#like i get More fixated on my special interests now. i can think about something for hours straight instead of getting guilty and thinking

[catmask]

it is insane how normal i am medicated like. you mean this was an option the whole time. what

[rvsehrts]

YOOOOOO I LOVED YOUR FIC OF "Twst Housewardens as animals", will there be any part for the vices? :0 If so, I will be faithfully waiting for it to arrive, remember to drink water and don't torment yourself if you don't have ideas, they will arrive on their own :D

-🔮 anon

YES OFC (and OMHAGAGA yayaya I have anxew anon(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠))

𝘛𝘞𝘚𝘛 𝘝𝘐𝘊𝘌 𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘌𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘚 𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘐𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘚 ᨶᯃྀི✿

𓊆ྀི notes . . . first twst rq yippee! Also so sorry for the very long wait!!:( putting rook first because why not + PLEASE SENT TWST REQUESTS I AM WILLING TO SELL MY SOUL FOR THEM

𓊆ྀི currently listening to . . . You are my music by hi - posi

𓊆ྀི characters . . . Rook hunt , jamil viper , lilia vanrouge , trey clover , ruggie bucchi , jade + Floyd leech ( not adding ortho since idk how to write for him )

ROOK HUNT . . . as a afghan hound

- your dog who's literally fascinated by everything he lays his eyes upon! he truly seeks the beauty in every part of life, but sometimes you need to keep him in control whenever he is interested in something or someone because he won't stop bothering them! However he gets sad whenever you do that so please give him headpats to soothe his poor heart. But the most terrifying incidents that happened which included him is the times you woke up in the dawn of night,thinking someone is watching you when it's really just your furry bestfriend, big eyes staring into your soul.

JAMIL VIPER . . . as a cobra

- your extremely selfless snake who is sometimes hard to read sometimes , hes most of the times calm and reserved in his terrarium, he appreciates affection but not too much, specially on public when he's infront of his golden retriever friend, who goes by the name kalim because he knows kalim will talk his ear off about how sweet and loving his owner is! and whenever he gets the chance to showcase his tricks that you taught him,he will back down and hiss in response which indicates a immediate rejection. you really don't know why your viper acts like this.

LILIA VANROUGE . . . as a fruit bat

- ah yes your cheeky and "friendly" bat who loves to scare you on purpose by either appearing hanging upside down on the most random times to startle you. I mean you can't really blame him can you? It's fun plus seeing your reaction makes it even merrier for him! But he can be a serious bat sometimes, which is shocking to say atleast. He once poured a whole bag of salt inside the soup you were cooking,tarnishing the taste completely. You swear he was grinning when he saw you taste the soup and scrunch up your face in disgust. To him it was the best soup ever! He is the best cook ever known to batkind! Or faekind.

TREY CLOVER . . . as a hamster

- your extremely helpful and laid back hamster who always is there for you whenever you need something, TREY is like jamil in way , always calm and reserved , he also has a strange fixation on making you take care of his dental hygiene at all times and always forces you to take care of yours too! he also always watches you bake and hands you ingredients he thinks the recipe needs to elevate it more , and it really does help.

RUGGIE BUCCHI . . . as a hyena (well no shit)

- your sneaky and clever hyena who is troublesome at times , not letting you eat in peace unless you give him some of your food to him to feast on. Even if you don't give it to him he will just ran up to you as fast as he can and steal it right from your hands ( lovingly ) , he loves getting spoiled with both affection and gifts given by you , happy noises leaving his mouth as you rub his head (in the middle of his ears) , which indicates he's happy ! I mean he's always happy with his owner. ( Well not when your not sharing your snacks with him, he has one sided beef with you now until you feed him something nice. )

JADE LEECH . . . as a moray eel ( who could have guessed ong )

- when you first adopted him alongside with Floyd , he put up a fake persona where he was just a kind and soft eel unlike Floyd who was causing chaos everywhere , and then later you started to find out that he's actually a pretty devious eel , just like his twin brother. whenever you held him he had a tight grip on you , if you tried to pull him out of your hold he would bite lightly , enough for some crimson drops of arterial blood to come out when all Floyd did was just squeeze your hand. But both of them could be helpful and smart at times surprisingly, scaring off any people they find suspicious or people you hate.

[thespiderwhisperer]

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL BAT APPRECIATION DAY!!!!!!!

ive kinda been lagging behind on posting, like, actual content/art but yall get the extra-special grim art for today now lol

woe, color wheel challenge masters be upon ye!!

i started this back in september, soon after i started playing FL, and worked on it for a few months till i ended up submitting it as a school assignment to give me the motivation to finish it dhxbh

since theres. a lot going on here ill give yall a handy dandy little list of who's who lmao:

red: mr hearts/apples- common vampire bat. holding the cleaver.

mr c_____s [SMEN Spoilers]- little golden mantled flying fox. holding the candles.

orange: mr fires- painted bat. angy dieselpunk-y guy.

mr cups- canyon bat (has since been changed to ghost-faced bat). came in 15 mins late with neathbucks coffee.

yellow: mr pages- hoary bat. currently writing a new dictionary on the scroll.

mr spices- mexican long-tongued bat. blep.

green: mr veils- spectral bat. angy grinch beast.

light blue: mr mirrors- ghost bat. staring into your soul.

mr iron- hammerhead/hanner-headed bat. wearing diamond armor for +10 defense.

dark blue: mr stones- cave nectar bat/dawn bat. is way too close to these plebians.

mr eaten- barbastelle bat. dead both inside AND outside!!

purple: surprise oc cameo!! mr vials, aka the master that asher turns into after his ambition- ozark big-eared bat. can hear you falsifying compendiums of statistical observations.

mr chimes- no specific bat species because. well. if you know you know i guess. carrying its lantern from the grand clearing-out!!

pink: mr wines- giant golden-crowned flying fox. spilling its drink and also blep-ing.

mr t_______t [Railway Spoilers]: no specific bat species; they're just baby, your honor. also blep, runs in the family i guess

-

i think thats it theres probably something ive forgotten about xd. this silly little browser game officially gave me a special interest in bats so im. throwing my autism at yall now via art form ig lmao. nowadays im more fixated on my human blorbos but the master obsession is still. simmering. in the background. awaiting a reckoning that will not be postponed indefinitely or smthn idk

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

I've recently rejoined the creepypasta fandom after like years of hiatus, and my favorite still stands as EJ!! and I've been reading so much content, and your hcs are just * chef's kiss *

I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing hcs for a med student!reader with EJ?

Hope you have a wonderful day/night!!

Love love love!!!! I did a little Drabble and then some headcanons

♱ ⛧Eyeless Jack x med student! Reader ⛧♱

The first time he met you he was hooked. You were so fascinated by his existence, the medical anomaly you had just discovered. You stared at him with wide eyes, but unlike usual they weren’t filled with fear, like everyone else’s. No, yours were filled with awe.

You leaned in close, almost tempted to touch him, already having asked him a plethora of questions. “And you can still see? Amazing…. I mean you don’t have a retina so, no optic nerve either but….” You were so fascinated by him, your eyes fully fixated.

“My sight… isn’t how it was before.” He was sheepish. Jack knew he was a monster. Having you this close and staring wasn’t something he was used to. He usually hid behind his mask.

“Ah… can you describe what it’s like? It’s just amazing really.” You leaned in a little too close, your face inches from his, your hand on his face. If his ashen skin could go red, it would have right now.

Noticing his embarrassment you back away, “Sorry! You probably don’t like being told you’re interesting.”

“No, it’s okay…” he trailed off, wanting to finish with “when you say it.”

”But I should put these away. It’s off putting…” he reached for his mask, only to be stopped by your hand.

“No, I…. I honestly love looking at you. You don’t have to put that on. Unless it makes you more comfortable…”

For the first time ever, he felt like he was more comfortable without it, not wanting to hide away from you. He’s been with you ever since.

𖤐 one of my headcanons for Jack is that he was a med student before the ritual (which is so sad like he did so much work rip)

𖤐he helps you with anatomy (he’s an expert)

𖤐 understands how busy you are and really does anything he can to take stress off you

𖤐 like he’ll do your laundry, pack your lunch, clean your house

𖤐 lets you practice physical exams on him and will show you how to do it if you’re doing it incorrectly

𖤐You still ask him a plethora of questions about his existence

𖤐You once asked if his nails grew sharp like that and if it hurt to cut them

𖤐He could cut them, but never bothered to since he looked like a monster anyways

𖤐After you said something he started cutting them especially since he started thinking of certain activities he wanted to do with you

𖤐You’re so intrigued by his teeth and he just melts whenever you want to poke them

𖤐But generally he truly enjoys how interested you are in him, it reminds him of himself when he was a student

𖤐teaches you how to properly use a scalpel and how to suture so you can impress your attendings when you’re a third year

𖤐lowkey really wants you to specialize in nephrology

I really love this prompt! It was so fun to write. I really need to get around to posting my general headcanons about all the creeps bc like I keep referencing it but it’s not up ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Love the posts on Harry’s mischaracterisation!! It’s soo soothing to come across Harry appreciation!

How infuriating is it that everything he does, particularly his successful defeat of Voldemort, hinges on Hermione’s guidance. Fic writers out here writing smack like without her, the trio would’ve been lost and aimless. Or how Hermione’s spell repertoire kept Harry alive throughout school. Uhm, ex-bloody-cuse me? And then some fics go to the extremes of even making Harry a pliable weakling who can’t think for himself or make him apologise for coming off as self-righteous and prejudiced against the racist party? 🙄

Honestly, it’s seems less like terrible reading comprehension and more of extreme bias for their fav character, who is definitely so not Harry, and some blatant dislike of him instead. You never see the titular character so severely undervalued and made fun of in other series smh.

Thank you so much! 😊

Harry is my favorite and I can't get how people can dislike him so much after reading the books.

Now, I don't want to put down Hermione. Her spell repertoire and tendency to plan ahead did save their lives multiple times. Ron, also, had his share of clever heroic moments and he got to save the trio's lives too. And so did Harry. All three of them are smart, talented, and capable wizards in their own right. Like, the entire Golden Trio are not average and it's shown to be so repeatedly.

But, Harry is special. He is the main character and the chosen one for a reason. While Ron and Hermione are smart and talented, they don't have Harry's sheer magical talent that's on par with characters like Voldemort and Dumbledore.

Honestly, I find the weak-willed passive Harry more offensive than the unintelligent or magically inept one. Harry is so smart, but one of the most defining aspects of his character is his iron will and strength of character. It's a big aspect of what makes him special. what makes him the main hero. I mean, there's a reason he can naturally resist the Imperius. Harry James Potter is so strong. He goes through so much and is such a good person anyway. He's willing to stand up and keep fighting against impossible odds, and honestly, book!Harry is an inspirational character. There's a lot you can learn from him and aspire to (not everything, but his resilience is truly something to behold).

That being said, I don't think this is unique to Harry Potter (Ron bashing which often mischaracterizes him, for example) or the HP fandom as a whole.

I used to be a huge Percy Jackson fan (I kinda hate everything past the Last Olympian, HOO was not to my liking at all, but I digress). And from what I remember in fics and the PJO fandom when I was there (I think it's worse now, from the bits I see on occasion), it had just as much of a problem as the Harry Potter fandom does. Fanon often portrayed Percy as stupid, or this kind of sunshine character, when he really isn't. Fans complained back when House of Hades came out that Percy was OOC for chocking a goddess with her own blood, and I was sitting there, like, this is the guy that turned his abusive stepdad to stone with Medusa's head when he was 12 — are we really talking about the same character?

Percy in the first 5 books was clever, witty, genuinely funny, but also really bitter. He had loads of spite in him but he also genuinely cared about people and was incredibly loyal to his loved ones. The fandom, just turned him into a happy-go-lucky funny guy who can't get out of a paper bag without Annabeth (the smart love interest). And it infuriated me there too because I liked canon Percy.

I was also, a huge Gravity Falls fan (still am, actually, even if I'm not as hyper-fixated as I was in 2015). When I was in high school, I was in the Gravity Falls cipher-breaking trenches. I was analyzing that show frame by frame and spoiled all the plot twists to my irl friends because I saw the clues (such as predicting who's the author and the stan twins situation after s1 ep19). I actually predicted a good chunk of what's written in the Book of Bill that came out this year with the Bill Cipher psychological analysis I wrote when I was 15. (I feel so vindicated about that. I sent a bunch of quotes from the book to those same irl friends who thought I was overthinking Bill and the finale captioned: "I told you so").

Point is, the main characters of Gravity Falls (Dipper and Mabel) got so mischaracterized by fandom and fics back in the day.

Dipper was often pigeonholed as a goody-two-shoes awkward smart-guy nerd and fans complained he was OOC when he acted more vindictive in season 2, when, in fact, Dipper was always vindictive and could hold a mean grudge. (Dipper Pines, s1 ep8: "Revenge is underrated, that felt awesome!"). Dipper isn't a typical smart-guy character, yes, he's nerdy and clever and socially awkward, but he's also incredibly brave and determined. Honestly, Dipper's determination is his most defining trait, not his intelligence or intellect (which is sometimes more preformative, s2 ep7: "Sometimes I use big words and I don't actually know what they mean, I mean, I'm supposed to be the smart guy"), but I digress.

Mabel was the fandom's punching back around the finale of season 2 and the fandom treated her like a selfish horrible person for acting like a twelve-year-old girl who loves her brother. They made her out to be some kind of awful monstrous person when Mabel is one of the sweetest characters in media ever. She makes mistakes, she is a little selfish at times, but she truly cares about being a good person, about doing good and making people's lives better. Hell her worst confession was her feeling guilty about not loving all her stuffed animals equally and the fandom still called her evil. She also owns up to her mistakes, which is more than many people can say.

So, really, this disdain for the main characters and mischaracterization of them isn't new or unique to the HP fandom. I think it's been part of literature analysis since human literature existed if I'm being honest. It just feels worse now because everyone with an opinion has an internet connection and social media amplifies a lot of bad takes (but also a lot of good takes!). But, yeah, this is a prevalent fandom thing, but it isn't just the HP fandom.

As I said many times before, write and read whatever fanon content you feel like, have fun, but canon exists, and sometimes, canon is better.

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.

[joocomics]

wild cherry: christmas special

⌞ PART ONE ⌝ || ⌞ PART TWO ⌝ || ⌞ SMAU ⌝

pairing: bf!hyeongjun x fem!reader x bsf!jiseok

genre: smut, slice of life ( 18+ ) ── 2.3k words

attending a christmas party with your boyfriend han hyeongjun and your best friend jiseok who's back in town for winter break is followed by getting cozy in your apartment only the three of you; just the way you like it

✎… established monogamous relationship, sub!reader, threesome, fingering, orgasm denial (f!rec), orgasm control (f!rec), spanking, begging, restraints

a.note ! this wild cherry spin-off was initially planned to be released on dec 25 as a little christmas gift from me to you, my lovely readers and enjoyers of the wild cherry trio, but because my health condition got worse i didn’t get the chance to put it out. but here it is! i hope it’s still enjoyable for all of you! love you <3

( xdh masterlist )

Familiar and unfamiliar faces are already mingling in Jooyeon's apartment when you arrive.

Your boyfriend Hyeongjun is holding your hand as Jiseok walks in first with excited eyes roaming in search for the host of this party. He told you beforehand that Jooyeon is known for throwing the best parties no matter the time of the year and despite you've never met the guy you can already tell it must be true.

The place is crowded. Filled with laughter, chatter and twinkling lights.

“The decoration is so pretty!” You exclaim, not expecting to see such beautiful Christmas tree in the corner of a college boy's apartment.

“He definitely had someone to do it for him,” your boyfriend comments not dropping your hand.

“You caught me!” Somebody shouts behind you before appearing out of nowhere.

There's a wide grin on his sharp face as his eyes sparkle joyfully; they kind of soften his intimidating features as he introduces himself before giving Hyeongjun a big hug.

“Make yourself at home.” He winks at you, and to that, you reply with a quick, appreciative smile.

You’re in the middle of putting your jacket away when you’re pleased to see a familiar face approaching. Now, you remain in the dress you carefully picked out for tonight; Hyeongjun isn't here to see it, though - Jiseok was quick to drag him in a different direction.

The girl, a childhood friend from your neighbourhood, wraps arms around you in excitement as you haven't seen each other in a hot minute.

“So you know Jooyeon?” She raises a brow, walking you to the kitchen counter where all the drinks are.

“Oh, I just met him for the first time,” you explain, taking your first sip of alcohol for the night, “Jiseok and my boyfriend are close friends with him.”

“Ohh, a boyfriend? Sweet.” She smiles, but you can tell she's more interested in something else you said. “I'm surprised to see Jiseok in town. I really want to talk to him, but we haven't spoken in like... years. I follow him on Instagram though, he's gotten so fuckin' hot.”

You shoot a glance over at the circle where Hyeongjun and Jiseok are chatting with few other guys, then guide your eyes back on the girl in front of you. She's staring while holding the red plastic cup against her chin, lost in thoughts - about Jiseok you can guess.

“He's still the same silly guy you probably remember.” You attempt an encouraging smile.

“You're like besties with him, right?” Her curious gaze fixates on your face with determination. “Do you think I'm his type?”

“Yeah, but he doesn't really date so I have no idea who he's hooking up with.” You shrug shoulders, looking away. For some reason you're struggling with your words a bit and you don't like that. “Go for it.” You shrug again.

“I will!” She squeals, overexcited with the idea and walks away.

You watch her walk into the living area and you feel something bitter on your tongue… it's not from the drink you're having.

The following moment, you catch Hyeongjun leaving the overcrowded sofa and heading towards you. His presence immediately makes that unsettling thrill vanish. Now it's only the special affection you feel for him flowing through your veins.

“Apparently everyone gets one of these.” He reveals what he's been hiding behind his back - a pair of reindeer ears headband and a santa hat. “So, which one you're picking?”

“The hat obviously.” You chuckle, stealing it from his hand and putting it on.

“Alright, no need to fight me over it.”

Hyeongjun's sarcastic expression slowly starts to fade as he drags his gaze up your figure.

He finally noticed; that makes you smile with satisfaction and you take a step closer.

“It's just that you will look adorable with these.” You grab the headband and place it in his dark brown hair.

The corners of his lips curl slightly coyly, tempting you to kiss him.

“I've never seen you in this dress before,” he comments using the opportunity to place hands on your waist. His adulation is evident even in his voice that's turning lower. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you, baby.” You almost whisper, hanging arms over his shoulders.

You breathe in his scent before shutting your eyes as your lips meet in a slow kiss. You can effortlessly melt in his warm embrace if you stay for longer like this; especially when your mouths are perfectly connected too.

After you separate, still aware of your surroundings, you take your boyfriend's hands and pull him towards the living room that has transformed into a dance floor thanks to Jooyeon's punk rock playlist.

You have to give it to him - it's a good one.

“C'mon!” You pleade as Hyeongjun's head shakes in refusal. “Just one dance, please!”

Your lips purse into a pout while your boyfriend continues to scrunch up sulkully.

His brain hates the idea, but clearly, his body cannot deny you a thing, because his legs allow to be dragged in the centre of the room after he tosses the headband on the counter.

He’s not dancing and keeping those on at the same time.

“You can just hold me like this,” you lower his hands on your waist as your back is pressed against his chest. Your hips sway side to side following the rhythm of the song while your fingers rest on top of his. “And I'll dance for you.”

Hyeongjun laughs silently at your demeanor, but he admits that he enjoys the feeling of this - of your body rubbing gently against him while your perfume helps him shut his mind off as he focuses only on having you in his arms.

For a little while, you get lost in the moment, and once your eyes open you notice something new - Jiseok has turned his back on the people he's been talking with, and is giving all his attention on the girl from your neighbourhood that he hasn't seen in years; the one you encouraged to go talk to him.

You don't know what's happening to you; seeing this shouldn't be making you feel this way.

Yes, you love Jiseok and you always will - differently from how you love Hyeongjun, but still just as strongly. Maybe what you feel when you look at them is in fact jealousy. One that's deriving not from him possibly spending the night with a girl, but him, possibly choosing somebody else over you and Hyeongjun.

And that’s stupid. But then... you barely get to see him anymore.

As your mind races from overthinking in addition to your boyfriend's lips getting in warm contact with your neck, you and Jiseok lock eyes across the room.

His gaze peers into yours, and judging by the way your mutual friend remains sitting still, she doesn't notice a thing yet. You can only see her back and how her hands fly in the air as she yaps to him, but he doesn't seem to be listening anymore.

Not when you provoke Hyeongjun to kiss your neck by discreetly, or not so discreetly, grinding your ass against his crotch.

“Mmm, kiss me again,” you say and he fulfills your wish - with an open mouth that goes for another kiss straight away.

Pleasant warmth rises in your veins when Hyeongjun’s grip tightens on the sides of your body as his lips travel to your jawline in front of Jiseok’s eyes; a small airy sound escapes his throat from your ass slowing down against his dick.

Jiseok’s face forms a half-smirk as if he actually heard that. The tension in his gaze, glowing at you in the form of a mischievous spark, remains strong and evident, as he forces it back on the girl in front of him.

You miss out on this, but not even a minute later he looks at you again. But you already turned around, placing hands on Hyeongjun’s neck who’s staring lovingly at your mouth.

The three of you crash on your bed, or more concretely you and Hyeongjun, meanwhile Jiseok sits on the edge of it, because it’s too small for the three of you to lay comfortably.

He’s sleeping on the couch tonight, but for now, he’s still here as you’re chatting about the new skateboard decks he’s been working on. It’s way past midnight, but waiting in the cold weather for your cab to arrive kind of erased the tiredness from your bodies.

You sit up so you’re in the middle of the two boys as the conversation eventually comes to an end. You’re between Hyeongjun’s legs meanwhile Jiseok is next to you - laid back, with hands sinking into the mattress as he stares blankly into the wall in front of him.

Once he acknowledges your gaze on his side profile he turns to face you.

It’s not that easy to look away from Jiseok; especially when you share memories like the ones you do, and you haven’t seen each other in person in six months.

And when you’re both slightly tipsy.

Your eyes peek at his familiar plump lips and Jiseok can swear that running his tongue over them is not an intentional act. He just cannot ignore the rush that’s awakening in him as he reminisces about your taste.

He looks away and sighs, but his eyes return to you quickly after when you pull him closer by his shirt.

“It’s very sweet of you that you left the party with us.”

You tug the clothing slowly in your direction and Jiseok feels a strong adrenaline wave invading his chest.

“Of course,” he replies breathlessly; seconds before you invite your lips onto his own.

He lurches forward, unsteady by his posture, but also by the kiss that magnifies in a matter of seconds. The way your tongue swiftly turns it into a sloppy making out catches him aback and for a quick moment he finds himself weakening under your control.

But just for a moment.

You pull back and your eyes smile at him, approving of his glossy stunned gaze, before you turn your back on him.

You crawl onto Hyeongjun’s restful figure, and lean over his face, wanting to kiss him too. You keep your spine arched, your thighs spread out to provide Jiseok with a tempting view.

Soon enough, you earn goosebumps from his hands sneaking beneath your dress with lazy motions. They roam around your ass, sinking rough fingertips into your flesh, but not for long as you let out a soft moan in your boyfriend’s mouth and that provokes them to pull your panties to the side; then spank you once or twice.

He always needs so little from you for his self control to crumble.

“Tsk,” he snickers at the wetness his fingers slip into, “already wet, holy fuck…”

Hyeongjun tastes your sounds of pleasure one by one, so sweet on his tongue that he finds himself humming along with hands in your hair; intoxicating himself more by swallowing them all through your eager kisses.

The arousal Jiseok forms inside you heightens rapidly though - his bold arched fingers eventually start to aim against your deepest spot furiously as your walls now pulse harder around them.

“Baby,” you pant in Hyeongjun’s face that heats up from your breathing, “I’m so close—“

Your one hand grips his shirt for support as he only smirks at your gradual change of state, until your head drops in defeat, and that makes him chuckle softly.

Jiseok emptied your stimulated walls and left them to clench around air.

“Close?” He asks behind you with devilish tilt in his tone before landing another slap at your ass. “Maybe not close enough.”

You rise up and his hands cannot resist the temptation to travel up to your boobs when your back is practically pressing against his chest.

Hyeongjun watches the two of you with lustful eyes - how his friend’s teeth graze against your neck, promising scattered violet marks all over your skin; his palms full with your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth sucks greedily below your ear until a moment later they open to look at him.

After he sits up, you impatiently grip his shirt as a sign for him to get closer. That results into Hyeongjun dragging your dress up your hips and tugging your underwear down so he can finally touch you.

“Make me cum, please, baby…” You hold onto him, begging with your fragile rushed voice and with every little flinch of your body.

His lips tug lazily at your obvious neediness, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about to fulfill your wish right away.

“Patience, doll.” He runs his fingers up and down your slick with zero force.

“That means you cum whenever we say,” Jiseok adds onto his friend’s words and his erotic laughter clashes with the sound of his metal belt getting undone behind you.

“Please!” You mewl again, twitching at the way the rush elevates every time Hyeongjun’s digits get closer to your clit.

His fingers are cold and that only adds to the nice thrill lingering low in your tummy instead of repressing it.

“Soo needy tonight.”

“Should we tie her hands maybe?” Jiseok shoots a glance over his friend, removing his belt completely. “She’s getting very touchy.”

He’s referring to your desperate attempts to keep their hands where you need them most. Unfortunately, they keep sneaking away.

Hyeongjun's cold touch withdraws entirely as he gives a response that makes your heart skip a beat from excitment.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

At that moment, you realise it - Jiseok seems to effortlessly pull out your boyfriend's domineering side in ways you haven't yet.

You wonder what other things could these two boys come up with because of you.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[homestuckreplay]

As somebody who’s nuerodivergent and has MDD (Major Depressive Disorder aka Clinical Depression), I find those points about John very interesting! Is there any other hints of this throughout the comic that we’ve seen?

hello!! sorry this took so long, I reread every John page so far and I now have a normal length answer to this question!! (2.9k words shhhh) I will broadly talk about neurodivergence first and then depression, but some of these points could apply to either or both.

I’m also neurodivergent, and I’ve had depression in the past, so this is based on my personal experiences + reading through the diagnostic criteria. if anyone else has different experiences I’d love to hear about it!

So my favorite academic article I’ve found this year is in a journal of disability studies by autistic writer David Preyde, and it’s just him listing all his special interests and how and why they became important to him. It reads like a blog post and I love that it was ‘officially’ published. It reminds me so much of how the Homestuck kids have been introduced, just more in depth.

John is hitting some common/stereotypical special interests, like computer programming and movie trivia, and some less common ones, like old comedians. I don’t think the fact of having interests makes John neurodivergent, but his approach to them might. John sees a Con Air reference and immediately starts explaining the plot of the movie (p.132); he also does recreations of Deep Impact (p.21), A Time to Kill (p.109) and Armageddon (p.223) He can list all the rare Gushers flavors (p.979). He thinks Colonel Sassacre will be able to tell him the ‘precise index of elevated hilarity’ of a joke (p.36). John treats things really methodically, he likes to list and sort and categorize. It’s why he likes programming computers but isn’t good at it – he knows it’s a great hobby for all that, but hasn’t quite mastered the rules yet.

This is also how he figured out punch card alchemy. Not only does he pick up a new skill much quicker when it relates to an existing special interest (stage magic), but he’s a super fast problem solver when the rules make sense and it works the same every time. He prefers familiarity, taking a while to adjust to changes, like taking time to warm up to the new MSPA adventure (p.112).

I would even argue that John’s sylladex could be a new special interest – it’s something he’s just found at the start of the comic (while his friends have all been into it for a while) and he’s deeply frustrated by the rules at first, when its behavior constantly changes due to different numbers of cards, lack of available cards, options to combine items, new modi, etc. But he still works at it for hours even though it’s hard, because it’s captivated him somehow. He picks up the language and techniques at a speed that’s only possible for someone very dedicated, and he’s super excited to get the control deck for his birthday, a very practical gift that other kids might be bored by. This is like the Homestuck equivalent of getting a backpack with a lot of pockets.

John is really proud of the computer wallpaper he made (p.25) and still gives his dad drawings to put on the fridge (p.253) – he’s very earnest about his interests. He also kind of has the fandom impulse to create his own canon that he likes better than the source material – upon seeing Harry Anderson: Wise Guy, he thinks that ‘Mike Caveney's glowing treatment of the man does him every bit of justice’ (p.253), but when he actually re-reads the book, Caveney’s ‘ambivalent attitude toward [John’s] favorite magician in these anecdotes always struck [him] as a little weird’. John is inventing Wise Guy fanfiction in his head which is incredible. It’s also an example of black and white thinking, and the quick switch from one extreme to the other in opinions without much room for nuance, that John often exhibits.

John also has a lot of specific object fixations, or comfort objects – the Con Air bunny has quickly become this. In the original movie the bunny is owned by a 7-year-old girl, while John presents as a 13-year-old boy, someone for who it’s far less socially acceptable to own a stuffed animal – but John isn’t concerned about that. The green slime ghost pogo ride is another object he returns to over and over – other people might see that as a dangerous knockoff piece of junk, but to John it carries a lot of meaning (p.105, 476). He’s always carrying things like a wizard’s hat (p.44) or shaving cream (p.488) in his sylladex that have no practical use, he just wants to have them.

John is really weird in social interactions, and often tries to avoid them altogether. The lengths John goes to to not run into his dad while exploring the house in the first 100 pages take more time and effort than actually talking to him, but John avoids him no matter the cost. On page 30 he’s also frustrated because Dave is texting him again, and John wants to be left in peace to look at his video games. Not play the games, just look at them. It’s very relatable to me to want to just enjoy my cool stuff even when not actively engaging in it, and to have a lot of ‘off time’ even from my close friends.

John responds to Rose’s genuine sentiments with ‘haha, oh jeez, that is silly!’ (p.256) and struggles with getting his dad to talk about his nanna’s death – on page 543 he considers asking her about it directly; I think some neurotypical people may see that as an unwritten social taboo. But John isn’t uncaring; he marks his friends’ birthdays on his calendar (p.999) and buys them all personalized gifts that they all end up loving, even if Rose interprets hers as a ‘subtle dig’ which John didn’t intend (p.442). John also says ‘ok, i guess i will take your word for it’ to Nanna (p.420) could come across as passive-aggressive, but John means it so genuinely.

John struggles to see beyond his own perspective, like when he’s surprised that it’s already dark in Rose’s house (p.174) despite knowing where she lives. He’s generally very preoccupied with his own concerns, but he eventually remembers to ask Rose ‘are you ok? hasn't your house been on fire for like... five hours now?’ He clearly cares about the people he’s close to, but doesn’t show it in the most obvious ways.

John is hilarious, but he doesn’t tell jokes in a standard format. He is straightforward in all social interactions, and doesn’t have the bantering instinct that Rose and Dave do. Some top tier examples of John humor: ‘it is understandable because you are really attractive. i am attracted to you... jk haha’ (p.35), ‘oh, btw... jk I was wearing a funny disguise this whole time. gotcha! hehehehe’ and Rose’s accompanying response of ‘I know, John.’ (p.63), and ‘yeah, more like the opposite of all those things is the thing that is true!’ (p.386). He clearly has the jokester’s spirit, but unusual execution.

John generally takes things at face value, thinking that Jade ‘seems like a pretty regular girl’ (p.652), and his dynamic with Dave is really fascinating. All their conversations read like Dave is doing a bit and John is taking him completely seriously, but Dave isn’t making fun of John, they’re both having a good time. So it’s not like when a so-called normal kid bullies a weird kid in school, it’s more like these two people who are both different flavors of neurodivergent bouncing off each other in a way that unexpectedly works. This also explains why John hates GameBro and Dave likes it – John takes it seriously while Dave is reading it as a satire of other gaming magazines. (I actually don’t know which is true).  

John has a bunch of rigid rules for the world that read like shortcuts – he doesn’t innately understand societal norms, but has figured out these approximations through careful observation. A kid’s yard must have a tire swing (p.27), a fireplace must have a fire (p.50), and a father must have a pipe (p.74) and by satisfying the checkboxes you can make a family. He’s hesitant to break rules he knows even when it’s a logical course of action, like when he doesn’t want to break the window of his dad’s car to get the Sburb disc and save Rose’s life (p.289).

But if he hasn’t added something to his List of Known Social Rules, it’s open season – he’s completely unconcerned when he accidentally throws one of Dad’s harlequin figurines into the abyss (p.266) even though he gets upset when the things he likes are defaced. The imps are ‘stupid lousy’ for ‘mucking up all [John’s] cool stuff’ (p.473) and have ‘fucking ruined’ his movie posters which ‘were like children to [him]’ (also another example of object fixation). John being overly cautious in some social situations but totally oblivious in others is SO neurodivergent to me, so obviously someone who wants to get it right, but doesn’t have the innate skill.

John clearly struggles with emotional regulation, I don’t think he’s good at masking in face-to-face interactions, and even online ones when he gets stressed enough. He also has very physical reactions to emotional distress (and excitement!), and that can’t be explained by the medium needing to show emotions visually, because he does this to a FAR greater extent than Rose and Dave. John does a victory dance when he wins in battle (p.405) but scrunches up his face and covers his ears when Nannasprite offers him cookies (p.429). Some panels where he’s having a meltdown are really evocative, and it’s so easy for me to imagine how he must be feeling – the chaos of page 517, where John is paralyzed and panicked from way too many stimuli both inside and outside his head, is my best example.

His panic is also evident in his pesterlogs with Dave and Jade shortly after arriving in the Medium. He’s pretty rude to Dave, saying ‘dude, i don't have time for your nerdy raps!’ (p.204) and his sudden use of lots of exclamation points make all his messages sound distressed. He pours the whole story of his meteor escape to Jade, seemingly unable to stop himself (p.293) where someone with more control over their emotional responses might bottle it up, or at least calm down before explaining the story to a friend.

John’s intrusive thoughts are part of the medium; hearing commands in his head is better explained by the story’s rules than by John’s mental state. However, studies have found that intrusive thoughts are very common among humans – they’re just easy to dismiss for most people, while a small minority find them distressing to the point that they affect daily life.

Rose posits that John’s reactions to WV’s commands could be ‘the early symptoms of an anxiety disorder, like post-traumatic stress’ but I read it a little differently; I think his distress at WV’s commands, as opposed to the background radiation of reader commands, kind of represents how a symptom that is manageable in one context becomes debilitating in another.

Related to commands, John likes having clear instructions to follow, and doesn’t respond well to uncertainty. When he has no idea how to use the alchemiter, he just stands on it (p.161) – but he also doesn’t uncritically accept authority. He defers to expertise and likes to ask specific questions and get clear instructions before acting, but that has to be earned. He sees Rose as smart and capable in general, so he follows her instructions within Sburb (for example, p.178) unless he has a better idea (for example, p.187). But the Wayward Vagabond hasn’t earned John’s trust or done anything besides shout and insult him, so John resists his commands (for example, p.264).

A few miscellaneous things I noticed are John just HAVING to complete high fives with his sprite’s raised arm (p.198, 880), John being clumsy and accidentally toppling his nanna’s urn (p.53), John having very strong preferences when it comes to food, as he loves Gushers enough to get them as a birthday gift (p.972) but pulls instinctive faces of disgust at the thought of eating cookies (p.430), and the line ‘there is apparently no crisis so imminent that will deter you from contemplating idiotic and frivolous actions’ (p.199). I think that someone whose brain processes things differently may appear idiotic and frivolous, and they might even internalize that perspective, but the logic actually makes sense. (In this case, John trying to eat a unit of build grist taught him more about how grist as a gaming abstraction works).

Most evidence for John’s depression is in early act 1, before the plot really kicks off. John is very depersonalized at the start of the story; it’s only on his thirteenth birthday that he gets given a name, and he’s associated with a regularly-changing disguise throughout the first hundred pages. There’s a broader theme of mistaken identity in his home – his dad might be a clown or might be a businessman, the figurines might be clowns or harlequins or mimes, the poster on the wall might be Michael Cera but isn’t, and both John’s dad’s room and his own room are not what he expected them to be.

I think this theme of disguise relates to how John doesn’t see himself as having a real identity, perhaps not even a recognizable personality outside of his interests. I also think John is much better at masking his depression than his neurodivergence in a way that’s pretty tragic. Both Rose (p.63) and Dad (p.89) see through John’s CLEVER DISGUISE immediately and think they know John for it, but there’s another part to the disguise that they never notice.

John puts himself down a lot in the early story, insulting his own taste in movies and skills at programming in his list of interests (p.4), thinking of himself as a pooplord (p.5), as neither a skilled magician nor cunning prankster (p.8), stupid (p.16), etc. The “sad clown paradox” (for sure one of my favorite Wikipedia article titles) refers to the correlation between comedians and depression, and while it’s not universal, I think it’s very true for John. Playing a prank on someone and seeing their reaction is a moment of predictable pleasure in an endless drudgery of whiling away the hours, and those tiny bursts of dopamine – and connection with another person, if they respond well – are what keeps John going.

John struggles to focus on reading – every book he owns, we’ve seen him contemplate reading and put off until later. He does this with Colonel Sassacre’s (p.32, 69, 885), Wise Guy (p.123, 253), Data Structures for Assholes (p.116), and the Shaving Almanac (p.544). When he does sit down to read, he’s easily distracted (p.391) – he has good reason here, but this struggle to focus could be a sign of depression. This could be why John has an interest, paranormal lore, that we don’t really see him engage in; it’s easy for depression to take the joy out of something that was once filled with it.

I actually think it’s really interesting how Homestuck’s version of Wise Guy presents Harry Anderson – John’s hero – as a clumsy, incompetent fool (p.629) while the real world Wise Guy describes him as charismatic and in control of the crowd. I say this with all the love in the world, but John has the charisma of the fake Harry Anderson and not the real, and he believes that of himself too. John picking a hero who is described in such a negative light speaks to the type of people he identifies with.

On page 82, which is both the Homestuck title card and the best evidence for John’s depression, he refers to the streets as ‘empty’, to the ‘voids keeping neighbors apart’, ‘hollow’, ‘Desolation’, to feeling something ‘missing’, ‘eluding’, a sense of ‘lack’, ‘Absence’, a ‘mystery dispersing’, a ‘black well’. All that imagery is packed into two paragraphs that do not describe a happy person. This sense of emptiness, distance, space and loss of something is what I most associate with depression, and it provides a real contrast to those autistic meltdown moments where John is feeling too much.

John explicitly says that he feels trapped in his room (p.30) but I think he’s actually trapped in a mindset, and the room or house is more like the physical manifestation of that. That’s not a criticism of him, as I think that can be equally hard to break out of. I have talked a lot about growing up in the suburbs being terrible for finding community, but there is another angle. The Egberts are comfortably middle class, Dad has a car, money, flexible enough work schedule to take John’s birthday off, and supports John’s interests. There are probably computer programming clubs or amateur magic classes in a nearby city, and if John said he wanted to join something like that, I bet Dad would support him. John’s depression makes it impossible for him to even imagine a better situation, much less take steps to grasp it – he needed to be seconds from death for his survival instincts to kick in and make him take action.

I hope that answers your question! Again, I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on this if anyone has different experiences or picked up on different John moments.

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 5: Forgotten

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your family gains new additions.

Hello! My sincere apologies for how long this took. I got massively sidetracked by researching how to bind a book, the interest in which hit at a completely inappropriate time in the writing-editing-crafting cycle, lol. I should definitely be focusing on finishing this thing before I start fixating on binding books. Anyway; this chapter is a little time-jumpy, given that I have to speed through a bunch of time. Also, note that I've fudged with the ages of Alicent's kids, so in Episode 3, know that she is now pregnant with Aemond, not Helaena like in the show. It's the only way to make him of-age in the Episode 8 scenes. Happy (and well-deserved) holidays to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs, who I have graciously given a night off of slaving away for me, lol.

TRIGGERS: continued discussion of child grief, Viserys's shenanigans in impregnating an underaged Alicent (canon, this is NOT MY ADDITION).

When Alicent gets married to Papa, they have a big ceremony. So so many people come from all over the kingdom to see Papa take a new queen, and the days of the wedding—there are lots of days to them starting in marriage—are full of more noise and colour and movement than you could ever think was real.

Her dress is very pretty, and Papa looks very nice in his new coat, but neither of them look so happy as people who are going to be in marriage should be. Papa keeps playing with the ring on his finger that is from Mama, while Alicent just looks like she is afraid. You think it might be because of how loud everyone is being.

’Nyra isn’t happy, either. She keeps you on her lap the entire time with an angry look and doesn’t speak to Alicent very much at all, but at least she tries to be kind when she does. She ignores Papa, and because you are all sitting at the high table and everyone is watching you, he cannot tell her she is being rude and naughty.

Because you don’t want to look at Alicent’s unhappy face or ’Nyra’s angry one, you play with your sister’s necklace, letting the shiny metal take all your attention. It is Valyrian steel, which is what Papa’s and Uncle’s swords are made out of, so it is very special. Uncle gave it to her. When you let your fingers swirl over the ruby in the middle of the big pendant over and over, you pretend that it’s a part of him and that he’s here, after all.

After the big ceremony is done, life goes back to almost-normal. Now that Alicent is Papa’s queen, she is something called a stepmother, meaning that Brella and Septa and all the people who are made to look after you and ’Nyra have to talk to her about you both. She is like your mama. You wake up and break your fast with Alicent, and she cuts up your food instead of Mama, and she takes you outside to play and tells you about the names of the flowers. Then, when it is time to sleep again, she reads you a story. You think that she likes it very much because she always seems sad until she sees you, and then her face goes bright like the sun.

‘Nyra doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it at all. When she learns that Alicent is acting like your mama, she goes very red like she’s going to scream, but she just goes very quiet instead and storms out of your rooms. For that whole day, ’Nyra takes you to the gardens and to see Syrax and to the library to learn some more High Valyrian, her new sworn shield Ser Criston behind her all the time. She never once lets you go see Alicent to do the things you normally do. When you finally get to be in the room with her at suppertime with Papa and ’Nyra, which Papa has said you all must do now so that everyone can get along, all she does is give you a small smile that doesn’t make her eyes go bright like usual and ask about your big day with your sister.

That is how things are for a while. Either you will go through your days with Alicent or with ’Nyra, and never both in one day because ’Nyra is still so angry at Alicent for being in marriage with Papa. You keep asking why, but your sister doesn’t tell you anything. She just goes quiet and frowns and mutters things you cannot hear. Meanwhile, Alicent will always stop, take a big breath that sounds shaky when she lets it out, and say, “I have no quarrel with Rhaenyra. She is as welcome to my rooms and in my company as you are, princess.”

You think that might be a lie.

One day, though, everything changes.

’Nyra decides to take you to the library so that you can look at more books in High Valyrian. Even the books written in the Common Tongue make no sense to you yet, and Brella told you this is because you are not old enough to learn reading properly. Still, your sister says that it is still good to try when you’re young, so she sits beside you and points out all the funny-looking symbols and tells you what they mean all together. You fall asleep in there instead of having a nap in your bed, but ’Nyra just puts a blanket over you and keeps reading. When you wake, you listen to her voice as she speaks the words from the pages aloud. You don’t understand all of it, but you think you’ve learned more and more since Mama died and she stopped being friends with Alicent. It means she has lots of time for you. Maybe that shouldn’t make you happy, but you cannot help it.

At supper, you see Lord Hightower, Alicent’s papa, beside her. That means that you have to be next to ’Nyra tonight, so you follow her to her side of the table and sit in the chair that the maid pulls out for you. The chair is higher than the others, made special so that you can reach the food that is put before you. Looking around, it is easy to tell that something is different from how happy Lord Hightower looks and how smiling Papa’s face is.

“My two daughters,” he says a bit too loudly, cheeks bright red. His cup is in front of him, and the gold shines red from the drink inside. Wine, you think. It is for men and women, not little girls, and it makes the people who drink it act strange like Papa is now. He waves his hand in a ‘hello’ as he lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a sip. “Ah!”

’Nyra starts eating her food without a word. Everyone has plates with different foods on it, but you have a bowl in front of your seat. Because you are small, the cooks always give you pottage for your supper so that you can eat it with a spoon and no one has to cut things up for you. You don’t always like it—there are lots of lumps and you can never tell what taste is going to be in your mouth with each bite—but it is warm and makes your tummy nice and full.

The room is full of the sounds of chewing and clack-clacking when the knives and forks hit the plates. You pick up your spoon and scoop up some food. There are dark bits, which means the cooks have put meat in it. You scrunch your nose.

Papa coughs between bites. He is still smiling a lot. “It seems like an age since I saw you last!”

“We had supper with you yesterday evening,” ’Nyra says.

“Ah, yes!” He takes another drink of his wine. Maybe he shouldn’t, because he is blinking very much like you do when you’re trying to stay awake. “Perhaps the waiting has made it seem longer.”

“Waiting?”

“I am sure you have noticed Otto’s presence by now.”

’Nyra doesn’t even look at the man. “My lord.” Her voice seems cold.

“Princess.” Lord Hightower bends his head, but he doesn’t sound very happy either.

Alicent puts her hand on Papa’s arm. ’Nyra watches so closely that you wonder if her eyes can make holes in other people’s skin. “I—we—have some news, Rhaenyra.”

“Oh?” She sounds bored.

“Well…”

When Alicent doesn’t say anything, ’Nyra makes a huffing noise. It is very rude.

“Well?” she asks, looking between Alicent and Papa. “What is it, then? Everyone’s acting rather strange.”

“Alicent is with child,” Papa says.

‘With child’ is what people say when a baby is growing in a lady’s belly. It’s what Mama told you before Baelon grew very large inside her.

’Nyra freezes, almost like she has forgotten how to move. No one says anything. Papa’s smile—the one that his words made so much bigger when he said them out loud—begins to fall, more and more with each moment that ’Nyra does nothing at all. Then, it goes away completely, and he’s no longer happy like he was.

It’s quiet again. Not the nice kind—the kind that means that someone is about to yell or be naughty.

“A baby?” you ask. Maybe you can stop the bad from happening if you help everyone remember that you’re still here.

Alicent looks at you, the fear leaving her face a little. She nods. “Yes, princess. You’re to have a brother or sis—”

“Half-brother.” ’Nyra’s lips move, but the rest of her stays still. She cannot stop staring between Papa and Alicent. “Or half-sister. Either way, they will not be your full blood.”

“You are correct, princess.” From the way Lord Hightower speaks and how silent Alicent and Papa are at ’Nyra’s words, you think she must have said something quite mean. He gives her a little smile, one that makes her hands squeeze really tight on her knife and fork. “Even so, these are glad tidings, indeed. Let us all pray for the queen to be delivered of a son.”

“I’m sure that would be of great benefit to the Hightowers, my lord. A son… to solidify your claim to my father’s throne.”

Lord Hightower stops smiling. Alicent gasps.

Papa makes a small noise. “Rhaenyra—”

All at once, she stands, the plate in front of her clattering loudly with how quick she rises. “Congratulations, Your Grace.” She doesn’t sound very happy for Alicent, even if the words are nice. “Forgive me—I feel suddenly unwell.”

“Daughter—”

’Nyra ignores Papa and storms out of the room, leaving her food only half-eaten. The rest of supper is very quiet, the loudest noise of all being the sound of your own breathing.

Isn’t a baby meant to be happy news? you wonder. You look around, but no one here is very happy—except for Lord Hightower. Though he isn’t smiling, he has his head held high like he has had every one of his wishes granted all at once.

“What do you think, princess?” Brella asks.

You stare down into the cradle at the baby. Your brother. Aegon. He is squirming, face bright red, squished and crying. He hasn’t stopped even once since you came into the room. He might have been crying since before you did, even. Aside from the bright hair on top of his head, you don’t think he looks very much like you.

“He’s nice,” is what you say, but you don’t know if you really mean it. It’s more for Alicent, who is watching you from over on the bed. She looks very tired. If you said something less kind, she may cry.

Alicent smiles. “Thank you, princess. Nurse—bring him to me, please.”

She doesn’t mean Brella. There is another woman here, Gwenys, who Lord Hightower and Septa Marlow assigned to help give Aegon milk and take care of him when Alicent cannot. Gwenys comes and picks up the baby, walking over to give him to Alicent. She rocks him in her arms which doesn’t stop him from crying, but she still keeps on bouncing him softly. He is very unhappy.

Now that Alicent is holding Aegon, you know that she’ll forget you are there. Ever since Papa told you and ’Nyra that he was in Alicent’s belly, neither of them have had much time for you. It feels like all the people in the keep—from Papa and Alicent and Lord Hightower to the servants and maids and stableboys—have been more excited for the baby than they ever were for you. The only person who has remembered you is ’Nyra, and so you are with her on most days. It sometimes makes you sad, because it really was very fun to play pretend that Alicent was your mama for a while, but ’Nyra says that it wasn’t going to last, anyway.

“She is to have her own child to care for, now,” she told you in the days after learning about the new baby. “You were good practice—but you aren’t her blood, not really. Not like you and I. Her son will be born, and you’ll be given to a nurse or a septa to raise.” When you cried, she bent down and wiped away your tears. “It doesn’t make her a bad person,” she said quietly. “But this is the way of the world, sister. Men and women, kings and queens… they all want sons. Us daughters must stick together, yes?”

’Nyra was right. At first, Alicent tried to keep pretending to be like your mama. But then, the baby made her very ill, so she stopped asking you to come to break your fast so you wouldn’t have to see her being sick into the pail by her bed. Then, she spent so much time sleeping that she didn’t have the energy to come outside with you, or to dance with you, and soon, the only time you would see her was at suppertime. Even that wasn’t always. And now the baby is here, you don’t think she will be going back to the way it used to be.

Maybe that is why he feels like such a stranger to you. At least with baby Baelon, you got to feel him kicking in Mama’s tummy. Aegon wasn’t here for so long, and then all of a sudden, he was. He is. You don’t know him at all. He’s just a baby, come to take your papa and almost-mama away from you like all the rest.

Brella’s hand on your shoulder is what helps you walk towards the door, Alicent and Aegon staying in the room behind you. With your back turned, it’s easier to pretend that Alicent is very sad by you leaving.

The more moons pass, the more faded Mama’s face is in your memory. You try to hold onto the way her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she smiled, or how her hair would curl a bit like yours after her bath, or the way she’d smell like roses when she hugged you tight. It slips away, out of reach. Putting rose oil in your bath helps you, but only a little bit—and the longer that Mama is gone, the less you can remember of her.

Papa doesn’t like to talk about her. When you ask him, he just spins the ring on his finger around and says, “Another time, perhaps.” You know that ‘another time’ really means ‘never’.

There is no one else in the keep that really knew her like you and your family knew her, except ’Nyra. She tells you stories sometimes, but you don’t ask a lot because she usually likes to tell the ones that have you in them. When she finishes, she always smiles and asks, “Do you remember?” You never can, and it leaves you feeling like someone has scooped out all your insides.

So, Mama fades, and becomes part of that place in your mind where the things that are being forgotten go. Even though you try and try and try, there is nothing that can stop the forgetting. One day, you think she might be nothing more than a quiet sort of sadness, like looking out the window at the rain and wondering why it makes your chest hurt so much.

Seeing Alicent with Aegon is the only thing that reminds you of her. Even though Alicent’s hair is red where Mama’s was silver, and Aegon is loud and angry where you are quiet and shy, the way that she kisses his cheeks or hums little songs under her breath to him makes you think of how Mama would do the same for you. He doesn’t seem to be very happy when she does these things. If it were you in his place, you know you’d be better than him. You wish she’d realise that.

It seems like no time at all goes by when Alicent is with child again, meaning she’s going to have another baby. If it is anything like Aegon, you do not think you’ll like it very much. Sometimes, you feel very naughty for it, but you cannot help how he makes you feel. All he wants to do is make a fuss and take everyone’s attention, and he keeps crying and being naughty even as Alicent’s belly grows bigger and bigger with your new brother or sister.

When Helaena is born, Papa and Lord Hightower aren’t as pleased as they were with Aegon. You can tell because, while they are both in the room when you come to meet her, neither one is looking at her as she lays in the cradle. They had both been looking down at Aegon last time. You think it is because Helaena is a girl, like you and ’Nyra. You decide that you have to love her if they won’t.

She is a quiet baby, but so still that it makes Gwenys worry and worry, even though all she is doing is lying in her cradle and staring straight up. Maybe she knows how rude her big brother is, you think, and she wants to do and be all the things he isn’t.

You weren’t allowed to hold Aegon because he was so disagreeable, which means he would probably have screamed and cried if you did. He still screams and cries, which is why Alicent has to spend all her days with him even though she’s just had a second baby, so Helaena is by herself with Gwenys most hours.

Helaena isn’t like Aegon. This time, Gwenys has you sit in a chair with a pillow under your arm and brings the baby to you. “Mind her head,” she says, tugging your arm forward so that Helaena fits nicely in your arms. “There we go.”

She is a big baby, round and heavy and warm, but you don’t mind because she gazes up at you with large blue eyes that look like they might turn purple when she gets older. The hairs she has on her head—and there aren’t many, not like Aegon had—are silver, and you know that she will look very much like you when she has grown more. When you stroke a finger over the skin on her hand, her whole fist grabs onto it, strong even though she is so young. It’s like she knows who you are, even without any words being said.

You wonder if this is how ’Nyra felt when she met you—a burning that tingles all through your arms and legs, not in a way that hurts, no, but in a way that makes you want to squeeze tight and never let go.

Helaena doesn’t cry. She falls asleep while you’re holding her, her face turned into you so that you can feel her tiny breaths through your dress. It is special and warm and love-feeling like Alicent used to be, like Mama was when she was not-dead. The hurt goes far away, still there but not so much, not so heavy in your chest.

For a little while, the sadness—of forgetting Mama, of being forgotten by so many others—fades away, too.

When you are five summers old, you have to say goodbye to Brella.

All the while you are breaking your fast, she looks like she is about to start crying. Even though you wonder why, you don’t ask. When someone cries, it means that something bad has happened. So much bad has already happened, and you don’t know if you want to hear any more. You eat in quiet, scooping porridge into your mouth while the sound of sniffles fills the room. The taste of honey would make you feel happy, but not when Brella is so upset. Your food sinks to the bottom of your belly like one of the hot bricks you sometimes get under your blankets when it’s very cold at night, only there’s nothing nice about it. It’s hard and rough and makes you feel sick.

After you have finished every bite—you have to eat all of it, or you don’t get to play—Brella takes you by the hand and leads you to the chair. “There is… there is something I have to tell you,” she says, slow and shaky.

I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. You wish that you were like ’Nyra, that you could say the words out loud—but you cannot. You don’t want to know, but you say nothing, and you wait for whatever bad thing is coming to show itself.

“I…” Brella swallows and looks down at your hands, still holding onto each other even though you are sitting and there is no need. “Tell me again how old you are, princess.”

“Five.” It’s a very small number, but you are still proud because you’re almost a big girl now.

Brella laughs, nodding. “That’s right. Five. My goodness. How time flies!”

You find that silly. Time doesn’t fly. It isn’t a thing-you-can-touch, and only things-you-can-touch can fly, like dragons or birds or insects. Still, you try not to show your thinking on your face as Brella squeezes your hand tighter.

“Being five summers old is a very important milestone when you’re a prince or princess,” she says. “Do you know why?”

“No,” you say. “Why?”

Here, she stops. “It… It means—gods, I don’t know if I can say it.”

“Well, then. It appears that I must,” comes a voice from the door.

You turn. Septa Marlow stands with her hands joined in front of her, her mouth pinched into a line so small it is like it has disappeared from her face. Her grey wimple makes her skin look just as colourless. She steps forward, and the sound of her shoes touching the ground seems as loud as thunder.

“You are of an age to begin your lessons, princess. Thus, it is time for your nurse”—she looks at Brella and her lip curls, though you cannot tell if she’s happy or angry—“to depart, and for me to take over your care.”

The sick feeling gets worse, and you wonder if you might bring up all your food from how bad the pains are in your belly. “But—but Brella will still stay, though? For Aegon and Helaena?”

Septa Marlow huffs. “There is no need, silly child. Their nurse has already been appointed, and Gwenys will suffice for any future children borne by the queen. Brella is to collect her things and return to the Vale.”

Brella has taught you some of the places on the map that shows Papa’s kingdom. You live in King’s Landing, which is in the Crownlands, and it is at the bottom of the map. The Vale is where Mother—Mother, not Mama, Mama is for babies and I am not a baby anymore, you have to keep telling yourself—came from, that it is a bit up and to the side from the Crownlands. It isn’t that far in the drawings, but Brella says that maps show a smaller picture of what is really a very, very long distance.

If Brella has to return to the Vale, it means she will be very, very far away.

You think you might be frozen, like ice. You cannot say anything. All that you can think, over and over, is no, no, no, please, not Brella, no, no, no. The fire-burn of tears warms behind your eyes, but you know that you cannot let Septa see you cry. She’ll think you are weak.

Brella sniffles. “I can write to you,” she says, pulling you closer to her. “And, when you’re old enough, you can write to me. How about that?”

You nod, but her words don’t make you feel better. Paper isn’t the same as a person, not really. Even if she puts letters on paper and sends them to you, it won’t be like one of her hugs or the way she laughs when you miss a dance step or fall over in the grass. It won’t smell like her or look like her. It won’t make you feel safe like she does.

She will turn not-real like Mother. Only, maybe it is worse—because you’ll know that, somewhere a long way away from you, she will be real, but that you cannot have her anymore.

“I don’t want you to go,” is what you say, but it comes out like a whisper, not strong like you wanted it to.

“I know, my darling,” Brella says, hugging you tight so that you can feel her heart beating through her skin and yours. “I know, and I’m so sorry—”

“If you could unhand my charge, nurse.” Septa’s eyebrow is raised. “Although—now that it occurs to me—‘nurse’ is no longer the appropriate moniker, is it?”

Brella glares at her. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Your time here is at an end.” Even though she looks like she’s trying not to show her feelings, Septa lifts her chin in the air like ’Nyra used to when she would win at cyvasse against Alicent. “Say your goodbyes.”

“What—here? Now?” Brella’s mouth is open like she’s very surprised. “I’d thought the princess would be coming to see me off at the harb—”

“That is not a good idea. She is too… attached.” Septa says it like it is a curse. “A public display of histrionics does not a respectable princess make, no matter her juvenility.” You have no idea what most of these words mean, but the way they make Brella sink in her seat cannot be a good thing.

She tucks your hair behind your ears as she looks down at you, her eyes wet. “Be good,” she says, very soft so that Septa cannot hear them well. “Make sure you write to me, yes?”

She brushes her thumbs over your cheeks—out, in, out, in—the way she does when she really means ‘I love you’.

“Please stay,” you whisper, trying not to let your lower lip wobble like it wants to so badly. “Please don’t go.”

Brella hugs you again, her whole body shaking. Your face is smushed up against her shoulder, the smell of her herness filling your nose with so much warm. You wonder if, by clinging on tight, you can stop her from leaving. She cannot leave. She is what you have left now that Mam—Mother is gone, now that Papa has Alicent and ’Nyra has Papa and Uncle has his war somewhere away from you. She cannot leave. She cannot.

It feels like she has been holding on for forever and also for no time at all when she lets go, stands up, and walks away without a word. The door shuts.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Is it worse or better, watching her go away? you wonder through the cold that settles in your body, in your arms and legs, the sharpness of it so much that you feel like shivering even though the sun is shining hot outside. You never saw Mother die. She was here, and then she wasn’t. But you have to watch Brella leave, knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it all the while.

“Dry your tears, girl. ‘Tis about time your coddling came to an end.” Septa pulls you by the shoulder off the chair. Her hand doesn’t feel warm like Brella’s does. Her stare—fixed on you—travels up and down, her mouth crinkling at the corner like she is thinking about something. “Why she was allowed to linger past your name day, I will never understand.”

You cannot think of anything to say, so you keep quiet. It doesn’t seem to make Septa like you any more than she did before, which you don’t think was very much. The tears keep falling, though you try and try to make them disappear.

“Now,” she says, clapping her hands sharply. The loudness of the noise makes you jump. Teardrops shake onto your dress. “We have a long day ahead of us. The queen has requested an update on your progress, so you will be learning no less than three hymns before the end of the sennight. I should like to provide her with”—she looks you up and down again, and this time it seems like she is thinking something unkind about you—“some indication that you will shape up to be a lady of high standing.”

‘I’m a princess, not a lady,’ you want to say. You don’t.

Septa begins striding away, then stops and turns around to face you. “I expect you to follow when I walk, and to acknowledge me when I speak by saying ‘Yes, Septa Marlow’.” She almost spits the words at you. “Understood?”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” It doesn’t sound as strong or as clear as when she said it. You wish you could sound less afraid. Still, she seems to find it good enough. She says nothing afterward, just waits for you to trail along after her.

“Hmph.” She clicks her tongue. Staring down at you again, she adds, “And stand up straight.”

You do as you’re told.

Septa Marlow is as frightfully mean as you always feared.

One thing you learn quickly is that everything you do and say is wrong. When you laugh, it is too unbecoming; when you smile, you show too much teeth; when you walk, you are too hunched over; when you eat, you are too gluttonous. You’re a simpleton when you ask to play with your dolls, so they sit at the foot of your bed slowly being covered by dust; you’re graceless when you try to dance, so you practice after you have been put to bed to try and get better before each morning; you’re impertinent when you say what you’re thinking instead of keeping it to yourself, so you learn to let your thoughts stay inside your head. There is little that she doesn’t pick on and tell you that you need to change.

“Use full words, please!” she says whenever you forget to speak in the proper way that she expects. She always raps her willow switch on the table in front of you after that. Lucky for you, she has not yet used it to hurt you. “It is ‘does not’, not ‘doesn’t’. There is no need to employ such low-class mannerisms as a lady of your standing!”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” There is no point trying to tell her that she’s wrong.

It isn’t all bad, though. Having Septa Marlow take over means that you are now expected to learn all sorts of things, and a lot of it is very interesting. New words, new houses, new hymns, new dances—you start to learn how to sew, how to put letters together to read them, how to count numbers and add and take them away to make different numbers. Septa says that there are so many things a noblewoman like you needs to be able to do by the time she is ready to be married, so that she can run her husband’s household and take care of him and her future children. That is a long time from now, but practice makes perfect.

The only time you are not with Septa is when you are with your family, like today.

Because Aegon has lived past being a baby—and Septa says that babies die a lot from the weather or from being sick or from being fed too much or too little or sometimes for no reason at all—Papa has announced that everyone must go on a hunt to celebrate his name day. You have to sit in the wheelhouse with he and Alicent and ’Nyra and Aegon and three other nurses, but not Helaena. She’s only a baby still, so she must stay in the keep with Gwenys.

It is not a very fun ride. Being in a wheelhouse with them all means putting ’Nyra very close to Alicent, whose belly has grown big with a baby again. Lots of people have lots to say about how many babies Alicent has had since she married Papa, and most of it is not very nice towards your mother. She could only have two girls, and it took her a long time to have you after ’Nyra.

Papa thinks there is another boy in Alicent’s belly. You hope not. Aegon is loud and rude. You think it might be worse if there were two of him instead of just one.

“… whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the kingswood,” Papa is saying. You swing your legs back and forth, though you must stop each time you roll over a big bump in the road. You stay quiet, because Septa says a lady does not talk unless she is asked a question.

A very big bump in the road makes Alicent’s smile fall.

“Should you be travelling in such condition?” ’Nyra asks. She sounds worried, even though she is no longer friends with Alicent.

“The maester said that being out in nature would do me well,” is what Alicent says back.

Papa starts talking while he finishes giving Aegon a sip from his cup. You wonder if it’s wine. “Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late, and make me a proud grandsire.” He is smiling, perhaps at the thought of it.

‘No, I will not,’ the look on ’Nyra’s face seems to say. You cannot help but agree with her. Having babies seems like such a tiring thing to do.

“It’s not so bad.” Alicent has to speak louder to be heard over the rattling of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the horses. “The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss. Helaena, too.”

The nurse who is holding Aegon in her lap—Delia, you think her name is—waves a toy dragon in front of him. He smacks at it with his hands, frowning. You would never treat your toys like that.

“You should ride out with me today,” Papa says to ’Nyra. “Join in the chase, while you”—his eyes go to you—“sit about with your lady stepmother. Hm?”

“Okay, Papa,” you say quietly. Proper ladies do what their fathers tell them to.

’Nyra’s hand finds yours. “I’d rather not. The boars squeal like children when they’re being slaughtered.” From the way her fingers squeeze yours and her stare fixes on Aegon, you know she doesn’t mean you when she says that. “I find it discomfiting.”

“It’s a hunt, Rhaenyra.” Papa smiles. It is a careful sort of smile, not a happy one. Aegon’s yell distracts him for a moment, but he is quick to return to speaking to ’Nyra. “How would you like to participate?” he asks her.

“I’d be leaving my sister alone with the vultures of the realm,” ’Nyra says, “so I’m not sure why I must.”

Trying to understand what everyone means by what they say is very difficult—you aren’t sure if she’s saying that the ladies coming along are vultures, or if she’s trying to say Alicent is. You don’t even know what a vulture is, so you aren’t sure if it is a bad or good thing to be.

“Because you are my eldest daughter. The princess.” Papa looks like he is finding it harder and harder to stop himself from telling ’Nyra off. “And you have duties.”

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” Your sister says it softly, but it is easy enough for you to hear from your place next to her.

Papa doesn’t, though. “I’m sorry?”

Instead of making up a lie or saying that she did not say anything at all, ’Nyra repeats herself louder. It is terribly rude, but you enjoy watching as you have always enjoyed watching her being brave against other people. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.”

“You wouldn’t need to be reminded if you ever attended to them.”

“No one’s here for me!”

Papa doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Neither does Alicent. They both just fall silent along with the nurses. Even Aegon stops making all his annoying noises, instead sitting so still that he could be sleeping if his eyes were not open.

You make sure to hold onto your sister’s hand even tighter. If there is anyone in the whole world who does know what to say, it is you. If only you were brave enough.

‘I understand, ’Nyra,’ you want to say. ‘No one’s here for me, either. No one’s ever here for me.’

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[eosofspades]

now this one i recognize might be more specific to me, since i do tend to uniquely fixate and focus on the writing of a show/movie i'm watching and can pick up on it a lot quicker than most other people i'm watching with, just bc i have a ton of practice & knowledge of it - but a thing that's been kind of nagging at me is that i feel like i'm way, way more... aware of the writing in arcane season 2?

in s1, and this is VERY rare for me, i never once actively thought about the writing, except for in certain scenes when lots of pieces fell into place and i was thinking "THIS IS SO WELL WRITTEN," but even then i had to wait until AFTER i had finished watching and taken time to gather my thoughts and go back and re-watch and analyze. i was SO hooked by the story and it never felt like something i'd seen a bunch before, and the story was so good that i was entirely focused on the characters. whereas in season 2, i kept finding myself thinking "oh, this is happening because the writers need to show xyz, or this is happening to create x moment later down the line," and just like. idk i'm AWARE of it in a way that i wasn't before and i feel like it's kinda pulling some of the joy from the watching experience. in both cases, you know where the story is going, but in season 1 it's a "this was an unavoidable tragedy" way, vs in season 2 it feels like a more predictable way. it feels a little more formulaic? idk. it's bugging me though.

for an example i mean, like, in s2e1 when noxus shows up and saves them from the attack on the memorial, i actively thought "okay, this is because the writers are emphasizing just how powerful and militaristic noxus is as a nation and how strong their warriors are, and really trying to make the audience get WHY ambessa is someone that people look to as a symbol of strength, and you're supposed to understand that this admiration is why she also has political influence."

so, like. on the one hand, yeah cool lots of GOOD writing stuff in there, it is EFFECTIVE in what it's doing, but i'm also really AWARE of what it's doing, and that it's TRYING to do it, in a way that i wasn't in season 1 at any point. and again i know this might be at least partially because this is a me thing (special interest of analyzing narrative devices/functions and storytelling optimized for meaning) BUT. does anyone else get this thing i'm saying? does anyone else feel this about season 2?

[misc-obeyme]

Hey cc

So in the vampire pop quiz I think it was Dia who said something very interesting "looks like they are fixated on mc because mc is the manifestation of their desires" now that did align well with my effort to understand why would all 7 of them be this obsessed lol

Anyway in my head mc goes like guys that's just my idea of how a proper human should be lol pretty sure if any other human ended up here who kinda like hot demons you all would be obsessed about that human too

Anyway, can I request a drabble about this kind of mc not insecure, just not understanding why mc deserving all this attention

Barb would be interesting to drabble about this since it took him sooooo looooong to open up to mc a bit

happy to see you are still having fun with Barbs thirst trap 😎

-🐆

Hi there, 🐆 anon! I apologize for the delay on this - it's been taking me a little longer than I anticipated to get through the drabble requests...

Augh the Barbatos shower picture is going to be the death of me, I swear. I'm still thinking about a nsfw drabble based on one of his lines lkasdfkjfj it's a problem, I swear.

Anyway, here's a Barb drabble with MC not getting why the demons are obsessed with them! I thought it was a cute little scenario. And Barb is just being super romantic as always lol. I can't help it, I am but a humble fluff writer.

Barbatos could see it on your face - a subtle expression that the others might not pick up on. It told him the story of how you were trying your best to hide your own confusion. It was something that happened every time one of the brothers complimented you, when they fought over you, when they expressed this need to always be near you. A slight furrow of your brow, the tiniest downturn of your lips, the fleeting uncertainty that flashed through your eyes.

Ever since your first day in the Devildom, Barbatos had seen this look. He was always watching you. The more he did, the more it became clear to him that you didn't understand why everyone seemed to think there was something special about you.

Perhaps he waited too long. Perhaps he should have mentioned it to you sooner. But you didn't seem distressed. All he ever saw was bafflement. So he let it be for quite some time. Until he finally found himself alone with you when it displayed itself.

Barbatos had been pouring you a cup of tea as he heard about the brothers' latest antics. You were telling him that they had been arguing over who got to work with you on an upcoming school project.

"And then Levi got involved and I had to calm everybody down before Lotan was summoned," you said.

You were looking down at the table, your mind clearly elsewhere, when that expression flashed across your face.

Barbatos put down the teapot. "Does it make you uncomfortable, MC? When they argue over you this way?"

You met his eyes, seemingly startled by his question. "No," you said. "It's a little silly, but it doesn't make me uncomfortable. Why do you ask?"

"It's only that I've noticed the look of confusion you sometimes have in moments like these," Barbatos said. "As if there's something that troubles you about it."

You frowned in thought for a moment. "I guess I just don't understand why they care so much? Why do they think I deserve this much attention? I just act like a regular human would. Why are they so… obsessed?"

Barbatos chuckled. "Do you truly not see? This is exactly what makes you so fascinating."

"I don't know what you mean," you said.

"Despite being a totally unique individual, you still believe you are ordinary," Barbatos said gently. "I have been alive for a long time, MC. I have met many humans. No two are alike. You are not 'regular' because there is no such thing. You are yourself and that is why we love you."

Barbatos was pleased to see that confused look replaced by a soft blush. "You…?" you couldn't finish your question.

Barbatos took your hand and kissed the back of it. "Indeed," he said. "Even I have fallen under your spell. I will remind you of how special you are for the rest of your life if I must."

You laughed, a little taken aback. "I don't think that's going to be necessary."

Barbatos only smiled, your hand still clasped in his. He was content to see such a soft and sweet expression on your face, a glint of happiness in your eyes. Despite what you said, if he ever did see that confusion there again, he would do everything he could to bring your smile back instead.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Now Playing: Falling in Love

[Leviathan - Maybe, Just Maybe]

Pairing: Leviathan x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Who would've thought Leviathan will find such connection with someone one day? Certainly not him.

A/N: Mmmmm the third installment is here!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Ngl, I kinda struggled writing this despite considering myself a Levi kinnie 😭

Special mentions to my moots who likes Levi, @cloudcountry, @officialdaydreamer00 and @amberheavendremurr. I hope you guys like this :D

Now Playing: Falling in Love playlist

MASTERLIST

"I'm afraid of the things in my brain,

But we can stay here and laugh away the fears."

Levi finds you odd.

Sure, you were strange for a human, but what he's weirded out the most was the fact that you've been hanging out with him a lot.

Not that it's a bad thing. In fact, he now surprisingly enjoys your presence compared to when you two first met.

He just finds it odd that out of the seven demons you were living with, you chose to stick with him. After all, he's not as cool as Lucifer, as charismatic as Asmo, as smart as Satan and Belphie, or as friendly as Beel. Heck, even Mammon has more social charm than he is, despite being a scumbag.

So why in the three worlds are you here, choosing him, instead of them?

Maybe you just find a weird otaku like him fascinating?

Yes, that's probably it, the voice in his head says. It's just a one-time fixation and your attention will soon divert to something else once you've scratched your curiosity.

.

.

.

"What?"

You gave him a confused look, the video game you were playing completely forgotten. He absent-mindedly asked the question while the two of you were in the middle of gaming.

"I- uh..."

He already asked, so he might as well...

"I-I'm just curious... I'm not as interesting as my brothers, and my interests can be hard to understand sometimes, so... why do you hang out with me so much?"

Silence filled the space between you, and every second of it filled him with dread.

"Levi."

Your soft voice broke the tense quietness.

"Y-yes?"

"Look at me... please?"

It took a while before he turned to look at you, although he still struggled to look you in the eyes.

"Levi, I don't think you're uninteresting compared to your brothers. In fact, you're far from it."

You reached out to take his hand, but not before looking back to him. When he didn't move, you took it as a sign and placed your hand on top of his. You continued.

"You are the most creative and passionate person I have ever met in my life. Sure, I may not understand the things that you're into sometimes, but I love hearing you talk about them. Because that means I get to know you more, even if just a little bit."

"...Y-you're just saying that to be nice, aren't you?"

Please, don't get my hopes up any longer if you don't really mean it.

You shook your head.

"Levi, I meant everything I said. So please believe me when I say that you are just as wonderful as your brothers. And even though you don't, I will be here to tell you how amazing you are," you say, gently squeezing his hand.

Finally, he took the courage to look you in the eyes, searching for any hints of insincerity. There were none.

And as he continued to stare, a new voice in his mind spoke.

Maybe, just maybe... he could believe you, even if just a little bit.

[azulonso]

Good Luck

A Valentine's Day special with lesbian!rosquez (funny cause it's 15th already) AO3 ver.

It was late saturday night, several hours right after qualifying. Most riders and their teams had gone to their own motorhomes. But for some unknown reasons, Marcia found herself sitting alone outside, staring into the night sky. There was a race tomorrow, but she couldn't bring herself to rest, well she was about to before a familiar voice greeted her.

"Oh still here?"

It was Vale. Valentina. The Valentina Rossi. The Doctor. Her Idol? Her crush or whatever feeling Marcia couldn't sort out towards her. Not important right now anyways.

"Ah yes, I'm about to head back though," she replied.

Liar you would trade the world to have an alone moment with her.

Valentina looked at her and pulled a face, her typical expression, "Well then I'm not going to disturb your beautiful alone time right now so–"

"Wait no nevermind I can spare 10 minutes, or more." The words just slipped right through Marcia's tongue. What are you even thinking about.

The older rider's face above her brightened up and settled her position to sit right beside Marcia, leaving only a centimeter between their fingers now.

"Congratulations on the pole, by the way." said Valentina casually, gaze fixated on whatever is in front of them, Marcia didn't know, she was staring at the ground, thinking if she ever saved the world in her previous life in return to have Valentina congratulating her. It wasn't a special one actually, not a home race, just another race she determined to win.

"Thanks," that was all she could replied her with.

"Do you know what date today is?" Valentina tried to change the topic again.

"It's February 14th, Valentine's day yeah I know."

Well of course Marcia knew, Alex had promised her that she would spend the day with her since what else do you need a sibling for? But that was before her younger sister canceled their plan out from nowhere, unlikely from her but Marcia let her go anyway.

"Then are you not spending it with someone? A boyfriend perhaps? Or a girlfriend?" The Italian asked again, with more emphasis on the last three words. She was looking at Marcia now.

Well if I get to choose I would spend it with you idiot.

"I'm just... not in a relationship right now," she replied.

"Eh of course, the future world champion couldn't have anything bothering her way huh?"

"Learnt it from the best."

Her last response earned a chuckle from the other. Marcia had gathered enough courage to look back at Valentina now. She's really beautiful upclose. A little bit annoying on track but they shared that one trait.

"Would you be interested?" Valentina asked again.

"Sorry, in what?" Marcia was too lost in the ocean blue eyes in front of her.

"Being in a relationship, dating, I mean."

Before Marcia got the time to reply, Valentina stood up and started checking her pants' pocket, trying to find something. Then she pulled out something, kept it in her hand, so Marcia couldn't catch a hint.

She walked over a bit, stopped right in front of the younger rider, then crouched down to make them face to face. Marcia felt her face heating up, her heart started beating faster. What trick is Vale trying to play on her? Seriously.

"Give me your hand and close your eyes," she asked.

Confused, still Marcia followed her instructions. She could feel Vale's excitement buzzing and the warmth of her hand on hers. Valentina had put something on her hand, it was pretty light.

"You can open your eyes."

The first thing she saw was a four-leaf clover on her hand. That was why it felt so light. Cute. Cliche, just like Valentina. The second thing was the giver in question looking at her, waiting for a reaction.

"Oh thank you, where did u even find the time to get this?"

"I have my ways, thought it'll bring me some luck tomorrow but I think you need it more than me."

The Spaniard raised her eyebrow, amused.

"Or if you don't believe in those, take it as a valentine's gift from me. I'd be happy to afford more for someone who is as pretty as you but I came unprepared here," she continued.

Her crush Idol had called her pretty, Marcia could die happily right now. Wait nevermind, there is still a race to win. Another thing she realized was that Valentina did search up for her.

"Well I guess that was all I've got, I have to come back before Uccio gets my ass," she said as she stood up again.

"Wait–" Marcia grabbed Valentina's left hand, diverting the other's attention to her again. "–I just want to say thank you, again, and good luck for the race. It was nice, uh, talking to you."

"You know, you are a really interesting person," Valentina said as she moved her hand from Marcia's grasp, softly touching the younger's cheek with her palm, causing Marcia to raise her head more to look at her. The view was truly a sight to see from Valentina's eyes.

The next thing that got out of Valentina's mouth was unexpected for them both, not like they were not wanting and were practically waiting for it.

"May I kiss you?"

Valentina could see the surprised look from Marcia's eyes under her. She nodded slowly, "yes–, yes please," and that was all she had to say before Marcia stood as she felt Valentina's lips against hers, soft. The kiss deepened as Valentina worked her hands to wrap them around Marcia's waist.

She tasted weird, a mix of bubblegum, almost-expired-canned-beer, and others Marcia couldn't recognize. She tasted like– Valentina. And that felt right.

Their gazes were still on each other as they pulled apart, unsure of the next step to take. They knew that they don't want the night to just end here.

"Are you leaving already?" Marcia asked, hoping that Valentina would change her previous plan.

But how could she leave? When she had a literal goddess looking at her with such eagerness, in her arms.

"No I think I have a better plan for us. Say, my place and then I take you out for the most romantic breakfast ever in the morning?" Valentina suggested, as if it didn't mean they were going to eat a reheated pasta she had in her motorhome's fridge. Well Marcia would say yes to anything from her anyways. She nodded, "Then it's settled," said the Italian with a smile.

They walked towards Valentina's motorhome then, hand in hand. And as they headed to sleep, Marcia put the four-leaf clover on the bedstand beside her. Valentina noticed, "I think I have used all my life's luck already."

Marcia just grinned at her, "Well I can share mine with you, if you really worry about it." She laid on the bed as the older held her closer.

"The clover works then, I know you would believe me."

More like Marcia would believe in anything Valentina say, which probably can be applied for the opposite too.

"This might be the best Valentine's I've ever experienced, thank you Vale," Marcia said but she heard no response. Then she noticed that Valentina had drifted off to sleep. She's even more beautiful like this, Marcia planted a kiss on the other's forehead and pulled the blanket to cover them up nicely. Tonight is perfect.

[robertwaltons]

i am not immune to blasting my favourite characters with the neurodivergent beam — i think there is something very comforting about a character from a book written long before these things were understood (at least with the vocabulary we have today) articulating things about themselves that you can see something of yourself in

with that in mind, let me take you on a journey where i explain in far more detail than probably necessary

Why Captain Robert Walton from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus (1818) has ADHD (in my non-professional neurodivergent opinion)!

i’ll be going through some common ADHD symptoms and presenting evidence from the text to demonstrate how Walton, in his own representation of himself, can be interpreted as displaying these traits

let's go!!

— INATTENTIVENESS AND FOCUS

Walton has a strong and active imagination, and seems prone to excessive daydreaming and letting his mind wander, even becoming distracted by sensory input (the sublime beauty of nature, lol):

Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid.

He feels that he is set apart by his own manner of thinking, that his mind is in need of "regulation":

Now I am twenty-eight and am in reality more illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more and that my daydreams are more extended and magnificent, but they want (as the painters call it) keeping; and I greatly need a friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind.

The "keeping" that Shelley refers to is artistic terminology meaning

The maintenance of the proper relation between the representations of nearer and more distant objects in a picture; [...] the maintenance of harmony of composition. (X)

I would interpret Walton's meaning here to be that he understands his thoughts to be somewhat "all over the place" or lacking practicality; he is aware that he has an overzealous and ambitious personality, and requires a sense of harmony (ideally, in the form of an understanding friend) who will keep him focused.

Even Victor comments on Walton seeming to become impatient with him or lose focus during his own tangent:

Victor: But I forget that I am moralizing in the most interesting part of my tale, and your looks remind me to proceed.

(adhd bitches be like let me infodump my entire brain at you and tell you seven unrelated stories before getting to the point but the SECOND someone else goes off topic it's so over)

Walton's inattentiveness is best demonstrated by his lack of concentration on things like his education in favour of his interests when he was a boy:

My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night[...]

and speaking of!

— HYPERFIXATIONS

I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquillise the mind as a steady purpose—a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.

^ me when i will go insane if i don't have my silly little Topics to obsess over. this guy gets it

Walton is clearly influenced heavily by his fixations; polar exploration and his "passionate enthusiasm for the dangerous mysteries of ocean" are lifelong special interests for him. He refers to his voyage as "the favourite dream of my early years", and also developed a love for poetry from a young age:

[...] for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas’ books of voyages. At that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country;

When he is forbidden for pursuing a seafaring life by his father, and in doing so prevented from indulging his main interests, Walton becomes fixated solely on literature, attempting to become a poet himself:

These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those poets whose effusions entranced my soul and lifted it to heaven. I also became a poet and for one year lived in a paradise of my own creation; I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated.

Interestingly, when he fails to achieve his literary goal, his attention seemingly switches seamlessly back to his previous interests when he is finally given the opportunity to pursue them - jumping between hyperfixations in search of dopamine is often experienced by many with ADHD:

You are well acquainted with my failure and how heavily I bore the disappointment. But just at that time I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my thoughts were turned into the channel of their earlier bent.

Walton claims that he is “practically industrious—painstaking, a workman to execute with perseverance and labour” but this mostly seems applicable when he can hyperfocus on tasks that are stimulating to him and related to his interests - for example, when he prepares for his voyage while working on whaling ships:

I often worked harder than the common sailors during the day and devoted my nights to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer might derive the greatest practical advantage.

— HYPERACTIVITY, IMPULSIVITY AND RESTLESSNESS

i mean. i think most people would consider sailing off to explore as-yet unknown and extremely dangerous parts of the world completely of your own volition impulsive no matter how long you've been planning to do it

Even so, Walton seems to display a reduced sense of danger even upon "the commencement of an enterprise which you [Margaret] have regarded with such evil forebodings":

These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river.

Walton's hyperactivity can be seen in his innate restlessness and never wanting to feel “settled” or too comfortable:

My life might have been passed in ease and luxury, but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path.

His wanderlust drives him forward, literally physically sending him to places very few have ever been:

[...] there is a love for the marvellous, a belief in the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me out of the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and unvisited regions I am about to explore.

To me, this line indicates that Walton has an awareness of his own overwhelming eagerness (and tbh this is also how I would describe what my own ADHD feels like sometimes):

I am too ardent in execution and too impatient of difficulties.

Walton also seems prone to excessive talking and infodumping, demonstrated even by the act of sending his sister such long and detailed letters in the first place. He is a grade A yapper and that is why we even have the story in the first place!

My favourite evidence of this is when Walton is so taken by the romantic story of his ship's master that he derails his entire letter to his sister to tell her about it, saying:

This, briefly, is his story.

Reader: the story was not brief.

My swelling heart involuntarily pours itself out thus.

you don't say!

— POOR PLANNING AND PRIORITISATION

Despite committing himself to his voyage for six years and having thought of it for much longer, Walton doesn't seem to have uh. much of an actual concrete plan:

I do not intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall I return? Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this question? If I succeed, many, many months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet. If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never.

In relation to this, let me just leave this extract from Jessica Richard's article '“A paradise of my own creation”: Frankenstein and the improbable romance of polar exploration' here:

Shelley subtly indicates Walton’s incompetence as an expedition leader (despite his extensive reading and apprenticeships on Greenland whaling vessels) when she has him begin his journey on a rather late date, July 7th. Whether Walton is simply a poor planner, or, as Frankenstein himself fears, he “share[s] my madness,” a departure date so late in the season all but dooms his enterprise to failure from the outset. (p. 299)

ouch!

He seems to have little awareness of this aspect of his personality; he assures his sister that:

I shall do nothing rashly: you know me sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the safety of others is committed to my care.

Yet to Victor, he describes:

how gladly I would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope, to the furtherance of my enterprise. One man’s life or death were but a small price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I sought[...]

Not only does he neglect his duties as captain to care for Victor, even while his ship is imperilled by pack ice…

Thus has a week passed away, while I have listened to the strangest tale that ever imagination formed. My thoughts and every feeling of my soul have been drunk up by the interest for my guest which this tale and his own elevated and gentle manners have created.

… he is highly averse to abandoning his voyage even when his crew threatens mutiny:

We were immured in ice and should probably never escape, but they feared that if, as was possible, the ice should dissipate and a free passage be opened, I should be rash enough to continue my voyage and lead them into fresh dangers, after they might happily have surmounted this. They insisted, therefore, that I should engage with a solemn promise that if the vessel should be freed I would instantly direct my course southwards. This speech troubled me. I had not despaired, nor had I yet conceived the idea of returning if set free.

oh robert........

— EMOTIONAL DYSREGULATION AND SOCIAL DIFFICULTIES

This seems to be a persistent issue for Walton; he continually refers to the fluctuation of his own emotions and his inability to regulate them on his own:

My courage and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often depressed.

I have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection.

He is deeply desirous of understanding and community with others, but is left feeling lonely and like an outsider, having difficulty connecting with most people including the men he sails with:

A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste to the usual brutality exercised on board ship:

Walton implies that he is insecure of aspects of his personality, and is in need of external validation and someone to “sympathise with and love” him:

How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother!

Lastly, this line appears in the 1831 version of the novel only but it is one that, for me, ties together a lot of the book's themes especially with regard to neurodiversity and is generally one of the most affecting for me personally for that reason:

There is something at work in my soul which I do not understand.

me too, buddy. me too

aaaaaaaand that's all(!) i have to say for now

most of this is really just based on my own experiences and traits (am i projecting? absolutely. but am i correct? also yes) and just my own interpretation and i’m sure i’ve left out SO much but i had fun putting my hyperfix spinterest hat on and hopefully it was interesting to read! let me know your thoughts!

[tireddovahkiin]

Guys theres something very weird and big going on I just HAVE to rant (again) bc im starting to get a bit confused and concerned (in a good way)

So, as you all know, I'm currently VERY hyperfixated on Metal Gear, but I haven't really talked just HOW much did the whole experience of that game affected me.

Because... holy shit, did it affect me. Did this game change me in a way I never expected. I never saw THIS level of autism before for something LMFAO☠️

Here are some examples. Whenever I just THINK about Metal Gear just in general, just "admire" the game, it's characters, it's story, the soundtrack, it's motives and lessons you learn behind them, it's community, it fills me with this excitement... Immense joy, that makes my fucking heart rate speed up. I can barely contain it, it seethes inside me like a mass of butterflies desparately wanting to get out.

And when I look at the fanart, the memes, anything related to it, I cannot contain this bubbling happiness inside me, I start squealing and kicking my feet like a highschool girl crushing HARD💩

Metal Gear now lives in my head rent free for 24/7😭 I'm SO invested in that shit, I literally want to write down the ENTIRE detailed lore and organize it on a paper, then literally learn it from START TO FINISH. (And when I say it's complicated, not even the true OG fans can explain it in the correct order to the newbies.)

Everything about it gives me comfort, gives me inspiration, motivation, anything positive that comes to your mind.

NO game EVER has made me feel like this. No, fix that.

Nothing EVER has made me feel this way, except my most important f/os. But still, not to THIS level. Literally.

Except maybe TES IV: Skyrim, but that was when I was just a kid, which was a long time ago. This feels so special, so EXCEPTIONAL. It actually... changed me in a way😭? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT URRRGHHH

I'm SO SO SO SO glad this game found me oh my GOD... Guys i fucking ADORE Metal Gear. This brainrot is insane, it's so powerful, it's EATING ME ALIVE FROM INSIDE OUT. Like, I'm GENUINELY TWEAKING OVER HERE AS I'M WRITING THIS. SHAKING FROM EXCITEMENT.

(Is this a clear symptom of autism? Bc I don't even know anymore🤧)

What's even more interesting, I'm not even done with discovering and learning about the whole lore! I watched the first Metal Gear Solid game, second, third, and fourth, and I'm currently on the fifth, Phantom Pain. And even AFTER that, I have to watch Metal Gear Rising. (which is a spin off fixated on another side character, Raiden, but still important to the MGS storyline.) I dunno how many parts does Metal Gear Rising have, but I'll find out. AND not only that, we will have a Remake of the third game coming this August! SQUEEEEE IM SO HAPPIHAPPIHAPPI- *vibrates*

This game made me feel every emotion possible: happiness sadness (MGS 4 IM LOOKING AT YOU), anger, absolute flabbergasting shock, nervousness, fear, awe, horny i mean what o-o

Yall know what I'm most scared about? Do you know that empty feeling of coming to an end with something that changed you as a person? That is now a very very special place in your heart? Ah yes, post-game/movie/series depression.🥲 nothing worse than that.

I'm scared that the post Metal Gear depression is gonna hit HARD. And I mean HARD. I'm already halfway through the whole thing, I think? And I don't want it to end??? I DON'T WANT IT TO STOP- WAAAAA MOMMYYYYYYYY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Imagining myself finishing it all and then grabbing a paper bag and huffing through it as crisis begins to overtake me- /hj

RAAAAAAAGHHHH METAL GEEEEAAARRRRRRR

Anyways, yeah, sorry for such a long post, but thank you for coming to my Metal Gear ted talk :3 if you actually read this far then I love you sm mwah /p

[spork-supremacy]

saw a post about how cliquey the fandom can be, can’t find it for the life of me to reblog but thought I’d share some observations I’ve had over the years of basically being a ghost on here. Granted this is less on behaviour and more on how we can section ourselves naturally.

I find that the bigger the fandom the easier it is for it to get divided into little subsections, especially if it has a lot of content in season variation, characters, and location. Ninjago is a very big prime example of this with around 17 seasons, 2 specials and the pilots, many with themes attached to them. there’s a lot that you could cling onto and make it your one big focus on the show.

It also has a giant cast especially when you include roles that are either small or season specific, once I just tried to see how many I could name alone from memory and I got a little over sixty and I’m sure there’s more. When it comes to location we don’t have too much in mainland Ninjago that begs to be further explored considering most people we actually take notice in live in the main city. But add in the 15 other realms and we have a whole host of interesting locations to explore.

To circle back to characters we also have a lot in our main cast, with a standard of six ninja, now three students, and if you still want to count Pixal, Misako and Wu because you are in denial, and Garmadon’s two season stint in the title sequence, we have 13 who’s been included in the main cast at some point , creating multiple dynamics we can work with and latch onto.for me personally I have always gravitated to the Jay focused side of the fandom because that was where I was most comfortable, looking over character studies, art, headcanons, general Jaya stuff because I have a favourite ship dammit, and skybound analysis because despite how strange of a season it was it was also somehow my comfort season, my favourite one I dare say. I admit it was mainly because I didn’t really think about themes and subtext back in the day and just always loved a romance heavy season of anything. I was simple sue me.

But now I love it because as much as I don’t wish to admit it I can see a lot of myself in early seasons Jay, not necessarily a good thing but watching him grow out of specific negative behaviours helped me to do so myself. With the season itself it’s just fun to pick it apart and notice what exactly was so off to me when I was younger.

And something like this can apply to everyone in the fandom, which is why they stick to their own corners, because that’s where they’re most comfortable. They may stick to a character like Lloyd because he has a lot of angst attached to him to play around with, or someone like dare that because he’s a completely comedic character and prime for crack scenarios, or Nya because of her journey of self discovery. There are definitely still people obsessing over SOG or TOE, or possession. And what I do see is people happy to share their thoughts on their own “fixation season” as I call it.

This is at least how I sort pretty much all media in my own brain and I think it’s kinda neat how the internet can work like it. With a whole branching system that if you take certain doors can have you starting off in the surface entirety of the show to looking over really obscure details like how much the word wish is used every season (great post if you can find it).

this definitely became way more in depth than expected but this is what I have noticed. I very much like how much the internet aligns with my thinking patterns and the imaginatory map of my brain.

Now I just need to figure out if this is neurotypical behaviour .