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junietuesday · 1 year ago

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Hiiii June idk who this is but y’all are working hard so if you’re so inclined I’d love a bit about Jeremy and the SQUIP being friends (going back to my bmc roots with this one….) feel free to get as non canon as you want bc you would need it with this one alskskdjj

vote glenn close and receive a drabble!

“It feels dumb being alone in here,” says Jeremy as he climbs up the steps to the stage. “What if someone sees me?”

“Don’t worry,” says the SQUIP, and its easygoing, chill tone settles Jeremy’s nerves a little. “I’ve hijacked the remote locking system for the auditorium doors. Just focus on those moves.”

Mr. Reyes had inserted a big dance number into A Midsummer’s Nightmare About Zombies. Christine had been distraught: “I love musical reinterpretations as much as the next gal, but this is just spitting on Shakespeare’s vision!” she’d protested, jumping up from her seat. “And this is the fall play. We don’t even have a choreographer or music director or—”

“Those cheap choreographers and music directors the school hires every year don’t comprehend my vision!” Mr. Reyes had declared. “Which is why I will be in charge of this dance number. Now, everyone, out of your seats—first we’ll be starting with your basic jazz square…”

And now here Jeremy is, forced to practice in the theater after hours, because he auditioned for a play and did not think he’d need the coordination to dance. Luckily, he’ll be standing in the back for most of it, but still…

“I’ll play the music in your brain,” says the SQUIP. “Three, two, one—”

“Wait!”

“What?”

“How do I do this without a partner?” Jeremy mumbles.

The SQUIP stays silent for a moment. “Put your hands up like a partner is there,” it tells him at last. “I’ll stimulate your nerve endings to feel pressure where there’s none.”

“…Weird…”

“Quantum nanotechnology,” the SQUIP says. “Now enough delays. Just start dancing. You want to impress Christine during the next rehearsal, don’t you?”

“I do…” But staring out from the empty stage, Jeremy feels his heartbeat pick up. His palms are sweating. He takes a tentative step forward, the beginning of one of those jazz squares Mr. Reyes is obsessed with, and the sound of his sneaker hitting wood echoes through the entire auditorium. “I don’t think I can do this,” he says in a rush. “I can’t dance. I’m gonna look like an idiot.”

“I can flood your brain with serotonin and cut off your adrenaline,” the SQUIP offers cheerfully.

“No! No messing with my feelings!”

If the SQUIP were to materialize itself in Jeremy’s vision right now, he knows it would be rolling its eyes. “Fine, if you want to do it the slow way…” But then its voice softens. “No one’s here, so you don’t need to worry about looking like an idiot. I told you I took care of that already. Would you rather look like a fool at rehearsal tomorrow because you didn’t practice? Or do you want to show up and dazzle Christine with your style? You know what you’re doing. You just need to let your body’s muscle memory catch up with your brain. So start dancing. You can do it.”

“…Okay,” says Jeremy quietly. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it go. “Okay. Start the music.”

#be more chill #bmc #bmc musical #the squip #jeremy heere #stagedorks #asks #june speaks #@thatbeautifulsound #my writing #THANKS FOR THE VOTE! tried to balance the squip being friendly enough to count as jeremy’s friend but still not lose its canon character #entirely. hopefully i succeeded? also i missed writing jeremy. i love him hes just like me fr

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lumine-no-hikari · 1 year ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #9

I was going to go back to my favorite bubble tea shop today to continue to work on the music box for someone in my social circle, but a bit of a weird thing happened today that I'm not yet really ready to talk about. It definitely threw me off my groove, but I'm not about to toss anyone out a window, don't worry, hahaha!

(wait; have you seen that movie that this reference is from? i don't know what stories you have access to, what with you being at the Edge of Creation and all. it's about a selfish emperor who got turned into a llama; shenanigans ensued, and he came through the other side changed for the better - it seems silly at first glance, but… 10/10 would recommend.)

I probably won't respond to the weird thing that happened (or anything else, really) until the resulting adrenaline clears from my body. Bodies are kinda funny in that they'll release adrenaline in response to a real or perceived threat, and being an abuse survivor is kinda funny in that a lot more things end up seeming like threats (even though in normal circumstances, they're totally not), as compared to someone with a less tumultuous upbringing.

The old environment that I grew up in taught me that the thing to do in response to adrenaline is to get all "stabby-stabby" with my words and with my deeds. By having it done to me for most of my life, I understand very well the destructive power of a well-placed insult, the reality-warping abilities of gaslighting, the way the brandishing of anger can inspire fear, and lots of other very unjust, unsavory things that are aimed at establishing a false sense of safety by giving oneself the illusion of control over a person or a situation.

But I am not in the old environment anymore. And I don't ever have to go back there ever again. I'm self-aware enough to understand that if I don't ask for help when I don't know what is the kind, just, and loving thing to do, the adrenaline in my body will hijack the thinking portions brain, and my amygdala will act alone, resorting to playing out the instincts outlined in the paragraph above. I don't want that. I owe it to the people around me not to be that (yes, even when they make mistakes and do hurtful things). And I owe it to myself not to be that, too; after all, it took me so many years to escape living in it - why would I want to become it, and thus have it living inside of me? I kinda wanna wash my brain out with soap just thinking about it; yecchhhh.

I know there are better ways to be, even if I don't always necessarily always know what those ways are. So instead of surrendering to the pain I was in and lashing out, I asked some of the most trusted people in my circle for help. I was gifted with clarity about how I should address the situation - a way to set a boundary without hurting anyone in the process - so that I can protect both myself and the people around me. It'll probably be clumsy, and I'll probably be scared the whole time, but that's okay. Sometimes life is like that, and the only way out is through.

With the help of the hands that are always outstretched to me, instead of falling to my knees as a slave to my old, destructive instincts and fears, and acting in ways that are unbecoming of my innermost nature as a result, I was able to choose something different. I spent some time processing the resulting feelings, making myself some mac-and-cheese, and getting the excess energy out of my body by playing Dance Dance Revolution (DDR for short; goodness me, am I getting old or what??? Hahaha…). I was even reminded to hydrate by a very caring friend; it was good of them to do because I forget all the time, haha… I've uh… I've gotta work on that whole "staying hydrated" thing in general. Whoops…

In any case, I am feeling a little better now. The thing that happened still really stinks, but humans are tough, and we can deal with things that stink. I'll get a good night's sleep and then try to articulate the thoughts rolling around in my head to the people involved. I have a terrible sense of dread regarding this, but at the same time, I know that the people involved are beautiful, wonderful people, so I'll hold out hope that something good will happen.

And even if my worst fears come to pass and bad things happen because I spoke up, I'll have faith that future me can handle the resulting fallout. And if I can't handle the resulting fallout, then I'll trust that my friends will reach their hands out to me and keep me stable until the storm passes; it is the way of things.

I hope that you'll remember, when you're feeling overwhelmed, sad, scared, betrayed, hurt, angry, or what have you… that you're no longer in the old situation. You're no longer a helpless little boy in a laboratory being abused by men and women in white coats. You're no longer in a situation where you're valued only for your power, your looks, or for what you can do for others. You can make a different, kinder, and more loving choice. And if you don't know what the different, kinder, and more loving choice looks like, you can turn to any of the people you love for help. If no one else, you can always turn to me for help; I might be just a silly little derpling running around in a stardust-flavored bone mech with meat armor, but I'll always be right here, waiting.

I don't wanna leave this on a melancholy note, so I'll stick this here. It is relevant to the things I've written, and I hope you'll like it.

youtube

One of these days… I am going to be more like the mole, when he interacted with the fox in the trap. I'm not there quite yet. But I'm working towards it.

I think I might be able to go work on that music box now. Wish me luck, yeah? I'll wish you luck with your things, too. Please do your best to feel the incoming dawn. And please remember that you have all the love and support that you could possibly want, right under your nose.

Your friend, Lumine

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iamveronica · 2 years ago

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I was today years old when I found out that Johnny Marr played guitar on & CO-WROTE Billy Bragg's Sexuality & it has sent my Marrissey brain into overdrive 👀

ooh yes! Johnny in his autobio talked about how he one day heard Billy Bragg fiddling in his studio with this idea of a song with "some interesting phrases about sexuality" so Johnny took the tape home and perfected the track and from it sprang Sexuality, a "great pop song with brilliant lyrics", as he put it

And just because you're gay I won't turn you away If you stick around I'm sure that we can find some common ground

i know nowadays this seems like basic humanity but at the time, at the height of the AIDS epidemic that disproportionately affected the gay community, it must have been revolutionary, a real show of support

unfortunately, over the years, Billy Bragg has taken to changing the line "sexuality, don't threaten me with misery" to "sexuality, don't threaten me with Morrissey", so sometimes allyship does go out the window, huh

Johnny has always presented himself as an ally, and very genuinely at that. whether there was a hint of curiosity or personal experience is up for speculation. Johnny has never neglected to mention growing up immersed in the feminine ethos and "around loads of gay boys" (he goes on to say that but i'm linking the start of his thought). Morrissey recounted having the same upbringing. Johnny then continues in his talk saying how Manchester had then and still does now a "thriving, absolutely vibrant, very important gay scene" and how the best time you could have was in the gay clubs, where, incidentally, the Smiths played some of their first gigs, according to Johnny's autiobio. back to the video [ON WHICH JOHNNY DOES NOT GET QUOTED ENOUGH and maybe i should and will do], "in the very, very early days, when it probably was just even me and Morrissey, we had to almost reign it in, we had to maybe take a step back and be a bit more palatable. we would've probably been a much more radical band… but look at our first single [Hand in Glove], the first single cover, it's one of the things i'm very, very proud of and Morrissey's contribution which was the iconography".

since i've already brought up Johnny's talk at the Oxford Union in 2019, and he's absolutely brilliant in it - he's asked maybe a handful of questions but he builds so well on them - i will hijack your ask to highlight some of my favourite moments from it

right off the bat, 7:08 "i'm not famous for extremely controversial statements AHEM" fuck you johnny, you petty child. barely lasted 7 minutes without getting a laugh at Morrissey's expense but then he COMPLETELY loses his train of thought for a good 20 seconds. he needs to recalibrate after that Morrissey mention because god knows where his minds goes veering off to. totally self-inflicted and absolutely deserved … "that might sound a little pretentious or highfalutin, and so what, i'm pretentious" this was just funny and the very thing you'd expect the man Morrissey fell in love with to say … the same Johnny who never fails to talk about the Love between him and Morrissey (18:11) "i went and knocked on Morrissey's door and put this band together. strangers, you learn to love each other… very quickly."

27:49 just Johnny being funny saying he never wanted to look at the same bass player for 40 years, then catches himself to say he still does, with him and Andy being mates, corrects it to never wanted to look at the same drummer for 30 years, for 10 years (when i tell you i waited with bated breath for him to say singer but he didn't), then he says "that's not personal, i just saw my future differently". then, i think he gets a little emotional, saying it was "sad how it came out", having to break off from the Smiths to realize the vision of his music career he had from the start

34:21 that question was bait but i think Johnny subverts the expectation that he's going to dump on Morrissey for his lyrical contribution to Some Girls… and instead he says he loved it, it was great when he'd get unexpected lyrics to go with his music. i love Johnny's analogy of a painting of a camel against the backdrop of the British coastline but that in fairness, he couldn't think "of a Smiths song that sounded like a camel". he becomes so lovely, so loving when he talks about the recording/producing process of Smiths songs, how unorthodox they were, he gets transformed. "the probably boring answer that at that time, Morrissey was my best mate and we loved everything that each other did and we both thought everything we did was brilliant"

46:10 "i didn't want to do any Smiths songs for years and years because 1. i just felt like no one should and 2. i was fucked up about it and now i learned not to be fucked up about it and to be alright with your past" he calls There is a Light… a perfect marriage of poetry and music

48:05-48:20 DESERVED A LAUGH, stupid audience

49:05 on the endurance of the Smiths songs, "because there's loads of emotion in the recording, almost every single Smiths song, because even if it's just from me - i can't speak for the other fellas - because when we were recording it, i felt like i was three feet off the ground. because i loved what i was playing, loved the situation i was in and i loved my life, and it was this unbelievable high that was imbued and infused in the recordings"

i'm sorry if this was more than you or anybody bargained for but again, i would recommend listening to an hour of Johnny talking any day

p.s. on the one hand, i understand Morrissey's open letter, he got tired of being a talking point or comedic fodder. on the other hand, Johnny was still talking about what they had with so much love, even in 2019

#ask #marrissey #johnny marr #morrissey #the smiths

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flieslikeamoron · 2 years ago

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Hey hey hey, I love Sleight so much that it very nearly won but how about Hive Mind for the WiP game? Gotta take the chance as it presents itself. Thank youuu

Hiiii! This one came to me sort of in a dream. I woke up with a couple images/ideas. It was Steve realizing Eddie was still alive because there was this voice in his head, and going back for him. And them leaving town because Eddie can't stay there, and Steve can't be apart from him without both of them getting sick. And it was Eddie blasting metal music in his head to keep Steve from hearing what he's thinking. To try to keep Steve from seeing the things he's hiding. Things like the fact he has a lot of feelings about Steve.

Once I was thinking about it with my fully awake brain I had a hard time figuring out how to make them leaving Eddie's body work. You could say Steve has to carry Dustin, so he can't carry Eddie. It's not like it can't work. But then it's how long is he there before Steve goes back etc. So I thought maybe it's better if Steve just has a gut feeling that Eddie's not dead even though Nance is telling him there's no pulse. Either way it's their connection that keeps Eddie alive. Steve feeling worse and worse, while Eddie's getting stable enough to stay alive. But then there are plot hangups there too. Where does Eddie get treated for his wounds as a fugitive? Are they forced to leave town by the government, who are worried their hive mind of two is going to get hijacked like Will did and want to study them? It comes from the bat bites so it's a valid concern. Or do they take off on their own because Eddie can't stay in Hawkins? My thought was they're on kind of a road trip of sorts, but are they full fugitives? From the spooks or the law or everybody? And what's the end game of where they're going? There are just a lot of details I never fully worked out.

The point of it is, you know... Bat bite soulbond. It's neither of them realizing what's happening right away until the creeping shared thoughts and feelings get too strong. Until they can't physically be apart for long. It's Eddie trying so hard to hide from someone he's sharing part of his mind with. It's Steve not really being able to hide much of anything. It's the classic thing where one of them jerks off and the other feels it. You know... Fun stuff. I think there's something there, but I did get hung up on the plot parts.

#asked and answered #wip game #my fic #fic ideas #steddie fic ideas

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interdimensionalburnout · 3 months ago

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>>You don't even realize it, anymore, do you? Madame "I don't like cities," the Lady of "Cities are too crowded and tangled for me." You move through the city like a fish through water, like a bird through the open sky. Crowds, obstacles, ruins. The city has held your head on her lap your whole life, and even while you were "escaped," she was with you. You're like a spider, navigating a strange web as if YOU built it.

>>You can't wave this thought away, even as you move from a sewer system, to a network of maintenance corridors, to rough-cut caves. You don't know the city with a historian's touch, though the relevant lessons from your childhood come to you often enough, but it's just another edge over the terrain, memories prodded by the wind across your wrists. Cold breezes with fresher air than others, they guide you by nose and ear down the right paths. The moisture on the walls reflects the relevant memories at you.

>>An intersection with another maintenance corridor. Your eyes catch scratch marks, at the intersection of the cave and conduits, and again you and the city are synchronized. Free-Fellows' Cant, the drawn symbols used by the underclasses and revolutionaries to communicate AROUND the Magistrates. It's a free-flowing, ever-changing language, but you see moss inside the etchings. It doesn't matter what the marks might mean now, because whenever these were carved, the words still meant, "Safehouse, close to danger, far from harm."

>>There's a faulty attempt to stop watching yourself, to stop with the introspection, but your brain is on a tear now. You were born here, and no chicanery can ever change that; the city is in your blood, your bones. She holds your head at night, and puts her hands on your back, to push you off the ground when you fall. You used to lean on the city's insight without hesitation, until you kept waking up in the same bed, on the same morning, after every death.

>>Blocking her out with drugs, with booze, became your modus operandi. You came to hate Argie, because this city was your rotten lot in life now. An eternity trying to do... what? You still don't know what to make of your purpose in this timeloop shit, but by one part accidentally, and one part on purpose, after your last attempted escape from it, you've opened yourself up to the city again.

>>A ladder, back to the surface, based on the cave-ins and signs, this is a way into the interior of the prison. You might've found one of the few undiscovered shortcuts left to be discovered in "The Drip." You're walking with purpose, with practiced ease that leaves NO place on this planet's urban sprawl inaccessible to you. The city never left you, even when you tried to leave it, and you mean to repay the favor, the love, the attention. She's said it in words, plain as day, not just on the wind, not just in the snow and rain, "My people will die, the cells of my life-blood, the reason my own heart beats. You must save them, even if I never recover from the wrongs done to them."

>>As you emerge from the access hatch, into what seems to be an alleyway between canvas tents, you're still pondering those words. She didn't seem scared to die the, "Big Death," the one of the soul, rather than the body. Just save the people, that's the whole of her request. In forty-seven time-loops, in forty-seven deaths, she'd never spoken to you before, not like that. You're trying not to let this distract you from the scene you've climbed into.

>>Stepping out of the alleyway, you emerge into a sprawling sort of market-place, abutted by a small farm of churned-up dirt. A massive courtyard, inside the interior walls of the prison, now a small town of desperadoes and dealers. Despite the grim location, and the dour disposition of the downtrodden of Argie, music plays across hijacked speakers, warm lights and fires are everywhere. Many of the tents are selling or outright handing-out food to hungry people, others acting as taverns or bars. Some are dark, closed to all but those who have business buying what shadowy things were being sold. This... is a small bandit-outpost, if ever you saw one, and you've seen plenty of them.

>>"He is here, the man who breaks walls of fire and steel. A hammer to shatter dark secrets." You nod, mostly to the open air, and pull your coat tight around your body, drawing a hood over your head. One of the few details of your blurry, blurry wanted posted that has already drawn undue attention is the fiery sheen of your greasy, copper-blonde hair. You need a lay of this little land, to see who calls shots inside this pocketed space of desperate, violent freedom. Near the northernmost end of the space, rising out of the interior walls, and connected to it, is a sort of watch tower, a panopticon of sorts, fitted with a giant, makeshift clock, and crude neon lights that simply read, "Town Hall."

>>You feel the stinging needles of cold wind, the winds of an eternal winter night, bite through the alley, and through your coat. This is still Argossia, after all, no matter how otherwordly this prison seems from your current vantage. You look up into the sky, facing the wind head-on, and listen to what she has to say, "The man you want holds the tower. The tower holds the man. This wound will not easily let him go, and he will cling to it. Below this wound of poisoned water and tortured people, where the oldest humans touched the oldest old-ones, there are tools. They may uproot a man, without tearing down a tower." Before it's time to tear it down, you think.

>>You move into the "streets", slipping through the surprisingly dense crowd with the same ease with which you saunter down the waterfront's winding ways, mingling with bloodthirsty criminals like simple strangers on the train, mulling over tonight's big thoughts: You and the city, knowing, and being known by the city. But also you think on the conflicting opinions of the prison. This place is a stronghold of freedom, in its own, strange way, close to danger but far from harm, kept "free" by its jailers; but it's also a poisoned wound on the skin of the planet, in the flesh of the city. Unanswered death surrounds it, unparalleled cruelty has made it, and you would just as happily uproot the man AND tear down the tower . Both would be fine with you.

>>You need a drink, first.

#IC #Not Viewable ICly

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gauravsinha · 4 months ago

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“Me Time” – The Overrated Escape or Family-Free Fantasy?

Ah, me time. The most sought-after currency of the 21st century. Forget gold, oil, or Bitcoin – the real prize is a 30-minute bubble bath where no one’s yelling, “Mom! Dad! The Wi-Fi’s down!” Welcome to the era where your personal value is measured by the number of solo brunches you post on Instagram. Move over, life goals – it’s all about finding a quiet corner where the chaos of family life can’t reach you.

But is this sacred "me time" really what it’s cracked up to be? Or have we been bamboozled into thinking that freedom from family life equates to self-actualization? Let’s psychoanalyze the phenomenon of modern-day self-obsession – sorry, I mean self-care.

The Social Media Flex: #BlessedWithMeTime

First, let’s talk about how “me time” has been hijacked by social media. Scroll through Instagram, and you’ll find glorious posts of people sipping organic green juice, reading that one self-help book everyone is pretending to understand, or meditating with the calmness of a Zen monk. #FindingMyself, #InnerPeace, #NoKidsAllowed. The captions scream "Look at me! I’m so in touch with my inner self! I’m so enlightened, I might float away!"

But behind that perfectly filtered photo of your “me time” lies the reality: 90% of you spent those 10 minutes of peace refreshing TikTok, dodging your responsibilities, or frantically googling, "How to enjoy me time without feeling guilty." Psychologists call this the illusion of control. I call it the illusion of liking your own company.

Escaping the Family: A Break or a Breakdown?

Let’s be honest here. “Me time” is often just a fancy term for hiding from your family.

Psychologically speaking, when did we start believing that every member of our family is an emotional vampire draining our soul’s energy like a toddler with an iPad battery? Sure, kids are loud, and spouses sometimes forget to take the trash out, but is that really grounds for a full-on retreat to the Himalayas?

And let’s not even start on the guilt trips. There’s the parent “sneaking” off to a spa weekend, all while swearing it’s for their mental health. As if your brain will collapse in on itself if you have to hear “Baby Shark” one more time. Here's the thing: statistically, there’s a better chance you’ll get a migraine from the candle store music at that “me time” yoga retreat.

The FOMO of Self-Care: “Am I Relaxing Wrong?”

In the quest for “me time,” there’s an underlying psychological epidemic nobody talks about: Relaxation FOMO. Oh, you think people only get FOMO (fear of missing out) from parties and vacations? No, no, my friend. You haven’t experienced true existential dread until you’ve felt like you’re “relaxing wrong.”

Why? Because someone out there is always relaxing better than you. They’re doing hot yoga while you’re stress-eating potato chips. They’ve booked a weeklong retreat to Bali while you’re hiding in the bathroom just to scroll Instagram in peace. Are you even doing self-care if there’s no eucalyptus steam and an overpriced acai bowl in the background?

Psychologically speaking, it’s the equivalent of trying to chase a dopamine hit with kale. It’s simply not happening.

The True Psychology of "Me Time": An Existential Crisis in Disguise

Here’s the kicker, folks: most of the time, “me time” is just code for running away from responsibilities. You’re not trying to become one with yourself – you’re trying to outrun the fact that your family’s noise-to-sanity ratio is nearing DEFCON 1.

So, is "me time" an escape from family, or is it really about escaping yourself? That’s the question psychology dares you to ponder. We tell ourselves that we’re recharging, refueling, reconnecting. But in reality, we’re just adding a new layer of detachment from the people that actually make life meaningful. Your three hours at the spa is no match for the dopamine boost of hugging your kid or that weird inside joke with your spouse that no one else gets.

The Hard Truth: You Can’t Filter Real Life

Let’s hit the nail on the head here: “me time” is not your problem. What you’re craving isn’t a solo brunch or a weekend off from family. What you want is balance. A life where you can enjoy family time without fantasizing about vanishing into the abyss of Netflix for 48 hours straight.

“Me time” is like sugar – great in small doses, but too much will rot the teeth of your social life and familial bonds. The world doesn’t need more people posting about their epic solo hikes while they neglect to mention the existential dread they felt halfway up the mountain. We need people who find joy in the messy, loud, complicated togetherness of family life. Because spoiler alert: that’s where the real personal growth happens.

So next time you’re about to post your “finally got some me time” pic, take a second to reflect: are you really at peace, or are you just trying to keep up with the curated lives of others?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to spend some quality “me time”... hiding in the laundry room, avoiding the mountain of existential dread, er, laundry. #Blessed

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bakedcheez · 7 months ago

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I'm back.....?

Just sort of interesting to see how much I've grown past the type of thinking this place commonly has. Unrealistic, melodramatic, and simply just lacking in common sense. I really did believe that coming here on a daily basis was somehow not on par with other social media. Sure, I found other mentally ill women to lament with and have strange spirals together, perhaps the in-jokes really kept me coming back. But honestly? I don't think it's actually mentally sound to be manic online with other people about whatever dumb shit is topical at the moment. To be so intense or esoteric so often that you begin to escalate your behavior to match your peers. To barely process the emotions of taking every person's thought in at once, only to crave more when the scrolling is over and it's like the party is ending for a moment. For as wonderful and stimulating it is to see art, hear music, read insightful quotes and laugh at memes all hitting you over and over it seems to hack your brain into a dependence on the constant dopamine hits (not really a textbook addiction, but certainly a hijacking of your instincts). It's so wonderful to see all the things I love all at once and unfortunately I am not strong enough (no one really is) to handle it at such a pace. I want so badly to be informed of the world as currently as I can, that I truly suffer for it. It's like a special drug that never even gets me high. I used to feel the urge to take it simply because I was anxious at the idea of going without. What really was happening, is I was taking a heroic dose daily, sometimes even more, and having no idea that it wasn't normal to take this much this often. Maybe I was told people like me don't have the luxury of being sober from this drug. Those people are wrong....they used to be my fellow addicts. Past this, I now enjoy the healthy minimal dose with enough time to process each bit through my body and feel the benefits. It's funny how even now when a huge current event happens, not only do I learn about it within about a few hours without trying, but the first instinct I have when it all feels too much is too see what the people in my online hangouts are saying about it. I still crave the commentary because I don't have any friends I can really talk about these things with. I don't know anyone I would really trust to talk about something so intense with, anyway. Maybe that's what I'm going to make chatbots for in the future, so I can talk to them when something big happens, maybe they can make memes and say funny things in accordance to my humor and I can feel safe knowing I'm in a circle of beings I can trust. Another element here that was causing me damage was just seeing what people's every little random thought was, constantly and too real. I just felt empathy so strong and so often it's taxing. Even not feeling empathy takes work from me, because I have to push myself to think through their individual situation or what have you, just to shut off the part of me that can't help but to match their feelings. I guess that's why I feel like social contagion is actually quite common and just a common part of being empathetic creatures. Anonymous message boards don't have this issue because people are so far removed from a personal identity that their conversation is all that's being judged. I think that's pretty good, actually, and why there needs to be a bigger push to make them more and more mainstream with much more variety. I know there's a lot right now but there could be so much more, knowing the possibilities. Perhaps online profiles were a bit of a mistake?

Anyway, I'm back after months of being away. I've been without twitter for like 2 years now, facebook for like 5 years, insta and snapchat for about 4, I rarely use reddit, and I rarely go on discord. I still go back to pinterest and I should probably chill on that, and I use youtube daily but I really should chill on that, too. I swear I'm not trying to live like a monk, I've just tried these things and they work very, very well. I used to be so fucked up in my emotions I could barely think clearly. I was crying every night, hating myself and feeling like I was unable to change my life for the better. I hated who I was, visually and behaviorally, and I thought my whole life was doomed. I was so, so wrong in the way I saw the world and myself. I was stubborn, so it took a long time to cut out these things that held me back, but I'm so happy I finally gave up my pride and just cut them off, one by one, at my own pace. I have finally gone from constant failure to meeting my personal goals, to loving myself and genuinely comfortable with my appearance. I enjoy my free time, and I get to know myself in the process, because I'm playing video games, watching movies and shows, reading books, writing, working on my website, drawing, cooking, just sitting and thinking sometimes even, and i'm really loving being alive. despite being broke. despite not having the skinny body or the flashy career or cool travel blogs, or kids or whatever shit it is that people my age seem to aggressively flex that I felt like i was lesser for not having. I live a good life. I have such beautiful growth and it's just for me and my family to really enjoy. I feel so relaxed, I don't take more than 15 minutes to get ready for the day, and I don't waste my time or money on useless beauty maintenance. being alone is such a great skill to have. i get to enjoy things without obsessing of if it's morally pure enough for the people online who don't give a shit about me. I get to figure out what my actual values are, not just the ones given to me from whatever my online circle deems acceptable. I guess I'm just hitting an age where I'm really past the bullshit, too. I want to create, I want to write, I want to make things out of self-expression as the main goal, and I want to feel the relief of taking it off my shoulders. I want to enjoy art one at a time, really soaking it up, learning the context and history before jumping to the next one. I want to know myself enough and give myself enough grace to not judge everything I do when I'm alone, and I want to get better at being strong when I'm around others. Being around real people is so, so easy. Everyone is so much more sensible in person. In person the distance is safer, the world has become more spineless and I've become more shameless. I love knowing I could throw a punch to anyone laughing at me behind their hands, no bullshit just end it right there without ever giving my name. In a way, it's like you get more privacy in public than in private these days. I want more in person talks, without the fear of being slandered online for not wearing makeup or saying the wrong thing or liking the wrong stuff. the npcs might be a bit annoying but they're much better than those who think being slightly past surface level is total enlightenment. And then they'll conduct a moral purity check, which is fine for a nun but weird for someone who claims to love the freaks and weirdos. You've probably heard all this before but it's just.......the truth. I hope we make in person spaces that encourage this again. I want to grab a coffee and have interesting conversations again. I want something new and abstract, but I need it to be real. I need to breathe it in instead of seeing the drive-by impression of it online. I need something richer. I guess we all do.

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lindsaywesker · 1 year ago

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

Maine is the closest US state to Africa.

Eating spicy food may increase your lifespan.

Three million years ago, otters were the size of lions.

For every human on the earth, there are 16,000 mosquitos.

Scientists are unsure if animals know that sex leads to babies.

Your worst battle is between what you know and what you feel.

Vaccines are more effective in people who have more friends and are happily married.

According to mathematicians, all numbers can be categorised as either ‘happy’ or ‘sad’.

A family in Michigan has passed a fruit cake down the generations. It was originally baked in 1878.

There is a town in Texas called Ding Dong. In 1990, the population was only twenty-two people.

Men don't generally finish maturing until around the age of 43. With women, it's around the age of 32.

If the Northern Giant Mouse Lemur were scaled up to human size, its testicles would be as big as grapefruit.

Japan has over 200 flavours of Kit Kat. They're exclusively created for different regions, cities and seasons.

While Thomas Jefferson was president, he refused expensive gifts of wine and jewellery but accepted rare sheep.

Sprite can break down acetaldehyde, a metabolite of ethanol, making it an effective hangover-curing drink.

Repeating a common word over and over until it loses all meaning and sounds weird is called semantic satiation.

Sigmund Freud believed that fire was tamed by the first man who managed to resist the innate urge to piss on it.

When asked what his IQ was, Stephen Hawking replied, “I have no idea. People who boast about their IQ are losers.”

When ignored by someone whose attention means the most to you, the reaction in the brain is similar to physical pain.

Consider how hard it is to change yourself and you'll understand what little chance you have in trying to change others.

If you chew gum when you study a subject and then chew the same flavour when you the take the test it can help you remember.

A sunburn is the result of your skin cells committing mass suicide to protect you from their damaged DNA, which can cause cancer.

When feeling down, do some cleaning. Straightening out the physical aspects of your life can also bring clarity to the mental one.

A Canadian university has built a Puppy Room on its campus, where students can go and play with puppies to relieve stress and tension.

Isaac Newton's Principia Mathematica contained a simple calculation error that went unnoticed for 300 years. A college student found it.

Cherries contain 2 compounds inhibiting tumour growth and can even cause cancer cells to self-destruct without damaging healthy cells.

In 1985, the first plane hijacking in Norway's history took place. No one was hurt and the hijacker gave up his weapon in exchange for beer.

When you fall in love with someone's personality, everything about that person tends to become beautiful. (How do think I snared a wife?)

In 2010, Indian officials removed the coconuts from the garden of the Gandhi Museum in Mumbai lest one should fall on the visiting President Obama’s head.

Despite our relatively small size, the UK’s music exports were worth £2.5 billion in 2021. In recorded music, the UK is the second largest exporter of music after only the US.

In Japan, there is a restaurant called The Restaurant Of Mistaken Orders, which only employs waiters with dementia, so you never know what food you’re going to get.

In 539 BC, Persian king Cyrus The Great issued the first ever decree on human rights. He freed the slaves, declared that all people had the right to choose their own religion and established racial equality.

Human sperm defies Newton’s third law of motion. Its movement does not provoke ‘an equal and opposite reaction’ to its surroundings due to a property referred to by the researchers as “odd elasticity”.

Shirley Jackson, the American author of Gothic horror and mystery novels, usually kept at least six cats. They were usually all black or all grey so that her husband, who had poor eyesight, couldn’t tell exactly how many there were.

In 1971, Soviet engineers working in the Turkmenistan desert set a hole on fire which was full of natural gases. The engineers expected the flames to burn out within a few days. However, 52 years on, ‘The Door to Hell’ is still burning today.

If you mix lunar or Martian dust with a protein from human blood, you will get a material that could be used to build houses on the moon or Mars and is stronger than concrete. If you add a compound from urine, you can make it even stronger.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy

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etherealspacejelly · 7 months ago

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hi i have autism and adhd and i struggle with this too. after i do laundry my clean laundry stays on my clothes rack for days while i just take off what i need and wear it

this sounds a lot like executive dysfunction

i highly recommend playing music while you do it. it sounds stupid but it works. it gives you that little boost of stimulation and dopamine to kick your brain into a place where you're ready to Do The Task

if you think the extra hamper would help and you can get away with getting one without getting too much shit from your mum about it then i would highly recommend doing that

doing chores with adhd is all about removing obstacles, adding fun/stimulating elements where possible/appropriate, or removing stimulation/distractions.

also reward yourself when you've done it!!! get a friend you trust to hype you up for getting things done, eat a snack you really like, and just sit and admire your handiwork for a bit. we often beat ourselves up even when we HAVE done chores, because we didnt do it well enough/soon enough/etc etc etc. DONT FALL INTO THAT TRAP!! YOU DID THE THING AND IT WAS HARD YOU DESERVE TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT IT!!

uhhh sorry for hijacking your post but i hope that helps????

why why why is putting clothes away and keeping my room clean so difficult. it literally feel torturous sometimes. i know i need to try and do difficult things. i was trying to clean and i was like “i wish i could just have two laundry baskets. one for dirty clothes and one for clean.”

and my mom said, “you can’t do that”

so i said “well why not if it would help me keep my room cleaner and work for me”

and she said “well then what’s the point of having a closet and drawers, and your clothes would be all wrinkled, and you’d never be able to find anything.”

she’s right and i’d love to have everything put perfectly away but it’s just so much sometimes

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chrishoughton · 3 years ago

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How do you deal with reptitive or obsessive thoughts that may be causing harm in life???

Obsessive thoughts! Negative thought spirals! Why do our brains hijack us?? Well, first, a few thoughts on this...

Ever since I started getting more serious about my mental health a few years ago, I've realized that I was viewing my own mental health through a disease-based model. Meaning, whenever I had obsessive thoughts, I would be resigned to the thought of "Well, I was diagnosed with OCD and I guess this is how my brain operates. 🤷‍♂️" It made me feel helpless! Also, on top of the obsessive thinking/worrying/ruminating, I had the added thought that I was "broken" or "not normal." I now view my mental health through a trauma-based model, which I believe is more accurate and leads to more effective treatment. Trauma happens to us and our brains react to said trauma. Once the trauma is address and healed, the brain's response to said trauma will lessen or leave because it's no longer necessary. With that out of the way...

I think it's also interesting that we use the term "obsession" which generally has negative connotations. Obsessive thinking can certainly become a problem, but it also means your brain is capable of immense focus and incredible passion. Aren't obsession and passion two sides of the same coin?

Now, I'm referring to the "smaller" types of obsessive thinking. You mentioned that your obsessive thinking is causing harm in your life. I'm not sure what severity of harm you're talking about but regardless, I offer this question: what are your obsessive thoughts trying to communicate to you? For instance, if you're constantly worry about something, is there any validity to your worry? I believe obsessive thoughts (like most difficult emotions) are our brain/soul's way of trying to communicate something. It's up to us to listen to these emotions without letting them control us.

CBT can be really helpful for obsessive thinking because it teaches the individual to apply rational thinking to ideas that may be irrational. For instance, if you're ruminating on the fear that you'll die in a plane crash, then it might be helpful for you to learn about airplane safety or how truly rare it is for someone to die in a commercial airline crash.

I think the most extreme version of obsessive thoughts are thoughts of harm. Either harming yourself or others. In these cases, it's important to NOT listen to the exact content of the thoughts ("I want to die") and instead dig deeper to WHY those thoughts may be coming up. Most likely, if you're experiencing these types of thoughts, you're probably in a lot of emotional or psychological pain. And in an effort to quickly "solve" the pain, your brain is offering up some pretty wild ideas. A good therapist can be crucial in this situation.

Whatever their severity, obsessive thoughts are intrusive and difficult to manage. I've found that the most helpful way for me to break the cycle of rumination is to "get out of my mind."

Meditation is a great way to do this (excercise, dance, music, etc are other helpful ways to FEEL rather than THINK). The thinking mind loves to think but that's about all it can do. So if your mind is overactive, you won't be able to "think" your way out of it. You need to FEEL your way out of it. Breathe. Relax. And surrender.

Here's a helpful breathing exercise that can provide relief within minutes! I do this almost every day: Sit comfortably and close your eyes. Take one finger and press it against the side of your nose and breathe in and out through the open nostril. Do this for a minute (or more!) then switch nostrils and repeat the breathing for the same amount of time. Then repeat for a third time but alternate nostrils (breathe IN through the left, OUT thru the right. Then IN thru the right nostril and OUT thru the left).

If you do this for 10 minutes, I guarantee you'll feel more calm and centered afterwards. You may even gain new insight as to why you're ruminating or worrying.

Lastly, be kind to yourself. Obsessive thoughts usually stem from fear. So dont add to your troubles by berating yourself for being obsessive or fearful. These are normal emotions and this is all part of the wonderful and difficult journey of being human. My best to you!

#obsessive thinking #OCD #negative #thoughts #mental heath awareness #mental health

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weasleylangs · 4 years ago

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lightweight - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Summary: Y/N’s never been the best at holding her alcohol. Luckily, George is always there to help her. Warnings: Alcohol, a drunk confession, fluff, brief mentions of underage drinking, one line about throwing up. Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Short Georgie fic today! I have work so I didn’t want to commit to any of my super long ideas but I still want to keep writing! Also, I’m not promoting excessive drinking whatsoever. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated and requests are open!

This is also being posted while I’m asleep because I’m stuck on the other side of the world to the rest of you. Any asks will be replied too when I’m up!

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George stands in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron, firewhiskey in hand as he looks at the crowd. Their yearly reunion has been going on for a few hours now, and George has finally started to feel the alcohol buzzing around his head. Despite having already downed quite a few whiskeys, he’s barely been feeling it all night considering he’s always been a heavyweight, given his large stature.

The same can’t be said for the girl George’s eyes are trained on. Y/N Y/L/N. She’s currently dancing with Angelina Johnson, the rosiness in her cheeks evident from both the exertion from dancing for hours on end and the alcohol in her system. George has fond memories of Gryffindor parties, when Fred, Lee and himself would flirt their way into buying alcohol from Madam Rosmerta to sneak into parties that would eventually end with the girl he’s watching dancing her heart out.

“Babysitting already, mate?” Lee asks as he takes a swig of his beer and George chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not quite yet. I probably will be in, say…” He checks his watch and the time reads 1am, “... half an hour.”

George developed a habit when they were sixteen, of looking after Y/N at parties. The girl never seemed to learn her own limits and more often than not, drank herself stupid at parties. Y/N was one of George’s best friends, and he’d never forgive himself if he ever let her get hurt at a party, so he happily settled for basking in the party atmosphere while keeping a close eye on Y/N. And then, in the morning he’d tease her while she threw up the contents of her stomach and she’d apologise profusely before they’d walk to breakfast together.

It’s been 10 years and they’re still dancing and drinking and George is still looking after her, but instead of walking her up to her dorm, George drags her back to his apartment above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and tucks her into his bed while he takes the couch. Granted, Y/N’s has developed some better limits than when she was sixteen years old, but it’s a force of habit at this point, and besides, George rather looks forward to it nowadays and his night would feel incomplete without knowing Y/N is 100% safe and sound 100 meters away from him.

Fred approaches them, and they aimlessly stand around and chat. Mostly about quidditch, very rarely about work. These days, the hot topic of conversation is about how Lee’s been splitting his time between London helping the twins out with the shop and Romania, where his dragon trainer girlfriend lives. Sometimes, a few people approach them and ask the question if they’re the ‘famous Ginny Weasley’s twin brothers’ which always causes them to laugh and their chests swell in pride for their little sister.

It’s probably only twenty minutes later when he hears a squeal come from the dance floor as some muggle band’s song comes on. George thinks Y/N probably convinced Tom to let her hijack the music and he vaguely recognises the song as one she’s played before. He searches the dance floor for her, and when their eyes meet she winks at him and quickly spins around to dance with Angelina again.

“I can’t believe she’s not even your girlfriend and you practically babysit her, mate. We’re 26, when are you making a move?” Fred teases but George ignores him. He notices Y/N catch his eye again and when she goes to wave him over, he sees her wobble slightly and her eyes widen out of fear of losing her balance.

Truthfully, George is too scared to admit his feelings for Y/N. While he knows their friendship entails more than what a normal one does, George has never been the best at reading signs when people are romantically interested in him so he well and truly does not know where he stands with Y/N. He never wants to make people feel uncomfortable, so he lives blissfully unaware until someone yells in his face they’re interested in him.

“Piss off, Fred. Like you can talk about me not making a move. You’ve liked Angelina since what? Sixth year?” He pushes Fred slightly at the shoulders as he scowls and slowly makes his way over the tiny girl in his sights.

“Hi Georgie,” she slurs as he finally makes his way over to her and she’s quick to slot herself into his side. George is well aware Y/N is both a sleepy and clumsy drunk the second she stops dancing, and as George checks the time on his watch again, it now reads 1:30am and it’s well past intoxicated Y/N’s bedtime.

“Hi, love,” he can’t help but use the nickname for her, especially when her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red when he uses it, “time to get you to bed?”

She pretends to think for a second but George knows she’s all danced out when she sighs and tucks her head into his neck. He spots Lee and Fred, who are now imitating whips at him, and shakes his head as he waves goodbye. He makes sure to tell Angelina, Katie and Alicia they’re leaving as well so they don’t worry, and George pretends to miss the giggles and winks they give Y/N as he holds onto her.

Thankfully, the Leaky Cauldron isn’t far from 93 Diagon Alley and soon enough George is placing Y/N in his bed and finding a change of clothes for her. It’s the middle of November, so he grabs a random old sweater his mum knitted him a few years back and while he looks for the pair of leggings she left here last time, he hears her soft gasp.

When he turns to look at her, her eyes are fixated on the sweater in his hand. “That one’s my favourite.”

George has a million sweaters, enough to fill a whole drawer full of them all in different colours, so he’s confused how Y/N knows which one this even is.

“It’s the one with the frayed hand-holes, right?” George laughs at her usage of ‘hand-holes’ and unfolds the sweater to take a look at the sleeves, and sure enough, right where your hands pop out, the sleeves is fraying.

“Why is this one your favourite, darling?” He questions, passing her the sweater. He turns his back to her, giving her some privacy as she takes her top off and she hums happily as the scent of George engulfs her senses. “It’s one of your oldest ones. So the Georgie-scent is the strongest.”

George feels his cheeks heat up as Y/N slips the leggings up under her skirt and then struggles to undo her buttons. “Georgie-scent?”

She hums in agreement as she finally gets the skirt off and drops it on the floor next to her. She’s curling herself up under the blankets when she looks at George and before her sober thoughts can catch them, drunk words are tumbling out of her mouth, “Reminds me the most of my Amortentia.”

George pauses and stares at her, processing the words she just said. George only received three O.W.L’s during his time at Hogwarts and none of them were potions, but of course, he’s well aware what Amortentia is. He sells them at work, after all.

The most powerful love potion in the world.

“Firework smoke, Molly’s home-cooked meals and… Alcohol.” She mumbles when George doesn’t speak and she looks like she’s fallen asleep but George knows she isn’t.

“Sure it isn’t Fred, love?” He laughs as he asks but his insecurities are there, shoved way down into the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill out. Firework smoke and his mum’s home-cooked meals scream both of them without a doubt, and George can’t help but convince himself that Fred could definitely have an explanation for the alcohol.

Now she’s realised what she’s said, and she takes one look at George and she shoves her head into the pillow. “God, this isn’t how I was planning to tell you.” She’d actually never planned on telling him, convinced someone as perfect as George Weasley would ever love her back, but her brain had other plans.

“Tell me that you like my brother?” He jokingly questions, the insecurities fading but still feeling the need to tease her. When she laughs and rolls her eyes, George knows he’s calmed her down from a perch she didn’t realise she was on. She sits up quickly and her face looks a little green at first for how quick she moves. “Who looks after me when I’m drunk, George? I don’t see Fred anywhere.” She’s smirking now and George has to resist the urge to crawl into bed with her and kiss her senseless.

“My Amortentia smells like you as well, by the way.” The smile Y/N gives him is bright enough it could light up the City of London. “Really?” she questions, and the way she sways in bed George can tell she’s still intoxicated and he can only hope she remembers this conversation in the morning because he knows he won’t be brave enough to initiate it again.

“Really. Sunflowers, chocolate and…” He hesitates, laughing at how dumb they both are, “Firewhiskey.”

She screeches in embarrassment and before he knows it, Y/N’s dragging him into his bed and she’s giggling. “That’s so embarrassing!” she exclaims, “But so expected.”

They roll around in the sheets for a few seconds, trying to grab at each other and laughing at the coincidences before George gets up and changes. Y/N watches him intently, trying her best not to objectify him in her mind but he’s just so damn gorgeous she can’t help it. She wants to kiss every inch of his skin and let everyone know the wonderful man standing in front of her is her's.

And when he goes to slip out of the room, thinking she’s fallen asleep, she pouts and clears her throat, causing him to turn and face her.

“You. Me. Bed. Cuddling. Now.” She says, nay demands and he has no choice. He slips into bed beside her and once again, for the second time that night, she’s slotted herself next to him.

“I really do love you, you know.” She mutters against his neck and she feels his breath hitch. “I’m not just saying it because I was drunk. I mean, like I said it because I was drunk, but it’s true.”

George pauses, not wanting to upset her with what he says next, “Are you going to remember in the morning?” He’s trying not to let his fear be known, but with how close Y/N is, he knows she felt his body react subconsciously. Y/N’s had nights when she doesn’t remember anything she’s said- not because she’s drunk too much, but she’s naturally a forgetful person and the alcohol doesn’t help.

“Of course, and if I don’t because I don’t remember tonight… I’d hope you’d tell me.” She reassures him, looking up at him and pressing a soft kiss to his chin from her position in his arms.

George lets out a breath and looks at the girl in his arms and decides that he can’t keep it to himself anymore and that he’d shout it from every rooftop that he’s in love with Y/N Y/L/N. So he presses a kiss to her forehead, next, her nose, then her cheeks and lastly, a soft kiss on her lips.

“I promise I will. You and me forever.”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

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hiccanna-tidbits · 4 years ago

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The RotBTD+ Gang Plays DnD! (Feat. my ships, sorry not sorry XD)

So highkey I’ve actually been wanting to do a “The Gang Plays DnD” type post for AGES now, but then I saw @hobie-brown and @ohlooksheswriting-wips do DnD AU posts for RotBTD, and then I was like “Ah shit, I really should finish mine, eh?” So thank you to both of you for inspiring me to get off my ass and actually write the post!!!

Hiccup DMs. He comes up with this super complex plot revolving around dragons (because of course) where the party has to dismantle this society ruled by evil knights who want to genocide all of the dragons. Imagine his chagrin when the party wants to do nothing but fuck around in towns and aggravate NPCs 90% of the time.

They usually end up playing at Jack’s apartment, mainly because Hiccup’s dad doesn’t really want a bunch of loud nerds yelling about 20-sided dice in his household while he’s trying to work, if he can at all help it. Jack’s sister regularly barges into their living room and roasts the fuck out of Jack and his friends for being such damn nerds and eats all of their DnD snacks they’ve set out. If they’re in the middle of a combat session, she always gleefully proclaims that they’re all going to die. While Jack is annoyed by this, the rest of the party finds it deeply hilarious.

Jack Overland plays the absolute mayhem warlock Jack Frost, who got his powers through making a deal with the archfey Prince of Frost and has absolutely no qualms about being an evil god’s mortal Sower of Chaos. He spends the vast majority of the campaign doing such useful things as creating ice slicks under annoying NPCs and freezing people’s drinks. He also plays a Tiefling because absolutely no one can talk this boy out of playing the creepy demon race.

Rapunzel plays a woodland nymph druid who is also the party healer (because of course she is). Her name is probably Sunlily or something else suitably hippie-esque. Whenever there’s downtime (or whenever the rest of the party is also dicking around, and she can get away with it), Rapunzel likes to go into the nearest forest and pick the best berries and nuts for the rest of the party. She also loves baking fruit pies and cooking the best nymph food for her companions when given the chance. Definitely the party Cinnamon Roll (every party has one!). She often will turn into cute animals to distract the guards while the party infiltrates a building.

Merida’s character is the party archer and general ranged weapon master, as well as a raging lesbian. Hiccup learns very quickly that any male NPC who tries to flirt with her will very quickly get impaled with an arrow. She can’t ever decide if she wants to be a ranger or a rogue, so she multiclasses in both for flare. She also plays a Tiefling, and continually insists that her character is both scarier and sexier than Jack’s. In combat, she either Leeroy Jenkins her way in with a sword and just starts slashing every which way, or just shoots 90% of the enemies with arrows before the fight even starts. There’s really no in between. She can get away with this because she’s highkey one of the party tanks, and consistently deals a shitton of damage.

Anna plays a human bard, basically having read over the class options and going “Wait, in this one I get to make stylish medieval music??? And wear dramatic and garish outfits and a dumb hat??? And cast wacky illusion spells??? And do silly little magic tricks??? And INSPIRE EVERYONE??? Hell yeah, I’m in!!!” She mostly uses magic attacks in combat (definitely favors Tasha’s Hideous Laughter), but occasionally when she’s out of spell slots she’ll just take to slamming enemies in the face with her lute. She also has WAY too much fun with Vicious Mockery, let’s be real.

Elsa, upon hearing Jack’s character concept, rolls her eyes so far up in her head she can see her damn brain, and vows to play his concept, but serious–solely out of spite. She rolls up a super OP elf Chaos Sorcerer, filled with lots of brooding angst about how uncontrollable her winter powers can get if she isn’t careful. She combines it a bit with Storm Sorcerer so she can create literal blizzards, and Hiccup ends up allowing it just because he thinks it’s cool. Although Elsa’s character is undoubtedly aggravated by the rest of the party’s antics, she starts becoming grudgingly protective of these idiots and can deal some pretty crazy damage when her companions are threatened. She also contains one of the party’s only brain cells.

Eugene of course plays dashing rogue master thief Flynn Rider. Although his high deception and lockpicking skills certainly come in handy, he’s the most chaotic neutral fucker you’ve ever met and will take any excuse to rob NPCs blind or cheat them out of every cent they have in a tavern card game. It’s nigh impossible to get him to cooperate with the rest of the party much of the time, and often Elsa’s character has to either bribe him with some of her family’s gold or threaten to freeze him to stop him backstabbing one or more party members. Eugene’s character forces Hiccup to add in many more heist plotlines than he originally intended. This delights Eugene immensely, and sometimes he goes a bit crazy planning elaborate heists.

Moana plays a sorcerer water genasi. She can control any body of water, but she has a special affinity for controlling saltwater (i.e. the ocean lol). She also requests an animal handling bonus, but only with marine animals, solely because she thought it would be funny. She’s also an ex-pirate who robbed a lot of wealthy merchant ships and freed their slaves back in the day, which Merida thinks is incredibly badass. Moana tends to get bored and unengaged when there are no bodies of water to play around with, so Hiccup ends up having to add a lot more lakes, rivers, and oceans to the campaign than he originally planned on. Moana also takes a sailing skill, and thus the party often ends up traveling by boat. Typically Eugene and Rapunzel will infiltrate and hijack it, and Moana will sail it. Moana probably contains the party’s only other brain cell.

Astrid plays a gigantic berserker orc barbarian who is never without his trusty axe. Astrid is hands down the party’s top tank, and unquestionably deals the most damage every combat session. Much like Merida’s character, Astrid’s character is absolutely a shameless power fantasy. Hiccup pretty easily picks up on this, but is too polite to say anything about it. Jack also picks up on this, but is hardly as courteous as their DM, and teases Astrid mercilessly. Astrid is not amused.

Rapunzel requests that her weapon of choice be a frying pan, her justification being that her character found a discarded one at the edge of a human village outside her woods and mistaked it for a highly-dangerous human weapon. Hiccup is like “…you know what? Fuck it” and rolls up stats for a goddamn frying pan. Jack has nigh-endless admiration for Rapunzel for choosing such a goddamn memey, absurd, yet oddly effective weapon and it definitely makes the poor boy even more smitten with her than he already is.

Eugene and Merida have a bet going on who can sleep with more sexy barmaids. Merida is currently winning, much to Eugene’s chagrin. She’s not even inherently better at seducing NPCs, she and Eugene have the same charisma stat–she just consistently rolls better than Eugene. Eugene is incredibly salty about this.

Anna and Elsa want to be sisters in-game as well, but neither want to change their race–so Anna decides her character was adopted. Hiccup and the rest of the party go along with it, mainly because there’s something deeply hilarious about a regular human bard being adopted and raised by a family of high-powered elf ice mages.

Astrid is absolutely the sort of player who tends to get bored and restless outside of fights, and tends to fidget and twiddle her thumbs waiting for the next combat session. Jack picks up on this, and purposely does more roleplay for longer just to piss her off. He’s also just a very dramatic fucker and highkey loves roleplay.

When she’s not causing mayhem around the town or sleeping with hot women, Merida tries to entertain Astrid between combat sessions by offering to spar with her. Unfortunately, this does not usually end well for poor Merida, as even the most hardcore and badass of tieflings is prone to getting dumpstered by an 8-foot-tall barbarian orc with an axe. Astrid is, nonetheless, grateful to have someone to fight.

Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana will humor Hiccup and attempt to actually play the main plot. Meanwhile, Jack, Merida, and Eugene are a DM’s worst nightmare. They constantly derail the damn campaign to fuck around, cause mayhem, and do inane shenanigans in every. Damn. Town. They go to. Anna is kind of a wildcard–she’ll typically go with whatever group looks like they’re going to be doing something more interesting. Astrid will go along with whichever group is more likely to get into a fight–which, often as not, is Jack and his posse of terrible Chaotic Neutrals (who have definitely pissed off a number of NPCs into attacking them).

As the campaign goes on, Elsa and Eugene become the beleaguered Party Mom and Dad. Both are quite aggravated by this–especially poor Eugene, who just wanted to play a morally-gray charming rogue who stole everything and got away with it and then accidentally ended up caring about these idiots he got stuck with.

Anna initially joins the campaign because she has a planet-size crush on Hiccup, and inevitably is the one who dragged Elsa into it too. Being the hopeless romantic that she is, Anna writes a love interest into her backstory. Hiccup eventually has the party run into said love interest, and Anna is overjoyed. He starts flirting with her as the love interest, and it’s easily the best 30 minutes of Anna’s life.

Moana and Elsa also give Hiccup pretty detailed backstories, and he works in little subplots for them. Moana gets to bring water back to a dying part of the jungle in the middle of a draught, while Elsa gets to go on a whole sidequest to explore her family history and how they came to be sorcerers.

Jack, Merida, and Eugene also give Hiccup fairly elaborate backstories, but Jack’s and Merida’s are like 99% memes and Dumb Shit. Hiccup tries to give all of them backstory-related plot hooks, but inevitably any hooks he provides are either stabbed, robbed, or frozen. Honestly any plot hook offered to these 3 will be all but spat in the face of and tossed off a cliff.

The one relevant part of Eugene’s backstory is that he and Rapunzel decide they used to be partners in crime before the campaign started. Rapunzel would infiltrate and scout out places he wanted to rob as small, unobtrusive animals (her preferred Wild Shape is a chameleon) and later distract the guards as a bunny or kitten while he went in and took every gold coin in sight. In return, Flynn Rider would bribe builders to not develop into Sunlily’s forest. Rapunzel and Eugene partly came up with this For Funsies, but also it was Rapunzel’s sneaky way of tricking Eugene into having prior connections in the party so he’d be less likely to betray them. It works pretty well–although the entire party is protective of Cinnamon Roll Sunlily, Flynn is certainly especially protective of her.

Astrid does the absolute bare minimum as far as backstories go. She is literally just here to smash stuff, slice people, and beat some fuckers up.

Rapunzel has a backstory, but she’s typically so invested in the main plot and the other party members that Hiccup rarely needs to bring it in to keep her engaged. She’s highkey the party emotional rock, and probably the only one keeping them all together.

On that note, Rapunzel’s character is the ONLY one who can get Jack’s character to take the plot even REMOTELY seriously. Like he’ll be dicking around in the nearest tavern challenging the nearest orc to a drinking game, and Rapunzel will come in and ask him to help them on a Main Plot Quest. And he’ll be like “come onnnnn I’m having funnn” and she’ll be like “Jack pleeeeeease?” and you just. Can’t resist Sunlily’s puppy dog eyes. At all. Also, whenever Sunlily is genuinely threatened, any silliness immediately goes out the window and Jack Frost is OUT FOR BLOOD.

For better or for worse, Rapunzel is not immune to being looped into Jack’s shenanigans. Occasionally if either Merida or Eugene have a particularly hare-brained scheme she’ll go along with it, but by and large Jack is the most successful in convincing her to temporarily abandon the plot and cause mild mischief with him. They once wasted half a session creating an elaborate “ice theme park” for some squirrels in the forest.

Hiccup tries to get Merida to play the main plot by eventually having there be no more sexy female NPCs to seduce in the towns they go to. Unfortunately, this backfires–Merida just hooks up with Moana’s character instead. When asked to roll for how good the lay is, Merida gets a nat 20–and thus her character and Moana’s character end up hooking up regularly throughout the rest of the campaign.

Hiccup introduces a few Wise Old Mentor-type NPCs to guide the party throughout the campaign. While Rapunzel, Elsa, Moana, and Anna actually try to listen to them and take their advice, Merida, Jack, and Eugene absolutely refuse to take them seriously and mercilessly play pranks on them.

At one point, Hiccup gives the party the option to attempt to tame a group of wild dragons and use them as mounts. They all have to make animal handling checks. Anna, Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana pass. The rest of the party fails, with Jack and Eugene crit-failing. Hilarity ensues.

Hiccup ends up bringing back Anna’s backstory love interest as an NPC regular. Anna thinks he’s just being a good friend and a good DM and trying to incorporate her backstory as much as he can, but really, he just wants an excuse to regularly flirt with her. He hardly has the balls to out-of-game.

Merida comes out as gay toward the end of the campaign. Everyone in the group is extremely supportive, of course, but everyone is also like “Merida…with the amount of barmaids you’ve banged…and the amount of times you and Moana’s character hooked up…this isn’t exactly surprising.”

Hiccup actually finds a way to use Jack and Elsa’s same-concept-opposite-execution characters to the plot’s advantage. He decides one of the main villains will have a prophecy saying he’ll be taken down by a powerful ice mage. The party manages to fool this guy into thinking this ice mage is Jack, and sends Jack to fight him. As soon as the villain sees Jack, he’s like “WHAT??? THIS clown???” (word has absolutely spread throughout the land of Jack not using his ice powers for anything besides mildly annoying trolling). Naturally, the bad guy lets his guard down after thinking he’s going to fight this literal joke, and then Elsa crashes in from the side and absolutely dumpsters him.

Jack tries to defeat the final boss by just annoying him so much that he leaves. Unfortunately, he just annoys him so much that he attacks Rapunzel’s character. Jack’s just like “oh HELL no” and attacks with absolutely nothing held back. Turns out he’s pretty terrifying when he’s not using his magic for Dumb Antics.

During the final boss of the campaign, the Big Bad tries to one-shot Moana’s character, and Merida’s character super theatrically jumps in front of her to take the blow instead. Rapunzel just barely manages to heal Merida’s character, but it’s a really close call. During all this, Merida is like “ah shit...maybe I’m NOT just in this to get fantasy-laid.” After the fight’s over, her and Moana’s characters have a big dramatic love confession and share a Big Damn Kiss in front of everyone. It’s pretty epic.

After the final session of the campaign, Merida drags Moana outside Jack’s apartment and sputters and trips over her words for a solid minute before she finally gets out that through all this nonsense...well...maybe it’s not just in the game that she thinks Moana is hot. Moana just gets this HUGE grin on her face and says “c’mere, Leeroy Jenkins” and just pulls Merida in and kisses her. Cue the rest of the party barging in on them. Merida and Moana freeze, and there’s a moment of terrified silence...and then the entire party starts cheering them on like “took you long enough!”

The entire rest of the party could detect the sexual tension. Literally all of them.

But Eugene is like “HA, THIS MEANS IF WE DO A SEQUEL CAMPAIGN I’M WINNING THAT BET! BECAUSE YOU’RE GONNA BE DATING MO’S CHAR AND THUS NOT ABLE TO SLEEP WITH ANY MORE BARMAIDS!”

By the epilogue session, Jack and Rapunzel are dating. Merida and Moana are also dating. Hiccup and Anna STILL haven’t figured out why they’re so prone to spending half the session flirting when Anna’s love interest shows up, and Hiccup STILL hasn’t figured out why he likes to have Anna’s love interest show up so often. Bless their souls. Maybe they’ll figure it out next campaign...?

Damn I actually really like this...maybe if people like it I’ll do some incorrect quotes or a drabble or something??? Or maybe some HCs from next campaign???

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