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mofffun · 11 months

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my full Rita backstory headcanons:

(this is before anything ep16 came out and pure conjecture)

Family

Rita was born to ex-convict parents who gave them their best despite harsh conditions.

Rita probably met the Gokkan Yeti very young once.

Rita was given up for adoption to the Gokkan sovereign when the time came to select a sucessor.

They are not adopted right away but they had to leave their family/family name for the sake of neutrality when they enter the royal academy. That happened when they turned 10.

Their parents find it difficult to let go but giving Rita a chance at a better life and to see the wider world is more important.

Rita doesn't fully understand the weight of turning their back on their birth family yet, but they understood where their parents are coming from and wanted to do something for their community.

Gokkan had the reputaion of harbouring criminals and vicious characters but growing up, along with an absolute sense of right and wrong, Rita also saw people who help each other and try hard to begin again.

To be able to judge people not with presumption but a willingness to give them second chances is one of the merit criteria for the Gokkan throne.

God Papillon's will factor in too, somehow.

Over the years Rita has seen many people who are not accepted by society be driven to crime hence their empathy and the line to Jeremy in ep12

Rita's mother taught them about taking responsibilities when mistakes are made.

Rita’s father takes baby Rita on hikes and teach them to identify creatures.

Baby Rita loves to laugh, so much.

with Morfonia

Morfonia was a child pickpocket/cat burglar that was given a second chance at the academy.

Rita and Morfonia are the same age but Morfonia came to court two years later.

Morfonia was a bit rebellious at first but seeing Rita be the teacher's pet sparked her comeptitiveness.

Morfonia headed a one-sided rivalry with Rita for that term.

Morfonia is really smart and ace school without trying but she could just never win against the studious Rita.

Morfonia has never wanted to go to work

When it’s term final and Morfonia finally took top of class this once Rita didn’t show up for some reason, she found Rita buried themself in a Moffun-shaped snow fort.

of which Rita took a page off Morfonia’s book to skip school,

then she became as clingy to Rita as she can within limits of Rita's aversion to physical touch.

(when i say class i mean them joining the groups of 5 adult staff taking continued studies)

They probably have a lot of teenage misadventures together and Predecessor would scold Morfonia for “bad influencing” Rita, but they saw Rita needed those fun times too.

Rita “what is sleep” Kaniska

The Gokkan throne:

Meritocracy (x

the Gokkan throne is probably not for life, just that no one really wants to take the job it feels like life

It’s a high-risk job but some sovereigns did retire

gender neutral is not throne-related/demanded

Predecessor’s political assassination pushed Rita to hold neutrality to the extreme

Kaniska is the royal family name!

Rita took the throne at 17 (8 years ago) (that still somehow made them the last to be crowned... hc: Yanma at 15 but gradually (x

There's an apprentice period where Rita shadows the Sovereign more closely in the last three years. This is cut short with their mentor's death.

Predecessor might’ve died because they know too much of Shugoddom’s dirty secrets? Or they delivered an unjust verdict in exchange of Gokkan's interest and it backfired?

my Predecessor is probably someone they look up to, but wouldn’t dare go too close even though they legally can (or the fact that Predecessor does see them as their child); give lenient sentences a bit too often in Rita’s eyes; a bit too close to Shugoddom to Rita’s liking; has a sweet tooth

Rita struggled on when to give harsh and lenient sentences until Predecessor died

Other ideas I want to develop more on:

RITA IN THE AIDE UNIFORM

Rita’s relationsip with Predecessor

RITA GOING ON AWKWARD OFFICIAL VISITS TO EACH COUNTRY AFTER THEY ASCENDED (but it's the first time they left home…)

Combat training!

tradional arts and customs of Gokkan

GOKKAN SNOW FESTIVAL PLS

administration in Gokkan

Rita with northern lights! with sunlight cycles!

How did Rita and Kaguragi meet???

Kaguragi-Racles-Rita older gen/frenemies combo

I don't have very concrete headcanons about their gender expression as I don't have much personal experience on this. But I think it's something along the lines of, they never really gave much thought of it because the answer was obvious. They don't particularly align with one gender or another, it's just, it doesn't matter what gender I am in regards of my abilities to perform my duties as sovereign? so it's not really anyone's business to be nosy either.

i would not be immune to if in younger days Rita used to dress ‘lil princess’ but i don’t think that’s where canon’s going (but the "tutu" in Rita's room??!!!?!?)

Rita’s coronation ceremony or Rita in regal CLOAKS

Will Rita have a “break out of the cocoon” arc?

tbh Gokkan choir deserve their own episode

#kingoh hcs #kingohger #rita kaniska #saying this before 16 i'm ready to be proven wrong but i kinda like my own version #wanna write another theory based on canon UGH how is it Friday only *melting face*

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growling · 3 months

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ShadowClan (headcanon) family tree draft 1

^Long fuck

[GROANS OF PAIN] This one was way harder than the WindClan one because there are many major characters in here so I had to actually keep most relations intact to maintain the narrative cohesiveness instead of just going "fuck it we ball gorsetail is heathertail's mom now". Also, ShadowClan's family is INFINITELY more fucked up I just realized. While hardly any WindClan cat has a canon family and thus I can do whatever, ShadowClan is almost entire consisting of cats who do, and let me tell you the modern (as of ASC) ShadowClan consists of the tiger/dove family (+ grandma tawnypelt), the grass/stone family, the slate/cinnamon family (+ uncle puddleshine), blazefire say hello to blazefire, and... the snow/scorch family.

Now, the Snowbird x Scorchfur parents arc has FUCKED UP ShadowClan beyond belief. Snowbird has gave birth to three whole litters of three. That's nine fucking cats in total, she is a mother of NINE. Six of them are currently alive and still residing in ShadowClan. Two of them had kids of their own. She has six living children and five living grandkids. That is, (counting the whole snowscorch family, + uncle ratscar hello uncle ratscar) 14 fucking cats in this wretched family. ShadowClan consists of 28 cats sans the infants. Snowbird, Scorchfur, their spawn and uncle Ratscar hi uncle Ratscar take up 50% OF SHADOWCLAN. HALF OF THE ENTIRE GROUP.

There is no way to salvage this. No fucking way. Snowbird and Scorchfur cannot keep their god forsaken kindergarten. Fuck staying close to canon, I cannot do this anymore. Snow/Scorch now only have one litter; their second and third is shuffled over to Olivenose & Blossomfrost and Swampspot (Blossom and Swamp are former Canon Dead Babies I gave back the privileges of life in order to spread their genes in this hellhole).

Also: Russetfur, Blazefire and Cinnamontail (+ her babies) aren't on this tree. Russetfur and Blazefire because they are former outsiders that aren't really related to anybody so there's hardly any point, and Cinnamontail because ehhhhh I just didn't want to. She can still be Slatefur's wife whatever. It's good she is his wife because she's a former outsider which is fantastic hell yeah new blood whatever

I realized I had an opportunity to do something very funny and thus... I put Komaeda in Warrior Cats. I repurposed Hopekit from YS (Yellowfang's dead baby; she doesn't need dead baby angst she already has "my son grew up into a war criminal dictator and doesn't know im his mother because doctor nuns giving birth is illegal" angst) so that they're born earlier and a parent of Whitewater. Yep, that's Hopefire! He is a ShadowClan warrior and a proud single father of Whitewater and grandpa of Snowbird herself. His dad, Snowtuft, was residing in cat hell and legitimately didn't remember why he forgot his atrocities and then got fucking double killed his soul got GOT rest in rip Snowtuft, and his aunt, Sagewhisker, was a morally dubious ShadowClan's medicine cat and mentor of Yellowfang, whose most distinguishing character traits were 1) old, 2) guilt tripping Yellowfang into swearing celibacy to become her apprentice because she got cat superpowers or something 3) suggesting feeding cat cyanide pills to an injured teenager to Spare His Suffering instead of treating his injuries which is her job because like whats the point mannn!! (Yellowfang told her to go fuck herself and treated him herself, he actually ended up surviving and then dying in a war a year later <3) 4) suggesting Yellowfang either: cat abort(??) her illegal fetuses (i mean not rrly bad but how would that work + Yellowfang didn't want an abortion) OR wait until they're born and kill them (what the fuck) she could mean either it was worded vague as hell 5) died of a heart attack rip in piss. What a character

Anyway that's Hopefire aka Komaeda Danganronpa he's canon to the growling headcanon warrior cat universe <3 thank you for your contribution to the tree. Komaeda from warrior cats, his beloved baby daughter Whitewater, his evil amnesiac double-dead dad, and stinky celibate priestess aunt with a medical degree and something deeply, deeply wrong with her.

That is all folks. As in the previous one: green marker means no parents decided (or ive ran out of canon cats; most of them don't need specified parents anyway whatever), yellow marker means outsider, red marker means outsider that joined or was taken in by ShadowClan. Toodles.

(So, uh............. RiverClan tree is next up)

#mine #seweryn's wc tag #the struggle of the average warrior cat reader

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multiples-fandomswontkillme · 3 years

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~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

#metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family #victoria metal family #chess metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #metal family glam #metal family victoria #metal family dee #metalfamily #metal family heavy

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spiked-tea-writing · 3 years

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and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

��Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

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dourpeep · 2 years

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Oh no,,, you made me relate to a character that doesn’t even exist. Especially the people pleasing aspect,,, I get that on a personal level. Baby Ruby I want to give him a hug and ruffle his hair and tell him he’s appreciated and loved no matter what, he definitely needs to hear it. With how bitter he is, he probably didn’t have that good of an upbringing. Maybe he was just put with someone who did the bare minimum, like fed him and clothed him and gave him a home but never bonded with him? Maybe that’s why he’s so clingy because not many people show him affection? I get stray cat vibes, grumbly and mean when you first meet them but will soften up over time and will not leave you alone. Good thing I like cats ehe. And taking things at face value,,, aha, me too buddy, me too. It’s pain.

Oh my GOD I love that idea of Albedo getting confused when he sees a pic of the two of them he doesn’t remember taking. Family reunion!! Hm, maybe they were twins separated at birth? Would explain why they look extremely similar but not exactly the same. Ahhhhhh I need more Rubedo, he sounds like someone I would definitely get along with in person. We seem to be very similar yesyes. Ruby Rube hehe I love him -bunbun🐰

I won't lie, I feel the same. I see similarities in Rubedo and myself but it's more coincidence if anything!

I'll be leaving who raised him and stuff as a mystery since I have no idea--or perhaps Rhinedottir had Miss Alice take in Albedo so he could have more opportunity but kept Rubedo with her. Knowing that she's not a very warm, motherly person from Albedo's in game voicelines, it would work.

And yes! Definitely stray cat vibes. Very Scaramouche-esque in the sense that they both didn't really have the best circumstances and that is what shaped them to be like how they are now.

With the face value thing, he's learned that you shouldn't take advantage of what you have been given but also that you need to make your choices quickly. You never know what others will plan--so he takes what people say to heart. In a way, it's actually more naïve, but I think it's pretty fitting considering the in game lore.

But yes--the twins separated at birth thing with Rubedo being only a bit older.

It makes his whole situation hurt more, if you think of it. The fact that he and his brother started out the same--both only just children, both wanting to learn more about the world, both looking so alike. Neither had or have a true advantage.

But...things aren't always fair, nor are people, and with Rhinedottir, if she is more the type of person to be practical, to 'waste not, want not', then it'd sound about right for her to only allow one of the children to pursue more. OTL

Ahh man this is making me sad thinking about it.

But!! With the modern au, I do what I can to focus more on the present and future rather than linger on the past. We cannot do much to change what has already occurred, but we can do what we can to make the present and future just a little brighter.

Continuing on--

Albedo finding out, he won't say anything. Unless it's to you--but he doesn't want to cause alarm because if anyone was to understand Rubedo, it'd be him. Definitely would also try to find him and talk to him too because that's his brother the one he hasn't seen or had an opportunity to really know and he gets the feeling of loneliness. He sees Miss Alice and Klee as his family, but, it's not quite the same--if that makes sense?

I sense a heartfelt reunion nodnod

#anon asks #bunbun 🐰 anon #rubedo #modern au #genshin impact modern au #spoilers #sprout spoils

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Text

5. Deep

Allison finds some ...troubling things in the former music director’s abandoned base during her hunt for ‘Sammy’ and the stolen Ink Machine. (Set in FIFE, an escape au. After leaving Jonathan but still early into the game of cat and mouse between the false angel and apostate prophet.)

Allison could have sworn she had him cornered this time, but the more she searched his base, the more it seemed like the slippery ink man was always two steps ahead of her, even when the race had been rigged in her favor.

The sword-wielding angel hacked her way through rubble and rubbish, keeping her eyes peeled for the tell-tale ink stains and or signs of something heavy being dragged through the area. She did spot a splatter here and there, and some drippings that could have been what the former musician’s sweat, but no signs of the ink machine.

“How does he keep doing this?!” She groaned in frustration. “I swear, it’s like he can teleport or something!”

Despite her annoyance with the way her mission turned out, she was alert and aware, but she heard nothing aside from the sound of herself searching through the now apostate Prophet’s deserted base. She certainly SAW the signs that he had at least been there; the ink-stained remains of his leftover meals (livestock, mostly sheep.), a large collage of occult related stuff, flower related stuff, and ancient myth related stuff. (parts of the story of Narcissus had been highlighted and that story was the centerpiece of this thing), and the weirdly out of character taunts written on the walls;

‘LOOK AT YOU, NOTHING MORE THAN A PUPPET ON HIS STRINGS’

“Projecting much, Prophet? Okay, that was uncalled for, I really hope he didn’t hear that.”

‘IF YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE “SAMMY” AGAIN, YOU COULD ALWAYS DIE. YOU’RE BOTH GOING DOWN TO THE SAME PLACE AFTER ALL.’ Accompanied by an arrow pointing downward.

“Why did he put his name in quotation marks?”

‘YOU’RE NO BETTER THAN HER AND YOU KNOW IT “ANGEL”.’

“...I never said I was any better than her...”

All and all, on the surface, it seemed that he left, she had been too late, and now she would have to spend god knows how long searching for another lead on his new whereabouts. But not wanting to go back empty handed, she decided to continue looking through the abandoned base.

She found nothing that indicated a bed or bed-like sleeping spot anywhere in the building, at least, not one that had evidence that it was used by him.

“I guess he doesn’t like to sleep on the job.”

She also found nothing that indicated that he cooked the dead stuff that he was eating, but she did find a variety of flowers that looked like they were mostly eaten.

“At least he’s eating a somewhat healthy and balanced diet?”

And found some of his messier leftovers.

“I really hope he’s wolfing down what he considers ‘food’ as fast as he can before hitting the road again. Please someone tell me he’s not going slowly but surely going feral...”

Eventually, she found a tape, and decided to play it.

“What are you doing, Sammy?”

*Click*

“The more I travel alone with Her, the more disgusted I feel. When I am not with a human companion, She whispers to me, tells lies and truths alike, ones I learned the hard way and ones I did not know before. She mocks my mission, my goal, for She does not know how far I’m willing to go to achieve it.

Even if I wanted to, I can’t give into Her demands, Her gluttony is an endless pit that only goes deeper and deeper, never being able to be filled.

I know what I will have to do to destroy Her, I will have to be embraced by the deepest deaths of the abyss in order to strangle it into submission. A god can be created by men, it can be birthed by a machine, but it cannot be destroyed by anything less than another god.

They have ripped away so much of my humanity already, knowing that I will have to sacrifice what little of it remains makes the divinity creeping through my blood taste like bitter bile at the back of my throat. I hear the calling of that deep, dark abyss, and it tells me I will never never be the same. That the humanity I had is forever out of my grasp.

But no matter what She says or tries, nothing will ever be as bad as the depths of the dark puddles she had condemned myself and so many others into. I am willing to embrace godhood for my sheep’s sake if it means that they will never fear the deepest depths of the dark puddles ever again.

He might have failed to set us free, but I will.”

“Seeking godhood, huh...” Allison’s eyebrow raised in suspicion as the tape ended and she tucked it into her bag. “Tom might want to hear this.”

She took one more sweep of the area just for good measure and decided to take down the myth collage on the wall to bring it back with her. As she was doing so, she noticed that the parts of the Narcissus myth that had been highlighted were: The one that stated that He was the son of a river god and a nymph, and the end of the story where the man had drowned as the nymphs he rejected pulled him in and his body was turned into a daffodil by the pool of water.

“I never liked that story, and I don’t think Linda helped by pointing out that Narcissus really never did anything aside from reject people and be rude about it.”

Attached to the highlighted ending was a pin holding down a string, which she followed and found a ripped out page on the wall that seemed to be about the language of flowers as it talked about how the daffodil was a symbol of hope, rebirth, and new beginnings.

“Oh that’s surprisingly nice!”

She smiled to herself, at least Sammy was trying to do something positive with this? Maybe? But she couldn’t lie and tell herself that the page about the flower of rebirth washed away the pit of dread that started to grow deep in her gut. With the way he spoke about the Ink Machine, the way he seemed to change drastically every time she saw him, the fact what she knew about his goal was that he wanted to become a god for the sake of destroying gods...

It didn’t bode well if you asked her and she knew she needed to find him and bring him back before he did whatever he was going to do with the Ink Machine.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #allison pendle #ink demonth #batim fife au #fanfic #brief corpse mention

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 16)

(Gif credit HERE)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: The usual

A/N: I’m sorry I uploaded a bit later than usual today, I’m just idk, I think I’m nearing a burnout on this. But anyways, I’m sorry, you’re not here to hear me whine lol. Today as promised there’s a second chapter (17), and schedule will stay as is for now. Thank you, and hope you like it.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr

You can certainly say the people of Kattegat have surprised you. A few days since the King’s announcement that you are to be his wife, their queen, and yet the whispers, the curious eyes; they don’t seem to be any louder or more insistent than before they knew of who you’ll become once their King returns.

You are grateful, you cannot pretend otherwise. To be normal, or as normal as can be in these strange times, it is a luxury you do not take for granted.

So, as it is your new normal, you help the women at the apothecary every day, learning more and more, and yet also having opportunities to teach them better ways. The Gods made you smart, and they also made you arrogant, you are not one to deny it, which is why you and a warrior-like woman have been arguing on how to treat a simple but deep wound for quite a while now.

“We have always done it this way.” The blonde woman argues, but you shake your head.

“That doesn’t mean it is the best way,” You stir the boiling water, pour it over the wine mixed with vinegar and offer it to the woman. “Trust me, I was a healer all over the Mediterranean and the Silk Roads. I know what works best.”

“Arrogant little witch, aren’t you?”

You cock your head to the side and curve your mouth downwards, doubtful, “Is it truly arrogance if it’s founded on actual skill?”

She blinks but then softens her expression, and with a rueful smile on her lips she says, “If your tongue is just as wicked when you face the King, I pity the poor fool.”

“Are any of you going to clean this or sho-…” The warrior sitting in the ground grumbles, but the blonde woman silences him with a hit to the top of his head.

“Shush,” Her eyes remain on you and after a breath she extends a hand, “Fine, give me that water.”

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“He’s Viking, he can take it.” She offers with a sly smile, that quickly falls at your mocking glare when the man squirms and groans as the hot mixture is used to clean the wound on his shoulder.

When the man leaves with a dressed wound that will remain clean thanks to your help, the woman brings the big bowl of fresh water so you can both wash your hands.

As you do, she concedes, “Your ways are proving to be useful, witch.”

“I have a name.” You quip quietly, your voice a grumble. The Viking woman chuckles.

“I know. But ‘witch’ is not an insult, at least to us. It’s a title. You wage war, you sit next to the King, you are welcomed in any hearth.”

“I am no Völva.” You argue calmly, recognizing the traits and benefits she lists as those of a traveling Viking Völva.

“What would you be, back in your home?”

“Dead.” You reply dryly, to which the woman laughs. Clasping a heavy hand on your shoulder, she says,

“I’m Valdís, witch.”

You roll your eyes, but accept the title and her offered seat on the table near the hearth. She passes you an apple and a knife, and you start quietly cutting little sticks for you to eat.

Lifting your gaze to her and watching her toy with a pear and a knife in her own hands, you ask, “Fine, I’m a witch. What are you?”

“A mother. I used to be a shieldmaiden, but…”

“You got married?” You supply when her words die, but the blonde shakes her head with another low, raspy laugh.

“As if a cock could keep a Viking woman from her shield,” She boasts crudely, strikingly reminding you of Sieghild for a moment. The doors to the shop open again, and Freydis walks in, empty basket on one arm and coin pouches on the other. You greet her with a smile, and she returns it as she shrugs off the cloak and takes a seat by your side. Valdís continues her explanation quietly, “No, I did not lay down my shield for marriage. I was…captured during a raid in Wessex. They injured my sword arm badly, and I cannot fight anymore.”

“And your child…” You start, but the words die out, like saying it out loud would make her pain real, like you need to let her decide if she voices this.

Valdís squares her shoulders, strong and unmoving as she says, “He is mine, he is Viking. But…yes, he was…the Saxons forced themselves upon me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

“You Varangians are so strange. It’s not an insult to be offered compassion.” You tell her. She narrows her eyes, chewing in silence.

“What about you? You weren’t here last winter.” Valdís asks instead of answering, turning sharp focus to Freydis.

The blond girl shuffles in her seat before giving her answer. You eye her with concern and curiosity.

“I’m-…I used to be a thrall. I was freed by a son of Ragnar.”

Why doesn’t she say it was Ivar?

“Surprising he didn’t ask you to marry him,” Valdís huffs, and at your look shrugs and explains, “Those brothers have always had a thing for blonde thralls.”

“Slaves don’t get their hands asked for, Valdís.” Freydis quips, and you catch sight of her fingers playing with one another nervously where they rest on her lap.

“My personal thrall has a husband I have met, and children of her own. What are you on about, girl?”

Even if Valdís sounds gruff, you catch a genuine silver of concern, of care, in the woman’s eyes when she regards the frail girl that seems unbreakable and fragile at the same time.

You remain silent, and wait for Freydis to speak again. She does so, quietly, cautiously.

“We are not-…Slaves don’t fall in love, we just get husbands, slaves don’t have…families, we just birth children. Like animals.”

You do not try to stop your hand from finding hers, stopping the maddening twisting of her fingers and bringing her blue eyes to you. With certainty, you say, “First of all, you are not a slave anymore. And you were never, and never will be, an animal, Freydis.”

But she shakes her head, resolute like that day she tried convincing you the Gods marked you favorites for having endured a world of pain, “You don’t understand, witch. Slaves are not people, you cannot love them, you cannot trust them.”

“Says who? Men in power?” Valdís spits out, bitter chuckle on her lips, “Just because of the Gods we follow we are not people if you ask the Christians. Will you let them say if you are a person or not?”

“No.” The blonde girl bites out, voice wavering even in such a short vocalization. You squeeze her hand, but don’t know what to say.

“Then don’t let others, even our own, tell you that because of capture or birth you are not a woman like any other,” She sounds so motherly you have to bite back a smile. With certainty, the woman continues, “We are all children of the Gods, you are a child of Freyja. Don’t forget that.”

“I’m-…If Freyja looks over me, why…why did I suffer like I did?”

“Because suffering is what makes us human, and who we are,” You supply without hesitation, offering her a sad smile at the truth you had a hard time accepting as well, “How else would you be able to stand tall today and heal your own wounds, fight for what you want, enjoy what you have; without knowing what it’s like to hurt without remedy, to want and be left wanting, to lack and have nothing?”

The mangy black cat that belongs to the shop by now jumps swiftly into Freydis’ lap, and she absent-mindedly starts petting it as she talks,

“So the Gods mark us for pain? You said-…”

You interrupt her words, not wanting to argue this again even if you know now that the deluded notion of pain being a badge of pride is not so certain in her mind.

With another squeeze of her hand, you offer, “Suffering is not preordained, no. Pain, scars, misfortune, they are not proof of the favor of the Gods.”

“Then why-…You were born under the sigil of your Goddess, and you told me you almost burned alive,” You flinch slightly at the reminder, the soft touch of the linens of your dress against the scars burning like the Christian’s fire for a moment. You steal a nervous glance to Valdís, who watches you with wide eyes, and return shameful eyes to Freydis. The blonde girl continues, “You should have died then, but your Gods kept you alive, gave you their favor, their love.”

“The scars I bear are not proof of my Goddess’ love.”

“Your Goddess’ love carried you here!” The girl insists, eyes wide, “You stood in chains in front of Ivar the Boneless and had him release you. You stand at his side, you whisper in his ear, you have power.”

Her words make you pause for a moment, feeling you are witness to the darker side of the blonde girl for the first time since you arrived. She talked with you about lying to get your freedom, she asked about you seducing Ivar in exchange for what he gave you, and now she boasts about you being by his side like a conquest, as if nothing but a crown and power make up the Viking King.

You decide not to dwell on it, but you still release her hand and straighten in your seat. She notices, you know she does, but says nothing.

“No one’s love carried me here, Freydis,” Your voice may sound colder than before, and on the edge of your vision you catch Valdis raising her eyebrows and looking away. Still, you continue, “Sometimes pain is just pain. I don’t know about your Gods, but mine are-…In my home wise men said it takes strength greater than that of believing the Gods guide our every step to accept the Gods sometimes look away from their creations.”

“So they let us suffer?” Freydis asks, frowning.

A loud groan interrupts you, and you both turn to see Valdís throwing her head back where she sits, dragging rough hands over her face.

“Enough with this. Leave it to old and boring men to discuss the wills of the Gods.” She grumbles, earning a small laugh from you.

The days moves on slowly, though you notice the elders in the apothecary start ordering all of you to work more and more on healing salves and presses, making you wonder what the aftermath of a raid or a battle is like for the healers of Kattegat.

After a few days since meeting the former shieldmaiden, you are invited to join the women of the apothecary on the baths, and curiosity as to how similar these could be to roman public baths wins over your modesty, and you accept.

As you walk there, hearing Freydis hum a strange tune behind you, you catch Valdís, the dark-haired shieldmaiden stretching her stride to walk at your side as the group approaches the baths.

“So, witch.”

“So, shieldmaiden.” You reply, to which she offers a small smile as she meets your eyes.

“King Ivar said Sieghild Vorsdottir is the woman who raised you, who claims you as her daughter,” You nod slowly, not sure where she is going with this, “But she isn’t here, and you are to be a new bride soon.”

Your eyes narrow, and you steal a glance to Freydis as she moves closer to your side, very obviously wanting to hear this conversation.

“What are you on about?”

“You have no one to help you…shed the title of maiden,” Valdís explains, smirk devilish, “To prepare you to be a wife.”

“Not that any of us can prepare her to be the wife of Ivar the Boneless.” A woman quips from behind you, earning a chuckle from a few others in the group.

“My point is, we could use this time to teach you.”

“Teach me.” You repeat, and her smile only turns much more mischievous.

“Of course!” She turns to one of the elders, gesturing with a muscular arm, “Isn’t that tradition? Aren’t we to share our wisdom?”

The woman considers her in silence, though you could swear there’s a small smile betraying at her lips.

“I’m too old for this.” She mutters in response, but Valdís only laughs.

The baths are warm, warmer than any room you’ve been in, and though your hair hates the humidity, you sigh in pleasure at the almost-suffocating warmth.

You undress with ease, and it is only when you are readying to enter the bath turning your back to them that you realize what they may have seen.

The scars. Burn scars, not as bad as they could have been but still there, still present and marring.

They run over the outside of your right thigh, climbing over your hip into part of your back, almost up to your ribs. A gift from the Byzantines, so that you remember what happens to pagans.

“Are those burn scars, witch?” One of the women asks, and you turn around with gritted teeth.

Offering only a nod in response, but you cannot bring yourself to say anything more.

“Burnt alive for refusing to worship the Christian God, or so they say.” Valdís offers in your place, no hesitation in her voice, and no shame either, you notice, as she sheds her clothing as well and bares her strong yet scarred and marked body for everyone to see as she approaches the large stone tub as well.

It makes you feel much more at ease, even if it wasn’t her intention, seeing she has scars too, she has marks too. Not that the women that traveled with you are without their marks and badges of honor, but…the mark of war on a woman is something to be ashamed of, at least where you come from.

“No different than a scar from a sword or an axe,” She states confidently, bowing her head in recognition with a small smile on her face, “Glory to you, Greek.”

You offer her a small smile of your own, and get into the hot water.

“Thank you.” You offer sincerely, and go under the water to get your hair wet, silently pleading with them that the conversation finds an end. It does.

Conversation diffuses between the women soon enough, and the loud laugh of the shieldmaiden echoes in the walls, but you find yourself…comfortable, safe, even if the weight of what kind of failure this comfort, this ease you feel in this land means sets on your chest and almost keeps you from breathing if you think about it too much.

“So, about what we ought to teach you.” Valdís presses, drawing a groan from you.

“Would you leave the poor girl be?” Someone quips, but she dismisses them with a gesture.

“Witch,” Valdís -who you are noticing more and more has no qualms about keeping her mouth shut, reminding you strikingly of Sieghild- asks, moving closer to you in the large tub, “Do you know how to please a man?”

Oh, Gods.

“Yes.” You bite out, resisting the urge to close your eyes in mortification and hoping to everything there is on this earth, let it be Persephone or Freyja, that she doesn’t push this.

“But do you know how to please a Viking?”

“No matter what I say, you will talk anyways, won’t you?”

She only gives you a look that says you should know the answer already, before laughing. You groan, and lower your face further into the waters, igniting a laugh out of the other women.

_____

The routines of spending the days at the apothecary, exchanging secrets and tales with Freydis and loud laughs with Valdís, sharing short conversations with the other women, watching and learning and teaching; they quickly become a source of warmth and familiarity in this cold and strange land.

Even more now that Ivar is gone. You have no shame in admitting you have…grown used to him. Maybe that’s what hurts the most, what feels the most like failure; the fact that you have grown to enjoy his company, to hope for something more than resentment, to see him not quite as you did in Aneridge, but differently all the same. And the Gods made you too arrogant and proud to admit it to anyone but yourself, but you do miss him while he is gone. His curious eyes, his endless questions, his taunts and his infuriating stubbornness.

Prince Hvitserk has kept you company, and you offer murmured greetings each time you cross paths and maybe exchange a few words during dinner. It is more than you could ask for, and you think is all you should want. You have always had a soft heart, and not even Kattegat’s cold or its cruel King could harden it; and…a soft heart brings forth familiarity, care, affection. You have no use for neither, for you cannot forget the chains set upon you.

If you forget the chains, it will feel like a choice to remain here. And this is not a choice you can make.

You keep reminding yourself not to forget what brought you here, not to forget the chains set upon you, not to forget that you do not belong here; even as you occupy your day with a foolish and sentimental project.

You run into Hvitserk as you are carrying an armful of wooden planks -that you may or may not have exchanged a necklace for- to your rooms.

“What are you doing, woman?” He asks, and when he offers you, not demands, to take the heavy wood and carry it for you, you accept with a smile.

“I’m…making planters in my rooms,” The Prince still looks at you like you grew a second head, so you add, “I like plants. Herbs and flowers.” You offer as your sole answer, shrugging your shoulders.

When you reach the doors to your rooms, you hesitate, and the Prince offers you a smile.

“I can help you make them.”

“Is that…proper? For a man to be in a woman’s rooms?” You ask lowly, but the laugh you startle out of the young man takes away any secrecy you expected to get.

He pushes open the door with his shoulder and walks in, you trailing behind him.

“‘Proper’. You spent too much time with Christians, witch,” He chuckles, and drops the planks where you point him to. Crossing his legs underneath him as he sits on your floor, he motions for you to do the same. “If it’s my brother you are worried about, I’ll handle him.”

You thank him with a smile, tremulous as it is, and help him as you both work in amicable company, exchanging snippets of stories, quiet laughs and easy smiles.

“The King,” You start cautiously, and the Prince nods, giving you permission to talk, “Has he always been so…?”

“Usually worse,” He bites out when your words die, hitting particularly harder than needed at a nail as he does so. “You keep him preoccupied.”

“Should I be worried?” You say with a smile, scooting as you reach your favorite window and measuring for the perfect length of a planter to set there.

“He listens to you more than me, witch, I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

“You don’t get along?” You ask even if you already know the answer, readying a few nails to start forming an angle for a planter.

“My brother and I…we are bound to kill each other, I think.” He says, and you lift your gaze in surprise as your hand already moves the hammer down.

The hammer falls down on your finger with all your strength.

“No! Why would you say that!?” You say, sticking the hurt digit into your mouth as you frown at the Prince.

He laughs in response to your clumsiness, but there’s a burden in his eyes. Hvitserk shrugs,

“I risked it all to stand by his side when Ubbe almost turned his back on him, Odin knows if there’s a reason why our brother is not with Lagertha wherever she has run off to now is because of me,” He mutters, and you stay silent, thinking to yourself it seems like it has been too long since someone sat to hear him speak, “Ivar wouldn’t have held on to Kattegat for this long if it wasn’t for me.”

“But you do not want to take Kattegat from him.” You offer quietly, not even a question. Hvitserk presses his lips into a line, seemingly overwhelmed.

“I never wanted to be King. Neither does Ubbe, the throne…Even if you don’t agree and he doesn’t believe I think so, I know Ivar is the best choice to be King of Kattegat,” The young man shakes his head, and he looks much more fragile than you ever thought he could look. You get closer and lay a hand on his arm, as comforting you can be without feeling like you are being ‘too touchy’ like Sieghild used to chastise you for. Hvitserk furrows his lips with no little anger, and continues, “Ivar is my brother and I will always stand with him, I just want the arrogant little fuck to acknowledge what I have done and continue to do for him.”

You have no idea what happened between the three brothers, you assume whatever it was caused the breach and struggle for dominance that permeates the air every time Ubbe and Ivar discuss battle or matters of the city; but you listen to Hvitserk with a compassionate smile on your lips and offer the best you can.

“If you want to talk, my Prince, I am always here.”

Surprisingly enough, he does.

He tells you of their allegiance with Bjorn Ironside and others to avenge the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. You needn’t be told of the Great Heathen Army and the fear and awe it inspired in its enemies and allies, for the words reached all the way to Carthage when the Vikings moved against Aelle. But Hvitserk tells you, and he tells you of the struggles of the men at the helm of the forces and how as the eldest son of Ragnar sailed South, their brother Sigurd married to warrant a degree of peace, and King Harald moved back to Norway with a new Queen; the three sons of Aslaug where left to be the leaders.

He tells you of Ivar pushing to take control from his brothers, of Ubbe being at the brink of breaking away from Ivar and turn against him if needed. He tells you of facing both of his brothers and reminding them of their blood shared, even if vows made, if ambitions clashing, if old pain and rancor, threatened to pull them apart.

He tells you of the marches for York, of many cities raided and pillaged. He tells you of the land granted for a settlement, of the funding of Dublin and the struggles for power that took place there. He tells you of the battles and blood that got Ivar to be King of Kattegat, and he confides that even if he appreciates and sees the change in his younger brother and how he is trying to appease him with by making both his and Ubbe’s voices heard when it comes to matters of war and the Kingdom; Ivar still treats him like nothing more than a dog, always mistrusting and always cold towards him.

“I’m sure he loves you.” You offer quietly, but the Prince does not look at you, instead toying with a piece of wood between his fingers.

“Ivar loves nothing.” He corrects quickly.

You shake your head, the hand on his arm squeezing to call for his attention. When he looks up at you he looks young and open, but his expression speaks of tiredness and resentment.

“You don’t believe that.” You promise quietly, to which he answers with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

Soon enough you both finish the planters, and you both bring the earth and branches needed to make the layers. Whispering prayers you carry in your heart alongside the secrets of the Thesmophoria, you water the earth and promise it care and seeds for growth.

The seeds will have to wait until you can get some, but the knowledge that fertile earth surrounds you fills you with a certain degree of peace. Even if this cold city kills you, you will force life and spring upon it. If you have to feed the flowers with your blood then so be it.

Hvitserk calls for your attention telling you he thinks he knows a little bit of Greek, and as you start getting horrified by his attempts at your language while he butchers it unwillingly, you both walk outside side by side.

Conversation starts on other topics soon after, and he tells you of the strange people he has met while handling Kattegat’s commerce influx and trade deals, which, paired with the way he recalls the stories with gestures and voices and expressions, makes your laugh louder than you have released it in so long.

Your giggles die down as you take a sip from your tea, and the Prince leans forward on the balcony railing, sighing.

“For all your strange ways, you seem…honest, witch.” He says, eyes on the horizon. You join him quietly, overlooking the cold city.

“If you were to ask the woman who raised me, she would say it is due to my arrogance that keeps me from being able to shut up,” You offer with a smile, “But thank you, my Prince.”

___

I know this chapter was kinda filler and kinda boring, I’m sorry. I promise the next one is hopefully more exciting. As I said last saturday, I’ll be uploading two chapters instead of one today. Chapter 17 will be up shortly after this one. :)

Thank you for reading <3

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings #νοσταλγία masterlist

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lurking-in-windclan-camp · 2 years

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New preview hot takes time! this about River, so everything will be under the cut

god not another forbidden romance. im pretty sure its Spireclaw and Fringewhisker(love that name). Since Sunbeam seems pretty close to Lightleap, I wonder how she’ll react to that. Also please don’t be a major plot point please just be a small side thing that only really showcases the new rule or smth. although I doubt that'll happen since they were in the prologue

Flamepaw please. We get it that you have daddy issues. or like predecessor issues. Literally Every Person in your Family has firestar-is-my-relative issues.

But other than that I quite like him. The Erins finally gave another queen grief related issues when their kit(s) died. Also he is not a favored child :tm:! Love that he actually failed his warrior assessment. Also love his spunky bad boy ideas, GIVE US CAT DEMOCRACY. :) also he has foster siblingsss, more untraditional families whooo! They addressed the weird fact that his name is Flamepaw and he’s all black.

Side note, Beetlepaw x Flamepaw as a crackship who's with me Frostpaw.. tbh I pretty much skimmed this part. Mothwing is a lot more antisocial/snarky than I remembered. It’s interesting how both her and Whistlepaw were sent a sign to be medicine cats, rather than choosing themselves. (Also frostwhistle..... idea)(also wasnt whistle paw an apprentice for a while? her siblings are already warriors I believe. unless she's not related to song and flutter but its weird that she's described as a new apprentice anyways). I wonder if sh’ll realize that she doesnt want to be a med cat because im getting assigned-healer-by-birth vibes. Frostpaw also has a dead dad, I wonder if this will tie into something.

Sunbeam! Not really anything interesting to say ab her. I feel like Blazefire is gonna die soon or smth. Or maybe the Erins finally learned how to write a long term functional relationship! Lightleap is.... not giving me good vibes. But I suppose that’s implied. another female villain mayhaps....

Other miscellaneous stuff! THEY ARE FINALLY GIVING US MORE UNIQUE NAMES. Idk about everyone else but I love Ridgekit, Stripekit, Bloomkit, and Whistlekit. Kind of sad that Flutterstep and Songleap got such basic suffixes but they’re not too bad. ALSO MISTYSTAR IS FINALLY OLD. PLEASEDIEPLEASEDIEPLEASEDIE-

Spotfur had her kits! I really hope Bristlekit and Stemkit aren’t reincarnations. Is gray kit named after Graystripe? Did he die?

#warrior cats #wc river spoilers #wc #warriors

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stargleam-star · 3 years

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Time to talk about Leopardstar's Honor. Spoilers below! Also I share my controversial opinion so be aware of that too. Strap in folks, this is gonna be a long post.

Alright I am gonna start this shit off by confessing: I am not a Leopardstar fan. Like at all. But I was hoping her super edition would change my mind. It worked with Crowfeather's. So I thought "finally, I'll get to understand why everyone loves Leopardstar so much". But this book didn't change my opinion of her at all. In fact it might've made it worse. However, I do think at the very least Leopardstar was written dynamically. She's complex in that she wants what's best for the clan, but does the worst things possible and winds up getting clanmates killed as a result. Her personality sucks, but that's completely my opinion. I don't like people who think and act like she does. The whole book she was like "I'm special uwu" which is annoying. But that doesn't make her a bad character.

Beyond the characterization of Leopardstar, I think the world around her felt a little bland. Especially in compare to how it was described in Crookedstar's Promise. In that book I felt like I was actually walking through Riverclan territory with Crookedjaw. But in this super edition I felt confused at times.

Now to rant about my biggest disappointment with the book: Leopardstar's relationship with other characters. Once again the erins decided to treat foster siblings like they aren't actually family. I kinda liked that Skykit was a little shit towards Leopardkit in the beginning, but I hoped they'd grow to be close. They didn't. In fact Leopardfur barely mentions her foster siblings once she's an older apprentice then warrior, except to refer to them as clanmates. Also Frogleap was Silverstream's foster brother, yet the erins write him as having a crush on her?? Gross. I have a lot more thoughts related to Silverstream, but more on that later.

As for Frogleap, I liked him. He was charming and nice. I was constantly rooting for him to have a good life. I don't like that Leopardfur was in love with him though, it felt forced. But the erins gotta throw in an unnecessary romance somewhere so *shrug*. I liked Leopardfur's relationship with Sunfish though, I thought that was fun. Sunfish was sweet and was a good choice to be the opposite of Leopardfur. They balanced each other out. I was sad when she died. I have no feelings on Whiteclaw though tbh

I didn't like how Mudfur was portrayed in this book. I understand Leopardfur is an unreliable narrator so his behavior seems shitty on purpose. But beyond that, he just comes off as bad. He spoiled his daughter rotten from a young age, constantly telling her how special she is (which fuels her self righteousness) then when she grows up to be greedy and hot headed, he treats her like she shouldn't believe she's more special than anybody else. Like dude you created this monster, and now you're gonna do a full 180 and claim its her fault she's such a brat? Cmon dude

Next, a Silverstream rant. I really wanted Leopardfur to have more of a connection to her. They were both born under the same circumstances (mother wasn't well, and died after giving birth). Theyre both the sole survivors of their litter. Also, they were both born to an important cat in th clan, and spoiled when they were young. And so I thought, maybe Leopardfur would form a fondness for Silverstream because of all this. They could have been written as opposite sides of the same coin. Leopardfur grew up to be ambitious and greedy. She wanted to rule her clan. Silverstream also grew up greedy, but wanted to find happiness with her mate ratherthan her clan. It would have been interesting to see how Leopardfur would handle a cat who was almost just like her. But no, we don't get any of that. Instead somehow Leopardfur finds out Silverstream is dating Graystripe. So the only interaction these two ladies have is over Silverstream's stupid teenage romance. Then Leopardfur has bitter thoughts about Silverstream's kits their entire lives. "Oh I should have looked out for Silverstream more" *proceeds to treat her surviving children like crap because their dad was born someplace else*

I wanna talk about another bit of wasted character relationship potential. Leopardfur's connection to Mistyfoot and Stonefur. Is nonexistent. We hardly get any interaction between those three until Leopardfur is close to becoming leader. Then we start seeing more of Stonefur and just a little bit of Mistyfoot. But barely. It feels as though Leopardstar picks Stonefur outta nowhere, especially when she has deeper connections with other, more experienced cats. Like Beetlenose, and her foster siblings Skyheart and Blackclaw. Hell, even with Loudbelly! Leopardstar doesn't care about Mistyfoot until after Stonefur gets killed on her watch. It's ridiculous! It's wasted character potential. Nothing infuriates me more than wasted character potential.

I will say though, Tigerstar definitely lived up to his full potential in this book. He was cruel, manipulative, cunning, and believably deceiving. I hate Tigerstar as a person. But I love how he was written here as a character. He felt fleshed out and well rounded. And I should hope so, given he's warrior's biggest villain up until the last book of Omen of the Stars. Though I didn't like the implication Tigerstar made about being interested in being Leopardstar's mate. That was gross, just cause he sucks and that makes Tigerstar×Leopardstar canon. Way to go, erins

Finally, I want to talk about the story's writing... god it was a mess. The pacing was terrible. The first couple of chapters were long as hell. The time skipping (especially after chapter 2) could be a bit jarring. And then the later chapters felt short af. The book seemed to fly past the events of TPB rather than giving us a chance to think about and digest Leopardfur's feelings during this time period. And they retconned Oakheart's death which ruins a big plot point of the first warriors arc. There were way too many spelling and grammar errors. The book was sloppily written and you can tell the erins threw everything together as quick as possible without double checking thrir work. I understand the time limit they're given to finish books, but they really should have been more thoughrough with proofreading especially with how large of an editing team they had.

Overall this book was a disappointment. Definitely up there with the worst warriors books ever written. It was a nothing burger of a story. And its such a shame it had to happen to such a beloved character's story. Leopardstar, sweety, you deserved so much better. Im sad I couldn't become a fan. And Im sorry the erins did you so dirty 💔

#leopardstar's honor spoilers #LH liveblog

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mallowstep · 3 years

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In the seer au, with Jaypaw going to Windclan and working with Leafpool, would that lead to trouble later on if cats find out about him being Leaf/Crow's kit? Because seers aren't supposed to be in their families clan?

i don't want to say too much about it, lest i show my cards for the next few fics, but uh. okay i'm going to talk about the end of "it's been promised to another" which, if you're not up to date with stoalg, well (a) spoilers but (b) the end of ibpta has discussion both of death/exile and abortion.

anyway so saying the problem here is seers aren't supposed to be in their family's clan is like saying, "yellowstone just erupted, and also there's a power outage."

i mean yeah those two things Sure Are problems, but one of them makes the other basically irrelevant.

as far as the cats are concerned, jaypaw isn't related to crowfeather and leafpool. (short of like. he couldn't have kits with a half sibling that would be Bad.) but squilf adopted leafpool's kits, leafpool's kinship ties are broken, that makes them squilf's kits.

so Even If there wasn't a bigger problem, the being leaf's kit thing wouldn't be an issue.

she didn't even nurse them for longer than like. a quarter moon?

anyway. crowfeather is definitely irrelevant here. he didn't raise them in the Slightest, he's not their dad.

(they have no father, they have two moms. squilf and mothwing. mothwing isn't supposed to be a parent but uh. well. she Loves Them a Lot a Lot a Lot.)

but yeah, nominally at least, the cats wouldn't hold jaypaw's bio parentage against him in any way.

being in windclan is definitely highly sus for him, because they take this stuff The Most seriously, but they also. so as a reminder, the status at the end of iaffl is

mothwing and flamepaw in thunderclan

spottedleaf and kestrelpaw in riverclan

cinderpelt and willowpaw in shadowclan

leafpool and jaypaw in windclan

(some of them may have their full names but i'm being quick.)

and so there's really no possible solution to the problem? like. okay, so...jaypaw and willowpaw are a Potential swap, since both flamepaw and kestrelpaw results in someone returning to their birth clan, but shadowclan wouldn't want to give her up because she knows all the Clan Specific Deal. (jaypaw would know stuff for windclan, but significantly less.)

anyway, you see the difference between ideals and politics here. ideally there wouldn't be a problem, but the clans would not like it.

but of course! leafpool is a seer. and so figuring out What to Do about Her is way much very much the bigger problem.

at the end of ibpta, she basically has three choices: die, be exiled, or abort her kits. she chooses option four: try to avoid her other choices.

like, the clans are uh, very much Not Pro Choice. okay general reminder: my warriors worldbuilding does not reflect my views about the world. i am not trying to build a good world, i am trying to build an interesting one.

anyway.

when your infant mortality rate is ca. 50%, every kit's life is precious. killing kits (including unborn ones) is a crime punishable by Instant Death.

leafpool is a seer so who fucking knows what would happen, because harming a seer is punishable by anything from a Big Time Long Term punishment to Exile to Death. highly dependent on the level of harm (accident, accident but serious, any level of intentional harm), but like. cats know who the seers are. it's important to know before you bring an apprentice to battle.

god it's been Ages since i rambled about stolag's world building. mothwing's piece is like. the biggest chance to expand on that and it's through such a low-battle time it doesn't come up. why must i be like this.

so yeah so! who knows what would happen bc by that logic you get: leafpool kills kits → leafpool must be killed → leafpool either has to kill herself or whoever kills her must be killed

(you might be saying, "wouldn't a murderer for punishment purposes get immunity?" to which i say, "this is not that type of world. the rules about seers trump every other rule. even where it doesn't make sense.")

anyway, obviously that's not super relevant because that doesn't happen.

if leafpool was discovered when she was pregnant or nursing, the kits would have been given to a windclan queen. they may or may not be told about their birth, but the other clans certainly wouldn't.

leafpool would be exiled or killed. it's not super clear what would happen, but either way, she would lose everything.

kestrelpaw is the oldest apprentice, i believe, but willowpaw would be chosen for obvious reasons. windclan is probably best equipt to deal with this Particular situation, because windclan elders share the burden of knowing the whole hymn. so willowpaw would have people to teach her everything she needs to know.

willowpaw would receive her full name after learning the full hymn, and windclan would have to trust that the stars would guide her to oversee the correct rites. (singing days, fasts, and approving names of kits.)

(and who would name her? she would be instructed to pray on it and starclan would give her a name. not sure what i would name her. windclan doesn't have any sense of passing names on, so while if this were in thunderclan or shadowclan she would be named willowface, willowbark, or willowleaf with some level of certainity, there's no such convention.

i might name her willowshine or willowlight.

which might give away that her name isn't necessarily going to be willowshine in stolag.

but i digress.)

anyway! that makes willow the youngest medicine cat, and cinderpelt the oldest (without an apprentice). so shadowclan jaypaw instead.

anyway! yeah the fact that she's his mother is certainly a problem, but it's almost insignificant to the greater problem that a seer had kits.

a scuffed knee compared to a broken femur, if you will.

so yeah, there'd definitely be a problem, it just wouldn't have much to do with the family relationship. if, say, he was a squirrelcrow kit, windclan would be a-okay with him staying, because crowfeather isn't his father in any meaningful sense.

hope that makes sense! sorry i started rambling about politics again.

#ask #anon #stolag #essay #iaffl #ibpta #saw3b #that's jayfeather's piece #sit and watch what we'll become #fav title in the arc #mine #txt

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #444

“the monster you made is wearing the crown / i’ll be the king, and you’ll be the clown”

Do you take off from school, or work for your birthday? Ha, I used to try to talk Mom into letting me stay home from school... It only sometimes worked. Have you ever created ‘open when’ letters for someone? No. That'd be cute for an s/o, though. What is the best thing about being in the relationship you’re in right now or about being single? Not having to fear my partner leaving because of the struggles I'm going through. Not having to worry about not being enough for another person, because I'm not even enough for myself. Do you have a favourite painting? Not by a historical artist, no, but there is a piece by a deviantART artist called "Denialism" (by NukeRooster/Tatchit, if you're interested) that I adore so much I've actually gotten her permission to get it tattooed one day when I can afford a brilliant artist to do it. What are some of the best life hacks you know? /shrug What makes you smile without fail? MARK LAUGHING laj;sdkafjwlk;erj Do you know what you’ll be getting your loved ones for the holidays this winter? No clue. That's still a whiles off. What is your biggest short-term goal (within the next month)? Just lose a decent amount of weight for a month's time. What will your next tattoo be of? It depends on what cash I have available, really. As much as it sucks, I think my next tat is a whiles off because I just have more pressing things to pay for. Has anyone very close to you ever died? Besides pets, the closest human to me that's ever died was Jason's mom. If you were throwing your significant other/best friend a themed party, what would the theme be? Uh, Frieza-related, obviously. Do you feel prepared for the apocalypse? I don't believe in the apocalypse in the biblical sense of it being determined by an ultimate power, so this isn't something I really think about. Whenever humanity ends, it ends. I don't have a say, so I may as well not obsess over it. Do you think you will have children naturally, adopt, or forgo having children altogether? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I know that either I'd have to give birth to them or my hypothetical wife would for me to feel *properly* connected to them as a mother should. Oh, or if my male partner had a kid from a previous relationship, but I'd have to be REALLY in love with him to feel like that child is also my own. Do you take pictures of yourself on a daily basis? Oh god no. Do you believe in angels? No, but rather just spirits. Is there anything in your past that you used to regret, but now you don’t? Hm, maybe? Does your knee hurt? My knees always hurt. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Yes. Do you like raisins? omg nooooo What is your favorite bug? Butterflies! :') Do you like Scrabble? Sure, it's fun for a board game. Do you have a printer? Yes. What is your favorite food? Cheeseburgers or pizza, probably. I know, so American. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? Yes. Do you like ants? They are very fascinating when you really think about it, but I still find them incredibly annoying. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. Have you ever drank goat milk? No, I don't believe so. What’s your favorite video game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Do you like cats? I love kitties!!! :') Are goldfish your favorite fish? No. I think my favorite is probably the lionfish. Do you like vanilla pudding? No. I only like chocolate pudding. What is your opinion on gay marriage? I 100% support it and would fight to the death for it. What is your opinion on gay adoption? Don't even fucking look at me if you see a problem with a parentless child finding a home with two people in love. Who was the last person you had a crush on? Sara. What’s the most expensive piece of clothing you own? I have zero clue. Why do you drive the car you have right now? I don't have my own car. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Omg yes and it sucks. Are you friends with your neighbors? No. What is your current desktop picture? One of my favorite pictures of my late pup, Teddy. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen out the window of an airplane? Mountains! Does your neighbor have any pets? *shrug* Have you ever swam in a mountain lake? No, but that sounds VIBIN'. Has a cat/dog ever thrown up on your bed? alksdjflk;a;jdfalwe yes Have you ever had a concussion? One or two. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Not currently, I think? I want a fat-tailed gecko, though. :( Would you ever go bear hunting? I wouldn't dare hunt ANY animal. Have you ever seen two movies at the theater in a row? I have not. How many teenagers do you know who have babies? I know no teen personally that has a child, but there were some pregnant students in high school. If you could keep your parents or trade them for other parents, which would you pick? I would NEVER change my parents. Is there a piggy bank in the room you’re in? It's not a "piggy" bank, per se, but my sister got me a skull one that she says is for my tattoo funds. :') How many sets of twins do you know? Two, off the very top of my head. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? Yes. No one fucks with her for as long as I live. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not especially. Who is your favorite Disney Channel person? Uhhh, maybe Raven Symone? How many pets do you have? Just two. Do you think you will be successful in life? No. :/ What do you have pierced? My earlobes, twice, and my bottom lip. I have been dyinnnnggg for some new ones lately. :/ Does techno annoy you as much as it annoys me? No, I actually enjoy quite a bit of techno. What’s your comfort food? Ice cream. Do you like paranormal stuff? YES. Do you have a favorite stuffed toy? Rebel, my adorable meerkat plush from Jason, and Brownie, my moose from Cabela's. What’s the most exciting project you were given? In a way, my senior project since you got to choose your own topic, but I dreaded the presentation. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not at ALL. What are your favorite colour for a cat? Orange! If you had to live your life carrying a shield, what would its design be? This is gonna sound super, super cheesy, but probably a heart to symbolize how love should and could block the effects of hate and general evil and that we should pursue that instead of violence. Out of all the cancers, which one do you think needs to find a cure first? Oh god, they all do. If I had to pick one though, it'd be one of the inevitably fatal kinds, like pancreatic. What are your general afterthoughts when you’ve finished a book? I feel accomplished for actually reading to a story's completion. How many pairs of glasses (not sunglasses) have you owned? Two, I think? What color is your flash-drive? Hot pink. Have you ever built a sand castle? Yeah. How many houses have you lived in? Six. One I have no memory of. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth? Yes. What video game should everybody play at least once? Amnesia: A Machine for PIgs for the symbolism. It blows my mind how most horror fans hate it; it's like they totally miss the point. 100 years from now, what modern things will people look back on and say, “WTF?” Hopefully things like homophobia, racism, misogyny, concepts like those. What is impossible to understand until it happens to you? Mental illness, to name only one thing. What fictional food item from a television show, cartoon, movie, or video game have you always wanted to try? Hm. There's a lot that has looked super good, really. What’s something that gets much more hate than it deserves? Nickelback, lmao. What phrases or sayings drive you crazy? "Everything happens for a reason," "it could be worse/some people have it worse," "it's all part of God's plan," "just think positive"... a lot of stuff. Do you have a deviantART? I do, even though Eclipse made it fucking suck. I only really stay because I cling to the dying hope of being at least somewhat successful on there, and I enjoy keeping tabs on the artwork of the hundreds of people I watch there. Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? Mufasa, even if he doesn't last long in the movie. :''''''( Have you ever been to Germany? No, but I'd love to! What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. Have you ever been ice skating? No. The blades on the skates scare me. Have you ever taken a karate class? No. Do you have any nieces or nephews? I have a lot, if you include my half-siblings' kids. Do you own an Xbox? Nah, I've always been a PlayStation gal. Would you date someone who’s well-known for cheating? Nope. Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? No. I'd consider their reasons, but ultimately, it's about me loving the person. Could you be in a relationship without sex? Yeah, sure. It's not ideal, but I mean if the other person is just very opposed, I'm certainly not forcing them. Emotional intimacy is more important to me, anyway. Have you ever been “friendzoned”? Yep. :') Briefly, anyway. Jason tried for my sake, but it was VERY short-lived by no one's fault but my own because all I know how to do is fuck shit up when it comes to him. Which “famous couple” is your favorite? LOOK Mark and Amy are FUCKIN GEMS Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship? Pretty fucking much. Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship? I'm submissive by nature. Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated? No, I think it's a cute holiday. Which do you feel is worse of the two to smoke: weed or tobacco? Well, weed has more carcinogens, but at least it has actual health benefits. Who did you last see that you haven’t seen in ages? *shrug* Are you photogenic at all? God no.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''necessary evil'' by motionless in white (ft. jonathan davis)

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quixotic-writer · 3 years

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The Impractical Gattosby: Chapter 1

~Oh???? My god???? This was fucking INCREDIBLE!!!! Thank you for this spectacular submission! I’m truly blown away! Please please PLEASE post this on AO3 or Wattpad because I want you properly credited with this work and I want so many others to read this!

In Murr’s younger and more vulnerable years his father gave him some advice that he’s been turning over in his mind ever since.

“James, whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told him, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

He didn’t say any more but they’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and he understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence he is inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to Murr and also made him the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that at college, Murr was unjustly accused of being a ferret, because he was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought—frequently he has feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when Murr realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope. He is still a little afraid of missing something if he forgot that, as his father snobbishly suggested, and Murr would snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.

And, after boasting this way of his tolerance, Murr came to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point he didn’t care what it’s founded on. When he came back from Staten Island last autumn he felt that he wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; he wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gattosby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from Murr’s reaction—Joe Gattosby who represented everything for which Murr has an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “comedic genius"—it was an extraordinary gift for confidence, a type of shamelessness such as Murr has never found in any other person and which it is not likely he should ever find again. No—Gattosby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gattosby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out his interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

Murr’s family were prominent, well-to-do people in the northeast for three generations. The Murrays are something of a clan and they have a tradition that they’ve descended from Italian and Irish nobility, but the actual founder of his line was his grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale business that Murr’s father carries on today.

He never saw this great-uncle but he’s supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office, sporting a shiny bald head. Murr graduated from Georgetown University in 1915, and after he decided to go to New York and learn the motion picture industry. Everybody he knew was in the motion picture industry so he supposed it could support one more single man. All his aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for him and finally said, “Why—ye-es” with very grave, hesitant faces. Father agreed to finance him for a year, using the funds that would have otherwise gone towards purchasing for him an automobile, and after various delays he went to New York, permanently, he thought, in the spring of twenty-two.

The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and he had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office suggested that they take an apartment together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea. He found the place, a weather beaten cardboard apartment at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Los Angeles and he went out to the country alone. Murr had a dog, Penny, at least he had her for a few days until she ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made his bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.

It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than Murr, stopped him on the road.

“How do you get to Staten Island?” he asked helplessly.

Murr told him. And as he walked on he was lonely no longer. Murr was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on him the freedom of the neighborhood.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—he had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giving air. Murr bought a dozen volumes on motion pictures and cameras and they stood on his shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton and Rudolph Valentino knew. And he had the high intention of reading many other books besides. He was rather literary in college—not only was he an English major, but one year Murr wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the “Georgetown News"—and now he was going to bring back all such things into his life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the "well-rounded man.” This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.

It was a matter of chance that he rented an apartment in one of the strangest communities in North America. It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land. Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous boroughs, identical in contour and separated only by water, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Upper New York Bay.

Murr lived at Staten Island, the—well, the less fashionable of the two boroughs, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them. His apartment was at the very tip of the island, only fifty yards from the Bay, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on his right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gattosby’s mansion. Or rather, as he didn’t know Mr. Joe Gattosby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentleman of that name. His own apartment was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so he had a view of the water, a partial view of his neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dollars a month.

Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable Brooklyn glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening he took the Staten Island Ferry there to have dinner with the Vulcano-Quinns. Sal Vulcano was his former brother-in-law from when Murr had married Sal’s sister for three days, and he’d known Brian “Q” Quinn in his Monsignor Farrell High School days.

Sal’s husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever worked for the Fire Department of New York—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-climax. His family was enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d come to Brooklyn in a fashion that rather took one’s breath away: for instance he’d bought three cats named Benjamin, Brooklyn, and Chessie. It was hard to realize that a man in Murr’s own generation was wealthy enough to do that.

Why they came to New York, Murr doesn’t know. They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, said Sal over the telephone, but Murr didn’t believe it—he had no sight into Sal’s heart but he felt that Q would drift on forever seeking a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable fire to fight.

And so it happened that on a warm windy evening he rode the Staten Island Ferry over to Brooklyn to see two old friends whom he scarcely knew at all. Their house was even more elaborate than Murr had expected, a cheerful red and white Georgian Colonial mansion overlooking the bay. The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run. The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Brian Quinn was at the front porch.

He had changed since his Monsignor Farrell High years. Now he was a sturdy, dark-haired man of thirty with a rather magnificent beard and a supercilious manner. Two shining, arrogant hazel eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his newsboy cap and silk American-flag print scarf could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage—a cruel body.

His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were guys at high school who had hated his guts.

“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.” They were in the same Improv Club, and while they were never intimate Murr always had the impression that Q approved of him and wanted him to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.

They talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.

“I’ve got a nice place here,” he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.

Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub-nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore.

“It belonged to Mrs. Calabash, my neighbor.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly. “We’ll go inside.”

They walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.

The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two men were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white and their clothes were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. Murr must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Q shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room and the curtains and the rugs and the two men ballooned slowly to the floor.

The younger of the two was a stranger to me. He was extended full length at his end of the divan, completely motionless and with his chin raised a little as if he were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall. If he saw me out of the corner of his eyes he gave no hint of it—indeed, Murr was almost surprised into murmuring an apology for having disturbed him by coming in.

The other man, Sal, made an attempt to rise—he leaned slightly forward with a conscientious expression—then he laughed, a loud boisterous laugh that soon had him falling to the floor, and he laughed too and came forward into the room.

“Oh my gawd, I’m p-paralyzed with happiness.”

He got up to only laugh and almost fell to the floor once again, as if he said something very witty, and held his hand for a moment, looking up into Murr’s face, promising that there was no one in the world he so much wanted to see. That was a way he had. Sal hinted in a murmur that the surname of the balancing man was Jost. (Murr has heard it said that Sal’s murmur was only to make people lean toward him; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.)

At any rate Casey Jost’s lips fluttered, he nodded at Murr almost imperceptibly and then quickly tipped his head back again—the object he was balancing had obviously tottered a little and given him something of a fright. Again a sort of apology arose to Murr’s lips. Almost any exhibition of complete self sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from him.

Murr looked back at his former brother-in-law who began to ask him questions in his low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again. His face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright green eyes and a bright passionate mouth—but there was an excitement in his voice that men who had cared for him found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen,” a promise that he had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.

#submission #suki speaks #and also the submission name was F. Thot Fitzgerald which SENT ME INTO ORBIT I LOVED EVERY BIT OF THIS #anon

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ghostgothgeek · 4 years

Text

Blush. Chapter 5

Chapter written by @ecto-american!

Disclaimer: actual sex ed talk

FFN || AO3

---

God it felt like forever until he was finally leaving the bathroom again, even though the clock on the wall said it had only been about five minutes. He waited for Sam to leave and for his personal issues to figure themselves out before he swung the bathroom door open. Thankfully, nobody was there, and he sighed heavily. He was not looking forward to returning to the class. Maybe he should just skip.

Ugh, and risk having to do a one on one private sex education lesson with Mr. Lancer? No thanks. He’d rather get the talk from the Box Ghost.

He dragged his feet towards the classroom. Elliot was obviously back in the class by now, probably already telling everybody what had just happened. Which was nothing, but once he spread the news to Paulina, that was all she wrote. Paulina could spread gossip so fast that it was honestly impressive. Almost a superpower.

Danny stood in the doorframe of the class before immediately turning to leave. Fuck this.

“Hey!” Mike’s voice called out accusingly. “Come on. Can’t skip out.” God, why couldn’t the accident have fully killed him? Ghosts didn’t have to go to school. Or suffer through having to listen to the sex talk.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to see the bane of his existence. Elliot, grinning like the cat that ate the canary, was sitting in the previously unoccupied seat that was to Danny’s left. That absolute fucker changed seats again , and Danny avoided eye contact as he returned to his chair. Elliot watched him like a hawk.

No sooner than he planted himself, Elliot scooted his chair closer to him. Danny refused to look at him. The other leaned into him.

“Couldn’t wait, aye?” he whispered, not even bothering to hold back a snicker.

Danny’s eyes flickered to the front. Mike’s attention was on a student who had asked a question. He took the chance to punch Elliot in the shoulder. Hard. The exchange student’s seat jerked back a bit, and he winced as he rubbed his shoulder. Danny hoped it would bruise. Tucker nudged Danny, giving him a weird look. Danny shook his head, and he rubbed his face with his hands tiredly. He knew his face was bright red.

“You know, girls with more experience tend to give you a better time,” Elliot’s voice refused to shut the fuck up. “So uh, ya know. You’re welcome.”

“For what?” Danny scowled.

“Dude, Sam and I have done stuff. We’d go to her house and such, I’ve been to third base like, at least four times.”

Danny felt his hands shake with rage. God damn it, god fucking damn it. He knew that wasn’t true. He was there on every date, from beginning to end because he specifically didn’t trust him. And even when he stopped, Tucker was there. Nothing happened. He knew it. But how do you call a guy out like that? How do you prove that you know he’s full of shit?

“You’re full of shit,” was all Danny could find himself able to say. “And just shut the hell up about Sam already. You guys broke up. It’s over. Done. Let it go.”

Elliot gave a small hum.

“Eh, I dunno. I thought about asking her out again,” Elliot said slyly.

Danny took a deep breath. He refused to fall into this guy’s petty crap. No, no, he wasn’t, he was just trying to test his patience. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, Fenton. Don’t give him one.

He made a point of ignoring Elliot, instead opening the Planned Parenthood booklet to the section related to Mike’s lecture. He zoned out though. None of this mattered, he wasn’t an idiot. Condoms and consent, basic stuff. Not like he planned on going out and getting wild.

Well of course, there were some girls he wouldn’t mind getting wild with. Paulina instantly came to mind. She had an excellent body. One he had seen in a swimsuit before. And of course, it’s not like he didn’t think about it with Valerie when they were together. He liked her a lot. Plus Sam. Sam had such a nice gentle touch. And soft lips and hands. Why did he never realize that?

Danny spaced out, staring ahead at the front of the class. He wished Sam was here, next to him instead of fucking Elliot. By now, she’d likely have leaned into him, bored to tears herself. Sometimes she cuddled up into him if it was cold. It wasn’t now, but it wouldn’t be the first time he purposefully made the classroom a bit chilly for that very reason. Her hugs were always just comforting and calming.

“Dude, taste this,” Tucker’s voice broke him from his thoughts. Danny glanced to see his friend. He had opened another condom packet, and he was holding it up to Danny.

“...What?”

“Dude, it tastes really good,” Tucker insisted. “It tastes just like mint.”

“I’m not licking any condoms that you’ve already been licking,” Danny scowled.

“Just open yours and taste it,” Tucker encouraged. Danny sighed, giving a light shrug. Well, anything to pass the time.

He opened the condom packet. It was greasy and felt gross, and he hesitantly pressed his tongue against it. Surprisingly, Tucker was right. Not too bad.

“Huh, that does taste like mint,” he hummed in surprise.

He put the entire, still rolled condom in his mouth. He sucked on it for a bit before spitting it back out into his hand. Danny studied Mike until Mike turned his back and Lancer was still distracted before slapping it on Elliot’s cheek. The wet condom stuck there for a second before falling to the floor. Elliot immediately turned to glare at him. He glanced to make sure the teachers were still distracted before returning the punch from earlier, hitting Danny in the upper arm.

Danny flinched. It definitely didn’t hurt nearly as much as a ghost, but it still ached for a moment. He refused to rub his shoulder to comfort himself. This was apparently a bad move. Elliot glared at him until the next available opportunity, and he hit him again. Danny let out an irritated groan from clenched teeth. That one hurt a bit more.

“Cut it out before I kick you so hard you can be assured that you’ll never have a kid,” Danny threatened.

“Bold of you to even assume I want children, Fenton,” Elliot replied in a hushed tone. “The best birth control is having a one year old nephew that screams all the time and constantly shits himself out of excitement whenever he hears the ice cream truck. No fucking thanks. From the looks of things, you’re the one that needs to be neutered. I can gladly help.”

Elliot shifted a bit away from him, only to raise his foot to attempt to kick him. Obviously, he only hit Danny’s side. The halfa grabbed Elliot’s foot, yanking him hard. He fell out of the seat with a surprised yelp.

“You guys okay?” Mike’s voice called out. Upon hearing the noises, Mr. Lancer had snapped to his feet.

“You two better not be messing around,” Mr. Lancer’s voice instantly caused a wave of complete silence to fall upon the classroom. “This is an important lesson you will carry for the rest of your lives. I expect you to pay attention, or else I will assign homework or give a pop quiz on this.”

Elliot put his elbow up on the table, pulling himself up and back onto his seat.

“I’m fine, just tilted my chair back too much,” he lied. He flashed Lancer a fake smile. The teacher didn’t look amused.

“Watch yourself, Mr. Gregor,” he warned before sitting back down.

Mike gave a friendly smile at the class before continuing his conversation. Danny sat up a bit straighter. Of all the days to get detention, this was not the day he wanted to have to deal with that. Sure, he wasn’t on the radar now, but it wouldn’t be long.

He felt Elliot nudge him, and he pointedly ignored it. He focused on Mike, who was answering Kwan’s inquiry about a male birth control pill. Elliot poked him. Danny did nothing.

“Hey, you mad just because I know that Sam wears pink panties?” Elliot whispered. That was enough to instantly boil his blood.

“You don’t know shit,” Danny hissed at him.

“Oh I know all about how Sam secretly has bright pink panties,” Elliot taunted. Danny rolled his eyes. He had done Sam’s laundry before. He’s done her emergency overnight packing. They’ve gotten a bit heavy during makeouts twice. She’s stayed over for sleepovers since they were like twelve. And even if none of that happened, he doubted Sam would secretly wear pink. She didn’t care what others thought, if she wanted to wear pink, she’d just openly wear pink.

“You’re so full of crap,” Danny scowled. “They’re almost all black or purple. At least one’s dark gray with black bats all over them. You really think Sam would wear pink like, ever? Dumbass.”

Elliot stared at him, mouth slightly open. Tucker was staring at him too, with wide eyes. Danny didn’t really notice them, focusing his attention once more on Mike. He had, at some point, began writing a list of pros and cons up on the board of various birth control methods. Danny studied it for a moment. Mike glanced at the clock. He patted the box set before him on the table.

“Okay, so we’re approaching lunch, so I’m going to take a pause right now to just say that this box has some condoms, sample-size lube bottles, and some short books about gender identity that you can take as you wish,” Mike explained, holding up the items as he spoke. “There’s just some fun stickers too, and we also have a card that has the number of a therapist office we partner with. We’ll be leaving the door unlocked, so you can come in and grab it discreetly during lunch if you don’t want to in the rush to leave. I won’t be in here, I’ll actually be with Mallory in Room 105, which I understand is the uh.” Mike paused. “Room just down the hall?” The class nodded at him. “Cool. So we’ll be there if you want to ask more personal questions.”

The bell finally rang, and Danny sighed in relief. Elliot was already out of his seat, mumbling something about needing to update Paulina asap on something, out the door before Mike could even continue.

“Alrighty folks, if you wanna take some bananas with you as part of lunch too, feel free!” Mike shot a teasing smile at Danny, and the teen sunk in his seat before quickly getting to his feet and making a fast-walk for the door. “We won’t be needing them later on, so take as many as you like. And of course, feel free to take whatever you want from the box.”

As he passed by, Danny glanced into the box, a blurred colorful assortment of condoms, stickers and the sample lube bottles. He refused to stop and take one, unlike a few brave souls behind him, including Tucker for some reason, who stopped to grab anywhere from one, to a handful. Or in Tucker’s case, two handfuls? What? Tucker wasn’t even dating anybody right now.

He quickly turned the corner out of the classroom, and a quick glance around, he noticed he was alone. He turned invisible, and he walked back in, intangibly going through his classmates to peak into the box. Danny paused before looking around as the contents were shifted as classmates hunted for what they wanted, and finally, he grabbed two purple colored condoms, Sam’s secret favorite color. She liked to act like it was black, but he knew deep down that it was purple. He walked out, seeing the hallway become crowded, though everybody seemed wrapped up in their own business. The normal.

The halfa slipped into a janitor’s closet, turning visible. He quickly left and shut the door behind him, walking until he spied his friend. Tucker was crouched on the floor next to the lockers near the classroom they had just exited, trying to carefully put his new condom collection into his open backpack without spilling them all over the floor.

“Do you really need that many?” Danny wondered. Tucker grinned.

“Better safe than sorry!” he told him.

“What about when you get all your tech back, it’s not gonna all fit,” Danny pointed out. Tucker gave Danny an intense, serious look.

“I’ll find a way,” he assured him before returning to his task. He was picking up fallen condoms to stuff into his bag.

Danny chuckled. He glanced up and into the classroom, unintentionally locking eyes with Elliot. The other was talking with Mike. About what, Danny couldn’t tell, but Elliot had immediately shot him a light smirk. Danny scowled back, crossing his arms.

“Come on, Tuck, I’m starving, and I’m not really interested in having a condom for lunch,” Danny spoke up. And I miss Sam. He turned to begin walking, hearing Tucker scrambling to zip his backpack newly full of condoms and rush after him.

“So uh...do you wanna talk about how come you know what kind of underwear Sam wears?” Tucker questioned. Danny stared blankly at him before he flushed, scowling.

“Tucker, you’ve seen her underwear. You did her laundry and helped me pack her stuff before.”

Tucker blinked, thinking on this answer for a moment. Danny stood on his tiptoes, looking for a sign of Sam coming from the other classroom. None. She was probably at her locker, and he began to walk towards it, Tucker following.

“...Yeah but I’ve never like...kept track of the colors,” Tucker said slowly. Danny could feel his cheeks turning a bit redder, but he refused to reply. “Sooo...wanna expand a little on those three makeout times that I apparently didn’t know about?”

“No,” Danny said shortly before finally spotting Sam. He sighed happily, taking a few eager steps towards her.

#stephanie writes sometimes #blush #sex ed fic #danny phantom #Amethyst Ocean

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mychemicalaromanticism · 3 years

Text

things ive already established r on this post

besties this got so fucking long but heres a giant ramble about cherri

okay so. there are huge differences betwn cherri as a hyperviolent drac hunter and cherri as a friend of the four and cherri as the girls mentor. with the first one he was 17 and desperate to distance himself from his upbringing so he went all in on Being A Killjoy. he was always one of the first ppl to rush into a fight and he fought hard. he blew up his fuckin hand with that attitude. and all the while he was just racking up more unaddressed trauma and eventually he ran away from that, too. giving himself radiation poisoning was more appealing than facing his problems.

so as a teenager/young adult hes kind of constantly in a panicked state. hes scared the people from his past are going to find him and drag him back with them. so he lashes out and he runs away over and over again.

i said in another post that he has some past life shit goin on which usually would give him a connection to the witch that manifests early in life, but with all the stuff hes gone through he has been Preoccupied. he can become oblivious to almost anything that doesnt apply to whatever hes focused on. not in a hyperfocus way its likeeeeee. when u live on survival mode during prolonged periods of stress. hes immune to magic bullshit bc hes too tired and scared.

anyways around his mid-20s he finally has a little more stability (as much as the average person living in the zones can have, that is) and he finally notices that Weird Stuff happens around him. basically: out of my list of Powers People Connected To The Witch Have he has the prophetic dreams/enhanced intuition as well as a form of sensing ghosts where he can see auras and kind of like, echoes of past events in ppls lives. that look like auras. itz complicated and not of utmost importance so im leaving it at that.

anyways thats what makes him start writing poetry. just 4 funsies he'll describe his weird experiences and embellish them to make em pretty. just as a casual hobby n all that.

he would forget fun ghoul in between the times they ran into each other but its pretty easy to be reminded of who fun ghoul is. the most insane 10 year old cherri has ever met. cherri isnt a brother figure to ghoul. hes just. his friend that happens to be more than twice his age. its whatever lmao

to cherri, ghoul is kinda like a stray animal he keeps seeing. which is hilarious. ghoul actually goes and finds him to introduce him to jet when they start running together, and cherri meets party and kobra (spark and birdie at the time) when he drives the four of them to a party. because he has a truck hell yeah. so now instead of one stray animal he has, like, a feral cat colony that he drives around occasionally. i have no real-life human relationship equivalent to them because irl if some guy that is not related to any of you and isnt even a childhood or family friend and theyre hanging out with you? they are usually not a safe person lmao. but this is my fantasy land and im too stubborn to change anyones birth years even though ghoul being born in 2004 makes everything really hard to make not creepy.

so yeah hes a casual somewhat friend of the fab four. hed probably get more and more concerned as they got famous. the beginnings of any sort of protective feelings, awww :) that sets him up for becoming the girls mentor.

OH FUCK. THE GIRL..... i think if i was in my late 20s and i heard that the gang of 13-17 year olds had adopted a 5 year old kid i would go bananas. what the fuck. it is a LONG while before cherri meets her. but he has the strongest affection for ghoul (if you could even call it that) and ghoul absolutely adores the girl and swings her around under her arms like a cat to show her off to cherri and its very endearing and the girl is sweet and funny so its easy to be around her. and (unfortunately) she is somewhat used to interacting with weird easily agitated people so she kinda gives him space. cherri isnt quite the uncle figure the fandom usually makes him (i luv uncle cherri sm but he simply cannot exist in the universe ive created, f), but hes a little similar.

and then the four had to go and pretend to die. lol.

when the girl was kidnapped, fucking everyone who knew her was ready to storm the city then and there. like regardless of how little you knew her, if you had ever met her you would fucking die for her. she is pure childish charisma and shes precious. i love the girl. so cherris immediately on board with whatever plan the four make to get her back. ive already talked abt how it fucked up the girl tho; there was no way to tell her that the four werent actually dead, she sees the building collapse and she shuts down. and cherri has to fight against his instinct to leave the radio station and never come back when he sees an eight year old girl sitting dissociated on the couch. that fucks everyone up.

i just realized i havent talked about literally anyone else at the radio station. i think cherri started lingering around the station bc it was safe and sheltered while also not being a popular spot. there are less kids there (people pass through but its not a hangout spot). he was kind of just hanging around to get away from the heat and noise and dr d took notice. because that man can see ur soul and no one knows if thats literal or not. so theyd chat a few times a day and show pony was the one 2 get him out of his shell a little and also was the first one he mentioned his poetry hobby to. im making this all up right now as im writing bc i dont know anything about LITERALLY any of the ppl associated w the radio like im not even going 2 try with chimp n newsie i do not have the willpower to tackle all that. justttt. cherri pony n D become bros and live 2gether there.

back 2 the regular timeline. the rescue mission happens in 2019. the girl lives at the station until 2023. during that time she is very much depressed and withdrawn and is only happy when the four come to visit. none of the Adults know how to help her so they just keep her safe and cared for and hope she'll open up to them.

she does not. she takes the weird cat thats been hanging around and she runs away.

cherri does not see her for three years. shes still worse for wear in the mental health department and he can see all kinds of visions of what shes been through since the last time he saw her and he fucking hates the ultra vs bc they remind him of his past. he does not want her going down that path but its obvious that she isnt crazy abt the ultraviolence thing either so thats a relief.

they have a kind of tense relationship throughout the comics. he feels like he failed her and that spirals into feeling like he failed the four for not being a good adult to them and fun ghoul for not helping enough when his commune was bombed and all kinds of shit and that irrational thinking mixed with plain old, yknow, caring about the girl, is what makes him take a bullet (laser. whatever) for her.

i was trying to figure out the timing of each of their ghost experiences, but i want both of them to talk to the witch and im just gonna make it like dreams where a whole buncha stuff happens but irl its been like seconds. so its like barely a second while the girl has her Witch Convo and cherri FINALLY gets a straight answer, yes there is weird shit going on with him having powers. he doesnt have any story-significant past lives because im lazy, hes just an old soul. like really fuckin old. the amount of latent life experience and stuff his soul/energy/whatever has picked up along the way makes him VERY noticeable to gods n stuff. he fuckin lights up all the alarms like what the FUCK is that over there. she wasnt rly able to get to him or even properly notice him while he was a kid and a young adult so shes happy to finally see him again. he has a STRONG sense of familiarity with her. they know each other on a wild ass level that he cant really comprehend.

welp thats some more lore I'll have 2 think abt. anywayz

post canon is when he and val get to have the most awkward spiderman meme moment of realizing that they have the same trauma SOOOOO thatz fun lol /s sorry kings i thought it would be fun to give u something fucked up to bond over <3

not much changes in his personality. he has a better understanding of Weird Magic and delights in freaking out the ultra vs but for the most part he returns to his life at the radio station. i love him

THIS GOT SO CRAZY LONG I DID NOT MEAN 2 GO THROUGH EVERY PART OF HIS LIFE LIKE SOME WEIRD CHARACTER STUDY but here we are. this is basically a first draft like almost all of this is subject to change but u gotta start somewhere. so heres my start i love this guy. its probably obvious but i have not read ANY twitterverse killjoys stuff </3 maybe i will someday idk

#cat talks #lore #ok2rb but what a mess this post is

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