get this prickly burn that's not entirely pleasant but doesn't really linger.
Giving... oh giving feels very fun under your tongue, lots of different folds and sometimes your partner has longer labia that you can sorta wiggle against your tongue. It feels like skin but wet and HOT, and a little spongy? If that makes sense, like firm skin but still with some give. Idk all vaginas are different and beautiful. Depending on if the person shaves you're gonna want to sorta part the labia to give yourself the best access, but just licking it feels sort of like licking, well, hair. Not bad, but eh it's not everyone's thing, sort of coarse and doesn't stick to your tongue like head hair does. The clit is fun cuz it's sorta hard under your tongue when it gets erect, and you can sort of flick it around with the tip of your tongue, or push your tongue up under the hood if your partner's clit is a lil shy. Tastes sort of musky but mostly like water if they're taking care of themselves, can get a bit bitter if the honey isn't eating right but idk I don't find it unpleasant. Pushing your tongue into pussy is kinda like shoving it into a tube, there's a little kinda ridged area that you wanna aim for cuz right behind that is the spot, but also just feels kinda nice on the tongue. They're gonna tighten up on you though and it's gonna feel weird, cuz nothings ever squeezed ur tongue like that before, but it's also kinda like if you're making out and your partner sucks on your tongue. Idk other pussy eaters can correct me on that, I'm just trying to make some semblance of a connection.
Man it's hard describing sex because it feels a lot like what it is. Hope this was coherent
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roseverdict · 1 day ago
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i kinda wanna know what kinds of insane unholy discourse sprouted up in ninjago over the idea of writing prime empire fanfiction when prime empire is a whole entire person and also a bunch of other whole entire people
#rosie babbles #ninjago
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🥋 i-am-okino-no-really
It has come to my attention that there are individuals writing fantastical tales describing adventures that I and others from within Prime Empire could potentially embark upon. While I would not request that these individuals cease in their actions, as several of these tales are genuinely quite entertaining, I do insist that people refrain from sending me any more of their…evocative…fiction detailing myself and my friends "getting it on freaky-style."
Unagami has also expressed distaste for the fiction depicting him as he was before he reunited with his creator, though especially when it is used for the purposes of depicting him "getting it on freaky-style." To be entirely honest, such purposes unnerve him regardless of the form used. If you simply must write such tales, please do not label them in such a way that a "Borgle" "Search" will immediately bring them up.
Please.
#prime empire
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🏎️ 7ace7-sevens-stee7ing-wheel
guys what do i do my url doesn't reflect blazey's name anymore but "blazey-h-speeds-stee7ing-wheel" is already taken 😭😭😭😭😭
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🌩️ jaybird-64
so apparently i still have my avatar from the game and idk how to feel about being able to make myself look like a dude whenever i want. i sure hope this doesnt awaken anything in m
WAIT STOP EVERYTHING I STILL HAVE AN ACTIVE CREDITS WALLET
IM BOUTTA DO SMTH WHOLLY UNWISE
#j64 chirps
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❄️ detectiveninja
Many, many thanks to @.bike-tones for the lovely drawing of myself and Pixal dressed as private investigators! I will be posting the art shortly, of course, but I just want to hoard it to myself for just a bit longer! 🤍
#my posts #re: #submissions #and #fanart
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🚲 the-purple-ninja
why did i just see somebody celebrating in the middle of the street
i nearly ran them over with my bike >0< i feel so bad
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🏎️ blazey-hype7-speeds-stee7ing-wheel
absolute galaxy brain idea hit me just now so OBVIOUSLY i went with it immediately no regerts
#heheheheheh
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🥋 i-am-okino-no-really
What is an "R.P.F." and why do people keep replying to me by mentioning it?
❄️ detective-ninja
I say this from the bottom of my heart: please do not ask. Only Kai dares venture to those corners of the internet with regard to ourselves and our adventures; the rest of us stay away for our own sanity.
⛈️ beta-jay-137
Why would you specify "with regard to [y]ourselves and [y]our adventures"? 🤨 /lh
⚡super-star-rockin-j
cmon @.detective-ninja leave my ninjaball run rpf alone!!!!! 😭
❄️ detective-ninja
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Ah, so is that why I just heard you run face-first into the monastery wall?
🥋 i-am-okino-no-really
Now this is what I call entertainment. :)
#not prime empire
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🌩️ jaybird-64
ive got good news and wack news.
wack news: nearly got bowled over by a paperboy but like. i was in the middle of the road because of the good news so thats kinda on me
good news: SO, TURNS OUT IM A GUY-
#j64 chirps #all hail prime empire #free and instant top surgeey #*sugery #*SURGEU #*SURGERY #FSM #AAAAAAAAAAA
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😨 roseverdict
idk i just think ninjago's version of tumblr would be wild :D
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mrs-starkgaryen · 1 day ago
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Well, well, well, dissecting time just so I can remind Maggie that I am in her walls (thanks you've passed your illness onto me)
1. "Afterwards, Mason pulls his clothes back on as you are absentmindedly drawing stars in the steam on the windows of his Chevy Silverado."
A) Even at home, she's dreaming/ thinking about the stars (Hollywood stars)
2. "It was good, not that you finished; you didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask, but even if he had you would have told him not to worry about it. It can take forever, especially with an audience. You’d rather wait until you’re alone."
A) Don't worry baby girl, Aegon is gonna make you finish in front of him and I'll you'll love it
3. Mason smirks and taunts: “I don’t know, with the way you talk about him you sound kind of obsessed.”
A) we all are Mason, shut up
4. “You ever feel like people are the best versions of themselves before you really know them? Then you get too close and all the cracks start showing.”
A) well I didn't like that foreshadowing
B) she's gonna get close to Aegon and we know he's a messed up man 😭
C) I'll she'll still love him though
5. “And it’s only until the end of the year,” your father adds. “Then the vacation is over.” Then the meager allowance they are funneling to you will stop and you will be ordered to return home to pursue an honorable course of existence. You have six months to succeed in Hollywood, or the dream dies."
A) Or when Aegon dies...
B) Maggie, are you in my walls? This is my family 😭
6. “Well, regardless of whatever you have going on in California, you’ll either have to get them done now or after you have children,” Mom says. “I love you and Clara and Tripp, but you destroyed my body. At least doctors can repair breasts. My bladder is still useless."
A) mother? What you doing here, loca?
B) how Sunshine is so sunny, idk. I guess you have to have rain to appreciate the sun
C) no wonder she think she needs plastic surgery- not just for Hollywood but she probably feels like she needs to live up to her parents expectations somehow (cuz she feels like she is disappointing them with her choice of job?)
7. Outside the sun is setting, and you gaze westward as the aging daylight turns the tall green grass and silhouettes of horses to gold like the mines that first brought settlers to California. You slide your phone out of the pocket of your denim shorts and take a photo, then post it to your Instagram story with the caption Home and a smiley face emoji.
A) Sunshines reminder that social media is fake lmao
B) but this is a mood- it gives crying whilst doing a thumbs up picture 😭👍🤳
Also those dogs? I love dogs but these ones are scary! The family and the dogs seem to hate her?! My God. Are they picking up on the family hostility to her?
If they don't shape up, unlike the bats- I won't mind if Jace steps on one of these.. (jk)
8. A minute later, you receive a DM. Aegon has typed: This explains the big horse girl energy
A) Aegon ever heard of playing it cool?
B) damn he's down bad
9. You have just finished ringing up a Like It-sized Apple Pie A La Cold Stone when Josh says: “Hey, there’s an old guy asking for you."
A) oh an old man, imagine if he meant Aegon-
B) HE DID! Mf ain't old
C) I also squealed like she did when I recognised the shoes 🥰
10. When Aegon begins to pull it away, you grab his hand and don’t let go until you’ve licked the spoon clean. He laughs hysterically as he watches you. “I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in forever,” you say.
A) and if I say 👀
B) foreshadowing...
C) also hello Simon Bassett from Bridgerton?
11. “Don’t tell me you’re a vanilla girl.”
A) for now Aegon...
B) He will show her the different flavours
C) also could symbolise that she is kinda naive and then as the story progresses- she's not so sweet anymore 😀
13. “It’s small,” Aegon warns. “It’s an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”
A) said every man ever 😉😂
B) ooh will she be in season 56, episode 28?
14. “Because once you begin to treat scalpels and needles as prescriptions for everything you don’t like about yourself—or everything that other people don’t like about you—..... that are carving away your humanity one incision at a time. I’ve seen it happen to more people than I could count, and I don’t want it to happen to you. Because you seem very, very human, and I’d like you to stay that way. Which means you don’t cut yourself up because some agent or producer or casting director told you to.” Then he adds, perhaps as an afterthought: “And anyway, you don’t need implants.”
A) did he have to do something to make people (or him) like himself more?
B) omg did his dad make or encourage his siblings/ family to change to become more famous, to carry on his legacy in Hollywood? Did Aemond try and change himself and now he's took a step back into scriptwriting cuz atleast then he can control his own story?
C) she's gonna lose or nearly lose her humanity in this industry, I can see it. It's gonna break her down and then Aegon and her have feel better sex..
15. “Always so agreeable,” Aegon muses. So desperate is more like it.
A).... need I say more
16. “The Chinese zodiac. You’re a horse. So you’re the only horse I like.”
A) you're killing me
B) she's gonna like riding this horse 😭 (I'll let myself out)
17. His face is some amalgamation of emotions you can’t read, and this is unusual.“Why do you think I paid in cash?”
A) either becca is crazy
B) or his family are and they'll update becca
C) or both. Like I said before- maybe they set him up wirh becca to calm him down, to make him (the targaryens) look good in the papers
18. “I got you a vanilla latte, vanilla girl.”
A) a possible other nickname?
B) all her nicknames are cute and sunny, like her until this industry snuffs it out 😀
19. Then you are in the scenes under intensely radiant artificial light, and just like it did in your roles back in Minnesota, the real world vanishes and all that exists are these characters, these moments, and your body and mind become theirs, and perhaps even your soul too. Your husband is handsome and kind, and here in this liminal fictional space you love him, and when the surgeons wheel him off to the operating room you are full of blind naïve surety. Then the doctors update you on his condition and you are still hopeful, but it becomes a fragile thing, like something that shatters when it’s dropped from a height. And then he is dead, he has been taken away from you, he has been stolen, and you are eclipsed by a blood-red wrath that is animalistic and unforgiving. After each take when you are ripped back through the veil and into reality, you can’t remember exactly what you did or said, and the director doesn’t have many critiques so you aren’t sure how it’s going.
A) This whole thing felt like a summary for the story
B) at first she's whisked away in a world of Hollywood: glitter and glammer. She's "full of blind naive surety"..
C) Then it's she's less so but she still tries to be optimistic? As she realises this is not what she signed up for
D) husband is dead, Aegon is dead? Then she's full of rage
E) under artificial light? The Hollywood spotlight..
F) she starts to give them her body (plastic surgery), her mind (she starts to doubt and panic in fame) and then her soul (Hollywood kills her optimism and dream)
Also- Are the eyeshadows representing things?
A) In the first chapter she had shimmery, pink, warm brown eyeshadow (showing that she is warm, positive and sparkling with a dream, it's all new).
B) when she's with Mason, it's sparkly black. Like she's not 100% with him but that's okay because she still has her dream that she's gonna be able to be an actress and subconsciously be with someone better...
C) in the ice cream shop, she has bright pink- so bright in optimism still and pink meaning flirtatious feelings for Aegon?
Idk, all this is my crazy mind and I love whatever you come out with!
A Curse [Chapter 2: Harbor Gateway]
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A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome you have given this series!!! I am sick with bronchitis currently so this has been a big bright spot in an otherwise miserable week 😅 I can't wait to show you where this story is going, I hope you're ready for it 🥰💜
Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.
Chapter warnings: Language, a tiny bit of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, ice cream, judgmental parents, aggressive Akitas, we're literally in Minnesota!!!
Word count: 6.1k
💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜
Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰
🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️
Afterwards, Mason pulls his clothes back on as you are absentmindedly drawing stars in the steam on the windows of his Chevy Silverado. On the other side of the glass is inky Minnesota night, a full moon dissolving away, glowing freckles of constellations. You’re staying with your parents and Mason has roommates, so the truck was the expedient choice. It was good, not that you finished; you didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask, but even if he had you would have told him not to worry about it. It can take forever, especially with an audience. You’d rather wait until you’re alone.
Mason glances down at the used condom on the floor of his Silverado, hastily discarded, viscerally slick in a way that becomes sickening in the letdown, as the endorphins and the adrenaline slip away and the blood pumps slow and unclouded. He smirks as he asks: “You sure you don’t want to get back on the pill?”
You sigh, drawing another star. You are still naked and sprawled across the back seat, glistening with sweat in the moonlight. “Well I tried three different prescriptions and had three miserable experiences, and I’m really not interested in playing side effect roulette again. And I can’t risk my skin going insane and random bleeding when I’m running around all over L.A. trying to get parts.”
“What about that little sperm assassin T-shaped thing?”
You look at him. “An IUD?”
“Yeah.”
You wince, engraving another star into the steam on the window. “I don’t think I like the idea of having a piece of metal shoved up inside me.”
He laughs. “But you’ll get silicone implants?”
You shrug; you can’t deny the irony. “I don’t need an IUD to be an actress.”
“Look, I’m not complaining about the tits thing,” Mason says, holding up his hands. “Obviously I’d enjoy them too. And you’d still have them when you move home, so it’s not a waste even if the acting thing doesn’t work out.”
You already know he feels this way, and yet still, it hurts. “When I move home?”
He smiles and crawls back on top of you, his Carleton College hoodie whispering against your belly and chest, soft royal blue cotton on damp skin. He had been a Political Science and International Relations major who took Theater Arts 195: Acting Shakespeare for an arts credit. He was beyond terrible and had no appreciation for the field whatsoever, but he was tall and strong and jolly, an earnest corn-fed Midwestern boy, and when one day after class he’d asked if he could take you to Culver’s for a burger and frozen custard, you’d said yes.
Here and now, in the back seat of his Chevy Silverado, Mason kisses your forehead. Then he ghosts his thumb over the ridge of your orbital socket and cheekbone, where your dark glittery eyeshadow has smudged like a spreading bruise: Galaxy by Anastasia Beverly Hills, Elysian by Natasha Denona. “I’m not saying you aren’t good. But how many people on this planet get to be movie stars? It’s just not realistic. And it’s about so much more than talent. It’s about who you know, and luck, and chemistry, and looks, and a bunch of other things that are mostly out of your control. You’re never going to be the type of girl who’s an influencer or winning Miss America, you’re just not. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t very, very pretty. And I loved you anyway.”
Loved, past tense. You and Mason stopped using that word a year ago; now the nostalgia is painting memories like the walls of an old house. His memories, anyway. You sit up and start yanking on your clothes: oversized yellow Santa Monica crewneck, black sweatpants with elastic cuffs at the ankles. “I think I’m going to get the gummy bear implants.”
Mason licks his lips. “Yum.”
“They’re a type of silicone, but they’re supposed to feel more natural and be less dangerous if they rupture.”
“Will you have scars?” he says as if the notion has just occurred to him, troubled, perhaps a little revolted.
“Well yeah, they have to end up under my skin somehow.”
Mason shudders, then he has another thought. “Who’s going to take care of you after surgery when you’re all sore and zonked out on opioids?”
“My roommate Baela said she would. She’s had friends who have gone through it already.”
“Okay, good. I wouldn’t want you to be alone out there.” Mason touches the back of your head, a quick fond gesture. He’s the only man you’ve ever been with, and even that took a while, months of trying to envision him undressing you before you were sure you could do it without flinching, without being afraid or shy or bewildered. But in the end it had been easy, always easy, which is why you keep coming back to him like a comet. Your elliptical orbit takes you far away and then close again, and such natural patterns are effortless to keep.
You say, the edges of your lips curling into a furtive smile: “I’m definitely not alone.”
Mason groans. “You’re going to hook up with that new agent guy, aren’t you?”
“What? No! No way, he has a fiancée.”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s more amused than annoyed. “Okay, whatever.”
“You know I don’t date anyone.” Which is why each time you’re home visiting, Mason gets a text: Want to get lunch at Culver’s? or Can you drive me to Target? or Pick me up around 9 p.m.?
Mason smirks and taunts: “I don’t know, with the way you talk about him you sound kind of obsessed.”
“I’m just grateful. Someone finally gave me a chance.” You look to the window; the steam and your hand-drawn stars have evaporated away. “And yeah, he’s interesting and he’s cute, and he’s kind of mean but then unexpectedly caring sometimes, and I think he’s one of those people who are really good at what they do but only when they’re inspired…but that doesn’t mean I’m into him romantically.” A pause. “And even if I was, there’s no harm in a super-secret, one-sided crush.”
“Okay. Have fun with all the adulterous sex.”
You chuckle. “Thanks, but that is not the plan.” You slip on your flip-flops, shimmy out of the back seat, and trot around the Silverado to the passenger’s door. Mason climbs into the driver’s seat and turns his key in the ignition. You ask: “What happened to that ballerina girl who was in your Instagram stories for a while?”
“Had to ghost her, she got super clingy and controlling. She was texting me at work all the time and got pissed off when I was putting a ton of hours into that election thing for CNN.” Mason is a political analyst. He turns to you. “You ever feel like people are the best versions of themselves before you really know them? Then you get too close and all the cracks start showing.”
“I think people are wonderful. You just have to find the ones you click with.”
“I should have figured you’d say something like that.” He steers his truck out of the otherwise empty parking lot in Lac Lavon Park. “I’m looking forward to you being home again.”
“I’m not.”
You both laugh, and then Mason drives you to your parents’ house.
At the dining room table, Mom and Clara are researching wedding venues, vast countryside estates and metropolitan historic hotels. Clara got engaged two weeks ago during a vacation to Turks and Caicos. In the living room, Dad and Tripp are watching commentary on the NBA Finals. Tripp’s name isn’t really Tripp; he is the third James in a row, named after your father and grandfather, and Tripp is short for triple. All over the house, there are Akitas lolling in plush dog beds and clicking around on Brazilian Cherry hardwood floors. They have faces like teddy bears, but their dark eyes track you mistrustfully, as if you are an intruder.
No one asks where you have been. They barely acknowledge that you are back. “Hello, dear,” your mother calls distractedly from the dining room, and that’s all. You jog upstairs to the bathroom you share with Clara before anyone can notice your smeared makeup and the unsavory post-car-sex sweat gleaming on your skin. You get into the shower, turn on water so hot it is nearly scalding, and close your eyes. With your back pressed to the jade green tiles, your hand wanders down over your belly and stops between your legs. Your mind cycles through fantasies, but nothing seems to be working.
It’s not real. It can’t hurt anybody.
You imagine that Aegon is the one touching you, and in under a minute it’s over.
~~~~~~~~~~
“I want there to be horses,” Clara says, scrolling through her phone and ignoring the food on her plate: roast chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, green beans sauteed in garlic and olive oil, panzanella salad. Mom prepared it all herself, not because there was no help available—your parents have a housekeeper named Angela who comes by several days per week—but to prove she could. In the living room are shelves heavy with books by Martha Stewart, Ina Garten, Cat Cora, Julia Child, Nigella Lawson. You hear echoes of ambient clicking, Akitas meandering down hallways and staircases.
“Horses?!” Tripp replies with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Don’t you get enough horses in your everyday life? Don’t you have like five right out there?” Your parents’ house sits on ten acres of land, including a barn and several paddocks for Clara’s rescued Thoroughbreds.
“I want beautiful horses,” Clara insists. “Unusual, photogenic, so they can be in the background of all the photos. Maybe Friesians or Haflingers?”
“I’m not sure we can sort the venues by types of horses available, dear,” Mom says. All that’s on her own plate is a heap of green beans and a few pieces of skinless white meat chicken.
Clara moans and drops her face into her hands. “It’s so overwhelming!”
“You’ll find a place you like, Clara Bear,” Dad says mildly, painstakingly slicing meat off a drumstick with his fork and knife.
“And Owen is no help at all. Every time I ask for his opinion he just tells me to do whatever I think is best, but I don’t know what’s best, that’s why I’m asking him!”
Your mother pats Clara’s shoulder reassuringly. “Guys don’t care about weddings,” Tripp says, twisting around in his chair to see the television in the living room. On a rerun of E! News, the hosts are discussing Chris Hemsworth’s rigorous fitness regime and Meghan Trainor’s “mommy makeover.” You peek under the tablecloth. One of the Akitas, Yuki, is glaring as she waits for you to drop something for her to eat.
“You could do something like that,” Mom says to you, and you realize you haven’t been listening to the conversation.
“Sorry, do what?”
“You could be a wedding planner or a real estate agent. Those are actual careers, but there’s more creativity involved, isn’t there? And didn’t you take a design class in college? That would certainly come in handy.”
“Hm,” your father says with a frown, still dissecting his chicken. He would rather you go to law school like Tripp. You would rather lie down in traffic.
“I took a set design class, Mom. Because I was studying how to be an actress. And that’s what I’m doing right now in Los Angeles, trying to be an actress.”
“You could become an architect!” Mom bursts out with sudden enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
You titter evasively. “I can’t draw, Mom. Or use the modeling software, or do math.”
“You know, you don’t need any specific degree to get into law school,” Tripp says, and your father gives him a nod of approval. “You could have majored in dance or bagpiping or Egyptology, it doesn’t matter. All they want is a high undergrad GPA and a 168+ LSAT score, and I bet you could get that if you studied. You can even retake the test a few times if you need to.”
“Why do you do that?” Clara snaps at him. You eat your panzanella salad and pretend not to be listening. Beneath the tablecloth, Yuki growls. You toss her a few cubes of Italian bread so she won’t bite you.
Tripp shovels mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Do what?”
“Why are you always wasting your time trying to convince her to grow up and get a real job? If she wants to embarrass herself, let her. I have problems that I’m trying to solve, so how about applying yourself to those instead?”
“Are you serious? You think I should be calling around to wedding venues asking about their selection of exotic draft horses?”
Clara aggressively stabs at her green beans with her fork. “Fuck off, Tripp.”
“Hey, hey, kids, no swearing,” your mother says. “It’s Father’s Day. Be respectful.”
Dad turns to you. “You could be an entertainment lawyer, how about that? You could work in intellectual property or negotiating contracts.”
You smile warily. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”
Clara says to your parents: “Well I hope all the money you’re throwing out the window to support her in California isn’t coming out of my wedding fund.”
You close your eyes and think: I can’t spend my life in a cubical. I can’t spend every minute of every day trying to forget who I am.
“Shh, shh,” your mother pleads, rubbing the back of Clara’s clenched hand. “You will get exactly what we promised you, that amount is still set aside for your wedding. Nothing she does affects you.”
“And it’s only until the end of the year,” your father adds. “Then the vacation is over.” Then the meager allowance they are funneling to you will stop and you will be ordered to return home to pursue an honorable course of existence. You have six months to succeed in Hollywood, or the dream dies.
Your father is now asking Tripp about his summer associate position at Latham & Watkins in Chicago. Your mother is advising Clara to get a wedding dress with a corset back so it can be adjusted in the event she gains or loses weight at the last minute. Underneath the table, Yuki is growling again; she noses your knees threateningly.
“I got an agent,” you say, and everyone looks at you.
“Really?” Mom asks, sounding a little perplexed.
“Who is it?” Dad says.
“Aegon Targaryen. He has a small office in Elysian Park.”
“Oh, I think I recognize the last name.”
“His family is in the industry.” You are beaming; you can feel the heat rising in your face. “But Aegon kind of does his own thing and tries to stay out of the limelight. He was an actor when he was my age. And I guess he thinks I can get roles, so that’s really exciting.”
Your mother seems concerned as she nibbles at a shred of white meat. “Is he an older man?”
“Not that much older. He’s thirty-five.”
“Well, be careful, darling,” your father says gravely. “Who knows what his intentions are.”
Clara evidently agrees. “Men can be so creepy. I had this one professor in pharmacy school who cheated on his wife with one student, then cheated on her six months later with a different student. And then he retired to Boca Raton and was never heard from again.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Tripp says to your father. “We read about Clinton v. Jones in torts class, it was wild, I didn’t know he was such a freak even before the Monica Lewinsky thing…”
After dinner, while your father and Tripp are flipping through television channels in the living room and Clara is upstairs on the phone with Owen, you go to the kitchen where your mother is washing dishes in a bubble-filled sink. Again, she doesn’t have to do this; Angela will be here to clean the house tomorrow. But it’s part of being a perfect homemaker, and if she’s not good at this then she’s not good at anything.
She glances over when she hears you come in. “Did you get an appointment with one of the doctors your father recommended?”
“I did, yeah. I have a consultation on Friday.” You lean against the marble countertop and cross your arms so you don’t fidget nervously. From a dog bed on the floor, Mochi glowers at you. “Do you think I should get the surgery?”
She shrugs; you’re not certain if she is more indecisive or apathetic. “Your cousin Madison had a nose job the summer before college. Your old classmate Emma got a blepharoplasty and then met her husband three months later. Practically all of my friends have had breast augmentations, and I’ve certainly never regretted mine. I think if you’re going to get anything fixed, it makes sense to pick that.”
You try again to elicit a strong opinion, whether an endorsement or objection. “I don’t think I’d want to do it if I didn’t feel like it was necessary to be an actress.”
“Well, regardless of whatever you have going on in California, you’ll either have to get them done now or after you have children,” Mom says. “I love you and Clara and Tripp, but you destroyed my body. At least doctors can repair breasts. My bladder is still useless.”
You stare at Mochi distractedly. The dog huffs, unwelcoming. “What was the recovery like?”
“Oh, hell,” your mother says. “But once you heal up it’s worth it. I can wear square necklines and strapless dresses again.”
“Technically, you could have worn whatever you wanted.”
She gives you an impatient look, a you’re too old for that sort of frustration. “No one wants to see some sad flabby woman.” She is including your father in this statement. You remember being home for Thanksgiving Break during your freshman year at Carleton and inadvertently stumbling upon emails from one of the hospital interns when you used his laptop to buy movie tickets: indecent inuendoes, flirtatious photos, no smoking gun but certainly more than was appropriate between colleagues. You had tried to tell your mother, and she had deflected over and over again until you realized that she didn’t want to know; it was easier to be carried by the currents of momentum than to rock the boat until it sank. “This agent of yours…is he celebrating Father’s Day with his family?”
“No, Aegon lost his dad when he was in college.”
“That must have been difficult,” she says vaguely as she scrubs a pot with a green Scotch-Brite dish wand. Your parents are now at the age when their friends have begun to succumb to strokes and heart disease and cancers, and the lurking specter of mortality both horrifies and fascinates them. “What did he die of?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Mom?!” Clara shouts from upstairs. “Osaka is puking in the hallway!”
Your mother sighs and dries her hands on a dish towel, then leaves you alone in the kitchen. You linger there for a while, listening to the faint drone of CNN from the living room television, then leave the house through the sliding glass door in the dining room. Outside the sun is setting, and you gaze westward as the aging daylight turns the tall green grass and silhouettes of horses to gold like the mines that first brought settlers to California. You slide your phone out of the pocket of your denim shorts and take a photo, then post it to your Instagram story with the caption Home and a smiley face emoji.
A minute later, you receive a DM. Aegon has typed: This explains the big horse girl energy
You laugh and respond: They belong to my sister, I am personally very anti-horse
You hope he’ll continue the conversation. You don’t have to wait long. How’s Minnesota? Aegon asks.
You stop and consider how to answer, then decide not to overshare. Devoid of palm trees…but good!
There is a pause—perhaps thirty seconds—and then Aegon types: How’s the ex-boyfriend?
Is he curious or jealous? You smile. Still not standing in the way of anything :)
Aegon reacts with a heart emoji, then immediately switches it to a thumbs-up. You cannot ignore the wave of warmth and fondness and exhilaration that overwhelms you. Logically, you know he’s engaged to another woman. Emotionally, it doesn’t seem relevant.
You think: It’s just a crush. It can’t hurt anybody.
Then you remember what your mother asked, and as you stand outside in the fading dusk light you Google Aegon’s father Viserys Targaryen. He has his own Wikipedia page. You scroll to the bottom, where it reads in nondescript black letters: On October 27, 2009, Targaryen passed away at his Malibu residence after a long illness.
~~~~~~~~~~
You have just finished ringing up a Like It-sized Apple Pie A La Cold Stone when Josh says: “Hey, there’s an old guy asking for you.”
“What?” You look towards the ice cream freezer and there he is, dark jeans, green Nike Killshots, a yellow Hawaiian shirt that’s too big for him. “It’s my agent!” you shout as you rush over to meet him, loud enough that everyone in the shop turns to stare.
“Shh,” Aegon says, but he’s laughing.
“What are you doing here?” you ask from behind the counter.
“I got some good news, and I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Cool! Should I make you ice cream first?”
“Um, sure.” Aegon surveys the menu of Signature Creations. He seems overwhelmed; he actually looks a little panicked.
“Are you usually a chocolate or vanilla person? Or peanut butter, or coffee? Or mint?”
“Strawberry,” Aegon says.
“Strawberry,” you echo, surprised. “Okay, I think you’ll like Our Strawberry Blonde.”
“Neat.”
“Because, you know, it has strawberries and you’re blonde.”
“Sounds literally perfect for me,” Aegon says, smiling.
“What size?”
“Uh…” He reads the labels on the cups in the display case. “The big one.”
“No, you have to say the real name.”
He chuckles. His cheeks are pink, his turbulent blue eyes sparkling. “I’m not saying that.”
“Then I’m not making you ice cream!”
He groans. “I want an Our Strawberry Blonde in the size Gotta Have It.”
“Cup, cone, or waffle cone bowl?”
“Stop asking me questions or you’re fired.”
“Waffle cone bowl,” you decide. Aegon studies you as you work, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side: scraping a mound of strawberry ice cream out of the freezer with your metal spatulas, taking it to the cold countertop, and smashing in graham cracker pie crust, caramel, fluffy whipped topping, and fresh strawberries. You use one of the spatulas to expertly scoop the mixture into a waffle cone bowl, not spilling a drop. Then you hand Aegon his ice cream and ring him up at the cash register. He pays in cash.
You ask Josh, the manager on duty, if you can take your fifteen-minute break now. He frowns. “I thought you were going to refill the yellow cake and Oreo cookie mix-ins first.”
“Hey,” Aegon says. He waves a ten-dollar bill in the air to show it to Josh and then dunks it in the tip jar. “Do it yourself.”
“Fine,” Josh mutters to you. “But you don’t get a second over fifteen minutes.”
There’s no time to waste. You hurry to a small table by the window. It’s 8:30 p.m., and outside the world is indigo-dark and threaded with inorganic sparks of headlights, streetlights, kaleidoscopic neon signs. Your eyeshadow is vibrant and pink, because no one cares about that when you work at an ice cream shop: Push by Natasha Denona, Coax by Urban Decay.
Aegon takes his first taste of his ice cream as he sits down in the chair across from you. “You were right, this is delicious. A bop, not a flop.” Then he notices the bruise on your right wrist. “What the hell happened to your hand?”
“Oh. One of the Akitas bit me. Don’t worry, I can cover it up with concealer.”
Aegon is irritated. “Why is your mother letting her Akitas bite you?”
“It was my fault. I forgot that Oni doesn’t like when people pet his feet.”
Aegon sighs, stirring his Our Strawberry Blonde. “You want some of this?”
“I can’t,” you say reluctantly.
He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you can’t?”
“I already had a little cup when I got here this afternoon so I have regrettably hit my ice cream quota for the day.” And then, when Aegon clearly does not approve: “I try not to restrict too much but obviously staying the same size takes effort. That’s not a disorder, it’s just reality.”
Aegon seems to debate arguing, then instead scoops up a heaping spoonful of ice cream and holds it out across the table. “Come on. It doesn’t count if it’s on my spoon.”
You smile sheepishly and open your mouth for him. Your lips close around the plastic spoon: coldness, sweetness, the grit of pulverized graham cracker pie crust, the infinitesimal black seeds of strawberries that catch between your teeth. When Aegon begins to pull it away, you grab his hand and don’t let go until you’ve licked the spoon clean. He laughs hysterically as he watches you. “I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in forever,” you say.
“Don’t tell me you’re a vanilla girl.”
“I am,” you confess. “I know the joke. But I really do always get the vanilla-adjacent flavors. Cookie dough, French vanilla, sweet cream, cheesecake…”
Aegon smirks playfully. “Pathetic.”
“So you’re an enlightened being because you eat strawberry ice cream.”
“Boring people like vanilla. Kids like chocolate. Interesting adults like strawberry.”
“Do you actually have good news for me or did you just come here to be a ghoul?”
“I got you a part.”
“What?!” you squeal, and people are gawking again. This time, Aegon doesn’t tell you to be quiet. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he replies, grinning like he can’t help it.
“A part in what?”
“It’s small,” Aegon warns. “It’s an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”
You scream; Josh scowls at you from behind the counter. “Oh my God, no way, no way!”
“You’re going to be the wife of a guy the doctors kill with negligence. Three scenes, two are pretty short and unremarkable but then you get to yell at the surgeon in the last one. Gives you the opportunity to show some range and make an impression.”
You can’t believe this is happening. “They aren’t going to make me audition first?”
“Well…it’s very last-minute,” Aegon says. “The actress who was supposed to do it has a drug problem or something, I guess, so she ghosted and they were scrambling for a replacement. And I completely fabricated your credentials.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, I typed up a resume and sent it over and they loved it. So try not to talk about your actual experience because none of it will match.”
You shake your head, stunned, amazed. “What if they try to contact one of my alleged former employers?”
“Then they’ll be talking to Aemond, and he will lie and say you were an absolute pleasure to work with.”
Aemond Targaryen: Aegon’s younger brother, a screenwriter, a philanthropist, a well-respected entity in Hollywood, and you know this from the Googling that preceded your first meeting with Aegon last week. “And Aemond doesn’t mind helping you commit fraud?”
“It’s not a favor I call in very often.” Aegon finishes his ice cream, then begins breaking apart the waffle cone bowl and shoving shard-like pieces into his mouth.
“When’s the shoot?”
“Very very early on Thursday, that’s the bad news.” Thursday is two days from now. “So I’ll have to pick you up at your apartment at like 5 a.m.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be ready.”
He smiles, gnawing on a chunk of his waffle cone bowl. “I figured.”
“You’re going too?” The hope is unmistakable in your voice.
“Of course I’m going.”
“I didn’t think agents usually went to film shoots.”
“Well, fortunately for you, your agent is imminently fleeing Los Angeles and has already parted ways with most of his clients and really has nothing else going on besides hiding in his office and playing a Nintendo 64, so I figured I could make it. And also if I’m going to be enthusiastically recommending you to people, I should probably see you work at some point.”
You wiggle your eyebrows flirtatiously. “Do I get to make out with my fake husband?”
Aegon is amused. “From what I understand, you get to chastely kiss him once. They’re sending the script over to my office first thing in the morning, so you’ll only have a day to learn your lines.”
“That’s enough time. I’ll make it work.”
“Always so agreeable,” Aegon muses. So desperate is more like it.
Thursday. “Is the shoot just one day?”
“Yeah, they should be able to get everything they need from you on Thursday morning. Why?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday and I was just wondering if I’d have to reschedule it.”
Aegon is immediately vigilant. “What kind of appointment?”
“Uh…” You smirk guiltily. “It’s just a consultation. No slicing yet.”
“And you’re going to cancel that,” Aegon says flatly.
“Seriously?”
“Do you want implants because you want them or because you think other people want you to have them?”
You hesitate. “Both.” That’s probably a lie.
Aegon leans back in his chair and studies you. “Yeah, you’re cancelling that appointment.”
“Why?”
“Because when I agreed to sign you, you told me that you’d do anything I say. And I’m telling you to cancel it.”
“But why don’t you want me to get implants? Everyone gets implants.”
“Because once you begin to treat scalpels and needles as prescriptions for everything you don’t like about yourself—or everything that other people don’t like about you—it’s very difficult to stop. First it’s your tits, then it’s your eyes and your nose, then it’s your chin and your cheeks and your neck and your ass, and it’s just this revolving door of painful, dangerous, unnecessary procedures that are condemning you for being mortal, that are carving away your humanity one incision at a time. I’ve seen it happen to more people than I could count, and I don’t want it to happen to you. Because you seem very, very human, and I’d like you to stay that way. Which means you don’t cut yourself up because some agent or producer or casting director told you to.” Then he adds, perhaps as an afterthought: “And anyway, you don’t need implants.”
You smile, then reply quietly: “You’ve never seen me.”
Aegon grins. “I don’t care if you have twelve nipples under there like a fucking beagle, you don’t need plastic surgery.”
You both laugh, and the tension evaporates, and even if you don’t cancel the appointment—Aegon is one person, the entertainment industry is omnipotent and eternal—you are glad he seems to like you the way you are. Behind the counter, Josh is waving manically to get your attention and summon you to return to work. You pretend not to see him.
Aegon asks: “Why don’t you like horses?”
“They freak me out. They’re all teeth and legs and they’re huge, I’m always scared they’ll step on me.”
“Your dad’s a doctor, right? I thought all rich girls had horses.”
“Where I’m from, a lot of women ride horses to distract themselves from the fact that their husbands are riding their receptionists or interns. I’d rather have no horse and no awful cheating husband.” And Aegon stares at you and turns serious, because perhaps you’ve inadvertently addressed the elephant in the room: he has a fiancée, and neither of you are acting like she exists. You swiftly pivot. “I’ll make an exception for you, though.”
He appears startled. “What?”
“The Chinese zodiac. You’re a horse. So you’re the only horse I like.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Aegon chuckles uneasily and gets up to throw his trash away, then stands under the florescent lights with his hands in his pockets, his blonde hair falling out of its gel and hanging over his forehead. He gazes down at you pensively; you are still seated at the table. “When does your shift end?”
“I’m closing tonight, so I’ll be done around 10:30 or 11.”
“Okay. Can I come back to pick you up and drive you home?”
You are puzzled. “Why?”
He gestures to the inky dark window, incredulous. “Because obviously you shouldn’t be walking alone in Harbor Gateway at midnight? You know there was a shooting a block from here last week. I looked it up.”
“I walk home all the time.”
“You really need to stop doing that.”
“You are being very dramatic for a non-actor.”
“Listen, I can’t go to my house and try to fall asleep while I’m wondering if you’re getting mugged or murdered.”
You look at Aegon. He does seem genuinely worried. “You can drive me home.”
“Great. See you in two hours.” He strides away and shoves open the glass door; the little metal bells hanging there jingle.
“Aegon?”
He halts mid-step and turns around. “Yeah?”
“Does Becca know where you are right now?”
His face is some amalgamation of emotions you can’t read, and this is unusual.“Why do you think I paid in cash?”
And before you can reply, he’s gone.
~~~~~~~~~~
On Thursday, June 19th, Aegon picks you up in his white Chrysler Sebring convertible while the city is still asleep. The sky is dark, the streetlights passing by overhead, infinite pinpoint supernovas. There are hardly any other cars on the road. Aegon’s hair is a mess and his eyes are bleary; he’s sipping a Starbucks coffee with one hand and holding the steering wheel with the other. He is wearing a suit, but he still manages to look unpolished, his white shirt half-untucked and his black tie too skinny. He sets his coffee down in one of the cup holders and passes you something venti-sized and iced.
“I got you a vanilla latte, vanilla girl.”
“Aw, thanks! Skim milk?”
“Nope,” he says, smiling. You smile back and take a gulp of it, cold and sweet and bracing. “What’s your hype song?”
“I can’t tell you,” you say, embarrassed.
“Why not?”
“You’re going to terrorize me.”
“Don’t Stop Believing? Don’t Stop Me Now? I Gotta Feeling?”
“Lose Yourself.”
Aegon throws back his head and cackles, his hair flying in the wind. “That’s definitely a fireable offense. I’m ditching you the second we finish this shoot.” But he taps around on his phone and plugs in the aux, and then Eminem is thudding through the speakers as the Sebring sails north and the red-gold dawn rises on the horizon, a celestial message from the East Coast, an omen from the future.
Aegon drives you to Prospect Studios in Los Feliz, just east of Hollywood. Filming will be indoors on a soundstage. You spend what feels like forever in hair and makeup, and the costume designer—who had prepared for a different actress—dresses and redresses you over and over again, frowning at your chest and waist and thighs, and you have a sudden pang of nauseating panic and dread: I don’t belong here. What the fuck was I thinking?
Then you are in the scenes under intensely radiant artificial light, and just like it did in your roles back in Minnesota, the real world vanishes and all that exists are these characters, these moments, and your body and mind become theirs, and perhaps even your soul too. Your husband is handsome and kind, and here in this liminal fictional space you love him, and when the surgeons wheel him off to the operating room you are full of blind naïve surety. Then the doctors update you on his condition and you are still hopeful, but it becomes a fragile thing, like something that shatters when it’s dropped from a height. And then he is dead, he has been taken away from you, he has been stolen, and you are eclipsed by a blood-red wrath that is animalistic and unforgiving. After each take when you are ripped back through the veil and into reality, you can’t remember exactly what you did or said, and the director doesn’t have many critiques so you aren’t sure how it’s going.
But when it’s over, while you are still standing on the soundstage with the other actors, Aegon puts on his sunglasses and smiles at you from across the room; and you remember what he said outside his office on the day you first met—you are so bright, sunshine—and you know you’ve done a good job.
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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 17 hours ago
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Mimi i js want to put my though about neglected reader cause i feel comfortablewith u, but me personally I feel like reader would be a theater kid cause they can act how they wants to be and be in settings where the character they're playing family actually cares about them so they would get super attached to the stage cause they can fake all the comfort and family activities they always wanted to experience along with all the theater people become really good friends and reader would go to there friends house and spend time with there family. Idk it's js a though I've had for a minute I was hearing hamilton and it struck me. Anyway have a nice day mimi💗😘
awwwww omg thank you 💕💕 i’m so glad you feel comfy here!! that’s honestly my goal and such a huge compliment!!
ok so i’m IBLD reader is a theatre kid, i was kinda thinking of doing that for “this is me trying” but idk bc i don’t wanna be too repetitive! lmk what y’all think please!
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ravenbloodshot · 1 day ago
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Hello! Idk if you saw about Aespa going viral for white painting on their bodies. Tbh Aespa girls are becoming more and more uncanny looking by years. A lot of white painting, bleaching and they look like a wax doll which is even worse because they already have a pale skin to start with especially Winter and Karina. Also infamous Karina AI jaw and current Giselle plastic surgery is looking very weird like the lip fillers and botox are kinda getting outta hand. Only Ningning looks normal in the group now. It's not just me all users on tiktok and reddit are agreeing about this also. I'm worried about the girls because SM is known to force their idols to go under surgery and it's in contract. Can you tell us this is what girls want or are they forced? What do you think?
Let's see...
What I'm seeing is interesting. I see that they view their plastic surgery and their attempts to better fit the beauty standards as a necessity to survive. Like I'm literally seeing that the entire purpose of it is to suit/fulfill the male gaze or wants. To better find a mate and be better off socially, financially, or whatnot. (What I'm picking up sounds barbarian, but they want better appearances to have a better pick of men romantically). Also, career wise, they and their company want the male fans to find them beautiful so they're doing whatever they can to make that happen and cash in on that.
I'm also picking up a copy and paste vibe. So I definitely think there's a blueprint for how the girls should appear. (There are theories that SM has an exact plastic surgery look they like to replicate, and there's likely some truth to that). I wouldn't be surprised if SM had a naturally beautiful female or male idol that they uphold as their beauty standard for idols now. (For example, Kim jaejoong, etc...).
I'm not exactly seeing that they've been forced to alter their appearance. It's likely they already knew their natural looks wouldn't have gotten them very far in the industry, so they were more than willing to change that for better opportunities. Though, I will say that they were picked apart and judged heavily . SM didn't hold back when it came to critiquing their looks. (Reminds me of how Twice members were judged and insulted during their survival show, its a very common practice in the idol industry)
I do see some regret. Mostly regret for getting work done so young. I heard, "I wish i waited till I was more mature and could make better decisions."
When it comes to the skin bleaching accusations. Their energy is completely avoidant. I keep getting cards that basically mean that they don't want to think about it or speak about it. So, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a hidden feeling of shame or embarrassment. Even if a friend or loved one was to discuss this topic with them, I doubt they would answer anything directly. Everything about this energy is so "hush, hush."
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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days ago
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You know I've been meaning to ask.. is everything okay? I mean your pfp is blank. I understand you're uploading, but I also want to make sure you're okay
idk if i have some mental connection with you, anon, because how else i can explain that you sent this ask right when i felt so bad??? but yeah i should really put a pfp, i just can’t choose the right pic and at same time im lazy….
honestly i promised myself i wouldn’t vent online and irl because i don’t wanna be annoying or be the kind of person people get tired of. but i guess i just feel emotional rn sorry again
well 2025 kinda kicked me in the face already LMAO, it already reminded me that some people will always pick someone else and some things are just not meant to be yours. i just got reminded once again that i’m super replaceable to person i really loved and cared about. so now im realising that i was just there to pass the time until they found smth better, someone better. and they did, they did and that’s just unfair for me, i literally loved this person for 10 years and that's how i ended up
not exactly the fresh start i was hoping for lol
been feeling like a ghost in my own life lately so i guess i made this blog to just be somewhere, to talk to people, to share things i love, to feel like i exist in some small way. to find friends? idk. sometimes i wonder if i’m just taking up space here, but deleting this blog feels dramatic so whatever. although i thought bout this a lot and still think about it, but i guess im just being... yeah, dramatic, i mean i am, ive been told. so, i don't know, deleting feels rude ? and i don’t wanna be rude, i hate being rude :( i still hesitate every time i post though. and i don’t want to be that person who craves reassurance but damn, it gets lonely and im embarrassed to even say that rn
+ last year drained me so much that i couldn’t even start anything for a whole month. its about my work, i just felt stuck, exhausted before i even tried. things are getting better now with my work, though. it’s actually tied to people and honestly, i love that?? i mean, i love people very much. in general. so whenever i meet someone kind or understanding in my work, it lifts my mood
but when it comes to writing or fics, i feel like i’m always fighting myself. actually i enjoy writing, ive been writing since… 14? 13? so i try, i push through, but nothing ever feels right lately. i don’t know if it’s just a phase or if this is how it’s always going to be. why i always feel like i could’ve done better or that maybe i shouldn’t have posted at all
anyways….. i don’t usually post stuff like this. i really don’t want to be like this, i hate sounding so negative, i really do. i promised myself i wouldn’t. i usually just keep things to myself, but you seemed like you genuinely cared, sweetheart and i figured i might as well be honest, i appreciate your worry! thank u sm angel! ♡
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gribok-art · 8 hours ago
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Another Good Omens "hear me out" moment Though I want to work on original projects the Good Omens obsession won't let me rest
I remember Jesus in the Bible being very human. After double checking today, I can see so much potential with him interacting with Aziraphale and Crowley. (A little headcanon of mine as well, maybe God was genderfluid, so some periods it was Mother, some times Father)
He prayed three times to not let himself be crucified. Even if he knew it was the plan, he still begged his (at the time) Father to not let it happen. He took his chances, although nonexistant.
He'd be quite rebellious in character it feels. Praying to stop the plan, flipping tables at the temple, letting a fig tree dry out because it didn't have fruits even though it wasn't the season.
Some specialists theorize Judas could have been a lover (or at least very close to Jesus). In Good Omens, a cool headcanon I thought of, what if Jesus got so close to Judas, loved him so much, then learned from God he must be the one to betray him, he had no choice, manipulated Judas to betray him, and Judas kissed him before they were separated. Sounds familiiaaarr.
Jesus could have felt lonely, scared, abandonned on the cross. He was going along the plan, sacrificing himself, suffering. Judas just betrayed him, and he didn't feel God was there, calling for Him. Interesting, because that could make him relatable to both Crowley and Aziraphale.
I imagined maybe he wouldn't involve himself with the system and hierarchies of Heaven. Like, during his time on Earth, it's known he would go with the poor, the sick, the sinners. If it was up to him he wouldn't be on a throne like a king. So maybe he got away and found himself some nice isolated place in Heaven, closer to the lower ranked angels. I mean, so far even with God we haven't seen Her involved much in Heaven's affairs. The Metatron acts as the messenger, but maybe he's taking decisions as well. Wouldn't be surprising if Jesus wasn't involved either, and that's why high ranked angels seem to do as they please. God just watches.
Aziraphale could be struggling to fix the system, fail, and find himself wandering far in Heaven alone, lost, and he finds Jesus, and they have a talk, and Jesus understands and relates but the plan is the plan, nothing they can do. *That's* where Aziraphale could maybe tell him about the system, how he views the innefable plan, that Jesus *can* do something about it.
Jesus could be curious about Crowley. Maybe since he's been away so long he considers like other angels that demons are unforgivable and bad, period. But because of Aziraphale he goes down on Earth to the bookshop, somehow idk gets to talk with Crowley, and they kinda actually get along, Jesus understands him, maybe realizes that the system is indeed wrong, that he viewed demons wrong.
Oooh this could be sooo interesting
Because so far we know only Aziraphale and Crowley have been among humans so long that they have some humanity and can understand the system is wrong, so they have their own side.
But there's also Jesus that literally lived as a human. And so many things he did or said or happened to him could be relatable to Azi and/or Crowley.
I feel like it has so much potential I want to draw a comic about it but a short one aaaahhh
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henkdeplank · 24 hours ago
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I should be thanking you for writing all of these paragraphs, they’re super interesting and I’m enjoying this back-n-forth a lot :)
I hadn’t even thought about the fact that both the dragons and teens will need to be careful about changes in behavior. Hmmm… although I think that Fishlegs could be relatively easy to hide, considering (atleast I think) he’s generally more a pacifist/less aggressive person. And I think he would, regardless of having befriended Meatlug or not, be someone who just kinda plays defense. If that makes sense. The Twins are so wierd and crazy no one would really bat an eye I think? The bigger problem would be the dragons reactions, because the difference in their behavior is such a drastic change. I mean, both Meatlug and BarfnBelch are really quite agressive in the first movie. Although BnB kinda played with their food when we got introduced in the ring, so maybe they could convince them its some sort of game..? But meatlug… yea I don’t know how thats gonna work, because she does like a complete 360 in terms of behavior, there is no way they could hide that. Then there is the biggest concern, atleast for Hiccup I think. That Astrid would end up hurting one of the dragons. So I think the teens would have to switch up their games to pacify the dragons BEFORE Astrid could possibly hurt them. But that in turn would draw a shitload of suspicion from Astrid and Gobber. Now I think that in Gobbers case this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I think it would even help to convince him if he sees the actual results of it. He’s also relatively open minded, though he might hold a slight grudge considering he lost 2 limbs to a dragon. Idk, though, I don’t think he’d be as hard as Astrid to convince atleast. And speaking of Astrid… yea that’s a hard one 😅.
Also considering just how much time Hiccup will have to spend in the forge, I don’t think Gobber will fail to notice. And that’s not even talking straight behavioral changes, because Gobber would probably notice that too, atleast a little. Now I do think Gobber would, and rightfully so, be a little skeptical of his new inventions even if he did find them. But besides that, I think he would more or less leave Hiccup to his own. He’d notice, and he’d be concerned for Hiccup probably, he might want to talk about it, but I don’t think that would be in a bad way.
Urgh honestly I don’t know, it’s hard to say with Gobber. I always see him as a sort of 2nd dad for hiccup, a more communicative and actively caring dad. Hiccups shoulder to lean on when he’s struggling. Idk how you see him though, and its a very fic dependent thing, so its really hard to say how you want to portray him.
For the part of potentially freeing the dragons. Yea there isn’t really any discreet way of doing it so that Gobber or Astrid wouldn’t notice.. So at least Gobber would have to be in the know, and probably Astrid aswell. The idea of going out and coming back to train with them during the night is quite risky… but it might work. Like you said though, might not be very productive… lmao
Now time frame for ALL of this is vage at best, Hiccup has a shitload to do and not a whole lot of time to do it. And considering what is first plan is of training stormfly, make gear and defeat RedDeath. Yea… his plans are gonna be constantly changing. In the movies its already very unclear what the timeframe is for the trip to the nest, but I think that Stoicks trip to Helheims gate should indeed be around 2-3 weeks. Now it doesn’t seem like it in the movies, but considering how they all talk about it, and they’re worried about the ice setting in I don’t think that is unreasonable. But tbf that’s entirely up to you, creative licensing and all that I guess :)
I feel like these ramblings are even less coherent than my last ones, heh whoops.
Thank you again for responding and taking the time to write out some of your thoughts and ideas, I really enjoy this. Honestly this whole concept and story is so intriguing, and everytime you respond with more thoughts and stuff it’s just throwing oil onto the fire.
HTTYD Fan Fic Idea
A Time-Travel Not! Fix-It
Uh, basically (I don’t know the cause but SOMEHOW) post-RTTE but pre-Drago Hiccup wakes up 3-4 years in the past in his 15 year-old body about a week before the day he shot down Toothless.
Cue in panicked attempts to figure out how that even HAPPENED and Hiccup trying to find a way back to his own time, while also knowing the raid that caused him and Toothless to meet and changed his life is fast approaching and “what if I can’t find a way back to my own time, what if I’m stuck here and what if I never see Toothless again if I don’t shoot him down like last time, I don’t want to hurt him, what if something WORSE HAPPENS TO HIM IF I DONT–“
And then he shoots the bola, afraid of the result, regardless of which one it ends up being.
And he misses.
And now he’s stuck without Toothless and trying to figure out how to fight the Red Death without his bud but also without putting anyone else in unnecessary danger, meaning he can’t just go around training dragons because his dad will do what he did last time–
So he tries to be discreet in the beginning.
Eventually he gets caught by someone from the gang for sneaking into the dragon arena after training hours and actually walking OUT of where the DRAGONS are. (I’m like 75% sure I’m gonna go with Snotlout.)
One thing leads to another, Hiccup connects the gang with their dragons. But also they’re left wondering “Okay, but where’s your dragon? How do you know so much and yet you never fly on one of your own?”
Cue in Hiccup missing Toothless and struggling to give them even a vague explanation to the situation and them not really getting it and trying to get his spirits up and pushing him to find a new dragon partner.
I’m not sure what happens next but I want a random chance encounter between Toothless and Hiccup at some point after this. And Hiccup is just standing there, SO happy to see his best friend and missing him SO much because he know Toothless hasn’t the slightest idea who he is.
But then maybe dragon hunters come after Toothless and when Hiccup hears about it he runs to the rescue and jumps in to protect Toothless (maybe even gets a little hurt in the process, don’t we like drama in this house).
Roughly around that time he finally tells the gang that he’s technically from the future? Because “Hiccup, WHY are you so obsessed with that dragon???” I have a little snipped of him and Astrid talking some time after the reveal.
Toothless is very confused by Hiccup’s behaviour but eventually decides to trust him and when Hiccup ends up in danger instead, Toothless moves in to protect him.
And that’s how they manage to find their way to each other!
I have no idea if I want to keep going with this plot in a way that it just settles back into canon to some extent, or if I want to let Hiccup go back to his own time eventually.
I would have to figure out if I wanna make the time travel make sense first or not. XD
But if it DOES end up making sense, I can see it as like young Hiccup and older Hiccup having switched places in time until one of them finds the solution and reverses their places.
Uuuuuh… typing that out made a lot of ideas flood into my brain. Ideas that may require of me to move some plot points around.
Oh yeah, for extra angst, of course I considered the option for older Hiccup to have been post-Drago Hiccup. Because him interacting with Stoick in the past would be… yeah.
But then like, that would imply he knows about his mom and the Sanctuary, and I kinda didn’t want him to because he could just fly there, meet his mom and then the whole fic turns into him trying to help the dragons by trying to get his parents to just MEET.
… which would be an interesting fic that I wouldn’t mind reading either, but my focus here is different. XD
Also, in the case of a switch, I didn’t wanna put young Hiccup through the pain of finding out his dad is dead and he’s chief now.
So that was a long rant.
I guess I’m dropping this off here because as many fanfic ideas as I do have, I write them out impossibly slowly. So I just gave snippets of this thing. Not a single even half-way done chapter.
And it would be sad if this never sees the light of day, you know? I need more “Hiccup and Toothless would die for each other” centric fanfics in my life.
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they-call-me-youngermoney · 2 months ago
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still experimenting with this colouring/art style and uhhhh i adore luther
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ra-vio · 29 days ago
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this blog is 11 years old now 🎉
I drew the siblings ever to celebrate as usual
#loz#wind waker#legend of zelda#toon link#aryll#I wasn't gonna draw anything but then I sketched link real quick and I was like okay wait i can do this#and then my brother dragged me outside ☠ but i still got it done today!#the anniversary is today. tumblr sent me a notification like ravio is 11 years old now! ravio the character is actually 11 years old.#albw released in2013. i received two reminders this morning. ravio drawing soon maybe. coming this year definitely. maybe#arylls like big brother use a damn fork#<- that was the tag when I first started drawing them in 2018#also i noticed when I draw aryll i always draw her in her blue dress so i decided to change it up. i only play 2nd playthroughs of wind wak#r because fun fact: i hate link's green tunic and hat. i finished a first playthrough years ago with a finished nintendo gallery#and then when i want to start a new playthrough i fight ganondorf again go through the credits cry and then BAM new game no-plus#i miss link's green tunic now though. its been so long. im so sick of champions garb...............idk the green is iconic idk#im not a huge fan of it but i think his base form should be green again. with the hat. let him look doofy as a default again#he was green in echoes of wisdom but i need them to follow through after again.#i didnt finish echoes of wisdom yet (SOON IM TRYING IM STUCK I NTHE SONIC ADVENTURE 1 WEB HELP) but what I saw of Link there?#he was kinda terrifying lmao its always funny to see that link is so extremely competent because i am not. that boy efficient#im stuck in the sa1 web because everyone is always talking about how good it is. so i played the pc port and. its apparently awful idk it i#thats just what sa1 outside of emerald coast plays to me tbh. but the dreamcast is supposed to be better. and i own a dreamcast. free me#i played on gamecube too. 12 years ago. it made me sick. maybe one day i'll install some mods that make it play better#why does it feel like the month is over when its only january 6#i played sa1 as a kid btw. just emerald coast tho. ALSO I DIDNT BUY A DREAMCAST FOR THIS I ALREADY OWNED ONE
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skrunksthatwunk · 7 months ago
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actually i'm still thinking about the moral orel finale.
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he has a cross on his wall. do you know how much i think about that bc it's a lot.
a lot of stories ((auto)biographical or fictional) centering escape from abusive/fundamentalist christianity result in the lead characters leaving behind christianity entirely. and that makes complete sense! people often grow disillusioned with the associated systems and beliefs, and when it was something used to hurt them or something so inseparable from their abuse that they can't engage with it without hurting, it makes total sense that they would disengage entirely. and sometimes they just figure out that they don't really believe in god/a christian god/etc. a healthy deconstruction process can sometimes look like becoming an atheist or converting to another religion. it's all case by case. (note: i'm sure this happens with other religions as well, i'm just most familiar with christian versions of this phenomenon).
but in orel's case, his faith was one of the few things that actually brought him comfort and joy. he loved god, y'know? genuinely. and he felt loved by god and supported by him when he had no one else. and the abuses he faced were in how the people in his life twisted religion to control others, to run away from themselves, to shield them from others, etc. and often, orel's conflicts with how they acted out christianity come as a direct result of his purer understanding of god/jesus/whatever ("aren't we supposed to be like this/do that?" met with an adult's excuse for their own behavior or the fastest way they could think of to get orel to leave them alone (i.e. orel saying i thought we weren't supposed to lie? and clay saying uhhh it doesn't count if you're lying to yourself)). the little guy played catch with god instead of his dad, like.. his faith was real, and his love was real. and i think it's a good choice to have orel maintain something that was so important to him and such a grounding, comforting force in the midst of. All That Stuff Moralton Was Up To/Put Him Through. being all about jesus was not the problem, in orel's case.
and i know i'm mostly assuming that orel ended up in a healthier, less rigid version of christianity, but i feel like that's something that was hinted at a lot through the series, that that's the direction he'd go. when he meditates during the prayer bee and accepts stephanie's different way to communicate, incorporating elements of buddhism into his faith; when he has his I AM A CHURCH breakdown (removing himself from the institution and realizing he can be like,, the center of his own faith? taking a more individualistic approach? but Truly Going Through It at the same time), his acceptance (...sometimes) of those who are different from him and condemned by the adults of moralton (stephanie (lesbian icon stephanie my beloved), christina (who's like. just a slightly different form of fundie protestant from him), dr chosenberg (the jewish doctor from otherton in holy visage)). his track record on this isn't perfect, but it gets better as orel starts maturing and picking up on what an absolute shitfest moralton is. it's all ways of questioning the things he's been taught, and it makes sense that it would lead to a bigger questioning as he puts those pieces together more. anyway i think part of his growth is weeding out all the lost commandments of his upbringing and focusing on what faith means to him, and what he thinks it should mean. how he wants to see the world and how he wants to treat people and what he thinks is okay and right, and looking to religion for guidance in that, not as like. a way to justify hurting those he's afraid or resentful of, as his role models did.
he's coming to his own conclusions rather than obediently, unquestioningly taking in what others say. but he's still listening to pick out the parts that make sense to him. (edit/note: and it's his compassion and his faith that are the primary motivations for this questioning and revisal process, both of individual cases and, eventually, the final boss that is christianity.) it makes perfect sense as the conclusion to his character arc and it fits the overall approach of the show far better. it's good is what i'm saying.
and i think it's important to show that kind of ending, because that's a pretty common and equally valid result of deconstruction. and i think it cements the show's treatment of christianity as something that's often (and maybe even easily) exploited, but not something inherently bad. something that can be very positive, even. guys he even has a dog he's not afraid of loving anymore. he's not afraid of loving anyone more than jesus and i don't think it's because he loves this dog less than bartholomew (though he was probably far more desperate for healthy affection and companionship when he was younger). i think it's because he figures god would want him to love that dog. he's choosing to believe that god would want him to love and to be happy and to be kind. he's not afraid of loving in the wrong way do you know how cool that is he's taking back control he's taking back something he loves from his abusers im so normal
#i had a really big fundie snark phase a year or two ago so that's part of like. this. but im still not used to actually talking about#religious stuff so if it reads kinda awkwardly uhh forgive me orz idk#maybe it sounds dumb but i like that the message isn't 'religion is evil'. it easily could have been. but i think the show's points about#how fundie wasp culture in particular treats christianity and itself and others would be less poignant if they were like. and jesus sucks#btw >:] like. this feels more nuanced to me. i guess there's probably a way to maintain that nuance with an ultimately anti-christian#piece of media but i think it'd be like. wayy harder and it's difficult for me to imagine that bc i think a lot of it would bleed out into#the tone. + why focus on only These christians when They're All also bad? so you'd get jokes about them in general#and i think that's kinda less funny than orel and doughy screaming and running from catholics lsdkjfldksj#i think the specificity makes it more unique and compelling as comedy and as commentary. but that's just me#like moralton represents a very particular kind of christian community (namely a middle class fundie wasp nest)#you're not gonna be able to get in the weeds as much if you're laughing at/criticizing all christians. but they accomplish it so thoroughly#and WELL in morel and i think that's because it chose a smaller target it can get to dissect more intimately. anyway#moral orel#orel puppington#(OH also when i say wasp here i mean WASP the acronym. as in white anglo-saxon protestsant. in case the term's new to anyone <3)#maybe it's also relevant to say that i'm kindaaaaaaaa loosely vaguely nonspecifically christian. so there's my bias revealed#i was never raised like orel but i like to think i get some of what's going on in there y'know. in that big autistic head of his#but it's not like i can't handle anti-christian/anti-religious media/takes. i'm a big boy and also i v much get why it's out there yknow#christianity in specific has a lot of blood on its hands from its own members and from outsiders and people have a right to hate it for tha#but religion in all its forms can be positive and i appreciate the nuance. like i've said around 20 times. yeah :) <3#(<- fighting for my life to explain things even though my one job is to be the explainer)
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