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copperbadge · 2 days

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Lately, it's felt like every time I've started to work on writing, I'll just be getting into the rhythm of it when I get interrupted, either by work or the cats or because the time I'd booked in the library study room is up (you can only do two hours at a time, and only four hours a week total). It was getting to the point where I kept re-reading the same chapter or so of previous work but never managing to add to it.

So I tried an experiment this past weekend -- I found a really cheap rate on a local hotel room, and on Friday I took an overnight bag and a very old laptop with limited processing power and checked into a room about a mile from home for a quasi "staycation". I unpacked and had a quiet night on Friday, as prelude to working Saturday-Sunday. The idea was to write uninterrupted by other people, pets, the presence of all my Stuff around me at home, et cetera.

I had snacks but I also bought meals out, which was nice; I don't often order in or buy out when I'm at home. The way I set up was that I would do fifty minutes of writing with do-not-disturb engaged on my phone and then ten minutes of checking email, texts, etc. since often what pulls me out of writing is a text or an email that needs answering, or the anxiety that I'm missing one that would. If I set it so that every hour I check, well, nobody's going to die if something doesn't get answered in an hour, so the anxiety isn't there, and neither is the distraction. (I found a nice app for this, review later depending on how functional it continues to be for me, but it's a like $4 app called Forest.)

It worked pretty well -- writing for an uninterrupted hour, as long as I know what I'm working on, is very functional for me. I average about two thousand words, that way, though there is a limit to the number of hours I can put in. I ended up doing two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon, then switched from fiction writing to clearing out my tumblr drafts and some correspondence for the fourth hour. So it went something like

Go out and get breakfast, bring back and eat in room

Change into lounging clothes and do two one-hour sessions

Go out and get lunch, eat lunch out

Bit of a rest break back in the room

Two one-hour sessions, one of writing; when tired, switch to something that requires less creativity

Go out and get dinner, bring back and eat in room

And then in the evening the plan was to watch movies or catch up on reading, but I ended up being mentally weary, so instead I did some simple tarot reading. It was less divination or even meditation than just messing around, keeping the creativity stimulated; I did a couple of Creative Writing spreads, some very brief divination spreads (I nicked a nice three-card spread here that I mentally call He To Hecuba, and just used it in general rather than for a specific question) and then invented a spread when I was starting to get irritated that the same like, five cards kept coming up, more on this in its own post.

Sunday I did one more writing session but it was less successful, I think partly because what I was writing required a lot of research and partly because the previous day I'd dumped eight thousand words into the file. (Research took longer because I brought the most garbage laptop known to man, and the browsers crash if you try to open Google Maps, but in other ways it was ideal since there wasn't much I could do on it other than write.) But I had a good breakfast, got some rest, packed up easily enough, and headed home just ahead of the rain storm.

I don't think it's something I'll be able to do in that format especially often, since the deal I got on the hotel was an anomaly and Chicago lodging, even just AirBNB stuff, is stupid expensive. But in addition to helping get some work done it was a nice break, so I'm going to look into ways I could swing it on a perhaps monthly basis, or some other way to cheaply spend an entire day alone with decent access to a bathroom/snacks and a way to come and go easily. I've looked into coworking spaces before but they tend to be prohibitively expensive and don't really have the setup I'd prefer; there's a hostel on the north side with private rooms that I might try out but it doesn't seem significantly cheaper than a hotel. I might just have to pick one weekend a month and watch last-minute hotel price cuts where they simply want to fill a room for a day or two.

Anyway, functionally I wrote almost a fifth of a novel this weekend, and one that I wasn't feeling super on fire about; I'm feeling much better about it now that I've got some established plot going and I feel like I "know" the newer characters a bit better. (Also I'm enjoying writing Simon as someone who is absolutely entranced by his love interest and clueless that what he's feeling isn't mild antipathy because they met while fighting over ricotta.) So it was a big help, although if I were to put a budget line item in the Extribulum Press ledger for "writing staycation" it would wipe out my royalties surplus very quickly.

#writing #shivadhverse

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milky-aeons · 2 days

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𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒

౨ৎ . . . alpha!CHUUYA NAKAHARA is not very fond of the attention you have been giving one of his subordinates — and he never could be subtle about anything.

warnings: alpha!au, pining, criminal themes, swearing, mentions of violence, mating-bonds, jealousy, depictions of smoking, w.c. 724

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ teenage dream — katy perry ꒱ ˎˊ-

Chuuya Nakahara hadn't realised he'd been constantly tapping his pen until the sound became mingled with his daydream.

The one where he emptied an entire round of bullets into his subordinate's shitty head.

He snarled to himself — what the fuck was wrong with him, thinking about shit like that? A Mafia General didn't spend time fantasizing about killing his own men lest they did something very wrong. And this particular subordinate hadn't necessarily done anything wrong — except, smiled at you in a way that made Chuuya's blood curdle sour.

The memory of this morning's meeting came on unwanted — he didn't need any more reason to feed the feral side of him — and yet there it was; clear as rain, scorching as a brand.

Each of the five executives had been called for a weekly debrief and sat poised around the round table — Mori and Elise, of course, leading at the top. He saw how the entourage of lower Mafia men filed in to provide drinks at the brief interlude; he saw how of those men — one of his men — smiled at you. And above all else; he saw how you, lowering your lashes and resting your cheek on your hand, smiled right back.

He didn't really absorb any of the likely important meeting pointers after that.

Chuuya leaned back in his chair and threw an arm over his eyes. He knew these feelings weren't his fault, he knew that part of being an alpha was to find your mate, and he managed to land his amongst one of the bloodiest, most lethal echelons of society. From the first time he saw you and felt the mating-bond snap into place, Chuuya Nakahara vowed that he never could tell you. Could never subject you to a relationship so strong when, at the drop of a hat, either one of you could end up in a casket in this line of work.

The heartbreak of losing a mate when the bond is accepted is said to be devastating. It has been likened to having your limbs ripped away, like having an integral part of yourself gone, forever.

Chuuya sat in his office and let the image of you with another man torture him for a couple of minutes. Maybe to subject himself to the pain of it so it would hurt that little bit less. His inner canine roiled at the idea. It tried to claw its way through his ribcage, making every inch of his skin strain and burn. It was so inherently wrong to imagine his mate with someone else; someone that wasn't him, who knew and loved you so deeply he didn't know what to fucking do with himself.

His leg started bouncing.

Now that he let the floodgates down, it was a tidal wave. An influx, both an assault and a blessing on his senses as his mind filled with all things you. Your subtle scent, the swish of your hips as you walked so proudly down the hallways, the way you lit up a cigarette and held it so delicately between your red lips. He'd tell himself all of this was magnified to him. That his alpha senses projected you as the perfect, ideal partner. But in times like this when his instincts prevailed over his common sense, he couldn't see that difference — the line was a distant, blurred, incomprehensible thing.

His other leg started bouncing.

Stifle it, push it down, she deserves so much better than you.

He could feel the pressure in his gums; his incisor teeth trying to elongate; evident that his beast was stirring and gaining control. Fuck, he had to breathe, he had to get his feelings under control.

Then, there was the image of you in a white wedding dress. You had someone else's ring on your finger. You let somebody else lift the veil from your head and promise their soul to you, their life to you. He imagined standing in the cheering crowd while you were dipped down and kissed on the lips by a man that was not him, and suddenly, any rhyme nor reason did not seem so loud.

The pen he had been previously tapping clattered to the floor. His chair had hit the ground with the force of how hard he stood.

Suddenly, everything just seemed so damn simple.

✎ . . . requested by the always wonderful @ringsofsaturnnnn!

WRITING REQUESTS

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bsd fanfiction #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd headcanons #🎋 — writing requests #chuuya nakahara fluff #a short and sweet one for my baby boy's birthday !!#dividers by fireflygraphics <3

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kitorin · 1 day

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misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

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georgescitadel · 3 days

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George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones (1/3)

You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.

Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.

As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.

In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.

The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.

In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.

‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

#Ned Stark #Catelyn Stark #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Bran Stark #Jon Snow #Tyrion Lannister #Daenerys Targaryen #The Outline #A Game Of Thrones #George R.R. Martin #ValyrianScrolls #ASOIAF

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magpiepills · 2 days

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Made Me Love You

Chapter 2

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY! MDNI

Pairing: Tommy Miller x AFAB reader, Joel Milled x AFAB reader

work count: 3.7

Summary: you and Joel are left to your own devices after a night of debauchery with Tommy and emotions run high.

Warnings: smut, PIV, Unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst. No use of Y/N no established age gap, no physical description of reader, angst, etc.

A word from the author: this is a repost! I don’t normally like to get too plot heavy because I prefer to jam-pack my writing with wall to wall smut, but I didn’t think I could continue this story without some plot. Don’t worry, though, it’s still plenty explicit. I think I may have one more chapter in me to finish out this story, maybe two. I can’t make promises, though. If you see spelling and/or grammar mistakes, just ignore those. I write all this on a phone with a broken screen. Hope you enjoy! Big kiss to the ✨magic sluts✨ for the inspiration.

Tommy didn’t wake you before he slipped out for a long day checking over a new job site. He had left you sleeping peacefully, alone in the bed you’d shared, where he and his brother had both fucked you thoroughly last night. Your sleep was deep and dreamless. Just like you had wanted, and you awoke slowly, tangled in the sheet, naked and warm. You looked around and let the memory of the night before play back in your mind. It made your heart ache. The room was quiet and still, with sunlight slanting in through the curtains. When you rolled over, Joel was there, in his own bed, face squished into his pillow, looking at you as if waiting for you to tell him what to do, but you just met his gaze and looked into his eyes for a while across the narrow space between your beds, each of you at the end of an invisible tether.

Joel had woken up early, he never slept well but it was pointless to even try after what had happened.

“Hungry?”

“Mm. Coffee maybe.” You kept the conversation simple, not wanting to get into the messy tangle you’d tied with him last night at 8am. You stretched, arching your back into the mattress. You realized that you were still naked under the sheets, and debated asking Joel to hand you your robe but the little part of you that liked teasing him won out, and you slipped out of bed naked to saunter to the bathroom. You didn't check to see if he was looking.

You took a long shower, repeating your routine while replaying everything that had happened in your mind, remembering everything they had said. Everything Joel had said. You didn’t regret it exactly, but you hadn’t given any thought to how things would be between the three of you now. Part of you hoped you’d never speak of it again, never acknowledge it, wipe the whole thing from your memories, only revisiting it when you were all alone and certain that no one could hear you thinking. Another part wanted every night to be an encore, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm of generous sex in dim hotel rooms. That couldn’t happen, though. Another part, a quiet part, wanted Joel to be all yours- wanted him to be the one you would go back home with.

By the time you clicked off the bathroom light, everything was made up in your mind. Last night didn’t happen, there would be no repeat, no need to talk it over, and everything would be just as it had been before. It was easier that way. No proof anything had ever happened existed. If anyone found out it would be because Tommy or Joel had told. You would deny the whole thing, play it off as an inside joke and let them sort the betrayal out for themselves. It was the only option that could make sense, even if it made your chest ache a little, knowing that Joel was everything you wanted and would never have. Not the way you really wanted him, anyway.

You finished primping, put on some sunscreen and your favorite purple swimsuit, and went in search of your book to read by the pool.

Your resolve nearly shattered before you could make it out of the room. Sitting on your bed, next to your book, looking warm and inviting in a dark blue t-shirt and cargo shorts, holding an iced coffee as if he had dropped straight from boyfriend heaven, was Joel. Damn him. He smiled and held out the coffee, and you wanted to melt into his chest. Damn him. “Got donuts too.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he worried he would frighten you away. His eyes are so big and dark and soft and full of things he wanted to tell you. Things he would tell you later.

Your plan hadn’t included a section on explaining to the brothers that none of you were to speak of the event, and were to act as if it were a strange dream. You flipped your book out of the way and sat beside him, hoping that your nerves would settle with some caffeine. Your plan didn’t include him looking this good, either.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.” You tried so hard to sound casual, like you hadn’t cried his name into his shoulder while he fucked you better than anyone ever had before, and that you weren’t still dabbing his cum, commingled with his brother’s from your pussy. He clearly didn’t get the message from your tone, because after he handed you a donut, his hand was on your thigh in an impossibly casual gesture of intimacy.

“I should be taking you out to breakfast after last night.” His voice was an octave lower, and slower. Oh no. “We don’t have to… we can…we could act like that didn’t happen.”

“Is he good to you?” So much for that.

“Yeah, Joel. He’s good. It’s good.”

“He’s away a lot.”

“It’s his job. He’s got to be at the sites. You understand that. You’re away working a lot too.” You can hear the waver in your own voice. You can hear how it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.

“I’m here now.” He said, moving a little closer and gently dragging two thick fingers back and forth across your shoulder.

“We should go to the beach. Make a day of it. Tommy said he wouldn’t be home until late and I don’t want to waste a nice day like this.” He made it easy to read between the lines. “How late did he say?” How much time did you have alone with Joel before Tommy came back? “Six. Maybe later. He’s going to a meeting with the building inspector. We have the whole day.” His eyes searched your face, desperate for you to understand him. Last night wasn’t enough for him.

He watched as you dug through your drawer for the swimsuit you wanted, admiring the soft curves and slopes of your body, greedily staring at all the things he'd only imagined before. Once you were tied into your suit, you turned to Joel and saw he’d changed into the ugliest trunks you’d ever seen in your life. “Joel ..” you gawked at him, they looked too big and the pattern was a garish yellow, blue, and black pattern that your brain couldn’t even make sense of. “What? What’s wrong with them?” He ran his hand over the front, adjusting his half hard cock in the mesh lining, watching you watch him touch himself. “Nothing. Ready to go?” He pulled on a stretched out white t-shirt, zipped a key card into his back pocket, and you slipped out of the hotel into the morning sun. You walked up the beach, avoiding the most obvious topic, and falling into comfortable silence. Your mind swam with conflict. Thoughts of Tommy, your relationship, and how what you really wanted was to stay in the room and fuck Joel again.

When you made it down to the beach, Joel held the little cooler he’d packed in one hand, and took your hand in the other while you carried the bag with your towels and sunscreen. You walked further, looking for a more secluded spot away from your hotel and his arm was around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. It felt so natural to be with him like this that you could easily ignore everything that was wrong. Finally picking a place to set up for the day, Joel rented an umbrella and you laid out the towels side by side, making a solitary little island in the sand for the two of you to live on disconnected from reality for as long as possible.

You took turns rubbing sunscreen into each other. He started with your back, then slid down your arms. He took his time on your chest, his fingertips dimpling the plush swell of your breasts, dipping under the fabric of your top, watching intently how your body responded to his touch. Marveled at how your nipples were hard and pressed against the triangle of your top. Satisfied with his work, he guided you to lean back into your elbows. He squeezed more Hawaiian Tropic into his palm and spread it across your belly. You could have done this yourself, but he didn’t stop and you wanted every bit of contact you could get today.

His touch was tender and slow, working his way over your hips, thighs, calves. He felt like he was getting away with something when he touched you like this. When he was done he handed the bottle to you and laid on his stomach. You straddled him and as you slicked him up, making him smell like an island god, you teased him. “I should leave a bare spot in the shape of my initials. Give you a sunburn tramp stamp.” He scoffed, “Do it. Brand me. Then I’ll put my name on you. Once my name’s on it, it’s mine.” He squinted up at you with one eye and gave your knee a squeeze and rolled under you to lay on his back, his new position letting you feel his hard length against your pussy. You rubbed your core against him as you covered his chest in SPF 50, admiring the freckles that made constellations over his shoulders.

When you were done you moved off his lap, pulling away from his grasp. You took a nectarine from your bag and took a few bites before Joel held your wrist and pulled the fruit to his mouth, holding your gaze he took a bite right over where yours had been in what felt like a small, but profoundly intimate act.

“Come swim with me.” Joel was a strong swimmer, and it was one more thing about him you liked. You always knew you were safe with him. He always knew what to do, he stayed calm, he was strong and big and decisive. Tommy was a good swimmer too, but you knew he couldn’t save you if you were in danger.

Out as far as you could go in the water, you swam, paddling over the waves, floating on your backs, diving under or getting knocked under by early breakers. Joel was always there to turn you right side up, helping readjust your swimsuit while you got your bearings. When it felt like it must be lunch time, you motioned toward the shore. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around you and took you a little deeper and kissed you. He tasted like saltwater and the nectarine you’d shared.

He held your hips,and pulled you close until his thigh was between your legs, letting you feel how hard he was. No one could see you and no one could stop you from grinding against him, aided by his big, strong hands now palming your ass under your swimsuit. Joel kissed your neck, and slid his right hand over until his fingers covered your pussy, making you whine at the sensation and tighten your grip on his shoulders. He kissed your ear and spoke into it, sounding equal parts surprised and proud. “Wasn’t sure I’d get to touch you like this again, but I think you want it.” He was getting bolder in the privacy of the water. “I think you wanted this before.” He emphasized his point with another firm press against your increasingly sensitive folds. If this was an interrogation, you were folding. “Yeah. Yes. Wanted you before. Wanted this.” You reached between your bodies into his stupid, ugly trunks and found him hard. You stroked him as he continued his ministrations and breathed into your ear as you told him how you’d thought of him when you were alone, making yourself come on your fingers. How you’d pictured him instead of Tommy when there was a cock spurting down your throat, and how you wanted him to overwrite all of your memories and color himself in their place.

He had enough. He pushed you away from his body, and pulled you slowly to shore, taking time to think of baseball, gravel, traffic, bugs, anything to draw the blood away from his cock long enough to get back to the hotel. Back on land, he threw his towel around his neck and wrapped you in yours, rushing you back toward the room the two of you shared with your boyfriend. The walk was silent and heavy with anticipation. Joel kept you tucked tight against his side. In the elevator he took your hand and squeezed it tight, looking down at you and not bothering to hide his desire, but still silent. It was a long ride up. Every time the doors opened and closed, letting other guests on and off at their floors you wanted to scream. Finally, finally back at the room, you barely made it in the door before he was crowding you against the door, holding you, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses over your neck and jaw, before gently pushing you onto your knees. “Just for a minute. Please. I’ve gotta see your lips around me again.”

You liked how he looked when he begged. You made a show of looking up at him as you tugged down those hideous trunks, letting his cock spring free before your face. You grasped the base and gave him a few light licks up the length of his shaft, kissed the blushing head, then wrapped your hand around his shaft to gently pump him while you lavished attention there. His foreskin was smooth and soft on your tongue and slipped back and forth just a bit with your movements. You dropped both hands to your knees and took him further, slowly down, slowly back up, letting him hear you breathe, holding his gaze. He was babbling half coherent praise as you sucked “yeah, just like that. Fuck. So good. So fuckin’ good. Look at you.” You thought he would come in your mouth, but instead he pulled you up and walked you backward toward his bed, guiding you onto your back.

He leaned over you, boxing you in with a muscular arm on either side of your head and a knee between your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed to feel him most, but frozen by the charge in the air between you. Joel was looking down at you with a look of menace and tenderness, want and victory. It made your pussy ache. He watched your chest rise and fall, the flush that crept up your chest and neck giving away how needy you were for him.

“Take this off.” He pulled at the strings of your top while you untied the bottom and dispatched it across the room.

He wanted everything all at once. “Hands and knees for me, angel. Come on.” He urged you and helped you position how he wanted you, legs spread wide and back arched in lewd presentation. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He held you steady with both hands firm on the globes of your ass as he leaned down and licked a broad stripe from your clit to your entrance, taking his time to taste you before retracing his path, firmer this time, pushing his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit to stroke it softly. Pulling his mouth away, Joel watched himself use his thumb to spread your wetness all around, loving how you wriggled and sighed. “You’re a mess. So wet. Look at that.” He sealed his lips around you once more and sucked firmly on your clit, making you cry his name while your thighs quaked in an all consuming orgasm.

You sank into the soft bedding and caught your breath as he rubbed up and down your thighs. “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He asked, almost surprised. “Yeah. Ok, baby. Anything you want.”

He stroked himself and notched at your entrance, pushing inside slowly so you could adjust to his size. You whined at the stretch and groaned when he was fully seated, Joel stilled there, letting you feel his weight, his heavy cock, and kissed your jaw. “I don’t think I can let him have you back.” He didn’t give you time to absorb what he was saying, he pulled back slowly, then thrust forward a little faster, angling his hips to grind his pubic bone against your clit while letting him watch himself fuck you. His filthy narration had you on the edge.

“I love how you take me. Squeeze my cock so fucking tight.” He moaned into your shoulder, a deep, rough sound, he had to stop himself from sucking dark purple marks into your neck. “Look so pretty on this big cock. Gonna come for me one more time?” Joel kept his pace and babbled to you, letting one hand wander to your tits to brush over your sensitive nipples, or down to grab your ass and pull you tight against him. “Won’t last much longer, baby I’m sorry. Where do you want me?”

You really wanted him to come inside you. Wanted to feel it again, wanted a filthy souvenir dripping from you later while you were laying in bed with Tommy. But you weren’t ready for that conversation, so you said simply “not inside.”

Joel nodded, understanding that he couldn’t make the decision for you, so he just hitched his left leg under your hip for better leverage and drilled into you hard and fast. The angle let him hit just perfectly over that spot inside that made you see god. Your orgasm hit hard and it was all Joel could do to pull out and rut against your mound, smearing cum between your naked bodies.

Rolling off of you, Joel went to fetch a towel. He let you use it first, but you swiped a finger through his spend and brought it to your mouth, tasting him at last. There may as well have been stars in Joel’s eyes as he watched.

It was still early, 2:30 when you got into the shower and Joel went out to bring back lunch. Alone again under the hot spray, you thought. You thought about Tommy, about the perfectly adequate life you had together for the last eight months. He was good, he took you out, he was a generous lover, he has friendly and optimistic and he was so, so into you. And you liked that. But he was also immature, drinking a lot, getting into fights, losing jobs until Joel let him come to work at his small company. You wanted to bend time, make it so you met Joel first.

When you got out of the shower it was a bit of deja vu. Younfreshly showered, Joel waiting to feed you. This time it was a sack from Five Guys, and a big cup of sweet tea. Exactly what you needed. You and Joel talked while you ate, avoiding the obvious topic, and instead talked about movies you liked, books you had read, music you listened to, Joel told you about things he was doing to his house, a fixer-upper he had bought recently. “Maybe when we can get back you can come over and see. Give me some paint colors that would look good. ‘M not good at that part. Needs a woman’s touch I guess.” You dug a few fries from

The bottom of the bag and drifted away for a second to a reality where you and Joel could live together and be together and everything worked out for the best. Then you just nodded. “I’d love that.”

After Joel showered you only had about an hour until Tommy was expected back. You made the most of it, naked under the covers in Joel’s bed, legs entwined, mouths melded together while he made you come again on his long, thick fingers. “We don’t have to tell him anything, sweetheart. This can be whatever you want. I don’t want to make all this hard for ya. I won’t say anything to him if y’dont want me to. And if y’do I’ll handle him. Been handling him his whole life.” Joel looked pretty like this, naked and warm in the white hotel sheets with his tan skin and freckled shoulders, his big dark eyes, his pretty sloping nose and his untamable curly hair. “I want you, Joel.” Your voice was soft and light, he almost wasn’t sure he heard you. “Tell me again. Slowly.” You said it louder, you said it again, you said it as you kissed him. Joel beamed as he hugged you right to his chest and kissed you once more, pouring all of his unspoken feelings into you the best he could.

You’d just barely gotten buttoned back into a pair of shorts and tank top when Tommy came into the room. You went to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smelled like sun and sweat and dust. He pulled you up to him in a deep kiss that trailed down your neck, and cupped your ass with one hand. “Missed you today, baby.” “Missed you too, Tommy.” You nuzzled into his neck as you spoke, since again letting your imagination shape shift him into his brother. His brother who was out on the balcony, with your scent still on him. “Where’s Joel? What did you do with him today?” It was an innocent question, but you felt guilty as you quickly glanced around the room, afraid that there would be some glaring sign that would tell him you spend the day fucking his brother. Of course there wasn’t, but Tommy noticed the way you tensed and shifted his weight to one foot, cocking his head to the side. “Something wrong?”

“No, just uh, just hungry.” You lied.

Tommy studied your face in silence before kissing the top of your head. “Go get changed and we’ll go get some dinner. You nodded, relieved to have any suspicion out of Tommy’s mind for now. You weren’t even sure if he would be mad. He had enjoyed seeing you with Joel last night, so maybe you should just be honest about fucking him today. You rolled the idea around in your head as you put on your dress, and Tommy picked up the damp piece of purple fabric from the floor at the end of Joel’s bed.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #bat writes #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #Joel miller x you x Tommy miller #smut

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anemoiashifts · 2 days

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mental health check-in for reality shifting.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

as we all know, reality shifting is generally neural thing but tends to be glorified & romanized by a select few due to people wanting to have a better situation or a more desirable life.

that in itself is totally fine but this post is created with the intent to make sure the community has a healthy relationship with shifting & if not possible solutions.

if mental health is left unchecked it can lead to destructive behaviors & can worsen preexisting mental health concerns. for me personally, that’s not what shifting is about. you can learn about yourself & grow without even shifting. the expansion of your perspective & becoming more empathetic to yourself is something i believe is extremely important.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ how often do you think about shifting ?

while it’s fun to daydream & think about your desired reality — does it consume your life or take away from other tasks that need to get done in this reality? if you’re somebody who has maladaptive daydreaming disorder (like myself!) it can exacerbate the fantasy-like aspect of thinking about shifting.

if you’re someone whose mind wanders a lot do something productive. this could be finishing some homework that you’ve been putting off for a long time or rearranging your bedroom. stuff like partaking in hobbies while listening to youtube videos in the background may help too.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ why are you shifting ?

is it because you’re searching for something bigger ? maybe you’re looking for friends ? while you probably aren’t going to be able to meet your favorite characters here, you can meet lots of other people & make new connections at anytime. if it’s in person or even if it’s in an online space , i bet there are lots of people in this comment section or any shifting video who would love to be your friend.

defining why you want to shift can do wonders for uncovering more about yourself. 90% of the things people want to shift for are & can be found here & you’re more then worthy of them. just because you want something like love or a sense of belonging doesn’t mean you have to travel the multiverse for it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ “i want to k!ll myself because i can’t shift.”

while i understand frustration, extremes that result in life altering & ending choices are never good and quite frankly, frightening for a creator to see in their comment sections. most sv!c!des are committed on impulse. we go through so many emotions on the daily & process so much information a day. taking a moment alone to think & break down thought process & long term effects your actions will have is a nice way to come back down to earth.

meditation is also a great tool to calm down. you can even use shifting guided meditations without the actual intention to shift. breath work has also been helpful to me.

i understand these suggestions aren’t long term fixes but if you’re someone who has echoed these words & truly meant it then i cannot recommend therapy & possible taking a break from shifting even more to focus on yourself right here where you are. this may not be the answer you’d like to hear but it’s the one that is possibly needed.

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♡ timing.

there is no specific time frame that you have to shift. both children & adults do hold the capability to shift. if someone tells you, you can’t shift because ___ or that you’ll age out of something its simply not true. things take time & it’s okay if your journey doesn’t look like everyone else’s. there’s no need to stress yourself out. try to enjoy the journey as well as being excited for the outcome. essentially, a large part of the shifting journey is meditation & affirmations which are both beneficial to your mental & physical self. try to sprinkle in some self love affirmations or general positive thoughts too. even if you need to take a step away from shifting & pick it up at a later date, i encourage you to do so if it’s stressing you out or you’re only focusing on shifting or neglecting your life / responsibilities here.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ shadow & trauma work.

answering questions that are meant to make you think & deeply reflect are tools that hi light some issues you may not even realize you’ve had. i have a tumblr post here with some, but for tiktok, ill list some on the next side. these ones are specifically for shifting but i encourage you to venture out to discover some more personal ones to expand upon your answers to these.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

i should also mention, i’m not a therapist so take what i say as non-professional advice & mere suggestions & a starting point to truly expand what shifting has done for you, negatively & positivity. im a huge advocate for therapy & if you feel comfortable enough expand upon these conversations in sessions if you feel comfortable.

i understand my audience is varied in age but i do notice a lot of you are younger then myself. it’s hurts to see people who are so young stress themselves out this much over trying to shift. i really do care about you & want to see all of you happy — with or without shifting.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

#reality shifting #desired reality #shifting #shiftblr #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter

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cloudyskiiees · 2 days

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ok i cant control myself here’s me infodumping about my stardew valley x tdi fic idea:

-first few chapters are all noah’s perspective. he lives in a small run down town called stardew valley, working at the library with their shitty museum attached. he has a couple old books of his on display, but nothing more. rumors of a new farmer coming to town arise, he doesn’t think much of it.

-until he sees the farmer after he’s moved there. he’s pretty, sure, but he’s… weird.

-the farmer waits around like he knows where people are gonna be at a certain time. he’s scarily good at collecting new gems and minerals for the museum, he’s even better at fighting in the mines, where most people don’t dare to go.

-he knows what everyone likes without even asking.

-this all gets annoying because noah hasn’t learned anything about the farmer, other than his name. alejandro.

-he can’t shake the feeling something is wrong with the new farmer.

-so he starts being a bit meaner. refusing gifts he loves, even if it almost seems to pain him to do so. he’s gotten to the point he can outright refuse to let alejandro donate to the museum! it brings him satisfaction to see the looked on the farmers face, but he can’t deny something inside him feels horribly wrong whenever he… acts out.

-eventually we get an alejandro pov. and the entirety of “stardew valley” is a video game. none of the characters we’ve been following or learning about are real, not even the farmer noah knows. he’s simply a made up character.

-alejandro is pissseddd because something is wrong with his newest save! he had made a brand new one to attempt and speed run it, having the summer off from college and finally being miles and miles away from his family breathing down his neck.

-so what is this characters deal all the sudden?

-the new dialogue noah says, he can’t find it anywhere online. he didn’t know characters could refuse gifts they loved, or even in general!

-when the librarian refuses to let him donate his recent finds to the museum, he makes it his mission to figure out how this is happening.

-he gets his local tech “friend” Sierra to take a look and observe the game, hoping she can figure out what’s wrong. he doesn’t exactly like the girl but…. she’s really smart when it comes to certain things. especially her favorite video game.

-noah continues to question the other townsfolk, but starts realizing that… they all kind of act the same. have the same responses. routines.

-he realizes he does too.

-izzy is the only other self aware character inside of the game, noah nearly strangled her when she told him she’s known for a long time.

rest of the story is sierra and alejandro realizing the characters are becoming self aware, and being like WTFFFF especially since they all start having distinct reactions and dialogues once sierra takes over alejandro’s farmer for a bit, seeing as they act very different.

this story would likely not have a super happy ending since ya know, most of the characters aren’t real. but i love fucking around with grey idea things like knowing ur trapped inside a game forever, but also loving the people and life you have in there! as well as ofc the eventual angst involved once feelings become a thing noah has for alejandro, seeing as he knows he’s real, and the farmer he plays as will never actually be him.

#total drama #alenoah #tdi alenoah #tdi fanfic #total drama island #this is definitely angstier than i anticipated #is there anyway for it to like end happily????#idk but i like the concept!#it can definitely be messed with too but these are my first thoughts LOLOL

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thelakesuite · 2 days

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The Rusty Lake Story in Bitchass Baby Terms

this is ALL off the top of my head (and i haven't experienced like 10% of it maybe?) so i might be wrong but i don't care right now

the lake itself isn't, like, that well established 'cause it's a mystery game or something so we don't need full exposition. it's some deity-like thing as old as the mammoths (not canon) that eats time. or rather memories that are stored in lil cubes. and it gives its zookeepers immortality so they can keep feeding it. they call themselves the Rulers of the Lake but we all know the truth. 'immortality', or rather enlightenment, is represented by you becoming your fursona and living maybe an extra century. mr. owl's looking for a new heir pretty quick in the process but we'll get to that.

corrupted souls are kinda a byproduct of all this. truly the lake's farts. when a person dies horribly, when their memories get extracted wrong, or when the plot demands it, they become corrupted. corrupted souls still talk, and some of them are even sensible (like your mom oooooh), but generally they're jumpscare beasts or wet little puppies. sometimes both. yes you can get corrupted when you're enlightened, and right now it's the more likely outcome actually. there's a whole 'elixir of immortality' that gets harped on, where one drinker gets corrupted and the other gets enlightened, but that is literally only a thing for roots and a little bit of cave so don't worry about it too much. unless you're making dramatic fanart in which case leverage that shit.

cubes come up a lot in cube escape, believe it or not! black ones are bad memories, white ones are good memories, blue ones are connected to the past in a way that's somehow not a memory, gold ones are connected to the future, red ones only exist in my fangame that ellesian recently unearthed, and green ones are jello yum. also suck it anyone who told me pre-tpw the gold cube thing was unestablished. anyway. it was a big thing mr.'s owl and crow were working on, creating a golden cube (presumably to extend their own lives) as seen in cave, but then one just kinda appears in the past within when albert does electric jujitsu. jury is still out on that.

onto the actual narrative i think.

in paradise, you're mr. owl pre-owling (1790-something). the lake's current suckass servants are your family who tried to sacrifice you to it way back, but your mom took your place for mom reasons. now mom's corrupted and guiding you to... well, to get sacrificed for real this time. but with your powers combined (yes mr. owl was two people, no it is never addressed) you get enlightened and tell your family to fuck off 'cause you're building a hotel on that island now. you also get a tease in the secret ending that dale and laura will do a similar fusion dance to be the lake's next suckass. we've been waiting 6 years for that to happen.

in roots, two alchemist brothers get that elixir shit going (1860-1935). one of them becomes mr. crow, while the other becomes a playable character for a game. and corrupted. you rope your whole bloodline into this, harvesting their body parts (usually after they die from other means, but you totally caused most of their deaths) for a reincarnation ritual involving a magic seed (that also only exists for this game). this is where the best characters come from because rusty lake actually wanted to tell a story with this game. you reincarnate into a woman! don't think about the implications.

in samsara room, the inside scoop of reincarnation is fuckin' weird, dude (1935). the original was made before rusty lake began, so it's not truly part of the narrative, but it got folded in for the fifth anniversary.

in hotel, you do not get the backstory of the third bird man (1890ish). instead, you get to kill mr. owl's family again, but one-on-one as animal people. how did they become animal people? fuck you that's how! mr. owl probably did it on purpose to spite them with shit sandwiches and bullets to the brain. oh, also, there might be an evil twin of mr. rabbit that shows up later.

in arles, you're vincent van gogh. that's it. he's not relevant. but it is funny seing the death date of paul gauguin in the timeline docs.

we're talking about the past within later but the 'past' segment takes place around here. 1926 iirc?

in birthday, your parents get shot (1939). you're going to be an important detective, dale, but like right now you're getting traumatized. or rather you're experiencing that memory, then doing blue cube magic to fix it and have your grandpa shoot evil mr. rabbit instead. is your grandpa actually mr. crow? no. shut up about it now.

in underground blossom, your mom gets abducted (1935-1972 maybe). okay, well, not you. this is the laura backstory metaphor game but you're actually playing as the third bird man who is both her stepdad and her pet. and her grandpa albert takes her mom rose for his own nefarious reincarnation schemes maybe probably. rose is surprisingly okay with it but characters rarely put up a fight with the plot anyway. laura's a lonely kid, starts dating robert, picks up art to soothe her nightmares, gets murked, then reaches some kind of epiphany that we just train ride away from before finding out what actually happens. she's your daughter, damnit, you should support her transcendence. not enlightenment importantly. also, no, laura's life didn't literally happen at train stops, it's just a vehicle. not even a pun don't fucking laugh i see you snickering.

in seasons, you set up a really interesting plotline that gets utterly countered by everything that came after (1960's-80's). it's just laura time in there, and she uncorrupts herself, thank you very much. the series has been struggling with how laura gets her corrupted self to 1980-whatever, and so far only one other game's even taken place after 1972. and that game's the past within which also counters every other plotline. sigh. maybe we're not smart enough for these puzzle games. at least harvey's cute and bird-shaped. key point that's impossible to fuck up is that laura dies in 1972, and it's unclear whether it was a murder or suicide. that's why we get a detective.

in harvey's box and the lake, uh i don't know really (1969). these are early games that are basically spinoffs of seasons. they help with the overarching stuff but aren't much for the narrative at this point. also they suck

in case 23, dale starts investigating laura's death and gets wrapped up in the lake stuff (1972). it was supposed to be just another murder case, but he got too into it and it got too into him, so he gets teleported to the lake chapel and ferried off to. somewhere idk. he goes into an elevator that takes him down memory lane to the lake floor.

in the mill, mr. crow is really trying to clean house before dale gets here (1972). this is where laura gets her ass corrupted by mr. crow, and we find out how the lake eats memories or whatever. it's supposed to overlap with case 23 and it almost succeeds. whatever skrunk is still there is forgiveable, this was the flash era after all.

in theatre, dale learns about ripoff hinduism, goads a man into suicide, and abandons his darling toilet fetus son (1971). it's like birthday again, where this is a memory we're seeing, but that is a light distinction. robert kills himself at the bar, and we take his memories for legal reasons. there's some sixfold wheel we learn about that doesn't matter much.

in the cave, mr. crow still cleans house before dale gets to the Magic Memory Machine (1972). mr. owl's kinda sorta dying, and dale's been elected his son or something. gotta get his mindmeats. you read a textbook about cubes, pilot a submarine to the lakefloor, put dale and laura in a surrogate fusion dance machine, then give dale the golden cube it makes before sending him up the elevator again. hotel did imply something serious was gonna happen when he gets to the top, but that was eight years ago. the devs probably forgot and fell too in love with albert vanderboom in the meantime.

in the white door, robert unkills himself and gets wrong psychiatry (1972). as it turns out, mr. owl has a front business running a for-profit psych ward to extract totally good and healthy memories from people. this one is an actual factual spinoff but is kinda relevant for the greater rusty lake metropolitan area.

in paradox, fuuuuuuuck who knows maaaan, isn't it all just a metaphor? (1972). there's a consensus that none of the stuff that happens in paradox actually happens, and that it's all in dale's head while he's in the Magic Memory Machine from cave. even though there's five different endings, he kinda walks away at the end, which might be the worst ending of the lot. the information's solid though; mr. owl spells out the whole heir thing, there's bits of backstory for dale and laura everywhere. also the movie's sick.

in the past within, albert becomes a mechanical engineer for the sole purpose of making plot armor (1926/1984). yeah, remember that guy from roots? the voodoo murderer who got third-hand alchemy information to make up for his lack of pussy? yeah, he invented a time machine decades ago. and he enlisted his daughter to talk to her past/future self to grow him back to life in 1984. with a gold cube that he somehow got. and somehow his scar is genetically coded in him. and we don't see his wiggly lineart dick. what does he do in 1984? trap his daughter in a time loop then who the fuck knows. he's stuck in his jumpscare beast ways from being corrupted for so long. how did he get corrupted when he was literally buried in the ground and salvaged bones from? next game!

there's an ARG that i never saw a thing of because i hated it, best kept memory. from what i gathered, it was another front scheme for memory harvesting, except in the 2000's. does that mean it's enlightened dale/laura doing this one, since mr. owl presumably passed on the title then turned into a fish? i'd like to know too!

also, a chapter of underground blossom i haven't completed, and a paper-based game coming out within the next two years or whatever. i don't know how much they'll clear up.

toodles!

#rusty lake #basically the cube escape era set up this 1972 arc without actually concluding it #and each of the steam titles have been more distinct stories while still playing to the overall plotline #kinda like spinoffs of spinoffs #a lot of us old folk are bitter that we still haven't resolved 1972 and there isn't much focus with the recent games #like they do just enough building on each other to make it irritating they aren't doing more. especially compared to the cube escapes

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helenstudies · 1 day

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I've seen a lot of "gifted kid burnout" posts and also a few "where do we go to post studyblr stuff when we're bad students and don't get good grades" so I'm here to talk about my own experience of "I've never been a gifted kid and I've never been a good student".

I'm not a gifted kid. In fact, there was no "gifted kid" system in my country at all. And instead of multiple choice questions or true or false questions, we had to memorize pages and pages of our textbook and write them down during three hour exams. You can't get "a" and "the" wrong or you lose points, that's how much memorization we had to do. We didn't get electives until our last two years of high school and the electives were "biology or economics?" Yeah, those were the only two. Even at my university, I didn't get to choose my own electives. Everything came in a neat little box that you can never escape. And we never, EVER get full marks in Burmese or English. 80 out of 100 is considered phenomenal and no one's ever gotten more than 82 in either subject. So our matriculation exam's full mark is 600 but the most you can get is 550.

Suffice to say, the education system sucked and I don't like memorization so my grades were 50% at most. I failed my math and physic classes with 28 marks out of 100 for a whole two years, only barely passing on midterms and end of year exams. For my matriculation exam I got 340 out of 600, which is SUBPAR. That's 2.0 GPA btw. I never thought of myself as educated or a good student and I still don't.

But I love languages and I realize that while languages seem hard to learn and have strict rules, they actually don't. You can move them around and learn them however you like. So as an avid reader, I started learning languages so that I will be able to read books in those languages and I found studying liberating. Why not? I'm no longer memorizing 600 pages of text book and writing them down.

I realize that I love learning and studying when I get to choose what I learn. So I stopped caring about grades and started learning things that I love. Hey, do you know what's the biggest side effect of learning things that you love and not caring about grades? It's that you actually start to learn and your grades start to come up. I realize I perform badly when I am stressing out about my grades. This is why you're seeing all my 100% grade and 80% grade all over my walls. It's not because I'm a good student. It's because I've let go of the notion that I HAVE to be a good student.

I can talk about my bad grades as freely as I can talk about my good grades. I can tell you that I've been learning Japanese for ten seven years and I'm only JLPT N3 level. Honestly, you know what? As a generation, we're due to appreciate our process and progress instead of our achievements. It's fine if you're a bad student. It's fine if you are a gifted kid who fell off the wagon. It's fine if you've never been a gifted kid or a bad student. What matters is you're here studying and learning and appreciating yourself for doing all that.

So post your good grades, post your bad grades. Post your good stuff and bad stuff and messy notes. Post about your good days and your bad days. Talk about your productive days and talk about your rest days. Keep going and keep learning!

#studyblr #langblr #spanish #100 days of productivity #chinese language #japanese language #chinese studyblr #chinese langblr #japanese studyblr #korean language #korean studyblr

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daenerysstormreborn · 1 day

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Actually I’m making a separate post about this. Before you read, please understand that when I use the words “feminine” and “femininity” I am exclusively talking about the patriarchal stereotypes, aesthetics, gender roles, and other expectations ascribed to the female sex in a given culture. I do not mean “the intrinsic aspect of being female/a girl/a woman/however you wanna phrase it.” The concept of femininity is a construct. It’s a set of traits and roles and expectations and aesthetics that anyone can have. So when I say that some female characters are more or less feminine, I am not commenting on identity, I am commenting on presence or absence of traits ascribed to girls and women and conformity to sexist expectations. I am making this distinction because in the past it has been assumed that when I said that a girl was less feminine, I was saying she was less of a girl, which isn’t at all what I was saying. Anyway.

I have a knee-jerk reaction to the idea that the only reason Arya didn’t like “ladylike” activities is that she had bad experiences with them with Sansa, the septa, and her mother. Like the one exception to this is that I love the idea that she’d be good at embroidery if she was able to use her left hand. But otherwise I think it risks treading into gender essentialism. Like “the only reason a girl wouldn’t like and be good at “feminine” things is if she had bad experiences.” I know that’s not what most people mean to imply but I dunno I just think it would be really boring if it was like oh turns out Arya loved dresses all along like it gives Allison getting a makeover in Breakfast Club.

Like oh the girl who was insecure about not quite conforming? Well turns out that the answer to her insecurity is to conform! She just needed people to be nicer to her so she could become a feminine girl just like everyone else! No. There’s no power in that. The answer should be that social acceptance allows her to embrace who she is and have confidence in that! I want Arya to wear pants that allow her to run and play with children and a long cloak she’s embroidered with wildflowers. I feel like people generally understand that it’s sexist to have the resolution to the “I’m insecure because I’m not as feminine as other girls and have been mistreated for it” be “now that people have been kind to me I have become as feminine as other girls.” Like Chie in Persona 3.

It undermines the criticism of the people who were doing said mistreatment. Like “You were right to be insecure! The answer is to change yourself! People bullying you for being different? Never fear! If you simply experience true kindness and acceptance, you can stop being different! No more insecurity because you can be just like everyone wants you to be and society itself doesn’t have to change!” There’s this dissonance in some fans where they can recognize that the way Arya was judged was wrong, but they still want Arya to end up being traditionally “ladylike.” And for me it’s just like. Why. That’s so boring. I don’t hate it as much as Arya growing up to be a ruthless killer but it seems like a betrayal of themes. My ideal end for Arya is that she’s home, she’s loved, she gets to be who she is. She has a family. She’s beloved by all the children in the Winterfell, not just her own. She teaches them about the wildlife and gives water dancing lessons to girls AND boys who want to learn. She braids her hair against her head to keep it out of the way and decorates the braids with flowers. It’s a very “happily ever after” sort of ending of course and not exactly what I think WILL happen (I do not have any idea what her endgame will be, to be clear, I’m just clarifying that I’m not theorizing I’m just imagining the best happiest ending for her I can think of that fits her character).

I just think that Arya doesn’t need to actually like dresses and be good at all the “feminine” activities and hobbies in order for her to be a beloved Lady, and it feels like that’s the undercurrent to the notion that Arya only dislikes traditionally “ladylike” pursuits as a result of trauma

#valyrian scrolls #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #arya stark #if you disagree I’d love to hear your thoughts

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jocelynscrazyideas · 3 days

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Champagne problems | Dawson Mercer x Fem Reader

Summary: Dawson and Harper(you) get in a heated argument, but you have a past in being left alone. Dawson makes it up to by dancing in the kitchen at night, and it ends up leading to something else.

Warnings: makeup s*x, unprotected, crying, language, not proof read

PLS NOTE: I don’t think Dawson Mercer would ever LIKE EVER make someone feel this way (and idk why he would get angry abt this but he did so yuhh)

I got kinda lazy towards the end- sorry in advance🫶

You book the night train for a reason

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HARPER!” Dawson yells out from our room. I hear his Newfie accent pop out. I think it’s so cute. Then. I hear pound stomps from upstairs in our home. He comes running down the stairs. He turns to face me as he scurries over at me.

Dawson throws my phone that was once in my hand and now is on the other side of the white couch, which I was comfortable sitting on. He never screams at me. I’m scared.

I’m scared.

I run for our dog, Mila. I grab our black lab and pick her up. Mila holds onto me as I run up the stairs with her. I don’t care about my phone, I need to lock myself away. I don’t even know what I did. But I’m is I’m terrified.

I dropped your hand while dancing

I run into the bathroom without a word said. I hear soft foot steps walking towards the bathroom. It’s not just a bathroom, it’s the place where we would take baths together, or when I get to drunk and he would hold my hair back when I throw up, or when he would get sick and I would shower with him.

This isn’t a home, not right now atelast. It’s a madhouse.

I’m not ready. It’s been a strong 2 years together, we have never been through a big fight where I felt I was threatened. I’m so scared I hold on to Mila, I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“please, Harper, open up. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. But I’m upset, you pulled out like $200 out if the shared account.” Dawson has a good point to be mad at me. But he has to understand that it’s for bills. I just bought the house, it’s under my name.

“I’m sorry.” I say, and there I go. A tear is shed. Not only one, but it turns into many. I’m now bawling my eyes out. He bangs on the door. I know he’ll get mad if I don’t open the door, but I’m not ready to see him, because I truly feel guilty, but I cannot pay for the bills and in general everything on my own.

“I’m not mad anymore, I’m going to be upset if you don’t open the door baby. Are you hungry?” Dawson says in absolute despair.

My stomach dropped about 12 minutes ago, and I still can’t seem to grab it and put it back in place, my heart is doing somersaults- in a terrible way, not in a lovestruck way, more of a numbing pain. My head is pounding. I hear birds chriping through the bathroom window. I unlock the door taht im sitting against. I let Mila walk out, and I grab air. Then I walk into our bedroom. I open windows.

Love slipped beyond your reaches

And I couldn’t give a reason

Champagne problems.

I change into Dawson’s boxers, they have SpongeBob patterns on them, I picked it out. I throw on my sleep shirt. I tie my hair into a messy high bun, I let my neck hit the cold outside breeze. It’s offseason, Dawson and I are getting ready to travel back to his family’s home in a week. Right now, I’m not sure if I wnat to go.

I hear sizzling from the kitchen downstairs. And the smell of cheese, and toast. Is it Grilled cheese?

“BUBBA?!” Dawson yells out for me.

He walks up the steps with a green plate, and he steps into our room, he sees me against our bedroom wall that faces the entrance of the room. The window is above me, he come towards me. Grabs the grilled cheese and splits it.

“Did you know you look gorgeous.” Dawson says, not in a question format, but more of a statement. He opens my mouth and wipes the tear that had fell from my eye. He sticks the grilled cheese into my mouth and he looks at me, and smiles. I see his toothless corny smile. I love him.

“Come here. Baby I didn’t mean to get at you like that.” He says as he grips onto his blue t-shirt and wipes my mascara away.

“it’s my fault.” I say. I don’t want him to leave me.

We finish eating as he explains how it’s okay to take out money,but he should be able to pay, not that I should sneak the payment. He grabs my hand and he takes the plate that he placed the delicious grilled cheese on and placed it into the clean sink. He turns me around and he’s sits me on the cold counter.

“You look sexy.” He says and again, I hear his newfie accent pop out. I’m head over heels for him.

“In SpongeBob boxers?” I say sarcastically and I laugh away my sadness.

“Yes. Anything that you’re in, makes you extra sexy. And..” he says as he trails off as he nibbles at my neck. He kissed my index finger and trailed up to my left ear. I can feel his stubble.

He pushed up against me, and he kissed me. He then picked me up from the counter and twirled me down to the floor. And he continued to French kiss me. He tugs at my waist as he he tucks his head onto my neck. He’s 6”0 body leans into my 5”2 figure.

“I love you.” He whispers into my ear as he sucks into me, I’m sure there is a big bruise awaiting to be seen by his fellow teammates at holding tomorrow. Dawson is missing a tooth, but he’s still really good at giving hickeys. He starts to sway. Ironically, he starts to humthe words of champagne problems. He’s such a girl dad- not yet.

We dance in the kitchen for like an hour as we just talk. The beautiful daylight blue sky turned into a black sky lit by stars. He grabs me and sits me down on the couch that we met at earlier today.

Mila has her own bed in our bedroom, but for today she sat in her own room that she has in the main level right next to the kitchen. Dawson locks Mila in her bedroom and he sets her asleep with her night time water. He grabs me and carry’s me up the stairs. It’s like we are re-living our day.

He pushed me down the bed. He has one hand on my mid torso. And he slides his hand up, up toward my cleavage. He takes a hold of his SpongeBob boxers and slides them off. He smoothly takes my shirt off. He apply little pressure on my shoulders, an my bra is off my chest. He looks at my breast like it’s the first pair he’s ever seen. His face lits up in an eager smile. And once again I see his toothless expression. He takes my nipple into his fingers and twist them.

My breast is really tender from crying earlier today so I let out a little wince. Dawson looks down at me ready to study every little mark I have on me. He takes his shirt off. In a swft motion his shorts are also off. I see his face black boxers, but it’s accompanied by a large tent in the middle of his legs. He’s getting off by me in pain. Wierd kink.

“Daws.” I say, I’m letting him know I’m ready to take him. Dawson holds my hands up above my head and he opens his boxers, I can’t stop thinking off how that’s where he opens his pants to pee, but I take him in my mouth and he’s steady leaking everywhere.

I lick the tip of him and he screams in excitement.

He’s so easy.

He lets out a sigh as he finished inside my mouth, not letting me do any work.

“Okay pillow princess, show me how it’s done.” Dawson says as he flips me on top of him and we roll over to the other side of the bed. He lays down and he pulls off his boxers. He’s bare, I’m bare. I touch myself as I stand on top of him. I look down at him as I decide to squat down. I look at his face, he’s ready to be please, but I just took him inside of my mouth. I swalllow, but I forget… can he?

So I take his jaw in my hand and I tell him to open his mouth, he does so. He is expecting a kiss. But for me, I wnat to make him cum first. So I straddle his face, and I take his hard friend, into my mouth, once again.

Im laying on top off him, he has my clit on his mouth, and I have his dick into my throat. He’s tasty, very salty. He locks me out, and I feel like I need to piss everywhere. So I focus on my job. I need to make him cum. He goes faster on his tounge, he lifts his hips up to my face, he’s about to fall out of his momentum. He thrusts into my throat. And again, and again, he thrusts. He lets out a groan, and he starts to stick his large fingers into my hole. He sucks and fingers at my bottom half.

He’s going to play dirty, so am I. So I grab his large balls and start to rub. He starts to slap my ass, and he runs up and down my waist line. I grab his leg, and he thrusts into my mouth again, he lets out an exasperated groan, he drops his bridge down, and he slides me over.

He arrived, and I haven’t. Maybe I am better.

“No, I know what you’re thinking, you aren’t better than I am.” Dawson says as he walks over to grab a condom.

“No, I like it raw.” I say as I get up from feeling like peeing.

“Easier on me then.” Dawson says as he lifts me up and I wrap around his figure. My boobs are pressed up against his abs, my nipples are sticking straight into him. He lays me down gently as he sticks a finger inside of me. He licks his finger clean.

“You’re still pretty wet for me.” He says, “but I haven’t cummed yet.” I said, impatiently.

I push his anatomy onto me. His cock is pushed up against his abdomen. He kisses me and he did infancy swallow.

He leans back up from our special kiss, and he licks his hand, and pump onto his cock once. He grasps onto my thigh, he spreads my legs apart.

“DAWSON!” I scream out in enjoyment. I’m exhilarated. His shaft ponds into my hips. My pelvis is now perked up into his hands. I need more, but I cannot fit much more. He has so many inches inside of me,I feel like I might puncture ny uterus.

“He shushed me and started to bounce. He thrusted about 4 times before I begged him to stop. And I cimmed right there. He grabbed a tissue that sat on our nightstands, specifically for this reason.

“Okay baby. You wanna shower, or do you want to wait until tomorrow morning?” Dawson says and he always knows the answer. He made sure I wa clean and the bed sheets weren’t wet and sticky for our semen.

He wraps his legs around me, I’m little spoon, and he’s big spoon. We are skin to skin. And I feel safe in his arms as he kissed me goodnight. And I feel ready to see his family on our trip next week. And I’m glad that his friends will see my “burn mark” I got. Which we all know that Dawson took his kisses to strong and he bit and sucked on my neck to leave territory marks.

#hockey #jocelynscrazyideas #nhl #dawson mercer #hockey fics #njd #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl players #nhl fic #smut

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another-lost-mc · 1 day

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is it bad that as much as i like your ocs (theyre amazing, i love them!), i really miss seeing you write for the canon characters

You know, that’s valid. The proportion of Canon and OC content here lately has been way off. It’s sort of the elephant in the room I ignore every time I think about Obey Me and my inspiration automatically focuses on the world building or OC potential instead.

There’s a few reasons why I’ve been less interested in writing canon lately.

1. Disappointment with Nightbringer. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure why this game exists (except to overhaul the franchise’s monetization structure). The premise and lore payoff hasn’t been that great for me personally - it feels more like an AU rather than a canon addition/continuation of the OG game. It feels like we still end up with more loose ends and questions that we don’t have (and may never get) answers for. I’m still waiting for Raphael and Mephisto to be dateable, by the way. As a result, my focus when writing OM content has been using the OG story/characterization using the odd piece from NB that makes sense, and that leads into…

2. My favourite parts of Obey Me are under-developed in canon. I enjoy most of the canon cast, I really do. But I want more Celestial Realm lore, I want more Michael (and not NB HM Lesson 20 Michael), I want more angels in general. They’ve mentioned Uriel a couple times now, give me that angel please and thank you! (No longer relevant, I wrote a version of him myself.)

The world feels so empty at times but there’s so much potential. Parts of the Devildom are more fleshed out with NB adding to it, but what about the other realms? What’s going on with the Sorcerer’s Society and the reapers? I never know if the interesting hints of lore we get are truly relevant or if it’s just something the game decided was convenient for a plot point and never gets mentioned again. NB has been great for Solomon fans since it’s practically a Solomon x MC fanfic written with a forced roommates trope, and that might be the best thing about it from a lore perspective.

My OCs were originally meant to explore gaps in the world and give the canon characters room to grow beyond the one or two defining traits the game keeps repeating over and over. I like writing Mammon when I can have him interact with Karasu, I like imagining the types of angels other exchange students might meet in the Celestial Realm, I like giving a name and personality to the mysterious owner of The Fall where so many events and Devilgram stories take place. Admittedly, it was refreshing to see that other people enjoyed reading about them or imagining them paired with their own MCs/OCs too. I call them the OC Fan Club with genuine affection.

3. It’s not something I talk about often but before I began writing fanfiction, I was mostly focused on concepts or outlines for original stories. Writing supernatural and horror themes always been my interest as a writer so anything with demons/angels/other monstrous races automatically catches my eye.

It’s a little mean to say, but half-baked worlds like the Devildom are a lot of fun to use as a foundation for expanding my own ideas. The OC story I’ve been working on is one way for me to write longer and more complex pieces which is the type I like most. Granted, it includes nearly the entire game cast and it explores the Devildom and Celestial Realm in ways that tie together some of my favourite personal headcanons and characterization. It focuses on angel characters and the history/culture of the Celestial Realm which are two of my main interests for this game. It’s a huge project - the outline is nearly 20k words on its own, it’s practically a novel divided into four sections with 30+ chapters and an epilogue. I can’t even express how excited I am when I get to work on this.

That being said, I do like writing canon content and I’ve been missing it more lately. I got burnt out when it felt like I was losing interest in NB and was pushing myself to keep writing anyway which isn’t great.

Today someone left a nice comment on something I wrote a while back, an angst piece for the demon brothers. I haven’t read it in a while and after going back and re-reading it, I was like, “Huh, I don’t remember liking this as much as I do.” And then I remembered something in my drafts that’s been rotting away, half-edited and ignored, and realized that I wanted to finish it. So, I’ve been slowly tinkering with things while I work on my angels’ story. Some of my plans are ambitious and real life distractions (mostly health related, like my recent bout of COVID) haven’t helped.

If I learned anything about my writing since starting this blog, it’s that:

writing what you’re passionate about is more fulfilling than writing what seems trendy or popular

giving and receiving feedback and fostering friendships/supporting each other keeps the community thriving

self care self care self care

Anyway. My goal has always been to write about the things I love about the game world and the things I create that are inspired by it. It’s a delicate balancing act that I’m still working on.

#jes.replies #hilariously bad takes abound #somewhat personal?#also I’ve been working on an oc side blog to try and organize things better #this may or may not get deleted if delayed embarrassment kicks in tomorrow

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derww · 3 days

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TL;DR: 2.6k words gen, post-Abyss arc, Devotion Duo-centric + Bacon, Roshambo, Jumper and Minute. Zam's origin makes it so he adopts small physical traits from people he trusts and considers his teammates. It backfires after Jumper's betrayal. Very poorly.

TW: Violence, blood, killings, temporary death, lethal poisoning, swearing, maybe spoilers

Disclamer: Not everything are stream-reliable, I have no real knowledge of biology, I actually like Jumper.

First of all, he is so, so angry. Because how dare she. How dare she betray them. How dare she leak all their plans, how dare she dismiss all their beliefs, how dare she never be on their side.

He wants to kill her. He wants her to die. He wants her to suffer. And, with it, he feels so much fucking pain. Because he trusted her, and she betrayed them. Three months. Three fucking months. And he is so fucking angry and furious, and pained and-

And then another kind of pain comes to him, and for one second, he actually thinks he'll just die in the place. He clings to the wall, feeling terribly dizzy and nauseous, and something is very, very fucking wrong-

His hearts drops from 12 to 10.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a message about Jumper's death. He hysterically laughs. It still hurts so much, and people are so fucking loud. He disconnects from the general chat.

You whisper to Mapicc: i'm gonna fucking die

Mapicc calls him. He answers.

– Were you attacked? – Mapicc asks him; It seems like he's running.

– No, I, – he starts terribly coughing, – where are you?

– Killed Jumper and blew up her base, – Mapicc reports with a smirk, – im trying to leave, but here is Minute and fucking Clownpierce.

Good shit. Now Mapicc just has to survive. He laughs.

– Good. I'll add Bacon? I don't know if i believe Pentar now.

– Sure.

Bacon picks up immediately.

– What's the situation right now? – he asks, – it seems like we all are kill on sight, because there are two people who want me dead. Fortunately, I managed to escape.

– I'm fucking dying, – he shares.

– Are you losing hearts?

– Yes, and it hurts like fuck. Its like- like- eyesight is blurry, and head is spinning, and im like going to throw up, and, and, – he loses words.

– Did something happen that– wait, before all of this, go and eat a golden apple.

– An apple? – he clarifies, perplexed and angry, and with great effort takes out a stack of golden apples from an enderchest. He takes a bite, and his vision partially clears. – oh, you are right. It's much better. I still feel terrible, but at least now I can stand on my feet.

– The fuck is this? – asks Mapicc. He's breathing heavily, still running.

– Actually, i have no idea. – Bacon says, – but it sounds like some kind of heavy poisoning.

– The fuck? – Mapicc asks again, – did fucking Jumper bit you?

– No??? – he answers, still alarmed, – when would she?

– She's not a fucking black widow, – Bacon pointed, – you should remember, when Zam got her trai-i-i-, – he stops, dumbfounded, – oh, fuck.

– What? – Zam asks. His head is still spinning. He bites the golden apple again.

– Zam, – Bacon says, seems angry and uncomfortable at the same time, – its your Jumper's trait. This shit can be fucking lethal.

He freezes in place.

– Fuck.

– Be right back, gotta kill her again, – says Mapicc and deafens.

***

Team Awesome Zam had gray hair and red horns. Eclipse Federation Zam had black horns and fox ears. Solar Union Zam had the halo and the wings – and, still, the horns. Pirate Zam had pangolin scales on his arms and legs. Abyss Zam had red horns and spider's fangs with a weak poison. Wormhole Zam had nothing.

After leaving Team Awesome he was getting very dizzy while being in Nether for another month. After leaving Eclipse being in the End were making him throw up. leaving Solar Union made him weak to the sunlight. Pangolin scales fell off, but it never caused him any pain or discomfort.

He forgot. He forgot. He fucking forgot.

He packs up his kit, adds more golden apples, drinks regen and swaps chestplate with an elytra. It hurts like death, but he's been placing pistons around the clock for the last week, what's it to him.

He knows where to fly, and he's dropping into the fight like a fish jumps into the water. Its not good – people are here, and Mapicc struggles, and with Zam it only becomes bearable. They fight, and fight, and he coughs blood and stares at the Jumper and only now does she actually look at least a little scared.

They can't win this in the long run, it's just a few minutes before they have to go or die, and all that's left is a small window of opportunities and unlikely options.

It's just a split second. Blink of the eye. Jumper reaches for the golden apples, Clown attacks Mapicc, Minute switches to him. Zam places rail, tnt minecart, shouts "Escape!" (because, of course, who even says "Charge" if the enemy hears them) and Mapicc shoots it with a flame bow.

He doesn't have time to cover himself with a shield – he forgets that he even has a shield – but he survives, being further out, and Jumper doesn't, and that's the only thing he cares about. He's shell-shocked, but he can still walk, and they run, and then they walk, and then they hide, because he's bleeding from both nose and ears and suffocating and god knows what else. Mapicc tells him how they'll ban Jumper from the server, like he's telling a bedtime story, and for a moment Zam really believes him.

They need Bacon's help for it, but eventually succeed in outrunning them. All of their bases are unsafe, so they mine very deep into a wall and make themself some beds and chests. Zam drinks too many regen pots and ends up passing out–

– Do you remember? – asks Bacon to Mapicc, – like, closer to the end of the fourth season, he still had this stupid Subz's horns.

– Oh, yeah, that shit, – Mapicc understandingly nods, – he looked so stupid, fucking Planet's halo, Jaron's wings, and these shitty horns.

– You got it, – Bacon nods, – he still had them after all Eclipse stuff because he still deemed him his ally and trusted him and all this stuff.

– How does this even relate to our problem?

– Don't interrupt me. – he frowns, easily irritated, – After Subz banned himself, the horns just fell off. Because there was no one to cling to anymore, i guess- i don't fucking know, it's Zam's shit and i dont think even he knows how this all works.

– So-o we have to ban Jumper. – Mapicc catches up. – good, – he approves. – I was just about to.

He wakes up from pain and coughing. Mapicc gives him his Jumper heart and he applies both, with one he got from her. They lie too heavy in his chest, but he has no actual choice. It'll get worse, he knows. The poison is everywhere in him, and he can slow down the process, but he can't stop it. He'll die, and he'll respawn, and he'll still be dying, because its a part of him.

***

Seeing Mapicc, Ro, of course, gets ready for a fight. He heard about the destruction of Jumper's base, he knows that Mapicc is angry and wants more blood – but something is very, very wrong, and Mapicc unperturbedly parries his preventive blow, and instead of actually fighting, he goes close and puts his hand on Ro's shoulder.

Despite them being enemies for the last several months, he freezes on the place.

– Zam is fucking dying, – Mapicc says, – we have to ban Jumper for him to survive.

Ro stares Mapicc right in the eyes. Something inside him clicks.

– Then why the fuck did you blow up her base, dumbass, – he hisses, pushing Mapicc's hand off his shoulder, – we could've just spawnkill her and now she's on the run.

– Fuck no, we could not, – Mapicc rolls his eyes up, – she knew we know where her base is. She is not that stupid.

– We still could've used it! – he disappointedly waves his arms, – doesn't matter. Too late. Kill me, I'll try to get info.

Mapicc nods. Before making a blow, he speaks with composure:

– Welcome back, Ro.

– We will have a proper reunion when Zam will be okay, – he shrugs it off, and Mapicc strikes him. And then again. And again.

***

He dies on the second day. Its fucking painful. His insides curl into a knot, everything goes wrong, and he fucking hates the taste of the golden apples, and he still dies and respawns, and he is still dying. He did not drop a heart.

Instead of crying and lying to himself, he gathers his shit and goes to spawn to finish voiding spawn because fuck Jumper and fuck the Foundation, he doesn't have to obey an agreement in which the other party has never played fair.

Mapicc goes with him, and it's not even a fucking question, and it angers him, but not being completely alone is also cool i guess.

And the spawn is so fucking empty because the war ended yesterday, but not actually. Even with a dizzy head and sloppy movements, he repairs Freakinator at the record pace and then just watches void to unveil while sitting right on the edge.

It's beautiful. It's so, so beautiful. He thinks of a world where he would never have seen it, and it makes him sad. And then he thinks that he would like to watch it with all the Abyss members and starts getting angry again.

– Maybe I'll get rid of Jumper's trait before losing all of my hearts, – he says to Mapicc almost optimistically, – I don't remember how long it took after leaving Team Awesome when i stopped throwing up and overheating in Nether. At some point it became just too usual to pay attention to this, and then it just stopped.

He feels Mapicc's gaze burning into the back of his head. Pistons keep falling into the void.

– Do you like the void? – he asks Mapicc.

– Yea.

– Why?

– It creates a challenge, a reason, and it gives me an opportunity to kill people and make them lose everything that they had on them. And it's just fun.

– Does it really explain why you were okay to die if it meant that someone else fell into the void?

– It really does.

They don't have time to finish voiding: Ro blows up Mapicc's communicator with warnings. Zam reads them carefully, looking over Mapicc's shoulder, and still stays in place. After a couple more minutes, someone comes at the spawn. Three minutes later, Minute carefully lands next to them on his black armored cicada wings.

The first thing he does is break Freakinator – three lines; she didn't finish just three lines. After that, he says:

– I thought we agreed to never touch the bedrock again.

Zam laughs back at him.

– What's so funny? – Minute asks. It doesnt seems like he wants to fight, but maybe he's just waiting for the teammates.

– We gave you a chance to stop us as a sign of respect, recognition of equal play. Because we thought the steaks were real, that we had achieved our goal. But you've never tried to play fair. You sent a mole to us, and all the bets were never real. So why should I stick to the deal, then? Jumper might as well have just sent you a link.

– So we're going back in our words, – says Minute, but it doesn't seem like he really wants to defend himself here, – what's fun.

– You know what? I don't even care. Think what you want. – he coughs and spits blood and eats gapple. He thinks about how he will be tearing Jumper apart. It's the only thing that keeps him stable. Maybe Minute will call her and he'll be able to fight her again – killing her now, regrouped, calmed down and for sure on twenty hearts will be much more difficult than last time, but he is ready try and try and try until it breaks him into a bloody mess.

He's staring into the abyss. It's really beautiful. He can't imagine a world where they would have stopped at that moment, and the last layer was never broken. That's what they really started all this for. But not really. That's a lie.

Minutes, in the end, actually calls for help, but the Jumper is not among them, and they escape. He plans to blow up the spawn so as to expose the entire void. At least he now knows how to build TNT dupers with his eyes closed.

***

By nightfall, he stops regenerating health above eight hearts. With a hundred precautions, Ro goes into their bunker and casts a hex on him that temporarily stops the pain and slows down the spread of the poison a little. He asks several times if they need him more here or there. Zam repeats as many times that he must remain a double agent. Then Ro jokes about shit for the next half an hour, and only then leaves.

They grab reluctant Bacon with them, divide the world into three, and spend the whole night flying across the sky on elytras with the piechart turned on. They are unlucky for a long time – they find lonely enderchestes, barely touched villages, and abandoned bases. Then they find what, according to the Ro, is the base of the Foundation – and fly on, because the Jumper is not here and she should be at least somewhere. And, once again finding the enderchest and going to explore it, Mapicc triangulates its location for half an hour, and then, having dug through one block more, stumbles upon the amethyst wall.

He hides in the walls for another 30 minutes. He sees the name tag. He writes the coordinates in the chat.

They jump on her from the ceiling together, and she's so fucking terrified, but for some reason she finds an almost complete battle kit in her inventory, and she's holding up really well, but there is only so much you can actually do in such a bad situation. She dies, and they find her bed, but she breaks it before and dies only one more time.

– This is not enough,– Bacon says distantly, hiding the sword, staring at her disappearing body, – She has Vi's hearts. She's still at 20.

– Yes, but she just died inside her own base twice, – Mapicc points, – we'll blow up it. When she builds a new one, we'll find it too. If she hides in someone else's base, we'll find that, and when she shows up on spawn, we'll kill her. It will affect her. She won't be able to hold on forever.

– We should have told Ro to wait for her at spawn, – Bacon shakes his head.

– She just wouldn't respawn and wait for a Minute to save her, – Mapicc rolls his eyes, – she won't let us just kill her. It's a long war. But we'll make it. She will break before Zam gets banned.

Bacon shakes his head. They blow up the base, fight the Foundation and leave.

Zam applies both of her hearts to himself and dies fourteen hours later, suffocating for the last two. It's an ugly death, but at some point, he comes to terms with it.

Maybe one day I'll be able to hate her a little less, he thinks, and for a single moment the pain recedes.

#derw writes #he doesnt have bacons trait bc bacon is an actual human here #lifesteal #lifesteal spoilers #princezam #lifesteal smp #minutetech #mapicc #roshambogames #jumperwho #baconwaffles0 #fanfiction

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seelestia · 1 day

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who are a few mutuals that you appreciate alot? mutual appreciation day 🥰❤️😊🤩💐✨

OOOO FUNFUNFUN!!! thank u so much for sending this in and for essentially spreading positivity, nonnie. this is appreciated ♡ also, instead of strictly moots, i decided to extend my appreciation to everyone! moots, anons, friends and readers alike ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

some odeliaesqué sappy appreciation under the cut:

@yvnaology - one of my fav facts abt yona was that she's one of the first moots i ever had on tumblr!!! and she's a lyney kisser and a fellow aventurine kisser (#taste). also she's so silly (/aff) and easy to talk to! like u'll feel at ease around her. she deserves good great and awesome things in life, so make sure to water ur yona daily with love <3

@solarisfortuneia - mika wished me congrats when i reached 1k and i still remember it till this day <3 she's friendly in a shy/modest way and suchsuchsuch a good writer! e.g. i cry over this every day actually. mika also has her silly moments sometimes too. someone save her /j

@floraldresvi - simply the sweetest & most supportive moot EVER! vivi is full of love and she's good at giving some of that love to others <3 her selfships are like bottles of serotonin to me. 100% would drop anything and everything in my hands to support her!!! and ik she'd do the same for me <3 mwah mwah 💐💐

@monicahar - the moot who comes online once in a while and drops absolute meals when she does. ate, left no crumbs 🔥🔥 also SUPER FUNNY!!! and unhinged, i'm concerned but amused at the same time. i hope she's having a nice break!! thank u for ur past & future services ma'am. we love u 🤭🤭

@milk-violet - MIREI !!! sunshine personified but also vv precious. i'm the leader of # protecc mirei squad (real). best person to have ever appeared in my notifs and i lovelovelove when her username pops up. take care & good luck with school! IK U CAN DO IT. remember what i said: slay before ur slayed 🗣️

@xianyoon - the butterfly moot 🦋 !!! both socially and aesthetically hehe. sosooso sweet & kind. has creative projects and executes them well at that too. i personally crown her as genshinblr's best hostess™! also, send her a moodboard and she'll cherish u forever - that's one of her love languages <3 ++ her pretty & aesthetic rb's are such a good refresh for my dash. love her for it!!

@hermosacolibri - the name, 'starlight' fits them sm bcs i feel like if we were to take a peek into their mind, stars will burst out!!! /pos (<- unique complimenting skills ik pardon me). their ideas are brilliant and i can tell they put their all into pursuing their vision <3 it's truly an honor to be a witness & reader. if u want to check them out, they write over at @/starlightlacrimosazpsff !!! ★

@wolfhookk - aaaaa ri !!!! booping her x1000 rn bcs i cannot believe boop trend ended when she came online. the discrimination 😔 /j i'll always remember ri as my first ever moot on here like first, 1st, #1!!! i forever thank her for swooping into my inbox back then and she's welcome to do that even now any time she likes <3

@kaiserkisser - skylia is the true angst consumer, the realest of it!! even in different fandoms LOL. she's nice (and gremlin-ish) when u get to know her more and she reciprocates energy really well! i'll never forget the disaster of boops in my notifs /lh

@callilouv - COOL MUTUAL ALERT !!!! cool art & cool interests. truly, picasso w/ the finger and fandoms!! idk if cal still draws with his finger dhjahshsj but still vv mega cool!

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank - the grandpas & old men kisser where art thou 💔 /j loqua has that awkward & silly rizz!!! idk if she still does wax stamps but i still think it's really cool. bcs qua's just cool in general !!! hehe

@calxlu - aaaaa vi!!! the one who enables my rambles and selfships shhshsh i am so thankful <3 rambler 🤝 rambler is the best. i love talking to her and it's super reassuring to know that it's mutual! even if i take some time but i always look forward to seeing her replies in my inbox. it's like we're penpals across the screen talking abt irl stuff and our f/o's ꒰✿´ ꒳ ` ꒱♡

& honorable mention: @/zhongrin. rin does not interact with minors anymore (which i respect and so should everyone!), so we count as former moots. but !!! i still think she's an amazing person regardless <3 (note: her blog is equally as great but plsplspls be mindful of her rules beforehand.)

brainrot anon - A REAL ONE!!! always there when i come back from the grave each time. i get reminded of them whenever i look at my inbox, it's an instinct atp. their brainrots are so fun & random (but that's a charm in itself /pos) !!! tbh i love elaborating them all so never stop sending the brainworms in <3 feel free to treat my inbox as a drop-off for ur thoughts LMAO /gen. come by again soon!

michiki anon - MY COUSINNNMNMN!!! i still love and miss when they'd come into my inbox to chat. it was so nice getting to know someone in a casual way <3 i hope ur doing well wherever u are, michikinon! i'm doing well these days and i hope u are too 🤍

rix anon - their series still has me FLOOOORED. i still think it deserves a proper platform than just thru my lil ol inbox. it deserves more recognition :( but just the fact that i got to help share their writing alone is an honor of its own!!! i hope ur doing well too, rix anon <3

++ everyone who has left a nice feedback / said anything nice in my notifs or my inbox!! even a simple 'cute' or 'this is good' or even just leaving a note means sososo much to me. i'm just a measly guy in my own little corner on this site, really - so thank u thank u thank u all !!! 🫂

#SORRY FOR THE PINGS Y'ALL 😵#this is giving 'end-of-the-year post' energy LOL (it's literally the end of april)#but yes why not <33 #ask box! 📬#anon visitors!

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starlightsuncrow · 3 days

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Finally have a free momence, I was curious what your Starfall is generally about, and how it compares to your GW2 alt universe! And any character differences as well, since you mentioned a few different alts (sorry if you’ve explained this in a post before !)

- @magitechbatt

omg,,,, you want to know about Starfall? Buckle in!! It's gonna be long. I've never got the chance to explain so thank you!! Starfall is an original setting @cheddargoblin and I created, the story's premise is: "Long ago a star fell, and changed the world forever both physically and magically and even in it's current day societies across the world struggle to re-find their place in a world grown more wild and hostile around them."

Medieval-ish fantasy with themes of freedom, change, healing and bonds, a good story about found family and overcoming entirely different kinds of bias and classism.

Gw2 has some shared themes and the setting isn't too far off ! Starfall is darker,cruel though. One big difference tho is Starfall happens mainly in snowy regions! Now onto the characters!

I'll speak about my main two, since the rest are still a big WIP.

In Starfall Crow is an ex-mage hunter who escaped the Guild ( main place where hunters are trained and also big anti mage propaganda between all the things, even if they are mages themselves). In escaping he's constantly hunted, due to being an important figure and...a big weapon that was trained specifically for "purposes" by his mentor. The black arms are tattoos ! Cruel symbol of how many mages you captured/killed and so on. Has to learn to fight his own life of bias and brainwashing to live "outside". He's like a caged dog who finally tasted freedom and will fight for it to death if needed. Closed off with MANY issues, they haven't lost a small spark of naivety and hope though. Big part of the character is the revelation they're a fae ! No, they didn't know it. It's complicated. Hehe's also a "cursed" fae, courtesy of the mentor again. Describing the cursed fae as magical beings who have to survive on blood and magic, since they're made of magic. Without feeding they end being feral beasts who won't ever go back to being sane. They go through addiction and withdrawl usually. He's a fighter and adapts easily, someone give him a break please. He's the struggler but keeps going , a love for freedom keeps him going. Crow in Gw2 is a saltspray who fled from the Jade Wind, searching for a cure or something to help back home. After centuries of disguises he fell into the end of the Inquest and got basically " cursed". Vampirism about blood and magic, for a being like a lesser dragon it's...not fun i'd presume. Got saved by Dragora, lived and learned under Drago's wing and then joined the commander's gang in s2. Revealed their true identity much later during EoD<<< caused some drama. They're Starfall's Crow without the harsh environment they lived in, in gw2 he got a taste of it but not enough to compromise his whole life. Marked by it but doesn't let it control them. He's an exploration of who Crow would have been if he escaped sooner from the Guild.

So both keep that duality of self, same coin, just a little to the side in gw2. Neither of them are too different. Fun story about Cardamomo, he comes from gw2 actually! He's my commander and that's part of his core personality. Never make me think of jokes with characters and pairings because 90% of times they end up happening <<< Cromo happened this way. In Gw2 he's the sylvari commander, a naive and full of wonders sylvari who learnt fast war changes you. Forever.

Cute guy who sees the horrors and comes back angry, frustrated and not much hope and will to fight again, but that's all he knows how to do after all. That's why Gyala and part of Soto hit hard. They're tired, they don't know how to rest. Big trust issues? Or more about they can't let be seen weak and vulnereable. The important thing to know about Momo is that he wasn't Cardamomo at first. He starts as Caoimhe until the Departing. He dies, he comes back. He comes back different. I love the mirror theme so much he IS a mirror. A broken one. Caoimhe died, Cardamomo came back with less memories, some gone forever and a personality made to withstand the trauma just to fight Balthazar. Oops, Caoimhe took too much time to recover and now this commander has two pilots. They're the same guy still! Momo isn't a new different identity, he's more of...some aspects put together to give time to heal. Similar personalities to the point there's no much difference unless you know what to look for ( they have a slightly different behavior and manner of speech). It's like a fragment who learnt to be its own thing, while still following the main purpose of protector.

It's a toughie to describe I'll be honest, if I can finish that fanfic i'm writing maybe it helps understanding it (or i can simply ramble on another post <3) In Gw2 he's a dryad, beings born with a specific purpose ( in this case it's about balance). I'm still working on many details but he keeps the commmander "role" so to speak and absolutely gains the Caoimhe/Cardamomo duality again. Loss is part of his character in many ways too eheh. He's a bit more off putting and warms a bit slower than his gw2 alt though! Playing more on the fact this guy isn't human at all. I've been trying to keep both my ocs' cores for both settings with some modifications but more or less the alts end up being "what ifs" and explorations of a part of the main character that can't be explored easily in the main setting. They aren't as different as I make them sound probably.

Fun fact, dryads and fae are rivals, this didn't stop Cromo happening( one half didn't know, the other didn't care). The main alt i can explain is Dragonheart for Momo! Selkastra ( saltspray is just an appereance change and plays more on Crow being young but still... a dragon) Dragonheart is Momo's champion self? so to speak? That one transformation in EoD but what if we can access to it under circumstances and what if it follows the different aspects too? Otherwordly momo <3 Each aspect affects Momo differently and he acts as consequence too. Physically and mentally. If Aurene is the Prism Dragon, Cardamomo is the prism itself reflecting, each side something different. There's Fae Crow to explain too, but nothing too big changes apart from making him extremely ethereal and fey-like. Not to be mess with, fae are known to bend rules and twist them to their like. Even tho Starfall Fae are...a bit particular. I hope these are enough to answer your questions, which im so so happy u asked!! (it got so long he l p) I'm terrible at summaries but this made my whole day, thank you so much again !! <333

#2000starfall #<<< for summary #sunbat i want u to imagine the biggest hug u can receive bc thats what im doing atm to you tysm for asking and being interested :D

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