#it's one of my clearest childhood memories with my siblings

[awakefor48hours]

These two just embody pure sibling dumbassery

[joyfuladorable]

⭐️ any section of I'll Be Okay! that you're itching to speak on, i am all ears, ears for days.

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

*twirls you around!!* HANNAHHH!!! 💜💜

Oh, man, so, as I made sure to point out in the Author’s Notes, this fic was inspired by This Art by my Buddy soggytommy on twt:

My writer brain was active at the time so I sat down and wrote a couple hundred words and DMed my buddy the wip, to which they responded by giving me more context about the scene: fighting the PDs, Leo accidentally blows something up, Mikey suffers the consequences.

So, the actual bts is that I Had been considering making this full angst with comfort at the end, but y’know!! I’m a sucker for levity during serious situations (which is probably why Mikey’s my fave, lol), so I tried to strike a balance there with Mikey kinda breaking the tension at multiple points, even with himself during the immediate aftermath of the explosion.

Also, I enjoy echoing/calling back to lines in my fics! The most obvious recurring one in this fic is the theme of Promises (Mikey promising he’ll be okay, Leo promising to tell him the end of the book, Mikey promising to tell someone immediately next time he gets badly injured). Don and Leo both tell each other at different points that they’ve done Enough. In Mikey’s POV, there’s Orders, with Mikey immediately following Leo’s command to Run and then later listening when he tells him to sleep. There’s also the Donnie SAINW trauma I slipped in, with both Leo and Mikey noticing he doesn’t react well upon seeing Mikey with arm injuries. Probably a few more but these are the clearest ones off the top of my head, lol!

Oh, and here are some of my favorite lines:

- “Aw, du’...” Mikey glares up at him. “Cli’ ‘angr.” << *points at my bestie* turtle who wants immediate gratification instead of suspense and probably loves to binge stories in one sitting

- A bookmark sticks out of it, tasseled with yarn and made up of layered and colorful construction paper and filled with childhood memories. A frail thing (a treasured gift) that has somehow survived all these years and unintentional moves. << *points again* baby Mikey made that :3

- The stabby thing needs to stay in his arm or else he’s off to join the Big Turtle in the Sky. << Personally the funniest joke I had Mikey think to himself next to the This Mission Blows line

- I know it’s Bad, he tells his brain as the pain whites out his vision. Stop yelling at me. I know. << *Mario falling in lava owowowow noise* if I ever actually draw this scene I apologize in advance

- Leo being up meant that they could stay up late, so Donnie would tinker or read and Raph would hog the Gameboy so Mikey would be resigned to reading comics. Sometimes, he’d slip under Leo’s blanket tent and try to read with him, asking him questions about the heroes and the villains and the story. << I wrote this Because of your (yes, You, Hannah) comment on Ch1 which made me think about Leo reading to his bros. Also, I totally drew a thing inspired by this because it’s The Most Precious Thing

- “Nope!” Mikey forces a leg to kick out of his blanket, missing Leo by a mile but sending the message loud and clear. “Y’know what? No blame game! No one wins in the blame game.” << *points for one last time* things I’ve actually done as a kid tucked in bed and a sibling says something stupid so I kicked out to let them know so

- And, he finally gets a hug from his dad, a carefully gentle thing from Splinter that he soaks in like the rays of the sun. << Actual Favorite Line that I will feel proud of til the end of time and also maybe draw at some point cuz Splinter Hug

[lauralot89]

My Mom Reviews Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

"The orangutan was my favorite. Because that's what we are, Lauren."

Context Note 1: Both of us, along with my siblings, are ginger.

Context Note 2: One of my clearest childhood memories is being at the orangutan enclosure at the zoo and the orangutan following me from the other side of the glass.

[liesmyth]

🧃, 🦷, 📚. feel better soon!! 🛌🛌🛌

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

The first (and only) time I was on a horse was on a family holiday with my parents. I was 5. My brother was 3. I got mad because HE went on the horse BEFORE ME (the eldest sibling!!) and I sulked sooo much about it that when it was my turn I didn't really want to go on the horse anymore.

My parents came out of the whole thing thinking I was scared of horses. I was like 20 when it came up in conversation with my dad and I was like ????? No???? I wasn't scared I was just jealous because you PLAYED FAVOURITES.

It's one of my clearest childhood memories to this day. I never forget when I am wronged.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Other people are NPCs in my life. I'm never going to see them again & they're probably going to forget about me when they get home tonight. This is why I'm unothered about having embarrassing conversations in public or walking into a streetlight pole or whatever... who cares! I promise that other people really don't <- girl who has 0 shame

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

Name of a bookstore I want to check out! (If you're ever in Rome, Italy: this one)

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

[personal-arson]

one of my clearest memories from childhood is when my siblings and i were home alone and my older brother decided to do the cinnamon challenge and coughed cinnamon all over the kitchen floor

[hiraya-rawr]

Matthias brainrots. I imagine him not being able to meet his biological parents or something the a family adopts him but they treat him like a servant and when they don't find any use of him anymore,they just throw him out. That's why Matthias is hesitant of calling Y/N and Diluc his parents or something bc he grew up not being able to feel any familial love and that makes him scared of receiving it cause he thinks that he's gonna be abandoned again one day

ANON ANON THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL SOMETHING. To be honest, i've read a lot of drama filled hcs for Matthias and they're all amazing but but—

Matthias under the care of rich noble as a child servant. When they find no use for him anymore, he's naturally auctioned off to other nobles (it's a little taboo but it's not a lost practice) so Diluc, being a non conventional noble with a soft spot for kids, was like 🤨 thats not how you treat a kid. I'mma give him a real childhood.

Now he's in the Ragnvindr household and he's so sure he's here as a servant, trying to clean his own plate, mop the floors, tend to the grape vines–

His new siblings aren't sure why he doesn't exactly "play" with them, he kind of just stands to the side and cleans up after them. MC and Diluc has to remind him time and time again, slowly but surely, that he's their son and that he doesn't need to serve them.

It takes a while for him to stop calling you and Diluc madame/sir/master/lady, and the first time he refers to you as a parent?? 💗🥺🥺🥺 heart melting.

//on a personal note, this kind of concept made me remember something about my childhood.. back then my nanny would bring her kid to help do chores. i remember "playing" with her while she helped with the laundry. she also taught me and my siblings a lot of street games. it's only a few years later did i realize she wasn't exactly my "play date". regardless, im extremely thankful for how colorful she made my childhood! my clearest memory of her was her putting laundry soap bubbles on my hair. sorry for the rant, a little nostalgic aahsjdbwjhs

[notbecauseofvictories]

favourite ghibli movie?

I don’t remember when I watched Spirited Away for the first time or who I was with or why I was seeing it then, but I absolutely do remember the feeling of watching Spirited Away for the first time. 

For context: I spent a lot of my childhood watching children’s movies—Disney, Bluth, animated movies that I’m half-convinced are weird fever dreams because googling hasn’t turned up anything. If it was in the children’s section at the local library, my mother checked it out and we watched it on the family van’s VHS player during long drives. (I’m one of four siblings; the only way to get us to shut up and not fight was a tape.)

The clearest memories I have from all those movies is when they gestured at something darker and vivid than I really understood at the time. I remembered the “Hellfire” scene in Hunchback of Notre Dame for years after I’d forgotten what movie it came from. I don’t remember any scene from We’re Back (brought to you by the same people as Fievel Goes West, which features another dark scene I remember with perfect clarity) except the frightening ones. Don Bluth movies take some seriously weird turns, and I know because even though I haven’t seen Thumbelina or All Dogs Go to Heaven in many years, I can summon them up in full, blinding technicolor.

Spirited Away was like an entire movie of those moments, all strung together. Chihiro’s parents were taken from her, there on screen, not benignly absent like in the other movies I had seen. There was no cheerful talking animal to leaven the seriousness of her situation; every character was vaguely malevolent, a potential threat, even the ones that helped Chirhiro. And then they stay that way, even after helping her—Zeniba and the Boiler Man remain potentially threatening, Lin is always a little distant, until he’s freed, Haku has secrets and other loyalties.

And I remember, with astonishing clarity, that feeling of being trusted with a story that was serious and real, real in a way I couldn’t necessarily comprehend but could nevertheless feel under my ribs. It’s still a feeling I get, when a piece of art really lands for me, when it finds a tender spot in my chest and burrows in. It’s still one of the best feelings I know.

Sometime later my mother brought home Castle in the Sky, but it didn’t find that same place or elicit that same feeling. I can’t remember much of anything about it.

[ganymedesclock]

Hollow Knight as a game is just unbelievably full of dads. I don’t even say that like... as a joke, it’s clear one of the major repeating themes throughout the game is the relationships between parents and their children, and this is conflated pretty directly with the relationships between gods and their creations / worshipers. There’s flawed, dysfunctional, or strained parent-child relationships, and also altruistic or compassionate ones, and both are often framed in the extreme of one party sacrificing for the other or demanding the other sacrifice for them. We also see children who feel faced with the prospect of inheriting things from their parents, regardless of the nature of that relationship.

This gets quite interesting if you read Monomon - Quirrel as a parent-child relationship, given how she appears to have set things up so Quirrel doesn’t really have an ‘inheritance’ from her, but, ultimately, he’s as unbound from the past as he ever could be once his duty is done. And the cut full script of the ‘Elegy for Hallownest’ even points to a smoking-gun reason: even if she doesn’t directly draw a parallel there to worrying for Quirrel’s future, she does talk about being able to ‘hear the cries’ of THK, their burden and agony of trying to carry the kingdom’s fate, its past, forwards- if that’s how she views THK, even becoming part of that seal herself, it’d be pretty clear why she might want to take drastic measures to avoid Quirrel ever feeling like he has to carry the past, or possibly follow her into sacrifice.

After all, in the ‘worst’ ending, another Dreamer’s child does take up that same sacrifice- Hornet becomes a Dreamer, just like Herrah, in Sealed Siblings.

Getting back to Monomon and Quirrel, it’s also interesting in how they seem to mutually care deeply about each other. The last thing we know for sure they did together was set up a protective seal- ostensibly just on Monomon, with Quirrel being the bearer of the key. This would ostensibly put him in company with a bunch of other major protagonists who are in a way serving duties given by their parents- except, while Quirrel is tasked to place a seal on Monomon, Monomon uses this exact moment to place a seal on Quirrel. 

Part of this is the physical protection of the mask, which Quirrel loses when he returns said mask to her- which, considering he comments afterwards on “feeling my age” when before that you could easily read him as fairly young for his sprightly manner and lanky build, might be that familiar fictional allegory of children outgrowing a need for their parents’ protection- not that Quirrel was a child when he began his journey, at all, but, perhaps, in a way, him giving up that comfort a bit like someone setting aside a childhood security blanket because they feel like they can’t be held back by that nostalgia- and that being the final step in him openly grieving Monomon.

But the other side of the protection is, again, Monomon severing the things that anchor Quirrel to Hallownest besides the connection between him and her, and his grief losing her, which is, again, a process, that he seems to complete with returning the mask, leaving him untethered. You don’t have to look back, you don’t have to feel obligated to this kingdom and the idea of what it was. It reminds me a bit of the end of Wind Waker- the scene where Daphnes stands in the drowned remnants of Hyrule and tells Link and Tetra, floating away from him, back to the surface- the land of the living- not to try and recreate what he had, but to move forwards and be something new.

Only with Quirrel and Monomon, it’s more poignant for the directness of the connection. “Leave my memory behind, and find new happiness.”

It ties the thread of parents and children to a whole other repeated thread about duty, which comes through clearest in the Nailsmith’s plot- in a way, Monomon’s actions seem to be in the same spirit as the choice you can make to walk away from the Nailsmith, sparing him. “Leave your duty behind and live for yourself.” And Quirrel’s in a better position than the Nailsmith, in that Quirrel doesn’t beg for sacrifice or even suggest he wants to die- at one point he can even be dream nailed musing that it’s better that he lost his memory since it lets him find new wonder in things, basically summing up his viewpoint as that one oft-memed tweet:

[book-keeper]

Thinking back I honestly can't remember my first experience with it. In all of my clearest memories, I'm already deeply into it. I guess that's hyperfixation for ya.

It was no earlier than 3rd grade and no later than 5th grade (US school system). I imagine I saw or was told about the anime and/or manga by someone in my friend groups. We all would have a chance to go to a local bookstore at least once a month and would hover in the manga section, so it's possible we found it there. Rudimentary RPing and Fanfic writing occured as well - real peak childhood stuff.

My strongest memories with the anime are beong dropped off home from school while my mom zoomed my younger sibling to a tutoring session, and watching whatever episode aired on 4Kids. YGOTAS would be discovered until at least middle school and it was one of the greatest early youtube finds for me.

I didn't start playing the card game until high school though. Friends of mine had decks of their own and I loved watching them duel in the mornings before classes started. We kept track of our life points on our TI-83 calculators. Ended up pulling together my own deck after getting gifted a bunch of cards by those same friends and I was so stoked to finally join in on my own rather than borrowing one of their decks.

College through 2021 was the lowest engagement, I guess. There were some friends I could show YGOTAS and they got a kick out of it, but life got in the way for a lot of things I cared about. It wasn't until earlier this year when a newer friend said he wanted to start the anime (he'd never seen it) and wanted to binge with me that I jumped back into it full force. And WOOF has this fixation train jumped back on to the track at full speed. I honestly don't want it to ever stop.

Okay I really wanna know how all of you got into Yu-gi-oh.

My story is kinda weird. So, it was around 4-5 years ago. I was watching an Ao Oni let's play. And I found out that different versions of this game have different plot, so I began to search more info about it. And whole doing that I always came across this one meme(You know the one, with r word in it). And I found out that this was an Yu-gi-oh Abridged quote. So I thought "I should watch it. But it will be silly if I don't know the original, I wouldn't get half on the jokes. "

And that's how I got into Yu-gi-oh, huh.

[noodlemma]

Unconventional

By: Emma Elizabeth Anderson

What or who has influenced my life the most? Well, I could tell you about how my father made a huge career change in the middle of building our family of four kids. Going to medical school at 35 with two kids and two more soon to come? Not ideal. I could also tell you about how his final career choice was to be a doctor in the Army, which sent us packing a total of five times during my elementary through high school years - from Hagerstown to Philadelphia to San Antonio to Raleigh and finally to Georgetown, Texas. But what I really want to discuss is the one thing that affected my life the most. Since I was in kindergarten, my dad has been an atheist.

Perhaps there was a time, eons ago, when humans became aware of their own mortality. Was there joy or fear at this moment of awareness? I can imagine there was fear. Is this when God was born, or is this when God revealed himself? An atheist will tell you the former is more likely, a Christian will tell you the latter is true. Either way, my father has challenged me that at the root of all behavior is choice. Choice provides freedom, but choice can also bring a burden of responsibility.

While growing up, I pondered what I was going to choose and declare to my father. At family get-togethers in Maryland, I watched my older cousins receive communion in my grandparent's Catholic church. In Philadelphia, I watched my childhood best friend and her family celebrate Hanukkah. In Hawaii, I watched my uncle and his four children pray every night before bed. I had seen it all, but it was my personal struggle to find my own spiritual path at home that would ultimately trouble me.

My natural instinct was to choose God, but with each declaration for God came more challenges from my father. Did I always have the best answer to a question? No, but the process eventually helped me understand better, not only what I believed, but why I believed it.

When I moved to Texas the summer before my sophomore year of high school, I was introduced to an amazing nondenominational church. I met some peers from my high school who seemed to have all the answers. Unlike me, they had gone to church every Sunday growing up and could recite quotes from the Bible like nobody’s business. But it wasn’t those surface-level attributes of theirs that inspired me so much, it was their kindness towards me, their thoughtfulness in all situations, and their willingness to open up to me and help me navigate the rough waters of finding my faith.

It was on a high school beach trip with my youth group to Orange Beach, Alabama that I decided to give my life to Christ and accept him as my savior. My clearest memory from that trip is closing my eyes, raising my hands (this was new for me and it honestly felt very unnatural at first), and singing worships songs. I quickly planned out in my head how I could be a vehicle of faith for my mother and three younger siblings. Was this “my calling” that everyone seemed to talk about? A few minutes later when my youth leader came and prayed over me, she prayed that I would find a way to bring Christ into my household and serve as an example of God’s grace to my family members. How in the world did she know exactly what I was just thinking? Whether that was something spiritual or not, it made me feel like I was really doing the right thing.

A few months later on April 26th I was baptized by my youth pastor in front of my entire family and all of my youth group friends. My father was proudly in attendance.

My father is an incredible, extremely intelligent man that I will admire for the rest of my life. Nothing has strengthened me more than being forced to find my own identity and fight for what I believe in from such a young age. It was difficult at times, but the moments when my father challenged my faith were often followed by moments of extreme clarity when God would reveal answers to my many questions. Although my father's tests were pushing me into a door, it was God's grace that actually opened the door. These unusual circumstances led me to discover a confidence and esteem in myself and the God that I know, no matter what others around me believe. I hope to apply these lessons I've learned in all of my future endeavors using strength in my faith and determination to overcome any obstacles that come my way.

I pray that my father will again find the loving God that he once knew as a child, but until then my mom will keep the popcorn on hand for our Friday night debates.

So maybe eons ago, that caveman did experience fear. But where did hope come from? God.

[thelifeofkaiblog]

Video Memories. Make them!

•*•*• 8th September 2019 •*•*•

My maternal grandmother (Nan) is nearly 91 and today I did something with her that I was desperate to do with my grandad before he passed away, but my mum and her sisters wouldn’t let me. I wanted to film him telling me things he remembered from his life. He had Dementia and I wanted to capture his stories, so I could remember them and his voice. Sadly, with the best of intentions, my aunts bubble wrapped him, whereas I was determined to keep his mind going.

I made a mix CD of old school jazz musicians and singers, which reminded him how to play piano(!) and got him tapping his hands and feet again. It brought life back into him, rather than him just sitting in his chair, zoning out. There is a bit of resentment from me to my aunts because they didn’t take my ideas or observations seriously, even though I spent the most time with him and supported Nan in caring for him (she was his sole carer), because I was 16 - 18 years old.

I can’t remember his voice and it’s heartbreaking. I remember his face and have lots of pictures, but I can’t remember his voice. I’ve been stubborn with needing a video of Nan. Her memory is getting a bit worse, but she doesn’t want to see a doctor about it, so we just keep her as active as we can. Mum and I are often trying to take her to new places and giving her food she doesn’t normally have, so that she keeps her brain learning and observing. She also gets several phone calls every day from me, my mum, one of my aunts and one of my cousins. A few others in our family call less frequently, but anything helps.

A few years ago, I filmed her reading from an old Enid Blyton book I have from my childhood. I’ve been asking to film a conversation about her life ever since. Something has always stopped her, so I asked Mum to sit with us at the beginning, to help put her at ease and give her a reminder if she struggles with any details.

What was only supposed to take about an hour took 3 hours! I’m honestly so happy with it. I loved hearing all of her stories and memories. I do wish I’d been able to do it with Grandad, though, because none of us know what his dad’s name was (he died when Grandad was about 14 - 17 years old).

I asked about 55 questions. As hoped for, she went into great detail and this will be a treasured video for me, but also potentially help/comfort her if her memory fades more over time. She is in brilliant “condition” for her age!

I asked:

- her full name

- her parents’ names and birth years

- her birthday

- where she was born (at home)

- her siblings’ names and ages when she was born

- her childhood address

- earliest memory

- which school she went to (she couldn’t remember)

- how old she was when WWII started

- where she was evacuated to

- what she remembers about WWII

- what her siblings’ jobs were

- what her first job was

- how old she was when WWII ended

- her clearest teenage memory after WWII

- when her dad passed away (when she was 18)

- her first boyfriend (“so impressed with him because he had a watch!”)

- her worst injury (“fell in tar at 6 years old”)

- an aunt who had 13 children (a few didn’t survive) and one of her daughters was raped as a teenager, so Nan’s ain’t raised the baby as her own and it was largely kept a secret, with Nan not being told until she was in her 20s

- how and when she met Grandad properly (same company, so knew of each other beforehand)

- their first date (funny story)

- Grandad’s best trait (“reliable”)

- Grandad’s most annoying trait (“usually unwilling to try new things”)

- her mother’s Parkinson’s

- how and when Grandad proposed (“we’d chosen the ring a week before and on my 30th birthday he jokingly said: will you let me put up with you?”)

- what their wedding was like, where and when (same church her parents got married in)

- what their honeymoon was like and where

- moving in with Grandad and his mum (hard woman) and leaving her mum behind

- what her pregnancy and birth of my mum was like

- what her pregnancy and birth of my aunts was like (traumatic)

- any trouble breastfeeding and how long she did it for

- funniest memory of my mum as a child

- hardest thing about raising children

- hardest thing about raising teenagers

- how she felt when all 3 daughters had moved out with their husbands

- how she felt about Mum getting divorced (emotionally abusive husband)

- how she felt when Mum married Dad

- does she wish she’d learnt to drive

- does she wish she’d learnt to swim

- does she wish she’d travelled abroad more

- what was her dream job (professional dress maker like her older sister)

- what job she did before being pregnant, after having children and just before she retired

- what job was her favourite

- hobbies throughout her life

- favourite colours, food, animals, etc.

I also asked her a few more bits and bobs. She was very open, which I’d hoped for. She had been anxious about it, but it was just like any guided conversation and she laughed a lot, with the occasional emotional question. It’s not perfect because the audio is annoyingly slightly out of sync for a noticeable portion of it, but I will be devastated if this video is lost someday because it’s so much better than not having anything.

Make video memories. It’s so important. It makes them so much easier to relive.

[sxltedcxramel]

12/12/12 tag game

Rules: answer 12 questions in character as an OC, ask 12 questions, & tag 12 people! 

I got tagged by the lovely @livvywrites!

Ok So I haven’t put any of my Ocs on Tumblr I wanna wait for that because this novel won’t come around til late August/September then I’ll post bits and pieces on my writing blog.

Answering as Estella Santos

Post is to long so let me spare you the scroll

1.) What teachings from your parents still affect you to this day? Do you wish that they didn’t

“Actually yeah. My mama used told me to dream small” “Don’t let your dreams get in the way of what’s important” I-I guess that's what's always stopped me from doing some things why even bother I don’t know if I-I’m any good at things or trusting people as a matter a fact but that’s not important I have to provide for my familia mostly my siblings my dad’s an alcoholic. Ugh, why am I even talking about this?”

2.) Who is the person who has made the greatest impact (good OR bad) on you, and who you are today?

 I think that might be my dad after my mom died he became different... abusive if you must. After all the abusive I’ve gone through I don’t know who I am today I have no self confidence and I push my friends away I’m not really used to talking about feelings and Estella shake her head violently “Ok I’m done with this question are we done.”

3.) If you could do anything, without strings or consequences attached, what would you do?

“I’m not sure I would like to run away from home forget about everything just leave all the chains that have been holding me back. But wishes don’t come true this is the real world. I have siblings who I can’t leave for even 5 minutes in the same room as my dad they can’t cook or do basic house chores. I’m they are only around 5 and 6 so could at that age anyway.”

4.) A genie gives you three wishes. What would you wish for?

“Wait what are the rules for genie’s again?” someone whispers in the background. “Oh ok right.”

1.) “A better life for me and my siblings.”

2.) “A decent paying job.”

3.) “I would also kill for some food too sometimes there isn’t enough food to go around so I stay hungry and give my portion.”

“I guess that all fall under number one.” She shrugged  “Right so I guess I only have one wish that I want.”

5.)When you go to pack for something—whether it be as simple as tucking items in your pocket for a normal day, or an overnight trip—what are three or so items that you couldn’t live without? 

“Damn these are really personal um lets see “My stuff bear Coco.” She mumbles 

“I’m sorry you’ll have to speak up.” 

“My stuffed bear! I’m going to kill my writer for making me do this and no you will not know anything about her.”

“My locket, and my mp3 player. O they aren’t in style anymore Ok well sue me I hate trends.

6.) Is there someone in your life you can’t live without? Who are they, and what is your relationship like?

My aunt Olivia. She my late mother’s sister she would take care of us when I wasn’t able too she really is the only person I can trust.

7.) What do you think your childhood self would think of you now? How is your life different from what you pictured then?

“Umm I think she would be embarrass to be me. When I was younger I thought I would have the perfect life but you know this don’t always go the way you expected it.”

8.) How do you feel about where you are now? About the person you are now? What, if anything, would you change about yourself?

“My confidence in myself that’s literally all I have to say for this.”

9.) What do you do to de-stress, and take your mind off of things?

“Listen to music while sketching music really brings me into another world and when I draw its really the only way I can express my feelings.”

10.) What is the most ridiculous thing that you can recall doing? Do you remember why you did it?

“when I was in 1st grade I remembered telling my classmates I was married to elmo...” Don’t ask! Estella points her finger at the interviewer

11.) If someone were to record what was happening to you, the story of your life, how would you want to be portrayed?

“What I want to be is a brave person who isn’t scared of anything but I’m not so I don’t really know how to answer this one.” 

12.) What is your ideal future life like? When all is said & done, what does peace look like to you?

“Omg I would love to live by the beach painting portraits everyday listening to music and watching the sunsets. that would be a dream.”

With all that said and done I think Ella had enough (she may or may not have almost cried)

“I did not!”

Of course not. This is literally the first piece of my little girl I’m posting on tumblr No spoilers yet she’s still a WIP along with everyone else but I’m pretty sure you can figure out bits of pieces with this Q & A.

My Questions

1.) What's one flaw about yourself do you hate the most and wish they could change? 2.) Does your personality shift when someone gets to know you well? 3.) Do you prefer time alone, or with other people?

4.)  Have you ever experienced deja vu?

5.)  What your three clearest memories?

6.)  If you could go back and speak to a younger version of yourself, what would you say?

7.) Do you have a love life?

9.)  If you could choose to have themselves born at a specific time period, which would you pick and why?

10.)  Do you feel guilty about anything in the past?

11.)  If you could erase one memory from your mind, what would it be?

12.)  What's the easiest way to annoy you?

Tags: @wordlegacy @unassumingsoda really its just @anyonewhowantstodothis I don’t know people with Oc’s

[blasphoeme]

I Love You More Than Ice Cream

It’s A Date

Chap 5/?

Chapter Summary:

Jon takes Dany on their very first date. A dinner for two under the starry sky, talks of childhood shenanigans and a relatively large revelation about Jon comes to light. How will things go? Will they have a good time? Will the night end with a sweet goodnight in a meeting of lips for the very first time? Read on my dear readers XD.

Can be read on Ao3 too. Along with the previous chaps 1, 2, 3, 4. :)

A small smile edged its way onto her lips, inch by inch, growing and growing into a huge grin as she took in the view before her. An inexplicable sense of surprise settled in her belly and blossomed into wonder. Nestled behind the bright towering neon letters displaying the word ‘diner’ was a rooftop garden.

Though the area wasn’t very spacious, pots and planters housing various flowers and herbs galore were lined up neatly in two rows starting from the metal gate and along the perimeter of the space. Spindly leafy appendages bobbed in time with the cool evening breeze. The earthy scent of dirt, picked up by the circulating air currents harmonized wonderfully with the sweet exotic aroma of plants. Creeper vines twisted their nimble bodies around the steel skeleton of the neon sign, inching all the way up the pillars, across the wooden beams of the pergola overhead. Intermingled with the leaves were fairy lights, posing as wannabe stars that twinkled faintly against the backdrop of the setting sun. In the middle of the garden sat a table, decked out for two.

Ambling slowly behind Dany with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, Jon’s eyes tracked her every move as she navigated her way through the garden. He could barely contain his joy, so thrilled to see the wide-eyed look of fascination on her face. He thanked his lucky stars for having such a supportive family who were more than ecstatic when he told them he was bringing his crush on a date. His uncle immediately pushed for them to have it at this very diner. To be more original, Arya then suggested that they modify the venue a little. Instead of eating in the diner, crammed into a booth during dinner rush, having to shout to hear each other over the crowd, why not make it a little more romantic? They’d spend the past week preparing for this moment. From the menu, to the decorations and the flower bouquet he gifted to her. Gaping at the splendour around her, at the flora with hues of every shade of the rainbow, taking it all in, Dany was in awe. Along the little path between the plants she went, she also spotted several pots of daisies sitting in a corner. Jon must have picked each flower one by one to form the bouquet for her. All around her, every plant in the garden looked healthy and strong, making her wonder just how much labour and love was poured into tending to this magical little sanctuary, hidden away from the eyes of the people on the street. 

As she neared the clearing where the table was, a flash of colour at her periphery caught her eye. Huddled amongst the miscellaneous flora was an unusual rose bush. Stopping before it, she got onto her haunches to get a closer look. Never had she seen roses of that colour nor had she smelt a scent so sweet. The blossoms, just beginning to bloom wore a hue of the bluest, clearest sky on a sunny cloudless day. Under her thumb the unmarred azure petals were of the smoothest of velvet. “You’ve never been here before now have you?” Glancing up at her date for the night, who had came to a stop by her side, Dany stated dryly: “If I did, I would’ve been trespassing on private property.” Just then, the puppy in her arms that she had almost forgotten was there, started to wiggle, whining to be let down. “You want to go explore too little guy? Okay.” Dany placed Ghost onto the concrete ground. As soon as he landed, he darted forwards in a run before turning the corner and disappearing behind the back wall like he was accustomed with the place already. Strange. “You’re here! Finally!“ Following the voice, Dany was pleasantly surprised to find a petite young woman standing by a small door that looked to be a dumbwaiter sitting in the wall. “Welcome to Lone Wolf Diner where the pack serves fries, free with every main course you order!” The girl continued, reciting the well-versed motto of her family’s diner. With a gasp and a happy heart, quick steps brought her over to the girl. Pulling her in for a big hug, Dany squealed. “Arya! It’s so good to see you again. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” “Hi! And yes it has been too long. We’ve missed hanging out with you so much.” Arya hugged her back, tightly. She liked Dany very much. Memories of nights staying up late with her siblings way pass their bed time, cuddled into Dany’s sides on the couch, gorging on snacks whilst a Disney movie played on the television were the catalysts for the fondness she held for her favourite babysitter. Plus, the woman, then teenager made really yummy treats. She’d always had a knack for it. Arya drew back from their hug, still clutching Dany’s hands in hers. Her large grey eyes were sparkling with hopeful glee. “Now that you’re dating Jon.... Maybe you’d be around more often.”

“Wait... you guys know each other?” 

“I should have told you earlier but we didn’t gotten the chance to. We’re family and Arya’s my cousin.” Moving over to the table, Jon pulled out a chair for Dany before turning to look at her expectantly with a touch of hesitance and sheepishness. He hoped she didn’t feel miffed about his identity. His family was her competition after all.

Wordlessly applauding Jon’s gallantry, Arya tugged a gawping Dany by the arm over to the table and shepherded her into her seat. “Thank you.” Dany muttered absently over her shoulder to Jon as he pushed her chair in like the gentleman he was. Once Jon was seated opposite her, Dany looked between him and Arya in complete bafflement. “Mister Stark’s your uncle? Mister Benjen has a child?” “Oh no, Jon is Auntie Lyanna’s son.” Arya commented. “Lyanna? I never knew Mister Stark had a sister.” “My mum left to explore the world when she turned twenty one with nothing but a suit case and a thirst for adventure. Long story short, she met my dad who was on vacation in Greece, fell in love and had me. She hasn’t been back here in ages because she says she has so much more to see of this world and she would only return when she’s done. They’re currently in New Zealand now.” “Auntie Lyanna is such a badass! Sometimes, we get to talk with her on the phone or even video call and she’s always in a different country every time! She’s my inspiration.” Arya gushed with complete admiration for her globe-trotting aunt. Looking to Jon, she added as forethought, “Your dad is a total badass too of course. Can’t forget him.” “Thanks.” Jon smiled, fiddling with the fork laid out for him on the table. His parents were definitely not the most conventional kind. The years of his childhood up till the age of fifteen, just before his grandparents enrolled him into the boarding school his father had attended as a child in England, were spent in foreign countries. The things he learnt about the people, the culture, all that knowledge that comes from traveling had shaped him into the man he was today. “That’s amazing. Your parents are such courageous people and you must have had such a fun childhood!” Dany couldn’t help feeling a tad bit envious. Traveling the world, visiting distant lands, soaking up all that the world had to offer? That would be the perfect life. An ambitious dream that she’d had since forever. “I hope to tick that off my bucket list one day. To leave my footprints all around the world and see everything.” “Oh.... Why don’t you guys go together? Start off with New Zealand to visit Auntie Lyanna, meet the parents and all that.” Voicing her suggestion, Arya waggled her dark brows at Dany while clapping a hand repeatedly on Jon’s shoulder. Teasing Jon alone was hardly this entertaining! The two adults before her were growing as red as the beetroots that her mother cultivated in summer. She could nearly feel the heat radiating off the two of them. I could even fry eggs on the apples of their cheeks, she thought. “All right, okay I’ll stop messing with you two now. You guys are just so adorable. Sheesh!” Arya scampered back to the dumbwaiter. “My main mission for coming up here was to inform you that your food would come straight up from the kitchen downstairs in this contraption.” Patting the shiny metal door she elaborated, “When you’re done with each course, just send the dishes back down with this button and the next course will be sent up for you.” Jon and Dany nodded at her instructions mutely, each looking down at their feet and fingers respectively, their faces aflame. Maybe just one more time wouldn’t hurt? Never one to miss a chance at letting her trickster side out, Arya didn’t even bother putting a stopper on her next ploy. “Before I go, you want to know something stinkingly cute, Dany?” “Hmm?” At the mention of her name, Dany’s head shot up to Arya from staring at her twiddling fingers lying on her lap. “This guy here?” Locking an arm around her cousin’s neck, Arya revealed to Dany something Jon probably would never for the life of him, want her to find out about. “He spent the whole morning looking at his reflection giving himself a stern pep talk on what to say, what to do and to not freak out when he goes to pick you up.” Arya was bouncing with excitement. She’d been waiting a whole week for this moment to do this. Some would say it was mean but she liked to think it was what family did, practical jokes, endless teasing and tasteful pranks of course. His embarrassment from before hadn’t even faded and now this? Jon’s jaw fell in mortification. Glancing at Dany out of the corner of his eye, the mirthful surprise dancing within her pretty purple eyes and the daintily arched brow had a further gush of heat rushing straight up to his head like the mercury line of a thermometer, forcing his face to heat up even more. Reaching around Arya, his arms flailed as he tried to stop her blabbing. He had to curb to spill of words from her mouth. His grumbles of ‘Shut up, Arya!’ did nothing to stop her, cackling ecstatically to herself, Arya’s slender fingers wound themselves tightly around Jon’s wrists. With a strong grip, developed from years of rough housing with her three brothers, she held Jon’s hands effortlessly away from her face. She was on a roll and she wasn’t going to let him stop her. “I could go on all day about how panicky he’d been since he came home from meeting you last week. This was the first time we’ve ever seen broody Jon this uncharacteristically... un-broody. Beaming like a loon while staring into space thinking about you. He couldn’t even go two sentences without mentioning your name!” “I don’t do that.... surely?” Jon uttered indignantly to himself, struggling to free his hands from Arya’s claws. “Oh yes. You sure do!” Noticing Dany’s hands clamped over her mouth and the tremor in her shoulders, filled Arya with a smug sense of accomplishment. “If you didn’t know before, this man is downright smitten with you!” The plaintive groans from the man behind her only spurred her on even more. “Naturally, we couldn’t let this chance pass him by! We all pitched in to set up this date for the both you!” The five siblings minus their eldest brother, Robb, who was busy with his job and a baby on the way, had spent the day hanging up the fairy lights, rearranging the pots and cleaning up the rooftop, making it presentable for their guest. Abruptly, she let go of Jon’s wrists causing him to fall back down into his seat, landing on his bum with an ‘oof!’.

Swapping out playfulness with sincerity, Arya took a step closer to where Dany sat. “He really, really likes you, Dany. We hope you feel the same for him too.” Taking the young girl’s hands in hers and squeezing them, Dany couldn’t deny that Arya’s revelation, knowing that he was just as anxious and happy about their date as her only made Jon all the more favourable in her eyes. Meeting the eyes of the blushing, endearing man across the table, she informed the two of them and herself out loud for the first time, “It just so happens, I like him a lot too.” There was a swooping in his tummy like a rollercoaster, free falling to the pull of gravity before shooting back up again. Jon grinned, his brown eyes squinting intensely from the push of his smile. They were trained on the dark wood of the table. Nowhere near the stunning woman he knew was watching him with her twinkling eyes. She likes him! “Aww you guys are so sweet!” Arya cheered. The man that was her favourite cousin, technically only cousin but it still counted, wore the dopiest grin she’d ever seen strung across his lips. Her favourite babysitter looked so demure, giving the man on the other side of the table bashful glances from beneath her lashes, accompanied by a red tinge on her face. Their happiness seemed to light them up from the inside out. Arya’s own smile softened into relieved one. It was evident that these two silly lovebirds were made for each other. Deciding it was time to stop bugging them, Arya coughed just loud enough to draw Jon and Dany’s mooneyes away from each other, she bid them farewell. “I’ll leave you guys alone now. Enjoy your dinner! I’ll see you around, Dany!” “It’s been great seeing you again!” Dany said, watching as the brunette girl tossed a quick wave in her direction before going around the wall that Ghost had disappeared behind. Leaning forward, she caught a glimpse of a glass sliding door slide shut, followed by the closing of a retractable folding door with wooden shutters. With Arya gone the rooftop became so quiet, save for the two people seated giggling at each other, suddenly shy again. Dany’s admission of her feelings for her date came rolling back, slamming into them both like a torrent of untameable waves. Idly tracing a line against the grain of the wooden table with his finger, Jon voiced that singular, blaring thought that had been whirling through his mind for the past few minutes: “So.... you... like me?” He looked like a young boy kicking at stones with his feet as he waited for his crush to push him away, waiting for her to decide that she didn’t want to play with him anymore because he wasn’t cool like the big kids.

Dany nodded resolutely. It was too late to turn back now, might as well take it all with her chin held high. “Yes.” She could hardly believe that she had said it right in front of his face without any hesitation at all! All this while she never told a soul save for Missandei. She hadn’t even dared to declare those feelings to herself yet! Where did that courage come from, she wondered. Heart hammering hard behind the curve of her ribs, Dany pondered at how miraculous the human body was. How was it that seeing Jon smile at her could have her feeling so peculiarly wonderful, all fuzzy and effervescent on the inside? “They say first impressions are everything. First dates even more so I think. I hadn’t come clean about my family to you before today and you had to hear all about my awkward self just now thanks to my pesky relative. You still like me?” Those wide chocolate orbs looking back at her were teeming with an open vulnerability that sent her heart lurching. He was so beautiful, how could she not adore him? “Oh, Jon. I’m very happy that you’re related to the Starks. They watched me grow up and your uncle has helped me so much with my business, I owe them a lot. Don’t be sorry for not telling me sooner. As you mentioned, we’ve haven’t had the time.” Threading her fingers with his, Dany marvelled at how perfectly their digits slid into place, hers within the gaps of his and his within hers. “And if you must know, I meant what I said. I like you and your awkward self very, very much.” “Well.... I’m immensely pleased to hear that.” Jon gave the slender fingers linked with his a light squeeze. Tenderly, his thumb began to move. “I just so happen to like you a lot too. You and your perfect self.” And he truly did. This was a long time coming confession since the moment his heart was struck down by the sight of her smile. Transfixed, Dany watched the path of Jon’s thumb as it outlined the curve between her index finger and thumb. His feather light touch stirred up a flurry of goose bumps all over her body and a need for something, something more. Subconsciously, she wriggled in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs.Expelling a tremor-laden chuckle, Dany professed, “Believe me when I say I’m not perfect. You haven’t see the side of me that’s not on a date with a handsome man yet.” “Oh. I hope you don’t mind if I stick around to find out then?” His voice adopted that hopeful lilt once more. She called him handsome. His stomach did a summersault. “I’d like that, yes. Very much actually.” She wondered if they would get to the point where they could be comfortably unglamorous around each other. The two of them lounged in front of the television, gorging on greasy pizzas or mornings where the first thing they saw of each other was messy bed head. She prayed they’d get there one day. Just then the mechanism within the little food elevator came on, producing a whirring noise, leading up to a cheery ‘ding’. The little button beside the door lit up too. Their dinner was served. 

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Reluctantly letting go of her hand, Jon went over to the dumbwaiter. Pushing the doors apart, two steaming bowls of par green soup were revealed, served on a wooden tray. A folded piece of cream-colored paper sat word side down like an erected tent in between the bowls. Lifting the tray from the metal box, Jon brought it over to their table. Careful not to spill any of the soup, he served a bowl to his eagerly awaiting date first and then himself. The tantalizing fragrance of something rich and earthy hit Dany’s nose as it wafted up into the air with the steam. “Oh... I can’t wait to try this. Looks and smells like asparagus or could it be peas? What does that note say?” Picking up the folded note, Jon’s eyes gave it a skim. “Hello young lovers...” Relishing in Dany’s tinkle of a giggle, lips twitching upwards in response, he continued, “To start off your evening, I have prepared a cream based soup that features the freshest of spring ingredients - asparagus, peas and fennel. Spring is a time for new beginnings and new relationships alike. I hope you’ll have a splendid date and may your budding romance flourish like a blossom coming to bloom under the nurturing hand of nature. Love, Ned, your chef and hopefully family in due time.” Family! Nibbling on her lower lip, a new wave of heat simmered under her skin at Ned’s pointedly written words directed at her. It was all too soon. Dare she hope to be a part of Jon’s family? Tucking an errant tendril of hair behind her ear, she begged her heart to stop pounding just enough for her to get through this dinner. Resting the paper on the table, Jon gulped, shoving the torrent of flustered nerves back into the depths of his belly. His uncle really was too much sometimes. He’d been so preoccupied with trying to make her notice him that the idea of having Dany in his life forever never even had the chance to cross his mind yet. Having her successfully look his way was a miracle in itself! One day in the future, perchance she’d have him entirely, for a long, long time. Only then, he’d consider himself, truly, the luckiest man on earth. “Umm... So... Shall we?”

“Yes. Let’s eat! Bon appétit.” 

Dunking her spoon it into her bowl, Dany swirled the dollop of cream around until it blended in with the milky, pale green, piping hot liquid goodness. The little cubes of toasted bread floated like isles in a sea of green.

Desperately needing something to calm the fluttering in her middle, she brought the spoon back up and towards her lips before taking a sip. The moan that flew out of her lips, still attached to the spoon would have made her blush if she wasn’t already ladling another spoonful of the wonderful warm soup into her mouth. It could easily be the best thing she’d ever tasted. The earthy sweet flavourful medley of asparagus, peas and fennel was strong upon her tongue, yet it left a light, refreshing aftertaste, making her want more. If tea was a hug in a mug, this soup was like consuming liquid sunshine. Before she knew it, she had reached the bottom of her bowl. Sitting across from her, Jon slurped up his soup just as speedily, just noticing how famished he was having not eaten much all day, too anxious to ingest anything but a few bites of toast that morning. Sitting back in his seat feeling satisfied, Jon smacked his lips, savouring any remnant taste of the soup in his mouth. Having eaten his food every day, he could really attest that his uncle truly was a very capable chef. Judging from Dany’s gleaming bowl, he could tell that she would thoroughly agree with him.

“Shall I send our dishes back done and move on to the main course?” “Yes please!” Already moving to place her empty bowl and used spoon back onto the tray that it came from, Dany replied, her enthusiasm palpable. Down the dishes went and up came more. This time, it was two serves of warm lasagna and a bottle of red to go with them. “Oh! I haven’t had this in ages!” The familiar fragrance of tomato, onions, garlic, minced beef and Italian herbs filled the air. “You know I used to come to the diner after school every day just to have Mister Stark’s lasagna?” “I think my uncle must have known that.” Lifting up the note that came with their food, Jon flipped it the right side up before taking in the scrawl of letters. “Ah! Yes. He said so right here.” This note was much shorter than the last, lacking in more teasing quips, thank the gods. “‘For your main course, a classic from this very diner and a favourite of a certain little lady with the purple eyes. The bottle of Merlot goes really well with the red sauce.’” The layers of pasta, meat sauce and cheese caved under the pressure of her fork like butter under the blade of a hot knife. Lifting the fork towards her mouth, pulling a string of gooey melted cheese along with it, Dany blew on the forkful hastily before popping it into her mouth. The taste was just as she remembered, transporting her instantly back to the days of her youth when she’d run over to the diner instead of going home for lunch. “My mum could never make it quite as good as his. Don’t ever tell her I said that. She’s great with numbers but she isn’t that much of a cook.” Pouring some wine into a wine glass for Dany and then tipping some into his own, Jon smiled a wistful smile. An image of the cutest little girl with silver curls and lavender eyes like a doll formed in his mind. What would it have been like to grow up with her? Would they have been good friends? Would they have found themselves in their current state much sooner? “What I wouldn’t give to meet little you. I bet you were just as wonderful as you are now.” “Mm.” Shaking her head with her mouth stuffed, Dany chewed quickly and swallowed. “Wonderful? I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll have you know that I was quite naughty as a child. Detention was my best friend in high school.” Taking a sip of his wine, Jon couldn’t help but disagree. “I find that hard to believe.” “It’s true! You see I had a bad boy jock boyfriend at the time. I used to get up to lots of silly, sometimes not so nice antics just to get myself into detention so I could be with him a little more.” A ruefully half smirk tugged at her lips from behind her wine glass. “When he dumped me after two years, a veil had lifted and I could finally see that in my strive to keep him with me the people around me got hurt.” Thumbtacks scattered upon a teacher’s chair, gum in their hair, all the notorious things that she never would have done if she were given another chance to relive her childhood. Her parents were so disappointed in her. “I did get over him eventually and the pain didn’t last for long. After that, I knew I had to change. So, I apologized to everyone I hurt and I worked hard in school. I got into college and all the rest was history. Time heals even the deepest of wounds I suppose.” ”I need to put it out there. That jackass was an idiot for leaving you.” How could anyone do that to someone like her? He would never, ever have left her. “And for what it’s worth, you were just a child then. I think we’ve all done things we aren’t too proud of as kids. Whether it was to fit in or earn the affection of someone we liked.” Giving Jon’s arm a gentle squeeze, Dany gave him a grateful smile, passing along a silent ‘thank you’. He understood her.  The chance of finding someone who you could relate to was so slim. Someone like him was rare in the world. For that, she counted herself extremely blessed.

“What I am most intrigued about now is… What, may I ask, did you do as a boy that was so shameful?“ “All I’m going to say is that it involved drunkenness, a bottle of the headmaster’s whiskey and a dare.” Dany’s eyebrow rose up high. She could venture a guess as to the outcome from all the clues he dropped and it sounded like an entertaining tale. “What happened?” “Not telling.” Batting her eyelashes coquettishly, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, Dany pleaded with him. “Tell me... please...?” This woman would be the death of him. He was sure of it. How was he to deny her anything when she looked like that? Groaning under effect of those large doe like eyes of hers, his resolve crumbled like a house of cards.“Fine. I will tell you on one condition that this stays between us and only us. No one else can know about this.” Index finger drawing a cross over her heart, Dany gave him a solemn nod in promise. “I won’t tell anyone.” Resting her forearms on the table, interlocking her fingers on the table, Dany leant forward, ready to listen to whatever sordid tale Jon had to tell. Taking a gulp of his wine, shifting to mimic Dany’s posture, Jon commenced his tale. He regaled her of a drunken night of partying, which lead to a classic game of truth or dare. Bolstered by the copious amounts of beer and spiked punch, young Jon chose to participate in a dare which required him to steal the bottle of Jameson stored in the bottom left drawer of his headmaster’s desk. Simple enough, right? How naïve he was. Just sneak in quick, pick the lock and get out. Unfortunately for him, there was a catch. He had to run from the dorms to the other side of the campus.

Naked as the day he was born. “No.... You didn’t!” “You can bet all the money in the world that I did.” There he went in the dark of night, butt naked, streaking across the campus grounds. His gaggle of drunken friends followed behind him, giggling like schoolgirls. Up the stairs they went, stopping just outside their destination. To their utmost joy, the office door was unlocked! In Jon crept, his friends waiting outside the corridor for him to emerge victorious. “There I stood without a stitch on me, clumsily fumbling with the handle of the drawer, trying so hard to pull it open. Until, it came to me that I didn’t know how to pick a lock. To make matters worse, the headmaster chose that very moment to traipse back into his office.” “Oh dear...” Dany cringed. She had an inkling of what was coming. His fellow dorm mates and friends had bailed on him once they caught sight of Mr Montgomery’s shiny baldhead. In the end, their pajama-clad headmaster caught a very exposed, totally hammered, teenage Jon standing by his desk trying to break into his finest whiskey. Shrugging as nonchalantly as he could Jon casually picked up his wine glass and swirled the maroon liquid around. “I spent two weeks on kitchen duty after and none of the boys would let me forget that night. I was pretty much a legend.” “A shameless one at that!” A bark of laughter erupted from Dany’s mouth. She was so glad that she wasn’t drinking her wine. Otherwise, it would have gone up her nose and projected everywhere. “I’m glad my plight amuses you.” Jon said appreciating how charming Dany looked succumbed to the call of full belly chortles. Her laughter filled him with veneration and pride knowing that he brought it to light. Everyone knows a good meal cannot end without dessert. For such a special occasion, Ned had created something new for them - a s’more pie. Sitting on two plates were two generously large slices. A base of crushed Graham crackers, a filling of decedent dark chocolate mousse topped with pieces of toasted marshmallows. Just as the last two courses, this final one was enjoyed and disappeared in the blink of an eye betwixt a volley of banter and a chorus of laughter. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dad! Leave the two of them alone.” Sansa laughed. Her father had his hands cupped around his eyes straining to peek through the wooden shutters at the two little lovebirds dining outside. Looking over the railing from his position a top the spiral staircase leading to the roof, Ned asked his brood: “Aren’t you curious about how things are going? My only baby sister’s son is on a date! The last time he was here he was just a wee boy of four! I was never there to see him grow up and I’ve definitely never had the chance to see him bring a girl home before.” His arms waving about animatedly and his eyes exaggeratedly wide as he sprinted back up the steps.“Oh.... I need to document every second of this fine moment for your aunt. Do they like my food?” Arya and Rickon were practically rolling on the carpet laughing at their dramatic daddy. Rolling her eyes, Sansa shook her head once more before turning back to her laptop. Rickon gave his brother, Bran’s leg a shake only to get a grunt in return. Frowning at his brother’s engrossment in his book. The fool is missing out with his nose always stuck in a book! Looking up at his father’s back, he pointed out a very obvious problem. “You’re not doing it right, daddy! The wood is blocking your eyes! You need to open the window to see.” Ned pried away one of the loose pieces of wood from the shutters with a triumphant ‘hah!’. Pressing his ear to the strip of glass revealed all he heard was muffled laughter and conversation. With his eyes cupped to erase any trace of a reflection, he could see their silhouettes in the dark pretty well thanks to the fairy lights they’d strung up. Jon and Dany seemed to be having a good time, animatedly chatting over their dessert with smiles plastered on their faces. Replacing the wooden plank in its rightful place, Ned knew Lyanna would be happy to know that her quiet son had found himself a nice girl. “Or... we could sneak a camera out there to watch them! That way you could document their interactions properly too. Why didn’t I think of this sooner! From the way they were mooning all over each other even with me standing right there, this has got to be good!” Bolting up from her sprawled position within her nest of pillows on the floor that she was sharing with Rickon, Arya’s eyes glowed with excitement. Her new prototype could finally be taken out for a trial run! “I’ll go and get it for you. I have just the thing!” “Hold on a minute, kiddo.” Ned caught his pesky daughter around her shoulders and reeled her in to him. Peering up at her father, she asked in her most innocent voice: “When did you come back down from there, daddy? You’re very quick.” Ruffling her head of raven curls that matched his own minus the odd strands of grey, Ned’s heart swelled with love. They said a parent should never have a favourite child, but he couldn’t help it. Even though he loved all his children, all five of them very much, Arya was his baby girl. “I think filming them might be a bit too intrusive. Your sister is right. Let’s give them their space to be better acquainted.” “Aww man! My miniature camera goes untested once again!” Hugging her father around his waist, she nuzzled her face into his chest and whined. Patting her hair, Ned smiled. No matter how big she got, she was still his headstrong, spirited, incredibly bright baby girl. Now, he had to make an international call to New Zealand. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With sated bellies, minds a buzz from the wine, the two budding lovers meandered along the vacant streets, hands finding each other’s in the dark. Reaching the street that would take them to Dany’s home, she huddled closer into Jon’s side, not out of fear for what loitered in the night but for the reassurance that he was truly real and to prove that the lovely evening they’d spent together truly did happen. Each step they took, dawdled a little more the closer they got to their destination. Taking pauses every few seconds to just bask in each other’s presence for a little while longer. Neither of them wanted the night to end that soon. “I’ve loved every second of this evening, Jon. Please give my compliments to the chef and I think he’d be happy to know that I may have gotten some inspiration from this wonderful meal for my next range of ice cream flavours.” “What do you have in mind?” 

Trying hard not to stumble in the dark as they made their way up the steps to her little ice cream haven, Jon couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting back to Dany. Watching every move she made, gracefully moving between the shadows of the night. The beams of moonlight painted her in an ethereal glow. Like an elven nymph dancing before him, leading him along by the hand to wherever her heart desired to go. The small hand tightly tucked within his, the warmth of her palm pressed against his was a homing beacon for all his senses to congregate to. He felt light and tingly all over. Boy, was he far gone. Not letting go of his hand, Dany stepped up onto her porch and spun around to face him. Jon now stood a step below her, gazing up at her with his deep chocolate eyes that shone with unwavering adoration under the silver light of the moon.

An adoration for her.

It was hard to fathom this happening so quickly considering they’d only just met only recently. Who was she to deny the affections of someone so genuinely sweet? Someone who was captivated by her, not just for her looks but she was inclined to believe that it was for all of her, inside and out. If Jon wanted to discover it all, discover every single thing about her? She would personally hold the door open and invite him in.  “Mmm.... I’m afraid you’ll have to swing by tomorrow and find out for yourself.” 

Any excuse, any chance to see this darling man again, she would come up with and take them all. After all, he wasn’t the only one who was paddling in the deep end of affection. He wanted to be with her and she too wanted him close, so very much. She hadn’t smiled or laughed like she had with a member of the opposite sex in so long. Every moment spent with Jon brought her to life. She wanted to learn all that she could about this man who was so quickly becoming a fixture that she wanted to create a permanent home for in her world. “Are you asking me out on a date, my lady?” “You gave me such a marvellous one tonight. Turn about is only fair. What do you say to hanging out in my kitchen and do some experiments on ice cream with me?” “I say.... experimentation with food may not be as great as a three course meal but I suppose it’d be nice.” He couldn’t help it. He had to know how this perfect woman would react should he push her buttons a little. “Hey! Are you underestimating my abilities to provide a good time? At least give a girl a chance! Ice cream making is an art that requires precision and wit, which I assume you’ve never experienced before. Here I thought it would be something fun for us to do together.” Releasing a harrumph, Dany swatted him lightly on the arm with her free hand before making a move to shake off his hand that was still clasped around hers. Chuckling, Jon tightened his hold on her hand and drew his very cute pouty-lipped date towards him. A sharp gasp escaped from her as her body collided with his. Perhaps it was the alcohol giving him a boost in confidence, his arm shot out to snake around Dany’s waist. Whether it was to keep her from falling or to usher her in closer to him, Jon really couldn’t say. The urge to have her as close to him as humanly possible was all too compelling. 

“I was merely playing with you.” The instant their bodies aligned, the air around them crackled with a certain tension that had both their hearts leaping into their mouths. “You’re coming tomorrow? This date might not to be a very romantic one nor does it go according to the list of cliché activities of what couples usually go for.” Her hands grabbed at Jon’s shoulders in seek of some semblance of balance while her heart went haywire, beating out of tempo like an un-tuned metronome. Their sudden closeness threw her, bringing forth dizziness. Jon’s broad chest rose and fell against hers, each inhale and exhale of his, pressed him to her even more. A callused thumb coasting down the curve of her cheek had a tremor zinging through her body. It felt so good that her knees could have buckled under her. A tiny whimper lodged its way up her throat.  Their lips parted without much coaxing. Just an inch closer and they would touch. Curiosity lanced with desire coiled deep within their beings. Did they dare to venture a taste? Was it all too soon to cross that boundary, to take a step in the direction of physical intimacy? Could they throw everything to the wind and give in to that temptation? “My answer to your request is, yes, I would love nothing more than to come over.” Under the spell of that irresistible magnetic pull between them, Jon inched even closer to his ladylove. No one knew what supplied him with the courage to do what he did next, but nonetheless, he brushed the tip of his nose alongside hers before running it up and down along the length of her nose, keeping his touch to a graze. “As long as we’re together, anything would be fine. What we do wouldn’t matter if I got to spend time with you. I’m sure we could find a way to amp up the romance somehow anyway.” His ticklish caresses and those affectionate, heartfelt words articulated in that husky voice of his had jolts of electricity bolting straight towards the point between her legs, at the apex where her thighs met. Dany’s toes curled within her sneakers. Oh god, what was happening to her? “I’ll be here tomorrow. How about around the time your shop closes?” Jon whispered. There was no need to speak much louder than that with her so near. So near, he could count the freckles fanning out across her cheeks.

Their lips were now a mere hair’s breadth apart. So close, that each exhalation from their lungs mingled between them. Dany’s eyes grew enthralled by the movement of Jon’s lips and his pink tongue that darted out to moisten his lips.

Just a little closer.

Embroiled in the magic of the moment, her words eluded her. All she could manage was a nod and a hum of acquiescence. That mouth of his was so pretty, unfairly pretty for a man. She had a sudden craving to know how they felt moving against hers. Would those enticing lips be smooth or would they be rough? Whether his tongue would set her body on fire, trailing down her neck or up the inside of her thighs to kiss her there? What was this man kindling in her?

Looking back on that very night, neither of them could pin point with confidence which one out of the two of them made the first move. Dany would deny vehemently that it was her and Jon would do the same when she brought it up. Back in the present, the miniscule gap keeping them apart vanished in an ever so gentle collision of lips, like the timid flutter of a butterfly’s wings. The tentative press of their closed lips lingered and their hearts lurched to a halt. Sucking in a sharp breath through their noses, their beating organs came to, riding upon the backs of a horde of stampeding rhinoceroses that rattled them both to the core. Just a sweet, delicate touch was enough to send their senses into a tizzy, lighting up every nerve ending in their bodies like the insides of a pinball machine.

Kissing each other was everything they had expected and so much more. For Jon, Dany’s lips under his were like the insides of a rosebud, soft and sweet, bringing forth a sense of possessiveness from his core. For Dany, Jon’s plaint lips were a little dry and yet still very pleasant. Combined with the steady enclosure of his arms around her holding her upright and his lips moving in what she could only describe as lovingly upon hers made her shiver. It was a shame that their physiological demand for air forced them to drag their lips unwittingly away from their lip lock. A euphoric sort of bubble held them both hostage and neither of them was eager to depart from it. So, they stood together just breathing as one, taking in some much needed air. Meeting each other’s eyes, they saw disbelief, stunned surprise and something else swimming in there. Their gazes held for moments as they watched the desire within each other’s pupils flare up and expand, pushing their irises outwards until there was just a small ring left.

He (She) had to have more, no, needed more.

They plunged headfirst, back in for more. This time, their parted lips fused seamlessly, both of them hungry for the sweetness they knew would be found within. Hesitantly still, yet fuelled by a newfound passion, their tongues met in a timid flick, kicking up a languid rhythm, relishing in the taste of the person in their arms. Their dance soon became frenzied and moans floated unbridled to the sky with each tilt of their heads. Without conscious thought, their hands began to wander, searching for an anchor at whatever they could reach. Jon’s fingers fisted at the silky locks that hung loose down Dany’s back while hers burrowed their way into the curls at the nape of his neck. Their daydreams and fantasies paled in comparison to how delicious reality was. Each slant of their mouths, each touch of their lips, stroke of their tongues brought about a hint of wine and an intoxicating flavour that was uniquely their own.

And as they broke apart, heads spinning and hearts reverberating like jackhammers within their chest cavities, Jon tipped his forehead to Dany’s. Letting out a quiet laugh under his breath, his mind fought to catch up with the rest of his body. “For a first kiss, that was...” “Fantastic? Brilliant? Magnificent?” Fingers flexing around the silky midnight curls still grasped in her hand, Dany laughed too. Her starving lungs just refused to hold air. 

Arms dropping to frame her waist, he tucked the woman he was head over heels, so very madly enamoured with securely to him. “Hands down, all of the above.” 

The night could not have been more perfect.

[missmungoe]

I think you wrote that Shanks’ father wasn’t a good dad, and your Shanks brings up his mother from time to time. Which one do you think Shanks inherited the hair color from? His father would be nice, seeing as Shanks is all about being your own person regardless of where and who you came from

Oh, I love that, and the thought of him reclaiming it for himself, since it becomes the basis for his whole pirate moniker, but I’ve also always loved the thought that he got it from his mother?

I haven’t written anything about her beyond the occasional mention in my fics, but I figured it was time to rectify that, so here’s a short little thing.

LIONHEART // Shanks-centric // Shanks x Makino // rated G

Out of all his memories of his childhood, his mother was the clearest, seeming a fixed point in his mind, curiously enduring. Other impressions weren’t as unforgettable, shifting like the push and pull of the tide, sometimes at the very front of his mind, sometimes just out of reach. But where everything else faded, scents and sounds and images worn thin by the sea of years, Shanks remembered her vividly—the red, untamed mane of her hair and the roar of her laughter.

He’d left home early, not even thirteen, although with his mother buried there hadn’t been much of a home left to keep him land-bound. And the world had taught him quickly that there was little room for children on the high seas, but he’d always found his footing easily, quick to adjust to change, and when he’d first found his sea legs he’d felt there was nothing in the world that could tip him off balance. He’d been made for this—had been born to it, conceived and shaped with the sea’s blessing, his mother’s feet steady as her stomach grew big with him, every month making her work more difficult, but she'd bit her teeth and had carried him through her duties, aboard the ship that had seen him come into the world.

You were born belowdecks, in the throes of the worst storm I can remember, she’d used to tell him, whenever he’d ask. And he’d known the story by heart, but she’d always tell it as though it was the first time; Shanks remembered how she’d pitch her voice low, and how she’d pause at certain places to build the suspense. And he remembered how her eyes would soften, a tender sadness in the weight of them that it had taken years to understand.

You were rocked to sleep by the sea, the first year of your life. I don’t think it ever left you, even after I brought you ashore.

She’d been a sailor, second mate to the captain of a trading vessel—his father, although Shanks had few memories of him, beyond the vague impression of floorboards creaking under old leather boots, and the things she’d kept of him; books, the only gifts he’d ever brought her, and their giving the only times he’d seen his mother smile at his old man.

She’d never told him why she’d left service, but he could wager a guess. The captain’s son or not, having him on board would have been deemed more trouble than he was worth. A different captain might not have minded, and there were children born and raised on ships who took their first steps with the sea underfoot and who never left it, but his mother had retired a year after he’d been born. Shanks doubted it had been an entirely voluntary dismissal, but he could imagine the alternative well enough.

His father had visited—until one day, when he’d stopped. He remembered a ship leaving port, and his mother’s hand gripping his, her anger tempered by nothing but sheer force of will, for his sake. He’d never returned, and for as long as she’d lived, she’d never forgiven him for it; as little as Shanks had understood of their marriage, he’d known that much. She’d never been the same, as though his leaving had uprooted something in her that she’d never reclaimed.

It had been a betrayal, he saw now. The things his father had denied her—her post, her crew, the sea—he’d chosen for himself. And she’d missed the sea. Like her hair, like her loud, unapologetic laugh, he remembered that—the longing for the horizon in her eyes, like a sickness of the heart. But if even his father wouldn’t have her on board, who would hire a woman with a young child in tow?

He remembered the wrongness of her, encased within the cramped walls of their cottage. It had always seemed too small for her, for how she’d been, everything about her too loud, too big, with wild roots that had never taken to the soil of their home. Nestled between the rocks on the outermost edge of the shore, it had forever been at the mercy of the sea’s changing temper, but she’d refused to settle further inland, even as the cottage had more than once threatened to come apart around them.

It reminded her of a pitching deck, she’d say, when the floorboards would sing from the storm and the sea tossing against the walls, the wind howling through the rafters, brine on its breath. Those were the memories he treasured most, when she’d dance across the slippery floor, the water dripping from the ceiling to douse the fire of her hair. And she’d be laughing, the sound louder than the storm and carrying an old shanty to accompany the whining protest of the timbers as she secured the hatch and the windows, telling of all hands on deck, and safe harbours beyond the gale. She’d never had a voice for singing, but that had never once stopped her.

His mother had been fearless—or at least she’d seemed that way to Shanks, although even through the lens of hindsight and experience, his impression of her hadn’t changed; the woman who’d lived in the breach where the sea met the shore, and who’d had the courage to always put herself last without a second’s hesitation.

Growing up, he’d often wondered why she hadn’t just left. His father had made that choice without trouble; the sea over his family, as it often was with sailors. An inevitable fate.

But his mother had been a sailor, too, and there was no excuse, Shanks knew now. You always had a choice. His father’s had just been the easiest; the coward’s way out.

He’d asked her once, why she hadn’t gone back to sea—why she hadn’t just left him like his father had, to be free to join a crew, or to make her own. He’d asked why she hadn’t chosen freedom, and she’d laughed.

You say that like it wasn’t what I did, she’d said, reaching out to brush his hair away from his face; red like hers, but nowhere near as wild. He wondered now, his own son grown and his spitting image, how much of his father had lingered with him, and if she’d found it hard looking at him sometimes.

But whatever her feelings towards his old man, whatever resentment had remained in his wake, she’d never let him feel so much as a shred of it. It was his sharpest memory—the way her hand had lingered by his cheek, the grooves and callouses in her palm left by ship’s rope and a sailor’s life, worn smooth but never forgotten, as she’d told him, simply but truthfully,

Freedom is to choose happiness, little lion.

And I chose you.

“Dad?”

Blinking, the old cottage with its uneven, singing floorboards and slanted roof disappeared, replaced with sturdy hardwood floors, with tables and chairs and shelves stacked with bottles and jars, brown and amber liquor and preserved fruits like gemstones in glass. A pirate’s trove of little, homely treasures, the most valuable of which was watching him curiously, a serving tray cradled to her chest.

“Sorry,” Shanks said, reaching for a smile. “I got lost in thought. Did I miss an order?”

The gentle amusement in the slight purse of her mouth was familiar, and, “Mom handled it,” she told him, with a glance across the room to where Makino weaved between the tables; a captain on deck, even without water underfoot.

His youngest looked back at him, delicate brows lifting with a question. “What were you thinking about?”

Shanks felt his smile soften. The noise from the bar pushed against the edge of his hearing, but there was no storm here, no wind howling through the rafters, and his mother had stopped singing half a lifetime ago.

“What it was like to be your age,” he said at length—and with an exaggerated sigh, “I know—I was young once, believe it or not.”

She curled her fingers around the tray, considering him, before remarking gently, “You were a pirate when you were my age.”

He grinned. Like her amusement, that intrigue was familiar, and like her mother, she was terrible at hiding it. “Aye,” he mused, reaching out to poke the tip of her nose, and the pale freckles dotting the delicate bridge. “Clearly, you make better choices. Safer ones, anyhow. A good thing, because I doubt my heart could take you running off to sea—your sister has been making plans since she could walk. I’d bet my remaining arm she’s already got her bags packed.” He shook his head. “You’d think the promise of a violent amputation would discourage her, if only just a little bit. What did I even lose an arm for, if not to be a living, terrifying example to keep my children away from sea kings?”

Her eyes curved at that, and she didn’t contradict his statement. Then again, her sister had never made a secret of her sea-longing, although Shanks would have recognised it even if she hadn’t been so cheerfully vocal about it. His mother had looked the same, her eyes seas away even as her heart had been anchored.

He caught the slight shift of her expression, her smile slipping, and, “Would you go out to sea again if you could?” came the query, calmly spoken despite the slight note of uncertainty in her voice (and she didn’t ask do you miss it?, perhaps because the answer was already implied, or perhaps because she understood that it didn’t answer what she really wanted to know, which was would you ever leave us for it?).

But then she was that—calm, and unshakable, the latter trait easily attributed to her mother, but Shanks had always wondered if she hadn’t gotten a little of that from him, too. Once he’d made a choice, he never wavered. And everything she represented—the island, the bar, her mother and her siblings—it all amounted to the most important choice in his life.

Across the room, a laugh rose up from the crowd. Her sister’s, the loudest he’d ever heard. Shanks caught her eye, saw the toothy flash of her smile and her dark hair, sea-shells in the thick braid that leapt like a cat’s tail wherever she turned her head. And it was strange, watching the things you’d imparted of yourself take root and grow, hair and laughter and sea-longing, even as he didn’t feel his own anymore, the memory faded and thin, like the impression of old leather boots, and his father’s ship leaving port for the last time. Other, brighter images had taken their place—the red of his youngest’s hair, and her sister’s laughter. His son’s well-thumbed books, and ink-stained fingertips. The happiest he’d ever been, holding each of them for the very first time.

He understood now why his mother had laughed when he’d asked why she didn’t just leave him, if she missed the sea.

“No, my girl,” he said, bending to kiss the crown of her head, her short hair, red like his, although there was little of the sea in their youngest; their steady-footed girl, her lion's heart moored to the island she’d been born. There was courage in that heart, Shanks knew; different from her sister’s boldness, but no less certain. She’d never waver in her choices, once made; was brave enough to make them, whatever they'd be.

And she had the freedom to make them, whatever they’d be. If there was any legacy he’d happily lay claim to, it was ensuring his children were free to chart their own course; that they were free to decide where they wanted their lives to take them. And freedom for him wasn’t the open sea, and had never been that in truth. It was choosing to leave it, and to be allowed that choice, and all that came with it.

“I’ve got all I need right here.”

[tentacleteapot]

jeez louise, you two

What was something that you used to be afraid of that you aren’t afraid of anymore?

The future. I used to be terrified by the thought of my life progressing and continuing into unknowns, but... I think I stopped being afraid of my future earlier this year, when I realized I actually like the person I have become and that I’m happy about where my life seems to be headed.

What do you believe in?

What a vague question. I believe... in my family. I believe in my friends, in altruism and serendipity and kindness (but not in allowing those things to be more important than self-preservation or happiness). I believe in a lot. Spiritually I’m... very much in flux right now, and have been for a long time. It would take way too long to unpack what my spiritual beliefs are and it’s getting late.

What would you do for those you love?

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure my loved ones are safe, protected, and cared for. I would do anything to keep my family safe and happy.

What was your childhood like?

What little of it I remember seems like it was all right. I was an annoyingly precocious child - I didn’t have a lot of friends my own age, but I read constantly and played a ton of video games and was generally a bratty know-it-all who was more interested in getting validation from the adults who would tell me how smart I was than from the children my own age I could have been hanging out with. I don’t know that my childhood was necessarily an idyllic time, but... most of the bad things that happened were way easier to handle than what other people I know have dealt with. I have no place to complain.

If you could go into the past and change anything, what would you change?

I’d probably be too worried about changing my own future. I think... there’s things I’d change for other people instead. I wish I could change it so the things that hurt my siblings and friends never happened. I wish I could just keep people from being hurt by their parents or betrayed by friends or abandoned by society in ways that a lot of them are still recovering from. I just want to keep my friends from hurting.

What’s your favorite tv show? What do you think about the effect of media on people?

My favorite tv show has almost always been LOST. As a character study it’s top-notch, as a metaphysical sci-fi exploration of everything from time travel to the afterlife (and the show does NOT end with them all being dead the whole series, thank you very much) it’s really fascinating... it’s one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. My other favorite is probably Revolutionary Girl Utena, because it really affected how I processed a lot of my past trauma as filtered through Anthy, who is literally just me as an anime character.

If you were given only one week to live, how would you spend it?

Saying goodbyes. One of my clearest memories, the one that’s affected me and stuck with me far past just about any other, is the day before one of my best friends died over a decade ago. The day before he died, he and some other friends had maybe the most fun we’d ever had as a group, running through one of my all-time favorite areas in World of Warcraft being noisy and silly and just having a blast. We were all up late the night before, and the morning afterward the last contact I ever had with that friend was just a really cute and pleasant exchange that made me smile. A few hours later he and his mother were killed by a drunk driver. Nobody gets that lucky - nobody is ever lucky enough to have one amazing last day with a loved one before they’re gone. I certainly didn’t deserve to have the last time I hung out with him be so positive and good, I’ve barely ever lost anyone. But it’s why I always hug people goodbye, I always tell people I love them, and I get mad when people and fictional characters don’t do that before they part. You never know when you’re going to lose someone. And if I knew I was about to die, I’d make damn sure everyone I care for knew how much they mean to me.

Are you excited for the future?

Yes, actually! I am now! I have so many new things to learn, and I’m still figuring out who I am and who I want to be and making my life into what I want it to be. I have so so so so so so many things to look forward to and I can’t wait for them to start.

How prepared are you for most of the situations you’re put in? How well can you handle situations, especially if they make you uncomfortable?

I’m getting better at handling uncomfortable situations. I’m always anxious when I’m unprepared, and a lot of my survival mechanisms center around predicting events or emotional behaviors and anticipating them -- knowing somebody is gonna be mad about something and that I can help with that by preemptively telling them something else, or having a plan ready when a bad thing happens. I spend most of my time trying to determine how what’s happening will affect what’s going to happen next, so I’m mentally prepared and not anxious about unseen variables.

If you had to lose a body part, which one would you choose and why?

ahahahahahahaha

Why do you like your favorite book as much as you do?

I just think it’s neat. Also I’m... honestly not sure WHAT my favorite book is anymore.

If you could go anywhere without worrying about money, where would you go? Where are some places that reality feels distorted for you?

I’d find tropical places all over the world and swim in every ocean. I’d see the lakes and lochs and rivers where people say they’ve seen monsters. I’d visit every body of water I could and see as much marine life as humanly possible. Reality doesn’t usually feel distorted for me. I guess the only place I can think of is at my old job, because I never truly felt at home or like myself that. I got to be 100% authentically the most work-appropriate version of my actual self, but I was never me.

If you could learn any new skill, what would you learn?

I wanna learn how to make my own candles. Also I’d like to learn to do makeup better. I want to be able to make myself look way nicer than I currently can.

When you were a child, what job did you want when you got older? What job do you have now? Do you like it? Why or why not? If you could have any job, what would it be?

At different times in my life I’ve wanted to be a princess, a pilot, a missionary, a dinosaur, a Power Ranger, a cartoonist, a movie director, a paleontologist, a dragon, a witch, an author, a frog, a zookeeper, a marine biologist, and a cryptozoologist. I currently work in customer service again but I actually really like my new job a lot, thanks to the work environment being largely healthy and positive and my co-workers being people I genuinely like. If I could have ANY job I’d like to be the royalty of some small, economically independent country that doesn’t resent its monarchy and actually likes me being their princess, with a council and parliament to do all the logistic stuff so I could focus on humanitarian aid/sitting around looking pretty and being spoiled. I’d also really like to be an author for a living, but that’s incredibly hard to do. Probably equally as hard as the princess thing.

How well do you protect against germs? Do you get sick often?

I used to get sick all the time. My immune system was shit at my last job because I barely slept or ate, and I was really unhealthy. I think I get sick like twice a year under normal circumstances? I have a surprisingly decent immune system for a baby born too early and with pneumonia.

What did you do for fun as a child?

Read, mostly. I also played hundreds of hours of Game Boy Advance games, mostly Golden Sun, Pokemon Sapphire, and Tactics Ogre: Knight of Lodis. I used to draw a lot too, but I’ve never been good at it.

What is your favorite holiday? Why is it your favorite? What are some good memories you have with it?

Thanksgiving! Divorced from its terrible, terrible historical context it’s just nice to have a holiday where people don’t stress about giving gifts. People eat with their loved ones and talk and just enjoy each other without a lot of societal obligations. I think it’s a lovely holiday, and I’ve never had a Thanksgiving I didn’t enjoy. I used to do childcare for my church and for like three separate Alcoholics Anonymous/Al-Anon meetings, and so one year I got invited to like three separate families’ Thanksgivings because their kids and parents both loved me. Sidenote, there’s nothing like seeing a soccer mom who’s dealt with alcoholic parents and her own drinking problems for decades go the fuck off on somebody on your behalf because she trust her kid’s life with you and some random new mom said something rude. That was a wonderful experience.

Are some lives worth more than others?

Nazi lives don’t matter, kids.

What’s your least favorite holiday? Why is it your least favorite?

I... have always had very mixed feelings about Easter. A lot of it I like - the families, the food, the idea that it’s celebratory, things like that. But getting up early for easter church and dealing with all the stress it always brought every year was... never fun. 

Do you believe in a higher power?

This one is... super vaguely phrased. Yes, I do, but I don’t know yet how to quantify that higher power or what my relationship and connection to it is. I might never know. We’ll see.

Have you ever been told something you didn’t want to be/gotten news you didn’t want to?

Everybody has, is the thing. Traditionally I’m not great with sudden change, so whenever somebody suddenly dumbs a big disaster on me I don’t handle it well until I’ve had a chance to adjust and make some plans to deal with it. 

If you were in the zombie apocalypse/alien invasion, would you hide and if so where would you hide? What group of people would you want with you through this?

I would probably hide and it would be a bad idea, because I’d end up either getting myself killed to save a bunch of people or naively trusting the wrong group and having them turn on me. I would not last long at ALL during a zombie apocalypse.

What is your favorite thing to wear?

Right now my all-time favorite outfit is my lacy blouse with the long sleeves and the skull on the back, with my poofy skirt with pockets and my nice new boots. I look like an adorable anime witch in that outfit and it makes me so happy.

Have you ever been convinced that your house is haunted or that a ghost or other villain was after you?

Honestly, no. I’m not 100% sure if I’ve ever been to a place that was haunted, though I’ve definitely been to houses and in buildings with some very weird vibes, but I’ve never lived in a haunted house. Every home I’ve ever lived in has always had a very comfortable and safe energy to it.

Do you believe in the supernatural?

Specificity, please! Yes, of course I do, but... sheesh. Give me something to unpack here.

Who is someone you look up to and why?

I look up to anyone with a wide knowledge base or with a lot of specific knowledge about things I don’t know. Anybody who’s got information I don’t is worth listening to and learning from, so anybody who knows more than I do always ends up being somebody I really look up to and respect.

What’s your relationship with your parents?

It’s... good. It hasn’t always been. But right now I feel like it’s getting to a better, safer, nicer state again and I’m hoping it actually stays that way this time.

[heidiaref]

Assignment 5: Photo Series

Idea Description:

The Things That Were Fun

Inspired by collections like Alessandra Sanguinett’s Home (2017) and Nicholas Nixon’s series (Forty Pictures in Forty Years, 1975 - 2014), I decided to create a final project that took a look at my life and served to chronicle the years I have lived in a fun and creative way.

In this photography series, I take pictures of various items that evoke nostalgia and remind me of when I was younger. As with anyone over the years, my hobbies changed; sometimes they were adapted to different technologies. Sometimes they were lost to childhood. Regardless, each activity displayed is one that has taken firm root in my memory.

Through these photos, I take a look at things that I used to do that were fun, starting with the most recent activity that fell into decline in my life (playing Magic: The Gathering with physical cards) and going all the way back to the first things I remember doing as a kid (playing with cute dolls).

While I was creating it I hoped to explore the things I used to do as well as take a guess at some childhood experiences I might have shared with others. Was I the only one to make a mess of my mother’s hand lotions in an attempt to make something unique of my own? Or to go to town with NERF guns with my siblings? Or even to spend so much time on now-obsolete handheld game consoles? 

In making this series, I also wanted to use various lightings, angles, and set-ups to convey the clearest meaning with the smallest amount of description. I especially took liberties with color and soft lighting in order to better create a kind of nostalgic and comfy atmosphere around the various photos.

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Photo 1: “Ah yes, the physical trading cards of my teen years. How fun you were before the rise of TCG Online...”

Photo 2: “Reading is a hobby that never dies! But the last time I got a physical book, I think I was 15. Anyone else miss that new book smell?”

Photo 3: “Before we had first-person shooter games, we were the NERF gunmen! Nothing says ‘sibling bonding’ at 13-years-old like foam darts to the face.”

Photo 4: “Instead of a keyboard beneath my fingers, I used to have a pencil in my hand. What better way to occupy a 10-year-old kid than to write and doodle nonsensically?”

Photo 5: “I got my first Nintendo console when I was 8, but no matter how much time passes, whenever I look at these I can still hear the opening chime.”

Photo 6: “At 6, I would ‘create’ hand lotions by stealing and mixing all my mom’s creams to create a floral-scented abomination. Ah, I was such a bored child before common technologies...”

Photo 7: “But that didn’t mean I didn’t have VHS! Even 13 years later, I see the tape and think: I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream...”

Photo 8: “At 3-years-old my life was a world of dolls. At some point I must give them away, but as for now, I cherish all one hundred and twenty-three - even if I don’t play house so much anymore, the fun never goes out of them!”