#if you do either you miss important things

[okwonyo]

BABYGIRL, I GOT YOU ୨୧ right where i wanted.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗉.

𝟏𝟐𝟏𝟓𝒾──── enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

HEESEUNG

that loser loves to play videogames. it’s a known truth; his entire room is decorated around his gaming set. despite what happens with other couples, you are not bothered by his hobbies. him being so focused on his games is downright endearing and while he is busy playing, you are busy doing others things as well.

today, however, heeseung has other plans. he doesn’t let you escape from the room when he puts his headphones on. he barely lets you get even a tad away from him before his fingers are wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer to himself. you let yourself be dragged, too confused to fight back.

“don’t leave me, angel,” he grins. he makes you sit on his lap. his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you close enough to be able to put his chin on your shoulder. you are a tad too stunned to speak— mouth agape as he kisses your cheek, “you’ll be my lucky charm.”

JAY

you have him wrapped around your finger. he is too obvious about it for no one to tell. he has never tried to hide it, his growing obsession with you, his devotion to you— in fact, he is quite proud of it. you are all that runs his mind, all he ever thinks about, the only thing his eyes are fixated on.

even now, as he colleagues persist on talking about work to him—something that must be important, he supposes— he is well too focused on you coming back from adjusting your makeup in the restroom to even try to act as if he was listening. he adjust his position, smiling, watching you come closer to him.

jay’s eyes lock with yours and he feels electricity run all over his body. he taps his thighs with his hands, telling you to come sit there, he wants you close. his hands are already on your hips before you are sitting and with you hands on his shoulders, you giggle when he kisses the back of your ear. “i missed you,” he whispers.

JAKE

“jake,” you chuckle, patting your boyfriend’s head to get his attention. his embrace becomes tighter, his arms hug your waist strongly as his mumbles in your neck. you wait for him to lift up his head or at least loosen his grip on you, but he doesn’t— it makes you smile. “i’ll need to get up, eventually.”

no one has ever liked your personal space as much as jake does. he has been following you around the house the entire day and he ended up sitting down after long hours. however, he didn’t forget to drag you along with him. he pulled you onto his laps with you barely realizing it.

his nose tickles your bare skin when he turns around to kiss your neck, “but you look so pretty sitting there, my love,” his tone is whiny, needy, your heart pumps faster in your chest. “stay close to me, please.”

SUNGHOON

he walks backwards with his lips still locked with yours. it’s hard to follow him on your tippy toes, especially when he is kissing you so hard. his hands cup your face gently, yet, firmly enough to drag you along with him. he bites your lower lip and you whine. he groans against your mouth.

the back his legs hit the couch, and he lets himself sit on it. “climb on me, baby,” his says, out of breath between a kiss. you do as you are told. your knees sink into the couch, at either side of his thighs. his hands hold your hips down and set you on his lap firmly. he smiles against your lips when you run your fingers through his silky smooth hair.

you have been kissing for an eternity. so much that you don’t know what breathing feels like. your lips are swallowed and your lipstick is all over his lips— but he can’t bring himself to stop. his entire body burns for you, especially when you are well sat on his laps, with your hands gripping on his shirt for dear life.

SUNOO

he reads you like an open book. he knew it, his day was a little bit too peaceful, too calm to be true— his girlfriend always has something funny in mind. he narrows his eyes when you approach him with a dizzying pretty and sweet smile. he ignores his pulse rising up, “what do you want?”

“is that sit taken?” he doesn’t answer, too confused to not gawk at you. there is a silence that sets itself in the room. his mouth is agape, but now words get out of it. he looks at you, with narrowed eyes, as you turn around and step backwards. he is still lost when you start to sit down slowly.

he instinctively holds his hands up when you finally fall on his lap. sunoo tries to bite down a smile. his miserable fail make you laugh out loud— he concedes, “fine, i didn’t see that one coming,” he is a tad bit red in the face. “but if you want to sit on my lap so bad, you can ask normally.”

JUNGWON

he finds it endearing, how despite how angry or pouty you can get, you can never stay away from him for too long. he has all the right to make fun of you a little— in his head— because, he can say the exact same thing about himself. he is quite relieved that you accept to be in the same room as he is, although you refuse to talk to him.

he watches you walk through the leaving room. he is a bit anxious, his heart shakes in chest with mere worry as he watches you pace back and forth with your arms crossed under your chest. “princess,” you don’t answer, or at least glance at his direction. “are you really not going to talk to me?”

jungwon is a determined man. therefore he does stop calling you, but he catches one of your crosses arms as you pass by the couch. he pulls you closer to him, “c’mere,” he smiles when you let yourself be sat on his lap, still not looking at him and a bit pouty. he kisses your puckered lips gently, “i love you, okay? don’t be mad at me.”

RIKI

“let’s take pictures,” your boyfriend says after his eyes land on the photobooth a few meters away. he drags you towards it without a second thought and you let him lead you to it, not putting up a fight because you do want to take pictures of you and him together.

riki takes more than half of the seat when he gets in. and instinctively, he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close— you end up on his lap in a millisecond. “do you even have a coin?” you ask, as he hugs your waist, letting you get comfortable on your brand new seat.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he leans in, taking you with him, to put the coin in the machine. he waits until the photobooth’s countdown starts to speak again, “come closer,” he smiles. you are granted with a kiss when you do, as soon as the flash goes on.

분지 ܃ ummm ok

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist open 。

[seserakh]

none of this is real. you will end up with wet sticks and dead leaves.

edit: Yes I understand that snake plants can be rooted from leaves. The method shown in this video is not a reliable way to get them to root. You need to let the ends callous for a few days, then plant it in the right type of medium, then hope that the light and temp are with you. It can be hit or miss. I've encountered many stories of disappointment. I've seen some success too. This seems like the least likely to fail method in the video.

Orchids (phalaenopsis) do not work this way at all. An orchid without roots can sometimes be saved but not this way. You need the whole plant. The leaf in the video somehow developed a flower spike too? Lmao no way.

Lemon trees can be cloned but the method here is wrong. You need a piece that has hardened off but hasn't developed bark. For results like this he probably used growth hormone or faked it.

Bougainviellia can be propagated from a stem but it can be difficult without growth hormone. And you need to be sure you cut a stem with nodes. I've never seen the method this guy uses either. Again, root growth hormone probably came into play here.

The video is doing a classic clickbait thing of sharing info about something that is technically possible but leaving something important out. This guy is 100% using growth hormone or doing plant arts and crafts for engagement.

IG @amazinggardenideas

[clockwayswrites]

Dead on MAYn '25 Day 1: Jason meets Danny as a ghost.

cw: temporary character death, discussions of death

Danny didn’t know why any of them thought it would work. The first time had been a one in a million chance. He had lived. The one. This time, it was another of the other nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine possibilities.

He had died.

At least he had a grave this time.

Sure, it was a little surreal to be standing on the edge of it and watching the casket containing his dead body be lowered down, the sounds of sobbing friends and family around him, but he had a grave.

It was…. nice.

The fact that he didn’t really feel strongly about being dead bothered Danny a little, but that’s just the way it was. Maybe it was a ghost thing? Being half dead hadn’t bothered him too much either. It’s just… the way things were. Sure it sucked, and there were things he missed about being alive, but what could he do about it?

He had died.

The end.

Here lies Danny Fenton.

Beloved son, brother, and friend.

“No—no! Don’t put him in the ground, he’s not… he’s not dead! He’s just, he’s just… you’ll see. He’ll be back and—”

“Sam! Shut the fuck up!” Tucker snapped. He sounded angry in a way that Danny had never heard him before. “He’s dead! Jesus fucking Christ, he’s dead… and you killed him. He listened to you and now he’s dead! Why did we ever…”

Jazz wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Always the savior. “Hey, Tucker, it’s okay, come stand by us.”

But who saved her? She looked so pale all in black, like she was dead herself. Her red hair flames. Her eyes cold and empty.

“He’s not! He’s not…” Sam’s sobs turned muffled, drifted away.

Her parents were probably taking her away from the funeral, or at least towards the back of the surprisingly large crowd. Sam’s parents never did like him; he guessed that didn’t change even in death. Or maybe they just didn’t want Sam to make a scene.

Or maybe they were trying to keep her safe.

She had killed him, after all.

A little part of Danny wanted to go after her, to apologize for something that he hadn’t even done. He hadn’t tried to die. It just happened: nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine in a million. Why had that risk ever been worth it?

Was it love?

He had loved her once, he knew, in that reckless, fleeting way that only teenagers could love. Had she loved him back? Had she been unable to live without him? Had the risk been worth it?

Tucker was pressed against Jazz, their heads bowed together. Mom stood next to them, looking so small. Dad loomed, a hunched gargoyle of grief.

No.

No, the risk was never worth it.

What had she been thinking?

What had he?

“Amity Park gathers today to morn one of their own, taken too soon away from us,” Mr. Lancer started from where he stood behind the gravestone and next to the oversize photo of the Danny who once was.

Alive.

Danny slid into his gave, settled into the soft, damp earth, and closed his eyes.

-

For a time, Danny stayed in Amity Park—added another ghost to the slogan of ‘most haunted town in America’. It was hard. It was like without him, things fell apart. He’d never thought of himself as important before, but it was like he was some sort of linchpin.

At first, Danny was with his family a lot. It was home, after all. It was home with his stuff in his room that his parents wouldn’t go into and that Jazz spent too long in. Danny sat by her a lot as she held his NASA teddy bear tightly and told it about her day.

He stayed away when Jazz was with their parents. They only argued. About him. About his death. About their parents obsession to try and bring him back or talk to his ghost. Always about ghosts.

When his family argued, he visited Tucker. Tucker was different too. That laughing, vibrant guy that was Danny’s best friend was gone. This Tucker was angry and withdrawn. But Danny had to suppose that was fair. Tucker didn’t remember everything else—the before. No one but Sam did. Well, and the ghosts. All Tucker knew is that Sam had convinced Danny to walk right into his death for no reason.

It also didn’t help that a few weeks after his death, Tucker’s family started packing to move. His parents got jobs in another city. Another city in another state. It was better to be away from Amity Park and all the craziness, they had explained to Tucker. Tucker had then explained it to Danny’s grave while Danny sat silently and invisibly on the gravestone. Tucker was leaving—going to where Danny couldn’t follow.

Sam was gone too. Sent some where so that she could ��get better’.

Or be less embarrassing to her family.

Danny didn’t think too much about it. In part, because he couldn't. The longer that he was dead, the more it was like his ties to life were slipping through his grasp. He felt sad about Sam—sad and angry and confused—but it was like a stray thought that sometimes came to his attention. Mostly he felt… apathetic.

Once Tucker moved way, Danny stopped thinking about his friend too. Even Jazz and his parents stopped holding his attention as their fighting petered out. Jazz had threatened to never speak to them again if they perused trying to contact Danny’s spirit. The risk of loosing both their children proved too much their parents. Last Danny had listened to Mom and Dad talking, they were even discussing going into green energy research. That would be good.

It also meant that Danny had to leave while the portal was still hooked up. It was troublingly easy to kiss Jazz’s forehead one last time. To brush his mother’s cheek. To rest a hand on his father’s shoulder. To say goodbye.

To leave.

The swirling green of the zone felt like coming home.

-

“Phantom, must you?” Clockwork asked wearily.

“Yes, I must,” Phantom answered with as prim an accent as he could manage. He was draped over a gear, letting it slowly tick down to his inevitable fall. “Because, my timeless friend, there is nothing to do around here.”

“Pandora—”

“Is in the middle of preparing for the tournament.”

Clockwork frowned. “Ghost Writer—”

“Is reorganizing his classification system. Dorathea is busy with ruling, Frostbite is too. Undergrowth I need to let cool off… there’s nothing to do,” Phantom said.

“Have you tried talking to the new ghost your age?”

“Of course I’ve—wait what? Who?!” Phantom dropped off the gear wheel and sped over to Clockwork, spiraling around the Ancient. “A ghost my age? A new ghost? Where are they? Do you think they’d want to talk?”

“I think that the only way to find out is to go talk to him,” Clockwork said dryly. “I believe that he has been lingering around the lighthouse.”

“Lighthouse! Got it, thanks CW, bye CW!” Phantom yelled as he sped off.

The lighthouse wasn’t one of Phantom’s usual haunts, but he could get he appeal of it. Somewhere isolated, up high, and built to be safe. Phantom gave the lighthouse a wide spiral, not wanting to scare the new ghost away.

“Hello? Clockwork said you were new!” Phantom called out. He ducked to avoid the beam of the light. “Anyone home?”

“Not my home,” someone said for somewhere.

“Oh, I mean, yeah, duh, just a saying. But don’t worry! You’ll start building your haunt soon. I can even help you with that. I scoped out all the spots when I started my own recently.”

Part of the dark shadows of the lighthouse seemed to practically peel away until the other ghost was standing there. He was short—shorter than Phantom even, and seemed to vanish even when Phantom was looking right at him.

“You died recently too?” he asked.

“Yep! I guess a few months ago? Time is weird here,” Phantom said with as shrug and drifted closer. “Anyways, I’m Phantom.”

“…Robin,” the other ghost said hesitantly. “I’m Robin.”

---

AN: I have a lot of feelings about the wish episode and Danny being turned into a halfa again. (No Sam ranting though, please, everyone is dumb when they're a high schooler.) I would love to add another two parts to this--but with getting sick I've not been able to. But maybe in time? Also, CW plotting? Noooooo, never. And go visit @deadonmayn to check out all the other entries!

[luli-lads]

some confusing things from the update that i want to clarify (as a longtime player of otomes):

there is no 'endgame' love interest. they're all just as important. do you seriously think infold would risk upsetting 4/5 of the fans by making 1 the 'true' one.

one fault infold does have is that they put all the 'romantic' storylines together in the main story, but what's supposed to actually happen is that you, in your mind, separate the more intimate moments from the actual lore. for example, mc going with sylus to the arena is canon for all timelines, but her lying down in sylus' lap to get her wound treated (for example) only happens if you pursue sylus as a romantic interest, only in his timeline. i know this might seem confusing, and there's no one to blame but the devs, but that's what they want you to do. i assure you they're not trying to write mc as a man-eater either, pls don't blame my girl 😭

yes all the LIs exist at the same time. i thought we had already established this, guys

there's no correct answer (at least, yet) for 'who met mc first' and it's really annoying anyways for you to try and claim so

i shouldn't have to say this but: your enemies aren't the players. stop pitching bad bitches against each other. your enemy is infold

if i missed anything feel free to reblog and/or comment about it

[aylish91]

I know I already requested this and I'm not trying to spam I promise I forgot to put more info in my other one and I apologize for that. This is my first time requesting

If it's ok can you do a leviathantale gang x kind child reader it can be a little girl if you want, where they heard stories about the guardians and tried giving them offerings despite not having much and not having a family but when they were lost at sea cause of a storm they offered there soul to them as one last offering they could give them so they took them in as their pup like half goldfish-mer like Dream and the child forms a close bond with everyone in the gang like father/daughter and brother/sister relationship basically a lot of fluff. Cross would probably be the protective one lol

Yes! Thank you for your patience my friend! I know this took a great long while, so I really appreciate it. I hope it meets your expectations! AO3 link below!

Just a Pup

You were almost there. Skull Rock was finally in view up ahead. You just needed to leave the bay and pass the rocky barriers. You could see a few larger waves crashing against it and sending spray into the wind-swept air, but you weren’t too worried. Miss Sherren had said the weather was too choppy for the fishermen today, but there were still plenty of boats out and the waves didn’t seem that bad. Getting your boat where you wanted it to go was only a little bit harder. You would be fine as long as you got back before the others noticed you had slipped out. You didn’t want to miss the sharks on this special day.

Your mamma wouldn’t have stayed home either if she were still alive. It was the Guardians' moon tonight. It only came once a year, and you and her never missed. It was too important to her. With your bags from the market full of fish and two whole chickens to give as an offering, it would be a waste not to go and continue your tradition. It had taken you two months to save up for it. You even memorized the Prayer of Thanks, so it would be official.

You were also really excited to see your sharks again. It was fun sneaking away from the shelter to feed and talk to them. They never talked back since they were sharks, but they would sometimes swim close enough you could see their tall fins. The strange red one would sometimes swim underneath and rock the boat when you weren’t paying close enough attention. It was like a game trying to spot its flash of red before it got close enough to bump you. It had become even more fun when you had to start “borrowing” the groundskeeper's little tin boat. It wasn’t as big or sturdy as your mother’s.

A raindrop distracted you from your thoughts. Looking up, you frowned at the looming, darkening clouds. You had left with mostly open sky above you, the slowly setting sun casting pinks and oranges across the many clouds. You didn't think the sky could change that fast. Shaking your head, you continued the short distance to the opening in the barriers.

You hadn't expected the water to be that much different on the other side. The moment you tried to cross the threshold, a large wave nearly tipped your boat. It made your heart race as water splashed into you from its force. Luckily, you had been able to keep calm enough to remember to turn the front of the boat towards the bodies of water. You told yourself it was only bad because you were too close to the rocks, forcing your little float to push through what you had hoped was the worst of it. Unfortunately, the waves didn't get any smaller, they just had slightly more time between them.

Still, you carried on toward your goal.

With the steadily darkened sky, you did your best to look for the light marking the dangers of Skull Rock, but the water had gotten so rough that it would disappear entirely with each new wave. It was absolutely terrifying, but you knew your destination was now the closest thing to you. As the tears streamed down your cheeks and chin, you could only try to get to the safety you hoped was still in front of you.

You never saw the smaller rocks that surrounded it.

While you were in the trough of one of the waves, a great jolt smashed through the little boat, sending you sprawling. Now sideways, water gushed over the sides as you nearly tipped at the crest of the next wave, instead careening down to slam into the tip of another exposed rock. There was nothing you could do to save yourself or your cargo from plummeting into the cold, salty water.

Without the safety of a life jacket, your terrified screams were cut short by the forceful waves. It swirled around you, pulling you down in seemingly every direction. It was almost impossible to tell which way was up, your shoes hindering your efforts to orient yourself and find the surface. When you did manage to surface, you were almost immediately sucked back down again, spinning aimlessly as you were bashed into and cut by the rocks. You were already tired from fighting the boat, but with the lack of oxygen and the water pounding against you now, you were losing the struggle. With each new wave, your mind and hope sank deeper into the abyss, your lungs straining as your vision and limbs failed.

With one last gurgled cry, your small frame gave out to the consuming darkness and gripping pressure around you.

…

"Hold on, Pup!"

In a flash of glowing red, strong arms pulled you against a sturdy chest. With a ping, your chest burned and heaved with breath, but it was as if you were breathing through straws. Water still flowed around you as your head swam in muddled confusion. Darkness clung to your vision from lack of energy, but what little you could see was still obscure by the red glow and pressure against your eyes.

Then there was a vague flash of purple and white. "Killer what- is that—!"

"No time to explain, Criss Cross! Go get Dream!"

"But—"

"Go!"

Despite the small amount of oxygen you were getting, you desperately needed more. There just wasn't enough. Struggling as best you could, you couldn't help the panicked whimper when you couldn't get what your body needed. Somewhere in the fog was a growl and a curse in response, the jerky movements and rushing water that followed making things worse.

The red glow pulsed and flashed wildly behind tightened sockets as your savior moved, but by their increasingly heavy pants, you could tell they were also failing. By the time there were more voices, you were on the cusp of consciousness and the chest you were against sounded as if they were just as desperate as you.

"H-Horror… Dust!"

"What are you-" There was a curse, its deep rumble sending vibrations through the water. "Give them here. You'll both die at this rate!"

Killer's returning growl was rather pathetic through his labored breath, but he pushed through it to shove past whoever was closest. "No time… I'm faster."

"Not if yer dead. Don't be an idiot and let me help. Faster ain't always better."

"I'm fine…"

The next moment had you coming to an alarmingly fast stop. It was almost painful when your breath stuttered, but the next growl had you too afraid to whimper. When the angle at which you were held shifted and a larger shadow pulled at your blotchy vision, you only closed your eyes tighter, barely flinching at the rough but warm hands pulling at your upper body.

"You're not. Yer soul ain't strong enough!"

"Not like… you're much better… Just help me get to Dream. You take them now… they will drown."

"Your soul is already fraying. Mine's at least strong enough to get them there."

Killer began to growl again. "I said—"

"You're both idiots." A third voice, softer and more muted, broke through their argument like a rogue wave. Then, a completely new set of hands yanked you away from the arguing pair. However, as soon as you were free from Killer’s weakening hold, you were once again plunged into the cold, suffocating darkness of the sea.

You thrashed as much as you could trying to find the breath you once had, but whoever had you was strong and simply pressed you more firmly against the fabric on their chest. Somewhere further behind you, Killer and the second voice called over each other, but you couldn't fully make out what they were yelling in your panic. Then, a blinding flash of white and lavender gave you the first full breath of air you had desperately needed. Greedily gulping it in through garbled sobs, you succumbed to the darkness.

~~~

Your throat and chest hurt when you began to wake. The bed also felt strange. You didn't remember it ever feeling this lumpy before. It felt as if your sheets or blanket were wrinkled and wedged underneath you. It didn't help that one of the others had climbed in with you and was squishing you against the wall. Groaning, you opened your eyes to try and move into a more comfortable position.

…

You blinked in confusion at the face staring back at you from above a gray mass. Then it smiled.

"You've caused quite the commotion, Little Pup. I didn't think the shiver could get this riled up over such a small little thing."

You continued to stare in awe, convinced you were still dreaming. Resting their pearly white skull on blackened bony arms was none other than the Golden Guardian. A circlet crown adorned his head as glowing orbs of yellow lit up their sockets, gold fins flashing behind him.

He was a lot bigger than you had imagined…

Grinning ear to ear, you managed to sit up as best you could, oblivious to the stirring around you. "You're Dream! You're the Golden Guardian!" The sudden outburst had you coughing from the rough dryness of your words, but you quickly recovered enough to climb up the shifting mound to get closer. "I knew you were real! The others didn't believe me, but I knew it!”

Trying to take a step, you slip just enough to look down. To your utter surprise, instead of your legs, a beautiful tail of splotchy orange and gold fanned out below you. It wasn't as radiant as the guardian, but it still gave off a faint glow.

You gave it a few cursory flicks.

"I, I got a mermaid tail now, too! It almost looks like yours! Look!"

Dream’s smile widened the same instant a familiar voice spoke up from behind you. "Really, Pup? Going to ignore all us lowly sharks? If I remember right, we were the ones that brought ya down here~"

Jerking around, you saw another skeleton mer lying on his side. He had a crimson shark body attached to his skeletal upper half, black marks trailing down from empty sockets, and a red pulsing target floating above his chest as his hand propped up his skull. You knew he wasn’t one of the guardians, but you were practically vibrating nonetheless.

“You’re a mer! A real shark servant! My mom told me so many stories! This is so cool!”

Something in Dream’s grin shifted, the lights in his socket shuttering and dimming ever so slightly. The red mer only grinned wider, using both hands to maneuver his body to float more above yours. “Servant? Na Pup, I'm more like a bitey helper."

Your perch moved beneath you, shifting enough for you to begin to slide backwards. Looking over, you realized the mass was a much larger skeleton mer with a cracked skull and a singular red eyelight. His dorsal fin rolled upward along with his rumbling voice, causing you to slip down with a giggle.

"Don't listen to that one. Killer's more nuisance than anything. Not like us real sharks."

Chuckling, Killer ducked closer as if telling you a great secret. "Horror's just jealous I'm Boss's favorite~"

You couldn't even reply before two more mer sharks appeared above and around you to poke fun at Killer and banter. You couldn't describe the feelings bursting in your chest at the sight. You wanted to laugh and cry, reflexively rubbing away the familiar sting in your eyes as you prayed this wasn't some kind of fever dream. You laughed, listened, and watched, so engrossed in the magic around you, you were oblivious to everything else.

You wanted it to last forever. You wanted it more than anything…

Cold rivulets brushed oddly against your skin as you clung to the back of Horror, the mer stilling. Dream flinched, a grimace pulling at his teeth as he turned. "BroTHER DON'T— !"

With a squeak, you were lifted by a massive black skeletal hand. Though the grip was gentle, the upward motion was jarring against the flow of water. It forced you to hunch into yourself and pinch your eyes closed.

Dream followed in a flurry of bubbles.

"How curious." Another giant hand delicately brushed against your lower half. "And what, pray tell, do we have here?"

"Nightmare! Please be more careful, you'll damage their fins!"

Opening your eyes, you knew exactly what, or more precisely, who, had grabbed you. The Dark Guardian, Nightmare, sprawled his tentacles out and about the area surrounding the shiver, his bottom half resembling a kraken as he studied you with a cyan eyelight.

Pausing at your gaping form, Dream took a breath, staring back at Nightmare as he fidgeted. "Killer brought the pup. The shiver is quite fond of them. I… we wish to keep—"

The larger Guardian's eyelight snapped to Dream, noticeably flashing with the tilt of his head. "Absolutely not. Where is their school? Where is their gossip? You don't honestly think any of you are suited for…" Water puffed from his nasal as his eyelight briefly squeezed closed. "No. Take them back."

"Wow, Boss. Yer breakin our souls! Just look at poor Crossand Dream." Killer reminded you of a fly by the way he sped up to circle and twist around Nightmare's head. The large, mischievous grin and wink he gave you let you know he was doing it on purpose. "How can you be so cruel~ Also, pretty sure you meant po—."

Ignoring the snark, one of Nightmare's tentacles shot up to cocoon and silence the red mer, turning his focus onto his brother instead. At Dream's hesitation, he let a low, grumbling growl vibrate the water.

"Dream, you must—"

Surprisingly, it was Cross, the skeleton mer with white and red mismatched eyelights and a long purple-tinged tail, who came to your aid, little purple droplets forming on his skull.

"We can't! They, uh, they don't have one? I-I mean, they don't! Killer brought Pup down from Skull Rock. He almost turned to foam using his own soul to get them to Dream, BUT, it all worked out okay! Dust switched with him, and Dream was able to change them in time! So we can't take them back! Unless you know a way to—"

"What!?"

You startled at the loud boom in Nightmare's voice, muffled curses and panic floating up from the various sharks. Your stomach rolled from the sudden chill and anger you could physically feel. To his credit, Cross only flinched a little as he tried to save himself, but stopped when you decided to speak up.

Pushing against bone, you leaned as far forward as you could in the Guardian's grip. "Please don't be mad! It's my fault they had to save me from drowning! It's- it's the Guardian's moon. I just wanted to give thanks and leave offerings, but the waves got too big and tipped the boat. I didn't mean for everyone to get into trouble! Please, pleeeeease don't be mad at them. It really is my fault!"

There was a collective murmur from the sharks as Dream swam closer. "Nightmare, I… They…"

Your mind was reeling, begging you to try and fix what you had broken. "I know I haven't been able to bring as much as we used to. But I still have my soul! My mom said that's the best, the, the ultimate offering! And-and it's important! You can have it! Just please don't be mad anymore!"

Nightmare had to physically restrain Cross with a tentacle before he could make a nuisance of himself on your behalf, holding up his free hand to the others before they, too, made a spectacle. Once they settled, something shifted in the water, the cold giving away as if the water itself was taking a breath along with the giant.

Bright cyan met your gaze. "I commend you on your loyalty and bravery, little pup. Greater have not been so forward or offered as much under the circumstances." His eyelight glanced back at the others. "However, I do not think you are fully aware of what you offer, nor are you aware just how grievous this… situation is."

"I-I know I should have died, but I didn't. I know this is the best time of my life and, and if the last thing I do is honor everything you and everyone else have done, then it's okay!"

The silence felt heavy in the moments before Nightmare spoke, his eyelight softening with yet another sigh. "And to think, you are just a pup… Have you no thought for your mother? Your sire? Surely they are beside themselves."

"Nightmare!" Dream's grimace was hard to miss next to you, but you smiled through your pain.

"It's okay. My mom… My mom is dead. And I never met my dad, if that's what you mean. Miss Sharren and the others at the foster home are nice, but they're just waiting for someone else to adopt me, so they don't really count. And! They don't believe in any of you! I had to sneak out to get to Skull Rock."

Horror took the opportunity to swim upwards past Killer and a struggling Cross's form to be more eye level with everyone, the white tip, Dust, following cautiously behind.

"It's true. They've been coming for a while. Like to talk when they bring fish and those fat naked birds. If Killer hadn't gotten em, Cross surely would've. Don't know if you've noticed, but the kid's head over heels for em."

Dust's muted voice spoke up next, the red and blue of his eyelights pulsing beneath the hood of his tattered jacket. "How we going to explain that?" He pointed to the shimmering glow of your new tail. "Dream's enough of a target for humans and rogue mer, and he's more than capable of defending himself. Can't imagine some other pod keeping them all that safe. It's also pointless to take them back to the surface."

Nightmare grin slipped into a thin line, the bones above his eyelight somehow scrunching together. Dream Puffed, fanning out his fins. His sockets grew brighter with his growing pout. Any hesitance the golden guardian once had, vanished, replaced by a now firm resolve.

"I wish to keep them, brother. We, wish to keep them. They are mine. Made from my essence. It's not fair to send them away or ask so much of them, and you cannot deny the bond they share with the shiver." Gripping the top bony digit surrounding you, he gently tugged. "Please? Just this once?"

Cross stilled his squirming, looking up with brightened eyelights as Horror and Dust idly drifted closer. Even Killer seemed invested, head turned as much as the tentacles around him would allow as his tail swished excitedly.

Slowly, the tentacles not binding shark mers, began to twitch and roll. The grip around you loosened.

"As much as… We couldn't possibly…"

Dream pulled a little more. "We've taken on worse~"

Nightmare studied Dream closely, every once in a while exasperatedly glancing at the members of the shiver. You held your breath in anticipation, chest pounding.

Eventually, after an excruciating pause, you were finally released into the arms of Dream, Cross soon joining to fuss over both of you. Nightmare somehow sank into his mass, bringing his now free hand to rub down his face with a grumble.

"This is— Fine. Do as you wish, but you and the shiver are responsible for them. Should you fail, or I deem you unfit, they will be taken to Blue of Swap clan. Out of all of you, he is the most reliable."

With the flick of Nightmare's wrist, the water exploded in warmth as everyone cheered. You swear you could feel your own soul swell in overwhelming joy from it all. Turning, you dived deeper into Dream's embrace, your tail almost matching the Guardian's in brightness.

One by one, the others approached to slide past and ruffle your hair in congratulations. Cross, in particular, took great care to ensure Killer didn't take things too far, almost growing into a tizzy when he noticed your joyous tears mixing with the waters around you. Nightmare simply watched. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that Dream and the others gently nudged you forward, allowing you room to fully face the giant and your hopeful future.

A soft grin and bright cyan met you.

"I, too, welcome you, Pup. May you find your soul's desires among our own."

Your grin grew with the glow of your tail. For the first time since your mother had passed, you had no doubt that you would.

Grand Master Post Leviathan Master

[enki2]

I'm actually gonna start with tin pan alley for this one, because I think the popular understanding of what copyright is & how it's been used over time has gotten warped ever since it got tangled up with GAN discourse.

So, until the invention of standardized musical notation, music was a fully oral tradition. Until the invention of high-quality audio recording, you could only hear music that was performed live by someone in the room with you. Industrial capitalism happened in the gap between. So, once copyright started being applied to musical scores, the "music industry" developed -- which was initially a kind of publishing racket around songbooks. Since music still had to be performed live, the whole thing separated composers (who would get a cut of songbook royalties for sales of songbooks to performers) and performers (who would be paid for their performance by the audience or venue).

Then, with the advent of recorded music and radio, the artist became much more visible and important (especially as popular artists developed a cult of personality and used mass media to promote it). The music industry was forced to dramatically rearrange around recordings and radio broadcasts, lobbying for legal changes to suit the new circumstances. The result is a messy collection of laws that don't make much sense & industry contract boilerplate that doesn't make much sense. Since only big companies could really afford to mass-produce books or records, new laws were catered specifically to these big companies and the way they operated at the time.

When the first popular peer-to-peer music sharing software, napster, appeared in the late 90s, the author was originally trying to pitch it to the record companies as a way to eliminate costs (the idea being, you pay for a song itunes-style and then the record company allows you to download the mp3 of that song from your friend), but because none of the record companies understood his pitch, they rejected his pitch without recognizing that it was a risk to their business model -- which at the time was largely a matter of selling CDs containing a hit single and eleven mediocre filler tracks for $25. Napster and similar peer to peer software nevertheless became popular, initially on college campuses (the only place ordinary people would get high speed internet at the time).

The Record Industry Association of America, a lobbying group composed of representatives from major record companies, realized too late that they had missed the boat on napster making them money and now they were seeing copies of songs floating around that they hadn't been paid for. The last time this happened, it was because people were recording onto cassette tapes from the radio, and they did a big PR campaign to make people think recording cassette tapes off the radio is immoral, which completely failed. So this time, instead of focusing on PR, they just sued people at random, making absurdly inflated claims, in order to make it look like using napster was liable to get you jail time. This failed because by the time they started doing it, most people with an internet connection had already started using napster.

Most actual bands at the time either kept their mouth shut or supported pirates -- because if you're in a popular band, you actually aren't making much money generally, and you're usually in debt to the record company for producing your hit album due to arguably-fraudulent bookkeeping. (One of the reasons you "don't sell out" is that a record contract is often basically a scam.) The most visible exception was Metallica, who were extreme and violent in their condemnations of music pirates and their support of the RIAA's very unpopular lawsuits, saying things in interviews like "I hope everyone who downloaded our new single kills themselves". This was well into Metallica's years-long decline into mediocrity and unpopularity, so they were essentially considered a washed-up band.

So, that's the story as of about 2001.

In 2005, Youtube launches. Initially all they really did was the system to upload and view videos of a most five minutes. I don't recall any automated copyright strikes until after Google bought them a few years later. But, Metallica never gave up their extreme anti-piracy stance & would request the RIAA's assistance in suing the pants off of people.

Youtube, being a website, is subject to the DMCA safe harbor provisions. This is to say that if you have a website where users can post things (instead of just admins/site owners), you're not on the hook for copyrighted material that somebody else uploaded, as long as when you receive an email requesting you take it down in a particular way, you do so within 24 hours. (This law is influenced by an earlier court case from the early 90s about dial-in BBSes, which is I believe why the time period is 24 hours.)

The RIAA had a habit of sending hundreds or thousands of illegitimate takedown notices at once. If Youtube got a few thousand takedown notices on the same day in 2005, they would have had to shut down the site.

So, I'm not sure of the exact specifics being referenced (perhaps Metallica specifically requesting a takedown of one of their videos was the trigger for developing ContentID) but the ContentID system that youtube developed for finding things they think they might get a takedown notice for & refusing to upload them in the first place was absolutely a response to a landscape created by the RIAA and supported by Metallica in which media is locked down well in excess of legitimate legal or commercial justifications and illegitimate copyright claims are used as a political bludgeon.

[namelessknight]

I wanted to make some fun interactions of Silent Salt and the other beasts just having some fun teasing each other and what not! This is all before they were corrupted and they’re just silly little goobers.

Also just to put this here for clarity. I personally headcannon Silent Salt as non-binary and speaks through sign, they can hear but can’t really speak AND…I ship Eternal Sugar x Silent Salt so there’s a little something at the end because yes, leave me alone I want these cookies to either hold hands or THROW HANDS.

Anyways, enjoy!

Burning Spice: …

Silent Salt: …

Burning Spice: “it was an ACCIDENT.”

Silent Salt: YOU THREW A WAGON AT ME-

Burning Spice: “I WAS AIMING FOR SHADOW MILK COOKIE!!!”

Silent Salt: THAT’S RUDE! AND YOU HAVE TERRIBLE AIM!

Burning Spice: “IMMA AIM MY FIST IN YOUR FACE-“

Silent Salt: TRY NOT MISS THIS TIME!

The two proceeded to brawl while Shadow Milk watched with popcorn.

Silent Salt watched as Shadow Milk spoke gently and with such wisdom to his class filled with bright cookies. After wards, they had time alone..

Silent Salt: You speak so wonderfully.

Shadow Milk: “Awww, thank you! :]”

Silent Salt: Where the heck was that when YOU CALLED ME AND BURNING SPICE COOKIE TWERPS.

Shadow Milk: “..I mean…I was speaking the truth.”

Silent Salt: You are so lucky that there is a room full of cookies here because I would’ve thrown you in the air.

Shadow Milk: “You can do that later, Salty! >:]”

It was silent. No sounds of cookies whispers and awes, just the winds of the mountains as she looked on at the sight before her. She heard footsteps come from behind her, then stopped when beside her.

Silent Salt: Are you okay?

Mystic Flour: “I’m fine, just tired.”

Silent Salt: You can take a break.

Mystic Flour: “it’s our duty to serve the cookies.”

Silent Salt: We need to be fully rested in order to serve cookie kind. You look exhausted.

Mystic Flour: “Really, I am fine my friend.”

Silent Salt: Can you at least have tea with me? Sit with me, talk to me? Until you return to your duties?

Mystic Flour: “hmmm.”

Silent Salt: I have your favourite tea!

Mystic Flour: “…Very well…a few hours in your company will do me no harm I suppose.”

Silent Salt: Good. Now tell me about that little Haetae creature in your care, Cloud Haetae Cookie?

Mystic Flour: “Ah yes, they are quite a handful yet bring so much joy…another thing-“

They talked for hours, until the sun went down, where Mystic Flour ended up falling asleep peacefully and Silent Salt with the help of Haetae Cloud Cookie, put her to bed.

Silent Salt was looking over important reports from their commanders, checking each one making sure all was well when they felt a sudden something land on their head. They looked up to see a smiling cookie, beautiful as one can be as she flew away from the top of their head to the ground beside them. Smiling bright.

Eternal Sugar: “Found you!”

Silent Salt: Found me?

Eternal Sugar: “Yes! Found you! I wanted to see you! It’s been awhile since I have seen your face my friend!”

Silent Salt: Why that’s very sweet of you, Eternal Sugar Cookie!

Eternal Sugar: “Hehe, it’s in my name! Now how do you feel about visiting for awhile?”

Silent Salt: I would love too but I have these reports to go through. After I’m done we can visit for as long as you want!

Eternal Sugar: “Awww! Why don’t I help you?”

Silent Salt: Help me?

Eternal Sugar: “Of course! If you want me to?”

Silent Salt: I don’t know. This is a lot of reports to go through, my friend.

Eternal Sugar: “As long as I’m with you than that’s all that matters!”

Silent Salt was quietly flustered at her words, which she noticed and it made Eternal Sugar happy. Silent Salt explained what needed to be done and she did an excellent job shifting through the reports with them. Chatting, organizing and goofing around a bit as they did the work.

After they were done, it was dark out, the stars and moon twinkling in the sky as they sat there on the floor, pillows around them and Eternal Sugar exhausted from the work they did, leaned into Silent Salt’s shoulder.

Silent Salt: I’m sorry it took so long. Now you’re all tired! My apologies, Sugar.

Eternal Sugar: “No, I don’t regret it one bit. It was fun doing work with you, then again doing anything with you is fun.”

Silent Salt: You couldn’t have meant that.

Eternal Sugar: “Of course I do! I love doing anything with you! We could be watching Shadow Milk Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie fight each other and it would be fun as long as you’re there!”

Silent Salt: I mean, it’s already fun without any of us there.

Eternal Sugar: “Eh, true. But that doesn’t take away the fact is that anything with you, is my everything. Even if it’s boring as paper work.”

Silent Salt: …I love you.

Eternal Sugar: “I know, I love you too…Now lay with me, it’s nice being on the floor.”

They both smiled, holding each other’s hand as they laid on the stoney floor, content to just be in each others company. Dozing off with smiles on their face.

All seemed well. All seemed innocent. For now…

[thislanguageisunderrated]

Yeah there is a big problem with education in Romania, especially in the civics and history sectors.

I luckily grew up in a house where the right to vote was very important because people died for this. The only times I did not vote were the locals cus student in the middle of exam session core. But as part of my formation as a history student I did the module for the formation of new teachers (I'm not a teacher but I still did it).

What I saw in the system was heartbreaking. Information so outdated or so simplified it's a lie (nicăieri menționat faptul că etnogeneza românească implică mult mai multe popoare decât dacii și romanii) and no real mention of the actual state of research.

Just recently in one of my final masters courses a teacher told us that he has been studying and digging Dacian sites for 20 years and that the propaganda films from communism are so bad they don't even use the research they had at the time of making, but you can't say this in the wider society cus you'd be linched. People do not want to hear about actual history, be it good or bad. The Dacians are waaaay more interesting when you hear the newest information on them. But we don't.

I didn't learn about the Iron Guard either in highschool. I didn't understand what was up, until I got to uni. In uni things were much clearer, thanks to entire semesters being dedicated to the history of the contemporary world and contemporary Romania. I'm not specialised on this side of history but once you follow these courses I don't think you can see these people as anything more than monsters.

The school system has a big problem with the fact that there are other classes that should pick up the slack but they do not. Why do we have to teach children the history of religions when there's a religion class? Why do I have to teach the children over and over what the powers in a state are and how they manifest in Romania when there's civics classes? A lot of time is lost going over and over the same material or redunant material that important things are missed. I know people that are clueless about important world events. I don't mean "when did Ștefan cel Mare rule?", no like when the World Wars happened. Or anything of substance about politics and these people have completed hard degrees.

This is cus the system wants us stupid. It wants us uneducated. It wants us to be ignorant. Every time you have someone ridiculing you in school for being curious or for wanting to learn, it's a manifestation of this anti intellectualism and anti science wave sweeping our world. We live in a country that for 10 years had a president that ran on the "Educated Romania" platform and I cant say that my younger peers that are coming out of a mostly Iohannis led education system are educated in things that matter.

And even now, even if things are going to be invested in education and culture (doubt it because there's more pressing things and people don't give a damn about culture otherwise museums wouldn't be understaffed), we're gonna see the actual results only when today's first graders finish highschool.

All of this? All that has happened these past few months? It's the fault of poor education in the last 30 years.

Foreigners in the replies of posts regarding Romania; I regret to inform you the extremist candidate loss was not in anyway related to America's current situation.

Has Trump been brought up? Yes, but from what I've seen, in that manner at least, it was mostly in progressive circles that would have already voted just fine

This was entirely our own hubris and doing

Simion's number 1 mistake was threatening our place in EU and NATO, the two best things to have happened to this godforsaken country in ever

Simion's number 2 mistake was threatening our democracy in a country with generational trauma the likes of which westerners cannot begin to comprehend

[isfjmel-phleg]

🙄

[sounds-like-moss]

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Kids need more options. More freedom. Regardless of if parents tracking is a factor. Yes tracking is a part of it and being able to mess up or make choices your parents aren't happy with is also a part...but like. Even without, offline is less and less an option. At least an appealing one or one that seems real and viable. I saw it happening and I'm sure it's fucking worse now. Organizing seems like a pipe dream or at least something hard when you're a minor, don't have access, and physically are not somewhere you can see enough options to realize they DO in fact exist. So they sit there at this weird ass combo of aware and so out of touch at the same time. Like the world is a stage and they don't see the stage left exit. It's observe and be observed, performing all the time in this scripted stilted way but like what else is there? It's there. But it might as well be set design or a character archetype. Put on. Never off. It makes living seem mundane at best and alien/impossible at worst. I worry for them. Cults try hard...but the Government tries harder.

I should know, in my personal experience they're one in the fucking same. And they're at their worst when you're isolated and blind to the options

here's my hot take about my generation and people younger than me (I'm 22 years old)

The reason current teenagers and people in their really early 20s are conservative on accident and have such shitty takes on the internet is because our generation was much more sheltered than previous generations and because we were raised to be ok with orwellian servailence and that is 100% the fault of our parents, Reagan Era kidnapping panics, and the rise of technology all coming together to prevent us from doing the sketchy shit that sends parents into panic mode but which is also completely fundemental to childhood development. If your parents had even a crumb of money to their name and even a shred of free time they started tracking your phone as soon as it was possible to. I did not experience this because my parents are actively trying to live like it's the 1990s and still have not gotten cell phones of their own, and did not let me have one until I was 18 years old and it was no longer their choice, but literally over half of my friends in middle and high school had their phones tracked by their parents at some point or other, and we would occasionally find this out, not because their parents told them, but when we were trying to do the aforementioned sketchy shit and their parent's car would pull up. And I would, like a reasonable person after finding this out, encourage my friends to just leave their phones at home, and their response would be "What if I get kidnapped" or "My parents are just trying to keep me safe"

This in my estimation has lead to a combination of kids being terminally online because they do have internet access and are better at deleting search history than their parents think they are, but don't have the freedom to go out and do shit without their parents' knowledge or consent, so they have the most privacy from the people who control their lives while they're on the internet, and kids not having the real world experiences they should have, not knowing how to connect with other people irl, not feeling comfortable leaving the house because of the horror story lies their parents told them to make them ok with the surveillance they were inflicting on their kids. Kids these days are growing up in the fucking panopticon when they should be out in the woods playing with knives or stealing cigarettes from their older sibling and going out to an empty parking lot to smoke them or whatever and that shit is sticking with them into adulthood. Things that were "tee hee we could get in trouble isn't this so fun and daring" in the 1990s and 2000s have become in the 2010s and 2020s things that are "If I do that without texting my parents some sort of lie to excuse where my location is my parent's car will pull up and I will get grounded for the next two weeks."

Like even when I was 19 I had a 16 year old friend who would volunteer their time at a food shelf and that's how we knew each other. We would talk about dungeons and dragons together, and the game store was 4 blocks from the food shelf. One day we left the food shelf earlier than they had told their parents they would and they got punished for that. We were literally just going to look at dungeons and dragons miniatures and dice, which was self evident if you could see where we started and how far we walked and where too. I have to assume that this isn't uncommon. It's wrong, but it's not uncommon.

[starred-system]

At this point I'd be relieved if something happened in my system. The dissociating is getting really, really irritating. How long will it be just the two of us... I miss being able to switch.

[rotationalsymmetry]

I don’t know if this is what you are looking for exactly, but I enjoy writing for Postcards to Voters because they focus on non-presidential races. I am currently writing postcards against an anti-choice constitutional amendment proposition in Ohio.

I wish more people would do things like that, instead of making posts that guilt trip people for not being excited enough about voting for the Blue sexual harasser instead of the Red one.

Thank you for your highly sensible response.

I guess there's a thing where "just because someone takes 15 seconds to shoot their mouth off online about something that's annoying them doesn't mean they have the time/energy to do anything actually constructive, even more so for the people who took .5 seconds to hit reblog now on someone else's shooting their mouth of post" but I think it would be strictly better for people to spend that .5 second exerting a smidgen of self control and going "either it's actual GOTV or it's not, and if it's not I'm going to not reblog it."

And as the election is over a year away...I don't think "vote blue no matter who" is actually a Get Out The Vote action at this point in time. It's annoying enough when people do it in person but at least then there's occasionally some chance of having a reasonable discussion about it, but on social media between people who don't really know each other? Ha snowball's chance in hell.

(I haven't done Postcards to Voters the last couple years, but I did around 2019-2020 or so and they are fairly low barrier to entry as long as you have stamp money, super introvert friendly, you can be as creative or non-creative as you want to be, and as you can do it from your home on your own schedule pretty darn spoonie friendly as well. As well as covid-safe. And yes, there's a big focus on local/state campaigns, which warms my participatory democracy loving little heart.) (ughh sounds like an important campaign maybe I should pick this thing up again.)

[lanayrru]

i rly loved totk don’t get me wrong but ! imagine if the story rly set the stakes and actually committed to them, gave u the chance to actually connect with the sages - ancient ones too - only for it to be taken away to rly cement the gravity of the upheaval. pushing even further, if the roles were reversed and it was zelda on the current end trying to keep what remains of hyrule safe while link fulfills a prophecy as the first hero back in ancient times . . . just a balance of storylines and zelinks’ character arcs between botw and totk. a proper second chance for both of them that doesn’t necessarily prove their fates (and their abuser, in zelda’s case) right . . . yknow?

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[zehecatl]

okay, but the reason that works for Final Fantasy, is that each new FF is, like, an entirely new thing. new world, new characters, new mechanics and rules. like doing it for something that's connected is not going to work as flawlessly

[wardingshout]

hey guys have you ever heard about the game Star Stealing Prince? <- that's a rly cool link

sweet dreams and not so sweet dreams