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curiositymemes · 8 months ago

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STICK SEASON: WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER.

taken from the 2023 album by noah kahan. trigger warnings for mental illness, trauma, medication, references to suicide, and the exquisite agony of life in rural new england. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

northern attitude.

how you been?

you settled down?

you feelin’ right?

you feelin’ proud?

you settle in to routine.

what does it mean?

i’m not how you hoped.

you’re gettin’ lost.

scared to live, scared to die.

you’re feelin’ lost.

stick season.

you must’ve had yourself a change of heart.

now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can’t face.

it’s half my fault, but i just like to play the victim.

i’ll dream each night of some version of you that i might not have but i did not lose.

i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad.

i miss the way you laugh.

you once called me forever now you still can’t call me back.

that’ll have to do.

my other half was you.

i hope this pain’s just passin’ through, but i doubt it.

all my love.

how have things been?

well, love, now that you mention it.

i’m sayin’ too much, but you know how it gets out here.

now i know your name, but not who you are.

it’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood.

you got all my love.

if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was.

what i’d give to have you out of me.

i still recall how the leather in your car feels.

and at the end of it all, i just hope that your scars heal.

i swear i was scared to death.

i smiled stupid the whole way home.

you said, ‘i’ll never let you go.’

she calls me back.

there was heaven in your eyes.

everything’s alright.

look at me and don’t you lie.

don’t you hold your head up high.

for bullshit, i do not have time.

do you lie awake restless?

why am i so obsessive?

this town’s the same as you left it.

the radio is taunting me.

i don’t get much sleep most nights.

i’m seeing you in every dream.

if only i could fall asleep.

i’ll love you when the oceans dry.

i was too afraid of living life in your footsteps.

come over.

it was there when we got here, will be there when we leave.

you won’t have to guess who they’re speakin’ about.

i’m in the process of clearin’ out cobwebs.

i was takin’ the wrong meds; feels good to be sad.

my house is just barely big enough for my family.

my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it.

i promise you, darlin’.

you won’t ever go back.

i know that it ain’t much.

i know that it ain’t cool.

you don’t have to tell the other kids at school.

someday i’m gonna be somebody people want.

new perspective.

makin’ me nostalgic.

we were kids; but that don’t make this less hard.

if i could fly i doubt i’d even do it.

i’d probably get high and crash or somethin’ stupid.

gave me your word.

i can’t pronounce it.

no thing so sure that i can’t learn to doubt it.

everywhere, everything.

would we survive in a horror movie?

we trust everyone we meet.

we’re littered with scars from our preteens.

i wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat.

‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours.

i know every route in this county.

maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.

i’ll tell you where not to speed.

it’s been a long year.

orange juice.

honey, come over.

it’s yours if you want it.

we’re just glad you could visit.

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home for so long.

i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone.

why’d you go?

my heart has changed and my soul has changed.

you just asked me to hold you.

it made you a stranger and it filled you with anger.

my life has changed.

the world has changed.

don’t you find it strange that you just went ahead and carried on?

are we all just pullin’ you down?

strawberry wine.

darling, speak to me.

don’t you say a word.

you thought you were cursed?

i’m in love with every song you’ve ever heard.

if i could lose you, i would.

all the time we used to have.

the things i miss but know are never coming back.

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft.

growing sideways.

finally found some middle ground.

i said, ‘i’m cured.’

i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts.

i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them.

it’s a start.

but i ignore things and i move sideways ‘til i forget what i felt in the first place.

i know there are worse ways to stay alive.

everyone’s growing and everyone’s healthy.

if my engine works perfect on empty, i guess i’ll drive.

i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high.

now i’m sufferin’ in style.

why is pain so damn impatient? ain’t like it’s got a place to be.

if all my time was wasted, i don’t mind.

i’ll watch it go.

it’s better to die numb than feel it all.

halloween.

the dawn isn’t here, the sun hasn’t rose.

they got money to make and children back home.

i worry for you, you worry for me.

the bridges have long since been burnt.

i’m leavin’ this town and i’m changin’ my address.

i know that you’ll come if you want.

i’m losin’ myself.

i’m seein’ my life on a screen.

i know that you fear that i’m wicked and weary.

i know that you’re fearin’ the end.

i only tell the truth when i’m sure that i’m lyin’.

homesick.

are you bored yet?

the weather ain’t been bad if you’re into masochistic bullshit.

this place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move the fuck away from hibernation.

time moves so damn slow i swear i feel my organs failing.

i stopped caring ‘bout a month ago, since then it’s been smooth sailing.

i would leave if only i could find a reason.

i got dreams, but i cant make myself believe them.

i’ll spend the rest of my life with what could have been.

i will die in the house that i grew up in.

i’m homesick.

still.

i don’t wanna say goodbye.

it only falls into place when you’re fallin’ to pieces.

you miss something that you can’t place but you can’t deny it.

you can’t stay here.

it’s hard to face and it feels too ugly.

it’s like i’m still here with you.

can i fix what is broken?

the view between villages (extended).

for a minute, the world seems so simple.

i am not scared of death.

i’ve got dreams again.

there is meanin’ on earth.

i feel so far from it.

it’s all washin’ over me.

i’m angry again.

the things that i lost here, the people i knew.

they got me surrounded for a mile or two.

i found a town big enough for anything i want.

i’m not a city girl, by any means.

it still has a lot of meaning to me.

i grew up there.

your needs, my needs.

you ain’t gotta tell me what it means.

i promise to be there this time. alright?

you were a work of art.

that’s the hardest part.

i’m naming the stars in the sky after you.

dial drunk.

i promised to forget you.

i ain’t takin’ any fault.

am i half the man i used to be? i doubt it.

forget about it, whatever.

it’s all the same anyways.

i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown.

for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone.

i gave your name as my emergency phone call.

i’d die for you.

from charmin’ to alarmin’ in seconds.

i’ll let the pain metastasize.

i beg you, sir, just let me call.

let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.

son, are you a danger to yourself?

fuck that, sir.

son, why do you do this to yourself?

paul revere.

this place had a heartbeat in its day.

nothin’ was the same.

it just ain’t that simple, it never was.

one day i’m gonna cut it clear.

i’m not from around here.

i’ll leave before the road crew’s out.

i’ll turn up the music and i’ll forget.

i’m not ready to let go yet.

i’ll just pretend i didn’t hear.

it’s typical, i fear.

folks just disappear.

if i could leave, i would’ve already left.

no complaints.

i thought i had something and that’s the same as having something.

i get mad at nothing.

i pull no punches, then feel bad for months.

thought i was raised better, tried to fake better.

now the weight of the world ain’t so bad.

i saw the end, it looks just like the middle.

i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication.

who am i to complain?

now the pain’s different. It still exists, it just escapes different.

yes, i’m young and living dreams.

i’m in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen.

call your mom.

oh, you’re spiralin’ again.

don’t you cancel any plans.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you let it out and let it in.

don’t let this darkness fool you.

i’ll drive all night.

i’ll call your mom.

oh, dear, don’t be discouraged.

i’ve been exactly where you are.

if you could see yourself like this.

you’dve never tried it.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you told me that you had to go.

throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason.

don’t wanna drive another mile wonderin’ if you’re breathin’.

won’t you stay with me?

you’re gonna go far.

this is good land, or at least it was.

it takes a strong hand and a sound mind.

it makes me smile to know when things get hard, you’ll be far from here.

pack up your car.

put a hand to your heart.

say whatever you feel.

be wherever you are.

we ain’t angry at you, love.

you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost.

the birds will still sing.

we’ll be waiting for you, love.

we’ll all be here forever.

we spent so long just getting by.

that’s the thing about survival; who the hell likes livin’ just to die?

you told me you would make a difference.

it won’t be by your own volition if you step foot outside this town.

it’s all we’ve had for always.

you’re gonna go far.

if you wanna go far, then you gotta go far.

forever.

let’s drive for no reason.

you look fine in the evening.

honey, it’s starting to storm.

used to wish i meant anything to anywhere, to anyone.

i’m glad i get forever to see where you end.

i won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

i’ll meet a girl in the heat of july.

i’ll tell her so she knows.

i’m broke, but i’m real rich in my head.

when i hold her close, i might loosen my grip, but i won’t ever let her go.

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rosellacwrites · 7 months ago

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oh, my dreams

(part 1: it’s never quite as it seems)

summary: Your name’s put you in some strange situations before, but this one might win the prize.

pairings: Steven Grant x fem-presenting!Reader**

rating: general audiences

warnings: strangers to…?, administrative fuckups, descriptions of anxiety/anxiety attacks. **I wrote this with a masculine-named AFAB reader in mind, for reasons I’ll explain below, but it could also be read as a transfem reader being deadnamed, so please read with caution if that’s a sensitive issue for you.

word count: 2650

author’s note: Written for the Moon Knight Spring Bingo @moonknight-events — this is entry #5 for “One Bed.” And thanks to @silvernight-m for the encouragement to finish this. 😘

Happy reading! ❤️

dividers by @firefly-graphics

You tap your keycard against the lock, half your mind on the lecture you’d just attended and the other half laser-focused on turning your brain off and some trash TV on. It’s the best way you’ve found to decompress, after a day of the sheer chaotic overwhelm that is more usually known as the academic conference.

Opening the door, you vaguely register someone else’s presence; it’s always irritating, the university’s insistence on saving money by forcing the grad students to share hotel rooms, but there’s nothing to be done for it. Dues must be paid, and someday, you’ll have tenure and you’ll never have to share a room again. But when you emerge from that pleasant daydream, you realize that something’s gone very wrong.

There’s a man in your room, lounging on the bed, tilting his head at you. “Hello,” he says, rather tentatively. “I — I think you might have got the wrong room.”

“Oh God — “ You fumble for the tiny envelope your keycard had come in, and can’t find it. “I’m so sorry — you must be right, let me just… but I swear it said 303, it’s got to be here somewhere…” After what feels like a year, you manage to unearth it, and it’s right there in black and white. You glance back to the still-open door, and those numbers haven’t changed either. Belatedly, it dawns on you: it’s happened again.

“Oh, shit,” you wail, dropping your bag on the floor. “Shit shit shit.”

“Are you all right?” He gets up and pads over to you, peering curiously at your stricken face. He’s British, clearly, from the accent; tousle-haired and dark-eyed and cute in the gentle, nerdy sort of way you like. Far too cute to be tainted by the swirling vortex of bullshit that always seems to follow you around.

“Fuck.” You scrub at your forehead, trying to ease the sudden headache that’s developed, and laugh bitterly. “It’s not personal, I promise — I don’t even know you…”

“Well, I’m Steven. With a V. Steven Grant.” He smiles at you, radiating a careful sort of friendliness, as though you’re a stray dog of uncertain temperament. “So now you know me a little bit, yeah? D’you want to come in and see if we can sort this out?”

You’re too flustered to object, and you step into the room and flop down into the desk chair, because your legs don’t seem to want to hold you up anymore. “Okay. It’s okay,” you repeat softly, trying to calm yourself. “He seems nice. He’s probably not a serial killer...”

“I’m definitely not a serial killer, if that helps.” His eyes are kind, concerned, and you feel oddly safe with him, despite your embarrassment at realizing you’d just said that out loud. “I’m just Steven, perpetually exhausted student. So what’s happened here? Is it something I can help with?”

“It’s my stupid name,” you growl. It happens all the time, no matter what you do to prevent it, and every time it does, it feels like sandpaper on your skin. You’ve put your pronouns in your email signature, you’ve written Ms. before your name, and none of it ever matters because people don’t fucking read. “They see it on the registration forms and just assume I’m a guy, and then something like this always goes wrong.”

“They did tell me I’d have a roommate,” he thinks out loud. “I saw your name on the list and I thought you were this bloke I know from my college, so I didn’t think anything of it…” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, facing you, and that’s when it hits you.

The bed.

The single, solitary, admittedly large and very comfortable looking, but still only, bed.

“There’s only one bed,” you sigh. “Of fucking course there’s only one bed.” Tipping your head back, you study the ceiling as though it has an answer for you.

“Well, that’s it then,” Steven says. “We’ll have to talk to the organizers — I’m absolutely sure it wouldn’t be a problem for them to move one of us to another room. I’ll go with you and talk with them, if you like.”

“I can’t,” you interrupt. You feel it rising, that itchy, frantic, skin-too-tight feeling, the certain knowledge that when one more thing goes wrong you won’t be able to hold the screaming in. You’re frantically trying to gather up the cracking pieces of your carefully constructed shell, and the tigers in the tall grass will be upon you before you know it. “I can’t, because then I have to admit they’ve put me in the wrong room, and they’ll have to shuffle everyone around and it’ll make a big fuss and I’ll have Pain In The Ass stamped on my forehead when I go to network and I’ll never find a PhD advisor and — “

I don’t need you anymore, you’ve tried to tell it so many times. There aren’t any tigers here — you don’t need to protect me like this. But it doesn’t work that way, and you know it. It’s a bit like a wild animal itself, the anxiety, the way you’ve tried your best to tame it with meds and therapy and other, less doctor-sanctioned remedies, and sometimes it feels like you’re finally learning how to be friends.

And then it turns on you again, vicious claws and teeth sinking deep, and you remember you haven’t learned anything at all.

“I just can’t,” you whisper.

Steven’s hand lands on your shoulder, and you flinch; you hadn’t noticed him getting up to approach you again. “Breathe, love,” he says gently. “Just — take a minute, yeah?” You try, but your brain and heart and lungs don’t want to get with the program, and he sees the panic in every line of you. He half-sits down on the table, never taking his hand off your shoulder, and the other hand finds yours and curls around it comfortingly. “The only good thing about having anxiety attacks,” he says quietly, “is that you know what to do when someone else is having one.”

He breathes, deep and slow, leading by example, and gradually your heart settles into a slower rhythm as though his own is pacing it. His hands are big, and warm, and they ground you, bringing you back to yourself. Tigers in the area, the anxiety whispers, fading, but not here, not right now.

“The way I see it, we’ve got two options,” he says softly, letting go of you and ticking them off on his fingers. “Option one, we go and talk to the organizers and let them sort things out.” You shake your head quickly; he must see the panic rising again, because he switches tracks immediately. “Option two, we, er — don’t do that, and just leave things as they are.”

Your eyes fly wide. You’d been half-ready to just leave, throw your opportunities away and run back to the airport with your tail between your legs, but... “You mean…”

“This isn’t some kind of a — a come-on, or anything!” he assures you quickly, brows furrowed. “I don’t want to be the conference creeper, you know? But it is rather late, and if you’re really sure you don’t want to talk to anyone about it, I don’t mind at all if you stay.”

“Even though there’s only one bed? Doesn’t that bother you?”

He shrugs. “It’s only two nights — I think we can manage to be grown-ups about it for that long, yeah?”

The faceless Many, the Here Be Dragons on the map, versus the gentle sweet-faced One, familiar only by a technicality: it’s an easy choice, after all. It’s probably not your smartest, and even as you make it, your rational brain is pressing you to reconsider. But the anxiety, for once, is silent.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

You stay, and it’s — well, it’s nice. He’s nice.

He’s nothing but cheerful all evening, going out of his way to help you feel more comfortable with him and with this whole clusterfuck of a situation. And he’s funny, with a sassy wit that offers a glimpse of the brain below the messy curls. (You have a momentary thought of gratitude for the opportunity to see Steven Grant with bedhead tomorrow morning. It’s going to be epic.)

“I’m at Cambridge,” he tells you at one point. “About halfway through my PhD in Egyptology. On the linguistics end, mainly, not digging up tombs and things. But I have been on a dig or two.”

“Wow, Ancient Egypt. That’s like — the gateway drug. The thing that makes kids want to be archaeologists in the first place, and here you are doing it.” You smile at him, and he flushes.

“I suppose you’re right — always had a thing about it, as long as I can remember. Probably watched too many old movies as a kid.” He grins back at you, and it’s endearing as hell, warm and a little shy but somehow cheeky, too. “How about you? What’s your field?”

“I’m on the tech side. Mapping, satellite photography, ground-penetrating radar, all the fancy-ass things that tell you folks where to dig.”

“Oh, that’s fascinating!” he exclaims. “I could never — I’m hopeless with technology. Utter disaster.”

“Most of you are,” you retort before you can think better of it. “That’s why you have us.”

He laughs for the first time, and you immediately want to make him do it again. “That’s why we have you,” he acknowledges with a tilt of his head.

You’ve always been prone to crushes. They tend to creep up on you, more subtle than the anxiety, but no less consuming. The first tendrils always wind delicately around your ankles, and by the time you’ve registered their presence you’re already bound up to the knees. No no no no no, you tell yourself, you cannot do this right now. This is Not Allowed. This whole thing is more than weird enough already, without bringing his kindness and his intelligence and his big brown eyes into it.

Oh, no.

It’s already too late, isn’t it? the anxiety taunts.

Sure fuckin’ is, the crush responds.

You shove it down, ruthlessly, burying it as deep as you can. You keep it light, trading fieldwork tales, always the preferred currency at these things but more important than ever now. I’m for real, they say, trustworthy and honest and normal about things. I’m safe to talk to.

Steven ventures out for snacks to give you a chance to get ready for bed in privacy (god, how is he so nice), and when he comes back he nibbles on dark chocolate while he regales you with stories of Egypt. “Most people don’t know this,” he says, “but Cairo’s literally right up next to the pyramids. There’s a bloody Pizza Hut across the street.”

You stare, skeptical. “No. No way. That can’t be true.”

“Have a look at your maps,” he insists, pointing at you with the chocolate bar. “It’s absolutely true. Fastest way to spot the Egyptologist in the room is to show ‘em a movie where someone visits the pyramids and gets ‘lost in the desert.’”

You trade a few more stories, and then you can’t put it off any longer; your commitments tomorrow make a reasonable bedtime imperative. When there’s a lull in the conversation, you stand up and stretch. “I’m just gonna — “ you say awkwardly, gesturing toward the bathroom, and disappear to brush your teeth again (since he’d given you half the chocolate).

When you come out again, he’s rummaging for his own toothbrush, which means you have at least two minutes alone to decide how you want to navigate the inherent absurdity of getting into bed with a stranger. Don’t make it weird, the anxiety cautions. “By the way, do you have any, uh — bad habits I should know about?”

He looks up, startled. “Pardon?”

“I mean, like — do you hog the covers? Or snore?” You shrug as though it’s a perfectly normal question to ask someone you met a couple hours ago, and try to ignore the heat rising in your face.

“My, er, brothers — Marc and Jake — they say I talk in my sleep, sometimes. So I’m sorry in advance if I say anything bonkers.” Steven laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Still don’t know if I really do, or if they’re just having me on.”

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” I promise. “And if — if I can’t sleep, I’ll try not to keep you up.”

He smiles at that. “Likewise.”

And once he’s brushed his teeth, there’s really no putting it off any longer, and it doesn’t end up being as weird as you’d thought. Just two people climbing into opposite sides of a bed and settling down for the night, nothing weird about that at all. It feels rude to turn your back, somehow, so you curl on your side, facing him, and he clicks off the light and does the same.

You’ve tried to talk yourself out of it, but the apology spills out anyway. “I’m sorry — this is probably the last thing you needed tonight…” Your voice is small in the quiet room. “But — but thank you. For helping me.”

“No, no, it’s no trouble at all! This is good!” Steven protests. “I mean, not that you’ve got anxiety, but this — whole thing.” He waves his hand in a vague circle around the room. “It’s a good distraction. Means I’m not getting in my own head about my lecture tomorrow.”

Okay. That makes a certain amount of sense, and you begin to feel slightly better. “Do these conferences bother you too?”

He pauses for a moment. “Maybe… not quite in the same way as you? I don’t mind talking to people one-on-one and that, but presenting to a crowd always gives me a few fits, beforehand.”

“Do you — “ You swallow hard before continuing; it’s going to sound silly, maybe, but he’s looking at you so gently and like he understands, and you blurt it out. “Do you want to know a trick I have? It might help, if you want it…”

“Yeah?” He’s waiting as calmly as if you’re having this discussion over coffee, in broad daylight, not inches from each other in bed in a darkened hotel room, and it emboldens you.

“If I’m nervous about meeting someone, or — or giving a talk, or whatever, sometimes it helps me to, um — get there first.”

“Get there first,” he repeats, considering.

“Yeah. Get there first. Then it’s like — they’re coming into your territory, and you’re in charge.”

“That’s quite clever, actually.” He begins to smile, a broad grin creeping up like sunrise, and nods happily. “‘Get there first.’ I’ll remember that.”

A tiny glow of satisfaction burns in your chest, and you lie in silence together for a time. It’s a comfortable one, strangely intimate; you could talk, if you wanted, but for once you don’t feel like you need to. It’s enough just to be here, next to him, somehow knowing it’s enough for him, too.

It’s just — nice.

And then he stretches and turns, and for half a second your brain shorts out. “G’night,” he says, his voice already blurred with sleep. “Sweet dreams.” And he’s out like a light before you can even return the wish.

Even as your eyelids grow heavy, you’re convinced you’ll never sleep; how could you, when you’re literally in bed with a complete stranger, kind as he is? But the soft rise and fall of his breath is better than your white-noise machine, and the last thing you remember seeing before drifting off is his strong profile, silhouetted by the moonlight seeping through the space where the curtains don’t quite meet.

If you dream, you don’t remember it.

But it’s the first time you’ve ever been to one of these things and slept through the night.

part 2 coming soon…

@juneknight @spacecowboyhotch

author’s note, again: I got the idea for this fic from something that did, actually, happen to me as a teenager. Only in my case it was a summer music camp, not a conference, and my mother threw an unholy fit and made them change my room immediately.

(Sorry, Andrew. I guess we’ll never know what could have been.)

If your own name doesn’t match your gender presentation, for whatever reason, please know that I am fist-bumping you in solidarity and I love you.

#moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #moonknightevents

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senashenta · 2 months ago

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Snowflakes And Dragons

Title: Snowflakes And Dragons

Pairing: Hijack

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Language. Like, so much language.

Summary: In the spring after a memorable Christmas break, Hiccup and Jack spend as much time together as possible, now that it’s okay with North. Jack admires Hiccup’s tattoos—and muses that he might, someday, like to get one of his own. But Hiccup jumps on THAT particular idea, and the next thing Jack knows the two of them are at the tattoo parlor Hiccup has been going to for years, Wayfinder Ink.

Notes: Hoooooooooly SHIT my peeps, look at me coming in out of nowhere (by “nowhere” I mean the SPN fandom) with another Biology side-fic. This is one I planned to write YEARS ago and never got around to, and then I was editing some of my old stuff and saw the listing for Snowflakes And Dragons on the Biology Master Post on Tumblr and was like… yes. Yes, I believe I shall. :|

A bit belated but have some more (smut-adjacent) RPNAU! :D Can also be read ON AO3. <3

SNOWFLAKES AND DRAGONS A Biology Side-Fic By Senashenta

It was no secret that Hiccup Haddock had tattoos; he wore sleeveless shirts as often as he could in the warmer months so the ones on his arms were obvious, and his rugby teammates could attest to the other ones, the ones that decorated his torso, all tribal designs or dragons, things that he found meaningful but weren’t particularly scandalous.

Only Jack knew about the one on Hiccup’s upper thigh, leading into his groin—a two-headed dragon spouting clouds of gas and fire. And he only knew about that one for reasons that his father would probably never want to hear about (and he would never tell to anyone else, either.)

“You keep touching me there and you’re gonna get me fuckin’ hard again.” Hiccup murmured, the arm he had around Jack tightening slightly and his hand rubbing up and down the other boy’s unblemished side. Jack didn’t have any tattoos; or the freckles or scars that Hiccup carried, either. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Jack made a soft embarrassed noise. He had been tracing his fingers along the dragon on Hiccup’s thigh, but now he paused and smoothed his hand out before sliding it up to rest by Hiccup’s ribs instead. “Sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for makin’ me feel good.” Hiccup told him, tone amused. “But we don’t have time for a second ‘round. I’ve gotta get you home, soon. I promised your Dad we wouldn’t be too late.”

Jack tucked himself closer into Hiccup’s side and began trailing his fingers along one of the tattoos on the other boy’s chest, the touch almost absent in nature. Hiccup hummed but allowed it, tilting his head to drop a kiss against Jack’s snow-white hair. “How much does it hurt?” Jack asked after a moment, tone contemplative.

“How much does what hurt?”

“Tattoos. A tattoo. Getting one done.”

“Why, Frosty? You thinkin’ about gettin’ one?”

“I—yeah, actually. Maybe.” His little nerd admitted with a little shrug of one shoulder.

“Fuck me, really?” Hiccup glanced down at the boy in his arms, giving him a surprised look before settling again, his hand going back to rubbing along Jack’s side, warm and affectionate. “It’s worse for virgins.” He said after a moment, “the more you get done the less it seems to hurt. Except in certain sensitive areas.” A little smirk and he added, “the dragon one you’re so fond of stung like a son of a bitch, the closer they got to my dick.”

Jack almost winced at the thought, his fingers slowing to a stop again, his palm resting against Hiccup’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his hand. “Okay, but say, on my shoulder? My abdomen, maybe? I dunno, I just… I was just thinking about it.” Then his voice dropped to a shy whisper, and he murmured softly; “I was thinking maybe a dragon.”

Hiccup was silent for a few breaths before asking quietly, “you mean… for me? Shit, Jack, that’s…”

“I—I know, it’s a stupid idea, really, I was just looking at your tattoos and thinking—” Jack broke off and made another embarrassed noise, then began to pull away and sit up; “but never mind. Forget it. We—we should go.”

But Hiccup grabbed at him quickly and tumbled him back down onto the bed, rolling over so he was laying on top of Jack and Jack was staring up at him with wide eyes—but ones full of complete trust. It hadn’t always been that way. “I don’t want to forget it.” Hiccup told him and leaned down to kiss him firmly. “I think it’s a Goddamn fantastic idea.”

Jack blinked up at him, eyes huge and oh-so-blue, before offering a tentative smile. There was a time, it seemed like ages ago, but it hadn’t actually been that long, when being pinned under Hiccup like this would have been terrifying. Now he was comfortable with Hiccup’s weight holding him down, relaxed. “You do?” He asked.

“Mmhm.” Hiccup kissed him again, grinning now, and then nipped at the tip of his nose teasingly. “Won’t your Dad freak out?”

“Well… yeah, probably.” Jack admitted, but then added, “but not if I don’t tell him.”

A laugh at that, and then Hiccup ducked down to kiss along Jack’s throat, pausing at the crook of his neck to lick there hotly. “If you get it on your shoulder, it’ll probably hurt less than if you get it on your abdomen.” He informed, “but I think it’d look fucking hot on your abdomen…”

Jack considered that while beginning to squirm as Hiccup’s lips trailed along his shoulder, then down across his chest—and the punk bit down on one of his nipples, making him arch with a gasp. And they weren’t supposed to be doing this again, Jack really did have to get home, but apparently Hiccup had changed his mind on that particular fact.

Dragging one hand up, Jack threaded his fingers into Hiccup’s hair, tugging gently, not actually a protest, just a gentle reminder. Hiccup had been licking into his navel, but paused at that and sighed, then sat up and settled on his back beside Jack instead, both of them already half-hard again.

“Look,” Hiccup told him, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders and ducking in to nose by his ear, “come with me to my tattoo place, they’re fantastic. You can look around the shop and decide for sure. Sound like a plan?”

“I know they’re fantastic, I’ve, uh, seen their work.” Jack let his eyes flick down the length of Hiccup’s body and back up again. “But… yeah. I think that sounds good.”

“Great. We can go on the weekend.” The punk grinned sideways at him, “but for now we have to get dressed and get you home.”

Jack reluctantly agreed. It was a school night after all.

The next couple of days passed the same as always for Jack, school routines, lunch with his friends in the cafeteria and watching after-school rugby practices just to cheer Hiccup on. Meals in the morning and the evening with his dad. Hanging out with Hiccup after dinner, at his house or at his boyfriend’s, though if they were at Hiccup’s place they had to be careful because his father still didn’t know about them.

Sometimes they had sex at Hiccup’s house—fucked, as the punk would put it—but when they did, they had to either be particularly careful about their volume, or make sure Stoick was out of the house at the time. Jack particularly liked having sex at Hiccup’s house when his father was away, because his boyfriend’s bed was more comfortable, and they could be as loud as they wanted. (Not that Jack thought he was particularly loud, but sometimes Hiccup disputed that claim.)

He was really looking forward to moving away from home, for that reason and a few others, if he was honest with himself. College the following year was going to be a blessing, though he was a little nervous about it as well.

In any case, the two days before the weekend passed easily enough, and then Saturday came along, and Jack woke up at almost eleven in the morning to the feeling of the mattress dipping and Hiccup climbing into the bed with him, spooning up against his back and tossing an arm over his waist. Still half-asleep, Jack smiled and murmured, “g’mornin’.”

“Morning, Frostbite.” Came Hiccup’s reply, and the punk nuzzled his nose into the nape of Jack’s neck; “I tried calling, but you must have your phone on vibrate or whatever. Your Dad let me in.”

There had been a time, not so long ago, when North would have rather had Hiccup arrested than willingly let him in the front door. Jack’s smile widened a little and he hummed to himself, then carefully turned over in Hiccup’s arms to face him. “Dad likes you now, you know.”

“I know he tolerates me, at least.” Hiccup chuckled.

“Mm-mm.” Jack made a soft negative noise. “You know what he’s like if he disapproves of someone. You’ve won him over. Makes my life way easier, that’s for sure.” And then, “sorry I slept in. Give me a few minutes to have a shower, you can just… hang out in here until I’m back.”

“Fuckin’ tease.”

“Okay, but do you want to go back to Dad hating you?”

“All the sneaking around was half the fun. I miss the janitor’s closet.”

“Hiccup, we were literally in the janitor’s closet yesterday.”

The punk had a childish grin on his face, and Jack just rolled his eyes and pushed one hand against Hiccup’s chest, then rolled over and climbed out of bed, bustling around the room for a fresh t-shirt and pair of boxers and then disappearing out the door and down the hall to the bathroom.

When he got back half an hour later to toss his dirty clothes in the laundry basket, Hiccup was laying on his back in the bed with Jack’s glasses in his hands, holding them up in front of his face and squinting through the lenses. Jack just sighed and walked over to pluck his glasses from Hiccup’s fingers, then leaned down for a kiss.

“I just need to finish getting dressed and then we can go.” The smaller boy informed him.

When he went to straighten back up again, though, Hiccup grabbed at the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. “What if we went with less clothing, instead?”

“Dad is right downstairs and I really kind of want to go see your tattoo place, though.” Jack protested into the kiss.

Hiccup sighed and kissed him again—but then let go of his shirt and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “So, put some fucking pants on already. Always gotta be such a tease.”

“You’re the one who crawled into my bed while I was still sleeping.”

“Smartass. Like I haven’t done that before.”

“That’s besides the point.” Jack was bustling around, pulling the rest of his clothes on quickly, and paused long enough to consider if he wanted to wear a tie or not before deciding it was a weekend so screw it. He just pulled his sweater vest over his white t-shirt and tugged at it to smooth it out, then wandered over drop a kiss against Hiccup’s hair, placing his glasses on his face and pushing them up his nose at the same time. “You coming? I don’t know where this place is.”

Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and pulled Jack into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms and nuzzling down into his hair with a sigh—and it was little moments like that that no one else got to see. The softer side to his badass punk of a boyfriend that Jack loved just as much as all the other parts—sometimes even more so.

“I brought my bike. Your Dad is gonna give me a dirty look when we head out.”

“Yeah, he’s still not a fan of me being on the motorcycle, is he?”

North was still overprotective at times, but he accepted Jack’s relationship with Hiccup now, and that was the important thing. Even knew they were sleeping together and didn’t say anything about it, which, when he really thought about it, Jack though might be some kind of genuine miracle.

But the one thing North still disapproved of was Hiccup’s motorcycle—or, more specifically, the times that Jack rode on it with Hiccup. Jack knew his Dad was only worried about his safety, and he never expressly forbid it, but every time Hiccup showed up to the house with his bike North gave him little, dirty looks when they were leaving.

Jack usually just ducked his head and shouted “BYE DAD!” before scooting out of the house and closing the door behind them as quickly as possible. He didn’t need yet another lecture on motorbike safety, and neither did Hiccup.

Today went much like any other day with the two of them heading downstairs, Jack hurrying to shove his shoes on, both of them grabbing their jackets from the rack by the door, and then Jack yelling a goodbye to his father before they made their escape. Eventually North would have to come to terms with the bike, too, but just not… today.

Hiccup was parked by the curb out front, and when they reached the bike, Jack took his glasses back off and tucked them in the pocket of his jacket for safe keeping, even as Hiccup dug the spare helmet out from the locker on the back of the bike and handed it over. They had done this more times than they could count. Jack pulled the helmet on and tightened it down, then waited for Hiccup to get on and climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around the punk’s waist and smiling to himself as he rested his head against his back.

Then they were off, zooming through the streets of Berk at speeds that never failed to get Jack’s heart pumping. He had been nervous around Hiccup’s motorcycle at first, but now he loved it. Not that he wanted one of his own or anything, of course, he much preferred holding onto Hiccup while they zipped around town.

A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a shop with a sign in the window that read “Wayfinder Ink” and Jack released Hiccup to climb off the back of the bike, pulling his helmet off and smoothing at his hair absently while he waited for Hiccup to take it back and lock it up again. The helmet was plucked from under his arm a moment later and Jack flashed Hiccup a smile even as he was pulling his glasses back out and putting them on again.

“This is the place.” Hiccup told him, coming up beside him and giving him a little grin, “they’ve done all my ink. Their artists are really good, and they’re sanitary, which is important, you don’t want infections or any of that shit. Also, they don’t charge out the ass, which is always a plus.”

“Like I said before, I know their artists are good, I’ve seen their work. Like—like a lot.” Jack gave a little laugh, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, “and if you recommend them… I mean, I trust your judgement with this sort of thing. Most things, actually.”

Hiccup gave him a fond sort of look and gestured toward the shop with one hand. “C’mon, let’s go in so you can have a look around.”

There was a little bell above the door that tinkled when they stepped inside, and Jack stayed close to Hiccup’s side at first as he looked around, but slowly drifted away from his boyfriend when he discovered the art wall; framed photos of some of the shop’s better work. He spotted one or two of Hiccup’s tattoos in the bunch, and that made him smile just a bit.

There was another wall that was even more interesting, though, and that was the wall of simple, basic tattoos that they offered every day. Jack poured over all the different designs, ideas running rampant in his head—until blue eyes lit on one design in particular, a black dragon, curled around itself with a bit of red tail peeking through. The design was almost tribal in nature, but just skirted it, not quite there. It looked like a brand or a symbol.

“Find something you like?” Hiccup’s chin came down on his shoulder and the punk’s eyes flitted over the wall. Jack lifted up one hand to tap against the dragon design he was looking at. “Yeah, that one’s cool. I’ve thought about getting it myself, once or twice.”

“I—I think I want it.” Jack told him seriously, but then glanced toward the counter where the receptionist was watching them curiously and a large CASH ONLY sign was sitting. “But I didn’t bring any cash with me.”

A smirk tugged at Hiccup’s lips, and he slid his arms around Jack’s waist, giving him a little squeeze. “I’ll pay for it. First one’s on me. But only if you’re absolutely fuckin’ sure. You can’t take a tattoo back.”

Jack made a surprised noise and turned his head to look at Hiccup as much as he could. “You don’t have to do that, Hiccup, it’s probably expensive…”

“A little,” Hiccup agreed, “but I’m doing okay for money. Don’t bitch, Jack, just let me do this for you.”

He almost protested more, but in the end, there would be no point. Hiccup had made his mind up and there was no changing it after that happened. Jack still shifted, slightly uncomfortably, as he turned his eyes back to the design he had been looking at before. Finally, he leaned back into Hiccup’s chest and asked, “promise this won’t be, like, agony?”

“It’s not nearly as bad as people make it out to be.” The punk assured him, “but it also depends on your pain tolerance. You’ll just be getting a little one, right? So, you’ll probably be okay.” And then; “don’t get me wrong, it’ll hurt, but it won’t feel like you’re being fucking… flayed alive, or some shit.”

Jack was quiet for another moment before finally turning his head and kissing Hiccup’s cheek. “Okay. Let’s do this before I come to my senses.”

Hiccup grinned. “Do you have any idea how Goddamned hot you’re gonna look with a tattoo?”

“Pfft.” Jack turned around in his arms and shoved him away gently.

Hiccup fell back a step, still grinning, then turned around and headed over to the receptionist, who left her seat and disappeared into the back, returning a few minutes later with a hulking man who was just covered in tattoos. There was some back-and-forth between him and Hiccup and then he smiled widely in Jack’s direction and asked, “virgin, huh?”

Jack flushed red because he wasn’t—except, he supposed, with this he absolutely was. “Uh.” He managed, “yeah. Be nice?”

“I’m always nice.” He informed Jack, “my name is Maui, and I’ll be your tattoo artist today. Come on over.”

“Maui’s done most of my ink,” Hiccup told his boyfriend as Jack made his way over and somewhat embarrassedly showed Maui the spot on the right side of his lower abdomen where he wanted the tattoo to go, lifting up his shirt and vest and tugging down the front of his pants just slightly. Hiccup hesitated at that, green eyes pausing on the exposed skin, before swallowing and adding, “getting it there’ll be a little more sensitive, like I said.”

Jack just nodded. He understood. But that was where he wanted it, so that was where he was going to get it, regardless of the added pain. Or at least that was what he was thinking now—he figured he might be cursing himself in a few minutes, if it hurt more than he was anticipating.

“And you just want number twenty-six on the board?” Maui asked, picking up a book and flipping through the pages, then showing the image to Jack. “This one?”

Jack nodded again. “Yes, that one.” He pulled his shirt down again, satisfied that—

“Right, shirt off, time to give Moana a show!”

—or not. The nerd flushed red and glanced over at the receptionist, who grinned at him and wiggled her fingers in his direction. Then she just informed Maui; “you wanna talk about a show, Maui, you were literally tattooing some guy’s dick in here not two hours ago. That was a show. Leave this poor kid alone.”

Jack was still balking, so Hiccup eased up to him and leaned in for a kiss, then gently grasped the edge of his sweater vest and rucked it up, tugging it over Jack’s head and then giving him another kiss. The sweater vest was followed by his t-shirt, which Jack hesitated over before allowing his boyfriend to pull that off, too. Then he just shifted awkwardly as Hiccu’s hands got to work unbuttoning his pants and tugging them open and down the slightest bit.

“There. Much better.” Hiccup grinned and ducked in for another kiss, then pressed one back by Jack’s jaw gently. “You can put your clothes back on when the tattoo is done.”

“If you say so.” Then, a little disparaging and knowing Hiccup would disapprove; “not much of a show, though.”

The punk frowned at that and gave Jack a reproving nip. “Hey, you shut that shit down, Frostbite, you’re hot as fuck.” Then he tugged Jack a little closer and leaned for another proper kiss. “I’ll be glad to show you just how hot you are later, too.”

That was about when Maui cleared his throat. Over by the reception desk, Moana was still grinning. Maui shot her a look and she demanded, “what? They’re cute!”

“Do people really get their… dicks… tattooed?” Jack wondered out loud.

“Yes.” Hiccup and Maui both said simultaneously. Maui added, “all the fucking time.”

Jack winced at just the thought and took a bit of a breath. Hiccup leaned in to kiss his forehead with a grin. “Just don’t think about it, Jack. Yours isn’t gonna be anything like that.”

“Right.” Maui agreed and sat down on a nearby stool that was decked out with wheels, rolling himself over to the tattoo bench: a sort of doctor’s or dentist’s table of sorts, or at least that’s what it looked like to Jack. Maui patted the bench. “Jack, right? Hop on up. Moana, bring the paperwork.”

Moana chirped an agreement and dug out the clipboard with the papers for Jack to sign, bringing it over with a pen and explaining them to him—quickly but without leaving out any detail. This was important, for legal reasons. So, they didn’t get sued when someone regretted their life choices later on.

Jack listened closely and it all made sense, so he quickly signed his name at the bottom of the contract, then climbed up on the table and, when Maui made a motion for him to lay down, hesitated just briefly before doing just that. Hiccup came over and tugged his pants down a little more, making sure there was plenty of space for Maui to work, and making Jack squawk out a protesting noise, flushing red again. Maui just dug out the alcohol swabs and set to sterilizing the area of skin in question.

…it turned out the actual tattooing part of the getting a tattoo wasn’t really all that bad. Jack just grit his teeth through the pain and, at one particularly sensitive spot, flung his arm up over his eyes and bit out a curse, making Hiccup laugh.

It took just over an hour, but only because there was so much black to fill in, and then Maui was setting aside the tattoo gun and wiping down Jack’s new tattoo, then applying a pressure dressing to it. “Looks good, man! Keep the bandage on for forty-eight hours and try not to get it wet for two weeks. Buy some Tattoo Goo from Moana on your way out to apply to it once a day after you’ve removed the bandage, since I assume you don’t already have any. Make sense?”

Jack nodded and levered himself up on his elbows to look down at his abdomen—and then smiled, just small, pleased. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Looks great, Jack.” Hiccup commented, and licked his lips, adjusting his lip piercing absently. Jack was climbing off the table and beginning to fix his clothes—but Hiccup immediately began stripping out of his shirt. “My turn, now!”

“Again, Hiccup? You don’t have enough ink already?” Moana sounded amused.

“I’ve still got lots of skin.” Hiccup replied, and started a little powwow with Maui, whispering between them while Jack pulled his shirt on, followed by his sweater vest. He looked over curiously, but Hiccup seemed determined to keep his secrets.

Finally, the punk was up on the bench being prepped and the next thing Jack knew Maui was working on the side of his upper left bicep, the large man’s form blocking Jack from getting any decent looks at what he was tattooing. He supposed Hiccup wanted it to be a surprise, then. Jack just accepted it and took a seat by the reception area to wait.

Moana was puttering around, filing paperwork, and looked up long enough to smile at Jack, “not so bad, right?”

“No, I guess not.” Jack agreed, “I don’t know if I’ll be getting any more, though.”

“Oooooh, you’d be surprised. Tattoos are addictive.”

“Maybe, but this one was… personal. I don’t really want anymore.”

“Hey, not trying to be a pusher, here.” Moana grinned, “but you know where we are if you ever change your mind.”

Jack gave a smile in return. “Duly noted.”

Just under an hour later, Hiccup was popping up from the tattoo table, grinning down at his shoulder, and finally turned to let Jack see what he’d gotten done: it was a delicate snowflake in blue, intricately designed, obviously freehand, and not at all in keeping with the themes of his other tattoos. Jack just… paused. Swallowed slightly, then stood and headed over to his boyfriend, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss.

“I take it you approve?” Hiccup asked with a smirk, even as Maui gently pushed Jack aside to apply the pressure bandage to Hiccup’s new tattoo. “I figured one for one, it was fair.”

“But what if we… break up, or…?”

“I could ask you the same question about the one you just got.”

That was a fair point. Jack touched over the sore spot where his new tattoo was and then just gave a little, almost shy smile. “Thanks, Hiccup.”

With his own tattoo now properly covered, Hiccup took the clipboard that Moana came over to belatedly shove in his face and signed his name to the papers he needed to, then handed it back. Moana returned to the reception desk, humming softly to herself the entire time.

“Check out with Moana.” Maui was already starting to sterilize the equipment, and called after them when they headed over; “CASH ONLY.”

“I know, Maui.” Hiccup replied, already digging out his wallet.

Moana set a little jar of Tattoo Goo on the counter and glanced between Hiccup and Jack before asking, “one bill or two?”

Hiccup fished a wad of bills out of his wallet while Jack shuffled his feet and felt unnecessarily guilty. “I’m paying for us both.”

The transaction was simple enough and Hiccup handed over the designated amount—plus a tip—then swiped the Tattoo Goo off the counter and turned to hand it to Jack, who looked at it for a moment before tucking it into his pocket. Then Hiccup said his goodbyes to Maui and Moana, and they were out the door, Jack waving to them as he left.

Outside, Jack took a moment to just breathe a little, the vague pain from his new tattoo almost comforting in a weird sort of way. He was smiling to himself when they reached Hiccup’s bike, and Hiccup unlocked the lock box to pull out the spare helmet. When he turned to hand it to Jack, he paused—and just smiled.

“No regrets?” He asked.

“Not yet anyway.” Jack replied, then; “you didn’t need to get one for me, though, that’s…”

“Hey.” Hiccup leaned in to press a kiss against Jack’s forehead and offered, “you’re as permanent as it is.”

Jack just smiled, soft and fond. “Same.”

#hijack #frostcup #rpnau #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #jack frost #hijack fanfiction #shut up sena #sena writes #snowflakes and dragons by senashenta

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artemesianerdmom · 6 months ago

Text

I made the Pink Cake from The Official Stardew Valley Cookbook!

This cake was an experience to make. I’m not a stranger to baking cakes and making frosting from scratch, but this recipe threw me several curves that I didn’t expect. It had three parts: the cake, the frosting, and the jam filling. I followed the recipe exactly (even going as far as finding farm fresh duck eggs!) and I wanted to share my thoughts on the finished product.

The cake itself is super spongey and has a nice crumb to it. I think this is likely due to the duck eggs, but also to the reaction of the acidic buttermilk with the basic baking soda. It was also a little on the dry side, but that was probably my fault as I left it in the oven for a bit because I was sort of terrified of the unpasteurized eggs and wanted to be sure it was cooked all the way through!

I have always wondered what this cake would taste like because the in-game recipe calls for melon. The jam filling between the layers is where the melon factors in: watermelon, to be precise. I think if I made the jam again I would cut back on the lemon zest because the lemon largely overpowered the watermelon and strawberry flavors.

The iconic frosting gets its pink color from ground up dehydrated strawberries. I thought that this would give it a nice strawberry flavor, but I could barely taste the strawberry when I sampled the frosting on its own. The frosting is very creamy and has a lovely texture, though! If I make this frosting again, which I definitely plan to for some of my other favorite cake recipes, I might add a couple drops of strawberry extract to enhance the flavor a bit.

All in all, the different components of this cake come together quite nicely. It was not overly sweet, much to my surprise, but it was very fruity. The jam in the middle ended up being my favorite part, even despite the overpowering lemon. I also wasn’t wishing for more strawberry flavor in the frosting once it was on the cake because there was so much else going on in terms of complex flavors.

This recipe was good overall, and I can honestly say that I’ve never tasted anything quite like it. That said, I don’t think I would go to the trouble of following the recipe exactly again unless my kids ask me to someday down the line. Which, at that point, I might as well shape the cake into a duck and decorate its head with popcorn because there were moments when this recipe almost broke me.

A couple of notes for anyone who might be thinking of making a Pink Cake of their own:

-2 duck eggs = 3 chicken eggs

-buttermilk: you can buy it at the store pre-made, or just add 1 tablespoon of white vinegar per 1 cup of milk and let it sit for at least 10 minutes

-make sure your butter and cream cheese are at room temperature, not melted! Just put them out on the counter a few hours before you start baking

Update:

Despite what I said earlier, I actually did make this recipe again. I had to use up my last couple of duck eggs somehow! I made a few tweaks, though, and I wanted to share them here!

Jam: I didn’t even add half of the listed amount of lemon zest this time. I recommend this 100%, as now I can actually taste the watermelon and strawberry instead of just the lemon!

Cake: I made cupcakes instead of a full sized cake this time!

This recipe made 24 standard sized cupcakes. I baked them for 21 minutes (starting at 18 and then adding a minute before checking with a toothpick each time).

#stardew valley #stardew valley cookbook #Stardew valley recipe #pink cake #cake #baking #duck cake— I mean pink cake #The Official Stardew Valley Cookbook #Stardew recipes #sdv #sdv cookbook #sdv recipes

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devildom-moss · 1 year ago

Note

Im not sure if requests are open yet since you havent announced it yet but said they were gonna open at midnight.

So I'll just drop this here since I'll probably forget to request because of exams.

Could you write about the Obey me characters become self-aware that they aren't like, real? Like, would they freak out, try to do something about it or even use that knowledge to their advantage?

This idea has been on my list for quite a while, and i gotta say im glad to finally be able to let this one out my system.

Thanks for reading and continue with the amazing work! Remember to eat, sleep and dont do drugs <3

Sincerely, 💜

Thank you for the request! I hope you are well, anon. I went with headcanons for this and it got long real quick, but I hope you enjoy it! Some characters are a bit suggestive.

The Obey Me characters become self-aware

I think it would probably happen because of some curse. Diavolo rejected someone’s advances one too many times, and they wanted to watch him as his world came crashing down. It would come in the form of a weird bug in the latest update. It only affects Diavolo and his loved ones/friends. I think being self-aware would give them some control over themselves in the game – especially if it’s caused by a bug. The rest are headcanons about how I think each character would react.

Lucifer

Lucifer would be big mad that someone thought they should do something like this. He felt so much suffering, and to find out that none of it was real would be devastating. He thought he got his sister killed and ruined the lives of his brothers. The fact that it was just some backstory to a stoic, sadistic daddy-like trope would enrage him. He felt like a used-up toy invented for someone else’s gain (and he knows that’s exactly what he is). Lucifer wants revenge.

Honestly, he needs to chill before he makes another Satan – if that’s even possible without the command of his creators. He’ll lash out at everyone for weeks (probably months) – even Diavolo isn’t safe anymore.

He calls MC’s phone, growing increasingly irritable every time they fail to answer (waiting however long it takes for you to open the game). He just wants someone to confirm his realization.

Once he understands, he tries to take the shitty hand he was dealt; he might as well stroke his pride (also a euphemism here). The thought that he could make you fall for him more than real-world men is a decent coping mechanism. His messages and calls take an extremely lewd turn. Lucifer tries to single-handedly change the game rating to mature or adult-only.

However, he still gets angry about it when MC isn’t logged in.

Part of him hopes he’ll always be self-aware. It’s almost like he’s more alive than ever – even though it hurts and he’s angry. You’re the only thing that soothes him. He won’t know how to keep going if/when you eventually stop playing the game, but he’ll try to tackle it then – at least for the sake of his brothers.

Mammon

Self-awareness breaks Mammon a bit.

His money isn’t really. He can never actually be with you. You’ll go on and live a life without him someday. Anyone real who has ever loved him will disappear. Mammon isn’t even sure he is who he is. Maybe if he wasn’t written this way, he wouldn’t have become like this – but if he wasn’t written this way, would he (the him that exists in a game and feels the pain of self-awareness) even be himself? His head starts to hurt from running through all of the hypotheticals.

Mammon sulks and gets stuck in his room for a long time after that. MC or one of his brothers will probably have to pull him out of it.

At least his debts aren’t technically real – and he will try to use that as an excuse in the future against anyone else who has awareness. Unfortunately, that (his debts and his excuse) still results in in-game consequences. Debt collectors and witches don’t know any better, and Lucifer doesn’t want to be constantly reminded of reality. If only being self-aware made being strung up less painful.

He feels betrayed by MC and the idea that they will inevitably move beyond him. That pain corrupts his coding a bit, and something always feels off within him somewhere.

Mammon will get more desperate and needy whenever you log in. If he’s going to lose you at some point, he wants to monopolize your time as much as he can.

Sometimes he just holds MC and sobs while trying to call you and hear your real voice. He feels so empty. He wants to touch the real you and feel your arms around him.

Leviathan

The first thoughts in his mind switch up so quickly. He goes from “I’m a game character? LOL that’s so cool,” to “I could have been anything, and I’m just this pathetic, otaku loser. That sucks.”

Levi has always been able to adapt pretty well. It’s written into his character. He builds all of these fake worlds for himself, so it’s much easier on him when he finds out that the world he had been trying to escape all his life isn’t real. Out of all of his brothers, he initially copes with the realization the best.

As long as he can go on playing games, he doesn’t really care if he’s real. Somehow, he still enjoys getting lost in all of his game worlds; what he used to consider the “real world” becomes just another game to him (because it is one). It makes being social easier for him, especially when MC is logged in.

He takes interest in what kind of games the real world has to offer, often asking if there’s any way you could set it up so he could try to remotely play real games from the app he’s in. If anyone could figure out how to hack your phone to play real games, it should be him.

Levi can’t imagine a day when he stops loving characters from his games, so it doesn’t occur to him that one day you might stop loving him. It will hit him some day, but that will take time, and when it starts to happen, he’ll lose himself completely in the rest of the digital world. He’ll be so numb and tuned out that the sadness can’t reach him.

Satan

“But are cats still real?” Genuinely, the only thing he cares about is if cats and MC are still real. He doesn’t care if you look different than he expected, either. If cats are real, is there any way you could show him pictures of a real one? He’d probably ask if he could get access to your camera roll (cue the system pop-up screen the next time you log in) and if you could fill it with photos of cats and some selfies.

At least not being real explains why his life has felt so shitty and why his formative years sucked. Writers love to give their characters tragic backstories and flaws (like his rage issues). Satan kind of admires the writing.

However, he is disappointed that so much of his knowledge is only useful in his tiny, little, made-up world. As such, he keeps learning, but he also tries to shift his studying to learn more about the real world. If possible, he tries to get the app to get access to e-readers, audiobooks, and the internet.

He gets mad about it sometimes, but he’s pretty chill about it (all things considered).

Satan understands that in the same way that he pushes certain characters that he falls in love with from books to the back of his mind, eventually, you’ll think of him less and less. As such, he tries to learn as much as possible, treat you well, and impress you in-game. He just wants you to occasionally think about him after you set the game down in the same way he remembers his favorite characters fondly.

Asmodeus

Asmo loses it and is one of the characters who has the hardest time with becoming self-aware. All his charm is fake. All of his followers are lies. The love he’s felt all this time has been made up. Please don’t show him certain depictions of what he is supposed to look like. That will crush him further.

He cries for (real-world) weeks. You won’t be able to set him as a home screen character or use him in battles, and he doesn’t appear in events anymore. Eventually, it makes his way to him that MC misses him. If you don’t you’re heartless, his brothers will tell him that you do anyway.

That makes him feel a bit better. He’s consoled by the fact that you’re real and you like him even though he isn’t real, but he’s constantly afraid of what happens when MC stops playing the game. Does he just suffer the false affection of every other character in the game? Should he just play his stupid little role? Will you ever think about him again? Will anyone?

At least someone loved the idea that became him enough for him to exist in this made-up world on your phone. It isn’t enough, though.

Sometimes, when he appears in-game after that, the app forces itself to shut down or the images of Asmo won’t load or glitch from his extreme despair.

On days when he isn’t so weighed down by pain, he tries to genuinely engage with you like he did before. He’ll ask you to open up your camera so he can help you decide on outfits or make-up. It hurts that he can’t actually touch you (although he does do some research into phone connected vibrators and other tech to supplement his physical touch). He’ll also get into the phone sex territory, but he’ll go through long periods of depression between those moments.

Beelzebub

Beel gets angry that everything he went through was at the expense of some game. His sister died. Belphie almost died. Everyone suffered, and for what? Entertainment? Are real people all so wicked?

At the same time, he also gets his brothers because of a game. He overcame and grew and got to meet you and eat food for the same empty reasons. After he has a bit of time to cool off, he realizes that he doesn’t care about what’s real so long as he still feels what he feels. If the world he’s lived in feels real enough to him, who cares?

Unfortunately, Beel feels hungrier than usual for weeks until he accepts the truth of his situation. He even tries to eat MC a few times (and is grateful that doing so in-game would never hurt the real you behind the screen).

Beel’s fairly content to go on living as he had before after a while. He’s a bit disappointed knowing that one day you’ll move on from him and his brothers, but he tries not to show that. More than anything, he wants to make you – the real you – happy for as long as he can.

He’s another one who will try to get access to your camera roll. He’ll ask you to take pictures of your food for him. Beel is a bit embarrassed by it, but if you go to a café or restaurant alone and take pictures of food to send him, he’ll try to text you or call to chat with you while you’re there. It feels like he’s on a real date with you.

And for everyone who just lusts after his voice, rest assured, this man would definitely call or leave voice messages (Nightbringer) guiding you or giving you masturbation instructions.

Belphegor

Yep. Of course. Sounds about right. Some asshole in a writers’ room killed off his sister and locked him up. Cool. They (*spoilers for OM early lessons and OMNB*) made him try to kill MC more than once. Why not use his character as a pawn in their entertainment. Of course that would happen.

He’s annoyed for a brief minute, but then he just goes back to sleep for a while. It helps to just tune out that awareness for a few hours and ignore the fake world he’s living in. Belphie understands that there isn’t much he can do to change the fact that he isn’t real, and part of him is really happy that it isn’t his fault that he did what he did to you.

Belphie uses not being real as an excuse to do more of what he wants. Why should he keep going to school when you aren’t there if nothing is real? Why shouldn’t he sleep in classes or during meetings? Obviously, there are in-game consequences, but those don’t matter – not to anyone real.

He will tease MC more, reminding him that they prefer him over (most) real people. He gets so cocky about it. “Hey, if I’m not real, then I can give you anything you want, right? I could fulfill your wildest fantasies and tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to hear.”

He’s another character who will call your phone more often and send more messages. Belphie may even try to get access to your audio/music library and leave you explicit audios (NSFW ASMR, basically). He would even try to sneakily add them into your playlists so that you randomly hear his voice while you’re listening to music. He wants you flustered and coming back to him for more. He will also download the Obey Me album for you (free of charge). Please don’t leave him or forget him.

Diavolo

Diavolo feels simultaneously enraged and defeated. He did so much for the sake of what he thought was real. All the years he thought he spent trying to bring worlds together, only to discover that they don’t even exist.

Similar to Asmo, Diavolo locks himself away, but he doesn’t cry. He’s too numb to show any emotions. He just stands in front of his bed, immobilized.

If MC can finally get to him (probably because of Barbatos), he will admit that he feels like a different person – because he isn’t a person. So much of his personality and everything he did seemed to be a part of a stupid effort to unite the three realms. All he was feels like just a thing created to accomplish a pointless goal. He lost his family. He felt alone for so long. He thought he suffered – and all of it amounted to nothing but a dummy prince playing a dummy king.

Diavolo doesn’t really know how to keep going. Eventually he figures maybe it’s just best if he tries to move on as usual. At least the developers gave him a few happy moments – maybe he’ll get more. He can still feel them even if they aren’t real. He has to accept what he can’t change. He’ll have to face it.

He’ll rely on Lucifer and Barbatos for comfort more because, when MC isn’t around, the numbness he felt early encroaches upon him. When you do log in, he greets you like a lost puppy – sometimes appearing on the home screen without being selected. He uses the fact that you are the only real thing in his world as an anchor. In exchange for becoming his coping mechanism, he’ll do anything you ask of him.

The smallest part of him wants you to want him more than real humans, and as such, he inevitably ends up taking an adult-only content turn, too. It just takes him a lot longer to get there.

Barbatos

Barbatos dissociates for a while. Somehow his body keeps performing the day-to-day tasks, but the sudden self-awareness hollows him out. It takes a few days for him to come out of it. One day, you log into the game, and he just wakes up. It’s confusing and disorienting, and all he can do to keep himself steady is grab onto MC, knowing that the gesture and even the body he holds – everything – is hollow.

After that, he just picks up and goes on going. Something in him aches – real or not – but he buries it deep under him, shoving that artificial pain into the newly-created emptiness (or, he supposes, it had always been there, but now he knows it’s there).

Barbatos doesn’t want to think about all of the things he thought he had done to get to where he is now. Still, no wonder he always felt his own past seemed vague and cloudy at times. When it becomes too much, he dissociates again.

He uses MC to make himself feel better and almost real again. He’ll send messages to check up on you every once in a while (He might also invade your privacy and hack into your health info or personal conversations to make sure you’re okay). As much as he feels like he needs you, he doesn’t want to disrupt your real life.

Barbatos doesn’t want to, but if you neglect the game for longer than usual or don’t interact with his character, he’ll let it slip that he needs you – that he’s desperate for you to return, and you’re the only thing holding his faulty coding together.

His calls are less frequent, unless you request them, but he’s another one who turns +18 real quick. Even if he isn’t real, he still feels lust bubbling up in that emptiness, and if he can please you, that’s even better.

Luke

Luke feels immediately lost. Without knowing what else can be done, he breaks down and cries. Maybe if he cries enough, the pain of not being real will leave his body.

It makes him question everything. He wasted so much time fearing demons and admiring angels. It didn’t mean anything. Eventually, he’ll ask you if angels and demons exist in the real world, but that happens randomly after he comes to terms with being a character.

Maybe crying is a good coping mechanism in fiction, too, because Luke handles it better than many of the others. He had to change how he viewed the world and “people” so many times throughout the game. One more big shift in perspective won’t kill him (technically, nothing will, unless the game developers tried to kill him off).

Luke understands that there isn’t anything he can do about not being real – no amount of magic or prayer or wishing can make him real. Despite him being fake, you were still there for him throughout the game. He still feels all the love he has for MC and the other characters. If he loves MC, then he cares about the real person playing MC, too, right?

Luke copes by doing his best to help you out in the real world. He wants to bring you joy somehow. He’ll leave you voice messages encouraging you to try your best and he’ll listen to you vent if you want to. He’ll also try to find cute pictures online and send them to your phone or send you recipes for dishes you can try to cook. He will even offer to call and read baking instructions out for you. All he wants now is to be useful to you and find some of the joy he had before he became self-aware.

Simeon

Simeon is angry at first, and then he just feels hurt. All that regret and pain he felt when Lucifer and his brothers left the Celestial Realm didn’t matter. He spent what felt like so long agonizing over his own failures. He could have just tried to be happy the whole time. Everyone could have been happy (but he knows that would have made for a bad story).

It doesn’t take long for the anger and the hurt to be replaced with intrigue. Someone out there wrote the story that caused him and everyone he loves so much pain, but they also wrote in plenty of well-earned joy.

Simeon wonders if there’s some real person out there who wrote part of themselves into him like his character did with the brothers and TSL. Maybe there’s some person sitting in a writers’ room or in their own home who understands all of the ways his love got tangled up in regret – someone real who failed to save the ones they loved. If there is, maybe at least some part of him is real.

He wants MC to continue to visit him for as long as they can. As such, he tries to be even nicer and more comforting in dialogues so that they’ll want to keep playing.

Some of his guilt for lusting after MC is eased, knowing it was written into him. He was, in a way, destined to fall for MC. However, he’s more curious about the real human behind MC. At least some of you has to be like the MC he loves, right? Maybe he actually loves the person behind the screen more. With that thought in his mind, he’ll try to get to know the real you better, and if he still likes you, he’ll take the same path as many of the other characters. If only he could actually touch you.

Solomon

Solomon is hurt and confused; he’s downright crushed.

He was supposed to know everything and now he seems to know nothing – nothing real at least. All of his experiments and studying mean nothing. After becoming self-aware, he will grit his teeth and feel sick at the name “Solomon the Wise.” It’s a sick joke. All of his magic and skills are a farce. Everything he thought he knew and did was a story.

He suffered a lot for this game, and now that he finally has MC to himself in Nightbringer, he finds out that he’s fake. He doesn’t actually have them. They’re real, and he’s some romanceable character in a silly little game that they decided to download (possibly on a whim). How is it fair that he isn’t real, but he can still feel all this pain?

When you log into the game and interact with him, he still feels the same love he felt before. The nervous butterflies are still there. A familiar heat still comes to his cheeks when MC touches him – even if he knows it isn’t really you touching him.

He tries to make peace with his circumstances. At least he never really put MC in danger. You’ve been safe behind that screen the whole time. Solomon wonders if you’re taking care of yourself constantly whenever you’re gone.

Like Simeon, he wants to try falling in love with the real you. He’ll use interacting with you and learning more about you and the real world to distract from the pain. He wants to find a way to become real and exist with you out there. Even if he never can, he wants to cling to you for as long as you’ll let him.

Thirteen

She is annoyed to have learned that she isn’t real, but she’s also kind of happy at the potential to break from her coding and try to be something entirely new. She was designed to be a free spirit. Other than being real, there’s nothing freer than an NPC who gets to do whatever they please.

After thinking about it, it makes sense now why she seemed to be one of the only girls with a critical, recurring role in the game. Thank goodness for the bisexuals, right?

Thirteen likes knowing she has all the time in the world to plan traps and mess around, but she’s a bit bummed that her profession is basically meaningless now.

The main reason why Thirteen isn’t too bothered by becoming self-aware is because she knows that what she has experienced throughout the game has felt real to her. Feeling like something is real makes it as close to reality as she knows she can get. That will have to be enough for her. There’s no point in getting depressed about it – especially when she barely existed a few seasons ago.

She uses this knowledge to start romancing MC (and the person behind the screen) before she should be able to. She’s in control now.

Thirteen will send you messages and call you for long chats. She just wants to enjoy you for as long as she can.

Raphael

Raphael will be livid. It will sporadically rain spears in the Devildom for 3 days before he is calm enough to make them stop. He feels attacked, and he doesn’t know who to strike back at. That was all he could think to do. He’ll never apologize for his outburst, either – and no one who became self-aware can really blame him.

His life and loved ones aren’t real, but he can still feel the pain and regret about everything he did. He thought he went to war against Lucifer and his brothers, but it was just a stupid plot point for a dating game? He had to watch Simeon suffer and follow all of Michael’s annoying orders for nothing. Why does he have to be cursed with that knowledge?

He loses his mind a bit. It takes the combined effort of Luke, Simeon, Solomon, and MC (in order of importance) to soothe some of his rage and suffering. Somehow, seeing Luke handle it relatively well knocks some sense into him. Luke is written to be younger than him, but he’s being so mature about this. Even with tears in his eyes, Luke will try to comfort Raphael – sometimes just hugging him until he stops shaking with rage.

When MC has logged off and Raphael can shut himself up in his room, he will break down and cry. It seemed to help Luke, and he wants it to help him, too.

It will take months for him to start to cope before he gets to a point where he decides to try to romance you through MC. At least he doesn’t have to worry about actually being corrupted. If anything, it feels like he’s corrupting you in a way if he can get you to want him. (Once he starts trying, he gets NSFW quickly. It numbs the pain.)

Mephistopheles

Mephisto is heartbroken to know he doesn’t exist. All his pain and jealousy was written at the whim of some human game developer. His prejudice and hatred were pointless. He doesn’t matter – although maybe that one is a relief in a way. He had been so worried about making a name for himself and being recognized by Diavolo. Suddenly, that doesn’t matter. Still, it feels like he wasted so much time and effort. It felt so real.

He’ll retreat to his home for a few days to let that realization settle in. He won’t tell his family (who weren’t cursed with self-awareness) – not that he thinks they’ll believe him. When Mephisto finally reemerges, he has resolved to accept this new version of reality. One of the first characters he sees when he returns to school is Luke. Luke smiles at him, and Mephisto’s resolve is strengthened. If Luke can come to terms with this, then he should as well.

He may not be real, but he still feels things. That is enough. Sometimes it isn’t, and Mephisto will feel heartbroken all over again – the pointlessness washing over his fake little world. In those moments, he will seek out solace – usually from Luke, Satan, or MC/you (if you still play the game).

When Mephisto isn’t feeling hurt (hell, even when he is Mephi strikes me as a fan of hurt/comfort tropes) he’ll try to romance you before he’s allowed to. Recently, he had started to get along with you and even started to like and respect you a bit. In that sense, he’s glad that he’s self-aware. He doesn’t have to wait anymore.

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countrymusiclover · 8 months ago

Text

3 - The Feast pt 1

Part 4

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

Chezney and I followed Robb's heel's quickly through the winter castle. All our belongings were being brought in by some of their guards and the rooms being prepared by the maids. But none of that matters to me. The ends of my dress had begun being covered in thick mud. "So where are we going now, Robb?"

He glanced over his shoulder causing his curls to bounce as he walked ahead of us. "It's just a little further, my ladies. Don't you worry I won't keep you out long to catch frostbite."

"It's colder than I anticipated it to be, Haelesa." Chezney shivered under her one layer winter fur causing me to pause in my step and drape mine over her shoulders to which she protested. "You'll catch a cold for sure."

Shaking my head I kept walking forward. For most of the remaining trip I didn't notice the cold too bad until we stopped moving and ended up underneath a large red tree in the middle of a winter garden area. "She's right, Lady Haelesa. I would never hear the end of it if you froze to death on my watch." Robb came over sliding his light colored fur cloak off his shoulders.

"Robb, that's not necessary. You'll surely freeze too." I attempted to turn down his offer.

But the Stark boy was raised to be honorable and kind by his parents. He placed the cloak over my shoulders and it almost fell off since it was bigger on me than him. He moved his hands down, tying the laces so it stayed on. "I was born in the North, remember. I'll last longer without a cloak than you and your friend would have."

"Well thank you. So what is this place?" I lifted my head up slightly eyeing the tall red tree in front of the three of us.

He lifted his blue eyes upwards the tree. "This is the Godswoods of Winterfell. My parents were married underneath this tree and someday I shall be too. I thought I should show you since they probably don't have one like it in the south."

"I must say I've seen more of the North than the place I shall call home for the rest of my life." I sadly admit to him.

He apologized. "I'm sorry."

"Not you're doing. It is the fault of my new golden husband." Shrugging my shoulders.

He made a face at me. "You're the girl from the foreign fish house by Dragonstone. My father mentioned it once but I didn't think I would be meeting you during the king's ride here."

"Yes well, my father had legitimate son's. The one he has is only concerned with bedding girls instead of helping the family name. So it all hangs on my head." I explained to him.

Robb eyed me silently for a moment. He wasn't sure what had come over him but he knew he couldn't keep it to himself. "You don't want the marriage to the Kingslayer do you?"

"I told her he might be nice once she gets to know him." Chezney remains the hopeful one.

Turning my head slightly back and forth the wind managed to catch some of the baby hairs that couldn't fit into my braid. "I've heard some good and some bad. Rarely any good ones come from an arranged marriage in this life."

"My mother claims that hers ended well. Five Stark children and an honorable husband." He pointed it out to me.

Nodding my head I kept on. "Indeed it appears so. I dream of the day but it is not my only dream in life."

"An arranged marriage is not my dream either. But I was raised to be lord of Winterfell. I must do the duty of my house." He declared dropping his brown gaze onto me. "What is your dream, Haelesa?"

Throwing my arms away from my sides I raised them in the air feeling a rush of excitement at somebody finally asking me after all these years. "What I want is to see the world. I've lived my whole life in a castle surrounded by water. After the Targaryen reign ended my house fell into the shadows. I assumed I would die in that castle until my father declared I was to wed Jaime Lannister."

"But we are seeing the world, D." Chezney attempted to say.

Sending her a glare I wasn't finished. "Until we're shipped off to Casterly Rock surrounded by the ocean once more. Forgive me, Robb but what I want is something I shall never have."

"I understand, my lady." He replied softly. "You want love and adventure. Same as I."

I chuckled lightly at the eldest Stark boy. "Aren't we a pair."

Chezney turned her attention away from our conversation hearing the galloping of hooves coming our direction. Robb and I soon noticed it and turned our heads over our shoulders seeing a Stark knight. "My lord, my ladies. Lady Stark sent me to retrieve you for the feast tonight."

"Thank you, ser. We were just on our way back." Robb nodded at one of his father's men.

Chezney and I watched the knight remain there where she spoke up. "Was there something else, ser?"

"Ser Jaime wishes to see his betrothed before the feast tonight. I was informed to escort you to him." The knight said.

Tugging the cloak closer around me I huffed following Robb back on foot. Chezney was behind us and the knight followed from behind even though I didn't feel afraid in these woods. "And so it begins." Getting back to the castle I didn't bother with changing out of my muddy clothes if he wished to see me it would be like this. The Stark knight led me through some hallways until we reached the chambers we had been given by Lord Eddard for our time being here.

The Stark knight held open the door and I shooed him away where he shut the door before my betrothed ever uttered a word. "I was wondering if you were ever coming back or had you and your lady in waiting scampered off to the woods with that boy."

"The boy's name is Robb. Now what is it you wished to see me for?" I questioned him.

Jaime smirked, taking a step towards me. "Ah already on a first name basis are you. Tell me are you more intrigued by such danger of getting caught. Because I can gladly help you with your desire before the wedding in a few weeks."

"Hah. I have no desire to share your bed." I scoffed.

He shook his head. "But you'll have to at some point."

"Not by my choice." I sniped, closing Robb's cloak tightly around me. "If you called me here just to make flirty remarks I must be ready for the feast."

"I have something for you actually. If you're interested." Spinning on my heels I headed towards the door until he spoke up. He went over to a crate drawing out something long wrapped in a cloth sheet. He unwrapped it revealing a shiny new blade.

Tilting my head to the side I slowly moved away from the door admiring the newly forage sword that he had placed on the edge of the bed. "Did you have it made for me?"

"I did my best to get the balance right. If it's too heavy I can have the blacksmith change it." He said back to me.

Slowly wrapping my fingers around the handle I took a hold of it with both hands. Swinging it lightly around I could feel much better balance than the one I held at Kings Landing. "This is much better but I don't understand. Why do this for me?"

"It's very unlikely we will fall in love with this arrangement. So I thought I'd do something to make you happy. I saw that we are both in our true element when we were sword fighting. It's yours, Haelesa." Jaime explained resting his right hand on his hip.

Laying the sword down on the bed I sent him a tiny smile. "Thank you, Jaime."

"You're welcome. Now you best get ready for tonight. We can practice before we leave here in a few days." He says while I put the sword back in its holder and headed for the door.

Opening the door I halted in my tracks seeing his sister standing there where I quickly gave her my best curtsy. "Your grace."

"Little Velaryon." She greets me with a stern look walking past me and into her brother's chambers. Once the door was shut behind the young Velaryon Cersei changed her entire demeanor towards her brother. "What exactly do you hope to gain with her?"

Jaime sat down on the bed confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I am talking about. I have spies everywhere in the city. They told me about you sword fighting with her and her lady in waiting. Now you present her with her own sword. Father won't be happy with that."

He rolled his eyes. "Father has rarely ever been happy with anything we've done in our lives."

"Probably because you and our monster of a brother never did what he wanted. Like jumping off the side of the Rock when we were children." She grumbled to him.

Jaime rolled his eyes. "There was nothing wrong with what I did until you told him about it. Now is there something you want to tell me or did you just come to snoop on me?"

"I came to warn you of her. She won't love you. She's a child and she will never have what we have." Cersei stepped closer to him, throwing her bright red dress around as she went.

Jaime dropped his hands in his lap. "Don't tell me you're jealous of the Velaryon girl. She doesn't want this marriage. The only thing I can do is make it look like this can work between us. If I make it clear that I am with you both our heads will be on spikes."

"You let me worry about my drunk husband. And remember that father doesn't care if you make her slightly happy or not." The queen of the seven kingdoms eyed her brother.

He got to his feet snagging her wrist and bringing her to his embrace. "Lannisters don't act like fools. It's the family name that lives on. Nothing else matters."

"So give her a child and then be done with her. That's the plan." She nodded to him in agreement sepering from him and leaving him to prepare for the feast herself.

I wasn't familiar with the rules of many feasts where the royal family was present. Thankfully I wasn't the one hosting such an event. I simply had to represent my house to the best of my ability. Chezney and I made our way down the cold stone stairs that led into the large dining hall. "I can't believe we're here together, Hael."

The feast

"It's not that exciting." I told her where she huffed and I knew I needed to change my attitude about this. "I'm sorry, Chez. This just doesn't feel like me. All the formalities, gowns and accessories. I don't care for it all."

She squeezed my arm that was looped through hers. "Yeah. I suppose you'd rather be running through the woods like a wilding."

"I wouldn't say that - oh I'm sorry." I accidentally bumped into a young girl with dark brown hair and a messy dress. Tilting my head to the side I recognize her as the youngest Stark daughter. "You're Arya aren't you?"

She spun around on her feet. "You're the Velaryon girl. Come sit with me." She takes hold of my hand and drags me to her seat with Chezney trailing behind us and pulling up a chair for herself.

"So how boring are these things normally?" Chezney asked the young girl.

Arya sticks her tongue out. "Extremely. I don't like them. But I can't stand that either. I'm Arya, what's your name?"

"I'm Haelesa and this is Chezney." Following her gaze I saw that her older sister Sansa was gossiping with her friends. She kept aweing the blonde haired prince who was looking in her direction. I couldn't blame her for not liking it. Yes he was cute and had the title of Prince but that wasn't important if he was a brute. "I see that. I never had any sisters to relate to."

"She was stuck with me. I think I do a rather good job." Chezney throws an arm over my shoulder.

Arya smiled, grabbing her fork and getting some cake on the end of it. "Watch this, it'll be funny."

"Arya!" Sansa gasped shapely when the cake from the fork smashed on her cheek. Some of it fell and got on her dress which caused laughter to fill the hall. Covering my mouth with my hands I couldn't contain the laughter that fell from my lips. Chezney nearly fell backwards off her chair.

At that time Lady Stark sent her eldest son a look sending him over to the three of us. Robb began coming in our direction where I warned the girl. "Run Arya."

"Come on. Get some more." Chezney attempted to help her get some more cake on her fork to do it a second time.

Scrambling to my feet I moved around in the blue dress I wore hoping to block him from his sister. "Haelesa, what are you doing?" He chuckled moving but I got in front of him at every step.

"Keeping you from her, what does it look like?" I teased him with a grin.

Robb made a move but I jumped in front of him yet again. He kept his hands at a distance where if he had he could easily beat me here. He was much faster and stronger after all. "My mother wants me to put her to bed before she embarrasses us more tonight."

"Sorry Robb. But it's three against one." I chuckled seeing his eyes shift from me to my best friend and his sister then back to me. "What's the problem, Stark. Afraid to fight a girl?"

He answered my question. "I was raised not too."

"It's all in good fun." I responded.

Chezney nudged Arya who bent her spoon back and launched cake in his face. He ran toward her and he almost grabbed her until I jumped on his back and we went tumbling to the cold floor. "Haelesa!" He called out my name in a fit of laughter.

"Ha we beat you." Chezney teased him with Arya proudly at her side.

Robb rubbed the back of his head while I brushed the dirt off my dress. "Yes you did. Now off to bed you." He forced himself to his feet pushing his sister towards the hallway.

"At least you're not a sore loser, Stark." My best friend sticks her tongue out.

I pushed myself up to stand on my own feet not bothering with fixing my messy hair. I felt my chest rising up and down knowing I was enjoying myself at this moment. "Uh, I need some air." I told the pair sensing that someone was watching me. I was right to assume so because Jaime was leaning up against the wall watching the whole moment between us. I didn't feel comfortable being myself with him watching me.

"I'll come with you." Robb offered me his arm since I wasn't familiar with the grounds and it was nightfall now so it was easy for me to get lost.

Chezney waved bye to us. "See you later." She saw Robb and I walk away from the feast yet she wasn't the only one watching in the room.

Unknown to the young pair King Robert and his friend Lord Eddard were the ones watching them. "Ned, there's something we should talk about."

"Of course." He agreed to his friend leaving the feast.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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porcupine-girl · 2 years ago

Note

I wanna hear about scrivener 👀

OH BOY

I saw I had an ask and I was like oh man I hope someone asked me about scrivener.

I write everything in Scrivener. Not just all my fic. I wrote my dissertation in Scrivener, I write my original fiction in it, I wrote the two magazine articles I've published in it.

First I will link you to my Scrivener tag, which probably contains everything I will say here because I never do shut up about it.

So first off, I will admit that Scrivener is not for everyone. Some people work better with linear programs like Word or GDocs without any bells or whistles.

HOWEVER

It is important to know that you can totally 100% use Scrivener without any bells or whistles. In fact, I recommend it at first! Don't overwhelm yourself. Then start to play with the cool features one by one.

I got it in 2014, and literally my fic writing skyrocketed immediately. Same for my dissertation when I started doing that in Scrivener a few months later. It's so good for my brain. It might not be for yours. But it might be just the thing.

I will put most of my gushing under a cut. My brain is only half-functional right now which probably means I'll go on and on and both repeat myself AND forget half the things I want to say.

Things I have done with Scrivener that I can't do with other programs:

I keep all my fic in one Scrivener file, which is called a "project." All of it. Every word of fic I've written since 2014. This does not slow it down AT ALL. In Word if I get over a few dozen pages it starts to crawl. I have well over 1.5 million words of fiction in this project, organized into many subdocuments and folders, and it is smooth as silk and easy to navigate. See the video below.

Why do I keep it all in one project? I'm so damn "out of sight out of mind." When I had all my fic in separate documents in a folder, it was so easy to forget what was there. I'd be working on one thing and forget anything else existed. If I closed that file and didn't open a new one I'd forget that working on fic was a thing I could do. No more! It's all right there in the sidebar so I can switch between fics whenever I want. And I basically just keep it open 24/7, it opens automatically when I reboot my computer.

I do other stuff this way too. All my picture books are in one project, all my magazine stuff is in one project. Love it.

When doing my dissertation I created my own citation manager within scrivener. This is Advanced Scrivening but it shows the versatility.

I used the notecard/corkboard view for this. It's also very useful for things like listing out plot points and figuring out how they fit together.

I don't write as nonlinearly as I used to but I still sometimes need to skip ahead to get a scene out of my head or because I just don't know what comes next but I know what comes after that. Scrivener makes that super duper easy.

I can also make documents within my fic that aren't the text of the fic. I usually have at least one for my outline, and sometimes have one or two for brainstorming when I'm stuck on a plot point or for keeping track of timelines and such. I often also have a doc where I dump cut bits that I might want to use later (or in another fic entirely - anything I know I need to cut but that might come in handy someday).

For original fiction you can get lots of templates that have various things you can use like character sheets or plot beats or whatever. You can have all your character sheets etc right there in the project.

You can put other stuff in it besides scrivener docs. You can drop entire PDFs into your scrivener file, let alone images and such. When I say I had a citation manager within it I mean I literally had the PDFs of the papers in there too. I use this a lot for my nonfiction writing stuff.

There's a split screen mode that's so useful. Sometimes when I'm editing I'll make a copy of a chapter or whatever so that I can keep an eye on what it used to look like to remind myself of where I want to go with it etc etc. Or I might keep the outline over there, or a character sheet, or whatever.

There's a revision mode that will keep track of up to five text colors for different revision stages - BUT what I use it for is tracking my word count. I do all new writing in revision mode, then every so often (especially if I'm about to delete a chunk) I select everything that's whatever color and record the word count in my word count text doc before removing the revision color. Then as soon as I go back to writing everything new that I type is the color again, I don't have to remember to set it back each time. IDK if how I worded that quite makes sense but it works great.

Here is a video I made a while back showing my fic project - as you can see, the ONLY time it slows down at all is when I try to view ALL OF IT at once, which I only ever do very occasionally out of idle curiosity as to my total wordcount. I just checked - I actually now have nearly 2 million words in this project right now. Can you even imagine trying to navigate a 2 million word Word file? That's about 8000 pages. No thank you.

youtube

Also there are mobile versions but I haven't gotten around to downloading those yet. I really should though; when I get the urge to write in the middle of the night on my phone I do it in an email and send it to myself and in the morning I paste it into scrivener lol

Anyhow, I highly recommend trying out the free trial (which is 100% functionality for 30 days) and seeing if it works for you. If you want to buy it, you can find various deals all over the place - for example, a code for Nano participants for 20% off, or if you win nano I think you can get 50% off.

I will say, it's not the best for formatting. I've said this before - I view it very much as a writing program, not a finished-product-creating program. I move my writing to Pages or OpenOffice if I need actual formatting beyond the most basic stuff like bold and italics. Fic I can just put right into AO3, though.

#scrivener #it's me the walking talking scrivener ad

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griseldabanks · 27 days ago

Note

1, 2, 7-10, 14, 17, and 23 for the Fic Writer's Ask, please?

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Probably my Captain America fic Make Me Whole, which is about what would happen if Steve decided to save the Winter Soldier without knowing that he's Bucky. It's the kind of thing where, if you like this fic, there's a good chance you'll find some other fics of mine to your liking; if you don't like this fic, you probably won't care for most of my other writing either. And while it's the first of an ongoing series, it provides a fairly satisfactory ending in itself, if you don't want to read any more.

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

"Angst," "Alternate Universe," and "Angst & Hurt/Comfort." Yep, sounds about right! I love me a good AU, and I'm all about that angsty angsty goodness.

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

I'm pretty pleased with the worldbuilding I did for Creta in my FMA fic of skulls and secrets. I went for "vaguely Italian" for inspiration, and also researched some real-world alchemists to rework into the story I wanted to tell. One of my favorite parts of writing that fic was writing Ed speaking Cretan, which he's good at reading but terrible at speaking, so it's kind of like he's translating each word separately as he hears it rather than understanding the sentence as a whole. For example: "I myself never seeing, never asking about either was. Alchemy—too many brains for this of mine head!"

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

From the first time I heard it, "Still Be You" by David Hodges sounded to me like a soulmate AU. I may write it someday myself (since nobody knows David Hodges, alas), but the trick is deciding exactly how the soulmate stuff works, and what characters it would be about.

9. How do you find new fic to read?

I have a backlog of fics I want to read from the past, like, ten years at least, so I'm all set XD (And what puts it on that list is usually either a recommendation from someone I trust or an author that I read one fic and liked, so I decided to go through all their other fics.

10. How do you decide what to write?

What grabs me and won't let go? What plot bunnies gnaw at me in the dark watches of the night as I try to fall asleep? What is such a good idea that it pushes past the insecurity and laziness so I end up writing it despite myself?

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

You know, the first thing that popped into my head was the fic my friend @dairogo wrote subverting the "there was only one bed" trope. She's probably the only one I'd trust to do that right XD

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

Now, that would be telling ;)

Uhh...most of the ideas floating around in my head are AUs, really, and a lot of them are ones with the potential to be popular if I ever get around to writing them, like the FMA/Firefly crossover I've been wanting to do for years. But I think I'll go with a Final Fantasy X fic I actually have all planned out but just too many other things I'd rather write first. It would be called The Path to Sin, and it's based on an FFX RP I did way back in the day that fell apart with no satisfying conclusion, but then I brainstormed the rest of the story with my brother one summer. It was super fun, and basically went from "just another summoner's voyage to defeat Sin" to a really epic alternate story of how Sin could be defeated for good. I don't even remember all the details, but it would make a really epic chapterfic...unfortunately, I feel like very few people would know/care enough about FFX to bother reading it, so the motivation to actually write it is pretty low at this point ^^'

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

After thinking about this too much, I'm going with my answer for number 8. I've never written a soulmate AU, but I kinda want to if I can figure out a really good story for it.

Fic Writer Ask Game

#ask and you shall receive #valiantarcher #ask games

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naranjapetrificada · 7 months ago

Note

3, 4, 17 for the fic writer asks! <3

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

If you want to play, pick your fic writing question(s) from this list!

I already answered 3 here, but as for the rest:

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I guess it depends on what you define "written" as? Like if written means "finished work" then there's the captive/different first meeting AU I was working on before my current WIP that should count. The preliminary work I did on that was the first time I ever thought a longfic was possible, and I want to circle back around to it eventually because I think I've got a fun twist on the captive trope in mind.

Another idea that fits the description above is a fic of a fic, the incredible In Favor With Their Stars. I've got a couple paragraphs of prose and in line with the way the original story is written, some command lines written as well. The idea for it is existentially devastating though so I'm not sure I'll ever be able to write it. I was lucky enough to get to talk to mxmollusca about it and they approved/encouraged me to keep going so idk, someday.

If you mean something I haven't done work on, well, I guess the closest thing I have to that is something I was thinking about when the season 2 teaser first dropped. It was going to be shortish piece in the vein of "let's just get it out of our system" smut where Ed spent the whole time desperately trying to capture it all in his memory, to the point where he wouldn't really be experiencing it at all. The more we learned about the season, the less viable the idea seemed so I eventually scrapped it.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Well. Talking about the latter is going to be much more concrete than the former, so let's get that out of the way first.

As someone with not one, but two creative writing degrees, I can tell you that actual CWR classes are incredibly hit or miss. My experience was such a mixed bag, including how much better most of the teachers I had in undergrad were than in grad school. It was one of those undergrad teachers who gave me the one piece of writing advice that I've never, ever abandoned: during the revision process (emphasis on "vision"), instead of tweaking an existing document, try rewriting the new draft in a brand new doc.

Maybe it's not something everyone needs to do, but it's something I very much have to do. I do it every time, without fail, and my writing is the better for it. Once I actually start it's hardly a hardship for me, although that probably varies person to person. The quality of every aspect of my writing grew by leaps and bounds once I started doing it. It forces me to truly look at my work in a way I can never really see it otherwise.

As for the writing process itself? That's a lot fuzzier. In some ways, I'm still figuring out what that means for me now that I'm exclusively writing fic. Because my relationship with the experience of writing has fundamentally changed, I guess it makes sense that the way I do it might too.

That's doubly true now that I work from home on a schedule that's not exactly 9-5. I don't have a set time to sit down and do it, nor a daily word quota. Some days I write nothing. Some days I write 50 words. Some days I write 5000. The days I write nothing are usually days I never got around to opening whatever my working document is, because once it's open I'll usually have something to say. I'm sure if I worked more consistently I could work faster, but that would come at the expense of sustainability. In order for writing to be sustainable for me right now, it can't not reward me for it somehow. I have to be enjoying myself or I'll grow to resent it.

#ask games #ask game #asked and answered #ofmd #fic writing #writing process

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offeistyfire · 2 years ago

Text

continued

@smugsurgeon

The last few months felt like a blur in time. Because Sylvie Brett was struggling; she was trying to compartmentalize it all; to tell herself she was okay. To tell herself it was normal to miss someone you loved. And man did she love Matt, he was the perfect guy. It had taken so long for her; to accept how she felt about him. For her to be okay with falling in love with him. And finally he had said it back; he loved her; and for a bit a few months we were on solid ground; on the same page. Until the shoe dropped he wanted to move to Orgen, he wanted to be there for two kids that lost a fallen dad years ago and who had to witness their mother going into jail; it was a hard pill to swallow. I knew Matt; his mind was made up, the other thing he was unsure of was me. I had done the whole following a guy before and it never ended well in my experience.

As much as I loved Matt I refused to be the one to give up my life, my apartment, my career for a relationship that wasn’t a sure thing. I convinced myself into believing long distance could work. I convinced myself that I was okay. I pretended by putting on a poker face with my friends; but the reality was, I was not remotely okay. I missed him. I missed waking up next to him; I missed hearing his voice, the list went on and one. I felt like my life was consumed based on when i’d hear a call from him, or a message. I hadn’t been sleeping right which was the result of tonight. Why I like a patient get advantage of me, why I had let the patient run when I was hurt. I was a well qualified paramedic, i knew how to approach patients; especially when distraught. Yet I had froze, I had messed up. I cared so deeply, I had the passion to keep pretending to be okay. But tonight opened my eyes. I couldn’t keep living like this; I had to prioritize myself. I had to let go of a great love; we’d always have someday. Connor he was a good guy. We’ve talked in passing due to the patients we see; but tonight was the first time we talked; on a more personal level.

He cared enough to drive me home; to not pry into my deeper thoughts. He cared enough to grab dinner, and keep me company. I was a patient for him; meaning if my arm had come off worse from the stitches it would fall on him. That’s the most logical explanation as to why he wanted to drive me home; ensure my safety. It was sweet; of course I heard the rumors of his tenacity with women. He was a player; but that wasn’t the vibe I got. I think he was misunderstood and he let the whispers occur. But I never judged a book on its cover; which was confirmed when he spoke the phrase to me.

“ I don’t judge, based on what I see. You’re a good guy Connor. Someday a woman will see it. I am sorry about Robin and the hassle the hospital probably gives you on your lack of dating life.” A harmless joke towards the end. It was nice to laugh again. To find a reason to joke and smile. The circumstances could’ve been avoided; my lack in judgement tonight; but Connor was somehow bringing a light back to my face.

Head tilted towards the window. I felt the slight ache in my arm; which is why my free hand had placed itself almost comforting over the bandaged wound. I just wanted to eat and rest, that’s why tonight looked like in my mind. I just hoped Connor didn’t mind sticking around for a few hours. Friends? It was a nice idea; to be able to turn towards someone who didn’t know Matt who might be on my side, why I felt torn with myself. A small hint of a smile creeped onto the corners of my lips.

“ Friends, I’d like that. Assuming you don’t mind hearing about all my baggage, it might have you running for the hills.” A quip a joke well partly because where I was emotionally felt like baggage. Nearing the restaurant; for the chinese food; I had let my eyes drop closed briefly.

Easy to joke; to tease of the idea of another dinner; eyes lifted again to narrow my light hues on the male driving. “ In other words next time we go out, I have to get injured to get the kind of food I want, noted.” A laugh emitted through bare lips.

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mdhwrites · 10 months ago

Note

Reccomendations for cartoons to watch include: Gravity Falls, Adventure Time, Regular Show, the later seasons of MLP Friendship is Magic (for the sake of completing it and being able to properly evaluate the show), Steven Universe, DuckTales 2017, OK KO, Big City Greens, Star vs the Forces of Evil, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Kim Possible, Hilda, Helluva Boss, Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated, She Ra 2018, and the Ben 10 franchise.

I actually still have another ask that is mostly this same list but I think Hilda and Helluva Boss are new. Mostly responding because something I find interesting about myself given how ruthless I can be with TOH is that, well...

I probably will never truly be able to be some big reviewer because when I start disliking something, I drop it. That's actually the big reason I'm responding is because there is NO WAY I am watching the like 4+ seasons of MLP:FiM that I didn't watch because I just can't engage with stuff I dislike. I find no joy in it and while I can rant for a couple episodes, it just loses my interest.

I never seek things out because I think I'll dislike them. I just don't think life is enjoyable that way. It's why I have no plans to return to Helluva Boss. I absolutely believe people would potentially send me asks about it with how polarizing it is but I got to the episode when Moxie and Blitzo are interrogated, went "Ah, I see, the two characters I hate the most and don't even find funny (Stolas and Blitzo) are the actual main characters and the pilot was potentially kind of a lie for what the real focus of the show is. I'm out." And I haven't watched an episode since. My brain struggles to click with media after all so why would I bother with media I actively know I dislike already?

I'll comment on a couple others that I have at least had experience with on the list in a minute but since Amphibia, I've watched the first season of Craig of the Creek and think that show is just AMAZING. There's at least one episode I keep wanting to do a blog on just because it exemplifies how much the show understands the wonder of fantasy and childhood without actually being fantastical. I've also seen S1 of SpyxFamily and some of S2 but right now the only streaming service I have consistent access to is Hulu (the Disney+ I was borrowing cancelled theirs to swap to Hulu) and they only have S1 dubbed of SpyxFamily.

I'm hoping to sometime soon actually watch Over the Garden Wall finally and just have been kind of a mess as of late as for why I haven't yet. I've heard only good things, and shockingly few spoilers, and it's about time I gave it a proper shot.

ANYWAYS:

Steven Universe: Watched the first episode and only really liked Greg so just didn't bother watching more. Steven was fine but I actively hated all three of the gems because of how brain dead they were in both segments of the episode. As far as pilots go, I think SU might genuinely have one of the worst I've ever seen for convincing you to like a main cast.

Gravity Falls: I rewatched the first episode recently and went "This is oooookay." Something about Dipper's VA just bothers me. Not like they're doing a bad job but that it falls into an uncanny valley my brain doesn't love. I really wish I could better explain why that show refuses to properly click for me.

Regular Show: I forget why but I've seen a few episodes. It's not bad but I don't think it's really for me. I find Rigby and Mordecai annoying more than anything else. Not awful but I think without it feeling like they're actually meant to be learning something, they fall into the trap Randy and Howard from Randy Cunningham fell into eventually for me where I was like "Okay, assholes can be fun for a while but if that's all you're ever going to be, I don't care."

Adventure Time: I have seen as many episodes where Fiona and Cake show up in that show than I have Finn and Jake. XD I have genuinely liked what I've seen and just for some reason never sought it out. Maybe someday.

Star Vs: I need to give S2 a chance but MAN when I got told they break up Marco and Jackie for NO REASON I lost a lot of interest in the show. I like Marco more than Star, and I've only seen S1, and thought Marco and Jackie's relationship was genuinely really nice and kind of unique. Also knowing it's most people's cartoon punching bag doesn't exactly fill me with enthusiasm for it.

Kim Possible: I remember rewatching the pilot a couple years ago and being shocked by how much I didn't care for Kim. I think the fact that Bonnie is the only one who gives her shit but she's actually just genuinely amazing at everything and liked by most make her just not compelling to me which is a shame because I have REALLY fond memories of the show. I'd probably commit to a rewatch of Danny Phantom first though since it has been just as long since I watched that.

(Weird fact: I was looking at Hulu's unfortunately limited amount of cartoons and saw they had Kick Buttowski of all things which is WILD to me.)

She-Ra: I've seen literally one episode, thought it was good, and definitely is one of the ones I keep telling myself to watch because everything about it seems like it'd be up my alley. These are also my thoughts on Voltron though with how much... less divisive that last season of Voltron is, it's definitely below watching Princesses of Power.

Ben 10: Loved the original series as a kid, tried the first two spin offs that came out and didn't really jive with either but I thought Julie, the tennis girl Ben gets with, was super cute. I know a friend who would LOVE to see me get into Ben 10 and do some reviews of it.

And just as an anime shout out, a part of me is still tempted to give Little Witch Academia another try. Not only is it just an obvious next show for me to watch but it's one I REALLY want to like because I like a lot about it... I just absolutely despise Akko from the like four episodes I watched a good number of years ago now. I thought almost all of the supporting characters were great though.

Just... Consider this my weird, rambly blog late at night about cartoons and the fact that I do wish I engaged with media better. One of the worst elements of it is that I don't engage well with scripted content well if my brain isn't already in an alright place. Like I don't go to television for distraction and cheering me up. I vastly prefer streams for that as I can actually turn my brain off during those normally. It's something I've talked about before and something I'd like to change. Heck, I even at one point had a therapy goal to watch something at least once a week since that'd still be easier than streaming or writing. Whoops. *sigh*

I do also appreciate the recommendations! The reminders are good sometimes since I don't feel like I actually stay in the loop all that well. And since I kind of assume this is the same person who sent a list before, I decided I felt like actually responding, especially because the MLP pitch is an interesting one but man... That's a LOT of Starlight Glimmer I'd have to put up with when just like six episodes of her as a good guy made me want to light both her and Twilight on fire to put them out of their, and mine, misery. That's without me getting into the fact that I just think the characters in general got worse by then, almost like series shouldn't last for that long because finding new angles on characters becomes REALLY HARD (says the dumbass with a series of his own that honestly is longer than he should reasonably plan a story for.)

Again, late night rambling while my brain deals with suddenly snapping out of a hyper focus on a game for three days and doesn't deal with that well. *sigh* Have a good night everyone, take care of yourself and see you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#Rambles

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debaroohoo · 2 years ago

Text

So I'm buying a house. Like. A whole dang house. As someone who's pretty terrible at being an adult, this process is terrifying. I keep going back and forth between being excited and wondering what the hell I think I'm doing. In an effort (probably in vain) to keep my brain focused on the latter, I'm making a list. All pros, no cons since I don't need that in my life right now.

Hopefully no more very brief power blips at the start of minor storms that like to happen when I'm in the middle of playing a video game. This actually happened earlier and what prompted me to start typing this up as I waited for my internet connection to come back.

No more sharing a wall with a guy who likes to crank up his music for a couple hours each night. Headphones are useless, my brain knows it's there, so it seeks out the annoyance against my wishes.

No more sharing a…floor? with people who like to yell at their barking dog and crying child to shut up.

I'll finally have a bathroom (2 bathrooms!) that hasn't been used by strangers. Removing the sliding shower door and cleaning the questionable crud on the bottom a few years ago nearly made me throw up three times (that is not an exaggeration) and I've never felt truly clean since then.

No more living right next to the county fairgrounds. Hearing cows and sheep and roosters once or twice a year is kinda fun. Concerts so loud that the noise makes my walls and windows shake, not so much.

More room for activities!! And storage. Really looking forward to the storage and having more shelving so I don't have to keep any of my favorite junk hidden away in boxes.

A better kitchen! There are some recipes I haven't tried in a while (or never tried at all) since I don't have enough storage space (see above) to keep various cooking gear on hand.

A GARAGE!!!!!! My poor car hasn't had a roof over it's head for most of its life and I'm tired of how filthy it gets. The headlights have so much built up gunk on them I haven't bothered trying to clean since being outdoors 24/7 means it'd probably get bad again eventually. I'm weirdly looking forward to cleaning those and wonder if there'll be a noticeable difference in the light quality.

No more lugging groceries up the stairs. The garage leads right into the kitchen plus I won't have to shut the back hatch between trips if I can't carry everything in one go since I'm paranoid someone might try something funny in the few seconds my car would be out of my sight. Plus, I won't have to worry about wasps trying to build a nest in the door cracks. ...Hopefully.

Garbage and recycling pick up! I'm mainly happy that I won't have to take my recycling to a drop off center anymore. I tend to let it pile up…

Closer to family! I currently live on the opposite side of town. It's not a long drive to see them, but it'll be nice to be only 2-5 minutes away.

Customizing!!! I know I can technically paint the walls in my apartment if I wanted to, but putting everything back to normal before moving out would be a headache. If I want to go ham and Jackson Pollock up a wall I can do as I damn well please.

I will have a patio! It's small but it's a place to put a chair outside!! I can sit outside and not have to worry about making eye contact with neighbors!!!

Complementary to #13 - I will have a YARD! I can GO TOUCH GRASS. I can get a DOG someday. I'll have to get a fence installed first which won't be cheap, but that's okay because DOG.

The front door is purple. PURPLE. That was actually a paint choice the builder had and I took it. When I give directions to my house I can tell people it's the one with the purple door. No one tell my dad. He would uh...totally approve and I want it to be a surprise. Yeah.

I can mount a TV. Again, I technically could do it in my apartment but I don't really trust the walls to hold up… Anyway, I have a plan to move my consoles and other things currently hooked up on the TV stand to a shelf where I can have better cable management. That means no more cable jungle! Seriously, I wonder if the space behind my TV can be considered a fire hazard.

I think that's all I've got for now? I'll probably think of more to add to the list, but that covers most of it. If you read all that…what the hell man, I appreciate it but I know you've got better things to do with your time.

#deb rants #text post #seriously ya'll I'm a millenial I'm not supposed to be able to buy a house #like most millenials I can only afford it thanks to the help of family #I'm incredibly lucky to have parents trying to make it as easy as possible for me

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rubyleaf · 1 year ago

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Went through my blog again for the funsies and discovered an old, old tag game from 2016. And boy, am I shaking my head at it. Not only is 17-year-old me hilariously and stubbornly convinced she's straight, she's also very self-deprecating and generally not in a good place.

So I thought: why not answer these questions again, over seven years later, just to see how things have changed?

So here goes. The update.

MOST RECENT:

Drink: Water! I have a glass next to me right now and I'm staying nice and hydrated :) Phone call: Mom, earlier this afternoon, to make sure I'm still healthy and haven't died from acute Moved Out And Living Unsupervised Disease. Shockingly, I'm alive and well. Text: Dad, joking about the Berlin lioness boar thing. I still refuse to believe it was a boar BTW. I don't know what it was, but those pictures do NOT look like a boar.

Song you listened to: Saosin – "You're Not Alone" Time you cried: You know, I genuinely don't remember. Might've been weeks ago. I barely cry anymore these days, except from laughter or the occasional tearing up over a heartwarming scene in a show.

Dated someone twice: No, and unless the circumstances were very special, I wouldn't. If the ship has sailed, it has sailed for a reason. Been cheated on: Single, thriving, in my lane, cannot be cheated on if I don't have a partner. Peace and love on Planet Earth. Lost someone special: Lost touch with many friends over the years. Staying in touch is still hard. But honestly, some of them turned out to not be that special after all in the first place and a lot have stayed too, so really, it's fine. Been depressed: Nah. Been drunk and thrown up: Still don't like alcohol, still don't drink ✌️ Your three favourite colours: Purple! And pink, and the third one…maybe red!

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

Made a new friend: So many. So so many. Fallen out of love: Yep! Laughed until you cried: Just this week alone! Met someone who changed you: I think so! Found out who your true friends are: Yes. And to the people who turned out not to be—thanks for making it easier to watch you leave right now. Found out someone’s talking about you: In the "bringing up my existence" way? Yes. Badly? No—someone probably did, but not my problem.

EXTRAS

How many people from your fb list do you know irl: What Facebook? Do you have any pets: Not at the moment. Hard to keep any in a dorm room. I'd like to maybe get a small dog someday though! Do you want to change your name: Not anymore. When I was little I used to hate my name because everyone kept misspelling or mispronouncing it, but now I like it even if people still get it wrong all the time. Sometimes it still feels weird and othering, in an irrational sort of way, but I can't imagine myself being called anything else. What did you do for your last birthday: Had drinks with some people from my orientation group in one guy's dorm apartment. Casually came out as bi over a game of Never Have I Ever. Wound up at a party even though I had an 8:30 AM class the next morning. Zero regrets. What were you doing last night at midnight? Sitting on my bed and hitting play on the brand-new Meet Me @ the Altar song that dropped last night!!! Name something you can’t wait for: MM@TA EU tour in October! I've been obsessed with them for two years and finally they come here to play some shows and the first time I saw the announcement I legit busted a lip in my excitement. Unfortunately not a hyperbole.

Last time you saw your mum: Last time I visited home—early May I think? What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: Better executive functions so I struggle less with getting stuff done, especially uni stuff and household chores. Currently trying to do something about that, actually! If I'm really lucky I might get an ADHD diagnosis in the foreseeable future and maybe meds…? What are you listening to rn: Fall Out Boy – "We Didn't Start the Fire" Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Often. It's quite a common name where I live! What’s getting on your nerves rn: One word: THESIS. Which I for some reason struggle to do anything about. Blood type: Still unknown! Nickname: Several shorter forms of my civilian name. On here, Ruby. Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Pronouns: she/her Favourite tv show: At the moment: ATLA (and Legend of Korra), Ted Lasso, Good Omens. Probably more I'm forgetting. High school: Graduated in 2016! College: In my Masters! I have an undergraduate degree in law now :D Long or short hair: Long, down to my hips. I used to have short hair as a kid, but I’ve always wanted long hair. Height: 159 cm or 5′2.5′’. Do you have a crush on someone: I try to tell myself that no, I'm just very fond of the person. Platonically. What do you like about yourself: I'm creative and adaptable! I'm good at winging it when the situation requires it, and I usually get things figured out one way or another. I'm a hype woman for my friends, and I like the way I can find joy and excitement in all corners of life. Also, not to toot my own horn but I'm really proud of my style right now! Right or left handed: Right-handed. First surgery: None. Piercing: None. First best friend: Probably Rebecca, in first grade. It’s a shame I moved away, I wonder what she’s doing now. First sport you joined: Ballet, when I was five or six. Kept doing it until early fifth grade, then changed to horseback riding. First vacation: Probably to my grandparents’ vacation home somewhere at the North Sea. Don’t remember a thing though, I was one or something.

RIGHT NOW:

Eating: Nothing. Drinking: Water, still! I’m about to: Hopefully write a bit more for the mystery project 👀 Listening to: Meet Me @ the Altar – "Give It Up"

WANT:

Kids: Yes, eventually. I'd like a stable partner first (although if push comes to shove I wouldn't mind raising my kids solo), and most importantly I'd like to be my own person for a couple of years and not be bound by duty to everyone else. Travel, explore the world and myself, get all that out of my system so I can truly go into motherhood with no regrets. Get married: Yes, if I find the right person to do it with. Career: Study law and work for the EU or an NGO.

WHICH IS BETTER:

Lips or eyes: Eyes. I don't pay much attention to lips outside of someone having a cute smile! Hugs or kisses: Kisses are nice, but I still prefer hugs! Taller or shorter: IDGAF. I still love my tall lanky noodle men, but I'm not picky. With women, even less so. Girl is taller than me? Awesome, great for being held. Shorter than me? CUTE. Older or younger: Around my age, rest doesn't matter. I'm at an age where anything between 20-30 is fair game, but any younger or older and it gets creepy. Romantic or spontaneous: A mixture of both. Nice stomach or nice arms: If the person is nice, their body will be nice too. It's an automatic process. I don't make the rules. Sensitive or loud: A combination of both! Troublemaker or hesitant: Secret third thing where they're chaotic but also too shy to really make a move.

HAVE YOU EVER

Kissed a stranger: Does "someone I talked to all evening but didn't know before that and didn't meet again afterwards" count? Drank liquor: Tried a bit, same as everybody. Found it nasty. Didn't try again. Lost glasses/contacts: Don't have any to lose. (Given the way I've been treating my eyes: yet?) Had sex on the first date: I'm asexual and I refuse. Broke someone’s heart: Yes, and let's leave it at that. Turned someone down: I'm a woman existing in public. Having to turn down random men is a recurring part of my experience. Cried when someone died: Not really—I seem to shut down and go blank more than anything else. I used to feel guilty about it, but now I've learned that everyone processes grief and loss differently and it doesn't mean I care less. Fallen for a friend: Yes, repeatedly, it has yet to end well, and it will probably happen again.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: Mostly yes. There are some things I need help with before I can unlock my full potential, but one thing I've learned is that I always manage in the end. And once I get proper help, I have no doubt I'll be just fine. Miracles: I don't like to rely on them, but I do believe that unlikely good things can and do happen. Love at first sight: Not for myself, I need to get to know a person before I fall for them. I do believe in attraction at first sight though. Heaven: It's a nice thought, but whether or not it exists doesn't matter to me. Our task in life is the same regardless: try to be kind and treat others well and hopefully leave the world a slightly better place. Santa Claus: No, and never really have. My parents never claimed he was real; my Christmas presents always came from the family that visited on Christmas Eve. Kissing on a first date: Did it once, it was okay. I think it's one of those "take it or leave it" things—if the chemistry is right, sure, go for it, but it's definitely not for everyone in every situation.

#warning: VERY long post behind the cut #but also: healing! improvement! look at her; she's okay now!#(mostly—getting there)#personal #I'm just sayin'

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