#potato does crafts

[paranormal-potatoes]

Embroidery dragon?? :0

yeah!!! this thing!! I've been working on it for a few years now bc i was a Fool™️ who chose a freaking big panel as my first embroidery project 🥲

(old photos but I'm out right now and i don't have a whole lot more done anyways)

also it glows in the dark which is the coolest part

[ghoulie-gal]

eugh... i've aged

The birthday lines are. Something.

"Ritsu said it's your birthday so you can rob me ig, go for it"

"Happy birthday! It's time to inject you with new untested drugs, let's go 💕"

I love these little freaks but I will be going with Jabberwock today so I don't die. I couldn't get Haru's birthday line to come up but I was offered potatoes so nonetheless my choice is made

[kcrossvine-art]

G'morning all! Its nice to get back things,. Theres been some roadblocks with med shortages and life, and also with the material for these recipes. So far we've covered a lot of pastries, not because theyre mentioned more often in the series, but because being mentioned lends them more specificity in flavor than things like gravy, peas, or various meats. The latter can be prepped, seasoned, and served in so many different ways that it feels harder to make them 'faithfully' because a packet of instant potato mash is just as faithful as a pot of buttered potato mash. Baked goods tend towards 1, maybe 2, 'base' recipes that get altered and added to. 

 Today, we'll be making Beorn's Honey Cakes! A dish from one of my partners favorite characters- a delectable little treat befitting the… warm personality of the character.

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Beorn's Honey Cakes?” YOU MIGHT ASKSimple stuff! Simple sweet stuff!

All-purpose flour

Baking powder

Salt

Ground nutmeg

Unsalted butter

Whole milk

2 eggs

Honey

Vanilla extract

The veins of honey cakes ancestry can be traced back to any moment where people began baking bread. Honey is a natural preservative, and sweeter still on its lonesome.

AND, “what does Beorn's Honey Cakes taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKLike your aching muscles repairing themselves

Tastes like a honey graham cracker

But the texture is softer, wetter- somewhat like banana bread

Oh, and this will make your house smell So So Good

If you can resist the temptation of eating them immediately, they taste even richer the day after baking

Would pair well with milk green tea

Would also pair well with fresh orange slices (or those chocolate 'orange slices' candy)

Genuinely don't forget to flip them upside down when they go to bake the second time, not sure what it is but i was curious and did a test where i flipped half of the batch upside down and kept the other half of the batch right-side up like they cooked in the muffin tin. The ones i flipped upside down universally had a more consistent texture and the honey was able to permeate further.

.where honey called for, used clover honey

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From start to finish this recipe takes about an hour of work, give or take some negligible time for prep.

The batter is perhaps the babybird of all cake batters. The gloopy, protruding crumbs of butter, not unlike a squabs beady pupils visibly dark under its skin, break up the mass of sickly smooth and reassuringly sweet-smelling oak-colored liquid. You can feel the confusion of bees outside your home, wondering if this your attempt at making royal jelly.

Just like a babybird, it becomes more than the sum of its parts. Layer on that honey drizzle, layer it on thick, theres no risk of drowning subtle flavors. Its crisp edges will keep its form, springy and warm, inviting you as if you're not the one who crafted it (food you didn't cook always tastes better). The bees are sooooooooooooooo jealous of your opposable thumbs and muscular strength.

If you dont have eggs you could try substituting with apple mash. I can't vouch for it in this recipe but replacing eggs with mashed up apples for pancakes gives it adds a nice fruity flavor without changing the texture, and in theory should work here as well.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

270 grams all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp freshly ground nutmeg

1 stick unsalted butter

160 grams milk

2 eggs

110 grams your favorite honey

1 tsp vanilla extract

Muffin tray and parchment paper

Method:

Preheat oven to 350f

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg.

 Add the butter and rub it into the flour with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. 

In a small bowl beat the eggs until just combined. Pour in milk and then vanilla extract while stirring.  Keep stirring vigorously while slowly pouring in honey.

Stir until the mixture is consistent in color.

Pour the liquids over the dry mixture and stir until just combined.

Pour the batter into a greased muffin tray, don't use any muffin paper/lining/cups.

Bake for 16 minutes, or until they reach their full height.

Carefully remove from the muffin pan and place the muffins upside down on a parchment lined tray.

Using a silicone pastry brush, generously cover the tops of the cakes with honey. Allow to sit for about 5 minutes to let the honey soak into the cakes.

Bake for an additional 8-10 minutes, or until the cakes are golden brown.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool.

[blindmagdalena]

imagine being hired by vought to be a sort of housekeeper to homelander, doing his laundry and cooking for him in his penthouse. he’d immediately grow to love having someone to come home to, and would automatically slip into husband mode whenever he finds them doing him some wifely act of service (conveniently ignoring the fact they’re paid to be there, of course)

ao3 link

Working for Vought, specifically Homelander, turns out to be an insanely simple gig. Typically, you never even see him. You're free to do your cleaning in peace, picking up after America's favorite hero. He rarely ever leaves a mess, but there's enough to keep you employed. Tidying up his towels, replacing his hygiene supplies and tooth brushes. You're trained specifically on how to clean his suits. You empty and stock the fridge. He goes through a lot of milk. You always make sure to get whole. He lodged a complaint the one time it was less than. You were told initially that your cooking services wouldn't be necessary. Homelander isn't known to be, well... much of an eater.

Still, you didn't want the food you stocked at the start to go bad, so one day you prepare a few meals and put them in containers in the fridge. You include little notes with instructions on how they should be reheated. You sign each one with a little heart simply because that's how you've always done it, and pin them to the fridge. You think nothing of it. Homelander is dumbstruck by it.

At first he's affronted that you would leave him cold food in his fridge and expect him to heat it up for himself, but there's something distinctly... loving about it. Coming home to his laundry clean and his shelves dusted never felt like that. It was nothing more than a reset, an automatic process that he didn't dedicate any thought to. But this? This is personal. This reminds him that a living, breathing person was in his home, tending to it, and that person... cooked him a meal, and left him a little note. With a heart.

The next morning you get a text that you will indeed be cooking for Homelander that evening! You're in the midst of it, staying later than you usually do, when he walks in the door. You aren't making anything fancy, just steak and mashed potatoes, but he sucks in a breath like he's inhaling the scent of a gourmet meal. His smile is broad and gleaming. It makes your heart skip a beat.

To your surprise, he introduces himself. He shakes your hand firmly, and holds your stare as you remember your manners and manage to spit out your own name. "Charmed," he says through that radiant smile, and you feel like he means it. His eyes are somehow much bluer in person. His gaze flickers to the stove, and he clicks his tongue. "Not to question your craft, but is this really enough for two?" Looking at the steak currently searing, you falter. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you having company? No one told me." "Well of course I'm having company, you silly goose. You're standing right here, aren't you?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips. It's cheesy, like a moment straight out of a sitcom, but you fluster anyways. This man has such presence to him.

"You... want me to eat with you?" You ask, bewildered.

"Be a shame to cook up a storm and not even feel the rain," he laughs, as if you're the one thinking strangely here. He's already gone to the fridge, and pulled out a second steak. He offers it out to you with that same charming television ready grin. "C'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."

Tentatively, you take the package from him. "Okay."

That night, and each night that follows, you cook Homelander a meal at the tail-end of your shift, and sit down to eat with him. It's surreal, but after the second night, it occurs to you that you've never once seen sign of him having company. There's never extra dishes, or towels. No remnants of a party in the trash. If he does have friends, they're certainly never here.

You can't help but wonder if he's lonely. The thought humanizes him from the larger than life image you had of him in your mind, and you have an easier and easier time engaging him in conversation. He's funny, if not a little strange. There are times when you don't really know how to respond to the things he says, but he often moves on quickly enough to keep things from being awkward.

Truth be told, you're starting to quite enjoy his company.

Homelander begins showing up earlier and earlier into your shifts. The next week, it's barely after 4:00pm when he strides through the door, greeting you with a chipper, "Heya!" and a little salute.

You turn off the vacuum, and despite being a little caught off guard, you smile at him. For the first time, you say, "Welcome home!"

For a second, you worry you've said something wrong. That smile slips off his face, and he stands frozen a touch too long in the doorway. However, before you can add an amendment, his lips stretch back out and he closes the door behind him. "Good to be home," he says. There's less of that showmanship in his voice, you think.

"I didn't know you'd be home so early, I haven't finished-" "Oh, don't mind me, you do your thing. Pretend I'm not even here," he insists, taking a seat on his couch.

You expect him to occupy himself in some way. A book, perhaps, or even just his cellphone. Instead, for the next hour you're keenly aware of the fact the only thing he seems to be entertaining himself with is you.

After that, you cook dinner as usual, and the two of you eat amidst pleasant, casual conversation. It's the same as any other night, and yet somehow this evening feels distinctly different. You can't name exactly what it is, but something has changed.

Homelander begins filling out your time with new requests; he's suddenly become quite fascinated with plants. You had mentioned to him before that you like to keep them, despite the work they take. Your shifts grow longer to account for your new tasks.

All the while, he's been more and more present during your shifts. Although he doesn't directly take or distract you from your chores, you're always keenly aware of of his gaze on you while you work. You try not to overthink it, but the weight of his attention is heavy nonetheless.

One day, you're sweeping up a mess of spilled dirt, struggling to maneuver around the legs of a piece of furniture, when Homelander hops up to intervene. "Let me get that for you, sweetheart," he says, lifting the entire cabinet up as if it weighed nothing at all.

You lose yourself for a moment, standing dumbfounded before abruptly remembering to sweep the dirt out from under it, your heart racing. Your mind keeps replaying the pet name, and with every echo of it, your cheeks feel redder. Homelander smiles, watching you all the while. The next day, you arrive to find an enormous bouquet of roses sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. There's a note with your name on it, and a simple message: Thanks for all your hard work. Keep it up! The note is signed with Homelander's sprawling signature. Smiling widely to yourself, you tuck the note into your pocket, and lean in to inhale the sweet smell of the flowers. On another occasion, it's time to clean the blades of the ceiling fan in his room, but you can't find that darn step ladder anywhere. Homelander must hear the way you're shuffling around and muttering under your breath��you swear the man hears everything—because he steps in to check on you. "Everything alright in here?" He asks, peeking in from the doorway. "Oh, fine, fine, I just can't find my step ladder anywhere. Have you seen it?" You ask, feeling flustered. Getting put behind schedule never fails to trip a thread of anxiety in your chest. "Can't say I have," he answers, stepping inside. He looks around the room. "What'cha need it for?" "Ceiling fan. Uhm, it's okay, I'll get to it later, if that's alright with you? I'm sorry, I could have sworn I left that ladder-" You stop yourself, realizing Homelander is suddenly striding directly towards you. Uncertain, you begin to take a step back, but he's fast. He puts an arm around you, and without warning you're being hoisted up into his arms as easily as a doll.

"Up y'go," he says, supporting not only your weight with ease, but resting you snug against his chest. You squeeze your knees together, arms pulled in tight, as if making yourself tiny will somehow protect you from the embarrassing quicken of your breath, or the rampant beat of your heart. "There you go. Who needs a step ladder when you've got me?" He asks, grinning down at you with that familiar dazzling spread of pearly whites. His smile feels better suited to a Hollywood audience than this quiet little moment, but the only thing you can really focus on is the fresh, woodsy smell of his cologne. "Uhm, I-I still don't think I can reach-" You stop, noticing the ceiling fan is now within arms reach. "Oh." Looking down, your eyes widen. Neither of your feet are touching the ground. Instead, Homelander is hovering well above it, holding you adjacent to the fan. You can't help the nervous laughter that suddenly bubbles out of you. "Oh my god," you laugh, looking around. "You're flying!" "As I'm known to do from time to time," he says, voice dripping with satisfaction. His gloved fingers tap absently at your waist, basking in your awe over what is, to him, a wholly unremarkable feat. The sheer normalcy of you makes his every move seem a marvel. He savors your wonder. You're so enamored with the novelty of it, you remember belatedly why you're up here. Clearing your throat, you reach up with the duster, and gently spin the fan, collecting the strands of dust and the like that had gathered on each one. You try your damnedest to focus on that, and not the fact Homelander's face is less than a foot from yours. Out of your peripheral, you can see that his grin has softened into a content, absent smile. Your stomach does cartwheels as you finish dusting the fan, bringing the duster back down. You clear your throat again, pretending it's not a nervous habit. "All done, thank you," you say quietly, smiling back at him.

"Any time, sweetheart," Homelander purrs. There it is again, that coy little nickname that sends your mind into a tizzy. As if that weren't bad enough, he winks at you, floating gently back down to the ground. Your legs feel so much like jelly, you worry you'll collapse the moment you're on your feet. Luckily, even once he's set you down, he leaves a hand lingering on your back. "You got a thing with heights? Your heart's pounding," he points out, much to your mortification. You try to laugh it off. "Oh, no! No, just wasn't expecting it. I'm fine with heights," you say, fumbling with the duster for a second before slipping it back into the cover. "Good," Homelander responds, an oddly cryptic depth to his tone. His smile lingers. "That's good. Alrighty, I'll leave you to it," he says, tipping his head in a polite little nod before he heads for the door, leaving you to your own devices, and the rapid fluttering in your stomach. Later that same day, you're thoroughly perplexed when you spot the step ladder exactly where it's supposed to be, certain you had checked there a dozen times over.

Two weeks from the day you first shared a meal, he presents you with a gift after dinner. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't-" "Please, please! Don't be so formal. It's just a little thing," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Y'know, to show my appreciation. You take such good care of me. Just wanted to return the favor." Butterflies swarm rampant in your gut as you tug loose the pretty red ribbon tied around the box. Uncertain of what to expect, you feel a measure of relief when you lift the lid, and see a lovely apron folded inside it. "You wear this print a lot, figured you could use something, you know, matchy. Feminine," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Your other one's seen better days."

You exhale a soft laugh, touching the fabric. It's soft beneath your fingers, and of excellent quality. The gift is a thoughtful one, and it feels appropriate, despite what the expensive looking wrapping made you think. "You like it?" He asks after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I do! Yes, thank you. It's very nice. I've enjoyed working for you, sir—" You stop when he points a finger at you, his brows raised, and you correct, "—Homelander." He smiles, dropping his hand. "And eating with you. I can't say any of my other clients cared whether or not I ate," you say, chuckling. You think you see his nose twitch strangely at the mention of your other clients.

"Right, well! C'mon, let's see how it looks," he says, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you over to the mirror near the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. Homelander takes the box from your hands and presents it to you, allowing you to lift the apron up and let it unfold. Odd, it feels a touch heavier than you expected. You sling it around your neck, but before you can reach back to tie it, Homelander has taken it upon himself to do it for you. He cinches it at your waist with a sharp little tug, grinning at you from over your shoulder as he meets your eye in the mirror. "Loooook at that, perfect fit," he purrs, tying the ends off. "It's beautiful, thank y—" Smoothing your hands down the front of it, you stop. There's something in the right pocket of the apron. Glancing up, Homelander has a mischievous glint to his expression, but his brows raise, and his lips curl down. He's playing dumb.

Curiously, you slip your hand into the pocket, and feel smooth velvet against your fingers. Wrapping your hand around a firm rectangle, you draw it out, and feel your stomach flip as you stare at the distinctly luxurious looking black box now in your hands. "Oh, geeze, totally forgot that was even in there," Homelander says. His tone is terribly unconvincing, but he does sound very pleased with himself. "Whelp, you've already accepted, so I guess it's yours now." "I—" "Go on," he urges, giving your shoulders a little shake. He's watching you eagerly through the mirror. "Open it up. It's all yours."

Swallowing, you crack the box back on it's hinges. Your jaw drops, your chest tightens. You stare at the shimmering three-stone drop diamond necklace in utter disbelief. You don't even feel Homelander let go of your shoulders, or hear him slide off and drop his gloves to the nearby table. "Oh my god," you whisper. You probably couldn't afford the box this thing was sold in, let alone a single stone on it. "I don't think I can accept this, sir," you say, slipping back into the habit of formality as your brain struggles to catch up to reality.

"Oop, too late for that," Homelander dismisses, plucking the delicate necklace up from the fabric it lay in. "Here, allow me," he says, ignoring your shellshock while he drapes the necklace against your skin, his bare fingers brushing the back of your neck as he gets it fastened.

Breathless, you tentatively touch the bottom diamond. Your mouth feels full of cotton, and your heart is racing. Is this really happening?

Meanwhile, Homelander grips your upper arms, beaming. "Look at you. You know what they say about diamonds; they're a girl's best friend," he laughs, those canines of his looking sharper than ever.

Giving your arms a squeeze, Homelander leans close to your ear. "Happy two weeks," he whispers, the heat of his breath on your neck prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. "Thank you," you whisper back, pushing out a bewildered little smile.

Homelander lingers there a moment, the warmth of his hands on your arms seeping through the fabric of your shirt. His smile has relaxed some, and his gaze is slightly distant as he looks you up and down in the mirror. You see a flash of pink as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. It isn't until you clear your throat that his eyes snap back up to yours, regaining presence of mind. "I should get going," you say gently. His fingers flex on your arms, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Right," he says, lips pulling into a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. This is always his least favorite part of the night. With obvious reluctance, he drops his hands from your arms. "Right, ah, let me—" "Unless..." You interject, turning to face him. Homelander's brows shoot up to his hairline. He blinks. "Unless...?" "Unless you'd like me to stay," you say quietly, your stomach tying itself in knots. "Not as your housekeeper, but maybe as just... Company?"

"Company," he echoes, his parted lips slowly drawing into a smile. This one does reach his eyes. "We could watch a movie."

"I like movies," you say. The words sound dumb to you as soon as they leave your lips, but Homelander looks at you like you've just spun a beautiful sonnet. "Great, I have movies," he says, putting a hand on your lower back as he gestures you to the living room. His smile is broad now, eager and a touch boyish. You feel a little surge of endearment amidst the adrenaline. "What do you want to watch?" "Dealers choice," you say, slipping out of the apron before you take a seat at the couch. Homelander immediately busies himself with the television, flipping through Vought+'s enormous repertoire.

Still in a mild daze, you don't process any of the titles that fly by on the screen. Instead, you're hyper aware of the weight of the necklace hanging from your throat, and the lingering heat that Homelander's hands left on your skin.

So much for a simple gig.

[pecancobbler]

cg ! viktor headcanons (arcane/lol)

— im being overtaken by brainrot help me !!!! i might do silco next js bc he's so dad 2 me :) but umm lemme know if u want more :3 !

-> cw: brief /neg disability talk

ARCANE ♡

☆ cg ! viktor that brings you along everywhere, it would be annoying if you weren't so well-behaved while he does his work. having your own spot next to his workbench, maybe even a couch that you end up dragging him to so you can take naps together

☆ cg ! viktor who ends up with his cane being sticker-bombed the moment he falls asleep, waking up to you curled up next to him and his cane covered in little stickers and painted fingerprints from your impromptu arts n' crafts

☆ cg ! viktor who is frustrated with being unable to carry you like a baby, having to settle for you being on his lap. majority of your weight on his better leg, heating pad on his bad one in case if it becomes too much

☆ cg ! viktor who can only fall asleep easily when you're small, feeling like he's successfully taking care of you. sprawled out on the labs couch with your head tucked under his chin, jayce having to throw a blanket on you guys before leaving

☆ cg ! viktor who ends up having to stitch stuffies back up, making play surgeries for you to watch so you can see that they're still ok. finding perfect threads to match them, or finding ones to stand out against the fur to make cute patterns in the stitching

LEAGUE OF LEGENDS ♡

☆ cg ! viktor who deems you as perfection already, not minding any of your big or little emotions and accepting that as something he can't change. modeling certain creations after you, making some to help regulate bigger emotions he doesn't understand

☆ cg ! viktor who ends up buying way too many parenting books, his logical scientist brain wanting to know every single way he can help you and better himself. perfecting the way he talks to you, once so rigid now gentle and soothing

☆ cg ! viktor who carries you around easily, tossing you over his shoulder like a sack o' potatoes while the hexclaw steadies you. pretending to not hear you when you squeal and bang on his back to let you down, only releasing you when you say the magic words

☆ cg ! viktor who can only be pulled out of his lab by you, staying in it almost day and night until you paw at his shoulders until he caves. letting you drag him around with no real fight, making sure to not go limp with his augmented body to not weigh you down

☆ cg ! viktor who lets you carve little doodles into his robotic arms, making sure you don't hurt yourself with any sharp objects as you do so. encouraging you to doodle all you want, reassuring that he can't truly feel it anymore as you carve a little "[name] was here ^•×•^" on his bicep

[donutz]

Shrimpo confession + Headcanons!!

You might not read this bcus its Shrimpo, but like... He's adorable..

— Shrimpo warms up to you, suddenly not hating burgers anymore..

Warnings: Bright colors; That's all I think

^^This is you(If you'd like to look that way)

"Does this mean I'm a girl?!" No, if you remove the eyelashes

It's kinda wonky but I did my best ^_^

☆Intro☆

When you two met, you were a newbie. A lot of the toons surrounded you, wanting to see who you were.

Of course, you were shy. There’s 17 different toons looking at you. One of them is looking at you with a frown.

“I HATE BURGERS!!”

You jumped a little, because of his sudden abrupt voice.

"That's Shrimpo."

“He’s kinda mean.”

“Kinda is an understatement. Also it’s kind of, not kinda.”

“Potato potato Rodger.”

After Shrimpo’s hateful statement, you just stared. You two made eye contact, and he looked away first! So you won!

You smiled at him, and he looked away again.

A day after that, you thought—

‘Maybe Shrimpo could be my friend?’

You hung out with Shrimpo, a lot. He couldn’t understand why you weren’t going away.

Why don’t you hate him like everybody else?

As days passed, he tolerated your presence more and more. Like not yelling at you as much. Somehow managing to be less of a hater, and him continuously losing ‘staring contests’.

You could convince him to do arts and crafts. Convince him to hang with the other toons, convince him to not bang his head on the machines. Say, why does he do that?

“... I DON’T… Know..”

Oh okay.

The other toons noticed obviously! Have you seen how calm Shrimpo was around them? Only when you’re around though. When you’re gone it seems like he’s more angry compared to before meeting you.

Dandy was walking around, looking for you and Shrimpo.

"Shrimpo!!"

He was walking around, with his hands on his hips.

‘Where did those gremlins go?’

He looked into a smaller room, seeing you.

'Oh!'

You were facing Shrimpo, the both of you sitting on your legs. With you holding his hands.

“Why.. Do you like me so much?”

“Well, it’s just that I was hoping for you to not hate me. So it resulted in me hanging out with you a lot. Then the more I hung out with you the more I started to like you.”

“It led to love, I guess. The other toons might not like you but I do. I like you a lot actually.”

Looking up from his hands, you two make eye contact.

“I love you, Shrimpo.”

You heard a gasp, but it wasn’t Shrimpo’s.

Sensing who it was, you got up, walking over to…

“Dandy!”

"Hey you..!! The toons sent me to look for you guys!" (That’s a lie, he did it himself)

“Oh wow really! That’s nice, it’d be more nice if you left!”

"... Yeah alright, just meet up with us in less than five alright?"

“Mhm.”

Dandy walked away. Mainly happy because his theories are right, you two do love each other! He thinks…

You turn around, looking for Shrimpo.

“Shrimpo?”

You could see his little feet hiding behind the wall.

“Aww, silly.”

You came back to him, holding his hands once more. There he was, red as ever.

You’d think that if he got any more red he’d cook himself.

“So..? Do you love me back?”

“...YES. LET’S GO” 

He quickly got up and dragged you over to where the rest of the toons were.

Headcanons—!!

Yells at everybody, except you

Of course he still yells at you, but not as much when it comes to the others

He’s actually started to stop banging his head on the machines, or tries to

You’re very important to him, just your presence can calm him down

That’s one of the reasons Dandy suspected he liked you

Because of how calm Shrimpo was acting around you

All of a sudden he likes burgers.. I wonder why..

Minus burgers, if you’re any type of thing, food, anything really, he’ll like whatever visible trait you have

Like if you were a tape type of character then he would suddenly like tape

PDA is a no no, it’s not like an ego thing or like embarrassment thing(That’s another lie, he gets really embarrassed) he just feels off about public displays of affection

He gets pretty cuddly in private, probably the little spoon, but wouldn’t mind switching it

He’s soft around you

It took some time to get him to smile, it happened when you gave him multiple kisses on his face

He was slightly functioning, then blinked away his non functioning self

Before he knew it, he was smiling

You quickly took a picture

Surprisingly, for the rest of the day he was smiling more, not in front of the toons, but just in front of you

He was really clingy too, he hadn’t realized that those kisses were all he needed to be happy and smiling for a day

It’s hard for him to communicate his feelings, you really gotta reel it out of him

He’s very vulnerable in that moment, so try to not make any jokes or else he’ll be mad at you for the rest of the day

One little giggle and he’s out!! Is what he says

Your first kiss was adorable, it was on his birthday!!

Publicly and sneakily!!

He was trying SO HARD to not blush

He started shaking

I don't even care for Shrimpo that much

[manicpixiejinxgirl]

Arcane as Thanksgiving

Vander: Is the one hosting. Made the turkey and it is subpar but made with love. He hopes to rekindle some old friendships and maybe even start up new ones. Delighted to meet Vi's girlfriend and her friends, and is anxious but hopeful about seeing the more... estranged side of his family.

Silco: Was invited by Vander and dragged there by Jinx. Spends the day making snide comments towards Vander until he gets drunk and then just starts hurling insults and accusations at him like the messiest wine aunt known to man. Brought a store bought green bean casserole so he wouldn't get accused of not bringing anything but left the price tag on it to make it clear that zero effort was put into it on his part.

Vi: Brought napkins and will be the one doing most of the dishes and clean up when the meal is done. Invited Jayce alongside Caitlyn mainly out of pity but now Mel and Viktor are also here. Torn between flirting with Caitlyn and sending death glares towards Silco. Does get in a full blown argument with him in defense of Vander after the passive aggression turns into full insults. Almost flips the table.

Caitlyn: Brought three different kinds of pies that she baked from scratch herself in an attempt to make a good first impression with her girlfriend's family. Very anxious and awkward but is trying her best to put her etiquette classes to use and play it cool (she's failing). Tries to get Vi to calm down at first but is now just trying to make awkward smalltalk with Vander as all hell breaks loose around them.

Jayce: Brought a mildly overcooked sweet potato casserole that he made using his mother's recipe. Very excited to spend thanksgiving with his favorite lesbians, and invited Mel and Viktor along bc where he goes he needs them to be too. Doesn't know anything about Vander but backs up Vi in the argument without hesitation. Only makes it worse.

Mel: Was definitely invited by Jayce under false pretenses. Came in hopes to get closer to and learn more about the people Jayce cares about. Brought something very elegant and handmade like cranberry brie pull apart bread. Like Caitlyn and Vander she tried to diffuse the argument, but eventually gave up and is drowning herself in wine hoping that she will forget all about this day tomorrow.

Jinx: Came with Silco so didn't feel the need to bring anymore food items, but did bring custom christmas crackers that she made specially for each guest. Sensed the tension between Silco and Vander and Vi and Silco, and decided to make subtle comments that she knew would lead to the big argument just for fun. Joins the argument on Silco's side just to further irritate Vi but fully does not gaf and just wants to watch the world burn.

Viktor: Was forced to come by Jayce and had no idea what to bring. Googled "What to bring to Thanksgiving with my boyfriend's family" because he felt that was the most comparable common situation to his and so he brought a semi fancy store bought charcuterie board. Hates big social events and didn't want to be here in the first place. Attempted to start a conversation with Jinx about her clear talents for crafting but now that the argument is in full swing he's decided to channel his discontent into helping her add fuel to the flames of the fight despite having no idea who any of the people arguing are (except for Jayce who he is mad at for forcing him to come here just so he could third wheel his little sister and her gf for some reason)

Ekko: Brought some garden fresh roasted corn and carrots. Came believing it was just going to be the Vanderfam and was mildly dissapointed when the Pilties showed up, but almost left when Silco arrived. He is the only one asides from maybe Viktor who knew instantly what Jinx was trying to do and spent the entirety of the meal trying to thwart her attempts at instigating a huge argument. He failed and is now glaring at Jinx from across the table who is smuggly grinning back at him.

Sevika: Brought the wine and then dipped. She was only invited because she happened to be there when Vander invited Silco so she came to bring the penultimate ingredient of all family arguments and then left bc she has better things to do.

[bottlehawk]

hs kids' first day on the earth c minecraft survival server

jake: starts digging straight down as soon as he spawns. keeps digging. keeps digging. keeps digging. no one ever sees him again

jane: enters ready to get everyone organized. half the server immediately runs off doing their own thing. stops the remaining crew before they wander off so they can start building a base before it turns to night. gives everyone roles and then has to go afk because she was on her lunch break and is actually playing minecraft on her company computer. comes back hours later and finds the entire server on fire.

karkat: gets a stone hoe and some wheat seeds thrown at him and is told to set up a wheat farm. nods even though he's never played minecraft before and doesn't know how. clicks the ground with the hoe and it seems to do something so he does that for a while. dave comes over and asks him why he's been just plowing the ground in one really long straight line. tells him to fuck off so he does. wishes he hadn't when he realizes he could've asked him for help. figures out that if you click on the ground with the seed it plants it and decides he's actually a minecraft genius and doesn't need anybody's help at all. dusts his hands off proud of the work he's done and then goes to try to find kanaya.

kanaya: is given a stone axe and is told to chop down some wood for the houses. does and gives roxy some stacks and goes to chop down some more wood because she honestly finds it kind of therapeutic. ends up clearing an entire mountain. night comes and mobs start sprouting up and she chops them down too. is surrounded by fields of floating rotten flesh and bones and cursed armor when suddenly she sees flames in the distance near the base. starts marching down there with the grim resolution of an executioner, ready to now start chopping some necks.

terezi: learns how to craft a flint and steel and discovers the magic of fire. laughs maniacally as she starts burning cows she runs into and laughs even more when she discovers they drop cooked meat. wants to find more things to burn. finds a raider's base and the sound of the wood torching up into flames does something to her and she starts setting fire to the entire forest. stumbles across the base. sets fire to one of the buildings. karkat comes over and yells and asks what the fuck she's doing. sets karkat on fire. laughs as she watches him run in circles not knowing how to stop the flames. suddenly gets murked by kanaya who's sneaked up behind her, and continues being hunted down by her as she respawns for the rest of the night.

jade: wanders off and finds a cute little village. decides that she's adopting it now. places some flowers she's picked along the way around to make it look nice and pretty. tames and places some cats around the perimeter and puts some torches nearby to keep away mobs. builds a water fountain in the middle of the town square. waves goodbye to go find some wolves to tame and promises that she'll be back.

dave: builds elaborately detailed dirt penises all over the farm while karkat works and negs him. karkat tells him to fuck off and go do something useful. fucks off accordingly and finds jade's village. raids everything from the chests and all the crops. puts dirt dicks all over the place. kills the cats for string and free exp. kills some sheep and creates beds and pushes some of the villagers inside a shitty little acacia building he made with a sign on it saying "breeding pen". throws some potatoes at them and then blocks up the entrance. turns around and immediately gets blown up by a creeper.

calliope: is the only one given op privileges as she is the only one that everyone can trust to have it. decides she wants to build a big cool glass castle in the sky. has just finished building the base when jade types in chat that whoever destroyed her village is going to pay. types "oh no!!!" in the chat. gets a dm from dave asking her for sanctuary because jade is going to KILL him. remembers that he's made NFTs. sends jade screenshots of the exact incriminating parts in the server log and happily continues building her castle.

rose: has debug screen turned on. immediately crafts several stone axes. runs off to the nearby desert and finds a desert temple and raids it, crafting an iron bucket. fills it with water and goes to a lava pool and builds a nether portal. enters the nether. speed bridges over to a nether fortress and makes a wither skeleton farm and proceeds to grind for ~3-4 hours. collects enough wither skulls. readies her bow and summons the wither and starts using its detonating blasts to mine down for ancient debris.

roxy: tried to convince everybody at the beginning to download 727378282 mods to make the server "more FUN!!". was unsuccessful. gets told to make some houses and beds for the base so she does. looks for other things to do and finds karkat's wheat farm and is flabbergasted. why is it in one long straight line. there isn't even any water. where is the water? tells john to go get her some redstone while she fixes it up so she can automate it.

john: not sure what to do. roxy tells him to start mining for redstone ("its red and shiny lol you wont have to dig that far"). digs straight down into a cave. realizes he forgot to get wood but decides to go on anyway. uses up all his stone pickaxes mining copper because he doesn't know what it is and it looks cool. hits a slime and it divides into more slimes and he freaks out and runs away with two hearts. keeps running and finds a door in the side of the cave wall. opens it. wanders around in a cool maze and then enters a weird room with some yellow and green chest like boxes. suddenly gets attacked by a little bug making a screechy sound and panics and dies.

dirk: rounds up some animals into pens for the base and then busts out a boat and a fishing pole to try to get them a book of mending. is chilling in the middle of the ocean and then sees that dave gets blown up by a creeper in chat. asks if he's okay and if he needs someone to come over. sees that karkat got killed by terezi. sees that terezi got killed by kanaya. asks what is going on. is now rowing back towards base. jade types that her village has been destroyed. jane has logged on and is asking why the entire base is on fire. is crafting buckets and filling them with water. sees that rose got an achievement for summoning the wither. texts her "Dude did you just summon the Wither???". rose ominously replies "I've got it handled." sees john got killed by a silverfish and roxy asking when the hell john found the stronghold. jake gets a cheating death with a totem of undying achievement. proceeds to have a total aneurysm.

[dnphobe]

hello, analysis question. what do you think about the fact that in the slime video dan is the one whose blood is spilled first? the only wound he has is on his hand, as opposed to phil's much more severe one. does this mean anything?

okay, this is going to be based more in personal interpretation than something with references and sources because off the top of my head i can't think of situations that mirror this in horror. I will, however, be sourcing from other people's anlysis on here when it's relevant.

The first blood spilled in a piece of media heavily relating to horror or death is most often the inciting incident. However, I don't think that's relevant here. I think the inciting incident of danandphilcrafts is something that happened off screen. As is very well explained in this post by @dapg-otmebytheballs, everything that happens in these videos is a joint and agreed upon act created by a joint belief system. BUT...there's a clear pattern from all the way back in Squareflakes that Phil is the ringleader in what they're doing. He explains the crafts to Dan and the Audience, he tells him and us what to do and chides Dan if he's not doing it right. It's my personal interpretation that Phil was the original believer and the one who brought Dan in.

That makes Dan's blood something else–the blood of the innocent. The spilling of innocent blood is an inciting incident in itself. It's a point of no return. and can be tied back to its importance in rituals. Rituals (at least in media, i don't claim to speak on real practices) often ask for virgin blood. virginity = innocence. This is often interpreted as a sexual virgin, as that is how the world is most often used today, but (from what i've read) it actually refers to someone who's blood has never been used in a ritual before. Phil has already been sacrificed once, in Potato Prints, so perhaps part of the reason Dan's blood was used is because just Phil's was no longer viable to summon Him.

Back to Phil being the leader of the two of them, I believe the reason Dan gets off with a much smaller wound is, perhaps, a matter of responsibility. If Phil got him into this, then it's only right that he take the brunt of the sacrifice. Dan's sacrifice, all along, has been his innocence, not that either of them know that. By spilling innocent blood, and using it in a ritual, that virginity/innocence is lost. and it only continues to be lost even more as the ritual progresses, resulting in the biggest lost of innocence of all, killing another human being.

Dan's blood being spilled is the point of no return. With Phil back alive again after the events of Potato Prints, they could have made a fresh start. But they're devoted to eachother, and to Him. There was no hope for them, but maybe before this moment, if things had been different, there could have been.

So, in summary, my personal interpretation of the significance is this piece by Jenny Holzer

and this quote by John Darnielle:

This is why people cry at the movies: because everybody’s doomed. No one in a movie can help themselves in any way. Their fate has already staked its claim on them from the moment they appear onscreen.

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

me, waking up drenched in sweat, violently sitting up in bed and letting out a gasp: IT'S A METAPHOR FOR BEING A YOUTUBER

idk if someone already thought of this and this is also probably the most obvious reading of it but here i go anyway: i was just walking a dog and listening to potato prints and when phil said "you've come a long way daniel" i was like "huh phil is in the teaching position in all of these just like he was for youtube" like phil just gives editing pro tips the whole time and it all parallels their story as a youtube duo.

and obviously the entertainment industry is rife (not proper usage of that word but it Feels Right so fuck you) with satanic symbolism/imagery/iconography/motifs. being an entertainer is "selling your soul to the devil" etc etc and we know dan hates being a youtuber and does feel that way. you gotta upload twice a day every day in order to be the number one art channel on youtube dot com after all. you gotta make those crafts for satan. bo burnham has a ton of lyrics/songs that i'm thinking about rn like "you used to do comedy when you felt like being funny but now you're contractually obligated so dance you fucking monkeeeey DANCE MONKEY DAAAANCE" and in "repeat stuff" which is a commentary of how mainstream pop love songs and pop stars have to be really superficial and unoriginal because they need to appeal to everyone and at one point he sucks satan off lmao and is like AHFRUEHQFWIIO I AM A VESSEL IDUSHISKA 666 KAJSDFI ILLUMINATI UIGDFSAHIO FREEMASONS. highly recommend looking at the lyrics to that song if you're into that kind of thing.

also the (very rightful) dig at phannies for the "don't cry craft" spamming like "we love all of our crafty audience that spread the message of this channel on all the other videos on the internet! everywhere! everybody enjoyed that!" is how creators who want to keep status have to address their audiences no matter how annoying or harmful they're being. thinking of the ajr line "stay out of politics, stay on the fence / stay out of all of it to keep half your fans" because like,, yeah if a creator ever expresses an opinion that declares their feelings on one side of an issue then they will lose support (smosh is a perfect example of a bunch of people never ever ever expressing an opinion if it could be considered controversial among their audience, like refusing to address the genocide happening right now and just taking their zionist member who the fans are mad at out of some videos to be like "shhhhh nothing to see here we don't know what you're talking about"), ESPECIALLY if that issue is the behaviour of their audience.

obviously the first dapc video was not made with any intended meaning, they just woke up and were like "let's be weird and freak people out" and they did that, and then adding in symbolism and making it all mean something developed with time. but i'm gonna pretend that it has always had consistent meaning because i'm neurodivergent and love overanalysing silly little media.

i am so jhfbvdahfkiufadkhlj right now so if anyone has more theories or things to add lmk and thank you for coming to my ted talk

[jimblejamblewritings]

the fake date plot | part 6.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

James came down with the rest of the marauders to find you had already fixed a big plate of breakfast for him. He gave you a peck on the cheek as he took off his quidditch jumper before sitting down. 

“Thanks, bug.”  

“Why do you call me that?” you asked, taking a bite of your English muffin. 

“Do you not like it? I can call you something else.” 

“No, I like it. I was just wondering why.” 

James shrugged. “Never thought about it… You’re cute and little, some bugs are cute and little. Yep, makes sense.” 

“I’m not little.” 

“You’re littler than me. It counts.” 

“You’re freakishly tall.” 

“Remus is freakishly tall.” 

“So are you.” You popped a fried potato chunk in your mouth. 

“Just accept it, bug.” 

You went back to your breakfast, deciding his answer and little argument was satisfactory enough for you. James nudged you with his shoulder, beginning a mini battle between the two of you until he finally conceded. It was still a learning process for the two of you, trying to figure out how to play up your fake dating. Your friends were definitely suspicious and while Lily seemed to move a bit closer, Xeno didn’t even glance your way. 

You were worried that maybe you and James were switching places in regards to the objects of your affection. You felt something squeeze your thigh ever so slightly and looked over to see James was seemingly in conversation with Peter. He must’ve caught you staring too long at the Ravenclaw table and a certain someone. 

Shaking your head, you went back to eating. That’s right. You were with James and you two needed to be sickeningly in love. Besides, Lily was coming around so maybe Xeno was just distracted right now. You opened up your journal to jot down a few notes. A looming presence hung over your right shoulder. 

“Yes, Jamie?” you asked without looking up. 

“I’m just looking at your calendar.” He pointed to a blank Wednesday. “Quill in a study date, right when classes end.” 

“Study? James Potter, when have you ever studied anything that wasn’t Charms and Defense?” 

“Well, do you really need to study wand lore or broom craft? And does memorizing a whole script count as studying?” 

“It does when you’re in a drama club. And if I can’t become an actress then I need to feed myself so I’m learning to make quidditch equipment. You idiots break at least two brooms every week each, not to mention the other stuff. I’ll never have to worry about money.” 

“You’re learning about quidditch?” 

You finally looked up, recognizing the shift in James’ tone from when you two were acting for your friends versus being genuine. Giving your fake boyfriend a smile, you stole some food off his plate. 

“It’s not because you like it. It’s because you, especially, are rich and will buy my brooms and convince all your teammates to buy my brooms.” 

He laughed so loud it made students at the other houses’ tables, including Xeno, look over. James squished your cheeks and gave you a peck. 

“I should have known you were only with me for my money. Well, I hate to inform you, love, I’ve just squandered the family fortune on flying carpets.” 

You rolled your eyes. “How do you have a cute comeback for everything?” 

“You think it’s cute?” 

You stood up from the table. “You are the cutest, Jamie. The most adorable scrumdiddlyumptious squishy-wishy super-duper boyfriend in the whole world.” 

“I sense I’m being teased.” 

“I would never tease you, Jamie bo-baimey taimey waimey rai—” 

“Ha ha, very funny. Now you deserve the punishment jumper.” 

“Punishment jumper? What am I, five years old?” Your words were muffled by a red jumper covering your face before your head popped out the other side. You looked down. “You just wanted me to wear your jumper.” 

James blushed and you wanted to laugh. Natural blush wasn’t easy with fake dating but the two of you figured out a relatively uncomfortable trick if the two of you weren’t on the same page. You were allowed to picture Xeno whenever you wanted and James was allowed to picture Lily. He was totally imagining her in his jumper— it probably helped that you and Lily were the same height and body type so the jumper fit exactly like it would on her. 

Your fake boyfriend scratched the back of his head. “Some of the team was talking about how they like seeing their partner in their jumpers and I wanted to know what that was like.” 

“And?” 

“Don’t know yet, it just looks like I dropped it on you.” 

“That’s cause you did drop it on me. Wait, let me fix it.” 

You pulled out the collar and untucked your shirt so the tails were sticking out. The sweater almost covered your skirt entirely since it was already oversized on James that you weren’t sure if you’d get a violation or not but you didn’t try to adjust it. You gave a little twirl. 

“Tada.” 

“You look great.”    

Leaning over James, who covered your skirt with his hands to make sure nothing showed, you collected your stuff. “I’ll see you later, okay? Marls, are you coming with me to Herbology or still eating?” 

Marlene tried to recover from getting caught staring, mouth open, at you and James. She shook her head no and you made your way out of the Great Hall to head to Herbology. James left only five minutes after you in order to give your friends space to gossip in peace. 

The two of you were counting on Sirius and Mary to get louder by the minute until it garnered everyone’s attention. You were sure it worked when Alice came into the greenhouse practically squealing at you. You and James were the hottest topic in school. All you could do was roll your eyes and keep taking notes as Alice started planning your entire future together. You turned to look at your friend. James wouldn’t hate you for telling one person. You both had planned to tell your closest friends when the time was right and you couldn’t take keeping a secret anymore. 

“Hey, Alice. Me and Jam—” 

The door to the greenhouse swung open but it was Professor Sprout that came in. It was James standing in the threshold. 

“Your birthday is this weekend,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger. 

“Yes, James.” 

“Bug, you didn’t say what you wanted for your birthday.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“What?” His eyebrows crinkled together. “You don’t want anything?” 

“It’s not that big a deal.” 

“Birthdays are a completely big deal.” 

“Well… I just don’t want anybody spending too much on me this year. My parents and I are saving up for university… if there is a university.” 

It was an unspoken thing that no student might make it to university when the war was ramping up. If Voldemort and the Death Eaters got bigger, a draft was likely to happen. And unlike muggles, men and women were drafted in the wizarding world since all the fighting was done with magic and didn’t require any strength outside of mental. James shook his head. 

“That’s an even better reason to give you something. It won’t be large, I promise.” 

“Small things can still be very expensive.” 

“Honestly, I’ve never looked at a price tag in my life.” 

You sighed. “You and Sirius live totally different lives from the rest of us, I wish I had rich parents… Okay, I concede. If it isn’t big then it can be whatever you want.” 

“Good. I have to go now before Slughorn loses his mind that I’m not there or worse pairs me up with Snape as a punishment.”   

(part 7...)

THIS TAGLIST:

@starsval @helloitsmeeeeeee @callsigndiamond @isabela30 @rachelccollier @ghostkingblake @b3t0xic @tendous-pretty-hair @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @superduckmilkshake @sendnuwudes @prongsprincessworld @slightlynotslightlyobsessing @wildernessflora @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @mommymilkerfanclub @amandachrystinallc @lupinsbookshelf @harrysgoldenwatermelon @loving-and-dreaming @that-simp-sin @bubybubsters @peachesgaeass @jellyfishlioncrab @cenkisabibl

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie

[paranormal-potatoes]

finally washed my horrible knitted blanket that i abhor and also knitted. did not end as terribly as i assumed it would but im now realizing i should probably move it to the bathroom to dry so the cat doesn't attempt to chew on it while im out

[dragonmuse]

How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer

I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.

Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).

What is a dirtbag fic writer? 

 I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.  

Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it. 

How do I dirtbag? 

That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean. 

Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries. 

Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other. 

And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT.  I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens.  We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.  

Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on? 

But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!

COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T. 

Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay.  If you don’t, let us continue. 

What does dirtbag writing look like? 

It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird.  It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business. 

It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.) 

It has mistakes. 

Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there. 

What if I don’t get good feedback? 

Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish)  is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.  

You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film,  (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness. 

And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it?  Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too! 

BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck. 

You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?”  Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye. 

If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole.   Fic is no different 

And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT. 

Ok, but what if I don’t finish it? 

Fuck it, post it anyway. 

What if it’s bad? 

Fuck it, post it anyway. 

What if it doesn’t make sense? 

That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway. 

What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms? 

Then someone out there probably needs it!  And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY* 

*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”

You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary. 

I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape. 

That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.

You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there. 

Go forth. Make. 

You have some errors in this essay. 

PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT.  But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).  

#dirtbagwriter 

Go forth and MAKE

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 18

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers as always! CW: Homoerotic fight scene What? Who said that?

"Hmmmm…" [You ponder deeply, looking over the collection of daggers on display at the town's blacksmith.]

"What's up? None speaking to you?" [Nille chimes in, noticing the look on your face. Does having a mouth again really make us that easy to read?]

"No, they aren't… I'm not sure a dagger feels right anymore."

"Oh? Well what else would you get? I can't exactly see your scrawny butt using a big hammer." [She teased with a smirk. You rolled your eyes some.]

"Riiight, and who destroyed that sadness standing over you when we first met~?"

"I had that under control! I was just making it think it had me!" [You both laugh, even she couldn't pretend that was true.]

"But to answer your question, I'm not quite sure, something agile still but…"

"How about a rapier?"

"NO! No no no! The Housemaiden uses one of those."

"… And?"

"… Just… I'd rather not… Have that constant reminder." [She rolls her eyes but drops it. It seemed the only thing preventing another talk was the fact you were in public.]

"Okay, uhhh... Oh! What about one of those?" [She asked, spotting a rack with several whips hanging off of them.]

"Oh… Oh yes, that actually sounds nice~." [You say as you walk over to it, glancing about at them all hanging, finding a lovely looking one with lightless and darkless diamond patterning across its whole length.]

"I think this will do perfectly~."

---------------------------------------------------

[The sound of 3 booming CRACKs sound out in a row as you try to snap your new whip across the practice targets setup. You manage to split the first in half, but your swings go wide on the follow ups, missing the other two.]

"Hey! Not bad! You're a natural at this!"

"Not bad?! I only hit one blinding target!"

"... Vale, have you ever used a whip before?"

"Not that I can recall, no."

"Uh huh, and you just expected to be great at it first thing?"

"I mean, I used paper craft pretty well first thing~."

"Well yeah, that was instincts. If you're a paper type now, that's gonna come a lot more naturally. Stress of combat and all, you don't think you just act."

"Hmmm... You make a good point... Maybe there's some more sadness nearby we could try and track down?"

"You wanna go hunting sadness' now?!"

"Well how else am I going to get better at this?" [Nille smacks her own face gently in a facepalm before sighing out.]

"Alright, alright, if you're set on this..." [She begins, placing a hand on your shoulder.]

"Now think fast!" [She shouts before using her other arm to scoop under your leg, suddenly lifting you over her head and tossing you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.]

"WH-HEY?!" [You cry out, tumbling across the grass and sliding to a stop. You look up at Nille, her hammer now out, playful grin on her face.]

"If you're so set on a fight, I'll give you one pretty Vay~!"

"N-Nille?! Y-You can't just toss me like that!!"

"Actually I can, pretty easily in fact!" [She beams with a bright laugh, your face burns in a fluster as you grumble, readying your new whip, holding your other hand in a paper sign.]

"F-Fine! But you asked for it!"

"Don't hold back for me now Vale, I won't for you!" [She remarked with a wink, then suddenly rushing towards you.]

[You step back in surprise, not expecting her to actually approach with such intent. She raises her hammer, preparing to swing. You finally snap out of it and bring your hand forward, summoning a shield like before. Nille's hammer swings right through it, dampening the blow but still sending it slamming into your side, knocking you over and tumbling a bit again.]

"Ack! H-Hey!!"

"Oh come on, you're paper type now, you barely felt that!"

"Y-Yes but STILL!!" [You shout, more so protesting about getting tossed around than anything else. She pays no mind to your pleas as she begins to rush at you again. You wonder how she's so blinding fast with that massive hammer.]

"Gonna have to go on the offensive soon~!" [She taunts at you. Alright, we can figure this out, there's got to be some way we can slow her down somehow... Wait, didn't Odile have a craft like that? Yes! We've seen it countless times! You take a breath for a moment, trying to replicate the ritual she performed when using it, sending a lethargic wave towards Nille to help weigh her down some.]

"Oooh, got some other tricks up your sleeve?" [She calls in surprise, though it doesn't seem to affect her as much as Odile's ability did. It would have to do for now, taking a defensive stance and flourishing your new whip. She swings high as you duck below, swapping her momentum to slam down before you barely manage to jump back out of the way.]

"C'mon! Go on the offensive Valey!" [She encourages, you snap your whip forward, coiling it around the neck of her hammer. With a heavy tug and pulling paper gesture, you manage to yank it free from her grip, tossing it upwards and spinning off behind you as you watch it fly overhead.]

"Hah! What are you gonna do no-ACK!!" [You begin to tease, turning back to Nille who was suddenly moments away, tackling into you and sending you both sliding across the ground, skidding to a stop. You stare up at her in stunned silence. She chuckles some, seeing your face.]

"HAHA! Here's a tip, Vay. Never let your guard down." [She teased... then perked up some, noticing your face with her own darkening, quickly getting up off of you... Our face feels hot. Are we blushing?...]

"Heh, uhh... Sorry about that, got a little carried away there." [She mumbled some, holding out a hand to help you up, taking it and easily getting lifted off the ground.]

"But good hustle! Seems like you got a few new moves to work with!" [Her face is still dark, she's trying to change the subject, you recognize this tactic... Why is our face burning?! You try to shake the sensation away.]

"R-Right~! Guess we won't have to worry much next time a sadness comes around~!" [You remark, desperately trying to slip the mask back on. You both stand in awkward silence for a moment.]

"... W-We should probably get back to the Inn."

"O-Oh yes! I'll uhh... meet you there, I wanted to stop by the local tailor first~."

"Oooof course you do."

Get ready for some new official outfit designs next Vale chapter~

[starsisstars]

Pointless ISAT Headcanons

Hi I have to get up for opening shift tomorrow but who CARES it's time for headcanons. Except not the normal or angsty ones, it's goofy ridiculous hours ONLY. (Please send me more goofy niche headcanons I want to consume silly details like candy.) Filled with spoilers despite the sillies.

Bonnie invents potato chips 10 years after the end of the game after many failed attempts to make Sif like potatoes (Sif LOVES their chips, so this is Bonnie's win in the end).

Immortality fiction is super popular in Vaugarde because they're witnesses to change over decades but are prevented from changing themselves. Tragic wisemen usually. This got way less popular post-King.

Teachers get paid good wages in Vaugarde because they help kids through the period of the most change in their lives.

I think it's so funny everyone in fanfic thinks Sif sleeps in trees. It's universal and y'know what? Sure. I'm adopting that. Y'all had me scrolling through dialogue for ages just to make sure I didn't miss any tree nap mentions.

Loop spent the majority of Sif's first run through Dormont and the House training their voice so that it wouldn't be a dead giveaway to their identity when Sif showed up. They wanted it to sound like Odile. It does not even a little bit.

Mira is RED. Bonnie is ORANGE/YELLOW/BLUE. Odile is PURPLE. Isa is GREEN/BROWN. Sif and Loop are MONOCHROME.

Mira has a notebook FILLED with edgy poetry from when she was small. She buried it somewhere but knows exactly where it is and once every couple years digs it up just to make sure nobody found it.

Bon is a reptile person. Wants a bearded dragon as a pet.

Mwudu is Acadia (in the same way Vaugarde is France, etc.). Not a colony of Vaugarde or anything though, just a lot of cultural exchange. (Vaugarde is NOT imperialistic.)

Post-canon Sif sometimes has such a tight grip on Isa in his sleep that Isa can get up and walk around with them still latched onto him. One morning Isa even brushed his teeth and styled his hair before the Sif on his back woke up.

Nille is swole af. Taller than Odile too. I like it when people give her a braid.

I changed my mind; everyone has really ugly colors because they can't see them and they all look terrible. I do not care about the practicalities of more colorful dyes being difficult to obtain; this is fantasy logic and I say they all should cause eyestrain.

Sif's all-black look under the cloak and hat (both of which he didn't choose) is the only good fashion choice they're capable of making. If you ask them to get creative it's a disaster. Isa indulges this anyways because hell yeah fashion disaster rights, but Sif will inevitably ask for help once he actually sees the design in person.

Isa was a hardcore STEM person, while Odile was properly studying anthropology/writing but is actually SUPER into linguistics.

Fishermen from the Forgotten Country were given additional pathways to easy fishing crabs on Vaugarde's shore because Vaugarde didn't want 'em. The overfishing caused a minor ecological crisis that was then fixed by Wish Craft.

Pre-canon Sif tried to make some money via an eating competition in one of the unnamed countries but was so uncomfortable with the attention from winning first place they refused to ever step foot in the country again. They don't even remember why they refuse to visit anymore but still don't wanna go. It wasn't even that big a contest nor a big deal emotionally long-term (like the party would suspect) for Sif, they're just stubborn.

Since we have a classic RPG setup I think the party's inventory is not limited by logic and they carry around 78 tents and 23 cottages somehow.

[peppermintquartz]

I voted early ☑️. Buck and Tommy’s first Thanksgiving together.

Buck has been slaving over the meal for the past three days. Tommy has played willing if slightly resigned assistant, decorating, buying groceries, moving furniture, moving furniture again, redecorating, buying more decorations and groceries, and taste-testing.

It's not like Buck doesn't know he has been a little obsessed, to the point he almost broke down in tears over the mashed potatoes (Buck, panicking as he rummaged through the drawers: "How is it that you don't have a ricer? You have a house and you don't have a ricer?" Tommy, with raised eyebrows and a shrug: "How does Bobby do his mashed potatoes?" Buck: "...with a fork."). But he wants it to be perfect.

It's their first Thanksgiving together as a family, and they're hosting. He wants nothing more than for this to be the best Thanksgiving he's ever had, that Tommy's ever had, to make up for the strained Thanksgiving dinners they each had to suffer through as kids.

Now the turkey is roasting nicely in the big oven, the bread rolls are keeping warm in the smaller oven, batches of wings are being fried in the air fryer, and the drinks are well received - homemade fruit spritzers along with wines and craft beers - and their guests are laughing while playing some tag-related game in their backyard.

Bobby wanders into the kitchen and takes a deep breath. "Everything smells amazing, Buck."

"Thanks," Buck says. He is feeling a little (a lot) emotional at how good it all is. Tommy is mingling, introducing newcomers to the old-timers, joking with Hen, Chimney and Eddie, directing the older kids to play with the younger ones.

"Don't forget to enjoy the moment, kid," Bobby says quietly, an understanding gleam in his kind eyes.

Buck smiles and ducks his head. "I am."

Later, after the turkey is brought to the table to a chorus of "oohs" and "aahs", and they each have to share one thing they're grateful for, Buck waits for everyone to go round. Tommy, with a teasing glimmer in his eyes, says, "That Thanksgiving is only once a year..." He winks at Buck, and adds, "so we can truly appreciate all this."

It's Buck's turn. He beams around the table and holds up his glass. "I'm thankful for family, the one I'm related to, and the one I found."

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Vote & Prompt!